#sepolyamweek2018

When he reaches his destination, the two are nowhere to be found, and Soul can already feel the stares on his back, questioning why a Ravenclaw was standing outside of another house’s territory. In a way, the people watching him have already decided on the answer.

Slumping against the wall, struggling to make himself appear unbothered and effortless. He examines his wand, pretending to flick a couple of practice spells from his classes, anything but show that he was interested in what the others were saying.

They speak ill of Maka; that’s the most common complaint that he could hear in the building. Her dad, one of the professors in school, caused the most damage to her reputation, even before she entered school. It wasn’t her that they knew, but the transfiguration professor’s nightly activities as told by parents who had the same habits as their children. Maka both denies the rumors and her relationship with her dad, but Soul knows differently. He sees her leaving the dinner table early on some nights that Professor Spirit isn’t present at the front, taking a plate of food and a goblet of juice with her.

She is kind and considerate. For a slytherin, people will follow with after.

What other atrocities did they say about her? Other than about how she was similar to the most promiscuous professor on campus? They call her easy, yet prudish in the same breath. Stern and bossy. Bright and overachieving. A halfblood. A slytherin.

Soul feels himself growing more anxious the longer he stands. The stories begin to mix in his name and Kid’s. He hears how picky she is, but how she leads men on with sweet words and flirtatious giggles. They offer personal recounts about how Soul was seen with Maka last weekend in Hogsmeade, and then how Maka was studying with Kid in the library late into the night. Finally, they sneered about why Soul is waiting for her in front of a commons that belonged to neither him nor her.

They didn’t come close to the truth.

Soul wishes that Maka and Kid would come out sooner, chastising himself for coming earlier than their appointed time. He checks his enchanted pocket watch and focuses on the clouds that move across the background. It’s gift from Kid, charmed to show the state of the sky above Soul with deadly accuracy. He has a unique hand in magical objects, possibly a skill that he received from his stepfather, Professor Eibon.

Involuntarily, Soul remembers that Kid is another student plagued with the same animosity that Maka faced. Kid, the son of the headmaster, the stepson of another professor, is fated to be another hot topic in the hallways. From eccentric to tedious, and nit-picky to unaware, Kid has been called the entire spectrum of labels by those who couldn’t quite wrap their heads around him.

Perhaps that’s why they avoid him, Soul thinks. Despite him being in one the house most reputable for their hospitality and warmth, Kid prefers to stay with his unique group of friends rather than anyone else. He makes no effort to conform, and that’s probably why Soul doesn’t hide himself in front of Kid either.

A rumbling sound alerts his attention to his left side. The barrels beside him quiver, expanding until a nice opening is formed, and out comes Maka, and then Kid.

“Soul!” Maka says, bouncing to his side and hugging him tightly. “You came early.”

It is a wonder how Maka isn’t the one who belongs to Hufflepuff; her smiles should’ve easily given her the clear. He reaches to carry the basket hanging off from her arm, but she slaps him away.

Soul sighs, “I wasn’t waiting long. Are you two ready?”

Kid nods to him as a greeting. “The sky is clear today. It should be optimal weather.”

“Look at what the house elves gave us! Lots of sweets and finger foods. I can’t wait to eat them.”

“Be patient,” Kid says, plucking the basket away. “The last time we had something planned, you ate half of the basket before we reached our destination.”

She pouts, “The courtyard is close this time.”

As he watches their banter, Soul couldn’t help but to notice other voices overshadowing theirs.

She just wants to marry into power, the whispers carry. Anyone would do, so long as they were rich.

Plot twist, the two guys are dating instead.

So who do you think she’ll choose? I prefer the moody one.

How weird is it to date someone outside of your house, though? Let alone the both of them, at the same time.

“Soul?” Kid calls.

Maka looks behind her in worry.

He realizes that he’s stopped in the middle of the hallway, and moves his feet again. “Sorry, what were you saying?” His mind still pricks with annoyance and anxiety.

Instead of answering his question, Kid waits for Soul to catch up, and he says softly, “Don’t worry about them. You have us.” He slips his hand into Soul’s, who then squeezes it tightly.

The space on his other side is immediately filled, too. Maka holds his hand and grins. “Fuck ‘em. Let’s go eat good.”

Once they reach the courtyard, they lay a blanket on top of the grass and climb onto it together. Maka uncaps a muggle thermal mug, while Kid frets about whether there really is enough food for all three of them. Maka hushes him, handing him a cup of warm tea, and tells him that he is the one who packed the basket. He is over prepared, as always, she jokes.

Before Soul could lay down, Kid passes his cup to him, raising an eyebrow. It doesn’t seem like Maka is pouring another one, so he takes it, sipping on it and blushing at the thought of an indirect kiss. They call him silly, but endearingly so.

The three of them continue their date beyond the eyes of the people around them, and Soul knows that their love goes further than the spread of whispers.

