#At this point I’m solely invested for the two friends I’m going with

[waugh-bao]

[toweroftunes]

You’re the SteinMarie person right? Can you talk about what you like about them and their dynamic? 😊

Hi! Hello! Sorry for the delay in getting to this ask but thank you for asking me!!

Idk if I’m the SteinMarie person, but I guess we could say I’m one of them??

Hmm, I think I could say that there are two parts to why I like them.

One is that they’re both just. Silly.

Stein gets a lot of attention because of his neurodivergence — for not being able to properly connect with or understand people, and his way of going about it being concerning to say the least. But I’d like to point out that Stein is. Silly. He’s a smartass and an asshole. When he first meets Spirit again in the series, he jokes to him about his wife knowing full well that they’re divorced. He also says that he’d switched his toes during surgery. In the NOT series, he makes a replica of a girl’s head to scare said girl’s friends with. And Marie is introduced to us by way of her deciding to marry a toilet, then pummeling said toilet when she suspects even the toilet of infidelity. Furthermore when confronting the man who killed Marie’s ex, Stein spins and dips Marie. Absolutely ridiculous.

The other is that while they might be externally presented as ridiculous, they don’t view each other as such; rather they don’t view each other as solely scary, or solely silly, but they actually perceive one another as serious people. And, yes, this is my own reading of it — I think that Marie and Stein are willing to understand each other in ways that others don’t.

On the surface Stein is a perceived as a genius with low emotional intelligence, and disregard for others. And Marie, on the surface, is an overly emotional person who people perceive as obsessed with finding love, starting a family, etc. However, these two are able to express patience, support, and trust for one another outside of these roles/assignments/perceptions.

When Naigus tells Marie that Stein isn’t capable of love, Marie follows him anyway. Not because she thinks he’s capable or incapable of love, but because she trusts that he did not kill BJ. Because she wants to catch BJ’s killer, and because she doesn’t want Stein to go through it all alone.

Stein, in turn, doesn’t question Marie moving into his lab when Lord Death places her as his partner. Instead he exercises patience and support for her moving across the world, for her putting her life and other goals on hold because she holds herself responsible in her duty as a Death Scythe. He also doesn’t question her investment in others as being frivolous; her investment in finding BJ’s killer isn’t about a romantic option being taken away from her, but about giving BJ justice, which Stein is likewise willing to help her do because, yes their interests align, but also because I think he respects the principal of it (this could also go into a whole tangent on Stein’s mental/ideological support system through partnership but I’ll not get into that now).

Patience. Support. Trust.

I think it’s a common reading that Marie makes him better because of her healing wavelength, or because she knows how to take care of him. I hate this interpretation, tbh. I won’t say that that’s not real or how it’s written, because it is in the sense that Medusa and Marie are foils of one another in a fairly reductive way: Medusa as the villain without motherly/caretaker instinct, one who abuses Crona, corrupts Stein, and Marie as the hero with motherly/caretaker instinct, one who comforts Crona, heals Stein. Her goodness in this sense is tied to her ability to be a caretaker and a mother. Blegh.

Marie's goodness is linked to her own principles of justice and kindness, imo. And Stein isn’t someone who needs to be guided so much as someone who needs his own insecurities around his sense of morality challenged.

Agh, sorry this is so long. And also sorry if it isn’t super coherent? I hope it makes a modicum on sense lol. And again, thank you for the ask!

[terrence-silver]

“It’s not a ‘trigger’! I don’t have ‘triggers’! There’s nothing wrong with me! I’m perfectly normal!” sounds to me like something KK3 Terry would say

The Elevator.

---

It was easily considered the biggest architectural eccentricity of the decade.

A fifty two story building looming over the skyline of LA reconstructed in such a way where each of its respective elevators were to be widened --- made bigger --- the shaft dimensions along generously altered from their usual 1850x1500 in diameter to a staggering 2000x1800, which meant of course, that perhaps the entire skeleton of the building itself, from top to bottom, its rebar, its wires, its reinforced concrete blocks, all had to be re-measured and rebuilt, notwithstanding the fact that an entire Skyscraper's worth of furniture and and staff had to be temporarily moved out first before the building could be virtually torn apart right down the middle. Gutted with the precision of a surgical knife. Reconstrued. Re-done. Re-calibrated. Re-fitted into place. The entire infrastructure of Dynatox's HQ remodeled, dissembled and re-assembled, solely to accommodate what they all claimed was a capricious whim --- blowing money for the sake of blowing money; a project that could go into the Millions. Tens of Millions for starters. That would require countless engineers. Man-power. Workers. Coordinators. Equipment. Shiploads of cement. Plans. So many plans. Journalists. News reporters. Pesky protestors outside of his building carrying signs saying how once again, Terry Silver's endeavors have not only polluted the planet but somehow managed to lead to urbanistic chaos amidst renovations, throwing the nearby city neighborhoods into disarray, shutting down entire streets and uglifying the vista for fuck knows how long. Did he at least have a permit for that, they asked? He was first name basis friends with Tom Bradley and they tended to golf together. He didn't need a permit, but if he genuinely wanted it, he could get it. He didn't give a shit either, though. In fact, all of it amused him profoundly. He wanted to ride around in more spaciously comfortable elevators and he would have his desire appeased too. He had the money to fund his own whims, and he would too.

Never thought much of it, until Margaret said what she said.

And then his desires began to itch.

-"Mr. Silver, sir. Forgive me if I inquire, but on the basis of employer-employee confidentiality, taking into consideration the vast sum of investment that'll go into this project ---"-

She adjusted the rim of her glasses perched atop of her nose and he already knew he had to brace himself for what she'd say next and prepare an even wittier comeback; finding his smile prematurely fading from his lips before he could even properly crack a chuckle across the precipice of his tongue. His secretary, like the incarnation of all wisdom and logic itself, looks at him, knowingly, similarly to how someone's grandmother or an aunt would've from across all the stack of building plans sprawled across the empty conference table, save for the two of them. -"But, it's not claustrophobia, is it?"- What? Without breaking a sweat, Margaret Spencer holds his gaze, one of the few people who could, as she clarifies. He knew what the fuck it was, but she chooses to explain anyway, giving him a clear definition with the precision of a Thesaurus, drilling the point home. Something pierces Terry's brain then, like a spiked, hot rod. He knew Margaret didn't do this to pin holes inside of him intentionally, but it happens anyway. He bleeds inwardly. Sees jungle red. -"The irrational fear of confined spaces. It is quite the serious trigger for some."-

On instinct, he finds his tone of voice growing low and dangerously cold.

He cocks his head to one side, assessing the word.

Like a dog assesses the bone between his teeth.

-"Trigger?"-

He seethes.

The term is unfamiliar.

Akin to a weird blank. Yet he doesn't like it. He loathes it.

Wants to tear into like, like a punching dummy.

Hit it until it collapses dead underneath his feet.

Was she implying what she was implying? That he was doing renovations, importing material, flying in engineers from as far as Korea, ready to blow the budget of a smaller country and all because he was too chickenshit to get into an elevator that felt slightly too small? Because it reminded him of 'Nam? Of the cage? She was infuriatingly right, of course, like someone who knew him for far too long could only ever be, and he hated it. Felt bared and seen by it. Felt the need to fight. Get defensive. So he does. -"It’s not a ‘trigger’!"- He hisses, getting up from his leather rotating office chair in a haste, sensing his own jaw tightening, finding he was speaking to the older woman through painfully gritted teeth. He relished the pain though, seeking more of it, because a soldier didn't do pain. He didn't do triggers either. Who invented that anyway!? What would John say about that if he knew!? Bullshit! Suddenly, his anger flares up to volcanic degrees. He's there, furiously pointing a ring-bejeweled finger at her, every trace of humor long since gone. -"I don’t have ‘triggers’, Margaret!"- He stands firm in that fact, but she sits there --- not judging --- but seeming stoic. Unconvinced. Folders and files neatly in her lap, the picture of professional poise and experience. Tricking Margaret Spencer was like trying to trick one's own mother; they always seemed to know better. He would've fired anyone else on the spot and issued a lawsuit their way, destroying every prospect of any further career anywhere, but with her? He felt the need to justify himself somehow. Convince her, from a strictly business standpoint, that they weren't sinking Billions into a building solely on the basis of him being afraid. He didn't do afraid either. There was no fear in this dojo. In this unit.

-"There’s nothing wrong with me! I’m perfectly normal!"-

He shouts suddenly, spittle flying from his mouth.

Once he realizes the outburst, he stops just as abruptly.

Straightens himself out. Halts. Re-takes control.

Stops pacing around the office like a feral animal.

It was technically her job to ask these things. Man, he was overreacting.

All of this seems funny out of nowhere, even though he was furious just a second ago.

Terry chuckles. Then, he cackles. His eyelids ache. He forgot to blink.

-"I'm fine. Lighten up, Margaret."-

He brushes it off, going for nonchalance, not feigning a single part of it, though, feeling it, in fact, in every part of his body; this unbearable lightness of being, filling his head with the high of an unexpected euphoria. He was fine. He truly was. By the end of year two since commencing the master plan programme, in a Herculean effort of unprecedented proportions, his vision is complete and his project done. Of course, Forbes writes about it extensively. So does Architectural Digest at a ribbon cutting ceremony. He rides a private elevator out of spite to commemorate the occasion, one of many and newly designed according to his specifications, going to the top floor of his building, right to the spire, where his office was overlooking Los Angeles, deciding to overcome himself once and for all forget what fear ever even meant by definition.

[bundrops-n-fluffytops]

Welcome Home Ship Fic- Love Flutters High, So Don’t Fly Without Me

Characters: Eddie Dear, Frank Frankly

Setting: Butterfly Garden

Premise: Eddie surprises his boyfriend Frank with a trip to a butterfly garden. Little does he know that Eddie has more planned than just a visit.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

With all the time they had spent together, Frank Frankly had discovered that the resident mailman Eddie Dear - who just so happened to be his boyfriend of 3 years - was not great at surprises.

Granted, he himself was quick to notice a change in his behavior whenever he had something planned for him. Most of the time he would point it out, but other times he kept quiet just to see the mailman’s excitement in “surprising” him. While he was never good at keeping secrets, he sure was thoughtful about the surprise itself, and Frank cherished that thoughtfulness.

So it came no surprise to him that Eddie had saved up enough to go to a rather well-off butterfly garden out of town.

The garden itself was a large, open sanctuary that consisted of only the rarest, most visually-pleasing butterflies and insects that would grace the trees and plants and flowers around them. Colors such as crimson, turquoise, mauve, fawn, terracotta danced and fluttered around the garden, as the sun hit against the Earth gracing it with its radiance.

“I’m quite surprised you managed to save up so much just for this garden, Eddie,” the entomologist said, hiding his giddy excitement under a smug and sarcastic tone, “It’s quite the bargain to even make the drive.” Eddie chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Ahh, it’s nothin’, love,” the redhead replied, “Ah know how much you love these lil’ critters, it’s only fair to let ya see ‘em up close!” Frank smiled, leaning in and planting a chaste kiss on the redhead’s rosy cheek. It quickly dusted a dark shade of crimson, making the grey fellow giggle a bit.

“Well, let’s not dilly-daddle any longer, dear. This trip won’t be wasted a second more!” Frank gripped Eddie’s larger hand in his lanky grey grasp, leading him quickly to the nearest enclosure of butterflies he could find.

The day really consisted solely on Frank chattering and jabbering about the insects he saw, providing any information and facts about them when they both saw them, as Eddie stood listening intently and occasionally bumping in to question about something. The southerner knew how much this trip meant for his usually sour partner, and he loved seeing him so invested in something they both knew he loved.

This recounted quite the memories for the both of them.

The two had met the same day that Eddie first moved into the town of Welcome Home, with the redhead accidentally tripping over and falling atop the bookworm. At first, the grumpy fellow detested the constant and almost infectious positivity from the mailman, seeing it as more of a nuisance than something to look forward to. As the weeks went by, however, Frank began to feel comfort and content with seeing the rosy-cheeked redhead almost every day, and even looked forward to seeing him. Hell, even on days that he didn’t receive mail, he would make it a point in speaking with him at least once, even if it was a simple hello. It made him feel at peace.

Soon enough, they had become quite close, almost best friends if Julie wasn’t in the picture. Months went by and soon enough Frank had realized that he had developed quite the crush on Eddie Dear, to which he was mortified about at first. Of all the people he had met, why as he the one that caught his attention? It took a lot of self-affirmation and love counseling from Julie to affirm that he needed to confess his feelings to him before it became a problem.

And so, he did. Wouldn’t ya know it, Eddie had felt almost the exact same way towards him! That nauseous, fluttery feeling in his chest and stomach, the fear of knowing that this was a thing, et cetera. To say that the entomologist was shocked was an understatement, but to say he was happy about it was much more of an underwhelming assumption than he was shocked.

They started dating not long afterwards, their relationship as public as can be. Chatting turned into hand-holding, which turned into hugging, which turned into cuddling, which turned into kissing. It was no surprise to the rest of the town, of course, with everyone and their grandmas finding out about them as quick as a wink. They didn’t mind it, as long as it didn’t interfere with their personal lives, and had stayed quite happy since then.

They both cherished each and every moment together, with every sneaky little tease one would whisper in the other’s ear - sending them into a flustered frenzy every time - to each and every tear wiped away when they needed it. It was a delicate, gentle but also raw and authentic love they had not been familiar with before, but loved every second of. Every day felt like they were still in their “dorky crush” phase. It was an adventure every day they were together, and neither of them wanted it to stop any time soon.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Soon enough, the exhibits for each insect began to dwindle, as the day sun shifted into a pleasant afternoon. Bright orange and pink painted the sky as it quickly shifted into dusk. Eddie and Frank were visiting the last exhibit both were comfortable with ending the day on before making their way back to town. It centered around a gorgeous species of butterfly, an “Inachis Io” or “peacock butterfly”. Its wings shown with vibrant shades of orange and black, with light accents of pale yellow and blue on the tips. Frank was almost vibrating at the sight, babbling at anything that came to mind that he knew about the beautiful creature as he flapped his hands with joy. His back was turned towards the exhibit the entire time.

“These beautiful creatures are absolutely stunning! They’re named after the large eye spots on their wings, reflecting the appearance of peacock feathers. Those same insects also have a wingspan of up to 55 millimeters, which is quite egregious to think about, really. Oh, and the males are incredibly territorial, defending their meal and nesting areas with quite the energy, it’s amazing!” Eddie was almost lost at the amount of information that Frank was babbling to him. However, his heart still fluttered seeing his boyfriend talk so passionately about his interest. He would go into such long tangents about them, to the point he would get distracted with just talking any them.

In this situation, this came in handy for Eddie.

As Frank began to wrap up his long, long, long self-rehearsed documentary about the titular butterfly, he began to turn back towards his boyfriend, expecting him to look almost frazzled at the bombardment of new information. For him, he expected nothing less, and nothing new.

When Frank turned back, however, what he didn’t expect was to see that same predictably loving man down on one knee.

Frank was stunned silent.

Eddie took a deep breath, and smiled towards him. He lifted his hand to hold his lover’s in his hold, cupping them together.

“Listen. I’ll be quiet frank with you - and that don’t mean I’m not Eddie either, heh - but the past few years we’ve been together have been the best I’ve had in mah whole life. Every day I can’t wait to wake up to you brewin’ the two of us a cup o’ joe, and every night I wait until I know you’re asleep to whisper ‘I love you’ without you knowin’. I learn something new almost every day, and I always get so damn excited to hear what you have to say next. It feels like a theater play but the genre changes every line, and I have to check the fliers to make sure I’m watching the right show, haha! And even then, it feels like every time I look at you, and I see that smile of yours, it’s brand new. I feel like my younger self that just met you every day, like I just tripped and fell on ya when I moved in. I fell in love with you that very moment, and by God do I still love you. From every little thing that makes ya tick to the most obvious details, every single part of you is something that I want to keep my whole life. Which, of course, is why I’m here, down on one knee, wanting to ask you something incredibly important.”

Frank had been reduced to a silently sobbing mess, with hot tears streaming down his now flushed cheeks. His free hand had occupied the space over his mouth, trying and failing to keep himself from openly crying.

Eddie reached to his left pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. He popped it open towards him, revealing a golden band with a large gem embellished on the middle sitting on a white cushion.

“Frank Frankly… will you make this lovesick fool a huge promise, and please marry me?”

That done it.

The titular Frank collapsed onto his knees, both hands covering his face as he sobbed loudly in front of his boyfriend. He leaned in towards the kneeling mailman, resting his head against his chest. Said mailman quickly fumbled with the box, closing it and putting in near him before wrapping his arms around his near inconsolable boyfriend.

“A-ah, Frank!? Are you alright, did I scare ya? Hold on, did I do this wrong, was it supposed to be here or-“

Eddie didn’t get to finish his worrying before a pair of lips crashed into his. Frank quickly wrapped his arms around the southern’s neck, gripping tightly as he melted into the kiss. Eddie soon joined him in the passionate embrace, resting one hand on his back and another cradling the back of his lover’s head. He could feel himself tear up alongside his lover, but as to why the hell he would care he couldn’t find a reason. They both sat there, melding and kissing each other in the tangerine and rose dusk, the sun radiating what light left onto the embracing couple.

They soon very hesitantly broke off the kiss, and rested each other’s foreheads against each other, breathing heavily. They stared longingly into each others’ tear-filled gazes, their loving smiles almost glued to each other. They stayed in that position for quite a while, simply basking in the moment they had together, before Eddie broke the silence.

“So, uhh… is that a yes?” Eddie sheepishly asked, chuckling as he did so.

“Oh, criminy Eddie Dear, of course I’ll marry you,” the grey fellow answered, “do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for you to ask me?” They both laughed, voices strained and out of breath from crying and staying in such a passionate kiss.

Eddie reached down beside him to pick the velvet box back up, popping it open once more and carefully removing the ring. He gently held his now-fiancé’s left hand and slid the ring on his finger until it hit the base. The titular fiancé stayed and admired the ring as it sat on his hand for a while, turning it and gawking at its edges and gleams as it reflected from the sun behind them.

They soon returned to their kiss, slowly standing up as they held each other close in their embrace. Eddie cradled his fiancé’s tear-stained face gently in his hands, while the other wrapped theirs behind his neck. They stayed once more in their passionate kiss, never wanting to break apart from such an important moment. They then split apart slowly before falling into a tight hug, resting each other’s heads on the others shoulder. It felt so surreal and dreamlike, yet it was so absolute and pure and… real.

They were really getting married.

Three years together and they were going to get married.

Frank broke the comfortable silence this time after a long moment in each others arms.

“My god, Eddie, think of the wedding! The venue will be outside and the sun will be shining and there will be the prettiest insects flying in the great blue sky, it’ll be perfect!” Frank giddily rambled about the future wedding, Eddie chuckling at the excitement he showed. Frank lifted his gaze towards the mailman, a beautiful smile plastered on his face.

“I can’t believe I’m finally going to get married to you, Eddie,” he wistfully said. Eddie wiped any stray tears falling down his cheeks, laughing lovingly with him. He pulled him towards himself and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Well, let’s not wait a second longer! Might as well get planning before the moment dies out!”, Eddie quickly said. He suddenly lifted his fiancé off from the ground, holding him in a bridal carry as he laughed heartily alongside him. They quickly made their way to the exit of the garden, more than ready to start planning the wedding.

Whatever was going to happen to them a, they were more than prepared to face it now that they were getting married. It may not be predictable, but it sure was something they could do together.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

[voxofthevoid]

Hi Vox! Is me, werewolf anon. How you been? Hopefully feeling better from your sickness?

I took your advice and started reading "The way it follows you home" and so far it's been a fun ride! Past Gojo being jealous of Future Gojo over Future Yuji is adorable lol. Also your "Itadori sensei" seems so much more responsible than Gojo ever was! But I must admit my favorite part was Future Yuji giving the watch to Past Nanami. Even though for this Yuji, Nanami has been dead a thousand years, he still misses him so much. I thought you wrote that wistful nostalgia and pain really beautifully and I'm glad that Past Nanami understood how significant this gesture was. Good job! I'm looking forward to you finishing the rest!

And I usually don't wade into ship discourse because I find it exhausting but I read you've been getting some negativity and I'm so sorry to hear that. I truly don't understand why people want to invest that much time and energy into shitting on other people's likes when they can just focus on what they like. The tags are RIGHT THERE. The back button is RIGHT THERE. It's the reader's responsibility to set their own boundaries. The whole point of AO3 caters to that.

Also I really appreciate how THOROUGHLY you tag. You even expand on the author notes. So these haters literally have no excuse! For example, I tend to stay away Noncon and am selective about dubcon. I'm really grateful the care you put into first warning the readers because then I can make my own choice if I am in a headspace to read it.

And I want to emphasize that I think you should write whatever the hell you want because it's YOUR space. Just like it's MY job to create the online experience I want.

THAT BEING SAID...you are definitely the author I go: "Hmm...I usually don't read fics with this tag but I'll try it because it's Vox." 😂 Like the captured mermaid Bucky fic. Oooh yeah I definitely did a thousand yard stare after to process that one lol! But I love how your fics help me get out of my comfort zone and explore in the safety of fiction. And no surprise, I've loved every single one.

So what I'm trying to say is, you do you. I think there's many readers who are grateful for all your hard work.

Here's a token of my appreciation. It's not much but hopefully it puts a smile on your face. Once again cursing Tumblr for being unable to attach an image file on anon asks! Take care!

https://u.cubeupload.com/Anon9000/Xu1nOV.png

Hello there!

Ahh, I’m glad you’re liking that fic so far! It’s close to the end. Penultimate chapter will go up in a few hours, and the final chapter will be out in Feb, the cosmos willing. Gojou reacting to his own self entertains me endlessly, so I keep writing it. Two versions of that…very loud personality existing at the same time in each other’s vicinity would have one hell of a blast radius, and putting Yuuji squarely in it is one of my favorite things to do in JJK. And I do write Yuuji as a more responsible teacher than Gojou, true! But you can guess that his decency and restraint rarely last.

Not over Nanami’s death yet, huh? Mood though 🍻 It’s great to know that was your favorite scene! And I'm glad the emotional elements came through well.

Stay safely out of ship discourse, my friend. It ain’t worth it. It tends to come find me, but ah well. In JJK, it’s not even ship discourse that keeps haunting me; it’s fucking top–bottom discourse. I haven’t run into anyone pissy about my choice of Le Problematique ships yet (and I sure hope it stays that way). And top/bottom is one of the few things I don’t tag, solely because several instances of hypocrisy in general fandom pissed me off and I’m spiteful on a good day, but it’s also not something that’s hard to figure out. Those familiar with me know I stick to a single dynamic, and others will learn. Otherwise, there’s trusty CTRL+F. That all aside, I’m glad you like my tagging practices! I try to make it so that those who want spoilers/warnings will be able to access them, while those who don’t can hide the additional tags and ignore my drop-down warnings.

I did do a double-take when you said you tend to avoid noncon and then name-dropped the captive mer!Bucky fic—but in a good way! I can’t tell you how wonderful—that’s not a strong enough word, really—it is to know my fics can be that kind of a safe exploration for you. That’s hands-down one of the greatest compliments I’ll ever hear about my stories 💗

And don’t worry, I’ve mostly found very lovely people in fandom. JJK is a little more obnoxious about certain things than I’m used to, but the vast majority of my readers and fellow fans are kind, supportive, and delightful. I’m prone to getting pretty pissed off when assholes pop up in my inbox, but it usually leaves me ten times as determined to keep doing my thing.

I LOVE THAT YUUJI! Holy shit, he’s adorable. I want to pinch his cheeks and also eat him 🥺

I've saved that to my fanart folder for future pick-me-ups. Thank you so much! You’re a sweetheart 💗

[jmagnabo92]

CBS Ghosts - Pilot - Sam & Jay Fight

This is the next scene in the pilot - the one where Sam and Jay fight.  I’m excited for this one, but no Trevor :(

Gifs and Discussion below:

Side note - I’m amused that Sam is writing her article (I assume) on the ladder.  

Two things are interesting here - they originally decided to go to the Woodstone for the weekend, so we’ve lost a whole day unless they only came up Saturday to Sunday.  

Also, interesting - Sam has clearly already decided on living at the mansion (probably before they ever got there) while Jay is far more practical about moving into a rundown old house.  

I definitely wonder if her quick acceptance had to deal with being miserable in the city?  (I assume she was by later comments, like ‘we barely saw each other”, “we worked so much - never home”, Ect.  

She also blends into the country life way easier than Jay does into the mansion and I don’t believe that it’s solely due to the ghosts - she never mentions the city life, friends or missing anything about it in the way that Jay clearly does.  

Okay - so, this is funny.  Jay’s like “I’m going to say it - mumbles”.  

Jay, that is just not how this works!  Also, did Sam not expect to have this conversation?  She sounds surprised even though that is literally what they agreed to do.  

Okay - multiple things here - AGAIN it’s the 4 OLDEST ghosts that have chosen to watch Sam & Jay.  Now, is it because they’re worried about losing their free rein of the house?  (They were the most concerned about new comers).  Is it because they’re very bored?  But then, wouldn’t the others be bored, too?

We know that Trevor & Pete are having a war with the Vase, but what about Flower & Alberta?  Why aren’t they invested in their possible new livings?

Also, they’re all excited that Jay’s saying “Damn it, I don’t want to uproot our entire lives” - is this exciting because ‘nothing better than a husband/wife fight’ or is it because they’re like - maybe our lives won't change after all?  

Lastly, THE LOOKS ON THEIR FACES when Thor compares it to ‘Finding a new type of cod’ - OMG.  It’s freaking hilarious.  I love it.

Okay.  Sam, I need you to listen to me - this isn’t about ‘Change’ - it’s beyond crazy to uproot your lives on a dime and take out all of the money to RISK losing everything.  Yes, change is scary, but you didn’t answer the question - and you definitely decided that you wanted to move before you ever saw the house.

I wish they had let Jay truly explain what the issue is - it’s more than being afraid to change - this isn’t just changing jobs, moving someplace or having a baby, this is quitting your jobs and suddenly deciding to open a business on a dime.  It’s kind of insane.  

LOL, Isaac.  He’s just like so smitten - Jay was not even trying to be funny.  I do love that Sass is giving Isaac a look like ‘who you kidding’, Thor doesn’t care, and Hetty’s smiling - given the story in Whodunnit, do we think Hetty realizes what’s going on with Isaac?  

