#me almost 20 days ago: i might be able to keep track of this leg of louis' tour

[perfectdagger]

🤡🤡🤡

#me almost 20 days ago: i might be able to keep track of this leg of louis' tour #me 20 days later: ................................ #it's no one's business #i keep track of it for myself #this blog has become a collection of things i want to know and remember from the boys #this is not and update account #i don't make posts i don't make memes #i've lost a lot of interest in interacting directly with the fandom due to life getting in the way #so my use for this blog is to force myself to know what's going on and reblog the nice pics and edits that show up along the way #and also the fics i read #and eventually the ones i'll bring myself to write -- if i ever find the time to write again #anyway #i'm explaining it more to myself than to anybody else so i can keep myself accountable of missing out on things #with that being said #i'll but harry's bday edits and the rest of loui's australian tour leg on queue #you'll see me when you'll see me peace out ✌😎

[you-didnt-see-that-cuming]

Mirror’s Image | Javier Peña x Reader

Summary: Being with Javier feels like paradise. Being fucked against a mirror by Javier feels like euphoria.

Rated: E

Word Count: 2.7k

AO3 Link

Masterlist

A/N: I’ve been on my loving pedro bullshit again so here is some mirror sex with javier peña

When working as a DEA agent in Colombia, there were rarely ever moments that called for celebration. However, the raid based on information that Y/N had spent countless hours and sleepless nights collecting and deciphering was definitely one of those moments. Several tons of cocaine, crates of firearms, and multiple high-ranking and very wanted narcos had been seized with no casualties, along with new information about how Escobar was smuggling things in and out of Colombia. 

Even Carillo, who rarely ever smiled, had seen all the work Y/N had put into organizing the raid and was hiding a grin when he announced a celebratory dinner at a bar down the street from the embassy. Y/N was heading back to the police cruisers for a ride back to the embassy when Javier appeared suddenly at her side, his voice low and his hand sliding into her back pocket. 

“You have no idea how sexy you looked pointing a gun and shouting orders hermosa, I almost took you right then and there,” he whispered, leaning closer so that only she could hear him. Y/N could feel her cheeks heat and a spark tugging deep in her stomach. The two of them had been secretly seeing each other for over a year, not even clueing Murphy in on what they were behind closed doors. 

“Javier! What if someone sees us?” Y/N whispered harshly, although she wished she could lean into him and finally feel his hands on her properly after the long day they had had. His hands were always warm and soft against her skin, a juxtaposition from his perfectly calloused fingertips that would leave marks on her sides for weeks. The thought of him holding her up against the wall, bruising her thighs as he drew orgasm after orgasm from her was enough to make her feel an even more powerful surge of sparks in her abdomen. 

“Don’t worry hermosa, I’ll have you all to myself tonight,” Javier leaned into her neck and lightly bit down on the edge of her earlobe, sending shivers down her spine and intensifying the sparks in her core. Her eyes fluttered shut as Javier pulled away, walking in the opposite direction as if nothing had happened, a confident swagger in his gait. 

Y/N had to bite her lip to keep from moaning, now frustrated and wanting a certain someone between her legs, and it wasn’t until Carillo’s voice startled her out of her thoughts that Y/N took her eyes off of Javier and his immaculate frame. 

“You alright there Y/N? I thought you’d be heading back to get ready for tonight?” Carillo was an intimidating man, his shoulders and chest broad and a no-nonsense sort of look that was plastered on his face at all times. 

“Oh! Yes, um, I was just distracted for a moment, yes I’m heading back right now, I think I’m going to take a shower and get all of this grime off of me,” Y/N chuckled nervously before she rushed into one of the cruisers getting ready to leave for the embassy. She still had a couple hours before she had to arrive at the time Carillo had given everyone, and although Carillo was a stickler for punctuality, Y/N would still have time to unwind in the shower and prepare for the night. After all, if she wanted to spend the night with Javier like he had teased her earlier, she might as well make it worth her while. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N’s shower was the first time that she had been able to fully relax over the past few months. Almost all of her time had been spent pouring over evidence and tracking down witnesses and information, so the steam was a welcome treat for her aching muscles. Y/N stood beneath the rainfall setting of her shower, slowly kneading at the knots in her shoulders. She hadn’t realized just how long it had been since she had done something as indulgent as taking a hot shower for longer than 20 minutes. Her only true indulgence had been Javier’s company whenever they decided to spend the night together. After a long shower that was desperately needed, it didn’t take long to finish getting ready and begin the drive to the bar. 

It wasn’t a long drive, only about 10 minutes, but it gave Y/N the opportunity to listen to the radio and reflect. So much had happened within the two years that she had been working with the DEA in Colombia. The first 10 months or so had been filled with helping Javier and Murphy on cases, all while dealing with dangerous narcos and dodging the flirtatious advances of Javier. 

It wasn’t until Y/N had gotten shot in the stomach on one of their assignments that Javier had realized that the reason why he hadn’t been frequenting the best brothels of Bogota for the past couple months was because of Y/N. Only 4 weeks later, the two had begun secretly seeing each other after work, meeting up at restaurants where no one they knew could run into them. 

But Javier had promised that once Y/N had gotten her big break on a case, they would go together to HR and officially fill out the paperwork stating that they were a couple. Y/N had just gotten her big break on a case. She knew that the raid wouldn’t be the only thing that she would be celebrating that night.

~~~~~~~~~~

After a couple of drinks, everyone seemed to have loosened up and were engaged in loud conversation with one another. Y/N, however, kept glancing over to Javier, who was seated next to her. He always looked attractive, but Y/N could practically feel the sex appeal that was coming off of him in waves. He was wearing a button up with the top few buttons left open, revealing his smooth, tanned chest. She didn’t blame the lingering eyes of other women in the bar, after all, she had been one of them not too long ago. 

So far, they had been careful about any public displays of affection, but after the stunt that Javier had pulled back at the raid, Y/N decided to throw all caution to the wind. Carefully, she placed her hand on his knee under the table. She could feel how he tensed slightly under her touch before relaxing again. Y/N waited a few moments before she began slowly running her fingers up his thigh, taking her time to draw flowing patterns like vines.

It wasn’t until she was only a few inches away from his groin when his hand suddenly seized her wrist. He leaned in close, just as he had done at the raid, but this time there was an edge to his voice, like he was straining to get the words out. 

“What do you think you’re doing hermosa?” his words were almost like a growl with how deep his voice had gotten. 

Y/N blinked innocently at him, an expression that did not match what she was attempting to do with her hands. 

“What do you mean, Javi?” a smile was starting to spread across her face at Javier’s raised eyebrow. His grip tightened slightly around her wrist before he released her, standing up abruptly. Pulling an almost empty pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, he stalked off towards the back door of the bar, presumably to smoke in the back alley. 

Y/N had certainly gotten a reaction from him, he was always so… responsive beneath her touch. She would pay for it later though, a thought that had her mouth watering and her thighs clenching together. Recalling the memory of his face between her thighs or her front pressed against the balcony window as he pounded into her from behind, teasing her and forcing her over the edge more times than she could count was enough to make her desperate for his touch. 

Y/N waited until the song that was playing over the speakers had begun transitioning into the next before she stood to follow him. Y/N knew where to go, the door to the back alley was in the service hallway next to the bathrooms, a trip she had taken multiple times before for various drunken smoke breaks.

She almost had no time to react when she was suddenly pulled into one of the bathrooms and pushed up against the door, forcing the air out of her lungs. Javier’s mouth was on her neck within seconds, tracing the line of her jaw and down to her shoulder.

“Querida, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?” he murmured, his lips still tracing her neck. 

“Mmm, why don’t you show me, mi amor?

Javier’s lips were on hers within seconds, his hands roaming across her body like he couldn’t get enough of her touch and the feeling of her skin beneath his fingertips. 

Y/N couldn’t help but moan, Javier tasted of his usual whiskey and cigarettes, a combination that was always intoxicating to her. He wasted no time in beginning to unbutton the buttons of her blouse, trying to rid her of as much clothing as possible so that he could touch more of her. 

Their kiss quickly became frenzied, both of them chasing a high that only the other could give. Within moments, Javier’s hands were on Y/N’s waist, turning her around and pressing her up against the mirror covered wall.

“Look at how perfect you look for me querida, looking like a fucking angel for me,” Javier’s voice was deep and raspy as he mouthed kisses over her neck, slowly and with purpose.

Y/N used her arms to brace herself against the mirror, looking at her reflection through her lashes. She looked absolutely wrecked, her hair was a mess, lips puffy, and the heaving of her chest from her panting was on full display. Javier stood behind her, giving open mouth kisses to her neck as his large hands traveled up her abdomen, squeezing one of her breasts in his hand. 

“Look at how beautiful you look for me, hermosa,” his voice now a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. 

“Javi, please! Do something, I- I need you to touch me,” Y/N was pliable beneath his touch, she could feel his cock gliding over her folds, teasing her as she arched her back. 

Without warning, Javier thrust forward, sheathing himself within her in one, swift movement, forcing a gasp from her lips. He stilled for only a moment before setting a punishing pace. Each thrust drove deeper and harder into Y/N, slowly pulling her apart and driving all rationale from her. 

Y/N moaned as she watched their reflection in the mirror, her breasts bouncing with every thrust, the glimpse of Javier’s curls from behind her shoulder, the indentations of her waist where his fingers held her, and the way his cock looked every time he entered her. All of it made her stomach spark in arousal. 

With one particularly hard thrust, Y/N let out a cry, her arms giving out and her body pressing up against the cold mirror. She could see the condensation building from their gasping moans and the heat of their bodies. 

“Oh my god, Javier, r-right there, fuck-” a broken moan escaped her lips as he continued fucking into her, his fingers coming to grasp her thigh roughly.

“You like that princess? You like how I fuck you?” Javier growled, his hand pressing even deeper into the flesh of her thighs and waist.

“Yes, oh my god, yes!” Y/N’s moans echoed slightly off of the tiled walls. “God you feel so good, don’t stop Javi,”

“Always look like a fucking vision on my cock, don’t you? Always feel so fucking good for me, because you are all mine,” he said, biting down on her shoulder. A thin sheen of sweat was layered over Javier’s beautiful, tanned, olive skin, emphasizing the flexing of his muscles with every movement.

With his right hand, Javier threaded his fingers through her hair, grasping it in a vice-like hold at the back of her head, and roughly pulled her up so that they made eye contact through the mirror, Y/N’s mouth falling open in arousal at his actions. 

“Look at how gorgeous you look for me, coming apart on my cock,” Javi had a smirk on his face, like he knew that she was completely at his mercy. “You like it when I fuck you like this? In the bathroom while everyone thinks you’re out smoking?”

Y/N couldn’t even attempt to answer properly, her mind too clouded with euphoria and the building of her orgasm, each rigorous thrust pushing her further over the edge. 

“Come on, answer me amado, you like being fucked like this?” Javier’s brought his hand down in a firm slap to Y/N’s ass, drawing a shocked yelp from her lips. 

“Yes! Yes, I love it Javi, please I- I’m going to cum, don’t stop!”

It only took a few more thrusts before Javier’s hips began stuttering and losing their steady rhythm.

“Where do you want me querida?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper in her ear.

“Inside, please I want you inside me Javi,” her voice was a breathy moan, a sound which always drove Javier over the edge. 

Y/N’s orgasm washed over her, her vision temporarily going white from the euphoria she was experiencing. Only moments later, Javier’s low moan registered next to her ear as he came, filling her up with his cum. 

Javier was still pressed to Y/N’s back, both of them panting as they tried to catch their breaths.

“You always look so beautiful after I fuck you, mi alma, I swear its like you were sculpted by the gods,” Javier mumbled as he pressed gentle kisses to her shoulder, just like he always did after he made her fall apart beneath his touch. Y/N loved this Javi, this was the Javi who woke up early on the weekends to go to the farmers market to get fresh fruit for her, the Javi who danced slowly with her in his living room to his old vinyls, the Javi who no one else but she got to see. 

“Mmm, you always take such good care of me, amado,” Y/N was met with a soft grunt as Javier wrapped his arms around her midsection, pulling her even closer to his body. 

“I’m going to show you just how well I can take care of you tonight, after all, you deserve to be worshipped,” he said as he continued pressing kisses to wherever he could reach. Javier had always been soft and gentle after sex, after years of meaningless sex with informants and prostitutes, he craved the caring touch he only got when he was with Y/N. 

A comfortable silence passed between them before Javier slowly pulled out, his cum slowly beginning to drip down Y/N’s thighs. Y/N barely registered that Javier had taken a damp paper towel and was cleaning up the mess he had left inside her. 

Y/N turned, leaning back against the mirror to watch Javier as he began getting redressed. Only a moment later, he began redressing Y/N, tenderly moving her body to put on her blouse and skirt. 

Y/N hummed, her hand coming up to caress Javier’s cheek lovingly.

“See? Like I said, always taking such good care of me,”

A longing look crossed over Javier’s eyes before he took her face in his hands, pulling her into a slow, passionate kiss. When they finally parted from their sweet embrace, Javier rested his forehead against hers, letting his eyes flutter closed in content and happiness.

“Te amo, mi alma,”

“Te amo, Javier,”

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña smut #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #narcos #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #javier peña fanfic #javier peña fanfiction

[acourtofsnakes]

Solus - Rogue, Chapter 1| Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader(F)

Summary: So I don’t want to give too much away, but a rough outline - You are Force Sensitive, and after being hunted your whole life, you’re not surprised to find another Mandalorian on your tail. What you didn’t expect, was THIS Mandalorian. Nor anything that happen’s after. And so begins a journey of two Rogues (three if you count the womp rat). 

Warnings: Not many in this chapter as it’s an opening but, mentions of death, angst?, swearing, fighting, my rusty writing after I haven’t done it in years, let me know if there’s anything else!!

AN: So, I think this might be a little messy in terms of tenses. It jumps around from the past to present a little too, so I’m sorry if its confusing… Let me know what you think!! And if you want to be added to the taglist!

Word count: Just over 4k.

Rogue Masterlist | Introduction| 1: Solus| 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl

Rogue Taglist:  @snipskixandbeskar​ @weirdowithnobeardo

Mando’a translation: Solus - Alone

Alone.

That word had come to change its meaning over the years. When you were a small child, alone meant you were outside, playing in the grass and flowers with your parents just a few metres away indoors, within sight of you still. Close enough to come running should anything happen to you. Including that time you got stung by a bee and screamed so loudly the neighbours thought you were being raided.

A few years later, alone meant being shut away inside your room, windows closed, door firmly shut.

“It’s for your own safety, honey, you know what will happen… We don’t want this for you, we hate this, but we must keep you safe, my darling.”

You understood, of course. It was your own fault; you didn’t mean for it to happen… But just because you understood, it didn’t mean you had to like it.

A year on, alone changed properly for the first time.

The true meaning of the word hit you like a speeder when you were kneeling in the mess on the dusty ground.

Blood had soaked your knees, staining your tunic. It had coated your hands, your arms as you frantically shook the shoulders of your mother, willing her to open her eyes, to sit up and hold you. To stroke your hair and tell you it was okay, it was all just a bad dream. To take you home, where you could forget this whole thing.

It didn’t truly sink in until you heard your fathers strangled scream as he ran around the corner…

And then the sickening hiss and sizzle as the blaster hit him square in the chest. The way he tried to crawl across the ground to you and your mother, but there was a heavy white boot planted firmly in his back, a gloved hand yanking his head up and a vibroblade sliced across his throat.

His blood had coated your own bare feet as you ran to him.

You were only 12.

From that moment on… you were truly alone. No family. No more friends, they had all left when you showed them your power. Such a beautiful, natural thing, being in line with the Earth, the energy that connected all living things. It was rare, meant to be celebrated…

Instead, it just bought death upon those you loved.

So, as you ran from the horror scene within the market square, your parents blood baking onto your skin in the hot sun, you buried it. Deep inside, locking it in a box, surrounding it in darkness and keeping it hidden.

And that’s where it had stayed for the last 20 years.

~~~

Sorgan was a good place to be for a little while.

The air was breathable, the forests thick and lush, providing good cover, and the inhabitants were spread few and far between. It was quiet, the only habitable planet in its system, in fact, so it was… safe?

Well. That’s what you had told yourself when you made the split decision to come here after somehow managing to stow away on a ship that just happened to be going there.

You’d just been attacked by a Trandoshan bounty hunter, chased halfway across the planet you were on and forced to dump most of the belongings you’d managed to acquire for yourself in an effort to get away. The green lizard humanoid was… beyond eager. Hunting was their way of life, they thrived on the ritual of it and this one was no different. He was relentless. Constantly tasting the air for your scent with that disgusting flickering tongue. He’d even licked your neck once and you thought you might throw up all over his weird, scaly body. 

It had gone on for more than a week before you decided to try and get the jump on him. You laid a trap, using his eagerness against him and it had worked…. Mostly. You fought, hard, managed to sever his arm and you were just going in for the kill when out of nowhere the tables turned. Knocking away your weapons, he’d pinned you to the ground, a wickedly sharp blade pushing into your shoulder and scraping bone.

He took one look at you, battered, exhausted, blood soaking your shoulder and burst out laughing, preening in glee that he’d finally caught you, finally managed to capture the girl everyone wanted (you hadn’t bothered to ask if he was employed by the Republic or the Imperials. At this point, it didn’t matter anymore).

What he failed to notice in his gloating, was the vibroblade you pulled from the sheath on your thigh. One moment, he was laughing, the next, his head was thudding onto the ground next to your own, mouth still open in glee, reptilian tongue lolling out.

The next hour or so had been a blur, making your way through the town again, cloak pulled up over your head and over your shoulder to hide the wound. You’d managed to steal cloth and a tincture from a street vendor, binding and cleaning the knife wound whilst hiding in a small alley. It was there that you saw the ship, only a small cargo ship, the door left open. You’d slipped in like a ghost, settling between some crates of unidentifiable objects and let yourself slump, adrenaline leaving your body, leaving it shattered and full of pain. Too close. You’d almost been caught and taken back Maker knows where. Luckily you had that blade, one you’d stolen from an Imp a couple years back after he’d tried to capture you.

As you hid in the cargo hold, you heard the co-pilot ask about the turquoise planet.

“Sorgan? Why Sorgan? That place is beyond boring. I’m surprised the people living there haven’t started a war just for something to do.”

The pilot had laughed, “You’re right there. Barely anyone comes out here anymore. Most people don’t even remember it’s here.”

That suited you just fine then. A mostly empty planet with a krill-fishing village that kept to itself, swamps and forests… hey, maybe you’d finally get a chance to relax.

Since then, you’d found a little place in the forest, up high in some clustered branches, near a source of running water. It was high enough to stay out of the way of predators, but close enough to the ground that you’d be able to spot any enemies – and get away quickly.

You’d even made a friend here.

Well… sort of.

Your first night on the planet, you were trekking through the forests when your legs had just… given out. You were spent, mentally and physically, blood pooling through your fingers from the knife wound which had since opened up again. As you lay there, staring through the canopy, you decided that maybe this was it now. Maybe it was time to give up the fight.

You had been running for so long, it was a way of life now. Had more injuries than you could count and been hunted by twice as many people. Hunters and mercenaries of all species and origin, IG-11 droids, the occasional Imp or New Republic official, even a Mandalorian once – that one had been bad. You’d had to give in after you killed him and go to a hospital, he’d left a blaster hole in your thigh so deep you could see bone.

It was quiet here, peaceful, you remembered.  The treetops had begun to blur and swoop under you as you came to your decision.

I’m sorry, mumma, I’m sorry, papa. I tried, but I can’t do it anymore.

You had closed your eyes, giving into the darkness with a final goodbye and letting it wash over you like a tidal wave.

Only to be woken up what felt like seconds later by a wet nose and furry face pushing against your hand. Lifting your head, you’d blinked away the blurriness to find a rounded, big eared head resting on your hand. A Loth cat. It appeared that you’d gotten yourself a little friend.

Since then, she hadn’t left your side, following you everywhere, climbing up the trees and curling up on your lap of a night. You weren’t sure what had drawn her to you, but… it was the first companion you’d had in such a long time, and her warm body against yours was such a comforting feeling that you couldn’t bear to part with her.

That was a few weeks ago.

Nothing had happened in those few weeks. No fighting, no threats, no beeping of tracking fobs waking you in the night and sending you hurtling for the trees.

Nothing but trees, swamps and your furry little friend that you’d called Duru, after a childhood friend.

The only thing bothering you at this point, was your arm. You’d managed to smuggle some herbs from an apothecary hut in the fishing village, but it wasn’t healing properly. The wound had sealed, but it ached. Insistently. Some days it wasn’t too bad, but most of the time, it caused you enough grief that you struggled to grip anything. It was just lucky it was your non-dominant side.

A small groan left your lips as you rubbed at the skin around the wound, perched on a low branch, watching the village. The string of your bow dug into it, sending small shockwaves down your nerves and making your hand spasm. You shifted the bowstring, curling your hand into a fist and releasing it again to get some feeling back into it, an absent action as you just watched the day-to-day life of the village.

It soothed you in a way, just watching people go about their daily lives, how each person had a part to play. Even though you hadn’t met any of them and doubted they knew you were there, you liked and respected them nonetheless. So, whenever you snuck into the village for supplies, you always left something in return. Prey you’d shot down in the forest for food, herbs you’d gathered, fish you’d caught. Just a small way to say thank you to the for keeping you safe, even if they didn’t know it.

You weren’t sure how long you had been sat there for, eyes closed, one leg dangling from the branch and just enjoying the sunlight on your face, the cool and faintly briny breeze when Duru suddenly shot to her feet, a low growl rumbling from her throat. Your eyes snapped open in an instant, bow drawn and pointing into the forest, ignoring the lick of pain as your shoulder protested.

You scanned the branches, the ground below but… nothing. There was no-one there, but Duru was still staring, eyes fixed on something you couldn’t see. You huffed, leaning back against the trunk. She probably just saw a bird or a bug or something.

Still, you remained on edge for the rest of the afternoon, your hand flying to the hilt of your knife at every little crack of branches or whisper through the trees.

It took you a long time to sleep that night, but your body eventually gave in and fell into a somewhat fitful slumber, hand still resting on your bow just in case.

---

Beep.

Beep.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Beep. Bee-

Within seconds, your eyes shot open and you were bolt upright. You knew that noise.

Instinct took over and you grabbed Duru, urging her still sleepy body onto your shoulders as you scrambled down the tree trunk… only to fall the last metre because of your shoulder.

Stifling the cry of pain, you shot back to your feet and took off running, in the opposite direction of that noise.

You’d been too relaxed, let your guard slip down too much here. You should have left the second Duru went on alert last night. Of course, her instincts were so much better than yours, but you ignored it. Like a fucking fool.

The curses kept slipping from your lips as you ran, not daring to see who was behind you just yet. Maybe you’d get lucky, maybe it was just a normal hunter, looking for a big job, not realising the countless that came before him or her. Or it.

You almost laughed to yourself as you zig-zagged through the trees, feet flying over the undergrowth.Maker, you had to get off this planet, it was making you too lax.

The predator’s presence was like a dark cloud behind you, slipping through the trees, lapping at your heels every time you thought you had gotten away. Trees and branches whipped past your face, stinging but you didn’t have time to brush them away. You didn’t even have time to turn your bow and shoot an arrow, the hunter was just that close. Your brain worked frantically, seeking for a way out, an escape, a distraction, anything.

Wait.

A distraction.

You cursed yourself again, drawing in a ragged gasp of air into your aching lungs as you fumbled at your belt. You had a small flash grenade in a pouch on your belt. You used to have three, you’d had them for years and only used them for dire situations. Like this one, you just need a distraction, even for just a few seconds to get up into a tree.

Duru dug her claws into your shoulders for grip – ow, claws -  as you activated the grenade and threw it over your bad shoulder without even turning around. The hunter was so close behind you, you knew it would work no matter where you aimed.

As the grenade exploded into light, you shielded both your eyes and Duru’s with the hood of your cloak, putting on a burst of speed and adrenaline and you bolted for a tree to your left, practically flying up into the canopy. Without hesitation, you began to make your way through the trees, almost sobbing with relief to the Maker that the branches intersect and cross over so that you can make your way across them.

After about 10 minutes of moving through the air, you stopped, hunkering down against the trunk of a huge willow tree as you tried to haul air into your lungs, whilst staying quiet. The pain in your shoulder nearly brought tears to your eyes, the ache in your chest but you stayed still, breathing in through your nose slowly, then out through your mouth, massaging the stitch in your side.

Was the hunter still all that way back? Was he looking for you on the ground? Maybe he was in the trees too, opposite you, watching and waiting to-

“You can’t hide from me.”

The voice came from below and somewhere to the right, a few metres away. On the ground then. The voice sounded male, a little distorted, but that may have just been the roaring of blood in your ears.

You barely breathed, scanning your surrounds and slowly rising to a crouch on the branch, calming your body into a hunters pace of your own. Slow, even movements, balancing your weight as you crept around the tree to a branch on the other side.

Even Duru was silent, hunkering around your neck, her head barely peeping out of your cloak.

“You might have evaded all the others, but you can’t run. Not from me.”

Typical. You rolled your eyes as you slipped along the branches like a phantom. Another hunter thinking he’d get the glory because he captured you. The faint call of fear in your blood quietened as you realised he was just like the others.

Let him gloat, you thought. He could be dispatched as easy as the ugly reptile last time. And his tongue. 

You kept your ears pricked as you eased over to the next tree, but you couldn’t hear him. Obviously trying to get the jump on you. You let out a silent laugh as you reached the adjoining tree and began to descend.

“I can bring you in warm. Or I can bring you in cold.”

You froze, going rigid, praying the leaves would hide you as one foot dangled in the air. He was right underneath you.

You dared a glance down, finally looking at your current attacker and…

Nearly fell from the tree.

Standing on the ground below you, pulse rifle pointed at you was a tall figure. Decked out in beskar armour so shiny you could have done your hair in it, the infamous helmet covering his face, tilted in an almost casual, cocky expression.

A Mandalorian.

The Mandalorian.

You’d heard whispers of this one. That beskar armour, more than any other Mandalorian has ever laid their hands on, paid for by the collection of a high-stakes bounty. A bounty which he stole back, from the hands of The Client and Stormtrooper bodyguards, breaking Guild code and going on the run. Wanted by The Galactic Empire, The Guild, and countless others, he became a rogue, travelling the Outer Rim with his little green child in tow, completing jobs and missions for normal people, all the while being hunted himself by Moff Gideon. He was relentless, one of the best, not hesitating to kill if someone threatened him or the Child.

Someone obviously wants you very, very badly, to call upon a wanted man to track you down.

And he obviously wants to bring you in just as much, to take the risk of this hunt. You briefly wonder just how much he’s being offered.

Fuck. You’re really screwed now, aren’t you?

All of this flashed through your mind in an instant, as your arm shook with the pull of your body weight on the wound. You made as if to move, put suddenly he’s there before you’ve even let your foot drop, a gloved hand grabbing the bottom of your cloak and yanking you to the ground with a thud. Duru made a yowl of protest, springing off your shoulder and into the trees, which you were relieved about because at least she’d be safe.

Twisting to avoid putting weight on your bad shoulder, you bared your teeth at him in a grin, “I bet you use that line on all the ladies, don’t you?”

Really?? This man, this Mandalorian was going to either kill or take you, and you were trying to flirt with him??

Shaking your head at yourself, you rose to your feet, grabbing your bow, thankful you spent 4 years saving the credits for it. It was made of a strong but flexible metal, perfectly shaped for your height, as familiar to you as your own arm. Its edges were razor sharp, a knifes edge. You spun, swinging it toward him and it lightly clanged as it met the armour on his forearm, the vibration skittering down your arm.

The Mandalorian lifted his other hand, a knife in it that he guided toward your side, “Only the ones that have a bigger bounty than I’ve ever seen on their head.”

You quickly jumped back, but not before he caught you, cutting through the fabric of your tunic and opening a small cut just under your ribs. “Ooh, now we’re onto flattery so soon? Careful, Mandalorian, I’d think you were trying to woo me, not kill me.” You flung out with your bow again, only to have him grab it, yanking it out of your grip and throwing it to the side.

Mandalorian made a faint noise, whether it was disgust or exasperation you didn’t know, “You talk too much” He came at you again, a flurry of fists and kicks that were almost too quick for you, making you realise that you weren’t just fighting some cocky hunter.

This was possibly the most dangerous Mandalorian out there, save for Boba Fett. He wasn’t going to let this go. You were a good fighter, excellent, even, but as you both danced a routine of attack and defence across the clearing, you realised… you just might not walk away from this.

You panted, ducking under his arm as he swung for you. Maybe… maybe you could go and seek help in the village, you could hide in a hut or a boat, beg them to take you in.

It was like he read your mind, seeing what you were planning to do, “Really? You’d lead me into the villages? Haven’t enough people died for you already?” His voice was like a rasp as it come out through the modulator, cutting straight through the clarity of the fight and into your heart, making you pause.

How did he know that? Your parents were common knowledge within the hunters of course, nearly everyone knew, but everyone else, those that tried to hide you…

~“Run!!! Y/N, run. Don’t look back, whatever you see, whatever you hear you must promise me you will not look back.”~

A hard impact to your jaw made you stumble backwards, dragging yourself back to the present. Asshole. He’d distracted you. “You’re talking to me about death? How many have you killed, Mandalorian?” You kicked out at his knee, your boot connected just under the plate that covered his thigh and he partially went down.

The Mandalorian grunted as he rose back to his feet, “I’ve killed, yes. But criminals. Murderers. People who deserve it. I haven’t killed innocent people.” He came for you again, fists up and his blaster out this time

You couldn’t help the shocked laugh as you avoided his advances, slashing out with another small knife, grinning when it found home in his shoulder, “You haven’t? What about all the Jedi your little clan murdered?” You spat out the word clan, punching him hard, ignoring the protest your knuckles made at the impact of the beskar. “You didn’t understand a people, so your first instinct was to slaughter them like animals.”

You could almost feel the frown behind the T-visor of his helmet, “That was before me, I was never a part of the war. And why do you care about the Jedi?”

~“Mumma!! I’m not leaving you!! I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, this is my fault, I shouldn’t have done anything, I’m sorry!!”

“Shhh, shhh, my darling. It’s alright. They just don’t understand you, that’s all. Which is why you have to run, you must go and find your father and be safe, please.”

“There she is!!! Over there! Kill anyone that tries to protect her”~

You hesitated, lost in memories of the past, explosions, screaming and blood. So much blood…

He shot out a grappling line from his vambrace and it wrapped around your ankle and he pulled you off balance and to the ground, again. Weapons made specifically to combat Jedi, people with the same abilities as you, reminding you just how hunted you were. He rose to his feet, walking over to you, “I don’t know why they want you. I don’t know what you’ve done. I don’t care. I just know that you’re a criminal, you’re wanted, and the price on your head is nearly as big as mine.”

You snarled at him, reaching for your vibrobrade and pulling it from your thigh.

He just sighed, kicking it from your hand with one foot easily and at the same time he jammed the end of his rifle against your shoulder, already having marked it as a weakness.

A howl of rage and pain ripped through your gritted teeth, and the edges of your vision started to go black. It was broken by the helmet coming into your eyesight, the moon bouncing off the surface, “Give in. You can’t win. Even if you beat me, more and more people will just keep coming after you.” His voice had turned to honey on a knife edge, persuasive. Wrong.

Right.

You shook your head, as if trying to shake off his words, deny the truth of it even as tears started to burn the back of your eyes. You arched your back from the floor, trying to get up, trying to shift his knee off of you but he was like a damn rock on you, pinning you to the floor. “Fuck off, you’re just as heartless as the rest of them.”

Your power cried out to be used, begged form that place buried deep within you, but you pushed it down. You wouldn’t, couldn’t. Instead, you swallowed, lifting your head and opening your mouth to scream.

Only for his hand to wrap around your throat, his fingers lightly pushing against you. It wasn’t enough to strangle you, or cut off your air supply, but the squeeze of his fingers was enough to warn you that he would do it if you tried to alert the villagers. The Mandalorian leaned down, close enough that you could see your reflection in the black visor. More honey dripped from that voice, worming into your head, your defences.

“More people will die for you. And I don’t think you want that. I won’t touch those villagers, but anyone after me might not be so lenient.” He tilted that stupid helmet, merely watching you struggle with another light squeeze around your throat, another slight prod into your shoulder.

~Explosions lit up the market, local people screaming and running for cover as spices and fruit flew through the air. You choked, searching through the smoke, until your bare feet landed in something warm and wet. Blood.~

As you glared up into the unrelenting metal, you caught your own reflections eyes. Bruised. Battered, snarling. A danger to anyone you came near. How many people had died because of you? Either directly or indirectly? All because you kept running. Maybe you just didn’t deserve it. Deserved to live freely. And hell, you were so tired. 20 years on the run, more if you count the years with your parents. Always having to look over your shoulder, never being able to completely trust another living person. The closest thing you’ve had to a friend in the last 5 years is a Loth cat, and even she left.

It was time to just… give in.

~“Mumma? Mumma wake up, please wake up. You have to, you have to get up, please mumma, PLEASE!!”~

You couldn’t do it anymore.

I’m sorry.

The Mandalorian saw the defeat in your eyes, the way your body slumped into the ground, your muscles relaxed. As a tear rolled down your cheek, you took one last glance at the stars, so you didn’t see him hesitate for just a second before using the shock of his rifle to knock you into darkness.

Next chapter

#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #din djarin #Pedro pascal #Pedro Pascal x you #Pedro Pascal x reader #star wars

[lorelexi]

Too Bad I'm not Heather

"There were a few things that Kuroo Tetsuro found that he loved, and when he did, his eyes would brighten up. Some of these things included volleyball, Kenma, stupid chemistry jokes, and now, Heather.

There were a few things that Kuroo Tetsuro loved, and you were not one of them."

Word Count: 3.2K

Genre: angst

A/N: this is based off of the lyrics to the song "Heather" by Conan Gray. I'm trying to work on writing longer fics so here's my first attempt 😬

☆

The December air nipped at your cheeks and at the tip of your nose. Winter was quickly approaching and you mentally prepared yourself for the upcoming weeks when the first snow of the season would finally fall. You regret not having worn a real coat over your uniform blazer as you rubbed your hands up and down your arms, hoping the friction would create enough warmth to suffice for the lack of fabric covering your body.It was only the 3rd day of December but with every day that passed, it became increasingly colder. Just a week ago your winter uniform and a scarf would have been enough to get you through the day but now, you were sure your nose was gonna grow icicles from how cold it was. Nevertheless it was too late to turn back now, you were more than halfway to school at this point so you were just going to have to deal with some shivers for the rest of the day.

The closer that you got to the school, the faster you willed your legs to move, eager to get into a warm classroom as soon as you could. As the gates of the school came into view, so did a flood of students who-like you- likely longed for the warmth of their respective classrooms. 

With hands still making weak attempts at keeping your arms and torso warm, you let your eyes scan over the crowd and toward the gym, searching for a familiar head of messy black hair.

Almost as if on cue, the boy you searched for stepped out of the boys gym, following behind the group of his more rowdy friends, jumping around and heading their separate ways to their respective buildings and classes.

“Kuroo!” You call out his name and his head turns to look toward the sound of your voice, with a smile.

He stands in his place and waits for you to come to a halt in front him.

“What on earth-” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth when he sees you up close. He even has the nerve to laugh a little, a smirk adorning his face. A smirk that sends chills down your spine, that are arguably worse than those from the cold. 

