#teacher sweating like haha yes it IS possible!

[worstloki]

very carefully explaining to the princes of asgard how recessive genes work and skirting around details because eye colour is the textbook example and one of them has green eyes when neither parent does. hair colour is the other example in the textbook but well one of them has black hair when neither parent did.

#teacher sweating like haha yes it IS possible! #(statistical prevalence is not in the syllabus unfortunately haha) #forget that they're aliens and could have reversed recessive/dominant patterns #teacher sweating even more as the only other example that comes to mind is the textbook example of hair #which is even WORSE because Odin and Frigga both have blonde hair. and Loki's is not blonde. #0% #but surely both parents are mages and that is some un-researched field and you shouldn't confuse two young boys with such nonsense talk #HAHAHA #HA.

[dialovers-translations]

Its okay to loose interest on something, especially since you’ve been inside the fandom for the longest i know, you are the very first blog I followed when i joined the fandom on tumblr, i really appreciate all of the years and hours and sweat you have put in the blog (especially since you also are the owner of one of the most known diabolik lovers oc!).

So i get it if you don’t feel as passionate as you felt before, anyway i just wanted to thank you for all of your work even though i know it will never be enough to compensate the amount of love you have put in your translations, making it possible for everyone to understand the characters more with all of the notes and personal thoughts about every single post and translation, including the organization of every game and cd drama, tweet and comic, month lists of what translations you would have done in the future, and most importantly, the constant uploads no matter how long and endless those translations seemed.

You are truly what i call a hero. And even if you won’t come back i will never complain about your “service” to this fandom<3

Farewell and good luck~

p.s. : kisses from Liz <<33

Thank you so much. ;w;

Honestly, this message made me tear up a little, haha.

This fandom is very dear to my heart and it wasn't easy for me to make the decision to go on an indefinite hiatus.

I just wanted to be honest with myself and I realized that translating was feeling like a chore rather than a fun activity.

While discovering a new interest in Genshin might play a part in it, I do think it is normal to experience this kind of burn out. So for now, taking a longer break is the best thing I can do. uwu

Perhaps people forget this sometimes, but I'm a working adult outside of Tumblr. I'm a full-time teacher, which is a very emotionally demanding and draining job.

So yes, sometimes I like to come home and just play a game like Genshin, instead of playing DL where I have to once again concentrate because I need to translate the content. ^^;;

[inochinoyomikata]

Inochi no Tabekata 2 ch 0-5 Translation

0-5 Otogiri Tobi– Knowledge of Zazen

“UUu…”

The backpack growled.

“I’m hungry…”

So, shut up.

Tobi Otogiri wanted to kick Baku away. But it would be weird if he suddenly did that in the morning class. He held back his tongue in his cheek and sighed. When he looked to his right for some reason, Ryuuko Shiratama was looking at him from a seat on the hall side. Her brows were furrowed and his lips were puckered. She seemed very worried.

“O-Ryuu.”

Baku complained in a pathetic voice.

“Help me, let me eat something.”

Ryuuko whispered “Something…” and held her head. He tried to warn that if any seats were close, she’d be speaking aloud. Ryuuko wasn’t at fault though. The culprit was Baku. Get mad, really. Baku was not the kind to flinch when Tobi showed a frightened look. He was at a loss.

When he was at a loss, a chime rang. The classroom door opened.

He thought it was the second year, third class teacher, Harimoto-sensei, whose trademark was a red jersey and hair that stood on end like a hedgehog, that entered the classroom— But he was wrong. 

A number of students said “Huh?” Tobi didn’t make a sound, but he was stunned. It was not Harimoto-sensei. Judging from her age, she was not even a teacher.

She was a girl. She was not wearing a uniform. Was she not a junior high student? Her hair was also quickly dried. It was like she tried to sleep but stayed awake. She was wearing headphones around her neck. He was a little worried about the letters printed on the shirt she was wearing. It read “THA ZEN.”

“Za Zen…?

Ryuuko muttered. He had just read it aloud without saying anything out loud. Well, it seemed his thoughts were in sync with Ryuuko’s. He was slightly embarrassed.

Suddenly, the girl glanced at Ryuuko with sleepy eyes. For a moment she just looked. The woman walked over to the teacher’s desk, where she stopped and looked around the classroom.

She met Tobi’s eyes.

Suddenly, the girl’s eyebrow and her mouth twitched. What kind of expression was that? Maybe she knew about Tobi. Why did Tobi come up with such an idea? Either way, Tobi didn’t know her. He didn’t recognize her at all.

The Za Zen girl took chalk and went to the chalkboard.

“Asahi Monika.”

---

The writing was quite vigorous.

“The reading is Asahi, Monika.”

Suddenly, the girl put down her chalk and turned around again.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Wait, Asahi-san…!”

It was at that moment that Harii in the red jersey, aka Harimoto, rushed into the classroom.

“You suddenly disappeared and I wondered where you went…!”

“Aah–”

Asahi Monika scratched her head.

“Somehow the sequence of the transfer student introducing themself before the teacher doesn’t seem so good. I wonder what will happen.”

“It-It's a good thing, sensei, to be curious…”

He seemed to have been in a great hurry, and Harimoto sensei was sweating profusely.

“Try it, this air.”

Asahi shrugged her shoulders and laughed “haha” without laughing.

“Could it be that I slipped away? Me?”

“...Is that the problem?”

Baku said. The same went for Tobi. Asahi twisted her neck with a “mu,” but it was not at the dimension that she was funny or able to slip away. The second year, third grade students were simply surprised and bewildered.

“Well, anyway, that’s why. Suddenly…!”

Harimoto cleared his throat and walked over to Asahi.

“From today, she’s going to study with everyone, Asahi Monika-san. Because of her parents’ circumstances, she was suddenly decided, so her uniform wasn’t ready yet…”

“Sensei.”

Asahi raised her right hand below her shoulder. It was a pretty energy efficient raise.

“Hm, what is it?”

“Where is my seat?”

“Oh? That’s right, yes, you need a seat, a seat…”

“There are some vacancies.”

Originally, there were thirty-six students enrolled in class 2-3. Asahi pointed to four empty seats one after another. She was also rough with the way she pointed. She wanted to use her physical strength as little as possible. Such an atmosphere was drifting from end to end.

“Are there many people off today?”

“....Ah, no… that’s….”

Harimoto stuttered and his eyes watered. The classroom was silent.

Lots of absences. That’s right. She wasn’t wrong.

One of the seats in the last row was for Shizukudani Rukana, who didn’t show up in the classroom because she was attending in the infirmary, so she wasn’t absent. But the seat at the very back by the window was Takatomo Miyuki, who was in the hospital. She still hadn’t regained consciousness. There was an empty seat in the front row. Chiami Kon was resting at her home. Masamune, aka Masaki Shuuji, also was not in any condition to come to school any time soon. Naturally, he was absent.

There were a lot of things, and when you look back, everyone would have their own thoughts.

Tobi also had mixed feelings.

Kon and Masamune’s zingai were involved in the series of events that occurred in Class 2-3. And then, none other than Baku ate Kon and Masamune’s zingai.

“I’d like the back.”

Asahi licked her chin and pointed in the distance. Did she get tired of pointing?

“Backmost, you can see everything.”

“...One student was injured and is in the hospital… The other student was going to school in the infirmary.”

Harimoto explained as though it was difficult to say.

“The other two seats where there’s no one are out sick. First I’ll need to prepare a desk and chair for Asahi. I can’t do it. I’ll ask Haizaki-san immediately—”

Asahi glanced at the classroom door and said “well.” As if to say “come on.”

“Please do so.”

“Yeah, that’s right...”

“I’m standing.”

“It looks like it’s best to hurry...”

“If you could do that.”

“W-wait. I’m sorry, Asahi.”

“If you want, you can add ‘san,’ Harimoto-sensei.”

“U-understood, Asahi-san.”

Harimoto hurried out of the classroom.

Voices saying things such as “scary…” and “oh wow…” raised at the same time from all over the place, and although the noise grew louder than smaller, it didn’t seem to disappear. 

Asahi folded her arms and looked around vaguely, bending her neck lazily from side to side. Did she care about anything? She seemed to be quite on her nerves.

“Well…”

Baku laughed, “Heheh.”

“Hey, she transferred from another school, didn’t she?”

Was this a coincidence?

Asahi turned her eyes and moved one of her eyebrows and the corner of her lip. She even seemed to be grinning.

She might happen to be. But Baku had spoken. It was right after that.

#inochi no tabekata #inochi no tabekata translation #e ve

[mizunetzu]

Can you do a scenario where reader (male pronouns) kind of outs himself as bi and then hides for a while since it was an accident and he wasn't actually ready and after some time bakugo finds him and they end up awkwardly confessing to each other? Bonus points if you can do ComfortingTM class 1A (also I just really want bi representation 🥺)

BRO BRO ur reblogs and replies always make me BAM BAM

(Also y’all ik that gif is huge but it had denki AND baku in it and i felt compelled to use it bc kamis kinda important in the story NSNDNEKWK)

——————

Bakugou x reader - How to Out Your Classmate

⚠️warnings - being outed by your classmate (denki) (I’m sorry denki stans), bakugou kinda bulling kami at the end kdnfjekfj

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

It was something he didn’t mean to say.

Rather, it just slipped out.

—���——

“Ne, (L/n)-kun, don’t you think Yao-momos hair is kinda sexy today? Her hair down plus that hair clip is FIRE dude!”

Kaminari slung a arm around (Y/n’s) shoulder, while Mineta smugly grinned from his seat. He wiped away a line of drool dripping from his mouth.

“Oh oh oh, her hair falls over her boobs so perfectly! I just wanna touch them at least once, ehuheuheu...”

Sero sighed from his seat. “Dude. You really are a scumbag. Stop that.”

Mineta, not missing a beat, turned to Sero with a shit-eating grin. “Oh? Why’s that? Are you gay or something?”

(Y/n) visibly stiffened from under Kaminari’s grasp. Kaminari however, didn’t notice and played along into Mineta’s joke.

“Yeah dude, kinda sus. Don’t go perving on me in the locker rooms now, haha!”

Sero sighed once more, this time with a playful smile. “Shut up, your probably more sus than I am-“

He was cut off when (Y/n) started wriggling out from under Kaminari’s arm. The three looked at (Y/n) quizzically, while (Y/n) awkwardly coughed. “I’m...leaving.”

“Why? What happened?” Kaminari leaned on the back of Seros desk.

“Well-you guys are...loud and I’m going to my desk.” Even the dumbest person could tell how tense (Y/n) was. Though, Kaminari was as dumb as he was oblivious. He scoffed, but it sounded more like a chuckle.

“What? I don’t get it, man. We were teasing Sero, not you.” Kaminari’s teasing tone felt like heaters blasting full power through (Y/n’s) body. It was strange. You always felt kind of hot when you get a little flustered. “So what part of what we said bothered you?”

“N-nothing!” (Y/n) cursed at the way he raised his voice, cursing even more at his small stutter.

“Then why are you panties in such a twist? I’m just making fun of Sero bein’ sus.”

“W-well how fun! Move, class is starting.” Truth be told, class didn’t start until 10 minutes later. When (Y/n) tried to subtly push past Kaminari, he grabbed him by the arms and blocked his way out. “No way I’m moving! You’re mad for some reason, and I just wanna know why!”

“So what exactly did we do?”

Sero rested his chin on his palm. “Yeah if you can tell us we can stop doing it, (L/n)-kun. I gotta agree with Kami on this one.”

An irk mark appeared as (Y/n’s) face flushed a darker shade of pink. Not in the good way though. He struggled helplessly in Kaminari’s stronghold, before tching and looking away.

“There’s nothing more to say-! You’re just-starting to get on my nerves and I wanna leave-!”

“Really? That’s it?” Kaminari looked at (Y/n) skeptically, before his face lit up. “Oh wait!”

“You started getting all pissy when we were talking about Yaoyorozu...and you also got mad the other day when she was talking about Bakugou...”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“..So you like Yao-“

“I don’t fucking like Yaoyorozu!”

Now Kaminari was starting to get antsy. “Then what! Why are you mad! Is it because Mineta and I were ‘perving’?!”

“I’m not fuckin’ mad about you drooling over Yao-momos boobs! I’m not mad at all!”

Students started to gather once Kaminari and (Y/n) started to raise their voices higher and higher. Kaminari’s grip on (Y/n) was long gone, though (Y/n) was too upset to notice.

“If you weren’t mad about that, you were obviously mad about that time Yao-Momo talking about how Bakugou was attractive. So what? Do you like Bakugou or something? Are you gay?”

(Y/n) paled and grit his teeth. He was full on yelling now. “Stop saying that, damnit! I don’t like boys! Y-you know that!”

Kaminari gasped comically. “Oh my god! You totally avoided my question, dude!”

“What?!”

“Yeah! Now I get it! That’s what’s bothering you so much! It all makes sense!”

Kaminari’s mad expression morphed into one that you make when you solve a difficult question. It felt like all the blood in (y/n’s) face was drained, yet all the blood rushing to his cheeks burned like fire. Sero stood up from his chair and placed a hand on Kaminari’s shoulder. “Dude, uh-I think that’s enou-“

“Your confused because you’re straight but now you’ve started to like a guy, right?! Bakugou, right?!”

Seros warning went over Kaminari’s head completely. (Y/n) dug his nails into his palm while Kaminari pried into (Y/n’s) mind with his eyes.

“I’m not confused! I’m pissed. Very, very pissed at you!”

The blond haired boy slammed his arms down on Seros table and leaned in uncomfortably close. (Y/n) wanted to step back, but if he did, he’d run straight into Sero.

“Ok. If you answer this compleeeetely honestly, I’ll let you go. Swear! And we’ll never talk about this again! Just say yes or no! Nothing else!”

Sero glanced around the room. Everyone was staring, some had their hands over their mouths, and some were whispering and asking what was going on. Sero nervously tugged on the fabric of (Y/n’s) blazer. “U-um...yo... (y/n)...Kamin-“

“Do you like Bakugou?”

“I-“

“And don’t say you don’t like boys or you’re not gay, we ‘know’ that!”

“I’m-“

“Just say yes or no!”

“N-“

“Are you ga-“

“I’M BI!” (Y/n’s) sudden outburst silenced the classroom. It was like a blow from a king to shut up the commoners. “I’M BI, SO SHUT UP! ARE YOU HAPPY?! I’M NOT GAY AND I DON’T LIKE BAKUGOU! I DONT! I-I DONT. I don’t. I...”

Stagnant air flooded the 1-A classroom. Almost immediately, (Y/n) slapped both his hands over his mouth, eyes blown wide. Kaminari awkwardly chuckled. “Uh...”

(Y/n) took a tentative step back, bumping straight into Sero. He reflexively grabbed onto (y/n’s) forearms, stabling him.

“Are you oka-“

“Don’t touch me!” (Y/n) pushed off of Seros body and stumbled over a desk. He crashed onto the ground and fumbled onto his bottom. Students upon students neared towards him, all their face and voice blending together into one big, muddy pile. Their voices eventually turned into ringing, louder and louder until-

“SHUT UP!” (Y/n) rose to his wobbly legs, half running and half crawling towards the door as fast as he could. He could hear the protestant shouts of his classmates, or even the sleepily confused expression of his teacher as as flew by him in the hallway.

He guessed he was skipping class that day.

————

40 missed calls from: Mina-San domoo-!!

125 unopened texts from: Mina-San domoo-!!

23 missed calls from: Kamiii ⚡️

45 unopened texts from: Kamiii ⚡️

12 unopened texts from: Iida Tenya.

5 unopened texts from: ura-chaaaan 💖

1 unopened text from: Bakugou

(Y/n) turned off his phone. He knew if he kept it on, Mina would keep spamming his phone with text messages.

It’s been about a few days since his whole freak out happened. He’d bolt out of class the second it was dismissed, and he kept himself either locked in his room, or out of the dorms as much as humanly possible. He wasn’t ready to have that conversation yet.

His phone buzzed again. He sighed, half expecting it to be another spam text from Mina. What he didn’t expect, was to see Bakugous contact photo on his screen, with the big green words “Incoming call-Bakugou” blaring at him so intimidatingly.

Something made him want to answer.

He pressed the phone to his ear.

“Oi.”

Bakugous gruff voice sent chills down the boys spine. His voice seemed to lock itself inside his throat, refusing to come out his mouth.

“Say something, dumbass.” Oh boy, was he trying. Everytime he opened his mouth, his throat closed up and refused to open again. Bakugou sighed harshly through the speaker.

“Stop being stupid and avoiding us-“ (Y/n) absentmindedly pressed the red “end” button. If Kaminari or Kirishima or whatever convinced Bakugou, to convince HIM to stop avoiding them, just because he ‘liked’ him, (and he totally did), he’d rather not hear it.

(Y/n) went to crumple up a piece of paper he was scribbling on, and drop it into the trash can, when it bounced on top and rolled away pathetically near his feet. His trash can was overflowing. Well, it was expected, since he was deliberately missing out on trash days just so he didn’t have to leave his dorm. (Y/n) swiped up the piece of paper, along with the trash bag lining the bin.

A few seconds outside couldn’t hurt. No one will see him. He’ll just...throw the bag in the dumpster, and slink back in before anyone knows he’s there.

————

(Y/n) hauled the trash bag into the dumpster, throwing it from out over his shoulder. He dusted off his hands and wiped forming sweat off his brow. The trash was out, no one saw him, all he had to do was slip back in his room before anyone sees him.

He huffed and turned around, immediately being smacked by a spiky tuft of blond hair. All the color drained from (Y/n’s) face. Bakugou turned his head and spat onto the dirt, clicking his tongue in the process.

“Figured you’d be here.”

”...there’s no way you could’ve-“

“It takes about a couple days for a small trash can to fill up. And knowing you, shit-for-brains, would come and take it out when no one was really watching. 5 pm, when everyone’s getting ready for dinner. You really do have shit-for-brains, shittyass.”

Bakugou may seem like a meathead, but the times he showed he was observant and intelligent made his heart tie knots around itself. (Y/n) bit back a stutter and a blush.

“W...ell, how-how’d you know I was going to take it out today? A-and to this dumpster, instead of the one on the other side of the dorms?”

Bakugou scoffed loudly, stalking closer to him. (Y/n) gulped. “This ones closer to your dorm room, even I know that, loser.”

Bakugous voice dipped, suddenly becoming uncharacteristically quiet. “...and I’ve been coming here everyday at 5 pm...shittyass...”

Bakugou was really dedicated to his scheme, huh. Just so he could see him? (Y/n)? He should be the LAST person Bakugou would want to see. Especially with what Kaminari was blabbering about. Still...It made (Y/n) feel a bit special.

But knowing Bakugou, he was just probably here to tell him how disgusting he was. Maybe he’ll start calling him ‘dick-for-brains’ instead of ‘shit for brains’. Or just plain on ‘fag’.

“Oi-stop spacing out and fucking listen to me! And don’t you dare run away until you hear me the fuck out!”

Bakugous palms flashed white, generating small blasts and he pointed an agitated finger at (Y/n). He stepped back reflexively.

“Um...well...what did you want then?” (Y/n) awkwardly fumbled with his hands behind his back, trying to keep still as much as he could. He wanted to disappear.

“Is it true?”

(Y/n) looked up. Bakugou was staring dead on, with his hands shoved stiffly in his pockets and sporting the faintest blush on his face. It was so unnoticeable, you could blink and miss it. That, and the trademark scowl, you could hardly tell if his face was red because of anger or something else.

“What is?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, fuckass! Do you like me or not?!”

(Y/n) opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Bakugou grunted and stepped closer. “Answer me!”

“S-so what if I do-?! You gonna call me a fag?!” (Y/n) was sweating bullets. He hoped Bakugou wouldn’t see how utterly nervous he was. Fake it til you make it. Though, he doesn’t know what he’d do once Bakugou goes flames blazin’ on his ass. He could all ready see his reaction-

Bakugou smirked. “Knew it.”

Knew it? (Y/n’s) nerves temporarily fizzled down, a wave of confusion washing over him. “...What?”

“God, do you need me to spell everything out for you? It was obvious. To me at least. Everyone was probably too fuckin’ dumb to notice.”

(Y/n) fell silent. He could speak if he wanted to, his throat wasn’t closing up, but he chose to keep silent. It’s not like he knew what to say, anyways. He was stunned into submission.

“-so I was right. Now, go out with me, Bitch.”

“Thanks. But I’ll pass.”

“I-“ Bakugou made a sputtering noise. (Y/n) wasn’t sure if he was caught off guard or sputtered out of sheer anger. “What?! Why the fuck not?!”

“Dude, how do I know you aren’t like, I dunno, being bribed by Kaminari or something to try and ‘prove that I’m bi’? Or that your just mocking me?”

“Idiot! Why the fuck would you think I’d listen to a dumbass like dunce face?! I fucking like you, you like me, I don’t see the problem here!”

(Y/n) knew he wasn’t lying. Bakugou was many things, a shithead, a piece of angry trash, but he wasn’t a liar. Still, he sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Dude, as much as I’d love to go out with you, there’s too much cons to it. I mean-first off, I don’t want people calling you a fag or anything because you’re with me...second, I’m...scared of how the class’ll take it, especially for someone like you-“

“Eh?! What’s that supposed to mean?! Are you fucki-“

(Y/n) pushed past him, accidentally brushing his shoulder in the process.

“...And third, even if I’m too scared how the class would react, I’m too prideful to let Kaminari ‘predictions’ win.”

He was gone before Bakugou could turn around.

————

(Y/n) was late to class on purpose that day.

He didn’t want to risk it with Bakugou, Kaminari, anyone. He’s more afraid of the class than he is of getting scolded by Aizawa. And that was saying something.

So when he walked in the door, Bakugou gripping Kaminari’s tie and releasing small blasts in the air with his wound up hand, he didn’t know if he should replace ‘Getting Scolded By Aizawa’ with ‘Getting Murdered By Bakugou’ in his worries for today.

“Fucking idiot!” Bakugou growled, spit flying onto Kaminari’s face as he set off another blast. It was small enough not to cause damage to any desks or chairs around them, but it was close enough to Kaminari’s face to make him yelp. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Ow!” Kaminari half yelled-half whimpered. Bakugou’s hands heated up, glowing orange from under Kaminari’s chin. “Hey-HEY! Chill-!W-what did I even do?! OW!”

Bakugou slammed him against his desk by his blazer. “It’s your fuckin fault that shit-for-brains won’t go out with me!”

Another blast. This time, fired in the air but much bigger than before. Kaminari flinched. “Ah! S-shit-for...(L/n)?! How is it my fault?!”

“It’s your fault because you made him all scared and shit to go out with me! With your stupid prying ass! Now he won’t go out with me until I get you to apologize! So apologize so I can have a fuckin boyfriend! Go die!”

(Y/n) looked around the room. No one was trying to stop Bakugou from literally roasting Kaminari alive. Not even Iida. Everyone stood there, eyes locked on Kaminari or recording them while stifling snickers. (Y/n) walked up to Mina, who was recording and whispering commentary near the speaker.

“Uh...what’s happening? Why’s no one stopping Bakugou?”

Mine looked up. “Well-he kinda deserved it. I mean, he did act like a dick to you a few days ago. Bakugou’s just givin’ him a piece of his mind.” She fixed her angle on her phone, hunching down slightly in the process. “Also, glad to see you talking to us again, (L/n)~”

(Y/n) glances around the room once more. Everyone seemed to silently agree. Though, Iida looked like he was going to explode in his seat. Poor Iida. Poor Kaminari.

(Y/n) was brought out of his mind when Mina slowly panned her phone over to him. He was about to question her, when Kaminari was thrown carelessly at his feet. Bakugou kicked at Kaminari’s hunched figure, stepping on his back with his hands clenched in his pockets.

“Say it.”

Kaminari made a wheezing noise.

“FUCKIN’ SAY IT!”

“I-I’m sorry for outing you in-in front of our classmates...”

Bakugou dug his foot into Kaminari’s back. “LOUDER!”

“I’M SORRY-OW! FOR O-OUTING YOU IN FRONT OF OUR CLASSMATES-!”

Bakugou gave Kaminari a look saying to ‘keep going.’ Kaminari shot back with a face that said ‘dude. What you want me to say is fucking stupid.’

Bakugou snarled and fired another mini explosion into the air. Kaminari squeaked and looked up at (y/n), who had the most confused look on his face. Kaminari sighed.

“And...totally I don’t think that you and Bakugou are gonna get together...totally unexpected...”

