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grand-theft-carbohydrates · 2 months ago

Text

-can a boy who hops really fall in love with a girl who flies?-

"Watch me, Swallow!" cried the frog, "this'll be the one, I just know it!"

The frog hurled himself out of the water with every ounce of all his might, and went sailing through the air. His wet little body landed with a splat against the lichen-covered side of the old well. Surface tension kept him stuck there for a brief moment before gravity re-exerted its influence and he slid down the stone wall like a blob of snot, tumbling back into the water with a gentle plop.

The swallow quickly hopped over to the rim of the well and peered over the edge. She sat there motionlessly, her beady eyes fixed on the dark, rippling water from where the frog vanished, counting the seconds. She did not look away until a sleek, green head broke through the surface at last.

"I made it halfway up, didn't I?" Frog asked proudly.

"I don't see what you're so happy about," Swallow sniffed, making a show of preening her glossy wings, "you're still nowhere near the top."

"Yeah, but last month I could only make it a quarter of the way up, and last week I was almost at the half-way mark," said Frog, not at all dampened by Swallow's grim dose of reality. "I'm making more progress every day. If I work hard enough, I'll be able to jump out of here soon."

"Hm," the swallow gave a non-committal chirp. She had soared across continents and had seen frogs of every shape and size. None of them could make it out of a well so steep and high, and this one was fast approaching the limits of his nature. He would make it to the half-way mark, and rise no more. The old well that had harboured him as a tadpole would also be his grave, and that was the cold, hard truth. The kindest thing for her to do would be to kill Frog's stupid dream before it grew and festered, like removing a maggot from an open wound; one sharp twist, and it would be over. It would sting and bleed, he might even hate her for it, but eventually the injury would heal over cleanly. He would make peace with his position in life. She would take to the skies once more. It would be the healthy thing for everyone.

But when the frog asked, again and again, "Will you watch me?" the swallow always kept her doubts to herself and answered, "Yes."

He kept wasting his strength on these fruitless leaps, burning through what meagre prey that fell into his well. She kept putting herself in harm's way by watching him. Perched on the edge of this stone rim, she was vulnerable to attacks, to foxes slinking along the ground and hawks patrolling the sky. Her pretty, scissor-shaped tail still bore the marks of a particularly harrowing close call. This could only end badly for both of them; Frog might have been ignorant to the world beyond his stone circle, but she ought to know better.

"It helps to have a goal," the frog panted. "After I jump out, I'm going to marry you! We'll travel the world together, and you can show me all the wonderful things you talked about."

"Marry me?" The swallow stopped mid-preen and stared down at him, as if the frog had suddenly spouted a second head.

"Yeah! I want to be your husband! I've been making a list on where we'd go after the wedding. First we'll visit your family-in-the-barn, then we'll go to the city and say hi to your cousins-in-the-rafters. I don't know where my folks are, cause I was hatched in this well so we'll skip that part. After that, we'll go to the Western Sea to see the Dragon King--"

"I can't swim, stupid," The swallow pointed out with a derisive laugh. The whole thing was so outlandish she might as well play along. Poke holes in this fantasy until he dropped the subject.

"I know that!" said the frog, who had in fact forgotten, "...you can wait on the beach, I'll pop down and ask him to come out."

"And if his royal highness says no?"

"Then he's a prick who's not worth seeing," the frog said hotly, offended by the mere thought of such a thing. Swallow was the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on, with her black, iridescent wings that shone like a rainbow, and bright red crown which shamed the sunset. Anyone who refused to see her had to be blind and stupid and was not worth the time of day. The two-leggers who used to visit his well and scoop up water liked to talk about wondrous creatures called "fairies" who lived up in Heaven. When Swallow flew down the first time and sang her song, Frog's heart was beating so fast he thought it would burst right out of his chest. He was dead certain a real fairy couldn't possibly compare to her. "If the Dragon King proves to be a royal prick, I'll steal his pearl and bring it back for you. We'll be gone before he even realises it's missing!"

"You're going to bring calamity down on tianxia if you do that."

"Who gives a shit about tianxia?" answered the frog, "I only care about making you happy."

At these words, the swallow leaped up and hopped rapidly around the rim several times, as she sometimes did when the rocks were hot. This confused the frog, because the day was overcast and the rocks could not have been hot--he was very attentive to these matters, being an amphibian who was vulnerable to drying out. The swallow did not speak, and the frog was afraid he'd upset her, so he decided to give her some space and practice his jumps, hoping to impress her this time. Unfortunately, he was tired and his belly was empty, so they weren't anywhere near as awesome as the first one. He made up his mind to wake up extra early tomorrow morning and have a big breakfast of gnats. Then he can train longer while it was still light.

"Well, will you do it?" the frog asked, floating gently to the surface after his final attempt of the day. "Aiyouyou, my legs are sore…"

"Do what?" said the swallow, pretending not to understand.

"Be my wife," said Frog, "Please, I love you so much. I've never been in love before, so I'm not sure what it feels like, but when you landed here for the first time and told me about the Outside I felt something I had never felt before. A feeling that was much too big for one frog. Like…like trying to drink a whole thunderstorm of rain at once. I thought I would explode--!"

"Ew."

"…in a good way, of course," Frog amended, "I want to feel like this forever and ever and ever."

"Don't say such stupid things," said Swallow, puffing up her feathers, though she was not at all cold. "I'm a bird. You're a frog. It'll never work."

"Why not?"

"Because it's never been done! We're two different creatures! There must be laws about it, or something…"

"How can you know it won't work if it's never been done?"

"It just won't, ok?" the swallow snapped, "stop being annoying or I'll fly off!"

Frog did not stop. He was very persistent. Ever since the day his tail grew into legs and his gills became lungs, he'd been reaching for things that were higher than him. He caught all his bugs this way. "Do you want to stay with me?" he asked quietly.

"I'm here, aren't I?" the swallow scoffed, refusing to meet his eyes. She started scratching at the crumbling mortar with her claws, like she was hoping to find a worm inside the rocks.

"And do I make you happy?"

"You make me want to peck you to death!"

"Would pecking me to death make you happy?"

The swallow shut her beak stubbornly and glared off into the distance. Frog swam over to one of the jutting rocks and climbed up as high as he could go. "Swallow, Swallow, if you really hate me just chirp once and I'll never talk about marriage again. But if you do like me, even a tiny little bit, then say nothing at all."

Swallow glared at him so venomously it would have made a cobra tremble, but she did not make a single sound, nor did she fly off. Her silence was as good as the world's loudest declaration. Frog was so happy he forgot about his sore legs. He leapt into the water and started doing summersaults.

"I know I'm very ugly, but I promise I'll make a good husband," he said breathlessly, in between his tricks, "I'll catch lots of bugs for you to eat. The biggest bluebottles, and the fattest, sweetest worms. I'll find a nice, big pond for your eggs, and chase away any fish that tries to eat them."

"I don't lay eggs in ponds, stupid," sighed the swallow, hiding her face in her wing, "I lay them in trees."

"Then I'll chase away all the fishes in the trees! I'm very fast!"

Swallow leapt up from her perch in a flurry of feathers, and in an instant she was gone. Vanished into the small circle of sky that had once been the frog's entire world. For a moment, Frog was so shocked he didn't even cry out. He floated there numbly inside his dark, empty well. Now as silent as a tomb without the swallow to talk to. The cosy walls that had once been his home suddenly felt hateful. Like the cavernous throat of some great beast, keeping him trapped in here. Why did he have to open his big mouth and ruin the moment? What if she was gone for good? Each second alone felt like an eternity past. Suddenly, the frog heard the whirring of wings, and his beautiful swallow appeared silhouetted in the opening, a dozen twigs clasped in her beak.

"Swallow! You came back!"

Swallow did not answer him. She threw the twigs over the side of the well, and was off before they had time to fall into the water. Frog ducked quickly under the surface to avoid getting hit. This was good! She could chuck all the things she wanted at him. In fact, she could stay mad at him forever if it pleased her, just as long as she never left him.

Swallow came back and threw in a large tuff of grass, still green, with the roots attached. Then a small pinecone. Then three empty snail shells. Most of the stuff wasn't even that heavy, it was like she was just picking up random objects and throwing them in for the hell of it. This went on until the sun had set, and Frog was left floating in a pool of detritus with scarcely any room to kick. Swallow swooped down at last to rest, her cloud-white breast heaving from the exertion.

"I'm tired and it's too dark," she said with great dignity, after catching her breath. "That old bastard owl is eyeing me up, so I'm going to bed. I'll come back tomorrow and add more stuff."

"More stuff?" croaked the confused frog.

"I'm going to fill up the well. Make the water level rise so you can get out."

"What?" Frog cried out, his voice bouncing around the stone walls as if the rocks themselves were shocked by the news, What…? What…? What…? It was not because he couldn't understand her, but because it seemed totally impossible. Too wonderful to be true.

"You want to get out, don't you?" Swallow said peevishly, "you'll never be able to do it with stubbornness and brute strength alone. This requires strategy."

"I…but it's so big. It'll take you twenty years at least!"

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm not filling up the whole thing," the swallow snapped, "I'll just fill it half way and you can jump the rest. So don't you dare get fat and complacent, because once the ten years are up, I won't add a single twig more! I won't have a lazy frog for a husband, you hear me? So you better work hard!"

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

"I have something to confess," Liu Bang murmured with down-cast eyes, he shifted closer until they were sitting knee to knee. This was a baited hook if there ever was one, but Lü Zhi was in a biting mood.

"What is it?" she huffed, turning away from the mirror with a regal air.

Liu Bang grinned like a fox with a stolen egg, "…you'll have to reach inside my shirt."

"Why, you--!" Lü Zhi hissed indignantly. This dirty old man enjoyed playing his obscene games, twisting the natural roles of men and women so that she was the pursuer instead of a passive object of his affections, as was the proper way of things.

"What?" Liu Bang cried, all injured innocence which fooled Lü Zhi not at all. "It's just my chest! There's nothing untoward about it at all. The only thing you'll find in there is my loyal, beating heart."

Loyal. That was probably meant to flatter her. But all Lü Zhi could think about was that Cao woman in the house down the street and the bastards Liu Bang had fathered with her. The only thing that stopped him taking her as a concubine was because he couldn't afford it, and now that was going to change. Fresh from his successful peasant rebellion, Old Liu's star was on the rise. The higher he climbed, the more precarious her position became. Just the thought of it made her burn with hatred, like someone was pouring molten lead down her throat.

She made Liu Bang. It was her family's silver. Her tireless work. When he gate-crashed her father's party twenty years ago, he'd been nothing but a peasant with a brilliant smile and snowflakes in his hair. A lump of raw clay, waiting for a pair of hands. A frog squatting in the bottom of his well, convinced that he had seen all the world had to offer.

Before twenty-seven-year-old Liu Erlang met fifteen-year-old Lü Guniang, he had been coasting along on dumb luck and bullheadedness. Couldn't learn his letters. Couldn't hold down a job. A lovable rogue on the fast track to becoming just another drunken street-swindler once old age and hard living caught up with him. She saved him from that fate. Taught him discipline, tact and subterfuge. Filled him with a desperate hunger that had him pacing the streets from dawn till dusk, searching for something that was too big for Pei County to give him.

Those had been the best years of her life. She pushed him to take higher and higher offices, taught him how to pull the right strings, grease the right palms. Watched him basking in that glory, racing through life with the wind in his hair. She was the silent, swelling tide, raising her prized treasure-ship higher and higher, carrying him over treacherous rocks, skirting ferocious whirlpools and out-running ravenous beasts. The political climate had been inhospitable, but where others perished in grand, hubristic explosions, or withered away in the fog of mediocrity, the two of them were riding high after high. Unstoppable. Inseparable.

But of course, the good times couldn't last forever. Heaven's favor proved to be as capricious as the four winds. First she lost her youth, then her beauty, and finally her husband's favor, having failed to birth anything except daughters. His career slowed, and then stalled. By then, Liu Bang was middle-aged and had given up on becoming anything more than a small-town sheriff. He became depressed and complacent, falling into the embrace of his wine-cup and mistress every night. She was the one dragging him along with nothing but spite, willpower and sunk-cost fallacy. She kept an iron grip on their finances, watched out for new opportunities and sent timely gifts to his colleagues, biding their time, building up a storehouse of favours to call on.

She had walked across knives and fire for him, and what did she get in return? A rival on the verge of usurping her position as main wife. Extra mouths to gobble the food that rightly belonged to her legitimate children. A man's loyalty was different from a woman's loyalty.

Lü Zhi grabbed a fistful of Liu Bang's coat and wrenched it open. There was a loud ripping sound as the side tie of Liu Bang's coat gave out--another thing for her to mend that later--and his right lapel came undone in her hand. She had managed to pull it completely out of his belt--no small feat, considering how much his gut had grown over the years. Part of his undershirt had gone with it too, so now his clothes were hanging slightly open. There was a moment of absolute stillness as the two of them stared down mutely at her handiwork. It was actually a rather modest exposure, nothing a few hours of walking couldn't also accomplish. She was a married woman, anything a man had that was worth seeing, she had already seen. Plenty of farmers went shirtless in the summertime. The effect was singular because this had been forceful. Against his will, following her will. Lü Zhi could not seem to tear her eyes away from the length of Liu Bang's sunburned neck and the sliver of bare chest she had exposed, milk-white and vulnerable.