She could technically believe he’s into both (or be hopeful) given what happens in Thorapy.  It is believable since she knows that he was once married.

This is the EXACT moment Hetty decides that she likes Sam despite her ‘hideous pants and saucy hairdo’.  She’s like “Woodstone - connection - Family, love it.”

It does explain her reaction later on (at the end of the episode) when she originally opted haunt them out of the house and get rid of her.  

LMAO - Sass is like “Our home sucks” and Hetty’s like “Damn it - give the house more respect”.  It’s a funny exchange.

ANYWHO - Jay is absolutely right.  They were barely surviving in NYC and NOW you want to dump money you don’t have in house out in the middle of nowhere?  Nah.  That’s nutty.  

THIS IS AN EXCELLENT POINT JAY!  When you become a couple you should make decisions JOINTLY!  This is WAY too crazy an idea to give into on a whim - you could at least take more time to decide!

WHAT EVEN IS THIS???? Like Sam - this makes no sense.  Jay’s right, she’s learned nothing.  OTOH this is apparently what she does - storm out.  Which is interesting.  Also interesting, having this discussion naked in a bathrobe.

Awww, Hetty’s watching her storm out - probably surprised, she never would have considered doing that with Elias because she didn’t have the power Sam has in the 21st century in the 19th century, but also, she just seemed to warm up to Sam (because she wants to raise a family in the family home), so she’s like ‘now I'm going to lose her’.  

LMAO - what an ending to the scene.  Thor’s probably thinking ‘damnit no sex show’ and laughing because Jay won’t be getting sex, while hurting Isaac who’s like ‘Damn it man’.  Sass just rolling his eyes.  ‘Ya’ll are idiots’.  

Anyway, that’s it for this scene - I agree with Jay (he’s being the logical/rational side - which he ruins at the end of the episode) while Sam’s being the emotional/irrational side, which ironically changes at the end of the episode.  

Obviously there would be NO show without Jay caving, but he isn’t wrong for his perspective on things.  I do wonder just how miserable Sam was in NYC to make this drastic of a change in the blink of an eye.

[saintflint]

i’ve withheld from severely interacting with the whole black sails vs our flag means death in terms of lgbt representation debate but i was discussing this all with a friend last night so now i’m fired up and i have points to make and i’ll try to be as nice as possible.

first of all, the utter thoughtlessness in the one tweet who said, “ofmd is doing what black sails never had the balls to do.” are you all really that shortsighted? i’ve said this before and i’ll say it now, it fucking sucks that the majority of today’s consumers have legitimately begun to separate gay media created for gay audiences into categories of, “well, this one is the GOOD one, the REAL one cause it has ____” and, “that’s the BAD one though cause they wouldn’t or didn’t ____.” get the idea of baiting vs not baiting out of your minds and please just admit that you’ve lost the ability to invest in multiple, different gay stories with varying levels of intimacy and nuance outside of “fandom” and “shippable-ness.”

secondly, i’m going to get into black sails itself as it has been, and always will be, a pioneering work of lgbt media and representation. i won’t deny its faults and shortcomings in its narrative, i myself have pointed them out more than once and will continue to. but quite frankly, ofmd would not exist without black sails paving the way. it wouldn’t. and even if it did or could and you want to argue that, you can’t argue that the creators of black sails created it for the purpose of showing real, authentic, complex lgbt relationships not as a joke, or a side piece, but in a pivotal and impactful historical and narrative context. the creators wrote captain flint as a gay man. toby stephens (who played him) has spoken proudly of this fact. silver and flint didn’t kiss or have sex onscreen but neither steinberg (the show runner), nor luke arnold (silver), nor stephens denied the love those two characters shared. you also have to understand, especially if you haven’t watched black sails, that the story itself was written to be a tragedy, not a romance. their love wouldn’t and couldn’t be fully reciprocated solely due to both of their complex histories and fated separation tied to their future and source material, “treasure island.” and regardless of silver and flint’s relationship, are you really going to overlook the other just as crucial lgbt characters and relationships? black sails still gave us eleanor and max, max and anne, max and anne and jack. for fuck’s sake, flint’s entire war stems from the tragedy of being separated from his first love, thomas. so please don’t be ridiculous and tell me black sails didn’t represent our community when it did more than just represent, it lead with us.

and doesn’t all of that, make the existence of ofmd all the more sweeter (for gay audiences and gay audiences who specifically love gay pirates)? in the words of my friend ailith (@aseaofhoney), who really co-wrote this entire post, “black sails is a tragedy in which everything comes from love, our flag is a romance in defiance of all calls towards tragedy.” so stop pitting two masterworks against each other, please and thanks. they’re best friends. they told me themselves.

and please stop ignoring and being blatantly obtuse to both of these wonderful stories, and any other works of gay media, that were made for us by cast and creators who care.

[unoriginalmess]

Untitled Feralnette Fic Ch. 1

Hiya there anyone who happens upon this first chapter of this fic. I would like to start out by saying that this is my first fanfic ever. I've been wanting to write a fic for the miraculous fandom for a while but I haven't had any inspiration until I stumbled upon this glorious AU created by @bigfatbreak. I highly suggest checking out all of their posts about this au because they are hilarious and genius and about 100 other amazing adjectives that could be used to describe them and their posts. Anyways enough with my rant and let's get on with the fic. ⚠️Slight angst⚠️ ⚠️Swearing⚠️

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When Marinette got home after her and Luka's breakup, all she could do was cry. She wanted to be with him, but her Ladybug duties came first. If lying is a deal breaker for him, then maybe it was best that they ended it now while their relationship was still in its early stages. Still, she couldn't help but feel the loss of her first relationship. She ended up crying for a whole entire day. She just hoped that Hawkmoth(or Shadowmoth or whatever the fuck he wanted to be referred to as this week) wasn't feeling particularly akuma-y today, because she didn't know if she could bottle up all these feelings, even though the world is relying on her ability to do so.

Ugggghhh!! It has been exhausting having to be "happy and perfect Marinette" and "happy and perfect Ladybug" All. The. Time. She's also pretty sure that Hawkmoth had discovered the similarities in her personality as Marinette to Ladybug, and that's why she's been targeted by multiple akumas lately. She has had to have her emotions under control even more than usual. If only there was a way to get Hawkmoth to stop targeting her. Maybe she should just not give a fuck anymore. Haha as if! It couldn't be that easy! Could it?

The more she thinks about it the more it starts to make sense. If she just let herself go completely crazy as Marinette, she would be killing like 10 birds with one stone. She would get hawkmoth off of her trail, she wouldn't have to deal with having to hide her emotions all of the time, she wouldn't have to deal with the added stress of maintaining her perfect persona, she wouldn't have to deal with the stress of Lila's lies taking her friends away if she didn't have friends in the first place, and so much more stress would be taken off of her plate! It was perfect! It might hurt a little at first, but it's for the best in the end. She spent that night planning out her outfit for tomorrow, doing her homework, and going to sleep knowing that, in the morning, François Dupont isn't gonna know what hit them.

....

Adrien Agreste had been having a rough week. He had been abandoned on patrol by ladybug, been broken up with by his girlfriend, and was feeling completely and utterly alone. He knows that his lady has been feeling overwhelmed by her guardian duties lately, and that he 100% deserved that verbal lasting that kagami had given him but he couldn't help but feel this way. He was also feeling guilty about lying to kagami and leading her on for so long. After she broke up with him he took some time to assess his feelings for her and realized that he had more of an admiration for her than an infatuation. He definitely didn't feel the same way about her that she felt about him. She told him that she LOVED HIM, and he was so distracted (blinded) by ladybug that he didn't even process her confession. So, he was looking forward to Sunday morning. He cleared his schedule and on that beautiful Sunday morning, he did what he is only allowed to do on very rare occasions: sleep in. Or at least... thats what he had planned on doing.

When Nathalie had knocked on his door that morning Adrien was not in a good mood. He vaguely heard her say something about father wanting him downstairs in some amount of time for something involving a business partners child and some other robotic sounding words that his half asleep brain couldn't process completely.

"I have a cleared schedule this morning, Nathalie. What could father possibly want me for that is more important than my precious sleep?" He asked snappily.

"Your father wants you downstairs to welcome the new guest that will be living in the house for the rest of the school year. You have 15 minutes to make yourself look presentable and I suggest leaving the attitude upstairs," she half informed/half reprimanded him. As she walked away, Adrien reluctantly rose from his nice warm bed and went to go get ready with only one thought racing through his mind: Who could possibly be staying with them?

....

Felix Culpa was not looking forward to living at the Agreste mansion for the rest of the school year, but for their parents' sake they would do what they had to. It wasn't all for their parents either, they were also concerned about the strange "dissapearance" of Emilie (who was his aunt in all ways except blood relation) and about the treatment of Adrien since said "disappearance".

You see, Felix Culpa is the heir to the Culpa Fabric Empire. The Culpas have been the sole fabric supplier of the Agreste brand since the very beginning. Felix's mom Diana was best friends with Emilie since their college days. Diana and Emilie made the deal with the two brands because as best friends who are both involved in the same industry, it just made sense to have a business relationship with each other. Diana never really cared for Gabriel as a person, but she could tell that he loved Emilie more than anyone else in the world so she could tolerate him for the sake of her best friend.

When Emilie went missing, Diana was absolutely devastated and tried anything she could to find her. She invested in missing person ads as large as billboards, organized search teams, tried to aid the police in their search for her in any way she could, but there was no leads, no legitimate calls to the number on the billboards, and the search team came up empty handed. While she was doing all of this to try to find her, she couldn't help but be furious over the fact that Gabriel was doing nothing to help in the search. All he did was hole himself up in his oversized mansion and call it a day.

The last straw for Diana was when Gabriel tried to use the "grieving my wife" excuse to try to abuse their business arrangement. That day, she told him that the Culpa brand would no longer be associated with the Agreste brand and that after the new collection is released, he would need to find a new fabric supplier. She knew that the Agreste brand would take a huge hit from having sub-par fabric, but she never thought that Gabriel would try to make up for that fact by using Adrien as a walking mannequin and locking him up in the desolate prison that he calls a home. As soon as she realized that he was doing this she scrambled to find a solution.

That is how Felix ended up here, standing in front of the mansion they would be living in for the next 9 months in exchange for Gabriel getting back into the Culpa brand's good graces. Don't get them wrong, they were excited about being able to be in Paris, home of the most innovative fashion pieces in the world, and about being able to see their honorary cousin Adrien (who wasn't half bad to be around despite him having no backbone whatsoever when it came to anything involving his father) but dealing with Mr. Agreste was definitely one of the low points of this arrangement.

They decided to just get it over with and knocked on the door. It was opened by the man that their cousin affectionately referred to as Gorilla. They nodded a thank you to the man, remembering that he was a man of few words, and proceeded to the bottom of the staircase. Mr. Agreste stood at the top with a very tired looking Adrien a few steps down. Felix wasn't even slightly surprised that this is where he chooses to welcome his guests, looking down on people must give him some sort of power trip or something. It's almost as if he heard the phrase "It's over, Anakin, I have the high ground," and made that his own personal motto. Whatever, let him have the feeling of false power if he wanted it, Felix knows that they have all the power in this situation and they're sure that Gabriel knows it as well.

"Hello Felix," Mr. Agreste greeted them with the same amount of warmth in his voice as liquid nitrogen, "while you are staying in this house you will abide by my rules. Adrien will inform you of them and show you to your room. You will attend school with him in the morning and I'm sure that you already know that you must represent not only the Culpa brand, but also the Agreste as well. I will be in my office working, do not disturb me. Contact Nathalie with any questions that cannot be answered by Adrien." He finished his spiel and left to what Felix assumed was his office space.

"Hello Felix!" Adrien greeted him with as much enthusiasm as he could muster in his sleepy state. "Come with me and I'll show you to your room."

Adrien led Felix to their room and listed all of the rules of the household that they were expected to follow. And... wow. Felix could not believe that their cousin had to live like this. The only social interaction this kid gets is at school and fencing? Pre-approved outings only with people determined socially acceptable by Gabriel? And if he gets even one "B" he isn't even going to be allowed to go to school at all? Felix knew that the living situation was bad for Adrien but know the only question running through their head was: What did they get themselves into??

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And... thats it for chapter 1! Mostly background info at this point, but next chapter will be the class' reaction to feralnette and felinette meeting for the first time. I just want to say thanks again to @bigfatbreak for giving me the inspiration to write a fic for the first time ever. Feel free to leave constructive criticism, I'm always looking to improve, especially at writing since this is my first time posting anything I've written online, so I want to get better so that I can make better content for you guys, gals, and non-binary pals. If anyone wants to be tagged just let me know and I'll make a tag list for ya. :)

[harrytpotter]

What’s Happening To Me? — OneShot

Plot: James Potter was starting to feel more and more overprotective towards his friend Y/N and considerably annoyed at the blatant flirting she and one of his best friends were displaying publicly and at the thought she might be falling for Sirius. What was happening to him?

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader.

Word Count: 5,9K.

A/N: I just had revised this long-ass story entirely and was pretty proud at the summary i came up with just for Tumblr to mess up with my post and erase its entire content, only leaving the title behind. Now i can’t remember the previous summary i wrote and am pissed about it. Anyways, I love writing for James and it shows. I won’t revise this again because i really am annoyed at tumblr so apologies in advance for any mistakes! :)

James tried to concentrate on Slughorn’s voice as the professor went on and on about whatever potion they were going to start working on during next week. He was really doing his best to absorb his words, but an extremely flirty pair beside him was making this task nearly impossible. He knew this was just for show since Sirius wanted to make Marlene jealous and Y/N kindly agreed to help him out, but all of this was still bothering him for some reason. Maybe it was because he knew Sirius way too well to know for sure he was enjoying this situation a little too much. Maybe it was because he cared about Y/N enough to bother if Sirius was going to end up hurting her somehow. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Merlin, would you two stop? It’s getting annoying,” he hissed at Y/N and Sirius, whom had been all giggly and touchy for the entire class.

“Does it bother you to see a happy couple in love, Prongs?” Sirius teased, barely suppressing a laugh.

“I’m just trying to pay attention to class,” he mumbled annoyed, his fists clenching slightly.

“Don’t be mean to him, Sirius!” Y/N bumped her fist on his arm. “He’s bitter because Lily is still turning him down despite his best efforts,” Y/N looked at James sympathetically as if saying she was sorry for him.

James sighed heavily at the mention of Lily’s name. Sure, it did annoy him that she was still rejecting his attempts of woo her, but, if he was being quite frank, it didn’t bother or frustrate him like it used to. If anything, it just... he didn’t even know anymore. Why he was still chasing her. Why he was still trying to get her to go out with him. It was seeming more and more pointless lately. He wasn’t sure if he was still pinning after her for a purpose or solely for the challenge.

“Earth to James!” Y/N waved her hand in front of James’ eyes. “You there?”

James tilted his head a little so his best friend’s face could enter his visual field. Her y/h/c hair was loose in a messy way that suited her perfectly, matching harmonically her hypnotic y/e/c eyes. She had a natural confidence that seemed to radiate from her body and wrap every single soul in the room. She was truly effortlessly magnetic. James started feeling flustered suddenly, unbeknownst to why.

“You alright there, mate?” Sirius asked with a brow lifted, staring at him.

“Never better, Pads!” James shot a cocky grin his way, brushing off the unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach.

James fell unusually quiet for the short rest of the class, his mind flickering between Y/N and Sirius and Lily. Everything just seemed so... out of place right now. He didn’t even notice Slughorn dismissing the class until Y/N tapped gently on his shoulder.

“Are you coming, Jamesy?” She asked, Sirius wrapping her against his chest. “Everyone else is already gone.”

“Sure...” James mumbled, still a little airy. His eyes wandered from Sirius’ tight grip around Y/N to her hand gently holding his wrist as her thumb caressed his skin lightly.

“Hurry up, Prongs! We can’t be late for lunch, I have a special surprise for my love here,” Sirius lifted Y/N’s chin gently whilst staring devilishly into her eyes.

James once again felt the same unsettling feeling he did before in the pit of his stomach when he noticed a subtle pink tone brushing through Y/N’s cheeks for a split second as she stared dumbfounded at Sirius.

“You two realize Marlene isn’t even here anymore to witness your annoying flirt, don’t you?” James asked his friends grumpily.

“Would you lighten up for Merlin’s sake, Prongs? Love is never annoying!” Sirius winked at him.

“Love might not be but you certainly are, darling,” Y/N retorted teasingly at Sirius, who took his free hand to his chest in mock offense.

“I usually grow on people, do you know that? Don’t you be so quick on biting the hand that feeds you,” he winged his brows at their amused female friend.

“You really are a complete prat, Sirius Black!” Y/N rolled her eyes with a large grin.

They were so invested on teasing each other that they had seemingly forget about James’ presence. The Gryffindor Quidditch captain spat an annoyed goodbye at his friends before storming off the classroom.

Y/N frowned and mentioned to follow James, but Sirius quickly grabbed her gently by the arm, stopping her from doing so.

“What are you doing? We have to go check on him! Haven’t you noticed how annoyed he left?” She lifted a brow at the grey-eyed boy.

“I did, indeed. But I also have noticed that he seems a little too annoyed at us lately, specially at me,” he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

“Your point? He’s probably still frustrated at his last unsuccessful attempt of wooing Lily,” Y/N sighed.

“Oh, love, believe me, this has nothing to do with Lily. I know Prongs way too well, better than he knows himself, if I may add.”

“Are you implying he’s in love with you?” Y/N exploded in a loud laugh. “Of course it has to do with Lily. It always has something to do with Lily.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes whilst a mischievous grin took over his face. Y/N did a pretty good job in hiding her annoyance when she mentioned Lily’s name, but Sirius could read his y/h/c friend like an open book. He noticed it.

“What now?” She frowned at him.

“Nothing, love. Nothing at all. Come, let’s sit by the Black Lake, shall we? It’s too much of a beautiful day to spend it locked indoors,” he winked knowingly at his friend whilst taking her by the hand, another plan taking form inside his mind.

——————————————————————

“Where are Padfoot and Y/N?” Remus asked no one in particular as he glanced around the Gryffindor table at lunch time.

“Haven’t seen them since Potions this morning,” Peter shrugged uninterested.

“They’re probably snogging somewhere,” James said bitterly, his eyes glued on his food.

Remus lifted a brow at James whilst Peter blinked his eyes in confusion.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Remus asked him with a furrowed expression.

“There’s nothing to read into it. I just meant what I said,” James shrugged, a grimace on his features as he looked at Remus and Peter.

“But Prongs...” Peter whispered as quietly as he could without being incomprehensible. “We know this between them is just for show.”

“Do we? Please, Wormy. You know Padfoot. We all do,” James said calmly. “It’s just a matter of time until they cross the line, assuming they haven’t already.”

“What if they have? It’s not like it’s any of our business,” Remus narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at the messy-haired boy.

“But it is!” James exclaimed exasperatedly. “Y/N is also our friend, why do I seem like I’m the only one who cares about her wellbeing?! Padfoot is smitten with Marlene, you know that Moony. Y/N is the one who’ll end up getting hurt amidst this craziness.”

“Y/N is a smart girl, Prongs. She’s not naive. I highly doubt she or Padfoot himself will do something as stupid as that,” Remus shrugged before taking a piece of turkey to his mouth.

James bit his tongue and returned his gaze to his nearly untouched plate. He really hoped both Y/N and Sirius were smart enough to prevent what could only be described as a catastrophe, at least in his eyes. Just the thought of his best female friend being hurt by Sirius’ reckless actions made him feel like punching something. Or, more accurately, someone.

A loud sound of giggles snapped James out of his thoughts and drove him to wander his eyes to the big doors that separated the Great from the Entrance Hall. Holding hands, Y/N and Sirius were all smiles as they entered the room and approached their table.

“You almost missed the meal,” Peter scolded them with a motherly tone.

“Worry not, my dear Wormtail! We already ate,” Sirius winked at him.

“How’s that possible? You’ve just arrived,” Remus lifted a brow at Sirius.

“We raided the kitchen,” Y/N shrugged as she took a seat next to Remus.

Sirius plunk down by Y/N’s side and wrapped her in his arms guilelessly, playing with a lock of her hair. Nothing different than his usual behavior — since he and Y/N were pretty close friends themselves — but enough to drive James off the edge.

“You alright there, mate?” Sirius asked him for the second time that day, looking even more amused then he did firstly.

James blinked at the sudden attention as his other three best friends stared at him inquisitively. He only then realized how tense his body was and the tight grip he had around his fork. His knuckles were white due to how much pressure he was putting into it. The Gryffindor boy relaxed with a couple of deep breaths before letting his fork rest by the side of his plate.

“Hey, Prongs!” Peter whispered excitedly, breaking the awkward silence that fell upon the usually-very-talkative Marauders. “Fourth person on your left... look who’s staring at you!”

James gladly allowed his focus to shift from Y/N and Sirius as he looked to where Peter had told him. He lifted his brows in surprise as he’s met by Lily’s eyes, a small and shy smile forming on her face as their eyes locked. James returned her smile, waiting for the butterflies to flutter his stomach as they always did whenever he used to have some kind of interaction with the redhead. But they didn’t come at all. Not this time.

“What the bloody hell is happening to me?” He thought to himself as he forced himself to hold Lily’s stare for what seemed like forever.

“Looks like someone is finally wooing the girl of their dreams,” Remus teased after James broke off the eye contact.

“It was about time! I don’t think I could stand another year of this pitiful chase, it was getting quite embarrassing mate,” Sirius joked, earning amused laughs from both Peter and Remus.

“Would you three stop already?” Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’m happy for you, Jamesy. Don’t mind them,” she reached for his hand across the table and gave it a light squeeze. A sweet smile on her lips.

James felt his stomach leaping like crazy inside of him at her touch. He furrowed his brows at the unknown feeling, his hand lingering on hers a while too longer.

——————————————————————

“You’re staring,” Remus pointed out without taking his eyes off his book.

“I’m not!” James denied quickly. “I’m just thinking about what to write on my essay.”

“Is your essay stamped on Y/N’s and Sirius’ faces?” The boy with chocolate eyes teased.

“Don’t you think they’re spending way too much time together?” James asked as he stared at Y/N and Sirius laughing together in a distant corner inside the Common Room. Y/N’s cheeks were flustered due to how hard Sirius was making her laugh.

“Meaning?” Remus’ attention was now solely on James as he studied his friend with a quirked eyebrow.

“Meaning they’ve got other friends outside each other, you know?!” James sounded a lot more harsh than he ever planned to.

The sound of Y/N’s laugh echoed in the room once more. She sounded like a 4-year-old laughing, it was absolutely adorable and completely contagious. James couldn’t help a small smile to spread across his face. He then caught himself wishing he could make her laugh like that. His face fell suddenly as he wondered why this thought would ever cross his mind.

“If it bothers you so much why don’t you just talk to her about it?” Remus shrugged, his focus back on his book.

James reflected on his friend’s advise for a short while until his vision got red again as Sirius trailed his fingers across Y/N’s back whilst whispering something into her ear. James closed his book with a loud bang, startling Remus and other few students who sat close to them.

“Where the bloody are you going?” Remus asked as his friend got on his feet and started gathering his things.

“Somewhere I can actually study,” James mumbled before moving in the direction of the portrait hole.

James wandered aimlessly through the castle, both his mind and heart racing and pounding with questions and emotions. Was he losing his mind? He didn’t know what was happening to him, why or how it started and neither how to make it stop. Y/N didn’t seem nearly as bothered at Sirius’ blatant advances, so he shouldn’t be either, right?!

As James’ feet stopped suddenly on their own, his surroundings came into focus once again and he caught himself staring back at him in a bathroom mirror. He rested his books on top of the nearest sink and took his glasses off, throwing a quick splash of water in his face and leaning over so he could rest his hands on the basin marble.

“What’s happening to me?” He mumbled to his own reflexion.

——————————————————————

“Gather around, kids!” Slughorn said proudly in front of a cauldron as the students started arriving for the Potions class.

Y/N, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter approached the Professor and peeked curiously into the cauldron content. A mother-of-pearl sheen liquid with a spiraling steam lied inside of it. Y/N shifted uncomfortably on her feet as she instantly recognized what the potion with such an unusual shine was.

“Oh...” Sirius whispered not so quietly into her ear with an annoying teasing tone, wrapping his arm on her shoulders.

“Oh Indeed, Mr. Black,” Slughorn grinned amusedly at the raven-haired boy. “Perhaps Miss Y/L/N could tell us what this potion is?”

“Amortentia, Sir. The most powerful love potion in the world. It causes a powerful infatuation or obsession from the drinker. It is distinctive for its mother-of-pearl sheen, and steam rises from the potion in spirals. It’s also known by its smelling properties. Amortentia smells different to each person, according to what — or should I say who — attracts them,” Y/N promptly answered the Professor’s question.

The room was dead silent as everyone stared at the cauldron with great interest after Y/N’s words. Especially the girls, whom all eyed the liquid furtively.

“Very good, Miss L/N! Ten points to Gryffindor!” Slughorn rumbled satisfied.

“That was hot,” Sirius joked, winking at Y/N.

James clenched his teeth as he stared at Sirius, feeling increasingly annoyed at the ever so blatant flirt and not hearing Slughorn asking for a volunteer to smell the potion in front of the entire class.

“Oh, Mr. Potter!” Slughorn exclaimed, dragging his attention back to the class. “Come here now, don’t be shy,” the teacher motioned for him to approach the cauldron.

Looking around, James realized the entire class stepped back and he was standing considerably afar from them. Gulping, the always-so-brave-and-carefree Gryffindor boy slowly started to walk to the cauldron, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Just go already, mate! We all know you’re gonna smell something Lily-related anyway!” Sirius shouted from behind him, earning laughs from almost the entire student body present at the class.

“I highly doubt he will,” Lily said out of the blue, making James stop suddenly on his feet and turn around to face her.

“What was that, love?” He quirked an eyebrow at her with a devilish smile. There was nothing that turned him on more than a challenge.

“I said you wouldn’t smell me. My bet is on something Quidditch-related. But I’ll tell you what, if you do smell anything that actually has something to do with me, I’ll let you take me out on a date,” Lily crossed her arms against her chest defiantly.

That was it, the moment James had been waiting for ever since he first laid his eyes on Lily. The moment he thought would be the happiest of his life. The moment that would leave him feeling over the moon of joy. But nothing of this happened. Sure, it felt satisfactory to finally achieve a long-term goal and finally convincing Lily, but that was it. Just it.

