#I NEED MOTHER FUCKING CONTENT WITHOUT MAKING IT MYSELF

[peachesofteal]

Can we please please please get some more Simon x single mother au? Possibly him helping in the garden/ keeping emmaline out of trouble while Mom works in the garden

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 18+ mdni / mild sexual content

“Ow! fuck!”

Your hand jerks, drawing back to your mouth with a hiss. 

“What is it?” He forces himself still, staring daggers at where the tip of your finger has started to leak blood, a thick drop dripping down the side before you bring it to your mouth, lush lips wrapping around your injury. “Are you alright?” His tone is tightly controlled, even keeled, nonchalant, but on the inside, worry gnaws away at his stomach, chewing through the organ until it’s spilling free and running rampant through his body. 

“There’s a piece of glass in here.” In the garden bed? “Some of the other tenants, hang around up here at night. They usually leave bottles or cans behind.” The worry turns to anger, a simple plan slowly taking shape in his mind, a strategy to find the rooftop partiers, and ensure they never leave glass in your garden again. 

Emmaline cries, nose and brows wrinkled in irritation, and you turn to coo at her, finger still half in your mouth. 

“It’s okay, little pea. Just give me a second.” She continues to fuss, and you sigh, wilting like one of your own little flowers, left too long in the sun without water. You blink, and it’s like you’ve shed your sunlit skin for an exhausted shell. Oh, sweetheart. I know it’s hard, but you don’t have to do it on your own anymore. 

I’m here now. 

“Can I?” He asks softly, warming at how your face lights with relief. 

“Yes, please.” You point to the bottle that’s tucked in the side of the backpack, and he unbuckles her from the bouncer that you lugged up the four flights of stairs earlier, even though he had texted you an hour before and politely suggested you wait for him to be finished his phone call, so he could help you. 

You went up anyway, much to his displeasure. Displeasure, that he had to swallow, permanently. 

You’re not his. Not yet. He can’t be disappointed by resistance or refusal when you don’t even know all the ways he can be there for you yet. He knows you’ll learn. You’re a smart girl. His smart girl. 

Emmaline lays nestled in the crook of his elbow, slightly elevated on her back, and he pops the cap of the bottle easily, rubbing his index finger against her cheek to trigger the reflex that will open her mouth. When it does, he keeps it at the right angle to ensure the formula doesn’t flow too fast into her belly. 

“You’ve done this before.” You murmur, reaching into the backpack for a band aid. You’re studying him, tracing over his face, his hands that are nearly the size of your baby, and he can feel the scrutiny, the curious intensity of your gaze. 

“Had a nephew. I was around a lot, when he was this age.” He had a brother too. And a mother. A sister-in-law. A family. 

Emmaline gurgles around the nipple, and he slips it free, sitting her mostly upright, giving her a gentle pat on the back amid her protestations, little grunts that he’s sure she means as ‘feed me’ and ‘more’. He waits for you to ask him the dreaded questions, the focus on the word had, the inevitable conversation about loss and family and pain, guilt and grief that can make a man feel like he’s been buried alive. 

You don’t.

Instead, you simply say, 

“Emmaline had a dad once, too.” 

It’s nearly 2100 when you knock on his door later, baby monitor in one hand, two amber colored bottles in another. 

“Hey. You busy?” His heart does a double tap inside his chest. Bad timing, the worst. Your sweet mouth is slightly open, hopeful, teeth parted just barely to reveal a flash of tongue, and his jaw clenches against the wild need that catapults through his veins to his cock. What do you taste like? What do you feel like? You motion to the monitor. “Just went down. Figure I have about an hour before I pass out myself and could use some adult time.” Shit. The duffel bag next to the door practically speaks for him, irritatingly reminding him he has a plane to catch in less than two hours. 

“I can’t, I’m about to head out.” Your brow furrows, confusion churning into understanding within a moment, disappointment flickering across your expression before it smooths out. 

“Right. Okay.” 

“I want to.” He hurries the words. “But I travel… for work and I have to be on a flight in a few hours.” You’re already half turning away, slinking off to your apartment, giving him a soft agreement as you go. 

“Sure, yeah.” 

“Wait, sweetheart,” You startle at the pet name, eyes going wide at the inferred affection. “when I get back, let’s… have a drink.” You nod, and he smiles a real smile, barely tugging his lips upward, probably hardly visible to you. The kind of smile he’s been wearing around you these past two weeks, the kind of smile he tries to give Emmaline when she stares at him. 

“Alright, sounds good then.” Your key finds your lock, and he steps out into the hallway, trapping your gaze with his own. 

“You girls be good.” He says, a parting instruction, and a bashful, bewildered smile of your own curves across your mouth. 

“We will.”

[bitchfitch]

My mother's bf had a fairly major surgery (he's fine and recovering well DW) and he's going to be housebound for his birthday this year, so I've been enlisted to come up with a fancy birthday meal for the special birthday boy that's primarily fruit and veg, sweeter than savory, and is something he's never had before.

Bc I'm making watermelington. It's beef Wellington, but watermelon. bc my mom only found out recently you can use watermelon as a tuna substitute. And I know that you can substitute most higher quality beef cuts with tuna or salmon.... usually. Anyways the idea fascinates her so I'm hoping to use that for bonus points.

Now he's off his ass on pain killers so I can't like. Ask him if he's ever had something before. so to meet my brief I've decided to just. commit a novel hate crime against the British I guess.

Anyways. I'm writing this because I need to walk myself through this process and think it'll be surreal enough to be worth taking y'all along for.

So, Beef Wellington. In its most basic bitch arrangement is a beef tenderloin wrapped in prosciutto/really thin bacon, with a layer of mushroom and onion mush, that has been further wrapped in mustard slathered puff pastry.

We will be ship of Theseusing this. bc beef Wellington is like. the opposite of what he wants. Which is why it's funny.

Puff pastry-> it's still just puff pastry

this one doesn't have to change (aka I can't be fucked to do pastry prep and I'm just gonna use store bought it's Fine.)

the prosciutto is also just going to be prosciutto.

Thin meat

Beef tenderloin-> watermelon,

Tbh this is a pretty 1 to 1 substitution. I'll bake the slices at like. 250-300 for an hour or so ahead of the rest of prep to dry it out a bit. bc you can't like. Sear watermelon to seal in the water like you can beef. By definition it's a very wet fruit (like me when I fall into the lake). Ill Add salt and chili and lime juice while baking maybe. this is the easy part

The mushroom mush-> salsa done bad style

As the word mush implies, this is meant to be a very soft mix. It adds a lot of nuttiness to the wellington that rounds out all of the salt from the meats. I'm replacing it with white person salsa(the birthday boy can't handle spice). Tomato, lime juice, parsley, avocado, cucumber, feta, and maybe mango so I can have an excuse to have a lil mango treat. I said I wasn't making it spicy. I'm still putting a bit of chili in it. bc it'll be better like that. This is also a ridiculously wet bit of mush, Even the original mushrooms have too much water. I'll figure something out.

Mustard -> jelly

He lives in a big city. those preserve sections are massive. I'll find a weird one. maybe apricot.

Prep:

We're in the mind palace kitchen, I have not attempted any of this. We're just thinking real hard about it and I'll edit as needed on the day and post results.

The watermelon

Preheat oven to eh. 300f? We want low and slow to dry things out without it taking a year. but idk what his oven is like. If it's gentle I'll bump it up another ten-twenty.

Slather some watermelon slices in salt chili powder and lime juice mixture.

bake for 30 min on a wire rack or directly on the oven racks (after cleaning thoroughly) if he doesn't have a wire rack. with a drip try underneath to catch the drippage. check frequently. Have one slice that's for being poked to see if it's approaching being meat. Bake longer if needed.

Salsa bad style

chop everything up and add it to a pan with some oil in it. Tbh I don't think the type of oil you use for cooking matters if you're not like, getting near any smoke points. Most people can't tell the difference unless you made your food bland as hell.

Anyways there's some wildly different moisture contents on the list so there has to be an Order to cook off as much water as possible without getting yucky.

Tomatoes and cucumbers go in together with some salt to get the cucs softening, then the mango chunks and lime juice. Once most of the water is gone the avocado feta and parsley can go in. There is a good amount of water in avocados but they're delicate and don't pan fry well, so we're just going to ignore their water crimes and hope for the best. They just need to be evenly mixed through the rest of the mush.

Putting it together

lay out the puff pastry, cut into sections to wrap each watermelon slice individually with.

Slather in jam

Take the prosciutto and lay it out on half of each section of the pastry,

spoon the salsa onto that

Melon

Another layer of salsa

another layer of thin meat

Fold the pastry over the top and pinch the edges bc watermelon slices are not a rollable shape and I don't want to carve a watermelon into a tube for this because that sounds irritating.

Brush with egg wash and more parsley

Cook in oven following the pastry's preferred temp and time. it's fucking watermelon, you're not getting ecoli from it.

watermelington :)

I'm serving it with baked sweet potatoes and spinach based salad with whatever toppings are left over from making the salsa.

anyways thank you for joing me on this thought experiment. I will post updates once the deed is done. I'm sorry to every British person ever.

[theereina]

Bad News Pt. 1

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC "Bella"

Wordcount: +3K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, mental health mentioned (anxiety), vomit, *emotional distress*, angst, heartbreak, chronic illnesses mentioned

A/N¹: Remember, I just got back into writing. I'm open to critiques, but I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Since coming home, I had been sitting on the bedroom floor for what seemed like hours. I had done nothing since I had returned home. I had disassociated as soon as I hit the door. Today was only adding to the mess that my life had become. I received the dreaded phone call from my doctor's office early this morning. He said I would need to return immediately for surgery, a surgery that would possibly change my life forever.

My mind was all over the place, and all I wanted was Terry. My Terry. He would know how to help me get through this. I just had to explain everything to him and lay it all on the table. He deserved upfront honesty since this news would affect him, too. It would affect the life we wanted and planned to have.

I had come to the South to spend time with him because I needed to rest. Too much has happened over the last month. I had lost my job because my health was deteriorating rapidly. I was still fighting in court with my mother over the money my aunt left me. After the last storm, my apartment had a severe water leak, so I had to move in with my godmother and godsister on the West Coast. Luckily, we stayed in the same city.

When the doctor called today, I had tried my best to prepare for the news I already knew. The doctor said he found something during the original exam, leading to a biopsy, ultrasound, and MRI. The results from those were even worse.

As I was anxiously waiting, my heart was beating out of my chest again, and I could feel the growing lump in my throat. My body was getting hot, and I wasn't even remembering to breathe. I loathed this feeling. The feeling of anxiety overtaking my body without my permission. Not again. Not now. Not at the one moment where I needed to talk without panicking and rushing through my words. Of course, anxiety had to make an appearance.

I lay on my back in the middle of our bedroom floor and crossed my arms around my body as if I were hugging myself. “Breathe, Bella. Breathe,” I said inhaling and exhaling sharply. Every inhale felt like there were razor blades in my lungs. Oh, no.

I leaned on my elbows and quickly scanned the room for my purse. I needed my phone so that I could at least text Terry. I couldn't breathe right now so talking wasn't an option. The tears in my eyes were begging to be released. I held them in as best as I could. “Don't cry, Bella. Don't. Please, don't,” I said to myself holding my head back forcing the tears to retreat slightly.

My purse was behind me thrown against the master bathroom door. I turned over and crawled towards my handbag. I grabbed the strap of my crossbody and pulled it towards me. Sitting on my knees with the purse in my hands, I flipped it upside down and dumped out all of its contents. My wallet, lip gloss, compact mirror, lip liner, coins, crumpled cash, receipts from today, and phone all thudded onto the floor ahead of me.

I grabbed my phone but instantly dropped it as a sharp pain shot through my chest like lightning. The pain lasted mere seconds but was enough to break me. The tears that I was holding in were now streaming down my face. I was bawling my eyes out through ragged breaths. Fuck. I grabbed the phone from the floor and searched for Terry's number through blurred vision. I used the back of my hand to wipe my eyes. My eyes took painfully long to come back into focus enough for me to make out the letter T at the beginning of a contact. Luckily, I recently messaged him, so I clicked on the thread. I could see the heart I sent Terry earlier as the last message. I quickly tried to calm my breathing a little more and sent Terry a text. It only told him to come home ASAP.

My eyes were beginning to sting, and my sight was blurring again. I waited for at least a few minutes before looking down at the phone again. No response. I was panicking, so I sent a copy of the same text multiple times hoping to alert him to my current state of distress.

“Please, Terry. Save me. I need you,” I thought to myself. I looked up at the ceiling. I needed him to at least call me. Just a call. He would hear my voice and know. That's all I need right now. I waited and still nothing. I decided to call Terry myself. Two rings, then I was sent to voicemail. No way. He didn't just decline and ignore my call. He never does that.

I clutch my hand to my chest and breathe out through my mouth. I call him once again. Same result — voicemail. I sent another text. This one told him I was having an anxiety attack. I put the phone beside me. I repositioned myself in a hunched-over position with my forehead touching the carpet. I was praying that Terry would call.

*3 hours later

I had managed to get on the bed. I didn't even remember moving or falling asleep. I was just so out of touch with reality currently, disassociated and detached. I awoke to my entire body aching. I leaned up on the bed and slid to the bottom edge. My head was pounding, and the feeling was making me nauseous. The room seemed to be spinning. Trying to calm myself again, I sat there for a moment.

I knew I looked like shit. My phone was still on the floor. “Shit!” I yelled. I went into an instant panic. What if Terry called, and I missed it? What if he texted while I was in such a deep sleep? I slid down the edge of the bed letting my butt thud to the floor. I reached for the phone bringing it to my chest. I hoped that I hadn't missed him.

I unlocked my phone to see no missed calls and no new messages. What the fuck? That couldn't be right. I checked that I had service and hadn't accidentally turned on DND or airplane mode. Nope, I hadn't done either. This wasn't right. Terry would have at least texted me back.

I rushed to get up from the floor with the phone still in my hand. I headed out into the hall to see if Terry was inside. “Baby? Terry? Are you here?” I yelled walking into the living room. It was empty and so was the kitchen. I walked towards the large bay window in the living room and peered out. His truck wasn't there either. Where was he?

I tried to call Terry again. Now, it was going straight to voicemail. I left a brief message asking for him to come home and let him know about the panic attack. I hung up, and I sent a message again.

Now, I was starting to worry. This wasn't like him. Was he hurt? Was he in jail? Admittedly, Terry does sometimes have a bit of a temper.

Immediately, I tried calling his father. It rang and rang. He picked up and answered in his usual manner. “Jed speaking,” he said. “Hi, have you seen Terry? I've been trying to reach him for hours,” I said rushing out every word. “Whoa, slow down. I haven't talked to him since this morning, baby girl. Let me ask Linda. Linda! Linda!” he yelled away from the phone. I could hear her answer from the other room. “Ya’ talked to Terry since mornin’?!” he yelled back. I could overhear her respond “No”. “I'm sorry, baby. Neither of us have heard from him. I do know that he went downtown to see if he could get some more help for Mike,” he said. “Mike?” I asked confused. “Yeah,” he started, “Them folks decided to keep him, and Terry is supposed to be going to get him out.”

“I knew about Mike gettin’ locked up, but that's ‘bout it. Terry hasn't said much,” I said putting the pieces together. “Well, that's ‘bout all I know. If we hear from him we'll tell him to call you. M’kay?” he said. “Yes, sir,” I said before ending the call.

I was too afraid to leave the house because I wanted to be there if Terry returned. I sat down on the couch and waited in silence. I was checking my phone every minute for any new calls or messages. Nothing.

I had been waiting for at least an hour in complete silence on the couch when my phone rang. I saw Terry's name on the screen and immediately answered it. “Baby—!” I started to speak. “Bella, can you chill?” Terry barked through the other end. I paused for a second. “Terry, I was worr—,” I tried to speak again. “The hell did you call my parents for? I'm trying to figure out all this shit with Mike. Give me a fucking break. Will you?” he yelled. “I understand that now, but Terry—,” I said before hearing him hang up.

I couldn't believe it. He had yelled at me and hung up on me. What the hell? I wasn't aware of the severity or urgency of Mike's situation. It wasn't like Terry was telling me anything. This was one of the biggest issues in our relationship. Communication between us wasn't always the best or healthiest. In stressful moments, I found it hard to express myself in any capacity, and Terry barely talked at all. I just really needed to talk to him about the call I received from the doctor.

Then again, maybe I was being too overbearing. He needed to focus on Mike, right? You know what? I just needed to relax. Breathe and fucking relax. Terry just needed space. He would come home, we would talk, and everything would be fine. There was no need to make this situation worse than it was.

I waited for another hour. I was lying on the couch and cuddled under my blanket. I had started dozing off when I heard the door open. I jumped up to see Terry walking through the door. His face was filled with anger, and his nostrils were flared. He was pissed.

I sat back down. The worst thing to do was bother Terry when he was this angry. He rushed through the house and stormed to the bedroom. He didn't even acknowledge my presence or notice me sitting there. As much as I wanted to console him, I knew better. If I bothered him right now, he would retreat and leave. That was the worst possible outcome for me.

I went into the kitchen to at least try to find something to cook. I searched the fridge and found thawed steaks. I placed them on the counter beside the stove along with a bell pepper and onion. I searched the cabinets for an appropriate side and settled for boxed mac-and-cheese. I wanted to cook something soon, so we would have a reason to sit and talk.

*1 hour later

The food was done, but Terry was nowhere to be found. I sulked towards the bedroom. I knew this was going to go one of two ways. Either Terry was calmed down, or he was still a raging bull. I stood at the bedroom door. I reluctantly opened it and peered inside. “Terry,” I called out from the doorway. My voice was barely more than a whisper. “Terry,” I said a little louder. “What?!” he barked from the closet.

I jumped at the sound of his voice. He was still pissed. I lightly closed the door trying my hardest not to aggravate him any further. “Food’s ready. I made steak and—,” I said before he rushed out from the closet. “I'm not eating. I got shit to do, Bell!” he yelled walking towards his side of the bed. He leaned over and picked up his backpack and duffel bag from the floor. Panic took over my face.

“Terry, are you leaving to go somewhere?” I asked moving closer to him. “The hell does it look like? I'm leaving tonight,” he said placing clothes into the duffel. “Wait! I need to talk to you,” I said reaching for his arm. “Not now. I got to be there by Thursday afternoon to get Mike,” he said snatching his arm away from me. “Can you leave tomorrow afternoon? Anytime aft—,” I whimpered. Terry's eyes shot upward at me. “Don't fucking start. I already told you Mike was in some shit!” he snapped coming towards me. “But you never said—,” I said backing away.

This wasn't Terry. This wasn't my Terry. This wasn't the Terry who had never yelled at me, who never cursed at me, who even in my fits of anger calmed me down. Who was this?

“I get that you're upset, but I got a call from the doctor's office today. Remember, the tests they ran?” I asked trying my hardest not to cry. Tears were forming, but I refused to let them fall. I needed to stay strong. “Just stop for a second,” I said walking up to Terry and placing my hand on his chest. “What now, huh? What is it that can't possibly wait?” he asked. His face had turned into a scowl and his eyes had narrowed in annoyance. If I didn't think this man still loved me, I would label this a look of pure disgust and hate.

I was trying my hardest to just say it, but I knew it was too delicate of a matter. Terry was too far gone. This wasn't something you blurt out in a fit of rage or frustration. A panicked and rushed speech wouldn't suffice here. This was something so delicate that even the smallest detail needed to be discussed carefully. So, I decided to hold my tongue.

“Nevermind. I'm sorry. I'll talk to you la—” I said removing my hand from his chest. I could feel his heart racing. Maybe, at this moment, he needed me more than I needed him. “So, what's your plan? Are you just going to bail him out and bring him back with you?” I asked earnestly trying to find some sense of familiarity in his eyes, but I couldn't. With that, I buried every emotion I was carrying so that I could give Terry my full attention. “No, I plan on staying for a while. I got other shit to sort out besides just the shit with Mike,” he said turning away from me. “Wait, what? When will you be back?” I asked. “I don't fucking know!” he snapped again. “Terry, I'm only asking,” I said lowering my head. This conversation was quickly going downhill. “How am I supposed to tell you what I don't know, Bell? It may be a few weeks. Hell, it may be a month,” he said continuing to pack his duffel.

“Terry, I need you before then. I need you here tomorrow. The doctor's going to be calling me back. And I—,” I said twiddling my fingers. I hadn't even noticed that I was pacing on my side of the room. I stopped to look at Terry and tried to just say it. “There's something wrong, and he wants me back by—,” I said sniffling. Terry ceased his movements and looked up at me. The look on his face shook me to my core. Hate was inscribed as the only visible emotion. His eyes had darkened, his nostrils were flared, and his jaw was clenched tight enough to accentuate the veins from his temples.

“There's always something wrong with you. All the fuckin' time! It's always about you!” he yelled. His voice thundered through the room. Every word pierced my heart like a bullet. I stood frozen in shock. The man who promised to never hold my health against me had done exactly that.

A surge of adrenaline coursed through my body. There was now a sour taste in my mouth as my saliva grew thick. My hands were now shaking, and my legs felt like they would give out at any moment. I rushed to the bathroom and slammed the door behind me. I instantly felt the vomit rising from my belly. I hovered over the toilet. I spewed up nothing but bile due to having an empty stomach. The acid scorched my throat and flooded out of my nostrils. Every breath I took burned my nose and throat. This felt minuscule compared to the words Terry just said to me.

I dropped to my knees and kneeled before the toilet. The vomit wouldn't stop coming. I held myself up by placing my hands on the edge of the toilet. I was bawling silently. My chest was heaving up and down rapidly. The tears began to pour freely and landed on the toilet seat. I snatched a wad of tissue paper from the roll and wiped my face.

I tossed the tissue into the toilet and closed the lid. I flushed it and slumped back onto the side of the tub. The cold porcelain was hard and uncomfortable against my bare skin. My adrenaline was all over the place, so I pulled my knees up to my chest and dropped my head. Hanging low and uneasy, my head felt heavy against my legs.

Calm down, Bella. Calm down.

I was lost. I was hurt. I was angry. I was overwhelmed. I was exhausted. Worst of all, I felt alone. He was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Now, I felt like my life was ending here. He had crushed me without even knowing it. His face and actions showed no sliver of empathy or remorse. How would we ever come back from this? Better yet, could we?

Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @slutsareteacherstoo @pocketsizedpanther @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blowmymbackout @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy @insidefeelingofanadult @revealingco @keyaho @jimmybutlrr @gg-trini @nayaxwrites @miyuhpapayuh

A/N²: You will learn what the illness is in part 2. Stay tuned!

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Synopsis: Tabito Karasu has been in love with you for almost as long as he can remember. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like you have any intentions of reciprocating, considering you’ve only ever seen him as a child — and, more importantly, as your best friend’s little brother.

BLLK Masterlist | Part One | Otoya Version

Pairing: Karasu x Reader

Total Word Count: 41.6k

Content Warnings: reader is older than karasu (by like two years so it’s nbd but it exists), no blue lock au, bratty baby karasu, jealous karasu, slow burn, childhood friends, i have no idea how to write kids just deal w it, karasu’s older sister is given a name (look at that word count LMAO i’m not calling her ‘karasu’s older sister’ the entire time), reader gets drunk at one point, karasu the goat of pining, yukimiya and otoya mentions ⁉️

A/N: yes this is inspired by the song “best friend’s brother” from victorious but has barely anything to do with it. yes this is probably the longest karasu fic you will ever read as of its publishing date (word count is not a typo it fr is that long). yes reader and karasu are fuck ass little kids for half of the fic. i have nothing to say for myself except that i love karasu so much and i cannot be stopped…also tumblr is an opp so i had to split this into two parts EEK i’m sorry!!

Tokyo was exactly as you remembered it. Both of your parents had been raised there, and so you had visited frequently when you were younger. You had fond memories of staying there with both sets of your grandparents before they had all, in turn, decided to move to calmer parts of the country, places which were not as frenetic and vibrant as the capital. After they had left, your family had had little reason to go back, so it had been some years since you had last made the trip, but in a way this move was just another kind of homecoming, for the chaos of the massive city was as familiar to you as the peace of your neighborhood.

“Everyone here talks like your parents,” Yayoi told you, the first day you both were able to meet up after you had moved. Your classes had not yet begun, but you were both finally unpacked and oriented in your new lives, so you had taken advantage of the last bits of free time you might have for a while to see one another. “It’s kind of funny.”

“Right?” you said. You had never fully adopted the accent of your home region, for you had been raised by a family which still spoke as if they were in Tokyo, but regardless it was strange to hear people other than your parents speaking in that way without affectation.

“Sometimes I end up saying the wrong thing and confusing people, but they figure out pretty quickly that it’s just the dialect I speak with, and then they ask for clarification if needed,” she said. “So I haven’t run into any major miscommunication problems yet, thankfully.”

“That’s good,” you said. “Are you excited to start classes?”

“Well, excited isn't exactly the word I’d use for it,” she said wryly. “Even if I’m the one who chose the subject, it’s still going to be a lot of work.”

“A ton of it,” you said, making a face. “You’re lucky, though. Your term doesn’t start for another week.”

“Well, it also ends a week later, so that doesn’t mean anything,” she said, sipping on the last few drops of her coffee — which she always ordered black, not because she liked it that way but because she was trying to keep up appearances and whatnot. “What about you?”

“I think classes and all will be a good distraction. It’ll be nice to have something to keep myself busy,” you said.

“What do you need to be distracted from?” she said.

“Just homesickness and stuff. The typical things you’d expect,” you said. She hummed sympathetically.

“I get it,” she said. “I miss my parents like crazy sometimes, especially when I need help with random stuff. The other day, I had to video call my mother so she could explain how to clean a cast iron pan.”

“You could’ve looked that up,” you said.

“Yeah, but it was nicer to hear it from her,” she said.

“Yeah,” you echoed, because it was the same for you. You often found yourself calling your parents for no reason at all, asking them stupid questions just to listen to them talk. “I’m glad to be on my own, but I do miss my mother and father a lot.”

“Anyone else?” she said.

“What do you mean?” you said.

“Just wondering,” she said. “You know, come to think of it, you were kind of late coming to your seat. Freaked your parents out beyond belief. Any reason in particular?”

“I was just talking to Tabito,” you said. “Saying bye and all.”

“Are you going to miss him?” she prodded.

“Obviously. At this point, he’s like my brother, too. Isn’t it natural to miss your siblings?” you said.

“I don’t,” she said, though she immediately burst into laughter, which somewhat contradicted the statement.

“You’re horrible,” you said. “I know you do.”

“I do,” she affirmed. “But I think it’s in a different way than you do. It’s odd, because I’m the one who’s actually related to him, but the truth is that you two have always been closer than he and I ever were.”

“Probably because I’m not a jerk like you are,” you said.

“How can you consider yourself his additional older sister when you’re so nice to him? You need to bully him a bit more to earn that distinction,” she said.

“He hears enough of it out of you,” you said.

“Cheers, I’ll drink to that,” she said, holding up her paper cup and raising it to her lips, though you knew it was empty by now. You clinked your own against hers and finished the last remnants of your drink in one gulp. “You know, Y/N, I think you’re irreplaceable at this point.”

“You, too,” you said. “I’ll never be friends with anyone the way I am with you.”

“Fuck whoever we meet in college,” she said, nodding in approval. “I’m sure they’ll be cool and all, but the two of us, we hardly even count as friends anymore. It’s like we’re something more.”

“Exactly,” you said. “I can have a million more best friends, and likely I will, but never again will I have another Yayoi Karasu.”

“And don’t you forget it,” she said.

“I wouldn’t dare,” you said. “Not for a moment.”

Your first year of college flew past in the blink of an eye. On the whole, you preferred it to high school, even though there were aspects of the past you still held dear, seeped with nostalgia as they were. You made new friends, as did Yayoi, but just like you both had predicted, none of them measured up to each other. Still, it was fun to meet people from all different regions in the country and to hear about their lives. Some of your classmates weren’t even from Japan at all, and there was another layer of fascination there, learning about the ways of other nations, the cultures and foods they were accustomed to, and teaching them about your own in exchange.

Your mid term breaks were a bit shorter than Yayoi’s, which meant you weren’t ever able to justify visiting home, but in return, you had much longer in between years, so while Yayoi was still stressing over her finals, you were already taking the train back to the station by your house, texting your parents all the while.

In your absence, your childhood room had remained untouched, the stuffed animals arranged on your bed in the exact order you preferred, the books still stacked on the shelves, your artwork and photos of you with your friends hanging on the walls where you had put them. Time felt frozen, and it was as if you had never left, as if your entire year in Tokyo had been a dream and this had always been the reality.

After eating dinner with your parents, you showered and changed into one of your father’s old shirts and a pair of sweatpants, flopping face-first onto your bed and taking a deep breath, already feeling yourself nodding off despite the fact that it wasn’t that late. Traveling always exhausted you, however, and it was all you could do to turn your lights off and crawl under the covers, plugging your phone in to charge as you drifted off.

Right when you were about to fall asleep for good, your phone’s screen blazed to life, startling you awake as it vibrated urgently. Groaning and cursing whoever was calling you, you glared at the device until you realized exactly who it was, and then your unhappiness was promptly replaced with glee as you clicked on the green answer button.

“Tabito!” you said. Although you had texted with him every now and then, you were ashamed to admit that you hadn’t spoken to him as much as you should’ve. You reasoned that he had had equal opportunity to reach out first and hadn’t, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, but it was a feeble excuse that was only meant to deflect the blame from yourself and nothing more.

“Y/N,” he said. His voice was deeper than you remembered, and more resonant, too, lilting with a husky, full-bodied musicality that hadn’t been there when you had left. “Hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassured him. “What’s up?”

“Do you remember — sorry, this is really stupid, so don’t feel bad for saying no,” he said.

“It’s okay. I’ve definitely seen you do way stupider things,” you said. He chuckled.

“You’re probably right. Here goes, then. Um, do you remember when you went to my first soccer game in middle school, and afterwards, we agreed you wouldn’t come to another until I was the captain of a really good high school team?” he said.

“I think so, why?” you said. A second later, it hit you, and you gasped, beaming so widely that your face ached. “No way! For Bambi Osaka? Since when?”

“Yup, for Bambi Osaka. The old captain just graduated, and he named me as his replacement today, so, uh, since today, I guess,” he said.

“I wish you would’ve told me in person so you could see how much I’m smiling right now,” you said. “Congratulations, Tabito! You can’t begin to know how proud I am of you.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Anyways, our first game is this Thursday, so…”

“Huh? Did you want me to come?” you said. “Yayoi won’t be back from Tokyo by then, though. Shouldn’t I wait for her?”

“If you’d prefer that,” he said. “Or, I mean, you don’t have to go at all. I was just offering in case you were interested, but no hard feelings if not.”

Since when had he been so awkward with you? Since when had he stumbled over his words and been so unsure? You frowned at the mere chance that there was more than a physical distance between the two of you, even if it probably was the case, despite how much you had never wanted such an event to occur.

“As long as you want me, I’ll be there. I don’t have much else to do anyways, right? And how could I miss your first game as captain? Let me know where and when, and I’ll definitely come,” you said. He exhaled softly.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I want you there. I’ll let you know the details, but like I said, no pressure. Don’t force yourself. Come if you can.”

