#as soon as that child is old enough to understand where meat comes from i guarantee he swears off of it

[doodlebloo]

I love seeing different interpretations of Michael_B don't get me wrong but also I truly cannot imagine a world in which that boy is not a vegetarian.

#he is a pig who raises chickens. his cousin (?) yogurt's grandma is a fish. his uncle tommy takes him to a gravesite for a cow he loved. #as soon as that child is old enough to understand where meat comes from i guarantee he swears off of it #(& cbeeduo would of course accomodate him as needed :] they learn vegetarian recipes together) #doodle.txt

[koroanebony]

Part 5 @luna-xial

The bird speaks, “Hello young one. It seems you can understand me. I’ll begin telling all of your new animal friends. We have a new queen of the animals!” I stumble back, in shock and amazement. Elrond watched the whole ordeal in amazement. He bows and leaves the room. Why did he bow to me? My question was soon answered by myself. Did he hear the bird call me the queen? Why did the bird call me its queen? Or the animal queen for that matter. I ignored the thought when my stomach rumbled. I left the room and looked around, curious as to what was going on. Maids were rushing around and when one of them stopped to dust off the desk by my room it urged on her dress, as she towered over me. She screamed and ran away, not finishing her chore and leaving the rag she was wiping the table down with. I grab the rag and finish the chore. Once I have finished I go down the hall and down the stairs that I saw down the hall. I slowly creep down the long staircase and when I reach the bottom I smell food so I follow my nose. Once I reach where the smell is coming from I stop in my tracks. The kitchen is packed with people and I try to turn around but I’m faced with a person. I fall and look up when I hear that all too familiar chuckle. I see Elrond holding a hand out to me and I hesitantly take his outstretched hand. “Suilad neth er. What are cin doing?” (Hello young one. What are you doing?) I make a whimpering noise and look down in shame. “ It's alright. I’m not mad. But, what are you doing?” He answered his own question by saying, lYou're probably hungry.” I nod and look back into his loving, fatherly eyes. He grabs my minuscule hand in his large hand and he leads me into the kitchen. As we walk into the kitchen all of the cooks and maids bow as he walks by. He nods back and we continue walking through the kitchen. He looks down at me and whispers into my ear, “do you like meat?” I nod my head slowly and he gestures for a maid to come by and help him. When he gets me a reasonable sized plate of an assortment of foods I look up and he just nods and leaves. I start to eat but instead of scarfing it down like some people would expect me to, I eat slowly and carefully. It didn't take me very long to finish the delicious food but I finished it quite quickly. When I was finished I hopped off the chair I was given at a low table and a maid came up to me, looking shocked for a moment then gave me a kind, sad smile. She took the plate and I walked back into the hall. When I get back into the hall I start wandering around through the castle. When I heard a loud voice I jumped and almost screamed but I held it in, so as to not alert anyone of my presence. When I peered out from the stone column I was hidden behind, I saw a tall, blonde elf looking into Elrond’s with anger and his aura was dark, brooding, sad, and hatred. I don’t know what happened but I went along with it and when I saw the stranger slap Elrond, something snapped in me. I quickly jumped out and despite my small size I tried to tackle the tall elf. It almost works. Almost. He loses his balance for a few moments and then regains his bearings. He glances down at me and chuckles while Elrond looks at him with a scared face. The tall blond picks me up and almost drops me in pure shock due to the wings. He can’t see my horns so he might be confused as to why a child was trying to tackle him. Elrond looked confused too though so I really had no idea what was happening. Then the elf did drop me and I would have fallen but I began flapping my wings not very hard but hard enough to stay afloat then I decreased the amount I’m flapping and I slowly descended to the ground. When I reach the ground I look up with a glare but it isn’t very intimidating when you're a 7 year old. “This is the child you speak of? What’s wrong with her eyes?” The blond was questioning Elrond. I respond with, “I have a name. I don’t tell people because they are usually mean. I know what I am. And last I checked nothing was wrong with my eyes.” Elrond chuckles at my attitude towards the blond.

#lord of the rings #the hobbit #kili x oc

[elsewhereuniversity]

Why You Should Wear Boots after Picking a Major You Didn’t Want

A university is a place where dreams are thrown away.

Such is the case far too often. It remains Real even between the railroad, highway and train tracks. Even there, people interrogate themselves: ‘This is your dream, but is it realistic? How much is the starting salary? Look at your classmates, elegantly breezing over what you clawed through, tooth and nail. Look at your competitors––’

So many choose to drown their dreams themselves… even though, at Elsewhere University, the dead do not rest quietly. The Wild Hunt is proof of that. Yes, that Wild Hunt, which rides across campus when the fog rolls in. We all know the versions in which they hunt for students unlucky (or unbelieving) enough to be outside when the hounds begin baying. Stay inside, stay quiet, and you’ll be all the better for it, if they ignore you.

What about the other versions, though? What about the versions in which it is best to open your windows and howl back? There are tales like that, too––

Sometimes, those brave enough to shout along with the Wild Hunt will be rewarded with a share of prey or gold. Those kind enough to repair a lost hunter’s sled soon discover this to be the right choice, for upon closer inspection, the hounds are not just hounds. Their bones are laden heavy with wrath.

And sometimes, villagers tell tales of a cloaked rider on a white horse. Horseshoes spark against the night breeze. He will ask you to play an impossible game of tug-of-war. If you are wise, you will tie the other end of the rope to a sturdy oak. The leader of the Hunt likes clever little things. He might even drop a reward in your boot.

Perhaps this is why you see students wearing boots for a while after they declare their majors. Even Magenta (who got her name from always wearing high-heeled loafers of that particular shade) and Ma-Boi-Blanche (who has 17 pairs of white sneakers) wore boots back then. Rumor has it, according to a friend of a roommate of a Forbidden Major, that this footwear will help you abandon your misery.

When the Wild Hunt rides as a group, they come to condemn. The RAs are not wrong in telling you to run for safety when the fog descends.

On the other hand, when the leader of the Hunt appears alone, he comes to test. In this more benign (but not safe, never safe) form, 4% meet a bedraggled man, 2% a king of old, 3% a specimen of demon (the Christian subspecies), 6% a harlequin, and 5% a sledder with a thick Mecklenburg accent.

84% of those who have survived the encounter say that the leader of the Hunt wears a cloak and a wide hat that partially hides his eyes (one of which is duller than the other). He gallops in on a splendid white horse.

95% of those who survived the encounter were wearing boots (one of them was wearing spatterdashes over court shoes, but eh, close enough).

100% of the survivors say that you must be ready to be tested. Be kind, clever, daring. If you are all that––and wary, wise, lucky too––the leader of the Hunt will let you go and stuff something in your boot. A post-it, on which is written the major that they chose, yet hated with every fibre of their being.

Now, put the boot back on and walk. It may be a bit awkward to walk around, what with the paper writhing under your feet, but do so anyway. Every student who has tried it reports that when they got back to their dorms, the paper had vanished from beneath their soles. In its place, they had gained a floating sensation, grafted in their bones.

By the end of the year, Ma-Boi-Blanche and Professor Redd were chattering away like old friends. The Professor had to admit that his student wasn’t very good at dissections, but there was an unmistakable passion for anatomy in his eyes, and he would improve soon. (Very soon, especially with Professor Redd’s talent of acquiring practice bodies, his jaunty hat growing redder with every new specimen.)

On the other side of campus, the law majors learned to listen for the click-clack of high-heeled loafers. Woe betide the unlucky people who faced off against Magenta, who suddenly threw herself into mock trials with gusto. Her opponents gained a Pavlovian fear response to seeing any shade of pink.

This did not go ignored. The Involved went up to the two, in order to warn them.

“The Gentry do not offer things for free,” they said. “And intelligence isn’t cheap. What in Morganwode did you pay?”

To which the ones who met the Huntsman merely laughed, because they weren’t any smarter. The only difference was that now, they were interested in the subjects they found so odious before.

In the old tales, a satisfied rider of the Wild Hunt will reward a human with meat. The person will walk back home in the dark, one shoe on and one shoe off, the boot growing heavier with every step. Once home, they will see that the raw, bloody meat has transformed into gold.

There are a few who still receive this, not always in the payment of gold, but in blessings. (Childe House’s oldest RA is one of them, which explains why the once-every-305-days evacuation has a 100% success rate, even when half a dozen residents don’t understand what a “mandatory house meeting” or a “fire drill” is.)

  Which begs the question: why does the leader of the Hunt help so many?

Rewards are meant to be given to the exceptional few. Yet the unhappy are not part of these few. Given the number of students with newfound rapture in their eyes, one does not need to be exceptionally kind, clever, or daring to transfer their passions. Just wary, wise, and lucky are enough.

When asked, the leader of the Wild Hunt proclaimed that such a spell is child’s play. We’ve already provided the ingredients: two subjects and a passion. The price is low because all he needs to do is to sever the interest from one subject, then attach it to another. Simple work, he said. He would never think of charging so much for something he could do before breakfast. It is not befitting a warrior. Think of it as a favour from a father to his children, he said, then laughs as if there is a joke here that no one else understands.

There are more people who understand than he might think, for the more competent members of the Forbidden Major have another theory. Anyone with passing knowledge of folklore would be able to recognize this person at a glance, they say (quietly, and never to the Huntsman’s face). He is the amalgamation of ghost, fae and old god.

The first rider of the Wild Hunt might be, depending on the amount of fertilizer on the campus lawn and the moon phase, the oldest warrior poet. There are less battlefields for him to watch over now, but still he is song and madness. Still, he is overcome with fury when he sees yet another soldier buckle before the fight has begun.

This child would have made a fine skald. That child could have become a brilliant shield-maiden. This one had the makings of a king, yet they chose to push these futures away, he said through clenched teeth. These children began to think there was nothing left. They started to look at the pond and that single eighth-floor window which could open all the way.

This is not a battlefield, but… to give up before the horn sounds, under his watch?

Unforgivable, he said, with an unblinking smile, all teeth and lone glittering eye. To despair is to slander my hundred names.

So the leader of the Hunt casts a few spells here, a little trickery there, and coaxes the bright frenzy back in their eyes, or so the Forbidden Majors whisper. The price is only low because of who and why he is. He helps them so they can die more valiantly, another day.

  Think of it as a favour from a father to his children, he says, then laughs as if there is a joke here that no one else understands. This is despite the fact that half the Forbidden Majors and a fifth of the Literature Majors know who he is.

(Not that they would reveal that, ever. The all-father’s wrath is a terrible thing.)

  Addendum:

Statistics unavailable for those who encountered the Wild Hunt’s leader alone, while not wearing boots. Mythological references, as well as the Sword-House valet’s intuition, imply it is better not to know.

[Author’s Note]

I did not intend “Why You Should Wear Boots after Picking a Major You Didn’t Want” to be so long. Do pardon me.

There is much debate over the identity of the Wild Hunt’s leader. My personal favourite theory is that the leader is Odin, or some variant of him, which this submission is based on. Still, I couldn’t resist hinting at the others:

“Bedraggled man” = multiple stories, in which the Hunt’s leader is any hunter who preferred hunting to going to church, or else slandered a certain god

“King of old” = Arawn

“Harlequin” = in Vitalis’ Ecclesiastical History Vol. 2 (1140), Hellequin/Herlequin is the herald of a Wild- Hunt-esque procession of tortured souls. There is also King Herla.

“Sledder with a thick Mecklenburg accent” = Frau Gauden

-Louis

#Why You Should Wear Boots after Picking a Major You Didn’t Want #stories #long post #the wild hunt #odin #louis #thanks for the note on tags! was really helpful! #very vague mention of #suicidal ideation #loved this!

[ticklishfiend]

Strawberry Milk (My Hero Academia)

Ship : Lee!Bakugou Ler!Kirishima (Kiribaku)

A/N : this took forever to make and it's the longest fic i've posted on this account so far, but i just had a lot of fun making it!! i hope you guys enjoy it, especially the lovely krbk anon who inspired this. they actually sent a few prompts that have inspired other krbk tickle fic ideas that i'll more than likely write for soon as well, but for now i hope you enjoy this!! much love <33

Summary : Kirishima stays for a sleepover at Bakugou’s childhood home, and after accidentally pissing off the explosive teen, seeks out some professional help from someone who may know the boy best: his father. From this, Kirishima learns a quick way from the boys childhood to get him forgiveness in no time.

Word Count : 5113 (jfc lmao)

REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!! MWAH <33

. . .

“Are you seriously mad at me over this?” Kirishima asked with a confused, breathy chuckle. He watched as his best friend pouted with arms crossed over his chest like a child, glaring daggers into the redhead from his spot on the bed.

“Yes. And I do not plan on changing that. So don’t fucking try me, Spiky Hair” Bakugou turned his body fully away from Kirishima now, who was lounged rather comfortably on Bakugou’s orange beanbag seated on the ground. Kirishima rolled his eyes at Bakugou’s childishness, though still couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty.

After months of practically having to beg the explosive teen for a sleepover at his childhood home, the blonde finally relented and allowed Kirishima to be a guest in his home for the weekend. Bakugou’s parents were actually pretty happy to have Bakugou back at the house, even if for such a short period of time, and were even more thrilled when they realized someone actually wanted to come with him. Bakugou was never really one for making (and keeping) close friends growing up, so this was something they were definitely excited over the prospects of.

He and Bakugou had been playing video games for the past couple of hours now, their most recent game that Bakugou was now practically fuming over being...Minecraft. Bakugou had gotten pretty attached to a wolf he unsurprisingly named “Prince Homicide,” but after bringing it to a cave while mining with Kirishima, the red-head had accidentally pushed it into a vat of lava, killing it almost instantly.

So that’s where the pair were now. Bakugou seething from his spot criss-crossed on the bed, now turned away from Kirishima with his arms crossed like a child towards the wall. Kirishima sighed, pushing himself off the beanbag and walking towards Bakugou’s door.

“Look, I’m gonna go get something to drink. You want anything?” Kirishima raised his eyebrows in hopes of a response.

“Die,” was all he got.

Kirishima bit back another chuckle, opening the door before turning his head back around to look at Bakugou, who was now fiddling with his sheets and grumbling to himself angrily. “Alright, well, I’ll be back in just a minute. Hopefully you’ll have calmed yourself down enough by then.”

“I AM CALM YOU RED-HAIRED LOSER!” Bakugou yelled at the door as Kirishima quickly walked out and shut the door to avoid the small blasts he could hear shooting from the boy’s palms. Kirishima just shook his head with a grin, making his way down the stairs and towards the kitchen.

When he arrived, he saw Bakugou’s father cooking dinner on the stove. It made Kirishima smile, reminding him of his own home a little, though he hadn’t been back home in a while. He did miss his moms quite a lot since moving to the dorms, and he’ll definitely have to invite Bakugou over to meet them sometime soon.

He could smell the amazing spices his father had been adding to whatever meat and noodles he had in the pot, the scent almost burning Kirishima’s nose from how spicy he could tell it was. ‘Obviously loving spiciness must run in the family,’ Kirishima thought as he opened up the fridge, alerting the father’s attention.

“Oh, Kirishima! Are you looking for anything specific?” the man asked, looking up from his steaming pot for a moment to smile at his son’s best friend. Kirishima shot a cheerful smile right back at him.

“Oh, just some water would be fine!” he nodded, grabbing a water bottle from one of the fridge drawers, before remembering the seething boy upstairs waiting for his return. He grinned. “Actually, what does Bakugou normally drink here? At the dorms he usually has protein shakes but you probably don’t have those just lying around,” Kirishima chuckled, sitting his water bottle down on the kitchen island to look at his friend’s father.

“Well, the boy doesn’t usually like to admit it but he’s quite keen on strawberry milk,” he smiled with a nod as he went back to stirring his pot, glancing over towards Kirishima with a grin.

“Shoot, really? Didn’t peg him for the strawberry milk type of guy,” Kirishima giggled, looking back in the fridge and noticing the few bottles of strawberry milk they had lying on the shelf, probably bought when they found out Bakugou was coming home for the weekend. “He’s kinda mad at me right now so I figured I’d make a peace offering.”

“Not a bad idea, kid. I’ve had to do my fair share of those over the years. Katsuki’s always been the rather...angry type,” Masaru’s eyebrows furrowed downward towards his pot, shaking his head as if thinking of all the times the boy must’ve lost his temper at his old man.

“What did you used to do when he was little? Y’know, whenever he got all...aah!” Kirishima accentuated his little growl imitating Bakugou by shaking his hands angrily in front of him, just like how Bakugou usually does when he’s about to blow someone to kingdom come. This made Masaru laugh, shaking his head and adding a few more spices to the pot.

“Well...as of now, I usually just let his mother handle everything. But when he was little, Mitsuki and I would usually just tickle the little guy ‘til he giggled all that anger out,” Masaru smiled at the fond memories, glancing over towards Kirishima who held a wide-eyed, shocked but excited expression on his face. Masaru chuckled, pointing his spoon towards the teen. “But you did not hear this from me, understand?”

“Oh, totally, I got your back 100% Mr. Bakugou,” Kirishima saluted the man with a grin, making him laugh once more with a fond shake of the head. Kirishima lowered his hand, finally grabbing the strawberry milk from the fridge and sitting it on the counter with his water, promptly shutting the fridge door. “So...that didn’t make him angry or anything? He wouldn’t, like, explode you and Mrs. Bakugou to ashes or something?”

“Well I’m still here to tell the story, aren’t I?” Masaru gestured to his body with his spoon, Kirishima nodding with a chuckle. “Nah, he used to love it when we did that! Sometimes I think he’d pretend to be angry on purpose just so we’d play ‘Claw’ with him.”

“Claw? What’s Claw?” Kirishima asked, now leaning on the counter with his head propped up on his hand, listening intently as if this was the single most interesting thing he’d ever heard (because in all honesty? It very well might’ve been).

“Oh boy, Claw was his favorite. I would always hold his hands down so he couldn’t get away, while his mother would make a claw hand and tickle it into his stomach and ribs. It always had little Katsuki in stitches,” Masaru was very obviously enjoying remembering these fond memories of his son, seeming like he had almost completely forgotten about these fun little moments until Kirishima had brought them all back to light. “We always did it when he was being bratty, but not bratty enough to deserve a time-out. Sometimes, though, he wouldn’t even have to do anything bad, he’d just come out and ask for Claw when he felt playful. It was always so cute,” Masaru grinned widely, looking over towards Kirishima and promptly pointing his spoon back at the boy. “And, again you didn’t hear any of this from me, but…”

He paused, almost debating whether or not this was a good idea. He was finally swayed on his decision, however, when he saw the bright look of excitement in Kirishima’s eyes at the prospect of an actually happy Bakugou. He couldn’t help but cave.

“...but if you wanna really get him laughing, his worst spots are the spot riiiiight under his armpits, and the sides of his thighs. You get him there and he’ll be forgiving you in no time.”

Kirishima nodded with a large, toothy grin, swiping the drinks off the counter and practically bouncing in his spot as he backed his way out of the kitchen. “Thank you so much, Mr. Bakugou. It was truly an honor to know you, but I’ve got a death sentence waiting for me upstairs.”

“You get him, kiddo!” Masaru shouted towards the teen as he scurried his way out of the kitchen and towards the stairs giddily.

Kirishima was practically cheesing when he made his way towards Bakugou’s childhood bedroom, and had to mentally and physically calm himself down before entering so as not to alert Bakugou of his devious scheme.

He pushed the door open, finding Bakugou to now be leaning with his back against the wall, arm propped up on his knee as he scrolled mindlessly through his phone. He scowled upon hearing Kirishima’s entrance, not even bothering to look up towards the boy as he grumbled, “Damn, I was hoping you were gonna stay down there all night.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes, tossing the milk onto the bed beside the blonde and hopping onto it himself. Bakugou’s eyes widened at the sudden movement beside him, eyes darting down to the drink on his bed before scowling back up at Kirishima. “How the fuck did you know I like this shit, I never drink it at school.”

Kirishima grinned, opening up his own water bottle. “Oh, just a little birdy,” he giggled, taking a sip of his water and watching as Bakugou begrudgingly took his own drink and started opening it as well.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you, moron. These are just...really good,” Bakugou wasn’t looking at Kirishima, obviously still angry as he went back to staring at his phone instead of paying the redhead any mind.

“C’mon, man, I didn’t mean to! It wasn’t on purpose!” Kirishima practically pleaded next to him, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder which was immediately shrugged off rather aggressively. “Look, I’m sorry. Would it make you feel better if I helped you find a new wolf?”

“Are you kidding me?! I’m not playing this shitty game with you anymore, you fucking suck at it!” Bakugou had a scowl on his face that looked like what he was saying was the single most obvious thing in the whole world. Kirishima just sighed, closing up his water and throwing it down on the bed.

“I’d hate to make you, Bakugou, but you may just force my hand,” Kirishima shook his head slowly as if in disappointment, only making Bakugou’s brows cross in confusion.

“The fuck do you mean ‘make me,’ you idiot?! You can’t force me to do shit, and I’m not fucking playing this game with you,” Bakugou pushed, and to anyone else it definitely wouldn’t sounded like he meant it. But Kirishima knew Bakugou far, far too well. He could hear the competition in his voice, see the spark of want in his eyes that just said ‘please fight me on this.’ He wanted a challenge. Kirishima could see that. And boy was he gonna give it to him.

“Oh, but can’t I?” Kirishima’s voice sounded almost taunting, and once he saw that Bakugou was looking at him with competitiveness painted all over his face, he brought both of his hands up to wiggle fingers menacingly towards the boy.

Bakugou instantly knew what he meant. And if the fact he immediately closed his drink and sat it on his nightstand was no indication that he wanted this to continue, the way he backed up on his bed cautiously with wide eyes instead of immediately fighting Kirishima back most definitely was.

He was excited.

“Kirishima, don’t you fucking dare,” Bakugou pressed through a lie, his eyes never once looking away from those still wiggling fingers taunting him in the air, as if too embarrassed to look Kirishima in the eyes and completely give it away that he wanted this, he wanted the fight. He didn’t have to look for Kirishima to know, though. The redhead was still able to see Bakugou’s face even if Bakugou wouldn’t look at him, and he could see the giddiness behind his wall of caution, which only pushed him to continue.

“Then let’s play the game, Bakugou,” Kirishima grinned as Bakugou gave him no response, only backing further away until finally Kirishima pounced, tackling and fighting Bakugou to the bed. This was the least Bakugou had ever put up a fight with him. Kirishima knew how Bakugou fought, he knew just how skilled and precise his moves always were, and he was giving Kirishima practically none of that. Though he did technically fight his way down, he was still inevitably completely tackled and pinned by the redhead, which almost never happened in their regular spars and play fights.

Kirishima forced Bakugou’s arms up above his head, the hardening hero-in-training using his quirk to keep the boy’s hands pinned there for good. His body hovered over Bakugou’s, a rather compromising position if they were to be walked into, but neither boy cared about that in the moment. They were too focused on the excitement and unadulterated giddiness bubbling in the pit of their bellies, and as Kirishima gazed down at Bakugou with a look of mischief in his eyes, Bakugou knew he knew. Kirishima knew Bakugou wanted this, and now the blonde was aware of that. Bakugou couldn’t quite tell if that made this better or worse.

“Fine then. We can play a different game. How about…” Kirishima paused, mocking as if in hard thought as Bakugou’s lips twitched, his eyes wide in a skittish anticipation. Kirishima finally let out a small pretend gasp, looking down at Bakugou before raising up his free hand in a claw shape. “...Claw.”

Bakugou’s eyes could not have been any wider. His cheeks were stained pink, and he squirmed under Kirishima’s pin, “No, nonono don’t you dare fucking touch me you red piece of shit, I swear to god I’ll fucking-HNG!” Bakugou choked on his words, eyes slamming shut as he felt five meticulous fingers skittered over his now bare tummy, as Kirishima must have pushed up his shirt while Bakugou was too busy threatening. Those nails were fucking torturous against his skin, his nerves lighting up and sparking with a specific feeling he hadn’t felt in what had to be years now. It was so bad, so so bad, but...god, he didn’t realize just how much he had missed this feeling until now.

“Uh oh,” Kirishima’s voice held a teasing tone that made Bakugou shake his head, still trying desperately to hold back any and all giggles that threatened to crawl from his gut. Kirishima chuckled darkly. “Looks like someone’s a little ticklish, huh?”

Bakugou only continued to shake his head from side to side, tugging at his pinned arms with no real fervor behind it. Kirishima couldn’t help the smile on his face seeing the boy like this, so flustered and obviously having a good time at something so cute. He could tell Bakugou was desperately trying to contain his giggles, which was definitely his average pride slipping through, but there was no way Kirishima was just going to let that slide.

With a smirk evil enough to send shivers down the blonde’s spine, Kirishima finally dug in, vibrating all five of his fingers into the boy’s taut abdomen. Bakugou howled, arching his back and kicking wildly behind Kirishima as loud giggles and squeals escaped his ever-excited being.

“NAHAHAHA! KIRISHIMAHAHAHA!” Bakugou screamed, those fingers never relenting in their claw-shaped torment on his belly. “SHIHIHIT AHAHAHA!”

“Damn, Bakugou, you’re really ticklish,” Kirishima chuckled, massaging his fingers into the boy’s muscles, causing his to spasm like he’d been shocked, screaming and kicking and cursing all the while.

“FUHUHUCK YOHOHOU AHAHAHA!” Bakugou guffawed, twisting and turning his body every which way as if he was trying to escape the mirthful torment Kirishima was putting him through. Suddenly, all at once, the tickling stopped, and Bakugou let in a gasp of air he didn’t even realize he needed. He opened his eyes and glared at Kirishima hovering above him, the redhead daunting a sinister grin that made Bakugou’s tummy do summersaults.

“What did you just say to me?” Kirishima questioned menacingly, bringing his free hand up to now hold Bakugou’s wrists in both hands, quickly bringing them both down under his knees with no fight from the blonde, who seemed to be frozen in...fear? Excitement? Either way, his eyes were blown wide, his chest heaving slightly from the attack and small titters still threatening to escape. But Bakugou was never one to back away from a challenge, no matter his condition. He couldn’t help the small twitch at the corners of his lips as he looked up to Kirishima in competition.

“I said: Fuck. You,” Bakugou spat out, and Kirishima could feel his body tense under him after he spoke the fierce words, almost like he was bracing himself for the inevitable. Kirishima shook his head with a grin, raising both his hands up in the air to once again wiggle tauntingly towards his victim.

“Oh, you are so gonna regret that,” Kirishima chuckled, lowering his hands down slowly towards the boy’s quivering belly. His stomach sucked in as if trying to evade the wiggly fingers, Bakugou’s eyes large and never looking away from those claws hovering over his sensitive torso.

Finally, his fingers touched down, skittering over the boy’s lower tummy and making his breath hitch, pursing his lips tightly and slamming his eyes shut at the teasing sensations. Kirishima’s fingers wandered and scribbled all over the boy’s torso, and for a few seconds Bakugou was able to keep his reactions at bay. That is, until Kirishima skittered on a spot right at the base of Bakugou’s ribs, causing the boy to jolt with a small yelp. Kirishima couldn’t contain his chuckle at the reaction.

“Ohoho, there it is,” Kirishima drawled, pinching at the spot that made Bakugou squirm. Bakugou growled, almost like he was trying to keep any cute little giggles to himself, but those incessant pinches just wouldn’t let up, and in seconds time he was a giggling mess under Kirishima’s touch.

“Nohoho! Fuhuhuck shihihit!- AHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHA!” Bakugou practically screamed when he felt Kirishima vibrate his index and middle finger into that spot at his lower ribs right where it meets his back. He arched his spine up, kicking fruitlessly behind Kirishima’s body and cackling like a child all the while. “YOHOHOU BAHAHASTARD! YOHOHOU FUHUHUCKING SHIHIHIT!”

“Well that’s really no way to talk to your best friend, now is it?” Kirishima tsked, clawing at Bakugou’s ribs and eliciting more screeches and cackles from the sensitive teen. “You’re so much more ticklish than I thought you’d be, I am loving this.”

“STAHAHAP SAHAHAYING THAHAHAT!” Bakugou shook his head back and forth, clenching his fists hard under Kirishima’s knees as if trying to keep himself from exploding the both of them both to ashes.

“What? That you’re ticklish?” Kirishima tilted his head with a smirk, pinching up and down the boy’s ribs rapidly, making his laughs soar up in pitch. “Cause, I mean, you are. You’re like, super duper ticklish! But it’s fine cause it’s totally cute,” Kirishima said the last bit without really meaning to, blushing slightly at his blunt statement, but deciding against ending the ticklish torment over it.

“NAHAHAHA! I’M NOHOHOT CUHUHUTE!” Bakugou denied through his cackles, continuing to shake his head in playful anguish. “FUHUHUCK OHOHOHFF!”

“Hmm...I don’t think I will. In fact, there’s a few more tickle spots I wanna try out, so you’re just gonna have to keep a-giggling for me, Bakubro,” Kirishima chuckled, taking his hands off the boy for a moment to give him a breather. Small breathy giggles and titters continued to spill from Bakugou’s lips during his rest, his head leaning back against the pillow in almost exhaustion. Kirishima leaned forward, placing both of his hands beside the boy’s head, leaving his face to hover over the boy’s own blushed one. Bakugou’s eyes widened a bit at the invasion of personal space, but never made an effort to push him off. Kirishima tilted his head like a curious puppy, “You’re okay, right? You don’t like, totally hate this? Cause I can stop if you really want me to.”

Bakugou’s cheeks were splattered pink, his eyes averting their gaze from the boy on top of him. He squirmed a tad under Kirishima’s straddle, shoulders hunching up slightly in embarrassment. “I mean...it’s not...the worst thing in the world…” Bakugou grumbled into his shoulder, eyes still refusing to meet the red-head’s own.

Kirishima grinned down at Bakugou, using one hand to gently cup Bakugou’s chin and turn his head to face his own. “I knew you didn’t hate it. I just wanted you to say it out loud,” he giggled at the blonde’s flustered and shocked expression, before quickly shooting his hands down to squeeze at Bakugou’s ribs with extreme ticklish precision. Bakugou shouted a cackle at the sudden change, his head shaking from side to side and eyes scrunching closed once more.

“OHOHO YOHOHU MOTHERFUHUHUCKER!” Bakugou guffawed, clawing at the sheets under Kirishima’s knees. Kirishima just giggled, working both of his middle fingers in between the tight spot where Bakugou’s arms were clamped against his ribs, digging into the spot just below his underarms that Masaru had told him about.

Bakugou shrieked, kicking harder than before as wave after wave of loud, unfiltered squeals and cackles left his chest.

“SHIHIHIHIT! FUHUHUCK OH MY GAHAHAD! NAHAHAT THEHEHERE! NAHAHAT THAHAHAT SPOHOHOT YOU FUHUHUCK!” He screamed through his laughter, opening an eye to glare at Kirishima through his mirthful tears. Kirishima sported the biggest, shark-toothed grin he could probably muster, and it sent fluttering butterflies throughout the inside of Bakugou’s entire torso.

“Aww, is this spot bad, buddy? This spot tickle?~” Kirishima cooed, his fingers never relenting as they wiggled and dug into that one torutrous little spot that had Bakugou howling.

“FUHUHUCK YOHOHU! YEHEHES! IT T-AHAHA! IT FUHUHUCKING TI-HEHEHE!” Bakugou couldn’t even get the flustering word out through all of his cackles and squeals, which amused Kirishima to no end.

“God how are you so adorable like this,” Kirishima sighed, finally bringing his fingers back down to teasingly scribble and wiggle all over Bakugou’s bare tummy. Bakugou dissolved into a puddle of high-pitched, breathy giggles, that had Kirishima fawning over him in seconds. “You’re so giggly, and I didn’t even know you could giggle before this!”

“Shuhuhut uhuhup!” Bakugou practically whined through his giggles, his cheeks so pink and warm Kirishima could just melt in the cuteness of his flustered face.

“Oooh, I wonder if your belly button is ticklish too,” Kirishima eyed the little navel that bounced through Bakugou’s laughter, one of his fingers travelling over to circle around the button teasingly.

“NO! Nohoho, dohohon’t! Plehehease!” Bakugou pleaded, though Kirishima knew it was all just a front.

“Wow, I’ve got THE Katsuki Bakugou begging right now? Who knew I’d ever see the day!” Kirishima chuckled, worming a teasing nail into the navel and causing Bakugou to shriek and jerk underneath him. “Aww, it’s like a little giggle button!”

“Dohohon’t sahahay that stuhupid shihit!” Bakugou tittered, goosebumps forming all over his tummy from the feather-light way Kirishima scribbled over the skin.

“Alright, oneeee more place I wanna try, then we get back to Minecraft. Deal?” Kirishima moved his fingers to scribble slowly up and down the boy’s sides to let him respond, delighted at the way the movement made him squirm.

“Fihihine, whatehehever,” Bakugou braced himself for the final attack, gasping when he felt Kirishima’s hands leave his sides and rest on the top of his thighs. “Shit, shihit, shit, wahahait-!”

“Oh, this is a good spot, isn’t it?~” Kirishima teased, squeezing the muscle once to see Bakugou jerk and shriek under him. “Yup. Looks like a good one to me.”

“Ohoho plehehease, I cahahan’t, it’s so bahahad-” Bakugou whined, squirming and giggling despite Kirishima’s tickling on his thighs to even start yet.

“You’re a super ticklish guy, Bakugou, but you’re also super tough and manly. I know you can take it!” Kirishima hyped him up with a smile, just making Bakugou groan and roll his eyes with a snicker. “C’mon! Tell me you can take it!”

Bakugou huffed, gazing over at Kirishima’s face that plastered that stupid goofy grin of his. God why does he have to be so cute, Bakugou thought as he sighed with another eye roll.

“Fine, whatever, I can take it, just...fuckin get it over with already, you’re killing me heRE-HRGN! FFFAHAHAHAHA OH SHIHIHIT!” Bakugou keened, cackling and thrashing himself from side to side as both of Kirishima’s hands massaged into his upper thighs. The sensation was torturous, beyond torturous, his nerves were on fire and his muscles were pulsing under those terrible wiggling fingers, but if he could choose it, he’d feel like this forever if it were by the hands of that stupid fucking redhead.