“Go on, Potter! We don’t have all day!” Someone among the Slytherin students shouted, clearly excited to see the outcome of the proposal.

James then walked to Slughorn and stood in front of the cauldron, facing his fellow Gryffindors and the Slytherin crowd.

“Now, Mr. Potter, close your eyes and take a deep breath,” Slughorn instructed as he stepped aside and left James and the cauldron all alone in the spotlight. “And then let us know what you smelled!”

James did exactly as Professor Slughorn had told him to. At first, nothing happened, and then, suddenly, a powerful wave of the most endearing and hypnotic smell enveloped him and raided all of his senses. The smell was an intoxicating mixture of patchouli, sandalwood and cranberry. His eyes widened open as he instantly recognized where he had already smelled this. It was her smell. Y/N’s signature smell.

James’ eyes searched the little crowd furiously until they landed on Y/N. She was inspecting her nails, weirdly quite interested. He wanted to shout so she could look at him. He wanted to lock eyes with her and tell her what he had just smelled. He wanted to run at her and sweep her off her feet, spin her around and tell her what had been in his heart unbeknownst to him this whole time. He now knew what was happening to him.

“Mr. Potter?” Slughorn’s voice alerted James that he and the entire class were waiting for his answer.

James nodded at the Professor and allowed his eyes to land on Y/N once again before finally answering him. However, what he witnessed made his stomach sink. Y/N was whispering something into Sirius’ ear and his left hand was clutched on her waist.

“So that’s why she wouldn’t look at me,” he thought bitterly at himself.

James’ eyes wandered to Lily, a sudden frustration invading him. The redhead looked at him expectantly, unlike Y/N, who was too immersed on Sirius to notice the longing looks he had been sending her way lately. Sighing, James made a stupid decision in the heat of the moment.

“I smell vanilla and lilies,” he announced to Slughorn, knowing very well Lily smelled like that.

When he turned around to face the class again, Y/N and Sirius were nowhere to be found. Lily on the other hand, was standing right where she was, blinking with a dumbfounded expression.

——————————————————————

“Please, Sirius, don’t make me go in there,” Y/N begged Sirius as they approached the Three Broomsticks. She knew exactly what she was going to witness once they went into the establishment.

“Come on now, Y/N! Marlene is going to be there with Alice, please?” He gave her his best puppy eyes as he implored.

“How long will we have to keep up with this?” She asked, pointing back and forth between the two of them.

“Until she admits she has the hots for me,” he winked at his best friend, who simply rolled her eyes at him.

When they entered the pub, their eyes instantly fell on the table where a certain couple was having their first date. Sirius squeezed Y/N’s hand as he noticed her gaze lingering on James’ back.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” She mumbled, pulling Sirius by the hand to a distant table where Remus, Peter, Alice and Marlene sat chatting happily.

“Finally! Where the two of you were?” Remus exclaimed as Y/N and Sirius approached them.

“We were a little... busy, Moony,” Sirius winked suggestively at his friends. “Seems like I’m simply irresistible to my sunshine here.”

Marlene rolled her eyes at them, clearly beyond annoyed at Y/N’s and Sirius’ presence.

“Y/N, tell me, how can you possibly tolerate him, darling?” Remus teased as he noticed Marlene’s annoyance and Sirius’ proud grin.

“I usually keep my lips on his for as long as I can so he can’t speak. That’s the key,” Y/N shrugged, getting into character.

Remus, Peter, Alice and even Marlene laughed at Sirius’ shocked expression at Y/N’s comeback. She forced herself to laugh as well even though she was feeling everything but joy right now.

Stealing a glance in James’ direction, their eyes locked for a while before he drove his attention back to Lily and Y/N felt the sudden need of fresh air.

“I have to use the loo. Be right back,” Y/N mumbled at her friends whilst getting up.

The chit-chat ceased quickly as three of the Marauders and the two girls observed the y/h/c girl shy away from them.

“So, how’s our plan going, babe?” Marlene asked excitedly to Sirius as soon as they couldn’t see Y/N anymore, linking her arm in his.

Before Sirius could say anything, Remus cut him off asking with a much shocked tone of voice: “What plan are you two talking about? Didn’t Marlene despised you like you told us when you’ve asked Y/N for help to make her jealous? Why is she calling you babe? What is going on here?”

“Hold your wolves, would ya Moony? We’ll explain everything,” Sirius grinned. “I did tell Y/N that but Marlene and I had already been sneaking around unbeknownst to general knowledge.”

“Was that supposed to enlighten me?” Remus quirked a brow at him.

“Let me explain, for Merlin’s sake!” Marlene lifted a hand in front of Sirius as he opened his mouth to start talking. “We were snogging in an empty classroom under James’ invisibility cloak this one time when he and Y/N suddenly sneaked in as they ran away from Filch-“

-

“Oh, Sirius,” Marlene mumbled pleasantly at the raven-haired boy who was brushing his lips against her neck teasingly.

“Do you like that?” He asked softly.

“Ye-Yeah,” she muttered in response amidst a heavy sigh.

The couple was suddenly startled as the classroom door clicked open and was quickly closed again with an explosion of giggles. They quickly parted as they stared confusedly at Y/N and James, whom were out of breath and leant against the dark and old rock-wall, hands clutched together.

“Merlin, did you see Filch’s face?” James asked with a laugh.

“I honestly thought he’d spit fire,” Y/N answered with a snore, her face completely flustered from all the running.

James stared at his friend in a comfort silent for quite some time, as if he was engraving her every feature in his mind. “Godric, you’re beautiful.”

Sirius gasped at his friend’s words. Marlene’s mouth fell open.

It was only when Y/N’s eyes widened that James realized he had said that out loud.

“I-I mean, you’re quite alright for a girl and everything, mate,” he added quickly, making even more of a fool out of himself.

“Yeah... thanks, mate,” Y/N answered with a furrowed expression. She was clearly embarrassed as well. “We should probably get going before Filch comes back. Where did you leave your bloody cloak anyway?”

“I’m not sure, I couldn’t find it anywhere. Sirius must’ve borrowed it,” he shrugged, opening the door and checking the outside surroundings for any sign of Filch. “Let’s go!” He grabbed Y/N by the hand and led her out of the classroom, closing the door behind them.

“Did he just say what I heard?” Sirius checked with Marlene just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating as he tossed the invisibility cloak on the floor.

“He actually did,” she answered, a little shocked herself. “Not that it was surprising in any way, I mean, it‘s quite obvious he has it bad for her, I just didn’t think he’d ever notice, he pinning after Lily and everything,” Marlene shrugged.

“I don’t think he reckoned his feelings just yet, James can be a bit of a thick-head sometimes.”

“A bit? And just sometimes? The lad has been chasing after the same girl - who wants nothing to do with him if I may add - for almost six whole years. He definitely is a big time thick-head,” Marlene quirked a brow at Sirius.

“You’re right...” he mumbled thoughtfully. “We have to do something, they’ve got too much pride to ever admit their feelings for each other.”

Marlene shot him a grin as the perfect idea crossed her mind, “have you told anyone about us?”

“Not yet.”

“Good, here’s what we’re going to do...” Marlene started to explain him how he’d tell everyone she didn’t want anything to do with him and then ask for Y/N’s help to make her jealous in front of all of his friends. She made sure to let him know he was supposed to flirt hard with Y/N when James was around.

-

“Did you really have to make the beginning so... graphic?” Alice asked with a grimace once Marlene had told them the entire story.

“Agreed!” Remus quirked his brows at the secret couple. “But I have to say, this idea was quite... clever.”

“It really was,” Peter nodded excitedly. “Padfoot definitely stroke a nerve by flirting with Y/N in front of Prongs.”

“And so did Lily by pretending she was finally interested in him,” Marlene smiled proudly at herself.

“Wait... what?” Sirius looked utterly shocked as he asked her.

“Yeah, sorry about that, but I thought it’d look more... realistic if you didn’t know that. You care about Y/N, you wouldn’t bare seeing her hurt without letting her know the truth,” Marlene shrugged at her boyfriend.

“Woman... you are the love of my life,” Sirius grinned devilishly at her, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles.

-

“That prick...” James mumbled at himself as he clenched his fists at the sight of Sirius flirting and touching Marlene. Didn’t he have no respect for Y/N? He literally just waited until she turned her back to be a complete prat.

“What?” A bored Lily asked.

James realized he had been staring at their friends table basically ever since Y/N and Sirius first showed up, leaving Lily hanging. But, truth be told, the date sucked even before that. He and Lily had zero chemistry, zero common ground, zero... everything. They definitely didn’t belong together.

“Look Evans...” he started after a heavy sigh, looking for the right words.

“This date sucks,” Lily completed as she shrugged in relief. “I know.”

“Well, I’d probably be way more gentle than that, but... that’s what I was trying to say,” he laughed.

“You didn’t smell vanilla and lilies when you inhaled Amortentia, did you?” She quirked a brow at him.

“No...” he furrowed apologetically. “I smelled patchouli, sandalwood and cranberry. As in-“

“Y/N’s artisanal perfume,” she cut him off with a smirk. “Why did you lie you idiot?”

“In my defense, I was gonna tell the truth but then... I saw her and Sirius flirting and, well, you know what I did,” he shrugged.

“Your stupidness never fails to amaze me, Potter,” Lily rolled her eyes at the hazel-eyed boy. “Sirius would never get himself involved with a girl his best mate fancied.”

“Please, he could never know I fancy Y/N,” he furrowed his brows in disbelief. “I’ve only realized it myself a couple days ago.”

“Potter, you oblivious daft, everyone knows you have it bad for her for ages and the other way around,” she rolled her eyes at him once again.

“Are you saying-“

“That the entire school already realized you both long for each other? Yes. Now, let’s go,” Lily stood up and motioned with her head for him to follow her.

“Where are we going?” He asked confused.

“You are going to tell Y/N what Amortentia really smelled like to you and I am going to watch it alongside all of our friends and tease the two of you later,” she said as if it was obvious whilst they crossed the pub.

-

“He admitted his feelings towards Y/N out loud,” Lily announced amused as they approached their friends, taking Y/N’s vacant seat.

“Bloody finally!” Sirius and Remus shouted in unison as they both lifted their glasses in mock celebration.

“I have to say I thought I’d have to kiss her in front of you so your blind self would finally realize your own damn feelings,” Sirius grinned amused at James.

“Please, this is Prongs we’re talking about! He’d probably punch you in the face and still not have a clue as to why he was so angry at the whole situation,” Remus teased with a smirk.

“Sod off, would you?” James flashed his middle finger at them, his eyes scanning the entire place. “Where’s Y/N?”

“She said she was going to use the loo, let me go look for her,” Alice answered James with an excited smile.

James stood there full of hope whilst Alice went looking for Y/N, his heart pounding against his chest and his hands sweating as he thought about finally telling her how he felt.

Alice reappeared again a few minutes later, but there was no sign of Y/N as she walked back to their table.

“She wasn’t there,” she told James, a furrowed expression on her face.

“Where the bloody hell can she possibly be?” Sirius asked with a confused look.

“The castle...” James mumbled at himself before taking off hurriedly.

Marlene stood up as quickly as she could and mentioned to run after James.

“What are you doing?” Sirius asked with a scrunched face.

“Well, I’m definitely not gonna miss the pathetic scene of him finally confessing his feelings to our Y/N, will you?” She quirked an eyebrow.

The little crowd exchanged looks among them before getting up recklessly and take off on James’ trail.

——————————————————————

“How do I do that? How do I tell her I have feelings for her after saying in front of the entire class I smelled lilies as I inhaled Amortentia?” James asked breathlessly as he stopped suddenly in front of the Fat Lady portrait, turning on his heels so he could face his friends.

“Preferable with your mouth, although I suppose you could use your hands as well, you know, to make it more... intimate,” Sirius suggested with a devilishly grin, winging his eyebrows.

“Merlin. I don’t even know what to say about... that,” Lily looked disgusted at Sirius, turning to James afterwards. “Just... do something meaningful for the both of you. Use something that the two of you have in common to make it special. I’m sure it’ll earn you extra points.”

“I’m with Evans on this one,” Remus shrugged. “Sorry, Padfoot.”

They kept throwing suggestions at him, but James wasn’t paying attention anymore. Lily’s words were hammering inside his head as he was thinking about what to do. And then, suddenly, as if it was magic, a brilliant idea popped inside his mind.

“Fat Lady, has Y/N came in already?” James asked the portrait that guarded the entrance to the Gryffindor tower.

“Yes, Potter, she came in a while ago in fact. She didn’t have the best of looks on her face if I may add, I’m assuming she went straight upstairs to her dormitory,” the portrait answered promptly, gladly giving away the juicy details in hopes to gossip a little bit.

“Perfect!” James grinned at the painting. “Thanks, love!” He shouted before running through the hallway.

“Should we follow him?” Peter asked Remus and Sirius.

“What if he comes back?” Sirius shrugged.

“I don’t think he will,” Lily smiled, realizing what he was about to do.

“Mind sharing the why?” Marlene quirked a brow at her.

“Think about it. What’s the one thing they both equally love fiercely?” Lily asked the little crowd with a grin. “Despite each other, of course.”

“Quidditch...” Remus answered slowly, realizing James’ intentions as well.

Before anyone could say anything, James came back and flew by them on his broom, a large grin on his face, “well? Are you lot coming or what?”

Taking off as fast as he could and with his friends on his trail, James flew around the hallways of the castle in the direction of the sloping lawns in the school grounds.

As James proceeded on his flying, he started to draw more and more curious students returning from the Hogsmeade trip, that way, by the time he had approached the exterior walls of the Gryffindor Tower, he had quite a crowd standing underneath him.

Touching the ground slightly, James gathered a few little pieces of rocks and hopped on his broom again, flying up until he reached the same level of the girls dorm’s window.

Before James could execute his plan, a loud shout from Minerva McGonagall startled him.

“James Potter, get off this broom immediately!”

Before James could answer and beg for her to let him do what he had come here to in the first place, the window cracked open. As his eyes shot in the direction of the sound, James spotted an utterly confused Y/N staring at him.

“James what the bloody hell are you doing?” She asked with a frown.

“Well, I was planning on throwing these rocks softly at your window until you opened them up, but I guess there’s no point in doing so now,” he shrugged, showing her the rocks he had clutched into his palm.

“And why would you do that?” She giggled at him, causing butterflies to flutter inside James’ stomach.

“Because I have something rather important to discuss with you, love,” he grinned.

“Why didn’t you just shout my name from the Common Room then, you mental?” She quirked her eyebrows.

“‘m afraid that wouldn’t be as nearly as romantic.”

“Romantic? What are you talking about?” She asked, a disrupted look on her face. “James, what’s going on here?”

“POTTER!” McGonagall shouted once again.

“Could you give a smitten boy a second to confess his feelings for Merlin’s sake, Minnie?” He shouted with a wink at the Professor.

“Well... I suppose I can,” she shrugged with a discreet side smirk. “And Potter?”

“Yes, Minnie?”

“Glad to see you finally build up the courage,” she smiled at the dumbfounded look the boy gave her.

Y/N was still staring at James in shock as he drove his attention back to her.

“So...” she said.

“I lied at the Potions class last week,” he said out of the blue, gliding trough the air.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I didn’t smell lilies or vanilla when I inhaled Amortentia.”

“And what did you smell?” Y/N asked and James could notice she was holding her breath back.

“Home,” the messy-haired boy answered with a gentle smile, his hazel eyes lingering on Y/N’s. “And it smelled like patchouli, sandalwood and cranberries.”

Slowly realizing he was describing her scents, Y/N’s cheeks heated up furiously as she stared at the boy she has been fancying for so long, her eyes widened in shock.

“James is this one of your jokes? If it is, I swear to Godric-“

“No, love. I’d never joke about something like that. I’d never do something like that to you,” he smiled gently. “I’m in love with you, madly in love with you. I have been for years. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that.”

“In that case, would you get off this broom already so I can kiss you?” Y/N said with a lovingly frown.

“Gladly!” James’ face lit up as he hurriedly closed the space between his broom and the window, hopping inside the girl’s dorm.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” Y/N shook her head with a smile.

“About you? Definitely!” James grabbed Y/N by her waist and crashed his lips into her, finally tasting what true happiness was like.

[dari-ede]

In the Middle of the Night: Chapter 7

Chapter 7: “Midnight into Morning Coffee”

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30

MASTERLIST

*****************

Summary: As Bangtan prepares for a new chapter in their lives, they head to their private property in the forest for a songwriting workshop. As a songwriter and producer they have worked with for years, I’m asked to tag along. I was ready for the heavy workload and small amount of sleep during the workshop week. However, I wasn’t ready for the storm that came that changed my friendship with Namjoon forever.

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Smut

Pairing: Idol!Namjoon x Female Reader

Rating: M (future sexual/explicit scenes)

Status: COMPLETE

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Night One-

The workshop that evening had gone well. No song had been created by the end of it, but it had worked as a good practice round for future ones. Despite the long drive and little sleep, everyone was invested and in full work mode. After a few hours of satisfied work, we ended the shop and decided on dinner.

Yoongi took lead in the kitchen once again and managed to cook something fast for us.

As we shared our meal and the guys talked amongst each other, I played a melody in my head. The melody had been on repeat since waking from my nap. Believing it was the key I needed to fix a gap in the song I was presenting tomorrow in the workshop, I felt the urge to head to the backhouse and work on it. However, I knew it would be rude if I didn't wait until after dinner. I finished as quickly, stating I wanted to work on the upcoming workshop. Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok all said they were going to do the same.

Yoongi was using their old trailer as his personal studio. He invited Hobi and Namjoon to join, but only Hobi took him up on his offer.

“I’m going to work out for a bit first,” Namjoon explained.

“I'll join you,” Jungkook said.

“Me too,” Jimin piggybacked.

“You guys just ate,” I pointed out with slight worry.

“It'll be light work. And we'll wait half an hour before we do,” Namjoon promised. He got and headed to the exit so he could head to the back house to put on his workout gear. I was right behind him.

Once we got to the house, I set up my station as Namjoon got ready.

“I'm feeling a bit tired. Hopefully, this workout wakes me up for a few hours so I can work,” Namjoon said as I finished setting up my workstation on our shared kitchen table. “Care to join me?” he asked with a teasing smile.

“I’ll pass,” I said, rolling out my keyboard and connecting it to my computer.

He left with a smile and I stared after him through the window. I did my best to not allow my eyes to linger on his ass for too long.

I shook my head and went to work on the song for tomorrow, trying to fix in the melody that had popped in my head earlier.

Thankfully, it didn't take long for my focus to be solely on this project. For almost two hours I worked on it on my keyboard, trying different chords to see what flowed well. I had been so engaged in the task that I didn’t realize Namjoon had arrived and set up shop on the kitchen island. He had even taken a shower; I could tell from the water dripping off his dark grey hair.

Seeing him sitting there on the island startled me a bit. “When did you get here?” I asked, trying to settle my heart rate.

“A bit ago. You were so focused, I didn’t want to interrupt.” He had his laptop, headphones, multiple notebooks, and an iPad in front of him.

As I looked at him, I noticed his attire. He had on joggers and a black, muscle t-shirt. That was it. There had been a few times I’d seen Namjoon’s bare arms, but it was rare, and the last time had been months ago. The guy just kept growing. I could see the outlines of his pecs from the t-shirt he was wearing, could see the sharpness of his collar bones, and the mountains that were now his biceps.

I took a sip of water, feeling my throat a little dry. “What are you working on?” I asked, looking down at my notes and away from him.

He explained some of the ideas he wanted to discuss in the workshop. He had printed out a few pages with literacy passages he felt might go well with the feel of the music. He had come up with some melodies and lyrics but was unsure what he wanted his main focus to be on.

I let him do most of the talking, knowing full well he sometimes needed to talk out an idea until he figured it all out himself. I knew this because we had written several songs together. Sure enough, after only two questions prompted by me, he had a full strategy for his song.

Looking satisfied, he wrote in his notebook and closed his laptop. He came over to the table and took a seat. It didn't pass me in noticing he chose not to seat in the closest chair to him—which would have been direct across from me—but had gone around the table to take the chair next to me.  “What are you working on?”

I took another sip of water as he leaned over and picked up one of the worksheets I had printed earlier.

I disconnected my headphones from the keyboard so I could use the speakers. “I've had this melody in my head most of the day. At first, I thought it would go well with the song I wrote for tomorrow's workshop, but now I have a feeling it's an entirely different song. I know I should focus on what I wrote for tomorrow, but I kind of want to chase this new song.”

“Play it, girl,” Namjoon encouraged as he placed his elbows on the counter, readying himself.

I looked away from his bulging upper arms and played the music. It started with the D6 chord, followed by Em7 and then G. Bm and Em7 and D. I repeated the set a few times before stopping. “That’s all I got.” I ran my hand through my hair and scratched my head, a thought creeping its way to my full consciousness.

“What seems off about it?” His voice was quiet, but I could clearly hear him.

I turned to him, not understanding. “What do you mean?”

He held my gaze. And like so many times before, I felt he was looking into my soul. “You tell me. Something about what you played isn’t sitting with you.”

“What makes you say that?” I hunched my shoulders, trying to hide as much of myself from him as I could.

“You scratch your head when something is bothering you—but it’s only when it comes to music. When it’s something that’s not music, you put your hair up in a bun. And if it’s already up, you take it down only to put it up all over again.”

I honestly didn't know how his words made me feel so naked. He saw so much of me when I thought I was doing a kick-ass job in hiding. He never used this gift of his against me; always said it so nonchalantly as if he was telling me I had something on my face—like it was no big deal he knew my private habits. At times it felt like he knew me better than anyone else in my life. And being the private person I was, it made me nervous that someone knew me in such detail. However, I was quickly reminded that this was one of Namjoon's many gifts. He had a tendency to read his members just as easily. There really wasn't anything special in the way he read me.

After reminding myself I wasn't special to Namjoon, I decided there was no point in telling him he was wrong about his observations. I let out my thoughts regarding the song. “It seems personal. It's not for someone else. I don’t think I want to give up this song.”

Namjoon’s face turned bright. “A song for yourself?”

I gave a slight nod.

He placed his big, warm hand around my shoulders and gave me a tight hug of excitement. “That’s awesome!”

He knew it had been a long time since I had created a song for myself. If I was being honest, I was feeling a little excited myself, but I didn’t want to get too ahead of myself. This song could lead to a dead end and stay in my folder as an unfinished project—like so many other countless songs.

“Do you have everything ready for tomorrow’s workshop?” he asked, his arm still around me.

I looked over the checklist I had made for myself. “As much as I can.”

“Then just work on this song.” He rubbed my arm softly and gave me another squeeze before pulling away.

A chill made its way through me, making me shiver.

He must have caught it. “You cold? Want some coffee?”

There was a sweater next to me that could help, but I could never turn down coffee.

“I’ll go make us some.” He got up from his seat and made his way to the door, exiting the house.

As soon as he left, goosebumps made their way across my arms. This time, it was for a different reason; I had the sudden thought the house was too dark and lonely. And quiet. I looked around the dimness of the kitchen and living room and felt uneasy. No more than two seconds later, I was dashing out of there and hurrying after Namjoon.

He stopped for me, having heard me bail out, and snickered. “You live by yourself, how are you afraid of being alone for a few minutes?”

Once I was at his side, he resumed walking. “That’s a house I’m familiar with,” I explained. “I don’t know the ghosts that live in that place.”

I could feel Namjoon rolling his eyes in the dark.

As we entered the main house, we were having a small banter about the belief in the afterlife. I wasn’t religious, hadn’t been since my 20s, but I liked to argue with Namjoon.

And he knew I liked to rile him up, but he always took the bait.

Tae, Jimin, Hobi, and Jin were in the living room, half hanging out, half working.

Namjoon turned to them. “Does anyone want to trade me rooms? She’s bound to drive me nuts by the end of this week.”

“Punishment is punishment,” Hobi pointed out.

“Weren't you working with Yoongi?” I asked, arriving at the kitchen.

He was about to answer me, but Jimin beat him to it. “Yoongi-hyung was being too quiet.”

Hobi laughed but didn't defend himself. “How are you driving Namjoonie nuts this time?”

“He doesn't believe in ghosts,” I said simply. “He's judging me because I do.”

Namjoon pretended to ignore me from the espresso maker.

“We all have our difference of opinions when it comes to religion,” Tae tried to rationalize, trying to be the peacemaker but also doing it sarcastically. He knew I was exaggerating.

“She doesn’t even believe the stuff she is arguing for,” Namjoon said with slight irritation.

I took some mugs and set them around the coffee maker. “No, but it’s annoying you.”

Namjoon just glared at me, unamused.

“Maya is the only one who can bug Namjoon this much,” Jin said, then went back to his notebook. “It’s fun to watch.”

For the next hour, most of us had coffee and hung out in the living room.

Yoongi and Jungkook joined when I sent them a message that coffee was ready. Yoongi had given up caffeine but took the decaffeinated one I made.

I was currently sitting on the couch with Tae and Jimin. Namjoon was sitting in front of me on the floor. The conversation was on tomorrow's workshop. It was getting past midnight, and no one seemed to be the slightest bit tired.

Jin had just finished making one of his cow puns—why was it always cows?

Only Yoongi and I were the ones left with straight faces.

Jin caught on and began scolding the two of us for not having a sense of humor.

“It wasn’t funny,” Yoongi stated, looking at Jin as if he was crazy to think it had been a good joke. “Do you want me to lie to you?”

“Yes, it would boost my self-esteem,” Jin said with a straight face.

“Oh, yes because you’re lacking in that department,” I said sarcastically.

He dismissed my comment. “Ok, I got another good one.”

I dramatically rolled my eyes at him. “You are so bad at these—god help your future children.”

He gave me the question and didn’t even wait for me to give an answer before he started to laugh at his upcoming joke.

“You haven’t even said the pun yet. How are you already laughing?” I teased.

Jin gathered up some composure and pretended to be outraged. “Ah! Maya, why are you always so mean to me?”

“Why are you calling me out? Yoongi isn’t laughing either.”

We went on bickering back and forth for another good minute before Jin turned on Yoongi. Then, it was the pair of them going at it as the rest of us laughed.

I noticed Namjoon rolling his right shoulder and then moving his neck back and forth. Since I’d known him, he had an issue with his right shoulder—something to do with an accident from back when he was a kid.

Instinctively, I reached over and put my palms on his shoulders.