Liu Bang laughed breathlessly, "have I really been away so long?" He tried to play it off manfully, but his eyes were wide and hungry. Lu Zhi's stomach gave a swoop. This was the middle of the day. Guests would be arriving soon. It felt more obscene than seeing him fully naked.

Liu Bang took her hand slowly and guided it into his clothes. Her husband's skin was shockingly hot, his chest rose and fell rapidly under her hands. Her fingers traced the dip in his muscular chest, the sparse, wiry hairs, and finally closed upon a small, brocaded pouch.

She made every item her husband wore, this was not one of hers. When she opened the drawstring, two pieces of broken hairpin fell into her lap. It was one of the ivory pieces that came with her dowry. She had put this one in his hair the morning after he had taken her maidenhead. The pieces were as warm as his skin.

'At least he hadn't sold it to buy that flashy jade pendant,' She thought coldly.

"I didn't want to tell you about it." Liu Bang whispered, "because I knew how much it would upset you. I had a whole story planned while I was traveling here; how I got attacked by three hundred fierce brigands; how I was accosted by a penniless grandmother and her starving, orphaned grandchildren. But the truth is, I broke it because I was stupid and careless. That's it. I have no excuse."

Liu Bang stared into her face with a pathetic air. Lü Zhi gave him absolutely nothing. Liu Bang used his words to ensnare. Lü Zhi could flay people alive with her silences. They were equally matched in that regard.

"I carried the pieces with me, wondering what I was going to do." Liu Bang continued, "First, I kept it in my pocket, but I was afraid someone might steal it. Then I held it in my hand, but I was afraid I might drop it. Finally, I put it in a pouch and wore it around my neck. I wanted to take it back to you, so we can keep one half each. We're like the two pieces of this hairpin, even if we're separated, we still belong together. Wife, if you're mad at your useless husband, you should let it out. Yell and hit me if you want, but please don't hold it in. It's bad for your health."

"And let you play the victim? I don't think so. You don't deserve such easy absolution." In spite of it all, she was starting to soften. She folded the broken shaft into her handkerchief, and Liu Bang took the flowery decoration. If she ever got angry enough, she could at least stab him with it. "Is that all? Do you really expect me to believe this piece of junk was eating you up inside?"

"You're so cruel to this poor husband. He bares his soul to you and you mock his pain."

Lü Zhi picked up her lip-paper and made a show of applying rouge to her mouth, "Get on with it."

"A strange thing happened to me on the road. I dug this jade pendant out of the ground and Zhang Liang had some very cryptic things to say about it."

An auspicious jade piece and words from the genius strategist. Liu Bang had her full attention. She looked at him sharply from the mirror, "what did he say?"

"Many strange things. I didn't understand it at the time--or rather, I wasn't ready to, but I think I get it now. Do you ever wonder why the rats in the storehouses grow fat but the ones in the sewers stay thin and wretched?"

"It’s clearly their environment."

"Yeah. At the end of the day, they're both rats. Nothing about their natures are different, they both have whiskers and tails. So what about people? Who among us are fattening up in the storehouses, and who are wallowing in shit? If we're all rats, what's to stop me from moving into the storehouse to become the biggest, fattest rat of them all?" Liu Bang leaned forwards, and whispered hotly into her ear, "I'm going to replace him."

Lü Zhi gave him a steady, calculating look. "You're not talking about Xiang Yu." The hegemon-king.

"No, I'm talking about him." Liu Bang answered, "Qin Shi Huang." The First Emperor of Qin. There was a galaxy's worth of difference between the two names. The little frog had just told her he wanted to turn into a dragon.

"This is the first time I've ever said these words out loud. Even to myself. I was afraid to take that leap because then it would be real, and I would have to do it." Liu Bang took her hands, "I know you think I bed other women because I don't cherish you anymore. That's not true. They mean nothing to me, I forget them the moment I leave their beds. You're the only one who's on my mind, day and night. Do you think I could trust any of those silly girls enough to tell them these things? Do you think any of them could ever hope to understand my ambitions? To be my wife?"

Lu Zhi said nothing in reply, but when Liu Bang pressed himself against her and put his lips to her neck, she let him do it, "Well, what do you think, My Lady? I think Empress Lü has a nice ring to it."

Lu Zhi retracted her hands primly and took a deep breath, considering her words carefully, "the commoners already love you. It shouldn't be difficult to keep their support, all you need to do is stay humble and relatable. Remember, you're one of them; a man of the people, you understand their struggles and you have their best interests at heart. With the nobles, you must make them underestimate you. Play up the fact you're an uneducated peasant. Drink, whore and gamble. Be as reckless as possible without losing support. Xiang Yu is powerful and competent in his own right, he can pick and choose his followers so they're always uneasy around him. You have to poach his best men, make them believe you can't live without them, that you'll reward them handsomely when you come into power. This will attract opportunists who are as sly as yourself, people who will do anything it takes to win--they'll be treacherous, of course, but you can beat them with experience. They'll think you're just a charismatic face who is easy to manipulate, do not dissuade them of that."

Liu Bang nodded along eagerly, mouthing her words silently, like she was an oracle bone inscribed by Heaven's own hand. His admiration was a heady thing and Lu Zhi could hear a faint roaring in her ears, growing louder and louder with each passing moment. The wind was picking up. The tides were rising again.

Notes:

Liu Erlang: nickname "second son", lang is used to describe a handsome young man.

Lü Guniang: nickname "young lady". These nicknames combined lends a very ironic love story vibe.

tolkien once said allegory was stupid and a cowards way out. but tolkien's not here so LETS GO BABEY!!!!

i wrote this enormous, rambling dissertation about liu bang and lu zhi's relationship, only to toss the whole thing out when i realised a dumb little fable would convey the whole thing 800 times better and 800 words shorter.

this story draws inspiration from the myth jingwei fills the sea, where the creator-god nuwa drowns at sea and is reincarnated as a bird named jingwei, who dedicates her entire existence to filling the eastern sea. it fits lu zhi pretty well, since she is both a powerful force and a victim

Liu Bang's brilliant hairpin splitting was stolen wholecloth from Bai Juyi's poem "the Song of Big Sad"

any story is a romantic love story if you pause it at the right time...

#chu han #my writing #Would You Still Love Me If I Was A Frog?#lu zhi #liu bang

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dellalyra · 2 years ago

Note

I looked at the prompt list, but i literally COULD NOT decide, but i was thinking, what if Megumi or Tsumiki had a really bad nightmare? How would Gojo and Reader help them? I was thinking baby Megumi, in his sleepy, not being as menacing and just being scared and asking reader for help (cause gojo would bully him)

Also Ily, thank you for your service to society.

A/N: cryin screamin throwin up i can’t this was so sweet to write I think I got a cavity. Having soft sleepy baby Megumi made me so happy to write bc I feel he definitely had his vulnerable tiny little boy moments with these two after he settled in - still a prickly little cactus man most days but occasionally he just needed a cuddle - bc who wouldn’t? Especially if it’s Gojo giving them. Also ily and thank you so much these kind of messages MAKE MY FUCKIN DAY. Keep em coming!!!!!

listen to: luv note - chloe moriondo

la lune - billie marten

A Little Extra Love

Waking up to the sound of obvious nightmares wasn’t unusual for you. You’d been sleeping beside Satoru for a couple of years now, and you’ve shared rooms with Geto and Shoko - the four of you have seen too much shit to sleep unscathed. At least once a month, you’d be sitting with Satoru, still shaking and crying from the lingering feelings of fear and pain stemming from the nightmare - of Riko, of Suguru, of Toji - of losing you. You were no stranger yourself, dreams of bloodied white hair in your lap and vacant blue eyes with a stab wound through his throat plagued you - the image of Suguru holding a young girl's corpse, of the last time you saw Haibara all poisoned your sleep now and again.

So waking at 2am to the sounds of soft whimpers made you immediately turn around to wake your boyfriend from what you expected to be his nightmare - only to find him fast asleep, hair wild across the pillow and drool leaking from the corner of his mouth as he lay starfished across the bed. There was no relief however in seeing a peaceful Satoru - because that meant it was one of the kids.

They’d been with you for about 9 months now, and it was almost Megumi’s 7th birthday.

You bolted up, trying to stay silent as you creeped out your door and ran down the hallway to the kids rooms - the sound was coming from Megumi’s room so you softly opened the door and came face to face with a sight that broke your heart. Megumi was clutching his frog plush so tight that his small knuckles were white and his face was contorted in fear - whimpers and soft cries coming from his trembling mouth.

Dashing across to his bed, you gently sat on the bed beside him. You knew that waking anyone - let alone a 6 year old - abruptly from a nightmare would only cause more fear, so you began to softly coo his name and stroke his soft black hair away from his face. After about 20 seconds, you placed a hand on his little chest and rubbed soothing circles - causing his eyes to flash open and the frog to be clutched even tighter to his chest as he let out a yelp at whatever woke him, eyes wide and petrified frantically scanning the room before he surprised you by flinging his tiny arms around your neck and clutching you right and crawling his way into your lap.

“You’re okay sweet boy, you’re safe. It was a nasty dream, that’s all.” You coo into his hair, with the softest voice you can muster. You hate seeing him like this, you wish he didn’t have the trauma he did so he could worry about things normal little boys did instead.

He sniffled into your chest, head pressed into your fluffy pyjama top face first. You continue the slow cycles on his back and wrap your arm around his legs to keep his close to you.

“Do you wanna talk about it, baby?” You ask.

He shudders, but nods.

“He c-came to get us, my dad, he came in here and took me and ‘Miki and said w-we had to leave with him to the big Zen’in family and never come home again and h-he said you didn’t w-want us and-” and the sobs took over as you got the gist of the dream and if the ghost of Toji Fushiguro was in front of you right now you’d kill him and send him back to hell again.

“Oh, my sweet boy - that’s never gonna happen. We’re never leaving you or Tsumiki, we always will want you guys - we love you both so much. I promise, no matter how much me and Satoru annoy you guys you can’t get rid of us, ‘Kay? We’re a family now. Your dad isn’t taking you from us, pinky promise.”

‘Because your unofficially adopted father killed him and him and I threatened the Zen’in family so much that they’re too scared to come within a mile of you two!’ Is the bit you leave out.

You also leave out that you and Satoru are looking at legally adopting them - that’s for another, happier time.

He sticks his little pinkie finger out and locks it with yours, sniffling a tiny bit more and rubbing his face (snot and all) onto your koala print top, but you couldn’t care less when you can feel the shaking start to settle.

“We can stay with you guys forever, ‘Miki too? Even though she has no magic stuff like me and you guys because the Zen’in said that she wasn’t worth keeping and -” He asks.

“Megumi - we don’t want you two because of what you can or can’t do - we love you guys as Megumi and Tsumiki, nothing else. Even if neither of you could do any of that stuff, you’re stuck with us, okay? Satoru and I have enough magic to keep us all safe - the whole family, okay?” You hate the Zen’in family for even planting that fear in his little brain.

“I love you too.” He says as his tears dry and you wipe his little face. This is only the second time he’s said it to you both, once was a few weeks ago when you and Satoru put him to sleep and both whispered “love you!” into his softly lit room and he whispered “love you guys too.”

You both sobbed that night - you’re both only 21 - can’t be doing that bad of a job with them if he says it back, can you?

“You’re such a brave boy. If you get more yucky dreams again, you come get me or Satoru, okay?” You plonk a kiss on his spiky hair.

“Just you. Not Satoru.” He looks down, fiddling with your necklace.

“Why not, sweetie?”

“I - don’t want him to know.”

“About the nightmares?”

He nods.

“He - he’s the strongest. I don’t want him to think I’m not brave or strong.” He says, words that shouldn’t even compute that way in his head.

“Absolutely not - baby, who told you that being scared makes you not brave or strong?” You tilt his little head up.

“My dad.”

“Well your dad’s dumb then. You can only be really brave if you’re scared. Being scared and fighting anyway is the bravest thing a person can do, I promise. Think about it this way - who’s the bravest and strongest person you know?” You ask as he giggles at you saying Toji’s dumb (you’ve plenty of other names too for that man.)

“You and Satoru.” He says with such resolve your heart melts, you expected him to say Satoru, so being included felt good.

“Satoru and I both get nightmares too, I had one last week, Satoru a few nights ago. It doesn’t mean you’re not brave or strong - it just means you need a little extra love, that’s all.” You nod at him, and you seem the surprise in his eyes at the revelation that the strongest and bravest people he knows get nightmares too, shattering the words Toji had planted into smithereens. How could nightmares mean you’re not those things if you guys had them? You had to know, because you and Aunty Koko were the smartest people in the world. Maybe Ijichi too.

He’s quiet for a minute.

“So if I have a bad dream - I can come get you or Satoru?” He asks.