“You look like you've been stuck in a freezer for the past hour. If you shiver any harder you might knock yourself out yn.”

“Shut up, Kuroo. Some of us did not have the privilege of being in a warm gym for the greater part of the morning.” you pouted up at him, your hands finally coming to a stop, now just resting on your arms.

“Well where’s your coat? That could have decreased your problem by like at least 40%” He inspected your outfit and gazed up at you pointedly.

“40%?” You remarked with an eyebrow raised, ignoring how you involuntarily swallowed hard at the way that he looked over your form.

“I don’t know.” he laughed. “I’m just tossing up percentages.” 

You rolled your eyes at this and he shook his head and spoke before you could start to tease him.

“That’s off topic though. Your coat?” 

Tossing your head to the side you opted to blankly watch the other students walk by you than to look at him any longer.”I didn’t think it would be this cold today, and by the time I realized I might need a coat, I was already nearly half way here. I decided that I’d rather be cold than late.”

Kuroo sighed, “I shouldn’t even be surprised. When are you ever prepared for anything.”

The moment the words left his mouth and traveled to your ears, your face scrunched up and you whipped your head around to glare at him. “Hey! That’s not even true Kur-”

A hand being placed on your head stopped your sentence in its tracks.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” he paused for a moment before removing his hand from your head. “Hold this.” he commanded abruptly, practically throwing his bag at you. 

You were too busy huffing to even think about why Kuroo was taking off his sweater.

“Here, I’ll trade you.” He took his bag back from you and placed his sweater in your hands in return.

You looked down at the dark blue fabric in your hands. “Hey, wait-”

“Nope! Shhhh. I already know what you’re going to say. ‘Oh thank you Kuroo, my dearest friend, you’re so kind, how would I ever live without you.’ Really, it’s okay, there’s no need to thank me.” He dismissed your protest with a wave of his hand as he began to walk toward the main building where both of your classes were.

As you watched his slowly retreating figure, you pretty much gave up any further protest knowing he was going to insist on you wearing his sweater anyway. Putting your arms through his sweater and adjusting your bag on our shoulder, you ran to catch up to him.

The two of you walked side by side for a few minutes, talking about your class activities and how his volleyball practice went.It didn’t last long however. Not after he saw her walking up about 20 feet ahead of you.

Kuroo’s eyes widened and he hurriedly wrapped up the conversation you'd been having.

“Hey, I see Heather up there, I’m gonna go catch up and head to my class, but I’ll see you later okay?” He didn’t actually give you any time to respond before he was running toward her, matching her strides when he finally caught up beside her.

Heather was a girl in Kuroo’s class. They hadn't been friends for that long but even then, it didn't take very long for them to start hanging out more often. Whether it was in school or out of it, it was like she was just constantly in his thoughts. You thought back bitterly on all of the times that he’d been texting her when he was supposed to be spending time with you.

You knew it was none of your business, but you couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your stomach when you saw the way he looked at her.

There were a few things that Kuroo Tetsuro found joy in, and when he did, his eyes would brighten up and there was something warm that swirled through them.. The gold of his eyes gleamed and you could almost see the joy radiating off of them. Often you’d see this happen when he played volleyball, or when he got kenma to laugh at a particular stupid chemistry joke; there’d even been times when he’d looked at you with those eyes.

You weren’t even sure if he knew he was doing it. If he knew just how mesmerising this look was. You’re sure that if you brought it up, he would deny it, but it’s the same look- the same glimmer in his eyes-when he looks at her.

☆

It’s mid-March now. Winter had come and gone, and as the seasons changed, so did your relationship with Kuroo. 

December third was the day when you first noticed the way his eyes brightened whenever he looked at Heather. December third. That one stupid day was the exact moment that it all started to go downhill for you.

You and Kuroo slowly stopped hanging out as much. If he wasn’t with Kenma, he was probably with her. He stopped walking home with you and he stopped waiting for you in between classes. Now, those were things that he did for her.

Given all of these things, it was no surprise to anyone who’d had the opportunity to see them in the halls, or in the courtyard-or literally anywhere- that they started dating not long after winter began.

It was a frustrating thing to watch. To watch her slowly gain everything that was yours while it slipped away from your fingers at a rate that was much too fast for your liking.

You’d spent the majority of your friendship with Kuroo harboring feelings for him. Part of you always hoped that it would work out some day; that one day he’d finally realize just how much you liked him, and that then you’d finally get what you had been hoping for for the past few years.

But that’s not how life works, so you tried to make yourself feel better. You tried telling yourself that you should have known that it would never work out.

Why would it? She was everything you weren’t.

You tried to focus all of your effort into trying to ignore the feelings you had for him. Whenever anyone asked you what was wrong, you’d dismiss them, making up some excuse about being tired or distracted by your classes. Everyone knew what was going on, you missed the pitied glances that they threw your way whenever you saw Kuroo with Heather, or whenever he’d talk about her during practice or when you all were hanging out.

All you wanted was for Kuroo to be happy. If him being happy meant him being with her, instead of you, then you would just have to get over yourself and let him be.

As time passed you got better at it. You’re almost certain that the feelings you held for him never truly went away, but rather you just forced them into hiding. 

It was something that you figured you may be able to do until Kuroo decided to finally just stop talking to you all together, but the limits of your willpower were tested every time Heather passed you in the hall-offering you a wave and a smile- while she wore Kuroo’s sweater. That same sweater he’d given to you all those months ago. 

But it wasn’t December anymore. It was almost spring now, and whatever you had with Kuroo, he left behind in the cold.

☆

This series had continued for months. The more time that had passed since Kuroo and Heather had started dating, the further he got away from you. You had originally hoped that you two would remain friends after they’d started dating, thinking that nothing would change too drastically, but you were wrong. The more time you spent around them, the more it hurt you. Eventually you started to push yourself away from Kuroo almost entirely- even further than he had unintentionally pushed you. Being around them hurt you too much and you decided it was just better if you kept yourself out of his life as much as possible.

Honestly you would have said you had been doing an alright job at it. You avoided Kuroo as much as possible and tried to stop thinking about him, but when graduation rolled around, coach Nekomata decided to do something nice in honor of the third years. A nice graduation dinner was planned and it was made clear to you by your friends and the coach himself that you were more than welcome to join them.

You denied at first, wanting to spare yourself the inevitable sight of Kuroo and Heather being all mushy together, but you were somehow convinced to go by a few of the boys saying something about it being their last opportunity to hang out with you before you graduated.

It was a cute set up, despite being in the boy’s gym, the decorations and lights that adorned the walls in nekoma’s signature colors did a lot to provide a nice an simple atmosphere, contrary to the loud sounds of squeaking shoes and volleyballs hitting the floor that usually bounced off of these walls.

Staying close to Lev and Yamamoto for most of the night-too scared to be near Yaku or Kenma in fear of attracting Kuroo- you watched the team have a good time and focused your attention on anything that wasn’t Kuroo, with his arm wrapped around Heather’s shoulder.

Much to your surprise, most of the night had passed with little to no interaction with Kuroo despite the close confines of both of you being in the gym for this long.

You let out a small sigh of relief at the thought of not having to go through TOO much torment tonight. Just watching them was enough heartache.

Unfortunately it seemed that your sigh of relief jinxed whatever you had going for you that night, because then Kuroo walked right up to you, a lopsided smile adorning his features

You hated the way that he walked, looking so effortly attractive, having absolutely no idea that each step further that he walked was another piece of your heart being chipped away.

Your chest felt heavy and your throat felt dry when he finally stopped in front of you.

“Hey y/n, how’s it going?” The absolute shamelessness and ignorance of the way his words made you feel began to anger you.

Without saying anything you simply glared at Kuroo with an expression that nearly screamed to be left alone.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He let out a light laugh recalling the way that your face reminded him of the way that Kenma would look at him when he bothered him while playing a new videogame.

“We haven’t really hung out much at all lately, let’s catch up.”

“I would rather not right now.” Your shoulders hunched, attempting to make yourself small under his gaze.

“Why not?” Oblivious. “I’d say now is the perfect time to catch up.Y'know before we graduate and such.” He shrugged, tilting his cup of soda, watching the liquid swirl.

“Whatever,” You huffed. You were starting to get more and more annoyed the more he spoke. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be right now?” Your eyes finally met his, your challenging glare attempting to pierce through the oblivious air that surrounded him. You just wanted him to get the hint and leave you alone.

“No?” Clearly your plan wasn’t working.

“What about your little girlfriend?” you sneered.

“Uh, she's fine? She's talking to Kai right now.” Kuroo was extremely smart-one of the smartest you knew- but his inability to understand you in this moment was infuriating.

You weren’t sure if he really didn’t have any clue what was going on, or if he was just playing dumb, attempting to avoid ever bringing it up or talking about it. The latter seemed much more likely, he was probably just trying to spare your feelings. Although that didn’t explain why he was so intent on speaking with you now despite your fairly clear reluctance to carry the conversation.

Thoughts spiraling in your head, you finally cracked.

“Oh my god Kuroo! Can you just leave me alone!? Please.” The room became quiet at the sound of your exclamation.

Without much thought to your belongings, you hastily rushed out of the gym to avoid the prying eyes that loomed around you.

Once outside, you stood in silence for about 30 seconds, berating yourself for losing your cool now, of all times, after all the time you had spent working to keep yourself together, holding everything in.

Head in your hands, and eyes shut tight, you heard footsteps approach you slowly. When they came to a halt behind you, a voice accompanied them.

“Hey, what happened back there?” Kuroo tossed his head back toward the building, referring to what had just gone down inside.

“If something is going on you know you can talk to me about it right?” He looked at you with eyes that flooded with concern, but you didn’t even have it in you to revel in the attentiveness of his actions.

You whipped around to face him quickly, eyebrows scrunched together, a frown evident on your face, and feelings and thoughts of frustration quickly bubbling up and past your throat before you could even think to stop them.

“Oh come on Kuroo. Don’t do that.” you shook your head at him incredulously. “Don’t act like you have no clue what’s going on.”

Kuroo looked taken aback by the aggressiveness of your voice.

“What do you mean ‘act’?” he retorted. “I have no clue what the hell has been going on with you lately. We never hang out anymore and you never seem like you want to talk to me or be near me anymore, so what’s your deal y/n?”

The way he said it, more like a demand than an actual question, broke the dam you had been desperately trying to keep back even after your little outburst in the gym.

“It’s because I like you stupid! I’m in love with you!” your hands remained close to your sides, fists clenched as you continued to plead with him. “And I know that I shouldn’t be because I know how happy you are with her but it’s just so frustrating.”

The words fell past your lips and you ducked your head down, hoping to hide away from him the frustrated tears that pecked your waterline. “Do you understand how hard it was to just watch you fall totally head over heels with someone who I knew I could never be?” your voice faltered and you felt yourself crumple more when the words from your mouth met your ears.“I can’t even stand to be near you when I know it’s not me that you’re with. God, I don’t even know why I ever thought that I’d even have any sliver of a chance with you. Obviously you'd choose someone like her. She’s popular, she’s nice, she’s in your class so she's obviously way smarter than me too, and to top it all off, she’s definitely prettier than me. I’m not even nearly half as pretty as her. I was stupid to think that I’d ever be anything that you wanted.”

Standing there, defeated, you began to rub the tears away from your eyes.

Kuroo didn’t even say anything. He just stood there.Whether in shock, or pity, or empathy, you didn’t know. You weren’t even really sure you wanted him to say anything. In your perfect world maybe he would have wiped away your tears and told you that he’d loved you all along.

There was no use thinking about it anyway. It wasn’t going to change the reality that he chose her over you. He chose her and not you.

And so you walked away that night outside the gym, brushing past Kuroo without a word, back into the building where you avoided meeting the stares of your friends, grabbing your things and heading toward the door, ignoring the few calls of our name from those who wanted to make sure you were okay.

You walked home alone that night. It hadn’t been the first time, and it likely wouldn’t be the last, but the loneliness and the ache in your heart felt different this time. Because now you knew for sure that you were never and that you would never be Kuroo Tetsuro’s first choice.

It’s too bad you’re not Heather.

#kuroo x reader #kuroo x y/n #hq kuroo #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfic

[thejosh1980]

Little Wing

(Trigger warning: animal/pet death)

Today, right now, I am sat at the spot where Mijo felt his last sunrise, just 24 hours ago.

He was 28 weeks old, he spent 20 of those weeks with me, and my family. He was my family. He was thrust upon me by my wife and mum, who knew Mijo would be the kind of birthday present I'd want, but could never ask for.

When he arrived he was unexpected. Straight from the car, into my bedroom, onto my lap, what a surprise, it was love at first sight. Those eyes, that tail, that round belly, the fur, I was all in. I had to say goodbye to 4 beautiful pets whom I loved dearly when I left Germany, so then and there I made a quiet, whisper promise to Mijo;

“I'll never ever leave you”...

We began like any other Daddy and cat story, playing, eating, talking to each other. We may have made a few messes on the bed learning to potty train, but I couldn't really fault him, he was perfect. He loved cuddles, got under our feet all the time, talked to us a lot and wanted to be a part of everything happening around the house.

He meowed very loudly too. Sometimes he'd meow from the next room sounding lost and worried. That's when I started to realized something was very different about him. It took about 2 weeks, but then I realized, he was totally deaf!!!! No vacuum cleaner, loud bangs, claps, or door slams could get his attention. When he meowed loudly, it was either because he had to, to feel himself meowing in his head, or he was missing us and could smell us, but not hear us in the next room. I had never had a cat who couldn't hear me call their name, so this was going to be a challenge.

Mijo accepted that challenge...

In a short time I figured out how to clicker train him, using a torch. I love training cats. Most folks think it's impossible, but I've taught cats to fetch, sit and come on command in the past.... So, pretty soon I had him jumping up, over and across chairs and tables on cue. I also learnt a way to “call” him; assuming he could see me, if I knelt down and tapped my leg, he'd come a running. Every time. We had it all figured out.

Grab a harness and a lead, and off we go, walking around the garden. This wasn't a cat, this was a dog. He had very little fear, I mean, he couldn't even hear the birds making a racket or the car driving by or the dog barking next door. He was fixated on me.

I bought him a blow up boat, to use in the pool, to help him get used to floating on water. It was a huge boat for his little size, but he'd hop in, and I'd “treat” him while he got used to the motion. The plan was to build him up to a real boat, or canoe or SUP. I could imagine him walking on water.

He was also great with other cats, so I could take him to visit his cousin and they'd play all day (if we'd let them). He'd come with me to visit other family and then... well, then the real adventures started. Mijo and I could go to the river, the park and the beach. We also went for coffee at the busiest part in the local village, and he took it all in his stride. We took bike rides too, as he sat in a special backpack I had for him. I could hold him while skateboarding or put him on my shoulder as I walked around. He was chill, happy to see and smell his silent world.

When Alex or I came home, and he'd be in the bedroom snoozing or gazing out the window, we could come in, take off our shoes, put our stuff down, maybe run to the loo, then we could snuggle up with him, cause he hadn't heard us arrive. He would just be waiting... He'd just wait for someone to step close enough, blow on his ear, feel a vibration and then he'd meow a big BIG hello, purr and snuggle. He was a no pressure cat... But always ready for hugs and pats.

Besides being deaf, he just didn't seem like any other cat I'd had or even met...

But isn't the way it is with all pets? They're all unique.

He loved Alex. He always had a hard decision between my lap and hers, or sleeping close to one or the other. We had a son to take care of, to love and to enjoy. At the beginning, Alex wasn't sure about having a cat, she'd pretty much always been a dog person, but it didn't take long for Mijo to wrap her around his little paw. She was hooked.

We thought he was going to be grow up to become a big boy. You know, Maine Coon sized 5-6 or maybe 7 kilo. We had high hopes for a dog-like cat, big enough to take on the world. We wanted to show him the world too.

After he had his snip (desexing) in mid March, he wasn't very well, and it really traumatized all of us, we just weren't sure why he took it so badly. He was in a lot of pain, even though the operation itself was quick and really good, with no issues. He would spend the day, in his “bread loaf” position, with his nose to the ground. It was like he was conserving all his energy for when we came home or wanted his attention.

Eventually, after a few weeks he bounced back, back to being his usual self, for a while. He actually lost a lot of fur during this time, most likely due to a reaction to the antibiotics and pain killers. Where his collar and harness were, he lost all his hair. It only took a few days, a bit too quick to realize what was going on, he rarely wore the collar or harness after that. It meant we sometimes lost him in the house without his bell on to tell which room he was in, so I'd be running around turning on and off the lights to get his attention and a meow.

It was our fun game of “Mijo Polo”.

We had noticed he wasn't eating as much, and he wasn't as playful. In fact, all his toys were being ignored, and he rarely chased anything we teased him with. When we took him for playtime with his cousin, he wouldn't last as long play fighting. Something was up, we thought he'd bounce back by now.

Overall, he was a very chilled cat, having just had an operation and now with, ringworm, a tooth problem (one adult tooth was causing him problems and needed to be pulled) maybe that was why he wasn't too interested in food. Surely it wasn't bacteria, an infection or a virus in his blood.

In early May, Mijo developed ringworm, which, by the way, isn't a worm but rather a fungal infection. The vet already had us on anti fungal cream day and night. It's very unusual to get ringworm; it's all around us, but a strong immune system, actually, a decent immune system, would fight off any infection naturally. Cats generally just lick it all off their fur. Humans sometimes get it, from a scratch or a wound. It's in the soil, it's in the air.

When we got the treatment for the ringworm, we also gave him an appetite stimulant, to encourage him to eat, but it made little difference. As nothing changed, we went back to the vet a few days later, and did a hypothyroidism test; the results were borderline.

What could be going on?

At the time of his desexing operation, he was 1.7 kilos, a week later he was down to 1.5 and eventually 1.45 kilo. His body was growing a little, but his muscle and fat wasn't.

We talked to the vet and decided, even though his ringworm was infectious, the tooth had to go, sooner rather than later. It seemed logical that it was his biggest barrier to fulfilling his dietary requirements and his well being. We wanted him fattening up, growing up, and being his usual self again, ASAP. We needed to get him back on track towards good health, enough was enough.

On Monday 17th May I dropped the little guy off at the vet for the day. A check up and a tooth pull.

Before any cat gets an anesthetic, they run a simple blood test to determine if the cat is well enough. During the day we got a call that the operation couldn't happen, and that he'd have to stay in over night or longer, with meds to help him, because his red cell blood count was low. 10%. Most cats need around 40%, if there's any complication with the tooth pull, his blood may not clot.

It's official, he was very unwell.

I was at school when I got the news. I was in shock. Our little boy was that unwell? But he does eat (a little), he does walk on the lead with me, he's eating his treats... was he that unwell?

Suddenly we had to decide on some expensive tests to figure out what was wrong with him. I mean, the red blood cells were being eaten up by the white ones, but why?? We arranged the suggested tests and they kept him in over night.

I was very distraught. How can my little guy be so unwell yet behave well? With that blood count, he shouldn't be able to walk, he should be so lethargic that he can't keep his head up!! He should be in a coma.

All in all, theoretically, he should be dead.

So was it dwarfism, hypothyroidism, mycoplasma??? And and and?? Tests... Blood being taken.. Our boy in the vet over night, alone, worried, scared??? Will he make it through the night? I didn't sleep well...

On Tuesday afternoon the vet let us bring him home. His blood level was down to 9.1%. The idea was that, at least at home he'd have cuddles and love, and that might help his immune system. He was lethargic but not completely terrible. I would need to bring him in on Wednesday for another blood test, to see how he was doing.

On Wednesday, it didn't go well, Mijo had gone from 9 to 8.1% blood level. It was now becoming almost impossible to get any blood out of him. I saw how difficult it was 2 weeks earlier when he had the hypothyroid test, they had to try on both legs and his neck to get a half mil of blood! He was a champ and barely complained. But now, I couldn't imagine the pain he went through with even less blood.

He's been that sick for how long?? Why hadn't we noticed?

We were panicking.

The vet suggested we meet with a mature, more experienced doc, on Thursday. We should be able to figure something out, we had to. Each day = less blood = more chance of...

Well, I am a hopeful guy. I realize, I live on hope. I spent years hoping certain people in my life would change, or love me in a way that I feel some love. I always hope things will change for the better. I don't know why, but it's ingrained in me to feel hopelessness or hope... I think I'm never in the middle... or is that called acceptance? OK, maybe I do feel that too, eventually... But it takes a long long time...

I have videos of Mijo on Thursday 20th, he's cleaning himself in the sun, meowing and purring, happy to see me, walking around the garden with me. Full of life and adventure.

At lunch time, Mijo and I go to the vet. He is his usual cute self, always curious at the vets, and now there's a the new guy he's meeting, what an adventure.

Before he opens the cat box he said something along the lines of “Well, because his blood levels are so low, today is really about deciding if he goes to heaven or not...” I'm not sure, but I know I heard words like “heaven” and “euthanasia” early on in the consultation. Shock was setting in. I barely heard anything else he said, luckily we had Alex on the speaker phone.

Turns out, not only is our little guy deaf, he's an anomaly.

Any cat with 8.1% should be comatose. They should barely be able to walk. They certainly can't pee or poo without help and don't drink or eat much. Mijo came out of his box and sniffed around, was alert and ready to meet the new guy!!

The vet was stumped. He had never seen this before, in over 30 years...

We didn't know he was so sick, because, he was, overall, a well behaved cat. His weight he lost, sure, but he was now at least stable. He was eating, it just took a lot of creativity sometimes to spark his interest (mostly warming up meals and giving him treats).

The vet tried to explain to me, but I'm sure Alex on the phone understood it clearly, that we had very little time, well, no time. We had 3 choices that day. Go to a specialist an hour's drive away, give Mijo steroids and hope he had mycoplasma or Immune mediated hemolytic anemia (IMHA) or, lastly, euthanasia.

Wait???? What does that even mean??

The specialist would give him a blood transfusion, and some special custom drugs which should help him. The vet said it could cost in the 10s of thousands, and may help Mijo for a few weeks, but it's not a solution that we are sure would be long term or not.

Giving Mijo steroids would give him a fighting chance, or not... Basically it could cure or kill him. Because we aren't sure what is the cause of the low blood count, it could be IMHA, mycoplasma or something else, but it's a best educated guess at this rate. If it is the wrong choice, he may die quicker than expected.

Euthanasia, no explanation needed.

We decided on steroids. According to the vet, there was a 50/50 chance it would work. If the cause of the blood cells killing off each other was for or against steroids, we'd know soon enough. Still shocked I tried to understand it all. I'm so grateful Alex was on the line and knows this stuff through experience and study.

The idea of taking Mijo an hour's drive north to the specialist, to a cubicle, a place where we may not be with him 24/7, on the off chance that he wouldn't make it and die alone, we couldn't fathom that.

Mijo took the steroid injection like a champ, he always did injections well. He was given some antibiotics to also help. The vet said, that by Saturday we'll know if it was the right decision. We'd know if he would be getting better...

It was decided that on Monday 24th we'd go back in for a blood test to actually see if the steroids were working (cause apparently one can't really tell with Mijo's behavior, the cheeky monkey).

Mijo and I came home, and well, he ate, he was purring, sitting on my lap. The usual deal. When I went out to get the washing in, he tried to go out too, something we, as parents, have been very protective about. He doesn't go out alone, he doesn't go out without a lead or a bell. He's not an easy cat to find if he runs off, not that he has ever tried. He deaf, he can't hear cars or other dangers out there.

I promised him I'd take him out to that side of the house/garden that afternoon...

So we did, we went out, we sat down, he explored. He was well, good, better, best. He was my boy. He trusted me, I trusted him. I'm always amazed how well he walks by my side, like a dog, with loose leash... Taking my steps as cues when to walk, and when to stop.

We also met the neighbor's dog, which was a first, both were not really interested in each other... But still, Mijo knew there's a lot to live for...

Overnight he went great... Woke up with him on my chest relaxing waiting for me to get up and feed him, luckily I have a wife who had to get up for work at that moment. I remember she sang him a lullaby and held him like a baby. It was really sweet to see how much love they had for each other. Rock-a-bye Mijo...

We wanted to him feel as much love as we could. We felt that, if the steroids and antibiotics were doing their part, and we did ours, there's nothing he can't beat. And he sure felt the love...

I held him while doing some singing exercises, close to my chest. It was something we hadn't done before, and he purred. He'd look up and meow every time I stopped making vibrations. He felt it, I felt it, it was a connection.

We spent a lot of time, reading, relaxing and sitting on laps. Alex and I cuddled him, told him we loved him. He was really fighting. He was eating. He was a little more playful than in recent weeks. He wanted to live. We could feel it...

He went from eating half a packet to 1.5 packets a day, plus dry food. He always wanted treats, and I was always glad to oblige.

By Saturday he was wonder cat! Kneading... Purring... Chasing toys... Eager to hang out...

We'd overcome the problem! He was getting better. There's fight, love and life left in him. He was amazing. If it hadn't been for his ringworm (which was also healing very very well) I'd say he was perfect, especially once he put on another few grams...

We had 4 awesome days, loads of energy and love. He was never alone in the house, and rarely alone in a room. We wanted him to know, to feel, that we loved him so deeply and that all we want was him in our life, for adventures and cuddles.

On Monday morning, his appetite went down... He didn't really eat much...

We all left for the day, work and school. I think we were all worried, but he'd been so good and improved so so much, that we were sure he'd be fine. We have the blood test booked for the afternoon, I'm sure he'll pep up by then. The injection could be wearing off too...

Mijo and I went in to the vet, and his test came back at 14%!!! Damn, that's 6 points!! The vet expected 3 to be a big improvement. In fact, if he had 3 or less, euthanasia may have been the only option... Happy days! He was well. He's going to live! He'll be fine.

We're not out of the woods yet, but we are in the right direction.

All that love we lavished on him, not just in the past days, but the past 4 months. The adventures, the friends he'd made (both human and animal) the smells and sights he'd seen, the vibrations he felt, it was all coming together... He was a fighter with a lot of love to give...

We were over joyed. Really, I couldn't have been happier when I got the results. I gave a “whoop” and threw my fist in the air (I've never done that before in my life!).

We changed to tablet form steroids, as they'll be better long term, keep up the antibiotics and off we go...

But we all know, that often people and animals, when they know they are dying, they give it one last shot. And that was it... We didn't realize until Wednesday, that he wasn't actually going to get better...

Mijo stopped grooming himself, he slowly ate less and less... He became more and more lethargic, he started to sit in the “bread loaf” position with his nose on the ground, as he did after the snip, resting. We thought it was the change in steroids, and as I was at school and the girls at work, we just kept thinking he'd pep up eventually.

When I left for school Wednesday morning, he was alert, but lethargic. When I came home early to check on him, he had really changed again.

His belly was a little bloated, but he had hardly eaten. He had trouble walking, it seemed like it was a mix of muscle degradation/pain and confusion. His meowing changed to a high pitch cry, similar to that of a young kitten. He also stopped eating, he wouldn't even touch any of his tasty treats. He searched for any bit of sun to stand in, but he was looking so uncomfortable, his posture had changed, half sitting, half standing. I was grateful, when I carried him to his water bowl, that he drank a lot. He also went to the toilet, I held his tail so he didn't make a mess on himself.

We spent the afternoon outside, as the sun started to set. He loved the sun, I wanted him to feel warmth... I held him, talked to him. I don't know now many times I asked him to please hold on, please fight and that I loved him. He looked more comfortable in the sun.

I did film us walking around the pool. I am forever grateful for technology, so that I could just put my phone down, touch a button and record a moment. As we walked and talked, oblivious to the camera, I recognized a change in his breathing... I may have missed it previously, but for sure, his breath was becoming more and more labored. Every 3 or 4 breaths, he just had to try harder... His eyes were changing too... But I was sure he could recognize me, the way the vibrations from my chest reached his body and the way I smell. He would react from time to time, shifting or clawing at me.

He often touched my chest with his paw. Reaching out...

Mum and I went to the vet late Wednesday afternoon, the earliest we could. I explained it must be the change of steroids. No, it wasn't. They were the same type, it was just that he wasn't able to fight anymore. We discussed the specialist, called them and made a plan to go in first thing in the morning. I arranged for a friend to come with me, and Thursday morning bright and early, we were going up to get Mijo cured. Transfusion, drugs, you name it, we were going to do it. We had to, we told him we'd make him better.

There and then, Alex and I decided to trade in our honeymoon, you know from the wedding we had 13 months ago and still haven't done the traditional thing of a week or two away somewhere. We decided the money we had aside for that, would go to Mijo's specialist costs, because without Mijo, our honeymoon, whatever and whenever we decide to do it, wouldn't be worth doing, if he wasn't around.

I made a firm plan on how to help him through the night. We would hold him in shifts... All 3 of us... If one showered, the other held him. Dinner time, we shared the responsibility, not that we ate much anyhow. We cuddled, we talked, we purred, I would blow gently on his head... He was feeling love and he was fighting...

Because he hadn't eaten all day, we decided to try feeding him with a syringe, with success. With the tablets we were putting into his stomach, I felt he needed something else down there too... With a small syringe, he took it well, lapping up a tasty liquid treat.

When it was bed time, we put pillows around the bed, incase he fell, because he was very wobbly on his feet. He would cry out at random times, possibly from pain, but I think more from confusion. He sometimes wanted to get away from us, as we know, pets know when it's time and usually disappear, isolate.

We barely slept. I managed about 3 hours... But it was tough.. He wouldn't stay still, and eventually we put him in his little bed, near our bed... Of course he didn't stay there long.

At 4am I heard him crying... I found him under the bed... Alex woke up too... His breathing had changed a lot... Every breath was labored. He wasn't getting enough oxygen.

I laid on my back, and Mijo laid on my chest. This was how it often was, especially when I was reading... We did that until around 7am... Alex taking turns, holding him, talking to him, loving him. Mijo could barely hold himself up, he just laid in our arms... Breathing... His eyes began to glaze over...

We discussed our options, we felt the specialist was now a long shot. We didn't think he'd make the drive, he was near the end. Our little man had little fight left... And we wouldn't forgive ourselves for him dying in a foreign place. There were a lot of tears and back and forwards, including mum coming in for cuddles with the little guy at 5am...

Alex called the emergency vet, and we planned to go in at 8:30... Mijo's time had come...

When the sun comes up, if the blind is open in our bedroom, the sun shines right on through to Alex in bed, Mijo was in her arms, while she drank coffee as the sun rose.

Sometime later I took the little guy out to the pool, where we walked and talked, cuddled and loved, around and around, in the morning sun. I talked to him about all the adventures we had, riding bikes, visiting people, the beach and the river. I spent most of that hour, holding him, looking to his eyes... He gazed up, I just hope he knew it was me. I just knew he felt the vibrations of my words.

We both told him, it was OK to let go now. We were ready. But he kept on fighting for each breath... I think he was just like his Dad, always hopeful..

He last moments at home, where in the chair I'm sat in now. It gets the best light, first thing, even though it's inside the “catio”. Alex had sat down while I was walking outside, I seem to do better when I walk, and I brought him in for cuddles with her in the sun... He was bathed in sunshine, in Alex's arms... It was beautiful...

Actually getting in the car and going to the vet, was tough, but it really hit me when I walked in. I held the little guy, and just burst into middle-aged-man tears and sobbing... If you were there, you'd know I was my mother's son, cause she was sobbing too... I couldn't look anyone in the eye... I didn't understand what was going on, or about to go on...

I think I was in another place...

We went into a consult room, and I just laid the little guy down, not thinking of using the blanket we had... The vet explained the procedure and took him away for his catheter and first injection, some anesthetic? I don't know, but apparently it was the right thing, it helped with his pain.

I couldn't even look Alex or Mum in the eye... I just cried...

I still had hope...

When they came back, Mijo was wrapped in a soft blanket, what a great idea...!! He was quieter, more peaceful... The vet left to give us a moment...

He was still breathing, still fighting... I put my ear to his face, and heard him...

I kept making sure his eye lids closed from time to time. I remember back when Catalina, my little girl in Germany, needed to be anesthetized for a check up. The vet put some put liquid drops in her eyes and made her blink, so her eyes didn't dry out... So for Mijo, I did that every once in a while... I didn't want his eyes to dry up... I wanted him to be able to see me, because laying on that table, he couldn't hear me.

I begged Alex not to bring the vet back in for the final injection... I think I may have screamed something at her... I don't know... I wasn't me... I was trying to hold him in my arms, without moving him... I was trying to give him another chance...

I bawled...

I don't know if I have ever cried like that before... I thought I'd be all cried out... I thought all my tears had already left the building the previous hours and days... But there was more... a lot more... and more to come...

I know that Alex and I held hands over his body... I felt the love... I felt his warmth... his breathing... I know I cried tears onto him, there were tear drops on his lips...

I looked him in the eye as much as I could, but mostly, I cried...

I felt the liquid go into him, I felt it go around my hand into him...

I don't know much about what happened after that... I know I didn't want to leave him, I had promised him I would never do it. I regret not holding him once more... I know that at that moment, I felt the life drain out of me... I felt hope die...

I walked out, not knowing what to do, and flopped down on the grass outside... I never sit on grass, but Mijo liked it...

I managed to drive home...

That was yesterday...

Since then I've tried to rest, tried to come to grips with what has happened, tried to connect with a few friends, I've tried... I'm still trying...

This morning I got up wanting to do some sport, washing, then study and take on the day with confidence... It's a new day, I should take that opportunity to get back into my routine... It took all of 1 minute, from bed to bathroom, to be bawling... Except for the time I manage to calm down enough to type this blog, I've been crying... It's now 10am... I was awake at 6:15...

We are running out of tissues..

I felt so bad this morning, I wanted to plead with Alex not to go to work, because I just can't today. I just can't. We have discussed how she copes in these situations, and I know that's how she copes, by going to work, so I kept my trap shut. I just want her to hug me all day, so I can feel her warmth.

I cried so much on the drive to drop mum off at work this morning, she started crying too, and contemplated not going to work... She wanted to be there for me, but I told her, honestly, I don't think I'd be much company today.

I don't know the grieving process, we haven't learnt that in counseling school yet, but I do know, I'm feeling very lost... I feel very numb...

I can't explain it, and maybe that's why folks can never really explain how they feel after someone close to them, or their pet, has passed. We are just lost.

I also feel that I am grieving for my other losses in my life. It's a bit like, it's a culmination of all the others before him, plus him on top, making me feel pain like I have never experienced before.

Grief is just love, with no place to go... Alex and I talked about that quote last night. I used this quote to help me through leaving my 4 pets in Germany, I know I have to find a new place for my love, but for now, I just can't.

I know I couldn't have gotten through this without the support of my Mum and Alex...

While Mum cries at the drop of a hat, she is solid and thoughtful and loving. Alex is strong and experienced in these matters. She knew what to say, and when, even if I did yell back… Both have a lot of time and patience for me.

I know Alex and Mum feel bad, maybe even guilty, for choosing him. Mijo was a present, to give me joy and love and comfort. And he sure did, in multitudes, to all of us. I would never have gotten a cat back then, I didn't feel Alex or I were ready, we were still working through our issues with our pets in Germany.

Alex and I decided that we want Mijo home with us. He was only on this earth for 6.5 months, we expected him to be with us for 10+ years. Taken too early. Once he's cremated we'll have him in a little urn. He was so small, but if there's a little left over, we will either plant a tree with his ashes or sprinkle him down by the river, the first place he went to that was close to water.

The past day or so, I have shared what happened with some friends, classmates and family, and everyone has been so thoughtful and caring. Thank you, it's really helped to know you're all out there, thinking of the little guy. He would have loved to meet you all.