He stayed still and let out a small sigh once the bottom of my palms began to rub his shoulder blades. His neck hung, allowing himself a good massage. I pushed my body forward and pulled his upper body closer to mine. He got the hint and backed up closer to me.

I straightened my arm as my fingers did circular motions on his right shoulder. I found a couple of knots and focused on them. His muscle shirt was making it easier for my fingers to move freely up and down his upper back. Once the knots had gone, I focused on his neck, where I could feel tension.

I placed my legs a little more comfortably on either side of his body. I then wrapped my arm fully around his upper chest for leverage. He let me push down his neck as I worked on the back of it. He let out a few moans and voiced compliments toward me.

“How’s your head feel?” My mouth was level with his ear, so I didn’t really speak up much.

He replied with a deeper moan.

I sat a little straighter and pulled his neck straight up, my fingers then slid through his short, dark, grey hair in circular motions. His heavy head then fell backward, my chest catching it. I kept him there as my hands went to massage his shoulders again.

He was doing a lot again. His visit to the UN, the upcoming concerts, and the workshops were working him to the bone. And I’m pretty sure this “rough patch” Yoongi had mentioned was adding to the stress. He loved his job but his body needed a breather.

His face looked so serene as if he was dreaming. “I could stay here forever,” he mumbled.

I scoffed. “I’d have to charge you.” He was so close; that I didn’t have to speak up.

This only made him snuggle closer. “I’ll give you all my money right now.”

No more than two seconds later, those chocolate-brown irises of his sluggishly opened and looked so intensely into mine.

“Your laugh is cute,” he whispered.

Had I been laughing? I felt my cheeks get a little warm. “I snort when I laugh.”

“That’s what makes it cute.”

I was so close to Namjoon’s face that I could see the lines on his forehead clearly. I was reminded of the years that had passed since we first met. Back then, Namjoon had some baby fat on his cheeks, but the plump features had left him, being replaced by fine lines. I knew he wasn’t the ideal handsome type by Korean or world standards, but to me—at this very moment—I don’t think I had ever seen a man look more handsome.

“There is an empty house behind us for you guys to have some lovey-dovey time.” The voice made us both pull away from each other.

I looked up to find the guys looking at us with teasing smiles. I wasn’t sure who had interrupted us, but it didn’t matter. They all looked to share the same sentiment.

I pulled myself up on my seat, feeling some embarrassment for the way things might have looked between me and Namjoon. But Namjoon stayed where he was at. He slouched a little and lifted his arm to place it above my thigh. Both my legs were still on either side of him.

I didn’t understand why I stiffened as he got into a more comfortable position. We had sat together like this before. Why was it feeling so awkward with him all of a sudden?

I tried not to allow my thoughts to drag me away from the guys. I didn’t want to make it awkward for anyone—including myself—so I pretended to listen in on their conversation.

I heard bits and pieces of it. They discussed their upcoming concert, the next album, and what we were going to eat tomorrow. But my mind was too focused on Namjoon. My feelings for him were intensifying. I wasn’t able to ignore my attraction to him like I used to.

The guys caught on to my silence.

“Mai-Mai, what is it?” asked Hobi.

I looked up and found five pairs of brown eyes on me. When had Yoongi and Jungkook left?

I made some excuse that I was thinking about needing to get work done. I checked the time and saw it was past midnight. I said my goodnight to the guys and headed to the backhouse.

Once I was sitting down at the dining table, I decided to focus on the sample music I was going to be using at the morning’s workshop. Music always settled me.

I played the workshop music on my keyboard with the speakers at full volume. As I played the guys' song, the new chords I had crafted earlier kept coming up. My fingers felt an urge to play them.

After working for a good twenty minutes, the backdoor opened and Namjoon stepped into the house. “Why not work on your song?” he asked as I continued playing.

I waved it off. “It’s ok. I really should focus on this.”

He made his way to his station on the island. “You got the itch, Maya. Chase it.”

I knew what he meant. There were always those songs that caught your full attention and wouldn’t leave your mind alone until they were complete. This song felt like one of those.

Namjoon put on his headphones, put on his glasses, gave me a smile and wink of encouragement, and started to work on his own.

I took his advice. I put on my headphones to not disturb his own work.

Surprisingly, the chords came rather easily, but I was getting annoyed by hearing the music only in my ears. The music called for this to be louder. I got Namjoon’s attention. “Is it alright if I leave the headphones off? I kind of want to hear it fill the room.”

Namjoon nodded. “Yeah, I have my headphones on anyways. Go ahead.”

“Thanks.” I took off my headphones and put the speaker on full blast. I wished there had been a piano on the property. An actual piano. The keyboard just didn’t hold the same feel under my fingers.

I played what I had created and allowed my fingers and intuition to take over. For the next half hour, I found the notes that flowed well together. I played it over and over, a feeling of familiarity coating me. Had I written this song before?

After a few seconds of no longer playing, I heard a deep voice. “That was beautiful.”

I honestly had forgotten Namjoon was present. I was so lost in the song that I thought I had been in my apartment rather than this old house.

Namjoon’s headphones were hanging around his neck and staring at the keyboard in front of me, a puzzling look on his face. “Almost sounds like something you would hear at a wedding.”

That’s when I knew why the song sounded familiar. I had created a melody similar to this song years ago.

I didn’t say anything, but Namjoon caught onto my enthusiasm by my facial expression. “What?”

I immediately went into my files to find the song. Thankfully, I recorded everything and kept it all organized. It didn’t take me long to find the file.

Namjoon was waiting for me patiently. “Found something to go with the music?”

I nodded as I opened the file and hit play. My voice came out of the speaker that had a melody with a faster pace than the piano piece I had written.

“Don’t want to feel weak in love, give up control. I’m never gonna let down my guard, be vulnerable. Don’t want to feel helpless or be too comfortable. I’ll make it on my own.”

My voice sounded too rough for the softness of the piano and, again, the melody was too fast for it, but it was all in the same key as the music I had created. Plus, the emotions and words felt right for the music.

I uploaded the lyrics to the song and thought of how I could change them to fit together.

Namjoon had the same idea as I did. “Slowing down the tempo could work. What are the lyrics again?” He asked as he pushed his glasses up his nose. He looked super adorable. Almost like a nerd.

I repeated the lyrics back to him. He thought for a moment as I hummed the lyrics again. I played the piano music and worked on the lyrics I had for the other song. It didn’t take long to find the right formula to mesh both creations. I did a quick, rough recording of it and played it back.

“That works,” Namjoon nodded in approval. “How did what I say about this being a wedding song make you think of those lyrics?” he asked curiously.

“I wrote those lyrics after Jerry and I broke up,” I said easily.

Jerry and I had been together for two years. He had been my last serious relationship—the only happy and positive one I had. But, in the end, we wanted two different things. Everyone I knew didn’t understand why it hadn’t worked between us. And as much as they asked, I was too private to share why we broke up.

“Oh,” Namjoon said simply. He had asked about my breakup with Jerry right after it happened. I hadn’t given a sincere answer and Namjoon was too respectful to pry, so he had never asked again.

This time, though, I felt compelled to finally give Namjoon the full story. “He proposed to me.”

Namjoon’s eyes went wide with shock. “For real? When?”

“It was right after Ana’s wedding. We got back to the hotel that night and he proposed. Big, diamond ring and everything.”

“You hate diamonds,” he said quickly, with a confused look on his face.

It felt nice to know at least my best friend remembered. “I think he forgot.”

Namjoon shook his head to the side, in a 'that sucks' kind of way. “How bad was it?”

I tried to think back to the exact words I had used that night. “Well, seeing that the first words that came out of my mouth right after he popped the question were: ‘This wedding is not making you think straight', I will say it was kind ofbad.”

“Maya….” His tone had a hint of reprimand and disappointment in it.

I groaned at recalling my bad behavior. “I know, it was not the best thing to have said. That, of course, led to a big argument. Found out we wanted two very different things. We had never really discussed the future, which is why the proposal was so out of the blue. We broke up that night.”

After a moment of silence, Namjoon asked softly, “Do you mind if I ask a personal question?”

“Sure,” I said without hesitancy.

He looked to think about the right words to use before he spoke up. “I thought after that breakup—because you appeared to be content and happy with him—that it was going to inspire all these songs. But the whole reason you came to Korea was that you said you had no inspiration for your music. You honestly didn’t get any songs out of that breakup or relationship?”

I nodded. “These lyrics are the only ones I wrote about our breakup. I don’t even think I wrote a full song during our relationship that was about him. Yeah, he inspired a few lyrics and maybe some melodies. But never a full song.”

“Why did you say no? Didn't you love him?” He was very direct.

I thought about it for a moment, even though I knew the answer. “Yes. But not enough to marry. He was kind, a hard worker, got along with my family, smart, successful…and the sex was really good,” I said with a laugh. I felt the need to lighten this heavy conversation.

It worked because I heard a deep chuckle from Namjoon.

“How about you, Namjoonie? Did you love your ex enough to want to get married?” It’s not that I didn’t want to talk about Jerry anymore, it’s that this was a genuine question I had wanted to know about my best friend. And for whatever reason, I had never asked until now.

He nodded. “I did love her. A lot” He didn’t look up at me but kept his eyes on the ground. Almost looking shy.

This made me feel happy. Love was such a beautiful feeling. I wanted everyone I cared for to experience it.

“What happened?” I asked. We had never really talked about his breakup.

He took a breath, still avoiding eye contact. “It was far too complicated. When it was great, it was great. But then when we were at our lowest, it seemed like the world was going to end—too dramatic. We had that attitude that 'love will save it all' kind of way. I was too naive to see that it takes more than love to make things work.” There was a slight sadness in his eyes, but there was a heavy amount of serenity—he held no regrets. “In the end, we started becoming different people. Our goals were no longer the same. It ended when it needed to end.”

“How long were you guys together for?” I asked, not remembering.

“Four years.” It was half the time he had been in Bangtan.

Another question popped in my head, but my stomach kept me from speaking it out loud.

“What?” Namjoon asked, clearly reading me like he always seemed to.

I couldn't not ask now. “Do you miss her?”

Namjoon took a breath and appeared to think about his answer.

I don't know why my stomach felt as bad as it did, seeing his reaction. I tossed it to the stupid, idiotic crush I was trying to move past.

“Not her, necessarily. I miss being able to feel good about myself.” He shook his head and made a look of slight disgust. “It's going to sound bad, but I don't see any other way of wording it. But, being with her made me feel like I was good enough. Before her, I always had this sense of almost worthlessness. Being in Bangtan has given me confidence in music, but she gave me confidence in something else.” His eyes looked sad and my heart squeezed for him. “Like I said, when it was good, it was great. During our great moments, I felt on top of the world. And that's what I miss. I miss the love. And I don't think I'm going to have it again.”

This threw me off. “What would make you say that?”

Behind the frames, Namjoon's warm, sad eyes looked straight into mine. “I'm too well known. I'd have to find a girl that knows nothing about me to think she's actually interested in me. Most would probably be with me for the status.”

Namjoon's insecurities and self-loathing would swim onto the surface every once in a while. He usually was good at keeping it down himself, but there were times one of his loved ones had to try to drown it themselves. It was my turn this time. “Believe me, most girls interested in you would be genuine. I say 'most', because there's always crazy bitches out there.”

“Again, that's because of who I am. If I wasn't part of Bangtan, no girl would give me the time of day. I'd be too ugly for them. They would think I was too long and slim to be considered good-looking.”

“Is that why you got all bulked up?” I asked, curiously.

“I think that was the inspiration behind it,” he answered honestly. “But the more I worked out, the more I found I enjoyed it. Feels good. Plus, I can now eat more since it helps me build muscle.”

“I can never understand you guys,” I said. “All of you except for Taehyung and Hobi. I know you love your food but my dislike towards working out is greater than my love for food. I think that’s why I prefer to eat healthy and box or bike rather than exercise.”

Namjoon shook his head, disagreeing with how I viewed food and exercise. “My love for food led me to enjoy exercising.”

We were quiet for a moment, allowing our newly discovered facts about each other to sink in. I liked how almost every day I learned something new about him.

“You were handsome before you bulked up, Moni.” It wasn’t often that I used this nickname with him. His old nickname I only used when I was feeling extra sentimental with him. And then, I have no idea what possessed me to say it, but I admitted something that I never thought I would. “I actually had a crush on you back then. I thought you were really good-looking.”

He looked shocked and confused.

It was because of his reaction that I didn't regret being honest with him. He needed to know. Needed to realize that he wasn't the ugly duckling he thought he was. “You’re pretty hot now, but you didn’t have to bulk up. I always thought you were handsome.”

Still looking shocked, he began to speak, “You thought of me as a kid back then. You treated me like one.”

He was right. Upon first meeting them, I treated them like boys. It was the reason why it took many of us a long time to form a genuine friendship. The guys took issue with the way I addressed them—as if they were all teenagers. The maknae line enjoyed it mostly, but Namjoon, Yoongi, Hobi, and Jin made remarks on my treatment of them. In the beginning, it was what kept us from having a full, honest friendship. Due to our different cultures, we both acted in ways that prevented us from being close.

Over the years, I changed my demeanor with them. I still babied Jungkook, Tae, and Jimin occasionally, but I learned to speak to the others on a more equal level. As the eldest, I was the one who insisted on the use of banmal when we were alone. The maknae line didn’t take long to convince, and my friendship with Hobi had naturally gotten to that point after a couple of years. Yoongi didn’t take long to convince. But it had been Namjoon who kept up the boundaries for a lot longer. Out of all the members, it was Namjoon who was the most straight-edge and conservative when it came to manners—at least with me.

“May I remind you that you’re the one who refused to drop honorifics when speaking to me? It took you years to finally drop the noona with me,” I accused.

“Jungkook, Jimin, and Tae still call you noona,” he threw back.

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

“They’re like my baby brothers.”

“So the rest of us aren’t your brothers?” he asked with a teasing tone.

“Jin and I are the same age, so he's always been like a normal brother to me—except when he acts like a child, then he's more of a younger, annoying little brother. Yoongi and Hobi are like my older brothers,” I said the phrase in English. “It never felt right when they called me noona.”

“What about me?” he asked. “Did you ever think of me as your brother?”

I could feel my face scrunching up in disgust at the thought. “Not at all.”

There was a slightly hurt look on his face. “You didn’t think of me as part of your family?”

“I always thought of you different than the others,” I said simply.

Before he could actually get upset from my words—and not just pretending he was—I began explaining myself, “What I talk to you about, I would never be able to tell the other guys. Not even my actual brothers. There are things that I don’t even share with them.”

This didn’t seem to make things better. “So, I’m one of your girlfriends?”

The thought of it made me giggle. “Definitely not a girlfriend. Believe me, I’m well aware you’re male.” My eyes automatically went to his muscular arms.

“Then what am I?” he repeated.

I smiled widely at him and made my way over to him. “My best friend. I can tell you everything. I can hang out with you all the time and not get bored. You’re the person I know won’t think of me as uncool when I analyze a book or a movie or a character. You don’t poke fun at my journaling. You challenge me and take me out of my comfort zone. You’re the reason why I like going to museums now and exhibits. I touch amphibians now because of you. I get excited about bike rides. How sad is that?”

He gave me a shy smile.

I walked over to him, glad that he wasn’t bothered with me anymore, even if it had only been for a moment. “You still mad?”

He looked taken aback. “I didn’t get mad.”

“Good. I don’t like the idea of you being mad at me,” I said, feeling the corners of my mouth rising. I leaned over and poked his side.

He pretended as if I had hurt him.

I did it again.

He dodged me and took hold of my hand before I could poke him a third time. “Your giggle is cute.”

I hadn’t noticed I had giggled, but I smacked him with some force. “Don’t call me cute. Makes me think I'm a puppy.”

“But you are cute,” he held both my hands away from him.

I pretended to struggle to get out of his hold. “So, I call you hot and all you got for me is cute? That’s not fair.” I managed to free one hand and slapped his leg.

He was still sitting on the stool. He managed to take hold of both my wrists in just one of his big hands. With the other, he pulled me against his chest and used his legs to wrap around my own legs to keep me still. I was now looking into his chocolate browns. “I also think you’re hot,” his volume was low, but due to my proximity to him, I heard him clearly.

I felt as if I was on one of my bike rides with him, my pulse was picking up. “Liar.”

He pulled me a little closer and dismissed my words. “Especially when you braid your hair because the next day you let it down and your curls make you look pretty fucking sexy.”

“Sexy?” I could feel the warmth on my cheeks now. I knew he was playing with me, but I couldn't help but hope he was being honest. It felt good to know I was attractive to him.

This fucking crush was definitely out of control now. Here I was allowing myself to fantasize.

He stopped manhandling me. His hands were holding my own and his thighs rested along my hips, no longer wrapped around me. I was now leaning onto him of my own volition. And the woodsy scent coming off of him filled my senses.

There was a sharpening and intense look in his eyes. Even with the spectacles on, his eyes drew me in. His monolids were low as his dark irises looked intently into mine. The shape of his eyes reminded me of a dragon's, one getting ready to strike. “Very sexy. And then when you wear yellow or purple…nothing about you is cute anymore.”

Looking into this predator's stare felt too intimidating, my eyes pulled away. But as they made their way down, his full lips filled my view. A smirk danced on them and I felt a need to lean further in.

But the sound of an alarm snapped me back to reality. I jumped back, startled and feeling embarrassed.

I heard a low grunt come from him when I stepped away. I walked to my phone, turning off my alarm. I had set up a reminder to be in bed by 3 AM. I had to slightly tug my hands from Namjoon’s and walked over to my phone.

I took some deep breaths as I turned off my alarm. The distance between us was making me think a little clearer. “I should really head to bed.”

I didn’t wait for him to answer as I closed my laptop and cleaned up a little. The workshop tomorrow was going to be held here anyway, so I didn’t have to disassemble anything.

“I should get some sleep too,” Namjoon said as he also tidied up.

After we cleared things up in dead silence, we made our way up the stairs.

When we reached my room, I mumbled a quick “Good night.” I made a step to my room.

However, Namjoon had other plans. We usually hugged goodbye at the end of the night after hanging out. But because we were going to see each other again in a few hours, I hadn’t thought about hugging him. I mean, we hadn't hugged that night I had slept over at the dorms. He, on the other hand, wanted to continue our ritual.

He was so smooth I didn’t notice him leaning over to wrap his arm around my back until I was in his cozy embrace. I tried to lift my hand and wrap my arms around him, but I was too in shock to move.

“Night.” His voice almost sounded one with the night, so calm and still.

I felt his full lips brush against my forehead, leaving a feeling of warmth behind.

In all our years of being friends, we had only kissed a handful of times. And it had always been on top of the head, where there was plenty of hair in the way of us feeling lips against flesh. I should be questioning why he was kissing me on the forehead right now, but instead, I was wondering if he was going to wrap his other arm around me and pull me closer. Maybe lean down more to place those lips against mine.

But, as quickly as I had found his warmth against me, I found it cold as he stepped back. Even in the darkness, I saw the smirk on his face. The light glistering from the window allowed me to see the wink he gave me behind his glasses right before he went into his room and close the door.

I took a few steps back into my own room and shut the door behind me, completely baffled by what had just occurred.

Had he just put the moves on me?

That smirk, the hug, the wink…. I had seen Namjoon interact with other girls before. I could tell when he was interested and working up the courage to ask a girl out. His whole persona had felt and looked like that.

Was Kim Namjoon into me??

MASTERLIST

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30

[underrated-love]

Table Eight

Type | Angst to fluff

Characters | Timeskip!Fukunaga x gn reader

Warnings | none really? mentions of getting stood up? Timeskip spoilers

Summary |  You get stood up on a date, but don’t worry, there’s a cute chef there to cheer you up

Words | 1.5k

A/N | Ooh by I was rushing to get this finished in time for his birthday :’) The best boy who deserves so much more content, and I will solely provide it if I have to. Considering he's a comedian now, I think he would probably talk a bit more then he used to

Hmm I’ve been working on this on and off for a while, trying to get it right, but it just didn’t come out the way I wanted? I definitely like it, but it could've been better, ya know?

<<—>>—<<—>>

You watched as the time on your phone ticked over, signifying that you'd been here for over an hour. Sighing, you clicked onto your messages. Nothing new, no reply to the text you'd sent to the guy you were supposed to be meeting up with.

He stood you up. Things were going so well between the two of you in the beginning, but the moment you wanted to meet everything seemed to go downhill. Honestly, you should've expected this; he would take hours to reply, and when he did it was never more than a few texts.

Bringing your hands to your face you sat there for a moment, contemplating your options. You could go home, but you’d have to wait for your friend to pick you up, seeing as you’d walked here; and there was no way you'd be walking back alone at almost 9 pm. That meant that you would have to wait at this restaurant even longer, and you hadn't even ordered anything.

As if on cue, your stomach rumbled, startling you more than you would admit. Bringing up your phone once again, you blocked his number and texted your friend, telling them that things didn't work out and you needed a ride. You set your phone down on the table, feeling it tilt as you shifted your weight, polished wood creaking under you. This diner wasn’t the most sophisticated place someone would usually go for a first date, but considering your current predicament, your choice seemed perfect.

It wasn't your fault he stood you up, you knew that, but that doesn't take away the way it hurt. Maybe you could have avoided this, if only you had predicted it...

Snatching the menu from where it had been sitting on the table all night, you just stared at it, eyes glossing over the words. At least you could make it seem like you were going to order. It probably only took a minute or two, but it felt like much longer, before someone was clearing their throat near you.

“Are uh, you okay? You’ve been sitting here for quite a while.” It was one of the servers, holding a pitcher of water in one hand, and a notepad in the other. “Can I get you anything?”

Glancing over the menu one last time, you didn’t look him in the eyes, knowing you would break down. Instead, you focused on his short hair, the lighting above you turning the brown a more pinkish colour. “Just get me whatever the chef would recommend.”

He gave you a quick nod, scribbled something on his notepad and left to take other patrons’ orders, never mind that you were one of the only people in the diner.

Eleven minutes later—you had been counting, someone you could only assume was the chef stepped from the kitchen. With both hands, he held a plate of food you couldn't recognize. He looked over the diner, presumably searching for your table number, number eight. The chefs’ hat he wore shifted as he turned, strands of dark hair peeking out from under it.

Helping him out a little you shifted your table number toward the center where he would be able to see it better. It didn't take him long to see you, considering there were even fewer people than before. He set your food down in front of you and you were finally able to get a good look at it. It was some sort of orange rice dish mixed with seafood.

“Oh thank you, and uh, I don’t mean to be rude but what is this?”

“Paella, a specialty of mine,” he supplied with a small smile, “it’s great with a little extra seasoning.”

Reaching for the salt you thanked him for the food, it really did look delicious. “And how much is this gonna come to? I should make sure I have enough money beforehand.”

“It’s on the house, you look like you’ve had a night peppered with disappointments,” he said, a chuckle escaping him as he slid the pepper shaker over to you. “Well I better get back to the kitchen, hopefully the rest of your night goes well.”

You watched as he walked back to the kitchen, stopping halfway to answer a question from a customer. He looked back at you after he opened the door to the kitchen, throwing you a quick thumbs-up, then he was gone.

You couldn't deny that he was cute, but the fact that he made a pun was like the icing on the top of a cake. You don't know when you had started smiling, but you definitely didn't stop until the sound of his voice left your head. 

The paella was amazing. Cooked perfectly—and thanks to his advice, the right amount of seasoning. You’d have to thank him the next time you saw him.

Checking your phone, you read the text from your friend saying they would arrive in just over ten minutes. You yawned, glancing at the time. 9:16 pm. Resting your head and arms on the table, you figured you could rest until your friend got here.

Once again, the sound of someone clearing their throat caught your attention. It was the pink-haired server from before, whose nametag read Hanamaki. He gestured to your empty plate, leaning to pick it up, “Are you done with this? Looks like you enjoyed it.”

“Yeah I'm done, it was really good. But are you sure I don't have to pay? I’d feel bad just eating it like that,” you reached to grab your wallet, fully ready to pay whatever it cost.

“Nah it’s fine.” He brushed you off, wiping down your table with a cloth, “could you pass me the table number?”

You grabbed the small card, looking at the number before handing it to him, “Well thank you, I really appreci-eight it.”

He stopped, a look that you could only describe as a mix between disappointment and fighting off a smile adorning his face as he shook his head at you. Somewhere behind you came a familiar chuckle, then the cute chef appeared next to you, no longer with his hat or apron, but a bag slung over his shoulder.

Hanamaki sighed lightheartedly, turning to his chef co-worker, “Alright, two joke-makers is enough for me, could you close up, Fukunaga?” He asked, already walking away.

The chef, Fukunaga apparently, nodded to him and slid into the chair across from you. 

“Wait, close up? I didn’t realize I’ve been here so long, I’m so sorry, I was just waiting on my friend to pick me up. I can leave if you want?” You offered, scrambling to grab your belongings. 

He dismissed you with a small shake of his head, “It’s fine, I’ve got some time to kill anyway. Wanna tell me what's been bothering you all night?”

“No, no, I don’t want to bother you with my troubles,” you started, but the look on his face told you he didn’t mind listening to you ramble. “Hmm, well, if you insist,” and you told him about the night you’ve had. The guy that stood you up, having to wait for your friend to pick you up, the amazing paella he cooked for you.

At this point, you were thankful your date hadn't shown up; if he did you probably would have ignored him in favor of your cute chef anyway.

In turn, Fukunaga told you a bit about himself, although in fewer words than you had used. He told you about his part-time job here as a chef, mainly because being a comedian doesn't pay as well as it should, and how he was heading somewhere after he closed up to perform one of his comedy acts.

“So you’re a comedian? That explains the love for puns! Maybe I could come to one of your shows sometime?” You were half-joking, but the way Fukunaga sat up a little straighter at your suggestion meant he liked the idea anyway.

Your phone buzzed beside you. Once. Twice. On the third buzz, you finally tore yourself away from the conversation you were invested in. They were texts from your friend, letting you know they were here, and you should hurry up and get in the car.

Finally standing up to leave, you thanked Fukunaga one last time for the paella, and once more for waiting with you when he could’ve closed up. “I’ll be sure to come here more often, and next time I had better get to hear more of your jokes.”

He held the door open for you with his shoulder as you walked out, giving you two thumbs up, “I’ll be sure to reserve table eight for you.” He paused looking away for a second, “I got no puns for that one. But I’ll be looking forward to it.” 