“Damn, this must tickle bad , huh? You’re losing your mind!” Kirishima giggled, squeezing at those sensitive muscles like his life depended on it.

“FUHUHUCK! YEHEHES IT’S SO BAHAHAD! KIRIHIMAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEASE!” Bakugou pleaded and begged, tiny droplets of mirth finally pooling at the corners of his eyes despite his best wishes. Kirishima could tell the blonde was finally reaching his limits, and slowed his fingers down until he was just resting his hands on top of the boy’s thighs comfortingly, rubbing up and down the sides to soothe the still giggling boy.

Kirishima smiled down at Bakugou who was still coming down from his giggle high, titters that could light up a whole room spilling from his lips and making Kirishima’s heart swell. “You alive, man?”

Bakugou coughed out his last giggle, still breathing heavy before giving Kirishima a lazy nod. Kirishima giggled, gently climbing off the boy and laying down beside him on the bed. Bakugou brought his hands up to rub at his still flushed face, and Kirishima couldn’t keep his eyes off of him. The red-head was grinning ear-to-ear, and he could tell that under the palms of those calloused hands covering Bakugou’s face, the blonde was too.

After a few more moments of comfortable silence, Bakugou brought his hands down, turning his head to face Kirishima with a small smile still visible, only on the corners of his lips. “You almost killed me, you bastard.”

“Sorry, you were...you were just really cute like that. I’ve never seen you giggle before,” Kirishima chuckled sheepishly, eyeing Bakugou’s nearly forgotten drink still sitting on the nightstand. He pointed over to it, Bakugou’s following the direction of his finger. “You should probably get a drink, you were laughing pretty hard there.”

Bakugou huffed, his cheeks flushing only slightly at the comment, but he still rolled over to grab the drink and turn back around to face the redhead. “Shut up, I can’t help it.”

“Yeah, I know...too ticklish for your own good, huh?” Kirishima snickered, Bakugou punching his shoulder playfully while taking a sip of his milk. Kirishima rubbed the spot Bakugou punched with a grin. “I’m being serious, though. You really did look cute like that.”

Bakugou’s eyes refused to meet Kirishima’s. His hands cupped tightly around the bottle in his lap, thumbs fiddling with the plastic wrapper encasing it. Kirishima could see how flustered he looked despite their eyes not meeting and he almost felt a little guilty. But Bakugou finally glanced up towards Kirishima, and for the first time ever, the blonde looked...shy. “Do you really think that or are you trying to fuck with me right now? Cause it’s not very nice to fucking flirt with someone if you don’t mean it.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened a little at his bluntness to call it what it was; flirting. “Well, y-yeah. Yeah I meant it. For real,” Kirishima said, but he could tell Bakugou wasn’t sure if he meant it. Kirishima furrowed his brows, cupping Bakugou’s chin gently like he had while attacking the boy just minutes ago, turning his head so their eyes would meet. He stared intently at him, making sure his expression was as genuine as a person could be. “I’m serious, Bakugou. I...I think you’re really attractive,” Kirishima saw how Bakugou’s eyes moved, how he felt frozen under his touch but still somehow looked like he wanted to squirm. “You’re cute and super manly, which I didn’t even know could be a real combination until I met you. You’re...you’re my favorite person, Bakugou.”

They sat like that for a moment. Kirishima brought his hand back down to rest in his own lap, but their eyes never left each other. That was, until, Bakugou’s eyes drifted downward towards Kirishima’s lips. Kirishima’s heart faltered for a minute at the gaze, feeling hair standing up at the back of his neck. Bakugou’s eyes darted back up to Kirishima, a tilt forward in his head that asked Kirishima ‘is this okay?’ Kirishima just nodded with half-lidded eyes, before Bakugou slowly leaned forward, his own eyes closing as their faces finally met in the middle when Kirishima pushed his own head forward.

Their lips brushed shyly against one another, as if cautious and unsure if this was an okay thing to do, before Kirishima pushed into it, forcing their lips together. Bakugou brought a hand up to cup at Kirishima’s cheek, Kirishima doing the same to Bakugou. Bakugou felt like he was going to melt, or explode, or disintegrate or...or just keep kissing Kirishima until he couldn’t breathe.

After what felt like an eternity, they pulled apart, breathless and hazy. Kirishima opened his eyes first, and when Bakugou opened his and looked at Kirishima with those shy little eyes he didn’t have before, Kirishima couldn’t help but dissolve into a fit of giggles. His laugh was always too contagious, damnit, and before he knew it Bakugou was giggling along with him and he didn’t even know why.

When he finally caught his breath, Kirishima slumped back against the pillows of Bakugou’s bed, Bakugou following him to lay there and stare questioningly. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just...you tasted like strawberry milk.”

Bakugou paused for a moment, before chuckling, shoving at Kirishima playfully as they both snickered. “You’re a fucking dork.”

“Hm, maybe,” Kirishima giggled as he brought his face back closer towards Bakugou’s, meeting their lips once again in a soft kiss that lasted forever.

Kirishima would definitely have to thank Mr. Bakugou later for that helpful information about his son, because now their night tasted like strawberry milk and giggles, and Kirishima didn’t want anything else in the entire world than just that.

. . .

A/N : hope you guys enjoyed that, sorry its so fucking long LMAOO i got very carried away. it took me a while to write and ive got a fucking headache so imma go lay down now, MUCH LOVE!! <33

#tickle fic #my fic #tickling #tickle community #mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #anime tickles #anime tickling #kiribaku #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #kirishima #kirishima eijrio #ticklish!bakugou #lee!bakugou #ler!kirishima #mha tickles #mha tickling

[gucciwins]

Roses and Romeo

Harry and Y/N come back to their hometown after eight years to open up a time capsule they buried ten years ago as high school sophomores. 

Word count: 20,534

A/N: Hello beautiful friends, hope you’ve been well. I’m really excited to share this story. It is a former high school sweethearts to lovers. Thank you to @havethetimeofyourstyles Jill for creating timetravelathon and allowing me to participate. I am very sorry it’s later but I finished!!! I do hope you all love it. 

Also this story is my baby, because i’ve never hit 20k before so this was new and exciting. I just had so many ideas for the story.

please come and tell me your favorite part!

_____

DECEMBER 1989 - SENIOR YEAR 

It's December, and all that is on her mind is how the grass would look covered in snow. The cold breeze, an extra jacket to stay warm, a blanket to bundle up with her favorite person. Safe to say, she can only imagine it because California, specifically Southern California, isn't so keen on giving her this one gift she asks for each year.

A huge smile spreads over her face as soon as she sees her house up ahead. 

It's not huge, but it is perfect for Y/N. She has the best memories growing up in a house full of love and laughter and the most gorgeous flowers. The iris and tulips bloomed extra bright this year. There is never a day her mom isn't fixing the garden. Her mother always makes sure she has fresh flowers in her room; right now, for the week, she has purple tulips. Also makes a lovely gift to take to her boyfriend. Harry always blushes when she brings him flowers. 

It also gets her extra kisses. 

Harry parks right outside but doesn't rush out to open her door like always, so she turns to look at him. He's tapping his fingers on the steering wheel; she patiently waits for him to speak up. 

She'd wait all day if she could; he has a beautiful face, one that she will never get tired of gazing at. She especially loves that curl that flops down over his forehead; as much as he pushes it away, it bounces back as if he never moved it.

"It's Friday, love." Harry begins, "I think you should consider coming with me to a party." 

She pouts. "No, I want to listen to that new record my dad found, and I also have lots to study. Big exam on Monday."

"You're always studying." He groans. 

She frowns. "Not true! Calculus is my biggest enemy. Mr. Leanza is not easy on us." 

"Okay, Miss 101%." He pokes her cheek. 

She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest in annoyance. 

"I'm not going to go just for you to tease me." 

Harry leans over and steals a kiss before she can dodge him. "Let's play a game." He sees her roll her eyes but asks her to hear him out. 

She gestures for him to go on. "I go in and quiz you. Zero wrong out of all the flashcards you have in that bag of yours, and I get to take you with me. I already have parent permission. I'll have you know."

She narrows her eyes at him. Not ever surprised that her parents agreed, they trust Harry. He's given them no reason not to. She's about to tell him, no, but he gives her a big smile. His dimples are on full display, and she finds herself agreeing. 

She mutters a small "okay." 

Harry smiles, knowing how she likes to make him work for it, but he really enjoys finding new ways to win her over. He might have cheated, flashing her his dimples that he knows she can't resist, but he never said he played fair. "Only if I get to drive Nessie." 

Nessie is Harry's classy white 1966 Mercedes-Benz 230 SL. She was never interested in cars, but Harry speaks so fondly of his car that she has come to learn so much about it and loves it just as much as Harry and her father together taught her how to change a tire and check the oil on Nessie. They want to prepare her for anything, and she is thankful because Harry likes to test her from time to time. 

Harry smirked, knowing how much she loves driving. She loves it but does not cave in letting her parents get her a car. Her parents have wanted to get her a car since she got her license at sixteen, but Y/N claims it is too much money to spend.

Her parents tell her they have saved enough for her and her education. It's like raising an only child. They remind Y/N all the time since her brother has graduated university and now lives in San Francisco as an engineer in a growing company. 

Harry has been meeting discreetly behind her back with her parents on gifting her a car this Christmas. Although he fears that having a car will mean less of him driving her around. Meaning they will spend less time together and fewer backseat make-out sessions, but on an upside also means he'd have to help her christen it. 

"Darling, you dating me for my car?" 

"Yes, dearie. I started dating you back in our first year because you had Nessie, not because of those dimples and lame jokes.

"You told me you love them!" Harry gasps, offended. 

"Tell you what you want to hear." She shrugs, getting out of the car. 

"Hurting my feelings, love." Harry now stands in front of her taking her bag from her hand and closing the door behind her. 

"Let's get inside." She pushes him to walk in quickly, knowing her parents aren't home yet and her mom isn't due for another thirty minutes, and she would really love to squeeze in a make-out session. 

"Compliment me, then we can go in." Harry stands firm in front of her, a teasing glimmer in his emerald eyes. 

She reaches up and places her hands on his cheek, planting a small kiss on his nose.  

"You're a dreamboat, Styles." She whispers.

Harry can't help the blush that seems to be taking over his entire face. 

She pecks his lips and skips around him. "Let's get studying, then you can help me pick my outfit for later." 

Harry shakes himself out of the trance she always seems to leave him in. "God knows you need it

JUNE 1998 - SUMMER HOME 

Y/N had always known she was a bit crazy but honestly, deciding on making a 44-hour road trip from Massachusetts to California, where her hometown of Aurora takes the cake. 

Yes, she knows how unsafe it is to be a woman on the road alone, but she saved up for the trip and would be spending the entire summer home for the first time since graduating high school. A plus was that she knows the map really well, having studied it hard like one of her anatomy books. Also, helped that her father quizzed her on what roads and exits she would be taking. 

She's a good driver; her father always told her everyone else is who she had to watch out for. Honestly, she thanked her family for pushing her to drive more, and now she loves being behind the wheel. 

The road was never-ending, taking her where she wanted, and currently, she was aiming for home. 

It's four hours until she reaches home, a home she has not lived in for over eight years. A place that holds her most precious memories as well as most heartbreaking.

She's driving with the window down, enjoying the breeze, knowing the heat will only get worse the closer to home. A car passes next to her; she looks over briefly, taking in the vehicle's blue color. It does look a bit old; as the driver accelerates their speed, she notices that it's a Mercedes-Benz but can't make the model seeing as the driver must be eager to reach their destination now speeding off. If she's honest, those types of cars remind her of one person, and that's how she knows she'll never escape because she finds meaning for them in anything and everything life has to offer. 

The last few hours on the road pass relatively quickly because the next thing she knows, she's parking her Jeep Cherokee in what she used to call her parking. This car has spent nine years with her and runs like a dream. It was a gift from her parents, and at the time, she was nervous about the gesture but really grew to love it. It also came in handy, seeing as she now lives far from home and visits as much as she can. She hopes to make more trips up now that she has residency but knows it will be harder to get holidays off. 

Her parents understand; they do. She's following her dreams and achieving each one, and that is all they could ever ask for. 

Y/N gets out and gets her suitcase; it has her essentials and anything she's missing; she can come out later to get it, well her father will most likely fight her and do it on his own. 

Just as she is about to open the door, it swings open. Her mother doesn't give her any time to react and simply wraps her in a hug. A tight one full of love and happiness, an embrace she will never get tired of. 

"Hi, momma," Y/N murmurs, not at all ready to let go.

"Hello, my sweet girl. It's good to have you home." 

"It's good being here. Feel younger already." 

"Ah, same here. Come inside; I have lemonade served up and muffins because they are your favorite." 

Y/N smiles, knowing how much her mother made sure to have her well-fed always. No matter what she told her, she wanted her with meat on her bones. This also meant anyone who she brought home was given a big meal as well. Telling everyone and anyone they were too thin then proceeding to provide them with a second serving. This was her mother's way of getting into people's hearts through their stomachs. 

Y/N walked into the kitchen and smiled at how nothing had changed. Hanging on the refrigerator were her three graduation photos: high school at seventeen, ready to take the world by storm, at twenty-one graduating with the highest honor from Columbia University, and the last was graduating Harvard Medical school this past spring. She knew the next to join would be a photo of her on the first day of her residency. 

"Your father refuses to take any down; when your brother comes into town, he complains. Your dad shuts him up by telling him to go be a doctor, and then they could talk." 

It warms Y/N's heart that her parents are proud of all the accomplishments she has made. It's been a tough road, but nothing stops her until she accomplishes her goals, and starting her residency is the next stop. 

"Like dad's office is covered full of his accomplishments since entering that job in San Francisco." She jokes, transitioning the conversation away from herself.

"The oldest child always seems to be the most jealous." Her mother reminds her.

After eating a muffin or two, her mom sends her off on a walk, not wanting her to be cooped up in the house on her first day back. She has always loved walking around. It's something she did when her friends weren't able to offer her a ride. Also, her parents would walk her to the park every weekend growing up to run around in the grass and ruin more clothes with grass stains.

It's no surprise that she arrives at the entrance of the town's park. It looks like there is no one around until she really enters and finds a family seated on a picnic planet as their youngest tries feeding their oldest strawberries. It's a sweet sight. 

She keeps going, not at all wanting to disturb; soon enough, she enters the part of the park no one really visits and finds the old park bench with lots of initials carved in the wood, hers included. It creaks as she sits on it; she smiles, knowing that it is something that has not changed. 

There aren't many flowers in this corner, just a big willow tree offering her shade that she very much enjoys. 

It's nice being home, she's missed it, but she has loved living in new places, making new friends and connections. She spent her first four years in New York, and she loved the environment. It was a university filled with thousands of people never seeing the same face twice in the halls. Everyone was always in a rush to get somewhere but not here, not at home. Everyone stops her for a conversation. They talk to her as if no time has happened, as if she was still the young girl who helped her mom tend the garden each weekend. 

In a way, she always will be. 

She wanted this time to explore and travel because she knows this where she'll come back one day to lay her roots. She and her future husband will marry here, maybe at the botanical garden with the beautiful flower arch all year round. It's where she sees her children growing up and running around as she once did. She's got her residency to finish up, but she's looking forward to when she can call Aurora home again. 

After sitting for a while, she decides she will come back with a book or two next time. If she's going to be here all summer might as well start by doing some reading on books she has not gotten around to reading. Y/N is thinking about leaving when her eyes spot a couple coming down a hidden path, a small daisy behind the girl's ear, her arm tight around her boyfriend's arm. He's got the biggest smile on his face. They look so lost in each other, one can feel their love. 

It reminds her of when she used to do that. When she did that with Harry before they broke up and never spoke again. It breaks her heart, but it also brings back some of the best memories. He'd always bring her here just so they could talk for hours so that she'd tell him more about the flowers and to kiss in private. 

One of her favorite memories is when they were in their third year of high school, and he asked to meet for a surprise. She stands up and shakes the memory away, not wanting to get lost in her thoughts. It's harder to do now that she's home and she can see him everywhere she looks. 

With that last thought brushed away, she decides to walk back home. She's got a few days to herself before meeting with everyone; there was the big reason she was back in town. 

It was time to open a box of memories. 

APRIL 1989 - JUNIOR YEAR

Harry is up to something. 

She suspects something because he made her walk to the park when he would always be quick to offer her a ride. Sure, it's only a ten-minute walk from her house, but he always says something along the lines that not everyone is as kind as they seem. 

It's April, and the flowers are in full bloom. She hears the birds singing, and she swears they sing of the beauty of the flowers. It's also bee season, meaning lots will be around the park, and as much as she loves them, Harry has a big fear of them. Y/N has mentioned various times that they don't mean to harm him; it can just happen. Especially if they get startled.

Y/N takes note of a new flower; it's a small white four-petaled flower that grows in fragrant clusters. They smell divine, but she knows she has never seen them. She really wishes she had her father's polaroid on her to take a photo and show her mother. Any other day she would turn back to do just that, but Harry is waiting on her. 

She walks to the back of the park where Harry has claimed their spot, their initials carved in the bench make sure of that. He's standing next to the viola's, and they stand dull next to Harry. 

"Hiya, angel." Harry greets hands hiding behind his back.

"Hello." She greets softly; Harry can easily note she's nervous. Any other time she would have given him the biggest hug, but right now is keeping an appropriate distance. 

"Are you nervous?" He teases, which honestly calms her down because if he's teasing her, it surely means he doesn't want to break up so she can toss that idea right out. 

The last few ideas left are that it's an important anniversary and she's forgotten, or he just wanted to be romantic. 

She hopes it's the latter. 

"Not so much anymore." She replies truthfully, stepping closer, desperately wanting to give him a hug. He looks warm in his knitted baby blue sweater; she knows it was a Christmas gift from his grandmother, his new favorite. 

 If he's not wearing his cardigan, he's wearing his varsity jacket, but it's at the dry cleaners because when it's not in his possession, it's in hers. She likes the heaviness of it, how small it makes her look. Harry is the perfect height, standing at what she thinks is 6'0, but she can't be too sure. His broad shoulders only seem to grow stronger each summer after returning from two weeks of football camp. At this point, she wears his varsity jacket more than he does. Sure, she can get an academic one she has more than enough patches to choose from, but it just isn't the same; besides, she rather spend her money on books and records. 

Harry tells her his favorite thing about her wearing his jacket is that it has his last name. He knows marriage is long down the line, but he does hope to share the same last name one day. 

It's his most prominent dream.

But currently, his big dream at the age of seventeen is asking the prettiest girl to prom. 

Harry brings his hands forward to reveal a dozen lavender roses in his hand. Y/N gasps at their beauty, not at all expecting this. They are gorgeous, and she can't wait to show them off to her mom as soon as she gets home. 

"My love," Harry starts closing the gap between them and bringing her left hand to his lips to place a soft kiss before setting it back down to rest close to his heart that is beating just for her. "Will you do me the honor of being my date to prom?"

She smiles wide, not at all expecting him to ask, let alone for it to be this romantic and intimate. 

"Yes, of course." She wraps her arms around his neck, and Harry spins her around, letting out a small holler of excitement. 

"The roses are beautiful; they must have cost you a pretty penny," Y/N tells him as soon as he sets her down so she can admire them again.

"Well, darling. You're worth every one. It also pays that your mom gets on well with the town's florist." 

She giggles, nodding. 

"Now, how about we walk over to my car and celebrate with a make-out." Harry wiggles his eyebrows at her, knowing he needs very little to convince her. 

"Harry!" She chastises, looking around to see if anyone heard, but the park is empty, not a soul in sight. "How about we take a stroll around the park, then we'll see afterward." 

"You're a little tease, love." She leans in and pecks his lips two times. He tries for a third, but she hurries off. 

"Come on, dove. We've got to see the rest of the flowers that are blooming." Y/N's voice is full of excitement at the chance of walking around the park for the next hour, hand in hand with her boyfriend. 

Harry grins happily, following after her, he may be young, but he knows he will do whatever is in his power to always see her happy and smiling.

JUNE 1998 - HOME

"Dad!" She yells as soon as she walks in the door; she sees him stand quickly from his seat on the couch and embraces her in a big hug.

"My baby is home." He whispers. 

"I missed you." 

"I missed you too, sweetheart."

"How was work?" 

"Awful, when I knew I had my two favorite girls at home waiting for me."

Y/N laughs. "Always a sap, dad." 

Her mother makes her presence known. "This is a lovely sight. I've missed it." 

"Yes, as have I." Her father gives her one last kiss to her head and lets her go. 

"Any plans?" Her mother questions walking back from the kitchen, placing a cup of tea for Y/N on an old family coaster. 

Y/N takes a seat on the couch, as do both her parents wanting to carry on the conversation.

"I'm meeting Sarah and Sydney for breakfast one of these days, most likely going to spend the entire day together. Then, everyone else won't be coming around until the week after. Think it will be on Friday, seeing as that is what worked for everyone's schedule. 

"Happy to see your friends." Her mom states, the wide smile on Y/N’s face confirming her statement.

"Yes, chatting isn't as easy as when we were in high school seeing each other that day. There are lots of emails sent back and forth between us." 

"Glad you girls stayed closed. Was worried you would all drift away." She reaches forward to squeeze Y/N's knee. 

Y/N knew she meant it about Harry. How no one thought anything would come between them that they would make it through university and settle down soon after. Oh, how wrong they all were. As much as they hoped for the best, they were each other's downfall. 

"It's a bit late; I'm going to shower and head to bed instead."

"Before you go, can I say something?"

Y/N recognizes the gleam in her mother's eye and nods, knowing she has to get this off her chest. 

"It's sadly a man's world out there, but you have managed to make it your own." She reaches forward and takes Y/N's hand in hers, pressing a gentle kiss before settling it in her lap. Y/N smiles. "I know you long to love and share it with someone, and I want you to remember that the person for you is out there. As a mother, I know these things, and I wish you nothing but the greatest things in life, but they all come when we are ready for it."

Tears well up in Y/N's eyes, she nods. Not replying to her mother's words because she knows if she speaks, she will cry. 

"Lorelai, you made her cry." He whispers, pulling both women into a squished hug. 

"I've always had your father, and I hope you find that someone for yourself." 

She pulls back and wipes her tears away. "Thank you." Y/N leaves her parents with a final hug.

She heads up the stairs to the room that holds all the memories she has kept locked away. In her home, there are no longer any photos of her friends or of him. Not like before, where they were spotted on every wall displayed for all to see. Her mother took them off after she left for university. It broke her mother's heart to see her suffer such a big heartbreak. Harry had become like another son to her parents, so they were all sharing the heartbreak. She missed everything about him, but it has been years since they last spoke. 

It's been eight years since they last talked, last kissed but not the last she's thought of him. He's coming for the time capsule opening, and as much as she tries to convince herself she's going to be alright, she knows she's not. Yes, she's moved on. She has built a life without him in it, but it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. 

All she can do is count the days until she leaves Aurora and goes back to the comfort of her apartment in Massachusetts. 

____

It's been a week since she's been home, and she knows everyone will show up in two days. The friends she was sure she'd never lose touch with but slowly did with time no matter how each tried, but life moves on. 

Y/N is nervous to see everyone. She's changed in the last eight years, but so has everyone else. She misses what they used to have in high school but honestly, getting to hear what everyone has been up to will be fun. Who knows, it might feel as if not time has passed at all? 

She met up with Sarah and Sydney earlier for breakfast at the old dinner. The girls spent a good five minutes embraced in a hug before they took their seats. They ordered too much to eat but, to no surprise, finished it all by the end of their conversation. 

The time together was spent mostly catching up and jumping from topic to topic. She did feel she was asked one too many questions about starting her residency and how they will be addressing her as a "doctor."

Y/N brought up Sarah's love life wanting to hear how they were doing. Sarah and Mitch did not start dating until after graduating high school, finding out they were going to the same university just an hour away from their hometown. Everyone was aware of Mitch's heart eyes for Sarah, but she was too focused on her internship, always wanting to do good. One can imagine how happy everyone was when news spread that Sarah asked Mitch out and was quick to say yes. Now eight years later, were happily moved in together. Sarah is a music engineer, and Mitch a music teacher at the local high school; as mellow as Mitch is, he gets on well with the teens. 

Having focused on love and Sydney quickly saying nothing new was going on with her, just that she was more in love than she could have ever imagined, it was time to hound Y/N, it seems. They asked about her love life and how good-looking the boys in Massachusetts are.

Y/N told them how nonexistent her love life has been since she graduated high school. It's not something she ever made time for, and her friends understand as much as they hate that for her. Sydney did not stop herself from making a joke on what seems to be Y/N's long dry spell. She shrugged it off, not at all bothered. Y/N assured them she knows how to take care of her own needs until the right person comes along. They all knew who she hoped would be the right person, but they knew better than to bring him up.

Once again, there was a change of pace. Sarah surprised them with tickets to Spice Girls at a sold-out Madison Square Garden concert on July first. Six tickets, a perfect number for their friend group. It was perfect, honestly. Sarah figured they'd road trip up the last week of June and could stay in Y/N's shared apartment with her roommate, who would not be home yet. Then take a train up to New York for the show. Also, told them they'd have hotel rooms for the night already, having an idea there would be an after-party. Y/N was all for it as was Sydney. 

Y/N has always loved concerts; it's something she saves for not bothered to spend some money to enjoy a great show for one of her favorite artists, especially in good company. The long queues were a downfall, but not everything is perfect. She has gone to concerts and knows that one can make the best experience out of floor seats and nosebleeds. Artists never fail to amaze. 

It reminds her of the first concert she ever went to that Harry took her to their senior year. The ticket stub she has pinned next to a polaroid that a stranger offered to take for them. It was before the show, and they had matching grins. It's still one of her favorites, and the reason she doesn't take it down is too good of a memory to keep hidden away. 

While seeing Sarah and Sydney was good and everything she hoped it would be, it did not prepare her to see the others. She had not talked to Zac in a long while, having no idea what he was up to. Mitch is quiet and only says hello when she has called with Sarah and Harry; well, it's like she doesn't exist to him. Not since their last day together. 

Y/N has two days to prepare.

Two days to wrap her head around the fact that she's going to see Harry. 

AUGUST 1989 - SENIOR YEAR

Many people told her to enjoy her high school years because they would fly by, and she accepted the advice and made memories to last a lifetime in the three years leading up to her senior year. Her friends and family have made each year memorial. Still, there is something about senior year, and knowing that it is their last year before university has her excited and anxious. 

Harry repeatedly told her how he wanted it to be their best year yet and promised to do just that. She has no doubt in her mind he will accomplish that in whatever way. He's managed to do so year after year. 

Harry made sure to pick her up each morning, never wanting her to worry about walking alone to school or arriving late. He made sure he knocked on her door every morning.

Depending on the time he showed up, he was ushered in for a homemade breakfast, or sometimes he said a quick hello before grabbing her hand and rushing out the door because they were running behind schedule, and Harry knew he could not make her arrive late. 

One thing that was always constant was how he carried her bag to his car and opened her door. He made sure she was settled before reaching down for his morning kiss. Sometimes, he went as far as putting on her seatbelt, just wanting to be close to her. 

Today was Monday, and he usually comes in, but today he selfishly told her to grab him a slice of toast because he was in a hurry. She didn't question him and sent her apologies. Her mom kissed her cheek and told her not to worry about it. A true angel, her mother was.  

Harry slipped her bag over his shoulder before ushering her in. She felt a little flustered with his urgency but let him be. He stole a quick kiss before going to the driver's seat. 

"What's got you in a rush today?" She asks, genuinely worried. 

He smirks, looking over at her. He seems calm, not that they've driven away from her house. "Thought we could use the extra time for some kisses. You deprived me this Sunday." He pouts at her, waiting for the light to turn green. 

"H, you know I have dinner with my grandparents one Sunday a month." She chastises him.

"I know, darling, doesn't mean I like it." He tells her. "Had to suffer a Sunday alone." 

"Well, at least I know how I can make it up to you." She teases. 

Arriving at school, Harry parks toward the back under a shady tree, one far away from everyone. 

"Want to sit on my lap, baby?" He asks, spreading his thighs, and as much as she wants to, she shouldn't knowing very well what he can convince her to do when in his lap. 

"Later, H." She promises. 

"I'm holding you to that, angel." He unclips her seatbelt, quickly placing his lips on hers. 

She feels how smooth his lips are and knows he stole her cherry lip balm again. "Harry, that's the third lip balm you've taken in two weeks." She pulls away, rubbing her thumb over his bottom lip that he juts out. He gives her thumb a soft kiss. 

"Swear I was going to put it back this time." He moves closer, placing a kiss on her neck, slowly trailing down, pushing his varsity jacket down her shoulder, exposing more of her neck. Her black corduroy pants and white acrylic sweater, and her favorite worn-out Mary Jane's mother have been begging her to change out. She likes to think it adds an extra flair to her outfit. "You drive me crazy when you wear my jacket," He whispers in her ear.

"Does that mean you're always going crazy?" She whispers back, knowing he mostly wears the jacket during game days. 

"Always make me lose my mind." 

After a fun half-hour of making out, Y/N pushes him back, knowing she has matching bruised lips. She loves that everyone can see what she did to him. She also may have sucked a little too hard on the skin right below his collar, the love bite just barely visible. She pulls down the sun visor, looking in the mirror to straighten out her hair, that Harry just loves digging his fingers into. 

"Baby, what did you do?" Harry says, looking at the fresh mark just by his collar bone. 

She smirks, knowing very well that Harry loves when she marks him. Not doing it very often in fear of getting caught by their parents. 

"Got to remind those girls that stare at you who you belong to." She reapplies her lip balm before layering the new lip gloss her mom got for her the other day. 

"You know I've only got eyes for you, love." He says, caressing her cheek softly. 

His gentle tone of voice always makes her soft, but it also might be that his accent seems to stand out even more. 

"I know, H." She leans in to give him one more kiss but pulls back quick enough to not let him deepen it. 

"Sneaky, baby." He clicks his tongue at her, rushing out and rounding the car to open her door, offering her his hand. 

She gladly accepts it, placing a kiss on both cheeks before landing on his lips. 

"I love you, Styles." She whispers against his lips, eyes closed as she tries to catch her breath. 

"And I love you, my darling angel." He softly nuzzles her nose, causing her to let out a small giggle. 

"Let's get you to class." He says, throwing his arm over her shoulder pulling her in close. 

Harry is smiling wide; she takes notice as she looks up. He looks extra giddy. 

Too giddy, and it has nothing to do with their steamy make-out. 

She narrows her eyes at him, "what's got you extra smiley?" 

"Nothing, happy all the time."

"Nuh, uh. Styles. I know you. Fess up!" She stops walking, wanting him to answer her.

"It's because my girl marked me up today for all to see. Makes me feel special." He answers smoothly. 

Y/N looks at him in suspicion, not buying a single word he's saying, "I'm onto you, Styles."

Harry lets out a deep breath before stepping close to her. "Let me surprise you, darling." 

She instantly relaxes. "Okay, only because you know I like surprises."

"Thank you." He rests his forehead against her, happy to be in her space, forgetting all around him until he hears a shout of his name. 

Moment over, it seems.

"Let's get you to English Literature," Harry murmurs, intertwining his hand with hers making sure she's close by as Sarah greets her.

_____

It's lunchtime when they walk hand in hand to the lunch tables where Mitch and Sarah sit, stalling their conversion to greet them. Before she can take a seat next to Sarah, Harry pulls her in his lap. He leans in close to her ear and whispers that he'll give her his chocolate chip cookies Anne had baked. She silently agrees, grabbing the bag Harry was offering her. What he didn't disclose is that his mum had sent them specifically for her. They have three empty seats, but she can see Zac and Sydney approaching, carrying food trays. Meaning, neither had lunch prepared for the day. 

Y/N leans back against Harry getting comfortable, knowing that he wouldn't be letting her go any time soon. The chatter begins with how their weekend went and what this week's activities are. She knows she doesn't have much to do this week; her club meetings don't meet until next week. Harry has football practice all week, meaning she either visits the library or finds a ride home. She doesn't mind staying and watching his training, but Harry hates knowing she sits there alone for so long. He rather have her be home warm and cozy than on the cold bleachers.

Harry asks for her attention by placing a kiss on her neck, his tell sign that he's feeling left out. 

"Yes, H," She whispers for only him to hear. 

"Need your attention. Don't like sharing." 

"You're extra needy this Monday, dove." Y/N has his hands in her lap as she begins to trace circles on his palm; it's something that soothes him instantly. 

"I just want to know our plans this weekend." He kisses her cheek, nuzzling his face in her neck. "Rather you get parent permission early on than last-minute giving them a chance to say no." 

Harry's right; there are occasions where her parents have said no, and Y/N finds herself sneaking out from her window that conveniently has an old tree that makes it all the easier. 

Her parents trust them together, but if they really knew what happened behind locked doors, they would think otherwise.

"Do you want to go kiss a little?" He wants her to say yes. 

"At your car or in the abandoned hallway?" 

"What's quieter?" 

"The hallway, and it's closer." 

Harry nods, gently grabbing her waist and helping her stand. "We'll see you later," Harry says, interrupting their conversations. 

"Oh, Styles, you've corrupted her." Zac teases very well, grasping what they were about to go do.

"Think she's corrupted me. Who knew angels could be so dangerous?" Harry teases in front of their friends. 

Y/N feels her face warm, bidding them all a quiet goodbye. Harry, having rendered her a bit speechless. She swears she never knows what is going to come out of his mouth. 

Harry all but drags her to the hallway. He gently pushes her back against the wall next to an older poster for the school play. Y/n glances down at his lips before looking into his eyes.

"Did you really bring me here to kiss, or are you spilling the surprise?" Her eyes are big and filled with hope. 

"Sorry, baby. Really did want some kisses from you." He pulls her closer wanting no space in between them. "Really missed you. Can't believe we only have one class together." 

"It's like they know you wouldn't pay attention to me in a class with you." She teases.

"Kissy." He pouts his lips, feeling like they've talked enough. 

Who is she to deny him when he asks so sweetly. 