He was perfection. If someone else had gotten him, realized he was deaf, they may not have given him the adventures and life he had. Mum considers him a rescue cat...

So here I am, in the chair, his last chair in his last moments at home.

I can still smell him on my shirt. When I walk around the house, dazed, I sniff my shirt. He had a wonderful smell. The smell of love and adventure. I hope that smell lasts a life time.

I miss his warmth, his meow, which was damn loud!! I miss, that sometimes he'd get lost around the house... Or he'd lose me, around the house. He was gentle, and only bit me once, by accident, piercing my thumb a little. I miss the fact he had 1 tooth growing forward, directly out, making him a tri-toothed kitten with a protruding top lip! He took on the world without fear. I've never experienced anything like it in a cat. My girl Catalina did sit on my shoulder as I walked down the street in Germany, but Mijo, he let me go skateboarding with him, played guitar with me (he'd chew the strings) and one time, I even vacuumed his tail.

All trust. No fear.

Back when he lost all his hair around his neck and stomach after his snip operation, we were pretty concerned. Funnily enough, it grew back pretty quickly, but it grew back white, not grey. He had a ring around his neck and kind of marks on his back wrapping around to his belly. Alex googled it, and actually found out, cats can often have their hair grow back white after trauma or experiencing extremes of temperature if their hair was cut short or fell out.

About a month ago, I sent my dearest of friends, Sandra, a photo of his regrowth, and she commented looks like “little angel wings”...

Fly on little wing, fly on...

RIP Mijo Angus

12-11-2020 – 27-05-2021

Thanks for reading,

Josh

#pet #pet love #pet death #sad story #loss #griefandloss

[cheswirls]

[ pt 1/2 of the tensemi track au!! small note, when i started this (almost) a year ago i confused the one mile records with the 100 meter records, so this fic goes w/ the assumption the 100m record is 4 seconds. yes i know the 100m record is 10s. no i am not going to change it. just read it regarding this info, and it should be smooth. ]

year one |

the spring before eita’s freshman year, he has a growth spurt. it’s not anything big, only a handful of inches, but it’s enough to make a difference as he works around it in his training regimen. his legs get longer, his steps grow wider, and by the time track and field tryouts come around, he’s confident he’s adjusted enough to the change to make a difference.

“next, semi-san!”

a whistle blows as eita lines up and crouches on the third lane, eyes lifting to catch the 100 meter mark in his sight. he tenses his arms and lifts his figure, and on the next whistle he’s off.

eita likes running. he can’t remember a time in his life when he didn’t. but it’s the short bursts he likes best. he doesn’t have to worry about pacing himself. he doesn’t have the time to watch anyone around him. ten seconds and it’s over. ten seconds and he’s at the finish line, breaking a couple paces after, hands on his knees for a brief moment before he straightens up and turns.

everyone is silent around him. it wouldn’t bother eita so much, but they’re all watching him, and a feeling of unease creeps up his spine. it’s only elevated when they all start breaking out in chaotic whispers, and he turns his head to see the assistant coach blinking at his stopwatch.

“semi-san,” the head coach calls, and eita steps forward, shoes leaving the track for the grass on the inner field. the assistant coach finally moves his gaze away, looking incredulously to semi, but it sharply turns to pride and something else, like he just found an old treasure buried deep in a treasure chest.

“what was your average last year?” the head coach asks, and eita stumbles through his answer, mind still fixed on the expression of the assistant coach and the implications it suddenly held.

and that was how semi eita first learned he could run 100 meters in six seconds.

-

they have him come to day two of tryouts to run another. just to prove it wasn’t a fluke. eita knows it wasn’t, because he had run several that past night, just to prove to himself that it was all real. the same result happens. 6.4 seconds and his feet cross the line.

one of the football coaches that served as an assistant during off-season casually flips through a stapled bunch of papers, frowning slightly when he reached the end. “this is your only event?” he asks semi.

eita nods, and the assistant coach from the other day hums, taking the list to flip back a couple pages.

“why don’t you try for a 200 as well? i’m sure with-”

“i’m sorry, but i only run sprints.” both coaches look up in surprise, and eita bows sharply. then he turns and jogs off, done for the day.

when the list of names comes out the next day, he isn’t surprised to find he’s made it. he is surprised that there is only a single reporting time, and that they aren’t all separated by event immediately. he seeks out the head coach with a frown, bemused by the provided training. eita trains alone. it’s not that he minds the company, but he has his own routine. it worked through middle school, and it worked through the spring, and it would work now. besides, going through the same practice the long-distance runners did wouldn’t help him. it was just impractical. especially with his results.

the head coach takes his speech in stride, and then he tosses his head back and laughs. after calming down, he pats semi on the shoulder and shakes his head. “tell you what, kid. you place at nationals, and i’ll let you do whatever you want. but this year, i want you to try things our way. you came to shiratorizawa for a reason, right?” he winks.

the suggestion irks him, but he can’t deny the truth in the words. so, with a long-suffering sigh, eita bows his head and hurries off to join practice.

-

midway through pre-season is when eita has enough. usually, they’re divided by mid, long, and short distance, and given slightly different training exercises. today, though-

“everyone is running three miles.” one of the coaches points to the perimeter of the field, where a gate lines the outside. “there’s a road around the gate that circles the football fields and the tennis courts. twice around and back should be the distance you need. once you’re done, you’re free to go.”

everyone starts heading off, and eita snaps from his frozen position. “i can’t run three miles!” he bursts. a few people pause to look, some snickering, but he ignores them. a look from the coaches has him backing up, however, switching out his words. “i can walk three miles. can i -can i do that? that wouldn’t be that long. i could do it in, uh-” he breaks off, mumbling the math, the 20 on average so times three- “an hour. can i do that?”

one of the assistant answers him with another question. “can you run one mile?”

eita blinks. “yes,” he says, because he might be a sprinter, but one mile is nothing. the coach nods.

“okay. then walk two and run one. is that acceptable?”

eita purses his lips. “yes,” he mutters, and doesn’t stick around to see them change their minds.

-

shiratorizawa is an elite school. he knew this coming here, he knew the competition would be rough, he knew everyone around him was the best in their field. he thought he was good enough to be able to keep up.

but with a near four second improvement in his time, semi goes from good to untouchable.

there’s one other shiratorizawa athlete in his event, an upperclassman eita had never spoken with, but they’re in different heats and his concentration is pinpoint. it’s hot, but the breeze is there to cool him off, and eita sits down on the grass to do his stretches. if anyone approaches him, he doesn’t notice. there’s a group of girls a few paces away wearing the same purple uniform as him, but they don’t pay any attention to him, so he does the same.

he lines up when his rotation comes up and takes a deep breath as he crouches into position.

in, out. bang.

eita’s eyes lock on to the finish mark and he unconsciously speeds up, lungs burning, muscles twitching, giving his all for this short burst.

he doesn’t look behind him when he finishes, only up, but it’s not the same as middle school. the scoreboard still has results from two events ago. he sighs and walks off the track, hands on his head. he’d been used to having results immediately, but miyagi was a big region, and there were still three more heats to go before they compiled the results.

one of the assistant coaches comes up and hands him a water, congratulates him. eita nods in thanks, taking it, but he doesn’t feel excited. he may have won his heat, but he still didn’t know where he placed overall.

he kind of zones out, one minute gazing at the track as people line up for the 200 meter, and then the next he’s met with people carting out hurdles from the infield. he blinks and looks up to the scoreboard, and right on cue an announcer comes on to reveal the results for the mens 100 meter.

eita lets out a breath as he sees his name first. it’s not until he sees the point gap between him and second place does he realize how easy a time he had it. there’s nearly a five point lead. he’d completely crushed the competition.

later, as eita descends the podium with his medal, a handful of people in purple come up to congratulate him. eita doesn’t really recognize their faces, much less know their names, so he just does his best to smile and nod.

practice doesn’t change. and of course it wouldn’t. the coach’s offer was for semi to place at nationals, not a regional meet. the win didn’t count for anything but his pride. none of them did until the qualifier, it was all for the experience.

eita still practices alone, within the team. he’s divided up with the short distance runners and sent through the same paces, but he keeps to himself as he completes the drills. he doesn’t even know what the other runners think of him, and he really doesn’t care, either. he’s there to run.

-

end-of-term exams come around on the first week of july, and the track team is given a full ten days off in light of it.

at first, eita does as usual. grades have never been anything he’s really needed to concern himself with. he spends the extra time training, pushing himself in his newfound solitude.

but then all his tests are over, and school is preparing to shut down for summer break. before the week can let out, with five days to go until practice resumes as usual, eita runs, breathless, into the staff room, managing to corner one of the assistant coaches before he can leave.

“you want a key to the gym?” eita nods and he scratches his head, lightly frowning. “you know, the break is there for you to rest, and not just because of exams.”

“i get plenty of rest,” eita argues.

the coach sighs. “of course you do. look, we’re not supposed to let first-years wander off with keys, but . .” he shrugs, leaning forward in his chair to sort through a desk drawer. “you’re a good kid, semi-kun. if you think you need the equipment in the gym, i’ll let you borrow this.” he holds out a plain keyring and eita takes it with a nod. “give it back next time you see me, okay? and don’t forget when the next team practice is!”

eita is euphoric when given the opportunity. he’s halfway home when he notices the skip in his step, and then he realizes just how much energy he was pent up with, immediately setting off in a different direction. it takes half an hour before he’s sure he can return home without his mom yelling at him to quit bouncing off the walls, and by the time he’s on the porch steps he’s panting so bad he tries to use the gym key to unlock the front door.

his usual solo workout he’d adapted to before high school serves him well in the break, and adding on the private use of the gym makes it even better. the lights still turn on, thankfully, and the windows let in the sun just enough that even if they didn’t, it might not even matter. it’s not unusual to be here alone like he thought it might be -mostly it’s just quiet, which -even if he was reluctant to admit it- has grown quite odd. he’s accustomed to the low rumble that accompanied a large group -feet on the turf, murmurs, whistle blows, the shuffling of equipment.

on the morning of the eleventh day, eita wakes up early and jogs down to the school, keys jangling hidden in his pocket. he finds the particular coach he’d borrowed them from and manages to sneak them back without anyone else becoming wiser. if he was lucky, that would mean he’d have earned the trust to have them again.

-

the miyagi prefectural athletics meet in the middle of july doubled as the national qualifier for two weeks later, in august. even if the venue hadn’t been close by eita’s home, shiratorizawa still put the school’s budget to good use, transporting all the students in one go once they had gathered at the school.

eita’s internal musings he’d had since middle school of but i could have gotten there faster if i had walked from home take a hard backseat to the thrumming in his veins, the pure ecstasy he feels where he was headed and what he was headed there for.

the coaches camp out a big spot on the infield and shiratorizawa gathers into a cluster, throwing down personal bags and coolers and various other things until all around eita is a sea of royal purple.

there are three hours until his event, but he starts stretching right away, slipping off his warmup jacket and his trainers so he has enough traction to rest his feet on his shoulders. his eyes glance to the track periodically while he goes through the motions, watching as various smaller events take place.

noise to his left makes him glance up, sliding both legs to the turf. there’s a large crowd gathered around one of the field events -he can’t tell which one from his height. eita eyes the time and thinks, just for a moment, about going to investigate.

then he tunes that part of his brain out, resuming his stretches.

he goes for a run, careful to keep out of the way. he sprawls out on the infield, staring up at the sun as it tracks higher in the sky. it’s a nice day, overall. not too hot. a little cloudy, but not enough to threaten to rain.

his shoelaces get readjusted as someone comes to inform him of his heat. he has a number pinned to his back, the sun appears just a bit from behind thin clouds, and the roar of the crowd pulls him finally onto the track.

he’d missed competing in this spot. prefecturals were the same location no matter what school grade you were in. it felt like coming home.

he breathes out deep and crouches in his lane, looking down to adjust his footing before looking up to the finish line. it’s a singular focus, and slowly but surely, all the noise around him fades, until it’s only the internal sounds of adrenaline ringing in his ears.

bang. and he’s off.

his spikes dig in on the line before he fully realizes, having to force himself to stop several paces after, nearly tripping over himself. he looks back over his shoulder, breathing heavy, and throws his arms over his head.

there are still runners crossing the finish line. it’s a wild feeling, one eita’s never bothered to cash in on, and one that makes him absolutely dizzy with delight.

he crushes the time from his previous meet, and seeing the seconds lined up with the overall results has him feeling almost insane. there truly was no competition out here anymore. if he wanted a challenge, he’d have to go looking for it.

and that was exactly what he was going to do, he realizes, as he steps off the podium with a gold medal in hand and the proud gaze of the head coach on him.

-

nationals is in fukui, a six hour train ride away, on the second of august. on the first of the month, shiratorizawa loads onto a train in the morning. eita is not surprised to see many of his peers around him that would be competing in nationals -shiratorizawa was simply that kind of school.

eita has been on the shinkansen before, and knowing what kind of trip it would be, takes some of his summer homework to finish. since he also knows that they would be changing lines in tokyo for the one to kanazawa, he picks some of the less challenging, mind-numbing ones so that he’ll have enough awareness to switch trains.

eita sits in an aisle seat next to a boy he doesn’t know. it’s mostly uneventful, with him scribbling away at his papers and the boy leaning forward to talk to the students that sat in the row ahead. when eita feels like the noise around him is too much, he puts an earbud in and plays songs at random from his phone.

at kanazawa, they switch to a regular train for the last leg of the trip to fukui. it’s definitely hotter closer to the coast like this, and eita feels the lingering regret in his choice of clothing as his track jacket starts sticking to him. the train ride this time should be less than an hour, so everything is packed up in his backpack, and his overnight bag rests in his free hands as he waits for the train at the station.

“semi-san?” he hears as he climbs aboard, sighing in relief at the air conditioning. he looks over to find a girl with a high ponytail leaning out of her seat and into the aisle to address him. she smiles when he makes eye contact. “there’s a free seat here. come sit with us!”

and that’s how he finds himself nestled in with a few second-years. the seats face each other here, which means there was more leg room. everyone has their bags by their feet instead of the overhead slots, and eita follows suit, pushing his overnight bag under the window seat he’d been given and unzipping his other bag as he places it against the wall.

“-don’t understand why i had to give up my seat,” the boy to his left is complaining. it gives eita pause, as he’s reaching for his earbuds. the girl adjacent to him visibly rolls her eyes, rocking her feet forward to knock against the boy’s.

“semi’s a first year, silly. he’s probably never seen this before.”

“if it matters that much to you i’ll switch,” the boy across from eita says, and at that point he’s got one earbud in and his music switched on, so he no longer pays attention as they begin to switch around.

he does end up gazing out the window as they begin to move, and is surprised that he can see the coastline from here. a tap on his arm makes him glance to his left, where the girl has apparently switched seats to. she half-waves and points to her ear, and eita startles, moving to pause the music.

“you’re only wearing one,” she notes.

he shrugs. “i want to be able to hear if something happens.”

she lets out a little laugh at this, slouching in her seat. her legs are thrown over her bag, and she switches which is crossed over the other at the ankle. “don’t worry about that,” she tells him. “i’ll let you know.”

it’s an odd bout of kindness, and eita suddenly feels weird that he doesn’t know her name, or any of their names, really, even when they knew his. she moves into a conversation with the boys, leaving him to his own devices, and eita takes the chance to shrug off the awkwardness, pushing both earbuds in and closing his eyes.

maybe he falls asleep, he’s not sure, but a shaking on his arm gets him to open his eyes. it takes a moment for his vision to settle, and then his arm is shaken again, and he lolls his head to see the second-year girl nodding toward the aisle, where one of the assistant coaches stood.

eita takes the hint and pulls the earbuds out.

“-passing out your room assignments,” the coach is saying, handing stacks of envelopes to whoever was in reach. the boy adjacent to eita accepts the bundle, flipping through to grab the one with his name, and then handing the other three their own. eita takes his gingerly, frowning lightly at his name, and then tugs the flap open to find a list of names on a slip of paper next to a room number, and a key-card for the place they were staying.”

“oh, cool,” the one across from him, in the other window seat, was saying. eita glances up and then glances back up when he sees he’s being watched. “looks like we’re sharing.”

eita looks back down to the names, pursing his lips. maybe he lucked out, then, that out of the three he didn’t recognize, one of them he’d already met.

“that’s convenient,” the girl says. “who else is there?”

instead of listening to him list off the names, she leans into eita’s space and reads for herself. eita takes this in stride, turning the paper to face her, and her eyes light up when she recognizes the connection.

“oh, it’s all the short-distance. i guess there are only five of you. take care of semi-san, okay? he’s the only kouhai you’ve got on this trip.”

eita blinks, caught up on the last part. he misses his roommate’s confirmation as he puzzles this out, and ends up speaking before he realizes. “i’m the only first year?”

they all look at him, and then one by one, start bursting into laughter.

“man, you’re really out of your element here, huh?” the other boy, the not-roommate, says. eita’s lips purse as he tries to think of a comeback. he holds out his hands. “i didn’t mean anything bad. just, well-”

“you’re not very social, is what he’s saying,” the girl says. “there’s a girl on the relay team that’s a first-year, but you’re the only one with an individual event.”

oh. there had been so many that morning that he had just assumed almost everyone had placed for nationals. knowing most of them were second and third-years was . . well, it certainly helped his ego. not that he was letting that go to his head or anything.

before he can ask more, the train arrives, and he’s quickly grabbing his things before being pushed off and led away by one of the boys he’d be staying with.

-

fukui is nice. hot. humid. it’s a dizzying combination that has him staying in the hotel lobby instead of venturing out to see the sights, declining every invitation he’s offered. he finishes the portion of homework he’d been working through on the shinkansen, then puts the rest away for the trip back home. his mom calls after he’s procured a bottle of water, and he visits with her for a minute, lounging on one of the seats in the air-conditioned space.

after showering away a morning’s worth of travel, eita lies down in the unit on one of the beds. he’s the only one in the room, and after his lightheadedness doesn’t quite clear up upon consuming an energy bar, he doesn’t wait for any of the upperclassmen to return to tell him to take the pull-out bed, falling asleep on top of the duvet.

he ends up skipping dinner. when he wakes it’s late, around eleven, and the only light in the room comes from a small lamp near the wall on the other side of the bed. eita glances over to see the boy from the train leaning back against the pillows, scrolling on his phone. he looks up when eita turns and nods to the bedside table on eita’s side, where a peeled orange and a handful of crackers sat.

“for me?” eita murmurs, noticing the room’s other occupants are asleep.

“mhmm. you should try and sleep more, but eat that first. you’ll need something in you before tomorrow.”

“thanks,” he mumbles, reaching over to pull the meal into his lap. he doesn’t necessarily feel bad anymore, but something is still off, which is concerning. maybe it was the change in weather.

the salt from the crackers helps. the orange is good too. eita can’t believe it’s peeled. he sure lucked out with the upperclassmen he was assigned.

“i’m going to bed,” the boy says, after eita has finished and tossed the napkin away. he reaches over to turn off the light, and waves his lit phone for eita to see. “i set an alarm for the morning, so don’t be scared when it goes off.”

“oh, okay,” eita whispers, climbing under the covers. “thank you.”

“nah, don’t sweat it. that’s what i’m here for -to make your life easier.”

“not to win tomorrow?”

“well, that too. night, semi.”

“night.”

-

the next morning eita’s head is swimming, and nothing helps. his pained frown persists through a hot shower, a light breakfast, two medication pills, and the bus ride over to the stadium. he tries to ward off his concerned roommate that he really should be remembering the name of, but all that really gets him is more persistent near-coddling, until eita finally has enough and goes to sprawl in the grass near a corner of the track.

the sky is cloudless and the sun bright, this time. the heat is not helping in the slightest. eita rests a condensating water bottle against his forehead and extends his arms into the air, trying to convince himself to sit up and stretch.

maybe it was nerves. though, he’s never experienced anything like that before. maybe not never, maybe when he was younger, but it’s been a long time, and it wasn’t really something he’d think to concern himself over anymore, so this had to be the cause of something else.

he hopes he’s not sick. that would suck.

he goes through warmup and forgets everything as soon as he’s done it, leaving his body thrumming and his mind blank. he’s not the only one who’s noticed, either, as one of the coaches comes over to have a look at him, coercing him back into the fold and closer to where the rest of shiratorizawa is gathered.

“you still don’t look great,” he says, and eita snorts.

“i’ll be okay,” he mutters.

“still wanna run?” he asks, and eita nods. “alright, that’s your choice. just take it easy until then. keep yourself hydrated. you eat enough this morning?” another nod. “good. come grab someone if you get worse.”

it’s less than ten seconds. he’s only in one event. and it’s nationals, for crying out loud. even if he was dying eita still wouldn’t give up his chance to run.

but when he finally steps into his lane, he feels like his insides have been replaced with cotton. he squeezes his eyes shut and his vision clears, but he still feels slow, heavy. uncoordinated.

at least he knows he can stay in-between his own set of lines. he has enough awareness to position himself with the others, and to hear the signal to start.

that’s about the only thing he remembers. one of the coaches hands him a water when he comes off the track, tells him to eat something. he sits in the grass and drains half the bottle, then nearly passes out.

eventually he does end up falling asleep. he doesn’t feel any better when he’s woken up, but he’s regained enough awareness to put that as secondary, and his results as priority.

when he sees them his heart falls.

-

at eita’s first athletics nationals for the 100m sprint he clocks in at 8.6 seconds. the time is still leagues above his peers, and the only ones ahead of him are third-years.

he places fourth.

even with a remarkable time in his less-than-perfect condition, it’s still not enough for a medal.

the head coach finds him on the field as the sun is setting, and everything is beginning to wrap up. he sits easy beside eita, who rests with his head on his knees. “you still feel sick?”

“sorta?” eita mumbles. he’d eaten lunch, and drank a lot of water and pocari, and camped out in the shade near the bleachers. he’d thought, briefly, about watching other events -at the very least the event of the senpai who’d watched out for him- but he just hadn’t felt well enough to try.

“you timed in at under nine seconds feeling like shit,” coach says bluntly, and eita blinks, moving his head to face him properly. he shrugs. “c’mon, semi, you’re sixteen. i know you’ve heard worse.”

he wasn’t wrong, but it still was a little unexpected.

“you’re the only sixteen-year-old to place in the top twenty. wanna know how i know? because there’s only fifteen slots for 100 meter at nationals, and there’s not another first year around who’s come even close to touching those times. i’ve had enough people on my ass this afternoon telling me that to start to believe it.”

“people have been talking about me?” eita mutters in quiet disbelief.

“yeah, kid, had to beat ‘em off with a stick. wasn’t gonna let anyone interview you while you still looked like you would keel over at any moment. i saved you the trouble, let me tell you.”

he leans back further, gaze rising to the sky, as eita blinks and tries to come to terms with this.

“you didn’t do as well as you wanted, but you still did pretty damn amazing. fourth in the country out of people between sixteen and eighteen is nothing to scoff at. you’ve given me a lot to consider.”

eita looks up. “like what?”

coach shrugs, climbing to his feet and holding out a hand for eita. “i’ll decide on the train. you’ll hear about it by the time the new term starts.” he grins, pulls eita close to pat him on the back. “good work today. can’t wait to see what you’ll do when you’re in good condition.”

-

as promised, eita is greeted with news coming into the second term. big news.

even though he didn’t place at nationals, the head coach allows him a training exemption -two days a week with the team, and that was it. that was all he was obligated for, anyway. if he wanted to show up every day, they’d be happy to have him. if he wanted to focus on his own regimen, well, the staff knew how serious he was, and were happy to oblige him to a certain extent.

semi forks over his adjusted training regimen and has it added on to by one of the assistant coaches, and then sent loose. he pushes himself, balancing mediocre classwork with punishing workouts, and begins to spend less and less time with the team as a whole.

winter break comes and he again borrows one of the gym keys -this time asking the head coach directly. the granted request marks a sudden shift in eita’s mindset. they’re watching me, he realizes. it’s euphoric. he’s a first-year at a powerhouse school like shiratorizawa, and yet he’s being given this special attention.

by the time third term rolls around, it’s too cold to bother with anything but indoor workouts. eita is a regular occurrence in the staff room to borrow and return the gym key. he takes care of his health when he goes running outside. and he pushes himself, faster and harder and further and higher, to the point it becomes noticeable by his peers when he shows up for team practice that he was aiming for another level.

year 2 |

eita gets asked at the opening ceremony to show up to the first day of tryouts, so during the second week of the new term, he forgoes his study period to head out early to the field. none of the first-years are there yet, since school isn’t technically out, but a handful of second and third-years are, gathered close with the coaching staff.

there’s no skirting around them, especially since he didn’t know the reason his presence was required. one of the assistant coaches gets his attention and beckons him closer.

“i’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here,” he says, and eita nods. he grins, holding up a stopwatch next. “it’s about time to reevaluate your record, right?”

oh. oh. suddenly he feels a million times more excited.

“there’s a little more to it than that,” he continues, but eita could care less at this point. “not that you stuck around long enough to see it, but those of you here are our little exhibition gang for the next few days. something for the new kids to be excited about. it’s one thing to know shiratorizawa’s accolades by name, but it’s another thing entirely to see the competition yourself. so we’re re-assessing a handful of you now rather than at official practice, and in return, the first-years get to see what the track and field team is made of.”

“fine by me,” eita answers, nearly unable to keep still. he was used to being watched at this point. and this was beneficial for him, too, so who cared, really?

the coach rolls his eyes. “somehow i knew you’d be less-than-interested in that last part. but that’s okay. the group for day one is everyone you see here, and there will be separate groups for the other two days, so after we’re done with you today we’ll just see you again when practice starts.”

eita was ushered off to join the other students until tryouts began, with instructions to come find that particular short-distance coach so they could time him and cut him loose. he’s greeted after a minute by the relay girl he’d met at nationals, and they engage in idle conversation about the new school year until a plethora of students start to trickle in through the gates.

“i know it’s intended to be the other way around, but this is a good chance to observe them, too,” she ends up saying, and eita, confused, turns back to her. she rolls her eyes. “you never know who’ll end up being your competition. i remember last year, everyone was kinda shocked when a first-year timed in at under ten seconds on a sprint.”

it takes him a moment -too long, really- to catch on, but when he does, he sits up straight in a hurry, pointing to himself. she throws her head back and laughs, her long ponytail trailing on the track.

“you do what you want,” she tells him. “but keep in mind: it’s not a bad idea to watch at how they do.”

one of the older girls calls to her, and she jumps up to go get her hair braided before tryouts really began. eita sits, partially shocked, and thinks that this year, it would maybe be a good idea to not be so self-absorbed.

-

he thinks that, but in actuality, he doesn’t engage with the first-years at all. he stays around the short-distance group his assigned coach was watching over, and while he’s close enough to watch, he’s also far enough for them to not try and engage him. it probably helps that he’s in his track jacket, so they know he’s an upperclassman and not another first-year for them to try and make friends with.

the coach signals for him after he’s warmed up, and eita moves to the track where a third-year short-distance runner was waiting. his arms go over his head in a stretch as the third-year takes a seat near him on the infield, glancing to the coach waiting at the finish mark.

“okay,” eita puffs out, crouching down. “ready.”

the third-year moves to face their coach entirely, cupping his hands over his mouth to be heard over the bustle that was tryouts. eita’s fingertips tense on the track.

“go!” he shouts, more for the coach’s benefit than eita’s own, and eita rockets off. any lingering thoughts he’d had before that moment evaporate. he has a sole focus, leaving no room for anything, not even the pounding of his heart in his chest.

he breaks around three feet after the line, puffing out breaths and feeling the heat of the sun stark on his skin after the exertion. after giving himself a moment he turns to see the coach jotting something down on a clipboard. he glances up and nods at eita, and eita comes closer, meeting up with the third-year that hangs half a step back.

“6.1,” he’s told, and eita’s eyes widen. even if it’s within expectations, the notion that he’d improved is sending him. his mind keeps flashing back to the scoreboard at fukui, to the leading two times. if he could outrun those now, and he would only keep getting better, then. then-

“you’ve shaved off .3 seconds from this time last year. very nice.” the coach nods behind eita, and eita cocks his head slightly and then turns it fully over his shoulder when he finds the head coach standing close by, hands on his hips.

“nice going, kid,” he says, and eita nods. a clap on his shoulder has him looking forward again. the third-year is grinning, lips pulled wide enough to show teeth.

“that’s amazing, semi-kun! i’ve never met anyone with that kinda time before.”

“thanks,” he mutters, suddenly numbed by all the praise. shit, he could be able to thank this guy by name. he didn’t even know what event he ran. was it the 300m? the 150?

the hand moves from his shoulder to his hair, ruffling the two-toned strands, but eita is unbothered, letting it happen. “we’re done, right?” he asks the short-distance coach.

“you two can go,” he assures them. “but take semi by the mids before that. i want him to see kawanishi, and they should be about to start.”

“got it!”

eita lets himself be dragged away, towards another end of the field. “who’s kawanishi?” he mumbles.

“a first-year high jumper. well, that’s what he’s known for, but field events are tomorrow, and they wanted him to try an 800 meter today.”

“hm.”

they take a seat near the mids group, more aligned with the edge of the track. it’s easy enough to spot kawanishi before he’s pointed out to eita -he’s the tallest one there. definitely looked like a high jumper. did he even have the stamina for two laps? long legs weren’t everything.

but thoughts like those quickly dissipate when the first six are lined up and take off. he tunes out his upperclassman to watch, overanalyzing as the mid-distance runners ran around the track. kawanishi wasn’t bad, actually. he needed to pace himself better, but if they thought he was a good fit, the coaches would teach him how.

his form is good. eita hasn’t seen textbook form like that in a long time. he wonders, briefly, if that was kawanishi’s style, or if he didn’t know any other way just yet.

regardless, he clocks in first out of his group. when he crosses the line eita finds that he’s been leaning forward, and sits back in a hurry. his companion muffles a laugh and eita huffs, standing. “that was it, right?”

“almost,” the third-year says, cheerful, and jumps to his feet as well. “swing by the clubroom with me. i’m supposed to give you taiju’s things.” eita must look confused again, because he’s grabbed by the elbow and hauled off. “geez, you’ve never been to the clubroom, huh? i know you don’t show up to practice that much, but c’mon, semi-kun, that’s like, a sacred space! especially now that you’re a second-year, you should practically be living there!”

“i remember a taiju, i think,” eita mutters.

“he was the third-year 100 meter runner the year before. club vice captain? clocked in at ninth in nationals? any of this ringing a bell?”

“uh, sorry,” eita ends up saying, throwing his head back.

“dude, don’t beat yourself up about it.” they stop and eita looks back down to see the other jangling a key into a scuffed door. “he’s only the guy you outran while you were on the verge of heat exhaustion.” he snickers. “plus, he’s gone now, so there’s no one around to offend, right? let me look -ah, here it is.” he pulls out a stack from a cubby and gestures eita closer. “coach wanted you to have his keys, said something about you not bothering him anymore for ‘em.”

“oh.” eita takes them numbly. “thanks.”

the other shrugs. “eh, he said it fondly, so i don’t think he was too pinched up about it. take care of those, alright? here, he left these too.”

eita is handed a thin plastic bag, and his grip goes tighter on it when he realizes what they were. “really?”

“yeah, he wasn’t gonna run in college, so he left his spare spikes here. they’re pretty cool, i think he got them from overseas. well, it’s your choice if you wanna use them, alright? don’t feel like you have to or anything.”

“i don’t really use spikes,” eita admits. “i mean, i haven’t really tried.”

“first time for everything, right?” when eita looks up the third-year is smiling. “if you do decide to try ‘em out, you’ll have top-dollar ones to experiment with.”

this year really was . . starting to look different. and season hadn’t even started yet.

-

the second week of practice, and the third time semi shows up in the new term, the track team is graced by a visitor.

eita is collapsed on the slanted part of the hill leading away from the track after an exercise, breathing deep and clenching a water bottle tight in his hands. he raises it up for a drink when a loud ‘HEY!’ gets his attention, and ends up squirting water in his face, gasping at the cold sensation. one of the other runners near him breaks out into laughter. he’s not the only one, and eita sits up to look over his shoulder, catching the offender as he meanders down the hill.

he’s tall, even doubled-over, having caught sight of eita’s accident and burst into this howling laughter that immediately gains the attention of everyone around who had overlooked him. eita purses his lips, setting the bottle in the grass between his legs.

“s-sorry, i didn’t meant to scare ya like that!” he assures eita, but his expression suggests he didn’t quite mean it.

“what are you doing here, tendou?” someone asks, and now eita has a name to put with the face.

“just checking in,” he says, waving the other off. he’s still in his school uniform, eita notes, even after school had been out for a- wait, checking in for what!?

“student council need something?” someone else asks. “what did we do for the vice president himself to come all the way out here?”

tendou flaps his hand harder, if possible. “nothing! i’m serious. i’m supposed to go check in with the clubs throughout the week, see that everything is running smoothly. it’s just a courtesy visit.”

“where’s ushijima, then? the president too good for courtesy visits?”

“waka’s at practice,” tendou states, a little too blunt. he stops short, hands in his pockets now, and a little too close for eita’s liking. “he’s done his share, so i told him to skip out today. i’ll bring him next time.” he perks up. “oh! yama’s here! later!”

he runs off, shouting loudly for one of the mid-distance runners, and eita collapses in the grass again, breathing out slow now that the wake of the hurricane has passed.

-

it’s the same day the following week that the student council shows up at the track field. eita spots the shock of red hair from across the field and inwardly grimaces. as expected, over time the volume rises, and by the time eita’s group is given a moment to cool down, two sets of footsteps are fast approaching.

“oh, perfect, you’re done,” tendou addresses the group as a whole, and eita closes his eyes as he flops to the ground, no longer willing to squint up at the bright sun.

“for now,” someone says.

“hey, you brought the president this time!” someone else says, and eita risks the sun to open his eyes.

before he can make out the other properly, coach is urging them all to get up. three laps around the track, and then they were good to go. eita is relieved, honestly. it had been a long enough practice already, and he didn’t really wanna be stuck around the two outsiders for longer than necessary.

his luck doesn’t last, though, as his name is called halfway through his second lap. eita slows to a jog, then stops entirely when he sees just who was vying for his attention, trying his best not to gawk.

the man was a hulk, for lack of a better word. if he hadn’t been in a student uniform, eita would’ve thought him a teacher. he blinks, pointing to himself, and the guy nods, moving down the hill a little to get closer. eita purses his lips, looks to the side at the others running, then sighs and moves to the outside lane.

“who’s this guy, waka?” tendou asks, and damn if he didn’t come out of nowhere, making eita jump, unable to contain himself as he’s startled. tendou blinks in surprise, then his face lights up, placing eita from the week before.

“semi eita,” waka says. “we’re in the same class.”

“we-” eita cuts himself off before he can finish embarrassing himself. if this guy says they were, eita would believe him. the student council president definitely had more social awareness than the likes of him.

he seems to catch on anyways, frowning slightly and offering his hand. eita takes it after hesitating long enough for it to matter. “ushijima wakatoshi,” he tells eita, and eita nods, reminding himself to commit the name to memory.

“hah? you mean you have waka in class and don’t even remember?” tendou starts laughing. “how do you miss a presence like that?”

eita turns his head to the side, fighting back a blush. ushijima must take pity on him, because he gestures to another group of people further down the way. “satori, there’s still more people, right?”

“yeah, yeah, go on ahead,” tendou says, waving him off. ushijima shrugs.

“good to see you, semi-kun.”