The second you stepped into the car, your friend bombarded you with questions, but one stood out more than the rest, “Why do you look so happy? I thought that guy stood you up?”

“Oh yeah, he absolutely did. But that might’ve been one of the best nights I’ve had.”

<<—>>—<<—>>

Navigation | Masterlist | Rules, Requests and DNI

[danielxricciardo]

for the song prompt list #38 with max please 🥺

Summary: One sided love with Max Verstappen

Warnings: angst, swearing

Word count: 2.7k

38. “You wouldn’t know love if it crushed your fucking chest.”

One-sided love is like waiting for something that is never going to happen. It is like looking into those eyes that will never look back into yours. It is like having someone in your heart but not in your arms. It is suffocating. It starts eating you from inside.

It starts from the moment you meet them. The eye contact that chills your spine, the butterflies somersaulting in your stomach, just the mere thought of them sends goosebumps all over your skin. Your eyes wander and you can't concentrate whenever they're around; despite feeling a little embarrassed for approaching them, you do so anyway and exchange numbers in the hope that at least a friendship will develop. I mean, they're cool, you're cool, you should hang out or something. Or whatever.

It becomes harder to remain nonchalant. Your moderate interest in this person turns into the non-stop checking of your phone to see if they've contacted you... absolute elation when they do, and utter, utter despair when they don't. But you keep telling yourself that it's cool, you don't even know them that well, and they probably don't even want to know you (otherwise they would be making an effort by now, right?).

They text you something vague and impersonal every once in a while, and this is enough to send your heart soaring into the sky. You respond straight away, and they don't. And as this continues, your self-esteem begins to drop, and you question everything.

Why aren't they contacting me? I expect they're just busy. Or is it me? Are three texts in a row too much? I don't wanna seem stalkerish... but I don't want to look like I don't care about them. Am I too fat? Would they prefer me if I lost weight, or had a car, or my own place? Probably. Why am I thinking about them? They'd never think about me like this.

It hurts, from the pit of your stomach to the backs of your eyes. You can't concentrate on anything. You forego activities with friends and family, to keep yourself available for this person just in case they want to meet up with you. You feel sick every day, your appetite drops, your enthusiasm for everything decreases, and you are left with the most bitter, raging emptiness you've ever felt in your whole life. And it's all your fault.

Despite the pain it causes you, you carry on quietly pursuing this person. You silently scream to yourself 'THEY'RE OUT OF MY LEAGUE! THEY WILL NEVER EVER WANT TO BE WITH ME! DON'T THINK ABOUT THEM!' but it's so overwhelming to hear yourself saying it that you try and ignore the voice of reason inside your head. Because right now, your heart is taking control, and there's nothing you can do about it.

You wish they were a part of you, that they could give you a chance, to let you be the best partner that you could possibly be. You wish you could hold them, and talk to them, and kiss them, and sleep beside them, and protect them... but you can't.

The reason you put yourself through all this pain, is a simple fact that you love this person so, so much. And even though the rational side of you is telling you to give up, a small, pathetic part of you says 'They might care about you one day...'

It hurts. Hurts real bad.

True Love doesn’t hurt. Expectations, possessiveness, insecurity, jealousy, and emotions do.

Memories don't hurt. Love doesn't hurt. It is the attachment that hurts. It is the expectation that hurts. It is the imagined future that is now broken that hurts.

Unrequited love hurts the most. You will love someone no matter what they have done to you and that someone may not love you back no matter what you do. That hurts. Those expectations hurt.

To love is always selfless and that feeling is always unconditional. Love is always unconditional. It may sting seeing him with someone else, but you will be happy for him for their happiness is more important to you when you truly love them.

When we lose someone that we love so truly and they walk out of your life for some reason, it hurts. This doesn't mean memories will haunt us. It is the collapsed future that hurts us. Living in the past with the ones we love brings us tears, not because that is lost, but because there was something that could have been forever, but it isn't now. That hurts. That stings and we tend to associate it with good memories. Sometimes we love people more than the memories they gave us. We fall for the person, not just for the memories. We love, we live life to create beautiful memories for us and the loved ones around us.

Expectations hurt in proportion to the emotional investment. Whenever we are too much attached to someone or something, we grow attachment and that attachment leads to expectations. These expectations when fulfilled are an awesome experience. But when we are too much emotionally invested and when those dreams aren't coming true, it stings and hurts and kills from within.

Getting over it is by forgiving and moving on with life accepting that you will never get over that true love. Forgiveness is your trait. It solely depends on you and not on the other person. You want to forgive them because you want peace of mind and don't want to hold grudges against anyone in your life.

Feelings and emotions are real. If you truly love a person, you will love them forever, even though they can't see you that way. That's why love is always unconditional. You love that person because you want to, not because you have that hope that someday he will love you back. If you just hope for being loved back, that's not love, to begin with, it is just some business deal. You love him because your feelings for him are real, deep, and true.

You met Max a long time ago. You were both in Formula 3 in 2014 and got along really well. You started to see each other outside of racing and after a while, you could call yourself friends. But you had feelings for him. Even before you get to know each other properly. You tried so hard to show him that you were interested in him, but nothing. Either he was oblivious or he was not interested in you. Either way, you were hurt, and that was seen in the way you competed. You lost your ambition, there were some days when you cried before the race because you didn't feel able to compete, and Max had no idea you were feeling that way because you wouldn't let him see you when you were at your lowest point.

You gave up racing and Max ended up competing in Formula 1. You weren't jealous of him, you knew you never had a chance to get there, but he deserved it, and all the hard work he put in helped him. You were with him, you encouraged him every time, on the phone, if you could not travel, or in person when he asked you to be with him.

'I need my best friend, Y/N, please. Can you come to the race on the weekend?'

And no matter how much it hurt you to hear that he considered you just his best friend, you wouldn't let your tears fall on your cheeks and tell him you'd be there for the weekend. Every time. It doesn't matter that you had something else planned, you never refused him.

"Oh my God, thank you so much for coming!" you heard Max. You look up and see your best friend coming towards you, ready to hug you. You instantly smiled. No matter how you would feel when you see him you can't help but smile.

"Of course I came. I wouldn't be anywhere else," you say and you are taken by surprise by the sincerity with which you uttered those words.

He takes you to meet some people and you were happy because he seemed well, he seemed delighted with his place there.

"Do you miss it?" you heard Daniel asking you, but you had no idea what he was talking about. "The racing," he continued as if he had read your thoughts and knew you had no idea what he was talking about.

"Oh," you shrug nonchalantly. "I mean, yeah, sometimes, but it's fine."

"Is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Clearly your mind is somewhere else. I thought it was because you were here and that brought back some racing memories, but it's different, isn't it?"

"Okay, Daniel, I appreciate the free therapy session, but I'm fine, seriously. I'm just happy to be here to encourage Max."

"Talking about me? Man, I'm feeling like a superstar," your best friend says coming between you. "I don't know about you guys but I want to get drunk."

"Are you even allowed to get drunk? It's Wednesday, don't you have press conferences tomorrow?"

"I'm in!" Daniel says and you roll your eyes. Of course he is.

Getting drunk with two boys you swear have ADHD was not a good idea.

Technically speaking, you weren't drunk, you drank a bottle of beer all night so you could take care of the two boys. Drunk Daniel was ok. He was not very agitated, he was even calmer than usual. He was sitting on the couch, laughing louder than usual, but it wasn't a cause of concern for you. Max on the other hand was a different story. Being drunk, he seemed very attracted to the balcony and that stressed you a lot. You tried to explain to him that it is dangerous on the balcony and that it is much more fun inside. You hardly convinced him.

"You're not funny at all, Y/N!"

"I'd rather know you're alive, Max."

Daniel went to bed at about 11:30 PM, but Max showed no signs of being tired. No matter how much you told him about tomorrow's busy schedule, he didn't seem to care.

You were lying on the couch, staring at the TV, and Max was on the floor, quietly for once. You wanted to ask him if he was feeling well, but he spoke before you could say something.

"Do you believe in love?"

Those five words knocked the air out of your lungs. Love? What made him ask you about love?

"Yes, I do," you answer and hope that he'll be satisfied with what you said.

"What is love anyway?"

"That depends, Max. Love is different for everybody."

"Well," he said and turns to look at you. "What is love for you?"

You sighed. What was love for you? Max. But you can't say that.

"Love is a broad term, Max. It can have different meanings for different people and can vary according to the context. At times love is synonymous with respect. At others, it is all about caring and sharing. At still others, it is a trail of concern, affection, and connection."

You didn't know you started to cry until Max kindly wiped off the tears on your face. Who would have thought that talking about love in front of the person you loved the most in this world would have made you cry? You whisper a 'thank you' to Max and get up to take a napkin from the kitchen.

"We're best friends, right?" you hear him coming towards you and he sits down on the kitchen chair.

"Sure," you answer, wiping away your tears.

"What you described. About love... I think I feel that for someone."

You heard something break and you were sure it was your heart. What you felt in that moment was what? Jealousy? This is human behavior. We, people, have the tendency to imagine ourselves with the person on whom we develop our crush. And this is totally normal, everyone does that.

Initially, it's all roses and unicorns. We start to imagine how our life would be with the other person, how we would treat them, what gifts we would give them, how we will take their pain away and how we will happily live after.

But life doesn’t work how we want it to work, does it? Then comes the second phase where we start to realize the differences between you and your crush, but still we hold on to it because in our minds that person is just too perfect to be wrong.

And then comes the thirds phase where we see our crush getting into a relationship with someone else. We even think that our crush doesn’t deserve that person, my crush deserves me! I’m better than that person. But that’s how it works, things fall apart. They break. That’s life. And at that moment, it broke your heart and you knew you want to know nothing about that other person. But you were hurt. He was drunk, yes, but you still had a crush on him, even if your feelings for him couldn't be reciprocal.

"That's... That's great, Max," you bit your lip to stop your tears from falling. "Let's go to bed."

"I think I always loved this girl but I never told her. Maybe I should," he giggles and you feel your blood boiling in your veins.

“You wouldn’t know love if it crushed your fucking chest,” you yell at him and you were sure Daniel was now wide awake. Max was watching you with wide eyes. "Stop talking about things you have no idea about," you shoot a glance at the clock. 12:25 AM. Looks like a lovely time to go for a walk in a foreign country you've never been to before. You collect your phone and wallet and march to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I need fresh air. Go to bed."

"I'm coming with you, Y/N!"

You opened the door and left, not letting Max come after you. You started to run and in front of the hotel, you stopped. Where to now? You have no idea where you are or what is near the hotel, and you desperately needed to put some distance between you and Max.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Running like that? Are you crazy?" you hear a pissed Max behind you. You tried to wipe the tears in a desperate attempt to look like you haven't been bawling your eyes out. "What happened inside?"

"Nothing, Max."

"Let's talk about it. Please."

"Talk about it? Fine. Let's do it! What should I start with? The fact that I've had a crush on you for three years or should I give you some love advice for the girl you like?"

"Say that one more time," Max said, walking towards you.

"Say what one more time?"

"You liked me for the past three years?" he was now in front of you, feeling his hot breaths on your face, and you could smell the alcohol.

"That is not relevant."

"Why not? I should know if someone has feelings for me, no? At least that's what I deserve, I think."

"Stop being so fucking cocky, Verstappen. This is not a joke," you puffed. "Forget I said a damn thing," you started to walk back into the hotel.

"Well, if I have to forget what you said that means I'm not allowed to tell you that I've liked you too for the past three years, right?"

You stoped. He said what? You were dreaming. Maybe you were the one that drank a lot. You were drunk, that's the reason why you just heard Max confessing his feelings for you. Or maybe you were both drunk.

"Max, let's go to bed. You've had a lot to drink, maybe we'll talk in the morning if you remember anything."

He came to you and hugged you from behind.

"I know what I said. Sure, I've had a few beers to drink, but I know that what I'm telling you now it's the truth."

[hardestgrove]

A thought I had for how to use Billy in season 4 if you wanted to have him around for the Hawkins plotline.

For starters— Max is still vecna’d. There’s enough shittiness in her life without Billy’s death to make her a target so I’m not gonna worry about juggling changes to this.

Personally, I’m of the opinion that Billy was in the same grade as Steve because the gym scenes read to me as PE class and not basketball practice (how the hell could Billy join mid/late season? etc) and PE is not usually a multi grade affair. So he’s working somewhere in Hawkins, say a mechanic shop or a record store. If you’re adamant he’s still in school then he’s on the basketball team with Lucas and Jason. I will admit this is more juicy narratively.

I’m aggressively ignoring how fucked up Billy’s body would be and how long it would take to get through physical therapy and how he’d likely be impaired for life by his injures because it’s television and the rule of god  in television writing that everyone knows, is when someone is injured — even critically — it heals in time for the next season and they’re as mobile and strong as the plot demands.

Lucas over the course of his like year+ dating Max has gotten a better sense of the Vibes in the Hargrove-Mayfield home and either knows or suspects that Billy is being abused by his dad. Him and Billy have a tense relationship that is slowly crawling towards tolerable solely because of exposure to each other because of Max/Sports. For Lucas the knowledge that Billy is being abused makes him conflicted. He doesn’t like the idea of ANYONE being hurt like that but Billy has also been dogshit to him so he doesn’t know how to feel about this. Because like, Fuck Billy right? The question “how much of our beef is because of your dad hurting you?” colors all their interactions for him now. There’s no clear stance or message or anything about how Lucas should or does feel about Billy, knowing he’s abused doesn’t make him instantly forgive him. We just know that it’s strain and he’s conflicted.

Billy is friends with Eddie from the start of the season. It’s a 60k weed deals to besties situation. Met because Eddie’s a dealer and Billy works at the record shop to they see each other around and when your drug deal becomes an Event because you two can’t shut up about Dio then congrats you’re just friends now. Billy is IMMEDIATELY invested in the Eddie manhunt plotline and doesn’t need to be convinced he’s innocent. Probably says something like “Munson couldn’t win a fight against a 5yo like fuck he’d kill a chick”. Might’ve even been someone Eddie turned to when he fled the trailer. Was definitely there when they found him. Billy also very early on pits himself against Jason, starting off a a Whole Thing there.

Billy and Jason are narrative foils. Jason seems like a nice guy, a bit of a jerk jock but hey, he’s 18. But over the course of the season we see him devolve into his worst self and it’s frankly shocking. Billy comes off as an abrasive asshole but we’ve seen with the s3 flashbacks, his constant internal battle against his possession, and his saving Eleven that he’s actually a good dude at heart. The similarities and differences between him and Jason are made more apparent over the season and are a highlighted part of their arcs.

Billy along with Lucas are originally more focused on the Jason-Eddie plotline. But Billy INSTANTLY focuses on the Max plotline the SECOND he finds out she’s about to be the next victim, even more so than Lucas who’s thinking more logically. Like, full blown meltdown, throwing things, hitting stuff, screaming, season 2 Billy wrecking shop in the Byers house levels of unhinged. Some combo of people manage to calm him down to the point he’s at least not an active detriment. Likely some combo of Max, Steve and Robin since I don’t feature others being very effective lol. But it’s extremely jarring for everyone, including Max, because it really does go a long way to show them how much Billy really does care about her. Which isn’t all ways obvious because of his bullshit.

Around here my thoughts on this get a little more fuzzy. the two most obvious ways to use him at this point are that he’s glued to Max’s side and is part of this timeline’s dear billy grave scene. Lots of sibling emotional shit, likely some with Lucas too as they’re the most invested in Max. Also maybe some bonding with Steve since Steve’s a good guy and can see Billy’s a wreck worrying for Max which sets them up to like, Actually Be Friends. I can also see him being put on Eddie/Jason duty. Basically being pitted against the basketball team and all that to slow them down and make sure Eddie’s safe because we all know that Billy could deliver a smackdown on Jason on every level. This plays well into the Billy/Jason foils idea. Having Billy somehow at the townhall when Jason’s trying to incite a lynch mob would be a genuinely epic showdown I would pay to see. Also having Billy pitted against Jason and the team gives us an opportunity to see Billy using all his rage and toxicity and bad behavior in a more constructive way. Like he can really unload onto these guys because what they’re doing is blatantly fucked up and it would likely be a bit cathartic for him. Billy’s likely been trying to choke down all his rage and violence to “be a better person” but now he’s getting to use it for a good cause instead of just hurting the people around him. You could also likely mix these two up and move him between the two plotlines as needed. Though I admit I find it hard to see him leaving Max’s side but maybe she convinced him to help Eddie who knows.

The whole season is filled with the unspoken tension between Billy and Lucas and while that tension has been wearing down with more speed than ever given their mutual love and fear for Max it’s still there and it’s still looming over every scene they’re in together. When we get to the final mission more likely than not Billy refuses to leave Max’s side and doesn’t join the attack on Vecna.Which yeah is bonkers because Billy??? Not in a Fight??? Seems fake. But I stand by this because he’s nothing if not an overly extreme emotional fucko. If she’s going to let herself be bait you KNOW he’s not leaving her. He just cannot do it. So it’s him and Lucas out here being tense as fuck. Billy having to listen to Max talk about the ugliest shit she’s thought about him as she lures Vecna and we get to see how it effects him. Knowing Dacre, there is a single perfect tear™.

When Jason shows up Lucas still gets to have his “i wanted to be just like you except not bc jfc you’re insane” moment but instead of it being Lucas and Jason fighting, it’s Billy and Jason. Because the culmination of the 2 season journey of squashing the Billy-Lucas beef is that Billy takes on the same role that Steve had when it was Billy rocking up acting psycho. Lucas being brave enough to say that shit while having a gun pointed at him cements a lot of things for Billy. Because however you portray Billy or what kinda dude you think he is, he’s had months to work on his shit AND I always stand by the concept that his long term issues with Lucas would always be more around the fact that Lucas is dating Max and to Billy, all men are dangerous. It’s his responsibility to look after Max and her dating just fucking sets him off. To him the threat of a new Neil is ever present, any man could secretly be a Neil and if Max ever got hurt by a Neil and he couldn’t stop it he’d fucking implode. But right here at this moment he’s getting his wake up call that Not All Men Are Neil and that Lucas is good person who loves his sister.

So Billy puts himself between Lucas and the gun and it’s the second time Billy’s put himself between Lucas as a threat but it’s the first time it’s explicitly for Lucas. Which understandably is A Lot for Lucas. These two don’t get on, Billy terrorized him, threatened him and tried to hurt him. They’ve basically only tolerated each other because they’re in each other’s spheres because of the Upside Down nonsense and Max (and basketball if Billy’s in school). Even with a better idea of what Billy’s life actually looks like Lucas has still not been a real fan and has been very conflicted about how much he feels it really matters to him. But now Billy’s taking on a dude who’s got a loaded gun pointed at them, physically shielding Lucas from possibly being shot and going to town on him to keep Lucas safe. So uh, it goes a long way to heal the rift. A bonus is that since Billy is fighting Jason instead you can have Lucas focus on Max and the walkman isn’t necessarily destroyed. Depends on how much drama you want for the finale.

If you keep Eddie dying Billy goes off the rails with grief. If Max and Eddie get got-- Literally no words. You’d be lucky if he didn’t wrap his car around a pole. Literally the only two people he cared about and who cared about him are dead or effectively so and they were the two who he was “in charge” of protecting. It’s ugly. If both are alive he and Eddie talk about being roommates since Eddie’s trailer is gone and shit. Billy makes a smart ass remark to Max and Lucas that’s basically his way of saying he’s cool with them as a couple and with Lucas. Probably has a scene with Lucas where they explicitly talk about the squashing of the beef. Also I want some Billy-El interactions because I just think they’re neat.

okay WOW this is WAY LONGER THAN I’D THOUGHT IT BE. why under estimate my length? i’ve literally been doing this for years lol but YES this is a very rough first draft/brainstorm of how you could’ve written an arc for Billy in season 4 if the desire was to have him in the Hawkins plot and not say the Russia one.

[itgirlification]

supermodel (2) | jjk

your story with jungkook never seems to end, yet you’re still worried about how it’s gonna end.

pairing: ex-bf!jk x thick!reader

warnings: TOXIC (i cannot stress this enough shit is hella toxic), yn is kinda (very) dumb, jungkook is an actual asshole, borderline mental abuse, infidelity, more insecuritiiiies, mentions/hints of sex, etc.

part one part three

There you were in his arms again, with only your panties and his shirt on.

At this point, you couldn’t even explain yourself. You were guilty, but you know what they say; love hurts.

With his arms wrapped around you and you clinging to him like that, you couldn’t care less about what was gonna happen next. You knew you were probably gonna have a mental breakdown when you go back to the dorms but for now, you were okay.

After he came over that night, he contacted you again. He said he didn’t want this to be serious, he wanted it to be a solely sexual relationship.

“You know, you’re the first girl I’ve been with, who seems to like getting hurt and degraded”, he sighs against your hair. “Sometimes I feel like you can’t get enough of it.”

You stayed silent. What were you supposed to do anyway? Tell him he’s right and stay like this for a while or react defensively and start an endless argument? You chose the first one.

“You’re the only woman that’d let me do all this stuff and still love me. Maybe that’s why I came back to you.”

Holding back the tears, you cling closer to his larger body, as if you were using him as some kind of shield. He thought you were an easy target and forgiving. What else would a man want from a woman he was only interested in fucking, a side piece? Even if she’s in love with him, she was gonna ignore that just to spend as much time with him as possible.

“It’s not like you actually came back.”, you responded, keeping your voice as stable as you could. “We’re just fucking.”

Jungkook sighed deeply, most likely noticing your petty undertone. “Don’t be like that. We aren’t fucking right now.”

You weren’t sure what point exactly he was trying to prove, you agreed to be his side chick. Did he think you didn’t know what a side chick was supposed to do? Because you did know, you just secretly thought you guys were meant to be, you weren’t just some side piece.

Looking around the motel room, your stomach began feeling weird. He wasn’t usually cheap, but you guessed he thought a side chick didn’t deserve a better environment than a cheap motel room rent for a night.

“Because we literally just did.”, you calmly said. You weren’t trying to piss him off.

But Jungkook wasn’t having it. Out of nowhere, he shoved you aside and put his hands over his face, noticeably frustrated.

“What happened?”, you weren't sure if asking that was the best option.

Jungkook turns his body to you. “What happened?? You keep on fucking me up and being a bitch about all this and you ask me what happened?”

He was so furious, his eyes were dark and his face was screwed up. You were now both standing, his tall figure towering over yours.

You saw his hand forming a fist and it would’ve been a lie if you said you weren’t terrified. He hasn’t touched you once throughout your relationship, but you never know.

“I didn’t even say anything. Maybe you’re just a little too sensitive.”, you were pouring salt on a wound at this point, but you didn’t want to be weak and let him talk to you like that.

“Me, sensitive?”, his tone was dangerously serene, as he leaned closer to your face. “If I wasn’t here with you, you'd probably still be crying over me. And you know where I’d be? Laying in bed with the beautiful model I have the privilege to call my girlfriend. Yn, I don’t need you. Don’t get bold with me, ‘cause we both know who’s gonna be heartbroken in the end.”

You couldn’t look him in the eyes, what did you get yourself into again? This wasn’t Jungkook’s fault, this wasn’t anybody’s fault but yours. You should’ve never opened up, you should’ve never said yes to being his side piece, you should’ve never been his girlfriend, to begin with. You stayed silent, but your loud sniffs and your uneven breathing said more than you could at the moment.

“I’m leaving.”, he announced coldly before throwing his black leather jacket over his broad shoulders, leaving you half-naked, crying on the poor-quality motel bed you just had sex on. When he got out of the motel room, you looked outside of the small window, watching him leave in the car he drove you here with.

Now, you had no other option than to call Jane to pick you up since your dorm was a half an hour walk away from the motel and you didn’t have the energy to walk for even a minute.

You weren’t sure if you had the energy for all the questions Jane was gonna ask you when she sees your mascara smeared face and your messy hair. Not to mention the motel. You weren’t a motel type of girl and she knew that.

Still, you called her and she answered almost immediately. “Yn? What happened? I thought you were gonna sleepover at your parents’?”

Sleepover at your parents’ house? You had almost forgotten the bad lie you told Jane just to have sex with Jungkook in this cheap-ass motel. And to think you were convinced you two were gonna stay the whole night.

“Uh”, you quickly coughed to cover up the voice cracks you got from crying. “Yeah, it’s a long story, please pick me up. I’ll text you the address.”

About 10 minutes later, Jane arrived and looked at you like you were out of your mind when you got into the car. “Yn, what the fuck? I was so worried about you. And this isn’t your parents’ house, this is a fucking motel. Did you meet a guy? Did he do something to you? Should I call the cops?”

“No, no, no, oh my god, please don’t”, you knew she was gonna ask a lot of questions. “I lied to you. So what actually happened was me and Jungkook reconnected an-“

She rolled her eyes. “Of course it was Jungkook. So I’m guessing he left you here?”

You hesitantly nodded.

“So when were you gonna tell me you ‘reconnected’ with him? When did you even ‘reconnect’ with him?”, she mockingly asked you. You weren’t blaming her for being pissed off, you’d have been too in this situation.

“A month ago? I think..”, you muttered.

“Hm”, Jane nodded, sighing at your naivety. “And when did he even break up with his model chick?”

You awkwardly looked away and Jane was hoping it wasn’t because of what she thought.

“He didn’t break up with her??”, Jane was beyond frustrated. “So.. you’re like his side chick now? Are we gonna stoop that low for men, yn?”

Jane always wanted the best for you and you knew she knew what was the best for you too, you were just too foolish. And too in love with a man you can’t force into loving you again.

“I know but please can we not talk about this right now? I just don’t feel like it.”, you asked, looking down on your fingers, ashamed of yourself.

“Alright, I’m sorry, babe.”, Jane hugged your side quickly, before starting the engine and heading back to the dorm. “You know I just want what’s best for you.”

You nodded, looking out of the window with your head full.

_

“Bella just texted me and said her birthday party will be 90s themed? Can’t she be a little more specific?”, Jane barged into the room, looking down on her phone in disbelief.

Bella was a person you two met at college in one of your shared classes. She was a sweetheart, but she was a little spoiled too. The only reason why she got into the college was that her rich daddy bribed them, but you couldn’t be mad, your parents would’ve done the same if they had the money.

She was extremely extroverted, a people person. She probably never had a boring day in her life with all the parties she threw whenever her dad and his 20 something-year-old girlfriend were on vacation or business trips. She even had some celebrity friends and would just casually post selfies with them on her Instagram story like it was a normal thing to do. She was basically living the dream, clueless about what real life for others really was about.