Y/N always felt like time stopped when she kissed Harry. She felt her heart pounding in her chest as her knees grew weak, and as if Harry knew, he wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping her up. Harry pulls away slowly, a smile growing on his face. He would never tire of kissing her. 

Harry leans in and nuzzles his head in the crook of her necks, slowly beginning to place kiss after kiss before he finds his favorite spot and begins to suck lightly, pulling a surprised moan from her. 

She pushes him back. "No love bites that high. It will keep us locked up in the house all weekend supervised. 

Harry tenses at the thought, knowing fully well her parents would do that, having done it before when they first started dating, and he thought more with the thing in his pants than his brain. "I guess I'll just have to bruise these pretty lips."

Never one to tell him no, a small nod is enough to make Harry lean in and take her breath away. He'd kiss her forever if he could, but the last fifteen minutes of lunch break would have to do for now. 

_____

Monday's always drag on; she goes home, does homework, reads a book, and waits for dinner to be ready. Most days, she joins her mother in cooking; both like conversing about their days. More than ever, they have lots to talk about, from holiday plans to the universities she is applying for. She has saved up allowance allowing her to use it for more universities than the average three. If it was up to her, she'd send one to all the universities because that is how confident she is not only about her grades but how she comes off as a student on paper. 

Dumping most of her books in her locker, she keeps Calculus in her bag, knowing the sooner that homework gets done, the less stress she'll have. Just as she shuts her locker, she hears footsteps approaching her. 

"Is my girl ready to go?" 

"She is." 

Harry swings his arm over her shoulder, and they begin to walk out the school doors that are kept wide open. There are groups of students lingering talking to another, and in the distance can hear cars driving away eager to get away. 

Y/N smiles at a girl who sends her a wave, recognizing her from her English course. Harry walks them under a tree, a reasonable distance away from everyone because, as she has come to know, he likes kissing her in private. 

"Our first game is in two weeks." Harry reminds her.

"Yes, exciting." 

"Will you be there, or is there a test to study for?" He teases. 

She frowns and takes him by the lapels of his varsity jacket that she gave back to him at the end of lunch because she claimed it was losing his smell. 

"Don't start, Harry. You know I've never missed a game, and I won't start now." 

"Was only teasing, love." 

"Didn't like it." 

"Sorry, love. Forgive me? He pouts, wanting her to smile at him instead of frown. 

"You know my price." Y/N shrugs. 

He sighs, nodding his head three times before moving to get on his knees, toying with unbuttoning her pants. 

She gasps and jumps away. "Harry!"

Harry can't help but smirk, "Isn't that always the price."

"I just wanted a kiss; no need to make a scene." He shrugs. "Now, don't you have a practice to get to?"

"Ugh, I do." Harry groans, dreading practice knowing the coach likes to run them twice as much for not working out on the weekends. 

"Give me a kiss, please. Then you'll come by later, right?"

"That is correct." He leans in, giving her three consecutive pecks on her lips. 

"Who's taking you home again?" He asks, wanting to make sure she's safe. 

"Sarah and Mitch." 

"Right, good. Well, off I go, poppet." 

"Bye." 

Harry turns and heads toward the field, where he can see the freshman already setting up drills and getting the water jug out to the bench. He's only taken a few steps when his angel's voice stops him. 

"Dove," 

Harry can feel his cheeks turn bright red at the term of endearment. He turns and takes two steps back to her. "Yes, lovie." 

"Will you give me one more kiss?" Her voice soft and innocent but the gleam in her eye is anything but that. 

Harry takes the last step towards her and holds her face with both hands reaching down and kissing her passionately. He pulls away after what feels like a lifetime, slowly as he tries to steady his breathing. 

"I love you," she whispers.

He presses a final kiss to her forehead. "And I love you." Harry turns and begins to jog away, recognizing he's got a limited time to get dressed and out on the field to warm up. He's a few feet away but turns his head to see her watching him still. "Tell your mom I'll be joining you for dinner." 

She nods, letting him know she heard him before he turns a corner and out of her eyesight. Only then does she go in search of her waiting friends who will bring her home. 

______

After Y/N informed her mother that Harry was going to join them for dinner, she got up to cook, wanting everything to be ready for when her father and Harry arrived, seeing it would be around the same time.

Y/N made herself scarce as her mother was in no mood to converse. Instead, she wanted to cook, and maybe if she planned her time accordingly, she would do dessert. 

Dinner time came around quickly, meaning she was lost in homework for a good few hours. She walked downstairs wanting to help her mom set the table when the front door swung open. 

"Hello, father!" Y/N bounced over to him, giving him a big hug and a peck on his cheek, one that he happily returned.

"Hi, my sweet girl." 

"Mom cooked a delicious dinner. We're just waiting on Harry." Y/N told him, knowing he's hungry from a long day at work.

"Won't have to wait long; Harry was just parking when I was on the steps." 

Y/N's eyes lit up at hearing that he arrived. Her father chuckled, "I'll go say hello to my wife, dinner in ten, okay." 

Y/N walks out to see Harry coming up the stairs in a cozy blue emblem sweater with denim Levi jeans and paired with his old white Chuck All-Stars. She smiled because he went home to shower, not wanting to wear his clothes from earlier or come over smelling like sweat, not that she minded. 

"You know we don't mind the sweat, H," She tells him as he's climbing up the last few steps. 

He shrugs. "I know, but I am a guest in your home and would never dare disrespect your parents and you, of course." 

Y/N grins. "Four years dating, and you continue to prove to be the most perfect boyfriend." 

Harry looks away, feeling bashful. "I wouldn't go that far." 

"I would, dove." Y/N closes the gap between them. "Now, I say you kiss me before mom calls us in for dinner." 

"It would be my greatest pleasure." 

____

Dinner was a success, conversation always flowing well. Y/N likes to sit back and listen to her parents talk with Harry as if they hadn't seen him in forever when he is more than likely to be here every other day. Her father is a big fan of football; he too was once a player. No, he wasn't quarterback; he was right-wing and helped his team make it to state championships. 

The high school team has won three state championships since Harry's first year as a freshman. They counted on making it the fourth year; no doubt in anybody's mind it would happen. Y/N picked up on her father's excitement going on and on about the first game and how it was the most important one now that scouts would be coming out more and more. Without a second thought, she reached over and placed her hand on his thigh, lightly squeezing, reassuring Harry she was there for him. He slowly turned the hand on his thigh palm up and intertwined them together. 

"Thank you so much for dinner, Lorelai. Luke, thank you for the great conversation. I can't wait to see you both at the game."

"We wouldn't dare miss it, Harry," Lorelai tells him, a wide grin on her face as she picks up the dishes. 

"Now go on; I'll help your mother with the dishes tonight." Luke gestures to them to get up and get their privacy. Y/N thanks him and takes Harry's hand, leading the way up the stairs. 

Now they are lying on her bed, it's got enough space for them to be spread out, but she prefers to lay across Harry, her head on his chest as he rests his head on her pillows. 

Harry had his hand in her hair, always calming for her and for him. Allows them to sit in comfortable silence, basking in the joy of being together. 

Many people ask them if they ever get sick of seeing each other every day and never giving each other space after dating for so long. That isn't entirely true because when they aren't at their respective extracurricular activities, they are found together. Harry's response is always, "she's my favorite person." Y/N just shrugs and smiles, "he's my best friend." 

Believe it or not, they spent around in her room listening to music or in his house watching movies from their grand VHS collection. Most thought they spent it making it out, not that they don't do that because they are just as in love as when they got together four years ago. When they walked into any room, her parents were sure they would be kissing, which is why the open door policy exists. Well, half-open is the agreement now. 

Harry looks around her room, his eyes settling on the polaroid photo on her bedside table, one of them smiling at each other, lost in their own worlds. It's dated 06-18-1989<i<, it was from one of their many summer days spent together. He decided now was as good as time to bring up what he had been hiding. 

"You know how we were making plans for the weekend, sweetheart."

"Yes, you didn't let us decide on anything." 

"Well, what if I did?"

She sits up and moves to sit in front of him. "Okay, I'm all ears. 

"You up for a drive?"

"Always, so drive me to the moon, please." 

Harry laughs. "Serious for a sec, baby."

"Sorry, yes, go on then." She interrupts him once more. "How far is the drive? You're not always the best driver."

"Ouch" Harry has his hand over his heart, feigning as if her words had pierced him. "Guess I won't tell you."

"That's fine." 

"Yeah. Is it?" 

"Yup." 

"Why's that?" He's confused; she's usually begging to know by now. 

"Simple, because I just won't give you any kisses."

"That's cruel."

"Oh well. I don't play fair." 

"Think you can resist me, sweetheart?" 

"Oh, I know I can." 

Harry shakes his head, response ready, but she stops him. "Remember who asked who out five different times."

"That's because you were playing hard to get. Claiming you just wanted to be friends for a little longer." 

"That was tru-" It's his turn to stop her.

 "Ah, yes, I know. I was getting impatient. Don't know if you know this or not, darling, but I had to scare off a lot of boys. 

"Trust me, H. I knew" 

"You did?" 

"Yes, I think it was because everyone knew sooner or later I was going to put you out of your misery."

"Yeah, by saying yes." 

"Oh no, I was going to say no."

"What changed?" Clearly, something had, and he just had to know. 

"You decided to show up at school wearing your Sunday best and brought me sunflowers. Told me they reminded you how much light I brought into your life. There I decided yes, he'll make a fine boyfriend."

Harry's smile is big, dimples on display just for her. Always for her. "You tease too much."

"But you love it."

"I do." He leans in and smiles as she lets him lead the kiss. It's slow and full of love. A love that only continues to grow each moment they are together. "I really do."

Y/N leans in, wanting to give him more kisses, wanting to be connected to him, wanting him to always feel her love. She's not sure how much time has passed when Harry pulls away. 

"You do realize we got sidetracked." 

"Yes, worth it if you ask me." She looks pleased. "Now you have to tell me, I gave you kisses."

Harry runs his thumb over her bottom lip, asking for another. She puckers her lips leaning forward, and connects their lips in a short soft kiss.

"Friday night, the Forum."

Y/N's eyes go wide; she was not expecting to hear that.

"No."

"Yes."

She sits there taking it in.

"Say it, baby." Harry likes that he managed to surprise her. 

"You got us tickets for Elton John." She whispers out, her eyes now locked with his needing him to confirm it.

"Yes, I did." 

"A sold-out show."

"Think it's going to be a fun night."

"How?" Although Y/N has an idea.

"Well, I called in on a favor with our dear friend Sarah and the radio station she's interning at." 

"I love her." She breathes out.

"Hey," Harry knocks her out of her gaze. "And me." 

"Of course, I love you." She moves forward, seating herself in his lap. "I love you. I can't believe you did this for me." 

"Yes, can't let you go off to uni without experiencing a concert." 

"You are perfect, Styles."

"Perfect for you."

There's so much love in between them; if anyone walked into the room, they'd be able to feel it. 

"Wait." Her hands now resting on his chest, a frown taking over her face. "How are we going to convince my parents." 

"Already done. Told them the plan and the itinerary, and your parents have agreed." 

"Perfect, I'm telling." 

"Is this why we're walking to school tomorrow?" She remembers him telling her he won't have his car. 

"Yes, taking it to the mechanic. I just want to make sure all is okay." 

"Marry me?" 

Harry can feel his cheeks warming up; she always makes him blush. He takes hold of her left hand and brings it up to his lips, leaving a gentle kiss on her ring finger. 

"All in good time, my love."

_____

The week had dragged on, but it was finally Friday. She had been excited all week, and everyone could tell. Told her how she was jumpier, a lot more smiley, and twice as affectionate with Harry. She was happy.

She's at home getting ready; they would be leaving soon. Seeing as it was still a bit of a drive and no doubt would get stuck in traffic, seeing as they aren't the only ones attending the show. 

Y/N had gone over outfit after outfit until she finally decided on what she is wearing now. She's wearing a deep red power shoulder tucked into her favorite high-waist denim that makes her waist and butt look extra good. 

As she walks down the stairs, she hears the door and knows Harry is here to take her away. No matter what, he always stepped up to the door to pick her up; it still made the butterflies in her stomach go crazy. 

Her father is at the door speaking with Harry going over her extended rules and what numbers to call for an emergency. 

"Well, aren't you a dream," Harry looks her up and down; she does a slow spin for him on the heel of her black boots to give him the full look. "I'm a lucky man." 

"Glad you know it, H." 

She grabs hold of his brown leather jacket and runs her finger down it, it's an old one, but he takes such good care of it; one would think he just got it today. 

"Think you just took my breath away, H." She swears there are hearts in her eyes as she takes him in.

"That's exactly what I was going for." 

Harry and Y/N bid her parents goodbye; they wish them a safe journey. Her mother was excited to send her off; her father was a bit more worried but trusted Harry to keep her safe. 

The drive to the arena is filled with conversation over the upcoming year, Harry's final football season, and her volunteering hours how she was hoping to be accepted into the NICU's internship at their hospital. Also, lots of singing on the radio as well as Harry's CDs. From ABBA to Shania Twain, he had, but they settled on Elton John for the ride. 

In what feels like no time, they had arrived. Y/N is amazed at how big it is; she doesn't know much about the place just from what Sarah told her that it was large and no matter where she sat, she was going to have the best time of her life. Already having Harry at her side, she had no doubt about it. She can't stop smiling, and neither can Harry.

Harry grabs her hand as they both stare at the arena, where hundreds of people are lining up to enter. 

"Ready, love." 

"Yes, gosh. I might throw up from the excitement." 

"Oh no, let's get you a pop. It'll help."

"That sounds nice." Y/N leans up and gives him a gentle kiss. "Thank you, H." 

"Angel, I am more than happy to do this for you." 

Hand in hand, they walked into the arena, ready to sing their hearts out together. 

_____

Two hours of singing and dancing her heart off, and yet it still wasn't enough to tire Y/N out. Harry was sure she'd be clinging to his arm as he pulled her out of the arena, but she had asked him to wait out the crowd, and they stood in the emptying arena, arms around each other. He could feel her heart beating against his chest, and it was still pumping hard. He kissed her lips one final time before swinging his arm over her shoulder and guiding them out to the chilly Los Angeles air. 

Y/N was all smiles, and she thinks it has to do with the man whose curls have fallen flat from all the sweating they did inside the arena. Being in a room packed around thousands of people will do that. She has never been in such a happy and united environment. 

It's a memory she's going to cherish forever. 

The drive home is full of retelling of their favorite parts of the night. Harry decided his was when Y/N turned to kiss him during "Your Song." He felt himself fall in love with her all over again. It's a feeling he never wants to end. 

Y/N's had to have been each outfit change. There were so many that she lost track, but she loved how unique each outfit was. It's something she knew she could never pull off, but she admired the beauty of each one. It was over the top and full of colors; it kept her mesmerized. It reminded her of life and how filled with color it really is. Also, when Harry sang his heart out during "Tiny Dancer." How he knew every lyric and didn't miss a beat, if she's honest, she didn't bother looking at the stage for the entire song too entranced in Harry. 

The smile does not leave their face, not during the traffic of getting on the freeway, not when they stopped by McDonald's and got burgers and decided to share a coke, and not even when they saw the sign welcoming back into Aurora. 

Y/N's smile didn't drop until Harry parked his car right in front of her house. She sits back against the seat and turns her head to already find a bashful Harry smiling at her. 

"Come here." He whispers. 

She unbuckles and sits in his lap, it may have been a few hours, but she missed being this close to him. 

Y/N didn't wait for Harry to ask; she simply leaned in and connected his strawberry lips with hers. She loved how soft they always were, and she knew she'd keep letting him steal her lip balms if they did such an excellent job keeping them soft and tasting sweet; then again, that could be all Harry. She lets out a small moan when Harry swipes his tongue on her bottom lip, asking for entrance, and she happily grants it. 

She wishes she can stay here forever, in his arms, kissing his lips, never having to stop. 

"Baby," Harry breathes against her lips.

Y/N knows what he's going to say; she's not ready to say goodnight. Instead, she keeps kissing him. "Just a little longer." She mutters against his lips.

Harry can't bring himself to pull away again and nods, allowing her to take control. He has a tight grip on her thigh, he wishes to move it higher, but he knows if he does, she won't be going inside tonight. She moves her lips down his jaw pressing gentle kisses.

"You drive me crazy." 

"Feelings mutual, darling." 

Harry pulls her back up and kisses her plush mouth. She tastes sweet, something he never pinpoints; all he knows is that it's intoxicating. He presses one final kiss on her lips and pulls back. She's breathing heavy, a large grin on her face. He knows he looks just as dazed. 

"Think you got to get inside now." 

"Don't want to leave you." She grabs a fist of his jacket, pulling herself closer. 

"I'll be here tomorrow afternoon."

She pouts. "Why so late?"

"Because you're going to want to sleep in." He brushes a bit of her hair away, she leans into his touch; she loves how delicate each touch is. 

"What if you come early and then cuddle me? Mom won't turn you away."

"She might."

"Not after I walk in and tell her how amazing the night was." She cups his cheeks, rubbing her thumb affectionately on his smooth skin. "She's got a sweet spot for you."

"And you." He reminds her. 

"Well, of course. I'm her daughter." She laughs but knows she hasn't convinced him. "Please," she whispers. She flashes him her best puppy dog look, knowing he won't be able to resist.

"Fine. I'll be here at eight, darling." 

"Perfect." She gloats. 

"Let me walk you up." 

Harry helps her back into the passenger seat so they can both head out. He grabs her hand, pulling her in close, not wanting her far for the last moments he has her. 

"You want to know something, H." She whispers, keys in her hand.

"What is it, angel?"

"I want to travel the world with you."

"The world." He gasps. "It's a big place, baby. Where would we start?" 

"London got to see the place you grew up before moving here. Of, course we'll save up and just spend the year traveling wherever life takes us."

"That sounds perfect." 

She hums, deep in thought, picturing visiting all these places she's only dreamed of with him by her side. To see the Eiffel tower, walk the streets of Scotland, and swim in the Amalfi Coast waters. 

"Dove," He hums, playing with a loose string of her jeans. "Where would you like to go?"

"Anywhere you want. I'll make sure to take you wherever you want to go." 

"Take me to the stars, dovie."

"As you wish, my sweet angel." 

Harry brings his right hand up to her face and gently cups her cheek; she sighs, knowing precisely what he's going to do. She tilts her head up and feels his lips against her. It's the softest kiss of the night; it's gentle. It's her favorite kiss, the goodnight kiss, a promise to see her tomorrow. 

She breaks away the first time tonight, knowing if he kept going a moment longer, she wouldn't let him go. "Goodnight, H," She whispers as she begins to open the door. 

"Goodnight, love." 

Harry turns and walks to his car as he hears the door shut and hears her turn the lock. Once in his car, he takes a look up at her window, sends a final smile as he sees her waving him off.

He feels so much joy always being around her, but tonight it seems to have multiplied by a hundred. He knew tonight was perfect, but his favorite part wasn't even at the concert; it was standing outside her door as they spoke of their future together.

Happiness isn't always about the big moments but also about these small moments that make them feel invincible.

JUNE 1998

Y/N grabs a book from her bookshelf, not bother glancing at which one knowing if she stopped to read each title, she would be there all day. She heads to the yard, a picnic blanket tucked under her arm, so she can lay on it and soak in a bit of the sun. 

Her mother is trimming the leaves of the roses, wanting the flower to pop out more. Her father usually helps her, but he's finishing up last-minute work before coming out to join them. He has a good view of them from his office window. When she was young, he told her he chose this room because it's where her mom spends all her time, and he likes having his eye on her as she joins the beauty of her flowers. Y/N's known love all her life, and she's happy her parents have each other, but she can't help but feel like she let that one-of-a-kind love go years ago and fears she'll never find it again.

As she settles down on her blanket, she decides to rid herself of all thoughts and instead get lost in the words of Stephen King. She picked up a psychological horror. She remembers her father mentioning it was a good read and that she'd enjoyed it. Two pages in, and she knows she's hooked; it looks like she will be laying out here all day. 

At least that's what she thought when her mother interrupted her. 

"When are you meeting everyone?" 

Y/N puts the book down on her chest and looks over at her mom, who's still got her eyes on her roses. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"When are you meeting everyone?" Her mother repeats herself.

"Tomorrow."

"Time, darling?" 

"At one."

She hums in response. "I leave you in charge, and please be watchful over my roses." 

"Of course, I would never think of damaging your roses. Well, my roses, really." Y/N corrects. 

"Just because they were planted in your honor does not mean they are yours. You've cared for them for such little time."

"Excuse me, mother. I went off to university, but once I'm done and ready to settle down, I will be doing all the caring."

"Yes, because you will have time as a doctor." Her mother responds sarcastically. 

"I will be able to." 

Her mother decided to move on, knowing how stubborn Y/N can be. "Your father and I have lunch and dinner plans out of town, so you'll have the house to yourself for most of the day and night."

"You're treating me like I'm sixteen again, and it's my first time having friends over." 

Her mom laughs, and Y/N can't help but join. "You're forever, my little girl."

"Cheesy." Y/N teases.

Y/N leans back and gets comfortable, all thoughts of tomorrow pushed away and instead gets lost in the town of Bridgton, Maine. 

_____

It's time; everyone is making their way over. She can feel her palms begin to sweat, thankful there's a nice breeze outside to keep her cool. Y/N and her mom cooked pasta with grilled chicken and strawberry lemonade wanting to be ready for after the digging. Y/N would feel bad making them dig a hole, open a box, then head on out. These people are her friends, and she wishes to spend time with them, and what better than with food.

She's got ten minutes before everyone is due to arrive when she hears a car pull up and turn off right in front of her house. Y/N knows of only one person who shows up early.

Harry. 

Y/N thought he would be the last to arrive, but she's guessing old habits die hard. She takes a deep breath before opening the front door and walking out.

Harry would be lying if he wasn't nervous. He's about to see Y/N for the first time after years. He's seen her in photos; he knows she only continued to become more beautiful as the years passed. It's not the same as, no, because he knows what's separating them is a walk up to the door. 

He feels precisely as he did the moment he asked her out and, if he's truthful, how she made him feel their entire relationship. Harry's 26, but his heart feels 18, and at that age, he was deeply in love with the woman inside that house. He loves her just the same.

Harry takes a long deep breath before slowly letting it out. He could do this; he got out of his car and made his way up the path, where she was already standing waiting for him. It felt like no time had passed as if he was coming over to take her on a date--except they weren't even close enough to say they were friends. 

"Harry," She breathes out as he reaches the first step. 

"Hi" He sends her a small smile. "You look great." 

Y/N feels her cheek flush, and knows he can notice now that he's right in front of her. She takes in her outfit; it's simple, just a cropped red long-sleeved tee and black pants, with an old pair of black sneakers. 

"Thank you, Harry. As do you." And he really does. He's wearing loose green denim joggers with a matching jacket. He has left it open, showing a brown button-up, a silver cross necklace peeking out from the space he left unbuttoned. "Always on time still."

"Better early than late." 

She nods, not sure if she should continue the conversation or not. Are they going to stand out here in silence? It was never this hard; she hates this. Y/N rather keep talking than let themselves stand there in silence for another eight minutes. 

She clears her throat. "How'd med school go? Have you decided on a residency yet? Anne told me you were weighing your options." 

Harry doesn't try to hide his shock. "You spoke to my mum?" He asks in disbelief. 

Y/N grins as much as his English accent is fading; it always comes back when saying 'mum,' or well, when he's nervous. 

She nods. "I visit her when I visit my family. Recently passed when I came to see my mother who was feeling down and lonely as she put it even though she has dad to keep her company."

Harry smiles, knowing what weekend she was talking about because he had come the week after, and Lorelai had told him she was no longer as lonely. He thought it might have been because of his company, but it was because her daughter was home for a weekend.

When he's about to tell her where he decided, she waits patiently, staring up at him, a shy smile on her face but stops when Sydney comes and tackles Y/N in a hug. 

"Of course, Styles got first dibs on you." Sydney fakes her exasperation. 

"He knows how to be punctual." Y/N teases. "Looks like you bring the others as always." She signals seeing two more cars park; they park in the empty driveway.

"Just like old times," Zac screams out two bottles of wines in his hands. Mitch and Sarah walk up behind him, agreeing. 

Y/N looks around, and it's almost like old times. Just one small difference that makes her heartache. 

Everyone greets each other, sharing long hugs, and it's not long after that she invites everyone in and into the backyard. 

"Mom says if we mess up her roses, we are dead meat," Y/N informs them all as they all stand in a semi-circle under the spot they buried their time capsule. 

Mitch steps and pats Harry on the back. "If anything does happen, just say it was Harold. Lorelai has a soft spot for him." 

Sarah approaches water in her hand. "Y/N is her golden child who does no wrong, easy to forgive."

Y/N laughs. "Enough. No roses will be damaged. Are we clear?" 

She gets a chorus of "yes."

"Great, there are clear instructions that only Zac and Harry are allowed to shovel. Sorry, Mitch, mom said we've got to take care of your musical hands."

Mitch nods in appreciation. 

"What about the doctor? No care for him." Harry mutters a small smile on his face.

"Quiet Styles, you're a favorite still," Zac tells him, pushing a shovel into his chest. 

Y/N's happy watching the banter; it's like she's sixteen again, and they are trying to see who could dig their side of the hole faster. 

SEPTEMBER 1988 - TIME CAPSULE 

"High school friendships aren't known to last," Zac speaks out randomly, breaking everyone out of their conversations.

Harry sighs, "You're a downer." 

"I'm a realist." 

Y/N takes this in; she hasn't thought years down the line. She just assumed they would always be in her life. She can't see herself without them.

"What if we aren't friends ten years down the road?" Y/N voices.

Harry instantly picks up the concern in her voice. "I promise I won't let that happen, lovie." He assures her. 

"H, I know." 

"It's not uncommon for others to drift, especially when everyone has a different path after high school." Sydney comments. "My sister went through it."

"Let's write a letter, and we can bury it, open it ten years, but we have to do it together," Sarah suggests.

"Not a bad idea." Everyone nods in agreement.

"Let's do a letter and something important to us." Y/N proposes already having an idea of what to put.

"It's settled. We're burying a time capsule." Harry states. 

"One problem." 

"What now, Zac?" Sarah groans. 

"Where do we bury it?"

Slowly everyone turns their gaze on to Y/N. 

"Your house," Sydney tells her. 

"You all agree?" Y/n is surprised. 

"Your mom will never leave her house. It's gorgeous."

"Also," Zac chimes in, "You love it and tell us how it's going to be yours one day."

Y/N sighs and nods. "I will ask and will let you know."

_____

It took a lot to convince her mother, but her father liked the idea and supported her. Two against one, Y/N knew her mom was in a losing fight. After lots of hugs and kisses and promises of doing the dishes for two weeks straight, she got permission. 

They had decided on a Saturday, wanting to do it early in the morning, unsure how long they would take digging the hole. Her mom designated an area for them to open. 

Her mom allowed her to have the house to themselves, trusting them not to do anything but dig a hole. Y/N had everyone promise they would be on their best behavior. 

Harry and Zac volunteered to dig, and no one argued. It took over an hour for them to get a decent-sized hole. It looked tiring, but Y/N enjoyed watching Harry's muscle flex as he threw out dirt. Finally, being satisfied with the hole size, mainly Sydney, made them go longer; it was time to place their items inside. 

Y/N rewrote her letter a few times, never knowing the right thing to say. It wasn't until she was lying on the floor of her room with Harry's head in her lap did she know what she wanted to tell her future self. 

Mitch went first, putting in his first-ever guitar pic, Sarah her Walkman, Harry followed with a copy of Romeo and Juliet, Y/N a chained rose ring, she put it in but not before giving it a small kiss knowing she'd miss it. Zac decided on his baseball mitt, and Sydney threw in a signed polaroid of herself, knowing it'd be worth a lot more once she became famous for her art.

Harry locked it shut with the final object in the box and lowered it down with Mitch's help. It fit well, and they sat around as it began to fill with dirt. 

"Ten years, we'll come back and open it up." 

"Yeah, but like summertime. I'm sure we'll have more time during the summer than other months." Zac might be right for once. 

"June 1998," Sarah suggests. 

Everyone thinks about it for a second, it feels so far away, a lifetime, really, but yes, they all agree. 

Ten years' time, they will all be digging it up and will relive these moments. 

JUNE 1998 

Harry removes his jacket half an hour in, and there is nothing to complain about. He tosses it close to her side, and Y/N knows if things were different, he would have gently thrown it at her, and without a second thought, she would have put it on. She missed the times when he loved her. Because as much as she can't admit it out loud, she still loves him. 

Now she'll fake conversation with Sydney when her real focus is on Harry and how his muscles seem to grow every time he scoops some dirt out and adds to the pile. He's grown buff over the years, he was always tall and firm in high school due to football, but now he's more defined. The most significant change was in his face, more stern. Not as smiley; it might just be due to being around her. He must hate being in her presence after she broke his heart. 

Y/N lets herself get lost in thought when Zac cheers. She looks down, and peeking out in the corner is brown wood.

"We've hit gold." 

In the next five minutes, Zac and Harry dig as much of the sides as they can, and soon enough, they are lifting it out before settling it down with a big "thump." 

Y/N can't stop eyeing it; it's got dirt in every spot that meets her eye, but she knows what's waiting for her inside of that box, and she can't wait to have it with her once more. 

"Who's going to do the honors?" Mitch asks the bolt cutters in his hand, ready to hand them over.

Everyone looks around at each other; no one says a thing until Harry steps forward and reaches to take them from his hand. Mitch hands them to Harry, no question asked. Harry heads straight to Y/N; he stretches his arm out, waiting for her to accept the cutters.

"Think it's only fair Y/N does the honors, seeing as we made her do a lot of groveling to Lorelai ten or so years ago just for us to bury this; not that she let any of us know." Harry smiles, urging her to take it. Y/N fingers brush his rather quickly, but in that small second, she felt her heart rate pick up and fears he might hear it, although that is almost impossible. 

"Thank you." He nods, urging her forward. 

"Take your time, doll." Zac says sarcastically." 

Y/N is too busy getting down on her knees in front to see the glare Harry sent Zac's way. Everyone else catches the look; believe it or not, they all hope this is the moment that brings these two once lovers back again. 

"Here goes nothing." 

Y/N places the bolt cutters between the lock and counts down to three; it breaks right off the first try.

"You've got some strength!" Sydney exclaims; she was expecting it to take much longer.

Y/N lets the lock fall before reaching up and pulling the single latch. She scans everyone circling around her before opening the crate hating the creaking sound it releases. 

There on top are their most prized items from when they were sixteen. 

Sydney reaches in first, pulling out a polaroid and pink envelope. She flips it over and lets out the biggest laugh. Sydney turns the photo around, letting everyone see her in the photo wearing her then boyfriend's varsity jacket. It has her signature on the page. "I swore I was going to be famous for my art and would sell this for thousands." 

"One day." Harry offers. 

Sydney shrugs. "My boyfriend will appreciate this the most if I'm honest."

"He's that crazy for you?" Sarah asks.

Sydney nods, a shy smile on her face. "Yeah, I'm fortunate." She laughs, letting the moment pass. "Enough, Zac, please, you're next."

Zac, for the first time the whole evening, has fallen silent, almost looks nervous to reach inside. He takes a deep breath to go to the corner of the box and pull out a beat-up baseball mitt. Y/N can see his eyes well up with tears. He chuckles, "I swore I was going to go pro, but that senior injury year changed everything. In a way, Zac felt free; he got to pursue a career in travel journalism. "Enough sap, I volunteer, Harry." 

Harry nods, moving forward, sitting next to Y/N thighs touching; she feels her breath hitch; she doesn't dare move. He reaches in for the only book it's resting on the bottom, a white envelope with a scribbled 'H' on top. He sets the envelope aside but keeps the book in hand.

Harry smiles at the book in hand, Romeo and Juliet. It was not his favorite by any means, but it held a special place in his heart because it was the first book Y/N read to him when they first started dating. He remembers telling her he hated how she ignored him for words on paper, so he proposed she read to him aloud, and that way, they could bond. Y/N was thrilled at the idea; the first book was Shakespeare because it was a reading assignment, and she wanted it done that weekend.

 Harry hated the ending; he remembers ranting to Y/N as she ran her fingers through his hair to calm him down. He didn't understand why Shakespeare made these two people who were star-crossed lovers fall in love in a week only to have them die. 

Safe to say, it took a while to let Y/N read another one of Shakespeare's works. 

Y/N's eyes were on the book, and she watched as Harry carefully opened it to the first page, moving it back so that only they could read what was written on the cover page. 

It read: I've loved you for six months. I'll love you for six more. And maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get to love you for life. Love, Y/N xxx

Y/N felt tears behind her eyes; she had to look away. She was so naïve at the age, but oh how she loved him, and she knew he loved her just the same. Y/N was so grateful to know she was loved, even if it was years ago.  

She doesn't want to go next; instead, Sarah reaches in to save her. Sarah pulls out her folded half of paper and her blue Walkman player. "Oh my goodness, this is going to have some golden tunes." 

Mitch chuckles, "You suffered without it. Think was the first time I ever heard you complain about something." 

Sarah sends him a playful glare. "Shut it! Why don't you go next, Mr. Sentimental."

Mitch is one to never say no to Sarah, so he shrugs and makes his way forward. Patting Harry on the shoulder causing Harry to shift closer to Y/N. Both Harry and Y/N don't say anything but don't bother to move away either. 

Sarah smiled as she watches Mitch pick up a guitar pick. It was the first one he received from his father. "Dad always said I had a guitar in hand." 

"Mitch, you've voiced your thoughts out loud." Harry jokes. 

"Funny Styles." That's the last of what Mitch says as he moves back to read his letter, and Sarah follows close behind. 

Y/N feels everyone staring, but really it's only just Harry. Everyone focused on their own letters but also waiting for a reaction. She slowly reaches in, first pulling out the pink envelope with her initial on the front; Harry wrote it for her, saying she needed a way to identify it years later. 

She sets it in her lap before reaching in and getting the item she's been thinking about all day. 

A silver rose ring. 