“You can get more or him for anything at all, honey, not just bad dreams. We’re always here for you, and nothing will change our minds about how much we love you, or how brave and strong and smart and kind you are - ‘Kay?” He nods into your chest at this.

He settles down, small fingers still fiddling with your pendant.

“C’mon, do you wanna come stay with us in our room tonight?” You say.

He thinks for a second.

Then nods, and yawns.

So you lift him onto your hip, ensuring he has his frog and his water bottle and carry him down the hall into your room. Satoru’s still splayed across the bed like he’s determined to use every single centimetre of his long ass body to claim territory.

You point at the drool on his face and Megumi giggles, hearing Satoru order dessert in his sleep.

You lay him down between you both, and crawl in under the covers as he settles in - the movement stirring Satoru, who’s eyes open and he looks in confusion.

“Princess whatcha doin’ up? S’late. Wait - what you doin’ here kid?” He slurs, lifting himself onto his side to face you both.

Megumi looks at you and you smile, tucking him into the bed with you both.

“‘Gumi had a bad dream, ‘toru - so he’s going to stay with us tonight, a little extra love - yeah?” You say, petting both your boys hair. ‘A little extra love’ was what you had said to Satoru when you found him awake after a nightmare back in first year of high school. He smiled at that, eyes dropping back closed as he ruffled Megumi’s hair.

“Bad dream are the worst, aren’t they kiddo? I hate ‘em. If any bad guys come near you I’ll blast them into space, ‘kay? You just shout for me in your dream and let me deal with ‘em.” Satoru mumbles, sleep quickly taking him again, as he shuffles in closer to the middle and you both wrap an arm around the little boy who is snuggling in to return to sleep.

“Promise?” Megumi asks, poking Satoru’s nose.

“Pinky promise.” Satoru replies, lips quirked but eyes shut.

Megumi smiles softly to himself, and hugs his frog and shuts his eyes.

You let out a yawn, eyes closing heavy.

“Goodnight boys, I love you both.”

“Night Y/N. Luh’ you too.” Megumi mumbles, hair splayed almost identically to Satoru’s.

“Night night, Princess. Love ya’ always, you too kiddo.”

No more nightmares that night, just four sleeping soundly in a quiet cottage.

#jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #anime #family formations extras #family formations au #family formations drabbles

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brave-and-gentle · 3 months ago

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EB I am curious!! I've always loved your hcs, so I wanted to ask: do you have any headcanons for jeanpiku's kids, esp in a modern setting? 🥹💜 I love seeing jean as a girl dad, but I'm always intrigued to hear other people's takes!

OOOO, ty for asking!! This was so fun because while I am constantly thinking about dilf Jean, I actually haven't thought as much about Jeanpiku as parents:

they have a ton of kids, it's a jeanpiku herd, i'm talking four kids MINIMUM. this is partially because they both come from smaller families, and were envious of the chaos of larger families. also jean thinks there's something very primal and so deeply attractive about pieck carrying their children, so once one's out, they can't help but think about the next. these two are so stupid horny for each other, they can't keep their pants on around each other for very long.

girl dad jean for life!!!! they have girl after girl for a while, and while they're both thrilled, they also kinda wanna keep going until maybe, just maybe, they have a son (yes they both know gender is fake and multiple times pieck's been like 'idk maybe we should just stop because one of our girls might not actually be a girl, who's to say??')

jean cries every single time another of their children is born, and pieck is like "boy wtf is wrong with you, were you just trying to squeeze their big heads out of you?? and it's your fault they have big heads!!"

regardless, they eventually do have a boy, poor kiddo, youngest boy with so many older sisters, who spoil him beyond belief so he ends up being just as weird and picky as his dad.

jean really is the best girl dad - he's learned how to brush and do all of their hair, to the point where once they're older, he does their hair for school dances. and for the younger ones, it's tea parties and dolls all day - he's *so there.*

pieck is the breadwinner, while jean is a stay at home dad for a while - he becomes the best cook on the block and everyone wants his scones at the school bake sale.

their son likes to stay home and help jean cook and clean while pieck plays HARD with their girls my god, she's that mom out on the playground with all of them covered in dirt and brings back cool things like bugs and frogs, and jean is mildly annoyed and eventually just fills up a little plastic pool with water in the backyard and insists pieck and the girls rinse off before stepping foot inside the house he just cleaned thank you very much (the bugs and frogs must stay outside or poor jean will have an aneurysm).

the moms at the playground are constantly hitting on jean, but he's so obsessed with pieck that he doesn't even realize it.

seeing the kirstein-finger family walk around together is so fucking funny because you have this hoard of small, dark haired women followed by two lanky looking dudes with sandy hair (though i imagine one of their daughters has lighter hair than the others).

when two of their children come out to their parents, jean and pieck look at each other, laugh, and say "lol yeah same."

mama kirstein is the BEST grandmother, she's loves having so many kiddos around and is constantly coming over with treats and handmade sweaters.

all in all, jean and pieck are fairly laid back parents (except if someone doesn't take their shoes off by the door, they have jean to fear). they trust their kids are doing their best, so while they're all pretty smart, there's nothing wrong with a B- grade. they even become the "cool weed house" when their oldest daughter is a teenager, but they insist on weed outside only.

hell seems like a nice place to be when jean finds out one of their daughters was broken up with, my god he's terrifying, ready to break someone's nose, so pieck has to calm him down and remind him that their daughter will be just fine and has to figure things out on her own.

#jeanpiku parents #your honor i love them #girl dad!jean #ask #EB's thoughts #zuzusexytiems #jeanpiku #jean kirstein #pieck finger #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin

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kaybug88 · 18 days ago

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Random HC cuz' I'm bored

Take some silly lil' headcannones I'm writing while I take a break from writing "WHATS UP DANGER?"

Mina Ashido:

Huge DTI player, like, all day everyday. Vip? Check. Custom Makeup? Check. Faster walking? Check. Double money? Check. She has it all, including every code known to man

If she weren't a hero, she would've gone into something cosmetology related. Nails, hair, makeup, lashes, that kind of thing.

As a little kid, she had a birthday party where someone came as a party princess for her 4th or 5th birthday before her quirk came in. The princess was hugging the kids goodbye, and Mina was SUPER upset that her favorite princess had to go. She held onto the poor girl who was trying to get to another birthday party, and in that moment, Mina's quirk manifested, melting the sparkly pink princess dress, making Mina cry even harder.

"Oh no, I ruined your dress, I'm sorry princess!" "Oh, hon', it's okay- accidents happen." *cries even harder*

Denki Kaminari

Had a kick ass Pokémon card collection from elementary to middle school, and keeps it in his dorm but is afraid to show people because of rude ppl in middle school telling him Pokémon cards were dumb, including a girl he had liked

I can see him liking lemon water but fully denying it when people ask him

I can see his parents getting divorced when he was pretty young, and there was one time where his mom got a boyfriend he did NOT like at all, ended up electrocuting him multiple times before they ended up breaking things off

"Denks, hon', why don't you like him?" "He isn't good enough for you, mommy!" "Why do you say that?" "He doesn't like dinosaurs, who doesn't like dinosaurs?!"

Momo Yaoyorozu:

She LOVES a giant, juicy burger with everything; lettuce, tomatoes, onions, BACON, cheese, everything that belongs on a burger is there.

LOVE LOVE LOVES smutty romance books but won't tell a soul because people think it's weird/gross

At one point at UA, she had a huge thing where she was insecure about her stretch marks REALLY badly, but all the girls in 1A reminded her how beautiful she was and how her body didn't define her, ESPECIALLY YOUR GIRL (Y/N)

"God, I hate my stretch marks." "Girl, what the heck?! Why?" "I don't know... Just makes me feel... fat I guess." "If I ever hear you call yourself fat again I swear on All Might himself that I will slap you. Think of them like tiger stripes! Tigers are wickedly cool, strong, beautiful!"

Katsuki Bakugo:

Afraid for anyone to find out he needs hearing aids from his explosions

Intense skin care routine, has a headband and everything

He has reading glasses, and reads all the time in the comfort of his dorm. Hate me, but I can totally see him reading historical fiction books and wondering how people managed to do anything without quirks.

"Can you believe what it would be like without quirks?" "Not really, why?" "I'm reading this book-" "You read?!" "Shut the hell up! The book I'm reading talked about people in ancient Japan using bows and arrows to fight. Isn't that so weird to think about?" "Bakugo, what on Earth are you saying?" "God, you're too stupid to understand it. Forget it."

Tsuyu Asui:

Loves finger painting and will never stop

Multiple times as a teen, she would sneak out, not to do anything bad, no. She would sneak out to go to the ponds and chill with the frogs because they're most active at night

In elementary, she had this really mean kid that bullied her because of her quirk. This kid would make the most out of hand comments and really tried her hardest to annoy Tsu, but she just wouldn't budge. Until one day, she made a comment about her tongue, which was the final straw for her.

"Eww, why is your tongue so long?!" "Can you stop, please?" "Why would I do that? Your quirk is so- Ack! Ew, ew, ew, get it off me!" "I told you to stop." "Okay, okay! I'll stop, just get the stupid frog off of me!"

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nyx-knacks-writes · 4 months ago

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Daisy and the Beast

A little fic based on a headcanon posted to my other blog. I can't think of any content warnings or spoilers for Broadchurch, but like... Be mindful. Happy (week early) Halloween! 🎃

One part of Alec’s brain thought that he looked stupid. He was a grown man, not a little boy anymore, and he certainly wasn’t the type of grown man who dressed up for Halloween. He wasn’t even really the type of grown man who passed out candy for Halloween. He was more apt to pretend the holiday wasn’t happening and shut himself in the house with a coffee and some case files to avoid the hordes of primary schoolers hopped up on Maltesers and Skittles. All that to say that he wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed to allow his daughter to talk him into this. (The secret had to have been in her masterful kicked-puppy eyes and his pathological inability to say “no” to her without death and injury on the line.)

Daisy was eight years old, and like many girls her age, positively enchanted by Disney movies, particularly the Disney Princess movies. The Little Mermaid, Cinderella, Aladdin, The Princess and the Frog, she’d seen them all. However, her all-time favorite was Beauty and the Beast. There was no contest. After all, what wasn’t there to love? Living furniture, classic musical numbers, and true love’s kiss to wrap it all up in a neat little bow. Alec didn’t quite see the appeal. He could appreciate the hard work that went into the animation, but the real world was a lot crueler than a strong man belittling his Daisy’s intelligence and a group of men trying to kill a beast that they viewed as dangerous. Problems in the real world didn’t magically stop existing because you sang a little song or had a single dance. And he would know. As it turned out, Tess was not fond of dancing. His clumsy-if-well-intentioned attempt to smooth over an argument with a romantic dance had certainly proved that. Talk about only working in the movies.

Back to Daisy. Because she adored Beauty and the Beast so much, she had decided that she wanted to be Belle for Halloween. She’d also decided that she couldn’t possibly be Belle without a Beast, and in the absence of any younger siblings or pets who wouldn’t care what they wore, she’d decided the next best option was her father. Her grumpy, people-hating father who may as well have been a beast himself at times. She’d begged and pleaded like her life depended on it, making promise upon promise upon promise. She’d eat her vegetables, do her chores, go to bed on time (wasn’t she doing that already??), anything and everything to make him say “yes”.

He’d lasted all of five minutes.

So there he stood. Halloween night. In a big, furry Beast mask, a blue and gold suit, a tail, horns, fake claws, and even more fake fur that itched like crazy as Princess Daisy-Belle stood at his side, giggling up at her daddy as he stood stiffly in place. Tess, meanwhile, stood a few feet away with her phone out, snapping picture after picture for the future and completely failing at hiding her laughter.

“Come on, Alec, smile!” she tried, forcing her own smile off of her face. “You don’t want Daisy looking back on these and just remembering you being grumpy, do you?”

“You try smiling when you have polyester fur down your—” he cut himself off with a grumble and forced a happy smile.

“There you are, that’s a love,” Tess replied, still snickering. “All done.”

Alec sighed with relief and turned to his daughter, this time with a genuine smile.

“Alright, wee princess, are ye ready to go?” he asked, scooping her into his arms as she squealed delightedly.

“Yes, Daddy, yes!” Daisy cried back, wrapping her little arms around her father’s neck and squirming like she’d already eaten a kilo of sugary sweets.

“Got yer bucket?” he asked, placing her back on the floor. “Yes!”

“Glowstick?”

“Yes!”

“Shoes?”

“Uhh…” Daisy looked downward, picked up her skirt to see her feet, and ran off to get her shoes. Luckily, they were just a pair of black Mary-Janes rather than anything sparkly, so there would be no need for a second photoshoot. They hadn’t been the shoes that Daisy had wanted, but both Alec and Tess had insisted on practical shoes rather than the tiny yellow heels that had been on display beside the costume. After all, how was the girl meant to trick-or-treat if she was struggling to walk?