Prompt-

Black Star’s kisses can be chaste and quick, but usually they are hilariously sloppy affairs, and he will not infrequently blow wet raspberries into Maka’s neck while she laughs and squirms and pretends to try to escape. More than anything, they are comforting in an clumsy sort of way, an indulgence in chaos that Maka so rarely allows herself.

Crona is carefully observant under their self-deprecating uncertainty, and Maka is drawn toward their quiet kindness like a magnet to metal.

She does her best to keep this to herself. She fails, of course, because apparently she has a Thing for observant people, because why else would Black Star have Crona under one arm and (she wants to die of embarrassment) Kid under the other?

“There she is— eep, what was that for?” Star yelps, and nurses the side where Maka had jabbed a reprimanding knuckle.

“Don’t make fun of them,” she tells her boyfriend.

“I would never,” Star sniffs, wounded. “I was just saying that people who like each other should date.”

Crona looks confused. “You’re dating her, though,” they tell Star, and Maka is at a loss to parse why that statement should cause confusion.

“I am,” Star says, unconcerned, tangling his fingers with Maka’s.

Crona looks curiously at Maka, who smiles back and hopes that the thudding of her heart doesn’t manifest in her cheeks. “Do you like me?” they ask. “Star says you do, but it’s not nice to assume.” They look back at Star. “I-I mean, it’s not that I don’t believe you, but, um…”

“It’s best to hear it from the source,” Star agrees, rubbing his thumb over Maka’s first knuckle. “You do like them, right?” he adds. “I mean, I’m like ninety percent sure, but there’s always a chance I messed that up.”

“I—” Maka glances at Kid, who is observing them with polite curiosity on his face. “They’re a wonderful friend.”

“That’s not a no,” Star points out, and raises their clasped fingers. “We’re best friends, too.”

Crona’s kisses are surprisingly deep, and longer than any Maka has ever shared with Black Star. They cling in a way that has Maka clinging back, shy and fumbling and almost innocent, a delicately flowering romance that Maka has never quite known.

Maka has no memory of the bulky guy waiting outside her classroom.

“Maka, right?” he asks, and she stops for him.

“Yes?” she replies, and, oh, he’s handsome.

He looms over her for a moment, muscles jumping in his crossed arms. “I heard… that you’re dating Crona now.”

Maka’s brows snap together. “I don’t see why that concerns you, but yes, I am.”

He nods. “I, um,” he starts, but cuts himself off with a sigh. “Look, there’s no good way to say this. I’m their ex— one of their exes, at least, and, well, they still mean a lot to me, even though I don’t talk to them anymore. I just wanted to warn you. Be careful with them. And with yourself. And avoid the fuck out of their mom, seriously, that lady is batshit.”

“Oh. Thanks?” Maka replies, caught off guard by the information. “This isn’t about Star?”

The guy gives her an odd stare. “Who?”

Kid’s kisses are as precise as the man himself. Maka relaxes into them and lets herself be carried away by Kid’s comforting certainty.

Maka turns to the woman beside her. “Can I help you?” she asks, a smile plastered on her face.

The woman studies Maka for a moment longer before nodding. “Yup,” she announces, “perfectly symmetric.”

Maka blinks. “Excuse me?”

The woman grins. “I like you,” she says matter-of-factly, and when Maka splutters, she corrects, “I can see why Kiddo likes you.” She sticks out one hand. “Name’s Liz. I’m Kid’s big sis.”

Maka shakes the offered hand uncertainly. “Nice to meet you. Did you have to stare?”

Liz’s brows lift. “Just wanted to see how you’d react. Normally people get too scared to talk to me.” Her grin sharpens. “You’re a cool chick, Albarn. Treat him well.”

Maka opens her mouth to say yes, of course, and ignores the guilt attacking her heart.

“You know I’m dating two other people, right?” Maka blurts.

Kid pauses, his lips pressed to Maka’s knuckles. “Yes. Why?”

Maka stares at him and wonders how she managed to find partners (and so many partners) who seem to have gotten over the hang-ups that plague her. “I just, um, thought you should be aware. Does… does your sister know?”

“I don’t know how she would know,” Kid muses, “but I wouldn’t be surprised if she did.” He tilts his head. “Is there a problem?”

Maka can’t stop the relieved grin that creeps across her lips. “No. No problem.”

“He’s cute,” Black Star says, and Maka looks critically at the tall, platinum-blond guy walking past them.

“A little,” she admits, and looks back at him. “What about me?”

He laughs and leans in to deliver a kiss-turned-raspberry to her cheek. “You’re the cutest,” he says, and Maka laughs even as she complains about the slobber on her cheek. “Back me up,” he adds to the others.

“You’re always cute,” Kid says absently, but his eyes do flicker up from his laptop to meet Maka’s, and he smiles a little bit as he looks back at the screen.