It was springtime, and the world was still remembering how to come alive, peeking out its head from the den of winter and blinking its sleepy eyes against the sun. There were not any flowers in bloom quite yet, but as far as the eye could see were buds on the precipice of rupturing, the pale undersides of their petals mere imitations of the hues they’d soon display proudly. The birds still warmed eggs in nests made of twigs and twine, but already there were cracks in a few of the creamy shells; here and there, even, little yellow beaks could be seen reaching towards the sky and chittering incessant demands at their parents.

You were lazy as you pedaled your bike down the side streets leading towards the field where the match was being held. It was an away game, technically, but this worked out better for you, as the high school they were playing at was closer to your house than the Bambi Osaka stadium, which was far enough that you would’ve needed to take a taxi.

According to Tabito, the game was actually more of a scrimmage, as they were playing a local school’s soccer club instead of another organization’s youth team, as they did in serious matches. Apparently, this was by design, as it gave their coach the opportunity to test Tabito's skills at being a captain in a low-stakes, low-pressure environment. If he proved himself incapable, the coach would override the previous captain’s pick and name another member of the team to the position, but if he played as well as he always did, and managed to coordinate the rest of the players in a satisfactory manner, then he’d be given the position permanently.

You had reminded him that this meant he technically wasn’t the captain yet, but to this he had said that he had the title and the armband, and if anything, since that was the situation, he needed you there more than ever. After all, he had explained, you had been in the audience when he had scored the winning goal in his first game for his middle school’s team. You were good luck for him. If you were in the crowd, then there was no way he could lose.

Parking your bike in the lot alongside the others, you locked it and then made your way towards the entrance to the stadium, the ticket Tabito had sent you in between your index and middle fingers. Even though there wouldn’t be very many people attending this game, it was Bambi Osaka’s policy to require tickets for entry to any of their matches, and the price if you weren’t associated with a player was, you heard, quite hefty.

You sat by yourself in the stands, your purse beside you and your legs crossed at the ankles. You couldn’t explain why, but there was a doubt in the back of your mind about whether you even belonged in the audience at all. Without Yayoi at your side, it felt like there was a neon sign in the air pointing at you and declaring you inept and unwelcome. Everyone else was buzzing with theories and predictions for the upcoming game, tossing out the names of the players and their opinions on them, but you were by yourself, without even a drink to warm your hands.

The gray of that isolation evaporated the moment that the Bambi Osaka boys took to the field, led by none other than Tabito. You were suddenly reminded that you weren’t just allowed to be there — you were wanted, genuinely wanted, and so you had as much if not more of a claim to your seat than anyone else could. Tabito had invited you. He could’ve invited anyone else in the entire city, but still he had invited you, and you would not tarnish that by thinking you were alone when he was there, as he always was.

As was to be expected, there was a complete difference to the way Tabito played when compared to that very first game of his which you had watched. For one, he was at the front of the field instead of in the middle, and there was an impertinence to the way he shook the hand of the opposing captain, an audacious smirk on his face which was visible even from the distance. This was a side of Tabito you weren’t so acquainted with, a side which was brazen and self-assured and stood as if he had already won before the referee even blew the whistle to begin.

The game moved faster than you could keep up with, and without Yayoi there to give you a play-by-play, you found yourself utterly lost about the finer details of the match. Still, even you could tell that Bambi Osaka was in the lead, and by no small margin — largely in part thanks to the combined skills of Tabito and a slender, pale-haired boy whose jersey read Hiori.

When Tabito was younger, there had been a desperate, vicious quality to his soccer, as if he really might die should he lose. It was in direct contrast to now, where he toyed with the opposite team in much the same way a cat would toy with a ball of yarn — with a distinct sense of superiority, like he was looking down on them even as he forced his way past, not giving them any other choice but to watch as he drove his way down the field.

“Is number 10 the new captain?” a boy behind you said. He sounded younger; maybe he had an older brother on one of the teams, or maybe he was just that supportive of Bambi Osaka. You didn’t turn, but you did tune into the conversation, wondering what they’d say about Tabito.

“Karasu? Yes, he is,” a slightly older boy said. “My brother said he’s a real asshole, but he’s a great guy when it counts. They’re all happy he’s the one who was recommended for the spot.”

“He’s so good,” the younger boy said. “And Hiori, as well. They’re both amazing.”

“Hiori’s only a first year, too. I bet he’s going to go far,” the older boy said. “Now shush, quit distracting me. I’m trying to watch the game.”

To no one’s surprise, Bambi Osaka won by a ridiculous amount of goals, and as Tabito shook hands with the school’s captain again, you noticed their coach nodding in approval, annotating something on his clipboard with a satisfied smile on his face. You waited until all of them had vanished into the locker rooms to head to the exit and wait by your bike for Tabito to join you.

About twenty minutes later, he and the rest of the team trickled out, discussing their game and the plans for the next one. At first it seemed like he had not noticed you, absorbed in conversation as he was, but it quickly became evident that he had, for he skillfully guided the others towards where you stood, never faltering in words nor steps until he reached you. Then he paused, schooling his expression into one of shock, his eyebrows raising and his lips parting as if he had happened upon you entirely by accident. It was an amusing bit of theatrics, albeit realistic to anyone who did not know his mannerisms as well as you did.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, all composed and airy and dispassionate, as if it were mere coincidence that the two of you had met at that moment, as if it hardly mattered to him that you were there. It might’ve fooled another person, but not once in his life had he been able to fool you, and he certainly wouldn’t start today.

He must’ve showered in the locker rooms, for his hair fell loose and silky around his face instead of styled back as it typically was, and when you hugged him — which was met a reflexive return of his arms around your body before he could even manage to yelp in surprise — you could smell the faint, pleasant scent of his soap which still clung to his skin.

“Hi,” you said, holding onto him for as long as you deemed publicly appropriate before wriggling free and smiling at him. “I think you did good. Without Yayoi, I couldn’t be sure, but to me you looked great.”

“Eh,” he said. “Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been better. But thanks.”

“Woah, Karasu,” one of his teammates said. He was a tall and burly player who reminded you vaguely of Aoyama, and he accompanied the exclamation by wrapping one arm around Tabito in a friendly headlock and using his free hand to ruffle the boy’s damp hair, leaving him to resemble a sea urchin. “You didn’t tell us you had such a beautiful girlfriend! Hello, ma’am, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Get off of me,” Tabito wheezed, slapping his teammate away. “You fuckface, I’m going to kill you. Don’t try to shake her hand!”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” you said, accepting his teammate’s proffered hand. “Just best friends with his older sister. You can think of me as a stand-in for her while she’s finishing up her first year in Tokyo. My name’s Y/N, by the way.”

“Ah, you’re that Y/N!” he said.

“I believe I am? What does that mean?” you said.

“Nothing bad,” Tabito cut in. “Yayoi’s come to a few games and mentioned you, so everyone’s been wanting to meet you.”

“It’s true. I mean, a girl who refused to come to a game until and unless Karasu was made captain? We all thought you must be something intense,” his teammate said. “You seem pretty normal, though. And also super hot, if you don’t mind me mentioning.”

“Well, he’s the one who told me not to come, so if anyone’s intense, it’s him,” you said. “And, uh, thanks? I guess?”

“I mind you mentioning, so shut the hell up,” Tabito said, finally breaking free of his teammate’s hold and shoving him away from you. “Sorry about this one, Y/N. He’s incorrigible.”

His teammate laughed raucously. “My fault, my fault. Sorry, Karasu.”

“Say sorry to her,” Tabito said. “She’s the one you were bothering.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him. “Really, I don’t mind the compliment. Even if it could’ve been phrased better.”

“Anything for you, gorgeous lady,” his teammate said with a wink. “But, ah, considering I value my life and limbs, I think I’m going to head out now, as our new captain seems about a few seconds away from murdering me. See you around!”

He ran away to rejoin the rest of the Bambi Osaka boys as they all headed in their separate directions towards their homes, leaving you and Tabito alone once more. As soon as they were all gone, he sighed, that put-upon countenance he had maintained for the entirety of the conversation falling apart in an instant.

“I didn’t think he’d say all of that,” he said. “Sorry again.”

“You worry so much,” you said. “Come on, you just won another match, didn’t you? That’s cause to celebrate, so don’t look so tired and mopey.”

“I don’t look tired and mopey!” he defended. “This is just how my face is!”

“Uh-huh, sure,” you said, unlocking your bike and beginning to walk it beside you so you could keep talking to him. “I seem to remember your face being quite a bit rounder and sunnier. Now you’re all angles and doom and gloom.”

“That’s not something I can help,” he said, taking your bike from you so he could walk it instead. “Y/N, you’re being mean. I haven’t seen you in so long and now you’re acting like Yayoi.”

“You think I’m acting like Yayoi? I’m hurt,” you said. “Okay, then, you sensitive captain. How about we go get ice cream? My treat, since you got the position and all.”

“Okay,” he said. “But it’ll be my treat, not yours, because you came to my game and stayed the whole time. It was your good luck that helped me in the end.”

“Offering to pay for me? I suppose I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, so I’ll allow it this time. Anyways, I would’ve had to, because I just realized I left my wallet at home,” you said.

“Almost like you did that on purpose,” he mused, bumping your shoulder with his. “Was that your plan all along? Suggesting we get ice cream but forgetting to bring any money, so I had to cover for us both?”

“I see why your team members think you’re an asshole,” you said. “It’s a surprise, to be sure, but then again, maybe I should’ve seen it coming.”

“Who’s calling me an asshole?” he said. “How did you know that? I’m not! Whoever it is, they were making things up, because I’m — I’m super nice! Seriously, where did you hear that? Stop giggling and answer me!”

You extended your arm to run your fingers through his mussed up hair, smoothing it down as best as you could. “A magician never tells her secrets. Don’t worry about it and just tell me which flavor you’re getting.”

“The same as always, why?” he said.

“I want to decide whether I should steal some of it or not,” you said.

“You don’t have to steal it. I’ll share if you want some,” he said.

“It’s better if I’m doing something wrong. I think it adds to the flavor, or enhances it, or something,” you said. He considered this before nodding with the utmost of gravity.

“If that’s how it is, then you’re absolutely not allowed to even look at my ice cream. I’ll be, uh, super mad if you do,” he said, his glare so fearsome and dark that it skipped the realms of intimidation and landed squarely in the land of comedy.

“You’re the best,” you said.

“I do what I can,” he said. “Will you let me have some of yours?”

“Hm,” you said. “Fine, but only because I love you so much.”

He fought back a smile at that, staring directly ahead, the tendons of his hands flexing on the handlebars of your bike as you continued to walk along the empty sidewalk, the glowing sun in the distance a reminder of the many days exactly like this which you still had left to spend.

The break flew by so quickly it was almost more of a punishment than anything. About as soon as you had gotten settled back into a rhythm of spending your days with the Karasus and your evenings with your parents, it was time for you and Yayoi to return to Tokyo for your second year of college, as well as for Tabito to enter his final year of high school.

You took for granted that you would be back as soon as the first term ended, so when you boarded the train to Tokyo, you didn’t take the time to properly appreciate the place where you had grown up. The city where you had whiled away your idyllic childhood…you had considered it a guarantee that you’d return soon, so why would you linger? But a couple of weeks into your first term, you got news from your parents: your father’s job had, almost out of the blue, transferred him, and so they would be moving to nearby Kawasaki by the end of the month.

There was definitely a pro to having your parents at that distance — they were close enough that you could visit them whenever you wanted to, but far enough that you could justify not going if you were so inclined, and removed enough that your life still belonged to you and only you. Still, it was a little like having a rug pulled out from under you when you weren’t even aware you were standing on a rug in the first place; especially because you could not so much as help in the moving process, given that you were stuck at school and could make no excuse to go back home for such a long time.

The house they found in Kawasaki was in a good area, and though it was smaller than your old one, it was still airy and bright, with large windows and wooden floors and enough bedrooms that you could still have your own despite not living there full-time anymore. Your parents were actually glad for the reduced size, for it meant less emptiness, less cleaning to be done in places that never even got used or looked at.

When you went to visit during the first term break, it seemed like they really were happy there. Or perhaps they were just trying to convince you that this was for the best, that you should not be sad, but if that was so, then they shouldn’t have bothered. You were the one who had left first, who had gone to Tokyo to study and work. Of course it was more abrupt and final than you had wanted, but hadn’t this day always been looming on the horizon? Eventually, you would’ve stopped visiting so frequently, if at all. There was no reason to mourn the occurrence of an inevitability.

Besides the drama of your parents’ move, your second year was uneventful. You made even more friends than you had in your first year, and you still saw Yayoi as much as you could, although it was more difficult for the time being. Luckily, at this point you two had the kind of friendship wherein you picked up as if you had never been apart whenever you reunited, so you at least had that one constant in what sometimes felt like an ever-shifting life.

Around the time that your finals began, you received a text from Tabito, written in a formal language that was nothing like the messages full of abbreviations and emoticons that he generally sent you.

‘Hi, Y/N. I hope you’re doing well, and that your second year in university didn’t give you too much difficulty. I’m just reaching out to let you know that my graduation is next Friday. The ceremony starts at 6:30 in the evening, and I managed to reserve you a spot. The address and information is on the ticket — if you’re able to come, then I’d really appreciate it, but if not, then that’s totally okay. I just thought I should let you know.’

You stared at your phone, a sinking feeling in your stomach. No matter how much you wanted to go, you couldn’t. There were too many factors against it, and you felt horrible as you typed out your response. Any way you went about it came across as too harsh, but then again, was there even a gentle way to reject someone when they had come to you with something so important?

‘tabito!! i can’t believe you’re graduating already, wow!! i really would like to come, but i have a final that friday in the afternoon :( plus i don’t know if you heard or not but my family moved to kawasaki, so i wouldn’t really have anywhere to stay. thank you so much for inviting me though!! i’ll get yayoi to bring a cardboard cutout of me to put in my seat or something LOL. it’ll be just like the real thing!!!’

He responded almost immediately, and despite the effort he must’ve made to sound unaffected, he was obviously disappointed by the turn of events, his efforts at cheer only further highlighting that fact.

‘It’s okay, really! And thank you. Haha yes a Y/N cutout will have to be good enough then. Good luck on your final!’

The rest of the week, the unopened file from Tabito, which sat in your email inbox, tantalized you, and you found yourself obsessively checking the schedule of trains leaving Tokyo. There was one back to your hometown that would depart an hour after your exam was scheduled to end, and you refreshed it constantly, waiting to see if tickets would sell out. Once they were gone, it would give you an excuse not to buy them, but to your frustration, they never did.

You would have to run, and even then it wasn’t a guarantee you would make it, to the train or the graduation, but it was the best chance you had, and with every passing moment, it began to sound like more and more of a viable option.

On Thursday evening, when you once again checked the ticket site and noticed there were open seats, you bit your tongue to stop yourself from swearing, and then you entered your credit card information into the prompt. A minute later, you got a confirmation email, letting you know that your seat was booked for the next day. Burying your face in your hands, you inhaled deeply, vowing not to tell Tabito in case he got his hopes up for nothing. Breathing in and out through your nose once more, you straightened your back and opened up your textbook, returning to studying with a renewed vigor borne of the adrenaline rush which resulted from the impulsive decision.

If your professor found it odd that you came to the exam hall in formal clothes, with your hair done and an overnight bag over your shoulder, she did not say anything, only motioning for you to put your bag with the others and then handing you your paper.

Thankfully, you had studied through the year, and this exam was for one of your easier subjects, so it was a relative breeze. You finished with time to spare, leaving the hall with your things and walking to the train station without any worries except for what would happen once you reached your end destination.

The train ride was longer than you remembered, and by the time you were disembarking at the station closest to Tabito’s high school, it was already 6:00. You sprinted through the platform, calling out apologies as you ran into people or elbowed them out of the way, trying to get to the taxi area before anyone else could claim all of the available vehicles.

“Stop!” you shouted when the singular remaining taxi prepared to drive off to a different pick-up location. You must’ve looked a sight, chasing after a taxi by the train station, wearing a dress and heels, stumbling over your feet with your arm outstretched. “Hey, sir! Stop!”

By some miracle, he saw you through the rearview mirror and screeched to a halt. You opened the back door and dove in, scribbling down the address on a slip of paper and handing it to him, as was customary. Then, when he input the address into his GPS and accelerated onto the route, you leaned forward.

“Sir, I’ll tip you generously if you can get me there before 6:30,” you said.

“I will do my best, ma’am. Please hold on,” he said. That was all the warning you got before he stepped on the gas pedal, the car taking off at all but twice the speed of the surrounding traffic, leaving you to hold onto your seat as the scenery outside blurred into nothing but a smear of pinks and greens and browns.

He got you there at 6:27, which was too close for comfort but still earlier than should’ve been humanly possible, so you reached into your wallet and pulled out a wad of cash that was certainly more than you owed. Slapping it on the console, you mumbled out a thank you and ran off without waiting for a response, trying your best to remember the directions to the auditorium from the email Tabito had sent you.

“Do you have a ticket, miss?” the security guard waiting at the door to the auditorium said. You reached into your pocket and tried to unlock your phone; your slick fingers typed in the wrong password twice before it finally opened and you could brandish the file. He squinted at it before nodding and opening the door for you. “The ceremony has already begun, so please try not to make too much of a disturbance when you enter.”

Your shins and the balls of your feet ached from how much ground you had covered in your less-than-supportive footwear and the speed at which you had done so. Your shoulder, too, was sore under the strain of your bag, but you ignored these pains, counting down the rows and the seat numbers until you spotted the empty one that belonged to you. Squeezing past the others who had already taken their places, you collapsed in the cushioned chair, a sigh of relief escaping you when you saw that, though the ceremony was already underway, Tabito was still yet to go.

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” Yayoi said absentmindedly, for your seat was naturally beside hers. Then, like she had realized what she had said, her jaw dropped. “Y/N? I thought you couldn’t come!”

“Shh, he’s about to go,” you said. “I’ll explain later.”

If you had hesitated for even a minute at any point, you would’ve missed it, but by the grace of some universal power, you had made it into your seat right as Tabito stepped up to take his diploma. He scanned the crowd, much in the same way he did when he was playing soccer, but sadly instead of sharply, like he was aware that he was about to be disappointed yet knew he had to experience that disappointment first-hand regardless.

His eyes slid over everyone in the audience dismissively, but when they landed upon you, they paused, and though it was too far for you to see, you fancied they must’ve widened the slightest bit. Not enough for anyone else to make anything of it, but enough for you to know.

For an instant, everyone else disappeared. In that auditorium, there was only Tabito on the stage and you in the audience, his diploma slack in his grasp, your breaths still fast and uneven. And although there was a distance, and no small one at that, between you and him, it was as if you were right by his side, as if you could see every single emotion which flickered across his face. Shock. Disbelief. Wonder. Then, finally, a sheer, childish thing which could only be called joy — unabashed and whole and candid joy. He smiled in the way he only did for you, not for anyone else in the entire world, not smug and haughty but shy and sincere, and you could not help but smile as well, raising your hand and waving at him like he always did at you.

He was taken aback, but obviously delighted, and so, as the principal announced his name and read off his accomplishments while with the school, Tabito ignored the praise and the applause, focusing solely on returning your wave with one of his own.

“What are you doing here?” he said, sweeping you into a hug as soon as you had all left the auditorium and he had reunited with his family. “You said you couldn’t come!”

“I was wondering the same thing,” Yayoi said from where she was waiting at your side. “And Tabito, when you’re done showing your clearfavoritism, give me a high-five or something.”

He held onto you for a moment longer before letting go and high-fiving his sister, who was the only one that hadn’t been there for when Mr. and Mrs. Karasu, as well as Tabito and Yayoi’s grandmother, had taken teary eyed photos with him. She had instead stayed with you, telling you that you owed her an explanation and then jumping to another topic of conversation before you could give her one.

“There was a train from Tokyo which left an hour after my exam window ended,” you said. “I know you don’t like surprises, but I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to make it, so I didn’t want to tell you in advance in case things didn’t work out. As it is, I had to bribe the taxi driver to get me here from the station at highly illegal speeds, and with that, I only made it to the front of the building by 6:27. Honestly, I still can’t believe I got there before you went at all, but I’m so glad I did.”

“Me, too. You’re right that I don’t normally like surprises, but this one, I was really happy about, so it’s an exception,” Tabito said. Now that he was no longer under obligation to hang around with Yayoi, he was back at your side, playing with the zipper of your bag in fascination while you spoke.

“Me, three,” Yayoi said. “He was seriously depressed that you weren’t coming. The house was like a toxic wasteland the entire week. It’s going to be much safer and cleaner now.”

“Toxic wasteland?” you said.

“Yup, and the toxic waste himself is right next to you, so be careful,” she said.

“You’re so dramatic. It wasn’t like that,” Tabito said.

“Sure,” she said. “Yup. Totally wasn’t.”

“Why do you always do this?” he whined.

“Do what?” Yayoi said.

“Try to embarrass me whenever you can!” he said.

“Not like it’s possible for me to embarrass you in front of Y/N out of everyone. You do that all on your own, so there’s no way I can make things worse,” she said.

“Yayoi!” he snapped.

“Onto more pressing subjects,” you interjected before things could worsen. “Um. I do have a slight problem.”

“What is it?” Tabito said.

“I kind of came here on a whim, so I don’t really have anywhere to sleep, exactly,” you said. The siblings exchanged looks before Yayoi rolled her eyes and Tabito grabbed your bag from you.

“You’ll stay with us, of course,” Yayoi said.

“For as long as you want,” Tabito added. “Or as long as you can, actually. That’s better. Don’t leave until you absolutely have to.”

“We can put your bags in the car, and then we have to take pictures,” Yayoi said.

“I didn’t know you cared enough to want to commemorate my graduation,” Tabito said. Yayoi snorted.

“Nah, I just want to commemorate Y/N’s wild journey from Tokyo, and the fact that she magically got here on time. I don’t ever want to forget about that,” she said.

“I’d be offended, but actually, I’m in agreement. I can’t believe you bribed a taxi driver for me,” Tabito said.

“Ah, well, you know,” you said. “I just told him I’d tip him if he could get me there on time, and he did it.”

“You’re crazy,” he said affectionately.

“Totally,” Yayoi agreed.

“And aren’t you grateful for it?” you said, curling your fingers around his wrist and throwing the other arm around Yayoi’s shoulders, causing her to shoot you a mock-dirty look before she made herself comfortable against you.

“Yes,” Tabito said, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks when he lowered them bashfully, that same smile lighting up his face at the sensation of your fingers dancing over his veins. “I really am.”

The world was quite determined not to split you and the Karasus apart for very long. You learned that night that, along with getting into a prestigious college, Tabito had also been selected to join the Japanese U-20 soccer team. In order to balance his academics — he could’ve quit school entirely by this point if he so chose, but he was far too paranoid to not have a second option should his soccer career not take off — with the new demands of the team, he would be living in Tokyo with one of his new teammates, a boy he had never met but was supposedly named something along the lines of Eita Otoya.

His new place was somewhat close to your apartment; close was a subjective word, of course, but to you, when the weather was nice and you were in no rush to be anywhere or do anything, it was a perfectly walkable distance, and you told him you’d definitely show him and Otoya around once they were moved in and had a moment to spare for such a frivolous outing.

Between his practices and the increase in his workload, it seemed like you really might never see Tabito at all, however close you might’ve now been to him physically. Yet somehow, on a warm day at the brink of summer, he texted you asking if the offer was still on the table, and if so, could you please show him and Otoya a place to get good coffee, because the stuff they made with their Keurig machine wasn’t cutting it anymore. You laughed, responding that you’d be delighted to, and that you were free all weekend, with no qualms about dedicating a day solely to them.

Your first impression of Eita Otoya was that, next to Tabito, he had a delicate and pointed appeal to his pretty features. He was smaller than Tabito, and although there wasn’t an ounce of menace in the way he stood, all inviting and open and casual, there was a wolflike canniness to his green irises, which glimmered when he noticed you approaching.

Before Otoya could even say anything, Tabito had covered his mouth with a hand, glaring down at him in a manner which did not seem to entirely be in jest.

“No way,” he said. “Flirt with whoever else you want, but she and Yayoi are off limits.”

Otoya held his hands up in the air, his voice muffled by Tabito’s palm when he spoke. “Got it, dude. Plenty of other fish in the sea, right?”

“For you, yeah,” Tabito said. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Tabito,” you said. “And you must be Otoya? It’s nice to meet you. Tabito’s mentioned you a few times.”

“Hopefully he’s only said good things,” Otoya said, shaking your hand, careful to keep a cordial distance between you two.

“On the contrary, I’ve been led to believe you’re the devil incarnate,” you said.

“Really?” Otoya said.

“No, of course not. He’s only ever spoken highly of you. I was just joking,” you said.

“That’s a relief,” Otoya said. “It’d be awkward if you had a bad impression of me before we’d even met.”

“Did you really think I’d complain about you to her? I’m kind of hurt,” Tabito said.

“Look, you never know! Maybe that’s how you get your aggression out,” Otoya said.

“It’s not. If I had any aggression, I’d just yell at you yourself. I definitely wouldn’t burden her with any of your hypothetical nonsense, not in a million years,” Tabito said.

“Woah, didn’t realize we had a gentleman here,” Otoya said with a snicker. “Okay, then. Thanks for not talking shit about me behind my back.”

“Anytime,” Tabito said.

“Are you two done yet?” you said. “I don’t want the place to close before we get a spot.”

“Is it nearby?” Otoya said. “As long as it’s close, it doesn’t even matter if it’s expensive. I just need something better than those shitty convenience store Keurig packets Tabito’s been getting for us.”

“That’s the best I’ve been able to bring home at the random times you text me telling me we’re out! Sorry I don’t stop by a damn café after every morning practice,” Tabito said.

“This guy,” Otoya said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Doesn’t understand the value of a good coffee one bit.”

“Not everyone has that touch,” you whispered back with a wink. “It’s alright. I won’t let you suffer any longer; the shop I’m taking you to is only a block away, and it’s relatively inexpensive — for the city, anyways. If you don’t know that it’s there, though, it’s easy to miss, so I don’t blame you for not seeing it.”

“My hero!” Otoya said. “Lead the way.”

You had discovered the small café entirely by accident during your first year in Tokyo. It was tucked away between a laundromat and a veterinary office, far from where one would expect a shop of its nature to be located, and although there was were always a couple of patrons scattered throughout the booths and tables, it was never bustling or crowded enough to take away from the cozy atmosphere.

Tabito held the door open for you, and consequently for Otoya, who followed after and inhaled deeply, clasping his hands together in awe.

“This is amazing,” he said. “L/N, you’re like an angel sent from heaven or something. I could fall to my knees and praise you with a sonnet right now, I’m that happy.”

“If you fall to your knees or do anything similarly stupid in front of her, I’ll show you why I made the U-20 team,” Tabito said, raising his leg in the air like he was threatening to kick Otoya.

“He was just joking around, Tabito, it’s not a big deal,” you said. Then, to Otoya: “You’re pretty funny, you know.”

“Thanks,” he said with a grin. “I try my best. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”

“Mostly it doesn’t,” Tabito muttered under his breath. “Tell me your order, Y/N, and I’ll get it for you.”

“Oh, thanks!” you said, listing off your favorites from the cafe’s menu for him. He wrote it down on his phone, lines of concentration etched into his brow as he painstakingly typed out the entire order before showing it to you to confirm that it was correct.

“Can you get me their seasonal drink?” Otoya said, sliding into the seat across from you and peering up at Tabito, who was entirely unamused by the act. “That floral-type latte. It sounds sick.”

“Get it yourself,” Tabito said.

“Why? You’re going to be up there, so just order and let me get to know dear Miss L/N here,” Otoya said. Tabito seemed conflicted, but you nodded reassuringly at him.

“Fine, but you — you know the deal,” he said, brandishing his pointer finger at Otoya. “Don’t you dare mess with her.”

“You got it,” Otoya said with a double-thumbs-up.

“I’m sorry. He’s always been like that, but he really does mean well,” you said, gazing after Tabito once he had stomped away to the counter.

“Been like what?” Otoya said. “An asshole? Ah, but I’m only saying it affectionately, so please don’t tell him I called him that, or else you’ll cause problems where there aren’t any.”

“He’s sweet at heart,” you said. “I know how he can seem to other people, especially at first, but I met him when he was four years old, so I guess I never really saw that side of him. He’s never been anything but kind to me. I guess that’s all I’m trying to say.”

“You’ve known Karasu for that long?” Otoya said.

“Yup. Like I said, I’m not denying that he’s abrasive most of the time, but he’s only being so protective because he cares about his sister and I so very much. Please don’t take it personally. He’s just that type of younger sibling,” you said.

“Younger sibling?” Otoya repeated. “That’s how you see him, huh? I get it now. If that’s how things are, then I won’t butt in.”

“That’s how they are,” you said. For some reason, this caused him to laugh at you, but it was pitying and mocking and not a sound you preferred to hear from anyone — most certainly not from a person you had only just met.

“It’s always so complicated in life, huh? That’s why I never really try too hard. Problems get worse the more you think about them,” he said. It hardly counted as an explanation, but for some reason, you were sure that that was all you were going to get out of him. “Oh, shit!”

“What happened?” you said as, abruptly and without warning, he shot to his feet,

“I was supposed to work on a group presentation today,” he said, running a hand through his hair with a groan. “They just texted to confirm that we’re meeting in the library in fifteen minutes.”

“Can you make it on time?” you said. He was already typing the address of his school’s library into his GPS, and the instant it loaded, he nodded at you.

“I’ve got it, but I’m afraid I’ll have to head out right about now, or else this crazy girl in my group will kill me. Tell Karasu I’ll send him the money for my drink, and that he can enjoy it on me,” he said. “Poor guy needs it, I’m pretty sure.”

“It’ll be too sweet for him, but I’ll pass along the message, sure,” you said.

“Now, normally, this would be the part where I’d ask you for your number, but no matter how beautiful you are, I’m not willing to risk my living situation for you,” he said. “Karasu’s pretty cool, as far as roommates go. It could definitely be worse, so I’d really not like to lose him and end up with some weirdo who collects toenail clippings, just for flirting with the one girl that he declared off-limits.”

“His actual sister’s off-limits as well,” you reminded Otoya. “So that’s two.”

“He did say that, didn’t he? But you’re off-limits in a different way, and unless I want to end up like my own older sister, whose first-year roommate built a replica of the Taj Mahal from the hair she collected out of their drain, I’m going to respect that,” he said.

“That’s disgusting,” you said, too busy gagging at the mental image artwork he had just described to even question what else he was talking about. “Well, you should be off to your group project, then. I’m sure I’ll see you around, Otoya, but in case it’s not for a while, I’ll wish you luck with soccer and school now.”

“Thanks. The same to you, and I am eternally in your debt for showing me this place, so if you ever need something, let me know,” he said, scrambling hastily out of the café without bothering to push his chair back under the table.

Tabito returned a few seconds later, setting the tray of your drinks down on the table and taking his spot in the booth at your side. Handing you the cup that belonged to you, he sipped on his own and placed Otoya’s across from himself.

“Where’d Otoya go?” he said.

“He said something about working on a group project and left. Apparently, he’ll send you the money for the drink, and you’re free to do with it as you please,” you said. Tabito wrinkled his nose.

“He always gets such sweet shit. There’s no way I’m going to be able to drink that,” he said.