As soon as the errant shoes were strapped on, the little group set off to raid the neighborhood candy bowls, full of as much Halloween spirit as they could muster (though it should be said that one member was notably lacking). Overall, it was a pleasant, fruitful venture. Being police, Tess and Alec had done their best to settle in a safe neighborhood in Sandbrook, full of old folks and young couples and positively brimming with free candy, which was all that really mattered on Halloween night. As expected, the father-daughter duo raked in copious amounts of colorful candy. Lollipops, jelly fangs, M&Ms, Skittles, you name it, it was in the bucket. Alec had to wonder, in the back of his mind, if this had been a factor in Daisy’s insistence upon dressing up together. She was a smart kid, so he wouldn’t put it past her to figure out that the cuter she was, the more candy she could get. Eh, it didn’t really matter. She wouldn’t want to dress up with him forever. Even if he did have fur in places where fur should never be, he’d cherish the unrestrained love of his daughter while he still had it.

With aching feet and heavy arms, the Hardys arrived back home just as the porch lights began to wink out. Halloween night was drawing to a close. Being that it was Tuesday, Daisy couldn’t stay up much longer, or she’d be too tired for school. Realistically, her class wouldn’t be doing much of anything the next day anyway, but that didn’t mean that she should be allowed to stay up until midnight cramming her cheeks with chocolate and crisps and whatever other junk people gave out for Halloween. No no no, she was sent off to shower, put on some jammies, brush her teeth, and hop along to bed. When she came out, she made a beeline for Alec, thankfully already changed, and made sure to hug him and thank him and tell him how much she loved him. A happy smile parked itself on his face, and Tess couldn’t help a smile of her own as her husband waltzed into the bedroom and settled beside her under the covers.

“What’s got you so happy?”

“Nothing, love. Just happy to see Daisy so happy. Snickers?” Alec held up a pair of candy bars that he’d pilfered from Daisy’s bucket.

“You didn’t. Stealing from your own daughter?”

“Parent Tax.” Alec shrugged and unwrapped a bar. “Don’t tell me you weren’t going to do the same.”

“Touché, sir.” Tess took the second bar and dug into it, only getting a bite in before turning to press a chocolate-tasting kiss against Alec’s lips.

“Happy Halloween, love.” “Happy Halloween, darlin’.”

#alec hardy #daisy hardy #tess henchard #broadchurch fanfiction #broadchurch fandom #broadchurch #david tennant #halloween #no beta we fail like alec's heart

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animeprincessforever · 5 months ago

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Chuuya X Daughter Reader I Will Always Protect You

Warnings-death

Your POV:

The day I lost my mother was the worst day of my life. I was only 5 years old. I had a happy family. My mother Alice Nakahara and my father Chuuya Nakahara. One dad father told me he was going to be gone for a couple days I smiled and hugged him “I love you papa!” I said with a smile as my mother giggled and said “save some hugs for me.” As my father held me I pushed my mom away from him “my daddy!” My mother giggled “you a daddy’s girl huh?” I smiled and cuddled into father’s chest. Chuuya put me down and said he needed to go and gave my mother a kiss good bye. As a few days past it was quite however mommy said to stay inside. So I did. One day I was happily playing in my favorite pjs (the pajamas-Pin pagePin page) and my favorite plushie daddy got me when he was on the way back from a top secret mission (the plush-swagPinterest) I called him agent penguin. I was snapped out of my play when I heard ‘BANG’ ‘BOOM’ then mommy screaming I jumped up and ran as I was half way down the stairs I saw mommy bleeding. As men rummaged through the house. When they went to attic my mother’s last words to me was “run! I love you my darling!” I ran out as fast as my legs good take me. As I ran I realized I had no idea where I was. Till I heard a familiar voice “(Y/n)? Are you alright?” I looked up and saw Auntie Gin! I hugged her and burst into tears and told her everything. We heard men saying “WHERE IS THE CHILD!” Gin looked at me and held me close and whispered “it’s going to be okay. Hang on to me.”

Time skip-we were in the port mafias hide out. I was sent to be with Mori for the time being. I was quiet. I refused to speak. Memories flashed in my mind of the dreadful scene. I hung on to Agent Penguin. Mori looked at me and said “my dear you have to eat.” I shook my head as i dug my face into my penguin till I heard papa. “Where is my daughter?” He said I looked up and started crying. “Daddy!” I jumped into his arms and cried. “Shhhhh I got you it’s okay.” He said as I cuddled into him. “Boss. I’ll be in my quarters.” He said as he left Mori’s room with me in his arms he got me into different pajamas (the pjs-Green Frog Ears Hoodie Plush Two-Piece Pajamas Set | Cute ...Pinterest) as he put me in his bed he was going to go tell I squealed. “Daddy! Don’t go! I don’t want to loose daddy!” I started crying as he sat by me and cuddled me rubbing my back. “ it’s okay I’m not going anywhere. No one can beat gravity. I will always protect you.” He said as I drifted to sleep.

Tysm for reading. What’s next?

#anime #child reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs chuuya #gin akutagawa #Mori #mori ougai #daughter reader

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rollingsins · 2 years ago

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all hers, part vi

summary: For as long as Tara could remember, she’d had this thing inside her. Ghostface!Tara origin story.

warnings: 18+ reference to murder.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: sorry this one took so long, appreciate all the love for this fic! let me know what you want to see next, looking to maybe take some more smutty suggestions for gf!tara ;)

For as long as Tara could remember, she’d had this thing inside her.

This hot, horrible, blackout anger that lived in her bones. Lurking just under the surface. It left her in shivers, cold sweats. It left her aching, panting. There was nothing quite like it.

Her Dad used to call it “The Rage”.

“Get a handle on The Rage, Tara.” He’d warn before dropping her off at school, “Remember. It’s just an emotion. Like any other emotion. You can control it.”

He was wrong, Tara couldn’t control it. No matter how hard she tried.

She couldn’t control it the day Peter Millwood stole her crayons. She’d whacked him across the face with her ruler with all the might of a four year old girl. Might have done worse had Mrs. Parker not frog-marched her straight to the Principal’s office.

She couldn’t control it the night her older sister Sam had stolen her barbie when she was six. She’d wrapped her hands around Sam’s throat, choking, choking, choking until Sam was screaming and her mother was prying her off and smacking her so hard over the backside it left angry, red welts for days.

Her childhood was scattered with incidents like that. Possessive. Child councilors had whispered to her father. Doesn’t share well with others.

They’d prescribed therapy sessions, pills that made her so sleepy she couldn’t concentrate in class. Her Dad hung up a poster on the back of her door; a picture of a thermometer. A sliding scale of five numbers: one, a little picture of a cartoon boy smiling, was happy. Five was a little old man, scowling and angry.

She’d gone to their sessions over and over. Their words in one ear and out the other. Nothing they said ever worked. “Five.” She’d growled at her father in the backseat of the car on the way home from a soccer match. A girl from the other team had tried to take the ball from her. The coach had stopped Tara before she could tackle her to the ground.

“One.” She’d announced happily sitting in the nurse's office after recess with a swollen hand. A boy much bigger than her had tried to bully her out of her lunch money. Tara had punched him square in the jaw.

Months flew by. Tara watched as her father turmoiled; no pill, no therapy session could fix her.

The night before Tara turned thirteen, her father walked out on them.

Sam blamed herself, but Tara knew the truth. It was her. It was the Rage. He’d spent every spare dime he had trying to fix her but it was impossible. She was a lost cause, after thirteen years, he’d finally figured it out.

Her mom seemed to think so too. She buried herself in work, business trips, vacations, boyfriends. Anything that kept her away from Woodsboro. Away from Tara.

Tara cried herself to sleep for two months straight the night he left.

The Rage had cost her a father, a mother and a sister. It wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t like the things it made her do. It was like this thing inside of her that took over. Like a demon, swallowing her whole. It was angry, violent. It wanted to hurt.

And nothing or no-one could help her.

Sam moved out. Tara learned to spend her nights alone. She taught herself how to make simple foods, like pasta and steak. Her Dad hadn’t taken much when he’d left, so Tara worked her way through his film collection. She didn’t care much for the westerns, or the gangster flicks. She scrunched her nose up at the heist films and the rom-coms. But the horror movies? It was love at first sight.

She worked her way through the Halloween movies first. Then Nightmare on Elm Street. Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

Finally, came the Stab movies.

She’d grown up in Woodboro, she’d heard the stories about Ghostface.

Stupid name, she’d first thought. Stupider mask.

But the more she watched the more he grew on her. He began to fascinate her. His motives were always asinine, much like The Rage. The hairs on the back of her neck stuck up at every kill. She became obsessed. First it was the movies, then it was the books. She read every article, spent countless hours on youtube - interviews, theories, facts. She watched them all.

By the time she’d finished middle school, Tara could recite every stab movie by heart. Better than that - her focus on the Stab movies meant The Rage had finally lessened.

She didn’t flip out about trivial things anymore, like someone borrowing a pen, or eating her last stick of gum. Instead, she pictured herself in a Ghostface mask. The blade between her fingertips as she drove the knife deep into said pen-thieving, gum-stealer’s chest.

Then it had been enough. Just the thought of doing it. Back when she didn’t have anything worth stealing.

And then she met you.

It was like fate, kismet. Just like all the tales in all the stupid rom-coms she couldn’t stand to watch.

She’d been sitting in biology class, doodling in the line of her margin. When she’d looked up, you were there. Beautiful, ethereal. Her heart had almost stopped the moment you’d locked eyes.

She knew right then and there you were destined to be hers. The Rage purred. It coiled from her around you like an invisible string, tying your fates together.

The next day she’d asked you out. The next week she’d kissed you, soft and slow, under the gentle hum of your porchlight. And the week after that you were hers. Officially.

It was perfect. You were perfect.

Her special, perfect thing.

Instead of lonely nights on the couch, watching movies by herself, you were there.

She cooked for you, made you all the recipes she’d spent her early teens learning. Showed you all her favorite horror movies. Spent nights on nights making feverish love to each other. She was your first, and you were hers. Not two months in, naked and entwined, she told you she loved you for the first time.

She was completely and utterly enamored with you.

“Tell me about your first kiss.” You had whispered one night, laid across from her on the sofa.

Tara’s first kiss had been awful. With a boy from middle school who hadn’t bothered to take his gum out. You’d giggled at that.

And then she’d made a colossal mistake: she’d asked you about yours.

Aaron was his name, you’d recalled. He was cute. He’d made your stomach flip. Sometimes you’d see him in the halls. He had long hair now, and he didn’t really look too dissimilar to Tara. You’d told her so. Nudged your elbow in her stomach.

“Maybe I have a type.”

Tara had felt herself get light-headed. Her mouth prickled uncomfortably. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

Her heart hammered. White hot jealousy coiled through her veins. Her stomach dropped; It was back, worse than she’d ever felt it before. She could feel The Rage taking over.

Not at you, never at you.

Aaron. Some punk kid with long hair who had dared touch you before she even knew you.

Her hands itched, she’d needed to hurt something. Someone. Aaron perhaps.

She imagined him under her, screaming out as she drove her knife into his throat.

“You okay, baby?” You’d asked. Your hands on her back, rubbing softly, “I was just kidding.” You leaned in, pressed a kiss to her cheek, “You’re way cuter than Aaron.”

Tara had kissed you hard. Shelved The Rage.

The Rage had ruined everything good in her life, it wasn’t about to take you as well. She’d do everything in her power to protect you from it.

English class. Her knee was bouncing.

Withdrawal maybe, from you. It was the only class you didn’t share together. You’d been dating for months now, barely a moment without her. Everyday you were hers, The Rage got stronger.

It wasn’t just Aaron. You’d had a girlfriend before her, Sadie. You still shared a class together. The Rage wanted her gone, just like Aaron. Your best friend, Chase, watched you with moon eyes. You never noticed but Tara did. The Rage did. It coiled inside her, beating its fists against her chest, screaming to be let out.

She was pale today, dark circles underneath her eyes. She hadn’t slept a wink. She’d held you tight all night, gripping you as if Aaron or Sadie or Chase was about to break in and steal you from her.

Over her dead body.

In fact she was so exhausted, she’d thought she’d imagined it when she heard the boys two rows in front of her saying your name. She tilted her head, listened a little harder.

“YN. I have Math with her.” Sounded one of the boys. The other one groaned. “Lucky, dude.”

“Tell me about it. She’s so fucking hot.”

Tara leaned in. Gripped her pencil so hard it snapped. The blood rushed to her ears as she felt The Rage taking over.

“I might try to hit that this weekend. She’s always at Freeman’s parties.”

The other boy had scoffed. “Dude. She’s with Tara Carpenter. Good fucking luck.”

“Please.” Leered the first boy, “Chicks dating chicks is hot and all, but I bet she’s missing the D. All it would take is a couple of drinks and she’ll be all over me.”

He had leaned back in his chair with all the swagger of an eighteen year old virgin.

“Besides. Who knows. Carpenter’s pretty hot too. Maybe she’ll join in.”

Tara didn’t remember getting home.

She was shaking. Blood rushing to her ears. She’d got into the shower, fully clothed. Turned on the facet, straight to cold, hoping she could shock it out of her system.

One, two, three. The breathing exercises her Dad had taught her.

Five, five, five. Kill him, kill him, kill him.