Jane had a love-hate relationship with Bella ever since they met. She thought Bella was a nice girl, but it was ‘unbearable’ to have a conversation with her because she was too self-centered to talk about anything else than herself.

You shrugged. “Just wear something Aaliyah would’ve worn.”

“Hm. Fair enough. It’s really not all that deep, actually.”, She said. “So what are you gonna wear?”

“I don’t even know if I’m going, Bella’s parties are boring.”, you answered honestly.

You really weren’t sure if you’d go. You did feel like seeing people and having a little fun but it wasn’t like you ever had fun at any of Bella’s parties. One time, a guy puked all over a new dress you bought just for the party, and another time, you were forced to drink 4 beer bottles. You hated beer.

“Why not? It’s gonna be fun and you’re coming.”, she decided for you, making you playfully roll your eyes. “And wear that black latex dress, I haven’t seen it on you in forever.”

To say that Jane was a fashionista would be an understatement. She was too invested in fashion to be bothered with anything else.

“Alright, but only if we don’t stay for long.”, you tried to compromise with her.

She nodded. “We gotta buy her presents though. Is there even anything she doesn’t have?”

You sighed, annoyed. “C’mon, there’s gonna be at least 200 people at that party, it’s not like she’ll notice if we just don’t get her anything. Besides, she’s rich as fuck.”

Jane snickered at your comment. “Girl, you must not know her, she checks every damn person and probably throws them out if they don’t buy her a Chanel bag or something. Bitch is a little crazy.”

It was amusing because you both knew that was exaggerated. Bella wasn't that serious about gifts. But let’s just say, for the money that her dad had, she was a little too greedy.

But you were too bothered with your own life than to worry about other's.

_

As soon as you arrived at Bella’s mansion, two security guards were standing in front of the door. They let you in as you showed them your invitations. It was a little bit extra, but that’s just how Bella was.

The first thing you noticed when you entered the house was the smell of sweat and weed. Already? You weren’t really surprised though.

Bella was standing there, wearing a skintight red dress that, ironically, didn’t really fit her own party’s theme. But she did look absolutely beautiful greeting her guests with the biggest smile on her glowing face. She had her strawberry blonde hair down in elegant beach curls and there were some cute butterfly clips placed in them.

You could recognize that it was her birthday from miles away. She was basically shining.

“Oh my god, Jane, Yn!! I’m so happy to see you guys!”, an overly keen Bella came, hugging you both with strength. “Oh, I see you got me something, girls you know you shouldn’t have!”

She tried hiding her smile at the bags in your hands, freeing the two of you from them immediately.

“It’s your birthday, Bella. We can’t just come here without any gifts, girl.”, Jane smiled. “Happy birthday.”

You looked to your side, admiring Jane’s acting skills. “Happy birthday, Bella! I can’t believe you’re 23 now.”

“I know right, if you were a year younger, you’d be as old as your dad’s girlfriend.”, Jane joked around, making Bella hysterically laugh.

“C’mon, almost everybody’s here already”, Bella excitedly pushed you towards the living room.

The room’s stench was even more unbearable than the one at the entrance, leaving you covering your nose for a second leaving out an ‘oof’.

The 90s trap music was heard extremely loudly through the whole house and there were people dancing and grinding. There were some couples that sat on one of the many couches, acting like they were in their own little world. It wasn’t very pleasant to watch, but you just chose to ignore it. The stench was something you couldn’t ignore though.

You were already bored out of your mind.

A few minutes of pure boredom and dry conversations passed then the music stopped playing and you could hear Bella’s voice calling for everybody’s attention. “I’m gonna open the presents now, so everybody come here and Daphne, please bring the gifts here so I can open them.”

Daphne was Bella’s personal maid. She never really talked, but she did everything she needed to. She brought all the bags to Bella one by one and you could’ve sworn she was trying not to cry out of happiness.

“Oh my god, Jackson”, She cried out as she pulled a pair of Saint Laurent shoes out of a box. “These are so beautiful. You even got the right size. Thank you so mu-“

“Bella, I’m so sorry we’re late, we had to run some errands”, a soft-spoken voice interrupted, making everybody in the room turn her way, just to see the charming model with none other than Jeon Jungkook by her side. Wow.

As soon as you turned your head to see who it was, you turned back around, looking at Jane to make sure she saw what you saw. You sent her a questioning, almost panicking look just for her to shrug.

“Yuki! It’s fine, girl. Come here, I’m opening my presents right now.”, The birthday girl exclaimed, making Yuki immediately hand her her gift.

Jungkook was just walking behind his girlfriend, making no type of noise whatsoever and you prayed he wouldn’t see you.

They sat down at an angle where you couldn’t help but look at them though and you were sure he looked at you for a split second as well. They looked beautiful together.

Bella just continued opening gifts and thanking everybody dearly, but you weren’t paying attention to that. You just zoned out for most of it. Those were a lot of gifts she got.

You couldn’t help but steal another glance at your ex-boyfriend and the girl besides him.

She looked even cuter in real life. Her cheeks had a natural blush to them and her hair was long and healthy. She was thin and her skin tone was warm and even.

You’ve always been insecure about your hyperpigmentation, but she didn’t seem to have any problems with how she looked. She was near damn perfect. Perfect wasn’t real, but if it was, it’d be her.

Jungkook probably never had a problem introducing her to his parents or his friends. You always felt like he had difficulties with that while he was dating you. He just wasn’t confrontational enough to tell you he was ashamed to have you as his girlfriend.

You seemed to be stuck in your place while everybody else was either dancing or making conversation.

Jane was sitting next to you, talking to a girl with blond box braids about a new movie that recently came out. You heard what they were saying, but it sounded like a foreign language to you since you weren’t focused.

“Yn? Are you okay?”, Jane whispered in your ear, hugging your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know they were invited.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Jane. It’s not your fault, I just kind of wanna go home.”

She looked at you apologetically. “Can’t we stay for a little while? I promise it won’t take long, I’m just actually having fun here.”

You had to admit you were being selfish, not just in that moment, but whenever it came to Jungkook. You’ve dragged Jane through all of your shit and never really thought about how she must feel like.

Nodding in response to her. “I’m gonna get myself something to drink.”

You finally stood up from your place, looking around unsure, feeling like you’re taking up so much space wherever you go, even when you were doing absolutely nothing.

You wore the latex dress, but only because Jane insisted and made sure you knew you looked good. She convinced you for maybe a second, but all those insecurities were coming back. You tried sucking in your stomach the whole night, but it just wasn’t enough.

You were asking yourself all kinds of questions. If your arms looked too fat and if your cellulite was visible, if your hip-dips were as noticeable to others as they were to you. You felt like everybody was looking and they were judging really hard.

All you wanted was to fade into oblivion.

You were feeling his eyes on your back and god, you wanted to look too but you fought the urge, just continued walking to the bathroom. You weren’t in the mood to drink after all.

Your gut feeling was telling you he was following, but you ignored it.

Until you were about to close the bathroom door and you saw black timberlands stepping between the door and the doorframe to stop you from closing it.

You sighed, opening the door, resulting in him getting in the bathroom with you.

“Why are you avoiding me?”, the handsome man facing you asked, brown eyes looking deep inside of yours.

“How can I avoid you when you didn’t even try talking to me?”, you asked back, looking away immediately.

You hated how your relationship was just a cycle of him hurting you and coming back, acting like he hadn’t done anything wrong. And he was so good at it too.

He chuckled darkly, letting his eyes glide down your body for a second just to look back into your eyes. “You know exactly what I mean, yn. Don’t play dumb.”

You did know what he meant.

“And? It’s not like I have anything to say to you.”

Jungkook came closer to you, softly wrapping one arm around your waist, whispering in your ear. “You don’t?”

You couldn’t believe how shameless he was, being so close to you while his girlfriend was a few meters away, outside of this door, probably thinking he’s getting her a drink or something. You wondered if he did the same thing to you when you were dating.

“Jungkook, stop. Your girlfriend is here.”, you tried to convince yourself you didn’t want it. “How can you even do this?”

“It’s nothing we haven’t done before, princess.”, He kissed your earlobe. “You can’t possibly think it’s okay when she’s not around, but not okay when she is. It’s the same thing.”

You knew he was right, besides, you were just as guilty as he was. You were messing around with a taken guy and the worst part was, you knew he was taken and you still did it.

“I know, but I wanna end whatever this is”, you hesitated to say. “It’s unhealthy and you already have a girlfriend, why don’t you go and kiss her, why me?”

You were avoiding this conversation ever since this started. Sometimes it’s hard talking about things you don’t actually want to hear about.

“What do you mean?”, Jungkook feigned confusion, but you knew better than to believe him. “It’s easier said than done, yn. We have a history together, you know that.”

“I do, but that’s all we are. History. And we should both get over it.”, you responded.

“But what if I don’t want to?”, it was more of a statement than a question, really. “What if I told you, you’re special to me?”

You were gonna have a meltdown if he continued with this. Why was he so fucking complicated? You knew he didn’t love you so what was it?

“But I’m not. The only reason why you come back is because you think I’m easy material. It’s because you were my first everything and it’s because you know exactly how much you mean to me.”, you cry out, tears coming up to ruin your makeup again. You wished you wouldn’t cry as much as you did. “You know I’ll always let you in, no matter what. I know I’m at fault too here and I’m not blaming you, but please for god’s sake, don’t make it worse on me.”

You looked in the mirror, almost not recognizing yourself. You felt detached from reality, but not in a good way at all.

Jungkook scoffed, looking down at you. “I know I shouldn’t have tried talking to you. It’s like you can’t even appreciate anybody showing you affection. I’m trying to prove to you, that you aren’t nothing to me and that’s the response that I get. Not everybody’s against you, yn, you’re just too insecure to notice. That’s why you haven’t ever had anybody showing you interest. It’s because you lack confidence and think the world revolves around you. But I did show you interest. In the past and now. But look at you. You haven’t changed at all, still the little yn who compares herself to other girls and thrives off of male attention, because you can’t believe that somebody could love you just for you when there’s skinnier, prettier girls walking around. So what if there are skinnier, prettier girls around? That’s reality, yn.”

You didn’t know what exactly you expected him to say, but that wasn’t it. Looking at him with big, teary eyes, is that really what he thought of you? Of course, it was. Because it was the truth. The cold, hard truth. Not sugarcoated. He knew you better than you wanted him to.

Without a single word leaving your dry lips, you open the door and run out, ignoring him calling your name and the weird stares people were giving you. You needed to find Jane.

Once you found her joking around with a bunch of random people, you go up to her. You most likely looked like you came out of a horror movie.

“Yn? What the fuck happened?”, she lightly took your face in her warm hands and caressed your cheek worriedly.

“Pl- please, can we just go home?”, you whimpered, thankful that everybody was respectful enough to turn around and focus on their stuff instead of ogling at you.

“Sure, sure. Come here”, she took you in her arms and walked you out of the mansion, not caring to say goodbye to anybody.

_

people who wanted to get tagged in pt. 2:

@1-in-abillion @sarcasmflowsinmyveins @chieftoadturkeynickel @madygswich @kb-bangtanenthusiast

thank you for the support love yall!! 💗

a/n: so i know most of yall probably wanted a happy ending but first of all this probably isn’t the ending:) and i wanted to portray it as realistically as possible. It’s really hard to get out of a toxic relationship especially when you’re so in love with them but i’ll see what i can do to make yn happy cuz girly’s going thru it. Btw this wasn’t proofread so there’s probably so many mistakes and i thought this was very underwhelming but i hope you guys like it thank you!

[mountain-man-cumeth]

What Went Wrong: An In-Depth Analysis of Muriel's Route

*Youtuber voice*

Below are the opinions of an uneducated individual on what could’ve left the majority of The Arcana audience dissatisfied. I will explore the plot, tropes, themes and morals of the Muriel route and try to explain what may have gone wrong. I will be treating the game as a novel since it's advertised as one.

1. Consistency. If you are unfamiliar with the chekhov's gun; it's a story writing principle that dictates each element you introduce should come into play (foreshadowing). Now let's start with a few story beats that were later abandoned or concluded in an underwhelming manner:

Muriel's blanket

Muriel's magic mark (on his back)

Forest spirit (spirits in general)

Lucio's upbringing

Circumstances of MC's death

Figurines/whittling/charms

Muriel's blanket is teased to be a tapestry, which would tie in with his later fascination with them later on, as it had been the only thing he had left from his past. MC neither sees nor comments on the blanket, we only know it exists thanks to other playthroughs and short stories.

Magic marks are an important point in the game. Every main route emphasises on how it affects the chosen LI. It's reveal is important in a way that it serves as a passage to a new act where the reader explores magic and Arcana pantheon as they are a monumental part of the overall worldbuilding. This exact point applies to the Heart of the Forest and how spirits interact with the world around them as well.

Whittling and Charm making are the only hobbies we get from Muriel's isolated life, their introduction helps the reader humanise the character by giving us a crumb of his everyday life. It's never mentioned again after the scene where MC asks him what he does. He doesn't idly whittle during their journey and charms only come to play in an offhanded reference during reversed ending.

The other two are also ignored but I will touch on Lucio later on.

Why do these matter? A few abandoned plot points don't make or break the story but on a grander level it hinders the audience investment. When we read, we like to think the details we notice will come to play eventually, we like recognizing references that were introduced earlier. I'm sure I don't need to give examples on this one, I don't think anyone will disagree.

2. Themes. Thematic influences this story utilized are all over the place, and it seems to me like it stems from the improper application of certain tropes;

The Hero's Journey

Home Sweet Home

Shell-Shocked Vet

Last of His Kind

etc.

Some of these tropes tackle themes such as;

Slavery

PTSD

Survivor's Guilt

Genocide

I'm not going to try to explain How to Write any of these topics. I'm not remotely qualified. I think it's better if I just give examples from popular media because whether you know how to write it or not, you can still understand when it's written well;

AtLA deals with genocide and survivor's guilt. It's in the name; The Last Airbender. Aang is the sole survivor of a culture he'd only had an opportunity to engage in for a handful of years. He left them with a childish tantrum and now they're gone forever. I can't think of another mainstream series that shows the gruesome reality of war and genocide better than this one.

When Muriel realizes his true heritage and loses Khamgalai is the point of the story where Luke sees his family's farm burned down, Aang goes back to the air temple, Treebeard walks in on the demolished part of the forest. (The inciting incident)

(Could also have been forest spirit’s death but it was too early in the story so I don’t consider it a missed opportunity.)

Up until this point the hero has their doubts, they're going through the motions but they are either underestimating the enemy or they're a passive protagonist. Either way, this is the point where the hero has to take the reins of the story. What purpose does this serve in Muriel's route instead? It simply validates Muriel's beliefs. He's useless, he isn't strong enough. We as the reader need a point to see where the hero takes a step to drive the story forward or whoever takes that step will steal the spotlight, it will be their story. As it is, this is the point where it ceases to be Muriel’s story.

PTSD got the worst end of the deal. Since Dragon Age fandom has a huge overlap with the Arcana I will use Fenris as an example; for those who are unfamiliar with the character, Fenris is an escaped slave. After the sex scene he vividly describes an experience that most people can easily identify as a flashback. The game never tells us that he was abused, it doesn’t show us him having a panic attack but it shows us that whatever transpired between him and the player character clearly triggered an unpleasant memory.

Arcana tries and initially succeeds to do something similar. We see that the character is untrustworthy, sensitive to touch, easily agitated, can’t sleep outside of his perceived safe environment… It introduces us the cause later on and the story has two options, each will drastically change the moral of the story:

Remember these as they will be important later on

Portray Muriel fighting as a bad thing; You can’t fight violence with violence angle or the fact that the villain’s forcing him into a situation where he’ll have to fight again makes the villain all the more intimidating.

Portray Muriel fighting as a good thing; He has the means to defeat the villain and he just needs encouragement. With great power comes great responsibility. By not fighting he willingly condemns everyone to an awful fate and that he is selfish.

I’d like to take a second to explore the 1. Option, I feel like the game may have intended to implement that idea but failed because of the implementation of Morga and choices presented for the player character: Morga is an Old-Soldier, these characters are often push the hero out of their comfort zone in an aggressive way towards complacency, they are a narrative foil to the mentor. For the first option to work the story had to show Khamgalai acting as a mentor and having the protagonists challenge Morga’s teachings(see Ozai-Iroh). As it is, Morga’s actions are never put under scrutiny (narratively) and her death feels hollow as a result. She didn’t sacrifice herself for the heroes due to her guilt, she died because she felt a moment of sympathy for her son which wasn’t explored before, she showed no intention to change nor any doubt.

It is clear the game choose 2. Option, it is a controversial choice given Muriel’s mental condition and the game is acutely aware of this, which is likely why Muriel’s PTSD will get carefully scraped from the story from here on out. (I won’t address other instances where his trauma wasn’t taken into account, I feel like this explanation should cover them as well.)

3. Morals. Every story, whether the author intends it or not, has a moral. The Villain most often acts against that moral and in turn can change the hero's perspective. Morals are not ideals; the morality of Killmonger isn’t that marginalised people should fight for their rights, it is that vengeance is just. Whether it’s right or wrong can be debated but what makes an ideal the moral of the story is in the portrayal. How the narrator depicts the events, how people around the heroes react... all are a part of portrayal.

The story choosing “Muriel fighting is a good thing” earlier puts in the foundation of a moral. The story tells us Muriel has to fight, it’s the right thing to do. He has to be brave for the people he loves.

This choice affects how his past actions will be perceived; now, him escaping the arena to save himself is cowardly, abandoning Morga is cowardly.

The story tells us it wasn’t, but shows us that it was. This is the end of the midpoint of the story, at this point we need to have a good grasp on what we should perceive as wrong or right for us to feel invested. If we zig-zag between the morals we won’t know which actions we should root for. But more than that, the conclusion will not feel cathartic as it will inevitably demonstrate the opposing ideals clashing at its climax.

Villain doesn't necessarily have to be sympathetic and Muriel's route makes no effort to make him as such, but they need to be understandable. What danger does Lucio pose to the status quo, what makes him a compelling villain? Whether he conquers Vesuvia or not doesn’t drastically affect Muriel’s way of life, he’s been in hiding for years. He doesn’t threaten to steal MC’s body, Muriel is not compelled to pick up arms to save his beloved. He wants to protect the people from going through what he’s been through, right? That is what the story wants us to think. But what has he been through? Fighting was his choice, Lucio tricked him into it. Lucio later tricked Morga, his own mother, to save his own hide. This tells us that Lucio is a manipulator, but he doesn’t manipulate his way into Vesuvia, he barges in with deus ex machina monsters. He doesn’t demonstrate his skills as a tactician by making deals with neighbouring kingdoms to get their armies. We don’t know his strengths therefore we don’t know his weaknesses. If he seems to be losing he can just conjure a giant dragon to burn everything down, we just can’t know. That is why the application of deus ex machina is highly taboo, the victories don’t feel earned and defeats feel unfair.

4. Tone. Playing with the genre is not uncommon and a game such as Arcana has many opportunities to do so. It is a romance story, everything else is the back-drop. The tone works best when its overall consistent but tonal changes act as shock for the audience to keep them engaged and keeping one tone indefinitely gets us desensitized. We can’t feel constant misery if we are not made to feel tinges of hope in between. Good examples of dramatic tonal change (that I can think of): Mulan - arriving at the decimated village, La Vita e Bella - the father’s death, M*A*S*H - death of Hawkeye’s friend. Two of these examples are mostly comedy which is why this tonal shift affects us so, it was all fun and games until we are slapped in the face with the war going on. There are no one liners in those scenes, the story takes a moment to show appropriate respect to the dead, it gives its characters time to digest and come to terms with loss. Bad examples are the majority of Marvel movies.

In Muriel’s route there’s never such a thing, Muriel has a panic attack and MC kisses him. This unintentionally tells us, the genre being romance, that the panic attack only served to further MC’s advances. It tells us that he’s never had the control of his life and it’s yet again stripped from him by the decisions of player character. This is not the only instance this happens. The story shoe-horns in multiple cuddle sessions between important plot beats. And it does the exact opposite during a moment where he is having a heart-to-heart with the person he loves by having the ghost of Morga appear to give an ominous warning/advice.

When he runs off during masquerade it’s built up to be an important plot point. Muriel will finally face his past, he’s been running away from it all along, and he will have an opportunity to be accepted back in. MC is supportive but ultimately, it’s meant to be Muriel's moment. But as I mentioned above this is not his story anymore so he’s not given any time to address his problems, instead a ghost appears to tell him what he needs to do, again. Because we need to wrap the story up, we don’t have time.

Remember how I said the 2 Options will be important later on, well here we are at the very end. Upright and reversed.

“Portray Muriel fighting as a bad thing”

This suggests that the triumph of Muriel won’t be through violence. Maybe he will outsmart Lucio in a different way, he won’t play his games anymore. This option suggests that Lucio will not be beaten by his own terms.

“Portray Muriel fighting as a good thing”

This option concludes with Muriel finally overcoming his reservations on violence and doing what's right to save the people he loves. And bringing justice to people who Lucio hurt.

If you are wondering why the upright ending feels random, this is likely why. The ending plays out as if the story was building on the 1st option while we spent chapters upon chapters playing out the 2nd one. It is unearned.

(The reversed ending, being reversed, also uses Option 1 path but in which Muriel can’t achieve his narrative conclusion)

The Coliseum is filled with people who are on their side against Lucio’s shadow goons. Because we can’t have people being on Lucio’s side without addressing the duality of human nature, even though it’s an important part of Muriel’s story. The people who watched and enjoyed Lucio’s bloodsport are no more, they are all new and enlightened offscreen. We completely skipped the part where Vesuvia comes to terms with its own complacency and Muriel simply feels at ease because the crowd is cheering on him now. This is what happens when you give the character a chance to challenge those who have been complicit in his abuse (masquerade scene) and completely skip it to move the story along.

Muriel doesn't get justice, ever. The people only love him now because he's fighting for them instead of his own survival. Morga or her clan doesn't answer for the massacre of Kokhuri, Vesuvia doesn't answer for the sick entertainment they indulged in and Lucio doesn't answer for Muriel's enslavement. It is not even acknowledged, nowhere in the story (except the very end of reversed ending, and even then it almost gets him killed so its clearly the wrong thing to do on his part) is a choice presented where Muriel has an opportunity to get any sort of compensation where he instead chooses to move on.

I don’t intend to straw man anyone but this is a sentiment I’ve seen a lot; “It’s a short story, a dating-sim, what do you expect?”

I expect nothing, I’m simply explaining why some people feel how they feel. It is a short dating-sim but it seems to me like it was aiming to be something more by borrowing elements that were clearly far above their weight range to tease something more and under deliver. It is okay to feel content with the story, and it’s okay to feel let down. If we had a unanimous decision on literature we would never be inclined to write our own stories.

[vnderoos]

how did it end up like this? ✷ george weasley

(gif is not mine, credit to the owner) warnings / language, underage drinking word count / 13.1k

masterlist in bio ↴

THE ATMOSPHERE OF THE GREAT HALL that morning was nothing short of pleasant as Y/N walked through the large doors, her eyes flickering over the smiling faces of the other students. Part of her was happy that something as simple as a quidditch match was enough to get the whole school excited, but the other part of her thought the day couldn't move on any faster. She just wanted to watch Gryffindor hand Ravenclaw their asses on a shiny, silver platter, and there was no doubt in her mind that she'd get to witness it later.

In fact, she was sporting her red and gold sweater to prove it. It wasn't any old quidditch sweater, though. It was one that Molly Weasley had made for her last summer when she broke her arm after Ginny and the boys tried to teach her how to play, deciding she looked better rooting for them on the sidelines instead. She remembered how Molly had been hesitant to present it to her—like a sweater made from the woman's own hands wasn't all she had wanted after seeing the ones she'd made for Fred and George. I thought you could wear it when you cheer on our boys, she'd said, knowing how close the girl was with her twin sons, and Y/N would never forget the beaming smile on her face when she nearly cried at the sight of it. She had worn that sweater with unbeatable pride ever since.

When Y/N approached the Gryffindor table, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the twins were all wearing their team sweaters and she couldn't help but grin as she slipped onto the bench beside George. "Lovely day so far, isn't it?" she hummed as she sidled up to the boy, her thigh and shoulder pressing into his own, and despite the flip of her stomach and the fluttering of her heart, she blamed it on wanting to be closer to the group as a whole. A few of their eyes flitted to her as she settled in and soft greetings filtered from their mouths at her presence.

George was, by far, the happiest to see her. A dreamy smile spread across his lips as he looked at her, his little heart pattering when her first instinct was to invade his personal space. He didn't mind in the slightest, of course, and to prove it, he slipped his arm behind her and grabbed her hand. "I reckon it'll get better after the match," he replied, totally oblivious, in true Weasley fashion, to the way her cheeks flushed as she intertwined her fingers with his. The gesture was so normal for them that he barely thought anything of it and none of their friends seemed to question it, either.

Fred, who might've looked like his twin save for the shape of his nose and a couple of scars in random places, seemed a lot more invested in the game. "Yeah," he agreed confidently, crossing his arms on the tabletop. "'M sure the Ravenclaws'll soil themselves after we whip 'em on the pitch," he added, a crooked smile settled on his lips and Y/N couldn't help but laugh. "And someone's going to catch the snitch for us tonight, too, eh, Harry?" The older twin jutted his chin out towards the boy, whose dark eyebrows lifted slightly at his name.

Harry's green eyes darted between Y/N and Fred, before he nodded his head. "Oh, yeah, yeah," he said, his expression flickering from surprised to something more certain—more confident. "Cho is a great seeker, but I'm afraid I'm a bit better," he joked, a smile playing on his lips and Ginny scoffed from beside him, throwing a lock of her bright red hair over her shoulder.

"Bit cocky this morning, are we?" Ginny asked teasingly and Y/N could see the way that Harry's pale cheeks prickled with pink. Fred let out a loud laugh. She glanced over at George who fought a small chuckle and she couldn't help but do the same when she realized they had the same thought. She tilted her head down to hide her amusement as George's thumb brushed over the back of her hand, wondering how two people could be so oblivious.