Kaminari, even if he was about to be best to a pulp, couldn’t help the snicker from leaving his mouth. Bakugou, you dumb fuck. He was probably thinking back to the time (Y/n) said ‘I’m too prideful to let Kaminari ‘predictions’ win’. Even so, that was just dumb. Even for Bakugou.

Bakugou huffed contently, while Kaminari shakily pulled himself up. Bakugou thunked him on the head again. “There. Now you have no fuckin’ reason not to be my boyfriend. If you don’t I’ll kill you.”

(Y/n) hummed out of hesitation. “Ehhhh...but...”

“We allowed Bakugou to rough up Kaminari, which is a CLEAR violation of the rules, the least you could do is say yes, (y/n)-kun! Though I do believe Bakugou should be punished for his harsh actions.”

Iida jutted out from his seat, swinging his arm in the air. Everyone stayed silent for a second, until Tsuyu stepped forward. “I agree with Iida-Chan, kero. You two would look nice together.”

One by one, the class started saying how ‘cute’ they’d be together or that they didn’t care that (y/n) was Bi, much. It was different from when the class was clamoring around him, instead of all their voice blending together in one big ring, he could hear every single persons song of praise. He supposed it was alright. It wouldn’t hurt as much as he think it would.

(Y/n) sucked in a breath, and turned his head to Bakugou. He looked at (Y/n) almost expectantly.

“...fine....you win...you better take care of me, Bakugou.”

He turned his head and scoffed. “Idiot. I was gonna do that regardless.”

Mina started clapping and wolf whistling. Eventually, everyone started to clap and ‘aww’ed, before quickly rushing to their seats once they heard groggy footsteps approach the door.

A man with shaggy hair walked in. The class sat silent, staring at Aizawa. He sniffed and trailed his eyes around the room.

Setting his sleeping bag behind his podium, he pursed his lips. “Where is Kaminari?”

“W-whey...”

Kaminari was laying on the floor next to (y/n’s) seat, smiling dumbly with burn marks. He was pumping his fists with his thumbs sticking out. Everyone broke into a cold sweat.

“Would anyone like to tell me why Kaminari is out of his seat?”

Oh fuck.

Bakugou got 3 days house arrest.

——————

Jdjdjejejc this was real fun to write HAHAHAHA I’m lowkey proud of it

#bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #mha x male reader #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x male reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou imagine #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #class 1 a x reader #x male reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

[mammoneymelon]

How the brothers would react to finding out that MC is autistic

before anyone says anything, i’m autistic and just really want some representation

TW for ableism! the boys are doing their best but no NT immediately knows everything about autism

it’s a bit random, but i headcanon that lucifer has misophonia, so it’s only a matter of time before a noisy/verbal stim starts to drive him up a wall

“what in the devildom are you doing?” he’d ask, eyebrows scrunched in frustration

you have no idea what he’s talking about; after all, you’ve just been sitting on your DDD playing some rhythm game

“what do you mean?”

“you’ve been making that noise for hours; cut it out before i have to go find the packing tape.”

you know him well enough to know he isn’t joking, so you nod and do your best to stop, ignoring the feeling of dread beginning to well up in your chest

you go back to your game, and soon enough, you’re back to ‘making that noise’

you see lucifer stand up, bringing your action to your attention.

“oh, sorry! i didn’t realize i was doing it again, sorry!”

“oh?” he asked, looking down at you. 

“it’s stimming. autistic people do it a lot more than others, and sometimes we don’t even notice it.” there’s a moment of silence but you realize you just told him something you hadn’t even told your human friends

“ah, yes, i do remember reading about that in your file. i didn’t want to say anything so as not to offend you.”

you shake your head. “dude! that’s personal business! i don’t like telling people.”

lucifer’s gaze seems to soften. “don’t fret, MC. i won’t tell a soul.”

and he doesn’t.

he also totally buys you quiet stim toys

it’s not long before mammon realizes you are terrible at reading the room

you have a terrible habit of cracking a joke at the worst time or saying the first thing that comes to your mind, even if it was at the expense of others

at first, mammon, mammon thought you were really brave. now, however, he sees that you just have no idea what you’re doing

currently, your knack for trouble had landed you in detention, something you’d gotten fairly used to in the human world. mammon was sitting next to you - he was paying for trying to defend you

“lucifer’s going to kill us. again.”

“and whose fault is that?”

“sorry,” you mumble. “it’s not like i was trying to get us here.”

“really? because it’s startin’ to seem like you are. not that i blame ya, if i were you i’d do anything to spend more time with the great mammon.” he gives you a smile, and you really hope that means he isn’t mad

“i really don’t like upsetting people, i just don’t really get tone? i didn’t even realize the teacher was mad until you stepped in. “

“dude, she was on the verge of killing ya! what do ya mean you “didn’t even realize”?

you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. “it’s part of a disorder i have. autism. i just don’t get some stuff that comes naturally to other people.”

“ohhh.” mammon slaps his head, feeling like an idiot. “sorry,” he murmurs, and you barely hear it

mammon, being, well, mammon, will probably forget.

it’s not that he doesn’t care! it’s just not something that comes up in conversation.

of course, when the two of you do talk about it, he picks up on the symptoms pretty quickly. he’s a pretty smart guy, and he’ll do anything and everything for his human

the two of you are working on a co-op dungeon while you talk about your current special interest

“wow, MC, you know a lot about this!”

“thanks,” you respond, and it hits you - you’ve been infodumping almost this whole time

“haha, yeah, blame it on the autism brain,” you joke absentmindedly, not really caring if he knew. you two were good friends, why would being neurodivergent make a difference?

levi, on the other hand, does a double take. being the gamer he is, he’d definitely heard the word used as an insult, but he’d never thought about anyone actually having autism - much less his best friend

“MC, you have autism?” he turns to you looking genuinely confused, his controller sitting, forgotten, in his lap

“um, yeah? it’s not really a big deal,” you say, shrugging

“yeah it is! i mean i knew you were pretty weird, since you hang out with me-” he stops mid-sentence, realizing his mistake. “NOT IN A BAD WAY, OF COURSE! ah sorry, i said something stupid, like always.”

you shake your head with a small smile. you can tell he’s trying. “trust me, i’ve heard much worse. you’re fine, levi.”

he glances up at you, face red from embarrassment, and your smile widens. “i mean, i don’t think like ‘normal’ people anyway, so yeah, i kinda am weird.”

once you leave his room, he’s at his pc, researching more vigorously that he’s ever done for a class

the more he learns, the more annoyed he gets at the complete misunderstanding of the disorder

ultimately, he just wants to make sure you feel supported and understood

you’re sitting in the library, doing your homework while satan looks over your essay, checking for errors

“oi, MC”

“what’s up?” you respond, still focused on your work

“are you scared of me?”

this prompts you to look up, focusing your eyes on his hands

“i was when i first came here, and i definitely would be scared if i really pissed you off, but no, i’m not scared of you. why do you ask?”

“you never look me in the eyes. or my brothers, actually.”

oh. you’d been hoping no one had noticed. “oh, i just don’t like eye contact. it makes me uncomfortable.” you return your eyes to your paper, hoping that was enough.

“how so?” 

so it wasn’t enough.

“i’m autistic, genius. i figured it was obvious by now.”

“oh. that makes sense.” that’s all he says, so you try to return your focus to your homework.

satan is probably the most comfortable talking to you about it. he’ll ask you questions about your personal experiences and make an effort to understand you better

one day you look over his shoulder to find him reading an article on masking on his DDD

he cares deeply for you, even if it’s hard for him to say so

asmo has wrangled you into yet another shopping trip

“MC, look at this!! you have to try it on!”

one look at the article of clothing and your face is already scrunching up

“absolutely not.”

“awe, why not?” he gives you the biggest puppy eyes and you sigh. he knows your weaknesses.

“the material. i hate it.”

“but it would look so good on you~”

clearly, he’s not going to give up unless you explain yourself to him

“sure, for a couple seconds, until i have a complete meltdown,” you remark. “i’m autistic, so some textures just make me feel really bad.”

his mouth makes an ‘o’ shape, and then he goes back to looking confused. “i hadn’t even thought about that as a possibility! you should’ve said something earlier!”

he feels really bad about all the times he’s touched you without warning. he thought your shock was cute (and he still does), but he knows that autistic people sometimes dislike touch - he’s definitely had at least a couple autistic ‘partners’ in the past

he’s quite the observant demon, quickly picking up on sensations you d and don’t like. if you’re bothered by smells, he does his best to lay off on the perfume - granted, it’s a necessary part of his routine that he absolutely cannot give up completely. he lets you play with the dimmer in his room so you can find the amount of light that works best.

occasionally, he’ll have to tell you that he’s trying his absolute best to flirt and you are giving him nothing. you’re just like “oh shit i didn’t realize”

asmo’s just a sweetheart who wants you to be comfortable

beel unfortunately has to learn about your autism because of a situation out of your control

you’re in the gym, keeping him company while he works out

you’re searching his bag and you realize you don’t have your headphones

oh fuck.

you always bring your headphones to the gym; the sounds of televisions, music, people talking, weights clinking, treadmills rumbling... it’s too much

not to mention the stench of sweat and the florescent lights - truly an autistic person’s nightmare

you squeeze you eyes shut, but that only makes the noise worse. you’re surrounded by noise and you can’t stop it. it occurs to you that you’re no longer breathing properly but it’s just too loud and you’re so small

“MC?” beel’s voice is soft and filled with obvious concern. you open your eyes, seeing him kneeling in front of you. your eyes sting, and you realize you’re tearing up. “MC, are you alright?” 

all you can do is shake your head

“do you want to go home?” you nod, biting your lip as he stands up, making you feel even smaller.

he quickly packs his things into his bag and offers you a hand, helping you get up

he quickly escorts you outside, where you practically gulp for air. 

he waits patiently with you while you slowly ground yourself. 

“okay, let’s go home.” you explain sensory overload as you walk, then tell him about your autism

beel, like asmo, is very observant and he learns surprisingly fast. 

he’s also very protective of you. if someone triggers you, he won’t hesitate to tell them off before doing a grounding exercise with you

he’s basically you’re giant therapy demon and you love him for it

it’s becoming way too much. you’ve been masking heavily for months, monitoring your every move while doing your absolute best to thrive in a (literally) completely different universe than what you’re used to

you’re laying facedown on the couch, practically unable to move. you want to go to your room, but your body won’t let you

“mc?” you hear belphegor’s voice. “are you trying to imitate me?” he teases

you simply groan in response, not wanting to bother

for a moment he goes silent. then, you feel a hand on your shoulder

you jolt up, swiping his hand away as you let out a small shout. belphie’s eyes are widened in surprise

“don’t touch me! ...please,” you add as an afterthought, feeling bad for scaring him

he sits with you on the couch, taking care to leave space between the two of you. “what’s wrong?” you don’t respond. “mc?”

“burnout. too much. feel bad.”

belphie has absolutely no clue what that means, but he figures he knows something that might help.

“want to take a nap with me?”

you have to think about it before responding with a “sure” and slowly crawling into his arms (if that’s something you’re okay with)

it’s night when the two of you wake up. you still feel awful, but you can at least cope better.

once belphie’s more awake, he asks you what the hell happened

“two words: autistic shutdown”

“that doesn’t explain anything” - belphie really doesn’t know anything about humans

you do your best to explain - you were born with a brain that works a bit differently than most humans. some of the symptoms are an aversion to change and ‘odd’ behavior that’s difficult to hide. when you get too stressed, you just kinda ‘shut down’

he takes a bit to really understand, but once he does, he does his best to support you.

he falls asleep to your infodumping and you find it endearing

he gets good at recognizing when you’re starting to shut down and he always convinces you to take a break via a cuddly nap

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #autistic reader #tw ableism #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphie x reader

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 5

@pocketramblr :3

The day started off well. Really, it did. Izuku got up on time, still filled with warm fuzziness from the time he spent with his friends (friends!) the afternoon before, had a good breakfast, left early enough to catch an earlier train, saw an interesting hero fight, and then...

He was hit with a wave of nausea as he caught sight of the crowd outside UA's gates. Was it a mob? An attack? Terrorists?

... Reporters?

Yeah, those were cameras and microphones. But why was a crowd of reporters making him feel this way?

Maybe they were terrorists disguised as reporters. Or, maybe Izuku had picked up some paranoia to go with his anxiety. How fun.

If they were real reporters, they were probably here about All Might. Him cutting back on active hero work to teach had been big news.

Ughhhh. What should he do? Whoever they were, they weren't likely to leave. He didn't want to walk through them, though. What if they were dangerous? (And even if they weren't, he didn't want reporters looking at him, asking him questions. What would he say to them?)

He bit his lip and watched the crowd from around his chosen corner. Why did he have to be so wimpy and timid? He was a hero student, now. He should be better. Braver.

Oh! There was Iida!

He scuttled over to his friend.

"Ah! Midoriya! You're early today! Few people arrive at school at the same time I do!"

"Y-yeah! I managed to catch the earlier train today, so..." He looked back at the crowd of reporters. Maybe reporters. Maybe terrorists. "I think, maybe we should wait to go in as a group, though. I mean, it'll be more efficient than trying to fight through those reporters one at a time, right?"

"An excellent idea, Midoriya!" exclaimed Iida, waving his hands enthusiastically. "It's very admirable of you, to always be thinking about how to help others."

"W-well," said Izuku, blushing. It wasn't untrue, but it also wasn't the whole story. "I mean, I don't... It's more that they kind of freak me out a bit? The reporters..."

Iida nodded sagely. "There are heroes like that, too. Are you planning on going underground, then?"

There was a certain amount of appeal to underground heroics, but he was supposed to be All Might's successor. Then again, if One for All never worked properly for him and Mr. Yagi asked for it back... Quirk or not, Izuku was here, now, in UA, in the hero course, and Mr. Yagi had said he could be a hero without a quirk.

"I haven't really decided yet. But UA teaches all hero course students the three main branches of heroics, so we don't really have to choose a specialty until later, and even then there are heroes like Sir Nighteye who blur the lines, right?"

"Yes, it's one of the things that make UA such a superior institution!" chortled Monoma.

"Ah, Monoma! I agree! It is important for all heroes to be aware of the work their colleagues do, and to be well-rounded individuals!"

Monoma!?

"Um," said Izuku. "When did you get here?"

"Just a minute ago," said Monoma. "I was looking for a way around these savages when I overheard your conversation. Really, it's a shame that UA allows such rabble to prevent students from entering. If only there was something they could do..."

"I'm afraid I must disagree," said Iida. "Freedom of the press is exceedingly important for the function of society!"

Monoma looked slightly alarmed. "I don't mean to say it isn't, it's just-" he gestured at the gates, "-we can't get in. The other entrances are like this, too. It's aggravating."

"There... might be another way in," said Iida, after a moment.

"Oh?"

"Yes, my brother told me about a hidden entrance that was here when he attended UA. I suppose... I suppose these would be the right circumstances to use it."

"Lead the way, then, Iida," said Monoma.

Iida nodded stiffly. "We should wait and see if any of our classmates would like to come with us."

Several of their classmates did want to come with them, including Uraraka, Asui (who was still a little under the weather), Tokoyami (Dark Shadow was not a fan of flashing lights), and Hagakure. They were also joined by a couple of 1-B students, a cadre of business course kids, and a pink haired support course girl who seemed very interested in Iida's legs, much to his flustered confusion.

Kacchan did not join them, much to Izuku's dismay, instead choosing to bulldoze his way through the ranks of reporters, nearly giving Izuku a heart attack when he body-checked a man with blue-white hair.

At this point, their group was becoming rather large and noticeable, and Iida was getting antsy about the time, so off they went.

Iida led them to what appeared to be an entirely unnoteworthy piece of wall and knocked. There was a pause just long enough to make Iida start to sweat, and then the wall opened, revealing Midnight- Ms. Kayama!

"Oh?" she said, clearly delighted. "Chibiida using the top secret teacher's entrance? Has high school done what we couldn't? Are you finally loosening up?"

Chibiida.

Chibiida.

CHIBIIDA.

First: how? Why? Iida was over ten centimeters taller than Izuku! Secondly: Iida was never going to recover from this.

"That- that's not it! At all! I am simply attempting to help my fellow students enter the school without being harassed by reporters, Ms. Kayama!"

"You can still call me big sis Nemuri, you know."

"I refuse! It would be inappropriate of me as a student!"

Ms. Kayama sighed. "Well, you aren't wrong about those reporters. They can be a pain. So, just this once, let me welcome you kids to the forbidden environs of the staff area!" She made a grandiose gesture with her arm. "And it's all thanks to Chibiida here."

Iida started muttering about propriety and rules.

Izuku had the feeling it would be a long day.

.

"All right, Hikage, in your professional opinion-"

"What does building inspecting have to do with anything?"

"What?" said Nana. "I didn't say anything about building inspecting."

"You asked for my professional opinion."

"Yes?" said Nana, already dreading where this would go.

"I was a vigilante. For the purposes of money, I was a professional, licensed building inspector."

"I thought you were a professional hermit," said En.

"I was an amateur hermit. You don't get paid for that."

En blinked. "I can't believe people let you into their buildings."

"There were a few times-"

Nana decided to table the question of how neither she nor En had known Hikage was a building inspector. "Okay, fine. Forget the professional part. In your opinion, what was going on with that one reporter guy?"

"Oh," said Hikage. "He's definitely planning a murder."

"A murder!" exclaimed Yoichi.

"Yes, and probably of someone close to Ninth."

"Why didn't you say something?" demanded Yoichi, attempting to lift the taller man up by the front of his shirt and failing.

"Because there's not much we can do about it?"

"Just because you're right doesn't mean I have to like it!" He spun on his heel and stalked up to the silent and incomplete ghost of Toshinori. "It had better not be you, do you hear me? Don't you dare pull an Obi-Wan on poor, sweet Izuku!"

"Does anyone know what he's talking about?" asked Nana.

"Not really," admitted Banjo.

.

"Today," said Mr. Aizawa, after he finished passing out feedback from the battle trial, "you'll pick a class president."

All around Izuku, his classmates threw their hands into the air, eager for the chance to show off their leadership skills.

Izuku kept his hand down. It wasn't that he didn't want to stand out or do the work! It was just... between training after school with Mr. Yagi and Aizawa and trying to get his anxiety under control, he didn't think he'd do a very good job.

.

Yoichi started disappearing his "Izuku for President" banners.

.

Iida, though... Iida would do well, Izuku thought. Look at him, organizing everyone into a vote.

"You're not running, Midori?" asked Hagakure.

"N-no, haha, I have too many other commitments to do a good job, I think."

"That's too bad! I would have voted for you."

There was a smattering of agreement, mostly from Iida and Uraraka. Izuku started blushing.

"R-really? Why?"

("Strawberry," someone whispered.)

"Well, you helped me out during the entrance exam, and you were pretty cool during training yesterday." More agreement. "But if you're not running, I guess I'll pick Monoma. He did get rid of the purple creep."

"Ahahaha, yes, I am clearly the superior candidate!" crowed Monoma, standing up and putting his foot on his chair to pose.

"But his personality's really weird, which is why you would have been my first choice, Midoriya."

"I think Iida would be a good choice!" said Uraraka, raising her hand. "He's super organized and he helped a bunch of us get past the reporters this morning."

More general agreement. Then Todoroki cleared his throat. Everyone looked at him.

"Yaoyorozu," he said.

That was it.

"Good point," agreed Jirou.

.

"A TIE?!"

.

As the only one who hadn't voted for one of the three in the tie, Aoyama was forced to be the tiebreaker. This was done as dramatically as humanly possible.

Yaoyorozu was now president of class 1-A.

This led to a ferocious battle between Monoma and Iida that Iida won by a single vote. Monoma was promptly chosen as class treasurer. Just in time for their other classes.

.

"Those who possess forbidden knowledge should stay together," said Tokoyami gravely as he sat down with Uraraka, Iida, and Izuku.

"Are you talking about the staff area?" asked Asui, who slid in after him.

"Indeed," intoned Tokoyami gravely. "The dark path we have all walked-"

"Fumi is just bad at asking people to be his friends!"

"Dark Shadow!"

Izuku almost started crying into his rice. Having friends was so great.

"I'll be your friend!" said Izuku.

"Me, too!" said Uraraka, pumping a fist.

"Ah," said Tokoyami, coughing into a fist. "I am sure we will be great companions in the darkness of the coming days."

Speaking of darkness... Izuku couldn't help but feel uneasy about... something. He had been ever since seeing those reporters.

"So, Midori, is your hair full of secrets?"

"Wh-what?"

"Don't listen to her! She's just being silly! Like a little sister."

"It's what you always say about that actor you like! His hair is fluffy because it's full of secrets!"

"So, you and Dark Shadow are like brother and sister?" asked Midoriya, changing the subject.

The conversation segued into discussion of their families, and just when Iida was extolling the virtues of his older brother, Izuku's unease spiked. He dropped his chopsticks.

"Is something wrong?" asked Uraraka.

"I... don't know? It just feels like something bad is going to-"

The school alarm promptly went off.

.

"Wow!" said Kirishima. "Iida can do entrances and exits! Manly!"

.

"Wow," said Banjo, "I guess they picked the right guy for the job, after all. He can find entrances and exits! More than my class vice president ever did..."

"Are you copying the small red child?" asked Hikage.

"What?"

"Never mind."

.

"Today's heroics class will be focused on how to fall safely and other basic combat techniques. Before we begin, although you may practice these techniques on your own, outside of class, if you want to spar with others, you need adult supervision until you reach a level where I'm satisfied you won't seriously injure yourself or others by mistake. Now, firstly..."

.

"Mr. Aizawa? Is- um. Was it really just the press breaking in earlier?"

It was time for his first special quirk training with Aizawa, and he should be asking what they were doing today (especially since Aizawa had him change out of his gym uniform and back to his regular uniform), but he couldn't stop thinking about the break-in.

"What makes you think otherwise?"

"I'm, well, I'm not sure? I just, this morning, when I saw them, I got a really bad feeling? Like something bad was going to happen. And it doesn't seem, um, logical, that normal reporters would be able to do that to UA's gate. I mean, anyone can have any quirk- no such thing as a villainous quirk. But someone with a quirk like that, they'd put a lot of effort into controlling it and stuff so stuff like this wouldn't happen by mistake. I guess a reporter could have done it on purpose, though, but then it'd be really easy for UA to find out it was them, wouldn't it? Or the police. Since heroes and police have access to the national quirk registry, so you just have to cross-reference reporters with the registry to find quirks that could fit. But would they know that? Anyway, it seems more logical for a third party to have used the press as cover to infiltrate the school. But why? If nothing is missing and no one is hurt, which would be grounds for school being canceled, the next conclusion would be information gathering. But that still leaves the question of the ultimate ends- Mr. Aizawa? Are you okay?"

His teacher had been glaring at a camera mounted in the corner of the classroom and mouthing things at it.

"I'm fine," said Aizawa. He sighed. "You are right that we haven't located the person who destroyed the gates, but please be assured that we are investigating the incident throughly. Especially Principal Nezu." He shot another glare at the camera, as if to say he'd better be.

"Regardless, it isn't something you need to worry about as a student. We're adding more safety protocols to make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Oh, okay. S-so, what are we doing today? Sensory deprivation? Electric shocks? Stress positions? Bean bag barrage for dodging? High stakes hell exam?" He was ready for anything and very excited.

Aizawa stared at him flatly. "We're... doing quirk counseling."

"Yes?"

"Kid... except for maybe the last one... what exactly gave you the idea that any of those things had anything to do with quirk counseling?"

Izuku started to get the feeling he'd seriously messed up. Except he didn't feel particularly anxious about it.

"Oh, uh, Mom used to get brochures like that in the mail, after I was diagnosed? She didn't ever answer any, but... Apparently, some people originally thought to be quirkless got quirks after being in a high stress situation."

"But no one actually did any of those things to you."

"Not really?"

"Midoriya..."

Izuku looked away. He shouldn't have said anything. He didn't like the quirk counselor at Eisley Elementary, but he didn't want to get her in trouble, either. After all, he was the only one she had to do that stuff with, since his quirk hadn't shown up...

Aizawa sighed with the air of someone exercising a lot of self-control. "Except for that last one," said Aizawa, "and that's debatable, all of those are torture techniques."

Ah. Well. That maybe explained a few things.

"They are not a normal part of quirk counseling. At some point, we may incorporate some combat into this, but that will be to help you become more familiar with your quirk. Not just for the sake of making you stressed."

"But if we aren't doing combat, what are we doing?"

"Well, first we're going to try to figure out what your quirk is. Why don't you sit down." He took out some papers as Izuku made his way to his desk. "Alright. I'm going to go through these questions and write down your answers... then we're going to go through them again while I'm canceling your quirk." He paused. "Actually, first. What did you mean when you said you had a bad feeling about the reporters?"