It was a gift from Harry; Y/N always spoke of roses and how much her mother loved them. Leading to Harry finding out she loved them just as much. He wore this ring for a long time; he found it in a store in London before they made the move here permanently. It's his last real piece of home, but Aurora had become home, and so had Y/N. It felt right to give to her. She cried, receiving it, and knew it wouldn't fit but told him not to get it resized. She surprised him by wearing it around her neck; she put it on a chain she had. There wasn't a day she wasn't seen without it. 

She holds it tightly in her hand as if Harry might rip it out of her hand, wanting it back, but it's hers, and it's special. Y/N never wants to forget her memories with Harry, no matter how much it hurts, thinking back on them. 

"I've missed it." She whispers. 

Y/N slips it over her head, letting it rest outside her shirt for all to see. She missed the look on Harry's face, but this might be the motivation he needs to speak with her. To talk about where they are now in life. 

Except Y/N stands up, brushing the dirt that was on her pants to head somewhere more private to read her letter she wrote to herself. She walks a few feet away and flips open the pink tab, pulls out a folded paper. Her eyes immediately go to the bottom of the page, wherein black ink, it says, "I love Harry (PS: he made you write that, but it doesn't make it any less true." 

Everything surrounded him; her love for him was just that large. She reads over her letter taking in the words of how her sixteen-year-old self said she was proud of her and that no matter what happens, it was all for a reason.

It's exactly what she needed to hear. 

Harry is watching Y/N stand there read her letter, and he feels the gaze of everyone else to go approach her. Years ago, he wouldn't have thought twice about it, he would have been at her side holding her hand or rubbing her back, but now he doesn't even know if they are even friends. Mitch nudges him, and he knows he should check on her, but she surprises everyone by turning around, a grin on her face. 

"Mom and I cooked lunch, so let's wash up and eat. All this sure has built up my appetite." 

"Don't have to tell me twice." Zac smiles, walking inside heading straight to the kitchen sink. 

The others begin to follow Zac inside when Y/N stops hearing her name being called. It's Harry standing by the hole, shovel in hand. 

"Should I cover it up?"

Y/N can't help the smile, Harry was always so eager to help, and she's glad his kind helping sport hasn't changed. "No, dad is going to cover it. Mom told him he needs to do more yard work. She called it bonding time." 

"Okay, if you're sure." 

"I am." 

"Let's head in then." 

As Harry is about to walk past her, she reaches her hand out, grabbing his bicep, surprising him. "Thank you." 

He nods his head. "Of course." 

Y/N sighs; there's so much left unsaid. Their breakup fresh on her mind seeing him walk away from her, bringing it all back. Oh, how she wishes things were different. 

She doesn't regret leaving for New York, but she does wonder if there was a way to have made their relationship work; would it have survived or crashed and burned. 

In a way, she's glad she never had to find out. 

Y/N puts her brave face on; she's surrounded by friends who love her and who she hasn't spoken to for longer than half an hour. She's going to soak in this time and enjoy it. 

There are other times to be sad.

MARCH 1990 - ACCEPTANCES

Y/N and Harry were both lost in thought as Harry drove them to their destination. There was a lot to think about

Harry was proud to get a full-ride football scholarship to UCLA and a partial for USC. They were close to home, and he got to play a sport he was good at. These universities were tough to get into, but he impressed the recruits. He didn't bother applying outside the state, knowing he couldn't be far from home. It felt wrong for him; he knew that wasn't the case for Y/N. 

Y/N always spoke about leaving the state. She had dreamed about it from a young age especially seeing her brother do it. Gabriel's stories only make her more excited for her future. She loved to travel, no matter the distance. 

Harry, of course, knew this; he just thought he could convince her to stay. 

Applying to schools was hard for Y/N; there were many universities she wanted to apply to, but she feared rejection, so she set a limit of six. Still, a high number; she just needed options. 

When acceptances came in, each application welcomed her. Two east coast universities offered full-ride scholarships, USC offered partial and others only half. She had the money for tuition, her parents saved for her, which she is forever thankful for but knowing she could move across the country like she always dreamed of was calling her name. 

The one thing that stopped her was Harry. 

Y/N had never known love until Harry, and she knows her leaving will jeopardize that. She also knows if she stays, she might not be happy, always stuck on the "what if?"

She was distraught as soon as she heard the news. Her mom saw her pace outside, then sit, pour herself tea then began the cycle again. Y/N dreamed of Columbia. It was her dream university, and to give that up, but also having to give up Harry, she couldn't pick; she didn't want to. 

Harry parks the car; he drove them to an abandoned cliffside that's full of wildflowers. Y/N didn't rush out of the vehicle as she once would have wanted to feel the cold breeze. Now, she stares ahead, letting the car fill with silence—neither one wanting to be the one to begin the conversation that would change everything.

"Is this the end?" Y/N asks her voice, betraying her, as she feels her throat tighten up.

Harry doesn't answer; he reaches for her hand and holds it tight. 

"It doesn't have to be. I don't want it to be." She's barely holding herself together. Y/N's staring at the side of his head, silently begging for him to meet her gaze. 

"Life isn't always as easy as the last four years have been for us," Harry tells her, finally meeting her eyes. 

"I love you. You know that, right." 

"I know." He whispers. 

Y/N shuts her eyes, repeats the words in her head she hasn't been able to voice out, knowing she's going to be breaking more than one heart right now. 

"I can't stay, Harry." Y/N blinks her tears away, but they come right back, seeing Harry holding back tears. "As much as I want to, as much as I can't let you go. I also can't stay." 

"Don't let me go then." He whispers. He reaches forward, cradling her cheek in his hand. It's the softest touch he's given her. It's as if he's trying to remember how she feels. 

"It's not fair." 

"I don't care." Y/N reaches forward to wipe the tear away that managed to escape. 

"But I do." 

"I don't care." He tries again, Harry can't let her go. She's his life, he's too young to know about forever, but he doesn't want to live a life without her. "I'll go with you."

Y/N lets her tears begin to fall at his words. "No." Her voice firm. "It's over if you leave."

Harry pulls back, hurt by her words but Y/N's just as upset. 

She lets go of her hold on him and hurries out of the car. Harry yells her name, begging her to come back, but she's too busy crying to listen to him. Soon enough, she's surrounded by trees, and there are two trails to follow, but she can't pick; it is faith mocking her in the smallest of ways. Instead, she settles for sitting right in the center on a patch of grass. 

Y/N sits hunched over, crying; that's how Harry finds her. He doesn't say a word. He sits next to her and pulls her into his lap. 

"I'm sorry. So sorry, darling." 

Harry begins to rock her back and forward, letting his tears all as he rests his chin on top of her head. Begins to whisper sweet nothings, just wanting her close. He hates that they are causing each other this hurt. 

Y/N's cries have stopped; she sniffles from time to time. The holds she has on Harry is iron tight as if he'd vanish if she let go for even a second."

"Summer." She whispers, breaking the silence. 

"What?" Harry is not sure what she can mean.

"We have Summer."

"Yeah, we do." 

"We have to let each other go at the end of Summer." Her tone is final.

"Y/N-"

Y/N stops him, "Harry, I'm not letting you give up your dreams for me, and I know you won't let me do the same."

"I can't say goodbye," He confesses. 

"Then we won't. We'll kiss goodnight and pretend like we'll see each other in the morning." 

"That's heartbreaking, love." He chuckles bitterly.

"I love you, Harry Styles." 

"And I love you, my angel." 

Harry is done crying, instead leans in and kisses her like he should have done earlier as soon as he had parked the car. The kiss is fast, not soft like all the kisses he's used to giving her, no he wants her to remember this kiss. He wants her to feel everything he isn't saying. 

I love you. You're mine. You're my best friend. I will love you forever. He wants her to feel it all. 

"Show me you love me." Y/N pulls back breathless, lips plush begging to be kissed again. Harry knows what she's asking, and he's not one to deny her. 

He stands up, confusing her, but he comes prepared. Harry walks for the blanket he dumped a few feet away from them, grabbing it and spreading it out. Y/N is quick to lay back on the soft blanket. It warms her instantly. She smiles, reaching her hand up as Harry leans over her, his bottom half straddling her waist, her hand intertwining in his soft curls. Y/N brings him down for a kiss needing his touch to be close. 

Harry and Y/N are wrapped in their own world, lost in their kiss; it's always been them against the world, but soon they are going to venture off separately. It's something that neither of them wants to wrap their head around, and they won't not until they have to. 

They will enjoy graduation together, hand in hand receiving diplomas. Y/N will deliver a beautiful valedictorian speech. The joint graduation party will be a joy and one they sneak away from to spend watching the moon reflect over the ocean. It's the one place they feel at peace, the sea being a favorite of both of theirs. The Summer will bring endless days out, travels up the coast of California even as far as making it to San Francisco for a trip. There is not a second where they don't spend time together, and their parents understand; it breaks their heart, but it's their future, and all they can do is support them. Their love will only grow this Summer which makes it more heartbreaking when they say goodbye in August.

But none of that matters because, for now, they have each other, and that is enough. 

Harry pulls back, leaning his forehead against hers, their breaths mixing together. 

"I love you." 

"I love you so much; it's not going away just because--" Harry stops, not being able to voice the words out loud. He can't say it, or he'll start crying. 

"I know, dove." She trails her finger up his chest until they right over his heart. Y/N can feel how fast it's beating; it beats for her. "Maybe a day will come where we can be together again, that's if you don't find someone else, which I understand if you do."

"It's not going to happen." 

"You don't know that," She mutters. 

"Hey, I love you. No one is going to love me like you do. I'd be a fool to love someone else." Y/N settles her chin on his chest. She's staring into his eyes, trying to find a hint of a lie, but there is none. There's only love and sadness in his green orbs. 

"I love you too."

Harry sighs; there's not much they can do to brighten the mood. "You know what we can do?"

"What?" 

"Make a summer bucket list. First on my list is to kiss the prettiest girl I know every day." She laughs, making Harry break out in a big grin. "Lucky for you, that happens to be you." He tells her, booping her nose with his index finger.

Y/N laughs; it's only March. She has the rest of Spring and all of Summer to love Harry. To love him with every bone and cell in her body because that last day will come sooner than she likes. 

_____

The end of Summer arrived, and she bid Harry goodnight with a kiss at the door like normal, like he was going to show up tomorrow bright and early for breakfast and kisses, but that wasn't the case. It was goodbye, even though neither of them could admit it. 

Y/N and Harry walked away from each other; they didn't say no contact, but it was like they both silently agreed on it because there was no letters or calls to each other, no visits to each other's homes, no visiting each other parents, at least not in the beginning

The love was there, but life goes on.

JUNE 1998

After a delicious meal and second servings, everyone sits back stuffed. Everyone enjoyed a lovely home-cooked meal with entertaining conversation. Y/N enjoyed watching it happen, not participating much in conversation. She never was that interesting, she felt, always let her friends carry the conversation. She could feel Harry glance at her from time to time, but Y/N still hasn't recovered, knowing that Harry's most prized possession at sixteen was a book she wrote a note in. 

Y/N wonders if he's regretting that now. 

"Have we overstayed our welcome?" Zac asks, taking Y/N's silence as something terrible.

She laughs, shaking her head. "You're fine. I like listening, fascinating conversations going on."

"Come on, share something with us." Zac urges her.

"Uhh… med school has been going well. Have all of the Summer off, might do some sightseeing before going home." 

"Yeah, driving home to Massachusetts instead of taking a plane like a normal person." Sydney winces at the thought, not at all wanting to think about the pit stops she had to make. 

"Maybe not the smartest idea, but I encountered zero troubles; my baby, Twila, runs smoothly." 

"Should get her checked out again before leaving." Harry comments.

Y/N nods. "Dad's been on my ass about that as well, but I've got no rush, especially since all I ever do here is walk around town." 

"Enough car talk, let's talk about the time Zac got his clothes stolen after gym class sophomore year." Sarah sets them off on a never-ending conversation of memories.

As soon as one story is finished, a new one is being shared. Y/N forgot most of these, but as her friends tell them, she feels each memory unlock and surfacing. The conversation goes on forever, with no end in sight because that's how friendship is; it's never-ending. Especially when all they did for four years was hanging out together, creating these memories they now are so fond of. 

It's around seven o'clock, the sun begins to set when everyone decides to head home. She walks them out, giving them hugs and promises of seeing each other again before everyone leaves town. Y/N notices Harry lingering by, but she doesn't say anything.

Y/N waves goodbye to Sarah and Mitch when Harry comes to stand by her. She waits for him to say goodbye, not going to rush him, which is why what he says next surprised her. 

"Do you want help cleaning up?" 

Harry looks shy, asking, and Y/N knows he's about to take it back, so she nods. "That'd be great." 

She walks back in, and Harry follows close behind, making sure to lock the door, just in case. "I'll rinse, and you put it in the dishwasher. Okay?" 

"Okay, yes." 

They begin to work in silence, the only sound of the running water. Y/N wonders if he's going to stay longer or if he's going to leave right after. 

God, she could really go for a glass of wine. 

As Y/N hands him the last plate, she dries her hand with the red dish towel before handing a white one over to Harry, who thanks her quietly. 

She leans back against the counter, debating asking him to stay for a drink or not. Harry catches her staring and smiles, unleashing the dimples. It seems he made the decision for her. 

"Do you want a glass of wine?" Y/N turns around, reaching up for a glass for herself, not wanting to face him just in case he rejects her. 

"Wine sounds great." 

Y/N grabs two stemmed wine glasses and opens the bottle of red wine rather quickly; she's surprised her hands aren't shaking because she's so nervous. She fills both glasses halfway before stepping forward to hand Harry his cup.

"Thank you." 

"No problem." 

Harry takes a sip, humming at the taste. Y/N isn't sure where Zac got the bottle. She's just happy it tastes good. 

"Do you want to sit outside, watch the sunset on the steps?" 

Harry agrees and steps out, holding the door open for her. She sits down, leaving room for Harry. He leaves a small space in between them. 

"I love sunsets, never the same." 

"Same as sunrises." 

"I'm not a morning person as I once was, a bit of a night owl." She shares.

"Oh really, why is that?" 

"I'm not sure." Y/N knows that's a lie; what she wanted to say is because she has no one to wake up to. No one to give morning kisses or morning cuddles. 

"You must still love mornings." 

"I do." He chuckles. "I do three-mile runs each morning." 

"Three!" She gasps. "I'd be tired the entire day; I prefer going on hikes or long walks." 

"Used to it already." 

"Pity, to your partner. Stealing cuddles from them." She mutters, taking a sip of her wine, hoping he didn't hear. 

Harry wants to respond, not sure if she was asking or stating. Oh, how he wishes he could know what she was thinking.

"Didn't know you were interested in medicine, Harry." 

"I wasn't, not until my injury." He rubs his shoulder as if he remembered the pain. "After finding out, I was done for; I just needed something entirely different. My physical therapist spoke about his journey to entering the field. He told me to enter something that captured my attention and something I would never get tired of learning about. It led me to psychiatry. My professors were great guidance." 

"John Hopkins, right?" 

"Yes, the very one." 

"Tough school." 

He laughs out loud, hand on his belly. "You're telling me, miss dean's list each semester. Graduating with highest honors from Harvard." 

"You know me, my head always stuck in a book." 

"Still don't take compliments." 

"Makes me feel weird. I love what I do; I can't wait to start and just learn it all. This sponge I call my brain is ready to absorb it all."

"I'm sure you're going to do amazing." 

"Thank you, Harry. That means a lot." She pats his knee before quickly retracting her hand back into her lap.

"Where is your residency?" Harry looks at her, a frown on his face. "Don't think I asked you." 

"Well, Harvard medical was a dream, and I wasn't ready to say goodbye, so I accepted Massachusetts General. I really love the environment they have in the hospital." She sets her wine glass down, turning her body to look at Harry. She misses the look of shock on his face. "Everyone is so kind--"

"Y/N," He tries, but she continues on.

"I went for a tour, and it was busy and crowded, but they were so kind with the children. When I entered the pediatrics ward, I just knew it's where I had to be."

"Y/N," 

"I already know who I'm going to be working under, and she's--" 

"Love," Harry tries his gaze on her face hoping to get a reaction.

That shuts Y/N right up; it has been a long time since she last heard that term of endearment. 

Her eyes are on Harry; he has her full attention. He can tell she's a bit stunned, but his news is life-changing. "I have my residency at Massachusetts General." 

"You what?" She was not expecting that news. Harry is in the same hospital as her. "Are you saying?" 

"We would have run into each other if we hadn't come home for the time capsule, yes." He answers for her. 

"Fate," she whispers.

Harry nods, eyes shining with tears. That one word was enough for Harry to know she might feel the same. 

He sees Y/N's eyes flicker to his lips, going back to his eyes, then leans in. He does the same, wanting to feel her close more than ever. 

"Y/N, you left the-" Harry and Y/N spring apart, the moment gone started by her mother. "Oh, hello, Harry."

Harry clears his throat, standing up to offer the woman who startled him a hug. "Hello Lorelai, wonderful to see you."

"How's your mother?"

"She's well. Left yesterday to visit my nephews for the weekend." 

"That's nice." 

The three now stand outside together, Y/N rocking back and forth on her heels, not able to standstill. 

"Truly wasn't expecting to see you," Lorelai tells him.

"We were catching up" Harry smiles at Y/N. "We were keeping each other company." 

"Very kind." 

"I should get going; it's late." Feeling as if he overstayed his welcome. 

Lorelai senses the tension a second too late as Harry is saying his goodbyes. "Well, please do stop by before you leave town." 

"Of course." 

"I'll walk you out." Y/N smiles at her mother as she leads Harry out through the side gate, personally wanting to avoid a run-in with her father.

Y/N, true to her word, walks him to his car; he is about to round his car, heading to the driver's seat but stops.

"Y/N?" His voice was shaky.

"Yes, Harry."

"Let's have dinner together." He rushes out in one go.

"Harry…" She pauses, "I--" 

He interrupts her. "Don't tell me you have a--" he trails off, not wanting to say the word.

"Course not." She replies quickly.

"But,"

Y/N takes a deep breath, taking a moment to get her thoughts together. "I won't do this unless this is it. This is the time I'm yours again. For good." 

"You've always been mine." He steps forward, hand reaching out to cup her cheek. She lets out a sigh, feeling a sense of peace take over her body. "Eight years and no one compared. No one ever will." 

"H." He can see the tears in her eyes. 

"I mean it. I've always been in love with you. I will always be in love with you. It will always be you."

Y/N closes the gap between them; they are the closest they have been in eight years. She searches his face for any sign of doubt but finds none. Only sees love in his beautiful emerald eyes.

"I love you." She confesses feeling a weight leave her shoulders as the words leave her mouth for the first time in years. "I never stopped. I will never stop." 

"Sweetest words I have ever heard. Words I want to hear forever." Harry's smile is one she had never seen before; it's wide, and she swears it reaches the sky. His eyes hold a shine they never have before. 

There's one last thing she needs for this moment to be perfect.

"Please kiss me."

"With pleasure." 

She's never dreamed of this moment in fear of it not happening, but it finally is, and Y/N swears she feels the stars aligned just for them. Harry's lips were getting closer, and she felt her heart skip a beat. She parted her lips and felt him washing over like a wave of warmth. She finally felt at home. Her whole body tingled, the feel of his frame leaning on jets as his arms wrapped around her tightly, afraid that she'd disappear. Y/N's fingers slowly moved up Harry's chest until they tangled with the back of his short curls. She tugged, needing more, feeling her legs buckle at the moan Harry let out. 

All she felt was love, and she wanted to feel it forever. Y/N let Harry pull away; he didn't go far, letting his forehead rest on hers. Their breaths mix together. There's a bashful smile on Y/N's face, but this moment feels too good to be true. 

Harry and Y/N stand there wrapped in each other's arms, lost in each other's gaze as if no one else existed and there was no risk of interruption. 

"I'll be here at noon tomorrow, going to take you out if you'll let me." 

"Yes, H. I accept." She kisses him softly two more times before unwrapping herself from him, putting a bit of distance between each other, or they very well would stand there all night kissing. 

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." She confirms 

Harry steals one last kiss, short and sweet, before getting in his car. He sends her a kiss that she pretends to catch and places it over her heart. 

She knows he is blushing even though she can't see it. 

As he drives away from her, all the hurt and pain of not having him washes away. Harry is hers, and she is his. 

All is right. 

Their paths finally crossed again, and this time there would be no final goodbye. 

_____

Harry showed up the day after as promised. Y/N was eagerly waiting, she had felt time go slow when they had been apart, but it's a monumental day because once again, after so many years, Harry and Y/N are finally reunited. 

She waited on the steps of her house like she used to when she was a teen waiting for him to pick her up and take her out on a date. It was bringing back the best memories. Harry parked right in front, and just as he was rounding his car to go meet her, she was in front of jumping in his car.

"Woah!" Harry was fast to react, only stumbling a little put holding her tight. "This is a nice welcome." He teases.

"Can you blame me? I missed you." She tells him, nuzzling her face in his neck. 

"Missed you too, love. Eight years, I've missed you." 

"Don't start, H. Don't want to cry. We're here now." 

"You're right." 

Y/N has Harry set her down; they stand there smiling at each other, taking each other in. 

"Up for a drive?" 

She nods. "Will you drive me to the moon?" 

"Anywhere you want, angel." 

Harry drives them to one place she hasn't visited because of the memory it holds. She's guessing it's because he wants to create new, better ones. 

"It's still beautiful here." She looks out through the window, not wanting to leave the safety of the car. She wants to stay close to Harry. 

Y/N sits in silence with Harry holding each other's hands, allowing each other to just enjoy this time together. The calmness of being loved and feeling loved. She knows there are lots to talk about, but she settles for the quietness for now. 

She's not sure how much time has passed, but she's now facing Harry, and he's toying with the rose ring hanging on her neck.

"Y/N," he whispers; she lifts her gaze from his lilac nails and hums for him to go on. "I have to ask." She lets his words sit in their silence. She knows what he's asking, the same thing running through her mind. 

"No." She frowns. "It felt wrong. I could never-- it was never you." 

Harry can tell she feels sheepish confessing this. 

She chuckles dryly. "I must sound lame; the last person I kissed was you eight years ago."

"No, it's not." He assures her. 

She sighs, "Harry." 

"It was the same for me. My friends tried to set me up multiple times, but it felt like cheating. No one understood." 

"So you haven't…" She trails off. 

"Well acquainted with my hand." He jokes.

She burst out laughing, and seconds later, Harry is as well. Their joyous laugh fills the car but also their hearts. 

"I love you." She breathes out, trying to catch her breath.

"And I love you." 

"Want to know a secret," she asks him.

He nods.

She turns her head to the window; she can see herself and Harry in the reflection. His eyes on her full of adoration. 

"I wrote you letters, hundreds. I've lost count, really, but I've got a box full; they are locked up in mom's attic." Y/N turns, looking back at Harry; there's a soft look on his face. "I wanted to send them, but I couldn't. I didn't want to interfere."

"Darling, that's-" he chokes up, tears escaping him. "Can I read them?" 

Y/N nods, "Of course, they were intended for you after all."

"Will you read them with me?" 

"Sure, if that's what you want." 

"Do you want to know something now?"

Y/N reaches forward and brushes a loose curl back. "Tell me." 

"Each book I've read, I have written a dedication in it for you." 

"What?" She says, surprised. 

"The new bookshelf in mom's living room is filled with books." He waits for her to nod before continuing on. "All books for you."

"Harry," It's her turn to cry now, it seems.

"Thought about you just as much, angel." 

"Do you think we did the right thing, letting each other go?" 

"I do."

"Why?" 

"It brought us together again. Sure it was the time capsule, but there is also Massachusetts." He reminds her.

"Isn't that wild?" She shakes her head in disbelief. "Same residency."

"It was fate, angel. Like you said last night." 

"Yeah, guess fate had a plan, after all, dove." 

Harry chokes up, tears welling up in his eyes. "What did you say?" 

"Fate had a plan."

"After."

"Dove," she breathes out, not even noticing she slipped it in; it came out like second nature. "You're my dove, my kind man, the love of my life." 

Harry grabs her face and connects his lips to hers. It's not soft; it's fast and hot but full of love. She leaned back, feeling the heat in her cheeks. Harry chases her lips, not finished yet. She lets him kiss her as he pressed soft pecks on her lips, liking the feel of her soft lips. 

"Is it too soon to ask to marry you?" Harry asks, trailing kisses down her neck. 

"No, never too soon." She giggles as he kisses a soft spot right under her jaw. "If I recall, I asked you one too many times during high school." 

Harry chuckles, nodding. "Should have accepted sooner." 

She looks at him, not being able to contain her laughter, knowing very well he should have.

"Marry me." He asks, all traces of laughter gone. He holds his breath, waiting for a response. 

"Yes, of course, dove." 

Harry seals it with a kiss. She accepted, and yes, it may seem rushed, but they aren't getting any younger. Their love was put on hold, and now because the time is right, they get to pick up as if no time passed at all. 

They are different people, but Harry and Y/N have only become more perfect for one another. 

2000 DECEMBER - MASSACHUSETTS 

Her eyes snap open, and she quickly sits up, throwing the blanket off herself feeling hot and unfocused, startling Harry making him drop the Pop-Tart he was eating to fall on his chest. 

She looks back at Harry, sitting up with crumbs covering his mouth and half-eaten brown sugar cinnamon sitting on top of his black sweats. 

Y/N can't help but laugh at the sight in front of her, her nightmare now pushed aside. 

"You're laughing." He pouts. "You gave me a proper scare." 

She frowns, "I had a bad dream." 

"Yeah, want to talk about it?" 

She shakes her head no, instead asking him an important question. "Why are you eating Pop-Tarts in bed?" She picks up the broken half and takes a bite, appreciating the strong cinnamon flavor. 

"I got hungry, but I didn't want to leave you alone, and honestly, I'd never willingly leave your cuddles." 

"Did you bring me my own?" She mutters, swallowing the last piece of his.

"Why, of course, I'm no monster." 

"What time are you going in today?" She asks as she opens up the package handing him half since she ate his. He happily accepts. 

"Noon." 

She glances at the alarm clock and sees it is only nine am. She mumbles an 'okay,' settling herself to lay her head on his chest. 

"How are you spending your day off?" His hand running through her hair, always wanting to be touching her in some way.

"In bed." 

Harry doesn't like that. "Still feeling sick." He states.

"Yes, but I'm fine." 

"Okay, but we do work in a hospital." He playfully reminds her.

She lets out a deep sigh. "I'll have Annie check on me tomorrow." 

"Thank you." He kisses her temple, definitely leaving crumbs of food behind.

"I love you, Harry." 

"I love you too." 

Y/N and Harry had come a long way from the Summer of 98'. They got back together and were excited to start the next chapter of their lives together. Their families were thrilled at the news of them getting back together and even happier when they learned about their shared residency location. 

That Summer led them to where they are now; two years into their residency programs and one year into marriage. 

Harry could not wait; he had wanted to take her to city hall for a quick signature but knew she deserved better. They were wed in the botanical garden under the beautiful flower arch she dreamed of. It was the wedding she always dreamed of; it was small and beautiful. Only their closest friends and family were in attendance. Their wedding photo; Harry gazing at her as if she put all the stars in the sky and Y/N smiling at the camera. It sits framed on Y/N's bedside. He decided it went there, so when he turns to look over at her, he sees all of her beauty laid out for him and the happiest day of his life. 

Harry had fought her on changing her last name, wanting her to be called Doctor Y/LN because she worked for it and was a man who wanted his wife to shine and do all she set her mind to. Harry went as far as suggesting hyphenating but still no. She changed her last name to 'Styles.' Y/N told him she spent years dreaming about it in high school, even years later when he wasn't by her side. It's an honor to share his last name because one day, their future children would as well. 

Y/N has a year left in her pediatrics residency, and Harry has two years to go. She has her fellowship to think about, which will add three more years; her focus on Critical Care Medicine. Harry has decided on Addiction Psychiatry which is only a year-long, but he's got his last two years to worry about first. 

Life has been going well, they've had their fair share of arguments but nothing they can't fix. Harry can't say he doesn't love making up; it always leads to a good time.

They didn't know what life had in store for him but looking around at the photos they have hanging up, a picture of Mitch and Sarah's little boy Nathaniel who only gets bigger every time they see him. A photo of Sydney showing off her engagement ring, face full of tears but smile large; Zac off traveling the country smiling in his picture of him visiting the Grand Canyon part of his trip to visit each National Park and document his journey. 

This group of six friends is living their dreams; at sixteen, none of them know what life would be like twelve years down the road, but if it wasn't for each of them having this friendship and deciding to bury a time capsule, they might not be where they are right not; happier and more in love than ever. 

Harry and Y/N are filled with love and know life couldn't be better than it is; incredibly grateful to be in love and be loved back just the same. 

Little do they know their love will soon have to be shared.

_____

Thank you so much for reading! 

I love you and I hope you loved this story <3

#harry styles #timetravelathon #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #harry fluff #thank you for reading!

[sakura-ame-no-ai]

"bring a jacket next time."

pairings: tetsurou kuroo x reader

genre: fluff

notes: in japan, their way of checking the time is much different than america. they use 24-hour clocks. so if it was 1 in the afternoon, it would be counted as 13:00 for them.

a/n: it felt like some special holiday for me today and i don't know why... but seriously, how is my last kenma fanfic getting so much love istg- anyways, enjoy this fanfiction! i couldn't think of a good title for this on... :sob:

you sneeze suddenly when a gust of wind blows against your legs. it is indeed cold outside, but the shriveled leaves scraping their way down the street makes it seem much colder.

"why does it have to be so cold on a beautiful night like this..," you mutter to yourself, wrapping yourself with your arms.

too bad you didn't contemplate on bringing a jacket with you before bursting through the door with kuroo calling behind you.

well, now you feel a little guilty remembering that you lied to kuroo that you were going to buy some snacks at a nearby konbini. in reality, you just want to spend most of the night searching for some shooting stars.

you make a brief trip to the park, to which you find everything abandoned. that one big red slide that you always see children fighting to have their turn on is now empty and lonely. the swings seem motionless, too. however, they still rock back and forth every now and then when a chilly breeze rushes by. the seesaw is tilted down at an angle, making one side touch the ground full of woodchips.

you search for that favorite brown bench that has legs made out of an elegant black metal of some sort. soon, you discover it sitting under a big maple tree silently. it faces a metal fence that is as high as your waist, which a beautiful view of a huge lake stretches out on the other side of that fence. you don't hesitate to plop down and make yourself comfy on the bench, admiring the wavy reflection of the glittering stars and moon on the water's surface.

you could stare at such a view all day...

well, you would if you had brought a jacket though.

the cold night air wraps around you, trying to embrace you in a friendly way, but all it does is make you shiver and lift your feet onto the bench. you hug your knees and bury your mouth and nose inside your arms and knees, cursing to yourself about why you were stupid enough to not bring some warm clothing before setting out.

"just like i thought," a voice that sounds very familiar booms out from behind you, making you flinch.

you turn your head around to see a bedhair walk up to you with a cheeky grin.

"tetsu?!" you squeal, a little shocked that he actually know exactly where you were. "how did you know i'm here?"

kuroo is bundled up in a scarf and his nekoma jacket. he also has a thick piece of folded cloth draped over his right arm, making you assume that it's probably a blanket.

"i've never seen you that eager to do some shopping at the konbini, kitten," he replies, taking a seat next to you.

"you've always been a fan of sceneries outside, so that gave me an idea."

you give him a look of amazement, awed by the fact that he knows you very well like you're his child or something. however, it isn't long before kuroo bonks you on the head.

"you little rascal~ why didn't you bring a coat? it's like below 25 degrees celsius, and here you are, hanging out at the park, short-sleeved, and without a jacket or coat."

you whimper at his remarks.

"well, you know i was excited, tetsu..," you pout, puffing your cheeks out.

he chuckles, "nobody was blaming you, ok?"

kuroo takes a moment to peel off his nekoma jacket and place it over your shoulders. you gratefully hug it over your shoulders. other than the fact that it smells strongly of that lavender body soap you gave him, the jacket felt warm from kuroo's body heat, making you feel safe.

an unintentional smile slips onto your lips and you readjust your gaze to the sky.

"say... do you think there will be any shooting stars tonight?"

kuroo lifts a brow before fixing his gaze at the sky as well.

"oya? hunting for shooting stars?"

you nod eagerly, continuing to look up attentively.

"mhm! you told me that it's shooting star season!"

the branches of the maple tree above you sway gently, swishing its leaves together to create gentle rustling sounds.

kuroo smiles and points towards one of the stars.

"do you know how stars are formed, n/n?" he asks you, his finger directing your gaze towards the appointed star.

you squint to make a more intricate observation of the star while racking your brain, trying to remember your astrology lessons at school.

"well... don't stars form from accumulated gas and dust in space?" you finally conclude, remembering one fact your teacher has emphasized back then.

kuroo nods happily.

"yep. stars form when the gravity of the dust and air collapse together, which makes them heat up out of pressure."

he continues to ramble on about how stars mostly contain hydrogen and helium, the lightest elements to exist in the universe, and how stars are, in reality, exploding balls of gas.

you listen patiently as he explains. you are always interested in his nerdy science talk, as well as the way he is invested in his own world when a discussion related to a scientific topic arises.

it takes him a little bit to finish his explanation with a sneeze.

of course, he's not wearing his jacket. that's why.

you take off the jacket you were wearing and hand it to him.

"you're gonna catch a cold, so take your jacket back."

however, he pushes it back into your chest.

"no, kitten. you have it. i'm worried about you more."

you begin to pout, angry that he's always caring for your health instead of his own.

"no, kuroo," you say with an upset look. "this is not my jacket."

you two begin fighting about who should wear kuroo's jacket, exaggerating the possibilities of not wearing one and lecturing one another.

"that's it," kuroo sighs, looking troubled.

at first, you are confused by his words.

"what do you m-"

it was at this moment that kuroo covers the blanket that you forgot he had brought onto his back and then trapping you inside his arms, wrapping your body inside the blanket.

"there, now we're both warm," he smirks.

you take a while to understand the situation you're currently in before blushing madly. you look up at him, only to see that usual proud smirk on his face. he obviously did this on purpose.