“That’s what I told him, but what other option is there? We can share so it isn’t wasted,” you said, taking a swig from Otoya’s flowery beverage. It wasn’t bad, and you had a little more before giving it to Tabito.

“Ugh,” he said. “Fine.”

He poked out his tongue, lapping up the tiniest droplet of coffee which lingered on the rim of the cup, and then he made a face, handing it back to you and then gulping down two mouthfuls of his own drink to wash out the taste.

“That bad?” you said.

“Tasted like shit,” he said. “I don’t know how the two of you can drink that kind of stuff regularly without gagging.”

“It’s not my favorite, but it’s not as horrible as you’re making it out to be,” you said.

“I can literally feel my arteries clogging as we speak,” he said.

“Since when did you start speaking like an old man?” you said. “What boy your age talks about his arteries clogging?”

“Firstly, I’m trying to become a professional athlete, so I have to pay careful attention to things like my health, and secondly, we’re not that far apart in age. We have to worry about the same things, like jobs and grades and clogged arteries. Concerns of that nature,” he said.

“I’m glad you feel that way, but why’d you think I was referring to people my own age when I said old man, hm?” you said, elbowing him in the ribs playfully. “For your information, I doubt any of my own classmates would care about that shit yet, either. That was a distinctly middle-aged thing of you to say.”

“That makes me older than you,” he said. “If I’m middle-aged and you’re still all youthful and whatnot, that is. How do you feel about that age gap? It’s a little racy, don’t you think?”

You gave him an incredulous look. He couldn’t even maintain his straight face for more than a second, immediately losing composure and snorting at you.

“You’re the worst,” you said.

“And you’re easy to tease,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I had to take the opportunity when it presented itself.”

“I’ll give it to you this once,” you said. “Next time, you’re not getting off so easily.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “You’re all talk. I’m not scared one bit.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so adorable,” you said. “How am I supposed to stay mad when you look like you just watched a puppy die every time Yayoi yells at you?”

He scowled at you. “You’re making that up, aren’t you? Or is that how you actually see me?”

“Hm,” you said. “Let’s finish our drinks. They don’t taste as good if they’ve sat for too long.”

Huffing in exasperation but knowing that you’d not go into more detail once you’d changed the subject, he finished off what was left of his order in one fell swoop, and then he snatched Otoya’s drink from your hands, tossing it into the trashcan before you could so much as blink.

“Aw,” you said. “I feel bad. That’s how we’re responding to Otoya’s act of goodwill?”

“Forget about his goodwill,” Tabito said. “It’s not like he did it because of how magnanimous he is or anything. He’s just a dumbass who forgot that he had prior commitments.”

“Nothing like you, of course,” you said. “You’re always on time, and you only ever order the best of drinks.”

“Exactly,” he said firmly, leaving no room for argument — not that you would’ve argued with him, even if there was any cause to. Your father had always told you that generally, it was better to lose an argument than a loved one, and since the notion of losing Tabito was akin to a spear being driven into your heart, you did your best to avoid the chance of that frightful outcome ever occurring at all.

A few days before the end of the winter term, Yayoi called you in a flurrying panic. When you picked up, you were expecting her to be asking about the plans you had made for the road trip you two were taking, but it was nothing of the sort. Indeed, the first words out of her mouth were ones you had never once heard from her, and you almost dropped your phone the moment she said them.

“Y/N, I need your help. There’s this guy—”

“What?” you said. “Since when? What’s his name? Where did you meet him, and how? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Is he handsome?”

“Oh my god, one question at a time!” she said. “Yes, he’s super handsome — actually, he’s a model, so it’s kind of a prerequisite. I’m telling you as it happens, so don’t think I’m keeping things from you! His name is Kenyu Yukimiya; he plays for the U-20 team with Tabito, and I met him when I went to one of their practices because I was bored. We spoke once, but I don’t think he remembers I exist, and even if he does, he probably considers me as nothing more than his teammate’s older sister.”

“Wait, U-20? Is he younger than us?” you said.

“Yes, he’s in Tabito’s year, though a couple of months older than him,” she said. “Do you think it’s weird? Oh, it’s totally weird, isn’t it? I’m a creep! I’m a stupid, ugly creep! Lock me away or turn me into the police or something!”

You cut her wailing off with a snicker. “Yayoi, relax. It’s not that weird, and I mean that honestly. It’s hardly even a two year difference, right? My own parents have a bigger age gap, and besides, you both are in pretty similar spots in life, so it shouldn’t be a problem, especially if he’s mature.”

“He seemed mature,” she said contemplatively. “He was super polite and kind when I spoke to him. Plus, unlike my stupid brother, he actually enjoys talking about the same things I do.”

“There you go, then,” you said. “You’re worrying for nothing. The only reason why anyone might say anything is because you’re older than him, but who cares about that? It’s a tired concept, the whole notion of the woman needing to be younger or smaller than her male partner or whatever. As long as he’s single and into you, I’d say you’re in the clear.”

“That’s what I actually called you to talk about!” Yayoi said. “You’ve had a boyfriend, so you know a little more than I do about this kind of thing. How am I supposed to get him to ask me out?”

“Just so you know, having had one boyfriend back in high school doesn’t exactly qualify me to give you advice,” you said. “Also, you can’t really get someone to ask you out. Why don’t you just go to another one of their practices and talk to him again once they’re done? If the conversation is flowing well, then you can ask him out yourself.”

“Um, that would be a great idea if I was brave enough to ask someone out,” she said. “Unfortunately, I definitely am not.”

“You don’t have to be all official and serious about it,” you said. “Don’t say you want to date or anything — ask him if he wants to hang out to continue the conversation at a later time, and then give him your number. That’s all. If he’s interested, he’ll call or text you to make plans, and if he’s not, then he won’t.”

“It’s that simple?” she said.

“I think it is,” you said. “I wouldn’t know from personal experience. Aoyama just asked me out. I never had to do anything.”

“Not all of us can be that lucky!” she said.

“Yeah, I get it. But I have confidence that you can pull it off! It’ll go great, and then you’ll actually be dating a model in Tokyo like you always said you would,” you said.

“Okay…” she said hesitantly. “Y/N?”

“Yayoi?” you said.

“Canyoucometothepracticewithme?” she said, all in one unintelligible breath. You furrowed your brow.

“Could you repeat that?” you said.

“Can you come to the practice with me?” she said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to do it without you pressuring me a bit.”

“Sure, why not?” you said. “Is it in the morning or evening?”

“They have evening practices on Tuesdays. I was thinking we could go to one of those? That’s what I did last time, so it’s an established thing, and anyways I don’t think I could wake up early enough to go to a morning practice,” she said.

“Okay, good, because I was kind of scared I’d have to be up before the sun. I’d do it for you, and in a heartbeat, but I wouldn’t exactly be happy about it,” you said.

“I wouldn’t, either,” she said. “This Tuesday, then? We can have an early dinner or late snack together before heading over.”

“I won’t miss it,” you promised. “Make sure you wear something nice!”

After your Tuesday classes and errands were completed, you met Yayoi at a restaurant you both liked so that you could quickly eat before leaving for the practice. She was nervous the entire way, twirling the ends of her hair around her finger, straightening her already-perfect clothes, and chewing on her lower lip.

“Hey,” you said as the two of you entered the stadium and sat on the first row of benches. “Don’t stress out. If he’s an asshole, we’ll sic Tabito on him. I bet he could beat your crush in a fight, easily.”

“I don’t know,” Yayoi groaned. “Yukimiya’s super tall, and he looks pretty built, too. I think my baby brother might be outmatched.”

“No way,” you said loyally. “I’d bet on him over anyone.”

She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye. “I wish I could have the same faith in him, but considering what a dumbass he typically is, I can’t say I can muster it up. Look, that’s Yukimiya. Still think Tabito’s got it in the bag?”

Discreetly, she pointed out a boy with wavy chestnut hair and an admittedly powerful build. He stood next to Otoya, which only threw it into further relief just how muscular and tall he was. Yayoi hadn’t been lying about that, and neither had she made up how good-looking he was; you could tell just from that first glance that he was heartbreakingly handsome.

“Well,” you said, realizing that maybe you had been a bit overconfident in Tabito’s abilities. But you were too stubborn to change your answer now, and besides, you believed in him no matter what, so you only shrugged. “Yes. Even if it looked like he’d lose for sure, I’d still pick him. There just isn’t anyone else I’d ever choose.”

“Damn,” Yayoi said. “Fine, then. If Yukimiya ends up being an asshole, we’ll see who wins.”

“Deal,” you said. “Although, hopefully it doesn’t come to that.”

“Hopefully,” she agreed.

The practice was long, dragging on past sunset, the field’s lights turning on to ward away the darkness as the moon crept higher into the sky. Yayoi, who had confessed that she hadn’t slept well the previous night, slumped against you and passed out almost immediately, and you busied yourself with a pattern of checking your phone and watching moths fly fruitlessly into the massive lamps.

Finally, the coach blew the whistle to signify the end of the practice, and as the players exited the field, walking past where you were conveniently seated, right by the joint entrance-exit, you shook Yayoi.

“There’s no way you’re in this deep of a sleep,” you hissed at her unmoving form.

“Y/N?” It was not Yayoi but someone else who said your name; namely, Tabito, who had paused in front of you and Yayoi to gaze at you questioningly. “Why are you at my practice?”

“Not now, Tabito,” you said dismissively. Noticing that Otoya and, more importantly, Yukimiya, flanked him, you doubled down on your efforts to wake Yayoi, who remained unresponsive. “You bitch. I bet you’re just pretending to sleep so you don’t have to go through with the plan.”

“Hey, L/N! It’s been a bit,” Otoya said. “I’ve been visiting the place you showed us almost daily. It’s wicked good. You’re the best for bringing us there.”

“Hi, Otoya,” you said. “Sure, anytime. I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Yayoi, if you won’t get up, I’ll just do it myself.”

Without waiting for her to respond, you stood up and bowed slightly at Yukimiya, who seemed entirely bemused by your odd actions. He glanced at both Otoya and Tabito for help, but neither of them had any clue what you were doing, either, so they could offer no assistance to him on that front.

“It’s nice to meet you. I hear your name is Kenyu Yukimiya?” you said.

“Yes, that’s correct,” he said. He had a pretty manner of speech, proper and refined, each word spoken with careful control. “Who might you be?”

“Y/N L/N, but that’s unimportant,” you said. “That’s Yayoi Karasu. She’s Tabito’s barely-older sister. You should talk to her.”

“Y/N!” Yayoi screeched, shooting up to a sitting position. “Why would you phrase it like that?”

“What is going on here?” Tabito said. Otoya shrugged, clearly lost as well.

“So you were faking it the entire time! Never in my life have I met a bigger coward,” you said, clicking your tongue in disappointment.

“Yayoi Karasu?” Yukimiya said. “Oh, I know you! You were here last week, right? We talked about Neon Genesis Evangelion.”

“That’s right! You, uh, remembered that?” Yayoi said. He beamed at her.

“How could I not? The movie is one of my favorites, and none of these guys like it, so it was great to meet someone else who’s seen it so many times,” Yukimiya said.

“Y/N,” Tabito whispered, sidling over to you, the tip of his sharp nose brushing against the shell of your ear. “Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”

“Depends,” you whispered back. “If you think this is your sister having a crush on your soccer teammate, then yeah, it is. Otherwise, no.”

“That’s gross,” Tabito said, horror twisting his features. “Yayoi and Yuki? No way. You have to be joking.”

“Why not? Because he’s younger than her? It’s only two years. That’s nothing,” you said. “You should be more supportive.”

“No,” he said, a peculiar edge to his voice. “No, I don’t — I don’t care about that part. I thought you might, but I don’t at all.”

“Huh? Why would I?” you said. “If they’re both interested in each other, and they make each other happy, that’s all that matters. We’re adults, so a few years here and there is meaningless in the grand scheme of things.”

“What about you? Would you ever do it?” he said, breathless and impatient, clenching the hem of your shirt in one fist.

“Date someone younger than me? I’m not sure. I’ve never really considered it; you’re the only one younger than me that I regularly interact with, and, well, you know. There’s a special consideration there. Why? Got a teammate you want to set me up with or something?” you said.

“Absolutely not,” he said, stepping away from you and scowling. “I’d never ever ever let one of those mediocre fucking idiots anywhere near you.”

“Just a hypothetical question, then? I suppose there’s no harm in that kind of thing every now and again. Was my response alright?” you said.

“How am I supposed to answer that?” he said tiredly. “It’s what you think, so obviously it’s fine. I should go now. I don’t want to keep Otoya waiting; he’ll get pissy and annoying if I do.”

“Oh, okay. Bye, Tabito! Let me know if you’re free sometime. I feel like I never see you, even though we’re all but neighbors. We should do something,” you said. The strange tone of the conversation had left you reeling, and you scrambled for something that would make it better, would chase away the anxiety constricting your lungs like a vice.

“I’ll let you know,” he said. It was a dull attempt at sounding excited, and for a brief, striking instant, you wanted to reach out and beg him to wait one second more. You wanted to apologize, though you knew not what you had even done. You wanted him to stay until he smiled at you again, the way he usually did, and then you wanted to — you wanted to — you weren’t sure. You weren’t sure what you would do after that, but you would do something, hold his hand or embrace him or something.

Yet instead, you did nothing, watching as he rejoined Otoya and entered the locker room without a backwards glance, leaving you standing by yourself in the bleachers, your heart hammering in your chest like a crow with clipped wings, thrashing against the bars of its steel cage in a futile attempt to escape.

“Can you believe it?” Yayoi said later. “He asked me out first! I didn’t even have to do anything!”

“Congratulations,” you said, as genuinely as you could. “I’m really happy for you, Yayoi. Fingers crossed that it all works out well. I’m sure it will; he seems like a really great guy, and you both were talking for a while, so you’re clearly compatible.”

“Thanks, I think so too!” she said before narrowing her eyes at you. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing!” you said. She was so happy that you could not bear the thought of burdening her with your problems, especially when they weren’t even problems in the first place. Yayoi was having none of it, though, frowning at you.

“You can tell me,” she said. You shook your head, so she poked you in the forehead. “Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.”

She punctuated each utterance of the refrain with another poke, until finally you batted her hand away in exasperation “It really is nothing. I just think I did something to upset Tabito — don’t ask me what, because I don’t know — and it’s making me feel a bit out of sorts.”

“He’ll get over it. Why’re you worried? This isn’t unusual. He’s mad at me half of the time. If I felt out of sorts every time he threw a tantrum about something, I’d never feel in sorts,” she said.

“But he hardly ever gets mad at me,” you said.

“Right,” she said, her eyes glimmering. “I forgot the two of you were like that. Hm. I still think you shouldn’t worry too much. If he’s actually mad, which I honestly doubt, then he’ll get over it quickly enough. He’s not capable of staying angry at you for any length of time.”

“If you say so,” you said. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. We need to celebrate you finally saying yes to a guy that asked you out!”

Yayoi blushed but nodded. “Should we go for drinks?”

“It is a Tuesday,” you reminded her.

“Is that a no?” she said.

“It’s a yes,” you said.

“I knew I loved you for a reason,” she said.

“Just for that, you’re covering the tab,” you said. She winked at you.

“Already planning on it!”

The end of your time at university came almost as soon as the beginning had. It was bizarre, walking out of the familiar exam hall for the final time — you knew you had passed, and you already had a job lined up for you in a month’s time, so there wasn’t any cause to worry, and indeed you did not. You only felt odd and light, as if you were floating through the streets of Tokyo, ephemeral like an aluminum wrapper bouncing down the pavement in the wind.

Neither Yayoi nor Tabito could attend your graduation ceremony which was held that Friday; Yayoi had fallen deathly ill, so you had enlisted Yukimiya in keeping her at home, lest she sneak out and kill herself by trying to support you, and as for Tabito, he happened to have a final exam held at exactly the time of the ceremony, which meant he was automatically excluded from attending.

Your parents, as well as both sets of your grandparents, were in the audience, but it wasn’t the same. You couldn’t help yourself from searching for the Karasus, for Tabito in particular, but no matter how hard you searched, it didn’t matter. They weren’t there. He wasn’t there.

When the president of your college, a portly woman with pin-curled hair and red lipstick, handed you your degree, you were hesitant in taking it. Your smile plastered on, you stared towards the door as your fingers inched towards the fancy paper. Any moment now. He’d burst through the door the way you had, and he’d see you, and he’d smile and then wave — it was like a tradition at this point, wasn’t it? It had to happen. He had to come. You knew he wouldn’t, but you couldn’t stop a foolish anticipation from brewing in you as you waited.

Your hands reached the certificate. You held it in front of you as the cameras went off, finally turning away from the door and grinning wider, resolving not to let it ruin your mood. After all, you had worked so hard to achieve this. Why did it matter who was in the audience? It could be an audience of none, and you’d still be happy. You’d still be proud, for no other reason than because you had done it, because all of your hours of studying and classes and homework had finally paid off.

You ate dinner with your family, and then you were invited to go out to a nearby bar by a few of your college friends. Seeing your parents and grandparents to the train station, you rushed back to your apartment to get ready for the night, entirely ready to let loose after what felt like several years’ worth of burdens had just been knocked from your shoulders.

The bar was packed with students from your school, all of whom had had much the same idea as you and your friends. The bartenders were rushing back and forth, sliding drinks out with as much speed as was humanly possible, and before long you were sipping on something fizzy and fruity that one of your friends had handed you.

At some point, one of your classmates, a boy who you had never known particularly well but recognized for his distinctive voice, which could be heard from all corners of the city when he got to bragging about his father’s salary, announced that the rest of the night’s drinks were on him. If you were his father, you’d be furious at the offer, but as you weren’t his father, you took advantage of it with impudence, downing glass after glass of whatever the bartender gave you.

Soon enough, the music and lighting, which you had found so charming and delightful earlier, began to pound at your head. The world spun, not unpleasantly but still in a disorienting manner, and you stumbled towards the door, pulling out your phone and singing to yourself as you decided who you wanted to call.

The cool air of the night was refreshing against your face, and you leaned against the brick wall of the establishment as you squinted at the blinding light of your phone’s screen. You could barely make out the dark characters which stood out on the white background, and eventually you gave up, switching to the keypad and using muscle memory to type in the number your fingers had long ago memorized.

He didn’t pick up until the last ring, and his voice was groggy when he spoke. In the back of your mind, you felt guilty, for you recognized that he must’ve been sleeping, but for the most part you were far too elated to hear him speaking, so you could not bring yourself to be too sorry.

“Hello? Y/N?”

“Tabito,” you said, your words slurring together, dragging out at the ends and trailing into soft breaths. “Tabito, you didn’t come to my graduation.”

He sounded a lot more alert when he spoke next, but he did not change the volume of his voice from that low murmur any. “I told you I couldn’t. I had an exam, remember?”

You sniffed, blinking rapidly. “Yeah, I remember.”

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it,” he said. “You know I would’ve been there if I could’ve.”

“Can you come now?” you said, your lower lip trembling.

“Come where?” he said. There was a muffled sound that you assumed was him rolling out of his bed, and then the soft padding noise of his footsteps.

“The bar,” you said. At this point, irrational tears were welling in your eyes. You weren’t even sad, but you couldn’t stop them from rolling down your cheeks, leaving scalding trails in their wake.

“Are you out with your friends? Why do you want me there? Aren’t you celebrating?” he said.

“I don’t know,” you said, and then you were hiccuping as you cried in earnest. “I don’t know, Tabito, I just want you to be here.”

“Okay, okay,” he soothed you. “I just left my apartment. Is it the bar you and Yayoi like to go to? The one by the grocery store?”

“Yes,” you said.

“I’ll be there in a couple of minutes, and then we can decide what to do from there. Does that sound good?” he said.

“Mhm,” you said. “Are you going really fast? Tabito, you play soccer, right?”

“I do play soccer,” he said, sounding equal parts amused and concerned. “You come to watch my games sometimes. I like when you do that.”

“That means you must be fast,” you said. “Mega fast. Mega extra fast.”

“I’m only a little fast. Most of my teammates are faster,” he said.

“Ah,” you said. “But will you still be here super soon?”

“Yes, I’ll be there super soon,” he promised.

“Can you talk on the phone and walk at the same time?” you asked him.

“Well, I’m doing it at the moment, so yes, I’d assume so. Why do you ask?” he said.

“Isn’t that illegal?” you said.

“No, that’s for when you’re driving,” he said.

“Oh,” you said. “You don’t do that, do you?”

“I take the train or walk most places, so I don’t even have the opportunity to,” he said.

“But if you had to drive, you wouldn’t, right? Right, right?” you said.

“Right,” he said. “I’m just around the corner, so I’m going to hang up. Are you outside?”

“Next to the door,” you said.

“Don’t move,” he instructed you, and then he ended the call.

Before you could begin to wail about the abandonment, he was rounding the corner, looking so haphazard that, had you any more presence of mind, you’d have made fun of him for it. His hair stuck up in every which direction, like it had when he was younger and didn’t know how to style it, and he wore nothing but a random t-shirt thrown over a pair of plaid pajama pants, his feet shoved into the black Crocs that Yayoi had bought him as a gag gift last Christmas.

“Y/N! There you are,” he said, his shoulders slumping in relief as he pulled you into his arms. “Look, I’m with you now. Are you happy?”

You giggled. The world still rotated on an unidentifiable axis, but the firmness of Tabito’s grip had a kind of stabilizing effect, holding you in place and together and in one piece.

“Hi, baby,” you said. “Yes. So happy.”

“Baby?” he repeated, and based on the way his skin warmed, he must’ve been blushing.

“Look,” you said, reaching up so that you could play with the ends of his hair. “It’s like when you were a baby. When you were just little baby Tabito. That’s when I met you, you know.”

“I see,” he said, and there was a distinct yet inexplicable despondency to the way that the corners of his eyes crinkled and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Do you want to go home now?”

“I wanna be with you,” you said.

“That’s fine,” he said, so patiently and tenderly that your head grew fuzzier and fuzzier with every word he spoke. “I’ll stay with you either way, but I think we should probably head back. How much have you had to drink?”

“Um…” you tried to recount what you had ingested, but it was all a blur. “I don’t remember.”

He rubbed the back of his hand against your cheek. “Let’s go home, then. You definitely shouldn’t have any more. Will you be alright if I go inside and tell your friends I’m taking you back?”

“Do you have to?” you said, catching his sleeve and holding it in between your hands. “Why can’t we just leave?”

“They’ll worry about you,” he said, prying your fingers off with the utmost of delicacy. “If you leave without letting them know, they might think something bad happened. I’ll explain what’s going on so they aren’t scared, and then we can head out. Does that make sense?”

“Hmm,” you said. “Only because you say so.”

He chuckled slightly. “That’s good. I’ll be back before you know it.”

You counted the seconds that he was gone, and before you reached the seventy-fifth, he was already back, his face flushed from the heat of the bar, his hair even wilder than earlier from the sweat and the humidity, a dusty footprint on his right shoe where someone must’ve accidentally stepped on him.

“I was expecting to have to convince them to let you go with me, but they were all alright with it,” he said, carefully taking your hand and leading you in the direction of the apartment.

“Sure they were,” you said, tripping over a loose stone, only avoiding face-planting because Tabito caught you with the reflexes of an athlete. “It’s because I talk about you so much.”

“Do you?” he said.

“Totally,” you said with a yawn. “All of my friends know about you and your soccer and your studies. I’m just soooo proud of you, so I mention it whenever you do something cool. Isn’t that what a normal elder-sister-figure would do?”

“Yayoi doesn’t,” he said.

“Yayoi is Yayoi,” you said.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he said. “And it doesn’t change what I said.”

“Can you carry me?” you said when you almost stumbled and fell for the second time. “Tabito, it’s hard to walk, so can I please ride on your back the rest of the way?”

He exhaled but crouched, beckoning you forward. “If you really want.”

“Yay!” you said, leaping onto his broad back and clinging to his neck, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he supported you while continuing to walk. “You’re so big now. When did that happen? Have you always been like this? It’s almost as if you’re nearer to being a man than a child, but that’s impossible. You’re still young, aren’t you?”

“It’s not impossible; in fact, it’s the truth,” he said. “If only you ever looked at me and saw me for who I am, you’d have realized I’ve been like this for quite a while now.”

“What do you mean?” you said, resting your chin on his shoulder, closing your eyes, allowing the rhythm of his walk to lull you into a trance.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Forget about it. We’re almost there. Are your keys in your purse?”

“Yup,” you said. “D’you want them now?”

“I’ll get them from you once we’re at the door,” he said. “Good thing you don’t have a roommate; I’m sure they’d be pissed off by you coming back so late, drunk out of your mind and with a random guy in tow.”

“You’re not a random guy,” you said, dropping the key to the complex in his waiting hand once the two of you reached the glass gate to the building. “If I had a roommate, they’d definitely know who you are. How could they not? You’re my Tabito.”

“Since when I have been your Tabito?” he said, unlocking the door and flicking your chin up playfully before returning his hand to holding up your leg. “I don’t think that I am.”

“Since always,” you said.

“Really? And does that mean you’re my Y/N?” he said, bending down so you could press the elevator button to take you to your floor.

“Yes,” you said. “For six years I did not know it, but ever since then I have been yours.”

“Well,” he said. “Is that how it is?”

“It is,” you said. He switched the lights in your apartment on and deposited you on the couch, heading to your kitchen and filling up a glass with water. Handing it to you, he sat at your side, bringing it to your lips so you could drink, not taking it away until you had drained the cup.

“Feeling better?” he said. “I’ll get you some crackers to eat.”

“Much better,” you said, chewing on the crackers while laying your head on his shoulder. “My stomach isn’t so queasy, and my vision is a lot more straight.”

“You’re talking more normally, too,” he noted. “At least, you sound a bit comprehensible. Want more water?”

“No,” you said. “I’m sleepy. Can we go to sleep now?”

“Here?” he said. “How about you change into your pajamas and wash your face first?”

“I’m too tired,” you said, yawning yet again to emphasize the point, nuzzling your face against the curve of his neck, your eyelashes crushing against his throat. “You’re so comfortable.”

“Thank you,” he said, patting you atop the head. “But you’ll feel horrible tomorrow morning if you don’t get in bed properly.”

“I’ll feel horrible either way,” you said. “I can’t do anything. We were partying for so long, and now I’m exhausted.”

“That’s true, but you’ll feel worse if you sleep here instead of in your room,” he said. “How about I help you?”

“You’ll help me?” you said.

“If you change your clothes, I’ll do everything else,” he promised, gently pushing you off of him and then standing so he could help you to your feet. “I just don’t want you to feel sick tomorrow, be all cramped up from sleeping in a weird spot, and get a break out on top of that.”

“I guess that’s fine,” you said with a dramatic exhale. “You’re so…so…what’s the word? You’re so persistent. Stubborn. Something like that.”

“People say that a lot,” he said.

“They call you an asshole a lot, too,” you said. “All of the time.”

“Yes,” he said, walking with you to your room, where your pajamas were folded at the foot of your bed. “I think I am one, at least a little bit. It’s impossible for me to be otherwise around mediocre people. I try to fix it, but it’s hard, you know.”

“I don’t think you are,” you said. “You’re the nicest person in the whole entire world. If you were an asshole, you wouldn’t treat me the way you do, but you do, which means you aren’t.”

“That’s because you’re special,” he said after a pause. “To me. And also in general.”

“What do you mean by that?” you said, but when you turned around, he had shut the door between you two, allowing you to change your clothes and him to avoid the question.

Only the thought of disappointing Tabito was enough to convince you to not collapse onto your inviting bed. Instead, you trudged towards the door, opening it and pouting at him, trying to beg with your eyes for him to allow you to go to sleep.

“Good job,” he said, ignoring your silent pleas and dragging you to the bathroom, where he sat you down on the edge of the bathtub. “Is this your makeup remover?”

He showed you the little tub of cold cream you kept next to your sink. You mumbled something generally affirmative, and he unscrewed it, kneeling beside you and massaging it onto your face, paying extra attention to your eyes, which was where most of your makeup was concentrated.

“Who taught you about all of this stuff?” you said, your eyes screwed shut as he used a clean, wet washcloth to remove the cleanser from your skin. “Do you have a secret girlfriend?”

“No girlfriends, secret or otherwise,” he said. “It’s all stuff Yayoi made me learn on pain of death. She refused to have a brother who didn’t know anything about proper skincare. It’s not like I do it all that much, but I’m aware of it thanks to her.”

“You’ve really never had a girlfriend?” you said. You supposed you had always been aware of that, but you had never really comprehended what it meant. How could it be that Tabito Karasu of all people had never even gone on a date?

“Nope,” he said. “Can I use this moisturizer on you? I’m sure you have a better routine normally, but it’ll probably be for the best if we skip steps for the sake of getting this done quickly.”

You cracked your eyes open and then nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine. Why?”

“Why what?” he said. The lotion was cold at first, but the circular motions of his fingers on your cheeks warmed it quickly enough that you didn’t even have time to be shocked by the temperature. It was soothing, a tingly sensation washing over you as he worked.

“Why haven’t you had a girlfriend?” you said, his fingertips gliding over your forehead.

“I guess I haven’t found the right person yet,” he said. “Or, no, that’s not it. I have found them. I found them a long time ago, but I don’t — I don’t think they wanted to be found. Not by me.”

“That can’t be true,” you said. “What kind of person wouldn’t want you? Who are you talking about, anyways?”

His thumb swiped over your lips, once and then twice, before coming to rest where they slightly parted. You waited, thinking he might move it, but he did not.

“What will it take?” he said. “For you to stop thinking of me as a child. What more can I do? Name it and I will. If it means you’ll stop thinking of me as your little brother, then I’ll do anything.”

“How else would I think of you?” you said. “You are like my—”

“Please,” he said, and it had been so very many years since you had heard him so distraught that you quieted immediately. “Please stop it. I don’t think of you like that, I don’t love you like that, so please stop it.”

Before you could respond, his mouth replaced his thumb against your own, and he was kissing you, cradling your head in his hands, his ardor winning out over his inexperience as he tried to impress upon you just how much he had wanted you, and for how long.

Unfathomably and without even realizing, you found yourself kissing him back, enjoying every demand he made of you and responding to them each in kind. Your hands wound around his neck and tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging on the silky, feathery strands, drawing a small whimper out of him as he wedged himself impossibly closer to you. Yet the sound broke you out of whatever daze you had fallen into, so, with a gasp, you ripped yourself away from him, resting your forehead at the dip of his collarbone as you tried to catch your breath.

“No,” you said. “No, I shouldn’t have — we shouldn’t have — you have to go.”

“Why not?” he said. “You said you shouldn’t have, but you did. Why do you wish you hadn’t?”

“You have to leave,” you said, and then you were crying again, soaking his shirt with your tears as the weight of what you had done began to smother you.

“Let go of me first,” he said. Your fingers, still in his hair, flexed but did not loosen. “Y/N. If you really want me to go, I’ll go, but you have to — you have to let go of me first. You have to be the one to do it.”

You wept harder, because you did not know how to let go of him, because you could not fathom doing it, but neither did you want him to let you go first. It was shameful and wrong, but the truth was that, more than anything, you wished for him to stay, to blot away your tears and lay you in your bed so you could sleep the entire night away.