.

"If I were alive," said Yoichi, "I would be committing so much murder right now."

"I thought we left this behind when Ninth graduated," said Nana. "I thought you said you were going to forgive them because they were stupid kids and Ninth forgave them."

"Well, first off, I lied. Secondly, teachers aren't kids. If we ever get hit by a quirk that brings us back to life, the quirk counselor at his old school will be my first victim."

Nana sighed. "That isn't going to happen."

"Who's going to stop me?"

"Less a who, and more the fact that there has never been a quirk that could revive the dead."

"Meaningless!" exclaimed Yoichi. "Death cannot stop me!"

"Think he's finally lost it after all this time?" asked En, leaning towards Nana.

"No, I think he's just messing with us," hoped Nana.

.

"Alright, kid," said Aizawa exhaustion evident in his tone. "Between your answers, your exam results, the battle trial results, how you react when I use my quirk on you, and Monoma's assessment... Your quirk is at least partially sensory.",

Izuku tried not to feel disappointed, but that seemed rather incomplete as a conclusion. Even though he knew about Danger Sense and this probably was Danger Sense.

"Yeah, I know, it's underwhelming, but remember this is the first session. Whatever your quirk actually does, though, you seem to be using it to detect threats."

Okay, that was more in line with expectations.

"I mean... maybe? I think so. That feels right."

"We also need to figure out what it's stockpiling. Have you ever felt any particular draw to certain situations? More than your peers?"

"Um. I watch a lot of hero fights?"

"You're a fight chaser?"

"A little bit?" admitted Izuku, squirming a little.

Aizawa sighed heavily. "I seriously hope your quirk doesn't stockpile danger- don't test that."

He wasn't going to!

Probably.

Speaking of, though, what did One for All actually stockpile? Power was a very vague description... He'd just went along with it because a) quirk and b) All Might, but it would probably be good to know.

"Next time we meet, I'll be running you through the basic quirk assessment battery- that's a series of tests usually given to five-year-olds to help their pediatric quirk doctors and quirk counselors identify difficult or stubborn quirks. You should have gone through it when you were younger."

Izuku shook his head. "All I remember is the x-ray."

"Why would you get an x-ray?"

"For the toe joint? To tell whether or not I was quirkless?" Why was he saying this? He was going to blow his cover and his secret out of the water! This was so dumb.

But he did say it. Maybe it was his guilty conscience from lying to and misleading Mr. Aizawa so much.

"That's a myth," said Aizawa.

"What?"

"It isn't true." Aizawa began to slump down in his seat. "It's an old wives' tale. Everyone quirkless has the double joint, but not everyone with the double joint is quirkless. I have the double joint, as do about twenty-five percent of people with meta quirks." By the time he finished, only the top half of his face was visible.

"Oh," said Izuku. He wasn't sure what else to say. At least the secret of One for All was completely intact.

"I hate to say this, kid, but it sounds like everyone involved in your early quirk education was incredibly incompetent. You shouldn't have had to deal with that, even if you were truly quirkless. It takes just as much counseling to deal with that in today's day and age as something like, say, Ashido's quirk."

Izuku had never heard it put like that before. "Okay."

"Now, before I send you off for today, do you have any questions about anything we'll be doing? Any of the tests we'll be running, normal quirk counseling procedures, anything. It's important for you to feel comfortable about this."

Izuku's eyes teared up. This had already been a very emotional day, and he wasn't sure a teacher had ever asked him that and meant it. "Mr. Aizawa," he said, earnestly, "you're the best teacher I've ever had."

"Is that a joke?" asked Aizawa, flatly.

Izuku shook his head, centrifugal force flinging his teardrops away.

"That's messed up, kid. I'm terrible."

"You're the best," protested Izuku.

"I just need you to know how incredibly low that bar is. Your other teachers must have gotten shovels to dig tunnels under it. They must be dancing limbo in hell."

Izuku blinked. He had no idea what that meant. "I think they're all still alive..."

"Not for long," muttered Aizawa.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #danger first #danger first au #fic #fanfic

[missdrarrydawn]

------------ Occupy My Heart ------------

Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader

warning: implied smut, brief mentions of drinking

~~~

written for the lovely @leydileyla who offered me this absolute gem of a prompt that I simply couldn't pass up

hope you enjoy hon :DD

~~~

You were really starting to feel the buzz of the Butterbeers a few hours into the Interhouse party that was thrown for all the returning eighth years. You're such a horrible lightweight, Butterbeer is just vaguely alcoholic, if at all. It warmed you up and left a pleasant tingle in its wake. Just enough to let the music and lights around you blur and blend, to ripple against your skin and soothe. The smell of the ale cookies served at various tables scattered around the one conjoined common room for all the Houses now wafted through the thick, cloying air, between meandering bodies of various dancing students, all the scents making your head spin from where you were sitting at the little makeshift bar.

The party's been wilding on way past curfew but no teachers arrived to interrupt you yet so it was fair game. Everything felt so liquid and pleasant, the atmosphere sticking to your slick skin, the warmth and haze prickling at the back of your neck.

Gods you needed a shower. Perhaps you might sneak away to have a quick one? The party showed no signs of slowing down and you were drained.

As you pushed away from the bar, colors still swimming before your eyes from all the sparkle and decorative banners strung up everywhere, you felt a shiver run down your spine.

You felt eyes on you.

Turning about to find the possible culprit, you registered a flash of platinum blonde hair in a darkened corner and the piercing glow of silver eyes lingering on you.

Draco.

A chuckle rumbled from your chest as you allowed yourself a moment to revel in his gaze before melding into the throng of people, sliding between them, trying to remember whether your dorm was the door on the left or the right upstairs. It wouldn't do to barge into someone else's dormroom.

As you made your way along you still felt pins and needles in your back, as if someone was keeping pace with you. Goodness, that was incredibly paranoid, wasn't it? You vowed to yourself to never drink Butterbeer again. Even slightly tipsy you were a disaster.

Finally you got through everyone and into the quieter part of the room, where all the dorms were. There were only a few people milling about there, stumbling off to their rooms with whoever they pulled or to retch or simply pass out.

The beat of the music was muffled here, no longer a steady, beating ebb flowing through your skull, now more resembling a foggy memory. It was easier to think, to breathe. You've never been much of a party animal, but this one was important. It celebrated unity and the war being over, it celebrated those who lived and fought. It mattered to attend. After Hogwarts rebuilt and reopened, the first thing that changed was the system of the four houses, headmistress McGonagall had dismantled it entirely after witnessing how horrific segregation could be.

Everyone was thrown in one mixing pot, which had been strange at first, but throwing a party like this really helped scrub out the imaginary lines in the sand everyone had drawn between themselves.

Speaking of scrubbing, you finally arrived to your dorm and basically collapsed through the door in your quest for a shower. Where was the bathroom door again? Ah right, over there, of course.

You slipped through, the bright Lumos having you squint for a second while your eyes adjusted from the dim haze of downstairs to the sparkling clean of tile.

Right. You closed the door behind you and began to undress, your clothes peeling away from the sweat plastered all over you from all the vigorous dancing you'd done.

As you kicked off your shoes and set your bare feet on the cold floor, a distinct icy chill ran up your legs and through the rest of you, shivering away the brittle buzz you'd worked up, cooling you down.

Once your clothes were a discarded pile on the floor, you stepped into the shower and pulled the fogged glass door shut, fiddling with the taps before a spray of warm water finally hit your face and shoulders.

What a relief.

You began to scrub and lather yourself up, cleaning off the night with the water sluicing down your skin, your mind starting to wander as you relaxed into the moment more. Warm showers were a treasure.

Draco was staring at you back there. For a brief second you made eye contact before you left. Did that mean something? You felt silly for wanting to know but that boy has occupied the vacant spaces of your heart for far too long now, and you couldn't help but hope that his intense, focused gaze meant something more.

As you began washing your hair, a knock on the door startled you out of your skin. You almost poured shampoo into your eyes for heaven's sake!

"Um—occupied?" you yelled out, hoping to be heard over the gush of water. If someone needed the bathroom urgently then they could come in to use it, it's not as if anyone would see you in your birthday suit, but if it wasn't urgent then they could find another one.

"Ahh, Y/N, it's—uh, it's me! I was just wondering if you were okay?" a familiar voice from the other side of the door spoke up.

You knew that voice. It was so familiar. Who—

You felt every bit of you freeze as your brain spat out the answer for you.

Draco. It was Draco.

Checking up on you.

What should you do now? Your heart began hammering away quicker, this was hardly the time or place to flirt or attempt seduction and—

Well. As you considered the statement that just flittered through your mind you found it not entirely true.

You were naked after all, naked and wet. What more perfect scenario for seduction did there exist?

"I'm okay Draco, um—you can come in?" you yelled back, lips stretching into a smile. Technically he shouldn't be here at all, seeing as these were girls quarters and all, but if he's been invited it shouldn't be too much of an issue. If he accepted, that was.

There was silence for a few beats, the moment dragging on, you almost thought you'd scared him off, but then—

The soft, distinct click of the door being opened and shut.

Bingo.

Now, how exactly would you do this? You supposed you could ask him to get you a towel when you were done, and let him have a glimpse.

Merlin it sounded corny as all fuck, but you were prepared to do what it takes.

Until then though, you supposed you should talk about anything, keep the atmosphere up.

You could just barely make out his tall, foggy outline through the sliding glass of the shower, and you watched him move to sit down on the toilet seat.

Wait a second—if you could partly see him, did that mean he could partly see you too?

That was even more perfect.

"Hi Draco, you like the party?" you threw out the question casually, hoping to lessen the strangeness of the situation. You and him were friends, well, acquaintances more so, so it's not as if you've never spoken berore, but still. This was way different from any interaction youve had prior. "Thank you for checking up on me."

"Ahh ahem—no problem Y/N, you seemed a little tipsy back there so I uh—I thought you might—Well yea." he stumbled through his words, hardly even finishing the sentence properly.

That was—quite uncharacteristic of Draco Malfoy. He was always the one with the silver tongue, the sharp remark, had a comment to spare for anything, and to hear him stutter and hiccup his way through speaking as if he were a nervous school girl talking to her crush was very new and strange.

You'd be lying if you said it wasn't endearing as all hell though.

You could have a lot of fun with this.

"I see I see. I did build a bit of a buzz but nowhere near as bad as some of the other characters around this place. I mean, did you see Zabini strip his shirt off and then dance on the tables? Goodness." you simply continued along, as if this were a casual conversation and you weren't naked and washing out your hair.

"Haha, yeah, yes, Blaise will have one hell of a hangover tomorrow." Draco chuckled, though it sounded breathy and rough, somehow.

You were almost done now.

"Parvati will too, say, could you brew a vial of that potion of yours, for hangovers, for her? She's my roommate and I loathe to hear her whining tomorrow. You're the best at it, after all." You let your voice linger above the spray.

This time, Draco audibly spluttered and you saw a flurry of blurred movement, which eased a laugh past your lips.

"Um—yea, of—of course. I can do that. Um, Y/N isn't this—I don't know, a little strange?"

He sounded so thoroughly flustered, which really got you hoping. The stares, checking up on you, doing you favors, getting flustered by the situation, hm.

Hm.

It was worth a shot anyhow, right?

Time for a new plan.

Another chuckle rattled through your ribs. This was insane.

You grabbed the handle of the door and slid it open just enough to lean your head through. You could finally get a good look at him. He was sitting on the toilet seet, his entire face splotched and flushed all down his neck, wringing his hands and bouncing his leg.

When he heard you slide the door open he turned his head abruptly and you heard his breath hitch as he got a look at your face and shoulder sticking out, his eyes sliding from your eyes to your lips, lower still, to your neck and collarbones and—then he remembered himself and turned away abruptly.

"I'm sorry! Oh Merlin, are you—are you done? Do you uh—need a towel or—?" He began to ramble all in one breath and you just continued smiling fondly at his turned back.

"Oh Draco, won't you come in here with me already?"

You held out your hand and patiently waited. You could imagine this would be quite a fallout.

Draco stood completely still when the words left your mouth. One minute, two minutes, three—

The water drying on your skin while more sprayed down had gooseflesh rising all over you. Still, you waited.

"Um—what?" Draco whimpered eventually, voice giving out on him at the end there.

"You heard me." you assurred him.

The hum of running water was the only sound bouncing off the walls again, the very faintest echo of music from downstairs lilting through the closed door.

Draco turned to face you again, he looked wrecked. Eyes wide and dark, his pupils basically swallowing the silver irises, hair disheveled, breath coming in gentle pants.

"You want—?" he mumbled, his voice betraying his own hope and eagerness.

"Yes. For a while." your own smile widened, and for a second a pang of anxiety struck you as you realized he was about to see you naked, but it all dissipated into pooling heat and want as you watched him slowly reach for the first button of his mint green button up shirt and slide it loose. His wide eyes never left yours and you watched the slight tremor in his fingertips as he freed every button, one by one, until his shirt opened and slid off his shoulders, fluttering to the floor.

God he's delicious. All lean, well defined Seeker's physique, the pale marble of his skin an endless expanse. You let your eyes wander, drink in the sight, slide across his chest and lower, over his taut abdomen, hanging up on the waistband of his pants. An outline pushed against the seams there, your mouth watering at the visible bulge.

"Me too." he mumbled, as if you needed any more proof or reassurance of his desire, his hand slowly reaching for his zipper now.