"tetsu?! what the actual hell?!" you scream.

"oya? anything wrong?" he asks a little too 'innocently', pissing you off.

you growl back, "of course, you dumbass! people might see us and take this to like a million different wrong directions!"

"kitten, it's almost half-past 23:00. it's really unlikely that we'll be seen since most people are asleep."

you can't counter back, because that sly cat is right. most people are asleep at this time, so it's highly unlikely that you'd get caught like this with kuroo.

you have no idea how to react, so you decide to lean your back against kuroo, resting your head on his chest. at least, you realize that you feel much warmer than wearing his jacket. in the end, you start to relax, paying closer attention to the steady rise and fall of his chest while he breathes.

"do you ever see stars as memories when you look at them?" you ask kuroo, tilting your head upwards to meet his gaze.

"sometimes," he smiles, looks at one of the stars.

"like that one near that giant cloud reminds me of when i stole your meat from your lunchbox."

you cough.

"do you think this is a great time to bring this up??"

he only smirks at you. "you asked if i get reminded of anything when i look at a star."

you pout a little and fix your eyes to another star and point your finger towards it.

"well, this one reminds me of when yaku beat your ass for stealing meat from my lunchbox."

you two begin talking back and forth, saying which star represented which memory, laughing about the old days, and fighting about various things, like who should've gotten to eat that scrumptious piece of steak.

as you come back to argue about the lunchbox situation again, a white streak catches your eyes, snapping your attention back to the sky.

"look, tetsu! shooting stars!" you exclaim.

what kuroo turns his head to look at the sky with you.

sure enough, more streaks of white rain down like a slight drizzle.

"hurry up! make a wish!" you tell him before clasping your hands together before your face and close your eyes.

kuroo looks at you, then back at the sky. after a while, he closes his eyes and makes his wish.

i want to stay by y/n's side, even after i graduate.

however, he doesn't say it out loud. instead, he wraps his arms around your chest after you have finished making your wish.

for the first time in forever, kuroo gives you the most genuine smile that you've ever seen, which surprises you since you're so used to his cheeky smirks. it reminds you of honey and its sweet flavor.

"you know, kitty, we could do this next time," he coos in the sweetest voice you've ever heard him use.

"did you think i'd stop you?"

"ummmm..."

you look side-ways towards the tree beside you before give him your honest response.

"weeeeell, i thought you'd tell me it'd be too late into the night to do something like this and that i wouldn't be able to wake up if i stay up star-hunting."

kuroo chuckles, petting your head lightly with that big hand of his

"things like this are exceptions."

your eyes light up to his words. he has officially announced the permit to stay up searching for shooting stars that you adore a lot. it makes you very happy that you smile back warmly.

"thank you, tetsurou," you sigh, leaning into his chest comfortably.

"it's nothing, y/n."

he continues to stroke your hair in a soothing way as he maintains that genuine smile on his lips.

"just bring a jacket next time, or star-hunting will be off-limits."

#kuroo tetsurou #tetsurou kuroo #kuroo tetsurou x reader #tetsurou kuroo x reader #kuroo #kuroo x reader #tetsurou #tetsurou x reader #haikyuu x reader #x reader #fanfiction #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #hq #kuroo comfort #kuroo fluff #fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu headcanons #kuroo headcanons #haikyuu x y/n #kuroo x y/n #haikyuu scenarios #kuroo scenarios #anime #manga

[ramzawrites]

Rivals - Prince!Reader x Prince!Eret

Male

Pairings: Eret x Reader

Characters included: Eret

Warnings: n/a

Series: a request from 🌱🌟 my beloved <3 /p

Summary: Prince Y/N and Prince Eret hated each other. That was just a fact. Mostly causing trouble together in order to one up the other. Though over the time even their relationship can change.

Words count: 5367

Authors Note: I’ll be honest you hit me with this request at a very good time so I ended up writing 10 pages in one go haha

At the end I made the executive decision to finally cut it off or I probably would have written even more, for which I’m honestly don’t have the time at the moment. I hope it’s not that obvious but if it is I apologize.

Thank you for the request 🌱🌟

I am reposting it since the original post doesn’t seem to appear in the tags no need to check the original post but I wanted to give a reason why it’s twice on my blog

Prince Eret and Prince Y/N hated each other.

That was just a universally accepted thing and something that made sense. Just like how water is wet, the ground was made out of dirt, Eret and Y/N hated each other.

Both of their respecting kingdoms never had a good relationship to say the least. Way back in the day the two nations have wared against each other which almost ruined both kingdoms forcing the two to an act of neutrality with the behest of the neighboring kingdoms.

Though this was way off in the past. Nowadays they had rebuilt. Their forces and monetary situation stood strong but they stayed neutral. Eyeing each other closely for any slip ups, though they were also bound to contracts that would involve other nations as well should they begin to go to war again, which wasn’t in interest for both parties.

So they tried to mostly ignore each other which only worked to an extent. If you are a strong nation with an impressive military force or with a lot of money, other nations will invite you to their balls, banquets or whatever fancy party they have going at that point. And it was in your best interest to join these as well, to show off your might, wealth or to connect with other foreign powers.

The first time Y/N’s family took him with them to one of these balls, he was barely six years old.

For a six year old a ball was a boring affair. All the adults were courteously laughing and only sipping on their drinks. Occasionally walking on the stage to dance to the slow and boring music.

Y/N was busy watching two older women dance in tandem. Their dresses and silk moving together in a sea of fabric that seemed to hypnotized the child as he sat on the side of the stage. His parents were off somewhere else, feeling they could trust enough in his proper upbringing to not cause any problems, that they left him. Saying that he should try to enjoy himself.

Enjoy himself how? Dance with the lonely grandma that was busy drinking away all the wine in the castle? No, thank you.

Finally tearing his eyes off the dancing women Y/N noticed how someone else was cautiously approaching him. It was another kid in what he assumed was his age. This stranger had fluffy wild hair and had a sympathetic smile on his face. He wore a simple suit similar to Y/N’s but there were a ton of differences in details.

As he got closer Y/N could swear that something seemed off about him. Something in him was screaming but he couldn’t place why he felt like that.

“Hello.” The other kid greeted Y/N.

Y/N looked around the room for a second before setting his attention back on him “Hello. Who are you?” There was a small hope in him, hey maybe this boring ball won’t be so boring after all.

With a proud expression the kid did a proper royal greeting, bowing in front of Y/N for a second “I am Prince Eret from the mighty nation of-“

But Y/N interrupted him “Prince Eret?! I know of you! My parents warned me and told me to ignore you.” He then stuck his tongue out and made a point to look away from him.

Eret furrowed his brows, exclaiming loudly his confusion to this reaction “Huh? Why?”

Y/N rolled his eyes and got off the chair he was sitting on. Just like Eret, he did his own version of the royal greeting that he got taught by his etiquette teachers “I am Prince Y/N.”

He knew he didn’t need to say more which got confirmed by Eret’s worried and confused expression turning into a proper frown.

“Oh, yuck, so that’s what you look like.”

Y/N gasped in anger “What do you mean yuck? You are the yuck one here! Between the two of us I’m clearly the cooler prince!”

“Oh really? Prove it.” Eret huffed as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Now fired up Y/N looked frantically through the whole ball room but couldn’t seem to come up with anything, that was until he saw a servant of the local royal family sauntering around with a plate of drinks and even with a few cheese and meat skewers.

“I bet I could steal more of these skewers from the servants than you.”

Instead of backing down Eret now had a competitive glint in his eyes “You are on.”

And that’s how both Eret and Y/N got into their first real trouble with their parents and other nobles.

They snuck around the people, hiding behind huge skirts and trying their best to grab a skewer from the plate. At first they waited for the servant to look away while they were talking to someone but soon their maneuvers turned riskier and riskier. Jumping up to grab one or even trying to distract them before grabbing another.

At some point for whatever reason both jumped into the air at the same time, grabbing the same skewer which ended with them smashing into the servant who in return fell down, the drinks spilling onto a couple that stood closely by.

As the adults were trying to understand what just happened Y/N grabbed Eret’s arm and yelled “Run!”

The two begun running away, making their way into the garden, hiding behind a bush as they heard some adults screaming and running around.

Y/N didn’t care if Eret got caught by the adults but he was worried he might sell him out to them as well. No, he was positive he would definitely snitch on him.

Out of breath the two kids huddled together, keeping their ears open, trying to catch any sound that might come closer to them.

Eret looked at Y/N  “I clearly won.” He then showed off the skewers he was holding against his suit, effectively ruining it.

Y/N shook his head, showing his own off “Nuh-uh. I clearly won.”

For some reason or another they managed to acquire the same amount of food so they sadly had to come to the conclusion that this was a tie. As they angrily begun snacking on their loot, they still continued throwing childish insults at each other.

This only lasted for a few minutes until their parents found them and figuratively tore them away to yell at them. Saying things like “this is not the proper behavior of a prince! Now we have to apologize to all the people! Do you know what this could cost us?”

From that point on their rivalry really started. Every few months they would meet up again by proxy of being invited to the same noble festivities. In fact every time Y/N was on such a party he fully expected Eret being there as well.

He would arrive and keep look out for that oh so dashing prince from the rival kingdom. Y/N scoffed, Eret wished he thought of him like that but in truth Y/N probably knew the best what kind of idiot he could be. After all he had firsthand experience for this.

While they always ended up in some sort of trouble there was this one moment, when they were twelve years old, that always stood out to him.

As usual Eret and Y/N found each other during a banquet. Both immediately fell back into arguing and making fun of each other. The adults got so tired of it that they sent the two outside so they could, in their words, cool down.

“You look ridiculous in your suit.” Eret mumbled towards Y/N as they wandered outside into the garden. Y/N just rolled his eyes as a response, choosing to ignore Eret at this point, not feeling comfortable with being banished outside together with him.

The garden was beautiful, of course.

Different kinds of flowers were planted along all the sides of the garden. Between them stood a few Willow trees with their long leaves hanging above the flowers and seating opportunities while in the middle of the whole place stood a beautiful huge pond with a statue protruding from the middle of it. The statue displayed two unidentifiable human beings holding on to each other, both holding an urn up into the air together where some water was rushing out ouf down into the pond.

While this all, together with the moon light, looked almost magical Y/N was more concentrated on what was inside the pond.

As he walked over to the water he could see a few koi fish flitting around in there. He sat down and lazily begun drawing invisible patterns into the water. Sometimes the fish would come close only to immediately swim away once they either saw the hand or felt the movement.

Eret was just standing dumbfounded to the side. Staring at Y/N which infuriated him. He could feel his dark eyes lingering on him and it just annoyed him. Eret finally shut up but now he was just standing there in uncomfortable silence.

Y/N let out a frustrated sigh “Stop doing that.”

Eret looked bewildered at that “Stop, what?”

“Staring! I can see you staring! I know I’m handsome but come on.” Y/N snickered at the last part.

This time Eret rolled his eyes “Nah, I was just thinking how easy it would be to push you into the water right now and was debating if it was worth getting into trouble for it.”

“And what did your small brain come up with?”

Eret walked over and sat down next to Y/N “It’s sadly not worth it. I feel like I would get in even more trouble than last time when I was destroying you in that food fight.”

Y/N angrily shook his head “Oh, no! I was winning! You were lucky my father literally pulled me away from you or you wouldn’t even be standing here right now!”

“You wish! Your father saved the small bit of dignity you have!”

Ignoring Eret’s attempt to obviously rile him up and make him more angry, Y/N turned now fully away from him and instead returned to watching the fish. They looked more interesting and had more personality than Eret anyhow.

It was also definitely easier to look at the animals than Eret. Every time he would look at him even only for a little bit this fuzzy anger inside the pit of Y/N’s stomach would come up and by god he hated it. Unbeknownst to him this feeling was mutual.

Eret almost seemed chuffed that Y/N didn’t seem to react and instead chose to follow him suit with watching the fish.

“If we are already stuck out here let’s make it at least interesting.” Y/N broke the silence “Let’s catch some fish. I’m betting I can catch more than you.”

Eret was already getting rid of his jacket and pushed his sleeves up “I doubt that!”

Not wasting time Y/N shed his jacket as well and rolled his sleeves up only to jump into the water himself once the fish stayed out of both their reaches due to their incessant punching into the water.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Not losing!” was all Y/N said.

Eret not feeling too keen on possibly losing, jumped into the pond as well, trying to ignore Y/N who was inadvertently splashing water his way.

As a bit of a payback Eret threw some water towards Y/N which resulted in him loosing a prime chance for trying to grab a fish.

Everything is allowed in love and war after all and this was definitely war.

Though this action led to Y/N retaliating with spraying water back on Eret. Soon the two didn’t care about the fish anymore and were too busy trying to wrestle the other under the water. It wasn’t a full blown fight, no real punches fell but there was a lot of pushing and pulling.

They only stopped once they heard a blood curdling scream. Apparently the noble who owned the garden saw them inside her pond and was obviously not too pleased with it.

Yeah, there was a lot of anger and screaming afterwards but for Y/N and Eret it just fueled their hatred toward each other. If the other one wasn’t there, then they wouldn’t have this problem in the first place but since this wasn’t the case all they could do as proper heirs to their respecting kingdoms was to make the others existence pain.

Over the years their rivalry became infamous and nobles who invited both to their festivities either tried to keep increased watch over them or to the detriment of both sides of the families, tried to incite them. Noble people where a strange lot, trying to find entertainment in the weirdest places.

Not that Y/N or Eret cared too much. They were too busy trying to screw the other over though their methods changed over the years. As kids they were more physical with it while the older they got they tended to use their words more and more to the relieve of their parents.

A good example for that was when both were about sixteen years old.

At this point they learned to rein in their anger towards the other and instead concentrated more or less on their royal duties. Well, they tried but every time they saw each other anger would just flood their systems.

It was a typical ball really. The nobles were busy mingling with each other, spreading false compliments in order to gain the political or social upper hand. Some called it an intricate game but Y/N thought it was just stupid. Just say what you think and don’t sugar coat it. That was something and maybe the only thing he and Eret could agree on. As much as he hated that guy he wasn’t scared to tell Y/N what he thought of him.

He appreciated him for that. A shiver ran down his spine as soon as that thought crossed his mind and Y/N just shoved it away. Never in his life would he actually appreciate that mad prince.

That said it was a bit weird how he hasn’t spotted Eret yet. Not that he was specifically looking out for him or anything. He just wanted to be aware where he was so he could avoid him. Was he invited? His family was here but he seemed to be gone. Maybe he finally gave up trying to one up Y/N and stayed home.

Y/N doubted that though. The only reason why Eret wouldn’t appear to something like this was if he was seriously sick. It happened only once and Y/N ended up being bored to death. So what if he derived entertainment from his rival? That’s a part of the reason what rivalries are for, right?

Spending so much time thinking about him made Y/N uncomfortable. This one feeling in the pit of his stomach just flared up again which he didn’t appreciate one bit. Just another reason why Eret was so annoying. He was the only person this happened with.

Bored out of his mind Y/N begun moving through the ball room. There was one place Eret could be hiding away at. If anything Y/N could predict some behavior from him over the years. Making sure to stay away from all the dancing people and the conversations, not feeling interested to take part in it. Instead he moved towards the gardens.

It was just the place he and Eret would default to since at the slightest chance of trouble the other nobles liked to throw them out immediately.

So when he spotted Eret walking around the rose bushes it didn’t completely surprise him.

“And here I thought I spied a birds nest in between the bushes but alas it is just Eret’s hair.”

Eret visibly flinched once he heard Y/N. Apparently he had been so busy with his own thoughts that he didn’t notice Y/N approaching him. He frowned at the other prince while he in return was just smirking smugly.

Sighing Eret walked over to a particular big rose and begun inspecting it“ And I thought I would finally be free of you. You arrived late, huh?”

“Hardly my fault, though I too was hoping you finally conceded and stayed home but here you are just staring at some roses like some hopeless romantic prince from some sort of fairy tale.”

When Eret didn’t immediately fire back and hesitated Y/N’s eyes widened “No! Don’t tell me! Don’t tell me you actually have a crush on someone! Who is the poor person?”

As he spoke the words out loud it felt like his chest was ablaze. Something about that thought rubbed him the wrong way. He just labelled it as a different way for his annoyance towards Eret to show up but it confused him nonetheless.

Realistically what did he care about his love affairs?

Finally Eret vehemently shook his head “No, nothing like that! Why was this where your mind went? I was just bored and am looking at the flowers. Even you can admit that they are pretty, right?” Eret chuckled “Or are you jealous somehow?”

“Only in your dreams.” Y/N responded with a disgusted expression on his face.

“Nightmares you mean.” Eret added before pulling one rose out of the bush.

Y/N looked around hoping none of the staff or someone else saw this “Dude, what the hell are you doing? If you get into trouble for stealing flowers and I’m around everyone will think I’m part of this.”

“They won’t notice, Y/N. Well, they will only notice it if you aren’t careful enough. You need to have an eye for such things and me begrudgingly knowing you as well as I do, you do not have an eye for that.”

This is always how it happens. Every god damn time. One of the two would make a statement that the other person couldn’t do a very specific thing and all bets were off.

A dangerous glint appeared in Y/N’s eyes “I’ll give you the most amazing rose bouquet without tipping anyone off.” He didn’t seem to realize what he just said but Eret did.

While Y/N turned around in order to scour out the place Eret was still standing in the back. A soft blush on his face. Almost angry with himself he frowned and turned to the opposite direction Y/N just went. He was just so frustrating to be around. Doesn’t even think before he speaks.

This whole endeavor took longer than both initially expected. Most of the time they would just saunter between the bushes only occasionally plucking a flower off. Often enough the two stood in front of the same rose, trying to act as fast as possible to get it before the other.

Eret clearly went for the flower first but once his hand touched the stem of the rose, Y/N was there as well, his hand brushing past Eret’s, holding onto the lower part of the stem.

“You’ve got be kidding me.” Y/N cursed.

Eret squinted his eyes as he looked at him “What do you mean? I went for it first! You still continued grabbing it like the brute you are!”

Y/N gasped in a fake display of disbelief. Acting like the biggest insult just got hurled towards him when in fact Eret has said worse things before or even the countless nobles who suffered damages due to their shenanigans.

Both stared at each other, not letting go off the rose. Their brows furrowed into deep scowls as they just continued staring at each other. Hoping that for some reason any kind of weakness would just magically appear or that someone will let go off the damn flower.

It was incredibly uncomfortable for the both of them. Y/N and Eret both stared directly into each other’s eyes. Pink dusted faces turned towards one another, not daring to move a muscle.

“God, I hate you so much.” Y/N grumbled.

Eret nodded “Believe me the feeling is mutual.”

After a few more seconds of staring and angry expressions they both let go at the same time.

There they stood. Two princes of enemy kingdoms holding each a small bouquet of roses with blushing faces.

If you would ask them about it they would immediately exclaim the blush was just a result of their anger bubbling out.

Eret let out a breath he didn’t notice he was holding “Tie?”

Y/N looked down at his own bouquet “Yeah, sure, let’s call it a tie. This is stupid anyhow.”

That was the last time they saw each other for a while.

Since they both were heirs to their respective thrones they soon got sent away to boarding schools in order to get properly trained for their future duties. Besides being educated and introduced what these duties actually entailed, they also got trained in the art of combat.

While most of, if not all, nobles learn how to fight it was something expected from Y/N and Eret. They had to get good at it. A tradition that still stemmed from the waring days of their competing nations.

So for the next four years Y/N was sent away to a boarding school inside his own nation, only later hearing that Eret befell the same fate, which didn’t surprise him.

The years dragged on rather slowly. Most of the subjects were boring but Y/N realized they were important so he put himself through the grueling task of proper studying. The daily training sessions helped him immensely by bringing some sort of change to his every day and tended to look forward to them. Mostly since he became good friends with his coach. A mercenary hired by his family to train him.

Becoming a friend to him, while others tried stay away from Y/N. Most didn’t dare to approach the only heir of their kingdom, others knew he was a bit of a troublemaker and stayed away from him because of it.

Y/N caught himself missing Eret from time to time. While he was annoying and infuriating at best, Y/N couldn’t help but think it was more enjoyable than spending his time alone surrounded by people around his age.

Every now and again his thoughts would always jump back to Eret. Hell, he even once considered writing him a letter before he stopped in his tracks, realizing what he was about to do. Silently chastising himself for it.

Y/N graduated when he was twenty. His parents amazed by his progress threw compliments towards his improved behavior.

“Guess Prince Eret was the problem all along.” His mother noted.

He scoffed, of course Eret was the majority of the reason for the problems. His mother only needed to mention him and Y/N already felt the same annoyance from back then again. Guess some things never change.

It was the time for a lot of nobles to graduate so one family took it up on themselves to prepare a grand ball in order to celebrate these young adults. It also helped to bring all the heirs and influential people together to form new relationships that could be beneficial for their future rule.

Y/N got invited as well.

As a graduation gift his parents bought him fancy new clothes made out of the finest cloth. While he thought it was a bit over the top, it was comfortable so he didn’t complain too much. They even fashioned him with a ceremonial crown that complimented the whole outfit quite nicely.

It was only then that it really sunk in what this all meant for him. He had to act proper no matter what from now on. While people were always aware of him, now they were really watching. This also meant he had to start to properly get into contact with other influential families and nations which meant he had to actually dance on this ball.

So when he and his family stepped out of the wagon that brough them to this event, his heart was beating fast. Y/N was nervous and yet he still managed to put on a confident smile. He didn’t go through all these etiquette classes without learning a few things at least.

When he walked into the ball room, a servant announced his and his families arrival which caused a lot of people to turn their heads. It was the first official outing of an heir to an incredibly strong nation, of course they wanted to see what he was like.

In fact it didn’t take long until Y/N got swarmed by multiple people talking courteously and making conversation with him. He returned the gestures and mingled with the others, curious to see if anyone interesting was here. It was the first time in a long time people didn’t seem to avoid him, even if it was purely for the purpose of forming new beneficial connections.

It beat sitting around alone.

Y/N slowly scanned the huge room with his eyes that’s when he spied something that made his heart figuratively jump into his throat.

In the corner stood someone tall with a shock of brown and fluffy hair that got pushed down by a crown. He wore an amazing suit made out of silk and with a variant of different purples completed with something that resembled a cape. As he talked to the person in front of him he had this huge, genuine, beautiful smile on his face that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat.

He was handsome that’s all he could say about him. Knocking all the air out of Y/N’s lungs.

Pressing his hand against his madly blushing face Y/N tried to look like he was deep in thought and not just silently checking out this one person way off in the corner.

“Be still my beating heart.” Y/N mumbled as he pressed his free hand on his chest. Feeling his heart beating fast and hard against his ribcage. Luckily no one heard him but he did receive a few worried and confused looks. Guess he wasn’t as sneaky about his display of emotions as he had thought.

Y/N took a deep breath in and coughed in order to calm himself down a bit “I’m sorry to interrupt you all, but I need to go. I need to find something out. It was an honor talking with you and I hope we can continue this later on.”

With all the confidence he didn’t have Y/N slowly made his way towards that person. Something was just pulling him towards him and he needed to at least know his name. It was like his heart and mind both yelled at Y/N.

While walking he could tell that his breath was short. He felt hot and he was certain that his face was still in a lovely shade of red.

Did he just develop a probably one sided crush? Perhaps.

Once he got close enough, he begun to tremble. His knees felt weak and by god he wanted to turn around but something in him just forced him to move on. As if this was his only chance to ever exchange even a word with that stranger.

Y/N was about to put on a polite smile and wave towards him but the stranger was faster and turned towards him.

The stranger audibly and unmistakably gasped. His eyes wide open as his face suddenly turned into a similar shade of red to Y/N.

“Hello.” Y/N begun speaking. He wanted to introduce himself but his voice failed him. Throat and lips dry out of nervousness.

“Y/N?” he spoke with a deep, soothing voice and Y/N had to admit he liked hearing his name coming out of his mouth.

Wait that handsome stranger knew him?

That’s when it hit him. But that can’t be! That was impossible, he would have recognized him immediately!

“Oh. Eret?”

Y/N put his hand against his mouth trying to hide the smile and blush. Why was he feeling like this? Why wasn’t his typical white anger returning? He still had that fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach but something felt different. Maybe it was the maturity from the years or maybe he just imagined it.

Eret was madly blushing and just staring at Y/N as he slowly lifted up his trembling hand “Let’s talk. Would you care for a dance?”

That feeling in his stomach increased as well as the beating of his heart and yet Y/N put his hand into that of Eret’s. Together they walked towards the middle of the room. Slowly beginning to dance.

Y/N was at this point biting his lip. He wanted to talk, say anything but his mind was running in overdrive. No proper sentences would form. Luckily some sort of muscle memory jumped in when it came to the dancing but everything else? No, he was completely screwed.

Why now? Why was he reacting like this?

“You look like you are doing well.” Eret suddenly spoke. His voice trembling almost as much as his hands.

Y/N nodded as he continued moving in tandem with Eret. Their feet skillfully moving around on the dance floor.

“You look good, uh, I mean, you look alright as well, you do look good but I mean you seem to be doing good as well.” After Y/N stammered that out he mentally begun cursing himself out.

He used to wrestle Eret into the mud, why is this happening to him? Why can’t he just go back to his anger, that was easier to deal with. Wait, is that the reason why their anger towards each other held on for so long? Sure, their families had always a rivalry but over time something must have subtly changed concerning their relationship that it managed to end up like this.

Y/N felt like a lovesick pre-teen and he hated it.

Eret suddenly let out a short laugh “I’m guessing you didn’t expect this as well?”

Y/N raised his eyebrows “I- I have no idea what you mean. Like, seriously, what exactly of this do you mean?” Of course his nervousness showed itself via him ranting his thoughts off.

“Us meeting like this again.”

“Seeing our past track record I feel like it was inevitable, though this time it certainly does feel different.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Eret smirked and gave Y/N a wink only to end up turning back into a blushing mess himself.

Now Y/N begun to chuckle, his blush ever present on his face, he pressed his forehead against Eret’s shoulder. Trying his best to hide his face from his view, not willing to give Eret the satisfaction that he succeeded in whatever the hell he just did.

Instead of stopping the two continued to dutifully dance. The best way for a private conversation was while dancing after all but the two were too busy snickering at themselves.

While Y/N had his head still pressed against Eret, Eret spoke up “I’m glad you are here, Y/N. Meeting you here like that again after these years, it made me realize something.”

“Like what?” The same was true of him, of course but he was almost scared of saying it out loud.

Y/N looked back up again but Eret hesitated. His eyes landed on Y/N’s lips only to immediately snap back up to his eyes.

So when he asked “May I?” Y/N knew exactly what he meant.

He gave him a nod which resulted in the two stopping to dance. Eret placed one of his hands against Y/N’s jawline and the other continued to rest at his side as he closed the space between their lips. At first softly brushing their lips for a small second but then Eret went back in pressing his lips properly on Y/N’s only to separate after a few moments.

Y/N put his hands on Eret’s chest, feeling his rapidly beating heart beneath his fingertips “I thought you hated me.” He noted smugly.

Eret laughed “I guess we both were wrong in some way.” He immediately dove back into Y/N’s lips, deepening the kiss, ignoring the confused and surprised noises from all the other guests.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt reader insert #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x Y/N #mcyt x male reader #dream smp x male reader #dream smp reader insert #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp x reader #dream smp x Y/N #dsmp x male reader #dsmp reader insert #dsmp fanfiction #dsmp x reader #the eret #eret smp #eret dsmp #the eret x Reader #the eret x Y/N #reader insert #ramza writes #🌱🌟-anon #🌱🌟

[fatefulfaerie]

Domesticity

Zelink Week 2021 prompt #5/7 @zelinkweek2021

Word Count: 1,951

Incarnation: Breath of the Wild 2 (post)

Additional Prompts Followed: Hearts, Family

No Trigger Warnings

“Is one of us dying?”

The feast was definitely unsettling to Wendie, and although she was mostly joking, she couldn’t help but think that such a nice dinner at such a random time of the year was odd. Of course her dad was a great cook, but this was a step above, despite there being no family birthdays for at least three months and no holidays for five.

“No,” her mother said as she placed on the table a large bowl of goat-buttered mashed potatoes, one of Wendie’s favorite foods. She had said it with a slight motherly laugh and a warm smile. “No one is dying. We’re just having a family dinner.”

The mother, who went by the name Zelda, had aged gracefully over the past twenty years, blonde hair highlighted with streaks of white that her husband would often call angelic and ethereal when she would doubt her beauty. At the moment, her age-hued hair was swept into a single braid behind her head, messy yet secure.

“Our family dinners aren’t usually this elaborate,” Wendie observed. “You made mashed potatoes and seafood rice balls—which is Elyjah’s favorite food—grilled carrots, meat pie, mushroom skewers and you have an apple turnover on the counter for dessert!”

“Nothing gets past you,” her father said, putting a bowl of baked and salted radishes on the table. His blue eyes looked over to Zelda. “I think we raised them too smart.”

“Nonsense,” Zelda said, walking forward and using the rag that was just draped over her shoulder to wipe a smattering of flour off of Link’s forehead. “Where’s Elyjah?”

Wendie made a sound that sounded a lot like a lazy “I don’t know” while shrugging her shoulders where she sat at the table.

“He can just eat when he gets home,” Wendie reasoned. “There’s more than enough food.”

Wendie didn’t see her parents exchange glances, the seventeen-year old not caring in the slightest that her twin brother wasn’t here to ruin her first dibs on dinner.

“I’ll try and find him,” Zelda said with a sigh, Wendie looking back up at her parents. Link nodded as Zelda departed. Wendie once again questioned what was going on.

“Ly!” The father and daughter heard outside, Zelda from just the doorstep of their modest Hateno home calling out to the entirety of Hyrule. Link sat down across from his daughter, elbows on the table and arms folded into each other. The deep thought he was in concerned Wendie greatly. He wouldn’t even meet her glance. Was she in trouble?

“Okay, okay, I’m coming.”

Elyjah.

Of all the people to be in trouble, surely it was him. He had never gotten into anything truly bad but he was the biggest prankster in Hateno. The only shop he wasn’t banned from was the dye shop. The green-eyed troublemaker was here nonetheless and Wendie prepared herself for another fun show. Zelda moved to sit down next to Link at the table but Elyjah stopped as soon as he saw the table, mouth popped open and body frozen.

“Is someone dying?”

He had looked over to his sister when he asked the question.

“Yeah,” she said. “You.”

“What?” Elyjah asked, almost believing it.

“Wendie, that’s enough now,” Zelda said, before looking over to her son. “No one is dying. We would just like to talk to you both.”

Elyjah sat next to Wendie with the same bewildered look as her, trying to figure out what it was before their parents spit it out. It was like Hylia’s Day presents except they didn’t have a good feeling about this, especially when Link took Zelda’s hand and looked at their children, ready to address them.

And yet it was Zelda who started.

“Do you two remember the fairytale we used to tell you?” Zelda inquired, her voice shaky. “The bedtime story? Of the princess and the knight?”

Neither Elyjah nor Wendie had any clue of the relevance, but they both remembered the tale well.

“The one with the weird ending?” Wendie asked nonetheless. “Where he rescued her and then that was it?”

“Yeah,” Elyjah said. “Didn’t they just stare at each other in silence? After all they had been through, it seemed like there should have been more.”

Link dove his hand into his forehead.

“Zelda, you could have given them a better ending,” Link suggested.

Zelda scoffed and put her hands on her hips.

“It was a lesson in imagination,” she said. “And clearly none of you have any.”

“But that’s besides the point…” Link said, prompting Zelda in a different direction.

“Yes,” Zelda said, nodding at Link and returning her gaze to their children, confused as ever. And yet she smiled at them.

“You both have grown up so fast,” Zelda said. “We both love you very much and cannot believe that you have blossomed right before our eyes into adults.”

Zelda’s smile became sad and she bowed her head.

“You see it’s a lot easier to lie to children.”

Wendie’s brow furrowed.

“Lie…” she repeated from her mother.

When Zelda’s head tilted back up, green was glazed with waves of coming tears, making the emeralds that Link fell in love with a hundred years ago shine even brighter.

“That fairytale…” Zelda said. “The princess who used her sealing power to keep away Calamity Ganon and the knight who slept in a ruined Hyrule for a hundred years in order to recover from his injuries and save her…”

Zelda stopped herself. Twenty years of keeping it in and it seems it wanted to stay in. She wrestled with her conflicted heart, kept it at bay long enough for her to blurt it out.

“It’s true,” Zelda said, no weakness in her voice, no lie, no apprehension. “The knight and the princess really did fight the calamity, really did survive a century to see it through and then some. Once they tracked down the cause of the anomaly, destroying the true form of Ganon, they settled down in Hateno. They got married and eventually gave life to twins, a boy and a girl.” Zelda’s eyes were proud as she looked upon her children, although they glistened with tears. Her heart hurt to see their faces in shock, but the outspoken truth felt better than she could have imagined. She felt Link’s grip tighten around her fingers.

“You both have royal blood in you,” Zelda said. “Even though I stepped away from the throne in the search of a simpler, more fulfilling life, you both still have claim to the titles of Prince Elyjah and Princess Wendie. We wanted you to know in case that path would prove fulfilling for you and…well, now that you’re adults you have the right to know the truth.”

Wendie stood up and walked out of the house, her parents not daring to stop her. Elyjah, however, just sat in shock, piecing it all together in his mind. Link and Zelda both could see his green eyes working, much like his mother’s did when she went over schematics or theorized about plant life.

“The story,” he finally started, “everything you went through…the pressure…you wanted to protect us from that…you wanted to give us the childhood you never had…that neither of you had.”

Link nodded.

“That’s right.”

Elyjah pursed his lips and nodded. Sometimes he was just like his dad. He shrugged.

“Okay,” he said, replacing his empty plate with the one filled with the seafood rice balls meant for the whole family. “Cool,” he continued, or at least it sounded like the word “cool”, his mouth mostly filled with rice.

Link raised his eyebrows and looked over at Zelda.

“Apparently we’re…cool.” Link said the last word as if it were completely foreign.

“Not all of us,” Zelda reminded her husband. She started to stand up. “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

Yet Link placed a hand on her arm.