Somehow, you found the strength in you to yank yourself away from him, all in one go. The moment they left him, it was as if your fingertips themselves mourned, aching to return to their rightful place, but instead of obliging, you used them to cover your eyes. Anything to avoid looking at him. Anything to avoid seeing the anguished expression that most certainly marred his features. Anything to avoid knowing that you were the one who had caused it.

You didn’t look up again until you heard the front door close, and then it was all you could do to turn off the bathroom lights and make it to your bed, crashing into the pillows and somehow managing to fall asleep.

As soon as Yayoi was feeling back to her usual self, you sent her a cryptic text essentially commanding her to meet you at your usual spot for food whenever she could. Thankfully, she recognized when you were having an actual problem versus when you just missed her, and she told you she was free that very evening, so you didn’t have to simmer in your thoughts for any longer than you already had.

“Your brother kissed me,” you said when you sat down across from her.

“Hello to you, too,” she said, closing her menu and setting it to the side. She had only even looked at it as a formality; both of you ordered the same thing every time, so opening the menu was meaningless at this point.

“Hello, Yayoi,” you said. “Tabito kissed me.”

“That’s what you wanted to talk about?” she guessed.

“Yes,” you said. “It happened the other night. I would’ve called you earlier, but you were sick, so I didn’t want to.”

“Alright. It’s a little awkward for me, considering he’s my brother and all, but I’ll set aside my biases and do my best. How do you feel right now?”

“I have no idea. How do you feel?” you said, perplexed by the lack of reaction she was displaying.

“Why would I feel anything?” she said.

“Because? Your best friend just told you that your little brother kissed her? Aren’t you mad?” you said.

“Not really,” she said. “I’m surprised it took him this long, honestly. Everyone knows he’s been in love with you for ages.”

“Everyone?” you said.

“Everyone,” she agreed. “Most of our friends, all of my family, both of your parents…he hasn’t really tried too hard to hide it. I’m pretty sure most of them think you like him, too, but I don’t want to make assumptions, which is why I’m asking you how you feel about it all.”

“How did I miss it?” you said. “I didn’t realize right up until — well, you know — that he liked me, let alone for so long.”

“Sometimes people only see what they think they see,” she said. “You thought Tabito would never like you, so that’s what you believed. But he could, and he did. Now what?”

“Now nothing!” you said. “What am I supposed to do, date him? That’s just wrong!”

“Why is it wrong?” she said. “By the way, I’m not all too invested in any particular outcome, just as long as you’re happy, so don’t think I’m trying to steer you towards any specific path. I just want you to be fully honest with yourself before you jump to making decisions about any of this.”

“Thanks,” you said. “Okay, well, first off, he’s your — you, as in my best friend — little brother.”

“Not yours, though,” she said.

“But as good as,” you said.

“I wouldn’t say so. You’ve never treated him like a sibling,” she said. “That’s not to say you don’t care about him, but it’s in a different way than a sister would.”

“He’s also younger than me,” you said.

“Yukimiya’s younger than I am, and we’re perfectly happy. Plus, you were the first to say that there weren’t any issues with that, so why’s it a problem now?” she said, raising an eyebrow at you.

“But that’s — that’s different! You met him only recently. I’ve known Tabito since we were little kids! Doesn’t that make it weird?” you said.

“People get married to their childhood friends all of the time. It’s not that unusual,” Yayoi said. “Is there anything else?”

“No, it’s just strange, that’s all!” you said. “You seriously don’t find it even a little odd?”

“I’ve had a lot longer to adjust to it than you have,” she said with a shrug, sipping on the soda she had ordered with her meal. “Let’s approach this in a different way. What about if you both were the same age, and you met later in life? In a university lecture or something. If that was the case, and he asked you out, would you say yes?”

“Absolutely,” you said without hesitation. “That was a stupid question. Who would say no? He’s smart, he’s good at pretty much everything, he’s sweet and funny and caring; additionally, from an objective standpoint, he’s incredibly attractive. I’d do everything I could to keep him if he happened to glance my way.”

“Even if he ended up being younger than you?” Yayoi said.

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, I — oh.”

She gave you a dull look. “Just so you know, that is not a sisterly way to view a guy.”

“I got that,” you said.

“Do you think maybe it’s possible that you’ve loved him too, almost the entire time?” she said. “Maybe even before you understood what it meant to love someone else? Back when sibling was the closest relationship to another kid that you, as an only child, could conceive of?”

“I guess that that — that’s definitely a possibility,” you said.

“It could be,” she said. “And then the notion of him being your ‘brother’ became so set in your mind that you couldn’t possibly think of him as anything else.”

“There’s a chance that that was what happened,” you said slowly. “But I don’t feel what I did for Aoyama when I look at Tabito. It’s something else entirely.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t love Tabito,” Yayoi said, flagging down the waiter so you could pay for your food. “It just means you didn’t love Aoyama, or didn’t love him as much. Considering which one is still in your life and which one you haven’t spoken to in years, it’s not unlikely.”

“What do I do now, then?” you said.

“What do you want to do?” she said as the two of you exited the restaurant. “I’ll be your friend no matter what. In the end, it’s up to you.”

“I don’t want to lose him,” you said, suddenly terrified. “I won’t survive if I do. Yayoi, I don’t…”

“You can’t,” she reassured you. “If you haven’t lost him yet, then I don’t think it’s possible for you to. But you know, then, right? What’s next?”

“I do,” you said, taking out your phone and picking up speed, veering in a different direction, turning over your shoulder to shout back at her. “Thank you, Yayoi!”

“Good luck!” she shouted back as you took off at a run, holding your phone up to your ear.

“Otoya,” you said breathlessly, as soon as he picked up. “Otoya, is Tabito there?”

“Uh, Y/N? Yeah, Karasu’s cooking dinner, why?” he said. “You good?”

“I’m coming over,” you said. “Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere, and buzz me in when I get there. This is me calling in that favor you owe me, so do a good fucking job at it, okay?”

“Sure, I can, but why don’t you just ask him to do it directly?” he said.

“I don’t think he’ll pick up if I call him at the moment,” you said.

“Trouble in paradise? This is why I don’t do the whole ‘commitment’ gig. Too many complications,” Otoya said with a scoff. “Fine, I’ll help you, but only because — like you said — I owe you one, and because I’m going to evacuate the apartment as soon as you get here so I’m not caught in the crossfire.”

“Thank you,” you said. “That’s perfect. You rock.”

“Yup, you got it. See you.”

The elevator took too long, so after waiting for thirty seconds, you gave up and went for the stairs, taking them two at a time until you reached the floor that Tabito and Otoya lived on. Then you knocked on the door, waiting with crossed arms until it swung open and revealed Otoya, dressed in a pair of rubber-ducky boxers and nothing more.

“Well, that’s my cue,” he said when he saw it was you.

“Where are you even going to go, dressed like that?” you said, momentarily distracted by the outfit, which was all but offensive to the eye. Otoya winked at you.

“There’s plenty of people in this complex that would welcome me dressed like this,” he said, walking out with a devilish grin. “I’ll go see one of them.”

“You have fun,” you said, unable to do anything but shake your head at the rakish response.

“I definitely will. You…do your best with Karasu. He’s been kinda down, so it’d be great if you could fix him right up again, because his pasta tastes shitty when he’s in a bad mood,” he said, saluting at you before vanishing into the closing elevator.

“Who was at the door?” Tabito said. He wore the pale green apron with white polka dots you had loaned him and never asked for back, and there was a wooden spoon in his right hand, which he used to stir a pot of sauce. “Hello? Otoya? Was it one of your exes again or something? Dude, you’ve gotta stop giving them our address, this is the third time this month that some girl has come to harass you.”

You were still for a moment, standing in the doorway, watching the muscles of his back tighten and then relax as he finished mixing the sauce, setting the spoon down on its stand and putting the lid back on the pot.

“Damn, silent treatment? Was it that bad? It’s your own fault, you dumbass,” he said. “It’s not like I tell you to bring them over. You do that all on your own, and these are the consequences you face as a result. Don’t blame me for it.”

What would you even tell him? He turned the stove to simmer, and you opened your mouth before closing it. You had no idea what to say. You had no idea what was even going on in your mind — you had left Yayoi with such an urgency that you hadn’t had the time to organize your thoughts as you would’ve liked to before such an important moment.

He turned around while untying his apron, his mouth curved into a sneer as he prepared to taunt who he must’ve thought was Otoya messing with him. Yet when he realized it was you, his face fell, as if just by standing there you had reprimanded him harshly.

“Y/N,” he said. You wondered how he could do it, how he could bear to still say your name with the same affection as always. Why hadn’t he left you? Why hadn’t he given up a long time ago? What had you ever done to be worthy of this kind of loyalty? What had you ever done to deserve a person like him?

A lump swelled in your throat, and the harder you tried to swallow it down, the more your eyesight prickled and blurred, until you could hardly see anything at all. For a second you were frozen, and then vaguely you were aware of him taking a step towards you and your inhibitions were lost entirely.

Crossing the expanse of the small kitchen and casting yourself into his embrace, you clung to his neck, crying in earnest when he held onto you as if by instinct, because the way he clutched your waist felt like coming home. He felt like coming home. He felt like butterflies in the spring and leaves in the fall and ice cream in the summer and storms in the winter and every other little thing from your life which you could only ever associate with him.

“I love you,” you said. “I’m sorry, I love you, I love you so much I didn’t even realize it but I do now, I do, and I can finally see that I love you more than anything or anyone, Tabito, so please still love me back, please—”

“Shh,” he murmured, one of his hands moving up and down your back. “Don’t cry. There’s no reason to cry. Y/N, Y/N, don’t cry, I hate it when you cry.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again. “I was such a fool. I didn’t comprehend it, any of it, because I’ve loved you since before I understood what the word love meant.”

He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose, over and over until your tears abated, and only then did he speak.

“I’ve loved you for longer,” he said. “I loved you before I even knew you.”

“And do you still?” you said.

“Yes,” he said. “I couldn’t stop so quickly.”

“Don’t ever stop,” you said. “But if you do, if you must, then keep it to yourself. I want to at least imagine that you’ll keep loving me for — for a long time.

“Oh, Y/N,” he said. “You don’t have to imagine that. I’ll love you forever if you want it.”

“I do,” you said. “I do want it.”

His lips ghosted along your temple as he smiled. Then, right before they fit against your own, he murmured: “Then that’s what I’ll do.”

Though you had neither reason nor proof, you found that, wholeheartedly and fully, with all that you were, you believed him.

[lastoneout]

It's also like super fucking infuriating to see people continue to argue that generative AI is the best way for disabled and/or poor people to make art because like, you know what helps make art more accessible? Giving poor and disabled people money.

Like take me for instance, I'm disabled. I get severe migraines and intense leg/back pain if I sit at my computer for too long, my hEDS makes holding pens and pencils hard, my ADHD makes it hard for me to start certain tasks and/or stop them before I potentially hurt myself, my neck also hurts if I look down too much, my dyslexia AND my ADHD both make it difficult to keep track of a story as I write and use correct spelling and grammar, plus, I need to prioritize taking care of myself and going to appointments and keeping my house clean and that takes up a lot of my free time. All of these things make creating the kind of art I want to create difficult if not occasionally impossible.

So what do you think would solve my problems better? Giving me money so that I can have a drawing tablet and desk chair that won't hurt my neck or back, another tablet + pen and a lap table and comfortable body pillows for drawing in bed, easier transportation to my doctors appointments, effective treatment for my chronic pain and migraines, the ability hire someone to help me keep my house clean, a spelling/grammar checker that isn't complete ass, and a therapist and psychatrist who can help me manage my ADHD better?

Or an AI program that takes my input and spits out a drawing or story made of stolen content glued together that, in the case of the art, I cannot meaningfully edit without starting over, which also destroys the environment in the process?

Seems pretty obvious to me. I don't need AI, I need help to manage the things that are actually stopping me from being able to write and draw.

Or take my mom. She's had severe rhumatoid arthritis since she was a small child, her hands are deformed and she relies on her wheelchair to get around. She doesn't need AI to help her paint, she needs special paint brushes she can actually hold, a table her wheelchair will fit at, and someone to help her with personal hygiene/keep her house clean/take her to doctors appointments so she actually has free time to paint.

Does that poor kid growing up in public housing with parents who are too poor to afford art classes or supplies or to send them to college really need a computer program to draw for them, or do they need support to help them take those classes, buy drawing supplies, and money so they can go to college.

Blind people can paint, deaf musicians exist, people with missing limbs find all sorts of ways to make art, people with parkinson's paint with typewriters, my mother can't hold a normal paintbrush and she makes some of the most beautiful watercolor paintings I've ever seen, Van Gogh had bipolar disorder and only sold like one painting when he was alive, I mean for real how many different artists have you heard of who's biographies start with them being born into poverty?

This is not meant to be inspiration porn, these people are just ones who were able to find ways to make art despite their struggles. They shouldn't have had to struggle at all, but god imagine how many more artisrs and writers we could have had if none of them had to overcome those struggles. It breaks my heart to think of all the wonderful art that never got to exist because no one helped the people who could have made it actually have the time, money, support, and safety they needed to make it. AI would not have saved them because making art isn't the problem, being disadvantaged is the problem. Living in a world that refuses to make room for you is the problem. Being fucking poor is the problem. Humans have always found ways to make art despite huge barriers, the solution isn't a computer that makes art for them, it's SUPPORT AND MONEY SO THEY CAN OVERCOME THOSE BARRIERS AND MAKE THEIR OWN ART.

As a last example: I love watching dancing and I would love to be able to dance, but I'm terrible at it(I got kicked off a dance team for not being able to learn the dance at all despite spending weeks on it, idk my brain wasn't made for dancing) and my disabled body makes it more pain than pleasure if not actively dangerous, anyway. Having a robot dressed to look like me dance next to me while I get to watch would not make me feel like I'm getting to dance. It would actually be extremely fucking demoralizing and frustrating. I would hate that!!

Having an AI spit out a painting or book would not make me feel like I got to paint or write a book. It's a fucking anamatronic doll running on stolen ideas and it will never be the same as getting to actually expirience the joy of creating art first hand. AI is not the solution. Helping people who need it is the solution. And I am CONSTANTLY pissed to think about all the time and money that goes into these fucking AI programs that would be better spent helping disabled and poor people get the help they need so they can make art themselves, all while the people running the nightmare plagiarism pollution machines pretend that their horrible inventions exist to help people like me.

[evenmorefatallyobsessed]

Milfs Models Candidates

Okay, so after many suggestions and research I've found some more possible Milf Candidates for me to make in the future. I would say don't judge me... But I think that'd be a lost cause.

Milf 01. Tsuki Uzaki

Y'know it's funny, I actually hate Hana, like she is kinda insufferable to me, I feel bad for Shinichi... Her mother, and sister (And Maybe Brother?) on the other hand... Yeah Tsuki is a top Class Milf.

Milf 02. Mitsuki Bakugo

I love her look, her attitude, just a perfect Milf, I shouldn't have to say more...

Milf 03. Nana Shimura

Muscle Momm-'Cough, Cough' Sorry, anyways, I like Nana, in the same way I like Endeavor, that is to say I like how their flawed individuals. But her flaw is the same as Summer's, she cares too much about doing good to the point where she hurt those close to her... Honestly someone should've slapped some sense into her when she decided to abandon her son. Like I get it, she just lost her husband the big bad would've targeted him... BUT C'MON!!! WHY WOULD YOU THINK OFA WASN'T ALREADY TARGETING YOU!!! Like she gets some leeway because obviously after just losing her husband she couldn't have been in the right state of mind but someone should've realized that possibility.

Milf 04. Lusamine

I hesitated with her mainly because I'd have to use the Hair accessories for her, and wouldn't be able to make other hair styles convincingly. But Yeah I'll probably be making her soon, cuz damn man, she's up there with Cynthia.

Milf 05. Susan Luong-Long

I, and I'm sure a good number of guys (And Girls) who blame this character for our fascination with Asian mommies...

Milf 06. Delia Ketchum

Honestly lowkey one of the best Pokémon Milfs.

Milf 07. Pokémon Black & White's Mom

Yeah, Pokémon knows exactly what it's doing by making Milfs like this...

Milf 08. Johanna (Dawn's Mom)

I Love Her Design, it's rather simple but utterly perfect!

Milf 09. Grace (Pokémon X & Y's Mom)

A sporty, country, mom who looks like she's ready to ride a bull, they really didn't use her near enough.

Milf 10. Prof. Sada

She makes me return to monke... those abs make, that tan, her wild look. Just, y'know a lot of people bought Scarlet for her alone...

Milf 11. Pokémon Scarlet & Violet's Mom

Penny was right, their mom is hot... I prefer the model with paler skin and deep brown hair myself.

Milf 12. Pokémon Sword & Shield's Mom

Not gonna lie, never played sword or shield, but I gotta say, she is a pretty mom. I like the glasses look with the overalls, gives her a fun vibe. I feel like there'll be a shock factor if I put her in other outfits too, so that'll be fun to see.

Milf 13. Pokémon Black & White 2's Mom

Mostly I wanna make her cuz there is a absolute lack of content of her and I'm kinda digging the idea of making her look utterly different with her hair down.

Milf 14. Lila Test

Y'know, I already wanna make Susan & Mary Test for Dexter when I get to him, so why not the mom too.

Milf 15. Charlotte Pickles

These three images convinced me, at first I couldn't see it, but thank you Anon, I've been shown the light. I like Milf in suits apparently... I learned something new about myself.

Milf 16. Jane Jetson

Ahh, Boomerang, how I miss you, this is just a Atlas Mom to me, and I feel like this further proves my childhood interest in redheads...

Milf 17. Wilma Flintstone

Y'know, I would complain that I can't find a decent pic of Wilma without Betty in it... Wait, No I Wouldn't! She next anyways. Well, this only serves to prove the whole Redheads thing lil' me had going on. I'mma say there from a Secluded Vacuian tribe, fucking savages... Hot, hot savage Milf.

Milf 18. Betty Rubble

Cavewoman are justice, and need to reenter the genepool of Remnant.

Milf 19. Carol from OK K.O.

Okay, so recently someone's ask me to make characters from OK K.O. Let's Be Heroes. Specifically Fink & Wilhamena, and to that all I have to say is... HOW DARE YOU NOT MENTION CAROL!!! Dude! Tanned Muscle Mommy! Seriously, she looks like she could be a badass. Not sure how faithful to the design I can be, or well want to be but I definitely like this character.

Milf 20. Wilhamena from OK K.O.

I mean, I get why so many people brought her up, I am looking forward to making this design, seems like it'd be fun. Still kinow nothing about the show though...

Okay, Last four... Gonna get a bit weird, feel free to judge me -_-

Milf 21. Nicole Watterson

I'd probably use the middle design as her actual model in Remnant making her a Faunus. Her Semblance would be '2D' Which references her cartoon origin but also can me Two Ds/ Doppelgangers, but well neither actually look like her but she can share her senses with them or have them act independently.

Milf 22. Lin (Millie's Mom)

Not gonna lie, I wanna make her half to have her get hate fucked (At Least at first), not the most honorable of intentions but FUCK HER!!! I get she's Millie's Mom, and a seemingly good one, but she hates Moxxie Way Too Much! How Can You Hate Moxxie! He's Adorable and a utterly devoted Husband! What, Just Cuz He's Not Country Strong, Fuck Off, No, Fuck Her! Fuck All The Bitch Outta This Milf With a Big Human Cock!

Milf 23. Toriel from Undertale

She is Literally the Goat HAHAHA!!! Okay but seriously I kinda have to make her. There is just WAY too much content for me to have ignored her. I typed in Game Milfs and this Goat showed up more then the Pokémon Moms.

Milf 24. Mrs. Kattswell

... God Dammit, I'm a fucking furry...

[slut4satoru-blog]

Parent-Teacher Conference—Toji Fushiguro-Zenin. +18 CONTENT MINORS DNI

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a singledad!Toji fic to fill my empty heart. i’m a slut for toji and i hope you guys are too. making this a 3 part series! please enjoyyyyyyy. 💜

content warnings: f!reader, AFAB, tiny kabedon, height difference, healthy age gap (6 years), trying my best to keep body descriptions to a minimum, hickeys, sex toys, marking, jealousy, slight possessiveness, oral (f!receiving), tiddie sucking <3, fingering, edging, public use of sex toy, pet names, and whatever else might had slipped my mind.

word count: 2.2k

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

It’s been a busy 2 weeks with the PT conference being tomorrow. I have 0 time for myself. There’s two places I’m always at, either at school teaching my students or at home grading and preparing student reports. The end of the 10 weeks is always a mess. At least I teach High School, and my kids are so good they help me with the stuff.

There’s always a few students from each class that volunteer to help organize and store papers and that has helped me for sure. Like whenever Nobara, Yuuji and Megumi from my 10th grade class stay after school every Tuesday to help me out. They really are the best and I 100% could not survive without them. Talking about the kids, Megumi is really special. I’ve literally taught him since middle school, and it’s kind of funny because when I first started teaching him he would accidentally call me “mom” sometimes, his cute little face always made me smile. I remember when his mother passed away and I attended the service, it was the first time I saw his dad.

Toji Fushiguro, what a sight to remember. He was one of those people I knew I would never forget about. Year after year, conference after conference Toji and I’s friendship grew closer. Of course, always formal since he is my student’s dad. But there’s always a part of me that dreams of it being more than just that. The way he would slightly touch my hand with his fingers, acting as if nothing happened. Whenever he says “Hello” and puts his hand on my waist as he brings me in for a hug. I swear, one time that man was as hard as a rock and he just acted so normally. His tall, muscular build haunted me in my dreams.

Every single night, I would dream about him ravaging me in different positions. The way he would eat me out, fuck me senseless. I would imagine how he could roughly handle me and just how good he would feel inside of me, leaving me clenching around my fingers as I tried to satiate the need for his cock. However, every single morning I had to remind myself that it would never change. At least that’s what I always thought.

I decided to get up 1 hour earlier and get myself ready. Since today we had no class and I wasn't going to deal with any cooking, I wouldn’t have to wear my go-to chef uniform. Rummaging through my clothes, I decided to wear a simple emerald green and black pants suit, along with some 2 inch closed platforms. Also, I took the opportunity to wear some makeup and style my hair since I rarely got the chance to do so in school.

Once I arrived at the Jujutsu Technical School campus I quickly went up to finish setting up my lab to greet the parents and guardians of my students. For each parent student teacher conference I would have the kids make something for their families so they could snack as they picked up the grades for the quarter and discuss some details with me. They all decided to make some cake pops and they looked adorable. Some are movie themed, others by colors and even by aesthetics. Kids these days, am I right? When I finished everything I decided to sit patiently at my desk and wait for all of the parents to arrive.

Not to my surprise, Toji arrived first. I could sense his presence even with me being against the door. His sultry, silky and sinful voice decided to greet me. “Hey there Ms. _____. It’s been too long since our last encounter.” I turned my seat around to face him, getting startled as he was way closer than I anticipated. His hand went for my arm, sliding one finger over my bare hands. “Hi Sir, it’s a pleasure to see you get here so early. As you know, Gumi’s sweets are at the left corner of the table. You can grab the cake pops he made you and Sumi this time. He worked really hard on them.”

He looked at the table, walked up to it and got his and Tsumiki’s bag and returned to my desk. He shoved the sweets in his pocket and plopped his hands to either side of my desk. Trapping me in to smell his fresh, clean cologne. “I was thinking of doing some experiments. What do you think? Megumi tells me about everything you guys do in this class. And, it gets me thinking. Are you as fun in bed as you are in the classroom? I’m sorry Ms. ____ but I know I’m not the only one that feels this tension.”

He stopped for a second, eyed me up and down. Taking one of his hands and moving it to my chin as he lifted it up to continue his sermon. “I‘ve seen the way you look at me. How your thighs clench whenever I tease you. I’m not blind you know? And you’re not hiding it now either.” He took his eyes off of mine and dragged them across my body. I could feel his intense stare burning through the fabric. Starting a fire in my core that would soon become too hot to control.

“Sir, this isn’t right… Anyone can come up now and see us like this. I work here, I don’t want to risk that for whatever my body feels like. I can deal with it later. This is wrong.” I tried to believe the words that came out of my mouth. We both knew i was lying about it not being right. We were both adults, he was only a few years older than me since he had Megumi at 16. We were only 6 years apart, so it wasn’t inmoral. However, there was something about this being too good to be true. I just couldn’t wrap my head around how things were happening.

“Can we try something? Please? I swear if you say no I won’t bother you after this.” He opened his black suitcase that he always brought to store all the papers us teachers would bring to the parents. Once it was open, he pulled out a weirdly shaped pink toy. I’ve seen this before, it’s called a love sense. He saw the way my eyes lit up to the toy and asked. “I figure you’re familiar with this, right? I promise I’ll behave if you’re a good girl.”

I stood up and walked up to the door. Looking at the empty hallways since the pt conference was 30 minutes away. “Am i really about to do this…?” I whispered to myself as I closed my lab’s room and locked it. I went to Toji, sat on top of my desk and responded. “I’ll allow this… experiment. But you have to promise not to go too far. This is my job, and I’m not willing to lose it because I moaned while talking about bread.” He laughed at my remarks and sighed beautifully, standing between my legs and wrapping me in his arms. I could feel his cinnamony breath near my lips as he spoke. “Don’t worry darling, this thing is nothing compared to what I want to do to you. Consider this preparation for what comes next.”

Without saying more, he leaned in to kiss me almost as if he was afraid of ruining whatever it is that we had these past years. His hands diligently went under my satin shirt, taking it out of the pants to grope my tits. “They’re so soft, I could drown here.” He whispered in your ears as he lifted the shirt up completely to suck on them, leaving cute little markings all along them. “Just wait till you see my ass.” I playfully dared him, ruffling one of my hands through his soft, black hair as i left one of my hands on the desk for support. Throwing my head back as he sucked my nipples with such expertise. It really felt like he was french kissing me there.

“Oh, please don’t stop. This feels so good.” I whined at him as I started feeling new sensations, I had never before felt so sensitive on my breasts. Maybe because of my lack of sex partners. It had been such a bad experience with none of my other flings getting me to orgasm. So frustrating I ended up stopping all together. I could feel his grin across my nipple as he slowly popped it as he let it go. “Time to see that ass babe, can’t wait any longer.”

He flipped me skillfully, carefully pulling down my pants & lingerie that I wore that day. “All wet for me baby? So nice and plump; you keep wrapping me up in your little finger, huh?” He took one of his hands and teasingly slid it across my slit. I shuddered; his cold, big fingers clashing against my hot plump core. He started to play with my arousal, slipping it up and down. Occasionally grazing above my clit as to piss me off. “Toji, please. We have 15 minutes until the parents arrive. Just fuck me already.”

“Fuck you? Oh no baby girl, you’ve got it all wrong. You see…” He stopped talking for a second, and I groaned when I felt his mouth on my clit. Skillfully eating me out like he had 1,000 years of experience. “My plan isn’t to fuck you now.” He planted another kiss on my cunt, tongue skimming all through my folds. “We‘ll talk about that later. ‘Kay sweetheart?”. With that he stopped, removing himself from my needy core and slipped the toy inside of me, filling me up instantly as a moan slipped through my teeth.

“Remember, this is connected to my phone. You better act nice if you want me to be nice.” He grinned like a man-whore and I enjoyed every single of it. He licked my thighs to “clean-up after himself” and then wiped it dry with some tissue I had laying around. After that, he walked to the chair in the back and waited for the classroom/lab to fill up with more parents.

“Hello, thank you all for attending today’s PT Conference. I’m Ms. _____ and as you all probably know by now, I’m your kid’s Culinary Arts elective course teacher….” I roughly explained the next 2 big projects the kids had to make. And how the Culinary Arts elective course was partnering up with the Science program to form a “Food Science” exhibition for the upcoming science fair. It was all going good. Actually, too good. I would eye up Toji every now and then but he was never looking at me, just looking at his phone. Mysteriously the vibrator was off for all of my speech. I was kind of glad, I didn't want to trip on my words or embarrass myself. However, things started to take a turn when parents started to ask to see me after class.

When Mr. Nanami, Yuuji’s foster dad, asked to see me after class. That was the moment I felt the vibration instantly turn on. It was slow, steady motions that started to relieve the tension I had going on. I said my goodbyes to all the parents, and when my lab was almost empty, since Toji refused to leave, Mr. Nanami went up to me. “Hey Ms.____ I was wondering if i could ask you something about Yuuji’s grades. You see, he’s having some trouble with math and since I know this course involves a lot of that i was wondering if you would be willing to tutor him. I would be paying, of course. It could be over at our home or we could meet up at some place of your choosing.”

I gave him a tiny smile, he was always so observant over Yuuji. “Of course! We can work something out. He always works my math out easily, I imagine it’s because I try my best to break everything down before giving it to them. Thanks for your concern on Yuuji. He’s a bright kid, he’s in good hands.” I put my hand on top of his to give him security, and in that instant I felt how the vibrator just jumped in velocity. It was hard, inconsistent and just random and all over the place. I contained myself from yelping and decided to shift in my seat instead. When I looked over at Toji there he was, man-spreading in all of his glory swiping his phone in different directions as he looked intensely at how my hand rested in top of Nanami’s.

Nanami ended the conversation shortly, handing me his business card that contained his contact information so we could set up the meetings and left quickly, not forgetting to wave at Toji at the end of the room. Toji stood up, and waved him a tiny goodbye as he walked towards me. Long, slow steps making small clacks across the marbled floor. He looked at his phone once more and swiped up, leaving the vibrator at the highest speed as I tried to shush the moans that escaped my mouth. Eventually giving in as i sat in my comfy chair.

“I told you I would behave if you were a good girl. But you just had to make me jealous, didn’t you?”

Masterlist

part 2, part 3

[heavyhitterheaux]

Drive Safe Part 2

First Lady of Private Garden Fic (Alternate Universe)

AN: 😉😉😉

Synopsis: Jack has to deal with the aftermath of releasing Drive Safe and you learning that the song was about you. He is trying to do anything to make you forgive him, including confronting your best friend about something that happened between the two of them

Pairing: Ex-husband!Jack Harlow x Ex-wife!Reader

Read Part 1 First

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

After you told Jack to get out the house, you went and locked yourself in your studio so that he was able to get all of his belongings out of your shared bedroom. 

But you knew he wasn't going to leave without a fight and kept knocking on the studio door and pleading with you to open it.

“Baby, please let me fix this. I'm going to fix this. Just open the door so we can talk.” Jack pleaded with you as you had a steady stream of tears running down your face.

When you were quiet, he spoke up again.

“I know I messed up, but I'm going to prove to you that I deserve to have another chance. I love you and that’s never going to change. I fell in love with you when I was fourteen and that's not going away anytime soon.”

Once you heard his footsteps walk away from the door, you waited a few minutes before calling Urban. Because at this point, you didn't know what to do anymore.

Of course he picked up on the first ring. 

“Lil Bit…”

You couldn't even get any words out and Urban immediately just heard you sobbing.

“I'm coming, okay? Be there soon.” He said and quickly hung up. You were simply sitting on the floor and trying to stop yourself from going into a full blown panic attack. 

You sent him a text to let him know that you were in the studio and did your best to get up off the floor in order to be able to open the door for him. The tears continued to flow as you sat on the couch and simply stared off into space in disbelief. About 20 minutes later, Urban was walking through the door and simply came and sat next to you while he wrapped his arms around you and you cried into his chest.