“uh, sure,” eita mumbles.

he turns to get back into a center lane, but tendou stops him. “hey, wait! i wanted to ask you something.”

eita’s careful as he bites down on his lip. “what is it?”

“your hair is neat!” tendou’s smile shows all his teeth, this time. “did you do it yourself?”

“oh.” eita reaches up subconsciously, fingering the darker tips. “yeah, last summer.” he probably needed to do it again, since he’d gotten his hair cut since then. though he’d really just been planning on growing it out, so that he wouldn’t have to mess with it for a while.

before tendou can say anything else, eita points to the track. “i’m. um. gonna go.”

“yeah yeah yeah.” tendou flaps his hand again and eita fights back a grimace. must be a habit or something. “thanks for letting me steal your time. i’ll let you get back to it.”

-

eita picks a different day of the week to show up for practice. the reason he gives isn’t anything special, but he was unwilling to admit the true reason was so that he could avoid the student council.

unfortunately it doesn’t matter.

he has his shoes off so he can balance his heel on his shoulder better, camped out on the grass a little further apart from the others moving about the field. once he feels like he can do it, he leans back and uses his hand to push his leg up by the ankle, until it’s extended all the way in the air. he sets his other hand back in the grass and breathes out, mentally counting down to when he could release.

“damn, you’re pretty flexible, huh?”

eita’s arm falters and his leg curls a little. he leans back to see around it, and his face goes carefully blank when he sees tendou satori standing there. he lets his leg drop fully, foot loud on the grass.

“what?”

“bet that’s good for all sorts of things,” tendou says, and eita frowns. he really needed to stretch his other leg, but like hell was he going to put himself on display for tendou to see, not after that comment. he moves his arm across his chest instead, looking straight ahead across the field.

“don’t you have other people to bother?” he says after he’s done with both arms, then promptly snaps his jaw shut, a little mortified. he hadn’t meant to say that. out loud.

tendou takes it in stride, laughing as he settles on the grass. “i’m just checking up,” he assures eita. “don’t have to go talk to everyone. i’m too busy today anyways.”

“then why me?” eita mutters, and if his ears are red then he can’t help it.

“you’re interesting.” eita frowns, glancing over at him. “no, really. i’m not being mean or anything. you just seem like a cool guy, semi-kun.”

“i’m pretty average,” he mumbles.

“yama says you’re good at your event.”

eita raises a brow and tendou rolls his eyes. “seriously? do you know anyone in your grade? yamagata hayato! he’s a mid-distance runner?”

“um.” eita turns away again. “uh.”

“semi! you ready or what?” someone shouts from across the field. eita takes the chance and climbs to his feet.

“gotta go,” he mutters. then he leaves tendou to sit there.

-

“waka!” a voice drawls out, and eita, who had bent down to retrieve a fallen object, jumps, ramming his head on the underside of his desk. he breathes out in pain, moving back to his knees, and his hand comes up to feel around his head.

“oh? semisemi, is that you?”

“what?” eita opens his eyes to squint, glancing to the open classroom door. tendou stood in front of it, one hand still on the handle.

“what are you doing on the ground, semisemi?” tendou moves fully into the near-empty room, hands in his pockets. eita drops his hand from his hair and slowly moves to his feet.

“that’s not my name,” he mutters, placing his pen back on his desk.

“oh, come now.” tendou waves his hand. “haven’t you ever heard of nicknames?”

“don’t people get those from their friends?”

tendou stumbles back for dramatics, holding a hand over his heart. “semisemi! you wound me. and here i thought we had something special.”

eita rolls his eyes and resumes packing up his bag.

“hey, have you seen waka around?”

“ushijima-san already left. no, i don’t know where.”

“oh. hum. too bad.” tendou’s eyes are still on him, curious, and he leans back against an empty desk. “you’re not in a rush to leave. no practice today?”

“not today,” eita answers, zipping his bag shut. it was actually one of his days off, since he’d been coerced into taking a day of rest during the week, so there wasn’t any self-practice, either. hm. actually, now that he thought about it, maybe he shouldn’t have said-

“then come do something with me!” tendou proclaims, and eita falters, missing he bag’s straps and dropping it down onto the chair instead. he forgets it momentarily to stare up at tendou, who doesn’t give him a moment to refuse or reconsider. “i have to gain that friendship status if i want nickname rights, right? don’t suddenly tell me you have stuff to do, either! even if you do, well, i’ll just come with you! moral support! the works!”

he truthfully only caught about half of that, and that was enough for a headache to develop. eita frowns and picks up his bag proper. “i don’t have anything to do,” he mumbles. “but-”

“so it’s settled!”

“don’t you have student council things to take care of?”

“already done!” tendou kicks off the ground to sit fully on the desk, swinging his legs in the air. “i was gonna grab waka, but this works better! c’mon, semisemi, we’ll do anything you want. it’s your off day, so you can treat yourself, right? let’s go get ice cream! i’ll buy you some taiyaki! can’t go wrong with kakigori!”

“why are they all food related?” eita mutters, then shakes his head. “fine, okay. we can go.”

“yes!” tendou jumps from the desk and raises his arms high. the next moment he’s dragging eita from the classroom and down the hall. “oh this is gonna be so much fun. there’s a combini not far from here me and waka hit up sometimes, they have the cutest cashier, you’ll love it, i swear.”

eita pulls his phone out on the outskirts of school grounds, sending a quick message to his mom that he’d be home later than usual. tendou catches on and stops talking, trailing back from where he’s ahead of eita to look down at the phone.

“who’s that?”

“my mom?” eita snaps the phone shut and stuffs it in a pocket. “i’m usually home by now on fridays, so.”

“you don’t live in the dorms?” eita shakes his head and tendou hums, leaning his head back with one hand under his chin. “come to think of it, i’ve never seen you around. still, i didn’t think we had any commuters at shiratorizawa.”

“home isn’t far,” eita mutters. “school is already expensive as is.”

“you don’t have a sports scholarship?”

“it doesn’t cover it all,” eita admits. “really, it’s not that big a deal. can we talk about something else?”

tendou loops his arm through eita’s own. “sure thing, semisemi!” he gets dragged up a set of steps, then automatic doors open for a rush of cold air to greet them. “here’s the place i was talking about. taka-chan! hi!”

eita looks over to see the girl behind the register wave at them, a slightly exasperated smile on her face. he’s tugged over to the freezer before he can contemplate that.

they sit against the railings outside the store while they eat so they can catch the shade. it’s not bad. tendou had paid for his melon ice, and it was amazing to watch him tackle his own double popsicle, insisting he could finish both.

eita ends up finishing first, and in the end they start moving before tendou has a chance to toss his second popsicle stick. they trail up the road and tendou starts whining when he’s halfway done, complaining of a stomachache.

“gari-gari-kun would be disappointed,” eita drones, as he watches melted blue spill onto the sidewalk. tendou whines louder and eita hides a snort with both hands, turning his head away.

“so mean to me, semisemi. won’t even help me finish.”

“you took on that challenge all on your own. leave me out of it.”

“mmmm, i guess.” tendou sighs and drops the hand with the now-empty stick to his side. his fingers are all sticky. “hey, where are we going?”

eita perks up. “you have to go back, right? i was-”

“yeah,” tendou drawls, cutting eita off. “but not now. being there is so stifling sometimes. plus, i’ll have to work when i get back!”

eita raises a brow. “i thought you said you already finished?” tendou turns away and his lips curl up. “or is this you running away?”

“it’s n-” tendou cuts himself off, face suddenly as red as his hair. “not,” he mutters, quieter. “maybe,” he finishes.

“the vice president, skipping out on his duties.” eita shakes his head. “what will people think?”

“nothing if you don’t tell them,” tendou bites, moving closer and raising his sticky hands. “got it, semisemi?”

eita moves back, shuddering. “don’t you dare.”

“i bought you ice cream.”

“i took you off campus.”

“i made your day more exciting!” tendou winks and eita rolls his eyes.

“i’m indulging you.”

“yeah, you are.” tendou steps back. “let me walk you home.”

“huh?”

“you have to go back, right?” he says, echoing eita’s earlier words. “i’ll take you there. don’t worry, i’m good with directions, and i have waka on speed-dial if i get lost.”

eita blinks. “if you’re trying to be convincing you’re doing a terrible job. what’s in it for me?”

“getting to bring a friend home to your mom?”

eita crosses his arms over his chest. tendou tries again.

“helping a friend shirk his responsibilities for a little longer?”

“mhmm.”

“semisemi, please! i’m begging you!” he falls to the ground. “i’m on my knees!”

eita, unable to contain his act any longer, bursts into laughter. tendou’s expression breaks as he realizes he’s being messed with, and he reaches forward with his hands again. eita jumps back, laughing harder, a little more panicked now. tendou stumbles to his feet and eita runs off, not surprised that the other follows.

“i have long legs, semisemi!” tendou calls.

“if you think that means you can outrun me, that’s a bad call,” eita answers, speeding up around a corner. he spins on his heel to break and presses himself to the concrete wall, watching with baited breath as tendou appears and moves right past him, then pauses several paces away, confused.

“this is my street,” eita admits, and tendou whips around. eita points ahead. “we just go all the way down, then take a left. easy, right?”

“oh.” tendou stops, panting from the exertion. “easy,” he echoes. “sure.” he swallows, regaining some of his composure. “you can run really fast.”

eita raises a brow and tendou waves him off. “i know, i know. let’s just go already.”

-

there’s a practice meet with two other schools a week before midterms. perhaps because of this, shiratorizawa hosts, enabling their live-in student population the option of not having to travel while they were busy trying to cram for tests.

for eita, it didn’t really matter that much. he had always tested well. as long as he had the practical portions down, any sort of written exam wasn’t something he bothered himself with stressing over.

the rest of the team was another story. he discovers this when he walks into the clubroom on the day of the meet.

papers are strewn absolutely everywhere, enough so that he has a hard time walking around them all. about seven people are gathered around the low table in the corner, and the rest are laid out across the floor, each inhabiting their own space with textbooks, highlighters, notecards -the works. eita feels like he’s entered through a portal into another world. his presence doesn’t get much attention. those that do notice only offer a simple greeting before resuming their studying.

eita does his best to maneuver around it all and plant himself in front of his cubby, pushing his bag into the space and unbuttoning his summer uniform. he pulls on a loose shirt and ties his jacket to his waist, and only then does he bother addressing the room as a whole.

“y’know, there’s only an hour until we start,” he says, raising his voice just a little. it takes a moment for everyone to process, and then one more for the tumultuous effect to appear, people scrambling to their feet, the sound of books shutting audible as they raced to get out of their uniforms.

eita opts to leave the chaos behind, trailing from the room with his shoes in hand.

there’s already people at the field, but they all leave eita alone. he walks along the concrete until another path becomes unavoidable, then sits out of the way to put his shoes on, observing the surroundings as he does so.

the ones in green he thinks are datekogyo. he doesn’t know about the others -he hadn’t really asked, either. eita rolls onto the grass proper and moves himself into a more isolated corner of the hill, spreading his legs out in front of him.

“semi-san?”

“mm?” he pulls his head back to see a ginger in purple standing behind him. something about him is strangely familiar.

“mii-san is looking for you. said something about causing an uproar earlier.”

it takes a moment to click, and when it does eita resumes stretching with a snort. “their own fault,” he mutters. “where is she?”

“helping another school get settled.”

“that’s the captain for ya.” eita throws his arms over his head and locks his hands in a stretch. “okay, thanks for telling me. i’ll go see her in a minute.”

“taichi!” someone calls, and the shadow over eita disappears. he locks his knees and splays out sideways on the ground, twisting to stretch his midsection and hips at the same time.

mii’s long hair is already braided when he reaches her. she’s still in conversation, but pins him with a look that has him stiffen where he stands, waiting until she’s done. when she breaks away, it’s to a stab a finger to his chest that has eita reflexively moving back.

“i know you were trying to help, but have some tact next time, please.” she rolls her eyes as eita opens his mouth to protest. “some of them practically live in the clubroom right now. they’re stressed enough as is with midterms coming up. don’t make it worse.”

“got it,” he mutters.

“tai-kun grabbed you, right?”

eita raises his head, blinks. “the . . ginger?”

“oh.” mii covers a laugh with her hand and eita frowns. “i thought you had gotten better with names. kawanishi taichi. the first year in high jump? you saw him at tryouts, right?”

“isn’t he a mid?” eita remembers the face, now that he thinks about it. “his form was all stiff, though.”

“that’s what he’s trying today. i think they wanted him on a 300 too, but his field event happens at the same time, so it’s a no-go.” she shrugs, and a call of her name captures her attention. “anyway, i just wanted you to see him again. play nice with the first years today!”

-

short-distance events are the last of the running events this time -if you didn’t count relays, that is- so that gives eita plenty of time to warmup and then sit back and do whatever. it’s during some of this downtime that a loud call of his full name has him turning to attention, spying a burly man in dark green approaching.

eita points to himself in question and the man’s face lights up. “i thought so!” he calls, louder even as he’s far closer than last time. “it’s been- oh, right! introductions.” he holds out a hand. “i’m kamasaki yasushi! we ran against each other in-”

“middle school,” eita finishes, finally placing the face. “you’ve gotten taller. uh. a lot taller.”

kamasaki throws his head back and laughs, loud enough to attract unwanted attention. if eita hadn’t already been subjected to the whirlwind known as tendou satori, he might’ve been intimidated.

“word is you’ve gotten faster! can’t wait to see it in person.” he holds out a fist. “may the best man win.”

eita bumps it with his own, accepting the challenge. “sure thing.”

-

he ends up corralled into watching the mid-distance events, having nothing better to do at that point. one in particular catches his attention, and he squints down at the track as he spies familiar ginger hair.

“oh, taichi-kun?” reo, one of the particular people that had roped him into this activity, and the secondary vice captain of the team, reclines back in his seat in the stands. he moves his hands from behind his head to below his chin as he muses. “hmm. i think it’s just the 800 meter today. he should do pretty well. he’s loosened up since pre-season, at least. but if you want my opinion, haya-chan is beating out everyone today.”

eita must look as outwardly confused as he feels inside, because reo rocks forward to point over the railing, at another shiratorizawa athlete pacing near the starting line. “yamagata hayato. he’s a second-year like you.”

“i’ve heard of him,” eita mutters.

reo smirks, leaning back again. “well, guess that’s the bare minimum. his older brother, hayashi, has the school record for the 600 meter. he was outgoing when i was a first-year, got injured or something, so that’s about all i know. haya-chan’s real serious about running. he’s kinda like you, in that respect. though, he definitely has more social awareness.”

eita hunches further into his seat. “you don’t have to rub it in.”

reo laughs, reaching over to slap eita’s back. “i’m just messing with you! cheer up, kid.”

“hm.”

he can’t lie that he’s intrigued by yamagata, knowing he was the one tendou was always running to when he showed for practice. but as the first heat lines up, his attention diverts to kawanishi.

eita doesn’t really . . mid-distance events were fine, but it still took a minute for the results. it wasn’t like watching short-distance, way less engaging, but it was at least more entertaining than watching the mile-runners.

eita’s interest dips after the first several seconds, and he feels his eyes wander over the gathered crowd in the stands. he’s not sure who he’s looking for, among all the students that had come out perhaps for a break from studying, but he doesn’t find them before there’s a swell in noise that has him facing the track again, watching several runners enter the last lap.

kawanishi taichi’s form really has loosened, but he’s not sure that’s a good thing. he seems more lanky in his movements now, and while his long legs made up for it, the dip in speed was still noticeable.

he ends up crossing the finish line in third. it’s close, but there’s still another heat, so eita has doubts about him placing.

“not bad,” reo mumbles, leaned on the railing. he crosses his arms over each other and looks over at eita. “for someone new at it.”

“good point,” eita answers. he watches as yamagata moves to clap his junior on the back, taking his place in the same lane. eita can’t tell -he thinks kawanishi looks off-put. whether it’s from the results or yamagata’s reassurance is up in the air.

“i think haya-chan is really gunning for ishikawa this year,” reo notes.

eita blinks. “ishi- what’s there?”

“nationals.”

eita frowns. “there hasn’t been a confirmed location yet.”

reo rolls his eyes. “my god, you and mii are both the same. it’s between ishikawa and ibaraki. and ishikawa is further to travel to, so why not get my hopes up for it?”

“but we went to the west coast last year.”

“ishikawa is twice as long a trip as ibaraki,” reo argues, holding up two fingers and moving them apart to illustrate his point.

“i think you need to get out more,” semi says, before the other can begin a tirade he really doesn’t want to hear.

“all i’m saying is-”

the starting shot interrupts reo, and they both turn to watch as the second heat takes off. yamagata instantly pulls a lead, but he’s pacing himself, because it doesn’t last, two people on his heels once they’re out of the first bend. eita loses interest on the second straight, but reo’s narration keeps him entertained enough to keep his eyes from wandering.

“see how they’re dropping off now? but watch haya-chan. he’s not speeding up or slowing down -it’s all been the same pace since the beginning.”

he was right. lap two comes around, and everyone besides yamagata was beginning to stagger, losing form or speed as they tried to push themselves, or recover from an earlier stint. he comes around the final bend several paces ahead of the rest, and in the final stretch pushes off into a dead sprint, easily placing first.

“wow,” eita mutters, as he lets reo stand and wrap an arm around his neck and shout in celebration. the crowd goes crazy and then settles as the results are compiled, and reo releases eita to stretch his arms above his head.

“alright, time for me to go.”

“good luck out there,” eita tells him, and he tosses him a thumbs-up in return before running off.

-

eita is on the infield, spread-eagle, when it finally gets dark enough to switch on the stadium floodlights. he takes it in stride, eyeing the setting sun, and is grateful that there was no school the following day.

“must be nice to have a two minute walk home,” he mutters to himself, thinking about everyone that lived on campus.

“there you are, semi! ready to go?”

he looks up from his legs to see the head coach ambling over. he can’t make out his eyes underneath the shade of the hat he wore, but his lips were pulled into a low grin, and that was enough to go on.

“ready,” he replies. “you sticking around to watch?”

“well, i’ll see what happens. there are a few things going on that i’ll have my eye on.”

eita nods, bending his legs so the bottoms of his feet press together. his shoes are in the grass to the side. coach eyes them for a moment.

“you got taiju’s old spikes, right? thought about trying them out yet?”

eita hums. “maybe. i don’t know. that seems like a big change to make.” he relaxes his legs, sitting up properly. “what i do now works.”

coach shrugs. “just a thought. you do what you want.” his pocket buzzes and he pulls out his phone. “hm. gotta run. i’ll find you again later, alright?”

“yeah.” eita waves him off, settling back to pull on his shoes and tighten the laces.

there’s only one heat for the 100m, and it supercharges eita, knowing he didn’t get the chance to instantly know results like this very often. kamasaki catches his eye from the far lane, but eita only distractedly nods at him, already slipping into hyper-focus mode. his record for the new term was 6.1s. as long as he aimed for that, he was golden.

he presses his fingerpads onto the track, looking up from them to eye the finish line. in, and out.

the breeze ruffles his hair, but he’s never let his bangs grow long enough to fall into his eyes. everything he does prepares him to run. every inconvenience considered.

his toes curl in his shoes, and very briefly, he wonders what a little more traction would feel like.

then the signal fires, and all his wonders disappear, taken up by one single focus.

he breaks easy three steps after the line, one foot in front of the other, and takes a moment to breathe. then he looks up to the scoreboard, not a moment too late, results flickering into the screen.

6.12 seconds. that was his time. second place was in the nines, and everyone else fell from there.

eita breathes out again, lifting his hands to rest on his head. that was the best he’d ever done, and it was for a practice meet.

“god, semi, they really weren’t kidding with saying you got faster!”

eita snaps out of it as kamasaki approaches. he didn’t catch the first part, but context wasn’t needed as he continues, so eita forgets about it.

“six seconds? that’s almost unbelievable, man.” kamasaki shakes his head. “here i was, thinking my height gave me an edge. you sure proved me wrong.”

eita glances at the scores again, confirming kamasaki’s time was second. “yours is still good,” he says, and kamasaki wrinkles his nose, so he presses on. “no, really. it’s not pity. that’s a top time in miyagi for sure.”

kamasaki laughs, but it’s awkward. his hand lands on eita’s shoulder. “well, thanks. good job today. it’s hard to believe we’re the same age.”

a roar from the crowd leaves them both distracted, and eita angles his head to the side of the field. “what’s that?” he mutters.

“i think high jump is still going on,” kamasaki confesses. “or maybe it’s triple. listen, i gotta run, i’m in a relay event soon. it was good to see you!” he pounds a fist to his chest. “next time i won’t lose!”

eita watches him go, replaying their conversation in his head as something catches his attention. he only realizes it was the comment about height, the same thing tendou had said to him, when mii comes up from behind and pokes at the backs of his knees, leaving him stumbling forward.

“sorry i missed it, but hey, that time speaks for itself,” she says, laughing off his annoyed expression. “seriously, how are you a highschooler? that much dedication should be illegal.”

“you really sure you wanna say that, captain?” eita quips.

she raises her hands in surrender. “hey, all i’m saying is that there are limits. you better do well on midterms, alright, or coach will have my head. even if you’re not here full-time, you’re still my responsibility as part of the team.” she hums, prying off her headband and smoothing back her hair so she can readjust it. “oh yeah, satori was looking for you earlier.”

eita perks up. “tendou?”

“don’t know what the vice pres wants, but he seemed pretty adamant about it, so i thought i’d warn you.” she jerks a thumb over her shoulder. “he should be near that way somewhere. well, field events are over now, so maybe now. worth a shot though.” she shrugs. “relay is starting, so i’m off. come watch if you have time!”

“good luck,” eita calls, moving away as well.

even with the swell in people, it’s not hard to spot tendou. ushijima is with him, but upon noticing eita, tendou breaks away to meet him, waving wildly.

“semisemi! i can’t believe you were competing- listen, this event we were watching was crazy! that first year you got has some serious talent.”

eita, confused, tips his head. “elaborate.”

“high jump! kawanishi-kun! yama made us watch, and wow, i’m glad he did. oh, did you see yama run? he’s pretty amazing, right? that’s really what i came for, but yama promised kawanishi-kun he’d watch his event, and then we got roped into it, and now the sun isn’t out anymore, but y’know, no school tomorrow, so it’s cool-”

“tendou,” eita interrupts, watching the other’s jaw snap shut. “mii-san said you needed me.”

“mayu? oh right! come with me!” tendou takes him by the arm and drags him forward, until they’re near ushijima again. “waka! look! i found him!”

“it was more like i found you,” eita mutters, but it goes unnoticed.

“hello, semi-kun,”ushijima says. eita nods back. “i look forward to working with you.”

“what?” eita stumbles, caught off-guard.

ushijima hums, taking his reaction in stride, then turns to tendou. “satori, you didn’t tell him yet, did you?”

tendou waves him off. “not yet, waka, geez, way to jump the gun. where’s yama?”

“with his junior.”

“oh fine then, forget about him. hey, semisemi, listen.” he turns to grab eita by both shoulders, and eita, shocked, lets it happen. “i need a favor.”

his lips downturn, slightly. “w-what?”

“be on our relay team for sports day.”

“huh?” eita deadpans, mentally tracking the dates. “but that’s weeks away!”

“it’s on june fifth,” ushijima supplies, and eita’s eyes fall shut.

“and student council’s already planned it,” he realizes. “why me, exactly?”

“we need a fourth person!” tendou finally releases him, stepping back. “and you’re perfect! no matter how far behind we are, if we put you as the last leg, it’s a guaranteed win! at least, that’s what yama said,” he finishes, trailing off and losing some of his energy with the last bit.

eita’s brows rise. “you have no idea, do you?”

tendou snaps his fingers. “relay runner. right? that’s why yama-”

“those are going on now.”

tendou falters, but he regains his energy in a heartbeat. “please be on our team!” he holds a thumbs-up and eita’s arms cross over his chest.

“if it’s that important to you, i suppose i can consider.”

“you’re messing with me again, aren’t you?” tendou mutters, turning his hand so it’s a thumbs-down.

eita snorts. “who plans out stuff this far in advance?”

“me! it’s literally my job!”

“oh, right.”

tendou sighs, turning to ushijima and slowly shaking his head.

eita shrugs. “well, if that’s all you-”

“wait, wait!” tendou yells, stopping up. “it’s late. come eat with us.”

“i can’t leave until this is all over,” eita admits, a little touched by the invite.

“then i’ll bring you something. you must be starved from being out here so long. here, give me your line.”

eita feels strangely coerced, as he enters his line info into tendou’s phone, but he doesn’t mind, either. his own phone was still sitting in his jacket, out on the field. he should probably go grab it.

“just sit somewhere i can reach you,” tendou tells him, and eita assures him he would, waving the two off. he could at least get his jacket before retreating to the outskirts again. it was cold, even for may. and tendou was right -he was hungry. even if he went home to a hot meal waiting, it would still have to be after everything was wrapped up here, and that would take time.

it was. nice. for him to bring eita something. to go out of his way like that.

he’d never had a friend quite like that before.

-

miracleboy. what can you even eat??? waka is being unhelpful miracleboy. theres fruit miracleboy. you want an apple? miracleboy. oh wait miracleboy. [photo attached]

eita is reclined on a higher part of the hill, having a better view of the entire track from up here. he’s distracted from relays by tendou’s incessant messages, but he doesn’t mind, smiling and rolling his eyes each time his phone chimes.

semieita the muffins look good

miracleboy. noted! ill grab a couple

semieita thanks

miracleboy. yama says hi, btw miracleboy. [photo attached]

eita squints up at his phone, opening the attachment to see a blurry picture of yamagata hayato halfway forming a peace sign. the background is obviously the school cafeteria.

semieita odd, since he’s supposed to be here

miracleboy. hes “““lost””” rn semisemi miracleboy. b back before it ends

semieita right. sure. got it. whatever you say

miracleboy. how can you b that sarcastic thru text

“semi-san?”

eita looks up from his phone to find kawanishi taichi hiking up closer, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. he drops his phone to his chest, sitting up a little more.

kawanishi stops short, looking ruffled. “have you seen yamagata-san around?”

“no,” eita says, perhaps a little too quickly. “but i can help, if you need something,” he tries, trying to smooth it over. “you’re kawanishi, right?”

“you can just call me taichi,” he mutters, face turned to the ground.

“taichi-kun, then.” eita blinks, as taichi stays like that. his phone buzzes and he pockets it, moving to properly sit up. “everything okay?”

“uh, yeah.” taichi shrugs. “sorry. i’m just a little lost.”

eita gestures to the grass and, after a moment, taichi sits down. “i saw your event,” he starts. this gains taichi’s attention, and he finally looks up again. “not the main one,” eita clarifies. “the 800. you did pretty well, for your first time.”

taichi’s lips quick up, turning wry. “not really my strong suit, huh? you should’ve seen my field event.”

“next time,” eita promises.

taichi perks up a little more. “really?”

“as long as they don’t overlap again.” he nods, committing before he can back out.

“i’d like that,” taichi admits. “and, um, you were really amazing today! i’ve never seen someone that fast in person.”

eita blinks, and then it all hits him, and he can’t believe he didn’t realize sooner. the bashfulness, the quiet, the wanting, the praise -kawanishi taichi, to a certain extent, looked up to eita.

it’s the first moment being an upperclassman has really hit him, really set in. he doesn’t know what to do with this information. actually, he has an idea, but he thinks trying to ruffle taichi’s hair would be too much.

“’in person’ is an interesting distinction to make.”

“well, i mean.” taichi turns his head to the side. “i’ve seen the olympics,” he mutters.

eita can’t help the laugh that tears from his throat. taichi doesn’t seem to mind. he wants to say something, eita can tell, but before he can eita’s phone starts going off, and he pries it from his pocket.

it’s tendou, calling. “what?” he answers.

“semisemi, thank god! i thought someone got you! how could you just not reply like that?”

eita’s smile is easy on his lips. “i was busy.”

“well, get un-busy! i need to know where you are.”

eita rolls his eyes and relays his location, then glances down at taichi. “hey, is yamagata sneaking back with you? tell him he forgot something.”

“shhh, semisemi, secret, remember? and forgot wha-”

there’s noise on the other end, muffled, though eita makes out a tai-chan in the midst.

“noted,” tendou eventually says. “see you soon. don’t move or anything! you’re a lot harder to find than i am!”

eita hangs up and tosses the phone into the grass next to his feet. “alright, kid, you’re all set. wanna wait here?” he points down to the field. “or you can join the party down there.”

literal, as all the members of the shiratorizawa boys 4x400m relay are dog-piled by their peers and then lifted into the air. the victory shouts reach all the way up here.

“oh, nao’s in there,” taichi says, mostly to himself. eita smiles and leans forward.

“go see him, then. yamagata will find you soon enough.”

“okay.” taichi stands, moves down a few feet, then turns back. “thanks, semi-san.”

eita waves him down.

-

“one delivery for semisemi!”

eita leans his head back to see tendou sliding down from over the incline. he presents a package made from a wrapped napkin that eita reaches up to carefully take.

inside are two mixed-berry muffins, each just smaller than his fist, and a handful of ocean crackers. there’s warmth coming from the muffins.

“thanks,” he says, while tendou takes a seat next to him, spreading his lanky limbs across the grass.

“no problem. oh hey, mayu’s race is starting!”

eita turns to the field with one of the muffins in hand, biting into it. he squints when he makes out the girls dressed in purple. “which one’s she?”

“there!” tendou points to the leadoff, and when she turns to address the others, her braid flies over her shoulder. eita hums.

“mii-san?” that would make this the 4x100m, and the last race of the night.

“yep. man, i’m glad i caught it, since she asked me to stay. would’ve had to ask someone for the results otherwise, and that’s a whole hassle, y’know?”

eita stuffs some of the crackers past his lips. “you mean, to make it seem like you watched?”

tendou winces, then turns hard to face him. “listen, semisemi, do you have any idea what mayu is like when she’s mad?”

“a little,” eita answers, recalling earlier that afternoon. he shivers, suddenly understanding. “good point.”

mayu. something about that bugged him. and, hadn’t she called him satori, earlier?

eita finishes the first muffin and glances over at tendou, finding him completely transfixed as all the relay runners get into position. well, if he came to that conclusion, it was understandable, right? it made sense, right?

eita finishes his food, and the girls win their race, and the two of them pick their way back down to solid ground as the commotion settles. eita hangs back a step or two behind tendou as he moves easily across a corner of the field and onto the track. “mayu!” he calls, gaining the track team captain’s attention with ease.

“satori!” she calls back, and then she’s swept up into a hug. “you actually stuck around!”

“you were amazing! are you like that every time? why aren’t you on top of the world yet?”

mii blushes at this, pushing him away. “that’s too much,” she says, and tendou backs off with a laugh.

“nice one, captain,” eita chimes in, and mii looks over at him, her eyes lighting up.

“semi!” she folds him into a hug, too, probably still high off the euphoria. “i know you’re glad this is all over. thanks for sticking around.”

“no problem,” he wheezes, and she releases him with a laugh that breaks into a thoughtful look.

“hey, how are you getting home? it’s so dark out now.”

eita shrugs. “i’ll-”

“you still have your bike, right?” she asks tendou. “why don’t you take him?”

“oho!” tendou claps his hands together. “i like the way you think, mayu. i even know the way,” he sings, dragging the last word out.

“don’t i get a say?” eita asks, disgruntled.

“nope!” both of them reply in sync, smiling at him.

“just tag along with this guy a little longer,” mii orders, pointing to tendou. “for my peace of mind.”

“i’ll have to go grab my bike,” tendou notes, and mii shrugs.

“you can go now. just meet semi at the clubroom.”

“isn’t there a meeting soon?” eita asks, gesturing to everyone around them packing up.

mii shakes her head. “yes and no. it’s not important. i’ll tell them you went home early. just remember there’s no practice next week.”

“sure i won’t miss anything?”

“i’ll message satori if it’s important.”

“why do i feel like you’re trying to get rid of me?”

“nah.” she flaps her hand, gesturing for him to go away. “you’re imagining it. try not to move anyone’s stuff around when you grab your things, okay, or i’ll have to kill you to appease the masses.”

that certainly explained away the ulterior motive. “sleeping there is unhealthy,” eita calls, once he’s further away.

“some of us don’t test well like you do!” mii shouts back as she takes off her headband. she moves it over her thumb and uses it like a slingshot, firing at another third-year who screams in response.

eita leaves behind the track field’s happy atmosphere for one of his own making. he throws his button-up on over his shirt, letting it hang open, and trades his shorts for shiratorizawa’s standard slacks, knowing it was only bound to get colder.

tendou is waiting for him when he leaves, sitting easy on a bicycle, legs splayed on the ground on either side of the front wheel. he looks up and his smile grows when he sees eita. “all ready?”

“there’s not a stand on the back,” eita notes, hesitance growing as he approaches. “how are we doing this?”

“pegs!” tendou kicks back at one and eita nearly rolls his eyes to the back of his skull.

“that’s one solution, i guess,” he mutters as he climbs up, placing his hands on tendou’s shoulders for balance. tendou hums and kicks off, and eita hopes his biking skills aren’t as wild as the rest of him.

surprisingly, there are no incidents. eita is deposited on his doorstep in good care, and he waves at tendou until he can’t make him out anymore before going inside.

-

eita is cooling off in the shade from a day’s worth of events when tendou finally manages to find him and inform him of their latest plight.

“what?” his face scrunches up. “yamagata’s sick? is he skipping? how does that even happen?”

“yama just has the worst luck like that,” tendou whines, stomping his foot. “waka went to find us a replacement, but as far as i know he’s only planning to ask reon, and he’s already on a team with the other volleyball second-years. we might be outta luck here.”

eita shrugs, not really that disappointed by it, even as tendou resumes his whining. eventually he lets tendou pull him to his feet, and they re-join the festivities.

“oh, but i did enter you in the 50 meter,” tendou says, the only part of his never-ending rant that eita tunes in to listen to, and it has him braking, so that tendou is forced to pause when he refuses to release eita’s arm.

“what?”

“the race?” tendou frowns. “you have to race, eita. especially since the relay is off. i know it’s not far, but c’mon, running is your thing. you’ll love it.”

“i wish you would’ve asked before doing it,” eita mutters, still refusing to budge.

“aw, c’mon semisemi, do it for yama! think at how miserable he is, missing out on all this.”

“yeah, whatever, i’ll do it.” he looks down at his sneakers. “but i need my shoes if i’m doing this for real.”

tendou perks back up. “then let’s go!”

eita raises a brow. “to the other side of the school? ha ha, tendou. very funny.”

“if we’re careful we can go and be back before anyone notices.”

“and since when are you careful or tactful about anything?”

tendou winks. “you’d be surprised. plus, i have a fallback card. and if you’re with me, it applies to you too.”

“yeah?” he crosses his arms. “let’s hear it, then.”

“student council perks mean i can run around the school without anyone batting an eye. if someone asks i’ll make up an excuse.”

oh. that actually was a good point.

his thought must show on his face, because tendou grins, and he knows he’s yielded the argument with no further conversation necessary.

“this room is nice,” tendou notes, looking around as eita jerks his duffel from his cubby.

“‘s fine.” eita gives up on subtlety and kicks his sneakers off, then sits down on the ground to wrestle his socks off. he’d come grab them before practice.

he’s stretching several minutes before the all-out race was due to start when tendou asks the question he’d been pondering in the clubroom.