“I’ll go,” Link said. “You stay and enjoy the food.”

Link found his daughter on the banks of Firly Pond, knees hugged close to her chest and water lapping at her bare toes.

At first he waited with his hand on the bark of the near apple tree, pursing his lips. Sometimes he was thrust back in time twenty years, when he felt he had no idea how to be a dad. This was one of those moments.

Link saw in his mind’s eye Wendie’s big blue eyes staring up at him, stubby arms reaching for him. He smiled. She grew up so fast.

“I know you’re there,” he heard Wendie say. She didn’t turn her head away from the pond. “Did you come to give me a speech?”

Link walked towards her.

“Maybe.”

He sat down next to her and Wendie only gave him the smallest of glances.

“I feel like I don’t know my parents at all,” she finally said.

Link nodded.

“I understand.” He said. “I don’t agree, but I understand.”

Wendie looked over to his profile, trying to ascertain how he could be serious. The calamity was real and her parents fought it. Sheikah technology really could heal fatal wounds and the goddesses power really was wielded by a mortal, not to mention her own mother, who never seemed like a princess in the slightest. Her father was a knight in a kingdom that really did exist and she?

Well she was a princess. This whole time, she was a princess. The girl who was called the “ugly duckling” of the family as a child was a princess in peasant’s clothing. She almost wanted to go brag to the town, but that seemed petty for just a small ounce of appreciation from the people her age who used to tease her when they would play as children.

Her parents were legends and in comparison, what was she?

Definitely not a princess.

“You know us as what we became after everything we went through,” Link finally said, having taken the time to get his words together. “The people we were before…”

He hesitated.

“We were nothing more than what the kingdom wanted us to be…statues, legends, weapons…we were never fully ourselves, and we could never afford to be ourselves with an entire kingdom looking at us to save them from a calamity. The slivers that were left of us found a friendship in each other, one that grew into love in time. After everything was settled, we began to truly find ourselves, basking in the freedom to do so. It’s something that usually occurs in a fifteen year old but your mother and I were a hundred and twenty years old when we solved the identity crisis. She did not want to be royalty and I did not want to be a knight. When we finally did not need to be those things, we took our first breaths as Link and Zelda. We wanted our children to take those breaths from the very second they were born, and that is why we let you grow up before we told you the truth. We wanted royalty to be an option for you two, not a necessity. We wanted you to become yourselves, not tiny versions of us. I only hope we have…at least I think we have.”

Wendie smiled.

“You have,” she said. “If you want your daughter to have absolutely no idea what she wants to do with her life.”

Link brought his daughter closer by hugging her far shoulder, bringing her close enough to kiss the top of her head.

“That’s exactly what I want,” he said. It sounded strange but Link didn’t mean it as a bad thing. “Because finding out your passion for yourself is the most exciting thing in this entire wild land.”

#zelink #zelink week 2021 #zelinkweek2021 #botw #botw 2 #but like twenty years after #hateno

[latenightdecaf]

Entry 6 - of light gaze and worrisome face

part of let the pile of good things grow series - series masterlist

previous entry here

Yoongi x reader

Ft. nonidol!bts

Producer!yoongi, roommate!yoongi, soft!yoongi

slow burn romance, friendship, slice of life

series of drabbles/one shots

no warnings for now

A/N: starting to get the hang of this again, it’s been a while so i’m just going where my imagination takes me. So i’ll probably be posting another one for tomorrow before the motivation leaves me. Hope you all like it.

Word count: 1,953

Pacing back and forth in the living room as you’re having this conversation with your friend and also editor, Hye Jin. Talking you out into the possibility of taking in another project that would put an indefinite pause to your own book.

“I couldn’t possibly say no, she had this whole speech on how she wanted to make this book for her baby. To read to her when she’s old enough. Words from a loving mother for her newborn child, my goodness.” You stopped and sighed. “I know, but having to accept this means also putting your book on hold, you’ve been working on that for months now—is that really something you are willing to do?” Hye Jin reminded you on the other end. You stopped on your tracks, not saying a word and just looking blankly over the view from your living room. Thinking to yourself, ‘I can’t believe it’s summer already.’

Yoongi who have just woken up and is getting himself some water in the kitchen and were just looking intently at your back not particularly eavesdropping in your conversation, but just looking. You haven’t even realized he walked in.

“I know you, you’re just running away from this. You’ve been so scared of finally publishing something that is yours and yours only. So when a small window of opportunity presents itself you immediately took the ticket to leave.” Hye Jin, your editor who has became a good friend to you throughout these years, has always been good to you—she can so easily read you, too.

“You know for someone who’s actually trying to get pregnant for months now, you don’t seem to understand her feelings. Of course, I’m just here to help.” Weak argument on your end, you know she’s right when she said that you were running away. “You’re always there to help. But what about you? You know for someone who doesn’t want to have kids. I’m surprised you’re too adamant to do this.” Her statement made you laugh. “Have you changed your mind?” She added.

“I may not want kids, but I’m not heartless.”

And those were the last phrase Yoongi heard from you as we backed to his room.

Your conversation with Hye Jin went on for a couple more minutes only to end up with some sort of a compromise.

“You’ll need minimum 3-4 months, and probably maximum 6/7 months to wrap this all up? You need to get this done more quickly. That’s my only deal.” You sighed in defeat. “I’ll try.” Ending the call and waving the white flag. You too were also not sure of what you’re getting yourself into. Is it just you running away? Or is this the small part of you feeling guilty again.

“You’ll need minimum 3-4 months, and probably maximum 6/7 months to wrap this all up? You need to get this done more quickly. That’s my only deal.” You sighed in defeat. “I’ll try.” Ending the call and waving the white flag. You too were also not sure of what you’re getting yourself into. Is it just you running away? Or is this the small part of you feeling guilty again.

Weeks later, Yoongi’s packing up for their fishing trip that his friend, Jin insisted they would come. He felt like he has no choice but it might be good reason to go our for a change.

“Hey, I thought you said you guys were going camping? Why do you have your equipments with you… you poor corporate slave.”

He laughed at your remark. You’re still looking at his stuff all puzzled and confused by how heavy it all looks. You leaned on the kitchen counter as you watch him put his stuff out from his room.

You asked again, “Dont you think it’s a little too much? Cant you leave some stuff? Do you even have clothes in there? How bout food? Not important? Music is life?” He laughed. You’re good at making him laugh.

He finds all of your worrisome-sarcastic remarks endearing. He looked at you and said, “Look, it’s like you—you not taking your ipad everywhere you go. Or that small sketchbook you have. You draw every chance you get, you draw in the middle of lunch or while waiting for someone. And if not your ipad, you draw even on table napkins and ask the waiter for more. It’s the same for me.”

You let out a smile at his comparison.

“Okay okay, point taken mister. Point. Taken. But my ipad wont break my back—just saying.” You teasingly replied.

“Maybe i can leave some.” Looking at his bags and talking to himself as he puts some of his stuff back in his room and minutes later he’s done preparing for their camping tomorrow.

“All done?” You asked as you look over to a now somehow reduced luggage. “I’ll help you put some of it in your car.”

You carried with him some of his bags as he is the type to have everything ready before leaving.

As you walked down the stairs, just carrying the lightest possible baggage you could ever find. “You sure you have enough food in here?” Lifting the bag and shaking to hear whats inside. “I mean i know you can certainly whip anything and turn it into a meal but this looks like there’s just ramen in here.”

He finds you cute when you worry.

“We’ll do grocery tomorrow on our way, no worries.” That statement puts you at ease. You reached the ground floor and towards his car. “That sounds good. I mean—just incase the fishing thing wont work out. You know, like last time? There might be a lot of fish in the sea and then suddenly there’s none for you—i mean that in the most literal sense. Not just in women, you know—just incase.” Teasing him again and bringing up the time he went home from a fishing trip. He was so tired, they didn’t caught a single fish. And the trip was cut short and they all immediately went home. He declared then to never go with Jin again but I guess, he love that Hyung of him a lot to be packing all these for yet another fishing trip.

There’s a good sense of companionship between the two of you. The way you can always make him smile without even trying. The way you always tease him lightly. He’s known you for a while, has seen you with your friends and he knows that you’re just the warmest person—to everyone, not just to him. But it looks like something has been bothering you lately, he even offered if you wanted to go with him on their fishing trip, assuring you that Jin and Hoseok are good people and nothing bad will happen. But you respectfully declined. Not just because you don’t eat fish but because you just need some time alone. Not that Yoongi has ever been a bother to you in any way too but just alone would be nice, you thought.

Yoongi will be gone for the whole weekend and possibly be returning on Sunday afternoon. You don’t have any particular plans just work and then some more work. As soon as you’re both back into the apartment you asked, “You’re leaving tonight? At midnight?”

“Yeah around that time, why?” Yoongi confirmed.

“Nothing.”

“Are you okay?” He asked, as you stopped in front of the refrigerator to get yourself some coffee.

“Yeah, why won’t I be?”

“You do know you say that a lot.” Yoongi grabbed himself a glass and grabbed the pitcher in your hand and you just smiled. “There’s not much meat left in the fridge, couple of things are missing too. You want me to go to grocery before I leave?” Leaning in the kitchen sink and drinking your coffee. You let out a deep sigh unknowingly. “No, I’ll go. Don’t worry.” You left your empty glass onto the sink. “I’m just saying, I can go if you’re not up for it.” You shake your head to reassure him, “I don’t mind, okay? I’m going to be fine.” You walked passed him as you went to your room.

Yoongi definitely knows that something’s been bothering you for days. He doesn’t want to pry, if you don’t want to talk about it. He just keeps looking at you, just in case you want to talk—these days your mind has always been elsewhere and there’s just so much work to be done.

You wanted to say goodbye before he left but you fell asleep in the middle of the evening and woke up half past one. You went outside to check and it looks like he already left. You got yourself some water from the kitchen and there’s a post-it left in the fridge that says, “Got you some groceries, call me if there’s anything.” You opened fridge and he even refilled your ice creams. You know you couldn’t have a more thoughtful cat. Even when he went away for almost a week for work and you were dying from a sky high fever, you never really called him for anything. But he constantly reminds you that you always can.

Yoongi volunteered to drive this time for some odd reason. It’ll be an almost 2 hour drive from Seoul to Daejeon, he actually doesn’t mind driving and quiets enjoy it more than he’d ever admit. Everything is set, their fishing trip as orchestrated by his hyung, Jin and Hoseok who had no choice but to be dragged unto this trip. They’ve been his friends for the longest time, being in the same company who also works in the industry. Hoseok, a renowned choreographer and Jin, one of the company directors in his agency. He never would’ve agreed to yet another fishing trip if only Jin didn’t promised to have everything paid for and ready to go. He held Hoseok hostage though and so he has no choice but to go as well. Sleeping at the passenger’s seat they both drifted away as Yoongi drives.

They have gone to multiple fishing trips over the years, some where even overseas during their vacation and something wrong always turn out like the time they have to cut the trip short because they have been sitting in the boat for hours and they haven’t caught a single thing. The owner of the boat found it odd too.

But to Yoongi’s surprise everything’s turning out smoothly, on their second day of camping they were able to caught a lot of salmon and have it for dinner. Stuck in his own thoughts while grilling some salmon, Jin shouted. “Yoongi-ah! You’re burning it.” Immediately going back to reality, and thankfully saving the precious fish from burning. “What are you thinking about so deeply?”

“No it’s nothing, Hyung.” He replied as he kept tending to his almost burnt fish.

Once grilling is done they all gathered to have their dinner with some drinks. Soju and beer is always present and with Hoseok around to play some games. In the middle of all the silliness that is Jin and Hoseok and taking the game way too seriously for their own good. Jin asked Yoongi, “Why are you always staring at your phone?” He immediately hide it and said, “No nothing, hyung.”

“What are you thinking of again?” Knowing how Yoongi is sometimes, Jin pried as Yoongi kept looking distracted the entire trip. “Nothing, Hyung. Really.”

“Okay, it’s your turn.” Giving him his Nintendo, he eventually added “If this is about Hyuna, just let me know if you don’t want to work with her again. Maybe we can do something about it.” Yoongi let out a chuckle and drank a shot of soju. “Hyung it’s nothing really, it’s not about her either. The work is fine, we actually finished it sooner than I thought. You must have heard it already.” Jin eventually took the game from Yoongi replied, “I did, you guys were really professional about all this.”

“Of course.” Yoongi proudly replied as he sneaked a peek into his phone again. Unconsciously waiting for some call.

moodboard sr: x x x

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts scenarios #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fics #yoongi fluff #yoongi imagine #bts roommate au #roommate!yoongi #producer!yoongi

[reinerispretty]

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt1

hello! i’ve been writing this story over the past few days, just for myself, but i wanted to share it with you all since avatar is on the rise again :) this will be a multiple part series, and it will probably be pretty long, so enjoy!! 

part 2 (also linked at the end) here

“Those are my favorite, too,” A young voice said from behind her. She turned around very quickly and faced the reason why she was here: Prince Zuko.

She bowed quickly, incredibly surprised that the Fire Nation prince was speaking to her. “I wish I could’ve come in sooner. They’ve all been snatched up.”

Zuko looked around to make sure no one was listening, before leaning in closely to her. “They’re making more down in the kitchens, but people will be all over them as soon as they get up here.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Do you want to get some with me or not?”

---

(Y/N’s) servants had braided her hair too tightly. They were only following her mother’s orders, of course, but the headache that was forming at the roots of her hair only furthered her sour mood. 

The night was the tenth birthday of Prince Zuko and all respectable families within the Fire Nation were expected to attend. This meant that she could no longer sit in her room and eat Fire Flakes while listening to her mother complain about how the servants treated her oh so horribly. Instead, she was dressed in her nicest and most uncomfortable clothes to travel to the Fire Lord’s palace. 

She had never met any members of the royal family before, but her parents had many times. Her father was a very respected Fire Nation general and her mother came from a long line of wealthy Fire Nation aristocrats. (Y/N) had only just turned nine, and as her father put it, she was now old enough to attend royal events. She was not excited to attend Prince Zuko’s birthday celebration at all, but her friends were incredibly jealous of her. It had been the talk of their town for moths. She did not quite understand why, because to her it just sounded like a boring party full of the snooty friends of her parents. And she had never even met the prince before, so why was she being invited to his birthday celebration? It did not make much sense to (Y/N) why she was expected to attend. Regardless, the Fire Lord had invited her entire family to the celebration. It would be very dishonorable not to attend. 

“Try to put a smile on your face, (Y/N). You’ll get wrinkles from frowning so much.” Her mother was a beautiful woman and she remained that way because she rarely did anything. She did not want to go into the sun for fear of it damaging her skin. She made their servants do all of the work in her house because she feared that her hands would become calloused and rough. When she was not busy doing nothing, she chose to comment on every aspect of her daughter’s appearance. Her unruly hair, her complexion, and her rough hands from firebending were some of the many things of which her mother disapproved. 

(Y/N) frowned even harder and crossed her arms, slouching in her seat. She turned her head and looked out the window at the hundreds of houses their carriage passed by. They belonged to the regular people of the Fire Nation. The people who didn’t have to attend stupid parties. She wondered if she could ever have a normal life. One where she could run in the streets with her friends and not have to worry about what her punishment would be for returning home dirty, or where she could go to the market and buy a mango for herself and eat it right there on the spot.

Her family’s carriage arrived at the Fire Nation palace after sundown. Her mother exited the carriage first, the her father, and then herself, but not before she pulled out her braids. Her scalps felt instantly relieved as her fingers combed through her hair. The only part of the hairstyle that remained was the traditional Fire Nation topknot. She did not mind that as much as the braids. 

She hopped out and struggled to gather the train of her red dress. If she did not bundle it in her arms, her small feet would trip over the fabric. Her father looked at her disapprovingly and her mother held her tongue, but she could feel the literal fire behind her eyes. (Y/N) cast her own eyes downward as they walked into the palace.

The celebration was the grandest she had ever seen, her own friends’ birthdays paling in comparison. Food surrounded the outskirts of the ballroom, filling the air with the scent of cooked meat and hot pastries. The entertainment danced throughout the crowd, shooting fire from their hands, feet, and mouths in ways she had never seen in her own firebending training. But before they could join the rest of the crowd, they were led into the throne room. It was customary that the guests of the Fire Lord paid their respects before entering parties. It was something that she knew happened frequently, but she couldn’t help the pit of fear that was forming in her stomach. 

She had always thought that Fire Lord Azulon looked incredibly terrifying in the pictures from her schoolbooks, and her thoughts were only solidified as she entered the throne room. Azulon sat at his throne and while he was an incredibly old and frail-looking man, his demeanor was one that demanded respect. 

His son, Fire Prince Ozai, sat to his right. She had heard her father speak very highly of Ozai in the past. His face was contorted into a disapproving frown that scared her almost as much as Azulon’s face. To Ozai’s right sat the Fire Princess, Ursa. She sat with a small smile on her lips as (Y/N) and her parents entered the throne room. She had heard stories of Ursa’s kindness from the commoners that lived in her town. Ursa liked to go out and be amongst the people, much to the disapproval of her husband. 

Beside Ursa was Prince Zuko and Princess Azula. Zuko had just turned ten and Azula was eight, meaning that she was right between the two of them. The children looked very different from regular kids their age. They sat like royalty and both had the most bored expressions on their face. 

Both of her parents bowed to the ground and she quickly followed. To dishonor the Fire Lord and his family meant total disgrace of her own. She was only nine, but she had understand this lesson since she had been born. 

“General,” the Fire Lord said. Her father stood and bowed.

“Your majesty,” Her father spoke. “I bring my wife and my daughter, (Y/N).” They both stood. 

Azulon hummed. “Present the girl.” Her body became stiff with surprise. She looked up at both of her parents. Their faces were contorted in nervousness, even though they tried to hide it. They said no words of encouragement to her. They only parted to let her move closer to the Fire Lord. 

Her hands were shaking but she tried to hide them in the large sleeves of her dress. She bowed once more before speaking. “It is an honor to be in your presence, Fire Lord Azulon.” That is what her teachers had told her to say if she ever came in contact with a member of the royal family. 

“How old are you?” Questioned Ozai. The young girl gulped. Her throat was dry, and she had to swallow many times before she could speak. 

“Nine, sir.” Her voice was meek and she wondered if the royal family noticed it. 

“You have begun your firebending training?” Azulon questioned. 

“Yes, my lord.” 

“Show us.” Ozai demanded. His voice was oddly harsh for a man who spoke to a child. She looked back at her family, but their eyes remained focused on the royal family. 

Her dress was far too restricting to firebend in, but she knew she had to obey orders. She began demonstrating the lesson her and her teacher had spent months perfecting. It required many high kicks and flips, things that were almost impossible in her uncomfortable dress. 

She tried to imagine that she was back in the privacy of her own home, performing for her teacher. She was a kind woman who made firebending seem like a beautiful dance. (Y/N) hoped to be half as good as her master one day.

When she finished, she was breathing heavily and struggled to control herself. She closed her mouth tightly in hopes to regulate her breathing. 

“Dismissed,” was all the Fire Lord said. She bowed once again before practically running back to her parents. Once they had left the throne room, she demanded to know she had done. 

“Very impressive, dear,” Her father said, a smug smile on his face. She beamed up at him before turning to her mother. 

“All that bending isn’t good for your complexion.” Was all her mother said. 

“Why did the Fire Lord want to see my bending anyway?” 

“I’m sure he has heard remarkable things about your progress,” Her father said, before diving into a conversation with a ship captain. 

That made her feel good. Her father rarely expressed that he was proud of her, so she knew that was about the closest she would ever get. She didn’t try to talk to her mother, because she knew her disdain toward firebending. Her mother was a bender, but she saw it as a useless waste of time. 

Quickly, she separated from her family and made her way to the food tables. She hadn’t eaten before they arrived. She had been too busy being prepared by the servants. She stuffed food into her mouth as quickly as she could, but arrived at the fruit tarts a moment too late. Fire Nation fruit tarts were a local delicacy. If they hadn’t spent so much time in the throne room, she might have been able to eat a few before they completely disappeared. 

“Those are my favorite, too,” A young voice said from behind her. She turned around very quickly and faced the reason why she was here: Prince Zuko. 

She bowed quickly, incredibly surprised that the Fire Nation prince was speaking to her. “I wish I could’ve come in sooner. They’ve all been snatched up.” 

Zuko looked around to make sure no one was listening, before leaning in closely to her. “They’re making more down in the kitchens, but people will be all over them as soon as they get up here.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” 

“Do you want to get some with me or not?” She pursed her lips and crossed her arms. 

“That depends. Are we gonna get in trouble?” Zuko laughed.

“Only if we get caught!” She laughed with him before following him out of the ballroom. He led her down a long and dark hallway that was only lit with torches. Tapestries lined the hallway and depicted images of Fire Lords in the past. She stopped at an image of Sozin, who stared down at her disapprovingly. She knew now, where Azulon and Ozai had gotten it from. 

“That’s my great-grandfather,” Zuko said off-handedly. “Are you coming or not?” She picked up her pace to catch up to him.

“Has anyone ever told you that your family can be really scary?” Zuko simply shrugged. She scoured her mind to find some talking points to share with the young prince. Their lives were so incredibly different. Would they ever be able to find common ground? “So, this whole celebration is for you and you’d rather be sneaking off to the kitchens to get fruit tarts?” Zuko sighed. 

“It’s a bunch of people I don’t know anyway. And I was said that I missed the fruit tarts and I saw you were sad about the fruit tarts, so I figured it would be better if both of us got in trouble rather than just one of us.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” They rounded the corner in silence.

“I’m (Y/N), by the way,” She said quietly.

“I know. I was in the throne room earlier.” He looked at her sideways. “Your firebending is pretty good.” 

“Thanks! I can teach you, if you want.” 

“Teach me? I have some of the best firebending teachers in the nation! Why would I want you to teach me?” 

“It’s called a joke.” 

“Oh. Sorry, I guess.” 

They had reached the kitchens. The servants inside bounced around the room, using their firebending to cook the copious amounts of food that the guests upstairs requested. She thought back to the parties that her own family had hosted. Their kitchens had never been this busy. 

The two children spotted the fruit tarts at the same time. They sat on a platter, stacked elegantly atop each other. She turned to Zuko. 

“You have to get them.” 

“Why me?” 

“You’re royalty! None of the servants are allowed to get mad at you.” She shoved him forward into the kitchens, mouthing, “Go!” At him. Zuko crept across the kitchen, trying his best to not be noticed by any of the cooks. Quickly, he snatched the platter of fruit tarts and ran back to her. 

“Hey! Get back here!” A cook with a gruff voice shouted after them. They ran away quickly and again, Zuko led her through the halls of the palace. He led her outside to a pond with turtle ducks swimming across it. They sat underneath the tree to catch their breath and immediately started eating. The fruit tarts had cooled since the run, but they heated them back up with firebending.

“What are you two doing?” The children turned to see Azula stalking toward them. 

“Nothing,” Zuko said defensively, his mouth full of fruit tarts. Azula rolled her eyes.

“Tell me now or I’m telling Father.” 

“We’re eating fruit tarts,” (Y/N) explained. “Would you like some?” She extended the platter to Azula. The young girl eyed her warily before taking one. 

“You were in the throne room earlier.” 

“I was. Along with my parents. Firebending in a dress isn’t really easy.” 

“I can do it just fine,” Azula scoffed, turning her nose up at her. The girl smiled awkwardly. 

“Of course you can, princess. I’m sure you’re one of the best firebenders in the nation.” 

“Did you steal these from our kitchens?”

“She didn’t steal anything, Azula,” Zuko groaned. “I took them from the kitchens. What’s the big deal? They can always make more.” 

Azula opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the voice of her mother. 

“And what are you all doing?” Ursa walked to the edge of the pond. Again, she stood and scrambled to bow to royalty, but she waved her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N). I am Ursa, Zuko and Azula’s mother.” 

“And soon to be Queen of the Fire Nation,” Azula said proudly, stealing another fruit tart. 

“Zuko, I see you raided the kitchens again,” Ursa scolded. “What have I told you about doing that?” 

“That I shouldn’t...” 

“If I may, your highness,” (Y/N) cut in. “I am partially the reason why Prince Zuko stole the fruit tarts...the party was all out, you see, and he saw how sad I was, and--” 

“It’s quite alright, dear. It’s nice to know that Zuko was so kind to you.” 

She smiled up at the queen, who took a seat beside the children and popped a fruit tart into her own mouth. “If we don’t hurry and eat these,” Ursa said, “The whole party will start wondering where we are.” 

read part 2!

#atla #zuko x reader #sokka x reader #aang x reader #fire nation #katara #toph #aang #zuko #sokka #writing #fanfiction #atla zuko

[costellos]

❥ ┋ ❝ nanami & where he’d take you on your first date together!

@densecloud​​ said: aaaa new ask game!!! can i request for 'court' & nanami? thank you so much toya!! ٩(♡ε♡ )۶

a/n: YES U CAN LESLIE!!! I had so much fun thinking of all the dates Nanamin would take you that I had a hard time narrowing down one... so I wrote for all of them! I think it gives a neat, interactive twist to your original request. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it. <33

tw: none.

ask game: 💌 15 valentine’s day questions (closed!)

disclaimer: I’m anime-only outside of the prequel, so apologies if my character interpretations aren’t accurate.

Nanami is a planner. he doesn’t like going about things on a whim. that applies for work, his days off, and most notably, his first date with you. 

that isn’t to say he wouldn’t let you plan the date. no, Nanami just gets a certain pride taking you out. after all, he wouldn’t be courting you unless he had some sort of background with you. in this case, being jujutsu sorcerers has made you uncomfortably close. that just comes with working in a profession with so few colleagues. and with it being a horribly draining job, you’ve seen each other at your best and worse.

hence, Nanami lets you pick what kind of vibe you’d like for the date. he’d like to think he knows you well enough to plan something himself. but letting you have some agency allows him to gauge what to do. plus, the fact you’re not a Tokyo native lets him narrow down where in the city would be the best place to take you.

if you tell him you want something laidback, Nanami interprets that as a typical, casual date. nothing too strenuous. that doesn’t mean they have to be boring, though. he takes you to a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop in Musashino. it’s tucked away in some alley, and despite its sketchy location, the interior is surprisingly cozy. locals chat quietly while university students scribble notes in tattered workbooks. it isn’t much, you’ll admit. it’s not much different from any other coffee shop. but the moment your mocha hits your tongue, you immediately understand why Nanami likes this place so much. it’s sweet without being overly sweet, chocolately and warm. like a hug from your best friend: familiar and comforting. Nanami tells you how he met Gojo while you’re here. it’s casual conversation. you learn that despite their contrasting personalities, there are few people that Nanami trusts more. maybe one day he’ll trust you as much as he does your shared colleague. it’s a thought that makes your heart as warm as your mocha does for your hands. (and while you may not know it now, Nanami already trusts you with everything.) you find yourselves at Inokashira Park shortly afterwards. it’s a surprisingly warm day in March -- why not enjoy the weather while you can? he comments on the history about the park. something about how it was privately owned by the emperor until the twentieth century. when you ask when the cherry blossoms will bloom, he tells you not until the end of March. you click your tongue. “hm. guess we’ll have to plan another date for then, huh?” “...I suppose we do.” he wouldn’t admit how warm his ears felt in that moment.

if you tell him you want something fun, Nanami will take you to the Edo-Tokyo Museum. he honestly doesn’t know how you’ve lived in the city for this long without visiting it yet. there’s something exciting about it, though; to be the person you share this experience with. he’s thankful for that much. to say the museum is huge would be an understatement. the building is massive. there are tons of exhibits to explore and even more sections to learn from. it’s... well... it’s a little overwhelming. yet Nanami is patient with exploring the whole thing. he doesn’t yank you from display to display. he lets you take it at your own pace, following you wherever you want to go, adding his own quips of information he’d learned from the several field trips he’s taken here as a child. after all, the museum is a staple. it’s one of his favorite places in the city. that’s half of the reason why he brought you here. the other half is because he loves that look of bewilderment you get on your face. the museum features an interactive exhibit of Old Tokyo, with employees strolling the streets in traditional garb. they chat with visitors and offer small gifts, and boy. your face just lights up every time they give you some dumb knick knack. when you smile at him, showing him the pencil you got labeled EDO-TOKYO MUSEUM in red lettering, he can’t help but feel the corners of his mouth twitch just the slightest bit upwards, too. such a small thing to be excited about. that’s why he’s so enamored by you, though. he feels a sense of pride when you ask if he can bring you back to the museum sometime soon. he just guides you by the small of your back as you exit the front doors, his lips with another hint of a smile, before saying, “there are plenty of other places we can visit together. let’s plan for it.”

if you tell him you want something different, Nanami finds himself stumped. there are lots of “different” places in Tokyo. Asakusa has the traditional temples, Harajuku has the wild street fashion, and Roppongi has the wilder night life. “something different” doesn’t give Nanami a lot to go off of. but he’ll digress. none of those places would be appropriate for a first date. so he opts for a great hot pot restaurant in Shibuya. Shibuya itself is a great date location. it’s what most foreigners think when they hear “Tokyo.” bright lights, edgy streetwear, huge crowds of people -- all mushed together in one district. it makes your head spin as he guides you through the streets. but where he takes you takes the best parts of Shibuya and puts it in one, little eatery. string lights dangle across the ceiling, twinkling as if it it was the night sky. it’s such a nice contrast from the neon lights outside. teenagers in streetwear morph into dapper, young professionals laughing amongst themselves. and while it’s still a little cramped, it’s not the kind that makes you overwhelmed. it’s cozy. people maintain their space. the hot pot itself is delicious. Nanami orders a little of everything -- some seafood, some fancy meats, a variety of vegetables, and two noodle options -- and God. the moment you take your food from that broth and put it in your damn mouth? ugh. heaven. it’s so savory, perfectly seasoned and just the right texture. the saltiness from the broth brings all the right flavors out of your food. you might have burned your tongue but it’s so good you don’t even care. Nanami laughs when he sees your eyes widen. he carries the conversation while you stuff yourself with noodles and other foods. just some stories about his life before sorcery, about his time as a stockbroker and how much he hated it. although sorcerery isn’t much better, he can at least help the people around him. it’s not much, but it’s better than helping some rich asshole get richer. “you know,” you tell him in between bites, “you’re a better person than you give yourself credit for.” “maybe,” he responds. “or maybe it’s just basic human decency.” he didn’t mean it to come out that harsh. and judging by your expression, you don’t take offense to it. or maybe you just didn’t notice. either way, he hopes you also don’t notice how quickly he turns away. there are much less obvious ways to hide his blush, he can acknowledge that. yet in this moment, all he can think of is all the goddamn hoops you put his mind through.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #nanami kento #jjk x reader #nanami kento x reader #headcanons #scenario #densecloud #cut for length bc this bad boy got LOONNNGG #also can u tell that the quality gets better the more I wrote.... #hhh I'm sorry friends who just want a laidback date w Nanamin

[keichanz]

Safe

i realize that moroha doesn't have a human night/period of weakness or whatever. for the sake of this oneshot, let's pretend she does.

written for my dear friend @mamabearcat ​ ❤️❤️❤️i know it's a rough day for you and i hope this brings a smile to your face. love you!

Read on AO3

@lavendertwilight89 @born-for-eachother @mandirox89 @arcprz @bluejay785 @malditamigs @xfangheartx @bluehawaiicat @zelink-inukag @clearwillow @wenchster @anabananaxq @superpixie42 @midnightsilver16830 @heathersmusings @theinuyashareader @danycontreras90 @liz8080 @blairex @lordofthechips @itzatakahashi @sailorbabydoll92 @raisinraven @sticky-llama-perfection @dangerouspompadour @digital-art-monster @joaniemae @boostyourmind-blog @anxietyaardvark @simply-zerah @nsr0716 @caribmiko @witchygirl99 @mamabearcat @redflamesofpassion @tuxedochevaleresse @umacaking @hnn-wnchstr @juliatheanimelover7 @lemonlushff @eringobroke @youarenotmyhomelandanymore @hikaruwrites @horriblehowl @lady-dark-69 @sssuperbartola @eternalnight8806-3 @morganashimi83 @shnuggletea @pinkpigeonstudio @memusicmuse @cyncyn981 @yurawiththegoodhair @kagometaishostory @chickpow @ladyphoenix0711 @the-rebel-alchemist @nartista @soliska @cammysansstuff @karina-inuphantom

“Mama?” 

“Hm?”

Pausing in the task of cutting up the behemoth fish gifted to her courtesy of the village headman for the successful delivery of his second grandchild she’d overseen just that afternoon, Kagome cast a brief glance at the four-year-old sitting by the fire before continuing to prepare that night’s dinner. And several other dinners thereafter. 

“What is it, baby?” she asked, a little distracted as she pushed aside one section of freshly chopped up meat and started on the next as a small frown furrowed her brow. The thing really was huge. Where the hell had Kinso gotten it? Had to be some kind of mutant from freakin’ outer space or something...

“Where’s Papa?”

Kagome’s thoughts were immediately derailed from mutant alien fish at her daughter’s question and for the second time her hands stilled what they were doing. The softness of her tone coupled with a hint of something Kagome couldn’t quite place prompted her to lay down the knife and give the child her full attention, grabbing a damp rag to wipe her hands with as she turned around with a gentle smile.

Sitting on the floor with her knees to her chest, surrounded by toys both gifted by Shippou and handmade by her father, Moroha’s gaze was fixed on the fire as she idly poked at it with a stick. When she noticed her mother’s gaze on her, however, she lifted her head and turned her attention to the older woman, wide eyes meeting identical brown. 

Kagome resisted the urge to frown as she answered, “Papa’s away with Uncle Miroku getting rid of some bad youkai that are causing problems in another village, sweetheart. They left early this morning.” Her smile widened and she tilted her head. “Did you forget because you were still half-asleep when he said goodbye?”

Moroha wrinkled her nose and stared back into the fire. “I remember,” she murmured with a slight pout. “I just...thought he’d be back by now.”