Oh what a lovely party it's been indeed and it was about to get so much better.

~~~

Fin.

#x reader fic #hp fanfic #draco malfoy x fem!reader #party #getting tipsy #showers #implied smut #brief mentions of drinking #tipsy!reader #protective!draco #humour #seduction #getting together #long post

[alkhale]

Shoot the Ball Pt.2 (Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader) Ko-fi request

Hi. Could I get a ushiwaka trying to hopelessly flirt with a clueless OC? I requested Shoot the Ball and I am in love with what you did (and basically everything else you wrote and will write) thanks!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Aaaaa I love your writing!! Would it be possible to get a part two of the Shoot the Ball (Ushijima x Reader) fic?? That story is so fucking adorable and Id love to see more of Ushijima and the readers relationship (maybe throw in a confession or something in there)?

It’s here on AO3 if that makes for easier reading too! More to come!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24551512/chapters/59287438

Shoot the Ball Pt. 2

“Um, senpai, are you alright?”

You laughed, almost a bit haughtily. “Alright? Of course I’m alright, what are you talking about?”

You hardly looked up from your kneeling position on the wooden boards of the humble kyudo hall, bow laid across your lap as you worked on tightening the new string. It wasn’t the best time to readjust to a new one, given your still aching wrist, but you couldn’t have your old one breaking on you with the first round of tournaments coming up.

The hall itself was in impeccable condition, thanks to the hard efforts of yourself and your team. The lot of you spend hours toiling to make sure the grass is cut, the range is kept clean, and the hall itself shines in case you receive curious faculty visits or sponsors otherwise. Shiratorizawa Academy may be a wealthy one, but not all the wealth was concentrated kindly to each part of the school. It was up to you, the captain, and your members to keep the hall shining as though it were just as good—especially because it was —so new visitors would only continue to be impressed.

But instead of shooting rounds like your younger members should be doing, a small huddle of the closer second and first years were shooting you worried glances. You were the only third year still spear-heading the entire campaign since the rest had left for studies or quit beforehand. Your vice-captain was a second year and close confidant and currently running around campus like a fool because you sent her on an errand so you could get more practice in before she chased you out.

“(L/n)-san you’re good at kyudo, so of course you’d stay. We just did it for fun.”

You can be good at it and have fun. You thought tirelessly, remembering watching the third years leave the hall, standing alone in the waning sunlight across wooden floorboards. You’re just giving up.

It wasn’t as though you were born gifted. They can joke you were born with a bow in your hand, but it was pure luck that your mother turned the television on to that channel that day, showcasing the national kyudo archery performance at the Imperial Palace in Tokyo. It was luck that you fell in love with that sound and the way the bow bent and the arrow flew.

And it was hard work to follow through with the luck that brought you here.

They all told you you only had one thing on the brain—kyudo, and they also said it’d probably be the end of you. Even your parents had been dropping light hints as of late that perhaps you should finally peel off the sport and bunker down for your studies. “What about college? Kyudo might not get you there, you know.”

“Are you going to do it forever?”

What else were you going to do? Die? Of course you were going to do kyudo forever. If it didn’t get you into college then you just wouldn’t go.

There was nothing you loved more than this sight, this bow, this.

Nothing.

N-o-t-h-i-n-g.

Your juniors shot each other more nervous looks. One brave young first year who you secretly planned to have join the five-team shoot finally took a step forward, hesitantly pointing to your lap.

“Senpai,” she said nervously, “...your string is…”

“Impeccable,” you said simply, holding up your bow like a sword, a sharp glint in your eye. “Now get back to the range. I’m shooting rounds right after you guys before—”

“You put it on… wrong…”

You calmly stared at your junior for several seconds, the other archers looking frightful behind her. You glanced down to your bow, staring at where your string was, sure enough, notched to absolutely nothing instead of the other end.

You felt a vein throb on the side of your head, cheeks flushing as you did the only reasonable thing and blamed the one person who had shoulders big enough to shoulder the brunt of all your problems.

Ushijima!

----- ----  -----

Shiratorizawa Nurse’s Office, One Week Ago

“You watch kyudo ?” you spluttered, scrambling off the floor and grabbing your stool in disbelief. Ushijima considered you with a cool sort of calm, staring almost blankly back at you.

He stared at your sprawled form on the ground and offered a hand. You slapped it away but it barely moved. The stupid tree of a teenager.

You watch my kyudo?

“Yes,” Ushijima said. You almost jumped, realizing what you’d thought. He set his hands back onto his lap, returning to his solid posture. “My grandmother was well-acquainted with a friend who performed for the national ceremonial procedures. We often have the kyudo channel on within my household.”

Each sentence leaving Ushijima’s lip with frightening ease was punching holes into your gut. His grandma was pals with someone who shot for the national ceremonies? He watches kyudo? He knew what a kaichu was and —

“It is a graceful sport,” Ushijima continued, meeting your gaze evenly. “I have long admired the poise. I watched your debut on the national stage when they broadcasted your first-year tournament. You performed admirably.”

Your brain short circuited, snapping like a bowstring. Ushijima, merciless, continued matter-of-factly, “They also had a small segment on your performance in the prefectural collegates. It is a shame there isn’t talk of scouting, but it does not seem kyudo works the same way our volleyball season does. My grandmother is familiar with your accomplishments and noticed we attend the same academy.”

Huh?

Huh?

HUH?

“I hope you perform well this season as well—”

“Wait one second!” you blurted, flying across the stool and slapping a hand over his mouth. “Wait one damn second!”

Ushijima seemed only mildly surprised that your hand was now plastered over his lips. He blinked once, calmly back at you and you pointed aggressively at him with your other hand, nearly towering over him except even when he was sitting, he seemed to match your height.

“....are you trying to mess with me?” you said suspiciously, eyes narrowed. Ushijima blinked once more, calm. “You’re—you’re just some star volleyball player! And you’re a high schooler! It doesn’t even make any sense! How do you know about all of that, huh? No one even watches that channel on their own unless they’re real—”

You stopped yourself. You blinked rapidly. Real… fans… no, no, no, there’s no way! Ushijima Wakatoshi could not be a kyudo buff—volleyball and kyudo were about on the farthest ends of the spectrum as you could get! It didn’t make any sense.

This strangely nonchalant, weird classmate of yours was supposed to be nothing more than some poster-boy with tried and true skills in volleyball who stole the spotlight from the other sports at Shiratorizawa Academy, who was nice enough to pick up your flyers and greet you in the morning and say hello in that low, rumbling way of his when you spotted him and he made eye contact with you—

I don’t get this guy! You felt a vein throb on the side of your head, tempting to fist the collar of his uniform and really show him what for—all due to your unjust frustration—if this hard-to-read volleyball jock was just messing around—but, well, Ushijima didn’t really seem like the type for that either.

You blinked stupidly at Ushijima when his hand calmly came up, holding your wrist and lowering your hand down so he could speak. “I watch.”

He seemed to think for a moment before continuing, as though answering a question asked by the teacher, “You’re on channel KNJ most Thursday nights. Some Sunday mornings. I often record the broadcasts when there seems to be something notable.”

You felt something stab through your entire being, ripping into your existence on this universe, turning the world around you upside on your head.

Mr. All-Youth-Japan tuned into broadcasts that featured your kyudo accomplishments and—

“I watch,” Ushijima repeated, never breaking contact with your gaze. His large fingers circled easily around your wrist, holding them loosely against the calloused heat of his palm. “As I said, I am a fan of your archery.”

Something incoherent left your lips. A croak of some sorts. Ushijima’s brows furrowed slightly. “Yes?”

“L-Let me get this straight,” you said shakily. “My… my archery… you watch it?”

“Yes,” Ushijima said.

“You… like it?”

“Quite,” Ushijima said.

The faint smell of salonpas tickled your nose. The light hint of sweat and fabric softener. Up close, you suddenly realized that Ushijima had more complex eyes than you thought, hinting a little bit of gold. Lighter than his hair. He smells different from what I’d expect too.

Wait, what the hell were you expecting in the first place?

Ushijima frowned briefly, eyes suddenly leaving your face and turning to your wrist. He considered where his fingers touched your skin, feverishly warm. His thumb lightly pressed the inside of your wrist and he turned his gaze back to you. “(L/n)-san, is your wrist swollen—”

“W-Well, it only makes sense, I guess!” you said loudly, yanking your hand entirely out of his grasp and tossing them both into the air. Ushijima looked up at you with furrowed brows as you laughed, nervous and sweating bullets with your fingers waggling. “ The Ushijima Wakatoshi? A fan of my archery? Hah! Haha… hah! Of course you’d be! Y-You have good taste! I’ll give you that, Ushijima-san! I’ll give you that! But that doesn’t mean anything else in the grand scheme of all this—y-you’re still nothing but a competitor for the sponsorships of this school!”

Ushijima apparead mildly confused, brows furrowed in a touch of a heavy set over his normally stern features. “Sponsorship?”

“That’s right!” you blurted, pointing right at his face. Your eyes were spinning, head twisting in circles. “All anyone cares about is your stupid volleyball!” Ushijima’s frown deepened. “Your team gets the spotlight even though we’ve got plenty of great achievements—you’re flattery won’t get you anywhere! My club is still going to come out on top and all anyone’s going to be talking about is kyudo and—and more kyudo!”

“Volleyball isn’t stupid,” Ushijima said calmly. “But I did not realize that others in our student body were not watching kyudo—”

“I’m going to go shoot right now!” you declared, almost delirious as you hurriedly grabbed your bag. Ushijima stood up from his stool, looking after you. “G-Gotta get those results—bye!”

Before Ushijima could say anything otherwise, you were sprinting out the door, nearly tripping over your feet and covering your face in your hands as you still tried to process the fact that Ushijima Wakatoshi was your first and probably only fan.

You probably fainted somewhere in the kyudo hall. This had to be a dream. A weird, warped dream caused by delirious induced hallucinations of Ushijima’s volleyball posters.

--- ---- ---- ----

Sadly, it hadn’t been a dream. The entire interaction a week ago had been very, very real, and it’d annoyingly been on your mind since. You tried furiously to dispel all thoughts of it with waves of your arrows and aggressive scrubbing of the floors, but to no avail.

“I watch.”

Ushijima of all people? You couldn’t wrap your head around it. Him? Kyudo? That muscle head?

But… if he knew so much about it and even recorded broadcasts… then he really did have great taste. Kyudo was an amazing sport. Anyone willing to give it the attention it deserved was worth a good tick or two in your book. Not only that, but he complimented your archery—

No, no, forget it! You furiously shoved your things into your bag, wrapping up your bow and unstringing it as you slung everything over your shoulder. Several bags hung off your back and shoulders as well, stuffed with targets you needed to take home and repaint for tomorrow’s practice. You were the last one in the kyudo hall, sending all your juniors home to rest. Who cares if he watches your archery? Just a month ago he was some stranger on a poster!

You nodded to yourself, satisfied with your roundabout answers. Yeah, stop worrying about him. What are the odds we’ll run into each other again, anyway? Only on posters. You and Ushijima Wakatoshi were still a decent world apart, even with the recent amount of run-ins. Who was to say they wouldn’t stop tomorrow?

You nodded again, kicking the door open with your foot and struggling to pull all your bags out along with your bow, strapped neatly to your back. You huffed, shaking free like a wet dog and hobbling down the corner of the hall to begin the long trek back to the dorms. Just focus on kyudo, (Y/n). Kyudo’s all that matters anyway, not volleyball players the size of oak trees and —

“Good evening, (L/n)-san.”

AND WHY THE HELL IS HE HERE TOO?

You gaped in disbelief, pale as a sheet with your arms bulging over the top of your bags, looking like a pack mule in the middle of the road.

Ushijima Wakatoshi calmly gazed back at you, expression neutral. His volleyball bag, neatly printed with the school’s logo was slung over his shoulder. He wore the deep purple track jacket over a black t-shirt and volleyball shorts—a young athlete clearly fresh out of practice.

And now here he was, standing in front of the kyudo hall, looking at you.

Ushijima raised one big hand in greeting, staring at you. The evening glow cast a nice little warm light around his broad shoulders and hair, turning it soft.

HAH?

You almost dropped your bags in shock, blinking rapidly. You rubbed one of your eyes, blinking again and squinting in disbelief at Ushijima right in front of you. He brought his hand back down, calmly facing you.

“Um,” you said intelligently. “...take this however you want, but… what are you doing here?”

Ushijima’s eyes swept once over the amount of bags bulging out from under your arms, taking particular interest in examining the tall, towering form of your unstrung bow rising high above your head. He turned his eyes calmly back to you.

“I was waiting for you.”

Oh, right. You thought. That makes perfect sense. For some reason, Ushijima Wakatoshi is waiting for me outside the kyudo hall.

HAAAH?

“Is there… a reason why?” you asked tentatively, keeping your eyes on him as you shifted side to side like an uncertain crab.

Ushijima answered, without missing a beat, “I wanted to talk with you.”

You almost dropped all your bags. Almost. “Uh… about…?”

Ushijima seemed to consider your words for a moment longer this time. He faced you with an ungodly amount of calm, reminding you more of a statue for some kind of demi-god than a human with his towering frame and golden glow against the sunset. “Whatever it is that you might want to talk about.”

What the heck is that supposed to mean? “What the heck is that supposed to mean?” you asked, outright confused. Ushijima’s brows furrowed slightly. “And, hold on, correct me if I’m wrong or something, but you weren’t… waiting for me… right?”

(Y/n), are you an idiot? Of course this guy wasn’t waiting for you. Why would he be waiting for you —

“No,” Ushijima said. You sighed in relief. “Practice ended fifteen minutes ago. It was not much of a wait.”

You dropped all your bags to the floor, except your bow, sturdy against your back. Ushijima’s eyes turned down to the mess at your feet.

You stood like a cardboard cut out in the middle of the road, frozen in disbelief. But why?

“Do you need help?” Ushijima asked, stepping closer. You jumped back into action quickly scrambling for the bags. “You were heading back to the dorms, correct?”

“S-So what if I was?” you snapped, trying to precariously balance all your bags again. Ushijima waited, watching you struggle. You defensively added, “I-I have a system! You surprised me so I just have to get them stacked in the right order again!”

“I see,” Ushijima said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

What the hell is this guy’s problem? You thought in horrified confusion, grabbing at your bags and huffing. What does he want from me? Is this some new type of bullying?

“Why are you carrying so many bags?” Ushijima asked. In any other manner, it would’ve sounded completely different, but his voice was calm, as though stating fact. You’re mouth opened and closed like a fish, still trying to wrap your head around this strange interaction.

“B-Because I have to repaint the targets!” you snapped. You struggled to fit them all back on your arms, scowling. “They were chipping yesterday so—”

In one sweeping motion, Ushijima’s hand closed over several of the bag handles, lifting the bulky materials up into the air. You blinked rapidly in disbelief, hands still hanging in the air, holding nothing but your own bow on your back while Ushijima calmly held onto your targets.

“I’ll carry them,” he said simply, gazing down at you with those impassive, unreadable eyes. The sunset made them a little warmer, but only because of the sunset. “What part of the dorms do you stay in?”

You gaped at Ushijima like a fish. He waited patiently for your answer, standing beside you and holding all your bags like they were nothing.

“I-I don’t need your help, you jerk!”

Ushijima had the nerve to look confused. “It’s more efficient this way.”

“Are you trying to pick a fight?”

“Are you on the west or east side?”

“West—I-I’m talking to you, you tree trunk! Put those down! I’ll carry them myself!”

“I do not see why you would choose a less efficient manner to—”

“You want to get beat up?”

“No, that was not my intention. Have I done something to upset you?”

---- ---- ---- ---

But the problem didn’t stop there.

Every evening after practice, Ushijima waits, without fail, outside the kyudo hall. You’re always the last one to leave, and it seems for some ungodly reason, the timing of the end of his own practices mesh perfectly with yours.

You can’t even begin to wrap your head around it, staring in disbelief day after day as Ushijima appears, again and again, waiting for you outside to walk you back to the dorms. He offered to take your bag for you, asking dutifully each time even though you always turned him down since it’s just your bow and backpack and Ushijima just nods and continues, speaking every other bout of silence.

You tried to figure out why, but all he does is answer, in his stupid, impassive Ushijima-way, “I wanted to talk to you.”

Talk? With you? What the hell was that even supposed to mean? What kind of game was this guy playing? It didn’t make any sense! Each day you set out to figure out how to stop this nonsense, but each afternoon, Ushijima brought up several other topics of conversation that made you pause, pushing it off another day and then another.

And then you just… sort of resigned yourself to this strangeness.

Is it because he’s my fan? You rubbed your chin in thought, frowning at your shoes while Ushijima walked in content silence beside you. A few students shot the two of you curious glances, but you just furrowed your brows, automatically following Ushijima as he navigated you two outside a crowd of track runners and moved to the other side of the walkway with you in thoughtful tow. Is that it? I mean, I’m flattered, but this is still weird.

He talked to you about all kinds of things too—kyudo, mainly. Ushijima was a weird person to hold conversations with, seemingly blunt and forward with his intentions, but an absolute enigma at the same time. He would ask without fail how your practice went, your intentions for the upcoming preliminaries, how the competition looked, how your kyudo was going, your team—

And, yeah, maybe you would answer because it was kyudo and you loved talking about kyudo—but that was the only reason why. The only one. If someone was asking about kyudo, you’d always answer without fail.

“Well, what about volleyball?” you snapped one day, the two of you standing in the middle of the pathway, still a good few minutes away from the dorms. Ushijima turned to you, fixing you with his entire attention like always. “You’re some kind of crazy volleyball nut, right? Why aren’t you talking about it?”

“...I was under the impression you were not interested in volleyball,” Ushijma said. Did the jerk sound pleased? No way , Ushijima Wakatoshi was practically limited to two emotions. Ushijima one and two.

“I think volleyball is fine!” you said. “It’s a great sport. It’s not as great as kyudo, but it’s fine. Isn’t it your whole life? Stop talking about mine, you creep. What about yours?”

You looked up at him when Ushijima didn’t say anything. The quiet expression on his impassive face made you pause, staring at him with curiously round eyes as a third Ushijima seemed to finally appear and he started, almost… warmly , to talk about it—volleyball, him.

“Yes,” Ushijima said. “I like volleyball.”

Well, he really did seem to know his stuff about kyudo.

So… maybe Ushijima Wakatoshi wasn’t too bad after all. I mean, if he’s my fan… you should do your duty then, right? Your personal vendetta against Ushijima had mostly stemmed from the unjust bias in publicity, but it wasn’t really his fault… But only because he’s my fan… yeah. It’d be mean to turn away someone genuinely interested in talking about kyudo.

You figured you could put up with this. Just for a bit longer.

Maybe. Just a bit.

--- --- ---- ---

At the crack of dawn one weekend, you looked up from tying your running shoes, spotting a familiar, hulking figure only a few feet away. Steam billowed past his lips, making him look just as much of a monster as he did that one morning almost several months ago now from the club meeting.

Dedicated. You blew hot air into your freezing hands, shivering at the morning chill. Guess he really isn’t a nationally ranked player for nothing.

“Ushijima!”

His arms moved neatly at his sides, stride even, form impeccable. Ushijima’s eyes swung across the school courtyard and landed on your lone form by the benches. You couldn’t make out the shift in his expression from where you stood, but instead of waving in response like you expected, he veered off his running track across the pathway and made his way to you.

“Good morning,” Ushijima said, hardly sounding winded. This guy, I swear. You lifted a hand again in greeting, stuffing your freezing fingers back into your pockets. He stopped beside you, radiating warmth and thrumming with a low, even pulse of energy. You almost wanted to put your hands on him just to warm them up.

“I didn’t know you ran on the weekends too,” you said. “You don’t go home?”

“I visit when needed,” Ushijima said evenly. “My household isn’t far from campus. It’s easier to stay in the dorms.”

“Oh, I see,” you shuffled on your feet, shifting your hands inside your pockets. “Uh, sorry to disturb you. Just wanted to say hey.”

“You didn’t disturb me,” Ushijima said.

Give me something to work with after you say stuff like that! You grimaced, somewhat used to this sort of flat-ended conversation by now. You rubbed the back of your neck, Ushijima still waiting in silence beside you, seemingly content to just stare at the pathway, steam lightly slipping past his mouth when he exhaled.

“...you, uh,” you started awkwardly. “Want to run together?”

Ushijima’s dark eyes turned toward you. You shrugged, waving a hand. “If I can’t keep up, just keep going. I’m not looking to mess with your training regime or anything.”

“You’ll be able to keep up.”

You stopped, looking at Ushijima with round eyes. He gazed evenly back at you as you searched for a hint of mockery or some kind of tease, but his expression was dutifully earnest.

“...okay,” you mumbled. “...Let’s go then.”

The two of you broke off back into a jog, slowly finding your pace together, arms and legs moving in unison.

The run warmed you up faster than you expected.

You and Ushijima never once broke pace with each other.

---- --- ----

“Tendou-senpai, who is that with Ushijima-senpai?”

Tendou hummed, swinging his legs back and forth as he stretched lazily out across the court. In a few minutes he’d shape up before Coach could lecture him about his terrible form. Shirabu was stretching out beside him, eyes turned toward the double-door opening of the gym where they were letting a bit of a breeze come through. Goshiki looked up at Shirabu when he mentioned Ushijima, quickly peeking his head around too.

Sure enough, outside the double doors stood a completely rare sight to behold. Ushijima Wakatoshi himself cut several minutes close to the beginning of practice to stand outside and speak with someone.

You.

Goshiki frowned in confusion, barely catching a glimpse of you blocked by Ushijima’s hulking figure. His head was turned downwards, speaking with you. A massive, clothed staff seemed to come up from behind your back, however, rising even over Ushijima’s head. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Kyu-chan~” Tendou hummed. “Our dear captain’s new little friend!”

“Kyu-chan?” Goshiki repeated loudly. “Who is that? Is she close to Ushijima-senpai?”

“...she’s the captain of the kyudo club,” Shirabu said, blinking in recognition. “I see her passing out flyers to the lower grades. She and Ushijima-senpai are friends? Are they classmates?”

“Something like that,” Tendou said. “Waka-kun is a bit of a fan.”

“Of kyudo?” Shirabu looked over in mild surprise. “I didn’t think Ushijima-senpai could look at any other sport beside volleyball.”

“Well, something like that too?” Tendou touched a finger to his chin, feigning ignorance. “It’s more like he became a fan of the sport as a result!”

“Of what?” Shirabu continued, raising a critical brow.

“Kyudo?” Goshiki said. “What’s that?”

Shirabu rolled his eyes, looking done with the wing spiker’s nonsense. Goshiki gaped in disbelief, quickly turning to Tendou who’d rolled over onto his stomach, watching the sight of you and Ushijima in amusement, as though it were some kind of television soap opera.

You said something to Ushijima, shoving a plastic bag his way. He took it calmly with one hand, holding it tightly at his side as he said something else to you. Tendou watched a dumb sort of laugh touch your lips and you shook your head, waving to Ushijima over your shoulder as you headed off to your own practice.

Ushijima watched you go, waiting there until you disappeared from sight. He held the bag at his side, waiting a second longer before he turned back toward the gym.

“Ah,” Tendou said, “young love.”

Shirabu’s grip on his ankle slipped and Goshiki choked, the two of them looking at Tendou in almost disbelieving horror. “ What? ”

---- ----  ----

"Ushijima-san brings the game to a match point now with that finishing serve. His powerful strikes are yet to be received by the opposing team. His statistics are still on the rise and he might just be able to finish the set with another service ace, bringing it up for — ”

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to admit it. Maybe a couple months ago you wouldn’t have wanted to admit it, because it would have left an unfairly foul taste on your mouth, reminding you again that there was perfectly good reason for Ushijima and his team to be receiving the kind of publicity and acclaim they did.

But now… well, sure, Ushijima wasn’t a bad guy at all. You might even say you were sort of acquaintances now. Maybe friends. To an extent. He was a bit awkward, blunt, and sometimes hard to talk too if you didn’t figure out the nuances in his rather simple and earnest approach—that still rubbed you the wrong way from time to time but what was life without some disputes—but the evidence was glaringly obvious.

Ushijima Wakatoshi worked hard. Terribly, frighteningly so, in the same way that you could understand with every new ache of your wrist and pull of your bow, straining to push and push and rise higher and higher. You noticed it in his runs, in his practices, and now, even sneaking a quick watch of a few of his highlights online, which lead to an endless spiral of watching several more taped games of his performances.

He dedicated himself to volleyball the same way you did to kyudo. You were both hopeless causes for these things you were willing to give your all too.

You replayed the last point again, watching huddled up on the bench as you waited for the lunch bell to ring. You’d had to tape up your wrist today, finally giving in to Ushijima’s persistent, dull-tone nagging. You’d go easier on practice too, just this once, since he seemed to adamant about it. Just this once.

“Many will be disappointed if you can’t shoot.”

I mean, I can’t let my fans down, right? Heheheh...

The announcer started speaking in your ear and you followed Ushijima across the court, watching him toss the ball up for that killer serve again. I know how it ends but I still get anxious watching this.

“(L/n)-san.”

You let out an inhuman screech, phone flying into the air as your limbs spazzed out. Ushijima blinked once, calmly catching your phone before it hit the unforgiving floor and holding it in his grip as he waited for you to calm down. You wheezed, slapping your chest to make sure your heart was still in it, cheeks flushed red as you gaped at Ushijima in disbelief. “U-Ushijima! You scared me! Say something next time!”

“I did,” Ushijima said, only mildly confused. “I said your name.”

“Louder!”

“I see,” Ushijima said. He grabbed your dangling earbuds and paused, turning your phone screen over.

His own face looked back at him, impassive and collected.

You slapped your phone out of his hand, letting it hit the floor with a clack. Ushijima blinked once at it and then looked back at you. You heaved, cheeks flushed a bright red as you stuttered, practically shouting, “It’s not what it looks like!”

Ushijima bent down to pick up your phone.

You quickly scooped it and shoved it into your pocket, completely frazzled. Ushijima considered the now empty spot in his hand before looking back at you, completely unfazed.

“We were seeded for Inter-High this year,” Ushijima said calmly. “Next month we’ll play. Would you like to come then?”

“Who said I wanted to watch your stinking game?” you snapped, cheeks till bright red as you practically hissed at the towering young man. Ushijima’s face remained almost expressionless, almost, but he simply waited for more words to come out of you, as they always did. “When is it? In a month? Maybe I’ll come! Maybe!”

“I look forward to seeing you there,” Ushijima said. He glanced back down to his hands before looking over at your bow strapped to your back. “Your beginning preliminaries don’t allow for outside spectators.”

Stop saying it like you mean you’ll come if it were different! You waved Ushijima off. “Yeah, yeah, but we’re making it past prelims so you can come to the official tournament.”

“You’re confident,” Ushijima said.

“Of course I am! What do you think I’ve been doing all this time?”

Ushijima’s hands shifted to his sides. He gazed down at you, expression almost light. No, no, no, you’re just imagining things. “I look forward to watching you then.”

“Check your calendar first,” you muttered. “You don’t even know if you’ll be able to come.”