Ron, on the other hand, didn't seem quite as enthused at their exchange as everybody else. "Don't think anyone asked your input," he muttered, his mouth filled with half of his biscuit, and a couple of crumbs fell from his lips as he spoke. Y/N's eyebrows lifted as they fell on the tabletop and she opened her mouth to make a quip about it, but the moment passed and Hermione took it upon herself to swat Ron in the arm. "Ow, what was that—"

In the middle of his moaning, Hermione cut him off with a sharp look. "She's your sister. Be nice, Ronald," she instructed in a motherly tone, before letting her eyes settle on his mouth. It was dusted in pieces of his biscuit and she shook her head at him in disappointment, but annoyance soon took over. "And where are your manners?" she chided.

"Yeah, Ronald. You're lucky mum's not her to wack you with the dishrag, but from the looks of it, you might get a book to the head instead," Ginny piped up again, referring to the dog-earred novel that sat next to Hermione's plate of food, and the group erupted into laughter. Y/N threw her head against George's shoulder, laughing into him, and she could feel the rumble of his chest as he let out his own chortles.

Even Hermione was giggling, but Ron got so flustered, even his ears turned pink. "Oh, shut it, Ginevra," he whined, after swallowing his foot for once. "I hope you fall off your broom during the game," he told her and Ginny hadn't been too far off, because Hermione picked up her book and gave him a good smack in the shoulder. His head whipped to the girl beside him and he gave her an offended look, lifting his hand to rub his shoulder, before he looked at Y/N. "The abuse I get from this one. George is lucky that you're so passive," he muttered and she nearly felt her heart stop in her chest.

The breath felt like it'd gotten sucked right out of her lungs and her eyes widened. She looked over at George when she couldn't find the words to speak for herself and she found his cheeks nearly as red as Ron's had been before. "What's that supposed to mean, Ronnykins?" he asked, making a halfhearted attempt at a silly nickname to keep the mood light and it only partially worked.

Either way, it had bought Y/N enough time to get over her initial shock of the question. "George and I are friends, of course, he's lucky," she hummed. "But you and 'Mione are what, exactly?" she asked, taking pleasure in the way that she directed the spotlight to him instead, and Ron seemed to sink into himself. Y/N and George laughed after that, but he couldn't help but let her words bobble around in his head.

Friends.

—

Sometimes, it was a little scary how good Fred Weasley was at predicting the outcome of quidditch games. It was like the game ran in his blood, and considering how he and George played on the field, maybe it did. He was the sole reason why a Gryffindor win never came as a surprise to Y/N, and this one was no different. When Harry had disappeared beneath the bleachers with Cho Chang, in a race for the snitch, the crowd had fallen silent, waiting with bated breath.

She knew it was impossible, but she liked to think that every time Harry's fingers wrapped around that winged ball, she could feel it in her very soul. When he'd flown out from underneath one of the Ravenclaw stands waving his fist in the air and flashes of gold streaked through his glove, she wasn't the least bit surprised. In fact, she called it instinct.

With Gryffindor already in the lead and the snitch in Harry's fingers, the win was official. Y/N could feel it radiating through her body, chills spreading through her limbs, and through the rest of their house, triumphant uproar filling her ears as soon as the game was called to a close.

Merlin, she loved quidditch. Especially that part, where the whole school would watch in suspense, and then when the snitch was caught, it would be absolute chaos.

As a cheer ripped itself from Y/N's own lungs, loud enough to make her throat raw, and her eyes surveyed the team on their victory lap, looking for her favorite troublemaker, she figured that maybe she just liked the chaos. She stood up on her seat when she spotted his flash of red hair beside his brother, identifying him by the hook in his nose, and she knew he'd seen her when he lifted his hand in a wave. She grinned back at him, flailing her arm in the air, and when he and Fred made their way to her side of the pitch, they shouted her name in passing. She just laughed and shook her head as they flew by.

Y/N took it upon herself to meet the team down on the bottom of the pitch after they'd landed and everyone else had dispersed, heading back to their common rooms to either wallow in the loss or, in Gryffindor's case, relish in that fantastic win.

Harry was the first one she saw when she stepped onto the grassy field, his dark hair matted to his sweaty forehead and his green eyes glittering with the satisfaction of securing the win, and she let out a squeak when they locked eyes. So worked up with pride for her house and her beautifully athletic friends, she couldn't keep herself from skipping up to him excitedly. "Harry," she said firmly, clapping him on the shoulders while he looked at her with a smile. "You, my friend," she paused, pointing a finger at his chest, "are bloody brilliant," she said, lifting that same hand to tweak his nose and he laughed.

Ron, who was standing only a couple of feet away, made his way over, a small laugh spilling from his lips, and Ginny wasn't far behind. "You know, if you weren't so clumsy, I bet you'd make a great captain, Y/N/N," the redhead teased and her eyes darted over to him. His fingers were wrapped around the handle of his broom and he was so sweaty, his robes were clinging to his skin.

Y/N broke out into a smile at the keeper. "Yeah, well, I think we all remember what happened over summer," she said and Ginny chuckled from the side. "See?" She jutted her thumb over towards the girl and locked their elbows together.

Ginny looked over at her with a small shrug. "S'okay. I think we'd all crash and burn if we didn't have you cheering us on every match, anyways," she said, earning nods of agreement from the boys and Y/N rolled her eyes.

"Oh, whatever." She patted Ginny's hand with her own, before she took a look around. "Anyone seen the boys?" she asked, her eyes flitting back to the three and Harry nodded towards them. Fred and George were off to the side a couple of feet, talking with Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson. Fred's broom was propped against his side and his hands were stretched out in front of him, a smile wide on his face as he spun up one of his stories. Y/N let out a huff of amusement. "Well, I'm gonna go congratulate them on the win, but you guys did amazing," she said, sliding her arm out of Ginny's and letting her eyes bounce off of all of them. "See you later." And with that, and a couple of quiet goodbyes, she was off towards the twins.

Y/N could see Angelina smile and nod at her as she ran excitedly towards the group and George spun around to meet her eyes. His red hair was damp with sweat, tucked behind his ears to keep it from falling into his eyes, and his skin glistened with the glow of a good game. She adored post-match George, he was prettier than usual. "Hello, darling," he hummed, making her heart melt in her chest, and he held his arms out to her. "Come to gush over us, have you?" he teased, but she hardly even registered it as she threw her arms around his shoulders. George wasn't even fazed by the impact—as this was something she did after every match, win or lose—and he lifted her up off of the ground, giving her waist a good squeeze before he set her back on her feet.

"Oh, I absolutely did," she said, pulling out of his arms so she could look at the other three, but he managed to keep an arm around her waist. "You all did so good, I'm so proud," she hummed. "You two and Alicia were marvelous. I mean, those last few scores were beautiful," she said, making the girls all bashful. "And Fred—" she started, but George couldn't help but look down at Y/N as she praised them all, warmth spreading through his chest at the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about the game, her words fading out for him.

Y/N was no different than she usually was after they'd won, but he often forgot how endearing she was when she rambled on about something she was passionate about. George curled his fingers slightly and brushed the tips along her side softly, watching her curiously as she went through their plays. Part of him hated that they were so close, because it made the frequent urges to kiss her to much harder to ignore. She was with him all the time and it was all he thought about anymore, even though he knew that just one peck might ruin everything. He was so certain that she thought of him as nothing more than a best friend that he kept it to himself.

Well, himself and Fred.

It was so bad sometimes that Fred would have to smack him to draw him back to reality.

George's train of thought came to a screeching halt when Y/N turned towards him. She always saved him for last, which he didn't mind. In fact, it made him feel more special, because she'd focus all her attention on him, then, and he'd get to walk her back to the common room. "And George—bloody hell—when you saved Alicia from that bludger, I nearly lost my voice. That was so badass," she said.

He could feel his stomach swirling with joy and his cheeks heating up at her words, and he caught Fred wiggling his eyebrows from over Y/N's head. That git, he thought to himself, but he kept his smile for her. "You think?" he asked and she nodded her head quickly. "Well, since we've all got something to celebrate, then," he paused, looking at Fred and the girls with a mischievous grin, "I propose we break out a bit of the Ogden's," he suggested.

Y/N looked up at him with a gaze that made his insides turn to mush. "I would be thoroughly disappointed if you didn't," she hummed, glancing between him and his brother.

Fred laughed, running a hand through his sweaty hair. "Well, that settles it," he said.

—

Hermione watched Y/N throw yet another sweater on her bed, as if she hadn't already emptied her entire trunk onto her mattress, and she let out a sigh. She was already dressed, but Y/N seemed to be having a hard time picking out her own outfit. "Why don't you just wear that green sweater? Not very suiting for a Gryffindor win, but you know George loves you in anything," she stated, walking over to the girl's bed and lifting up a forest green, cable-knitted sweater.

Y/N shot her an incredulous look, still leaning halfway into her trunk, and her lips parted slightly. "What in Godric's name would George have to do with my outfit?" she asked, even though they both knew good and well that she wanted to look nice for the younger twin. It was too bad that she had a hard time admitting it to herself, let alone her friends. Maybe it was because she usually felt like a lost cause with him. She was so far up friendship's ass with George, she really didn't see any hope of climbing out.

"Fine," Hermione sighed, folding the sweater neatly and setting it back on the bed with the rest of Y/N's bunched up clothing. "You're probably going to get hot with the fire and that alcohol in your system, so," she paused, letting her eyes dart from one piece of clothing to another, until she picked out the perfect outfit, "how about you try this on? If you don't like it, we can default to the sweater," she suggested, holding up a pair of ripped, boyfriend jeans and a dark red tank top with lacy detailing. "You could wear it with your sneakers, too, so you're still comfortable," she added.

Y/N got up off of her knees and took in the outfit. She'd always been to self-conscious to throw it on without a shirt underneath or a cardigan, but what was better than wearing it in the comforts of her own common room, where everyone was about to get too plastered to care, anyways? She took the clothes from Hermione, running her fingers over the fabric and she glanced up at the girl. She knew she would probably regret the words that were about to come out of her mouth, but it wasn't like her feelings were ever that much a secret to anyone. "You reckon he'll like it?" she asked hesitantly.

A warm smile spread across Hermione's lips, feeling a bit honored that Y/N had trusted her with somewhat of a confession, and she nodded. "You'll look beautiful, Y/N/N. I'll wait for you on the stairs while you change, then, and we can walk in together, okay?" she asked and Y/N nodded.

Hermione turned to leave, but Y/N stopped her before she could, giving her wrist a gentle squeeze. "Thank you," she said. "I don't know what I'd do without you sometimes," she mumbled and the girl smiled.

"I know," she teased, walking out of the room with a wink and leaving Y/N to get dressed.

The second Hermione left her to her own devices, she cast a quick spell to tidy up her mess of clothes and drop them back in her trunk. After that was settled, she shimmied out of her game-day outfit and pulled on the one Hermione had chosen for her instead. She felt a lot more self-conscious than usual, after she'd been wearing a sweater all day, but she got over it quickly when she glanced in the mirror. She'd done her hair and makeup before she'd looked for an outfit, so she wouldn't have had to worry about it, and looking at herself, now, she knew she'd made a good choice.

A half-smile settled on her lips as she studied herself in the mirror, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, and she turned, looking over her shoulder to check how her backside looked in her jeans. The jeans were snug in all the right places and she couldn't help but hope that her favorite twin might notice, as well. "Oh, yes," she hummed to herself with satisfaction, before she walked over to her nightstand. She slipped a couple of gold rings onto her fingers and popped in a pair of hoops.

Once she was all finished, she made her way out of the room, only to find Hermione waiting on the top step, just like she'd said she'd be. "Bloody hell," Hermione muttered when Y/N made herself known, her lips parting slightly as she took in her outfit.

Y/N's eyebrows lifted at Hermione's reaction and she felt the sudden urge to fold in on herself. She glanced down at herself and brushed her hands over her exposed stomach. "How do I look?" she asked, a sheepish smile spreading across her face.

"Stupid," Hermione hummed and Y/N's eyes widened, "because you ever even worried. You look gorgeous," she complimented and the girl felt her cheeks flush. "C'mon, let's go show you off," she said, grabbing her hand and starting down the stairs.

Y/N could feel her heart hammering in her chest, sudden nervousness prickling underneath her skin, and she almost wanted to turn and hightail it back up that staircase, but she didn't. She let Hermione lead her into the common room, where all the other Gryffindors were already dispersed throughout, talking with their friends or on their way to making new ones. She felt her nerves dissolve when her eyes met George's across the room. He looked like he'd showered since the game, as the dirt and the sweat were long gone, leaving his hair all shiny and fluffy. She had to fight the urge to go over and thread her fingers through it when he smiled at her. She was about to tell Hermione she'd catch up with her later, before the girl pulled her hand away.

She looked at Y/N with bright eyes, glancing at Ron, Harry, and Ginny, who were immersed in conversation by the designated snack table. "I know you probably want to talk to George, but I still wondered if you'd be mad if I went with Ron and Harry?" she asked and Y/N was almost relieved that she'd beat her to the chase.

She shook her head quickly and gestured over to them. "No, not at all, 'Mione," she said, urging her over there. "I'm sure we'll merge with you guys sooner or later, so I'm not worried. Go get him," she finished with a wink, not missing the way that Hermione's cheeks flared. Her mutual feelings with Ron were anything but subtle, so she liked to tease the girl about it with every chance she got, but she knew they'd never act on it until they admitted it to themselves.

Once Hermione mumbled a goodbye and walked away, Y/N's eyes snapped back to George, who'd started making his way over to her as soon as Hermione left. She felt herself smile and she moved to meet him halfway, taking in his outfit as she did. He was wearing a sweater that his mom made for him, a navy one with the letter 'G' stitched in gold on the front, and a pair of jeans. It was simple, but something about it made her heart skip a beat when the distance had been closed between them.

George's free hand, the other occupied by a drink, came to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer to him by the small of her back, and he let out a loud wolf whistle. "Well, don't you look absolutely stunning tonight, darling," he complimented, making a show of brushing her hair out of her face to see her earrings and holding one of her hands up to check out her rings. Usually, he'd be more embarrassed about being so forward, but with the familiar buzz of firewhisky already tingling in his fingers, he didn't really care.

Especially not as Y/N's cheeks turned about as red as her top, and she leaned forward. She wrapped her arms around his torso and buried her face in his sweater, laughing softly in slight embarrassment. "Thank you, Georgie," she said, looking up at him once she felt her cheeks lighten up, and he smiled down at her. "You don't look too shabby yourself," she complimented, plucking at his sweater as she pulled away, and she watched a crooked smile curve onto his lips.

"What d'you mean, Y/N/N?" George hummed teasingly, patting his own cheek. "I always look devilishly handsome," he added and she rolled her eyes up at him. He took it as a win when she didn't explicitly deny it. He set one hand on her bicep and let it trail down to her wrist softly, while he emptied the contents of his cup into his mouth with the other. "Anyways, I'm gonna go refill. Did you want me to grab you a drink?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Sure, I'll wait for you over there," she hummed, pointing to the wall on the other side of the room where George had come from before. Angelina and some of the other chasers were gathered in front of it, as beautiful as ever, and Y/N figured she might say hello.

George nodded at her request. "Be right back," he told her, giving her hand a squeeze, before he slipped away. She found herself missing their close proximity as soon as he left, taking the warmth of his body with him, and she half-wondered if she should just follow him to the drink table. She didn't want to give anyone any ideas about them, though, so she stuck with her original plan and made her way over to the fireplace, where Katie, Alicia, and Angelina were all huddled together.

Alicia was the first to notice her, a bright smile stretching across her pretty, pink mouth, and she tucked a tuft of her chocolate hair behind her ear. "Well, well, well," she hummed, her brown eyes scanning the length of Y/N's body, and she stepped towards her with her hand on her hip. "Somebody looks hot," she drew on with a grin, reaching out to welcome her with a side hug.

Y/N could feel her face get warm again at the comment, as she wasn't used to such attention, and she returned the side hug. "Says you," she retaliated, taking in the black tube top and red, leather skirt that Alicia sported herself. She took in the girl's dark eye makeup and glossy lips, and if she wasn't so into George, she might've had some questions for herself. "You're a total smoke show," she said and the brunette laughed. She pulled away from Alicia and her eyes landed on Katie, in her maroon jumpsuit, and Angelina, with her sparkly, gold, minidress. "Good Godric, you all are," she corrected herself, a beaming smile gracing her face when she took in how pretty her friends were.

"Thank you, Your Hotness," Alicia slurred, her cheeks a little pink from the Ogden's and it finally clicked why she seemed so forward. Y/N laughed and crossed her arms over her chest. "I was disappointed that I didn't get to see you after the game, but I heard ol' George whisked you away," she teased, waggling her eyebrows and eliciting yet another giggle from the girl.

Angelina threw her arm over Y/N's shoulder and leaned into her, while Katie did the same to Alicia. She braced herself against her shoulder, tipping her drink to her lips before speaking. "Yeah, speaking of your little boytoy," Angelina hummed, making Katie almost snort. "Honestly, I don't understand how he's more than three feet away from you, right now, you look so good," she said.

Y/N couldn't help from glancing over her shoulder at that, looking at the refreshment table for George, but she couldn't seem to find him, so she turned back. "Well, he was supposed to be getting me a drink, but I feel like he's taking a bit long," she said, her heart sinking slightly. Sometimes she liked or when they poked fun at her about her relationship with George, because if people noticed, maybe that meant he felt something for her, too. Times like now, though, where she felt like it was impossible for him to look at her as anything other than a sister, not so much. "Plus, it's not really like that between George and I, you know? We're good friends is all," she added, ignoring the way it almost hurt her to admit it.

None of the girls seemed to buy into that, though. Especially not Katie. "Not like that, my arse, Y/N/N," she said. "Friends don't look at each other the way you two do. I mean, the both of you are so clueless, it hurts," she continued, putting her hand over her heart and letting her head lull back as she let out an exaggerated groan.

Alicia nodded, seconding Katie's words. "Honestly. Plus, friends aren't all over each other the way you two are, either," she said. "I mean, I think it might kill him to go a day without holding your hand, or brushing your hair behind your ear, or touching you," she explained and Y/N felt queasy all of the sudden.

They were right. Normal friends didn't look at each other or touch each other in the ways that Y/N and George did, but they weren't just normal friends. They were best friends. George was her moon and stars at this point and she would never, ever hesitate to give him the world if he'd asked it of her, but what happened between them—every glance, every touch, every word—was strictly platonic.

Right?

Y/N didn't have time to respond before a familiar voice piped up from behind her. "Hey, ladies," Fred, she found when she looked over her shoulder, sing-songed as he made his way over to them. His eyes were focused mainly on Angelina, a soft smirk playing on his lips as he drank her in, before he let his eyes flicker between them all. "Mind if I steal our lovely little Y/N away for a bit? I've got matters to discuss with her," he said, winking at Angelina when they locked eyes again, and he watched the girl remove her arm from around Y/N.

"Just bring her back in one piece. We know you've got a habit for blowing things up," Angelina teased.

She nudged Y/N in Fred's direction and he donned a look of mock offense. "I'd never hurt a hair on her pretty head," he said, before letting a grin stretch out onto his lips. Y/N rolled her eyes at his theatrics and stepped closer to him, nodding at him in a silent way of saying she was ready. "Bye, Angie." He flicked his eyebrows at her in farewell, waiting for her to give him a flirty wave off, before he followed Y/N.

She stopped when they were out of the girls' earshots and she rested her back against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked over at Fred. "Am I in trouble, Freddie?" she asked in a teasing tone.

Fred looked down as her words pulled a quiet chuckle from his mouth. He placed his forearm on the wall above their heads as he settled in next her, leaning against it so he could just face her instead of leaning his back on the wall like she was. "Well, dear Y/N, that depends on how you look at it," he told her and she raised her eyebrows in question. He leaned forward as if to be more secretive. "I'm sure you'd be happy to know Georgie's not taken his eyes off of you since you walked in," he explained in a whisper, and she felt her cheeks turn pink.

Fred pulled away as she blushed, laughing to himself. She lifted one of her hands to her cheek, feeling how warm it was beneath her fingertips. "Shut up, you git. That was mean," she tried to hiss, but a laugh ultimately bubbled out of her lips.

He shrugged his shoulders and took a drink from his cup, his signature smirk still lingering on his face. "I wasn't teasing you that time, but whether you believe me or not is up to you. I wanted to talk to you about something else, anyways," he said, moving on from the topic of his brother. He took his hand off the wall and he shifted his weight, something near to nerves settling in his stomach. "Look, I'm sure you've picked up on how I feel about Angelina, yeah?" he asked.

"No." Y/N pretended to look surprised, letting her jaw drop as she let out a dramatic gasp. She got her bit of fun out of the way before Fred shot her a look and she cut it out. "I have," she admitted, on a more serious note, with a small shrug.

He nodded once. "Well, I wanted to make a move tonight and I think you should be the one to help me."

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at that, tucking her hands into her back pockets. "And how do you want me to do that?" She asked and Fred's face lit up as he explained his plan. "Well, you'll have to get me a drink or two first."

"That, I can manage," he hummed, already holding the rest of his out for her.

—

George had just finished pouring himself and Y/N new cups of firewhisky when a group of other Gryffindors rushed to the table for the same reason. Feeling almost lucky that he'd finished when he did, he lifted their cups up off of the tabletop and maneuvered himself around them. His eyes trailed along the wall where she said she'd be at, making sure he could pick her out in the crowd, and his heart nearly fluttered out of his chest when he did.

Y/N was standing in front of the fireplace and she looked enchanting, even with Angelina Johnson hanging off of her shoulder. Her hair fell in pin straight sheets over her bare shoulders and the fire behind her created an outline of golden light behind her. If George had been any drunker, he might've mistaken her for an angel, honestly. He watched her mouth break out into a smile, a laugh that he couldn't hear from so far away bubbling from her lips, and he was about to make his way over to her, when Lee Jordan stepped in front of him.

"Georgie, my man," Lee said, beaming as he held up two shot glasses filled with a clear liquid. "Let's knock back a quick one," he suggested, holding one of them out to the redhead.

George was almost disappointed by his offer, letting out a sigh. He'd only talked to Y/N for a minute or two before he'd left her earlier, and right now, he was more focused on getting back to her than getting sloshed. "Lee, I'm sorry, but I was just about to—" he cut himself off when his eyes flickered back to Y/N and she wasn't there anymore. His eyebrows furrowed quickly, wondering where she'd gone so quickly, before his eyes wandered further down the wall and his stomach dropped. Her back was leaned against the wall while Fred, his own brother, stood next to her with his hand propped over their heads. He was whispering something in her ear, and George just knew he wouldn't like it when he saw how pink her cheeks got. Hot jealousy bubbled up inside of his chest and his eyes flickered back to Lee. "You know what, yeah. Let's do it," he hummed, repositioning the cups so he was holding them by the rims in one hand.

"That's what I'm talking about," Lee grinned and he held up one of the shot glasses, which George took more than eagerly, now. "On three?" he questioned and George nodded. "Right. One. Two," he counted, but in the place of 'three', he and George threw back their shots and swallowed them.

The liquid was bitter as it trailed down George's throat, but he knew the taste of vodka well enough to not ask Lee what it was. He'd had it so many times, he'd hardly flinched, either. "Here, Lee. Thanks," he hummed, passing the boy his glass back, and Lee nodded. George was about to excuse himself and walk over to Fred and Y/N. What he'd say, he wasn't really sure, but he didn't get the chance to think about it before his thoughts were interrupted.

"Alright, alright," a familiar, feminine voice shouted at the top of their lungs, quieting the entire common room in a matter of seconds. His eyes flickered to the center of the room where his very own Y/N stood on top of a table, with a drink he hadn't seen her with before and her hands held up in the air. He wanted to be angry at her, for talking with his brother over him, but she wasn't with him, now, so maybe he'd just chalk it up to bad timing on his end. She looked really beautiful, though, with her cheeks flushed because all the attention had shifted to her and her hair tied back in a low pony tail, something she'd probably done when he took his shot. "Who's up for some spin the bottle?" she yelled, before the common room erupted into roars.

George laughed to himself and he started towards her.

Things were about to get interesting.

-

At this point in the evening, the Gryffindor common room and everyone in it had been divided into two groups: those who were going to play spin the bottle, and those who wanted to keep partying on their own. Y/N, George, and all of their friends—with a couple of others sprinkled into the mix—had gathered on the half of the room intent on participating, all sat on the carpet in a tight circle. Everyone's knees were brushing against each other, all their cheeks flushed pink from the firewhisky, and excited smiles sat on all of their faces. "I'm going to assume that everyone knows how to play," Fred said as he placed an empty bottle of Ogden's Old in the center of the circle, having taken it upon himself to lead the pack after Y/N pretended the entire thing was her idea. Why he couldn't have just suggested it himself was beyond her.

George—who sat on the opposite side of the circle from Y/N, much to his dismay—chuckled and he leaned back onto the palms of his hands. "I'm sure if they don't, they'll pick it up quick," he hummed, and murmurs of agreement spread around the circle. The rules of the game were simple, really. Someone would the chain and spin the bottle, share a kiss with whoever it landed on, and then, the person they kissed would spin the bottle and the cycle would continue. As he waited for Fred to reclaim his spot in the circle, he knew exactly who he wanted his bottle to land on, but he wouldn't admit it for anything. "Who's first, then?" he asked, his eyes flitting around everyone, and his eyes locked with Y/N's for a moment. His heart melted when she flushed him that kind smile of hers and he managed one back.

Y/N couldn't help but be slightly disappointed that George had never returned with her drink earlier, as that meant her time with him had been cut short. She'd been hoping Fred's game might've changed that, but when she'd ended up sitting across from him, her hopes had dwindled. They still weren't too high, because the odds of her spin landing on him were about one in thirteen.

"I think Y/N/N should be the first to go, since this was her idea," Fred chimed from her left. He was lucky that Dean and Neville were positioned between the two of them or she probably would've punched him on the leg. Since she couldn't reach him from where she was sitting, she settled for a glare instead. He only smiled all-but-innocently in return. She had an inkling that this wasn't just about him and Angelina, after all.

Seamus, who was seated on her right, nodded. "It only seems fair, yeah?" he seconded. If only Y/N had known him better, because she wanted to punch him, too.

When the rest of the Gryffindors came to the same decision, Y/N sighed, deciding to give in. "Fine, if you all insist," she said and she reached up to tuck her framing strands of hair behind her ears. She leaned forward and reached into the middle of the circle, trying her hardest not to just stare straight up at George like she was dying to do, and she gave the bottle a good whirl. The second she did, her heart felt like it might jump out of her chest, but when she straightened up again, she tried to keep her cool. Part of her wanted for the bottle to land on George, so she could get the thought of kissing him out of her head, finally, but the other part of her prayed it didn't.