It had never been this strong before. This wild. When she was a child she’d wanted to hurt, sure. She’d want to punch, or kick, or choke. In her fantasies she stabbed people - but it wasn’t real, it was just a daydream. This time, she’d wanted to kill him. A fantasy wasn’t enough.

One. Two. Three.

The cold water wasn’t working. She turned it to hot. Let the water scald her skin.

One. Two. Three.

She let out a long, dry sob. It felt like her insides were burning. Rage filled every part of her - from the painful throb of her chest to the fire-like blood flowing through her veins. She could feel her cheeks red, angry.

One. Two. Three.

“Baby?” Her head jerked up. It was you. You pried open the bathroom door.

“Tara?” You stared for a moment.

She looked a sight. Fully clothed, shoes and all, sat at the bottom of the shower dry heaving.

You were at her side in an instant.

“Baby.” You’d cooed as you pulled her to her feet, “What happened?”

The Rage pounded at her chest, like angry fists trying to claw through her ribcage. She could barely speak. You had turned off the facet, pulled her soaking body into yours.

“Come on, baby. Let's get you out of these wet clothes.”

You wrapped her in a towel, dropping to your knees to untie her shoes. She stood, soaking wet and shivering as you pulled jeans down her legs.

“You’re freezing.” You’d said. Wrapped her tight in your arms. Her body was shaking, but it wasn't because of the cold. If anything, she felt too hot. You had rubbed her arms, kissed her forehead. She’d buried her face in your chest, her hands gripping tight around your waist.

Mine. The Rage growled. You’re mine.

You’d fussed over her. Drying her hair with a towel, trying to coax her into bed.

When you’d leaned over her, pulling the sheets up to her neck, she had grabbed you by the wrist.

“YN.” She murmured, “YN. Baby.”

“It’s all right, sweetheart.” You had said, “I’m here. I’m just going to get you a hot water bottle and then I’ll be right back-”

Tara shook her head, tugging you down a little harder.

You let out a quiet gasp as she grabbed you by the hips, pulled you down to her.

“Shhh.” She’d murmured. Wild eyes. “I need to fuck you. Now. Please.”

You hadn’t put up much of a protest. She was feverish. Angry. Rough. Each thrust of her hips sent shockwaves through your entire body.

“Mine.” She had growled in your ear as you came hard around her fingers.

But not even fucking you could satiate The Rage. It thumped, still there, ever present. It was tormenting her. Flashes of you on your back, the boy from biology thrusting deep inside you. Another flash, you on your hands and knees, him pounding you into the mattress. It made her sick. It made her hands itch with anger.

It’s you or him. The Rage sing-songed at her. Stick your knife in him before he can stick his cock in her.

Your fingers on her cheek had snapped her out of it, only for a moment.

“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart.” You’d said. “Where did that come from?”

She’d looked down at you: lips swollen from her wild kisses. Angry red marks on your hips from where she’d grabbed you and held you down. She’d swallowed hard. She knew what she had to do.

“Don’t worry.” She’d said. Pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, “I had a problem. But I think I know how to fix it.”

She’d dropped you home later that night.

Then, she drove into town and bought herself a Ghostface mask.

She was spiraling.

She could feel it, thrumming, taking over. She was losing control.

The first murder was sweet relief. She hadn’t meant to kill two of them. Dan was his name, the awful boy who had plotted to get you drunk and steal you from her. She’d been halfway through tearing her dagger down his stomach when his older brother had walked in.

She’d had to kill him too. No witnesses. She did it quick, felt kind of bad about it afterwards.

The boost of serotonin at the look on Dan’s face when she’d driven her knife into his stomach more than made up for it.

For the first time in her life The Rage was satisfied.

But it wasn’t to last. It itched at her, the fact there were still people out there that had known the taste of your lips on their mouths. The Rage wanted them dead. Tara wanted them dead. Ghostface wanted them dead.

It was far too much to fight off her natural instincts. She was tired of fighting it. Exhausted. Now she’d known the feeling of her knife sinking deep into someone’s flesh, she didn’t think she could stop it even if she tried.

Aaron was next. She’d slit his throat while he begged for mercy.

Then Sadie. She’d stabbed her twelve times in the back. Once for every day you’d been hers.

Then Chase was all that was left.

And the worst had happened.

“Don’t be scared.” She’d murmured as you stared back at her, eyes wide and fearful. Lip trembling. Chase’s blood still dripping off her hands, “I would never hurt you.”

It was true. She’d never hurt you. Not even if you had run from her that night. Not even if you'd called the police. She’d turn her knife and drive it through her own heart before she’d ever lay a finger on you.

But you hadn’t run. You’d stayed, loved her despite the monster that lived inside her.

The Rage had taken everyone else, but not you.

Mine. It murmured everytime she was close to you. Sometimes she’d say it aloud. You’d nestle into her, hold her tight.

Yours.

Next part

#ghostface!tara #tara carpenter #scream #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem reader #ah #fanfiction #mine #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader

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featherandferns · 2 years ago

Text

pirates (fic)

jj maybank x fem!reader | shamelessly and obviously inspired by taylor swift's 'seven'

content warning: mentions of abuse (physical)

word count: 9k. roughly

blurb: if you ever needed to find yourself or jj maybank, one would recommend you head to pirate's cove, no matter the age or day.

The water was tepid. There was some lingering woodsy fragrance, probably from the cedar trees that towered high all around the waterside, alongside something undeniably fresh in the air. JJ waded in the murky water. The ground was warm with sunlight that flitted through the canopy of trees. As it illuminated the leaves, there was a strange greenish hue that overcame everything. The water plants and reeds only added to it, making the place feel peaceful and serene. In one hand he held a net, and another a bucket. JJ was searching for frogs. His father had told him it was season for them and JJ had taken that as his summer-break mission.

There was a ripple in the water and something that wasn’t short of a ‘splash’, and JJ spun around in time to see a frog leap from the water and onto a moss-covered rock. He grinned.

“Got ya,” he muttered to himself.

Slowly, carefully, he approached. Net at the ready, he continued to ease towards it. ‘Slowly now, JJ’, he told himself. ‘Slowly’.

A sudden scream ripped through the trees.

The frog leaped away for safety and JJ, in the fright of it all, stumbled backwards and tumbled into the water. It came up to his shoulders, his tiny body almost fully submerged, and he swore out like he had heard his father do. Somehow, it made him feel slightly better. Before he could get to his feet, the scream came again. It sounded high, but there was no telling if it was girl or boy. It was probably somebody playing around. He rolled his eyes, frog now gone, and got to his feet. Just as he went to get back to frog spotting, he heard it again. Only, this time:

“Help!”

His head spun around to where it came from. That didn’t sound like no joking. He waded out the water as quick as he could, feeling as if it were pulling at his legs to keep him from land. Managing onto dry ground, he looked around through the thick forestry for where it came from.

“Come on,” he mumbled to himself. His little legs were a little scratched up from the rocks and dirt he’d fallen on in the water. As the air got to the tiny cuts, making them sting.

The scream came again, this time louder and more panicked. JJ started off in the direction of it, ditching his bucket but holding onto his net. He raced towards the sound, perfecting his course with each one that came, until he stopped at a bank.

There stood a girl on a mud bank.

You couldn’t have been older than seven. You were surrounded by marsh water. Hair falling around your shoulders as if the sea had churned you up and spat you out. Your cheeks were wet and eyes wide, focused on something below in the water.

JJ squinted as he tried to focus. Driftwood?

The wood shifted closer to the bank and you opened your mouth in a screech.

“Gator,” JJ said.

Your head darted up at the sound. You locked eyes with JJ. More tears came.

“Help me!” you cried. “Please!”

JJ looked around. Where was his dad? Wasn’t there somebody else here? Could nobody else hear you hollering like someone being murdered out in daylight?

“It’s getting closer!” you wailed. JJ watched the gator slowly slink towards you, as if taunting.

“Okay, okay,” he said, nodding. “Lemme think, alright? You’re gonna be fine.”

“Hurry,” you continued to sob.

JJ’s young mind was racing. He thought back to his mother’s lessons when they were sat out in the sun the other week. Snakes don’t like dogs and gators don’t like noise? Was that it? He looked down at the net in his hand. It was a long stick, at least half his height. If he were to disturb the water and yell, maybe it’d change course? That’d give you enough time, perhaps?

“Alright,” he said, voice trembling. He looked to you again and, as if you could feel his gaze, you looked up from the gator. Clearing his throat, he tried to make his tone more demanding like his pops. “Alright, here’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna try and distract him over here, and you’re gonna make a run for this here bank.”

“What?” you gaped. “I…I can’t do that!”

“You gotta! Run as fast as you can, alright! Keep running that way, back to the houses,” JJ instructed, pointing to his right. Your lip trembled. “You can do it, alright? I’m gonna be right behind ya.”

You stared at him. Looking back down at the gator, you seemed to consider his plan. Then, meeting his eyes again, you pursed your lips, sniffled, and nodded.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” JJ said, nodding himself. He swallowed his fear, squared his shoulders, and moved to the left of the bank. Grabbing another large branch, struggling only slightly with the weight, he took a deep breath. Then, splashing the water as hard as he could, he began to yell. “Come here gator! Come on!”

The moment the gator turned; you took off running. Your small body met the water and you started to swim as fast you could. JJ hit the water harder now, yelling louder.

“Come on gator boy! Come on!”

The frantic splashes of your front stroke seemed to catch the gator’s attention more so. You weren't looking behind you, eyes focused on the land.

“Come on! Come for me!” JJ practically pleaded.

The gator stayed still a moment. Then, slowly, began to sulk towards JJ.

His victory and smile were only brief, as his prepubescent brain caught onto the fact that a gator was making way to him.

Glancing to you, he saw you crawling onto the land, coughing and panting. You began to race towards the houses, just as JJ has instructed. Following suite, he ditched his net and branch and took off after you.

“Keep going!” he hollered. “Keep going!”

The pair of you ran and ran and ran. You ran until you were out of the marsh, out the of the clearing of the trees, and out onto the main street of the neighbourhood you were in. You finally stumbled to a slow, and eventually a stop. JJ copied. The two of you hunched over, panting heavily, hands on knees.

“Oh my God,” you whispered to yourself.

JJ felt as if he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. It certainly didn’t help when you flung yourself at him, arms wrapping around his neck.

“Thank you!” you cried.

It took a moment for him to react. Then, he wrapped his scrawny arms around your frame.

“Hey, hey,” he coaxed, rubbing your back like his mom did with him when he was poorly. “You’re alright now.”

You nodded against him but continued to cry, nonetheless.

“I thought I was dinner for a second,” you laughed sadly. JJ chuckled too.

“You scared off my frogs,” he told you. You laughed harder, untangling yourself from him.

“Sorry,” you said, wiping your cheeks.

“What were you doing on that bank, anyway?” JJ asked.

You looked down at her feet nervously, almost embarrassed.

“There was this real pretty butterfly on there and…I just wanted a closer look.”

“Don’t nobody tell you that’s gator land?” JJ said. You looked back up to him and shook your head.

“No! I just…I wasn’t thinking!” you replied, becoming tearful again.

JJ reeled himself in.

“It’s alright,” he said. “It gets confusing out there.”

You smiled tentatively and nodded. Sniffling once more, you stuck out a hand and introduced yourself.

JJ took it and gave it a shake like he’d seen adults do at school and his daddy’s work. “JJ.”

“Nice to meet you, JJ.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

You both stood a moment and smiled at one another. “I’m sorry about your net.”

“It’s alright. Had it for ages.”

“I can get you a new one,” you told him. Then, as if a light bulb had gone off, you said, “I have a spare one I think!”

JJ hesitated. His mom had told him not to be greedy of people. ‘We don’t take charity, JJ.’

“You don’t have to,” he hesitated.

You shook your head firmly and took one of his hands in yours. You began to drag him as you set off walking down the road.

“Yes, I do. You saved my life, after all.”

JJ couldn’t really argue with that logic. Hand in hand, the two of you walked to your house. As you went, you asked about the frogs. JJ told you as much as he could remember reading. There was a picture book in school about them with a few easy-to-read facts put here and there. It was far more interesting than the maths the teacher had been going on about, so he’d read it under his desk. You nodded along and listened fervently. At some part on the walk, you'd started playing frogs. Ribbiting and hopping around, even playing leapfrog. Eventually, you came to your house.

JJ paused as you started walking up to it. When you noticed he was no longer by your side, you turned around.

“What?” you asked.

“It’s just…I live just down the road there,” JJ said, pointing. “Near the water.”

Your smile came back, wide and pure. “No way!”

He smiled back. “Yeah!”

You raced over and grabbed his hand, pulling him around the back, to the shed.

“We’re gonna be best friends!” you cheered, making JJ laugh.

He didn’t hate the sound of that. Making friends at school hadn’t been all that successful. There was only one boy who he truly got on well with, and he was called John B. JJ wasn’t sure why his name was John B, but then again he wasn’t completely sure why everyone called him JJ. He liked your name. It was different, a bit like you.