“I will attend, if it is alright with you.”

This guy is really something else! You ran a quick hand through your hair, fighting back the furious flush of pride that threatened to overtake your features. Ushijima started saying something else, calmly talking about how he felt your form improved lately, but he had yet to see so for himself. You can’t help but think about how he’d opened the gym doors for you, allowing you to take a peek into their harrowing, rigorous volleyball practice schedule simply because you were a bit curious and—

You’re not sure what possessed you next.

“You can come if you want,” you said suddenly. “To practice today.”

Ushijima paused, looking back to you. You finally met his gaze, rubbing the back of your neck. “Since you like it so much, right? Kyudo. I can… you can try it, if you want. Just this once.”

(Y/n) I think you’ve completely lost your mind, maybe you really are practicing too hard after all and —

“If it is not a hindrance to your performance,” Ushijima said. “I will come.”

You scoffed, scuffing your foot along the floor. “What, you think I’m gonna choke?”

“No,” Ushijima said.

“You know, would it kill you to give me something to work with for once—”

“If you intend to watch more matches, please watch our match against Itachiyama,” Ushijima said, after a pause.. “It was where I received my ranking. My performance is… better, during that match.”

“Please stop talking.”

--- ---  ---- ----

A round of terrified gasps and gargles from your fellow club members was about the best warning you got that Ushijima had finally made his appearance at your kyudo hall, right as rain, bright and early like he promised.

The poor first year who’d been the one to open the door looks downright terrified, face pale at Ushijima’s towering figure now blocking the doorway into the entrance hall. He gazed down at her, the top half of his face nearly obscured until he lowered his head slightly in a fearsome bow.

“Good morning. I’m sorry to intrude.”

She gaped, staring in disbelief at his appearance while the other girls had all turned and then made equally disbelieved faces, eyes round and popping out of their heads.

“H-Hey, (Y/n)!” your vice captain hissed. “I might be going crazy, but isn’t that Ushijima standing at our door? What’s the boy’s volleyball team captain doing here?”

“Are they trying to run us out?” one girl gasped. “So they can expand the gym?”

“They’ve come for our kyudo hall!”

“Captain, please do something!”

You know, maybe a few months ago you would’ve thought exactly the same. You sighed in amusement, crossing your arms over your hakama as you exited the shooting range and set your bow down against the wall. Who would’ve thought?

“It’s fine guys,” you said, waving to your club members who gaped at you. “I invited him over. Ushijima wanted to see how a kyudo practice went. I promised I’d help him shoot one round.”

“Captain—”

“Invited—”

“Ushijima-senpai—”

You walked over to Ushijima, looking up at him with your hands on your hips. He seemed to take in your formal kyudo attire with particular care, reaching up to his chest and setting his hand down on his black shirt and shorts, his volleyball jersey hanging over his shoulders. “Is the attire required?”

“Not this time,” you said with a grin. “We probably don’t have a uniform that fits you anyways. Come on in.”

The girls around you continued to gape in disbelief. Ushijima bowed to them once more, politely taking off his shoes and bending down to make it into the hall without hitting his head. He rose to his full height below the arching wooden beams, calmly taking his jacket off as well and slinging it over his arm as he followed behind you, trudging like a massive shadow.

You secretly took note of his mannerisms in the hall, curious about whether or not you’d need to correct him for this or that. To your disturbed surprise, Ushijima found himself at perfect ease in the completely formal setting, properly shifting to the side to stay out of the presentation range and moving in even, clear steps across the floor.

He looked to you, waiting for your next instructions. It was almost cute, like a giant, big dog.

Almost.

“We’ll match you with a bow and show you the practice movements,” you said cheerfully, getting a little pumped up about teaching someone for the first time in awhile. Not to mention a total newbie to the sport who was a god in his own—truly a bit satisfying for your ego. “Then we shoot, just a bit.”

Ushijima nodded, his expression settled into one of ease. You stopped just short of grabbing the unstrung bows, blinking in surprise.

Did he just smile?

---- ----  ---  ----

“I can’t believe I’m seeing this with my own eyes.”

“I know! It’s the Ushijima-senpai. I thought he was some kind of scary giant!”

“I heard he’s cold to everyone else! He glares at anyone who comes close!”

“Did you hear? Apparently he comes from a super wealthy, really well-off family! And he’s gifted! He’ll go pro for sure!”

“Why’s he here with senpai then?”

The first and second year girls all shared looks, frowning at each other before they peered around the corner of the sliding doors into the shooting range.

The height difference was pitifully apparent when you stood beside Ushijima, hands on your hips as you loudly and carefully instructed him on what he’d need to know to make sure he didn’t hurt himself. The obvious pride and ego in your stance seemed to make up for any height difference though, as Ushijima patiently craned his head down and listened to you, holding the bow and arrow in his hands.

You eagerly touched your own bow, showing him in exaggerated motions the stances, shuffling backwards to show him how you knelt and then stood, coming to stand in shooting position. Ushijima listened to all of this with obvious attentiveness, following your every motion and nodding, asking a quiet question once or twice.

Your juniors made eyes at each other, nervously peering around the corner.

“Is this something she’s doing to show kyudo is worth attention?”

“Is it a fight? Do you think he challenged her to a fight or something?”

“But if it’s senpai, wouldn’t she be the one challenging him to a fight? She’s been so worried lately about new members…”

Your vice captain observed the two of you in silence, arms crossed over her chest. She carefully considered Ushijima’s attentive stare, the quiet and swift way he moved to follow your motions, coming always to stand beside you unless you shooed him back to make another demonstration. Her eyes finally tracked back to Ushijima’s bag hanging in a small visitor cubby, neatly folded bags of energy drinks and protein bars with two boxes of cut fruit—one wrapped and the other one not.

“Can you believe who I ran into trying to get that drink you told me to get? That jerk all over our school!”

The drinks sitting in Ushijima’s bag were the ones she’d told you about all those months ago.

“I think,” she said. “It’s going to be okay… probably.”

Your juniors gaped in disbelief. Your vice captain shrugged.

“The nice thing about archery is that it doesn’t really matter if you shoot right or left!” you said amiably, growing more and more excited as you showed Ushijima the correct position for a left-handed archer. “Not like volleyball, right? The ball goes a totally different way. Arrows always fly straight if you shoot it right.”

Ushijima’s hand flexed against the bow. He gazed down at you. “You noticed.”

“Well, duh , who couldn’t tell what hand you’re hitting with? Anyway, you’re lucky I can actually shoot crazy good with both, here, this part gets easier.”

You stood right beside Ushijima, hardly even coming up to his shoulder. His eyes were focused on the top of your head for a moment, gazing at the crown of your hair before his eyes shifted to your hands, small and calloused as they reached for his and you molded yourself against him. Your eyes were shining as you guided his hands against the bow, showing Ushijima how to pull the string. You pressed your fingers into the crook of his elbow, squeezing to draw him back and lightly touching the small of his back to straighten him out.

He could feel the whisper of your heart against him, the light pulse like the flutter of the net after a strike into its side, shaking its hold.

“There,” you said softly, pulling back with a grin. Ushijima’s gaze turned over his shoulder to look down at you, properly taking in the way your hair framed your cheeks, how your eyes brightened, more and more, as though being here could make you invincible.

The way I feel on the court.

“Now if you just pull and release like I taught you,” you said gently, touching his wrist one more time and then mimicking the action with your own arms, copying his left-handed stance. “You’ll be golden!”

Ushijima carefully considered his form, focusing intently on the arrow and the target that seemed an entire court away. It was reassuring, in that sense. It wasn’t hard to envision the power he’d need to send a ball that far. The arrow and bow in his hands were rather different, fragile yet stiff when he pulled, bending and bending but not breaking.

“Don’t hold back,” you said right by his side. Ushijima’s eyes met yours over the bow and he took in fully then, the sight of your eyes, burning. “We can handle more than you think.”

Ah.

Ushijima never took his eyes off you, firing off the arrow, shooting straight into nothingness.

Your eyes quickly shot to where it landed. You laughed, shaking your head at where the arrow hand landed, just a few inches from the target into the sand. “Hey! That’s actually not bad for a first time—guess even you can’t get it on the first shot though, right?”

The grin on your face was flooded with pride, cheeky as you laughed, turning back to him and picking up your bow. Ushijima followed the curve of your lips, disappearing into a smile, the crinkle of your eyes. “Here, here, one more time! I want to see the Ushijima Wakatoshi give kyudo another shot, or even a dozen more!”

You raised your bow, grabbing your waiting arrow as you went through the foot motions and stopped. “Maybe you can get a little good—then I’ll gloat to the whole world that a nationally ranked volleyball player learned kyudo from me , right?”

“That seems unnecessary,” Ushijima said, watching your arms, your hands, your body coil like a practiced, well-oiled machine.

“Publicity!” you said. “Help me out here, would you? Kyudo isn’t as loved as volleyball, you know. Look, watch how a pro does it.”

He felt something stir in his gut at your words, lurching.

You copied his stance and turned your gaze forward. Ushijima looked behind him when he sensed a sudden hush fall over the hall, your juniors watching in rapt attention as you pulled your arrow back and adjusted your entire stance.

Your eyes zeroed in on the target. You exhaled.

The light in your eyes never seemed more fierce.

With a resounding clap the arrow shot out from your fingers, as though guided by the wind. Your hair blew out from your face, coiling backwards. It slammed dead-center into the target.

Ushijima felt again, the stir, quick and fervent in his gut. His grip on the borrowed bow tightened as you gazed at the arrow, smoothly holding your bow at your side and then you turned to him. The memory of the television flickered through his head, the garbled, clear words growing louder as he faced you and your eyes focused on him, bright.

“Maybe we could make an archer out of you just yet,” you laughed, rubbing your chin as you observed Ushijima’s own charm as he held the bow. “In our uniform you’d really look like you belonged here. You’ve got the poise for it.”

“...but?” Ushijima said, sensing the continuing hang of your words.

“But,” you agreed, propping your chin up as you nodded to yourself. “Yeah… you really do look better on a volleyball court, you know?”

Twang! Twang!

He’d always thought they were a bit similar—that sharp, satisfying sound that always left your bow when you shot and the sound of his hand connecting with the ball, sending it just right through the air.

Ushijima let the stir in the pit of his stomach flood his chest, calmly seeping down to the tips of his fingers as he gazed at you.

“Let’s give it one more go. Next time you can show me how to spike if it won’t rip my arm off—”

“(L/n)-san,” Ushijima said, his voice like a low rumble. Your juniors flinched at the back of the hall and you simply hummed in response, looking back at him. “Thank you.”

“...you’re welcome,” you said amiably, laughing a bit. “If you like it so much, you can come when you’re not busy—”

“I like you, (L/n)-san.”

Your juniors froze. Your vice-captain’s eyes bulged from her head. You blinked, grinning at Ushijima.

“Yeah, I know, you dork. You’re my first and biggest fan! Were you just blown away about seeing my shooting in person?”

“Yes,” Ushijima said. He properly turned to face you, eyes heavy, expression set. You suddenly felt a suspicious chill curling up your spine, forcing you to blink at him with wide, confused eyes. “I like watching you shoot the best.”

Ah, see! Nothing to be worried about. What was I even thinking in the first place? Your juniors sighed in relief behind you. “I know! I really am the—”

“But you,” Ushijima said, completely and utterly calm, voice clear as water, “are what I like the best as well.”

For once, you committed one of the gravest sins—your bow clattered to the floor. Your face turned pale in disbelief, color slowly starting to color it back in soft red as it came up from your neck and to your face. The entire kyudo hall went silent at Ushijima’s words, resounding like an echo.

“Uh… yeah, I mean… um… what’s that supposed to… mean?”

Ushijima continued, without missing a beat, merciless—

“I like you,” Ushijima said. A heartbeat longer and he added, calmly, “I want to be with you.”

Thud!

“S-S-Senpai’s collapsed! Someone call a teacher, we’re being attacked!”

---- ----- ----

Two Years Ago

Ushijima Household

“Wakatoshi, I believe this young lady attends your academy as well.”

Ushijima calmly looked up from the steaming cup of tea placed carefully in front of him. The usual quietness, the faint stuffiness that resided within his grandmother’s studies and quarters was still prevalent to this day as he joined her for her afternoon tea. The attendants had already been dismissed, waiting outside the hall to bring in lunch once his grandmother was ready.

His legs itched to shift in their resigned position, a sensation he was training himself to forget. These were small, trivial things he had no business entertaining. Once he stepped onto the court, it would mean nothing.

The large television set was fixed to a low but clear volume. Across the screen, an array of young people were being presented in an orderly fashion across a kyudo hall. His grandmother was always watching their segments, but the time slot had changed to coincide with their afternoon tea.

She talked less about his future during these moments now, since the kyudo channel shifted time. He felt, in a childish, small corner of his heart, grateful for that.

“Do you intend to play volleyball beyond your studies, Wakatoshi? There’s more beyond the sport for you within our family.”

His mother had already informed him to consider saying the correct words to placate his grandmother. Ushijima did not know what those words could be. Not if they involved anything other than volleyball.

His left hand twitched over the top of his lap. Ushijima faintly followed the announcer’s words, trying to find what it was his grandmother had meant— there.

A fierce young girl glared hard at the expanse in front of her. Her hakama clung tightly to her body, hair pulled back and out of her face. He wasn’t familiar with her, not personally, but he had a vague sense he might have passed her on more than one occasion after practice—the kyudo hall on campus was close to the volleyball gym.

It was a final shoot off, according to the commentator. His grandmother watched with rapt attention, quietly commenting that she was fond of this girl from Shiratorizawa— she shoots like she means it. He’d never heard his grandmother speak in such a manner over any kind of sport.

Ushijima watched the screen with newfound interest, a touch critical. Kyudo was a quiet sport, not the kind that received acclaim the way volleyball did. He’d never once considered himself partaking in it though he harbored no ill will.

“There,” his grandmother said. “Watch this now, Wakatoshi.”

Ushijima watched you through the screen, your stern, serious face matching that of your competitors as they set up their shot. Their arrow fired, hitting the mark barely off from the center sphere, it seemed it was practically center. The commentator announced what this meant in the shift of points and that you would have to score consecutive kaichus once more to take the entire competition back. Full marks. You had to hit dead center to make up for your team’s single miss.

You moved, elegant and poised. He could understand why his grandmother liked you. You matched all her tastes.

His left hand curled, tighter against his lap.

And then you smiled.

Ushijima felt the world slow, silence flooding across the screen.

Your arrows fired off—again, again, and again. Each time you greeted the shooting range with a smile and left it with a frown, as though the parting, only seconds long, was already too much for your heart to bear. Your opponent remained unfazed, serious, but you smiled each shot, hitting dead center, dead center, bullseye.

The commentator’s voice was flooding with rapt emotion, though they tried to stay impartial. Everyone’s eyes were on you, a second commentator a touch critical over your confidence, hinting arrogance in your grin.

No. Ushijima wanted to correct, almost immediately, entirely entranced. Not arrogance. Not baseless confidence.

You loved it. Kyudo. Shooting—

Every last bit of it.

For a second the screen blurred. Ushijima saw the other end of the court, the ball connecting with his palm, his own lips barely turning up into a near breathless smile, almost fierce—

He wanted to play.

“Good,” his grandmother said. “She will advance next year. If she participated in the individual tournaments, I’m sure she’d do much better. She keeps playing for a team, such a shame.”

“(L/n)-san, it seems as though you were born for the sport!” his eyes quickly turned back to the screen. In an instant the crowd had cleared and you stood, calmly holding your bow as a commentator got your final words on the march. “You’re a true prodigy. What words do you have for any aspiring archers?”

(L/n). Ushijima thought. (L/n) (Y/n). A prodigy? He could imagine so, with the beautiful way you shot. It was as though you were made for the bow.

“I’m not a prodigy,” your voice cut, shooting straight through Ushijima and forcing his complete and utter attention back onto you. “Don’t get me wrong, I think plenty of people are born for this. Maybe you could say I was, if that’s how you want to see it. At the end of the day it’s work though, lots and lots and lots of it.”

You faced the screen, eyes shining, boring straight through Ushijima, as though speaking solely to him, even though you possibly couldn’t be.

“It’s luck,” you said, “I’m lucky nothing’s happened to keep me from being here. I’m lucky my parents haven’t tried to make me stop. Yet, at least. I just got lucky. Kyudo found me. It’s all luck.”

“Ushijima, why do you think we get to stand on this court? People like us?”

Because we’re—

Ushijima felt his chest tighten. His pulse raced, hard against his skin. The itch to move, to run, to play flooded through his entire body. He felt it all, simply by looking at you—the urge to play volleyball a hundred, a thousand times.

“There’s unrest that youths your age will have to focus more on studies instead of pursuing kyudo as a profession. Many find that as a sport, it does not hold up to — ”

“No way,” you said, looking offended. “I’m doing kyudo until I die.”

Ushijima imagined it then, his ball shooting across the court like an arrow, his spike sailing through the air, the same way your arrow pierced the target.

“Now, Wakatoshi,” his grandmother began. “I hear your career forms are going about next year. What exactly will you be writing on yours?”

“...volleyball,” Ushijima said, clear, resounding. His grandmother raised one fine brow, but he faced her, poised, polite, unyielding.

“I will continue playing volleyball.”

He’d remember your name. He’d remember you. If possible, he’d thank you as well. You both attended the same school—a chance would surely come.

For the record:

- The kyudo club ended up getting their funding, enough to see them through for several more years. You came to Ushijima (your boyfriend of one month) sobbing buckets over it and pawing at his jacket while he calmly rubbed your back and congratulated you. The donation was an anonymous one from a rather prestigious family familiar with the school.

- You come to the rest of Ushijima's games, your team makes it through prelims and he gets to watch you through the finals for your prefecture and has plans to go watch you at nationals.

(Spoilers for the latest chapters of the manga, proceed with caution or just end it here if you don't want to see the last headcanon!)

- Romero comments about the cool archery that Ushijima watches in his down time in the locker room. Hoshiumi and Kageyama mumble in surprise that someone like Ushijima could be interested in anything other than volleyball. Ushijima admits it was a very important person he became a fan of first before the sport. "I admired the athlete and then found myself watching."

"Wow, that's unexpected," Hoshiumi took a seat beside Ushijima on the bench. Romero continued to watch over his shoulder, clearly intrigued by the Japanese form of archery style. "Is this woman a pro?"

"Yes," Ushijima said, showing them the screen. Kageyama glanced over, catching the hint of pride in Ushijima's normally settled tone. "She's the best in Japan. She will be at the next Olympics for archery as well, even though she prefers this."

"I've never really watched archery," Kageyama said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"I've grown to admire it," Ushijima said. "I'm mostly a fan of the athlete."

"Who is she?" Hoshiumi said, squinting at the screen to look for a name. A wide, bright grin came over your lips and you thrusted your bow into the air. "What's her-"

"She's my girlfriend," Ushijima said calmly, without missing a beat.

Kageyama blinked, looking stunned. Hoshiumi's eyes bulged out of his head. They both looked at each other, jaws dropping.

"She's beautiful!" Romero laughed, clapping Ushijima over the shoulder. "Wakatoshi! Congratualtions! When's the wedding?"

Ushijima looked mildly bothered by the topic. "She says we're still too... young. I don't entirely agree."

"I get you! I get you! Some advice from a married man, you have to reel them in and..."

- You sneezed before the final round, shaking your head with a frown.

(Hope you enjoyed!)

#ko-fi requests #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x reader #tendou satori

[7wanderingpaws]

Simply, yours (6)

Pairing:  Baekhyun x reader

Genre: family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU

Word count: 2.7K

Warnings: none

A/N: Haha I laughed at the reactions for the last part! Yes, it is all happening huu! I cant wait to write even more! And thank you for giving me feedback, it honeslty makes me feel happy and motivated! ❤

tags: @milky-baek​ 💖 (Im so sorry if there were more people who asked, my list got messed up? Im so sorry again, if you want to be tagged pretty please comment on this post or write anon/dm, Im fine with all! Sorry again!! :((( )

MASTERLIST

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6

-

You left the doctors in deep silence.

None of you were capable to speak much, but there definitely was a lot to talk about, to discuss and probably re-think. Your mind was in an internal turmoil, and it seemed to be a vicious circle. What you just learned was something you would have never ever imagined before. That type of news was… news-worthy. Like television news worthy. From the excitement of the doctor, it easily could become reality.

You vividly imagined yourself talking to the reporter, the microphone of the broadcast station in your face as you tried to explain just how crazy your situation was. A poor countryside family (that didn't even tie the knot yet) expecting three…

Ridding your head of various scenarios, you entered the bus. Thankfully, there weren't many people as you entered the stuffy vehicle. Baekhyun quickly grabbed a single seat for you, wanting to stand right next to your side. Funnily, the one who constantly spoke and had an argument ready was now silent, deep in thought just like you. Glancing up at your boyfriend, he was holding the loop above his head, his gaze set on the road outside, but eyes unfocused. Who knew what was going on in his mind. Was it the same mess just like in yours?

Gnawing at your bottom lip and bunching up your skirt in your hands, you waited for him to look at you, to reciprocate the look. And after several seconds, he snapped out of his reverie and looked down at you, seeing your eyes bulging in scare. He smiled at you softly and widened his eyes at you as he pressed his lips tightly together, giving you a cute face.

You managed to lift one corner of your lips up and you dropped your gaze, reaching for his free hand in his pocket to hold on to, and he immediately complied. Squeezing yours tightly, you could sense he was worried, too. You rested your connected hands on your small tummy and you let out a little scoff in disbelief as you also looked out the window. Belly was small, but soon would be huge, bearing three lives.

Just how long could you prolong your silence at your workplace?

You only had few weeks left.

-

Once the doors of your apartment closed behind you two, you wrapped your arms around Baekhyun's neck, pulling him close to you, burying your head in the crook between his neck and shoulder. He didn't hesitate to hug you back, squeezing your aching body as gently yet as persistently as he only could to show you he was there for you.

“Baekhyun,” you whispered, the sound muffled, your breath hot on his skin. “Just what will we do?”

This time he also hid his face in your shoulder, while his other hand came up to rest on the back of your head. “We can do this. This is…” he hesitated before gently pulling back to gaze into your teary eyes, “a blessing. For me. For us.”

Momentarily, you closed your eyes and let his honest words sink in. He was right, of course. If everything would go well, you were heading into a family filled with happiness and lots of children's laughter. “It is, darling. But money-wise-”

“Don't even start,” he retorted gently and cupped your cheek. “That is not something we should focus on right now.”

You frowned. “How should I not focus on it when we barely live with what we have now? And we are two adults, Baekhyun. We need a lot of things for one child, can you imagine the amount of money that goes into three?”

“First, we need to sign up for the governmental support, but I am more than sure that is automatically given once you give birth,” he reasoned rationally, not letting your frown break his stance. “Second, you need to chill, okay? Leave it up to me, I know what I am doing.”

“You need to enlighten me, because I won't be able to chill otherwise.”

“You know I am soon done with my PhD. The position of the professor is literally months away,” he replied hurriedly, “we will manage, honey. I will give my everything to you, to them.”

“But I want to give as well,” you protested, stubborn. “I also want to provide for us, Baekhyun.”

“Well, you are doing just that, aren't you?” he asked, confused at your scared face. “C'mon, you are acting like you are going to get kicked out for being pregnant.”

That shut you up very quickly. Shit. He had no idea you would get sacked the moment your boss as much as sniffed pregnancy.

“You can work until you can, until your body is able to… as much as I hate to say it. I don't want to lock you down just because of your state, sweetie, hm?”

His words touched your heart, but he would soon find out he didn't have to do it because you would do it for him by losing your job. You wanted to laugh. 

“And then you will take the maternity leave. If you can work from home, even better, right?” Baekhyun kept going on, his features brightening.

You nodded, fazed. This was something you probably should resolve by yourself and very quickly. The last thing your wanted was for Baekhyun to provide for five people all by himself.

After few seconds of silence, he let you go. “Go change into something comfy, hm? I will prepare food, you need to eat.”

Standing still, you watched him move around your tiny kitchen, opening the cabinets, preparing plates, heating up food - when he sensed your unmoving body, he turned, and looked at you, perplexed. He called your name softly before coming back to you. “What's the matter?”

Staring at him, you were speechless. So you shook your head.

He chuckled quietly before cradling your neck and bringing your head close so he could give you a lasting kiss on your forehead. “My pregnant little lady.”

You scoffed. “Not little for too long.”

He laughed and his eyes shone when he looked at you, squeezing your cheeks. “Can you imagine? This young cheeky lady, and three babies inside.”

“Baekhyun,” you murmured, rolling your eyes. Your murmur came out funnily as he was still squeezing your cheeks, letting out a little yelp.

“But you are just so cute? How is that possible? Shit, you will be even cuter when the babies will grow!”

You sighed, realising he was in one of those fever moments when he just had to vent out his racing thoughts, be it whatever. “I will be an elephant soon.”

“A cute elephant. An elephant lady to her Dumbo boy?” he quirked his eyebrows and moved his ears back and forth, making you laugh out loud.

“You're unbelievable,” you giggled.

“There it is,” he murmured, affectionate gaze grazing your smiling features.

“Hmm?”

Slowly, he let his thumb trace your stretched out mouth and the soft wrinkles around your eyes. “The smile. The genuine smile. You look gorgeous with it, sweetheart. Whatever it is that is on your mind, vent it all out to me, okay?” he lowered himself a bit so he was on the same eve-level with you. “By no means keep it to yourself. We are in this together.”

You stayed silent for a moment, before saying: “I love you so much.”

He sighed, almost in relief, before bringing you into another hug. “And I love you, much much more.”

When the food was prepared and both you and Baekhyun were changed into comfy clothes, he sat you down onto his lap, both of you munching on the soup.

“This reminds me that one time we drove a truck and sat in the backside, trying not to fall out on the dirt road,” said Baekhyun before slurping on his soup.

You hummed, swallowing your portion. “You mean when you asked me to sit on your lap? And hold onto your sweaty chest?”

He gave you a cheeky grin. “Exactly that one. Just wanted to sweep that pretty young girl off of her feet, straight into my arms,” he sing-sang.

You giggled, remembering that time very well.

It happened before his enlistment. 

The day was scorching hot, creating droplets of sweat on your forehead within minutes of being exposed to the strong sunshine. Your uniform was plastered to your body, but thankfully no one could tell just how hot you were. Probably a big part of it could have been because of that gorgeous boy who was, of course, very well known in your village and the surrounding areas. The hapkido master and charmer who is able to make heads turn within a heartbeat, all for him.