“hey, semisemi, so yama showed me this magazine article the other day, and it said all the pro trackletes never wear socks. so what about you? you switched from the school-issued ones, but the half-size you have on now are still a layer between you and the shoes.”

eita pauses, bent forward. “please never say trackletes again,” he says absently, gears turning in his mind as he looks down at his feet.

while tendou is blubbering about something he could care less about, eita rips one shoe off then pries the sock from his foot and wiggles his free toes. his gaze moves between them and the shoe. “i’ve never thought about that,” he admits, and tendou stops talking.

“the article said for some it was for comfort, that others could feel the ground better underfoot, or their shoe fit tighter without the added layer,” tendou adds slowly, watching as eita unties the laces and slips the shoe back on, barefoot.

he doesn’t quite frown, but his lips twist, once his foot is all the way in. he pulls on the laces a little, shifts his foot around. then he pulls tighter and ties a single knot, and stands.

“it’s weird,” he mumbles. “but not bad. it’s-” he sits back down and slips his other shoe off to repeat the process, and tendou hangs back and watches until he’s back on his feet, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“yeah, okay,” he starts, and then there’s a call for the race participants, and he bends down to pick up his socks and press them into tendou’s hands. “hold onto these for me.”

“what?” tendou cries. “you’re giving me-! semi!”

“hey, this was your idea!” eita calls, already heading off, bouncing every other step.

it’s not an all-out race, because there’s only so much space, so eita is delegated to waiting a while. he walks around in his shoes for a spell, getting used to the feeling.

50 meters was nothing. a perfect test, really.

and like that, the competition had, for eita, turned into an experiment.

-

“that didn’t feel too bad,” eita admits as he stuffs his socks in the pocket of his shorts. tendou cries out when he sees this.

“you could’ve done that from the beginning!”

eita shrugs. “consider it payback for entering me without permission.”

“yeah, whatever.” tendou slouches. “have fun at practice. i’ll be here, cleaning up.”

eita knocks at his shoulder. “thanks for the suggestion.”

“don’t get any blisters.”

“i’ll be careful.”

-

the first open track meet for miyagi prefecture is almost three weeks since eita started running sockless, and ten minutes to go to his event, he’s panicking.

a rewind is necessary, so in simple terms, this is what happened to cause the needless panic.

eita stretches. it’s hot. he pulls on his shoes, doing the laces up tight, but after a lap around the perimeter of the infield, his feet feel clammy, and in particular, his left shoe is loose. not enough to come off, not by far, but enough to where it matters, to where it’s an unnecessary distraction.

eita sits back down and undoes the knot, then pulls excessively tight on the laces to lock his foot into place.

and they snap.

-

“it’s over,” eita groans, lying with his hands over his face and his eyes closed to the harsh sunlight overhead. not that it mattered, because the combined shadows of mii and reo crouching over him blocked it out. they both share a look.

“yeah, that sucks,” reo starts, but he’s cut off abruptly -eita suspects it’s because of mii, mostly because he’s been on the end of her sharp elbows before.

“you still have time.” mii hums, pulling out her phone. “i wonder if concessions sells any as trinkets. would be worth a shot.” her voice trails off as she moves away, raising her phone to her ear. reo crouches down near eita’s head.

“you need new shoes?” he ponders. “maybe they’re too stretched out.”

“i can think about that after the meet is over,” eita mutters, removing his hands from his face. he opens his eyes to half-mast. “where did mii-san go? i don’t want to wallow anymore. she’s good at snapping people out of it.”

“well, sorry for not being good enough emotional support. she’s-”

“hey, semi, get up.” mii kicks at his foot -specifically, at the shoe with the broken laces. “i called satori. he’s at the edge of the field.”

“tendou?” eita mutters, leaning up on his elbows. “what’s he gonna do?”

“didn’t say. but you have five minutes, so i’d just go along with it.”

“maybe he’ll put me out of my misery,” eita sighs, leaning his head back and letting the rest of him go slack.

“four minutes and counting,” reo sings, and that’s enough to drive him to a stand, stumbling in the direction mii points to.

tendou is indeed waiting, just on the other side of the small fence separating the turf from the rest. when eita reaches him he immediately jumps it with zero regards to his inability to be there, then pulls eita down to the ground so they’re both out of the way.

“give me your shoe,” he demands, and eita tugs it off and tosses it over. with deft fingers, tendou removes the bright laces, mapping the path at he tugs them loose. then he pulls an old pair of white ones out and starts lacing them in the same pattern.

eita’s brow creases as he watches. “that was fast. how did you get spares out here?”

“they’re mine,” tendou says. “as in, from my kicks, now,” he elaborates, and eita blanches, looking down to tendou’s left shoe that was indeed laceless.

“what? why would you do that?” he sputters.

“you don’t have any time.” tendou shrugs. “you can give them back after your race, alright? here, i’m done.” he hands the shoe back and eita numbly slips it back on, doing the laces up tight until everything is snug.

“thank you,” eita mumbles, nearly at a loss for words. tendou helps him to his feet and claps him on the shoulder.

“if you don’t win with my laces, i might have to fine you,” he jokes. eita rolls his eyes, the numb spell officially broken as he shakes off tendou’s hand.

maybe he’s still frazzled, or maybe he’s not quite used to the new style just yet, because eita’s time is less-than-impressive, for his standards. he clocks in at just under seven seconds, which is more than enough to place him at first, but there’s a lack of self satisfaction from it.

“time for new shoes,” one of the assistant coaches suggests, when he tries to explain this. “shame about the laces. i don’t think you’ve gotten slower with no socks, so if you like it, keep doing it. you’ve got one month until the qualifier, so there’s time to figure out what you do and don’t like.”

that was pretty solid advice, actually. another of the short-distance coaches makes a note about modifying his regimen if he had to break in new shoes, and it leaves eita strangely touched.

he finds tendou nearly in the same spot he’d left him in, back on the correct side of the fence but leaned so far over it that it almost didn’t matter. he grins as he catches eita’s eye, and eita knows that this time, he’d caught his event as it happened.

this time it’s eita that climbs over to settle on the concrete on the other side of the barrier. tendou slides down until he’s sat beside eita, accepting his laces back when they’re finally pulled free. he’s doing them up in his own shoe again when he finally bothers to speak.

“wanna go shopping for more?”

“you seem like the last person i should go get shoelaces with,” eita say before he can help himself. tendou throws back his head and laughs.

“why not? we could get some cool ones. like in neon colors, or stripes, or words, or-”

eita breathes out in annoyance and tendou breaks off as he catches the tail-end of a mock-deadpan expression that conveys this was the exact reason he was hesitant to take tendou along. then he’s turning the other way to hide a smile, a brief upturn of the corners of his lips, and tendou reaches out to jab him in the side, causing eita to squeak.

“wanna go later?” tendou offers. “not like you’re tired or anything. you only have one race, right?”

eita shakes his head. “yeah, but. tomorrow. tomorrow,” he promises, and tendou settles back.

“no backing out now, semisemi.”

“don’t make me regret this.”

-

there’s no school the next day, so eita and tendou meet up at the shopping district in the early afternoon. the first sporting goods store they wander into is small, and it doesn’t take long for them to be the only ones occupying the space.

eita pulls off four boxes from the shelves from the same brand as his current track shoes and drops them to the floor next to a bench. tendou leans over and pries the tip of one of the lids up, whistling when he sees the style.

unfortunately, the pair he really liked end up being one of two eita near immediately nix as he removes them from the box, not even bothering to try them on as he finds faults with closer examination that he couldn’t live with.

“shut up, tendou!” he snaps as the other’s whining becomes intolerable. “i practically have to live in these shoes! they need to be perfect, or as close as possible.”

eventually it gets to the point where eita wonders why he’d invited tendou in the first place, and banishes the other to another section of the store. that only meant he’d have to deal with having replacement shoelaces forced onto him later, but he was willing if it meant getting through this part quietly.

he puts one shoe from the remaining pairs on each foot and gently kicks the ground with his heel. it felt weird to try on shoes without socks, but if he was going to be wearing them like this anyway, it was the only good way to test them out.

after walking around some eita finds a frown forming on his face. there was only one thing he needed to see about, and he couldn’t-

wait.

“hey, tendou,” he calls, and after a moment, the redhead appears from behind a shelf, expression suggesting he was still sulking. “are we still the only customers?”

“yeah. staff is in the back, too, so-” he breaks off, blinking, and then grins. “what are you planning?”

“i need a straight shot,” he confesses. “twenty meters or so.”

“if you’re at the back wall you could run down the center aisle.” tendou rocks back on his heels, thinking. “you should hit twenty before the door. let me see if anything’s in the way.”

technically there weren’t any other customers to disturb, but eita is silently grateful none of the staff was around to catch them, knowing it would be something they’d disapprove of.

with tendou’s help they clear a path and eita leans one foot against the back wall, eyeing the distance. the store wasn’t big, but he’d brake well before the door.

he crouches down, lets his fingers run over the smooth flooring.

then he rockets off, near full speed, and his teeth are clenched by the time he’s stopped. tendou moves forward, humming in approval.

“that’s not a good sign,” he says, as eita tugs the left shoe off.

“no, it is. it’s this one.” he vaguely points to the shoe on his right foot. “this one’s good.”

“as close to perfect as possible,” tendou quotes, nodding. he trails eita as he wanders back to retrieve the box, and the other shoe to the pair. “except the laces are white, so you need better ones.”

eita rolls his eyes, but he’s still in front of tendou, so it’s purely for his own satisfaction. “they are a little short,” he mentions, and that’s enough to have tendou running off again.

in the end he ends up with the shoes, a lavender pair of laces (“because school colors, semisemi!” tendou had insisted) and a black pair of spares. he’s smiling when they exit the store, and tendou notices, nudging him with his shoulder.

“well that was fun!”

“nope,” eita argues, but there’s no heat to it, and he’s still smiling, so tendou reads it as a joke right away.

-

before the end of the month, eita is coerced into seeing a volleyball game. he has better things to do -like break in the shoes- and doesn’t really know anything about volleyball -and would rather break in the shoes- and wants to focus on other things -like the sho

but tendou tells him he could run to school and back home, and that’s enough to make eita show up at the gymnasium that evening, looking a little lost among the teems of people that had showed up for a mere practice match.

“no one has anything better to do,” tendou tells him, leading him over to a few free spaces in the stands. eita recognizes oohira from 2-B when he turns to address tendou, having heard the remark.

“it’s pre-exam jitters. people will take any chance they get to focus on something that isn’t academic related.” he nods to eita from tendou’s other side. “hey, semi.”

eita nods back, gaze falling to the court. “ushijima-san. is he any good?”

oohira coughs, trying to be polite, but tendou has no problem in throwing his head back and cackling, and eita leans away, frowning as he realizes he’s asked a stupid question.

“waka’s on another level,” tendou tells him, once he’s calmed down. “well, all of our sports teams are top-tier, and volleyball is no exception. just watch. you’ll see.”

eita sees.

shiratorizawa destroys their opponent in the first set 25-14. ushijima ends it with a spike into the court so hard eita feels his teeth chatter. if anyone had gone for that, their arms would’ve come off, for sure.

they’re switching sides for the second set when a shuffling occurs further down the stands, and suddenly oohira is being pushed over, causing tendou to suddenly very much be in eita’s space. “what-”

“sorry i’m late,” the newcomer says, peeking out from behind oohira’s bulk. “i couldn’t find my phone.”

“yama!” tendou exclaims. “it’s about time!”

“you always have the same excuse,” oohira notes.

“because it’s true,” yamagata protests. “it keeps happening to me! i must’ve rolled some bad luck at new years, because this didn’t happen at all last year.”

“he’s very forgetful, semisemi,” tendou turns to tell him, holding one hand over the side of his mouth.

yamagata perks up as he catches the words. “semi’s here?” he leans more around oohira.

“oh, right! you two don’t really know each other, huh?” tendou slings an arm around eita, ignoring his grunt of protest. “yama, this is semi eita! semi, this is yamagata. you’re in the same club. if you bothered to show up more than twice a week you might’ve had-” he breaks off to gasp “-a real conversation before all this!”

“it’s not like i’m skipping,” eita protests, brows furrowed. he waves distractedly to yamagata, who returns it after shaking a look with oohira. “i just get more done by myself.”

“that sounds like a motto you shouldn’t strive for,” tendou points out, and eita finally escapes from his hold as the whistle to start the second set sounds.

yamagata snorts. “well, semi’s leagues better than the rest of us. the coaches are practically fast-tracking him for the all-youth.”

eita blinks, attention ripped from the match, and he has to physically turn his head to look down toward yamagata. “what?”

yamagata glances over, sees eita’s expression, and then turns to him properly. “yeah, the under-eighteen reps? wakatoshi’s one of them too.”

“they’ve said that?” eita asks, a little stunned.

he shrugs. “no, but it’s implied. they’re helping you with individual training. it’s like singling you out of the group. no one on the team can deny that you’d be the one deserving of special attention. i mean, did you see your time at the practice meet? impressive doesn’t cut it.”

“you’re over-exaggerating,” eita mumbles, barely audible over the roar of the crowd as shiratorizawa earns another point.

“they could be prepping you for worlds,” yamagata muses. “never can tell what coach is thinking.”

“wait wait wait.” tendou throws his hands in the air. “you’re telling me semi is potentially qualified to compete internationally?”

yamagata shrugs, and there’s a pointed look in his eye. “you tell me. you saw him run last time.”

“i still think that’s a bit much,” eita protests.

“you wouldn’t want to?” yamagata smiles, and though it’s more along the lines of a leer, it’s sincere, too. “if they give you the chance, you should take it, semi. you’re good enough. everyone on the team knows that.”

those words stay with him through the rest of the match, and on his run home. everyone on the team. it wasn’t said with any sort of malice. and before, when he had talked about eita getting special attention, there wasn’t any jealousy coloring the words. the consensus was that eita was amazing, incredible, even, and everyone on the team respected that.

but he hadn’t thought. well. about that before. he knew he liked running. he knew he was good at it. but he’d never thought about competing outside the nationwide school system. much less globally. he’d never even considered it before.

and now that the seed is planted, he can’t deny that if he was given the chance, he’d probably take it.

that’s why he leaves early, just after the practice match ends in shiratorizawa’s victory. tendou is high off the win and anxious to tell ushijima so, but he stays back to see eita off, recognizing there was a lot on his mind and he wasn’t going to stick around.

“it wasn’t a complete waste of time,” eita ends up saying, and tendou sputters.

“just admit you had fun!”

“yeah, fine.” eita sighs, then smiles. “it was fun. thanks for inviting me. i’ll see you around.”

he leaves fully invested in internal thoughts, so tendou’s sudden blush goes completely unnoticed. well, to him.

“dude,” yamagata says, coming up behind tendou. he pokes tendou’s arm, making sure his friend is still alive. “you got it bad.”

if anything, tendou blushes harder, spinning on his heel to glare down at yamagata. “SHUT-

-

practice today is one of those longer exercises that cover the entire team, and they’re free to leave after they finish. after dismissing everyone to get to it, one of the mid-distance coaches calls out to eita, stopping him before he can begin.

“how are the shoes?” he asks, and eita is a bit taken aback. “are they broken in?”

“for the most part,” he answers after a moment.

“well, take it at your own pace, then. wouldn’t want you getting blisters. it’s been pretty hot lately. usually when you stop running with socks one of the main things you look out for is making sure your feet stay dry. are those breathable enough?”

eita looks down at his shoes, then curves them in, feeling around. “they’re good. i’ve been washing them, too, but not too much. i’m worried they’ll lose shape.”

“start putting in powder and you’ll get away with washing less.” eita’s face screws up and he takes this into account. “not a lot. not enough to lose grip. just a little here and there. i have some in my bag if you ever want to try it out.”

“yeah, thanks.”

he notices, now. has ever since the volleyball match. the coaches do their best to accommodate him when he shows up for practice. they care about everyone, of course. he wouldn’t know for sure unless he hung around more, but he’s almost positive they looked out for all the athletes under their care. made sure they were doing well. checked in when they weren’t.

and yet, it’s different. when they give everyone the same set of exercises but tell eita he can change his to a certain extent, yeah, it’s noticeable. it’s not uncomfortable. he doesn’t mind. just merely an observation, one that makes yamagata’s words take root, that makes the gears in his mind start turning, start hoping.

maybe if i make a good impression at nationals again, it’ll open up more doors.

“no,” he mutters later, as he’s running. “i’m going to win nationals. that’ll open up more doors than i’ll know what to do with.”

“you’ve got some high ambitions.”

eita perks up, turning his head to see kawanishi taichi suddenly keeping stride with him. he slows a little to make it easier for the first-year, but it’s apparently unwelcome, because taichi’s lips twist into a light frown.

“you heard that,” eita states. taichi looks at him funny and eita rolls his eyes. “yeah, guess i was talking aloud. i don’t know. i think nationals last year in fukui has been the only real competition i’ve had since i came here.”

“that sounds depressing,” taichi answers, deadpan. eita snorts before he can catch himself, and slowly, taichi’s lips quirk up in response.

“and you?” eita asks, suddenly curious. “you’re the track star of your grade. what do you think of everything so far?”

taichi takes a minute to answer, but it’s worth it, because eita likes his response. the change to a mid-distance event. the challenge. being encouraged to push himself. having upperclassman around willing to help him where he needs it.

“i like it here,” he finishes.

“yeah,” eita echoes. “me too.”

“do you?” taichi shrugs when eita turns to look at him questioningly. “you just said there’s no real challenge. and you’re never here. i mean, you are, you are right now, but not a lot. not as much as you could be, if being around a support system was something you really cared about.”

“i think,” eita starts, after mulling it over, “that i like to do things my own way, and that takes priority. being here hasn’t changed that. but the experiences i’ve had with the team have changed things. changed me. everyone motivates me to do better, to be better. better at, like, normal things, not just running. i like shiratorizawa because everyone is at the top of their game, and yet everyone stays humble. like you. you’re amazing at your field event, and yet you’re trying a track event to experiment, even if it means getting lower results than you’re used to. you didn’t mention high jump at all when you talked about why you liked this place.

“so that’s why, even here in miyagi, every meet i’m so excited i can’t hardly stand it. i’m pushed to improve myself. even if it’s only me versus the clock, i still have so much fun. it’s supposed to be fun, in the end, right?” he smiles. “i’m glad i came to a school that makes running fun.”

taichi is quiet, but he still keeps pace with eita. it’s not until they’re almost done that he speaks again, expressing his desire for eita to see him compete again.

eita laughs, admiring his determination. “i said i would, right? if-”

“no,” taichi interrupts. “the mid-distance one. i wasn’t sure, before, because i’m still not nearly as good as i want to be. but.” he bites down on his lip. “but, after hearing all that, i realize it doesn’t really matter. i’m not going to be amazing right out of the gate, and i don’t care. i still want you to see me run.”

“then it’s a promise.” taichi looks over and eita smiles. “at the qualifier. work hard until then.”

-

tendou and yamagata exchange looks as eita rehashes his conversation with taichi the day before.

then yamagata’s look turns into a leer that tendou rolls his eyes at.

“semisemi, i’m not sure i’d call that admiration,” tendou says.

“huh?” eita looks up from his lunch, brows creased. “then what is it?”

“it’s-” yamagata is cut off with an elbow to his stomach, wheezing, and tendou takes control of the conversation again.

“don’t worry about it. kawanishi-kun will mention it when he wants to.”

eita hums, but doesn’t probe for further explanation.

-

exams come and go, but even as summer rears its head full-force, eita still finds himself venturing out to school.

it would still be a few days until regular practice resumed, so the only reason he had for being here was one tendou satori.

“waka’s family live on the outskirts of the city,” he explains to eita one afternoon, when they’re sprawled in the shade of one of the big trees in the front courtyard. he spreads his arms in the air. “big place. he’ll come back for volleyball, but being home is more important to his folks, so he makes a point to divide his time.

“yama’s mom lives alone with his younger sisters, so he goes home during breaks to help out. i think the girls would cry if their big brother decided not to come, so it’s always been an easy choice for him.

and my parents aren’t in miyagi, so it’s either i make the long haul home, or choose the easy option and stay here.” his nose wrinkles in quiet distaste. “i’d rather be alone here all summer than go back to that house.”

eita doesn’t know what all to think of that, but he doesn’t ask, either, not wanting to bother tendou. he seemed on the verge of being upset. better to not make it worse.

“well, i’m here.” he lolls his head to the side to stare at tendou. “i’ve got nothing going on. my parents are chill. if you get tired of campus you can stay over.”

tendou turns his head to look back. “and if i don’t?”

“i can keep coming back, just like this.” eita’s fingers twitch, ruffling the grass. he doesn’t move them further. “whenever you want.”

tendou grins. “that’s a dangerous game to play, semisemi.”

“well, i mean, if it’s absurd enough i can always say no.”

“damn. here’s me thinking sneaking you onto campus at four in the morning would be pretty awesome.”

“yeah, you’ll have to try something else. you wake me up in the middle of the night and i’ll have to contemplate killing you.”

“scary.”

“normal.”

“i’m telling you, that’s not a normal response.”

“and what would you know about normal?”

“hey.” tendou kicks out, landing a blow under eita’s knee, and he winces. in the next moment he’s kicking back, hard enough to bruise, and all tendou does is flop from his back onto his side, facing him, and start laughing.

“you said you had something to try,” tendou says later, when they’ve both calmed down.

“yeah. i’m thinking about putting spikes in,” eita admits.

“your shoes?” tendou sits up halfway, leaning on an elbow. “like yama has? the ones for better traction?”

“i got some at the start of first term,” eita mumbles, nodding. “really good ones. i’ve been debating using them. lots of people want me to try, so i think it’d be good to indulge them if they think i’ll like it. but at the same time . . i don’t know. i’m worried, i guess. about the change. being elevated like that, even if it’s less than a centimeter from the track -it makes me nervous. i like to be able to feel myself push off at every step. having spikes in means i’ll be sacrificing some of that.”

“you can always take them out,” tendou notes. “if you don’t like them.” he sits up fully. “let’s go now! no one’s on the track, so it’s perfect. the spikes are in your clubroom, right?” eita nods. “and you have the key, right?” another nod. tendou grins and pulls himself to his feet, then offers a hand to eita to do the same.

eita lets himself be hoisted up, and then tendou is physically dragging him across campus, until they’re in front of a battered door and eita is wrestling the key into the lock in his sudden excitement.

it takes a minute to put all the spikes in. they do it in the clubroom, even with the lack of air conditioning, because it meant being out of the hot sun for a bit. eita leaves barefoot when he’s ready, shoes swinging from one hand, and takes tendou out onto the track, climbing up the fence and then over the hill.

“no one is around to care,” eita says, as he sits down to throw the shoes on. “besides, even if they do, it’ll hurt your reputation more than mine.”

tendou places a hand over his heart. “ouch, semisemi.”

walking is weird, with the spikes, but walking wasn’t really the point. eita locks his knees and bends down to touch his toes, feeling the strain in his legs. “damn,” he mutters, realizing he wasn’t going to get away with not stretching properly. he kicks the shoes off and flops down on the track’s perimeter, bringing the bottom of his feet together and pressing down on his knees with his elbows. “give me a minute,” he throws over his shoulder.

but tendou isn’t there. it takes a second to realize he’s re-settled in front of eita, and even then, he’s still shocked when tendou reaches forward to grab his leg at the bend of his knee, pulling until it straightened out.

“lean back, semisemi,” tendou murmurs, moving his foot into the air. “i used to do this for waka all the time.”

eita doesn’t know what compels him, but he obeys, lying back on the grass. tendou rises to his knees and pushes eita’s leg until it’s in a deep stretch towards his chest. he tugs eita’s toes down and the entire leg twitches with the added effort.

tendou does his other leg after a spell, the exact same and then a couple extra, and then unceremoniously drops both legs to the ground. eita huffs in surprise as they land, and his eyes pop open. it’s not long until he’s glaring at tendou, even with their angle awkward for eye contact.

this time, when eita settles onto the track, he moves into a low start position. “count me off,” he mutters, and tendou moves to rest in the next lane, nodding.

“three.”

just to the forty. he could see the mark.

“two.”

or maybe the full 100, who was he kidding.

“one.”

actually, if this was a true test, shouldn’t he just go as far as possible? get a feel for it?

“go!”

eita is near the 80m mark before he slows, blinking down at the shoes. he jogs back over.

“well?” when he looks up tendou is bent forward, eager. “how was it?”

“dragging.” eita purses his lips. “it felt like i was digging into the track. but instead of being able to push off easier, it felt like i was getting stuck.”

“you probably have to get used to them.”

“i know. i just don’t like adjusting. i just like things to be good, y’know?”

“i hear ya.” tendou leans his chin against an open palm. “try again. this time go all the way down, then run back.”

they pass the better part of the afternoon like that, indulging eita’s whims. not that tendou seemed to mind. he even takes eita home, as they both realize the only pair of shoes he’d worn out now weren’t suitable to walk around the streets in. eita’s mom is certainly surprised, when she opens the door to find her son barefoot. she waves to tendou just before he leaves again.

“that was nice of him,” she mentions, while eita drops his track shoes in the entryway and explains away his earlier plight. when he stands again it’s in house slippers. “you have a good friend, eita.”

friend. eita wonders when exactly that had happened.

#tensemi #haikyuu!! #tendou satori #semi eita #shiratorizawa #hq!! #hq #writing #hhh this is rough i scanned for spelling errors but thats it #i have an hour til i have to leave n still have things to do #this wasnt where i wantd to end bt year 2 is super long? #so this is where its ending #anyway pt 2 on may 20!! hopefully #pls rb if you liked this !

[starlightbuck]

20 for the meet cute prompts 👀👀👀

20. You walk out of a dressing room asking if the outfit suits you, but it’s not your friend waiting outside the room like you thought. 

the way you look tonight || read on AO3

“Why are you walking so fast?”

Chim darts an unimpressed glance over his shoulder. “Because I’m a man on a mission. Now hurry up, Buckley.”

Buck picks up speed, trying to understand how it is that he’s struggling to keep up. His legs are longer than Chim’s, so shouldn’t he be the one setting the pace for the two of them? Not vice versa?

“If I walk quicker, will you finally tell me where we’re going?”

Chim had showed up at Buck’s apartment less than an hour ago and all but dragged Buck out the door without any explanation. Buck had gone willingly, mostly because he was bored and didn’t have any other plans for the day. That hadn’t stopped him from wondering what destination Chim had in mind for them.

He had asked where they were going once they got into the car. His question was met with silence so Buck decided to ask a second time. That time, Chim just raised the volume all the way up on the radio. Buck caught the hint and didn’t ask again.

“If you walk quicker, you’ll find out on your own.” Buck, having not yet caught up to Chim, sticks his tongue out at the back of his head. “Very mature, Buck.”

That stops Buck in his tracks. “How did you see that?”

“I didn’t. I just know how immature you are.”

They continue walking at an almost grueling pace until finally, Chim slows down. It’s such a relief to Buck that he doesn’t even acknowledge their surroundings until Chim is pulling a glass door open and gesturing for Buck to walk in. He does so immediately, drawn in by the cool air conditioning that directly contrasts the overbearing Los Angeles heat.

It’s once Buck steps foot inside the store that he realizes where he is and promptly does an about face.

“Uh uh.” Chim blocks Buck’s escape route, standing in front of the door with his hands on his hips. “You’re not going anywhere until you find yourself a new suit.”

It’s the same thing Maddie has been telling Buck for months now, apparently unhappy with the perfectly good suit he has hanging up in his closet. He doesn’t understand why she’s so adamant about him not wearing it. It cost him a fair amount of money and he knows he looks good in it. Why would he waste his time and money buying a new one?

He’s about to say as much to Chim, but is cut off by a wave of Chim’s hand.

“And don’t tell me you already have a suit. Maddie has deemed it unsuitable and what she says goes.”

“Doing my sister’s dirty work now, huh?”

Chim’s expression doesn’t waver, lips set in a straight line as he takes a couple of steps towards Buck. “Yes I am because she’s carrying our unborn child and I love her.”

Buck can’t say he was expecting that response and it works to disarm him long enough for Chim to grab his forearm and march the two of them to the front of the store.

“Didn’t take you for a romantic, Chim.”

Chim doesn’t rise to the bait like Buck’s hoping he will. Instead, his future brother-in-law sets his sights on one of the store’s employees and lets her know that they’re on a quest for a new suit for Buck. She is very efficient, taking Buck’s measurements and then leading him over to the first rack of suits to get a feel for what styles he prefers. Once that has been accomplished, she guides Buck to a fitting room and lets him know that she’ll be back with a few options for him to try.

“I can’t believe you betrayed me like this,” Buck whines through the curtain as he buttons up a burgundy long-sleeve top and slides on the black suit jacket.

“This isn’t so bad.”

Buck pushes the curtain aside so he can show Chim the fourth suit combination he’s changed into. “That’s easy for you to say,” he grumbles. While Buck’s been forced to change in and out of suits like some kind of Ken doll, Chim has been lounging in a comfortable armchair with a cold water bottle one of the employees brought out for him.

“I don’t think that’s the one either.”

“Why not?”

Chim shrugs, not even bothering to hide his smirk. “Just doesn’t seem right. Let’s see the next one.”

Buck clenches his fist and stomps right back into the fitting room before he can say something that might be used against him in the future. This is exactly why Buck refused to go suit shopping when Maddie brought it up, but at least she would’ve been a better shopping companion. She would’ve actually offered constructive criticism whereas Chim is just turning down everything Buck has tried on. Buck can’t tell if Chim is doing it out of spite or if he genuinely hasn’t liked anything Buck has tried on so far.

The final suit left to try on is olive green and definitely not something Buck would’ve chosen for himself. It’s why he left the option for last, hoping that any of the other suits he tried on would’ve been a winner. He changes slowly, knowing that once this suit is rejected, he’ll have to wait all over again for the same employee as before to pick another round of things for him to try on.

“Alright, here’s the last one,” Buck announces, not bothering to look in the mirror before stepping back out to face Chim. He fiddles with the cuff link, waiting for Chim’s opinion. “What do you think?”

“I think you look very handsome.”

Buck startles at the sound of a voice that definitely doesn’t belong to Chim. His suspicions are confirmed when he looks up and finds a young boy with sandy hair and glasses in the chair that Chim was sitting on only moments earlier. “You’re not Chim.”

“No, I’m Chris,” he answers with a toothy grin. The kid, Chris, is far cuter than he has any right to be. Buck finds himself smiling for the first time since stepping foot inside of the store. “That’s a nice color.”

“You think so?”

Chris nods emphatically, glasses tipping precariously on the tip of his nose when he does. He pushes them back into place and gives Buck a once-over. “It’s different, but I like it. Can you spin?”

“Spin?”

“Yeah, you know. Spin.” Chris twirls his finger around in the air to show Buck what he means. “Abuela says you have to look at an outfit from every angle to make sure it looks good.”

Well if that’s what Abuela says, who is Buck to argue?

“Make sure to do it slowly so I can see you,” Chris instructs and Buck does just that, taking his time as he walks in a small circle. He does it twice, moving his arms around during his second spin to see how the suit feels when movements are involved.

He’s just about to face Chris again to receive the child’s final verdict on the suit when Buck sees his reflection in the mirror.

I don’t hate it is the first thought that comes to mind. This might be the one is his second thought.

“Does it look good from every angle, Chris?”

Buck turns back around and almost chokes on his saliva.

Chris is still sitting in the armchair but he’s not alone anymore. There’s a man, an extremely attractive one, standing beside Chris with a collection of suits slung over his arm and amusement shining in his brown eyes.

They’re really nice eyes.

Attached to an even nicer face.

“It looks very good,” Chris answers solemnly, completely unaware of the tailspin Buck’s mind has just been launched into. What does it say about Buck that this kid is able to concentrate on the task at hand while Buck has been sidetracked by someone’s presence? “Daddy, what do you think?”

And oh. If Buck thought having this man stare at him was a distraction before, it’s nothing in comparison to how he feels when the man brings his free hand up to stroke the scruff that covers his chin. It’s a contemplative look that has Buck’s heart doing a backflip or cannonball or something else ridiculous and unbecoming of someone of his age.

So not only has Buck’s brain short-circuited, but his heart has as well.

Traitors.

“It’s a good look,” the brunette finally decides. The words shouldn’t hold anywhere near as much weight as they do. “Definitely a top contender in my opinion.”

Buck is not blushing, he’s not.

Maybe if he tells himself that enough times, it’ll eradicate the tinge of pink that he knows has stained his cheeks.

“Does that mean you’re gonna buy it?” Chris’s question breaks Buck out of his stupor. “Because I think you should.”

Chris’s dad raises his hand. “I second that statement.”

“And I third that statement,” Chim says, appearing out of nowhere wearing a smile that always spells trouble for Buck. Of course he’d choose now to show up again. “Who are your friends, Buck?”

“I’m Chris!” He holds his hand out for Chim to shake. “And this is my dad.”

“Eddie,” his father supplies, also taking a second to shake Chim’s hand.

“Buck was looking for you before.” Chris explains and Buck is glad that the kid is explaining the situation because Buck doesn’t think he would’ve been able to. “But don’t worry. I helped him and told him how handsome he looks.”

Buck doesn’t have to look at Chim to know that he’s withholding his laughter. “Oh you did, did you?”

Is it wrong of Buck to wish that a black hole will appear and swallow him whole? It’s probably dramatic, but he can live with that. At least then he would be able to retain some of his reputation. He already knows that Chim, and by extension Hen, will never let him live this down.

Buck decides it’s best to cut his losses and heads into the dressing room to get changed. The curtain muffles the voices outside, but he can still hear Chim’s laughter. Buck can’t tell if this is a blessing or a curse.

By the time he exits the dressing room again, the laughter outside has subsided and Eddie is nowhere to be found. Buck swallows back his disappointment, a fact made easier by the bright smile Chris directs at him. “Buck! Are you ready to help daddy find a suit too?”

“I-uh what?”

“Help Eddie find a suit,” Chim repeats, as if the problem Buck had with that statement was that he didn’t hear it. “I told Chris that he could keep you for the afternoon so you could pay him back for helping you.”

Buck’s jaw falls open as he stares at Chim in disbelief. Buck was only gone for a few minutes, how did Chim manage to set this whole thing up that quickly?

“I’ll take these off of your hands,” Chim says, taking the suits from Buck. “You can pay me back for the suit later.”

Chim’s final sentence is accompanied by a wink that lets Buck know he’s going to be expected to pay Chim back for more than just the suit. He’s gone before Buck can so much as put up a fight and then Buck is left alone with Chris.

“I’m ready, Chris!” The low voice comes from the dressing room right beside Buck’s and he does not think about the fact that Eddie was getting changed at the same time he was. “You ready for me?”

“I am! Buck?”

Buck glances around the room, curious as to where that employee who helped him earlier is. She’s the one who supplied Chim with a water bottle earlier and something tells Buck he’s about to be very thirsty. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

#buddie #buddie fic #911 fic #911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #prompt fill #my writing #tylerhunklin

[hollyhomburg]

Reasons Wretched and Divine

(Hybrid! Namjoon x Reader) (Eventual Polyamory) 

Summary: You live on an isolated but sprawling farm with your abusive husband, but things start to change for the better when your husband adopts a retired police dog hybrid named Namjoon. 

Warnings: Domestic abuse, emotional abuse, mentions of police brutality, yearning, implied coercive sex (ie- rape, but nothing is explicitly written), Premeditated murder, Namjoon is mad protective, mentions of scars.  W/c: 4.0k Song rec: Cherry wine by Hozier  A/N: The pre-part of this story is super dark, but keep in mind, it does get a lot better really quick after this chapter, eventually and definitely more soft! don’t know how many parts/how long it will be either so it might end suddenly! Also: this series does not depict the police or the military in a positive light.