You came to the shed and pulled it open. Going through the tools and such, you dug about until you found a spare net buried amongst spider webs near the back.

“I knew it!” you triumphed, holding it up. Walking over to JJ who stood out in the late afternoon sun in her garden, you stopped before him. “Kneel.”

JJ did as demanded.

Tapping him on each shoulder, you announced with a laugh, “I now pronounce you sir knight JJ…Uh, what’s your last name?”

“Maybank.”

“Sir knight JJ Maybank!” you said, loud and proud.

JJ giggled as he got to his feet, giving a bow. He then began to wave like he’d seen the English queen do on TV once. You began to applaud and cheer, pretending to bow to him like he was Jesus walking into town on palm Sunday.

Someone called your name. "Is that you?” a voice called from the house.

The pair of you turned to see a woman stood on the patio, using her hand to keep the sun from her eyes.

“Yeah, ma!”

“Come on in! Dinner’s nearly ready!” She called.

You nodded and looked to JJ. You handed him the net.

“What’re you doing tomorrow?”

“Nothing, I don’t think,” JJ replied.

“Want to play pirates?”

“Sure,” he said, not fully sure what pirates involved but very interested, nonetheless. Maybe he could see if John B was free too. The three of you might make good ruffians.

“Okay,” you grinned. You flung your arms around his neck again before racing towards your house. As you went, you called out your farewell to him.

“Smell you later, Maybank.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*

The creek had quickly become the usual haunt of JJ and yourself. It was a little bit from the waters near his house, more secluded by forestry, though not as much as the marsh. You still got twitchy about going in there after the alligator incident. JJ couldn’t really blame you. The thing would’ve eaten you in one bite.

You'd found a small nook of fresh water, deep enough to swim. There was a rope swing tethered to a branch which made your secret spot feel only slightly spoiled, under the notion that someone else had gotten there first. Never the matter, every time you went, it was empty. Your whoops and hollers, and the narrative of whatever make-believe game you had come up to play, filled the air. It probably carried through to JJ’s house, which was nearest the spot that only JJ and you knew.

“Ahoy!” you growled, jumping out from behind a bush. “Gimme your gold and nobody gets hurt.”

“If I’m getting hurt then there’s gonna be two funerals!” JJ returned loudly as he unsheathed his sword.

You advanced forward with yours, already posed for fight. JJ slashed in return and the two of you heard the clink of metal hitting metal. You swung and sparred, dancing around the bank of the water. Bare feet treaded over pine needles and rotting, fallen leaves, damp from the water from when the rain pushed the level to rise yesterday.

Gasping, you ducked to avoid a deadly swing of JJ’s sword to your head.

“You’re gonna regret that, matey!” you threatened, and with that, drove him into the water. Before you could break free, JJ was pulling you in with him, and the two of you became submerged.

The water was cold. The continuous flow of it meant there was no time for the sun to heat it, least of all through the leaves above them. There was only one break in the trees where you could see the blue sky fully. You broke to the surface first, then JJ. The two of you were grinning as they clambered to your feet. The water came up to your waists, though only to your parent’s middle thighs most probably. Not that your parents knew their spot. This was sacred ground. When you'd found it, you had demanded that JJ keep it a secret.

“Cross your heart, won’t tell no other,” you'd said. JJ did as you asked and you grinned that same carefree grin as you copied. JJ was still warming up to ask youif John B could join. As the summer had gone on, he’d become closer and closer to Big John’s successor.

“You’ll never find me gold!” JJ announced, holding his sword above his head with one arm. “It dies with me!”

“As will I!” you countered loudly.

Another battle, bloodier than ever, and JJ ended up on his back on the wet bank, dripping from head to toe. His t-shirt was drenched, sticking to his sun-kissed skin, and you stood over him in your sopping blue summer dress. Your skin sparkled with the sheen of the water under the sunlight. It was as if the heavens were blessing you.

Your sword’s tip met his chin, driving his head backwards and up.

“Any last words, Maybank? Your crew is nowhere in sight,” you snarled.

JJ grinned. “Kiss my ass.”

You couldn’t help but gasp out a laugh. Taking advantage, JJ batted the sword off of him and drove his into your chest in one fluid motion. You stumbled backwards with another gasp, this time more dramatic. Holding the handle of the sword, you gently pulled it from her chest.

“You’ll rue this day,” you warned weakly.

Then, you tumbled backwards into the water to meet your untimely demise.

A hand searched for your arm and wrapped around your bicep, pulling you up to sit.

“What does ‘rue’ mean?” JJ asked you.

You sat in the water.

“I don’t know,” youreplied. “I just heard them say it in a movie once.”

“Hm,” JJ thought.

He sat himself beside you. You were no longer pirates battling over treasure. Instead, you were best friends for the summer. At that age, of seven-turning-eight, friendships come fast and easy. All what matters is if you’re any good at gallivanting and sword fighting, or running secret missions against the Russians and English, or racing from one house to another. Not what clothes you wear or how much money you have, or if you’re a kook or a pogue.

“I should probably go home soon,” JJ said. The sun was getting crisper, more orange, warning of dusk.

“You could stay for dinner at our house if you like,” you offered.

JJ thought it over. “I’d have to ask my parents.”

“Okay. I can come with you, if you like.”

“That’s alright,” JJ said. He got to his feet and you got to yours. “Come on.”

The two of you made their way out of the hiding spot and back into real life. A slight shiver had begun to run up your back now that you weren’t racing around in battle. It was a chillier night. You came to JJ’s house first. He hesitated as he looked up at the door. There was a faint ruckus coming from inside. You stood beside him and stared up. He’d been in your house plenty of times, but you’d never been in his. Come to think, you'd never met his parents.

“You gonna ask?” you wondered.

JJ didn’t look at you as he nodded. His eyes remained focused on the door.

“Yeah. Just…wait here a moment,” he said quietly.

JJ approached the house and made his way up the porch steps slowly, then opened the shutter. To the back door he went. He took a breath before pushing it open and walked into his home.

You stood in the garden and waited.

The ruckus was getting louder and it began to sound like voices, shouting. A woman and a man. There was the sound of something being shoved, maybe a table, and then a loud smash of a plate. You gasped and felt your heart begin to pick up. This wasn’t the same sort of heartbeat as when you were battling JJ on the water banks. This was true fear. The type you'd felt when you were face to face with the gator. It only seemed to speed up the louder the hollering got.

“Leave her alone!” you heard JJ’s young voice yell.

A crisp, clean noise echoed in your ears.

Skin hitting skin.

JJ’s unmistakeable screech.

You couldn’t stop yourself from taking flight. You raced to your house, up the street.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

There was the sound of something tapping. It wasn’t a regular tapping, like a leaky drain dripping outside. It came and went for ages, then again, maybe louder or quieter. You groaned and tucked your head under her duvet, hoping it would pass. It wouldn’t. You tossed your sheet off and flicked on your lamp. Staring to the window, you waited for it to come again. For a long while, it didn’t. Then: clink.

“Are you joking me?” you mumbled sleepily, getting up. You trudged to the window and pulled up your blind. It was dark outside. The sound of crickets and a distant owl hooting was the only sound you were met with when you pushed the window up and open. Looking around, there was nothing save for your back garden.

“Psst!”

You frowned and looked down. There stood JJ. He was in his pyjamas, barefoot.

“JJ?”

He replied with your name as if checking, nervous. You heard him sniffle.

“What are you doing? It’s really late,” you yawned, rubbing your eyes to help them adjust.

JJ rubbed his arm.

“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay?” you asked, trying to keep your voice to a whisper. JJ looked up at you again and now, with your eyes adjusted, you could make out tear streaks.

“Can I sleep over, do you think?”

Glancing briefly to your bedroom door, you wondered what your parents might say. They liked JJ for the most part. He was polite when he came around. They knew he made a good friend for their daughter. Besides, it was the summer break. Why couldn’t you have a sleepover? You looked back down to him and nodded.

“Can you climb up?”

You lived in a lodge, the same as most of the people on the cut. It was elevated from the ground by a meter or more. JJ nervously eyed up the wall before shaking his head.

“Do you have a rope or something?”

You turned around and searched your room. You could tie together your bedsheets and blankets, like they did in the movies. No, that wouldn’t work.

“Ah,” you said.

You spotted a skipping rope hung up on the back of your bedroom door. Grabbing it, you came back to the window and lowered it down. JJ wasn’t particularly large. You were the same height and nearly the same weight. His shoulders were a little broader and his legs a little longer, but save for that, you were equals. You believed you might be able to tug him up.

“Grab on.”

JJ began to climb up the wall, using your rope to help. You struggled as you held it steady, managing his weight only just. He came to the windowsill and got a grip, clambering in. You helped him step down into your room. In the full light of your bedroom, you could make out his running tears. On his left cheek was a bright pink mark, almost the perfect shape of a hand.

“Oh JJ,” you mumbled.

That only seemed to make him cry more. You quickly wrapped her arms around him in a hug. It made you feel better to be hugged whenever you scraped your knee or fell off your bike. JJ hugged you back, crying into your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he wailed, voice small and fragile like a fixed China plate.

“You don’t gotta be sorry,” you told him quietly.

When JJ had cried most of his tears, you pulled away and closed your window. JJ made his way to your bed, burying himself under the pink and orange duvet. He mumbled something about his head hurting. You closed the blinds, climbed in too, turning off your lamp. You tucked your white childhood bear, named August bear, under one arm.

You lay in silence for a moment. This was different to the other sleepover you'd been to. You'd only been to one, for a girl classmate’s birthday. The other girls and you had spent all night whispering, giggling about anything and everything. The birthday girl’s mom had shushed you several times. Here, all there could be to hear was JJ’s shaking breaths and occasionally sniffs.

“JJ?” you whispered. It was dark now and you couldn’t make out his face.

“Yeah?” he whispered back.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah.”

“I think…I think your house is haunted,” you told him quietly.

JJ sniffed. “Why’s that?”

“Well, your dad’s always mad,” you explained in a hush. “I think something in there takes control of him and…the ghosts are messing with you all.”

JJ’s face was slowly coming into view. His pale skin and blue eyes. Thin lips, still trembling, and nose redden from crying. “You think so?”

“Mhm,” you said.

You found his hand under the blanket and clasped it tightly.

“I think you should come live with me and…and we can be pirates, and sleep at sea, out in the secret spot, and never have to answer to anyone ever again. We won’t have to go to school when summer ends. And you won’t have to hide anymore.”

“That sounds nice,” JJ yawned.

Contagiously, you yawned too. “Yeah. It does.”

Closing your eyes, you felt herself beginning to drift off once more. Your hand remained enclosed around JJ’s. A strong grip, tight like a bowline knot. Then, JJ whispered your name.

“Mhm?”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime, smelly,” you hummed.

~*~*~*~*~*

A tapping at the door came. Three rhythmic knocks. Your face lit up and you got up from the breakfast table to answer it.

“Coming!” you called. You'd grown a little over the last school year and didn’t need to go on your tiptoes no more to open the door. On the other side stood JJ, smiling.

"Morning smelly!"

“Morning,” he said. He walked into the now familiar house. Two years of friendship meant he had become a local in your household. “Did I miss breakfast?”

“Nope,” you said, walking to the table with him.

“Morning JJ,” your mom said. She plated him up two pancakes and handed him the syrup as he took the spare seat around the table.

“Morning,” JJ said politely. He was always polite to your parents.

Your dad sat to the left, saying a hi behind the paper. He came alive in the afternoons. Your mom rubbed her swollen belly. JJ had never seen a pregnant woman before. At first, he was worried an alien was growing inside of her. When he told you that, you nearly died with laughter. It wasn’t the greatest feeling to be on the receiving end.

“What’re you kids plans for the day, then?” your mom asked as she took her seat.

“We might go fishing,” JJ said, lathering his pancakes. “There’s some good spots near the marsh.”

“Not the marsh,” you said. Still afraid of the gators, even after two years.

JJ rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, you gotta be careful of them gators,” he told you. He grinned as he lent over to steal a slice of bacon off your place. “They might bite!”

“Hey!” you complained, shoving him in the shoulder.

“Easy you two,” your mom chuckled. “What about John B? He coming with?”

“Maybe. We could go by his and ask,” JJ said to you. You nodded.

Your twosome became a threesome towards the end of the first summer. After playing pirates for the majority of your break, they had decided to invite John B to join. Your friendship with JJ was already set in stone (with him sleeping over almost every other night, though neither of you spoke about why), but considering you went to a different school to them both (a Catholic joint for girls only), your friendship with John B had mostly blossomed at the weekends or in the evenings after school like moonflower. Winter was filled playing games mostly inside, and spring in the grass largely. But now summer was back, school done with, and at the age of nine, there was little else more important than fishing, swimming and playing pretend in the wake.

The two of you polished off your breakfast and you finished getting dressed. Then, out you headed on your pushbikes. You stopped by John B’s, said hi to his dad, JJ stealing another slice of toast in the process, and then your trio went off to the jetty with the promise of being safe. John B had learnt how to drive his dad’s boat, so long as you stayed within a certain area, and JJ was becoming a natural fisher like his dad. You made yourself useful in anyway that you could. It seemed your blessing was swimming. You were strong in the water, could hold your breath the longest. You had taught JJ how to backflip off the jetty.