That day he was working around your school and he happened to be finishing his work in the late afternoon just when you were leaving your classroom and heading outside, prepared for the long walk.

You knew Baekhyun. Your family knew Baekhyun. He was a trust-worthy young man and he also lived in the house next to yours. You might have shared few chickens as they were wandering around the shared space. So when he asked if you needed a ride home, you replied with a bright smile, your heart jumping like crazy, your mind racing with possibilities of what he might do. Would he give you a smile? Of course, he would. He was Baekhyun. And he reserved the sweetest of smiles only for you. They were breathtaking and made you feel like you were the only person on this planet. You wanted to share him never.

His colleague driving, you and him climbed on the back to enjoy the breeze throughout the drive but  there were no seats and your skirt was surely short. Baekhyun had had long taken of his sweaty shirt, his toned body glistening under the sunrays. He sat down on the edge with his knees politely connected before he patted the top of his thighs. “Come, sit here,” he said as the car moved and your skirt almost blew upwards before you and him both reached for the hem of it to keep it down.

You blushed a deep red and he gave you a lopsided grin before he gently placed his hands on your hips and helped you lower on his lap, his arm protectively around your back, his hand resting on your hip. His touch was burning through the material, but his breath which was so close to yours was scorching. The pull was strong, yet you didn't dare to look at him right away, feeling his searching gaze on you.

“How is high school?” he started, his voice light. To make sure you wouldn't fall, he placed his other arm over your thighs and looked at you curiously.

Your hands were folded in your lap, and you felt how he purposefully moved the hand closer so your hands would brush and rest against each other. You itched your hand just a tiny bit closer. “It's okay. Too bad the previous seniors are already gone,” you replied, boldly looking him in the eyes, referring to him. “Would have been more interesting to be at school.”

He chuckled boyishly, sending electric waves down your body. “Honest girl, I see.” He looked ahead for a bit before looking back at you again. “That's what I like. It's a shame, indeed. Would have liked to meet you on the corridors of the school.”

Would have loved to kiss you in the dark corner of the corridors, you thought, the idea so sweet you felt the pull in your insides. Ah, not now, don't think about it now! He is right here!

“When are you enlisting?”

“In a couple of months,” he replied. You expected him to grow dull at the idea, but he was still cheerful.

You smiled. “Seems like you are looking forward to it?”

“I love sports and I want to become a real man,” he admitted, laughing. There was a bigger bump on the road, making both of you jump up, his arm tightening around you in reflex which caused him to pull you even closer. Your faces were so, so close.

“I will miss you, though,” you mumbled sheepishly, not caring about almost falling off the car.

“I will come back, hm? It doesn't last forever,” he replied, still gentle in voice. Noticing your sour expression, he said: “ Now there,  I don't want to see that face,” he spoke gently, his face even closer now as you ever so slightly lifted your downcast gaze to meet his dark orbs. “You look beautiful when you smile.” And I think I want to kiss you.

But you might not be ready yet.

-

Sighing in content, you snuggled closer to Baekhyun as you fell asleep right after food. He realised quickly that the happenings of the day must have caught up with you, because by the end of lunch your head was dropping on his shoulder.

Tucking you in the bed, he pulled out his phone while he had you curled up by his chest, your head just under his chin, while his arm was your pillow. In that hand, he was holding his phone and scrolling through some information from the government that could give you help but as much as he scrolled he only got positive news. Although you wouldn't be receiving much, you sure would be getting some cash as a thank you, since the country was doing terribly in terms of birth rate.

Baekhyun was silent, except some random hums that would softly leave his throat, but nothing that would disturb you in your peaceful slumber. His free hand was caressing your back soothingly, slowly he would drag his palm up between your shoulder blades where he would make a circle and than go all the way to the small of your back, reaching the hem of your shirt, where he added more pressure, knowing your lower back was giving you a hard time already.

He was very excited about the news. Of course, it was only natural they caught him off-guard but he just wanted many kids with you and make a happy family like he always imagined. The fact that fate provided this all at once was a sign for him and he was not going to be the one ruining it. And he would make sure he was there for you during each step.

Even if your mind was troubled, you were sleeping rather contently in the arms of your man and his caressings were what you woke up to. Ever so slightly, you lifted your head to have a look at his focused stare illuminated by the screen of his smartphone. He was studying something, and even though he felt you stirring, his caressing had yet to cease.

You reached up with your puckered lips and gave his chin a gentle kiss, signalling him you were up.

He hummed, not looking down at you. “Sleeping beauty is up.”

“Sorry I fell asleep like that,” you whispered, not wanting to disturb the bubble between you two.

“Why are you apologising?” he whisper-asked back, now locking his phone and letting it fall from his hand to look at your pale face. “You must be so tired, honey. I like us being like this.”

You raised your eyebrows in question at his sudden confession.

He smiled gently and gave your nose a sweet kiss. “Lying in bed, you sleeping and probably the babies too, and I'm here looking over you guys.”

His words touched your heart. “Yes. I feel the safest when I am with you.” You caressed his cheek affectionately and he gave you a smile before grabbing his phone to go back to researching.

“Go, sleep some more, sweetie,” he said. “We have work tomorrow, so let's make sure you rest plenty.”

You bit your lip, hiding your face in his chest right away, the thought of entering work tomorrow quite scary.

Mulling whether you should tell Sukyeong about your situation and ask for her advice, you found yourself drifting back into another slumber.

Telling her would maybe ease your worrying heart.

But it wouldn't save your job for sure.

And that was the problem.

#baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun au #baekhyun fic #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun imagine #exo imagine #exo fluff #exo fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #kpop au #exo au #mywritings

[catherine-parr-1512]

Dramatic Twist Chapter 2

For the whole of Saturday, Cathy was anxious. She couldn't wait to go to Anne's house and practice the scene together but at the same time, the possibility of the two of them kissing at the end made her scared. As far as Cathy knew, Anne was straight, always having a boyfriend with her - the whole school knew. And yet, a very optimistic part of her wanted Anne all for herself.

All those thoughts led her to Anne's house at 5.50 - 10 minutes before she was supposed to be there but she was too excited to stay in her house for 5 more minutes. She told her mother in the morning that she would be going to her friend's house (even if they weren't really friends) and her mother didn't even ask for their name, assuming that it was either Catalina or Jane as Cathy wasn't really friends with someone else.

Cathy knocked on the door and waited impatiently, nervously clutching her bag closer to her and stomping her left foot in place, hoping to relieve some tension and nerves. After what must have been 20 seconds but for Cathy felt like hours, the door opened revealing Anne Boleyn. Smiling Anne Boleyn. Smiling Anne Boleyn who looked hot, as always. Her red lipstick on point even though she was not going anywhere, her black hair was laid in gentle waves on her shoulders, white and green t-shirt hugging her closely and black leggings which showed the shape of her legs quite well if you ask Cathy.

 Thankfully, Boleyn ushered her into the house and Cathy was grateful for it because she was unable to speak at the moment. They sat in the living room and immediately started rehearsing the scene. They quickly went through the stuff they did yesterday and slowly approached the part where two of them would kiss. Cathy became more nervous than before so she was startled by Anne when she banged her head loudly on the table.

"UGH! Why do we have to have such a creep for a teacher? Really? Watching two barely legal teenagers kiss in the class." Anne moaned loudly

"I know. It's not like you would…" Stopped Cathy not wanting to presume anything even though she suspected the answer.

"You think I wouldn't like kissing a girl? There is no problem with that." Started Anne and then blushed. She blushed and Cathy was shocked. Anne Boleyn never blushed nor was nervous. "I'm… I'm bisexual so I have no problem with it. I'm fine whether it's a nice boy or a cute girl. It's not like I have much experience with girls… Not even one." Cathy was shocked. It turns out that Anne is not as straight as she thought and Cathy had a chance with her.

"You know, even though I'm lesbian, I have only been with one girl, last summer to be exact. So I'm not really an expert either haha." Cathy chuckled softly at the end, trying to make the situation calmer. Her words got the desired effect as Anne's face returned slowly to her normal shade and she smiled at Cathy. A beautiful smile that made Cathy's heart flutter a little.

“I guess we’re both noobs then.” Joked Anne and Cathy just had to laugh at it. Soon, Anne joined her and they both ended up on the floor, crying and laughing at nothing really for a few minutes straight.

When they stopped, Cathay looked towards Anne, catching her gaze. Anne’s green eyes were shining and they looked very different from what Cathy was used to. Usually, Anne’s eyes were dullish green, shining from time to time and yet, lacking something in them. If she would look more into them, she could get lost in them and she knew there would be no coming back from that, she was slowly falling for Anne Boleyn, her attraction towards the green-eyed girl growing stronger in just 2 evenings they have spent together. People say that love comes from the eyes and even though she might not love Anne yet, she knew why she would love her, her eyes showing the things that sometimes you might miss. Things nobody notices, the emotions that are always changing and those emerald green eyes, the most beautiful thing Cathy has ever seen, belonging to the most beautiful person in the world. Anne smiled softly, locking eyes with Cathy. She then got up and extended her hand towards the brown-eyed girl, helping her to get up. When Cathy touched her hand, she felt as if electricity ran through her and she immediately became addicted, not wanting to let go off Anne’s warm hand.

“I think we have to work on the scene.” Whispered softly Anne, looking at Cathy and waiting for her answer.

“Yes, we should.” She replied simply.

The two started from the beginning, the scene moving as smoothly as possible, their chemistry giving them a great advantage. Finally, the time for the kiss has come. Cathy felt her hands starting to sweat a little, her heart beating faster and faster as they approached the long-awaited moment. When it was time, she looked towards Anne, locking eyes with her yet again. Cathy noticed that Anne’s eye pupils were bigger than before and she hoped it was because of some sort of desire. Neither said anything for a minute, enjoying looking at each other as if they were the only two people on the planet.

“May I kiss you, Cathy?” Whispered Anne breaking the silence between the two. Cathy, instead of replying with words, replied with actions.

The curly-haired girl moved forward and immediately locked her mouth with Anne. She tasted divine from the first second. They started kissing, neither backing down and it was clear from the start that it was no longer a kiss from their scene. Their kiss was full of passion, their mouths being two pieces of the puzzle that just clicked so right. Cathy moved her hands across Anne’s body, not stopping at a single place for long. Her hands moved from the neck, back, Anne’s hair, her lower back and then repeating the motion again. Anne was doing the same with her. Cathy felt as she was growing warmer and warmer with each second spent but she didn’t care, becoming simply addicted to the kiss. They pulled away for a moment to catch their breaths, Anne and Cathy panting heavily. They were still in a close embrace and their faces just inches away. Anne grinned and started kissing Cathy again, this time her hands going lower, making Cathy more aroused. The curly-haired girl decided to not stay behind and put her hands under Anne’s t-shirt, touching her skin and feeling it tense under her touch. If she wasn’t occupied with a kiss, she would surely grin like a cat. They were exploring their bodies and suddenly, Cathy ended up on a couch being straddled by Anne, the kissing intensifying between the two. Cathy loved Anne’s taste and couldn’t wait to taste more… The green-eyed girl decided to move her attention from Cathy’s lips and move towards her neck, sucking slowly, making Cathy moan in pleasure. Anne stayed like that for a few minutes, making sure to leave a mark and then moved lower towards Cathy’s collarbone. From there, she went as far down as she could before Cathy’s blue t-shirt became her obstacle, kissing Cathy along the way. The curly-haired girl was playing with Anne’s hair, whispering to her how she loves what she’s doing with her which only seemed to encourage Anne. Suddenly the green-eyed girl pulled away and looked deeply into Cathy’s eyes which made Cathy confused why she stopped. Suddenly, she grinned, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Do you want to take this upstairs?” She asked quietly, still looking straight at Cathy who just blinked and then kissed her on the lips, biting her lower lip.

“I thought you would never ask.” She replied jokingly before kissing Anne harder than before. The two then started making their way to Anne’s bedroom, green eyes girl leading the way while they were still kissing and losing various pieces of clothing along the way…

Cathy woke up to something warm lying next to her. ‘Or someone’ she thought to herself with a smile as she remembered last night and being grateful for texting her mother when she had a chance, asking if she can stay the night at her friend’s house, her mother agreeing without question.

Cathy opened her eyes and saw Anne lying next to her, covered in quite a few love marks on her where Cathy could see her and she knew there were more underneath the covers. She smiled and moved towards the taller girl who was still sleeping and gently kissed her on a cheek and snuggled into her, placing her head on Anne’s shoulder. The sudden movement has woken up green-eyed girl as she started murmuring something to herself and Cathy smiled as she saw her slowly coming to life - her wavy hair being a beautiful mess, her lipstick a little bit smudged from all the kisses and when she opened her eyes, her beautiful green eyes were shining with energy from the moment she woke up. The whole sight made Cathy’s heart warm, longing to see this sight more often.

“Ah good morning you beautiful nerd.” Joked Anne, pulling Cathy closer towards her and kissing her head softly, a totally different kiss than the ones they shared yesterday but the brown-eyed girl loved it nonetheless. Maybe she was just addicted to Anne’s kisses? If yes, she would gladly stay addicted to them.

“Good morning to you too.” Said Cathy between lazy kisses she placed on Anne’s lips, both humming with content.

“So… I don’t want to bring down the mood but it seems like you don’t regret yesterday, right?” Asked a green-eyed girl, strangely unsure of herself. Cathy thought back to last night (especially the pain in her legs), their previous study sessions and everything she knew about Anne and she made up her mind.  

“I could never regret it… It was… well, different than everything I have ever experienced and I loved every minute of it. But I also loved our study sessions in the last two days. They showed me that…” Started Cathy but Anne decided to finish it.

“That there is some connection between us.”

“Exactly what I wanted to say.” Mused Cathy with a smile, still being pressed against the taller girl who stroked her head and played with her curls.

“I really don’t want it to be the only time we did it too… I think we could work out our differences and maybe this could become something more?” Cathy could hear the hope clearly in Anne’s voice and she knew that she didn’t want to break the girl’s heart in any way possible.

“That’s a great idea, I would be honoured, Anne Boleyn.” Said Cathy and kissed Anne slowly on her lips, taking a sweet moment to show her that she meant it. They started kissing more passionately for a while, their skin touching in many places, the atmosphere in the room getting heavier with each second. Anne, just like last night, pulled away first.

“Thank you, Catherine Parr.” Her eyes were smiling as she said those words. “Call me Cathy Parr. Just like all people close to me.” Cathy replied with a gentle smile, kissing Anne a little bit more.

Next Friday the drama class came where they had to perform their scene. They also had to sit with their partners so Catalina and Jane sat together at the front of the class, Howard and Cleves sat in the middle while Boleyn and Cathy sat at the back.

Catalina hasn’t seen her friend in almost a week, the girl saying that she needs to study for drama. Catalina feared the worst - that Boleyn somehow messed up and now her dear friend had to study more to somehow get an even better grade in drama.

She and Jane already went and did their scene, same with the rest of the class, leaving only Cathy and Boleyn. When Mr Cromwell read out their names, the two stood up without a complaint, surprising the whole class and especially Catalina who furrowed her brows in confusion.

Then they started their scene and Catalina was shocked, the whole thing went as if they rehearsed it hundreds of times. Each of their movements calculated and just in time when they were supposed to do it, each word said with emotion behind it. The two of them approached each other as if they were to kiss but they simply stared at themselves and then suddenly bowing to the rest of the class, earning applause from everyone except for Mr Cromwell who looked like he ate a lemon, a grimace shown on his face while he said that they got A for their scene. The two girls high-fived each other (shocking almost everyone) and then giggling together as they moved back to their seats (Catalina thought that Jane got a heart attack). Catalina needed answers, as soon as possible.

In the next few weeks, the relationship between Cathy and Anne (or Annie as Cathy decided to call her) bloomed beautifully. They still had some disagreements but they worked really hard to solve them, the two supporting each other. Cathy met Anne’s parents - Thomas and Elizabeth Boleyn, while Anne met her mother Maud Green-Parr who raised her after the death of her father, also named Thomas when she was younger. They introduced their friends to each other, hoping for the best and they soon became a group of six girls, each different and yet the same in some ways, becoming closer with themselves with each passing day. After a month of meeting up, Anne asked Cathy if she wanted to become her girlfriend and the curly-haired could only say yes and kiss her in reply, thanking fate for bringing this chaotic gremlin to her life, becoming a very important part of her life and she wouldn’t change anything about Anne.

#parrlyn #six the musical #anne boleyn #catherine parr

[ramblings-of-a-foolish-mortal]

Constellations in your soul - C2

///Preface: this chapter has dissociation and some self deprecation in it. After releasing the first chapter I realized that some warnings might be in order so that people who are sensitive to the topic don’t suffer because of it. I hope you enjoy it and as always, comments and suggestions are welcome. :)///

 Sirius sat on a toilet lid in the abandoned bathroom, holding up his arm up in an uncomfortable position while holding his shirt in his lap. Remus had spent a solid 10 minutes inspecting him to see what injuries there were before he’d even started to put Sirius back together. Remus held a grimace on his face and briefly brought his sleeved hand to his nose, like trying to wipe away a scent or a smell. 

“Jeez, blood has a strong smell…” his grimace faded as he rolled up his sleeves, kneeling back to get a better look at what he was doing. 

   “So, remind me why we never use magic to do this?” Sirius leaned back a bit before Remus gently reminded him he needed to sit up straight for this. Haha, straight.

   “Because healing spells are complicated, and while I may be smart I’m not about to rearrange your ribcage for something I could easily do with my hands.” Remus frowned as he spoke, mumbling things under his breath as he took note of them. His face scrunched up a little bit when he was concentrating, and his eyes remained focused on his target. His intense glare was one you didn’t usually want to be on the receiving end of, and it was pointed right at Sirius’ chest. Right now, he appeared to be trying to glare Sirius’ injuries out of existence. “What happened to make her this mad? I thought she doesn’t usually beat you like this unless she thought you did something?” Remus’ voice cracked when he said ‘beat’ like it caused him pain just to think about it. 

Aww, you really think he cares about you Sirius. He just feels obligated to help you, you’re a burden in his life and thorn in his side. 

   I know…

 “Uh- It wasn’t really anything bad,” Sirius shifted to prop his arm up on the water tank of the toilet, “She got upset at Regulus because he burnt the bacon, but I distracted him. At least, that’s what I told her, so she got mad at me. It’s not really that-!” Sirius growled quietly when Remus pressed on his side, pain flaring up his side and in his lungs. Shit that hurt… 

   “Sorry,” Remus muttered as he stood, walking over to an empty stall at the end of the row and coming back with a briefcase full of muggle first aid supplies. They’d hid it in here last year when Sirius had first explained what his family was like. Remus was very astute and had noticed Sirius consistently sleeping on his stomach and changing in the bathroom rather than the dorm, like the other boys (among other things like pained expressions and groaning in his sleep, which Sirius had no memory of doing.) Remus pulled out bruise cream and started spreading it across Sirius’ back and chest. 

   Sirius felt his face flush, looking up at the ceiling. “Take me on a date first, Remus.” A small, possibly awkward laugh left him, immediately replaced with a grimace as his ribs shifted slightly. Great… now he thinks I’m weird. I mean, he probably already did. I’m so fucking awkward why am I like this? 

  It’s because you’re worthless. Awkward? Closer to repulsive. He’s seen you beaten and bruised and broken so many times. Do you honestly think he still sees you the same way as before? Sirius’ grimace faded as he stared at the ceiling. 

    He cares, I know he cares. If he didn’t, he would’ve run away a long time ago. 

    PLEASE. You, James, and Peter are the only people who would accept him for being a werewolf. He’s got it SO much worse than you, and yet you make him take care of you. Bend to your whim.

   Just shut up…

   “Sirius, are you alright? “ Remus looked up at him from his crouching position at his side. Sirius looked down at him, leaning forward slightly. 

   “Yeah?” Remus held his eyes for a moment, studying Sirius for a moment, then offered him back his shirt. 

   “I finished. Your shirt might stick a little bit, but once your skin absorbs it you should be good. We’ll want to change the bandages on the cuts in a couple days.” Remus smiled slightly, offering Sirius a hand. Sirius took it, pulling himself up. 

   “Wait, there were cuts?” Sirius frowned slightly. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think I felt any cuts… “ Remus gently touched Sirius’ back, right between his shoulder blades. 

   “Yeah, there were some right here, and a couple on your upper shoulder. Make sure not to move your arms too much. At least as best as you can.”

   “Yes, Nurse.” Sirius sent a smirk at Remus before trying to pull his shirt on, face immediately contorting into a pained expression when his arms went over his head. Remus laughed quietly. 

   “Aww, do you need help getting your shirt on?” Sirius glared at him, pulling his shirt down, huffing quietly. “I’ve been reading a First Aid book published by a muggle health organization. It’s incredibly informative. I really enjoyed reading it too.” Remus let himself smile while closing, clipping, and rehiding the bag of First Aid supplies. 

   “You’re such a nerd, Remus. I mean, why would you read when you can climb trees or flirt.” Sirius waited until Remus was next to him to start walking back to the dorms with him. 

   “Because I find books much more enjoyable than people. They’re quiet, usually, and don’t require me to move very much. Pair that with the inevitable social interaction required when surrounded by other people, I tend to avoid people when I can.” Remus glanced over at Sirius as he spoke. Sirius had to tilt his head up slightly to look at Remus’ face, noticing how his hair reflected the torchlight. Well hot damn, I’m just too gay for this shit.

   Sirius laughed at himself quietly, and they walked the rest of the way to the dorm in comfortable silence. Once Sirius climbed into bed, he carefully laid on his back and stared at the ceiling, thoughts racing through his mind as everything from How can I frustrate Professor McGonigal tomorrow to Should I leave James and Remus and Peter so they can finally have some peace? 

   His thoughts continued to wander as he fell asleep, pulling the blankets up another inch or two before drifting off.

   While Sirius lay sleeping, Remus lay awake in his bed, trying to distract himself from the repetitive image of Sirius’ bruised and welted chest. Under different circumstances, Remus would’ve been incredibly embarrassed and flustered touching Sirius like that, but the bruises, cuts, welts, and scars had him in a significantly darker mood. Why would they hurt Sirius like that… actually, nevermind, they’re bastards with no souls. The better question is: Why does Sirius put himself in harm's way like that. He knows he’ll get it worse than Regulus, but yet he still chooses to take the blame for things, even small things. This is the worst I’ve seen him injured since second year…

Remus frowned at the memory of Sirius laying in his bed, asleep and severely injured. That day he’d traveled via firepit to Remus’ house after having almost been beaten to death by his own mother. 

He could remember clearly the moment when he ran downstairs to see what had caused such a loud thump in his living room and panicked at the sight of Sirius covered in blood and bruises. It had taken quite a bit of both muggle remedies and magic to heal Sirius. They were lucky Remus’ mother knew First Aid and his father had become acquainted with healing spells through his work. He’d sat by Sirius for days, making sure he was okay, keeping him safe, getting him water and food and anything else he needed. Remus had been glaring at the wall with such fervor he’d given himself a headache. He groaned quietly, turning to his other side. He could hear Sirius breathing and chose to focus on that. The steadiness of his breath was calming, though Remus heard him occasionally heard Sirius’ breath hitch in his chest when he inhaled too deeply, heaven forbid he have a good night’s rest. I will have to invest more time in First Aid. It’s quite useful… 

Remus closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep, after a long time of his mind disobeying him, he started to ease into foggy rest.

A few weeks had passed since the first day of the term without much transpiring in the way of excitement. James was still preparing for his first big stunt of the year, and Sirius had been busy helping him. They hadn’t gone to bed until late the previous night due to planning what had to be their biggest, awesomest project yet, a map that would be able to track the students and teacher. One only they would be able to use. 

Because of the late-night, and subsequent awful sleep, Sirius woke up at the unholy hour of 05:00 AM. He didn’t normally rise this early, but after waking up in a cold sweat from a nightmare he wasn’t too eager to go back to sleep either. Slowly, he sat up and blinked slowly. His mind and body felt like they were dry and stiff, not wanting to move exactly when he needed them to, and he felt phantom pains from the dream stacked on his physical injuries. While fighting his lethargy, he got out of bed while grimacing as his rib cage shifted, then rummaged through his suitcase, yet to be unpacked, and then padded towards the bathrooms. His hair was likely a mess, but that would be fixed with a shower. And if it was still knotted, well, Remus was the only person he really let mess with his hair. James pulled too hard and hurt him, and Peter was so clumsy that the one time Sirius had let him touch his hair, it’d ended up so mangled it took Remus 3 hours to untangle. Sirius opened the doors to the bathroom, beginning to wash himself off. The water slowly woke him up enough to function, though there was still this lingering fog similar to silt covering his mind. A thought hit him in the middle of washing his hair, Today is gonna be shit… He frowned, frustratedly glaring at the wall. No, today is going to be FINE. I’m going to go to class like every morning. I’ll joke around with James, flirt with some people, and it will be good.

He stayed in the shower for another several minutes, simply because he felt like he didn’t have the energy to leave. When he finally gathered himself, he wasted more time while drying off. By the time he’d finally made it back to the boy's dorm room to put his dirty nightclothes in a basket by his bed, the other boys were up. One look at Remus told Sirius he hadn’t slept well either. They exchanged a mutual look of ‘You too, huh?’, before Remus broke eye contact to pull his sweater over his shirt. Remus had a tendency to only be semi-functional in the morning and preferred not to speak until after breakfast.

Sirius walked over to his nightstand to grab his brush, reaching out and halting when his hand closed around nothing. It’s not here… He glanced around the room and saw Remus holding it up in one hand while smiling slightly. Ah, there it is. Sirius sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Remus while James threw himself on Remus’ bed. Remus brushed out Sirius’ hair, occasionally using his fingers to untangle knots the brush wouldn’t pull through easily. 