Realization dawned. Ahh, so that’s where this was coming from. Kagome’s expression softened in understanding and she moved forward to kneel down and tenderly sweep her daughter’s hair away from her eyes. Moroha looked up at her again, dark eyes wide and pleading for something Kagome was unable to provide.

“Well,” Kagome started softly, gathering her words carefully. “Sometimes these trips can take a long time, or even longer than what was originally planned. Remember that time we went to visit Kouga and his sons, but we arrived a day late because of that unexpected snow storm?”

Moroha blinked and then nodded.

“It’s the same thing,” she continued. “Maybe something unexpected happened that’s making Papa be a little later than normal. You never know.” 

The four-year-old digested that in silence and then gave a single nod of acceptance a minute later. She still looked troubled, though, and Kagome smiled a little sadly as she ran a hand through her daughter’s hair.

“Are you missing Papa?” she asked, her voice soft. 

Biting her lip, Moroha hesitated before giving another short nod. It was obvious she was trying not to cry and Kagome’s smile widened just a little. Her tiny tough girl, wanting to be just like her papa. 

“I miss him, too,” Kagome revealed and tucked a strand of ebony hair behind her daughter’s small ear. “I miss him every time he has to leave, but you know what?” She waited until Moroha blinked up at her in silent inquiry before assuring, “I bet he’s on his way home right now. He knows what tonight is, baby, and we both know that he’ll do anything in his power to make it in time. He hasn’t missed a single one yet; I doubt today will be the time he does.”

She smoothed back Moroha’s bangs and smiled again, hopping to assuage her lingering doubts, but when there was no change in Moroha’s expression, Kagome was starting to wonder if this went a little deeper than she’d originally thought. Her smile dimmed and her brow furrowed with concern as her eyes roved her cherubic face.

“Moroha? What’s wrong, sweetie?” Kagome settled down beside her and dropped her hand to rub up and down her back. 

Moroha squirmed a bit, worried her bottom lip, and when she lifted her head once again to meet her gaze, Kagome abruptly sucked in a sharp breath at the look on her daughter’s face. There was genuine worry etched clearly on those dear features, her little brow furrowed as she continued to bite down on her lip. But what truly broke her heart was the honest to god fear that swam in those beloved eyes, so like her own, and Kagome’s chest constricted.

If she hadn’t already accurately guessed the true reason for her upset, Moroha’s next words solidified her suspicions.

“If Papa’s not here,” her little girl began and the audible tremble in her voice had a very real ache developing in Kagome’s chest. “T-then who’s gonna protect me? It’s not safe without Papa here...right?”

With every word that Moroha said, the knife dug a little deeper into her heart and Kagome felt the burn of tears prickling the back of her eyes. Her throat suddenly felt tight and she swallowed several times to dislodge the lump that had formed there, but to no avail. God, their little girl really thought she wasn’t safe without her father here to defend them, and while Kagome should have felt a little offended and insulted that she apparently couldn't rely on her mother to protect her, she also understood where she was coming from. Out of the two of them, Inuyasha was obviously the strongest and Moroha had witnessed him on numerous occasions effortlessly dispatching some rogue youkai that had the balls big enough to enter the village, or when they were traveling and they were unexpectedly attacked. Kagome herself contributed with arrows if necessary, but tasked with keeping their daughter safe from harm, she hardly assisted most of the time and let her more than capable husband deal with the threat himself. 

So it stood to reason at her young age Moroha would believe if her strong papa wasn’t around to protect her, she wasn’t safe. So no, Kagome didn't fault her one bit. If anything she blamed herself for allowing her to think she wasn’t safe with her own mother, but she sought to rectify that right now. 

“Oh, Moroha,” Kagome murmured and swallowed again as she reached for her daughter and pulled her into her lap. “Oh, baby, no. No, don’t ever think that you’re not safe, okay? Mama will protect you, no matter what.”

Small hands fisted in her robes as Moroha curled herself up against her with a quiet sniffle. Kagome held her close, crossing her legs and settling her daughter into the cradle of them as she gently rocked her, pressing her face into her hair and kissing her head.

“Sweetheart,” Kagome began and pulled back enough to gently cup Moroha’s face in her hands, urging her gaze to meet her own. Her heart nearly broke at the tear tracks on her cheeks and tenderly Kagome wiped them away with her thumbs as she offered a trembling but reassuring smile. 

“Moroha, just because your father’s not here doesn’t mean that you’re not safe, okay? I’m here, and I promise I will always protect you. I’ll never let anything happen to you, ever. And you have Aunt Sango, Uncle Miroku, Kohaku, and even Grandma Kaede. They all love you just as much as your father and I and I know they would protect you too, if something were to happen when your father isn’t here. So don’t ever doubt that you’re not safe, okay, my love? I’ll protect you. I promise.”

She sealed her promise with a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, as much an act of comfort as it was to hide her cracking facade. Kagome closed her eyes and took several deep breaths to stave off the tears she could feel building behind her eyes, her arms tightening around her precious little girl.  

“Promise?” Moroha whispered a minute later and Kagome’s heart constricted again. 

“I promise,” Kagome repeated and rained kisses upon her daughter’s face until soft, watery giggles reached her ears. Smiling in relief, Kagome leaned back and smoothed a wayward strand of raven hair away from Moroha’s face. 

“Do you understand?” Kagome gently pressed, needing to hear her say it. “You’re always safe here, Moroha. No matter what. Okay?”

Sniffling once, Moroha looked up at her with great brown eyes, nodded, and Kagome was gratified to see that the fear and worry had left her face. She heaved a mental sigh of relief and couldn't stop herself from pressing one last kiss to her forehead.

“Okay, Mama,” the quarter-youkai said. “I understand.” She paused. “Does that mean Papa will be back soon?”

Kagome could have laughed. “I’m sure Papa will be back before you know it,” she assured and tapped her daughter’s nose. She was rewarded with another giggle. “Now there’s still a couple hours until dinner time, so why don’t you go outside and find the twins to play? They were here looking for you earlier when you were taking a nap.”

Finally, finally her little girl gifted her with a brilliant smile and several enthusiastic nods of her head. “Okay!” 

Hopping to her feet, Moroha placed a wet kiss on her mother’s cheek before bounding out of their home, shouting for Kin’u and Gyokuto at the top of her lungs. 

Blowing out a breath, Kagome slumped back onto her hands and let her head fall back onto her shoulders as she closed her eyes now that that crisis was averted. 

“Alright, dogboy,” Kagome muttered a minute later as she climbed to her feet. “You’d better be on your way here right this second or so help me god…”

Sighing, Kagome wrinkled her nose, shook her head, and got back to cutting up the gargantuan fish for that night’s dinner, however this time her thoughts centered around her hanyou husband and their daughter rather than alien fish from outer space.

Hours later, just before sunset, Kagome was outside hanging up laundry on the clothes line she’d had Inuyasha construct for her and there was still no sign of said hanyou anywhere. Of course it wasn’t particularly unusual for him to be so late, but she was more worried about Moroha when she’d come inside for dinner and discover that her father still had not returned. 

With a frown and unable to shake off the anxious feeling that had taken root in her gut, Kagome pinned one of Moroha’s tiny kosodes to the line and worried her bottom lip as she straightened out the fabric. She knew her husband, knew he’d made a silent vow to himself to always be here during this particular night because he never wanted his daughter to feel as he had in his own youth. She was positive he’d do everything in his power to make it in time, just as she’d claimed to Moroha hours earlier, so she refused to entertain the thought that he was lying in a ditch somewhere, bleeding and unconscious and helpless--

“When I get my hands on you dogboy…” Kagome muttered darkly to herself as she just a little viciously tossed one said dogboy’s kosodes onto the line.

“Sounds promising,” a familiar voice rumbled in her ear as strong arms circled her waist from behind and Kagome gasped. 

Dropping the pair of hakama in her hand, Kagome spun around and was greeted with the sight of warm amber eyes and a fanged grin. Momentarily forgetting her ire toward her husband, Kagome beamed and threw her arms around his neck to pull him into a long welcome-home kiss that he eagerly reciprocated. 

“Mmm,” Inuyasha hummed against her lips and stole another kiss. “Miss me, wench?”

“Hmm…” Nuzzling his nose with hers, Kagome smiled and dug her fingers into his hair to cup the back of his neck. “Maybe. You had me worried for a minute there, dogboy. You’re late.”

“Mm.” Inuyasha grunted and buried his face in his wife’s neck, inhaling her scent and holding her for a minute, relishing the feel of her in his arms. Granted, it had only been just that morning when he left his family, but he hated being apart from them for any stretch of time. 

Happy to have her beloved hanyou home, safe and in one piece, Kagome sighed and simply held her husband, letting him breath her in, relax, and wind down after what she assumed was a successful slaying mission and the long journey home. She smiled; she knew he’d make it.

Even if he was cutting it a little close this time and giving her premature gray hairs.

“What happened?” she questioned after another minute or so, knowing he had to have some explanation as to why he got back so late.

Heaving a sigh, Inuyasha reluctantly pulled away but kept his arms wrapped loosely around her waist. “It was definitely unexpected. The ‘youkai’ that was terrorizing the village actually turned out to be a forest deity trapped in a curse and after finding this out, me and the monk had to travel all over hell just to find out what happened. Long story short, we talked to about twenty different people to find out how to break it, used a boat to get to some small ass island in the middle of nowhere, uncovered a buried artifact, and smashed it to bits.”

Kagome stared up at him with wide eyes, not expecting such a turn of events. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“Was the deity freed?”

He shrugged. “Assume so. When we got back to the village to collect the payment - the monk’s insistence, not mine - it was nowhere to be seen, and a few miles away there was a large area with blown back trees and scorched earth.”

Shaking her head, Kagome nonetheless accepted the explanation and tipped him a smile, lifting a hand to seize a furry ear and rub the soft flesh. She was immediately rewarded with a low rumble of approval and her smile widened.

“Well, I’m just glad you’re home,” she said and Inuyasha gave her one of his rare smiles, the one he reserved only for her and his daughter. And speaking of…

“She missed you,” Kagome murmured. Then she paused, and Inuyasha must have seen something in her expression because he frowned slightly.

“What happened?” he prodded and Kagome sighed before giving him a condensed version of what had happened earlier.

Predictably Inuyasha did not react well to the news, his ears flattening into his hair and the guilt was writ clear as day on his face. He grimaced and Kagome smiled a little wryly as she switched to his other ear, seeking to comfort him. 

“Stop,” she said before his thoughts could get away from him and was expecting the scowl that crossed his features. She shook her head. “You’re here now. You didn’t break your promise and that’s what matters.”

As she continued to massage his ear, Inuyasha’s scowl gradually lessened until he was glaring a tad mulishly at his wife and her cheeky grin told him she knew exactly what she was doing.

“I hate it when you do that,” he grumbled and then sighed, his expression relaxing. 

“No you don’t,” Kagome chirped and Inuyasha snorted. Laughing softly, she released his ear and reluctantly stepped out of his embrace. 

“She outback?” he asked as he let his arms drop to his sides, his nose confirming what he'd just asked seconds before his wife answered him.

“Last I checked on her,” Kagome replied and stooped to pick up the hakama she’d dropped. 

Inuyasha grunted his acknowledgment then caught her chin to pull her into one last lingering kiss. And another. And another. Until finally Kagome giggled and had to push him away and he brushed by her with a low chuckle. 

Walking around their home toward what could be considered a backyard of sorts, Inuyasha found his daughter as he knew he would, kneeling barefoot in the dirt and constructing...something out of rocks, sticks, and what looked like several of Sango’s missing dishware. 

He withheld a snort of amusement and crossed his arms as he leaned against their hut, a smile lifting the corners of his lips despite himself. His child was a little thief and he wasn’t sure if he should be proud of her apparent stealth or disappointed at her...well, thievery. 

Oblivious to her father’s presence behind her - unsurprising given the time of day - Moroha continued to build whatever it was she was making, humming quietly to herself as she stacked the clay bowls, now covered in dirt, on top of the rocks and filled them with pebbles. She muttered something about bugs having somewhere to sleep and now Inuyasha wondered if he should be worried instead of proud or disappointed. 

He was content to watch her for another few minutes as the sun sank lower into the sky until finally he decided to make his presence known.

“Whatcha buildin’ there, kiddo?”

Gasping, Moroha shot to her feet and spun around so fast she knocked down her rock, bowl, and stock formation but she hardly noticed. Spotting the figure clad in red cleaning casually against the wall of their home, grinning at her with warm honey eyes, the quarter-youkai released a squeal of pure delight and darted towards him with a mile-wide smile spreading across her face.

“Papa!” she shrieked and Inuyasha knelt down just in time to catch her in his arms as she barreled into them.

Holding her tight against him, Inuyasha stood with her in his arms and buried his nose in her hair, breathing in his little girl’s scent and letting it wash away the last of the tension that seized his muscles. Kagome’s soothing scent was only half of what he needed; his Moroha completed him in ways he hadn't even known he needed until she was born.

“I missed you,” Moroha murmured into his shoulder, her small arms locked tight around his neck and Inuyasha closed his eyes as he tightened his arms around her. 

“Missed you too, babygirl,” he rumbled and kissed her temple. “Sorry I’m late. Forgive me?”

She nodded against his shoulder, refusing to relinquish her hold or pull away even an inch. 

“I’ll always be here to protect you, Moroha,” Inuyasha vowed, his voice a low, earnest rumble. “No matter what, I’ll keep you and your mom safe. Now I need you to do something for me, okay?”

Moroha shifted against him and turned her head so she could peer up at his face with wide eyes, dark and beautiful just like her mother’s. She nodded once, always happy to do something for her papa whenever he asked.

Inuyasha nodded in approval. “If there ever comes a time that I’m not here and the village is in danger, I need you to trust your mom to keep you safe. She’ll do anything to protect you, just like I will, so you never have to worry about not being safe. Okay? Can you do that for me?”

His daughter blinked up at him, her eyes wide and slightly awed, but then her little face grew solemn and she nodded again, lifting a wee hand to gently pat his cheek.

“Okay, Papa,” Moroha agreed and he caught her small hand in his own. “I can do that. I know Mama will protect me, just like you do, and Aunt Sango, and Uncle Miroku, and Kohaku, and Gramma Kaede.”

Inuyasha smiled down at his little girl and pressed a kiss to her hand. “That’s my girl,” he murmured and Moroha gifted him with a brilliant smile, happy that she made her papa happy. 

“Alright,” he said, sniffing the air once, twice. “I think your mama’s got dinner ready, so how about we go inside and get some grub? Dunno about you, but I’m starving.” 

He tried to eat her hand to prove just how starving he was and Moroha’s gleeful laughter echoed into the night as the sun finally sank below the horizon.

Kagome looked up as her husband walked into their home with their fully human child in his arms and she smiled at them both before walking over to smother her daughter in kisses just to hear her laugh. Inuyasha took the opportunity to steal another kiss of his own from his wife before all three of them settled down by the fire to eat the seasoned fish and rice and the parents were content to listen to their daughter fabricate a story about the humongous fish the headman had given them.

Later, dinner put away, the fire crackling softly below a gently bubbling kettle for tea, Inuyasha sat against the wall with his daughter fast asleep in his arms and wrapped securely in his suikan. The only noticeable difference of the loss of her youkai blood was the lack of claws and fangs, but otherwise she looked completely the same. 

Clawed fingers tenderly brushed away tendrils of onyx hair as golden eyes stared down at the slumbering child, wondering, soft, the love he felt for her so obvious it nearly put Kagome in tears. She didn’t bother offering to put her to bed; if he’d wanted, Inuyasha could have done that himself so she knew he was content to sit there holding their sleeping daughter and honestly, she couldn't blame him. Kagome loved holding her, too, but watching her husband as he caressed their daughter’s face, brushing back her hair, staring so lovingly at her as she slept on...it was truly an experience and she had to wonder if Inuyasha felt similarly when watching her hold their daughter. 

Abandoning the cup of tea she was in the middle of making, Kagome crawled over to them and cozied up against her husband’s side. Inuyasha shifted and tugged her closer with an arm around her shoulders, dropping a kiss to her head as Kagome let it rest on his shoulder with a content sigh. 

Together they watched the steady rise and fall of Moroha’s chest, listened to her even breathing, reveled in the powerful, overwhelming love they had for her and for each other as they sat in their home, warm, happy, and most importantly, safe. 

#safe #inukag #inukag fanfiction #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha #kagome #moroha #oneshot #keizfanfiction

[silentprincess17]

A Proposal Gone Awry

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary: Link has been touring the breadth and width of Hyrule to clear out the remaining monster camps, and soon enough, he reaches Zora’s Domain. Mipha asks him to wait before he heads back to the castle, which he was intending on doing... but some mischievous children may have other plans.

Thank you to @braidy-maidy, @zeldaelmo and @zeldadiarist for your help betaing!

Relationships: Link/Zelda Link/Mipha- Onesided Link & The Zora Children Mipha & Revali (Legend of Zelda)

Contains spoilers for AOC. This is my take on the Heart's Escort Mission- specifically what you get at the end of that.Basically- I turn my angst gun on another character whoopsie but I don't leave Mipha high and dry I promise!

Tags: Unrequited Love, Heartbreak, Healing, Emotional angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending

Link had just got back from the battlefield, and he’d left Mipha there, albeit reluctantly. She insisted she would be the one to check over the Zora troops, alone, “I’ll be able to heal them as I go along Link. Why don’t you go back to the Domain and rest whilst I finish up? You’re not wounded, are you?” He replied in the negative, or well, he’d shaken his head anyway. He’d remained with her still, but she’d sort of stammered for a while, something about final preparations, and it was okay for him to leave. Link wasn’t entirely sure why she didn’t want him to stay, but he hadn’t heard her clearly through what seemed to be perpetual rain on Ploymus mountain, and Mipha had become particularly jumpy around him lately, so he opted to leave her be. He just assumed she meant preparations for the healing she was going to do- and maybe that was a private thing? Or maybe she wanted to ask him to train at some point and it was preparations for that? Not that there was much need for it anymore, with the Calamity destroyed and sealed away, but he missed his childhood friend and would like to help her if she wanted it. Just before he left, she’d clutched his arm, and had asked if he could wait until dinner for her because she wanted to tell him something. He saw no reason to decline, so he’d given her a slight nod and then moved to leave.

As he meandered back through the twisting pathways, he realised that it wasn’t that late, but for some inexplicable reason he felt tired. Sunset had just fallen over the Domain, and now the luminous stones started to glow and fluoresce. It truly was a beautiful place, although… he wasn’t a huge fan of the way the water flowing the walkways had started to creep through his metal boots. He sighed, it had been a spur of the moment decision to wear his Soldier’s Armour, he had put his Champion’s Tunic through the wash multiple times since the Calamity fight and it was still drying in his Guard’s Chamber. He felt strangely bare without it, and he certainly missed the increased perception he had whilst wearing it. And, well, for other, uh, sentimental reasons. No, not because the Princess had made it for him. No. Not at all. He was pulled from his thoughts when his foot squelched uncomfortably in his now soaked socks into the metal plate of his boot. The flow of water had never been a problem as a child because he could run barefoot everywhere and no one would care, but now as the Hero it wouldn’t be seen as proper. He would have to polish them later, to avoid rust forming. And change his socks.

He slowly exhaled, it had been a long week of fighting off the remaining hordes of monsters from Calamity Ganon’s revival, today being the day that he had decided to help clear out the remnants in Zora’s Domain. It was funny, because before he wouldn’t have seen a weeklong absence from the Castle as a bad thing, but now… He blushed slightly, before shaking his head. He still had to go clean up, and then eat dinner, because by the Goddesses he was starving, and then meet Mipha… And perhaps he’d teleport back to the Central Tower and then to the Castle. Just to see her again. He missed being by her side, and it left him restless to know he wasn’t protecting her. Somehow over the course of their journey together those feelings of friendship and wanting to protect her had slowly morphed into something else. Or perhaps, he reflected, his reasoning for wanting to do those things had changed. But he could start to smell the aroma of freshly made hasty meat skewers made using the abundance of fleet lotus seeds around the Domain and Link’s stomach audibly grumbled. Ah, food was close, so he hurried the last few steps to reach the Dining Hall.

Just as he was about to go inside, four small bodies ploughed into him, and he let out a startled gasp. They tugged at his boots, and he only belatedly realised it was the members of The Big Bad Bazz Brigade. Bazz was at the forefront with the sword Link had gifted him when they were children proudly strapped to his back. The sword was barely off the ground, though, with the tip jutting into the passageway with every jump he made.

“LINK!” Bazz shouted, a huge smile plastered across his face.

“Hey Link!” Rivan jostled with Bazz and they flailed their arms at each other, with both of them gripping one of his legs. Link looked down and wasn’t sure what to do exactly. Did he try to separate them? Or peel them off him? He couldn’t help but smile at their antics though.

“You’re coming down to our Domain an awful lot recently, aren’t you?” Gaddison, The Heroine, had both hands on her hips but then moved to pull the two squabbling friends off his poor boots. He hadn’t realised how heavy Zoran children were.

Behind them shyly stood Sidon, he was smaller than all of them, and he gripped his Lightscale Trident with shaking hands.

Link nodded at Gaddison, pointed back towards the mountain where the monsters had been. She nodded sagely, understanding what he meant. Link moved to pick up Sidon, he hadn’t been allowed to join Bazz’s group because he was too young, but he still followed them everywhere. Actually, he tried so hard to prove his worth to be allowed in, he’d even climbed Ploymus mountain to face the Lynel there in an effort to prove his courage. Link found him to be adorable, Sidon reminded him of what he was like at that age, keen to please and prove he was capable, but too reckless for his own good. Sidon smiled his trademark smile and wrapped both arms around Link’s neck. Link smiled; aw he was so cute.

“Hey Link! When will you go swimming up the waterfall with us? You’re older now right, do you have your scales yet?” Rivan asked.

He shook his head. He didn’t have scales, and he wouldn’t ever get them because he wasn’t Zoran.

“HE’S A HYLIAN you ninny! He’s not a Zora! He won’t ever get scales like we will!” Ah Gaddison, ever the voice of reason in the group of rowdy boys. She mothered them all, he could remember that from when he used to play at the Domain, and she sprouted logic that the Zora-equivalent of a ten-year-old Hylian probably shouldn’t have, but who was he to judge.

Rivan looked traumatised. “So, we can never swim up the waterfall with Link then?”

“NO.” She paused, “Well, unless someone gives him armour with their scale on it.”

Bazz shoved his shoulder into hers, “Why don’t you do it then?”

She shoved him back, doubly hard, so much so that he ended up slipping in the water and skidding onto his bum. Link suppressed a bout of laughter at his enraged face. “Do I look like I have a White Scale yet Bazz? I can’t give him one if I don’t have one myself!” She bent down and whacked his arm again. “AND ANYWAY, did you not listen to the history lessons we’ve had- you only give your scale to the person you want to marry, basically as an engagement present.” She fluffed her fins around, “And I guess by association love.” She shuddered, “What a disgusting concept. Imagine loving a boy. How desperate do you have to be?”

Link suddenly felt ridiculously embarrassed. He tried going to the shop on the way here, but they didn’t sell the actual chest plate part of the Zora armour and had looked at him strangely when he’d showed them the Greaves and Helm he already had and pointed at his chest. Then again, maybe he should have actually voiced it. He found it bizarre, considering all the other races seemed fine with selling their complete armour sets. He chalked it off as just a Zora thing. But now he knew better. Farore, he had been such an idiot. How had he apparently missed this piece of information? He hadn’t known the Zora Armour was only given as an engagement gift! And to someone you loved no less. No wonder the staff in the shop had looked at him as if he had grown an extra head!

Bazz looked sheepish, scratching the back of his head. “Well, that was the girl side of things, Heroine.”

Rivan looked confused, “Then you don’t love Link?”

Gaddison blushed bright red, “NOT IN THAT WAY! And I’m only 52! That’s not appropriate at all!” She punched them both, “Do you not remember anything about our plan?”

Bazz scratched his chin. “We want to go swimming up the waterfall.”

Gaddison took a deep breath. “Well done, Bazz, son of Seggin. That’s the whole point of this venture, none of the adults will let us go on the waterfall by ourselves because we aren’t that strong.” She huffed and sat down, her legs crossed and both hands holding her face up in what Link recognised as classic-moody-child-face, “We just need some supervision is all. That is what Link would have been ideal for, but he doesn’t have the armour, it was a longshot really.”

Rivan piped up. “WAIT I remember now! Wasn’t this to do with Kodah?”

Up until that point, Link had been watching the three of them squabbling with amusement mostly. He’d been surprised with the revelation of the Zora Armour but how was he supposed to know the intricacies of Zora… courting (?) rituals. It struck him as weird that they hadn’t changed a single bit since when he was a child and when he played with them. Although, it made sense, that they had remained children whilst he had matured, because Hylians aged much faster compared to the Zora. As soon as Kodah was brought up though, he winced. He could still hear her screeching LINNY when he had walked into the Domain with the Princess who had come to recruit Mipha as a champion. It had been mortifying.

Gaddison sighed. “Yes, she said she was making the armour for a Hylian remember! And then that gossip that my mother heard that she was in fact going to propose to the Hero? In case you’ve been living under a rock- that Hero is sitting right there!” She pointed at him, and Link went red-faced, his eyebrows raised high. Oh, thank the Goddesses Kodah hadn’t done anything. He had no idea what he’d even say. How had she ever thought he’d agree anyway- it wasn’t like he’d talked to her properly since when he was four! But then, time passed differently for the Zora… “I thought she would have given it to him by now.” She huffed, “We should have realised that flaw in our plan.”

Bazz was uncharacteristically silent as the three of them sulked over not being able to go up the waterfall. Link felt bemused that all of their extensive planning was over this armour that apparently a lover, in this case Kodah, was meant to give to their loved one (him haha what a joke) so that he could wear said engagement gift and take them to the waterfall. He shook his head, children’s priorities and means to achieve those were always… entertaining to listen to. Bazz suddenly perked up, “Baby Prince!” Sidon looked up from where he had been resting his head on Link’s shoulder. “Didn’t you go blabbing around the other day to the King that Princess Mipha was making someone armour?”

Rivan enthusiastically nodded, “YEAH- you said that King Dorephan was worried about it, so he commi-ssioned someone to get the materials, and he gave them the Zora Greaves!”

Link swallowed; he had a small inclination of where things were going but he wasn’t sure. He pulled out the Greaves anyway and after a round of ohs and ahs, a hushed silence fell over the group, everyone watching Sidon as the small red spots on his cheeks flared a darker red. He sucked in a small breath and slowly nodded.

Bazz nodded, and immediately stood up. “This is a mission for the The Big Bad Bazz Brigade. We hereby announce that we will go searching for this Armour- this is your pre-pre-liminary mission, Rookie Comrade Sidon. We cannot go find Kodah’s armour because we have no clue where it is so that would waste valuable time, but you know where Mipha’s is don’t you?”

Sidon nodded, much more enthusiastically this time. Link held his hands up, trying to get them to stop.

Gaddison stood up then, “Wait, what if she made it for a Zora?”

Bazz shook his head, “We’ll make do. You want to go swimming tonight, don’t you Heroine?”

Link was vehemently shaking his head, and opened his mouth, but the words died in his throat. What were they doing? What was he agreeing to?! No, he had to say something, he might not know much about courting rituals, but he didn’t want to wear something meant as a present for an engagement!

“Hey!” They all looked at him, “Is this… okay?”

“We need to ask Comrade Gaddison for that information because we, ahem, didn’t, uh, study the particulars.”

Gaddison paused. “Well, I don’t really know. Do you just propose once in your life and that’s it? I mean technically the scales grow back right? It’s not like you have a gaping hole in your chest. And really, everyone seems to be making one at the minute, so it probably doesn’t hold all that fancy meaning anymore. And Lord Jabu Jabu knows we have so many traditions that no one other than the oldies bother with.”

Rivan piped up, “Princess Mipha is nice too, so she won’t mind right?”

Gaddison nodded, “True, and theoretically, we’re just borrowing it. It’s not like Link here will take it forever or something. It’s just so we can practise going up the waterfall a few times on our own, and then we’ll give it back. She probably won’t even know we’ve taken it!” She shook her head, “I surmise no issues Comrade Bazz. We may proceed.”

“Comrade Rivan?”

“Sounds good! It means we can swim with Link, right?”

Bazz sighed, “Yes it does. Good so, last person, Comrade Link?”

Link blinked. This whole situation had gone from zero to one hundred so fast. He wasn’t even sure what he was consenting to, and he was really confused. Did this armour really matter to the Zora? Apparently, it did to the shop keepers, but maybe he’d just confused them? That was highly likely considering he hadn’t even said anything to begin with. And Kodah had made him one and he’d last seen her when he was four- she couldn’t genuinely believe he would agree to marry her right? But even ignoring that, it made the whole thing seem a bit like a joke- surely the Armour doesn’t mean that much if you’d make it for someone who you haven’t talked to in years? Plus, the way Gaddison was talking, and she was really the only source of actual knowledge on the topic, made it seem like it was something all the Zora did in their spare time. But stealing Mipha’s potentially specific armour for her future husband? That felt really wrong. And he knew Mipha was a very serious person, not at all like Kodah, so he had a feeling this meant more to her. Plus, why exactly was he agreeing - because the kids wanted to go surfing vertically? That just felt ridiculous. He shook his head. No. He wasn’t going to ruin Mipha’s gift for her, um, future husband. It’s not what friends would do.

Bazz’s eyes widened, “Please Link. You don’t… play with us anymore. I know you’re all grown up, and you have like responsi-si-”

“Responsibilities you fool.”

“What she said!” and then Bazz opened up his pouch, “AND we got you a gift! Your favourite from the Domain, Hearty Salmon Meuniere!”

Link sighed, about to decline, but his stomach rumbled again and Bazz shoved the plate into his hand. He always was too susceptible to food. And, they made a valid point. He hadn’t spent much time with them lately and they seemed desperate to go up a waterfall. Maybe this was a Zora rite of passage- he knew when he was younger, he’d been desperate to duel with soldiers, but everyone had laughed at him because he was so young. Perhaps this was the same for them. And who was he kidding- he just couldn’t say no. Especially to food children. And he couldn’t deny a small part of him was intrigued as to what the Zora Armour looked like after all. It was the last one he had yet to collect, having received the Greaves from who he now knew was the king, and the Helm from when Mipha had been recruited. So, even though he felt like it was probably not the right thing to do, he agreed, the reckless and hungry side won out. “One ride up the waterfall. And then we return the Armour.”

A series of exclamations and happy cries of “YES! LET’S GO!” rang out through the Domain.

Next (Part 2)

#zelink #zelink fanfic #zelink fanfiction #botw #botw fanfiction #link #zelda #mipha #onesided mipha x link #a propsal gone awry #silent writes

[pan-fangirl-345]

Until Eternity Runs Out

Summary: You're a double agent, a spy, a traitor, but there's only one thing more important to you than putting your mother's killer behind bars, one person that you're willing to put ahead of everything else: Sero Hanta.

Additional Information: The reader is an umbrakinetic, meaning she can manipulate shadows. Loosely based off of Azriel from A Court of Thorns and Roses, a book series that I adore. She can also teleport using her quirk. Her shadows are also able to talk to her, but they don't talk with anyone else other than the reader's "boss". Her hero name is Shadow Singer.

TW: The reader is a spy for U.A. and there is a battle scene and vague descriptions of blood. There is murder in this, but there's not like, an actual scene for it in this. Mentions of abuse. I think that's it, other than there will be some angst in this.

A/N: I have no idea where this came from, but I hope you guys like it. Sorry I've dropped off the map. School has been kicking my ass and I've been having a spell where I am kind of just going through the motions. I haven't really felt like myself lately, so I'm sorry that there hasn't been a lot of content.

"Mistress, the Master wishes to see you," your shadows whispered, making you give a small groan as they all whispered into your head at once. There were hundreds of voices hissing in your head, all at once, and they were annoyingly loud.

"Fine," you mumbled, slipping out from underneath Hanta's arm.

You really shouldn't have been in there, but he had had a rough day and it had been clear that he needed you. He'd cried himself to sleep earlier, and you hadn't had the heart to go back to your own room.

You opened a portal and stepped through it, walking into what your boss was considering his home base. It was really just a secluded rundown meat packing plant that had been shut down thirty years ago.

You had no idea why it hadn't been knocked down or condemned, but you knew that your boss had some high level friends in the government.

It didn't matter that you were only in a tank top and shorts, every member of your group knew that you were all kinds of off limits. Not only had you made it abundantly clear that you were in a relationship, and that you weren't interested, the boss had threatened to castrate anyone who laid a hand on you.

"Report," your boss demanded.

You could only see his hands and some of his legs from where you stood, but it didn't matter, your shadows saw everything and were reporting it back to you.

Besides, you knew what he looked like anyway.

"You really need to stop waking me up in the middle of the night like that. There's this thing called sleep that normal human beings need. And nothing's been happening," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes softly, stifling a yawn. "It's all regular training, and it's not like the teachers tell us shit anyways."

"Are you sure that it's not because you're too busy sucking face with the plain tape boy?" your boss asked.

"Hanta has nothing to do with this," you said. "I would tell you anything that I learned. Have I ever let you down? Has my information ever led you astray?"

"No, and let's keep it that way," your boss said. "You know what happens when someone outlives their usefulness."

"Yeah yeah old man," you muttered, rubbing your eyes as you headed back through your portal into your dorm room.

You knew in the back of your mind that he would kill you if he thought that you had reached your limits, but you were still too useful to him. He needed you as his trump card. You were the only person he could trust enough.

Stupid, foolish old man. Too many cards in the deck and not enough time to keep them all in check.

"Mi estrella? Where'd you go?" Hanta murmured, reaching out for you.

He had propped himself up on his elbows, an arm outstretched to pull you back into his soothing warmth.

"Bathroom, sorry," you whispered, kissing his forehead softly. "Go back to bed mi amor, I'm back."

You slipped under the covers with him again, humming as he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you against him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Be careful mi estrella," Hanta murmured, wrapping his arms around you.

"I will mi amor, I always am," you replied, kissing him quickly before you moved to head out into the streets for patrol.