Who knew what a kiss could do to a friendship like theirs?

The group fell silent when the bottle started to slow down and Y/N knew that she wasn't the only one holding her breath. It wasn't until the neck passed George and land on Harry, who sat a few people down from him, did she feel like she could breathe again. Relief washed over her at the fact that whatever she had with George was preserved for a little bit longer, and also because she wouldn't have to kiss anyone too eager.

Harry was the happy medium: cute, respectful, and uncomplicated.

A couple of their friends oohed at the outcome and Y/N couldn't help but grin at the green-eyed boy. "Fancy a peck, Potter?" she asked, ignoring the feeling of George's eyes on her, and she watched as Harry nodded. The corners of his mouth were pulled up in an amused smile and he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Y/N stood up and made her way over to him, before leaning down. She placed her hands on either sides of the Chosen One's face. She quirked her eyebrows up as if to ask if he was ready and he nodded once in response. With that, she pressed a small kiss to his lips. It was short, sweet, and she laughed softly when it was over. "We good?" she questioned, pulling her hands away.

Harry laughed. "We're brilliant," he hummed, before Y/N returned to her spot. He was next to spin the bottle. George hardly even registered it when Harry kissed Alicia next, as he still felt nauseous from watching Y/N kiss someone else. He knew that it was just a silly game amongst friends and that he really had no say in who she kissed or didn't kiss, but it didn't change the fact that it bothered him a little. Y/N, on the other hand, couldn't help but smile when Alicia spun next and wound up kissing Neville. The look on his round face after she'd sat back down beside Ron was just adorable. She swore that girl had left him with stars in his eyes. It was even more precious when Neville's turn landed him a kiss with Hermione.

It was less cute, though, when Hermione spin the bottle and it stopped right on George. The smile that Y/N had been sporting seemed to fall right off of her face, dropping to her feet, along with her stomach. Hermione glanced over at her and smiled awkwardly, knitting her eyebrows together in a way that showed her guilt, but Y/N waved it off. It was just a game. Even so, Y/N wouldn't deny the relief she felt when Hermione chose to kiss him on the cheek, instead.

When it was George's turn to step up, all eyes were on him, including Y/N's. Her mouth felt dry as she watched him from across the circle, his long fingers grabbing the empty bottle, and she swallowed thickly when his eyes flickered to hers. His lips quirked up in a half-smile and he winked at her as he twirled the bottle. She watched in anticipation as it circled around, choosing its next victim, and she was already preparing herself to watch George kiss someone like Alicia when the bottle stopped on the last person she expected.

Her.

Y/N's eyes widened, locked on that glass bottle, and the entire circle either laughed, cheered, or wolf-whistled. No fucking way, she thought to herself as her eyes snapped up to meet George's, which were blown just as wide. This was exactly the kind of opportunity that she'd been waiting for for years, now, but she felt sick to her stomach about it. She had it tangled in her thoughts that this singular moment would make or break them. She took a deep breath as George stood up, reminding herself that it was just a game, but either way, she knew she couldn't have her first kiss with him sitting down. She stood up, too, making her way to the center of the circle and meeting him halfway, her cheeks hot under the feeling of all eyes on her. She wished she'd had more to drink.

Something about George seemed off when she stepped in front of him. He wasn't passed around the school or anything, but she was aware enough to know he'd kissed girls before, but he seemed different, now. He didn't seem to know where to put his hands like he usually did and he swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did. "We don't have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable," he said to her, his eyes searching her own for anything that could give him an out.

It wasn't like he didn't want to kiss Y/N, because Merlin, did he, but after mulling it over in his head for months on end, he didn't want to throw their first one away in a drunken state. He'd always pictured it special, maybe on a day when he finally got the courage to take her to Hogsmeade. He'd take her to a bookstore, because he knew how much she liked to read, and he'd tell her how beautiful she looked when she could take her eyes off the shelves, and when she got all flustered, he'd lean in and kiss her softly. He'd had it all planned out. He'd been mistaken earlier, he figured, when he'd thought that he wanted his turn to be with Y/N, because now that it was, he was regretting joining this game entirely.

Y/N looked up at him with those big eyes that made his insides bubble and she furrowed her eyebrows up at him. "It doesn't make me uncomfortable," she promised, and to prove it, she reached out and placed her hands on either side of his neck, letting her thumbs rest on his cheeks. He resisted the urge to lean into her touch. "So, you ready to kiss me, Weasley?" she questioned, her words betraying her thoughts, and she flashed him a grin.

All of her hopefulness that, maybe, the kiss wouldn't ruin everything, broke away when George hesitated, shaking his head softly. Her smile faltered and her chest clenched. "Not really," he confessed, pouring salt in the wound.

Ouch. She forced a small laugh, ignoring the way a feeling of hurt splintered through her body. and she tilted her head up at him. "It's just a game, right? It doesn't have to mean anything," she said, hoping to coax him into something quick, because it'd be much more embarrassing if he refused to kiss her in front of all of their friends, who were so adamant on the fact that they were in love with each other. It was pretty far-fetched and awfully one-sided, apparently.

Unbeknownst to her, George was screaming at himself inside his head. He knew it was just a game, he knew it didn't have to mean anything, but bloody hell, he wanted it to. He wanted it to mean something. Y/N wasn't the kind of girl you could just kiss and forget about it. If he kissed her he'd be thinking about it until his hair turned gray. "No, Y/N/N, it doesn't feel right," he whispered, hoping she would pick up on the emotion in his voice, but he knew he'd been asking too much when he saw the look that flashed across her face. He felt awful.

So did she, but for entirely different reasons. "Why?" she whispered, tears pricking in the back of her eyes, but she swallowed the knot in her throat, because how she knew how embarrassing it would be if she cried and he didn't kiss her. "Is it just me?" she asked, her mind suddenly racing. "Is there something wrong with me, I—"

She started in on a ramble and George didn't like where it was headed, because it wasn't her. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her, it was just him. It was all in his head. He shook his head at her quickly to cut her off. "No, no, I just—" He sighed. "I don't want it like this," he confessed, a bit louder than he intended to and Y/N's eyes widened.

"What?"

George would've given anything to just stop the game at that point. He was digging a hole for himself that was gonna be real hard to climb out of. "No, I just meant—" Fucking hell. "I—"

He couldn't even finish. Y/N's hands were starting to pull themselves off of his face slightly, her fingertips the only parts of her touching him, now. Honestly, she thought she might be sick. "George, what does that mean?" she asked, not sure if he'd confirmed what everyone had been saying about them all along or if it was just freakishly bad wording.

Too bad he didn't help much with figuring it out. Instead, George shook his head at her. "It doesn't mean anything," he said. "Let's just get on with it."

Before she had a chance to say anything else, George slipped his hand over her cheek, sliding his fingertips into her hair, and he crashed his lips onto hers. When she felt the warmth of his mouth, she almost felt the world stop turning on its axis, and her hands travelled down to his chest, balling up around the fabric of his sweater as she kissed him back. Y/N's heart was soaring as George tilted her head, finding it easier to kiss her at an angle so their noses weren't brushing together. George kissed her with all the passion he could muster up, his stomach flipping as he did, because if this was going to be the first and last time he kissed her, he needed it to be good. He needed to leave her mind reeling.

A couple more seconds passed, before he forced himself to pull away. It took everything in her to keep from pulling him back in for another; their kiss had lasted the longest, anyways. She managed a small smile up at him, which he struggled to return, before they both walked back to their spots on opposite sides of the circle.

Y/N could hardly breathe as she replayed the kiss over in her head again, choosing to pass her next turn to Ginny, because the girl hadn't gone yet and she didn't think she could stomach another kiss with anyone, especially not after the one she'd just had with George. Her heart was still hammering in her ears and she felt like she was floating, still feeling the ghost of his hands in her hair, and even though she'd denied it for so long, she couldn't anymore. She was absolutely in love with that boy.

But when his earlier words settled in, she snapped out of her trance.

It doesn't mean anything.

Had he meant the kiss?

George wasn't doing much better on his side of the circle. In fact, he almost faked an illness to get out of the next round, knowing he'd be absolutely crushed if he had to watch her kiss someone else after that. The relief he'd felt when she passed it off to Ginny was insane. He didn't know where his relationship with Y/N would go from there, though. It was clear to him now that he was head over heels for her—he always had been, really—but the fact that he still couldn't get her off of his mind after a kiss just set it all in stone. He glanced up at her from across the group, his heart stuttering in his chest when he found her already looking. She flashed him that pretty smile and he panicked, averting her gaze, and he almost wanted to smack himself.

Merlin, he didn't know how he was ever gonna face her again when all he could think about was her lips.

—

When Y/N woke up the next morning, she didn't know what she expected the day would bring, but it certainly wasn't Fred sitting in the seat beside hers in Transfiguration. She had walked into the room, ready to smile at George and start talking about their mornings like they usually did, but she felt a bit nervous when she saw that he'd switched places with his brother instead. George was on the other side of the classroom, partnered with Lee Jordan for the day. He watched her as she came in, but before she could even wave, he looked away.

She furrowed her eyebrows, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach, as she walked up to her desk, earning a close-mouthed smile from Fred as she sat her bags down. "Morning. How's the head?" he asked, tapping his index finger to the side of his head and she let out a huff of amusement.

Y/N took her seat next to him and she rested her elbow on the tabletop. "Fine, I didn't drink enough for a hangover," she told him and he nodded once, flicking his quill and watching it circle around his ink pot mindlessly. "Not that complaining, but how come you're not in your normal seat today?" she asked, glancing over at George. He was already looking at her from across the room, his lips set in a slight frown, and she tried to smile at him, but his eyes flickered to his paper before she got the chance. What was with him this morning?

Fred swallowed. "Not sure," he said, though she got the feeling that he was holding back on her. "He said he and Lee were talking last night and it felt like they haven't seen each other in a bit. Wanted to trade for the day," he elaborated and she nodded.

For her sake, she hoped that what he was saying was true, but as they progressed through the day and George had switched his seat in all of the classes they had together, her hopes were dwindling. It was weird not having him there to make her laugh when the lectures got too serious, but Fred was a close second for the time being. He was just as skilled in the art of comedic relief, but he was a lot less dedicated to his assignments than George was. He would nudge Y/N with his knee and ask her for the answer so often, she finally just angled her parchment towards him.

It wasn't to say that she hadn't enjoyed her time with the oldest twin, but by the end of the day, she was more than ready to be back with George the next morning.

It was just her luck, though, that she wound up with Fred the next day, too.

And the next.

And the entire next week, actually.

It wasn't until Y/N was sitting in the library with Hermione and Ginny that she decided that she'd had enough of it. "I just don't understand what his deal is. Like we kissed, I was there, but there's no need for him to keep tiptoeing around me, you know?" she ranted, tearing her eyes away from her open textbook and leaning back in her chair. "I mean, he barely looked at me after it happened and he's barely looked at me since, and I feel weird. It just doesn't feel right to not be next to him all the time," she continued, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear and letting out a sigh. "Anyways, what was the question again?" she asked, after taking in Hermione's amused smile and Ginny's look of disgust.

"It was just about the Summoning Charm, but I think we need to wait on it," Hermione answered through a small laugh. "I thought you said you didn't mind the time away from him," she hummed, dipping her quill back into her ink pot.

Y/N let out a sigh and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, I didn't, when I thought it was for a day," she explained, her mind trailing back to that first moment of truth in Transfiguration. "He wanted to spend time with Lee and I knew it would've been selfish to act like I was his only friend, so I was fine with it, but now, he's not treating me like I'm his friend at all," she continued, emotion churning in her stomach at the fact that she hadn't spoken to him in a week and a half. Every time she tried, he just walked away before she got to him or made up an excuse to leave. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't the least bit hurt by it.

"No offense, but what made you think you'd just go back to being friends after that night?" Ginny asked, sticking a ribbon in her textbook to mark the page and flipping it shut. The girl leaned forward, resting her chin in the palm of her hand.

Her eyes widened at the question. "I mean, it was a only a kiss."

Ginny shot her a look. "You're a right liar," she singsonged, a smirk playing on her lips, and she glanced at Hermione, who wore a similar smile. "I think you forget we were there, too. Witnessed the whole thing, actually," she said, scrunching her nose up a bit as she did, and Hermione let out a laugh. "I was a bit worried you'd rip his jumper off in front of us, if I'm being honest," she teased.

Y/N felt her face go hot and her jaw dropped. "I would not have ripped his—"

She was cut off when Ginny shot up in her seat. "Look at your face!" she whisper-yelled, in order to keep Madam Pince's attention off of them, and she pointed her finger. Her cheeks only darkened at that. "You're mad if you think your kiss was friendly. It was the most heated one in that whole game." Maybe there was a bit of truth to her words, because as she recalled, the kisses following were nothing but light-hearted pecks.

"She's got a point," Hermione joined in. "You've been in love with each other for years. I just know you poured months worth of feelings into that kiss," she said.

Y/N could feel her heart fluttering inside of her chest as they spoke and she replayed her kiss with George inside of her head. The way she'd grabbed onto his sweater and pulled him closer to her, the way his hands had been tangled in her hair, the way her toes had curled, and the way her stomach had done summersaults made so much more sense now. He'd kissed her with so much emotion, so much passion, and she'd kissed him back with equal need, just wanting him to know how much she loved him without saying the words, but maybe that's why it was bothering her so much to be apart from him now.

Because he hadn't picked up on it.

"Well, you've seen him," she said. "He's kissed girls before, so what makes me any different? Plus, he's a passionate person, maybe that's all it was," she protested, the feeling that she'd fucked everything up still swimming in her bloodstream.

The girls shot her a look. "You're different because he cares about you," Hermione said, her tone softer now. Y/N looked down at her words, her head spinning slightly as she wondered whether or not it was true, and the young witch placed a hand on top of hers. "You don't see the way he looks at you when you're not paying attention, or how he talks about you when you're not around. He's so taken with you," she explained.

Y/N wanted nothing more than to believe her, but she'd wanted this—wanted him—for so long that it seemed too good to be true. She looked up from her hand, ready to rebut her words, but Ginny stepped in before she could. "If only you could see him on holiday when you're at your parents'. Absolutely hopeless, that one," she explained, but she couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. "'Y/N loves this', 'Y/N would like that', and 'I wish Y/N was here'. Oh, and I can't forget my favorite: 'Where's the owl, I've got to write to Y/N', while he's barreling over Ron and Percy in the kitchen. It's quite funny," she explained.

Y/N's heart pattered quickly and she felt a little breathless as Ginny talked about how George was at home. "He does all that?" she asked quietly, chills spreading through her body.

Ginny nodded. "Mum can't wait until you two get together. She's dying to have another girl in the family," she explained, and Y/N couldn't help but smile. She was starting to think that even though George had always felt so far out of her reach...

Maybe he wasn't.

—

George and his possible feelings for her had stayed on Y/N's mind through the rest of her study session with the girls, and as she'd sat in the dining hall that night for dinner, she still hadn't been able to get him out of her head. She'd picked at her food with her golden fork absentmindedly, rolling a potato back and forth across her plate, and she'd barely eaten anything by the time everyone was heading back to their common rooms.

"I was thinking we'd get Snape again," Fred said as he walked with her back to the Gryffindor tower, talking to her about who he planned to slime next. She loved the guy, really, but she'd spent almost all of her time with him in the last week and a half. She'd sat with him in all of their classes, hung out with him during their free period, and he'd even taken to eating all three meals of the day with her. She knew that he was just trying to help, to take her mind off of his brother for the time being, but with the whole identical twin thing, it really just made her miss George even more.

Fred was great, but he wasn't the same. Fred wouldn't hug her so tight that all of her doubts would dissolve in thin air, or keep a protective arm around her at all times, or kiss her forehead. He wouldn't sneak into her dorm for a late night chat on her mattress, or talk about what his future would be like with her, or make her feel special like George did.

In fact, she was quite sure that Fred didn't even know her favorite color.

Y/N could still hear Fred talking, rambling on about his strategy to set up his bucket in a place where Snape walked through frequently, but she was hardly listening. She was too busy wrapped up in her thoughts, wondering why George had just completely shut her out. In the beginning, he would at least send her a longing glance or two, but now she got nothing.

It just didn't make sense, especially not after what Ginny had told her earlier.

"Does George love me?" she asked all of the sudden, the words leaving her lips before she truly had the chance to process them, and she cut Fred off mid sentence.

He nearly tripped over his own two feet, before he looked over at her and laughed softly. "Does George, my idiot brother, love you, the girl he spends all his bloody time with?" he asked, making pointing gestures with his hands and furrowing his eyebrows slightly. She nodded at him, pressing her lips into a thin line. "Are you blind? 'Course he loves you," he assured her like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and it could've been, honestly. He was a bit surprised that she'd even asked at all, but then again, he forgot how clueless she was on her own.

Y/N let out a sigh at Fred's answer, because it wasn't worded the way she'd wanted it to be, not that she knew what that was, but it just didn't satisfy her. "No," she groaned, running a frustrated hand through her hair as they walked. "I mean, is he in love with me?" she asked, looking over at him with pleading eyes.

Fred shot her a look, before he nodded once. "Yeah," he hummed with no hesitation and she felt her heart rate pick up. "I know what you meant," he elaborated, and she blinked at him, forcing her gaze to where they were walking again

"Really?" she asked quietly, almost breathlessly, and Fred nodded again. "Ginny wasn't lying?"

"Guess not," the redhead hummed, scratching the back of his neck. "I mean, everyone knows. We've known you two were mad for each other for a while now. I've got bets on when you're getting together," he confessed, a teasing tone laced in his voice, and her eyes widened. Had she really had him this whole time? She wanted to hang her head against the wall for being so oblivious. If she had known sooner, she might've done something about it.

It might've been too late, now, though.

She'd gone and muddied everything up.

Y/N swallowed thickly. "If that's true, why's he been ignoring me lately?" she asked.

Fred looked over at her with tender eyes and a small smile. He'd been expecting her to ask that for a while now, but it was about time. "Look," he started as they started up the stairs in the corridor. "George isn't so strong and courageous like me, you know," he started, not seriously, but it still made her roll her eyes. "He's nervous and soft-hearted, which I'm sure you've picked up on." She definitely had. He was definitely a gentler force than Fred, like a soft rain to his brother's thunderstorm. "He gets his feelings hurt easier, he overthinks things, and he's so very oblivious, love. Sometimes you just need to tell him what's on your mind straight up," he said as he led her up to the portrait of the Fat Lady. He muttered the password to her and she swung open for them. "This is one of those times."

She wasn't really sure what Fred had meant by all of that. All she'd done was kiss George in the midst of a stupid, teenage game, she didn't understand how she might've hurt his feelings or made him feel like she didn't want to be around him, because that was all she wanted. All the time, too. She nodded her head, regardless, and followed the boy through the portrait hole. "So, what am I supposed to do?" she asked as they walked further into the common room. She was about to get her answer from Fred when someone slammed a book shut. Her eyes flickered to the couch in front of the fireplace where George seemed to have been studying.

George had been there all night, waiting for her to come back from dinner. He'd decided that morning that he was sick of wallowing in his thoughts about what had happened all those days ago and he missed talking to her, missed being with her. It'd been painful for him to watch her spend all of her time with his brother instead of him, like it should've been, especially when they'd looked so cozy together at the party, but as he watched them walk in together, her cheeks just as pink as they had been that night, irrational anger spread through his body.

He'd closed his textbook loudly and stood up, no longer in the mood to speak to her, or Fred, for that matter.

Y/N's eyebrows furrowed and her lips parted as George stormed past in a fit of anger, her protests lost on her tongue, and she swiveled back towards Fred. She'd never seen George like that, and she wanted to call after him, but she couldn't find the words so quickly, and she didn't want to just abandon Fred, but—

He cut her thoughts short with a nod towards the portrait hole as George disappeared through it. "Go. Tell him how you feel," he encouraged her, sending a sudden wave of confidence through her body. It spread through her nerves and left goosebumps in its wake, and she nodded.

Y/N flashed Fred a small smile, before she took off after George.

—

Y/N wasn't quite sure how George had gotten so far in such little time—she'd chalk it up to his long legs, maybe—but when she found him, he was pacing back and forth in an empty corridor a few floors beneath the tower, carding his fingers through his red hair as he immersed himself in his thoughts. He hardly even noticed she was there until she stepped a bit closer to him. "What the hell is your problem, George Weasley?" she started, the confidence that had been building up when she'd come after him having turned into pent-up annoyance.

His eyes shot up from the floor and he rolled his eyes when he registered that it was her. "You know what?" he asked breathlessly, more to himself than her, and he let out a bitter laugh. "You're my bloody problem, Y/N," he snapped and it was like a lash from a whip.

She flinched at his words, feeling the sting despite the distance between them, and all of that fire she'd had a moment ago dissipated. In all of the time that she'd known him, he had never spoken to her like that, even when he was angry at her, he'd never called her the problem. He'd never jabbed at her like that. Her eyebrows furrowed and her chest clenched as she looked at him, his face contorted in exasperation. "I'm your problem?" she asked, her surprise masking the hurt. "I don't even know what I did to you," she continued, acutely aware of how hard her heart was racing and how knotted up her stomach felt.

George wasn't doing much better. He was quick to shove the sleeves of his uniform up to his elbows in frustration, bringing his hands to his tie and loosening it up, because he felt so warm all of the sudden. He knew he was being stupid and overreacting at something that probably wasn't even happening, but he'd planted this seed in his own head at the party and he couldn't get it out. He'd made a mistake switching seats with Fred that day, because seeing his twin make her laugh like he did stung. It was like he'd provided her with his own bloody replacement. He hated it.

It wasn't her fault that Fred inevitably became everyone's favorite after some measure of time, but he figured that for Y/N, maybe it'd been the couple of years she'd favored George. "I haven't stopped thinking about it, Y/N, okay?" he blurted, running his hands up his face and through his hair, and he could see the look of blatant confusion on her face. She was about to open her mouth and ask him what he meant, but he beat her to it. "The kiss," he explained, "because I felt something and I thought you did, too, but then, I'd see you with Fred and I wouldn't know what to tell myself," he confessed and it made her head spin.

Y/N's eyes widened at his words and she practically gaped at him. "Wait, Fred?" she asked, almost wondering if she'd heard him right, because she hadn't even realized that Fred was a factor in this. George nodded once and she sputtered out a laugh in disbelief. "Hold on, what makes you think Fred—"

"You've been ignoring me for him for days!"

Oh, he did not.

She reeled back in disbelief, steadying herself against the side of the corridor. "Me?" she repeated, pointing to her chest. "Don't you dare try to put this on me when it was your idea to swap places with him in the first place! You've been avoiding me, you idiot," she yelled, her voice echoing through the hallway, and she would've been surprised that Filch hadn't dragged them away if she wasn't so worked up.

"How is it all my fault when you've barely reached out?" George retaliated, taking a few steps closer to her, and she wanted to pull her hair out.

"I'm not going to waste my time chasing after someone who can't stand to be near me," she explained, "And I didn't know how you expected me to fix this between us, okay?" she said, her voice cracking over the question and she sighed. She tilted her chin up so she could blink back tears, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. "I'm sorry, George," she added, all the anger in her voice having fallen away. She didn't want to fight with him anymore, she just wanted things to go back to normal, and if that meant taking the blame for the entire situation, then so be it.

George felt his heart sink at that, his eyebrows knitting together. "Wait, so you do want to be with Fred?" he asked, the volume having lowered in his voice. She shot him a look of disgust, quickly shutting down his theory about his brother. "For what, then? Kissing me? I don't understand," he continued, his stomach twisting as he spoke, because he hoped it wasn't that, either.

Y/N pushed herself off of the wall slightly, reaching out to take one of his hands in hers. Her heart took flight inside of her chest at the feeling, as it was the first time she'd touched him in what felt like forever. "What? No, I'll never be sorry for kissing you, it's just," she paused, glancing down at the space between his shoes and hers, "Ginny told me you loved me and I just— I was going to try George, I swear, but then you freaked and ran out and—" she cut herself off, pulling her hand back from his and shoving it into her hair. "I should've tried harder, I guess, and maybe—"

George hardly heard anything after he'd heard that Ginny ratted him out. With wide eyes, he couldn't help but ask, "She told you?" His throat moved as he swallowed thickly. "Godric, I'm gonna—"

"No, it's a good thing," she said quickly, pulling her hand out of her hair and holding it out in front of her almost defensively. "I'm just sorry for being so bloody clueless and too worried that you wouldn't feel the same way I did to not tell you," she confessed, and George pinched his arm behind his back to make sure he wasn't dreaming (he wasn't). "And if you're still worried about Fred, I don't care about him, okay?" she blurted, before she realized how it sounded, and her eyes widened. She covered her mouth briefly. "Okay, I do, but not like I care about you, I mean, Fred isn't even an option. Merlin, nobody else is even an option, because it's you, George. I..." she trailed off, staring up at him in search of any sign that she shouldn't say it, that she shouldn't tell him, but all she found was a look of anticipation, and she couldn't help but smile. "I love you," she whispered, tears prickling in the spaces behind her eyes, and she reached out to grab the hem of his sweater.

George didn't say anything immediately, or even for the next minute. He just took a step forward and looked at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish until he figured out what he wanted to say. "So, that's it, then?" he hummed after a while and she nodded. "You love me?" She nodded again and he smiled slightly, his heart feeling like it might explode. "I reckon I still need you to prove it," he whispered, taking another step closer to her and forcing her to take one backwards, her shoulders pressing against the wall.

She couldn't help but shake her head up at him as he slid one of his arms around her waist, her hands reaching up to cup his cheeks. His skin was warm in her palms and he leaned into her touch, his eyelids fluttering shut, and she brushed her thumbs over a spray of freckles. "I really do love you, Georgie," she whispered and his breath hitched in his throat. With that, Y/N pulled him down to press a kiss against his mouth and this kiss was less eager than the last. There was no question that this wouldn't be their final kiss together, so there was no rush.

George's lips were soft and his kiss was slow, and sweet, drawing her in with every peck. He leaned her back against the wall softly, tilting his head as his mouth slanted over her own, and he braced his arm on the wall above her. After he let her slide her fingers into his hair and thread them through it for a bit, he pulled away gently, his brown eyes staring into her own, and he smiled.

"I love you, too, darling."

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author's note / this was a long one, but i think it was worth it. tag list in the comments! :)