“I caught one!” JJ hollered. He tugged on the rod, struggling a moment. Reeling in a fish, he whooped loudly. It wasn’t exactly large but compared to the three nine-year-olds, anything was a marlin.

You did a little victory dance.

“Think we could have it for dinner?” John B wondered. His brown hair blew around in the summer breeze.

You pinched the still wiggling fish off the rod and dangled it in John B’s face. He cringed and scrambled away.

“Gross!”

You laughed like a mad man and then tossed it back in the water.

JJ whined. your name in complaint.

“What!? That thing wasn’t good enough to eat,” you said.

“I could’ve used it for bait,” JJ said.

“Oh,” you went meek. “Sorry.”

JJ kept his forlorn expression a moment longer as he got to his feet.

“You’re gonna be!”

With that, he pushed you in the water. You gave out a small squeal as you tumbled in. Before you hit the surface, you heard JJ’s mad laughter. An idea popped into your head. You broke to the surface, gasping for air and thrashing like you'd seen a guy do on TV.

“Help!” you gargled.

JJ panicked, leaning over and calling your name.

You kept your hands above you, splashing around. JJ tried to grab onto you. The moment you felt his hand in yours, a wicked grin came to your face, and you tugged him in too. When he came to the surface, you were cackling away, treading water comfortably as if going on a brisk jog.

“Hilarious,” he muttered, splashing at you. You splashed him back.

John B muttered something snidey about third-wheeling, and JJ and yourself shared a look. One nod then another, and the two pirates were hijacking the ship and pulling the third of their gang into the water too.

After swimming around for what felt like hours, the three of you clambered back into the small rowboat. Cheeks aching from laughter and chests heaving, you collapsed onto your backs. You grinned up at the sky. You wanted forever to feel this way. Lungs full, heart light, mind empty.

And hey - why couldn’t you?

~*~*~*~*~*

On his way back from school, JJ heard your laughter from your garden. He could recognise that sound anywhere. Walking over to your house, through to the back yard, he saw you sat on the porch steps. Your dad was sat with you, blowing bubbles in front of you both. The moment JJ came into sight, you were sitting up straighter, waving.

“I like your cap, smelly,” you said as he approached, nodding to his head.

JJ grinned and took it off. Placing it on your head, pushing down on the lip so it fell over your face, he said, “got it from my dad.”

“Nice,” you giggled, correcting it.

JJ smiled down at you. He was taller than you now, by a couple of inches.

It felt as though he had recently realised you were a girl. It sounded stupid, because JJ knew that you'd always been a girl, but when you were playing out it never seemed to matter. You were a good pirate nemesis and a decent fisher, and always up for a laugh. But in the latest school year, the girls had started whispering about the boys, nervously asking them to hold hands around the playground, playing kiss tag during lunch break. JJ and John B never got involved. They’d sit back and watch from a branch in a tree, talking about surfing. JJ was itching to try it out. His dad always raved about the waves.

You had nice hair though. Sun-stained skin and strawberry kissed lips. Your colourful eyes were squinting against the sun.

JJ stole back his cap and cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to distract his wandering thoughts.

“Wanna go get John B and head to the cove?” he wondered.

You turned and asked your dad. The answer was yes, so long as you were back before dark. With that, the two of you set off to John B’s place. JJ bumped your shoulder as you walked. You talked about school and your peers. Told stories about the fights that had broken out on the school yard. You complained about your school's mandatory summer dress's and the lack of good jello flavours in the canteen. JJ complained about only catching small fish and nothing big enough to fry.

When you went to retrieve John B, he complained that he was tired, and didn’t feel up to coming out. Walking to the pirates cove, JJ and you complained about John B not coming out to play when you hadn’t seen him in five days.

“He’s so lame,” you muttered, kicking a stone.

“What an asshole.”

“I don’t think he’s an asshole,” you said to JJ. “Sides, you shouldn’t say things like that.”

JJ shrugged. “My dad says it all the time.”

You eyed his side profile. “How are things, with your dad?”

JJ shoved his hands in his short pockets and shrugged again, watching his feet as you kept walking. “Fine.”

“He do anything lately? To you, I mean?”

He sniffed and looked the opposite way to you, at the houses. “What’s it matter?”

“Well…” You weren’t sure how to answer that. You sighed and conceded. “I guess it doesn’t.”

The rest of the walk to pirate cove was quiet. JJ felt badly and he wanted to apologise, though there wasn’t anything specific to apologise for. There was just a feeling itching at him that he’d upset you. As you came to the clearing which led to the cove, he stopped. You followed suit, watching him.

“Race?” he offered, giving you a small smile.

You grinned.

“Bring it.”

A countdown, feet poised and at the ready, and you were off. JJ stumbled over a tree root as he ran, making you laugh. You ran and ran until you got to the cove. There, panting, you had to accept defeat. JJ’s hand slapped the tree in victory.

“First!” he cheered.

You laughed.

“Best two out of three?” you wondered.

JJ eyed up where you stood, on the edge of the jump where the rope swing had been made. There was a small drop into the deeper part of the water. He grinned.

“Nah.”

Shoving you on the collarbones, you let out a screech as fell into the water. When you came to the surface, you were yelling all sorts of things at him. JJ knew you weren't really angry.

“Asshole!” you hollered.

JJ barked out a laugh.

“You said it!”

“Screw you!” you returned, making him laugh harder.

You swam to shore and unsheathed your sword. It was a little rusted from want of use, with school disrupting your battle. The older the two of you got, the more unnatural it was starting to feel to wield it. You raised it in threat of war. JJ raised a brow. Doing the same, he pulled out his own sword. Recently sharpened.

“You’re gonna regret that, Captain Maybank,” you said in a croaky voice.

“Argh,” JJ countered, advancing to you with his sword extended. “We’ll just have to see.”

The battle was bloody and brief. Though out of practise, you triumphed, with JJ dead on the dirt bank once more. Winning the fight, the map died with him, and thus the treasure. Upon realising this, you cried out a long, dramatic ‘noooo!’, dropping to your knees before falling flat on the dirt beside your defeated foe.

As you caught your breath, your smiles slowly fading, you watched the sky above. You'd fallen on the perfect spot where you could see it through the trees. Sun now lower, the days shorter thanks to fall, you sighed and folded your arms behind your head. JJ did the same.

“Hey. Can I ask you something?” JJ wondered.

“Yeah, course.”

“Have you had your first kiss yet?”

You kept watching the sky. A bird flew by, merely a dark spec.

“No,” you said. “I mean, I go to an all-girls school, remember? Not many guys to be kissing.”

“You could kiss a girl.”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Not sure if I wanna. Kiss a girl, that is.”

JJ nodded against the floor. He sighed and watched the leaves rustle in the breeze. A few fell.

“Have you had your first kiss?”

“No,” JJ admitted. Somewhat bashful and somewhat proud, he told you, “this girl Becky wanted to kiss me.”

“She did?”

“Mhm. But I didn’t feel like it.”

That was a lie. Ten year-old JJ was nervous as hell. Scared, even. He’d laughed it off with John B, was perhaps a little mean to Becky in the process, but she didn’t ask again. That was on Tuesday.

“What do you think it’s like?” you wondered. “I mean, they do it all the time in the movies.”

“Not sure,” JJ frowned. “Maybe wet?”

“Ew,” you laughed, snorting. You sat up and dusted the pine needles and dirt off your wet arms. They were already drying off. You looked down at him. His grey t-shirt was stained with dirt and dust. The red cap on his head sat funny, having been shifted since he laid down.

“We could always kiss,” you said.

JJ’s eyes darted to you.

“We could?”

“Why not?” you shrugged. You fiddled your fingers. “You and John B are the only boys I know.”

“Then why don’t you kiss John B?” JJ asked you, sitting up too.

You shrugged, looking to the water. “Just…don’t wanna.”

JJ considered your offer. He took you in as you watched the creek. Slightly imperfect features, sun-kissed cheeks, faintly rosy from running and playing. He’d rather kiss you than anybody else.

“Okay,” he said. You turned your head to face him.

“Okay.”

The two of you nervously giggled, then shifted around awkwardly. Somehow, you both ended up on your knees, facing one another. You had your hands clenched in little fists on your thighs. JJ had his buried in his short pockets. You stared at one another for a long minute, then slowly, nervously, leaned towards each other. You closed your eyes and JJ supposed he should do the same. That’s what they did in the films, after all. A gap, a falter, and then your lips clumsily met. It wasn’t a quick peck like JJ saw the other kids doing at school during kiss-tag. It also wasn’t long or passionate, like in the films. It just sort of…was. You pulled away first.

JJ opened his eyes just before you opened yours. His face was bright pink. You snorted before laughing altogether. JJ couldn’t help but copy. The two of you fell into hysterics.

“That was it?” you howled.

“What the hell is all the fuss about?” JJ agreed with a guffaw.

Your laughter echoed off the trees and rocks, and encased you in a joyous, jovial bubble.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

There were no more pirates, at pirates’ cove. Now, instead, you, JJ and John B would sit around on the dirt bank and listen to music. You passed stories back and forth about school, with the JJ’s become more and more filthy, making you and John B groan through your laughs. You often wished you went to the same school as JJ and John B. Jealousy tickled at your throat whenever you thought of the two of them hanging out without you throughout the day. You knew JJ didn’t love school. As you neared the age of thirteen, he joked about skipping class more often. You also had this weird feeling that he still preferred it to being at home. Just two nights ago he had slept at your house again. He had red markings around his neck, as if his dad had tried to choke him. As always, you didn’t ask and he didn’t explain. You just held his hand and let him sleep. Snuck him breakfast in the morning and helped him climb out your window. He didn’t need the rope as much anymore, having had a growth spurt over the summer. It remained your shared secret. It was the only one you had from John B now. Neither of you had said about keeping it on the downlow– you just mutually decide it was best to.

JJ’s aforementioned growth spurt hadn’t gone unnoticed by you. As the three of you passed stories about the boat race that happened a couple of days ago, in the first week of summer break, you found your eyes drifting to JJ. To the way his arms moved as he talked, the beginnings of muscles building since he started getting more obsessive with gym. Around his neck is a shark tooth necklace that you’d given him as a feel-better gift, a couple days after his mom left, a year ago now. It sits against his toned, sun-kissed chest. The black button-up shirt he was wearing hung lose on his frame.

“Hey! You wanna stop ogling JJ and answer the question?” John B asked, tossing a grape at you to get your attention.

You rolled your eyes at him and flipped him the bird. “In your dreams am I ogling JJ, John B.”

“Think they’re more like his dreams but whatever,” John B muttered. To that, JJ flipped him off too.

“What was your question, then?” you asked.

“Wanna go hang out at the docks? See if there’s some odd jobs that need doing? We might be able to earn a couple of bucks or something,” John B said.

You shrugged. That actually didn’t sound half bad. So, finishing your soda, you nodded and got to your feet. “Let’s do it.”

“I’m telling you,” JJ began as he stood up, too. “This guy Heyward gave me a twenty just for helping wash down his boat the other day.”

“You’re full of shit,” you told him, rolling your eyes.

“I swear to God! A whole twenty!” JJ argued back loudly. His voice cracked in the process, making you and John B share a snigger. “Fuck off.”

“Oh, someone’s got their panties in a twist,” you whistled with a grin.

“You think I wear panties?” JJ asked you, raising a brow. The three of you had started walking by then, out of the marsh.

“I know it,” you quipped back.

JJ grinned boyishly and sprinted ahead, back facing you, before promptly mooning you and John B. You both groaned, shaking your heads at him as he broke into hysterics.

“You’re so gross, JJ,” you muttered, pretending to gag.

“Lucy don’t think so,” he cockily replied, falling back into step with the two of you.

“Lucy? That the flavour of the week, huh?” you teased.

JJ rolled his eyes, smirking. “She’s cute. She’s got this wonderful, enormous—”

He gestured graphically to his chest.

“-Personality.”

“You need help, JJ,” John B said in response, making you laugh.

It seemed the moment JJ had become an official teenager, he started thinking more with his dick than his head. Girls weren’t blind to him. He was a good-looking kid; funny and outgoing and rebellious. One of the girls in your friendship group at school had a crush on him, too. Had started asking you all about him: his favourite food and favourite music. Shamelessly, she wore a band tee-shirt of The Kooks (which hung so big on her, you suspected it was from her dad’s wardrobe) the next day when the two of you went to the boneyard to hang out. The older kids didn’t much like you guys there, but when there was enough of you, they seemed to tolerate it. You had stuffed down the joy you had gotten when seeing how JJ barely even glanced at her.

The docks were rather quiet that day. Miss Amy nodded hello to the three of you as you walked down the jetty. JJ made a crude joke about her to John B, earning a shove in the shoulder as the former boy laughed. You petted one of the fishermen’s dogs as you passed another boat. Then, you were walking up near Heyward’s. There was a boy sat outside, reading a book.

“Yo. Heyward in?” JJ asked him.