 “You guys look absolutely awful. I keep forgetting you’re grouchy in the mornings.” James turned to lay on his back, watching Remus’ expression pass through 3 or 4 emotions before settling on mild dissatisfaction. Most people probably wouldn’t have noticed but, well, James had been his friend for 4 years and picked up on some things. Sirius knocked on the top of James’ head, grabbing his attention. 

   “Well, you see, James, when two people-” Sirius had a grin on his face before Remus cut him off. 

   “Late night, little sleep, you’re a baby,” Remus spoke in a quiet mumble, probably still half asleep. 

   “Yeah, you’re one to talk James. If you don’t get your beauty sleep you’re grumpy all day! At least Remus turns functional after 3 gallons of coffee.” Sirius grinned as he spoke, though it was partially to cover up concern. He knew Remus hadn’t gotten to sleep until the small hours of the morning. I wish I could add more hours to the night, or knock him out. He might actually get some decent sleep if we drugged him… Remus poked the hairbrush over Sirius’ shoulder, catching Sirius’ eye and pulling him out of his train of thought.

   “Here.” It came out barely audible as Sirius moved out of the way so that Remus could pull on his shoes. “Breakfast… Coffee… Tired… “ Remus shoved his hands in his pockets and started to trudge down the stairs. Sirius watched him leave, eyes trailing from his back to his muted and messy blond hair. He’s frickin’ adorable when he’s tired… Sirius smiled slightly, then glanced to his side where James had been only a few moments before, though now there was only an empty spot on the bed. Did he already go down to breakfast? Or did he go to flirt with Evans? Sirius stood up, walking into the common room just in time to see Lily telling off James for being a bother this early in the morning. 

 Sirius felt himself smile when he saw James trying to look sincere while staring at Lily with doe eyes. For some reason, James seemed to think it was hot when she was angry, though Sirius didn’t really understand it. He turned, continuing towards the Great Hall for breakfast, climbing out of the porthole and meandering down the hallway towards their normal spot for breakfast. Remus had all but claimed the spot as solely theirs. Even though he was so tired and usually the last one awake, he was also the first person to breakfast every day. Well, almost every day. Sirius glanced at the portraits on the wall, letting his thoughts drift. He knew Peter probably wouldn’t be there until the last 10 minutes, considering he wouldn’t be waking up for another 30 minutes at least. Sirius felt the smile melt from his face while looking at the portraits on the wall, a kind of quiet resignation worming its way into his brain. These wizards have all done great things. Only half of them have gone to Hogwarts but all of them have made some kind of great achievement… I’ll never make it on this wall… or into someone else’s wall, I won’t be on my own wall in my room by the time I’m old enough to move away… His body stiffened for a moment. I won’t be on my own wall… Since when did he want to be on his own bloody family tree? Since when did he want to be part of his own piece-of-shit family in his whole life? He turned, walking the rest of the way to the Great Hall. Of course, you want to be on your own wall, with the rest of your family. You’re just like them. Manipulative, hurtful, abusive. You’re so full of yourself you’re constantly playing the victim because nothing is ever your fault. How many other kids in this hall do you think have parents like yours? Probably all of them. They don’t have the kind of money your family does, they don’t have your kind of house, your parents' jobs, your siblings, the noble life. You’ve got it so much better than them and yet you think you have it bad? What kind of pathetic kid are you?

 Sirius’ nails bit into his palms as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He knew the voice was right, but what could he do about it now? He’d already told Remus 2 years ago. His skin crawled at his own deceptions. I made Remus worry about me. I whined to him about my problems even though he has worse problems than any of us. Especially me.  His thoughts turned and tumbled through his mind until they seemed to fade out. Like turning translucent. He watched the doors to the Great Hall pass overhead while his head grew lighter and his emotions turned into a little ball of chalk in his chest, compressed and hard and out of the way. He sat down at the table, sending a smile to Remus out of habit. Remus will worry… He didn’t talk most of breakfast, though he wasn’t incoherent. He frowned slightly when breakfast was over. I thought… I just sat down to eat. My food is gone… I guess I ate… Sirius stood up, watching his plate disappear before walking to his first class of the day, his satchel slung over his shoulder. I hope I can pay attention…

Almost an hour later he was finally able to start paying attention to his class, jotting down messy notes while flipping to a page in his Potions book. Sometimes he'd get spacey like he had earlier today, which was a pain because he had trouble focusing when he did that, and then he'd have to catch up on notes… which inevitably meant extra work. A mental groan pushed into his thoughts, along with yet another round of awful thoughts. Why won’t you just shut up for a while, huh? It’s not like I’m a COMPLETE failure. I have decent grades, at least. It’s hard to focus with all the noise in my head. He quietly growled at his papers, frustrated at his own lack of attention. Maybe I’ll just live under a bridge and join a troll. Or I’ll live as a stray dog. At least then I won’t take up unnecessary space. At least- His thoughts were interrupted by Remus touching his arm. Little bits of electricity raced around where Remus touched the fabric of Sirius’ shirt as he shifted his gaze from the parchment to Remus’ perfect face.

    “Are you okay?” Remus spoke quietly, mostly mouthing the words. His touch on Sirius’ arm lightened like he was about to pull away. Sirius nodded, then shot him a winning grin.

   “Ooh, Remus. It’s so nice to know you worry about me, but I’m fine.” Sirius purposefully made it sound flirty, letting his eyes close a little while pushing a small smirk. Remus arched an eyebrow at Sirius in what seemed to be suspicion or maybe just irritation. Sirius watched Remus for only a moment but felt his smirk turn into a smile, turning back to his work. “Really, I’m okay. Thank you for asking, though.” As he turned back to his work, his mind felt clearer, though he felt strangely cold once Remus retracted his hand, returning to his work. As Sirius continued taking notes and working, he felt more at peace with Remus there. He knew that Remus cared, and he knew Remus would be there if he ever needed him.

 The thoughts didn’t entirely go away for the day but it got easier to ignore them, or at least make them quieter. Most of the day passed tediously slow, except the few times he got spacey again, as opposed to the first class that had passed almost in the blink of an eye. Sirius couldn’t even remember concretely if he’d actually gone to those classes, though he was sure he had because he had a nonsense compilation of notes from all the classes combined into an incomprehensible document. It wasn’t until after dinner that he realized how tired he was. He’d spent all day either on the run between classes that were on opposite ends of the castle or trying to be coherent in class while spacing out. As he started walking back to Gryffindor Tower, James smacked the back of his head as he ran past Sirius. Snapped out of his stupor, Sirius glared at him while smiling.

 “You DIDN’T.” Sirius felt his smile grow wider before Remus stepped up next to him and took his bag. After a brief smile of thanks to Remus, Sirius took off after James, chasing him down the hall and dodging around people.

 “Get him back for me, Sirius!” Peter called out to Sirius, cupping his hands so Sirius would hear him. Remus smiled slightly, glancing over at Peter for a moment.

 “They are pretty ridiculous.” Remus shifted Sirius’ bag higher on his shoulder as he spoke. Peter let Remus have the moment before hesitantly opening his mouth to speak.

 “Hey, Remus?” Peter glanced up, raising his head quite a bit to see Remus’ face, which was almost an entire head taller. “How far away until the next visit to the shack?” Remus’ face lost the smile. Their group had started referring to full-moons as ‘visits to the shack’ in an effort to normalize their conversations about it without letting everyone in a general vicinity know about Remus’ condition. Remus let out a quiet sigh, seeming to sag slightly.

 “It’s two weeks away. Supposed to be on Wednesday. Though I don’t know if that’s 100% accurate.” Remus glanced out the window momentarily to look out the window onto the Hogwarts grounds. He saw the Whomping Willow in the corner of the visible grounds through the window. Remus could only stand to look at it for a moment before returning his gaze to the floor inside the castle. Peter nodded beside him, then turned down the hall towards the Gryffindor Tower.

 “I have some chocolate from the house-elves. If you want some? I’d be happy to share, it’s honestly too much for me.” Remus smiled as Peter spoke. He was very sweet, and could usually see when someone needed something and acted on it frequently. That in its own right was very brave. Remus knew more people than he chose to count that rarely acted when they saw someone in any kind of pain.

 “That would be wonderful, Peter. Thank you.”

By the time Remus and Peter made it up to the tower, James was sitting on the common room couch talking to some younger students about the quickest routes between different classes, and Sirius was nowhere to be found in the common room. He’s likely laying in bed, he seemed very tired earlier today… though he also seemed upset. I wonder what’s bothering him? Peter pulled a bar of chocolate out of his bag, handing it to Remus, smiling.

“Let me know if you want any more, I think I’ve got two more bars.” Peter sat down on the couch a moment later. 

“Thank you, Peter. I think I’ll go to bed, though. Today has been rather tiring.” Remus gave a short wave to Peter and James, returning Peter’s smile. He unwrapped part of the chocolate bar and began to eat it as he walked up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory, trying to think of what could be bothering Sirius. Maybe someone said something about his parents? Or someone may have said something unkind about Peter or me? In all honesty, it could have been anything, I shouldn’t be worrying too much. Remus’ thoughts stopped when he saw Sirius draped over his bed. He hadn’t even bothered to get under the covers, hair a mess all over his pillow, sprawled on the bed with one hand under the pillow. God, he’s gorgeous… Remus broke from his stupor, holding the chocolate bar in his mouth, then set his bags by his bed before walking over to Sirius, pulling back his covers and spreading them over the sleeping boy. Remus sat down on the edge of his own bed and watched Sirius for a moment, wondering what had exhausted him so thoroughly. It only took him a few bites to finish the chocolate bar. He pulled out a book as he took the last bite and felt a little disappointed that it had disappeared so quickly.

He shifted back on his bed until his back was propped up against the wall, opening the book he’d been reading to the bookmark. It was a muggle book he’d borrowed from his mother, and he enjoyed the story very much. It was about a simple, calm hobbit that got pulled into an adventure he wasn’t entirely ready for, Remus related to the character a little with all of the insanity James and Sirius pulled him into. The character was relatively soft-spoken, though not to be spoken over, and very protective. Remus smiled as he curled up, enjoying a quiet evening of reading The Hobbit and listening to the sound of rain. 

///Thank you for reading. I don’t know how quickly I’ll be able to get these done, But i will try my best to post every other week, they may come more often, long chapters might take a little longer. :) Have a wonderful week and take care.///

#Constellations-in-your-soul #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #wolfstar #marauders #harry potter #angsty #it will have fluff eventually I promise just not right now #slowburn

[worldofvarious]

Heeseung’s Vlog After Going Down from The Stage for Butterfly Performance

“Hello everyone. It’s Heeseung here. Today was the day I did the ‘Butterfly’ performance together with Geonu along with the performance team, K hyung, Sunghoon, and Jungwon. We did our best for the performance and glad we won! Woah that’s unbelievable. We’ve worked really hard for that.

Hm what am I going to say? Ah okay maybe I would like to share how my preparation for the stage was. Everyone, I was actually beyond startled after knowing that the upcoming mission was unit representative. As far as I know, the other idol survival shows will only give such normal unit mission, such as every trainee will be compartmentalized in several groups with the given song to be performed. There are no one left to be jobless. All of the trainees do the mission and they will get their individual point afterwards. However, that was the first time I heard such mission. My mind was still processing to absorb the regulations, but I already knew if the members would point me out to be included in one of the teams. I didn’t even sign myself for that, but if the rest put their trust on me, I will hold the trust firmly no matter what. So, at that time I decided to stay myself silent and let the members decided which team that was suitable for me. I remembered there’s someone responded like this in the middle of discussion, “Oh it’s hard to decide because Heeseung hyung is too good at everything.” I could only stay silent, while the members nodded their heads very assertively.

Everyone, don’t get me wrong. I think I still have many lacks in certain aspects that I should practice harder to make another improvement. I also want to practice singing with Geonu since he has the best voice among the members, I guess. I will practice harder in the future, so please look forward to it! Wait how far did I speak? Ah the discussion! So, the members finally asked me whether I’m willing to be in the vocal unit, and I was okay with that. The reason why I didn’t decline it and rather put myself in the vocal unit is because I think there are other members who are extremely excellent in dancing than me. Like K hyung and Jay —this guy is very passionate about dancing, so I believe in him so much. I think Sunghoon is good too, but turns out Jungwon was picked to be in the dancing unit. So the overall members for dancing unit was K hyung, Jay, and Jungwon. To be honest, after the members gave their trust upon me, I was somewhat stressed and pressured. I had to practice singing and dancing late at night when the rest were swimming trough their dream. I had to cut my sleeping time to save the rest of the members. There was the time when I also felt jealous a little bit because they could have good time with no worry whatsoever, whereas the burden was on me. Nevertheless, the thought of jealousy didn’t stay long as the members gave us cheers and joined to practice together. You know right? We parted the rest of the members into dancing and vocal unit, just in case one of the members from the fix unit has injury or some unfortunate moment so we can cover it up. Geonu and I were practicing very hard. He helped me a lot in singing and I must admit he will be the best singer in the future. The dancing team too, they were practicing very hard. I came across the dance room and saw three of them practicing every move very fast. And then when the mid assessment came, I was quite nervous because I thought my voice wasn’t that good compared to Geonu who’s more stable even when he’s dancing.  But the smile Rain producer gave was like a sign for us in which we’re finally allowed to wipe the sweat off from our forehead. And I was glad when Rain producer and Son Sungdeuk dance teacher gave compliment to the dance team too. I was so relieved at that time.

Everyone, you could tell that I was nervous before going up to the stage, right? Yes, that’s correct. I was actually too nervous that I couldn’t stop practicing every move and line, and singing too. The rest of the members were hoping that we could give the score as best as possible. It was the peak of my anxiety, I guess. By just recalling back those worry eyes from the members that glanced upon me, it really sends kind of fear to my body. And it kept hanging until I went up to the stage and set up my position with Geonu. When the music started, then my line came up I think my fear were almost gone. The feeling of discomfort suddenly just flowed along with every move that I made. It was very relieved when the music reached the end. Oh! and for the dance team, you may be quite shocked when Jay turned out didn’t go to the stage and Sunghoon came to replace him instead. Jay couldn’t do the spinning part like Sunghoon did, so we decided to change Jay’s position with Sunghoon instead. I knew that Jay might be angry and disappointed because he’d worked so hard for that and everyone knew he signed himself for the dance team so it must be hurt for him knowing his mate replaced him in the end. But everything’s okay. He could accept the reality. You could see he even cheered Sunghoon before going up to the stage.

Anyway, when we received higher score than the Grounders, we’re very relieved. Our hard work has finally paid off. Sunghoon did really well even though I could sense uneasiness through his face. I knew he must be very surprised for the sudden changes but he did very well. And the part ‘Hello’ while K hyung waved his hand, I think it’s very iconic. Every member likes it very much, including me! Haha thanks a lot K hyung! And talking about Grounders, I actually adore Niki so much. I remembered when he was in the I-Land, his dancing skill was very good. And now he’s improved a lot. For Daniel, Sunoo, and others too, they’re very good actually. I believe someday they will debut together.

I think that’s all for my vlog. I promise I will work harder and show the best performance for you guys! And don’t forget to vote your picks, I hope you can consider your picks very wisely and carefully because I honestly feel like everyone in here deserves to debut. Anyway, that’s all in my vlog. Bye! Have a nice day! Don’t forget to vote!”

#i land #heeseung #k iland #k i land #jungwon #jay i land #jay #niki iland #sunghoon iland #leeheeseung #parksunghoon

[bohrapbois]

I actually like a hardzello/jurassic park headcanon where Joe has to rescue Ben being trapped in Jurassic Park filled with dinos. lmao.

I’m so sorry that I didn’t see this! I had no notification and have no idea how long this has been sat here! I’m soooo sorry!

What happens when Owen brings in two dino experts for help, yet like usual, it turns to shit?

(Jake is Ben’s character lol)

“We can’t leave him,” Tim begged, grabbing Owen by the arm and pulling the bigger man around to look at him, “you asked us to come here and help you and now you want to leave him!”

“There ain’t anything we can do,” Owen apologised, honestly, knowing that Tim’s boyfriend had no hope out there. He’d called them both in to get their opinion on a new species which had emerged in the Park, and it took a drastic turn quickly, resulting in Jake being stuck out there. They’d been planning on being his extra eyes, sat up in one of the control rooms, yet the dinos went crazy, taking everyone by surprise and leaving their newest member surrounded. 

Tim screamed, kicked at the console in front of him. He grabbed anything he could, throwing it across the room. “Why didn’t you guys learn? Leave the dinosaurs alone!” He turned to Owen and Claire, jabbing a finger in their direction. “If it hadn’t been for your shitty idea, this wouldn’t have happened!”

“Don’t blame us!” Claire shouted back, “it’s your family which started all of this! We’re just trying to keep everything under control!”

“Look what good that shit has done! I can’t leave him out there!” Grabbing Owen’s gun from where the ranger had left it, Tim was halfway to the door before anyone stopped him.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Owen grabbed his gun, yet Tim refused to let go, instead twisting it out of Owen’s grip, backing towards the door. The look of pure rage and determination stopped the other two from advancing. 

“I’m going to safe my boyfriend,” he spat out, finally getting to the door, quickly unlocking it and slipping out. All Owen and Claire could do now was watch on the monitors as Tim Murphy hijacked the bike, speeding off to his certain death.

Jake, on another monitor, was managing to keep himself in a good position. He’d gotten the high ground, using it to his advantage as he used the sniper rifle to take another one of the hybrids out. It pained the dino expert to be killing the things that had been his fascination throughout his younger days, but he had no choice. He had to survive this, had to make sure that he got out of this. He’d never come back, this place should be destroyed as soon as possible, nothing but dust as it becomes a warning to everyone of the dangers of playing god. But he knew he was running out of ammo, and with a shaky breath, reloaded for what would likely be his last time. He never got the life he wanted with Tim. He wasted most of it fighting in an army he didn’t believe in. He should’ve listened to his parents and should’ve been a teacher after he left the army, but instead he met Tim and his life changed. So here he was, waiting for his death to come, wishing he was anywhere but here.

The rumble of a motorcycle in the distant caused his heart to jump with hope, and he had to readjust his grip. He was probably imagining it - he’d finally lost his mind and his PTSD had gotten the better of him. He knew it was hopeless, no one would be an idiot enough to come out here and save him, especially as they knew his car had been attacked, resulting in him being here. Owen had said some bullshit about these newer species being harmless, and Jake had foolishly believed him, reassuring Tim that he’d be ok, and with a kiss, he had jumped in the car, ready to see them from a distance. But they’d been clever, had trapped him, and tipped over the car in hopes of easy pray. 

But that sound grew louder, and it seemed to bait out his hiding attacker, Jake now managing to get a clear shot and getting rid of one more. They were curious creatures, he noted, yet much more intelligent than they seemed. And alot more deadly, he reminded himself, feeling the drying blood on his back. And as the sound grew louder again, Jake frowned, trying to keep focus but he was sure it was coming towards him. 

“Jake!” He heard a familiar shout, and he did the most stupid thing that any soldier would do, and turned from his position, seeing Tim coming towards him. He stumbled up, trying to close the distance between them, but Tim raised a gun, one hand on the steering as he closed an eye, skidding to a halt and using his other hand to steady it. Jake continued to run, although his boyfriend was aiming right at him, hope over riding his common sense, yet when Tim pulled the trigger, the bullet skidded past his ear and straight into the dinosaur behind him. Jake stumbled, now deafened in one ear, yet Tim raised the gun again and took another shot, wider this time, and managing to hit on target again. By this point, Jake was at the motorcycle, wrapping sweat and blood soaked arms around his boyfriends waist, and trusting that they’d get out of there as Tim took one more shot before kicking the motorcycle off and starting their retreat back towards main base.

They managed to get in before anything else had caught up with them, and both Owen and Claire emerged with medical kits, pulling Jake off of the cycle and giving him emergency first aid. Enough for now, but as they clambered onto the helicopter, the first place they needed to go was the hospital. Yet, Jake held onto Tims hand and laughed, tired eyes looking up to the ceiling. “Not the holiday I expected”.

Ok yes I know this is shit but I wrote it in ten minutes straight from the head haha your lucky that I’d daydreamed about this scenario yesterday

#hardzello #ben hardy #joe mazzello #jurrasicpark #jurrasic world #my writing #blurb #request #it's bad I know don't judge

[shiro-0197]

Hi :) ah don't worry about it!! I hope you had a wonderful time out and that you enjoyed your day. I was about to sleep but I'm not so tired yet, so I figured I'd reply and slowly doze off once Im done.

ooh melon ice cream! That sounds so lovely, I've not seen it on the menu, but they do have occasional new ice cream flavours, so let's hope that's the case when we have our date :) (they've had caramel, m&ms, oreos and the rare Malaysian specials, so fingers crossed!!) I'm guessing melon is your favourite flavour?

oh that's okay, I didn't either, until my palms just kept getting scratched and my dad was like "it's time to get you some gloves" 😭 and I just went along with it.

oh my gosh that'd be so cool!! I love it when my old graduates come in and see their old teachers and juniors again. There was this one guy who graduated a while ago, but comes back every year to coach our school debate team, because he was a national debater himself. Anyways, I hope you'll be able to visit his school as a graduate someday!!

That's the cutest analogy ever, honestly. You're right, it's a relief and something fun to do :) yeah, he's wonderful, I can truly just talk about the craziest things with him and Angel, and Abigail too, actually.

Thank you!! I hope I'm able to do it, and it isn't just a resolution I forget about ':( I love it when you go offtopic, actually. It's just so cute to see you excitedly talking (writing?¿) about something.

Aww then I wish you and him all the best. 😭😭Rightly so?? I mean, you're gorgeous, so—

KAHFKSHDKSK *visible terrified noises* 😭😭that's so cursed oh gosh. But AHH some good old teasing. I do the same with angel. Tho we do it with animal pictures Skhdkshsks tho artbreeder can make some really pretty stuff :> I tried making oikawa, and I'm actually happy with the way it turned out so—

I hope you guys get some really good cheeseburgers. And KAJDKSJSKS Norway 😭💖💖 it's like the home of fresh salmon, make sure you have some there !! AND NORSE MYTHS—

you have such picturesque cottgecore dreams wtf I want your dreams 😭😭 they sound so relaxing and soft. When I do have dreams (although they're rare) they're just of things which have 0.01% possibility of happening irl and I wake up in a cold sweat.

Yes two weirdo chilling 😭💖

Trust me I'm the exact same. Double points if they're passionate and confident about it. Then I'm choosing a wedding dress 😔🤚 tho yay I'd love to be a show-off with you (tho at some point I'd probably shut up with the dorkiest smile on my face because I'd just want to listen to you talk excitedly). And KAJDKSJSKS 😭😭 you make me wanna rewatch Kung Fu Panda it was such a good movie!! I miss it every day.

Your day sounds lovely!! Tho damn guess we gotta sue the coffee company now too. I hope tomorrow is just as amazing as today was, for you. I love you very much, Shiro.

—☃️

Tbh it was pretty boring, I only had to get some stuff done but I saw a pretty dog so I guess that's something nice about that😭 I hope you slept well!!

Hopefully!!! Though I wouldnt mind any other ice cream flavour, ice cream just cant be bad. But yeah, melon is my favorite!! What are the Malaysian specials, by the way?

Ohh I see~ we usually ignore our scratches and everything, haha. I only learnt the fact that I need to treat my wounds and not just let them be an year ago XD to be honest, I was sk confused when I saw my classmate freaking out over the cut I got while trying to make something. I was literally like "bro chill *licks wound*" and believe me when I say it made him scream 😭

Me too!!! They're usually really fun and cool people, I get so happy when I hear that they're coming. Also, a national? That's so awesome?!?!

It's always so good to have someone you can just talk about anything, be it the political issues or the bug you saw today😭 and having them as interested as i am makes me so happy xndskmd

I'm sure you can!! I believe in you, Shortcake!! Also same goes to you, you're the cutest person ever when you talk about something... anything!!

Ahahah, sounds fun!! I remember one day I sent him a screenshot of one of the characters from the Cats movie, and said that's him. AND HE IGNORED ME FOR A WEEK AFTER THAT😭😭

Ohh he looks so good!!! He looks so soft nnaggdhwhdhwh😭😭🥺🥺🥺

I didnt make this guy but I found him in the Random section, and tbh he looks so gorgeous to me I wanna marry him

His hair !!!!!!!!!😍😍😍

Ohhhh I hope the salmon is good over there, otherwise I lose hope in fish😩 also YES norse myths!!!

Awhh, I wish we knew how to control our dreams😭 I wanna be there to comfort you when you have those weird bad dreams :((

Okay that sounds like such a cute comic idea I'm gonna force ask Kuro to doodle that XD I'd love to ramble about stuff with you. I really wanna hear everything you have to say about anything!!!

Omg now I wanna rewatch the movies😭😭 Finally someone agrees with me, most people I know dont like the movies grrr

I really hope so as well!! I hope I can get even more stuff done. I really need to clean the yard from snow I think, there's a bit too much😭

I love you a lot and I hope today's going well for you! ♡♡

#Ari💕 #ms snowman hello !!!

[desktopdust]

Forge Ahead

In the dead of night, two iron candlesticks created an island of luminescence in the vast sea of darkness that filled the chamber.  Between them, a spear stood upon a wooden pedestal, shaft made of gold, rings of colorless jewels embedded down its length; a head of untarnished silver shone at its end, carved into elegant designs that all met back into a single point.  Sitting before it was a young man of olive complexion, black hair short and neat, having an athletic body that did not quite fit the timid aura he exuded.

He sat perfectly still, focusing entirely upon the spear.  His soul reached out to it, finding a wellspring of otherworldly power bursting forth from the weapon, and he steadily waded into its depths.  He breathed deeply.  Reaching even farther, he drew from the spring, pulling only the tiniest sliver of the power into himself, and at once new strength exploded throughout him.  He called upon his training to temper the power, quieting its wildness and merging it with the natural energy already flowing through his body.

It was exhilarating and terrifying and humbling.  This primordial magic was old, older than the air he breathed and the ground beneath his feet, perhaps even older than the darkness he drifted through.  According to legend, even the gods did not fully understand this spear, only able to deduce that it was made from the bones of the very entity that thought their entire world into being.  They had entrusted it to humans as a sign of good faith, but even after two thousand years, there was not a single one in existence who could adequately describe the truly alien feeling that waited in the depths of the spring.

“Gerulf.”

He scrambled to his feet, letting go of the magic as he spun to face the one who had called him.  Emerging from the dark sea was a man with scraggly, snow-white hair and skin that looked pale compared to Gerulf, supporting his weight with a simple wooden staff, a frayed eyepatch covering one side of his face while the remaining eye stared straight through him.