- Hybrids have been replacing K-9 units in the police force for the better part of the last 50 years. Generally, they have the same capabilities as old-fashioned police dogs but hybrids can communicate better than animals and are therefore more useful. Namjoon is apart of the general unit, used for patrolling most of the time, and for his specialtys- bomb-sniffing and human remain identification- when it’s needed. 

- Most police hybrids are retired after 10 or 20 years but are given the option to leave every 5. Though few police hybrids ever go back into the general population of hybrids or adopted by familys. Instead, most are sent to rehabilitation facilities or long term care facilities.

- Namjoon has only been working for 7 years when he is forcibly retired, or fired for lack of a better word. The official paperwork states that it was because of a ‘failure to follow orders in a potentially life threating situation’ but that’s just unture. It was over so quick, his commanding officer ordering him to beat up a drug dealer that Namjoon had positively id’d, the man who was already in handcuffs. The dealer had refused to tell them who the higher-ups wherein a drug-dealing ring and had mouthed off.

- But he hadn’t done anything wrong- anything illegal, wasn’t struggling or trying to get free- and Namjoon had refused with clenched fists, confused as to why his commanding officer was ordering him to ‘make him talk’. 

- The next thing Namjoon knew he was the one being put into handcuffs. But what was more moral, Namjoon’s refusal? Or to beat a cuffed man for backtalk? or did the law, what Namjoon’s life was build around, have nothing to do with morality? 

- Namjoon was lucky really, after so many years in the force, to be deemed still adoptable and not a danger to society, Other hybrids weren’t as lucky. He knows his special treatment has something to do with his old partner who had been promoted to police chief a few years ago, who had a soft spot for Namjoon and didn’t want to see Namjoon go to one of the long term care facilities Upstate or even put down like the few hybrids that go feral sometimes are. 

- The man was never really Namjoon’s father, or a parent by any standard of the word. Like other police hybrids, he’d been trained to be in the force from the time he was too young to really remember any parental figures. But there had been some good moments, some pleasant memories made with his old partner. 

- When 16-year-old Namjoon had graduated from the hybrid training academy and had suddenly been thrown into the real world. A box of donuts shared in the front seat of a police car, the older man reaching down to tighten the straps on Namjoon’s too large bulletproof vest. A single pet, rough hands combing through his brown hair when he’d done a good job- like that time he’d ID a bomber from just the residue on his hands.  

- They haven’t seen each other in years at this point, but he does meet with Namjoon right before his auction, ask him how he’s doing- if there’s anything he needs. And a goodbye where he tells Namjoon- that if there’s every anything he needs in his new life he can call. 

- His old partner is the closest thing to a parental figure that Namjoon’s ever had and Maybe at another time, he would feel bad or sorry for himself for being denied something that most others have. But Namjoon knew he was lucky to have this chance, even if he felt more like a piece of cattle than a person as he was auctioned off with old police cars and ambulances at one of the quarterly auctions the city holds for all municipal property that is no longer up to government standards.    

- And apparently, having a strong sense of justice regardless of orders and thinking for himself makes Namjoon below those standards too. 

- Namjoon is a Doberman pinscher mix hybrid, is all nasty and scarred across his face and a particularly nasty one on his lower lip from a car bomb explosion a few years ago. He’s surprised he’s bid on at all with how shabby and aggressive he looks, but he goes to the man in the back of the room who hides his face with a baseball cap and pays a full 7,000 dollars for Namjoon and he counts himself lucky. 

- On the drive to his new home, the man outlines why he’s purchased Namjoon. The man is a rich ex-colonel with a new wife, even newer property that needs attending too, the farm too large for him to look after on his own. He’s quick to assert that Namjoon will not be a house pet- which is fine. 

- And after so many years being on the front lines of the worst of the police force, He’s really touchy. He will growl if anyone he doesn’t trust comes too near.  Namjoon knows he wouldn’t be a good one anyway but at least he won’t be so idle in his new life.

- You live in a nice and orderly farmhouse, the surrounding land barren mostly, accepts for the grass the endless stretches of pristine lawn. It’s a 2 hour drive  outside of the city that Namjoon grew up in, and an hour away from the coast. 

- The house is ancient, almost too large to be called a farmhouse with a wrap-around porch and more than a few creaky floorboards but the updated and impeccably maintained insides fortel money like Namjoon’s only seen during drug busts. The land sprawling but somehow fallow seeming with refurbished barns turned garages and workshops rimming the edge of the property. The cedar shingles of the barns ocher fading grey and sticking out against the green.

- The property is Rimmed by a few dozen acres of untamed and uncleared forest. The tall oak tree and The small garden next to your house the only thing at all colorful. But the garden almost seems stifled Not a leaf out of place, or a plant that seems anything less than perfect and contained separate from the others. 

- The first thing that stings his nose when he walks in and puts his bag down in the entryway is the stinging stench of bleach and something else that he can’t identify. It was like that with most hybrids, after a little while when they got accustomed to the scent of their owners- they would be able to sense their emotions if they were sick. In a few weeks, he’ll probably be able to identify the peculiar scent better, but for now, it’s source remains a misery to him.  

- The house seems idyllic to Namjoon, almost too perfect and quiet, pretty area rugs and dark hardwood floors, white walls with photos in black picture frames. His owner gives him a second to set his stuff down before he joins the two of you for dinner. His bedroom is down the hall from the master bedroom on the second floor and it might not be anything special, but the light beige walls are calming. The window has a nice view of of the same hill they drove up. 

-  His new room is so different from his small bunk at the police station where he used to live, not an inch of grey concrete insight. The rot iron bed frame and linen curtains achingly homey. Namjoon is so happy he scents to linen curtains before he goes downstairs. He dosesn’t even really know why he does it, just that his instincts are making him want the whole room to smell like him.

• On the ground floor, there is not a hair or corner out of place in the kitchen. It’s nothing that you wouldn’t expect from a military man, and neither are you, beautiful and soft and quiet more demure than anything else.  You’ve made a full course meal to welcome Namjoon to your home, the evidence of your hard work in the few baby hairs that have come untucked from your smooth bun, your hair tightly pinned behind your head. 

- You turn from where you work over a casserole to the sound of Namjoon’s footsteps, your husband nursing a beer in the corner observing you and Namjoon with a keen eye. “I hope you’ll be comfortable here,” you say to Namjoon, not offering your hand in introduction yet or meeting his eyes. Your hands covered in flower that you dust against your plane canvas apron with yellow flowers along the hem.  

- You match the house- you’re perfectly delicate and domestic too, your leggings and tunic top pristine and white. Your makeup minimal but done well. He barely remembers his politeness, “Thank you for welcoming me into your home Miss Y/n.” your soft and shy nod in response, almost makes his tail wag. and he begins to hope that maybe, this new life won’t be so bad. At least compared to the last when his life was in danger nearly every day.

- “Would you mind taking these dishes to the dining room?” Namjoon nods, takes the salad, while he’s gone he misses that you turn to look to your husband for approval, and Namjoon misses his nod and the tick of his hands against the beer glass that makes you flinch. 

- Maybe if Namjoon had been on the track for the detective branch he would have realized what was wrong, but at first, Namjoon doesn’t notice anything strange about his new owners. Maybe it was a little weird how your husband seemed to order him around, but to be fair Namjoon had known a bunch of ex-military men- and he wasn’t expecting anything less than a stalwart will. 

- Namjoon is used to taking orders- he’s surprised at how little his life really changes when it comes to what he used to deal with at the police station and here. 

- During the first few days, your husband has him working to help upkeep the farm, one of the barns rust red and lifting heavy things, and in general, helping with the many chores that need to be done around the farm. It’s more of a passion project really since your husband is retired from the military and only occasionally goes into town to help with the VA.

-  Namjoon’s thankful that he hadn’t really been adopted to be a house pet since affections been foreign to him for so long. Namjoon’s not sure he’d know how to be a regular hybrid if he tried. 

- And of course, Namjoon is a little on edge constantly. The first time you try to reach out and pet him is a few days after he gets there, your husband isn’t home and you’d asked for Namjoon’s help getting the heavy crockpot down from the upper shelf. He senses the heat from your hand near his arm and he snaps, growling low and menacing. 

- You back away slowly, keeping your hands where he can see them, apologizing and looking like you’re near tears. dropping your shoulders and holding your hands out in front of your face like you think Namjoon is going to hit you. 

- But you also look so so sad, Namjoon realizes with a shock, and you smell terrified. You don’t try again to befriend him again, to give him any sort of affection, Keeping your distance after the growl. Something aching in your expression that puzzles him, something desolate, lonely and wanting whenever you look at him. 

- But what could a woman like you, who didn’t work and lived in what was basically a small mansion have to be sad about? What could someone who had everything want?  

- As Namjoon comes to know, you have quite a bit to be sad about.

- What’s more is that later, Namjoon is worried- worried you’re going to tell your husband what Namjoon did- growling at his owner’s wife would surely warrant being sent to the pound or being abandoned. But you say nothing, eating in silence only pausing with your meal to ask your husband what kind of work needs to be done at the VA this week. 

- “Trying to get me out of the house y/n?” he asks, gaze darkening. the smile you send his way is strained, bottom lip trembling, making Namjoon’s ears flick at how dissonant it all feels. “not at all dear, just wanted to know if I should make lunch for you tomorrow or if you’ll be getting something from the diner in town” 

- You’d think after so many years dealing with criminals he would have noticed sooner. He’s ashamed of it, but at first, he doesn’t catch how your husband grips your wrist hard enough to bruise when the peas have gotten cold while you tended to the salmon one night at dinner. He’s too busy scarfing down the rich food, so much tastier than the simple meals he’d grown up accustomed too. 

- He draws his first conclusions when he sees the bruises. Your husband chiding when Namjoon asks about some nasty ones on your palms (your husband had pushed you when you where in the driveway earlier after you’d almost opened the door into one of his other expensive cars) “She’s always just so clumsy.” your husband justifies. 

- When Namjoon makes a comment on a particularly bad one your arm, (you’d moved away from him in your bedroom and your husband had dragged you close) And then another appears in the shape of fingerprints on both of your wrists (another bedroom casualty). And then on a day when your husband leaves early for the VA and Namjoon wakes up and comes to see why you haven’t come downstairs yet he sees your black eye before you can dab makeup around it or turn your face down to hide it. 

- You and Namjoon aren’t friends, you don’t even talk to each other much really after the growl beyond you asking him occasionally to lift something you can’t or reach something from a tall shelf- but he can’t ignore what he sees, can’t deny that he knows and wants to help. When he sees your black eye, he growls and asks you his first real question, “that’s from him, isn’t it?” 

-  Namjoon had been trained for years in the law, and he knows domestic abuse when he sees it. Knows what comes from it from years of studying law books. how the victims often feel trapped, often grow depended and can’t escape. The acrid smell he noticed when he came to say making sense- it’s just fear. painting the walls and the floorboards of your house, every inch of it.  

- When you see him staring in the mirror, you nodd and continue to blend the makeup around your eye, without saying a word to Namjoon. 

- The day that Namjoon hears you scream, his heart drops into his stomach and he runs to you.  He finds your husband holding you up by your hair screaming about how he’d found an app downloaded on your phone that shouldn’t have been. 

- “You fucking unfaithful slut! What are you trying going to do find another man to take in your worthless ass on Instagram? I put up with so much from you! Your fucking sloppiness- mucking up my house with all your shit- I don’t even know why I try to help you anymore when it’s obvious don’t fucking know how to be fucking faithfull- you never had someone to teach you how to love and now i’m the one who has to teach you this bullshit” your husband sees namjoon at the door, “Why don’t you ask him Y/n. Namjoon tell me, can you teach an old bitch new tricks?” 

- Namjoon is quick to put himself in between the two of you, catching your husband’s wrist before he hits you again (one of your cheeks is already red) but it’s the wrong move. Namjoon is taller than your husband, but he does probably have a little more muscle on him than Namjoon does. 

- Your husband is even nastier and brutal than he usually is. And Namjoon knows he can’t hit back. When Namjoon falls to his floor, keeping his body in between yours and your husbands shielding you his head is spinning and his lip is aching and split, your husband growls back that if he does fight back again- Namjoon will have earned himself a one-way ticket to hell. 

- After all who wouldn’t believe that a retired police hybrid would break one day and snap back to his most basic instincts? The way your husband spun the story, Namjoon believes that he really would. 

- Late at night sometimes he takes out one of his guns and polishes it in front of Namjoon looking at him with a glint of mad anger in his eyes. Namjoon knows if he tries to stop him, and tries to tell someone about what your husband does, he will get hurt and you will too. 

- And then he’d be leaving you to the mercy of your husband, and that just won’t do. You where just someone who needed help like the countless people he’s saved over the years, and you’d be alone to be in pain just like you had in the beginning. 

- Such shame fills him for not noticing sooner, even as you dab at some blood on Namjoon’s cheek with a wet cloth after the first time he intervenes. until that point, you haven’t said much to him or tried to touch him beyond that first day when he growled at you.  He catches your wrist gently another bruise already forming there, and you hiss lowly at him and rip it from his grasp. 

- Casting an anxious look in the direction of where your husband disappeared, you can still hear the thrum of the shower though and know your words will be disguised by the hum of the water. “You can’t Namjoon- you can’t touch me, that will only make him angrier- please, please don’t get yourself hurt for me.”

- But Namjoon is terrible at following orders. He feels rage well up inside of him because you’re just trying to help him, even though you’re in need of help yourself. You’re an innocent like the ones he used to protect and there is no one here to do that for you. 

-  Your husband is a criminal and Namjoon has always had a strong sense of justice. So Namjoon will do his best to protect you- and divert your husband’s attention whenever possible, and help you as he can. 

- So Namjoon can do nothing but watch, try to mitigate and try to help. there are days when Namjoon says that he was the one who knocked a picture frame off the wall when Namjoon makes a mistake to distract from one that you make, creating distractions. 

- After that, things change, Namjoon is just another person that your husband can exert his need for control over. Smacks Namjoons hand with the end of a dowl when he drops a box of nails, purposefully slamming the door shut on Namjoon’s tail. Namjoon can take it, he’s no stranger to pain or brutal overworking. But still- Namjoon tries to keep him out of the house as much as possible, keeps him away from you when he can. 

- It’s hard, there are many more nights where he fails rather than succeeds. But on the nights where he manages to keep you safe until your husband falls asleep, make a sour kind of accomplishment take root in his chest. He stares up at the ceiling in his room, lying on top of the covers in his bed, turning over the day’s events,  when he hears a noise, your quiet footsteps in the hallway. 

- Namjoon moves slowly so as to not cause a creek, but he opens the door to find you there waiting outside, in the gray light of the moon streaming through the window at the end of the hallway. 

- You are drowned in shades of black and white, like some old photograph as you look up at Namjoon, reaching forward again to touch him. It’s been so long since you’ve felt any tender touch unmarred by pain or fear. The words of your husband weigh on your heart like a shackle. “You don’t know how to love.” when you look at Namjoon you think that maybe- maybe if things where different- you could learn. You’ve never known much about hybrids other than they where made to be loved. 

- As you reach your hand forward slowly Namjoon doesn’t growl like the first time. The first time your hand touches his cheek, it feels like something good falls into place. He lets your hand rest there and leans into the touch, just as hungry for something good and soft as you are. It’s the first time he’s been touched with so much softness, and already it feels so good that it makes emotions he’s never had well up in his throat and choke off any noise he might make. 

- He makes the choice to pull you closer to him. You are so so small that he can barely lean his elbows on your shoulders even as you wrap your arms around his waist and bury your head in his chest. Namjoon’s tail starts to wag and hits up against the doorframe, you both freeze, and he catches it before it makes any more noise. Both of you listen with bated breath. Down the hall, your husband gives a particularly loud snore but stays asleep. 

- It’s only that, only a hug before You part from him holding his gaze before you slink back to your room careful to avoid the floorboards that creak. Knowing he’ll wake up if your warmth in his bed is gone for long or if there are any particularly harsh noises. 

- It starts to become an everyday sort of thing, every night after your husband has gone to bed you meet Namjoon in the hallway. Sometimes you stay longer in his arms, sometimes you need too, and sometimes you shake and quiver like a leaf in a storm and Namjoon can do nothing but hold you and try to keep you steady. 

- Sometimes it’s worse, sometimes you come into the hallway moving slower and shadowed, your hips stiff and his smell all over you. And Namjoon will nuzzle into the hickeys on your neck left by him and growl lowly at them. And you’ll be still in his arms quieting him by running your fingers over the back of his neck and through his hair if you’re brave enough. 

- Namjoon wonders how something so sweet got trapped in a place so bad, how you ended up with a man like him. On one of the rare days your husband has work down in the VA, he asks you. You’ve started to talk more, but only when your husband is out of the house. Sometimes you stand close by the counter and enjoy a simple thing like a cup of coffee togeater. 

- You have rare good days, where there isn’t much to do besides sit on the couch or play a game of cards in the kitchen. Or other times, more tender things, though It feels so vulnerable and intimate to hug you in your kitchen, in broad daylight no less and not be enswathed in the safe cocoon of darkness. Namjoon is careful to watch the window over your shoulder waiting for the moment when your husband comes home and you have to separate. 

- But he hugs you in your kitchen, light streaming through. Running his hands over your shoulders and feeling them deflate more every moment. He asks you why you loved him at one point enough to marry him. “He wasn’t bad at first- the opposite, he made me feel special and like I belonged somewhere, but then after we got married he started to change and-“ your voice breaks off. Namjoon brushes away your tears with his thumbs. 

- The day your husband adds to the scars on Namjoon’s face is the first day your lips touch his skin. 

- You have some Vaseline and some skin-safe glue to patch up the gash in his cheekbone just under his lower eye (the mark of a thrown glass after Namjoon had knocked over a lamp in the living room) it could probably use stitches, but it’s the best that he can do. You have a cut on your finger too from picking up that glass, and Namjoon kisses it first, lips pressed to them gently before you wrap them with bandaids. 

- Tomorrow, you’ll patch it up a little better, but for now, you meet in the hallway and your lips brush over the base of it, not close enough to irritate it. and namjoon makes a noise in the back of his throat in suprise. Even though the action is tender. He can see your hurt by him, you shake with silent sobs by this, by everything that’s happened, and it doesn’t feel like he can bear it anymore. 

- He’d never thought of himself as a killer, but now he thinks he understands why someone would. To keep you safe, Namjoon would kill your husband. Namjoon will he realizes- to free you of this pain. Namjoon has never hated another living thing more than he hates your husband. And namjoon has come to the conclusion that the world would be a better place if he where dead- call it a crisis of faith in the law but sometimes- the law just can’t get things done. so namjoon will take it into his own hands. 

- That night, Namjoon dreams that you falling asleep on his chest, small and happy, smiling in your sleep, he dreams of waking up with you in his arms just once. And in that dream world Namjoon gets to run his fingers through your hair and watch over you to make sure you’re safe. And when he wakes, he finds you with a fresh black eye and knows that one day, one day soon he’s going to get you out of here, even if it means Namjoon doesn’t.  

• Namjoon keeps his anger and his evil intentions a secret; even from himself at times. He thinks about the small river by your house, drowning your husband and holding him under the water. Or the lift in the fancy barn that was used for your husband’s expensive car collection, the button that releases the hydraulics so close and itching to be pressed anytime he goes under them. 

- Namjoon wonders how he’s going to do it, with Namjoon’s hands around his throat or a well-placed shovel to the back of his head or even, or if he can find the passcode- one of the guns in the gun safe. Quick and easy, buried in the backyard or dissolved in acid.

-  Namjoon has been in on enough homicide cases, he knows how hard it is to get away with murder, but he loves you enough to try- even if he knows it’s futile. It will take a fair bit of planning, and Namjoon starts the painstaking process.

- But then one morning, when your husband leaves early without any explanation, Namjoon walks into your bathroom to find you hurling your guts out into the toilet, and a pregnancy test sitting on the counter and feels horror spark in his stomach. 

- You’re pregnant, and that changes everything. 

PART 2

#bts #bts hybrid au #bts poly au #bts hybrid #hybrid! namjoon #namjoon x reader #hybrid! namjoon x reader #puppy! namjoon #dog! namjoon #police hybrid au #Kim namjoon x reader #bts fluff #bangtan #bangtan sonyeodan #bangtan boys #bts fanfic #bts sonyeondan #bts fanfiction #bts hybrid fic #bts soft #bts hurt/comfort #bts dark theme #mafia au #eventually #who knows #bts angst #kim namjoon soft #min yoongi #park jimin

[atxlxs]

Beyond The Veil: Chapter 3

The staff meeting during the following Friday of the entrance exams has always been one of Nedzu’s favorite days. Several variables are set loose all at once and he gets to watch the chaos happen.This year, in particular, has an interesting candidate.

Viridis Muska.

Quite obviously, they aren’t Japanese and their records state that she moved here with her legal guardian 7 years ago after an accident unfortunately killed her parents. Her identity is as clean as his favorite tea cups and her homeschooling was explained by needing to learn the language. Their quirk registry matched up with most of their actions as well.

Most.

She had first garnered attention by finishing a whole hour early. Even some intelligence quirks don’t finish that fast. Especially since it was a test Nedzu personally made. Then there were her responses in the history section. It almost appeared as if she forced herself to use third person writing. The descriptions were remarkably detailed and certain events held smaller but no less important information that doesn’t exist in any textbook.

He would know.

Then came the practical. Her use of her quirk to enhance certain aspects of their physical abilities while also using it sparingly to prevent quirk exhaustion was intriguing and well throughout. Releasing the 0-point as time was ticking down Nedzu had expected everything to go as calculated.

Unknown information, however, always changes that.

The knowledge of where the other examinees were, the quick reaction time, the healed ankle. None of that was listed in her abilities and the government always keeps track of healers. In fact, looking over her quirk registry, it's surprisingly vague. As if the person who wrote it made sure that unless someone had personally seen the quirk in use, the description sounded fine. Yet after seeing the quirk in use, the description became lacking.

It was past intriguing, it was fascinating.

Watching the staff members file into the room, Nedzu couldn’t help the feral smile on his face. He had a sneaking suspicion as to why this particular examinee was so unknown. Afterall, no matter how hard Nedzu tried, the “veil” never lifted for him. He wasn’t one of them and he didn’t personally know anyone who was. If Viridis was what he thought they were, then Nedzu might finally get answers.

“Now let's get to it!” Nedzu chirped, reveling in the shudders the teachers tried to hide at his excited tone. The only one to succeed was Aizawa, but he also was personally taught by Nedu during his third year since Nedzu wanted to cultivate his skills. Now the man was the best underground pro there was.

They shuffled through applications and sorted them based on accepted, pending, and rejected. Midnight was in charge of business and design, Power loader for support with help from Ectoplasm, Cementoss and Present Mic for general, and Eraserhead along with Vlad King for heroics.

30 minutes in, Aizawa spoke up.

“Nedzu, I’m assuming examinee #2438 is who you were watching yesterday? Viridis Muska?”

Nedzu grinned at him and nodded. “Yes, as you might know considering your underground status, I have a sneaking suspicion that she is from ‘beyond the veil’.”

Aizawa actually dropped the paper he was holding. His eyes grew slightly larger as he dropped his head into his capture weapon to hide the bottom half of his face. Yamada, who despite what people thought, was also involved with the underground. Thus, the gasp was expected. Everyone else, however, looked confused.

From the back, where he was looking over some teaching material, Yagi Toshinori aka: All Might raised his hand like a student. Nedzu almost chuckled at the thought.

“Yes All Might?”

“What is this ‘beyond the veil’?”

Nedzu knew he would ask that but acted as if he didn’t and thought about it for a moment. In reality he was already going to tell his staff this year about the existence of the veil despite knowing nothing about what actually lies beyond because the underworld has been spiking in activity lately and there was a chance that big moves could be made soon.

Turning to face the room as a whole Nedzu dropped his typical smile and allowed his serious to show through his eyes before he spoke.

“This info may not leave this room. It is imperative that only a select few even know the name. The term ‘beyond the veil’ is the official title for the shadows that have hidden out of society and humanities view for thousands of years,” Nedzu watched as his faculty began paying rapt attention to his words. It wasn’t often that he got serious afterall.

“It pains me to say it but even I don’t exactly know what lies beyond this veil, however I do know that whatever is there is something beyond human.”

“Are you saying that humans aren’t the only creatures on the planet?” Vlad asked, confusion and disbelief lacing his words.

“Absolutely. In fact, those that know of the existence of the veil theorize that the only reason Humans have the abilities called quirks was because someone mingled with what was beyond. Viridis Muska is clean, clean in a way that only someone like me would even notice the slight discrepancies. Yet these discrepancies were only noticed because of my Knowledge of the veil. If i didn’t know, I wouldn’t have noticed how strange her abilities really are. Or questioned why her words in the history section seemed over-detailed.”

The room was silent for a few moments, then Aizawa moved and placed the application on the class 1-A acceptance pile.

With a grin, Nedzu nodded.

“I’ll be the projection to Viridis. I wish to invite her for a cup of tea.”

Eras was casually leaning against the tallest window in the house, a leg dangling over the side of the window sill as the other was pulled up next to them. A book rested in their hand against their raised leg, a cup of tea held in the other. Since the window she was sitting next to had a very clear view of the front of the house, Eras was able to see out of the corner of her eye as Muska fell face first into the moss ground while holding up an envelope.

Eras spit out her tea as she laughed and Muska got back up and ran into the house.

“SUGAR MOMMY THE MAIL CALL!” Muska screamed as she burst into the house. In response, Eras simply held out the hand with the book and let it drop to the ground, smacking Muska in the head from above.

“WhaT ThE FuCk?” Muska screeched as she snapped her head up to glare at Eras. A smug grin stretched over her features and she swung a leg over the pole off to the side of the door and slid to the ground.

“The acceptance letter came in then?” Eras asked, heading over to the kitchen to drop her mug in the sink.

“We literally don’t know whether or not I got in?” Muska said as she followed. Tibbles jumped from the catwalk as Muska passed the door frame and landed on her shoulders, a loud meow interrupting Eras’s rebuttal.

“Oh fuck off.” came Muska’s reply to whatever tibbles said. She waved off the next meow and walked over to the kitchen table. The black furball jumped off to sit next to Muska while on the table.

Once Eras sat on the opposing side, Muska tore into the envelope. Expecting a letter. Not a black disc. She and Muska stared in bewilderment before the disc lit up and projected a person up into the room. Nevermind.

“Its a fUCKIN RAT MAN?”

It's not a person, it's a Nedzu.

Tibbles, who had taken offence to the projected rat, dog, thing, swatted the projector and almost sent it flying if it weren’t for Eras’s inhuman reflexes. Catching the disc and reorienting it back where it was placed in the middle, The projector continued with little care of the scare he just gave the three.

Vaguely, Eras registered that Muska had passed and with flying colors, coming in second on the exam. Internally, though, she was searching for why Nedzu was sending out a projection. She had left a slight surprise in Muska’s quirk registry in order to figure out if the rat knew about the veil and what's beyond. Though she wasn’t expecting it to be found out so soon. What had Muska done to contradict the registry?

It clicked just as Nedzu cleared his throat once more.

“Also, seeing as you have achieved the highest score in the last 20 years of UA’s history on the written exam, I wish to extend a meeting to you to talk over tea. I am quite fascinated by your answers. Especially in the history section. Welcome Viridis! This is your academia!”

The light in the room came back to normal levels as the projection ended and Eras slammed her head onto the table, startling Muska out of her apparent shock.

“Uh, What?” The witch asked, completely unaware of what she did.

“What did you do during the practical?” Eras asked, muffled by the table top.

With a confused look, Muska went on to talk about their experience. From scouting to planning and scrapping some bots. Then as she got closer to the end, Eras was able to confirm her suspicions.

“This one girl had fracture so I healed that real quick and then focused on greenie-”

Well shit, Eras hadn’t expected Muska to instantly show off her healing capabilities. Now they had a meeting with the rat-man. Eras groaned and cut off Muska mid rant about red flags and someone named Midoriya.

“What?” Muska asked, slightly annoyed at being interrupted.

“I made your quirk registry purposefully vague to accommodate for your other abilities and people wouldn’t know what to look for if they had never heard of the veil before. Nedzu probably saw you use Healing abilities, which I never mentioned to make sure the government didn’t flag you as a healer, and compared that to your probably almost first person account of history and connected the dots. Now you have a meeting with a rat man to talk about you possibly being a part of the veil.”

It was silent for a bit before a loud meow and purr followed and Muska slammed her head on the table.

“We know Tibbles, you don’t have to rub it in my face like that.”

@baguettehead

#bnha mha #bnha #mha oc #mha fanfiction

[writingpuddle]

“Don’t you ever get lonely?” Nicky asked, digging in his pack for a chocolate bar. To their left, the cliff dropped away precipitously, sheer granite cliffs like sentinels at the end of the world.

Neil stared at Nicky. “No,” he said.

“What, never?”

Neil looked out across the sweeping vista of mountains before them. A speck that could have been a hawk or a raven or a sparrow spun against the sky, too small and distant to judge. He’d stood in the middle of busy cities; he’d gone to school with hundreds; he’d even tried out for a track and field team once. He’d been surrounded by people, and he had been so ferociously lonely it had been like a knife in his chest.