“I know and I'm sorry my best friend is an asshole. He didn't even warn me before he did it either.” 

Every time you tried to talk, it just came out as sobs and he got nervous knowing that a panic attack was going to follow.

“Y/N, I need you to breathe. Not only for yourself, but for the babies. Take slow deep breaths for me.”

It took you a few minutes to even your breathing, but once you did you finally spoke.

“Urban, what did I do to deserve this?” You whispered while starting to play with the end of your curly hair.

“You didn't do anything for him to talk about you the way that he did. You've given him chance after chance but he keeps fucking it up.”

“My ex-husband writes songs about me and bashes me all while accusing me of doing something that I had no intention to do from the beginning, my supposed friends took his side when I filed for divorce and basically said I was a shitty person, but would have done anything for them, my so called other best friend probably fucked my husband but both of them steadily deny it, and I'm pregnant with three kids. How the fuck can I bring them into the world when my life is a dumpster fire? I am literally in this by myself because everyone has turned their back on me. Well, except you, which I'm very grateful for.” You said being completely honest as the tears were starting to slow down.

“I'm never going to turn my back on you. You are going to be the best mother to the three of them and that goes without saying. I can't speak for everyone else in PG, but we all know how wrong Jack was and I told him off about it. I said from the beginning before he even got signed that I would cuss his ass out if he ever did anything to hurt you. I was like she's been there since forever when your ass didn't have a damn thing to your name and not to switch up when he got famous, but of course that went in one ear and out the other.” As soon as that came out of his mouth, his phone started to ring and he looked down to see that it was Jack.

He looked back up at you as if he was asking for permission and you simply shrugged.

“You're his best friend too.” Was all you said before he decided to answer it. When he did, you could tell that Jack had actually been crying.

“Jack.” Was all Urban said before Jack started having a full blown meltdown.

“Urb, I fucked up. I fucked up bad. She's literally never going to forgive me for this.”

“Hmm, so why did you do it in the first place?”

“I overheard her talking to Taylor and I… accused her of going to file for full custody when that was never her intention. I thought that she was agreeing with her. I got pissed, started distancing myself, and then that's when I wrote it.”

“Instead of actually talking to her?”

“Look, it wasn't my best moment, okay?” Jack answered as he ran a hand through his curls, clearly frustrated.

“You've been having shitty moments ever since you separated from her. And didn't I tell you to never forget that she was actually there when you didn't have a damn thing to your name?”

“I know…”

“Be honest with me for a second.” Urban started to say before sighing.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“Did you cheat on her with Taylor? Or cheat on her at all?”

“Urb! Why the fuck would you ask me that!?”

“You know the fuck why so answer the question.” Urban fired back and you were sitting there simply listening.

“I have never cheated on her with Taylor or anyone else. She is literally the only person I want. I admit that when I went to see Taylor when I was upset it wasn't my best idea because when I finished explaining to her how I felt about the whole situation, she tried to kiss me, but I immediately pushed her away from me. That's why I haven't really been around her. I’ve hurt Y/N enough and I’ll be damned if I cheat on the person that I’m trying to get to marry me again.”

Both of your mouths were hanging wide open.

“And why didn't you tell her this!? So you just let her have fake ass friends around her!?”

“I… Y/N loves her! I didn't know how to tell her that and besides if I had told her at that time, she probably wouldn't have believed me!”

“She needs to hear that from you as soon as possible.”

“How? She doesn't want to talk to me.”

“Then you better have a good ass plan to get her to. I’m tired of this and I’m not even in the damn relationship.”

“Do you think that she'll ever forgive me?” Jack asked hopeful, but all Urban did was look at you. When you didn't give him an answer, he came up with the best response that he could.

“You want me to be honest? No. I don't think she ever will. But only time will tell.” 

A few days had passed and Jack had simply been moping around his condo in his feelings and trying to think of a way to get you to talk to him. He wanted to tell you about Taylor, but he didn't know where to start or even how to bring it up in a conversation. He always told you that he would never cheat on you and the thought had never crossed his mind even when you did file for divorce. He felt as if she wasn't actually being a good friend to you and actually driving the two of you apart even further. That was when he sent a text to her since his thought process was if you had actually heard it from her, then maybe just maybe you would talk to him.

Jack- Taylor, you need to tell her

Taylor- Hi to you too and what are you talking about?

Jack- Don’t play dumb

Taylor- Nothing happened so there's nothing to tell

Jack- But it would have if I didn't move and the fact that you even thought it was okay to do that is a problem in itself. She adores you, but you decided to try and kiss her husband

Taylor- And you're the one who would come to me all times of the night and talking shit about what she had done looking for sympathy. Does she know that?

Jack- I needed someone to listen! I would NEVER cheat on my wife. She's my first love. 

Taylor- Ex-wife, remember?

Jack- Either you tell her or I will

Taylor- You honestly think that she's going to believe you?

Jack- Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be

Taylor- Oh how the tables have turned. I recall you REJOICING when she brought up divorce but now you're begging her to take you back?

Jack- Because that's what I thought I wanted, but I don't anymore. I want my wife and my kids. And what the hell was up with you telling her to file for full custody?

Taylor- I was just giving her options. That's all.

Jack- Sounded like you were trying to drive a deeper wedge between us.

Taylor- Think what you want, but my intentions were never to hurt either of you. I'll be honest and I'll tell her knowing that she's never going to forgive me

Jack- Well your ass should have thought about that. She's been nothing but good to you.

Taylor- And I can say the exact same thing to you

Jack- Look just tell me when you talk to her

Jack then threw his phone on the couch beside him and let out a sigh. He had no idea if Taylor was actually going to go through with It, but if she didn't he would have no choice but to tell you himself. He knew that you had another doctor's appointment in about two weeks and was hoping that you would at least talk to him before that. He looked at his phone again before grabbing it and sending you a text.

Jack- Baby, I just want to talk. Please.

He saw where you had read the text and nothing more came after that.

Meanwhile, you were at home when you decided to make peach cobbler cheesecake since you had been bored out of your mind. Ever since the song came out and you kicked Jack out of the house, you had been keeping to yourself and staying inside with Urban, your parents, Jack's parents, Clay, Dani, and your best friends checking on you. 

Even your so-called best friend Taylor

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but something was off with her and she had been acting differently ever since you told her that you wanted to divorce Jack. She didn't really say that she supported you, but didn't exactly say that she didn't either.

But in your heart of hearts, you knew that something happened between them but you just didn't know what.

You wanted to believe Jack, you truly did, but you just didn't know.

There was movement detected on your ring camera and you looked to see that it was Neelam and quickly rolled your eyes. You already knew that she wasn't here to check on you and probably only showed up for her own benefit and anything concerning Jack.

Unblocking her number quickly from your phone, you sent a quick text.

Because ever since the song came out, everyone associated with Jack got blocked. Including everyone in PG except Urban.

You- Please leave immediately 

Neelam- Y/N, I just want to talk

You- Yeah, you and everyone else. You don't like me, remember? And you were glad that in your words, ‘Jack got rid of her’

Neelam- Not my best moment, but I wanted to apologize 

You- Let me guess. Apologize for your own benefit. In other words, Jack has been in his feelings and not wanting to work and you need me to talk to him so that he does.

Neelam- Well…

You- No one gives a flying fuck about me despite everything that I have done for them. And not ONE PERSON has asked me if I'm okay except Urban. I am not talking to him and I'm not talking to you so fuck off and get the hell away from my house.

Neelam- Y/N, I really am sorry

You- You can shove that apology up your ass

Blocking her number again, you put your phone faced down as you continued to make the cheesecake. You figured that Urban would probably help you eat it since you weren't talking to 2fo. Once the cheesecake was put into the freezer to harden, you picked your phone up once again to send Jack a text.

You- Tell Neelam to fuck all the way off and leave me alone 

It took a matter of three seconds to get a response from him.

Jack- Wait, what happened?

You- Ask her

Jack threw his head back in frustration as he quickly dialed her number.

“Hello?”

“What did you do to my wife?”

“Your ex-wife and I went to see her.”

“For what? You don't like her and you've always made that clear. Even though she hasn't done a damn thing to you.”

“I…. Because even though there may be some truth to that, you were at your best when you were with her. And I wanted to see if she was okay after everything that happened, honestly. Because I see how you were after it and she told you not to come back home so….. I actually went to see her to try to convince her to talk to you. But, she wasn't having it and I get it. I was just trying to help.”

“Well don't. I've already made a big enough mess and I don't need anyone else making it worse. You should have known better, now she REALLY isn't going to want to talk to me.”

“Don't get mad at me for something that you did. No one held a gun to your head and made you release the song. And are you coming to the studio?”

“Bye Neelam.”

Jack hung up without another word and attempted to call you, but of course it went straight to voice-mail.

Wanting to take your mind off of everything that was going on around you, Urban came up with the idea of you having a maternity shoot. He was trying to get you out of the house to do it, but you steadily declined. The only time that you ever left was for your doctor’s appointments and was trying to keep your stress level non-existent.

“Y/N, getting some fresh air would do you some good.” Urban pleaded with you, but of course you shook your head no.

“No. I’m fine being in here. Hardly anyone knows about the pregnancy and I want to keep it that way until I decide to announce it.”

“But you literally don’t leave the house unless you absolutely have to.”

“What am I leaving the house for? I have food and my streaming accounts and my studio downstairs. There is literally no reason for me to leave.”

“Being by yourself all the time cannot be a good thing.”

“I don’t really have any friends anymore as far as I’m concerned. When I have them, they are going to be my primary focus. I might not even make music again. I’ll write and produce, but that might be it.”

“But you love performing, so that doesn’t sound right.”

All you did was shrug in response.

“And I love my ex-husband and look how that turned out.”

“I… wait…. As in present tense?” Urban asked while raising his eyebrows at you.

“Urban, don’t be stupid. Of course I still love him. Besides, he’s the father of these three.”

“Then can we just forgive and move on? You know he didn’t cheat on you with Taylor or with anyone else.”

“Because it’s not that simple. Time and time again he has thrown me under the bus so to speak so if he wants me to forgive him, he needs to work for it. But they both act weird when I mention the other person so something definitely did happen between them and no one wants to say anything, but one way or another I’m going to find out.”

“One thing at a time. Let’s get this shoot done first.”

“And I have the perfect outfit to wear for it.”

—

Liked by danivalentine, claybornharlow, urbanwyatt, jackharlow, saweetie, theshaderoom, theestallion, and 10,273,965 others

y/ninsta: it's you and me until the end of time. All three of you 💕

photo cred: godfather urbanwyatt 😘

jackharlow: 💖 saweetie: WHAT DO YOU MEAN ALL THREE OF YOU?!?! jackharlowsource: oh shit and she's pregnant on top of everything else happening urbandjack25: oh my damn allthingsy/n: MUVA!!!!! danivalentine: cannot wait until they get here! taylorrooks: my best friend is prettier than yours and is going to be one amazing mother! 2forwoyne: oh shloob_: I feel like I was the last to know about this quiiso: congratulations first lady yungskylark: jackharlow ummm???? jackharlowsource: sooo he wrote that song knowing that he got her pregnant? WITH TRIPLETS? normani: AHHHHHHH SO EXCITED FOR YOU claybornharlow: one is named after me right? urbanwyatt: thank you for allowing me to do this for you 🥰 y/ninsta: urbanwyatt only the best for me and my babies

After you had basically broken the internet with your pregnancy announcement, you felt as if you were suffocating and that the walls were closing in on you. That was when you decided to go to your beach house in Miami for a small getaway and you were going by yourself. You and Jack still really weren’t on speaking terms and the most interaction that you two would have would be at your doctor’s appointments. You knew that he had been annoyed with you because of you posting the announcement, but you could tell that he didn’t dwell on it because he knew that it would be another thing to be pissed with him about. 

The amount of messages flooding in from everyone wanting to apologize for how they treated you were steadily being ignored and you would answer them whenever you felt like it. Because as far as you were concerned, they thought that you were making a big deal about how Jack had been treating you and that any other girl would have been lucky to be in your place. However, one thing that you didn’t tolerate was disrespect and they were simply going to have to learn the hard way. They made their bed and now they have to lie in it.

Liked by jackharlow, taylorrooks, danivalentine, urbanwyatt, generationnow, neelamthadhani, and 6,281,902 others

y/ninsta: Didn’t know how much I needed this little vacay. Countdown until extraction date is on 😂

jackharlow: can't wait for that allthingsy/n: sooo are yall back together or? danivalentine: you are literally glowing jackandy/naremyparents: I would have kicked his ass for what he did

Comments on this post have been limited

It was now around eight in the morning when your phone suddenly went off and you looked down to see that it was Taylor.

Taylor- Hey, I’m in Miami doing coverage for the game tonight. Do you want to grab lunch so we can catch up? 

You- Sure, what time?

Taylor- In an hour? Does that give you enough time?

You- Yes, just send me the address

That was when you decided that you were determined to get answers out of Taylor, no matter how much of a fight she put up. You needed to know what happened and you needed to know now because you were tired of this hanging over your head. 

There the two of you were with Taylor sipping on a mimosa, when you just had straight orange juice and was looking over the menu. She had been eyeing you since the two of you sat down and you could tell that she wanted to say something.

“Taylor, would you just spit it out already? I know that there is something that you have to tell me, so why are you stalling? Just get it over with.”

“I… did he tell you?”

“Did who tell me what?” You asked as you looked at her confused and sat the menu down on the table.

“Did Jack tell you?”

“Taylor, I don’t even know what you’re talking about. The two of us aren’t really on speaking terms right now.”

“Oh.”

“Well, are you going to tell me?” You asked and she began to play with her bracelet that was on her left wrist.

“I…. never meant to hurt you. You have to understand that. It was just, Jack was coming to me and telling me how he was literally waiting for you to divorce him and then two days later came to me a crying, snotting mess and asking me if I could help him in getting you to change your mind. He would talk shit about everything that you did that he didn’t like and me being me trying to comfort him...”

“What the fuck did you do?” You whispered to her so that the people around you wouldn’t be able to hear.

“I tried to kiss him, but he immediately pushed me away from him. So I wasn’t lying and neither was he. He didn’t cheat on you. I’m sorry that I broke your trust. I don’t know what came over me to do that, but what’s done is done and I can’t take it back no matter how much I want to. Jack wanted to tell you, but he didn’t think that you would believe him.”

You simply sat there and stared at her. It was already common knowledge from his conversation with Urban that he didn’t cheat on you, and he had no idea that you had been listening, but the fact that your so-called best friend made a move on him instantly made you get a sour taste in your mouth.

“Y/N? Please say something.”

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[minwonsgirl]

a wig and tie.

— minghao x afab!reader

— fluff and angst. LOADS of fluff and loads of angst. but it's super cute you'll like it, I think.

— contents : arrange marriage, complicated relationship with parents, chaebol au, afab reader, unclear endings.

The view of the moon shining over the glassy water looked as if it was was straight out of a movie scene. The clear sky with just a couple of clouds surrounding the large full moon, to give it a theatrical effect.

Y/n just wished her life was also straight out of a one and half hour rom-com, that ends with everyone being happy.

She leans off the edge and starts to make her way towards the bench situated at the middle of the balcony, tucking her hands under her thighs to warm them up and hide them from the chilly november air.

A tear drop tickles her cheek and she nudges one of her shoulders up to wipe it away. "ah— fuck" she whispered, the sequence in her dress had snagged her skin and left a scratch mark.

Y/n sighs, a heavy breath escaping her lips. She could still hear the music faintly coming from a couple floors below her. The reception party was still going strongly even without the presence of the bride or the groom. Her reception party. She was the bride.

The groom. She heard him enter their suite a couple minutes after her. She heard his steps follow her to the balcony, and for a minute she was afraid he would join her, but then she heard him walk away and small thud of the bathroom door closing. He hasn't left the room since.

Another gust of wind passed her, and she felt her scalp start to itch from being trapped under the stupid wig all day. She brought her hands to press against her eyes to stop another round of tears from escaping.

"You need to stop rebelling against things, it is not proving anything, just making me angry." She said, pacing infront of me and trying to control her voice from reaching a loud volume.

The hair dresser did not pay any attention to her and continued her process to cover my short hair so that it would look presentable for my wedding.

I bit my teeth to stop myself from screaming. "I did not cut my hair for your reaction, my dear mother." I said, trying my best to sound nice and obedient, "I did it for me—"

"THAT." she faked a cough while I recovered from my flinch caused by her loud voice, "That. is. not. the point." She said. Her body was shaking from anger. "I expect you to look presentable and traditional. Short hair in not traditional." Her nose touched the air.

I bit my tongue and decided to lose this round. It's not like she would ever listen to me anyways.

Y/n roughly ran her finger nails all over her scalp to loosen the wig glue and disrupt it from its perfect placement. She felt anger coursing through her veins and her blood felt hot and bothered. I hate her. She thought.

I hate the way she raised me. I hate the way she forced me into marriage. I hate the way she hates my hair. I hate the way talks about my body. I hate the way she loves me.

A sob escapes her lips. She leaned back against the bench and looked at the moon again. It had witnessed everything, and it was still shining brighter than ever. That made her wipe all her tears away and pull her legs up to sit criss cross on the bench.

She knew that she had to go to bed soon. She would have to face her husband, and she would have to talk to him. Sooner or later she would have to meet him.

Suddenly she heard the bench next to her squeak with another person's body. She turns, "Minghao..?" She whispers in surprise. How did she not hear his footsteps?

Minghao does not look at her. He continues to stare at the moon. Y/n smiled in relief and turned back to the moon too. Atleast he wasn't speaking to her right now. She did not have the mental strength to converse with him right now.

"Y/n." He spoke, and every bone of relief from her body jumped off the roof. "This is the first time I've been to a party for the bride, without the bride" he chuckled.

She turns to him and raises a brow. He had a smirk playing lazily on his face. "The party is yours just as much as its mine," she said.

Something unknown flashes on his eyes, but before she could investigate he closes them and laughs loudly. Y/n felt her heart skip a beat.

"Touchè, Ms Xu" he said with a lovely smile on his face. "Are you not tired?" He asked.

She turns away from him and faces the moon. "I do not want to share a bed with you" y/n replied, she was proud of herself for not expressing any of her emotions in her voice.

Minghao presses a hand on his heart. "Ouch, that hurt." He said in a dramatized manner. Y/n rolled her eyes and stands up to leave the balcony, but he is quick to grab her hand "I'm kidding. Do you really think I would force a girl I just met to sleep in the same bed as me?"

When y/n doesnt answer, Minghao presses his lips in a straight line and stands up. "I know what your mother expects you to do tonight." He said, and for the first time that entire day, he was serious. "I need you to know that I don't have any of those expectations" his eyes searched her face for any sort of emotion, when he didn't find any he sighed in defeat.

He gently dropped her hand, "Please come to bed and get your rest, it's been a long day for you" he says and then turns to walk away.

Minghao makes it to two steps before his wife grabs his wrist. "Wait." She voiced.

He turns around to face her, his brows raised in surprise. Y/n's face was unreadable, but her eyebrows were furrowed. She took a step closer to minghao and starts to fiddle with his tie. He watches her is slight awe as she smoothly took off the accessory and threw it on the bench.

"You look better without that wretched thing choking your head off" she said, when his lips would not move to form the question why?.

She saw me he thought.

"You are receiving the name, the title, the status, the money and you still do not understand the importance of this union? Tell me son, do you care for me at all" father asked, throwing his arms in the air very excessively.

"Oh please stop with the melodramatic outbursts dad." I rolled my eyes. "I already have everything" I said while making exaggerated hand gestures.

"This girl your setting me up with, does she even know whe she is getting into? Does she know she is basically being sold—"

"DON'T" father yelled. He stops and forces himself to take in a deep breath and stabilize his volume. "Don't you dare" he said in an appropriate volume but a fuming red face.

My face did not betray any of my emotions. And my father took that the wrong way. He pressed his fingers to his forehead and walks away towards the corner of the room. "I can not talk to him, my dear." He whispered in a defeated voice.

My mother leaned off the corner wall and stalked towards me in calculated steps. On her way she picks up the boring black tie that was to be tied around my neck to make me look like a ceremonial sacrifice.

She silently stood infront of me and tied a complicated knot. When it came to lightning the knot she made sure to push it up all the way and remove a strangled sound from my throat.

I looked at her in shock and a little bit of fear. She holds my gaze and harshly pushes me back on the couch. "You will not loosen that tie. You will walk out of this room and feel it clog up you throat and remember how it's a punishment for dishonouring your family." She said in a simple monotonous voice.

She turns around and grabs her waiting husbands arm, " one day you will understand that I am doing this for your own good, minghao" she said to me over her shoulder, and then she left the room.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a small shadow move away from the window, I just hopes the shadow made it out before my parents.

"It was you" Minghao whispered, half stunned and half relieved.

Y/n gives him an apologetic look and tilts her head to the side. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop" she said, "I was just trying to hide"

Minghao laughs lightly, "I get that, and it's okay I forgive you" he smiles at her. Then his eyes have that mischievous look again. Y/n furrows her eyebrows suspiciously and he says, "since we are all coming clean and I think I have to say something," he said with a million dollar smile.

"Um okay, what is it?" She asked with shrug. Minghao doesn't answer immediately, he grabs her hands and pulls her towards the bedroom. He stops her infront of a large mirror and held her gaze in the mirror.

Y/n looked confused, and slightly concerned. She flinched lightly when she saw minghao lift his hand to her head. He pauses and says, "it's your hair. I promise I'm just gonna touch your hair"

Minghao waited for her nod of approval before he continued his feather light touch to remove the wig and undo all the bobby pins and other nonsense that held her real and shorter hair back.

As means of protest, y/n had box dyed her hair red and cut it just above her shoulder at home, precisely a day before her wedding. She smiled at the memory of her mother screaming when she found out.

When she felt minghao's fingers glide through her hair she sighed out contently and close her eyes. For the first time that day she felt safe, and relaxed.

Minghao blushed light at her sound. He clears his head and softly pats her when he's done. He smiles at her through the mirror and leans down to her ear and whispers, "you look cuter with your short hair"

Y/n was thankful for her makeup, it was doing a very good job at hiding her reaction to his words. She turns around to face him. "I get it, okay? we are both nosy" she rolled her eyes with soft smile, "You peeked into my conversation and I peeked into yours."

Minghao laughs lightly and walks back to sit on the edge of the bed. Y/n turns around and leans against the vanity table, her arms folded across her chest.

"So, who gets the bed cause i call dibs..." she starts to say but her voice falters away when she saw that minghao was already picking up his belongings and walking towards the door.

"Don't worry about it," he said, giving her a quick look. She couldnt catch the look in his eye since his face was only partially seen but something seemed off.

"I booked a second room, I just wanted to make sure you were okay." He says, but doesn't wait for her to respond and leaves, closing the door behind him.

Y/n felt a strange feeling course through her body. Something that felt an awful lot like rejection. She turned back towards the mirror and looked at herself.

I'm so stupid. She thought, as she proceeds to remove her jewelery, I let my gaurd down infront of him.

He didn't actually care about her, why would he? They had just met. He just didn't want his wife to be a sad moping mess for the public. He couldn't mess up his image, he had a reputation to uphold.

Y/n went to sleep that night with a growing feeling of resentment. He made me look like a fool. She thought, and she had never felt that embarrassed before.

Maybe it was the betrayal she felt, or just the sour mood that accompanied her since the wedding, but by the next morning, the wig was back on.

[sneppu]

Hello! Welcome to The Sneep Zone

You may call me Nagi

Main blog: @nagoo (I'm also on Bluesky! absolutely NO MINORS on the bluesky, no exceptions. nsfw art will be going there.)

u better be able to tell fiction from reality i stg.

first and foremost: fuck jkr. i do not endorse her. i do not agree with her. we dont do that weird shit here.

we do different weird shit instead (bask in the decadence of The Sneep)

This sideblog is for me to post all my Snape art and Snape related ramblings! I am addicted to snape fics, and have found myself needing to make fanart for some of my favorite writers. such things will be posted here!

Severus Snape is my favorite guy!

I am known to refer to him as: Sneep, Snorp, Sneb, The Sneberous Sneb, The Snebulous One, He Who Sneeps In The Dark, SneepSnorp, Mother, Sneppu, El Sneepo, Snorpo, Snib, The Best One, The Only One That Matters, The Community Boyfriend, Babygirl, etc.

rest assured, I am talking about Severus Snape every single time

I ship him with everyone! yes, even [insert character]. I always tag ships so block the tag or w/e if theres one you dont like.

I truly and genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, do not care even a little bit about The Grievances u may have about my ships or my sneeps. I cannot stress enough how much that is not my problem. If you're the type to throw a tantrum over ships and fictional content I'm just gonna block you tbh.

Dark/Fucky content WILL be found on this blog. Snape was practically MADE for that shit and I like to project my traumas onto him so like. ykno. I expect adults with critical thinking on here ONLY.

in my ideal world, everyone would love and cherish Sneep. I tend to focus on marauder's era Snape

not to be rude, but i kind of only care about Snape really. the slytherins are cool and chill too (especially Lucius, Rosier, and Mulciber), but i mostly care about how they interact with and potentially fall in love with The Sneep. the marauders are rat bastards and i ship them with Snape in a "grovel eternally for the scraps of his affection" kind of way. I am not sorry.

dont expect nothing serious from me unless im waxing poetic about Snape or heavily projecting my own Tragic Past onto him tbh, and even then...

i have zero interest in any debates whatsoever. i cannot emphasize this enough, my thoughts are disjointed and nonsensical. The mere thought of having a serious debate about anything is stressful and unpleasant. I mean it as kindly as possible when I say it makes my eyes glaze over.

i am just here to draw Snape and shitpost about my favorite little guy.

i dont care that he's mean.

he shouldve been meaner, actually.

he's better than me and he's probably better than you too, because i wouldve absolutely lost it big boy style.

Art tag: #nagi nyart

Have you ever written a fanfic about Severus Snape? If so, please PLEASE read this post Here

this shouldnt even have to be said but please do not??? take me stuffs and completely re-upload it without credit or permission?? dont do that to anyone, actually? like idk basic courtesy towards artists or w/e. you know better, i know you do.

BUT that said.. using my stuff for your header or profile pic is fine with credit somewhere easily visible, like the profile description, or pinned post!

[hotchfiles]

edge of eighteen.

pairing: remus x reader.

content warnings: mostly teen angst and a bit of fluff. reader insert with no use of names or “y/n”. just teens being teens and remus trying to bolt as usual. happy ending.

word count: a bit over 1k.

      You shifted in your bed, suddenly feeling the late night cold hit you, still with your eyes closed, you let your hand wander around searching for the sole responsible to keeping you warm, only to quickly notice he was not there.

      You open your eyes and sit on the bed of your childhood room, you were spending time there after graduating while you and Remus looked for jobs and a good cheap place to live together. Your parents adored him so he would spend most days and nights there as well.

      Tea? You thought, he would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night and go to the kitchen for some to help him go back to sleeping. Unfortunately, you quickly realized that was not it as you noticed Remus going through the closet, apparently taking out the clothes he already had left there as it was more convenient.

      His baggage was open, the RJL shining whenever it was hit by the light of his wand, you felt rage you didn’t even know you had inside of you, ready to punch him or worse, but you knew of your own insecurities and fears so you controlled your gut reaction, maybe his mother needed him for something. Maybe one of the marauders was in trouble.

      Maybe it wasn’t what it looked like.

      “Remus? What’s going on?” You asked in almost a whisper, but enough to stop him on his tracks and make his eyes lock on yours, if only for a second.

      He was startled, you were a heavy sleeper, this wasn’t supposed to happen, he tried to swallow the pit of despair developing on his throat, his lips as dry as humanly possible, guilt being written all over him, no need of an answer.

      “Were you about to fucking leave me?” You say in the most angry tone he has ever heard from you, but still controlling the volume not to wake your family. You knew this self control wouldn’t last another second, so as you got up and switched the lights on, you made sure to enchant the door, leaving your wand on your bed as you walked over to the open luggage.

      “Please, please don’t make this harder for me.” His voice trembled and you felt like hugging him and telling him it was okay, that he didn’t need to do this. You were not that type of witch though, and he knew that when he chose to kiss you during the sixth year.

      “Oh no sir, I feel like m’gonna make this a lot harder, impossible even.” You were firm, but the hint of sarcasm was obvious, you took his baggage from the chair it was placed, too quick for him to stop you and emptied it on your bed. “M’not some girl you can just leave, Lupin.”

      Remus followed you but made sure to keep distance, he even made motion to try and put his stuff back, but stopped when he saw the fury in your eyes, don’t you dare being silently told without being spoken.

      “I just—I have to, I let myself enjoy this for far too long.”

      His brain practically hurt, thinking hard behind his burrowed eyebrows, he was a planner, he was trying to find the right words that would stop this from becoming to much of a fight. You two never fought, he wanted to keep that memory intact.

      “No.”

      “What do you mean no—” He couldn’t even finish his sentence before being surprised once again by you picking a portion of his things with both arms, walking towards your tiny closet and throwing it there.

      “I mean fucking no, you are not ruining this for no fucking reason, I’m not letting you, I’m not allowing you to, so no.”

      “You can’t just prohibit me from doing what I need to do to protect you, woman!” He exasperated in a sigh, his hands passing through his sandy hair, his cheeks getting red in frustration. Remus still with his wand in hand, silently orders his luggage and items you had displaced to organize itself.

      “Protect me? From what? From you? From Moony?” You were forced to laugh, it was harsh, painful, almost cruel. “We both know I can handle either of them.”

You were right, you were an incredible witch, strong-willed, way too stubborn for your own good but it usually meant you got yourself out of any situation imposed on you, not afraid of anything, ready, reckless.

      “From a future with me.” His voice was loud, louder than you ever heard him, laced with fear and frustration only an eighteen old boy starting his life could feel.

      But Remus was not just an eighteen old boy. He was a werewolf, fated to disgrace, bad jobs, bad money, bad life.

      He had no bright future to provide, and even if you could handle Moony at his worst, Remus would not ruin your chances at a successful life.

      “What gives you that right, Lupin?” The last nome being the only form of reference since the beginning of the argument was just one of your ways to show him how mad you were that this discussion was even happening after almost two years of relationship.

      Love, Remus believed love gave him the right to make that choice for the both of you, the hard choice, the right choice. But he didn't answer, looking up to your ceiling to take a deep breath, he was starting to feel like his eyes were about to water and that was not the time for that.

      "You think that little of me? That I'm not able to decide for my own what is good for me?" Again, no words from him in response, both his hands gripping tight on his own waist as he kept breathing, trying to be firm, trying to maintain his choice, his plan. His eyes only came back to yours when you asked if he enjoyed it, confusion clear, not understanding what you meant by that. "Seeing me hurt, do you enjoy it?"

      It was a cruel move, you would admit it if asked, but you were starting to feel desperate, the mix of that with your short temper and the fact his actions were cruel despite his reasoning gave you all the permission to go as low as you wanted to.

      "You know I don't... Don't do that to me." His face contorted, his eyes wet, his voice merely a whisper, you held out your hand, your heart twitching in pain, ready to break at any moment, and you swore for a second he wouldn't take it, but he did, still not getting closer to you, but now you could feel the trembling and the cold sweat that was consuming him whole.