The boy looked up. Dark skin and dark hair, eyes wide as if surprised someone was talking to him. “He had to head out for a bit.”

“Damnit,” JJ sighed, looking to you and John B.

“Why? What’d you need?” the guy asked.

“We’re just looking to see if we can make a couple bucks,” JJ told him.

John B clarifies what he meant by adding, “we helped him out with some groceries the other day.”

“Oh,” the guy nodded. “You guys from around here, too?”

“Sorta,” you replied. “We go to Kildare High.”

“Me too,” he smiled. You smiled back. He seemed like a nice guy. A little awkward and tense, but friendly, nonetheless. “I’m Pope.”

You introduced yourself, shaking his outstretched hand. John B did the same and JJ nodded at him, dropping his name last.

“There’s no groceries to run but the boat needs a clean,” Pope told you all, rising to his feet. “I was just gonna finish this chapter before doing it.”

“We’re down to help if you like,” John B said.

“How much for, like?”

“JJ!” You scolded.

He held his hands up. “What? Just asking! Not gonna do slave labour!”

“Ignore him,” you said to Pope. You looked to the jetty. “Which one’s yours?”

“This one,” Pope said, pointing. It’s painted white; a little well-loved but still in good nick. He put his book down after dog-earing the page. You couldn’t help but take a scan of the cover. The World Of Autopsies.

Following his lead, you grabbed at buckets and sponges. Pope unravelled the hose pipe and pulled it with him as you headed towards the boat. JJ messed with his cap, chatting to John B about fishing, and you fell in foot with Pope.

“What’s that book you’re reading?”

“It’s about autopsies,” Pope replied, sounding somewhat embarrassed as he looked at his feet.

“What? They didn’t have any copies of Jekyll and Hyde left?” you joked.

He smiled at that. “I wanna be a coroner, when I graduate high school.”

“Damn, you’re thinking about after high school? I don’t even think past after this year,” you chuckled.

“I don’t even think past after today!” JJ added loudly.

“You don’t have any reason to!” you called back snidely. He stuck his tongue out at you.

The three of you climbed aboard and got to cleaning. The conversation came naturally; cracking jokes and telling stories, getting to know Pope. Already, he was starting to feel like he was slotting quite comfortably into your strange little gang of pirates. JJ took the piss out of him rather a lot, but you knew that he liked him; could tell by the way he kept asking him questions and offering him help.

As you hosed down the deck, JJ scrubbed away at a stain on the flagpole. A wasp flew at you. Made you screech and dodge out of the way, sending the water stream messy. It hit JJ and drenched him in a second. He shouted out your name in a curse.

“Sorry!”

JJ rolled his eyes, finding his smile, and grabbed at the bucket of soapy water. You already knew what he was thinking. Laughing, you went to start running, but he was so fast (legs now so much longer than yours) and caught up easily, tipping the water on you. Screaming from the cold, you directed the hose pipe on him, aiming for his face. The two of you laughed, starting to wrestle as he battled for the hose, and you feel like pirates again, just as you were when you were seven.

Finally, easing up, the two of you broke apart. Your chest ached from laughing. JJ wiped his face and took off his soaked cap to brush back his hair. Then, his eyes fell on you.

Laughing, pointing at you, he said, “you’re looking way to hot right now.”

You looked down to see that the t-shirt you were wearing was now see-through from the wet, sticking to your bralette. Rolling your eyes mirthfully, trying to fight off the heat that was rushing to your cheeks, you messed with your top so it was no longer pasted to your skin.

“If you two are done flirting, I’ve got some drinks for you kids for your hard work,” a deep voice called.

You and JJ spun around to come face to face with Heyward. He was holding up a tray of plastic cups. The warmth in your face only got worse. JJ mumbled something along the lines of ‘we’re not flirting’ under his breath as the two of you dumb your stuff. Stepping off the boat, hose pipe now switched off, you, JJ, John B and Pope all enjoyed a drink, an unspoken, newly formed foursome.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

At sixteen came the year of experimenting. Alcohol and weed and cigarettes. A few classmates were now in relationships. First kisses were a thing of the past and instead gossip consisted of sex. Who did what? How far did they go? Conversations like that were made for JJ. Sat around at John B’s house, you sat next to the latest member of the group (Kiara), he’d divulge in dirty stories of debauchery which none of you asked for, but all would listen to, semi-curious. Especially the boys. John B was already leaning towards being a hopeless romantic. He’d revealed to you, one night, his crush on a certain Kook girl. You tried your best not to laugh him out of your room. There’s was no chance in hell anything like that could ever work out. Pope was less awkward with you guys now, but still useless with girls. Flirting was like a foreign tongue to him. Kiara didn’t seem all that interested in dating. You and she had never talked about crushes or guys.

“I swear man, this girl was going down on me like she was thirsty,” JJ grinned, smug and sure of himself.

You gagged into your drink, making Kie laugh.

“You’re so full of shit,” Pope told him.

“Dude, I’m telling you. Getting your dick sucked is like the best feeling in the world,” JJ gloated.

“Can we please talk about something else?” Kiara asked, rolling her eyes.

John B seemed happy to indulge. “So, my dad’s got a new trial he thinks with this gold—”

“Not about the gold!” the four of you chorused at him. John B shrunk back into his seat around the fire, taking a swig of his beer, wincing at the taste. None of you really liked it all that much, yet.

“Well, my parents are still leaning towards sending me to Kook Academy,” Kie said.

You frowned. “Really?”

“Mhm. I’ve managed to convince them to let me stay another year, but I think when I turn seventeen, it’s gonna happen.”

“Damn,” you said.

“Well, we’ll still, like, come hang out with you,” JJ told her.

“Gee, thanks, JJ,” Kiara sarcastically quipped at his luke-warm sentiment.

“Yeah. I’m sure your life is going to be lacking without JJ’s sex-stories,” you joked.

“Jealousy is a disease, babe. Get better,” he said to you, semi-bitter.

The conversation fell into talks about school and summer. Daydreaming for the endless days, when the sun rises at four and sets at midnight. Life feels infinite then, full of endless possibilities. Possibilities that you dote in, like how maybe JJ might snap out of dating this endless string of girls and look at you for once as more than a friend. You knew it was a pipe dream. After being his friend for so long, it seemed pathetic to think he might be able to picture you outside of that box. No matter. He was still your best friend.

“I gotta get going home,” Pope eventually said.

“Me too,” Kie agreed, getting up.

“You guys staying?” John B asked you and JJ.

You shook your head. “Sorry, Stinky. My parents asked for me back for midnight, so I’m already past curfew.”

John B smiled at the nickname. JJ was Smelly so it only seemed right for John B to be Stinky. Downing the last of your beer, you groaned and got to your feet. JJ stood up too.

“I better head as well before my old man gets ticked off,” JJ sighed.

The two of you share a look. You know it was bullshit; he was crashing at your place tonight, just like he did almost every night. The last fight him and his dad got in got bloody. JJ was strong enough to fight back now. He didn’t cry like he did when he was a kid. Just got angry. More times when he’d show up to your house after a row, he’d be seething, cussing his dad out and tugging at his hair. It scared you to see him collapse under the pressure like that. It seemed more and more like there was this tension lying under him. Part of it must’ve been inherited from his dad – his short-fused temper – but it seemed the happy-household he lived in only coaxed it out of him further.

“Ciao ciao,” JJ called as the two of you walked away from the chateau.

“Later Pogues,” John B hollered back.

“Pogues?” you mumbled, looking to JJ.

“Like Pogies? Scum-fish?”

“Ah,” you said, nodding.

“I like the sound of it,” JJ said.

You hummed your agreement. He fixed his cap. This one was green. He got it cheap from a thrift shop.

“Hey, smelly?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” you wondered.

“I feel like you’re going to anyway,” he chuckled.

“Is sex…Like, is it actually that good?” you asked. You want to look at him when you do, but you can’t seem to be able to hold his gaze. Found it easier to casually look at the ground ahead.

JJ shrugged; hands shoved in his short pockets. “Depends. Sometimes it’s better than other times.”

You nodded.

“Why?”

“Just wondering,” you mumbled.

The two of you don’t talk more about it. You walked back to your house in near silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable or tense. Routine as always, you headed up the front door and quietly call out to your parents who are sat in the living room, watching television. You snuck past your younger brother’s door to his bedroom before walking into your own. Opening the window, you started taking off your jewellery at your dresser whilst he clambered through the window. He grabbed his toothbrush from your make-up brush pot, checked the cost of the corridor before darting into the bathroom. By the time he’s done, you were in your pyjamas and sat on the bed, scrolling through Instagram.

JJ borrowed your comb to start taming his hair. He’s stood in front of your mirror, in a pair of gym-style shorts that hang low on his waist. You do your best not to look at him, stood half-naked, abs on proud display. It feels wrong for you too.

“You haven’t had sex yet, right?”

You have to look up from your phone with that.

“What?”

“You haven’t slept with anyone yet, have you?” he repeated.

“Well…No, I guess not,” you mumbled.

JJ looked to you. “Why not?”

You laughed, trying your best to keep your voice down. “Nobody’s really into me like that.”

“Bullshit,” JJ immediately said.

“What?”

“Bull-shit! I know Matty P was asking you to the kegger just last week. That guy’s so horny for you – it’s obvious,” JJ replied.

You rolled your eyes and looked back down at your phone. “He’s also a sad loser who thinks owning a designer watch is an entire personality trait.”

JJ sniggered. “True.”

“I mean, everyone knows it’s fake,” you chuckled. It seemed to work, your distraction from the topic. You didn't think there would be anyway for you to subtly explain how you hadn't entertained the idea of someone else, in the hopes that one day, JJ might want you back.

You move to crawl under the bedsheets as JJ finished up on his hair. He took his spot and you yours, like always, and you flick off your lamp. There’s nothing but a single string of fairy lights keeping your room lit up. They hang above your bedroom door, batteries half-dead, only half-lit. Sighing, you turned off your phone and dumped it in on the bedside table. JJ got comfy, shifting around under the sheets. He smelt of cologne and smoke from the bonfire.

As he laid on his back, you laid on your side, facing the wall. You felt wide awake.

“You remember when we kissed?”

Wide wide awake.

“You mean back at Pirates’ Cove?”

“Yeah,” JJ said lowly into the darkness of the room.

“I mean, yeah. I remember it,” you replied. Silence. “Why?”

“Just thinking about it,” JJ mumbled. Frowning, you wondered what he could mean.

“In what way?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed. You hear the rustle of the duvet as he turned onto his side. You weren’t sure if he was facing you or the other wall. “Just how that was the first time I sort of realised you were a girl.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. You moved the blanket to muffle the noise. Rolling over, you come to find he was facing you. There was barely enough space for Jesus to fit between you both. Maybe his arm, might?

“Flattering, smelly,” you mumbled. Both of you sported lazy smiles.

“You look so different now,” JJ told you.

“I should hope so. That was six years ago,” you replied.

“Shit. Was it that long ago?” he checked. You nodded. “So, we’ve been friends for…”

“Nine years,” you finished.

“Nine years,” JJ echoed.

There was a strange sadness to his voice, like time passed too quickly. He was so much older now. Youth still there but mellowed, from his dad and his mom and his life. One would think adult things like sex and drinking would make him more mature, but it just screamed out him being young. Wanting to experience everything the world can offer, as if he might drop dead tomorrow.

“You know the first time you slept here,” you began, “you were crying. It was after your dad hit you.”

“He’d been laying into my ma,” JJ said, filling in the blanks. “I tried to get him off her and he just went for me instead.”

“I told you something.”

“I know,” JJ smiled. “You told me my house was haunted.”

“I really thought it was,” you chuckled soberly. “And I really thought if we just moved to pirates’ cove, everything would be fixed.”

“I know,” JJ said. “I believed you. I…I remember thinking that it was one of the nicest things you’d ever said to me, when you did.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. I think…”

He cut himself with a sigh, eyes drifting down, away from your gaze. For some reason, it makes your heartbeat viscerally harder.

“You think?” you encouraged, staring at him.

“I think that was the moment I realised I liked you.”

“Well, obviously. We’re friends, JayJ. I knew—”

“No,” he said, cutting you off, firm. His eyes are boring into yours, as if he can see into your thoughts. Your short-lived smile faded. “I mean that I realised I liked liked you. That I had a crush on you.”

You licked your lips nervously. “When we were kids?”

JJ’s fingers brushed against your own, under the blankets. He tangled his into yours, intertwining your hands, just like you had done when you were kids. You couldn’t tell who moved first, but the two of you start to kiss. You sighed against his lips, bringing up a hand to stroke at his jaw, feeling half-detached from your body. Is this real? Is this actually happening? The moment JJ’s teeth gently nipped at your lower lip was your answer. Yes.

All the other girls and all the other bullshit faded away. It didn’t matter to you, in that moment. JJ was tethered to you from the start, since you were kids. Everybody could see it coming – maybe even you – that the two of you would tumble through life together. It just needed time to grow, like nurturing a rare but beautiful flower. Yes, you thought, as the kiss deepens and the hands explored; good things take time.

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