“No,” he said, because he didn’t know how to explain—didn’t even want to, really. He’d felt more alone back in the so-called real world than he’d ever felt in the wilderness, miles from any other person. When there was no one around, there was no one to miss.

~~~The Long-Distance Hiker AU (A Bullet Point Fic)~~~

So after Neil’s mom died he kinda of ghosted around for a while and eventually ended up in a small hiking town in California

He met a bunch of thru hikers and figured, hey, my dad probably won’t find me if I’ve fucked off into the wilderness

So he starts hiking

And pretty soon he realizes it’s the best thing he could imagine

He spends all summer in the mountains and when winter rolls around he finds a temporary job in a skiing town working in a second hand gear shop

He’s an ultralighter in the most accidental sense possible

His gear is weird and cobbled together and his shoes are held together with dental floss

He sleeps under a tarp with a down blanket and a thin foam mat and he’ll eat the same shit day in day out without even registering it while he covers frankly obscene distances every single day

It basically gives Kevin an ulcer

Kevin’s an ultralighter, but in the stuck up, rich bitch way; his gear is probably worth thousands of dollars and he’ll lecture anyone who listens about ripstop nylon and is super snobby and elitist about who is a so-called “real” thru hiker (hint: anyone who doesn’t do it his way isn’t a real thru hiker)

(don’t worry he’ll get smacked around a little by people like Dan and stop being such a little bitch about it but he grew up rich so even though it might’ve been shit living with Riko he really doesn’t always take into consideration the context of how much fucking money gear costs when he’s preaching about ultralighting)

(yes I’m taking out my dislike for pretentious rich ultralighters on him, okay, but the difference is he’ll have character growth versus the people I met are probably still being preachy and self-important to this day)

Andrew’s like the exact opposite

His pack weighs like seventy pounds and he’ll pull a six-inch knife (a gross misuse of smart gear weight management) at anyone who comments

He has a completely contained single person tent that’s big enough to sit up in and a four-inch inflatable mattress

His sleeping bag is rated to like -20 even when he’s hiking in the summer

Nicky swears he once saw him pull a full-sized chocolate cake out of his backpack three days down the trail and everyone says that’s stupid and made up but secretly think its totally true

Andrew likes to hike alone but somehow he’s never more than a day away from Aaron and Nicky and when he keeps showing up near them it gets harder and harder to pretend like he doesn’t actually care about them

Nobody says anything, obviously, but Nicky gets a little teary when he starts to notice the pattern

It was Nicky’s idea; in this universe Erik got him into hiking when he was in Germany so he got the cousins into it as a bonding exercise and then it turned out it was the best family activity they had ever found

This is several years after they graduated and they’ve scrounged together enough time and money to hike the Pacific Crest Trail

Now the upperclassmen:

So Stephanie Walker is a trail angel: one of those people who lives near a long trail and provides snacks and rides and somewhere to stay and basically helps out anyone who comes by with whatever’s going on; she’s pulled a lot of people out of frankly dangerous situations and she’s not afraid of anything the trail has to offer

So Renee finds herself and her faith while living this life of meeting new hikers every day and it’s almost inevitable that she starts to hike and find solace in the wilderness

Allison is one of those Wild types: she’s done some hiking (much to her parents’ chagrin) but she’s never done a thru trail or even much overnighting before, but she’s ready to throw herself into it and doesn’t care how dirty she gets

She totally carries a tiny spa package though

The other women are very skeptical because they take pride in being free from societies expectations and make up and shaving but they come around after Allison pulls it out one time when they’re seven days into a ten day section and gives them face masks and they all have a little pedicure pampering session (so, so needed when your feet are being beaten and bruised by hard terrain all day)

She has a lot of new, expensive gear and is super touchy about people trying to help her (because a beautiful woman absolutely gets people trying to “help” all the time and it’s infuriating and condescending) but she learns to accept help from her closest friends

She was showing off near the beginning of the trail drinking with a bunch of guys and probably got too sloshed trying to act tough (alcohol hits you waaaay harder at high elevations dude, if you’re not expecting it you can get Fucked Up really fast)

It’s Seth who realizes things are getting out of control and pulls her out before the guys can do anything shitty which is how their friendship and eventually their relationship gets started

They piss everyone off with their constant breaking up and getting back together on the trail, sometimes hiking together for days and then splitting up and going to hike with other people but they find a lot of healing out there in the woods

Seth’s mom is totally dismissive and condescending of his hiking, she thinks it’s a stupid waste of time, but she thinks everything he does is a stupid waste of time so at least when he’s out there without cell service he has an excuse to not respond to her

Now Dan

Dan’s trailer trash, right

She’s got no fucking cash but she has this dream in her head to hike the PCT and she’s going to fucking well do it

Her gear is probably most similar to Neil’s except where his is a mess of weird priorities and held together by spit and twine

Hers is meticulously planned

It’s cheap, some of it’s over forty years old, but it’s hers

It’s probably the only stuff in the world that’s actually hers

She accumulated it over about four years, hitting all the second-hand gear events, saving up every penny, packing and repacking and writing everything out in great detail until David Wymack got wind of her plans at a gear event

He’s one of those guys who hiked the PCT thirty years ago back before anyone knew what it was except instead of feeling superior about that it means he knows exactly how much impact experiencing the wilderness can have for disenfranchised people

He approaches Dan and offers to sponsor her hike

She’s resistant at first; she planned this hike, she got all the stuff together, she was going to do it without anyone’s help

But he comes back and says he just wants her to write about her experiences and publish it on his website

He’ll pay her for the work, of course

And she wavers and finally caves because this will move her plans up by about two years if she can make money while she’s hiking instead of having to hoard up enough cash to take six whole months off

Her blog posts are a huge hit

She doesn’t preach about how the mountains saved her, or get too metaphorical about hiking or anything like that

She just talks about the real, raw experience of hiking

The friendships, the trials, the triumphs

The infuriating people whose mental image of the hiking community doesn’t include poor black girls who grew up in a trailer park, who say she’s an inspiration like they actually mean something else

She talks about the days that she flies up the mountains and the days that she can barely drag herself out of her tent and the day she realizes that Allison and Renee, these women she thought could not be more different from her, are the best friends she’s ever had in the world

And she’s takes fucking amazing pictures

She’s also very determined not to have a trail romance

That’s stupid and cliché

Look that guy Matt might be hot but she’s not interested

He’s clearly working through some stuff and she’s not here to be some guys savior or whatever

So Matt then

His mom helped him get sober a couple years ago and he’s been struggling with it ever since

She got him into hiking as an outlet and a healthy hobby and he took to it like a fish to water

He’s got legs for days and he doesn’t mind carrying a heavy pack, he can hike for hours without stopping

(The fact that he’s faster than her pisses Dan off a bit, but sometimes you gotta accept that you’ve got short legs and just hike your own hike, there aren’t any prizes for speed)

He relapsed again a couple months before his hike started and he and Randy weren’t even sure if he was going to be able to do it but he’s damned well going to try

So anyway

Pretty much everyone is trying to actually hike the PCT except Neil

He drives everyone bonkers

His motivation isn’t really about the trail so much as staying out in the wilderness where there are no gangsters to murder you

So he just does whatever he wants and keeps showing up at random points

He’s technically got one of the thru hiker permits but he frequently goes off on side trails not on the PCT and ends up hiding out in the woods so rangers won’t find him

He’ll just hitchhike straight through boring sections or anywhere that you pass through too many towns where he’d rather not be remembered

He keeps coming back to the PCT but it’s more like it’s a rough guideline of where to go than an actual route he’s taking

He’s got his natural colouring back because who’s dying their hair or wearing fucking contacts on the trail?

But also

Who would ever associate a runaway mafia kid with a guy with overgrown hair and a stained t-shirt who’s sitting serenely on a mountain pass in a photo on David Wymack’s website?

Nobody

That’s right kids, Nathan doesn’t have a role in this one because he doesn’t find Neil

Maybe he gets killed in a shoot out or something and some other gangster steps up and takes over, and in the shuffle Neil’s just kinda forgotten

Maybe he finds out months later and he just stares at the computer in shock because he should have known, shouldn’t he? He should have felt it when his father died

He should have realized that he was free

That happens later though

Who fucking cares what Riko’s doing honestly

Kevin has somehow attached himself to Andrew and is driving him up the wall with advice to improve his hiking/base weight/distance/etc and he sees this guy (Neil) who regularly covers like thirty or forty miles a day (obscene!) and is like YES this guy is my people!

Except when he starts talking to Neil he realizes he’s this total weirdo who doesn’t even have a cook set he just eats cold food (a common enough thing among ultralighters, but not like this. Oh god, not like this)

Neil’s just sitting there gnawing on a pack of uncooked ramen like a fucking animal

And he’s not! Even! Hiking! Properly!

You’ll never finish the trail if you hike like this!

Neil just gives him a blank look

He’s got no interest on getting on some “verified” list of people who hiked the PCT, he just likes hiking

Andrew likes him

I mean obviously he despises him what the hell is with that janky ass setup but also he’s so unconventional and unapologetic how could Andrew not be into that?

They’re the kind of people who give wilderness rescue personnel grey hair, but for completely opposite reasons

Neil keeps running into them because even though he covers so much ground every day, his meandering route means he doesn’t actually move down the trail very fast

They’ll be like wait weren’t you like a week ahead of us and he’s like oh yeah I heard about this cool waterfall and took a sixty mile side trail to visit it and nearly ran into a momma bear with two cubs, it was awesome

And they all start to grow on him, and each other, almost accidentally

Look none of them are out there romanticizing the trail as some kind of magical place where the problems of the real world disappear and the people are somehow more pure and true or whatever

People are people and they bring their issues wherever they go

But there is a paring down

When your daily concerns are just mileage and shoes and food and weather, a lot of other stuff fades into the background

And well the truth is a lot of people are on those trails to work through stuff

And they find each other

Gradually, without even really noticing

They team up in June, groups of three or four with crampons and ice axes to get over the Sierra’s.

Neil was planning to just do side hikes and wait for the snow to melt—he isn’t so reckless he wants to go over the ice alone, but Kevin insists he join them and for the first time he hikes in a group with Kevin and the cousins all together.

It’s weird

He’s not used to people talking to him when he’s hiking and he frequently doesn’t respond and it’s not because he’s being rude he’s just so focussed on what he’s doing and what’s around him that he literally doesn’t hear them

And then

Nicky slips

It’s not his fault, they did nearly everything right (Kevin may be a pretentious ass, but he does know his shit) but sometimes shit just happens for no reason

And they’re at the edge of the ice sheet so Nicky’s just untying himself from the rope that links them together, he’s not even moving, and the snow beneath him shifts and he doesn’t even have time to scream before he’s hurtling down the snow below the trail towards the cliff at the bottom of the ice sheet

Neil doesn’t even hesitate

He dives after him, ice axe in one hand like a fucking gladiator and gets his arm wrapped around Nicky’s waist

He slams the ice axe into the snow and it drags behind them, and it looks like it’s not going to catch, and the edge is getting closer and closer—

Until the axe catches something, and Nicky and Neil lurch to a halt, clinging to each other, hanging off of Neil’s one arm and the axe.

Neil looks up and sees Andrew, Aaron and Kevin in various places on the slope above them, their axes dug in and long gouge marks in the snow beneath their heels, strung together by a ropeline that’s still attached to Neil’s waist

That rope is probably the only thing that slowed them down enough that Neil could stop them without ripping his arm clean off

It’s hardly a by-the-book rescue, and in fact it was pretty stupid, but they’re okay, they’re okay, that’s all that matters

That night they light a fire down by a lake and Nicky cries on Aaron’s shoulder and Andrew keeps clenching his fists because he’s never felt so helpless in his life and it was Neil that jumped, not him

He knows that he was at the far end of the line and he would’ve made it worse if he had, but doing nothing while Neil risked his life to save Nicky

They don’t really talk about it

But you kind of can’t help being friends after that

And even after they’re out of the high mountains and back on solid trails Neil keeps tabs on them

And Nicky befriends the others and without even meaning to they start to develop a sort of loose trail family vibe

They’re not hiking together all the time like some of the groups they meet, but they check on each other all the time and wait up in resupply villages and bond over firepits and shitty hot chocolate mixes and swap tips on how to keep the butt-chafing at bay

Neil sticks to the outskirts, mostly, but he starts to open up a little, in fits and spurts, tiny non-specific things that wouldn��t even register to most people but that this particular group knows means more than that

He’s slowing down, too, sometimes hiking entire days with people and covering half his usual distance even when there’s no cliffs or glaciers threatening him

He likes hiking with Andrew the most, though

Because neither of them are big talkers when they’re hiking and Andrew’s pack might be absurdly heavy but he’s got legs the size of tree trunks and endurance to match, so he might not be fast but he can outwalk half the people on the trail by sheer relentlessness

They both like to camp up high, near treeline (so Neil can set up his tarp) and in the places that it’s legal they’ll start a small fire and Andrew will loan Neil his pot so he can actually cook his fucking ramen for once and sometimes they’ll watch the Milky Way rise and share secrets under the open sky, not looking at each other so they don’t break the illusion, and sometimes they won’t say anything at all but it’s okay, because they’re saying nothing together.

It’s nice

It’s maybe more than nice

The summer draws to a close and Neil is starting to realize that he doesn’t want it to

He never wants the hiking season to end but this time it’s different

This summer has been perfect

And he knows deep in his bones that once they leave the trail things will change

The others have lives to return to, and Neil…

The trail is all he has

And if he’s barely hiking alone at all these days, well, who’s going to call him out on it?

The others like having him around because he stops them from getting too fixated on the Trail to see the trail

He still takes side trips but now sometimes people will come along and he’ll stand at the base of a canyon staring up at the glossy white walls and Dan will snap a photo for her blog and smile, because the PCT is just a line on a map, but the hike is all of them; together

He’s hiking with Andrew in September when a storm hits, this time vicious

Neil huddles under his tarp in resignation

Storms suck, he always gets wet, no matter how much he lowers the tarp, but he’s used to it; he just waits it out

But it’s just getting worse

Hail lashing at the tarp and pummelling the ground and maybe for once he regrets camping so high up

And Andrew has to shout to be heard but finally Neil realizes he’s offering to let Neil come into his tent

You’re going fucking freeze, just get in here

Neil goes

It’s weird

It’s instantly weird

The tent is not built for two people, so they’re both sitting cross legged with their heads ducked to not press against the roof

The storms probably not going to let up soon, Andrew says

Yeah, Neil says.

Andrew sighs

Lie down, he says, and Neil does, and Andrew lies down next to him, shoulder to shoulder

It barely works, only because neither of them are very big people

Neil’s pack is outside wrapped in his tarp and all he has is his damp down blanket but he’s not cold anymore, not with Andrew bundled up in his ridiculous sleeping bag right next to him

The storm rages for nearly two days and what passes between them in that tent, nobody knows

If they’re barely ever seen apart after it, well. You only see people so often on the trail. It could easily be a coincidence

And if Neil doesn’t even set his tarp up on rainy nights anymore, well. They never camp near other people anyway, so who’s to know?

In early October the snow blows in, blocking the route to the finish.

They drift around a resupply village for almost two weeks, waiting for the trail to reopen, but finally even Kevin accepts that it isn’t going to

After all of that, none of them are going to finish the trail

It’s a disappointment—of course it is. For most of them, the end of their trip is now a nondescript exit into a village, no fanfare, no closure; they didn’t even know they were done for days

Still, it’s not so bad

They’re all together

Allison suggests Vegas, but they all laugh it down; they wouldn’t even know how right now, bearded and hairy and ravenous as they are

They go to South Carolina instead

It’s not really even discussed that they’ll stay together, they just all go; Allison hosts them at her resort and they laugh at the incongruous weirdness of seeing each other in real clothes, and it’s different, but it’s also okay

They stay for another two weeks, and they don’t hike another fucking inch

We should try the Continental Divide Trail sometime, Dan says

Her blog is so popular now that she’s got sponsorships from more than just Wymack waiting for her

She could make a career out of hiking and blogging and doing gear reviews and it’s a dream she’d never even realized she wanted until she had it

And if she accidentally fucked up and ended up with a hot trail boyfriend? Well, nobody’s perfect

And he has a great butt

(she has photos of it on her blog, from when they jumped into a glacier lake naked back in August)

Everyone is jealous

How about that trek in Iceland? Matt suggests

Or the whats-it-called in New Zealand, Allison says

Oh, I bet there’s some good ones in Europe! Nicky says. You guys can all meet Erik!

And it’s going to be different, but it’s not going away, and Neil feels calm in a way he never has at the end of a hiking season before

Eventually everyone has to start making plans to return to their lives, and jobs, and Neil sneaks out to the back of the house to sit in crisp fall air and watch leaves spiral down out of the trees

Andrew follows him

They sit together, watching the moon rise over the hills, and when Andrew asks Neil to come home, Neil says yes

#me? coping with my inability to go hiking by writing headcanons? its more likely than you think! #aftg headcanons #aftg au #andreil #bulletpoint fic #my writing #hiker au #gratuitous descriptions of hiker life #found family #this is like 3.5k idk man #this is very self indulgent lol

[deans-baby-momma]

Mommy’s (Not So) Good Girl-20

A/N: Only 5 more chapters after this one and GREAT NEWS!!!Only 5 more day of September so I will be posting a chapter a day until Sept. 30th. Then I am going on a small hiatus (again) to try and cope with this new “illness” and all it’s lovely side effects. 

I look at Dean wide-eyed as my mom’s voice sounds through the door. He jumps off the bed and I quickly crawl back under my comforter, pulling it up to my chest. 

“Yea Mom,” Abby says, her voice shaking. “Come on in.”

Mom opens the door and I can tell when she realizes that Dean is in my room. She looks at him shocked and stops halfway in.

“What are you doing in here?” she asks him.

“I wanted to make sure she was okay. I saw a dispute between her and that Coleman boy. I wanted to find out what that was about,” Dean explains and it looks as though my Mom buys it because she smiles sweetly at him and then continues on into my room.

“That’s sweet of him, isn’t it Abs?”

“Ye-yea,” I stutter out. “He’s a good stepdad.”

“Can I have a few minutes with her?” My mom asks as she looks at Dean. He nods and heads out the door, looking back over his shoulder at me once he is behind her. 

“What’s up Mom?” I ask as soon as he is out of sight.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry that your friend couldn’t make it tonight.”

“Huh?” I ask, confused.

“Your friend who you call ‘Daddy’.” she says, with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “You did invite him, didn’t you?” 

“Oh. Yea, I called him but he had to work,” I lie through my teeth. “It’s okay. It’s no big deal.”

“It was nice of Dean to give you a kiss at midnight though, wasn’t it?” she asks as she sits in the very same spot he had taken just ten minutes ago. “He really watches out for you and Ben. I think he’d make an excellent stepdad.” She pauses and then adds, “and a wonderful dad.”

I feel sick to my stomach! Is she insinuating what I think she is?!

“Mom, are you pregnant?”

“What?” she laughs as she answers. “No. I’m not pregnant. But the thought has crossed my mind. Dean lost so much when his brother died. He is the last living member of his immediate family. I just think it’d be nice to give him someone to carry on the Winchester name.”

‘Oh my god!’ I think to myself. ‘Mom is actually considering carrying Dean’s child! No, no no!’

“Yea, that would be nice. But-” I pause to be able to word my inquiry correctly. “Does Dean want kids? I mean sure he is awesome with me and with Ben but does he want his own?”

“I don’t know,” Mom says. “But if it were to happen, he’d have to be happy about it, right?”

“Mom, you cannot get pregnant without talking about it with him first.”

Mom sighs and then her shoulders slump. “Yea, you’re right. What was I thinking?!”

I breathe in relief that it seems that she has decided to forgo her plan of “accidentally” getting pregnant. 

I couldn't go to sleep after Mom dropped that bombshell. 

What was she thinking?! Did she actually believe Dean would be happy if she were to get pregnant? Would he? I know for a fact that they use protection, so he is trying not to knock her up right?

During Thanksgiving I had found an empty condom wrapper in her trashcan as I was gathering up the garbage in the house so I knew Dean, at least, had been thorough and had wrapped up.

I lay in bed,  staring up at the ceiling,  trying my best not to think of Dean impregnating my mother. That would just be so wrong!

Hopefully I talked some sense into her and she won't proceed with her nefarious and outrageous plan. I can only hope that if she were to get pregnant that it is after some honest discussion with the man and that he was on board with the idea as well.

Although, I don't think Dean is actually ready to settle down and have his own family.

Yes, he a excellent role model for Ben and the whole neighborhood thinks he and Mom are perfect for each other, they don't know he's also fucking me. Not so ideal now, is he?

VALENTINE'S DAY

Once again the campus is inundated with decorations. Big, red floating hearts seem to be posted everywhere, along with cutouts of that stupid baby with the bow and arrow and balloons seemingly come out of nowhere, getting right in the way.

Why college students insist on celebrating this holiday is beyond me. It's just another excuse to get drunk and try to bang someone. So many of my classmates throughout the last couple of years have had to pull back on their studies or completely drop out because a good Valentine romp ended up with a nice little surprise come Thanksgiving; a surprise in the form of a cute little baby.

I refuse to be one of those girls who get so blindly drunk she succumbs to the lame attempts by fellow college guys and 9 months later, alone and with a child to care for.

I swat away at the millionth red bag of air as my phone pings in my hand.  I look at the screen and smile when I see 'Daddy' has sent me a message.

>Happy Valentine's Day sweetheart 

>>Happy Valentine's Day Daddy. I miss you.

>God, I miss you too. My party was boring without you here.

Mom had thrown Dean a surprise birthday party at the end of January but I'd had a big exam to prep for so I couldn't make it home to attend.

>>I'm sorry. I had to study. I'll make it up to you, I promise. 

>How about today? Right now?

>>Now?

>Look up.

My head jerks up and there he is! I look around and my eyes fall on that black muscle car I remember from my childhood. The one that's been parked in the garage at home for months; Dean's excuse to spend time with Ben fixing it up and keeping it running.

Leaning against the top of the shiny ebony vehicle is the man who plagues my dreams, at night and during the day.  The way the sun shines creates a flawless glow around his head, almost like a halo. I smile as I cross the street toward him.

"What are you doing here?" I can’t help but to ask, but secretly giddy that he is here.

"Couldn't let today pass by without seeing you Abby. Thought you might allow me to take you to lunch, show me around your 'home away from home'," he says as I step toward him and he opens his arms. I gladly walk right into his embrace,  moving my books to one arm. 

I want to tiptoe and kiss him but I don't want anyone seeing anything that would raise questions, inquiries I didn't want to answer. Right now,  a hug looks innocent. Just a guy hugging a girl in greeting.

“Sure,” I say as I smile up at him. “I was just gonna drop my books off in my room and then go to the food cart down the way. C’mon.”

As we walk toward my dorm, I can’t help but feel special, feel important. Dean took the day to come an hour away to see me, on the day of love no less. Wait, does that mean what I think it means? Is there a more significant reason he is here? Is he here to declare feelings for me? 

I shake those thoughts from my head, determined not to question his visit but just enjoy it. So what if he drove almost 70 miles? He does it because he cares. Nothing more than that. I’m not going to scrutinize it; no, I’m going to enjoy the few hours I get to spend with the man. What’s that old saying, ‘don't look a gift horse in the mouth’? Yea I’m not going to do that.

When we get my dorm room, I unlock the door and walk in, holding it open so he can follow. Thank goodness Sheila isn’t here because I really don’t want to share any time I get to spend with Dean with anyone else. For a few hours today, he is mine.

Placing my books on my desk, I turn to see Dean looking around the room with his head nodding slightly. 

“So, you want to go with me to the food cart or-” I say nervously. Wait, why the hell am I nervous? Oh yea, that’s right; there is a bed not even 5 feet away and the man I have dreamed of being in that bed right there. My dream could actually come through. Getting back on track, I clear my throat. “-we could go to the cafe across campus. It’s a bit of a walk but it’s decent outside today. You know, for the middle of February in the north.”

“Yea we can do that baby,” he says with a smirk. “As soon as you tell me what’s wrong. You’re acting all shifty. Should I have called first? Do you have a date for Valentine’s Day?” He quirks and eyebrow at me.

I giggle and respond. “Uh, no.  No date. Just you’re in my room. And my bed is-” I explain as I point toward the furniture. “-is right here. I’ve dreamed of you and me in that bed, ya know.”

Dean steps closer and I can see the humor of the situation on his face. “And? What are we doing in the bed?”

I feel a flush come up my neck. Why am I embarrassed now? It’s not like we haven’t done it. “Fucking,” I answer honestly, which earns me a wide smile from the man in front of me.

“Well, how long will your roommate be gone?”

“Couple hours, I think.”

“Okay, so what do you say we go grab a bite to eat and then come back and make those dreams come true?”

Finally feeling bold again, I rip my sweater over my head and say, “Why wait?”

Dean hurriedly jerks his shirt off and I watch in awe. He unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down his legs before standing up again. This man is going to be the death of me.

“I need you Abby,” is all he says before I rush him, tackling him to the mattress.

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​ @spnbaby-67​ @tftumblin​ @sea040561​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @vicariouslythruspn​ @squirrelnotsam​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @sandlee44​ @blacktithe7​ @deanwanddamons​ @hoboal87​ @marvelfanbrenda​ @vicmc624​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @elliloumom @stoneyggirl​  @kricketc29​

#series #Mommy's (Not So) Good Girl #dean winchester #lisa braeden #abby braeden #ben braeden #dean x lisa #dean x abby #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fic #spn fanfic #between season 5 and 6 #Smut #angst #fluff

[if-found-return-to-gusu]

New Years with Lan Zhan

The following week leading up to New Years was… tense. But not in the way it had been before. This tension…. It was.. Well it was certainly potent. 

I was just… I was AWARE of him. I’d decided to hope and hoping ment I had to re-examine how I saw him. How I saw how he saw me, rather. Reading into his actions and words with a romantic lens is…. Well… The kind of tension it creates is not exactly kid-friendly, let’s just say.

…..

I wanted to jump him, okay? Jump his bones. 

Constantly. 

I wanted to kiss him. To hold him. To touch him. In every place. In every way.

Ya boi was thirsty okay. (Still am but whoo-boi that was a TENSE week.)

We kinda danced around each other. I was very aware of the fact that we had kissed on Christmas under the mistletoe and that I had almost kissed him again two other times since.  

Whenever we were close… the urge was so strong. Remembering the taste of his lips makes me just want to lick mine as if I can find traces of it still there. And every time I do I KNOW his eyes follow the movement. 

Does that mean he wants me to? Is he thinking about it too? Or is he just tracking movement like human eyes just do?

We agreed that our first kiss was a disaster and didn’t mean anything.

Was it possible… that he feels the same way I do about that? Because it didn’t mean nothing. It meant everything. 

Even if I tried to make it mean nothing. Even if I tried to convince myself it was just a mistake. Not to be repeated. Heat of the moment. Wrong. Manipulative. Bad. 

And it was.

But at the same time

Oh… 

Even if I never should have done it. That kiss…. 

When did I get to be this selfish? 

But maybe…. Selfish is okay.

Because Lan Zhan returned that kiss. And maybe it wasn’t just out of pity. 

I mean I’ll never know. I’ll never be ABLE to know regarding that kiss. But that doesn’t mean I can’t know for… well…. Future kisses. If he wants them even half as much as I do.

Even if it’s just a casual attraction. I can deal with that. If he wants me in ANY capacity beyond friendship….  I mean I can work with that.

Right???

---------------------

It all came to a head on New Years Eve. Or… Well I guess just New Years. We’d decided to spend the holiday together at home.  

All in all there isn’t much to say about the day leading up to ringing in the new year together. We decided to order in and have something delivered so we could be lazy and stay in our sweatpants all day. (Well I stayed in his sweatpants. I have a modest selection of clothes again now but nothing is more comfortable than stealing his. ((Also on that note, I’m still really kinda sad that I lost my sexy jeans. I haven’t been able to find anything that hugs my ass quite so well as those did. Shame.)))

We spent most of the day just sitting together on the couch and watching stuff. Streaming movies and trying out some episodes of new TV shows. We ate when we were hungry and munched when we weren’t. 

We even found some of the left over face masks to wear while he started our nightly routine of rubbing ointment into my hands (which by then had already almost completely healed due to his care and attention). My hands are completely healed now he still rubs in the lotion every night. It’s something neither of us seem willing to end. 

And… well… okay so… somehow. Don’t ask me how. But all day long I happened to find myself more often than not sitting er… in his lap.

Okay so it was on purpose. I sat on him as a ‘joke’ but then he slid his arms around my waist to hold me there and so… Well, I just stayed. 

I tried to get off at one point saying his legs were probably getting numb but he just pulled me back on and told me to stay.

So what was I supposed to do? His arms stayed around me most of the night. And when his arms weren't around me, his hands were on my hips or arms instead. Always touching me somewhere. Sometimes when I’d laugh at something on the TV his grip would tighten. Other times, when I was relaxed against him, he’d let me nuzzle his neck and breathe him in. I couldn’t help myself. In those moments he’d stroke my back, tracing patterns into my skin over my shirt. 

When it started to turn towards the evening I did finally get up. He let me after I promised I’d be back in just a moment. I hopped off to the kitchen. I’d bought a store of very low-alcohol content beverages. Lan Zhan and I had briefly talked at some point about trying this - seeing if we could find alcohol content low enough that he could enjoy getting tipsy without blacking out entirely. There were just things like Mikes Hard Lemonade or wine coolers and such. Very low content stuff. I tried to pick out things I thought he’d enjoy the flavor of. 

He looked confused when I returned with arms-full of different drinks, but still came up to help me take some.I reminded him of our talk of experimenting and said how I thought this was the perfect opportunity to try. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to. If you’d rather not I’ll just drink these myself. But I thought it would be nice. Since you said you wanted to try to drink with me and these are very mild.”

He cut off my rambling with a hand to my cheek and a smile to my heart. He placed the bottles on the coffee table and selected something to start with. I grinned at him and opened up a bottle of my own Emperor’s Smile (always in supply gratitude of the ever-attentive Lan Zhan. Poor liquor store is gonna think he’s an alcoholic with how often he buys it. ….

Am I an alcoholic? I mean I don’t have a problem going long periods of time without drinking. I honestly just like the taste. And I don’t usually drink enough to get even a little buzzed… so like… that’s fine right???

┌( ಠ_ಠ)┘

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah well I’ll talk to Wen Qing about that later…..))))))

I resumed my rightful place on his lap when he literally picked me up and placed me there. I laughed which made him smile and together we started to drink. He sipped at first, carefully testing out the flavor, but soon apparently decided that it wasn’t bad and drank with more confidence. 

We took it slow at first, seeing how he reacted. By the end of the first bottle he was feeling it a little but only just, he said. Which was a good sign!!

We thought about doing a drinking game but I thought that might be pushing it for our first time doing this together and we decided that depending on how this went maybe we would try that next time. If there was a next time.

The ‘Game’ idea stuck though and we both suddenly remembered the Switch that SangSang had left him all that time ago. We still don’t really have many games for it but that’s okay. 

Long story short

Tipsy Mario Kart is hilarious. We kept drinking through the night and both got a nice buzz going. I don’t know how to drive anyway but whatever. It helps you if you fall off the track and there are no turn signals or anything to worry about. But like okay here’s the thing.

As Lan Zhan got tipsier, he started to drive slower and MORE carefully. Like There’s this section on one of the maps where if you take a riskier jump it works as a shortcut. Like one of those high-risk/high-reward things. 

But like… I stopped one time to watch him. He very carefully steered his car so that he was lined up on the ramp and tried to like back up so he’d have a runway. It took him a good 20 or 30 seconds to just get his car straight. And then he punched it. 

Except there wasn’t any momentum. Because he went from dead-stopped. So he got to the top of the ramp

And just flopped over upside down on the track below. He was so frustrated!! It was adorable!

He came in dead last that time. (Though I was second to laugh because I kept flying off the edge as a result of laughing so hard while pressing the ‘go’ button. Oh my god. It really was hilarious. He was SO frustrated. I mean he’d tried SO hard!!). 

And don’t even get me started on Rainbow Road. I wish I’d recorded it somehow to show you guys. Just. Damn.  There was this one time that I flew off the road, yeah? And like normally the little guy carries you back on with the fishing line right?

Except I managed to fall ONTO the track below. Like going the wrong way and way further behind but like it was impressive!

Well I thought so anyway. 

Still managed to lap Mr. Careful though because Lan Zhan was DETERMINED not to fall off the road after the botched ramp incident. 

In the end we were so into the game that we both lost track of time completely. Fortunately sober Lan Zhan foresaw this problem which meant that at 11:45 the two of us were scared out of our skin by the sound of his phone’s alarm going off. 

“Oh! Oh yeah!! The fireworks!!!” I yelped in a moment of panicked clarity. (Nevermind that 15 minutes was more than enough time for even tipsy us to get our asses up to the roof like we’d planned.)

We gathered up some blankets and made the hot chocolate we’d planned for to keep us warm and both of us tromped up the little-used ladder that led to the roof. 

I’d always wanted to do this specific cliche. Sitting on a roof with the person I loved to ring in the new year together under the light of the celebratory fire-works. We were close enough to see them pretty well from there, Lan Zhan had promised. Even though he’d never done it himself. 

I trusted him. As I do with all things.

We managed to get our blankets set up. We’d planned on using chairs but instead decided on just some cushions instead so that we could stay closer to each other. 

“For warmth” I claimed. 

I remember waiting on that roof with him, half on his lap again as our misting breath mingled with the curling steam from the hot mugs of chocolate held in our hands. 

There was just enough snow around to make everything a little muffled. Quiet and calm. 

Between the liquor and the hot chocolate and Lan Zhan’s body pressed so close to mine, cold wasn’t even a whisper in my mind. I could have stayed like that forever.

I keep saying that don’t I? I guess it’s not so bad to have so many forevers, huh? Just means I’m happy with him, doesn’t it? And I am. I really am. As much as I want these moments to last forever… As long as I can have a forever with him… what more in this world could I possibly ask for? That’s what I want. I want a forever with him. I don’t care how or where. Just… as long as it’s with him.

My thoughts were swimming lazily in that direction when the first of the fireworks shimmered in the distance. We were far enough away that we could hear the boom without feeling the rumbling that accompanied it. I shimmied the rest of the way onto Lan Zhan’s lap when the display started and he put both of our mostly empty mugs aside so that he could slide his arms around me. 

The air shimmered. Pinks and golds and silvers and greens. Reds and blues  and oranges and purples. Sometimes in patterns. Sometimes just in a spray of glittering color.

I’ve always loved fireworks. The sound and the sight and the feel of them. The way they color the world for even a moment. I was always fascinated how different they are in person than they are with even the highest quality camera. It’s just… you have to see them live. Film just doesn’t do them justice.

Kinda like Lan Zhan. Beautiful on paper but in person just.. Stunning. 

The finale was timed perfectly for Midnight. “Happy New Year, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said softly in my ear, making me shiver for the first time since coming outside. And not from cold. 

I turned in his lap to look at him. “Happy New Year,” I replied in a whisper. He was so close. So so close.

This time… this time we both moved. I hadn’t been cold but the press of his lips against mine almost burned anyway. The kiss… it wasn’t the passion of our first kiss, or the awkward chastity of our second. This one lingered just a moment. Just enough that we could be sure that it was reciprocated on both sides. And when we parted a moment later we still stayed together. Lan Zhan pressed his forehead against mine, staring into my eyes and smiling that sweet smile that’s just for me. 

I remember laughing a little and nuzzling my nose against him, scrunching it in an attempt to be cute. It must have worked because he chuckled too. 

I don’t know how long we stayed like that, but despite the warmth of the moment, eventually we did start to feel the chill of the midnight air. It was with great reluctance that I untangled myself from him. We gathered everything up and took each other’s hand as we made our way back inside to the warmth of the apartment. 

We let go to start cleaning up a bit before bed. I knew it was late for Lan Zhan but I also know that he’d prefer going to bed with the place relatively tidy and that we’d thank ourselves in the morning. 

He went off to the kitchen to at least clean up some of the dishes and I set to putting the living room to rights. 

My task was the easier one so I finished pretty quickly. Unwilling to be separated from Lan Zhan any longer than I had to, though, I went to the kitchen to see if he needed some help. But then….

Well you all know I’m a little goblin, right?  

He was just… his back was turned to me at the sink. And his sides were exposed. Just begging to be tickled. 

And well, I wasn’t DRUNK, (at least off alcohol) but I was definitely tipsy and so I crept in like the goblin man I am, slinked up behind him and went in for the tickle. He SQUEALED and started laughing like a mad-man. All the dishes he was holding crashed into the sink and he held onto the counter for dear life. His leg seemed to give out on him for a moment as he gasped for breath between more peals of laughter. It wasn’t until the pig snorts started that he really tried to fight me. His ears were so RED as he twisted in my grip, snorting all the way like little (or not so little) laugh hiccups. Oh Oh I never thought that a pig snort could sound so wonderful. Hah. It was ridiculous.

Eventually he managed to twist around and wrap his arms around me, effectively pinning my arms to my sides so he could catch his breath. His head was resting on my shoulder as we both let our laughter die down some. 

It was all a ruse!

 A RUSE!!!

All of a sudden while I was pinned there completely defenseless I felt

Hands

On

My 

Ass!!!!

Apparently tipsy Lan Zhan decided that copping a feel was the only reasonable path for revenge.

Except… I don’t know how he knew. Or maybe it was just luck.

I am not ticklish anywhere on my body. Not even my feet.

Except for one place.

Nie Huaisang if I find out you’re the one who told him this I will skin you alive. 

My butt… I don’t know why and honestly it is a very well guarded secret except that SangSang found out by chance once. But my ass is SO ticklish. 

Lan Zhan grabbed a chunk (And there is a nice chunk to grab if I do say so myself) and just… 

I collapsed instantly. 

And now he knows.

Forever.