      You both stayed like that for a few seconds, but it seemed like hours, arms stretched, fingers intertwined, but you wouldn't take the first step towards him, you needed him to do it, you needed him to forget the whole thing, to apologize, to hug you and smell your hair like he always did. "If you leave I might have a future, but I won't have a life to live." That was the softest you had sounded since you had woken up, the rage completely overshadowed by fear and sadness and grief for your relationship if he was to go.

      And he caved, he could possibly live knowing he left you hating him, angry with all that fiery rage he knew so well you had in you, but not like this, not vulnerable and hurt and about to cry because of him. Remus sighed and pulled you into his arms in a hug, just like you wanted, his hand going through your hair as you begin to sob, relaxing surrounded by his warmth.

      "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, shhhh" He repeated it like a mantra, trying to stop you from crying but to no avail. "Next time I swear I'll make sure not to wake you." You let go of him immediately, searching for his eyes and finding his mischievous smirk looking at you, teasing you to lift up your mood or to get you riled up again so you would stop with all the tears that hurt him so much to watch.

      "Try something like this again and your dead body will be the only thing on that luggage, Remy." You reply to his teasing, but there's not a slight of playfulness in your tone, expect for the nickname you would regularly use to call him. He chuckled and nodded, silently agreeing not to do anything of the sort again, placing soft kisses on both your eyelids as he cleaned your cheeks with his thumbs.

      "Wait, the door is still imperturbed, right?" he asked referring to the charm you had casted earlier not to wake anyone, you replied with a nod and the smirk came back to his lips with even more malice, pushing you lightly towards the bed and hovering over you, muffling a laugh coming from you with a passionate kiss.

      Remus might feel like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, still, he's only an eighteen years old boy who would not miss the opportunity to make out with his beautiful, stubborn, strong-willed girlfriend.

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (3)

ー☆ Chapter 3: Itch

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: use of the word "fuck" ー☆ Word count: 4.2k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone, here's my present for you all. Excuse me if this chapter is a little confusing, although I hope it isn't, I tried hard to put her feelings into words and describe it accordingly. The taglist is open, so let me know if you're interested. Please listen to the song in the playlist (Itch) before or while reading! Thank you and I hope you enjoy! Your feedback is always very much appreciated!

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @juicy-red @scarfac3 @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

『There's a rumbling

In my head

It's getting louder

Louder』

The weather hasn’t drastically improved nor gotten better even a little bit as the sky was grey and the wind blew harshly. Before my mother left for work she warned me to have an umbrella with myself today as it could start pouring at any given moment, and I listened to her. I swear to God that woman has some sort of supranatural sense as her predictions are always right. I didn’t have classes today, but I had to work on one of my assignment’s, and after realizing that if I were to stay at home I’d be laying in my bed all day, I dressed up in comfortable clothes and packed what I had to bring with myself before I headed to my university’s library.

The bus ride was quick as traffic has dispersed since the early hours of the morning, making it easier to get to my destination. After getting off the bus I headed to the closest coffee shop, knowing I would need some caffeine if I planned on not falling asleep at the library. It wouldn’t be the first time. Sometimes the quiet and warm ambience gets to me, and without meaning to, I fall asleep at the table instead of studying diligently. I didn’t plan on doing that today as I was nearing the deadline. I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but I didn’t deal well with stress and it was currently eating me up as I ran over on my phone of the assignment’s requirements while I entered the main building of my university. It was buzzing with life as everyone was busy doing something and I nodded at the familiar faces before beelining it for the stairs, headed to the top floor. The main building was an old one and it was rather cold inside at all times, the library being the only one actually heated up enough that you wouldn’t freeze during the winter. I sighed in content as I pushed open the big doors, warmth seeping into my bones instantly. It wasn’t too cold outside, but I forgot to wear a jacket today, and the tank top and hoodie I was wearing over it wasn’t keeping me warm enough. The library was quiet and the ceiling lights were dim inside, desk lamps turned on by the students having to study. I walked past the front desk and greeted the librarian quietly, trying to ignore the disapproving look she threw at my coffee in hand. I wouldn’t be using any books; I just needed a desk and chair to be able to do my homework. So, before she could ask me to leave or throw away my coffee, I turned around and speedwalked down the main lobby, headed towards the next room where the large tables were placed in four rows. It was the study room, basically.

I sighed and took a sip of my coffee, looking around for a secluded spot, away from prying eyes, as I slowly walked down the middle aisle, appreciating the sweet taste of my Caramel Macchiato. Nobody really paid me any mind and I was glad as I didn’t feel like striking up a conversation with anyone. I spotted an empty seat to the left at a table where not many sat, and decided to claim it as mine as I turned left, going down another row of table and chairs. One student threw me a nasty look as my tote bag accidentally crashed against their arm and I gave them a cheeky smile before continuing to walk, not exactly sorry for disturbing them. I took another sip of my coffee as with my other hand I placed my phone back inside my back pocket, and noticed someone kind of familiar. My eyes narrowed as I continued walking towards them as they sat in the way of my claimed spot. I didn’t mean to stare, but I couldn’t tell straight away who it was as their head hung low and shoulders were slouched as they were writing in a notebook. He had headphones over his ears and was bobbing his head to the rhythm of the music, and as I got closer, my steps slightly faltered. I stopped mid-sip as I realized who it was. Mingi remained oblivious to my surprised face as I quickly snapped out of it and quickly took off, whizzing past him and the long table he sat at, adamant on ignoring him and finally reaching my own seat. He hadn’t noticed me, after all, so I didn’t think he was aware that I was here too. My mouth pulled into a grimace as the thought of being at the same place as Mingi was rather inconvenient right now, I wasn’t in the mood to face him today. I didn’t feel like arguing or bickering, and if he were to approach me, I knew it was inevitable. I sighed as I reached my seat and allowed my bag to fall onto the table, creating a light bang. Someone from the other end of the table glanced at me, but quickly went back to their work.

I placed my coffee on the table and sat in my chair, opening my tote bag. I quickly emptied the bag of its contents, grateful that I haven’t forgotten anything at home. I placed my big sketchbook in front of me as I organized the rest of my things on the table. My smaller pencil case was placed next to my coffee, where my right hand was. Then, the bigger pencil case which contained all sorts of pens and pencils, was placed in the middle, just above my sketchbook. I placed the hard cover sketchbook, my personal one in which I always draw and consider my journal, to my left where it wouldn’t bother me as I worked. I placed the book on color theory I have brought with myself on top of my sketchbook and opened it, flipping through the pages, searching for the one I was supposed to read before starting my assignment. We were supposed to make an abstract drawing using acrylics. I sighed as I found the page and realized I had to read five before starting to draw. Five weren’t many pages, but it felt like I didn’t have the mental capacity to read. Seems like the coffee hadn’t kicked in yet. But I had to do it, so, after taking another sip of my coffee, I placed my elbow on the table and after placing my cheek in my palm, I started reading with a loud sigh. My eyes ran over the words lazily only half paying attention to them as I felt my phone buzz in my jean’s back pocket. I was itching to check the message, but I knew I wouldn’t do any studying if I was to check my phone right now.

As I was reading the third page, I heard firm footsteps stomping in my direction, but I didn’t look up. I have finally somehow found the power to concentrate on my task, and besides, I was in a library, it was probably another student headed to sit at the table I was sat at. After all, I have chosen this table because it had few people who could bother me. However, I soon became aware that the approaching person stopped right across me, and as I looked up confused, my mouth involuntarily dropped a little. The chair was already pulled back and before I could even complain, Mingi’s lean body dropped into the chair as he pulled it closer to the table. His things were gathered in his arms and he very loudly dropped them onto the table, creating the other student at the table to glare in his direction. For a second, I found myself speechless as I stared at a very casual looking Mingi. His black hair was pushed back, his forehead on display for the first time, and his eyes had no makeup as he blinked at me through his black glasses. I had no idea Mingi wears glasses? It was resting rather low on his tall nose and I snapped out of my staring as a lazy smirk appeared on his cherry-red lips.

“What are you doing?!” I whispered furiously, eyebrows furrowing as I placed my book on the table. Mingi’s smirk turned into a small smile.

“Catching up on some homework, and you?” Mingi’s answer made my eyebrows furrow even more. Did he seriously think I was interested in whatever he was here for?

“No!” My voice almost raised, but I was able to control it, “Here. With me—why did you come sit here?! The other table seemed perfectly fine to me—”

“Ah, so you have seen me.” Mingi seemed pleased with himself as he fished his phone out from underneath the three notebooks he had dumped on the table, “I just didn’t feel like sitting alone. Is that a problem?”

I opened my mouth to fire back a ‘yes’ at him, but found myself hesitating instead. I didn’t exactly understand his motives. He was sitting by himself up until now, who knows since when, so what changed now? Why did he want to sit with me all of a sudden? He was definitely only here to bother me.

“We’re not friends.” I raised my eyebrows at Mingi, voice sharp, “And you seemed pretty fine by yourself.”

Mingi just sighed and organized his notebooks, pushing two away from himself as he opened the other one. He grabbed his headphones from around his neck, but he didn’t lift them to his ear yet.

“Is it such a crime that I want to sit at the same table with you?” The defeat in Mingi’s voice took me off guard, and I gulped, jaw clenching as I avoided his disappointed gaze. What was he disappointed about? It’s not like we were friends. Did I say something wrong? And why should I care if I have hurt his feelings? I was only voicing the truth.

“I sat here because I want to be alone.” I threw him a sharp glare and Mingi’s lips turned into a thin line as he slid down in his chair. He wore a loose black t-shirt which reached below his elbows, jacket discarded on the chair next to his. He wore grey sweatpants too; it was the most casual I have seen him. Compared to how he would usually dress, this look gave him an aura of someone who you are safe with and radiates comfort. It was unusual compared to the always cocky, witty, and smirking Mingi. I didn’t know where to put him, it felt like he was vulnerable right now, almost showing a side of his I haven’t met yet. Could this be the real Mingi? Before I could start dwelling on such thing, I shook my head and the thought out of my mind.

“I won’t bother you.” Mingi tried to coerce me and I just sighed loudly and long, letting him know he was an inconvenience to me right now as I aggressively closed my book and pushed it aside. I knew enough about colors already, and I wasn’t in the mood to read anymore thanks to Mingi, who threw me off my sudden burst of motivation. I threw Mingi one last disapproving look before looking down and opening my sketchbook. I pulled my smaller pencil case closer to myself and opened that as well as I fished around for the black acrylic.

『There's a shaking

In my bones

It's getting stronger

Stronger』

I willed myself to ignore Mingi as I started tracing lines with the acrylic, shutting out every noise which could bother me as I sucked my lower lip between my teeth, wondering what I was drawing. Usually when I had an assignment, I had an idea of what the drawing would be about, but right now, I had no idea what I was doing and it didn’t feel nice. It made me feel like I was losing control, like I wasn’t myself. I grabbed the burgundy acrylic and darkened the right corner of the paper, fingers feeling oily from the tool I was using. I tried finding something in the lines, a vision, something which could give me guidance, but it was simply a mess and it caused me to feel defeated as I grabbed another color mindlessly, having stopped paying attention to the color combination. The one and only thing I should have paid attention to. But the drawing looked like nothing and my hand was moving faster as I traced lines and made circles on the paper, creating an amalgam of colors. The top of the drawing was dark and heavy, it made me feel mad and desperate the longer I looked at it. Then, the lower half of the drawing had the lighter colors, colors which felt like there was something good in the world, something worth living for. But the middle of the drawing remained blank and my hand halted as I became stuck. What was I supposed to do? Was I to connect the two worlds of whirling emotions? Was I to leave it blank because there were no existent roads leading the two together?

『There's a hunger

In my heart

It's full of promise

Promise』

And then I looked up, eyebrows drawn together as I felt numbness creep up into my chest, not finding a way out. I have forgotten Mingi was here, with me. And as our eyes connected, I realized he was here. And he was watching me. Lips slightly parted, his eyes seemed to hold a sincerity I have never seen in anyone else before, his eyebrows slightly raised. Suddenly, I felt breathless as his deep gaze kept me locked in, as he silenced my thoughts. I didn’t understand the look on his face, or what his eyes were trying to tell me, but suddenly my heart started beating so fast that I dropped the acrylic I had in my hand and gasped. Why was Mingi here? What did he want? Eyes turning into a glare, I looked down and furiously dug around in my pencil case, looking for the grey acrylic. I didn’t mean to do it, many times I don’t mean to do what I do, but my hand came crashing down against the table and then I was scrabbling at the blank space, creating a big nothing. A void. I paused for a second thinking that I have ruined the drawing and now I would have to start over, which was the smartest thing to do, probably. But for some reason, in the mess of scribble, I saw lines. Lines looking like paths, which were made to connect the top half and the bottom half of the drawing. I grabbed the yellow and purple acrylic and started tracing those lines, shading over the grey void, everything blending together seamlessly. My lips parted as an incredulous breath left my lips, confused at everything I was feeling at the moment. I did usually let my emotions pour into my drawings, but this was new. This was intense and it hasn’t happened before. I didn’t even understand it myself as I felt myself smile a little bit, almost as if my body felt relief, almost as if my heart became less heavy.

『There's an itch

Under my skin

It's under my skin

Under my skin』

The flipping of a page snapped me back to reality and I was once again aware that I was in the library and—Mingi was sitting right across me. And as I looked up, all previous feelings disappeared as my eyes fell on what held Mingi’s attention. My sketchbook. The one which was like my journal. I gasped, loudly,

“Stop.” I didn’t mean for my voice to be so loud, but several students turned our way as Mingi’s hand froze midair. The page he was about to flip fell back, and he looked up slowly, “I never gave you permission to look through that.”

Mingi held my fierce gaze for a second before he hummed, acting nonchalant, acting as if he hadn’t looked through something which was personal, something which contained my feelings and thoughts as I always doodle a few words in the right bottom of the page.

“My bad, I didn’t think it was personal,” My jaw clenched and before I could say anything, Mingi continued, “You’re quite good, did you know? You’re talented.”

I scoffed and looked around in disbelief before my eyes fell back on Mingi. He was smirking, looking way too amused at my annoyance, “Of course I’m good, Mingi. I’m more than just good. I’m the founder of the Fine Arts club at our university, I’m supposed to be the best student.”

“And are you?” Mingi raised an eyebrow and it made my blood boil even more. He was able to make my mood change way too easily, it pissed me off.

“I am.” I whisper-snapped and Mingi hummed again, acting as if it wasn’t a big deal. It was. I could never lack. I always had to deliver, and constantly had to prove myself that I was the best. Everyone had high expectations of me, but perhaps, it was myself who set the bar so high that I sometimes felt like I was crumbling, “Give it back.”

I swiftly leaned over the table and went to snatch the sketchbook back from Mingi, but he clumsily grabbed it and pulled it towards himself, out of my reach. The page he wanted to flip when I caught him was accidentally flipped and we looked down at it at the same time. My eyes widened in mortification and my heart dropped to my stomach as Mingi stared at his own eyes in my sketchbook. It was the first drawing I have made of them, it was somewhat scribbled over, but it was painfully obvious whose eyes it was. Hoping that he hadn’t recognized his own eyes, I quickly snatched the sketchbook back and slammed it shut, feeling a slight burn in my cheeks. That wasn’t good, I shouldn’t be blushing. And my heart also needs to calm down, I can feel my pulse in my neck. I looked up at Mingi through my lashes only to see him already staring at me. He looked incredibly surprised and confused at the same time, it was as if I was looking at a puppy, before his expression formed into something more detestable.

“Who’s eyes are those?” He whisper-asked with a glint in his sharp eyes, resting his chin in his palm as his ring-clad fingers tapped against his cheek rhythmically. His reaction was better than the one I was expecting, I thought he had figured it out, I could lie my way out of this.

“Someone’s.” I answered as I closed my other sketchbook too, needing to flee. There goes my strong and convincing answer. I was crying on the inside, emotionless on the outside.

“Mine?” My body froze and I slowly raised my gaze to look at Mingi, who was smirking and slowly pushing up his glass on the bridge of his nose. My jaw clenched as my heart started beating faster.

『'Cause I just wanna feel something real

'Cause I just wanna feel something』

“No, Yunho’s.” The words were out of my mouth before I could think. My jaw clenched as I mentally cursed myself. What are the chances Mingi knows Yunho, though? And I haven’t said his family name, it could be anyone. I didn’t wait to see Mingi’s reaction as I quickly started packing away everything, cursing myself for leaving my acrylics laying around on the table everywhere. My muscles were tense under Mingi’s watchful eyes and I bit my lower lip as I was finally able to shove everything inside my tote bag, I had zero intentions of organizing them nicely inside. I was just about to stand up when Mingi’s quiet, deep, voice reached my ears.

“By any chance—are you talking about Jeong Yunho?” The breath was knocked out of my chest as I gaped at Mingi with wide eyes, thoughts whirling fast in my mind. Mingi knows Yunho? How does he know him? What were the chances? I’m fucked.

“Uh, yeah.” I answered quietly before clearing my throat, not expecting Mingi’s eyes to suddenly light up and mouth to pull into the biggest smile I have ever seen on him.

“How do you know him?” He whispered in excitement, leaning forward in his seat. I cleared my throat in discomfort, stalling my answer as I scoffed quietly, trying to look nonchalant with my answer.

“We were sort of friends during highschool.” I answered, my voice void of any emotion as Mingi looked surprised.

“Really?” Mingi muttered before his confused expression morphed into that of an excited one once again, “He’s my best friend. We’ve been friends since childhood, it’s a bit surprising he never mentioned you—or have I forgotten? Yunho was always popular, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he mentioned you and I forgot, because I always had to keep up with all the new names and people. He was quite the charmer during highschool, wasn’t he? Did you know he’s gone to a different city to study?”

“Uh,” I blinked, trying to digest all the new information and Mingi’s change of character. I’ve never seen him so alive before, so excited, and happy like right now. It made me want to blame it on Yunho. He made people feel like this. Whoever had the luck of knowing him would be forever charmed, webbed up by his bright and warm personality. He could make you feel like you were the most special person on Earth, like you were the center of his life. Yunho was a very rare to find person, one you had the luck to meet only once in your lifetime. And if you were lucky enough, perhaps he’d keep you around long enough. Mingi seemed to be that lucky guy as he continued beaming at me, waiting for my answer. But all I could do was focus on the bitter feeling swirling inside my stomach and the quiver of my lips. I wasn’t good enough to keep Yunho around. I lacked what Yunho liked in a person, and yet, here Mingi was, being the epitome of everything Yunho liked. My throat closed in on me at a very sudden realization, I felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore, “Yeah, I did—I didn’t. I—I have to go.”

I didn’t wait to see Mingi’s reaction as I jumped out of my seat and grabbed the coffee mug, gripping it so hard I could’ve broken the carton. I had tunnel vision as I raced out of the library and down the marble stairs, breathing hard with tears in my eyes. I burst through the heavy doors of the main building and ran off, trying to find a somewhat secluded spot on the path as I doubled over, heaving for air.

Song Mingi. Jeong Yunho. I should have known. I should have realized so much sooner, I was such a fucking idiot. My lips quivered as all the memories came back: Yunho’s dashing smile and warm hand as we lay in each other’s arms, his voice low as he whispered about his day. Song Mingi’s name rolling off his tongue effortlessly, face content and eyes glazed over as he recounted everything about their day, about Mingi. He loved the warm breeze; he hated rainy days. He loved going out for walks, he hated staying cooped up in his room all day. He hated playing video games, yet he learned a few just for Yunho. He was allergic to pollen, but he bought his mother a bouquet of flower every Sunday. He was tall and lanky and insecure, so he started working out with Yunho. He hated his glasses because people thought he was a nerd, so he never wore them and his eyesight worsened. Song Mingi, who’s laughter was either silent or too loud, head always thrown back as his eyes turned into slits when he laughed. Song Mingi, who was insecure about his blemishes until Yunho called him the handsomest gal he’d ever seen. Song Mingi, who stopped painting his nails after he was bullied for it. And Mingi, who despite looking intimidating and cold was the sweetest and nicest person Yunho has ever met. There wasn’t a day when Yunho wouldn’t mention Mingi while we were dating, and the fact that Mingi couldn’t even remember if Yunho mentioned me or not, said a lot. It hurt. It felt like a knife was plunged deep inside my chest, twisting and ripping everything apart with its sharp blade. I am over Yunho; everything happened a long time ago. But it was proof, once again, that I have never been someone important in his life. He would never talk about me like he talked about Mingi. I would never mean the world to him…like Mingi meant to him.

『I just wanna love

I just wanna touch

I just wanna see

Something』

❱❱ Next chapter

[littlxpxtal]

Cooler Than Me

TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence WORD COUNT: 5.2K

I got you all figured out

You need everyone's eyes just to feel seen

Behind your make up nobody knows who you even are

Who do you think that you are

August

“YOU’VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME RIGHT?” I Shout back at my mother as she stands across the kitchen island from me, my dad right next to her. We were in the midst of the biggest argument we have ever had. They were telling me I couldn’t associate with the pogues anymore. 

“Hanging with those kids is going to ruin your future! You almost got arrested this summer because of them and their shenanigans. We’ve talked to Kiara’s parents and they’re doing the same thing. You guys are bright girls - we can’t believe Ward lets Sarah runa round with those fools.” my dad responds. 

I furiously pace the kitchen floor, running my hands up and down my sides. 

“Those fools are my friends dad, you can’t just tell me who I can and can’t be friends with.” I say, choking on a sob forming in my throat. 

“This is for your own good. You need to start getting on good terms with these kids, keep your grades up and get into a good school.” my mom says quietly, trying to calm me down.

“YEA, LIKE THEY GIVE A FUCK ABOUT ME. THEY ALL HATE ME AND ALWAYS HAVE, WHY DO YOU THINK I BECAME FRIENDS WITH PEOPLE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ISLAND IN THE FIRST PLACE” I scream back, hot tears pouring down my face. 

“If you don’t stop seeing them, we’re taking your car keys and cutting off your allowance.”

I scoff at this response from my father. 

“Yea like those things matter. I still have a bike and I can get a job.” I retort. 

“We won’t support you through college.” my mother says firmly. I stand still, tears dripping from my chin onto my shirt. 

“What?” I ask meekly. 

“You heard me. If you keep this up, we won’t help you with anything.” she responds. I stare at her blankly.

“You wouldn’t” I whisper.

“We’re being serious Y/N. You need to get your head on straight and stay on this side of the island.” 

My mind runs a mile a minute, thinking of how difficult it would be to attend any of my dream colleges without their support. A sob escapes my mouth and I look up at them.

“You’re really threatening me right now?” I ask, holding myself with my arms, leaning on the kitchen counter for support. 

“You have a future ahead of you. Those kids don’t.” my father states. 

“You don’t know that!” I shout back.

“Listen, our decision is final. And you can’t try anything because we had a tracker installed on your phone.”

“You have WHAT” 

I run to the living room to grab my purse and shoes, shoving them on my feet.

“Where are you going?”my mother shouts at me, moving to the living room with my dad. 

“‘m going to Sarahs. You said I can’t hang with Pogue’s. She’s not a Pogue.” I respond back, sniffling. 

“She might as well be one” my dad whispers under his breath. My mom walks closer to me, resting a hand on my arm. I jerk myself away from her, wiping the tears from my chin. 

“She’s one of my best friends. You can’t take her away from me.” I choke out. 

“We just want the best for you.” she says softly. I roll my eyes and open the front door. When I get into my car I pull out my phone to text Sarah that I was on my way.

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

I park my car in the Tannyhill driveway, storming through the front door, tears pouring from my eyes. Rafe immediately stands up from the couch, staring at me as I kick my shoes off.

“Woah woah woah what’s goin on.” he asks, slowly walking towards me.

“Nothin, is-is Sarah home?” I choke out, pressing my hands into my face to cover it from Rafe.

“Well you’re obviously upset. What happened? JJ fuck with you again.”

“Jesus Christ Rafe, NO!” I Shout at him, breaking down into tears again.

“Look ‘m just trying to figure out what the hell is goin on with you. You storm into my house lookin a fuckin mess cryin and shit I deserve to know what’s going on. Don’t want you bringin any trouble round here.”

“Fuck you where’s Sarah.” I ask. He sighs and shouts up the stairs “SARAH”

I stand there, crying into my eyes as he stands awkwardly infront of me.

“Yea?” she asks from above the bannister. 

“Oh my god Y/N whats wrong?” she asks before running down the stairs. 

“My-my parents they-they” I choke on a sob, and she finally reaches the bottom of the stairs to hold me. Rafe walks away to the couch, eyes staying on me. I look up to reach Sarah’s eyes. 

“They told me I can’t hand with the guys anymore. They’re too much trouble and they’ll take away everything from me if I keep hanging with them. They said they wouldn’t help me with college.”

She furrows her eyebrows and hugs me close.

“God I’m so sorry Y/N” 

“It’s for your own good” Rafe pipes up from the couch. Sarah shoots him a death glare and he shurgs. 

“Been tryna tell you girls they’re bad news. “ he responds before pulling out his phone. “Bout time they put their foot down.”

“God would you shut up.” I respond, staring at him from across the room. He looks up from his phone, shocked at my response. 

“C’mon lets go upstairs.” Sarah holds my hand as we go up the stairs. She pulls out her phone to text our groupchat, telling everyone to meet at her house for an emergency. 

“Its the last weekend of the summer, why the hell are we on Figure Eight” I hear JJ complaining to the group as the head up the stairs before entering Sarah’s room. I laid across her bed, blowing my nose into a tissue when they finally open the door. 

“Oh Y/N” Kiara says softly before climbing on the bed, resting a hand on my thigh. 

“Her parent’s wont let her hang with the guys anymore on the cut. They gotta tracker on her and everything.” Sarah tells the group.

“They gotta WHAT?” JJ exclaims. “That’s gotta be illegal or somethin.”

“You’re not gonna listen to em right?” Pope asks, sitting on the edge of the bed. I sniffle and look around the group, my eyes glossing over with tears. 

“I don’t really have a choice.” I whisper. 

October

I shift in my seat, anticipating the last bell of the day to ring. 

“Please write down the assignment on the board. It’s due Monday morning.” Mrs. Thompson drones on. I mess with the hem of my skirt, and shoot straight up when the bell finally rings. Walking at a fast pace, I finally reach my locker. 

“You goin to that Halloween party tonight at the Thornton house?” Sabrina asks, appearing behind my open locker door, popping a piece of gum while looking down at her phone.

“Uhhh I didn’t know there was a party.” I say, shrugging, placing my textbooks that I won’t be using for this weekends homework in, and grabbing my purse before closing the door. 

“Damn girl we gotta get you added on this group snapchat story so you can get hip.” she responds before putting out her hand. I reluctantly pass her my unlocked phone as she gets on my Snapchat and adds my username. 

“You gotta costume?” she asks as we walk towards the exit. 

“Eh I’ll probably just reuse an old costume.” I respond, internally cringing at the old princess costumes stuffed in a box in the attic. When I hung with John B, Sarah, and the gang we made fun of the Kook Academy kids who would dress up and get disgustingly hammered in costumes causing chaos across town. 

“Just make sure its tight and sexy. I’ll pick you up around 7:30 for my pregame okay?” she says before we go our seperate ways in the parking lot. I give her a weak smile before entering my car, sighing and putting in the closest clothing store in Kildare I could find on my GPS. 

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

I decided to go as a vampire. It was easy to find a black lace corset and black mini skirt. I stopped at the local Spirit Halloween on the way home for some fake blood and figured I would just do dark black and red makeup to match. 

After putting the finishing touches to my makeup, I took a sip of the mixed drink I made myself, pregaming the pregame because I was about to be with people I wasn’t really friends with the entire night. 

I move all of my essential belongings to a tiny black Coach purse with silver embellishments that matched my excessive jewlery. My phone rings with a text message, and I sit by my vanity to respond.

Sarah Cameron

What’re you up to tonight?

I debate on telling her I’m going to her ex boyfriends house for a fucking Halloween party. I take a huge gulp from my drink and type a response

Some Kook Halloween party 🙄 wby?

I decide it’s best she doesn’t know I know whos party it is. She immediately repsonds

Oh is it Toppers lmao?

I sigh and begin to type before her chat bubble appears.

Think we were gonna crash that ;)

I laugh and respond

Please do I need to see some familiar faces.

I’ll text you if its confirmed we’re just scheming right now.

I like her text and receive one from Sabrina

Be there in 5.

I like her text and chug the rest of my drink, walk to my closet and debate on what shoes to wear. I decide to go with the all black theme and choose my favorite pair of tall gogo boots that make me at least 4 inches tallers. I walk slowly up the stairs in attempt to avoid my parents seeing my extremely revealing outfit, epically failing when my mom pops her head out of the kitchen as I reach the last step.

“Where are you headed?” she asks, quirking her eyebrow up and looking at me up and down. 

“A Halloween party with some friends from school.” I reply, pulling my skirt down, avoiding eye contact. 

“I’m glad you’re making friends. Be safe.” she responds before going back into the kitchen. 

I roll my eyes. Of course shes fine with me looking like this as long as it’s kids from Figure 8. My phone buzzes and I open it.

Sabrina

Here bitch

“Bye Mom Bye Dad” I shout before exiting the house. 

I jump into the passenger seat, and she reaches over to hug me. I flinch lightly, never receiving this type of intimacy from her before. I guess we were really friends now. She’s dressed as princess peach, with the tiniest dress I’ve ever seen and the iconic crown on her head.

She turns her car back on and turns her volume all the way.

“LETS GO GET FUCKED UPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP” she cheers before driving off.

We reach her house and she takes me to her basement. Theres a full bar, a pong table and a large couch unoccupied. 

“Whats your drink of choice?” she asks stepping behind the bar. 

“Just a vodka sprite” I respond, making myself comfortable on her couch. Before shes done making my drink, a rumble of footsteps come down the stairs and a group of guys I’ve seen in passing from classes come down, crowding around Sabrina with hugs. 

She pulls away from the group, handing me a red solo cup with my drink in it filled to the brim.

“Everyone this is Y/N” They all take a second to eye me up and down and I stand up, self conscious of how far my skirt rides up when I sit.

“Yea you used to hang with the pogues right?” One pipes up. Sabrina rolls her eyes and walks back behind the bar to start making drinks for the boys. 

“Be nice. Shes on the right side of town now.” They let the conversation go and I inspect everyones outfits, they’re all dressed as super heroes, some with just capes, no shirts, some with their shirts propped open. I force myself to not make eye contact with any of them until one approaches me.

“So what made you come finally hang with the kooks?” he inquires, taking a sip from his cup.

“Was getting into too much trouble and I wanna get into a good school.” I respond, mimicking him and taking a sip from his drink.

“What school d’ya wanna go to?” he asks. Before I can respond another rumble of steps come down the stairs and an even larger group of people come down, a few of them dressed as the crew from scooby doo, and three girls dressed like the powerpuff girls. I smile at the way everyone embraced the theme, feeling the liquor increase my confidence. 

I walk up to the bar and request another drink from Sabrina, but shes too distracted by a guy dressed as Superman is chatting her up. My phone buzzes and I look down to see a text from Sarah.

Were coming. Is everyone actually dressed up?

Yes 😵 Im a vampire lol

OMG Lemme see

I lean over the bar and interrupt Sabrina’s conversation to ask her where the bathroom is. She points around the corner and I walk over. Its unoccupied and I inspect myself in the mirror. Fixing my hair, I grab my dark red lipstick out of my purse and reapply, before pulling out my phone to snap a picture. I send it to Sarah.