“Yes, Master Serhan!” Gerulf said, stiffening his back.

The old man came closer, not making any efforts to disguise his pronounced limp. “So much tension?  Don’t mistake it for focus.”

Gerulf tried to relax his shoulders, only partly succeeding.  “Y-Yes, Master, my apologies.”

Serhan came to a stop beside Gerulf, staring up at the spear with an almost weary familiarity.  “Working to the last minute, huh?  If you’re not confident in your ability to commune with Gungnir, then postpone the trial and continue your training.”

Gerulf was no longer surprised by his teacher’s bluntness, but still he fumbled for words.  “No, no, I’m ready!  I only...er, well…”  He rubbed his neck, feeling a bead of sweat taking form on his brow.  Serhan waited for him to continue.  “...I...want to be as sure as possible.  I do not want to waste any time, not when I could be honing my ability further.”

Serhan closed his eyes as he stroked his beard.  “Remind me again why you’re here.”

“I have been chosen to protect one of the Seven Sisters of my home country of Pleiades, contingent upon completing training at one of the Four Schools of the Primordial Arms.”

“Hm? There’s seven?”

Gerulf nodded.  “Yes, always seven.  When the time comes for a successor to be chosen, a Sister will receive a vision from Celestial Zempyst making that choice.  Three years ago, the current Sister of the Southeast received such a vision...and in it, she saw only one Satellite protecting her successor.  Me, apparently.”

Serhan glanced at him.  “You doubt?”

Gerulf’s hand twisted of its own accord.  “...I do.”

“Yet you accepted.”

“How could I not?  It is the will of a goddess—of one of the Nine Geneses!  I had hoped that I would understand it by the time my training neared completion, but still I do not.”  Gerulf fixed his gaze on Gungnir, watching the candlelight glint off of it.  “I must not fail.  I must be ready as I possibly can be, so I cannot waste any time.”

“Hm. Quite a duty.  Answer this!”  Serhan pressed the head of his staff against Gerulf’s chest, making the man flinch. “Is time spent caring for a spear a waste?”

Gerulf blinked.  “...I’m sorry?”

“That time could be spent training.  Should a spear only be thrust into battle?”

After thinking a moment, he answered, “Um...well, were that the case, the spear would be worn down at a considerable speed, Master.  Some time should be taken to maintain the weapon, so that it can be dependable for a long time to come.”

He jumped slightly as Serhan beat his staff against the floor. “Exactly!  Without rest, a weapon grows dull.  People are the same.  Hard work is good, but don’t dull your edge, Gerulf.”

“Oh...I see.”  Slowly, Gerulf’s shoulders lowered, the remaining tension gradually seeping out of him at last.  “Thank you, Master.”

Serhan nodded once.  “Alright. What now?”

Gerulf turned back to Gungnir.  His shoulders began to tighten.

“Haah...hesitation.”

Gerulf tried to speak, but Serhan raised a hand.

“A spear is meant to be thrust at a single point with all your might.  To carry one, you need to be decisive.  Good night, Gerulf.”

Serhan retreated back into the darkness.  Gerulf continued to stare at the spear for a minute or so, and then picked up his candlestick and ventured towards the chamber’s exit.

And that is precisely why… he thought.

The hall sported several candles of its own, holding the night at bay but unable to stop the formless shadows dancing along the stony walls.  Gerulf snapped to attention as a door opened up ahead. Out stepped a man of fair skin nearly a foot taller than Gerulf, carrying himself with a sureness that one could simply feel was unearned.  Spotting Gerulf, he paused and laughed, saying, “Look who’s up!  Shouldn’t you be resting, pal?  You’re gonna need all the help you can get.”

“Good evening, Achard,” Gerulf greeted.  “I was just retiring for the night, actually.”

“Heh, right.  Man, I still can’t believe you and I are the only ones from this class who passed the assessment.  I was sure Prem had you beat!”

Gerulf fidgeted.  “Ah, I’m a bit surprised myself.  I suppose the points I lost in combat were made up elsewhere.”

“Guess that makes sense,” Achard said with a shrug.  “Still, combat’s all that really matters—the whole reason we’re here is to learn to fight using Gungnir’s power!  And what a power it is, right?”

Trying to smile, Gerulf said, “It’s, uh, certainly very potent.  The primordial magic it’s made from is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.”

A toothy grin crossed Achard’s face.  “One of the four weapons older than the whole world...with power like that, I’m gonna be able to do anything!”

“Ahah...I suppose.  So, um...what is it you plan on doing when you pass?”

“Head back home first of all—got to give everyone a chance to be proud of me and all.  After that, I’ll probably go on a world tour and see how many heads I can knock!  Who knows, maybe I’ll come to Pleiades and kick you around a bit.”

Swallowing hard, Gerulf tried to reply, but his jaw was frozen shut.

“Haha, don’t be so serious, man!  ‘Sides, you’re probably in for another course anyway.”  Achard walked past Gerulf, smacking him in the shoulder. “Sweet dreams, pal!  I’ll see you at the trial tomorrow.”

Gerulf glanced over his shoulder at Achard’s receding form.  Facing forward once more, he shook his head and resumed walking.

***

The island where Gungnir was kept was a lush valley within a ring of mountains, an unusually temperate spot for being so far North.  From where he stood atop one of the border peaks, Gerulf could trace the rivers as they sectioned off the forests and plains, several of them coming together to feed the central lake.  The school was built on the edge of this lake, a stone keep half the height of the mountains surrounding it, sturdy enough to withstand a siege of several months and lined with metal spikes that seemed to taunt some unknown enemy into attempting just that.

He shivered a bit as he tightened the straps of his leather training armor, taking a step back from the edge.  Master Serhan stood not far away, staring off and letting the salty breeze and rays of the rising sun soak into his body, and Achard (having forgone the training armor) was warming up nearby as well.

Stretching his finely-toned arms, Achard said, “Hey, is it time to start yet, Master?”

Not looking away from the point on the horizon he was staring at, Serhan said, “Patience, Achard.  I’ll explain everything in just a moment.”

The student grumbled under his breath as he moved on to stretching his muscular legs.  “Yeah, alright.  How about you, Gerulf: you ready for a challenge?”

Chuckling quietly, Gerulf said, “Aha...we’ll see, I suppose…”

Achard sprang up.  “Pfft! What kind of answer is that? You’re never gonna pass with such a wimpy attitude!”

Gerulf shrank back, saying nothing.

“Heh, whatever.  Guess I shouldn’t complain, being the only one from this class to make it out at the first trial point!  I’ll see ya in another three years, buddy.”

Serhan walked past them and up to the edge, saying, “Learn the difference between confidence and arrogance, Achard.  There’s no guarantee either of you will pass.”

Achard rolled his eyes, choosing to hold onto his smirk just the same.

“First time I’ve seen so few taking the trial.  This lot—you’ve all got potential, but you’re all chipped blades.”

Serhan faced the two men and spun his staff around, two simple spears materializing in its wake.  Grabbing the weapons, he tossed them into the hands of his students, and then struck the ground with his staff.

“Now!  You two’ve completed a three year course and earned a chance at the Forge Trial.  The only tools you have are these spears, and whatever strength you can muster.”  Serhan turned and waved his staff over the valley.  “You have until midday to find enough ore to craft a spear of your own!  If you can do that and make it back to the keep in time, you’ll show your skills by channeling Gungnir’s power in a fight.  Show me you’ve learned something, and I’ll let you forge your own spear and send you on your way.”  He turned back to his students.  “Any questions?”

Gerulf shook his head.  Achard tested the weight of his spear.

“Good.  Begin!”

Instantly, Achard rushed over the edge and bounded down the mountain. Gerulf instead approached the edge and stopped, carefully scanning the wall below to plan his way down, and then began a long, slow climb.  As he went, Gerulf cast a look over his shoulder to note Achard’s progress: the other man was just disappearing into the trees, his hollering just barely audible even from such a great distance.  Gerulf’s hand slipped slightly, so he pressed himself against the mountain and froze until he verified his handhold.

I wonder how quickly he’ll make it back?

He reminded himself that speed was not the determining factor.  Cautiously, Gerulf resumed his climb.

Finding a spot to procure ore wasn’t difficult for Gerulf: he had paid close attention to Serhan’s lessons on where to search for deposits, and once in an appropriate area he tapped his spear on the ground a few times before giving a satisfied nod.  Calling out to Gungnir, he again mixed its energy into his own, this time directing that energy through his hand and into the spear to give it a subtle shine. He then began to gradually chip away at the ground with his spear, carefully positioning his strikes so as not to damage the glittering ore he quickly uncovered.

The task took not even an hour.  Bundling up the ore, Gerulf made his way back to the school that had been his home these past three years, glancing about for any sign of Achard.  He made his way across the wide-open foyer and down the central staircase, no company aside from his echoing footsteps at first, but slowly he felt the temperature rise, and the smell of smoke and slag came to meet him. The stairs terminated in a great sprawling chamber where the air itself stung like flames, rivers of magma flowing along its edges and across its width towards a massive furnace in the distance. When Gerulf made it there, he found Master Serhan sitting upon an anvil, arms crossed and staff balanced on his shoulders as he watched Gerulf with a stony expression.

Gerulf choked on the heat as he tried to speak up.  “Master...I have gathered the necessary amount of ore.”

Serhan grunted.  “Well done.  Take a seat.”

Gerulf complied, sitting on the floor next to a rack of tools.  Nearly two hours passed before Achard finally appeared, his dark scowl made all the more menacing by the chamber’s orange light.

“How the hell did you get here so fast?!” Achard demanded.  “I left you in the dust!”

“Achard,” Serhan said. “You had trouble mining, didn’t you?”

Achard glanced aside. “I mean...it didn’t take me too long to find a place.  But it kept breaking into such tiny pieces, and I couldn’t tell what was ore and what was rock—rounding it up was a pain in the ass.”

Serhan grunted again. “I thought as much.  Set down what you’ve got.  The two of you step back and get ready.”

Achard wasted no time getting in position and brandishing his spear, white light coating it as he drew upon Gungnir’s wellspring of magical energy.  Gerulf’s body was rigid as he did the same.

“I won’t outright forbid anything, but don’t overdo it.  I didn’t teach you to be murderers.  Begin.”

Gerulf leapt aside as Achard thrust at him.  A pinpoint shockwave flew from the weapon’s tip, blasting a hole in the wall.  He tried not to think of the destructive power he was dealing with, instead focusing on the flow of his and Gungnir’s energy, directing a bit more than usual to linger in his feet.  Achard thrust again, so Gerulf dodged again. With a yell, the taller man rushed forward, and Gerulf jumped away as he unleashed a flurry of blows.

“Is dodging all you’re good at?” Achard said.  “Draw this out all you want!  No way am I losing a battle of stamina!”

Gerulf realized he was now teetering on the edge of a magma duct.  Achard moved to strike a finishing blow, but Gerulf leapt up and over his spear, realizing his opponent would take a second to regain his own balance.  Gerulf aimed his spear…but then spun, kicking Achard in the face instead.  As Achard stumbled back, Gerulf landed and moved to a safer location.

“Huh…lucky hit,” Achard said.  “Won’t happen again!”

Achard sprang into the air, falling spear-first towards Gerulf.  The maneuver was easy enough to dodge, but when Achard’s spear pierced the ground, energy pulsed out from it, blasting away some of the rock and surprising Gerulf.  Achard stepped forward and swung his spear in a wide overhead arc, now topped with a rectangular chunk of stone.  Gerulf only narrowly avoided the makeshift hammer, the head bursting apart and spraying him with stone shrapnel; Achard pressed his advantage, and after keeping Gerulf on his toes with a few spear thrusts, followed one immediately with a punch that sent Gerulf sprawling.

“Gotcha!”

Achard lunged.  Gerulf suffered a grazing blow as he scrambled to his feet, but thankfully it only hit his armor.  He made ready to attack, so Achard hovered at the edge of his range, keeping his own weapon ready.  Pointing his spear, Gerulf shouted.  The head of the weapon lit up, and the spear surged forward under its own power, dragging Gerulf along behind it.  Achard sidestepped and retaliated.  Thinking quickly, Gerulf ducked and swept one leg out, successfully tripping up Achard just as his spear began to slow.  Gerulf turned to see Achard’s exposed back, but instead of attacking, he created more distance between them.  Achard came up fuming.

“Damn you!  Annoying little…you won’t even take advantage?  Are you insulting me?!”

“N-No, not at all!” Gerulf said.  “I simply…I mean, you’re not…”

The aura around his spear flaring higher, Achard shouted, “Spit it out!”

“You…you don’t have armor!  If I’m not careful, I could seriously injure you…is all…”

Achard could only gape at this.  Serhan stroked his beard, murmuring to himself, “So that’s what you’re afraid of. Now I get it.”

Grinding his teeth against each other, Achard said, “You…don’t you dare pity me!  I can sure as hell take a hit from a wimp like you!”

He hurled his spear upward, it transforming into a bolt of energy until it impacted with the ceiling.  Willing the weapon to teleport back to his hand, Achard advanced as stalactites loosed from the cavern roof began to fall at random, bearing down on Gerulf with deadly focus.  Put into a panic, Gerulf acted on instinct, running away from Achard while deftly dodging any stalactite headed his way.  Achard eventually drove him into a narrow space between two magma flows, pausing for just a moment to channel even more power to make the finishing blow. At the same time, Gerulf realized he had no room to dodge the next stalactite falling towards him.  With no other choice, Gerulf dug his heels in—he gripped his spear with both hands, and with all his strength, thrust it up at the falling rubble, hitting it dead on its point and splitting it neatly in two. One half fell into the magma behind him, and the other fell towards an Achard in mid-thrust.  The taller student was struck by the debris, losing his wits all at once, and stumbled back towards the magma.

“Dammit…!”

Serhan prepared to act.  However, he didn’t need to.  Gerulf jolted forward, plunging his spear into the bank of the river, and yelled. With a tremendous flash of light, a new trench was blown into existence perpendicular to the existing one, disrupting the lava flow just long enough for Achard to safely land in the recession and roll clear.  Gerulf dropped to his knees with a long sigh.

“…Hm,” Serhan said.  He popped one shoulder, knocking his staff into the air where he could snatch it up, and then dismounted his seat and approached his students.  “Interesting.”

Achard put a hand to his head as he sat up.  Looking around, he said, “What…how did this happen…?”

Gerulf got back on his feet.  Examining the new results of his handiwork more closely, Serhan said, “A lot of power you called on just now.”

“I…well, I really just acted on reflex,” Gerulf said between pants.

“Doesn’t matter.  I’ve seen what I need to see.”

Serhan began to walk back.  Climbing out of the trench, Achard said, “Hang on!  I’m not done yet!”

“No. You’re not.”  Coming to a stop behind the anvil, Serhan again faced his students.  “Achard. You can use Gungnir’s power easily, but you still don’t know how to use it properly.  You’ll be taking another course.”

Achard’s eyes shot wide.

“Gerulf.  Truth is, your position isn’t all that different.”

Gerulf hung his head.

“However.  Your problem is that you lack conviction.  I don’t think there’s any more I can do to teach you that…but carrying out your duty ought to do it.”

Looking back up, Gerulf said, “Master?”

Serhan beckoned.  “Come here. It’s time for you to forge your own spear.”

Gerulf’s eyes widened, yet he still didn’t see Achard storm off.  Serhan tossed Gerulf the sack of ore he had gathered and gestured to a mold laying near the furnace.  Still in a surreal haze, Gerulf crossed the chamber and emptied the bag into the indented metal, only coming to as he carefully lifted the mold onto the metal rack reaching out from the furnace’s maw.  He turned towards the tools to find Serhan already passing him a long pair of tongs.  Gerulf pushed the mold into the flame, closed the window, and then waited.

“Master,” Gerulf said, “I—”

“No,” Serhan interrupted.  “Focus. You’ll know when the time is right.”

Gerulf watched the furnace in silence.  Eventually, after only a moment’s hesitation, he uncovered the window and reached in with the tongs, retrieving the mold from the fiery depths to find it now filled with molten metal.

“There,” Serhan said, pointing to a slotted section of the rack.

Once Gerulf fit the mold into it, Serhan detached the segment of rack, its wheeled legs squeaking as it was pulled a short distance away from the furnace. Serhan then pointed his staff at the ceiling, where Gerulf now noticed an odd carving; suddenly, Serhan’s staff lit up and extended into an impossibly long pike, puncturing the carving, and after giving it a turn, Serhan willed it to retract and take the chunk of ceiling with it.  Water poured from the hole, dousing the mold and unleashing a monstrous cloud of steam. Extending his staff once again, Serhan plugged the opening, and then faced Gerulf and gestured toward the anvil.

“Take a hammer,” Serhan said as Gerulf moved the spear.  “Call upon Gungnir, but focus its power farther than before. Don’t stop at the hammer—pour it into the spear.”

Gerulf held the tongs in one hand, keeping the spear steady, while raising the hammer with his other.  He took a few seconds to focus Gungnir’s magic, and when he was ready, he struck the spearhead with the bludgeon, releasing a shower of white sparks with a thunderous clanging that shocked him.

“Focus.”

Furrowing his brow, Gerulf breathed deeply and swung again.  More noise, more sparks.  This time light surged down the length of the spear.  He struck it again, and again, and again, infusing more and more of Gungnir’s primordial magic into his work.  The spear was beginning to change shape: no longer was it the simple form the mold had been carved into, but now a thick-shafted weapon with an aerodynamic, almost star-shaped head with two long, thin tails that spiraled three times around the shaft before terminating.  When he delivered the final strike, Gerulf felt all his breath leave him at once. The spear glowed white-hot, a hypnotic shine in which Gerulf saw his own soul reflected.  Not stopping to think, he dropped his tools, reached out, and took hold of the spear—instantly, the heat and light burst out from the weapon, rendering it cool to the touch.

A smile could be seen within Serhan’s beard.  “Well done, Gerulf.  Now, name it.”

Over the years, Gerulf had wondered many times what to name his spear if he ever completed his training.  But now, holding it aloft in his hand, he somehow knew exactly what this weapon’s name was.  “Heliacal Asterism.”

Serhan nodded.  “A fine name for a fine weapon.”

Gerulf lowered the spear and turned back to Serhan.  With a bow, he said, “Thank you for everything, Master.  I am forever in your debt.”

“Just remember what I’ve taught you.  Find your conviction.  I’ll summon a boat to take you back to Pleiades first thing tomorrow.”

Gerulf nodded and headed back for the staircase, marveling at Heliacal Asterism as he went.  It slowly sank in that finally he was headed home, and when he arrived, he would begin an even greater task laid before him by Celestial Zempyst herself.  His next few steps were stilted.

I must not hesitate. If I am the only one who can protect the Sister of the Southeast, then I must work as hard as possible.  No one will suffer from my inaction ever again.

#original work #Valkyrie Errant

[banana-boomboom]

oh how sweet it is (to be loved by you)

For  @adrinetteapril 2020 -   Posted to AO3 & FFN - (Chapter 1 is here)

Rated G

Chapter 22: Outfit Change

Summary: Lunch date shenanigans

“Dude, what is going on with you two?”

Adrien raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Nino rolled his eyes. “You and Marinette.”

“What about me and Marinette?”

“You know…” Nino stared at him, obviously trying to prompt a response that Adrien wasn’t understanding.

“I really don’t.”

Nino leaned in close and looked around the room like he was afraid someone might overhear. “Dude, you’ve walked her to class, like, 10 times in the last few weeks, you’ve had lunch dates at each other’s houses, you specifically made her cookies, you invited her to one of your photoshoots.”

“Yeah,” Adrien was confused. Sure, he was doing all of those things because he liked her, but it wasn’t like it was a strange thing for friends to do. And if Marinette was feeling uncomfortable with the attention because she was interested in Luka, he was sure she would say something about it. “So?”

“Alya told me she caught you guys snuggled on the couch at the sleepover we had.”

Adrien paled. Now, that was something friends didn’t do. “What’s your point?”

“Look, dude,” Nino whispered, “I know it’s not true because Marinette is the best dudette ever, but I heard someone has been saying she’s seducing and manipulating you to get into the fashion world.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I know. I don’t know who started the rumor, but I just wanted to let you know that if you guys are dating in secret, you should probably make a statement or something. You know, to get the crazies to chill out. You’re lucky Chloe has been in New York with her mom for the week.”

“But we’re not dating.”

“What? Why not? You guys got it so bad for each other.”

“It’s… complicated,” Adrien looked down.

“What’s complicated about it? You like her and she likes you. Just date about it,” Nino shrugged.

“I thought she did like me. I was going to ask her on a date after the sleepover, but…” Adrien trailed off choking on his next words.

“What? Did you get nervous or something? It’s not sweat, you can just do it today or whatever.”

Adrien shook his head. “No, it’s not that.” He steeled himself and hissed, “I saw her kiss Luka.”

Nino’s sharp intake of breath startled him. “Oh, dude…”

“Yeah,” Adrien sighed dejectedly. “That’s why I’ve been doing all that stuff. To win her over, you know?”

“Well, dude, I’m still pretty sure she isn’t into Luka.”

“That doesn’t explain the kiss, though.”

“True,” Nino tapped his chin. “Have you asked her about it?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Well, then that’s your first play here. See if you can do lunch with her again today and make it happen, dude!”

“I’m here! I’m here. I’m on time,” Marinette said as she burst through the door and quickly made her way to her seat.

“Hey, look at you, girl! Beating the bell for once,” Alya snickered.

“I know,” Marinette gasped as she worked to catch her breath. “I was up late finishing up one of my designs. You know how it is.”

Adrien turned to face her. “Is it the one you were drawing the other day?”

“N-no,” she stuttered and her familiar blush returned to her cheeks. “It’s one I’ve been working on for a few weeks.”

“I’d love to see it sometime,” Adrien said avoiding Alya’s inquisitive gaze.

Before Marinette could respond, Mme. Bustier started her lesson and Adrien was forced to face the board. Quietly, he shot Natalie a test asking her if he was able to have lunch at Marinette’s house.

He could feel Marinette’s eyes on the back of his head while he watched the clock, praying lunchtime would come quickly and relieve him of the anticipation.

Unfortunately, Adrien felt every single minute pass as he waited for Natalie to respond. While he waited, he snuck at the letter that started this whole thing. He’d stashed it in the back of his binder and luckily it was still there for him to reflect on. If he couldn’t distract himself with her beauty, at least he could distract himself with how happy she made him.

His phone buzzed in his lap and his heart leaped when he read Natalie’s response.

Your father approves for the visit today. However, he requests Mlle. Dupain-Cheng must accompany you for a luncheon with him tomorrow.

Breathing shallow, and fingers trembling, he typed out a formal ‘thank you’ to Natalie before opening his conversation with Marinette.

               Adrien: I wasn’t kidding, by the way. I would love to see your finished design.

A few moments later, he heard a faint buzzing and shuffling around behind him.

               Marinette: I didn’t take any pictures of it last night

               Adrien: Bummer…

               Adrien: Well, what are you doing for lunch today?

Adrien watched as the fateful … popped up and disappeared a few times. His heightened hearing picked up the sounds of girls whispering behind him.

“Just play dumb,” he heard Alya hissed.

He smirked to himself before writing whatever Mme. Bustier had said into his notebook.

               Marinette: Nothing. Why?

               Adrien: My father gave me permission to go to a friend’s house for lunch today.

               Marinette: You’re so awesome!

               Marinette: I MEAN, that’s so awesome!

               Marinette: Autocorrect haha

Adrien waited, hoping she would take the hint. He hated inviting himself over. Also, he wanted to be sure that she actually wanted him there. He jotted down a few more things from the lesson in his notes. Finally, his phone buzzed.

Marinette: Would you like to come to my house again? I could show you the dress I made if you’d like.

Adrien’s breath hitched as he imagined Marinette in a dress. A dress of her own design. His mind wandered and suddenly he was in a suit at one of Gabriel’s fashion gala’s. He was twirling her around the dancefloor. Everyone was oohing and awing over his girlfriends amazing design. Several guests were speculating when Adrien was going to propose, but most were talking about how successful Marinette’s new fashion line was.

“Adrien?” He was brought out of his daydream by Mme. Bustier.

“Yes?”

“Can you tell me who the first president of the 5th French Republic was?”

“Yes, ma’am. Everyone thinks it was de Gaulle, but it was actually René Coty before the first elections.”

Mme. Bustier paused in surprise. “That’s correct, Adrien. Well done.”

Adrien smiled at his teacher before focusing back on his messages.

               Adrien: It’s a date!

He smirked again to himself when he heard the excited whispers behind him.

 Adrien was walking on air after hugs from Tom and Sabine. He had only met them a handful of times, yet he felt more their son than he ever had with his own father. He had half a mind to ask them to adopt him. He stopped himself, however, cringing at the weirdness that situation would cause.

Plus, he had to focus. He had a plan to ask her what she thought about Luka and then hopefully, ask her on a date. Also, at some point he had to ask her to have lunch with him again tomorrow, this time, with his father.

He shook off the negative thoughts his father brought on in favor of the present.

Marinette led him up the stairs to her loft after they had finished eating.

“Well,” she asked, nervous. “What do you think?”

Adrien audibly gasped at the mannequin in front of him. It was dressed in a pink ballgown adorned with embroidered cherry blossoms and vines covering the bodice and cascading into the lines of the dress. The sweetheart neckline made way for off shoulder sleeves. The hem billowed out just barely grazing the floor.  

“It’s beautiful,” he managed.

“Thank you. It was a design I came up with a while ago for a friend’s wedding reception dress. I ended up making her a different design. This one was my favorite, though so I decided I’d make it for myself.”

Adrien ran his fingers over the intricate details in the embroidery. “Did you do all of this by hand?”

“Yeah,” she blushed. “I messed up a few times, but I think it gives it some charm.”

Adrien shook his head. “I can’t tell at all. It looks perfect.” He marveled at the ingenious hidden zipper and the addition of pockets.

“You’re just saying that,” she murmured.

“Maybe,” he teased. “I mean, I won’t be able to truly appreciate the work until I see it worn.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Have you tried it on yet?”

“No. I just finished it late last night.”

“Well, what are you waiting for then? I’m sure you’ve been dying to put it on.”

He watched as she considered his proposal. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?” She asked finally.

“Come on, Marinette,” he winked. “It’s fun to play dress up sometimes, isn’t it?”

“Ok,” she conceded. “But you have to wait downstairs,” she laughed.

“Of course, Princess,” he laughed as he bowed and climbed back through the trapdoor.

He silently hoped she had caught onto his use of Chat Noir’s nickname for her. Why he all of the sudden he wanted her to figure out his secret identity so desperately, he wasn’t sure. But the thought of her possibly falling for both sides of him was so exciting.

“Ok, I’m ready,” she called.

He flipped the hatch open and stepped into the loft before finally taking in the sight of her. Adrien’s mouth went dry. The dress shaped her figure perfectly, the base of the dress falling just above the floor. She had put on a delicate gold necklace with a ladybug pendant to compliment the modest neckline.

“Well?” she questioned.

“Wow,” he said dumbly.

She glanced at her tennis shoes from beneath the skirt and giggled nervously. “If only I had better shoes.”

Adrien shook his head, trying his best to force start his malfunctioning brain. “No, they’re perfect.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he said, finally back to full function. “They’re more comfortable to dance in.” He offered his hand to her with another bow.

Her wide eyes studied his hand for a moment before placing hers in it. He laced their fingers together, placed her opposite hand on his shoulder, and pulled her in close before guiding her in a slow dance around the room to the sounds of cars passing by.

His stomach was doing a dance of its own. He had to find a way to diffuse the nervousness in his chest. “See? You’re an amazing dancer in these shoes.”

She kept her eyes on their feet, but he heard her laugh nervously. “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” he joked.

She hummed in response before resting her head against his chest. He held her like that for a while, swaying to the song playing in his head.

#adrinetteapril2020 #adrinetteapril #adrinette #adrienette #adrienetteapril #oh how sweet it is #outfit change #day 22 #my fanfic