"Hey, you know that you can't do that," he teased, gripping your wrist lightly before he pulled you back into his chest, kissing you fully on the mouth.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him softly before you had to pull away.

"Hey, mi amor, I have to go, I'm gonna be late," you whispered, kissing him once more before you headed for the exit again. "I love you."

"I love you too."

You smiled at him, bright, before you slipped into the elevators.

You readjusted the belt on your suit, letting your eyes close for a moment, listening to the new information your shadows had gathered before the doors dinged open.

"Time for work," you murmured, heading for the agency.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Today, we're raiding this old meat packing plant," one of the heroes in charge said. "We have brought in a lot of heroes to help with this for once sole purpose: to capture as many group members as possible. This group has been expanding recently, and after extensive investigation, we have found that they have been planning an attack on U.A. sometime in the near future."

You were trying to pay attention, you really were, but you hadn't expected your cover to be blown so soon.

"Principal Nezu has been forthcoming with the information that he has a student working undercover with the organization, and most of our information has come directly from them."

"How do we know that this information is legit?"

"This student has never been wrong. Their quirk makes them perfect for both recon and apprehension. In addition, they have a personal connection to the leader of the organization, and they were more than willing to hand them over to the authorities."

"Why?"

"Because the leader of the organization killed their mother," the hero in charge said.

A hush settled over the room and you had to remind yourself that they didn't know it was you.

"We're heading out as soon as we get the warrant here, so be ready to go at any time. Shadow, that means you too."

"Yes sir," you said. "I understand."

"You remember the plan?"

"Of course," you murmured. "And I say that it's about damn time."

As soon as the meeting was over, you teleported to Nezu's office.

"Sir, the plan is in motion. We're simply waiting on the signal. I'm going to go, I still have to play the part of the loyal soldier after all."

"Of course my dear," he said, patting your hand reassuringly. "Be careful."

"I will be as careful as I can be," you told him. "Thank you for trusting me sir."

Nezu nodded, a grave look in his eyes.

"In case things go wrong," you said, hating that you felt the need to say it. "In case things don't go as planned, can you tell Hanta that I love him?"

Nezu nodded, and you left before you could overthink things.

You shadows were whirling around you like a small hurricane when you stepped back into base, right in front of your boss.

"Sir, the heroes are on their way, planning a raid. They have a warrant, and they plan on apprehending as many of us as possible. My shadows told me that there's a traitor in the lower ranks, I saw them in the agency earlier today. I couldn't get close enough, I'm sorry. People in the agency know what my shadows look and feel like, I couldn't risk blowing my cover."

The boss merely hummed, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair, which looked more like a throne from where you were standing.

You suspected that was the point.

The boss was a psychopath gathering a cult, he was narcissistic and you knew that he was a misogynistic man with an eye for the weak. He probably thought that he should be a king.

He thought that this was his kingdom and that the organization was full of his subjects.

And you were the princess.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Sero's POV)

When Hanta had gotten called in, he was surprised. He hadn't been a part of the raid to claim back Eri, but he had been told about it.

And now they were doing almost the same thing, minus the small, abused child that needed rescuing.

Kirishima, Midoriya, Uraraka, Tsuyu, and Hanta had all been called in. (Y/F/N) was supposed to be a part of the raid too, but she wasn't there.

"She's playing her part, she's right where we need her," the hero she was working under had told him when he had asked about her during the debriefing.

"Cellophane, are you ready?"

"Yes sir!"

He was waiting with the other heroes for the doors to be opened.

He remembered Midoriya telling him that the Chisaki had fought back immediately to give their boss time to escape, but someone in a well tailored suit opened the door, looking more like a butler than a warrior.

"Welcome, we've been expecting you," the man said, throwing an arm out to welcome them in. "The boss is ready to see you, I'll take you to him."

Despite the order to apprehend anyone they came across, the double agent had given them very little information on the schematics of the building, given that they had never wandered through long enough to be able to remember much of it. That, and they had a person that could change the building around.

"Is this normal?" Hanta whispered.

"Not even close," Kirishima told him as they were led deeper and deeper into the building.

The butler opened a door that spilled into what look like a storage area with windows.

It was empty save for a raised platform with one chair.

A man sat there, face concealed with shadows. All Hanta could see was his legs and his hands, tapping a small rhythm with his fingers.

That mannerism was familiar, but Hanta wasn't sure why.

"You were right as always, (Y/F/N), I didn't doubt it," the man boomed.

Hanta and the other students froze and the shadows moved, revealing you to them.

You were in your hero suit, but your head was down, and your shoulders were shaking.

"Mi estrella?" Hanta asked, his heart dropping into his stomach. She wasn't supposed to be there, was she? Was she supposed to be that close to the leader?

Something was wrong.

"So this is your boyfriend. I have to say, I'm disappointed. I was hoping you would enthrall someone more powerful."

"He's everything I need," you whispered, your voice quieter than Hanta had ever heard you.

"Did you know, that most girls choose boys that remind them subconsciously of their fathers?" the man asked, though Hanta wasn't sure who it was aimed at.

"Hanta is nothing like you," you said, a little louder, your shadows zipping around, like they were agitated. "And he will never be like you."

Hanta knew that your shadows responded to you, that they were connected in some way to your emotions, so something must've been really wrong if they were acting like that. He had never seen them this agitated.

"And why's that?"

"Because he would never hurt me. And because he isn't a narcissistic psychopath with an inferiority complex trying to prove that he's worth more than a dead wife and a daughter."

The man moved faster than Hanta's eyes could follow, and a muffled sound from you told Hanta that the man had hit you.

"Silence," the man hissed, sitting back down. "We have guests."

"I know," you said. "I'm the one that have them the name of our contractor. I'm the one that gave them the names and addresses and the weak spots of every member of this cult. I'm the traitor that spilled every secret of this organization."

You disappeared from the dais, wreathed in shadows, distorting your voice so that no one knew where you were in the room. Your voice got loud enough that everyone could hear you, no matter where in the room they were.

"And do you want to know why, Dad, do you want to know why I would throw it all away? Because I know that Mom wasn't trapped in that burning building. I know that those broken bones weren't from debris or from her trying to get out of the house. I know that all those nights she spent out weren't an affair like you said.

"I know that she was following you, and that when you argued, it wasn't about her fidelity. It was about what you are, about what you were putting us through. It was about what you were doing, where the money was coming from."

"How did you find out?" the man roared.

"I've been a spy all my life. It started with you, as a precaution for me, because Mom didn't want me as another one of your victims. It started with you, and it will end with you."

"Very clever, you aren't as dumb as I thought you were," the man said, voice calm again.

Hanta's brain was caught on one thing: this man was your father. He had hit you, and you had acted as if it was a normal thing. You had grown up with this knowledge.

How could you even stand your father? How could you even be in the same room as him without murdering him?

How could you love Hanta as much as you did when you had no good connections to what love really was.

"But do you want to know something, daughter? I know your weakness as well, I know what you would die to protect. Especially from me."

"Oh yeah, and what's that?" you asked.

"Him," the man cooed, pointing at Hanta.

Arms wrapped around him, a hand at his throat, and Hanta stiffened. Other heroes around him moved to help, but the man's grip tightened, and they stopped.

"Hanta," you screamed. "Don't, please, don't hurt him. Riki, we've known each other since we were five, please, don't hurt him."

"Sorry (Y/F/N), but I owe your father my life."

"Please," you whispered, appearing in front of them, a few feet away. "Please, he's all I have left."

Hanta took your face in, the bruise forming on your cheek, the tears streaming down your face as you stood there.

"Mi estrella," he whispered, "te amo, hasta que se acaba la eternidad."

My star, I love you until eternity runs out.

"Hanta," you whispered, "Mi amor, lo siento mucho."

My love, I'm so sorry.

"Don't apologize," he told you. "None of this is your fault."

"How sweet," the man cooed, and Hanta turned an icy glare on him.

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you the whole plan," you told Hanta, who turned his eyes back to you. He had that feeling again, that deep hut feeling that something was wrong. "But this is the only thing that I know will work."

Hanta wasn't sure what you were talking about, but then the shadows around you grew and grew until they seemed to be pouring out of your entire body.

"Mi estrella?" Hanta asked as the man behind him dropped his hands.

"Shit," the man hissed, moving to run before he was handcuffed. "Shit, she's going off."

"What does that mean?" Hanta demanded.

"Before she learned to control her quirk, (Y/F/N) used to bottle them up until she exploded. Her quirk reacts to her emotions, when she exploded we called it 'going off'. She's about to blow like a nuclear bomb. We all have to get out of here!"

Seeing Hanta in a position like that must've pushed you over some ledge that you hadn't known about.

But then it hit him.

You had planned this.

You were smart, you were one of the top students, level with Midoriya and Bakugou and Todoroki, so you had more than enough brain cells to plan this.

"She was my friend for a very long time," Riki told Hanta, his eyes wide. "So, for her sake, make her stop."

"How?"

"She panics more than she wants people to know, you need to make her feel safe, or safe enough that she can get herself under control again."

Even your father was backing away, something like fear on his face as he took you in.

"Mi estrella," Hanta called. "I don't know if you can hear me, but you can stop now! You don't have to do this, there's another way. We're worried about you!"

He tried to move forwards, but Kirishima and Midoriya were trying to hold him back.

"Sero, don't."

"That's my girlfriend, I'm not going to just leave her," he growled, ripping away from them.

He strode forwards, reaching out to touch you, but the shadows got in the way.

He kept going, despite the shadows trying to push him back.

You were right, he would never hurt you, but the shadows that had been protecting you your entire life didn't seem to understand that.

"Come back to me," he whispered, fear starting to settle in the pit of his stomach. "Please (Y/F/N), come back to me. We can get you back to the dorms, you never have to be afraid of your father again, you never have to do this again."

Hanta was pushed through the shadows, but it wasn't like his tape could stick to them, they were fucking shadows!

"I don't?"

Hanta spun around, searching for your face in the mass of shadows, but it was like your voice was speaking directly to him.

"I promise, you never have to see him again. I'll keep you safe, I promise. I know you can take care of yourself, but that doesn't mean that you have to. Come back to me, mi estrella, and I promise, it'll all be okay. Come back with me, please (Y/F/N). I love you."

He felt your presence, and he turned.

It looked like you, but there was something not quite corporeal about you.

"You promise?" you asked.

You looked a few years younger, and you weren't in your hero suit anymore. You were in a small pink floral sundress, clutching the necklace that you never took off.

"I promise. I promise that I will never be like him, that I will never hurt you the way that he did. I promise that I will do my best to always be there for you when you need me, mi amor."

He opened his arms to you, and you took a few steps closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, but you had to get on your tiptoes to do it.

He scooped the younger version of you up, cradling your head against his shoulder, walking out of the shadows.

When he stepped into the light again the other shadows melted back into your body.

You were back to your normal age, and you were sobbing into his shoulder, clinging to him.

Hanta didn't mind, he held you tighter, arms under your knees and around your back.

"I can take her," Kirishima offered, jogging over.

"I have her," Hanta told him, nudging your temple with his nose.

He wasn't letting you go until he absolutely had to. He wasn't going to let you feel like this ever again.

The other heroes were rounding up members, your father was spitting in the back of a cop cruiser already, all composure lost.

Hanta sat in the back of an ambulance, holding you in his lap as you sobbed. He wanted to make sure that you were okay, he had no idea what that meltdown did to your body, but not until you were ready.

All he could do now was hold you, show you that you weren't alone, that he wasn't going to leave, and hope to every deity and otherworldly being out there that you pulled out of this alright.

"Mi amor, mi estrella, mi eternidad, mi amado, mi carino," he murmured, pressing kisses to your temple and the one cheek he could reach.

The others had all stopped by to see how you were doing, but they had taken one look and known that you were in the best hands possible.

"I love you," he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your neck. "I love you, and I promise that you never have to see him again, that you can leave him behind after this. I promise that I will always give you the choice."

"H-Hanta, t-t-take me h-home," you sobbed, the first words you had said to him in half an hour.

"Can I take you to the hospital first? I just want to make sure that you're all right. I don't know what that 'going off' thing did to your body."

"It do-doesn't do anything t-t-to m-my bo-body," you whispered. "It just exhausts me."

"Okay, mi estrella," he whispered. He could always bring you back later, or take you to Recovery Girl.

"You don't have to stay," you whispered, pulling away from him. "You can leave, if you want."

"Why would I leave?" he inquired.

"Now that you know about my family, about me, you can't possibly want me," you muttered, wiping at your face as you started to breath regularly again.

"(Y/F/N), I have never been more in love with you than I am right now," he told you.

That made you pause.

"Huh?"

"The hero that you're working under told me that you planned most of the raid, and that you pretended to be spying on U.A., that you were detrimental to the operation. You knew that your father would use me against you, that he would try to make me a target, and you had a plan, albeit a stupid one, to get us all out.

"You are so smart, and so beautiful, and so out of my league I wonder how the hell you even stand me. I am more in love with you right now than I was when we started to day. I'm not leaving you, I'm not leaving you because you are nothing like your father, and because I need you, just like you need me."

"You don't need me," you whispered, glancing down at your lap. "You're probably better off without me."

"How about I decide that, yeah?"

You glanced up him, watching his face for a few minutes before your shoulders relaxed.

"Alright mi amor," you relented. "But you have to know that you can leave whenever you want."

"So can you," Hanta said.

"Why would I ever do that?"

Hanta smiled at you, nudging your forehead with his.

"I love you," Hanta said. "I love you more than you'll ever know."

It was a cheesy thing to say, and so cliche, but he meant it, and he was sure that he would keep meaning it.

"I love you too Hanta," you told him. "Until eternity runs out."

#hanta x reader #sero hanta imagine #sero x reader #sero hanta x reader #hanta sero x reader #fluff #angst #what was i thinking #bnha #mha #sero hanta bnha #hanta sero bnha #sero bnha #hanta bnha

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt - Meng Shi is NHS's mother, making him half brother to NMJ and JGY.

Three Gates - on ao3 (for content warnings check Ao3)

- Chapter 1 - 

Meng Yao sat out on the balcony of the brothel, bored out of his mind, as he waited for the party in the fancy inn down the way to finish.

He knew it was an important one from the way his mother had nearly clawed another girl’s eyes out for the opportunity to go. It wouldn’t have been worth it otherwise: she was older, her looks a little faded, her body a little weaker than the others, and a party like that was not nearly as effective a means of making money as the steady work at the brothel.

But Meng Yao didn’t know why it was so important – only that his mother had looked especially excited as she’d gotten ready.

Maybe she thought she might find a patron there.

Wistful thinking, if she did – she hadn’t had a patron in over a year, and the last one hadn’t been worth much; they hadn’t even gotten a better room at the brothel out of it, much less being set up in a discreet apartment of their own the way Meng Shi had told him had happened in the past.

At least Meng Yao hadn’t been recruited to act as a server at the party. The bosses at the brothel and the inn asked for him to do odd tasks like that more and more since they knew they could get him to do it for free, and he had no choice, even though he hated seeing his mother smile and flutter her eyes at the men she serviced. This party, though, was too high-end, apparently, to risk having a child like him mess up – they’d gotten actual servers, paid ones, and never mind the cost.

Maybe there would be rich men there, generous ones. Maybe his mother would be able to get a good tip. Maybe the bosses would be well-paid enough to let her keep it. Maybe they could get some meat to eat…

“Hey, you! You – you up there! Can you help me?”

He looked down.

There was another boy there at the base of the balcony outside of Meng Shi's window, where Meng Yao liked to sit: a boy few years older than him, taller, in finely made clothing that would normally make Meng Yao itch all over in futile envy, but the other boy’s eyes were white around the edges in a way that was immediately, painfully familiar.

“Someone’s chasing you?” Meng Yao asked, and the boy’s eyes widened even further, surprised, but he nodded in confirmation. “There’s a trellis around the left side – can you climb up? I'll hide you.”

The boy found the trellis that Meng Yao used to get in and out of the second floor without anyone seeing – it creaked a little under the bigger boy’s weight, but he was just young and small enough that he managed to get up without too much of a problem, and Meng Yao pushed him through the balcony door just as a dark figure stepped out from the inn down the road, his motions a little too slow and deliberate to be anything but predatory.

The man was handsome enough, in a cruel sort of way. Meng Yao didn’t like the way he smiled as he started to survey the street with his eyes – looking for the boy Meng Yao had just hidden away, no doubt about it, and men who attended parties stocked with people like Meng Yao’s mother as party favors didn’t have good intentions when they looked at boys with a smile like that.

Meng Yao put on his stupidest and most vacant expression, leaning his head against the bars as if he’d never done anything more interesting in his life than daydream, and eventually the man walked by the brothel without paying him more than a cursory look.

As soon as he was sure the man was gone, Meng Yao turned and went back inside.

“Thanks,” the boy said. He was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, his knees pulled up to his chest and still shaking; he didn’t even seem to have noticed that he was in the perfumed heart of a brothel lady’s personal chambers. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

“He was looking for you in particular,” Meng Yao said, crouching down next to him and studying him with the practiced eye of a boy raised among whores. The boy was handsome, with straight features, good cheekbones, and a certain ruddiness that suggested health – not the sort of pretty boy that usually got sought out at such parties, but certainly more than pretty enough. Tall, too, to judge by the length of his legs, but the amount of baby fat on his face suggested Meng Yao had been right about him being not that much older than him. “Why? He was at a party full of prostitutes.”

There wasn’t any point in obfuscating.

The boy ducked his head down, cheeks flushing dark. “My father’s there,” he said, not really answering the question. “They kept toasting him over and over, until they’d gotten him really drunk, and then they set up him with one of the – with a lady. Normally he keeps an eye on me so there isn’t any trouble, but this time...”

Meng Yao frowned. “That man’s been after you before?” A shaky nod. “You’re sure? Has he ever tried –”

The boy flinched.

“And your father still took you to where he could find you?” Meng Yao shook his head: fathers really weren’t worth anything, were they? His own had abandoned him, abandoned his mother without even purchasing her freedom, and this boy’s didn’t seem especially good either, if he was out getting drunk and leaving his son where known harm could come to him.

“He didn’t have a choice,” the boy mumbled. “Either about going to the party, or about bringing me. Anyway it’s not even – I don’t think it’s about me. He doesn’t have any reputation for liking boys generally. But he hates my father, and I’m my father’s only son, his heir. Wen Ruohan only wants to ruin me to hurt my father.”

Having seen the avid, avaricious look on the man’s face as he’d walked down the street, searching, Meng Yao wasn’t so sure about that, but he thought it might not help to say so. “Well, you lost him.”

“Thanks,” the boy said. “I’m in your debt. But I’d better get going, before he starts knocking on doors and asking questions.”

“In this district? No one will answer.”

“They will if he offers them gold,” the boy said, rubbing his face. He looked tired, and scared.

If this Wen Ruohan was willing to go knocking at every brothel in town and offer them gold to search for the boy, it definitely wasn’t just about his father, but Meng Yao was a practical sort of person. “I can help hide you,” he decided. “Will you give me gold for it, too, later?”

The bosses wouldn’t share any of Wen Ruohan’s gold with him, but this boy – or rather, his father – might, if Meng Yao played his cards right. Of course, he might get nothing at all, but nothing was more than likely what he’d get on the other side, too, and if he did nothing then there’d be another ruined boy on the streets, probably disowned when his dishonor was discovered, with no way to live other than to sell himself to one of the brothels that catered to things like that.

He wasn’t yet quite bitter enough to want others to be torn down to make his own misery seem less.

Might as well try to help.

The boy nodded, eyes wide, and Meng Yao tugged him over to the closet where his mother kept her clothing. “He’s looking for a boy,” he explained when the boy didn’t seem to understand. “This brothel doesn’t keep boys – I’m not a worker here, my mother is – and so it would be strange for there to be a boy here, you understand? But not strange at all for there to be another whore. Not even a young one.”

He probably could have just hidden the boy in the closet and called it done, but Meng Yao took a certain pleasure in stripping down the fine sturdy fabrics the boy was wearing and replacing them with his mothers’ cheap silks – they’d been more expensive, once, but she’d had to sell those – and in painting the boy’s face and eyes until he looked like any of the other girls that worked the house.

More pretty than some, even. His looks were really quite striking, even covered in cheap makeup, but with a fan and a veil to guard his face, no one looked twice at him where he was sitting in the corner of the main room, not even when the man hunting him, Wen Ruohan, leisurely followed the bosses around as they tore through the brothel, opening closets and looking under beds, searching for a stowaway.

Meng Yao’s pettiness turned out to have been a good idea, and if the boy asked, he’d definitely done it on purpose.

(A few of the men tried to buy ‘her’, always out looking for new meat, but Meng Yao was an old hand at turning down or redirecting customers that wanted things, and the one that kept persisting, a mean old drunkard that they’d had problems with before, got scared away by the boy’s own vicious glare.)

“Thanks,” the boy said again once the man he'd called Wen Ruohan had left. “Again.”

“You’ll pay me later,” Meng Yao reminded him, and the boy nodded. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“My name is Nie Mingjue. What's your name?”

“Meng Yao. Come upstairs – I have a little place in the attic where I sleep, and if you squeeze you might just fit.”

Nie Mingjue did, albeit barely, and if Meng Yao shoved himself into the boy’s arms, insisting that there wasn’t any other alternative, he thought that the bit of warmth he got was the least he deserved for enduring the stresses of the evening. His suspicions that Nie Mingjue was a great hugger whose hands never wandered were borne out by truth, and they stayed warm and safe the entire night through.

The next morning, Meng Yao reluctantly gave Nie Mingjue back his clothing – he would’ve liked to have sold a few pieces if he thought he could get away with it, but Nie Mingjue was meticulous in dressing properly – and watched him get dressed, thumbing idly through one of the cultivation manuals his mother had bought him. She hadn’t come home the night before, which meant she’d had a customer at the party; hopefully that meant they would be eating this month, even if Nie Mingjue forgot about paying what he owed. Assuming she didn’t waste the money on even more stupid books…

“What’s that?” Nie Mingjue asked, nodding at it.

Meng Yao showed it to him. “It’s supposed to teach you the basics of cultivating.”

He didn’t think it did, though. Nothing happened no matter how many times he practiced the motions, and it wouldn’t be the first time something his mother had bought at too high a price with her hard-earned money turned out to be a fake.

“Cultivation?” Nie Mingjue asked, and took the manual. “This is wrong.”

Meng Yao sighed. Of course it was.

“This won’t teach you anything,” Nie Mingjue continued, flipping through the pages with a frown. “Some of this is actually backwards - it’s not just useless, it’s worse than useless.”

Meng Yao blinked. “How do you know?”

“Because I’m a cultivator, of course,” Nie Mingjue said as if it was nothing. “Do you really want to learn?”

“It’s my mother’s dream for me,” Meng Yao said, his hands curling into fists with excitement. Nie Mingjue could be lying, of course, but he’d figured out pretty quickly in their conversation the night before that Nie Mingjue was very bad even at dissembling, and he didn’t look like he was lying now. “If you get me a real manual, there’s no need to pay any gold.”

“I’ll do both,” Nie Mingjue said, very seriously. “I don’t have a beginner’s manual with me, but I’ll get one from home and bring it to you next time we come here. Will that work?”

Meng Yao nodded furiously. Even if he got nothing, he started with nothing, he reminded himself harshly, but he couldn’t quite stop himself from hoping. Just once, just this once…

“And as for the gold, I can get that right now,” Nie Mingjue said. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Meng Yao spent the next quarter shichen telling himself to forget about seeing Nie Mingjue ever again, that the other boy had already forgotten him, that it was all pointless and he should be thinking instead about how to convince his mother to save some of what she earned from the night’s work rather than spending it at once.

But Nie Mingjue did come back, running as fast as he could.

“Meng Yao! Meng Yao!” he shouted, waving, and Meng Yao looked down at him from the balcony just the way he had the night before. “We’re going to leave right away, so I have to go back, but I got you whatever I could grab! Catch!”

Meng Yao caught the little bag Nie Mingjue threw him, stunned, and watched as the other boy ran back the way he came, a pair of fiercely scowling men in dark robes catching him by the arms and starting to scold him even as they dragged him away.

The pouch in Meng Yao’s hands was very light, feeling almost as if there was nothing inside, and very small, barely two fingers in width.

He figured that meant that there wouldn’t be much in there – a child’s pocket-money – but when he opened it up, he unexpectedly could fit his whole hand inside.

“Qiankun pouch!” he gasped, realizing what it must be, and grabbed a handful of the coins inside to pull out. They weren’t all gold – mostly not, in fact, but all those copper pennies and pieces of silver were still more than Meng Shi had managed to save up in six months’ time, and the two or three little chunks of gold hidden underneath would be an excellent start to a fund meant to buy her freedom.

Meng Yao hid the money in four different spots right away, putting the bag itself in the safest spot of all, and went to show the bosses a portion of what he’d gotten, claiming he’d gotten an unexpected tip. They took the small scrap of silver, leaving him with only a few copper pennies, and they went and found one of the more obviously hidden stashes to confiscate as well, just as he’d expected. But after that, they thought he’d been emptied out, while the gold and the rest of the money were still safe.

“Yesterday was a good day,” he told his mother with a smile when she returned, but she didn’t smile back even though her clothing was still intact and he didn’t see any new bruises, meaning it had to have been a decent enough night. “Wasn’t it for you?”

“No,” she said, her voice dull and deeply disappointed. “Not really.”

#mdzs #meng yao #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #nieyao #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #three gates #Anonymous #congrats anon! #you won the happen to hit my inspiration sweepstakes!

[root-admins]

SINoALICE x NieR Replicant - Weapon Stories

A complete compilation of all weapon stories from SINoALICE’s NieR Replicant collab... well, the ones that has lore to do with NieR anyways.

Whatever grammar mistakes/translation errors belongs to Pokelabo, and you will tell there are some. Most are stories are pretty self-explanatory tho.

Grimoire Weiss

We fought for what seemed like ages. To kill those things that took a twisted human form. To protect those precious to me, with my own hands. We were deceived for so long. Deceived by people in a land we've never been, whose faces we've never seen Issuing orders from a safe distance. We must have been in love. And despite the fact I couldn't save you, but I never got to thank you for saving me. These fragments glimmering deep in my depths... they seem to be the vague memories of people... the faded remnants of human wisdom... H-hold on! I’ll have you know my name is not “Booky Wooky!” You may call me "Grimoire Weiss" I am a great compendium of ancient wisdom. Treat me with respect!

Grimoire Noir

My name is the Black Book. Are you the king who will lead the world to salvation? Don't be so surprised, Your Majesty. For me, it is a simple matter to speak human words. I sympathize with your distress, Your Majesty. On this occasion, however, we have no choice but to let them deal with your sister. When sorrow overtakes you, you may come to me and speak of your tribulations. Reading is an admirable pursuit. Your Majesty--for me?? I shall peruse this volume if it comes on your recommendation... What is that? You think it odd for a book to read a book? Noir? I would prefer to dispense with this nickname. My name, Your Majesty, is the Black Book. I am a grand tome of human wisdom... thus, to refer to me by such a curious moniker is, dare I say, inappropriate.

Kaine’s Sword

She was slender, with smooth, white skin. The hint of a dark shadow in her expression highlighted her beautiful features. But something about the sword in her hand didn't seem to fit the picture. Anger, sorrow, hatred. When emotions overwhelmed her, she would swing the sword, so there was never a lack of blood to quench its thirst. The problem was that she couldn't put the sword down. A heart and body in constant conflict. No one in the world could understand her. And loneliness was eating her alive. The long war came to an end, and darkness devoured her. But her heart remained at peace. Because she faced fate in the arms of the one she loved.

Halua Head

File_25_10: Update Soon twins will be arriving. There is nothing at all in the white-walled, prison-like room except for a white bed. If only there were something to do in there... File_25_12: Update I went to look in on them, and the girl was kindly encouraging her anxious younger brother. The two of them had heavy expectations to fulfill. The weight of all humanity's hope bore down upon them. File_26_06: Update The day of the experiment, the girl passed me a letter. To the very end, she wanted someone to watch over her brother. Once I agreed, she quickly ran away. Report: Human Weapon Development Things seem to be progressing as expected with Experimental Subject A (Sister), but her condition has changed drastically. In her present state, she seems to have no sense of self. I am urgently beginning work on Experimental Subject B (Brother).

Devola & Popola’s Staff

－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ Dear Popola, Thanks for that soup recipe! My mom loved it!  －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ A note received from a child in the village. Does this mean they are developing a sense of self? －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ Dear Popola, Thanks to the medicine you gave me, I'm feeling a lot better, though I can't leave home yet. Just sending a note to say thanks. －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ According to our records, humans wrote their feelings down on pieces of paper, and sent them to others. Where did they learn to do such a thing? －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ Dear Popola, I like you a lot. Will you be my girlfriend? Waiting to hear back. －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ I simply cannot understand the things they have written on these scraps of paper. I feel an unfamiliar feeling, my heart saying “no”… －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ Dear Popola, Sorry I couldn't tell you in person, but I'm coming home late tonight. Go ahead and sleep if you're tired. －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ Ah, Devola. No need to worry about me this way. Tee-hee.

Favorite Pot

Yonah, I learned a special recipe! When you eat it, all your injuries will be gone! Oh! I want everyone to feed it to those they care about!

The ingredients are deer meat, sea turtle eggs, fresh veggies and herbs from the garden, and lastly tons of scorpion claws! Next, fill a pot up with all your ingredients, place the top on, and let it simmer overnight! The white steam rising from it is just so mesmerizing. ...Oh! I think it's ready! Smell for a soft scent when you take the lid off. That means it's done! I can't wait to give it to grandpa.

Transience

"Rule 0: You have the right to disband a rule by vote." I am the king's aide and second-in-command. Until now, all rules have be absolute, however, a "Voting Rite" was held where citizens could vote to change rules. Now, let's see what sort of ballots were made...

"Rule 451: Consuming alcohol is forbidden during the daytime." And stated as the reason is: because I like drinking... Because it's anonymous, all these votes are based off selfish desires. We need to improve the system somehow that reflects public opinion.

"Rule 356: Royal inquiries are limited once per day." And stated as the reason is: because I long to be with the King more...? Could this Fyra's vote...? No. Of course not. She's not the type to be interested in love. Moving on...

"Rule 68: The King's aides are to forever serve at his side" Reason being: Thank you for all your hard work. You deserve a break once in awhile... Could this be from the King himself? I'm honored to have stood by your side all these years. And the citizens of this country are proud of your work. There's no doubt of it.

Note: After rigorous deliberation, "Rule 451: Consuming alcohol is forbidden during the daytime", the most voted for rule, was repealed.

Grimoire Weiss ver.1.224

My name is Grimoire Weiss. I am an ancient tome of profound wisdom. After awakening from my long slumber, I traveled the world with my most beloved friends. She was a woman lacking respect for her elders. She'd continuously talk down to me, calling me nothing but paper and even set me aflame. However... Her rash words were also the driving force that moved us all. He was a compassionate and gentle boy who loved his friends. His manor of dress was odd, but his kind words warmed everyone's hearts. This I know to be true. I wonder if he, too had felt any relief from his sins. He was a cheeky guy, but not one you could just leave behind. We've been through a number of rough times together. I'd tell ya about it, but... I'm running out of time. If... If only I had an arm... Then I could have...hugged...him...

Grimoire Rubrum

It's the silk of fate. Knowing you, I shall begin living a life of truth. It's the forbidden fruit. Protecting you, I shall sink into wisdom's abyss. Those are the flames of anxiety. Thinking of you, I shall endure eternity's darkness. That is a reunion of bitter tears. Who are they? Why is it not me who's besides you?

Kaine’s Dual Blades ver.1.224

I craved it. Blind violence and blood-thirsty carnage. And I found it. I finally found it. A vessel stained with anger and hatred, seeking vengeance for the murder of her parents. I possessed that woman and gave her "power." That power turned the woman into a beast. One swing of her blade was enough to cut through stone and her grazes healed in an instant. She began downing every foe before her in the name of vengeance. I was delighted to witness the fruition of my desires. The woman's destruction didn't end there. After having her revenge, she continued to exert her "power" for the sake of her friends. Along her journey, her anger and hatred showed signs of waning, however, I gave it no thought. All I desired was to continue bathing in her bloodshed. Because her body has reached its limit, her power has lost control. Still, in the midst of the clashing of blades, I could feel her desire to protect her friends. Yes, this is the violence and carnage I crave. But why is it deplorable and empty?

Devola & Popola’s Spear

Upon hearing an old lady from the village caught a cold, I immediately collected my medicinal herbs with some boiled water, and rushed out from the library. I nursed her and remained by her side until her symptoms calmed down. She was extremely grateful for it.

I read a picture book to a group of children from the village. It was of an old tale about a brave, courageous man who triumphs over evil. I watched their expressions alternated between joy to sorrow to the story's pacing. I'm glad they enjoyed it.

Devola and I performed a song for the people at the village tavern. In addition to the regulars who drank there, elders and children were part of the audience. At the end of our song, the entire crowd smiled and cheered.

Every day Devola and I have been staying late at the library thinking of a plan to make life easier for the villagers. They're indispensable "vessels" for the project, so we need to do what we can for them.

Letter to the Postman

I was in a dimly lit cabin when I met a kind man. He taught me how to write a letter. What should I write on a blank piece of paper...? ―――――――――――――――――――――――――――― ――――――――――――――――――――――――――――

Apparently, a letter should start off with the name of the person you want to give it to. Of course, I'd want it to be his. I hope he'll be able to read my sloppy handwriting... ―――――――――――――――――――――――――――― 　　Hans ――――――――――――――――――――――――――――

At the end of the letter should be the name of the person who wrote it. Of course, that would be the name he gave me. Is it odd my chest feels warm writing it...? ―――――――――――――――――――――――――――― 　　Hans 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Luiz ――――――――――――――――――――――――――――

And in-between these two names, I'm supposed to write how I feel. And tell him what I want the most. I wonder if he'll be happy to receive this...?

―――――――――――――――――――――――――――― 　　Hans, Thank you　Thank you　Thank you Thank you　Thank you　Thank you　Thank you 　Thank you　Thank you. Luiz ――――――――――――――――――――――――――――

#nier #nier replicant #sinoalice