Holy shit you actually committed. You look HAWT

I laugh at my phone before someone pounds on the door.

“One Sec” I respond, blotting my lips on a piece of toilet paper before opening the door.

“All yours” I mumble before heading back to the bar in hopes of actually getting another drink.

“Be my pong partner” Sabrina pleads after refilling my cup. 

“Okayyyy” I respond, feeling my words already start to slur. We get behind the table and I look across the table, seeing a boy from my English class and another from my history class. 

I had played beer pong before with the crew, and I was decent, but I figured these kids would beat my ass.

On the contrary, Sabrina and I whooped their ass, which led to us jumping around the table spilling our drinks all over the floor.

“SABBBB” Someone calls from the top of the stairs. A group of people walk down all dressed as Mario characters.

“You guys are so late it’s almost time to go to Tops party” she pouts, hugging the guy dressed as Mario, who I’ve picked up over the last few weeks is her controlling possessive boyfriend. I huff, finishing the last of my drink, realizing that I was now alone, my partner in crime being stolen from me as he aggressivley clung to her side as the new group of people cracked open the beers they brought in plastic bags. 

I go behind the bar, figuring that Sabrina was now off duty since she was occupied and began puring myself a very heavy handed third drink. 

“Hey bartender, wanna fill me up?” the same guy from the couch was leaning over the bar putting his cup out to me. I blush and adjust my skirt.

“Sure, what were you having?” 

“Vodka water.” he responds. I turn and feel his eyes on me, I feel my body warm in a sensation I hadn’t felt in a while. 

I hand him back his cup and he smirks before taking a sip.

“I’m Noah by the way” he says, holding a hand out. 

‘I’m Y/N” I respond, shaking his hand and making my way around the bar to stand next to him. 

“You’ve gotten hot since the last time you used to hang around us.” He says, winking at me. 

“Yea like middle school.” I joke before taking a large sip of my drink. 

He laughs and scoots a bit closer to me. “So you never told me, what college are you thinking about.”

“Mhmmm probably NC State.” I respond, looking down into my cup.

“Nah you gotta come to Duke with the rest of us.”

I roll my eyes and look across the room.

“I kinda fucked my chances with that one by not doing many extracurriculars.” I respond, finally turning to look at him. He rolls his eyes this time and smirks again. 

“If you think thats why we’re all getting in then you’re wrong” he grins and clinks his cup against mine.

“‘S all about connections. Lemme know if you need a good word, my dads an alumni.” he says before walking away. I bite my bottom lip, realizing this was exactly what my parents hoped would happen. For me to network my way into these kids lives and get the connections I needed. Those bastards were right. I didn’t wanna go to Duke though, that was never a thought I’ve even had. Maybe I would consider but I didn’t need to attend a school like that to get a good degree.

My thoughts were interrupted by Sabrina standing on the coffee table infront of the couch.

“EVERYONE FINISH THEIR DRINKS IN THE NEXT 30 SECONDS ITS TIME TO GO PARTYYYY” She cheers before her boyfriend picks her up off the table, slinging her over his shoulder, slapping her ass infront of everyone. I choke on my liquid, cringing at the way everyone laughed at her. 

I trail behind the group as we walk to the Thornton Mansion, bracing myself for the next level of social interaction I was about to face. 

I feel my body vibrate to the bass as soon as we step foot inside the front door, the ceiling lights off, living room illuminated with LEDs across the ceiling and floor lamps that are pink and green. I’m not shocked but I immediately lose Sabrina and the group I walked in with, finding myself alone and wandering to the bar, in hopes that they had liquor.

“Whatcha want -” The tall male voice says before stopping his sentence when he finally faces me.

“Y/N” Rafe whispers, clearing his throat. He’s wearing Slytherin robes, his hair slicked back Draco style.

“Hey” I respond, regretting that I walked to this bar.

“What’re you doing here?” he asks. I feel my confidence rise at the question, refusing to let him belittle me tonight.

“It was an open invite. Why wouldn’t I be here.” I retort staring into his once again blown pupils.

“Dind’t think this was your scene.” He responds nonchalantly. 

“You must not know much about me then. Can I get a vodka sprite please.”

He nods his head and turns to the back of the bar, mixing my drink into a red solo cup. 

He passes it to me without another word, turning to the girl beside me. “Whatcha want pretty girl?” He asks, staring blatantly at her boobs. I roll my eyes and walk throught the backdoor to see a group group of people surrounding an inground pool. I find an unoccupied pool chair and take a seat.

My phone buzzes with a text from Sarah

We’re about to pull up

I immediately respond

Im in the back by the pool

I play on my phone until I hear my name being called across the pool, looking up to see a group of 5 people wearing masquerade masks waving at me. I jump up and run across the pavement to meet them. Jumping into Kiara’s arms first, she swings me around laughing. 

“The fuck are these costumes?” I ask.

“Well it was a last minute decision and we knew if people could actually see our faces we’d be kicked out instantly.” JJ declares, pulling a beer out of his bookbag.

“Hmm good move.” I respond. 

“Lets dance!” Kiara cheers, grabbing me and Sarah’s hands, leading us back inside to the group of people dancing in the dining room.

After a few songs I walk to the bar to get another drink. Before I reach the bar I feel a rough yet familiar hand grab my arm, turning me around. Rafe’s face is lowered to meet mine, a stern look upon his face.

“Why the fuck are they here” he says, gritting his teeth.

“Dunno what you’re talking about” I say, yanking my arm from his grip. He follows me to the bar, and presses his chest against my arm, reaching down to my ear.

“I can smell a Pogue a mile away. Who the fuck do you think you are inviting them?” I roll my eyes and order the same drink from the drunk dude behind the counter. 

“Look, I didn’t invite any Pogues. And stop grabbing me like that.” I say, pushing his chest off of my arm and turning to head back to the dancefloor. Rafe loses me in the crowd and I notice my friends are no longer in the same place they were. 

I look around frantically for their masks and see Kiara and Sarah without their masks on, getting questioned by Topper and Kelce. The boys are nowhere to be found.

“Fuck” I whisper. I see Rafe making a b-line towards their direction and I push through the crowd to reach them.

“Sarah, the fuck are you doin here?” Rafe shouts at her. She rolls her eyes, clinging to Kiara. 

“Rafe leave them alone,” I speak up once I finally reach them. He ignores me and takes a step towards her.

“We just popped in to see what was going on. We’re leaving now.” Kiara responds, pulling Sarah’s arm.

I look at them with pleading eyes, not wanting to be left alone again with these people.

They sadly wave to me before exiting, Topper slamming the door behind them. Rafe turns to me with a scowl on his face. I turn around and head to the bathroom. 

I pull out my phone to see a text from JJ

Sorry had to bolt on you like that Y/N. Top was looking hella pissed and we didn’t want them to take shit out on you.

That’s alright. It was nice seeing you 🙂

Sarah Cameron

Well that was a bust. Sorry we couldn’t stay longer. Really didn’t want to give Rafe a reason to rat me out to Ward

It’s alright I’m glad I got to see you!!

I sigh, clicking my phone off and exiting the bathroom, finding Rafe standing outside, leaning against the wall. 

“You smoke?” he asks. 

“Yea” My drunk brain makes me respond without thinking.

“Follow me”

I trail behind Rafe as he takes me to the side patio, where a group of people are sitting around a fire pit. He pulls up a chair for me and hands me a water bottle. I’m slightly confused at his niceness but decide not to question it if I am about to get free weed. 

The blunt is finally passed around to me and I take a few hits before passing to Rafe.

“Do we really have to listen to this?” I ask, referring to the loud ass trap music playing from a speaker next to Topper.

Everyone goes silent and looks at me with wide eyes.

“Whos on aux?” I ask, sitting up.

“Me. Whats wrong with this music?” I laugh and open my water bottle

“Its not smoking music. Its bouta make me tweak. You gotta play something chill like Tame Impala.”

Topper looks at Rafe and he shrugs his shoulders.

I speak up again. “Play anything from their album Currents. Its my favorite to listen to while I’m crossed.” I say. At this point I’m amazed by my confidence, but then again everytime I smoke I realize how insignificant anyones opinion of me really is. 

Topper plays The Less I know The Better and another blunt is lit up, circling around the group again. As the songs finishes, I realize no one has spoken a word since the song started. 

Topper’s glazed eyes look over at me and he begins to giggle like a little boy.

“That was a good call” he finally says. I smile at him and sink into my seat, staring up at the stars, feeling the intoxication take over. 

After what only felt like seconds, I feel an aggressive tap on my shoulder. I slowly move my eyes to follow the sensation and see Sabrina, with a crooked crown and makeup smudged under her eyes.

“Whats wrong” I slur out, trying to find the courage to pull myself up from the slouched positon I was in. 

“I found Derek making out with a girl in the bathroom. Can we go?” I sober up enough to sit myself up right.

“Oh my god, Sab I’m so sorry. Yea yea lets go.” I say, grabbing my purse. I’m too busy helping Sabrina up the patio stairs to realize Rafe followed us to the front of the house. I jump when I finally see his shadow linger behind us.

“Hey uh I just wanted to let you know we’re having something at my house next weekend. I think. We’re still waiting to hear if my dads gonna be out of town or not.” I nod my head, holding onto Sabrina as she silently sobs.

“Uhh if you want I can text you an update.” I stare at him in repsonse, shocked at his forwardness. 

“Um sure.” I say, pulling phone out of my purse handing it to him. 

He types his number into my phone and I slip it back into my purse.

“Get home safe. Sorry about Derek, Sab. He’s a dickhead.” she loudly sobs in reponse and his eyes widen.

“Text me when you’re home yea?” he says as we start to walk away. I nod my head and lead Sabrina and I back to her house. 

After Sabrina is finally done puking her guts out in the toilet I pull my phone out, remembering I told Rafe when we got home. I stop myself before pressing send. Why do I feel obligated to let him know anything about me? The crossed haze I was still lingering in decided to send a simple text just to get the feeling out of me. After taking off my makeup and changing into a T-shirt and shorts I hear my phone ding

Rafe

Everything all good over there?

I look over to see Sab is already passed out on her side of the bed. I internally debated between responding now or waiting until the morning, he wouldn’t know if we were asleep or not anyways. 

All good!

I have hopes he doesn't respond so I can pretend like this isn’t fucking weird, but there’s also a small hope inside of me that he does. It’s probably best if I just go to sleep at this point. 

Rafe’s POV

I watch her stumble down the driveway, clutching Sabrina’s waist, her loud sobs echoing in the darkness. 

Chewing on the inside of my cheek feeling how dry my mouth is I walk to the back patio sitting down and start chugging my water.

“Y/Ns not too bad” Topper says, offering the blunt to me. 

“‘M good” I mumble, sitting back and finishing off the water.

“Yea, she’s a lot nicer than you described.” Kelce chimes in, takin the blunt from Toppers hand. 

“Didn’t she used to hang with your sister and those freaks from the cut?” one of the random girls sitting across from me says. I grit my teeth in response and roll my eyes.

“At first I thought she was odd since shes so quiet but maybe we just need to get to know her” another girl pipes in.

“Yea, you invite her next week?” Top asks me, quirking up his eyebrow.

“Yea, but who knows if she’ll even show.” I grumble, reaching behind me for another water.

“I hope she does she seems cool.” the same girl responds. Kelce nods in agreement. “And shes hot as fuck” he says, fist-bumping Topper. He giggles like a little girl and ashes the blunt. 

“You guys are annoying.” I say before standing up. “I’m heading out.” I say, reaching out my hand to dap up Topper.

“Dude why its early?” he asks in protest. I stare daggers down at him and feel my jaw clenching.

“Got shit to do with my dad tomorrow.” 

“Got it.” he says, and waves goodbye.

As I walk down the driveway I pull out my phone. There’s a few texts from random girls I ran into tonight, a few snapchats from some guys that probably wanted coke. But no text form her yet. I stuff the phone back in my pocket, heading home. 

When I finally reach the front door, I see Sarah and John B sitting on the living room couch.

“Hey” she says as I take my shoes off. I probably would’ve said hello back if John wasn’t in my house, but decided to wave her off and head upstairs. I turn the shower on, but before I jump in, I check my phone again and see that there’s no new messages. 

My mind starts to run wild, thinking about how soft her thighs looked in the mini skirt she was wearing. I love when she wears black, she always looks so confident in anything, but she shines best in black. She also always has her makeup done perfectly. I’ve always wondered how girls get a sharp wing. The way the fake blood dripped down her neck into the crevice of her chest made my blood run hot. I wonder what her neck tastes like. I got a whiff of her perfume, it was sweet like berries yet musky.

I finish up in the shower and dry myself off. I pull on a clean pair of boxers and climb into bed, checking my phone for the last time before I go to sleep.

Y/N

Home :)

I feel my cheeks heat up in response. What the fuck is wrong with me, why am I blushing over the freak my sister hangs out with. Why have I been waiting for this fucking text to put my mind at ease. I debate on what to type in response, wanting to play it cool, but also curious about what happened with Sabrina and Derek.

I internally cringe before pressing send, and decide it’s best I go to bed before she has time to respond. 

Previous Chapter | Instagram AU | Next Chapter

[satansapostle6]

The Man Who Sold The World | Luke Castellan

Spotify Playlist Link

Katherine. She was the one who started it all for Luke Castellan, the reason he did what he did.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Violence. Sexual content.

Chapter One

Chapter Two: …And Into the Mist

“So, what’s next?” Luke asked, looking to Katherine in the driver’s seat of the stolen Camaro. “Now that I’m officially an accessory?”

“Aw, you’re being modest,” Katherine joked. “Without you, who would’ve been the lookout?”

“You seriously planned that?” he narrowed his eyes at her.

“Of course,” she scoffed, speeding down to the motel.

“But, you didn’t even ask me to come work you,” he pointed out.

“I’ve been doing this a while,” she sighed, pulling into the motel parking lot.

“So you steal cars wherever you go?” he asked, his tone more conversational than accusatory.

“Last one got destroyed in a fight with a griffin, so I needed a new one,” Katherine explained. “I saw the keys locked in this one on the way up here. So, I took the opportunity.”

“You’re very observant,” Luke noticed. “You were never trained?”

“Better; I’ve been on my own since I was twelve.”

“Fair enough,” he sighed, understanding her experiences. “So, are you gonna tell me what this hunt is that we’re supposed to be going on?”

Katherine readied herself for a long conversation as the two of them headed back into the dirty motel room.

“Alright. Lemme ask you this; if you could answer to someone other than the gods, would you?” she crossed her arms.

“What are you saying?” Luke looked up at her as he sat down, bewildered.

“I’m saying… wouldn’t you go for a regime change if you could?” she posed a question.

“Is that even possible?” he asked her.

“Yeah. It is,” she nodded. “You could serve someone who isn’t your father, or Zeus.”

“What makes you think I don’t like my father?” Luke asked cautiously. “Or, Zeus?”

“Well, for one, you’re here,” she pointed out, “And I didn’t even have to take anything off.”

“You’re telling me that was an option?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Look. When you told me you were a child of Hermes, I saw the way you looked, and I filled in the blanks for myself,” Katherine Montalvo stated. “The gods don’t give a shit about us. You went unclaimed, or at least unnoticed. Tell me if I’m wrong.”

There was nothing but a decent pause, as Luke considered what she said.

“Look, I know how it goes. I didn’t know my mother was my mother until I was thirteen. I had to figure out being a demigod on my own,” she frowned. “Even with my father being the asshole he was, she hardly lifted a fucking figure to help me. Look at all the unclaimed, and the shit goes on all over the world; the gods don’t care about us!” she exclaimed.

Luke sat for a moment, listening to her words.

“They don’t care about anyone!” she reasoned. “They’ve never been parents to any of us. They don’t give a shit about us! But imagine if we could get on their level! Imagine if no one could ignore us!”

Luke felt just as broken and downtrodden as she did. He’d known for years, ever since he was a child, that life had been unfair. He’d often wished when he was younger that he could do something about it, and fight for some sort of attention from his father, which was something he’d since given up on.

Not only did he find the prospect of somehow becoming as powerful as the gods to be appealing, but he was also lured by the darkness of Katherine’s eyes. There was something strangely manic about her, a raw sort of energy that he found hypnotic and contagious.

“Listen. I’ve been hearing this… voice. Like how I heard my mother’s, but it wasn’t hers.”

Luke Castellan met her eyes in shock, her words resonating with him.

“Wait. This voice,” he spoke up, “What’s it like?”

“The voice,” Katherine explained, “It’s deep, and… jarring. Like nothing I’ve ever heard before. It… it knows things. And it’s shown me things I could never dream of before.”

“Like, things that could make you more powerful?” Luke questioned. “Things that turned out helpful?”

“You hear him too,” she realized, searching his face in wonder. “Kronos. He speaks to you, too.”

“Kronos?” Luke asked. “The Titan? That’s who it is?”

“Yeah. He calls out to me, Luke. If I’m the one who resurrects him, glory and power are mine.”

“So, he really does speak to you, too!” he concluded. “He wants you to bring him back,” he whispered.

“Luke, we could bring him back,” Katherine scoffed. “Together, we could be the ones who help him rise back to power. Do you know what kind of rewards we’d get for that sort of thing?!”

“So it’s real,” he concluded. “Kronos chose us to be his soldiers.”

“Yeah. He did,” she insisted. “Together, we could bring him back, and be gods in the new world! If we succeed, we don’t have to answer to the gods, we could take their place!”

“That’s what I’ve always wanted,” Luke confided in her. “My whole life, I’ve just been a shadow. Why should my father and the other absentee landlords on Olympus get to stand in the spotlight?”

“Then what’s the issue? Help me find him. There are clues all over! If we listen to the voice, we can find him, and bring him back!”

“Alright. I’ll come with you,” he decided. “When I get back, I’ll tell everyone at camp I was on the quest. What did any of them ever do for me anyways?” he said bitterly.

“That camp is bullshit,” she scoffed. “You think the god of wine cares about demigods? Everyone knows he’s just there on a punishment. I’ve met demigods who’ve left Camp Half-Blood. They’re happier making it on their own.”

“Really?” Luke asked. “Who?”

“I’ve met a few. But I remember meeting Emma Pacheco, and Leo Jordan in Texas.”

“Oh. I remember them,” Luke realized. “She’s a daughter of Athena, and he’s a son of Hephaestus, right?”

“She’s a daughter of Athena, and he’s dead,” Katherine remembered. “He died in a Gorgon attack. I tried to help him, but… I couldn’t. Emma was devastated.”

Luke looked at her sympathetically, realizing that battle scars tended to run deeper.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a low, apologetic tone. “I’ve lost people too.”

“When I was younger, I thought living my life on the road would be easier. I thought I’d never have to know anyone long enough to care, and then, I’d never get hurt.”

Luke thought for a moment, finding that was mostly his experience in the brief amount of time he’d spent on his own as a child.

“But, that wasn’t how it happened?”

“The longer you’re on the road, the more people you meet,” she sighed, “Even if you don’t know them long. Eventually, you see more people die than most people do in a lifetime.”

“I can’t imagine it’s safe leaving the camp for that long,” he reasoned.

“That, and demigods aren’t known to live long anyways,” Katherine stated. “This lifestyle in general, it… it pretty much only ends one way.”

“Then, why do you do it?” he questioned. “Why don’t you, I don’t know… live a normal life?”

“‘Normal’?” she scoffed. “As a demigod?”

“Yeah. I guess we don’t get a whole lot of options,” he agreed understandingly.

“I dropped out of the sixth grade. My dad was an addict. I’m not giving up much by hunting monsters,” she said humorously. “At least this way, I’m helping somebody.”

“I get that,” Luke offered. “I really do.”

“Yeah. We don’t have many options,” Katherine reasoned, “So Kronos is our best bet.”

“So, what’s our first move?” he asked. “Where’s our first stop?”

“In my dreams, I saw the Underworld,” she told him.

“So you’ve had those dreams too?” he questioned.

“Yeah.”

“What else did you see?” he wondered.

“I don’t know. For me, the visions come gradually. I think we need to get on the road,” she thought, “Both of us.”

“You think that’ll work?” Luke asked, frustrated with the vague dreams and voices.

“I’ve never been able to force the voice. I something just has to trigger it,” she rationalized.

“Katherine. This is crazy. I just met you,” Luke thought aloud. “I have no idea how long we’ll be gone. They’ll never believe I’m on the quest. I finished it almost a week ago.”

“I have an idea,” she proposed. “I have a car, I’ll drive you back to New York. You can find a new excuse, and get us some supplies, and we can go off and find Kronos.”

“Yeah, but where?” Luke demanded. “Where do we even start?”

“Well, I wasn’t completely sure, but I was thinking I’d try the Underworld,” Katherine suggested.

“The Underworld? Without a plan?” Luke asked skeptically.

“Despite me carrying you through the woods on my back for two days straight, I think we have a shot,” she frowned.

Luke considered the idea for a moment.

“Alright. I’ll stock up on supplies and weapons at the camp, and then we’ll go to the Underworld. I just don’t know how we’ll get there,” he frowned.

“Easy. There’s an entrance in Central Park,” she informed him.

“There is?” Luke asked.

“Yeah. The Door of Orpheus,” Katherine replied.

“But, don’t you need music to open it?” he recalled.

“Yeah. I can sing,” she nodded.

“Can you?”

“Yeah. I can,” Katherine smiled sarcastically.

Both of them were alerted by a loud, aggressive knock on the door.

“Housekeeping!” a man’s voice shouted.

Luke went to get the door, as Katherine quickly grabbed him by the arm.

“Don’t open the door!” she whispered urgently.

“Why not?” he whispered back.

“That’s not housekeeping!”

“What, you think it’s a monster?” Luke said in a low murmur.

“No. It’s not a monster,” she snapped, grabbing her bag from the bed. “Open the door, and then run.”

Katherine quickly tossed the keys at Luke, as he caught them instinctively. He watched her as she reached for something tucked into the back of her belt.

“Get the car going,” she said through her teeth.

“What are you gonna do?” Luke demanded.

“Open the fucking door!” she whispered.

Knowing not to ask any more questions, Luke threw the door open, rushing the man on the other side of the door and shoving him to the ground. Another man followed. Feeling the need to help Katherine, Luke unsheathed his dagger, only to be interrupted by Katherine herself.

“Go! Start the car!” she yelled.

Luke stared in horror as he heard gunshots, looking to see her holding the gun that accompanied them. Thinking fast, he ran to the Camaro less than ten feet away in the parking lot. He jumped into the car, waiting and on edge as he watched.

It didn’t take many more gunshots for him to see Katherine running toward the car, leaving behind two still bodies on the ground behind her. He unlocked the car door as she jumped in, screaming at him to drive.

Luke pealed out of the parking lot in the Camaro, keeping calm as Katherine sat in the seat beside him, pistol cocked in her lap as she cautiously looked out the window.

“What the fuck was that?!” Luke screamed as he drove their getaway car as fast as humanly possible.

“Just drive,” she muttered. “Don’t stop until we’re out of the city.”

“Okay, if I’m gonna be an accessory to a double homicide you committed,” Luke insisted, “I’m gonna at least need the bullet points.”

“Fine, you women are so needy!” Katherine rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say, I killed a guy in St. Louis, and he’s got family.”

“This guy you killed,” Luke said as calmly as he could, “Why did you kill him?”

“That thousand year-old map I have? The one that I use to try and figure out what actually happened to Kronos? How do you think I got it?” she asked impatiently.

“Why?” he asked subsequently.

“Because. Usually, when you steal artifacts that have survived millennia, you tend to run into some complications,” she snapped. “Besides. The guy wasn’t exactly a pillar of society.”

“Why?” Luke inquired curiously. “What happened?”

Katherine sighed, staring down at the gun in her lap before answering.

“I was dating this rich guy. He owned a museum, and that map came into his possession. He didn’t know what it was, because he didn’t speak Ancient Greek, but obviously, I did,” she explained. “I wanted the map, and I wanted out. The end.”

“Wait,” Luke stopped her, “You… You dated a guy who owned a museum?”

“Yeah,” she responded stiffly.

“How—How old was he?” he asked.

“Thirty-six,” she said.

Luke looked at her as he drove, seeing emotion in her eyes for the first time.

“How old were you?” he asked.

She turned to look at him, seeing that he asked knowing she had no comforting answer for him.

“I was young,” she said simply.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he breathed, unable to imagine the extent of her pain.

“You don’t know me,” Katherine told him, pushing him away in a way that wasn’t physical. “You don’t know me at all, okay? You don’t know what I feel, and you don’t know what I’ve had to do to survive.”

“No,” he agreed. “I don’t.”

“Trust me. You don’t need to,” she assured him, still unable to remove the gun from her lap.

Katherine knew that she’d never felt an affinity to anyone. Her father, the only parent she’d ever known, wasn’t much of a parent, and no one she’d met on the road since she left home was reliable. But the scar beneath his right eye told her everything she needed to know.

She knew Luke had been broken down the same way she had, which was also the only reason she’d decided he was the one to recruit on her mission to find the Titan of time, the father of the gods. Katherine knew she needed dependability in Luke, and she knew the only way they could both succeed was as soldiers first and people second.

-

Chapter Three

[jonesyjonesyjonesy]

Wildflowers (pt. xxii.i)

a john paul jones x fem!oc fic (in progress)

summary: Julia Morgan knew nannying for three girls who had recently lost their mother would come with many challenges. But she never thought their father, the enigmatic musician John Paul Jones, would be causing her the most trouble. And while Julia is not in the business of saving broken men, her tenderness might be meant for more than little girls and wildflowers.

table of contents │ previous chapter

masterlist│ko-fi

notes: drug use, dubcon, attempted sa, violence, blood, nsfw

a/n: it seems unfair on such a beautiful day as this when i have witnessed joh in the flesh to bring you such an angsty chapter, but...here we are. the story, the fluff as we have known it, is about to take a turn. yet another two parter. please be careful with this one.

pt. xxii.i, jack-go-to-bed-at-noon

“'Damn. Julia. Right. Julia. Maureen is…' He laughed. 'She’s dead.'"

“The veins in your eyes. They look like…lightning.”

I pursed my lips.

“Did you know that?” he asked eagerly.

This wasn’t going well. “Lift your arms, John.”

The sheer curiosity in his expression turned into a smirk that would have been playful in a different moment, but for now made my stomach lunge to expel itself through my mouth. “Are you trying to get into my trousers?”

“I’m trying…to get you ready for bed. You need to rest,” I said as calmly as I could though my blood had been absolutely roiling for the past half hour.

John lifted a hand, unsteady like he was under anesthesia. He gripped the collar of my dressing gown and tried to pull me down toward him, but his strength was buffeted by whatever was in his system and his hand plummeted to the mattress. “You really ought to buy a lady dinner first, Maureen.”

I should explain from the beginning, shouldn’t I?

It started with one of John’s nightly phone calls, the ones I’d been surviving off of once again after he returned to Headley Grange after my birthday. Weeks had passed and the girls and me were…surviving would be the best way to put it.

This night’s phone call, this bloody fucking night’s phone call, was out of the ordinary because it was made from a telephone booth.

“I don’t have long,” John said, no, slurred into the receiver.

“You’re drunk,” I remarked with a giggle. Not the first time I’d dealt with him intoxicated or under the influence of some substance on a phone call. Speaking with him in such a state didn’t sit well in my gut, but clouded by the haze of what I thought to be love, I was willing to overlook it.

“Not drunk. Tipsy,” he replied with an obvious smile on his lips.

I had been awaiting his call on the sofa, nodding off several times before the phone finally rang. I was admittedly grateful the call would be short. “And I’m exhausted.”

“Oh, darling,” he cooed. “Of course you are. You should sleep.”

“I was waiting for your call.”

“Did I keep you awake?”

I let out a laugh, shaking low in my chest. “Yes, you dolt. Now say sweet things to make up for it.”

“Ah…let’s see…”

The seconds ticked by.

I lifted myself onto my elbows. “Have you forgotten all the things you like about me?”

“No, no, not at all. I’m trying to decide how to say what I want to say.”

I stared across the room without seeing, heart pounding at the back of my tongue.

“You’ll say I’m being…I don’t know.”

“Say it, John, just say it.”

There was a thunk on the line. John leaning up against the wall of the phone booth or accidentally knocking the phone against the holder. I wondered if he was really so drunk he was swaying back and forth.

“We should tell them, shouldn’t we? They should know.”

I furrowed my brow. “Your bandmates? What on Earth do they have to do with anything?”

“No, no, no, MmmJulia.”

I sat all the way up, my adrenaline pumping, completely erasing my previous desire for sleep.

“When I get home, I’m going to tell the girls. ‘Bout you and me.”

I sucked in my cheeks to hold in a squeal of delight. I wasn’t sure it was warranted. Had to remain coolheaded. Reasonable. “You’re drunk.”

“So?”

“So, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know what –” He hiccupped. “I know what I’m saying.”

“Mhm. Well, call me in the morning and tell me if you remember, alright?”

“Julia.”

I shut my eyes and pursed my lips. Damn him for the way he said my name like that with such need it made me forget myself.

John breathed harshly into the phone. “I’ll remember.”

I swallowed. “Just because you’ll remember doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do.”

“You don’t want me to tell them?” His question was equally taunting and disappointed.

“I didn’t say that, I just don’t know if they’re…” The girls would never be ready. It would never be the right time. Regardless of their affection for me, I was explicitly in their eyes that I was Julia. The nanny. I would not fill the role of “mum”. But stepping into the spot next to John would change that. To tell them that we’ve been pulling the wool over their eyes, doing the things their mother did with their father, hiding behind a moniker.

Children are always smarter than we give them credit for.

I could already imagine the betrayal they’d feel.

“They’re ready,” John said firmly. “They’re – I’m ready.”

But I wasn’t going to argue with that.

“Running out of time, got to go.”

“Be careful.”

“Am. Always. Sleep.”

He hung up without another word. And though my heart throbbed excitedly at the idea that maybe our transformative relationship would transform even further, I couldn’t shake the emptiness I felt looking at the phone in my hand.

Being with John, really with him, would mean taking on all parts of his life. He’d have to take on mine too, but not in the same way. Not when mine was so small in comparison. Not when I had packed away my life to fit into his because it was my job. My duty.

As his employee.

As a woman.

I let my mind rove the place I had never let it go before.

To be with John. That would mean an eventual marriage, wouldn’t it? And an eventual marriage would mean a commitment to caring for his children. Having more, should he be agreeable to it. I would go from nanny to mother.

Ostensibly, nothing should change.

But it would.

Because I had not yet seen the hard parts of a musician’s life. Over those few weeks, John was only a phone call away. If something was wrong, he could make the drive back whatever time of day.

How would I survive with him across the ocean?

How would I survive knowing the kind of man he became when the woman he loved was out of reach?

I spiraled so fast for so long that exhaustion returned quickly. I buried myself in bed, trying to push away all of my questions. I could save those for the light of day. For a sober John.

At least that’s what I thought. What I hoped.

Instead, I woke up to a crunching sound outside. Brittle and hard against my eardrums. I leapt out of bed and hurried to the windows overlooking the driveway, peering through the curtains.

There was a dark blue car I’d never seen parked askew in the driveway, illuminated by the yellow lamplight. In its wake, one of the stone planters was left shattered across the ground, dirt in the tire tracks, flowers smashed up.