That if you tickle my ass

I bray like a damn donkey. 

Like I laugh THAT hard. That I can’t breath. And when I gasp for air it sounds like a fucking donkey.

Which of course got his pig snorts happening again. 

Thank GOD no one was near us wondering if we were expanding the bunny cafe into a full on fucking petting zoo. 

Jesus. 

And 

Just to make matters WORSE.

Okay so I’m a weak man. 

And I was trying to squirm away from him and he was trying to keep tickling my ass

And in order to keep tickling my ass and keep me from running his arms were still around me

Which means that we were pressed very close to each other

And I was squirming to get away and laughing and

Well….

You can guess what happened.

Let’s just say we were really feelin’ each other. 

⚆_⚆

And if you DON’T understand what I mean. Good for you. Keep your innocence. I will not tarnish. 

SO I mean clearly he was disgusted with me and made me sleep in the guest room and avoided ever touching me again, right? Except he wasn’t and he didn’t.

It was… well it was definitely awkward but…. We didn’t let go. 

I mean we didn’t do anything else either. Maybe we could blame the alcohol or the fact that it was late or the just natural reaction of rubbing up against someone else. All of which may be true. 

I mean we did talk a little. It is a natural reaction right? And… well… 

I could still feel that kiss from the rooftop. I’d been trying NOT to linger on it too much, deciding it was something for my more sober brain to process in the morning. But I mean… We had just kissed. Under the moonlight. On the rooftop. In some new cheesy cliche 80’s romcom moment that I’ll treasure forever. 

And then

We…

Ugh…

We both decided in the end that that was something to be dealt with when we were sober and that it was either way a natural reaction that just happened sometimes and that we could talk about it later if needed. 

And after we.. em… caught our breath… we did eventually finish cleaning up and went to bed. As we normally do. Which means he was holding me. (Though I did pointedly avoid hip contact just in case ( ఠ ͟ʖ ఠ). )

We did NOT actually mention it again. I don’t know for sure that he remembers it and there’s no way in fuck I’m gonna bring it up if I don’t have to. At least not right now. We’ve got… other things to sort out in our relationship first. 

Like… like the kisses. 

First one doesn’t count (even though it does count.) because of circumstance

Second one still doesn’t really count because peer pressure and circumstance

But third one…..

It could have been the alcohol. And well, yes. The alcohol absolutely played a part. I know it gave me courage but I don’t know how it was influencing him. So STILL iffy on that circumstance and all that. (Alcohol =/= consent guys. Legit.) but like with how we’d been acting since Christmas and just… 

It’s given me a lot to think about. 

And we haven’t really talked about it but we aren’t like… avoiding it either. We’re just… I think we’re both testing the water. 

And I’m starting to really really… It’s more than hope now. 

His birthday is like in a week. And I’ve made my choice. I wanted to wait until my situation was much more settled before I even thought about trying to move our relationship in any direction. 

And Now….

I’m in a much better place. I’m emotionally much more stable. And if needed I can find a new place to stay now so I’m not so dependent on him anymore.

So I think… I think at his birthday on Saturday… Maybe after the actual shindig… when we’re home alone together…. 

I’m going to get him a gift just like he got me and…. And I’m going to tell him. I’m going to tell him everything. Tell him how I feel. I’ll confess and then… well… Whatever he decides then… well I’ll respect it. 

But I’m tired of this in between. I want one or the other. I want to know. I want to take my chance. Shoot my shot. I want to throw the ball into his court.

I just… I just hope he picks it up. 

Fuck. This is gonna be hard.

#lan wangji #wei wuxian #wangxian #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #Long Post #(Modern AU!)

[bestillmyslashyheart]

Michael was deep in a conversation with Liz about the potential technology they could create from fragments of the pod and almost missed Alex’s exit entirely. As it was, it took a few moments for Alex’s farewell to sink into his brain.

“Wait,” he cut Liz off. His head perked up and he looked around their crowded table. “Where’s Alex?” 

Liz looked around in confusion. “He was just here. Maybe he went to the bathroom?” Kyle noticed them both looking and raised an eyebrow in question. “Where’d Alex go?” Liz asked.

“He went home,” Kyle replied, glancing over his shoulder at the front door. 

“Already?” Liz’s jaw dropped. “We haven’t even been here an hour! He’s bailing on Maria’s birthday?”

“It’s okay,” Maria replied, tuning into their conversation. “He’s been working like crazy lately and he’s exhausted. I told him to go home and get some sleep.”

“When did he leave?” Michael asked, ignoring the sinking feeling in his gut. “I needed to talk to him about something.”

Max looked at him strangely before replying. “Just a minute ago. If it’s urgent you might still be able to catch him in the parking lot.”

“Right,” Michael pushed to his feet. “I’ll be right back.” He dropped a kiss on Maria’s forehead and hurried out the door just in time to see Alex pulling himself up into his car. He moved slowly, like his leg was bothering him.

“Alex!” Alex froze, his body only half in the car. Michael jogged over to him.

“Guerin,” Alex greeted. “Something wrong?”

“Besides you dipping out of your best friend’s birthday party early?” Michael tried to tease. Alex just looked at him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Alex replied immediately. “It’s been a long week and I’m just tired.” He jerked his chin at the Pony. “Go back inside. Have fun. The night is young.”

“Alex.” Michael waited until Alex looked at him. “Are you okay?” Because Alex looked awful. Michael believed he was tired, the exhaustion clear in every line of his body, but it was more than that.

“I’m fine,” Alex answered again. He held Michael’s gaze steadily. “I’m just really tired.”

“Bad week at work?” 

Alex shrugged. “Not bad. Just a lot.” Plus they’d spent two days chasing leads on his mother and he knew Alex and Kyle had been busy with Project Shepherd stuff at some point. Alex was pulling himself in at least three directions plus trying to make time to actually see his friends and it had to be wearing him down.

“You should slow down,” said Michael. “Stop trying to do so much.”

“I can handle it,” Alex brushed him off. “Did you need something?”

Michael wasn’t sure how to answer that. Because he did need something from Alex, something he couldn’t admit to even to himself. He wasn’t sure why he’d felt the need to come running out after him and he didn’t know how to explain himself now that he was asked. “It’s not like you to leave early,” he said a little helplessly. “Just wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything we should know about.”

Alex’s eyes hardened. “I’m fine, Guerin. Nothing’s going on except me going home to sleep.”

“You know you’re allowed to not be fine, right?” Michael couldn’t help himself. 

“Sure,” Alex didn’t quite scoff. 

Michael narrowed his eyes. “You are.”

Alex sighed and braced himself on the side of the car. Michael blinked and finally took in Alex’s positioning. He hadn’t gotten out of the car when Michael walked up so he was sitting sideways in the driver’s seat, one hand on the door frame and the other kneading his right leg carefully. “What do you even care?” Michael flinched, the words hitting him unexpectedly. The worst part of it might be that Alex didn’t even sound angry, just tired. 

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Alex just looked at him, his head tilted sideways like Michael was a difficult puzzle he couldn’t quite work out. “I didn’t think it was a confusing question.”

“You look like shit, Alex.”

“Thanks, I think you look pretty great too,” Alex shot back, his voice thick with sarcasm. “Is my appearance bothering you? Because I will remind you that I’m trying to leave and you’re currently stopping me.” Michael wasn’t actually stopping him. 

“Alex, what’s going on with you?”

The hand that was braced on the door frame came up to his face, his fingers rubbing hard at his temple. “I’m tired, Guerin,” he said for the fourth time. “I’m not sure why you picked right now to pretend to give a shit but I’d really like to go home and sleep.”

“I’m not pretending,” Michael said before he could truly process Alex’s words.

Alex scoffed. “Right.”

“Alex,” Michael took a step towards him. “I’m not-”

“Right,” Alex repeated. “Do you know since I got back to Roswell, you haven’t once asked about how I’m doing? Not once.” His lips twisted like he was trying to smile but couldn’t quite manage it. “I’m not sure why you picked right now to play pretend but I’m not in the mood.” He twisted so his legs were in the car and pulled the door shut. “Good night Guerin,” he said through the open window.

Michael heard the engine turn over and hurried the last few feet to the car. Before Alex could pull away, Michael stuck his hand in the open window and grabbed the steering wheel. Alex sighed with a bone deep weariness but didn’t fight him. 

Alex never fought him.

“What do you want?” Alex let his head fall back against the headrest. He didn’t look at Michael.

“What’s wrong with you?” Michael shot back.

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

Michael clenched his jaw. “And what happens when you’re not fine?”

Alex took a few slow, even breaths before lifting his head to look at him. For a moment, his face was unguarded. Michael had enough to time to read the exhaustion in his face, more than he usually saw, as well as a lot of sadness. “When I’m not fine...” he sighed. “When I’m not fine, I’m just tired.” 

Michael didn’t know how to reply to that so he let Alex unwrap his fingers from the steering wheel and press his hand back into his chest. Alex’s fingers lingered on his hand as he pulled away. 

“Good night, Guerin,” he said again before rolling up the window. Michael took a step back and let him drive away.

He stood staring after Alex’s truck long enough that he couldn’t even see the dirt flying up behind him anymore by the time Maria came out looking for him.

“Hey,” she grabbed his arm gently, turning him towards her. “What’s wrong?”

“Alex,” Michael replied honestly. “He’s not- he’s not okay.”

Maria sighed. “I know.”

Michael turned on her. “You know?”

“He’s been my best friend for 20 years,” she replied evenly. “I know when he’s going through something but he doesn’t want to talk about it and pushing him won’t do anything but make him clam up.” Her hand slid down into his and she squeezed lightly. “We just have to be there for him, okay? Just keep dragging his ass out to be with us and showing up when he doesn’t.” She smiled a little sadly. “He’s not okay now but he will be.”

Michael stared down at their joined hands and then back in the direction Alex had disappeared. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“He will be,” Maria said, conviction in her voice. 

“Maria-”

“Michael,” she cut him off. “He’s a damn good liar with a terrible track record of putting himself dead last in literally everything but calling him on it doesn’t help. Do I think he was lying when he said he was okay with us being together? Yes. But do I think confronting him about it will help in any way? No.” She shook her head. “He’s not as okay with us being together as he’d like us to think but he’s also got a lot going on right now. I just want to give him time, okay?” It’s been months, Michael didn’t say. “Give him time to process and deal and if he’s still not, well,” she shrugged. “Then I show up on his doorstep with good alcohol and terrible music and I drag the truth out of him.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “That works?”

Maria smiled. “Usually.” She stepped back, their arms stretching between them. “Come on back inside. It’s my birthday and I want to spend it with as many of the people I love as I can.”

It was the closest they’d ever come to using that word for this thing between them and it sat heavily in his gut. Michael forced a smile that disappeared the second Maria turned and walked away. He looked towards the road even as he let her pull him back inside.

Tonight it was Maria’s birthday and he was where he needed to be. 

Tomorrow he could deal with Alex.

#roswell fic #malex fic #kinda sorta #rnm #my fic

[grahamstoker]

Pranks for the Fun Time || Graham and Maple Leaf

Time: a couple weeks ago Players: Graham, Maple Leaf @thisphoneisbiggerthanme Summary: A vampire meets a pixie in the park. Fae nonsense ensues. Content Warnings: None

The vampire opted to let Frankie and Layla have the house tonight, deciding to venture out for one of Graham’s more secretive hobbies - reading a book he was fond of by the warm light of a lamp post in the park on a bench. He only accepted light FROM lamp posts and nothing else because… well, he wasn’t sure. There was something about sitting in a park in the evening, hearing nothing but nature and being bathed in the welcoming artificial light. He had read this book several times by now but he always came back to it with a certain fondness. He sat on the bench how he sat on his couch at home, relaxed, somewhat splayed with one leg over the arm as though he were royalty and the bench was his throne. One hand held the book while the other absently flickered between turning the page and his thumb returning to his mouth for him to chew on absently. God, he missed the heat of his breath.

One stray sod seed, two stray sod seed, three… On and on Maple Leaf had gone, until she had covered a whole patch of grass. Already, the seedlings were taking root, outcompeting the normal lawn grass. In a few days, it would be a glorious chaos - well, it would be if the apocalypse didn’t come out of the eye in the sun. She had just about prepared to return to her hole under someone’s house with a secret socket for her phone when she spotted a Big Leg, perched on a bench with a book and under the flight. Her tiny body flashing brighter with excitement as she darted over. It had been a couple weeks since she’d left her nest properly to be where the Big Legs were, and now she wanted to find out alllll about him. “Hi!” She yelled, because Big Legs couldn’t hear well. “What’re you reading??”

“Jeeesus!” Graham was startled out of his position, hastily pulling his leg close to him as if a shark just appeared out of the ground to snap at it. His bright blue eyes darted around for a moment, wondering where that voice came from. “Uh…” He couldn’t find anything immediately. Maybe he was finally losing it; his mom always told him that psychosis would take him but he didn’t know it’d be so soon. “Hi?” He asked, not entirely unsure but also none-TOO-sure. “I’m reading Red Dragon,” He stated to the voice that asked, holding the book aloft as if the source of the voice was standing far enough away that he’d need to hold it up for it to be seen. “Whhhyyy?” He lowered the book again, still looking around for the source of the voice.

“Ooh, is it about red dragons? Does it have any pictures? Can I see?” Maple Leaf replied, darting around this guy to get a good look at him, her wings buzzing like a horsefly around him. He was looking around all over like he thought she was some sort of poltergeist. Maple Leaf giggled, waving her arms and pulsing brightly. “I’m over here! I’m not scary, don’t worry! I just want to talk and learn all your deepest darkest desires and um maybe your favourite colour? What kind of Big Leg are you?”

Graham didn’t find the source until she held still long enough, eyes falling on… He sighed. Was this a fairy? Or a pixie? What was the difference? Was he on drugs again? He had to keep track or that sort of thing. The hell was a ‘big leg’? “Okay hold up, lemme answer your questions in order then maybe stick to, like, two at a time,” Graham inhaled. “It’s not about actual dragons insomuch as a painting of a dragon. That’s the only “picture” in the book and it’s not even IN the book, it’s on the COVER of the book,” He replied, keeping a finger on the page as he closed the book to show her the cover. “See?” He kept it closed while he recalled her other questions and comments. “We only just met, doll, so you aren’t entitled to my deepest, darkest desires yet. My favorite color is blue. And normally I’d say ‘just a regular guy’ but since I’m either trippin’ or talking to a… fffairy? Pixie? I’ll be honest with you and say ‘vampire’.” He said the last word quietly, quirking an eyebrow at the little flying creature. “Okay, your turn. Who and what are you?”

“Why would you read a book about a painting of a dragon? Why not just go see some real dragons, if they exist? Or just skip the painting part and read a book about dragons. OR skip the book part and look at a painting of dragons. I don’t know, kinda seems redundant otherwise.” Maple leaf commented sagely, and looked around before perching herself on his knee, glowing brightly. He’d said two questions, but then he said he was a vampire, and Maple Leaf had never met a vampire before! She wanted to fly over to his lips and pull them up to see his teeth, but resisted, for now. “Well, fun fact, I don’t have very much blood in me at all. So, don’t even think it mister. But my favourite colour is sunset pink or rhododendron red. I’m a pixie, and my name is Maple Leaf. Does this mean that someday you’ll tell me your deepest, darkest secret?”

Very chatty, this one. Graham had never met a pixie and if she was the example, then he wasn’t too entirely sure if he wanted to meet others. “It’s a book. The dragon’s a metaphor,” He replied rather simply to her line of questioning. He was paying full attention to her now as she sat on his knee, not even registering her weight. She was so small, so light and fragile and yet… so vivacious. Unafraid. “Duly noted, little lady,” He scoffed. “Sunset pink’s a fun color though so props for that.” He chuckled this time, resisting the urge to bounce his knee lightly to startle her… if she could be. “Maybe. What if my deepest, darkest secret isn’t as deep or dark as you’re hoping?” He asked.

"A metaphor," Maple Leaf replied skeptically, giving him a hard side eye. Why would you have a metaphorical dragon when you could have a real one. Or at least a cockatrice, as a treat. "I'm not little! I'd like you to know that I'm above average height for a pixie! You’re just humongous!” She laughed, like tiny ringing bells. You're just humongous!" She retorted    “Oh, I just like knowing secrets. But if your deepest, darkest secrets aren’t dark enough for you we can make you some new ones!"

It was Graham’s turn to laugh, warm and normally disarming but in this case, it was just a natural reaction; he caught her side eye, knowing she didn’t find his answer satisfactory but that was just the nature of the question. “It’s just a saying; I’ll have YOU know that I’m average for someone MY size.” He found himself enjoying the company of the strange little creature. “Oh yeah? Like what? What counts as a ‘dark’ secret to you?” He did bounce his knee very lightly this time as he talked; he was legitimately curious about what a little light like Maple Leaf would think qualified as dark enough that his might not be by comparison..d

“A dark secret?” Maple Leaf tapped her chin thoughtfully, then squealed indignantly as he bounced his knee, jumping off it and hovering. “Hey! That was mean!” She crossed her arms, looking deep and hard into Graham’s pretty eyes. “Are all Big Legs so rude or is it just you? Anyway, a dark secret I have is that I’ve stolen the pollen from 20 bees. Just this week! I really like how it tastes and its funny watching them trying to do the bee signal wibble wobble for ‘watch out! There’s a pixie here’!”

Graham had set his book down fully by this point, keeping his eyes on the pixie with a mischievous smile on his face. “Really?” He said, his eyes widening with feigned surprise and he likened her behaviour with that of a child. He started to entertain the notion of creating a wild story in turn for her dark secret but he actually found himself contemplating what secrets he DID have that were her version of dark. “That’s a pretty good one, not gonna lie…” He thought aloud, tapping his finger against his chin as he bit the inside of his cheek absently. “Wait, you don’t talk to bees? How do you steal their pollen?” He asked, a hint of legitimate curiosity in his voice. Wait, did he care? ...Well, yeah, he supposed a part of him did.

“Still being rude!” Maple Leaf replied, her nose wrinkling in annoyance. “Why would I be able to talk to bees? I know we’re like similar sizes but our societal structures and expressivity of language is vastly different. Can you talk to every Big Leg in the world?” Despite her annoyance, she didn’t mind talking. “Well, first I illusion them a patch of flowers that smells all kinds of bountiful, but only after they’ve already collected pollen. And then I make me look like a flower, and when they try to take my pollen I do a whole switcheroo and take theirs instead. Kinda like this!” And just like that, the bench beneath them began to twist into a befanged, metal monstrosity, the back curving up and over them like a giant gaping maw.

“Sorry!” Graham said rather quietly as he shushed himself for Maple Leaf to continue her explanation on her pollen-theft. Ah, so she used… magic. He wasn’t surprised, why did his mind voice and narration sound surprised? She was a pixie; of course they used magic… right? It seemed like an obvious thing. What was less obvious, however, was how the bench underneath him suddenly looked and felt decidedly less like a bench and more like a creature that could do some damage. The vampire felt his instinct kick in and though he didn’t make a scene out of it, he deftly, unnaturally maneuvered his body around the contorting mass of metal in a fluid motion and took a very generous step away from it, appearing almost as though he were gliding instead. He beheld the magic, not experiencing fear but rather a twisted curiosity and perhaps even a glimmer of entertainment, as though he were a child observing a magic trick. “Whoa!” He exclaimed. “How the hell’d you do THAT?”

Maple Leaf grabbed onto the collar of Graham's collar, and if he listened especially closely he might have heard the tiny "weeeeeee!" Of joy as he pulled her through the air faster than she'd ever gone. Once he was standing she let go, clapping her hands in glee. "It's an illusion!" She chirped, and the bench looked harmless once more. All that creeping metal crumbled into the wind and nothing more, a small personal delight. Maple Leaf grinned up at Graham. "Did I scare you?" Graham heard the noise but had to look around for a moment to find the source, realizing that she had grabbed onto him when he moved and he gave her a small grin. “Scare me? Naaaaah.” He dismissed lightly with a wave. “You surprised me, though,” He admitted, tilting his head at the bench once more. “An illusion, huh? Pretty damn impressive magic trick if I do say so, myself,” He stroked the stubble on his chin. “No wonder you’re so good at stealing from bees; I can’t imagine how they perceive stuff like that.” He quirked an eyebrow. “I think I’d die if I was a bee and got freaked out by something like that.” He laughed.

“Rats! How can I scare you?” Maple Leaf asked earnestly, as if she was asking what kind of cake he might prefer. She let go of the button of his sleeve, buzzing brightly as she darted back up to his face. Not that he’d be able to tell easily, but she blushed under his compliments, flying in an excited figure of eight to show her enthusiasm. “Bees don’t scare too easy, they’re made of tough stuff. Which is why it’s fun to steal their pollen.” She tapped her nose knowingly. “Wait! I forgot to ask! Can I have your name?” “You can’t; I’m an unscareable master,” Graham replied, crossing his arms matter-of-factly as he couldn’t help but smile at her obvious display of excitement. Then the thought occurred to him that they’d been effectively hanging out for what felt like at least twelve minutes now and they didn’t know each others’ names. “Oh, sorry! The name’s Graham,” He announced before motioning with his hand. “And what do I call you?” He asked, finding the way she asked just slightly strange and almost as though there was something… he should’ve known but EH maybe he was just being weird.

“Nope, those are Redcaps, but you are definitely not a Redcap in the slightest!” Maple Leaf said with a hmph, looking him up and down. “Vampires are definitely in the scareable list. But don’t you worry, I’ll figure it out soon enough!” More importantly, he walked right into her trap. She guffawed, clutching her belly and laughing at him. “Well you can call me Graham too because that’s my name now!” She squealed in delight. 

The hell was a Redcap. The vampire didn’t have time to contemplate that for long when she suddenly started laughing at him and he cocked his head to the side sharply, the look of puzzlement evident on his face. “Wait, what?” He asked. He paused for a moment, uncrossing his arms and feeling his brow furrow. Wait… wh-- ohhh. “Wait, your name’s Graham?” He asked. “Huh! Small world. I mean, really small world, like pixie-sized that I happened to run into the one pixie with the same name as… Wait.” The smile slid off the vampire’s face. “Wait, that’s… Okay, that’s YOUR name but--” The look of confusion was front and center. “Then… what’s MY name?” He asked.

“HAhahahaHA!” Maple Leaf squealed, looping loops in the night air. Definitely not-Graham looked completely bamboozled, utterly incensed. She laughed until her sides ached, until she could hardly breathe and her face was turning blue. “I took it! I took it! And now you’ll never know your name unless I give it back! Wow, it is so much easier to take names here than it is on the other side of town!”

The vampire was decidedly having a lot less fun now, feeling his expression go from confused to slowly more irritated. Well, THAT wasn't fair. “Wait, you did the what-now?” He asked, opting to cross his arms almost like a child who didn’t get what he wanted. “You stole my name?” He asked, bristling. “How do you even do that?” He had to admit that he wasn’t familiar at all with fae practises… hell, he was still learning about vampires.

“I did! Do you want it back?” Maple Leaf giggled, darting over to perch on his angrily crossed arms. “I stole it because I asked to have your name, and then you gave it to me! That’s how it works. But I can give it back if you like! Oh, you look a little angry, but it’s just a game!” It took a second for the vampire to realize what the pixie was talking about but shortly after he thought about it, he gave a single nod of his head. “Ohhh. So when you said “can I have your name”, you were actually asking if I would GIVE it to you. Like it’s a literal bargaining chip,” He explained, more to himself. “Well that’s pretty sneaky, I gotta admit. I sorta walked into that one.” He uncrossed his arms carefully as she perched on them and one hand rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d… kinda like my name back, yeah. Do all fae do that?” He asked, keeping this exchange in mind for any future encounters he might run into. First rule, read between the lines. Damn fae.

“Yup yup! You vampires sure are gullible!” Maple Leaf crowed, tumbling head over heels along his arms. Although, it was kinda starting to be a let down. If you stole a fae name, then automatically you went into a duel of words and smarts and thinking, all to get the name back. Maybe other cultures just didn’t do that kind of thing. She’d have to test it with other vampires to find out. “Fine, fine, I return your name to you, Graham! I’m Maple Leaf, and it was cool to meet you!” And you pixies are kinda jerks, newly-reappointed Graham thought as he metaphorically snatched his name back from her when she offered it, placing it on his mental desk once more. “I suppose you aren’t the worst, uh… pixie I’ve ever met,” He relinquished with a dismissive shrug, still feeling slightly silly that he walked into such an obvious trap. “BUT yeah, it was kinda cool to meet you, too.” He pointed a finger at her in mock threat. “Next time you steal my name I’mma… I dunno, do SOMETHING mean back to you.” He said, finding that he couldn’t stay exactly angry at the prank or her for that matter. At least she gave his name back.

“Prank wars! Oh, that will be so fun! Now I have to steal your name again, but some other time. It’ll be a surprise!” Maple Leaf gasped, clasping her hands together. Her eyes were welling up with bright tears of excitement, thrilled to have made a new prank friend. Maybe this vampy-guy wasn’t so bad after all! “Prank you some other time, Gram-Grams!” And with that, she darted off into the park, planning the mischief she could do next time. Oh! What about turning his teeth into water balloons? Wait, prank wars? That wasn’t what Graham had in mind when he said that - he was thinking more along the lines of taking a couple of fingers and giving her a firm flick. He started to retaliate when she zoomed off and he was left standing there by himself in the dimly-lit park, hand raised and mouth open as if to make a point. His bright blue eyes followed her as she departed but found himself frowning, going back over to his book on the bench. Gram-Grams? Maybe if someone took his name, next time he’d pick one that couldn’t be turned into as many derogatory, cutesy nicknames. 

#x: Maple Leaf #x: Pranks for the Fun Time #wickedswriting #//Maple Leaf's a joy #//and so is Immo

[rainandhotchocolate]

Away

A/N I’m an anxious mess lelel so here’s some Jily fluff during the war that I wrote for @hogwartsonline September OWLs.

Prompt: In the middle of the war, character A doesn't come home at the time they're supposed to. Character B starts to worry immediately. How long A stays away and if they're actually hurt or not is up to you.

AWAY

“She was supposed to be home an hour ago,” James was pacing the living room, drumming his hands on his legs as Sirius, Remus, and Peter watched him from their dark green couch. Lily had bought it because it would always bring out her eyes whenever she sent Christmas cards to the Dursley’s and secretly wanted to look extra good.

“You know these missions run long, you can’t freak out every time she doesn’t come back.”

“She usually sends a message if that happens.”

“Well maybe they weren’t able to cast spells where they are.”

“Or maybe they had to be silent.”

“Lily can cast anything silently.”

“Well maybe-“

“Can you all just please shut it,” James hissed at the boys. He ran a hand through his already very messy hair and looked around the room as if he expected to her just pop up on the mantelpiece with a grin and a wild mission story, “I can’t just sit here I’ll go insane.”

Remus rolled his eyes at James’ agitation, keeping his face calm and clear so that he wouldn’t notice the slight panic that was building in his chest. James was right, Lily always contacted him. Once he even received a Patronus when she was just on a girl’s weekend and had gotten a little too drunk with Marlene to head home.

“We have to go talk to Dumbledore; he knows where they went.”

“You know he told us to stay put,” Peter went to put a hand on James' shoulder but he shrugged Peter off quickly and walked towards the fireplace, his hand hovering over the floo powder, wondering if anyone would stop him if he threw it into the fire. They had been on lockdown for two weeks now, with everyone in the floo network being watched and no way of knowing if death eaters were able to track them as well.

Sirius hadn’t spoken yet, fiddling with the large black ring he still wore on his finger. It was the only thing that Regulus had given to him before he disappeared. He couldn’t tell yet if he was numb to the idea of losing more people or it was like a dam, waiting to burst at the sound of another name brutally murdered or tortured by another member of his family.

James had continued to hover awkwardly in place next to the fire, his mind clearly racing.

“Don’t be an idiot you know we can’t use the floo network,” Remus grabbed his shirt and pulled him away, dragging him back into a seat, “Just give it to me before we raise any alarms.”

“This is ridiculous, why did he only send the two of them,”

“Because they are ten times better spell casters than us, and you always do stupid things to protect Lily,” Sirius stood up finally, looking a little more determined than Remus would like, but to James this meant excitement. He hadn’t really wanted to say it, but he’d been waiting on Sirius to distract him. He was the only one that really could these days.

“Let’s go get a drink, we can pretend it’s a boys night and get Peter to attempt to pick up women.”

“I’m not a spectator sport,” Peter grumbled, curling up on the couch, “And anyway, we can’t leave the house.”

“Fine, we can use the rest of my gin, just as long as James doesn’t run out on us,” Remus stood up to grab his bag and pull out a large bottle.

“Why were you carrying that with you?”

“I wasn’t sure I could get through a whole night indoors with you twats without being tipsy,” Remus winked at Sirius who scowled and grabbed the bottle from him.

“Fine, truth or dare?”

“Padfoot, we aren’t 16-year-old girls,” James sat down on the floor in front of the couch, leaning back on his arms. Sirius took a large swig of gin and winced, shaking his head as he shuffled towards the front of the couch so he could lean over and pretend to stare at him maliciously.

“Truth or dare, punk.”

“Dare,” James snorted but leaned back towards him raising his eyebrows.

“Alright, I dare you to let us tie you up and do anything to you.”

“Anything?” James winked at Sirius, shaking his chest at him like a very good go-go dancer.

“I mean whilst we would make a very hot couple, I don’t think Remus would approve,” Sirius pouted at Remus who rolled his eyes, “Anyway I was thinking more different kinds of food items that we could raid from the fridge.”

“Or ice!” Peter grinned mischievously, nodding his head slowly.

“Ahh we have taught you so well,” Sirius held a hand to his heart and stood up, “let’s get some supplies, shall we?”

Sirius and Peter had rushed into the kitchen, resulting in a loud crashing noise and feigned whispers of ‘he didn’t hear’ ‘I’ll fix that later’. Remus has a small smile on his face as he walked over to James, wand ready in his hand.

“Are you sure about this?”

“If you don’t tie me up, I will find Voldemort right now and ask him truth or dare,” James winked but there was an edge to his voice. He could hear a little ticking clock in his head that was counting how long she’d been away for 2 hours, 37 minutes, 10 seconds.

“Alright, listen to me carefully, I’m sure Lily would want to try this another time.”

“How kinky.”

“Was more thinking of you playing Quidditch in the living room.”

Within 20 minutes James has his hands and feet tied up on the carpeted floor with two trays of ice cubes slowly melting on his half-naked body.

“Oh…k,” Shivered James, opening his mouth for Sirius to pour more gin into his mouth, “Who was next?”

“Moony for sure,” Sirius turned his grin on Remus, who looked very apprehensive.

“Please don’t dare him to make out with you again, I never needed to see that much tongue,” Peter shivered and glared at the couple, Remus smiling sheepishly and Sirius waggling his eyebrows.

“Fine no making out, I dare Moony too… striptease us for 30 seconds.”

“Oh, come on, no one wants to see that,” James continued to shiver lightly but was grateful to have a distraction from the ticking clock whilst he tried not to get frostbite in dangerous areas.

Suddenly, there was a large bang followed by figures moving in the back garden. The three boys who weren’t awkwardly tied up jumped immediately to their feet, wands in their hands. James, on the other hand, squirmed uncomfortably, regretting letting them magically tie the ropes.

“Help!” Marlene and Lily came crashing through the back door, Marlene’s arm wrapped around Lily’s waist as she hauled her inside and towards the couch. The marauders swerved, lowering their wands so that they could help Lily onto the cushions and check her injuries.

“Oh my god Lily are you ok, what the hell happened,” James was still squirming, now sitting up so that he could be face to face with his wife, his face paling by the second.

“Something more exciting than your evening obviously,” Lily tried to tease through gritted teeth, wincing loudly as Marlene pulled back her shirt that was stuck to her side with dried blood.

“This idiot decided to go after Greyback and was almost cut in two,” Marlene hissed, “couldn’t just gain intel like the rest of us.”

“Oh, come on Marls, you know it was much more fun my way.”

“More fun, but also more near-death,” Marlene replied sourly, heading into the kitchen to grab the supplies they had left there for any order members who needed immediate attention. Peter had leant over to undo James’ ties whilst Sirius had begun cleaning Lily’s wound with his wand.

Remus was standing above them, unmoving, and looking a little bit ill.

“You did what?” He said quietly, staring at Lily as she squirmed on the couch.

“Well he was there and talking about his plan to turn more children, we couldn’t just leave him there to torture them!”

“It’s not your job to go after random death eaters on intel missions, you could have gotten someone killed,” Remus was unnervingly calm, watching her without blinking.

“Remus, you couldn’t have left him, if you’d just heard what he said.”

“Don’t you dare use me as a reason to lead order members into a useless battle,” Remus continued, his eyes flashing, “What did you think, I would just give you a hug?”

“No, but-“

“Just, never do that again.”

The room was silent, Marlene leaning on the door with bandages and a few different potions for pain relief.

“Well if it makes you feel any better, Fenrir was not looking good when we left him, Lily got in a few good curses,” Marlene winked at him, pushing the boys out of the way so that she could start bandaging Lily’s wound.

“Well the next time you do something stupid, try and kill him for me, alright?”

“Can do, Moony,” Lily grimaced as Marlene pressed the bandage tightly around her side to hold in the blood and beginning to silently cast spells across her skin to make the blood clot and skin to heal over.

James was sitting underneath her, his shirt pulled on backwards and hand wrapped around Lily’s almost as tightly as the bandage. His heart was pounding so hard he thought that he might be sick, but he wanted to stay calm for her.

“You’re an idiot,” He mumbled into her hair, pulling himself towards her.

He couldn’t stop his mind from racing over what could happened, how she could have been left on the ground, bleeding to death on the cold concrete, or if Fenrir had gotten to her first, tearing apart flesh and—

“Normally it’s me telling you that after a mission,” Lily gave him a smile, her eyes watering as Remus began to cover the wound with a salve.

“Lily, you know that I-“

“Of course, I do, you twat,”

“Until the very end.”

Taglist:  @blackpinkdolan @blushingskywalker @thebabblingbookworm   @cherrie511  @imlukesnirvana @avengersassemblee @maraudersandco  @sly-vixen-up2nogood   @katbernoulli     @sirius-lysad   @cherrie511   @siriuslyjanhvi   @evyiione  @minerva26love  @katbernoulli @your-typical-giggle

#rainandhotchocolate #jily #jily fluff #jily fanfiction #james potter #lily potter #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders imagine #jily imagine #fluff #hp war #marauders war

[blueeyesspitfire]

Relax

Almost every year, it seems like training slows down in December. Between Thanksgiving and New Years, various factors come into play that make it harder to run. In more "normal" times, it was usually the hustle and bustle of decorating, shopping, and gathering with friends that kept me off the trail. There were parties at work, parties with friends, parties with family. Of course, this year is significantly lacking in all that.

Even though December marks the true start of winter, it often arrives with crummy conditions. It has snowed a bit here and there, but not enough to safely use the sled yet. Big storms, meltdowns, and freezes have been the norm for late fall in the North Country, but the big snow dumps have eluded us so far. The ground is partially frozen and there's no base to set a snow hook.

I've been running the dogs with the ATV, which works better on small amounts of snow than the non-motorized carts. However, I have to avoid the muddy spots, otherwise I’ll create deep ruts with the heavy machine. I also can’t use the ATV on most of the state forest trails, so I’m eager for snow.

Holidays and weather aside, there’s another reason I've been struggling to get back on track. If you're not following my social media, you may have missed that Blitz had a seizure a few weeks ago. I'll paste what I shared on Facebook below to recap:

We had a scary day on the trail. We were wrapping up another 10 mile run when Blitz’s tug went slack and he started dipping his head. I thought he was sniffing the spot where we had passed by a couple walking dogs, but then he yanked on his neckline and put on the brakes. I stopped the ATV to see what was wrong, and he immediately started seizing. I’ve never dealt with a seizure before and BOY are they terrifying.

My immediate thought was hyperthermia (overheating), even though it was in the mid-30s and I was keeping them at a pretty slow pace for the return leg. I had also watered them at the five mile mark, and he wasn’t showing any other signs of heat related stress. I poured some water on him just in case, and he eventually came out of the seizure (felt like an eternity but was probably more like 20-30 seconds).

He was very weak immediately after the episode so I pulled him onto the ATV and tried to get the team moving, but the other dogs wouldn’t line out and were curious/distressed. So, I started carrying him the remaining 300ish feet of trail back to the truck but quickly realized that wasn’t the best plan. (He’s a big dog.) I laid him down, ran back to the ATV and the dogs finally figured out we had to keep moving forward. I scooped him up and got everybody back into the truck and shot over to North Country Veterinary Services, who had vets waiting for us upon arrival. (I’ve never loaded dogs/gear/ATV so fast before... although I did leave behind several water bottles and gloves on the trail)

Blitz perked up on the ride over and was able to walk inside the vet’s office on his own, where they ran blood work to determine exactly what happened. Turns out, his blood sugar was very low. They gave him a sugar boost and he immediately perked up.

We’ve been doing longer runs and today we started about an hour later than normal. I feed the team after their runs (to avoid bloating) but I now realize it was too long a gap after his meal last night.

The plan now is to rest for at least a week. He goes back to the vet next Thursday for a followup. Assuming it was just exertional hypoglycemia, I will rework their feeding schedule to three small meals (instead of two) during mushing season and snack him before/during runs. I’ll also have emergency Karo syrup ready if he (or any of them) have this issue again.

I’m not sure what this means for his “career” as a sled dog. I’m hoping he can remain on the team and continue training towards 20-30 milers, but I won’t take any chances with my boy.

Since then, Blitz has been totally fine. He had his follow-up appointment and his blood sugar levels were right on target. I experimented with their food regimen a bit, but ultimately decided to continue feeding two meals (morning and evening) and shifting runs to midday instead of in the early morning (when none of them are very eager to eat). This has worked so far, but I've only had time for short runs on the home trail during my lunch breaks. I need to get them back to the state trails and running longer distances. I prefer to train before work, when fewer people (and dogs) are around, so hopefully I can convince them to eat a bit beforehand. I might be able to swing some extra long lunch breaks, but there will always be a portion of the season where we have to run early (especially when temperatures are warmer). Just another thing to work out.

The vet said Blitz would be fine to run 10 milers again (as long as he has food before/snacks midway), but it's been a challenge to resume training. It took a full week before I could even get the harnesses out of my truck, so it's safe to say there's some lingering PTSD. The fear of another seizure has snowballed into a mountain of anxiety about every possible thing that could go wrong during a run. (And trust me, there’s plenty.)

So, sometimes, we don't run at all. Then the guilt creeps in—the feeling that I'm failing these dogs. I look at our training schedule and get depressed as our numbers plummet. I'm always telling myself, "Next season will be our season." But dogs age fast; each season feels so precious and fleeting. 

I know what you’re going to say and I am trying to cut myself some slack. Mushing has always been my release. I balanced it against work, travel, and friends. Now most of that equation is gone and I need to find joy instead of stress, whatever that looks like. The 2020-2021 race season isn't looking all that promising with the pandemic still raging. Races may still happen, but I'm unsure if I'll feel comfortable attending.

If there ever was a season to slow down and relax, this would be the one. Let’s hope I can figure out how.