I held my breath and watched as the driver got out of the car. Feral haired and bearded.

Richard Cole.

An arm shot out from the passenger window and a bellowing voice cried out, “Ya thick fuckin’ wanker!”

A voice I'd recognize anywhere. The voice of Peter Grant.

Richard growled something in return before slamming his car door and tripping toward the front door.

I leapt into action, afraid that in whatever state he was in it would wake the girls, grabbing my robe and sprinting down the backstairs, past the studio, and into the foyer.

The banging began just seconds before I reached the door. Bang, bang –

“One moment!” I hissed as loud as I could, pulling my robe on to at least be somewhat decent. I threw open the door. “What the hell are you doing here?” I say, tying a defiant knot in my robe sash.

Richard, whose first impression had not been terribly pleasant back in Montreux, had a marked look of fear in his eyes. Rather than being tense at the corners, they were loose and…wide. “John, he’s –he made us come here.”

A jab of unease in my chest. “John.”

“Yes, yes, he’s –”

I pushed past Richard and descended the front steps, paying no mind to my bare feet, set on the backdoor of the car.

Peter emerged just in time to intercept me. “Julia, wait, I need to warn you –”

There was an inconsolable sob from the back of the car, one I had not heard since that night on the kitchen floor when John broke the glass and the world shifted on its axis. “What’s wrong? What happened?” I asked, trying to get past him as my insides did everything to lurch me into the car to get to John as fast as possible.

Peter grabbed my bicep. “Listen to me. It’s all just a bad reaction.”

“Please, please, please –” John begged.

His pain was my pain. All of my nerves trembled, desperation rippling through my muscles. I pulled against Peter. Need to get to him. Need to –

John went on and on. “I need to see her, I need –”

“Let me go,” I snapped at Peter.

John shrieked. I’d never heard a sound like that from a grown man.

But it wasn’t wordless.

It was –

“Maureen!”

My entire body went rigid. I stopped fighting Peter’s strength.

“Julia…” Peter said in a soft tone.

I finally looked up at the giant. I was surprised Peter was capable of such gentleness.

“He does not know what he says,” Peter went on, words clipped and precise.

“He misses her,” I said in a vacant tone.

Peter shook his head. “No, no. He thinks she’s here.”

The crying continued. The begging for her. “What did you do to him?” I asked, trying to buy myself time before I had to face the wailing mess.

“No one did anything –” Richard began to argue.

“Cole, fuck off,” Peter pulled out his Mr. Hyde impression before shifting back to Dr. Jekyll. “You know what it’s like? The drinking and then the pills and –”

I ripped my arm from his touch. “I do not know what it’s like.” Not even my torrid past could have prepared me for this.

Peter huffed, holding his last thread of patience for me. “It’s a bad trip. That’s all. He’s confused.”

“If it’s just a bad trip why did you –”

He grimaced. “He’s been going on like this for hours now. We can’t get him to stop. And we thought seeing you would bring him back. Remind him of the…the reality.”

I looked between Peter and Richard. Their expressions told me everything. They knew. Not only in a Montreux, “Let’s get John laid,” way.

They knew everything. 

Gathering my courage, I pulled away from Peter and Richard, grabbed the car door handle, and pulled it open.

John was splayed out in the seat, head resting in the lap of a man I’d never seen before whose exhaustion with the situation was split with a smile of relief at the sight of me. However, John didn't seem to notice me as he convulsed with full body sobs.

“John?” I said, interrupting the weeping.

It took considerable effort for John to lift himself and look at me. His face was streaked with tears, hair a wreck, and his eyes black as night with the kind of high that takes you low. “Oh. Julia.”

Is that disappointment?

A smile crossed his face. “Juuuulia." He slapped his palm to his forehead, a bubbly guffaw tripping out of his mouth. “It’s Julia, of course it is.”

“We told you we’d take you home,” the man says meekly, voice tinged with an Irish accent.

“Yes, but I didn’t – I forgot –” John wiped his hand down his face and collapsed back into the arms of the small Irishman. His expression looked like it was melting. “Not Maureen. Julia.”

My stomach twisted. I leaned down onto the seat and held out my hand. “John, why don’t we head inside?”

John reached out for my hand, fingers stumbling to interlock with mine.

I pulled while the man pushed until John was sat on the edge of the seat, the soles of his shoes landing against the gravel as if for the first time. He curled forward, his head making him top heavy. I braced his shoulders. “John –”

While his body lacked strength everywhere else, his arms looped around me, right under my backside, his face buried into my belly. He inhaled deeply and then, on the exhale, said again, “Julia.”

If we weren’t being watched, I would have reciprocated the intimacy. Instead, I tucked my hands under his arms and started to lift. “Can you –” I grunted. “Stand?”

“Of course, I can stand,” he mumbled, rising to his feet, dragging his face up the length of my body until I forced him away.

“There you go,” I said with an attempted smile, my hands on his shoulders. “Let’s go upstairs and get you ready for bed, hm?”

He nodded hardily. “Oh yes. Yes, yes –“ He spun on his heel and took a step forward. Immediately, his legs gave out, crumpling beneath him like paper.

“Easy, there,” Peter said, catching John by the upper arm before he fell to the ground.

In Peter’s grip, John looked like a toddler being dragged out of a store for throwing a tantrum. I couldn’t help my revulsion. “Let’s get him inside," Peter ordered, almost nonplussed.

Richard grabbed John from the other side and began to drag him into the house.

I padded behind them, trying to get their attention. “You have to be quiet, the girls are –‘”

“Uh huh.”

“Take him up the backstairs. To my room,” I said, no longer afraid of my lack of propriety.

John’s head bobbed backward.

“Jesus Christ, for a little guy he’s dense, isn’t he?” Richard strained as they dragged John to the door.

“For fuck’s sake.” Peter ripped John from Richard’s grip, a doll rather than a person, and threw him over his shoulder. “Lead me, Cole.”

“Please, just not the main bedroom,” I squeaked, trying to snake past them to lead them where I wanted them to go.

John turned his head against Peter’s back toward me, eyes gleaming. “Juuuuulia.”

I stopped in my tracks and contemplated running in the other direction. That was not John. Not the John I knew. This was his doppelganger. It must have been. Otherwise, this was an alternate personality, one I wasn’t supposed to see.

A part of him I had been blissfully ignorant to.

I watched them go inside, remaining planted in one spot, wishing I could go home.

But home was here.

“Mandrax.”

I turned to find the little Irishman at my elbow. He was rearranging his black locks, palming it flat on his head.

“At least some of it was Mandrax,” he said, dropping his hands at his sides and smiling sympathetically. “Pills. Mix them with alcohol and lord knows what else…”

We both stared through the open door, watching Peter and Richard struggling up the stairs.

“He’ll be fine in the morning,” he offered.

“Yes, but will I?” I said, attempting a joke.

His eyebrows lifted. “That is a question, isn’t it?”

I exhaled through my nose, something like a laugh, but pathetic.

“I’m BP. The boys call me Beep.”

I tried to smile. In better circumstances, I would ask for the rest of his story. But tonight I wasn’t allotted that privilege. “I’m Julia.”

“Mm. Yes, well aware.”

I wondered how aware. Was he aware in passing? By accident? Had John tripped into another realm of consciousness and waxed poetic about me? “Sorry you got roped into this.”

He shrugged. “Happens with them.”

“Fuck’s sake, Cole!” Peter boomed from inside.

My body lurched back into action, into the house and up the main staircase. “You need to be quiet!” I scolded in the loudest whisper I could muster.

Peter turned, halfway in the door of the master, causing John’s head to knock into the doorframe. John whimpered.

“Oh, fucking hell," Richard hissed.

I followed Peter and Richard into the master bedroom and monitored John as he was laid out across the bed. I didn’t even care at that point they hadn’t followed instructions. I just wanted them gone.

“There you go, mate. You’re home now, alright? Nothing to cry over. Julia's right 'ere. She'll take care of you, alright?" Peter said, dusting his hands together. “Julia, hope you don’t mind if we bunk up.”

“Here?!” This was sheer lunacy.

Richard snorted, “No, in the stables. Where else?”

“We can’t make that drive again, not after all this. We’ll be out of your hair in the morning and we’ll take ‘im with us,” Peter explained, jerking his thumb at John.

I glanced at John who seemed nearly catatonic with his eyes trained on the ceiling and his hands bunched up on his chest. He’d be fine for a few moments, I reasoned. “Fine. Follow me.”

I led Richard, Peter, and BP, who lingered in the doorway like a phantom, down the hall to the guest rooms, the doors directly across from the girls’. “I swear to god, if you make any noise at all, I’ll have you drawn and quartered tonight.”

"I'd believe her," Beep muttered.

“Promise, all we need is a place to lay our heads, love,” Peter said, giving me a squeeze on the shoulder.

I threw my hands up in the air. “Just don’t wake the girls and we won’t have a problem.”

I started back down the hallway, leaving them to squabble and figure out who would share a room since there were only two to speak of. Before I slipped into the master, I glared over my shoulder and hushed them once more with narrowed, deathly eyes.

In an instant, the three men disappeared into the guest rooms.

With that settled, I could deal with John.

The room was silent except for his breathing.

It was the first time I got a good look at the room. Everything was spotlessly clean, not a hair out of place. Just a thin coating of dust across the room. And a glass on one of the night stands with a dried up ring of dust in the bottom. The water had completely evaporated.

A chill went through me, imagining who might have put the glass there with the intention to return to it at a later date.

Whether it was Maureen or John didn’t change the tragedy of the object.

John began to hum and swing his legs. He flung one hand through the air. It landed on his belt buckle. “Get these off,” he muttered in discomfort. His hand flopped like a dying fish, unable to grip and twist the leather the way he needed to be able to free himself.

“I’ll help.”

And that’s how we got into the conversation of the veins in my eyes being lightning bolts and the attempt at me getting his shirt up over his head and the flirtations and the…

 “You really ought to buy a lady dinner first, Maureen.”

I ignored him though I strained not to cry. I removed his belt, but didn’t dare touch the closure on his trousers. His arms were slack enough that I was able to pull his jumper up his neck, then work it over his head. When he reemerged, he puffed hair away from his mouth, giggling. “Randy,” he said, unable to form a sentence around it.

“I’m not randy, John,” I say with firmness.

“You’re removing my clothes, M –”

“Julia,” I interrupted. “I’m Julia. Not Maureen.”

John’s lazy eyes crimped open, clarity forming somewhere in the back of his mind. “Damn. Julia. Right. Julia. Maureen is…” He laughed. “She’s dead.”

I wanted to get away from him as fast as possible, but I couldn’t just leave him half dressed in the master. In hindsight, I should have. I tried to tune out his repetition of the word, “Dead,” as if it was a beat to a song rather than a horrible truth as I pulled his undershirt up halfway, revealing his pale navel.

John’s hand slid around my wrist. “Jewwwwwwwwwel.”

I suppressed a smile for the nickname. Auntie Gin’s nickname. “Take it off the rest of the way if you can,” I muttered, then went to root through the dresser for a nightshirt or something to cover him up.

Measured breaths. Clenched muscles. Only a few more moments. He’ll be out soon.

John made sounds of struggle behind me. I didn’t turn despite wanting to help. There was the soft sound of fabric falling to the ground followed by a grunt of relief. “I feel funny.”

“Of course you do. That’s why you need to get some sleep,” I say, grabbing a very wrinkled nightshirt from the drawer.

John was no longer squirming; he looked tossed across the bed like a ragdoll. Breath thick and deep. The only thing that made it clear he was still alive.

I returned to him with the shirt. One more step to victory. John seemed unaffected, staring off at something. A hallucination or a waking sleep. I took this as my opportunity to remove his pants. It took a bit of effort to wiggle them out from beneath his body without his help but not much. My heart plummeted to see his bare legs, the slight of skin where his briefs shrouded his crotch. Because for the first time in a long time, I didn’t want him. The feeling of desire…all drained out of me.

Of course, it’s more than natural not to want someone at all times.

But since Montreux, before then even, all I had done was want. And I had had.

What emptiness would arise if desire was not there to fill it?

I didn’t want to think about it.

“Just the shirt and then you can rest, John, alright?” I said softly.

He cooperated as much as he could. Sitting up took all his might, but once upright, I was able to shimmy the shirt over his head, down his torso. It was long enough to hit midthigh, swallowing up his small frame. And his smallness made me even sadder.

“There you are,” I said. “Ready for bed.”

John started to lean forward. If I dared step away, he would teeter off the edge of the bed and come crashing to the floor. I remained before him, let his forehead clunk against my clavicle.

“You didn’t just pass out, did you?” I asked. My pulse quickened. I grabbed his arms to shake him. “John, you’re awake still aren’t you?”

“Yesssss,” he slurred into my chest. “I’m…” he sighed. “Awake.”

His lips traced my skin with each word, like a baby drooling against my breast and…it endeared me to him. I wish it hadn’t.

I tentatively scraped my fingers through his hair to the back of his scalp and dropped a kiss to the crown of his head. He didn't need my ire. Not right now. In the morning, I'd want him to remember the way I cared for him? Not the anger or disdain.

“Mmm…”

“Julia,” I said firmly. “I’m Julia.”

“MmmmJuuuuuuulia…” John self-corrected.

“Yes, that’s right.”

John’s mouth opened wider, a messy kiss against my skin, spit trailing over my clavicle.

“John…” I admonished. But I did not draw away.

A mistake.

I let him kiss the spot over and over. Juvenile. Inexperienced. Like a barrister’s son in a closet.

Something about it…so nostalgic.

I could have a brief moment of longing. Of realizing how good it was to hold him when I expected another week before he'd be home. Of remembering what he said to me earlier that night on the phone. If I was going to be his and vice versa in not only our eyes but those of the girls…I could do this. I was sure I could do this.

Only a brief moment, though.

Because in one singular moment in time, that delight was eclipsed by pain. Sharp pain, potentially skin splitting.

He bit me.

Teeth sunk into skin, viscous and full of claim.

John fucking bit me.

I yelped out, tried to jerk away, not caring if he tore the flesh off my body. Would be better to lose skin than be cannibalized by a lover.

John wrapped his around me, splayed his hands against my back, overcome by a sudden strength, and pulled me toward him.

“John, let go of me,” I cried out, pushing on his shoulders.

His mouth finally released the patch of skin he’d suckled. He growled. Something. Words I didn’t know, could not hear, did not care about.

I just wanted him to let go.

Something was coursing through him that reversed all the lethargy, something that propelled his strength to a level I’d never known and didn’t know he was capable of. Before I could squirm out of his grasp, John pulled me off my feet and rolled himself over me so we were clumsily pressed together on the bed.

He dragged his mouth across my chest to another open plot of skin.

With an open palm, I pressed his forehead away from me.

He laughed, muttered a garble of my name.

My whole body was hotter than hell as I tried to wriggle myself out from under him, inching further and further onto the bed. But somehow, John’s body had transformed into a lead curtain over me, pinning me to the bed, one of my hands unceremoniously scrunched behind my back.

I could not move. 

And he had all the control.

“John, don’t,” I said through a tense whisper. I could scream. I could shout. But I wondered who would come running first. The men. Or the girls.

I couldn’t risk it being the latter. 

John’s hands slid down my thighs, moving up the fabric until he cupped my bottom and squeezed. Hard. Until it pinched.

I again tried to squirm away. “You’re hurting me!”

“Randy…” he drawled, lifting his head and smiling stupidly.

John launched himself forward, toward my mouth, his hardened erection grinding into my belly, painful from the poor angle.

His teeth gnashed into my lips. I tasted metal in my mouth, blood drawn from a split lip.

I had only a moment to think.

One of us would be the villain in the morning. And I couldn’t bear for it to be John.

I forced my hand onto his chin, cupping it as hard as I could, then pressed him back away from me, enough that he couldn’t snag another kiss.

Our eyes met for a split second and I nearly lost my bravado.

I couldn’t live with myself if I did, though. That’s what I decided in that moment.

I released his chin, wound my open palm back, and slapped him hard in the side of his face, my palm connecting with his cheek and part of his upper lip, and my fingers clipping his nose.

He howled in pain, retreating back onto his knees.

I was released from the vise of his body and yet I felt as though I was moving through molasses as I dragged myself back across the bed to the opposite edge.

John’s hand covered his face, the wince still settled over his eyes.

I waited. A moment. Another. Praying he would find reality again.

Finally, he withdrew his hand to reveal a streak of cherry red blood pouring from his nose and down his chin. Quite literally dripping. Already a few dots blotted the fabric of the bedspread.

I didn’t know I had that kind of strength in me.

John was at a loss for words. Nonplussed, of course, by the mess. But his eyes were filled with that same distress he met me with when he was laid up in the back of the car, jerking back and forth, full of new tears. “I…” he started.

“I told you to stop,” I said icily. “I told you not to.”

He looked down at the bedspread spattered in his blood. It was a lot of blood, enough to give me cause to worry. Except I couldn’t.

Not with terror gripping my body.

What do you do when the man you know shows you the monster you didn’t think existed in him?

John folded his lips together, blood smearing through the creases. “Mm. Mmm.”

I would not, could not sit here and be called his wife’s name. Not after he nearly had the gall to take from me.

I tore up from the bed without another word. The floor traveled beneath my feet, something in control of my body I had never known before, until I had my hand on the cool door knob. It settled my temperature just enough to come back to reality.

“No, no, no,” John was moaning. Movement. Footsteps. “Don’t go. Don’t go.”

I threw open the door and turned to slam it behind me, getting one last glimpse of John to my horror.

His blue eyes were alert to the point I thought they might fall right out of his head. His hair mussed. His face…bloodied. And the fresh nightshirt looked like a smock he’d worn to butcher a pig.

And he was coming toward me.

I did not wait.

I shut it with all my might and held tight to the knob. It jerked and jittered in my hand, scraping my skin. But I didn’t care. The animal was to stay inside the cage. That was my only goal.

John put up a good fight, clawing at the door, desperate to pull it open. On more than one occasion, he managed to pull hard enough to get an inch or two of space for his fingers to slip through. If he could just wrench the door open, he could pull me back inside.

I leaned back, all my weight going into keeping the door shut, and tucked my head between my biceps, praying he’d give up.

Over my heart pounding in my ears came his sounds. “Please, please, please let me out. Please don’t leave me alone.”

A despondent cry shuddered through the door, so loud it vibrated the door knob. A thud against the wood. No doubt the weight of his body giving up. Giving in. The inching slide of his form to the floor. The repetition of the word “please” until it was shrouded by tearful sobs.

I fell to my knees in front of the door, my hand still on the door knob in case I needed to tame the beast again.

John was only an inch away. Weeping.

Not for me.

Not even because of me.

It was all for her.

All the same, I leant my head against the door and listened to him weep, held vigil. I didn’t have vespers for the mass, but I remained there all the same though I could still feel his fingers dimpling my thighs though I’d said “don’t”.

“What did I do wrong? What did I do? Why did you leave?”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated over and over to every question until eventually not a single question was left.

All that remained was soft, hollow breathing on the other side of the door.

"Go to bed, John," I said hoarsely, trying to smile so my voice sounded soothing. "It will all be better in the morning. Alright?"

There was no answer.

"John?"

Nothing. I thanked the lord he was probably asleep.

I dropped my hand from the door knob. My muscles and bones ached from keeping the position for so long.

“Julia.”

I jumped at the sound of the small voice. I turned to find Tamara in the hallway outside her door, her ruddy hair all askew.

“What’s wrong? Why are you up?”

She rolled her hands in the front of her nightgown. “What’s going on?”

I forced a smile. “Nothi—”

Something thumped against the door to the bedroom. Someone. A final rallying cry.

I grabbed the door knob again just to be sure.

“Who’s in there?” Tamara asked, her eyes widening with fear.

“No one,” I said without thinking. “Don’t…worry, alright?”

Children know more than you give them credit for. They are also children. And sometimes, though it hurts, the children must be lied to.

“Go back to bed,” I said. “Everything is fine.”

Though the hallway was dim, I could see her eyebrows knit together. Her eyes flicked from me to the door and back again. Then, she nodded and did as she was told, disappearing into the other room in an instant.

I sat with my back to the door and closed my eyes. It had started with a drunken promise. One that might break my heart, yes, but a break so minor compared to this.

Lifting a hand to my chest, I carefully slid my fingers along the inflamed bite mark.

The depressions made by his teeth remained.

tag list: @jimmys-zeppelin, @kari-12-10, @grxtsch, @ritacaroline, @kyunisixx, @salixfragilis, @jimmypages, @dollyvandal, @cassiana-on-dark-side, @faisonsunreve, @sastrugie, @seventieswhore, @mayspringcome, @barrettavenue, @foreverandadaydarling, @glimmerofsanity, @montereypopgroupie, @lzep, @jimmysdragonsuit13, @n0quart3r, @larsgoingtomars, @paginate54, @leveeisbreaking, @callmethehunter (let me know if you’d like to be added 💋)

[acciocriativity]

Flower Shower - part of the Soulmate series

Pairing: soulmate! George Weasley x soulmate! reader

Genre: hurt/comfort

Warnings/tags: scars/flowers as a soulmate mark; small injuries; domestic fluff; little Fred in there (alive)

WC: 4,2 k

Harry Potter Masterlist

Worth The Pain - Harry Potter - part of the Soulmate series

The cake in front of me is long forgotten.

I touched the skin behind my left ear while those innocent memories drowned me, the days when I would spend hours in front of the mirror admiring the pretty flowers I’ve gotten that week or when I’d play with the boys in my neighborhood, just to get hurt somehow and give my soulmate some flowers too. I can’t feel it, but I know the white lily is there, right where my soulmate has a scar.

“How the fuck did you manage to hurt yourself here?”, I whispered, and the candlelight oscillated. “And how I haven’t met you yet?”, this time the light was extinguished.

My phone lit up on the counter. My mom’s name at the top.

Did you get it?

I could hear her voice in my head, excited about my reaction and partly worried if I didn’t receive my birthday present yet, but I couldn’t make myself respond this time.

Now that I’m so far from home, neither she nor my friends could come see me in person. Still, the love is on every message and phone call I got earlier that day, and I felt content, happy even. But as day turned to night, the loneliness got bigger and clearer to the point where I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay there alone, honey?”

I remembered how worried my mom was when I moved out 2 years ago.

“I won’t be alone, I have an excellent companion and right now he is offended”, I said and like on cue, Snuggles, the cat meowed to further prove my point.

That was my answer, because that was the last thing I wanted her to have on her mind. I took my time to move out, maybe more than I should, because my mother, a solo mom for her entire life, started to date and I felt like I was getting in the middle of her business. It was hard in a world of soulmates, to find someone with a dead soulmate or even rarer, without one at all, like her.

She was always grateful I wasn’t like that and for a long time, I knew that was where her biggest source of happiness came from, but soon that turned into nervousness as time went by and I couldn’t find my soulmate.

I went through life watching my friends’ worlds change as they grew, their soulmate marks appeared and eventually, when they met the one. I watched their happiness with a big smile on my face, and how could I not? It was wonderful to see how the magic happened, how the connection attracted them to each other and how their new life as a couple started. While all that happened, the flowers on my skin appeared one by one, sometimes huge enough to cover my arm length, other times so tiny I didn’t even know it was there, sometimes on my arms, legs, thighs, and back. I might have more than 40 now, but I can’t be so sure, since I don’t search for them anymore.

My soulmate has to be the clumsiest person on earth, there’s no other possibility and most days I wonder how they are even alive at this point, then I get another visible flower and a weight is lifted from my shoulders, because they are, indeed, alive.

“You better be waiting for me”, I whisper as if they could hear me somehow.

Suddenly I felt a fluffy thing creeping between my legs and I heard an angry, high-pitched meow.

“Of course I didn’t forget about you”, I cooed and held him up in my arms, near my chest.

Another offended meow.

“An attitude that you have there, I see”, I said and scratched behind his ears with a small smile on my face.

He purred while I walked us to my room. The gift box sat on the couch and the decorations I put up earlier were still on the walls, since I didn’t have energy to take those down. “We both are in need of some cuddles.”

For the rest of the night Snuggles kept me distracted, so much so that I could barely focus on the TV show I put on, because he would get up suddenly, climb me and purr so loud as if I wasn’t petting him already, and he would only stop if my pace was of his liking, but I couldn’t complain because I would do anything for him and the worst part is, he knows that.

I didn’t even realize, but I slept with the biggest smile on my face that night, and I have that smart cat to thank for that, maybe smarter than I could even imagine.

The very next day, I was seated at the same chair next to the same counter I was about to cry last night, flabbergasted. My hands clutching the phone I forgot to take with me last night.

“Mom, are you sure this is not some sort of joke?”

It was 7 a.m for goodness’ sake, way too early for that nonsense, it was what the rational part of my brain screamed. Yet, my mother wasn’t a fan of pranks, in fact, she hated them more than anything in this world and that’s the only reason why I was still listening in the first place, that and all the 35 messages and 4 missing phone calls I woke up to.

“There’s an owl staring at me through the window, when have you seen an owl here?”

I took a deep breath.

“So what do I have to do with that?”

I gave myself grace to eat as much of the cake as I wanted for breakfast, yet my plate was untouched, and I didn’t even feel like eating anymore.

“It says in the letter that Emmy needs to go buy her… things in London, and you know I would ne—

“I know you wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, I’ll go with her”, I interrupted her.

Why did I even agree with that? If it was true, I wanted, no, I needed to see with my own eyes and if it wasn’t, then Stephen wouldn’t need to take a day off just to come here.

She seemed relieved after this.

“Thank you, I didn’t want to put you in the middle of this chaos, I just… I want to help her out.”

“I know, mom, Stephen couldn’t take a day off? How’s she doing now?”

I put the phone on speaker while I made my daily coffee, which I needed more than anything now, all while Snuggles observed everything laid on the floor in front of the fridge.

“No, he already spent his days off last month because Emmy was sick”, she said and sighed. “Her grandma also was a witch apparently, he didn’t know she would be one too, because her mother isn’t, but she was excited by what he told me this morning, she is excited to find out more about this magical world.”

“I think this is like the dream of every little girl, isn’t it?”

She chuckled, and her voice got quieter, but the connection got better a second later.

“What was that, mom?”

“It’s just, this seems like a fever dream or something.”

She whispered, and I heard incoherent noises on her side of the line.

“Being honest, this isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve heard, the internet is 10x crazier than that.”

She didn’t seem upset at Stephen for hiding this for a whole year, but maybe she didn’t want to talk about it with me or with anyone that is.

She didn’t say anything, and for a moment I’m not sure if she heard it.

“Can you send a photo of the letter?”, I said.

“I’ll send you later, but the classes are supposed to start two weeks from now, so the faster you can take her there, the better.”

“Tell Stephen to get a train ticket for Saturday morning, she’ll be home before dinner time.”

And that’s how I ended up in a dirty and creepy shop called Leaky Cauldron, but Stephen was clear, that was the right place.

“Keep closer to me, okay? We don’t know what kind of people come to a place like this”, I whispered, and she nodded.

With her hands gripping mine, we got in, and it was better than I thought it would be.

For some reason, there were a lot of people there, something I’d never guess from the front alone.

“Look”, Emmy walked in front of me, pulling my hands.

I could see the door we were supposed to find at the very back wall.

The constant chat and movement inside a dead establishment was a shocking contrast. The people inside were… peculiar to say the least, their clothing the first thing I’ve noticed, the capes and the long dark old-fashioned dresses.

She didn’t even fathom all of that, while she walked through the crowd. Her tiny body did little in actually creating space for us, something that I ended up doing.

I could feel the staring as we walked closer to the door, yet the chatting only grew and some started to whisper. It was quite obvious we didn’t belong, nor should a child be inside a bar, nonetheless nobody stopped us. After we got out, the voices stayed behind, and we found another dirty and suspicious place.

“So that’s the wall?”, I said, not amused.

There was trash all over the ground, and I’m sure a rat family lived around those garbage cans.

Emmy went ahead and, as her father said, counted the stones, so no mistakes would be made. Not even 5 seconds later, she pressed one of them. Part of me still waited for nothing to happen, then a camera would appear out of the corner and all of that would be some sort of elaborate joke. But the stones seemed to come to life and, together and synchronized, jumped to the sides until a thin passage appeared right in front of us.

I couldn’t move.

Emmy clapped, elated, as she could barely stay still. “Grandma told us all about this, she said there is an ice cream shop that’s really good and a place with the best cakes in the entire world”, she said it fast and again, pulled me through it.

A second later, the passage closed.

This isn’t a fever dream after all. 

We walked hand in hand through the tiniest space we could find. The traffic in rush hour couldn’t compare to the amount of people gathered there. It seemed like all the witches in London decided to buy their things that day. Huge families and lonely kids walked through us, all different from one another somehow. The buildings were the weirdest, the shapes were all unique and seemed some sort of postmodernism, yet the appearance was… vintage.

“We need to change the money, come on”, I said as she stopped every 15 seconds to stare at something or someone. 

The bank was the fanciest and scariest place I’ve ever been to. It wasn’t on my list to be judged by elves that day, that wasn’t something Stephen prepared me for, but now I could die with something extra special on it. 

Somehow, I thought it would be easier to help a child get school material, but I could feel the headache coming from a mile away after the first 30 minutes. 

“There’s way too many people in there”, I said as we waited outside the last store we were supposed to go in. 

The door was barely closed, as people fought to go in and some to come out. I could see clearly through the shop window, bodies were pressed together and pressed on the glass too. She needed 7 books for this year and I needed to come with a plan to get it before 3 o’clock, or she would be late to take her train back home. 

“Can we wait a bit?”, she said, with a horrified expression. 

“Let’s find a quieter place to stay.”

We walked further down, but there wasn’t any place to sit and there was still a dense crowd. I felt Emmy pulling me towards the weirdest shop of them all. A giant… doll stuck through the high shop window.

“Emmy, there’s too many people in there too.”

It was the opposite of a quiet place. Most of the people coming in and out were kids her age or older with bags and bags full of stuff and a permanent smile on their faces. There was so much noise inside I could hear from far away, but it didn’t bother me at all. I feel at peace there, it was a good atmosphere to be close to, I would give the owners that.

“Dad let me choose whatever I wanted the most to buy, look”, she exclaimed and pulled me closer to the display.

There was so much variety of different colorful boxes and bottles, but the names didn’t give me a single clue of what anything could be, still it was enough for Emmy, and we went inside to “just take a look”, as she said.

“There’s plushies”, she released my hand and ran to the display.

I tried to run after her, but then my legs stopped all of a sudden, even though I didn’t want to. My heart dropped to my stomach and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I leaned on one of the shelves, while people passed through me as if I wasn’t even there.

I could see Emmy clearly, someone was saying something to her and that same someone picked one of the plushies, but it didn’t seem like one at all, it seemed alive. My eyes never left her as I tried to get it together.

Breath in, breath out. Breat—

It wasn’t working.

Emmy waved at me and I gestured for her to come closer, as I didn’t feel like I could move at that moment. I saw her excited expression turn to worry as she came to me carrying one of the pink fluffy things.

“What is it? Are you okay? Headache?”, she took one of my hands as I took a deep breath.

“I fe—

We heard loud gasps and screams.

There was a big commotion happening upstairs as more and more people turned to see what was going on. I could barely see a circle of people, while someone was holding someone else upright.

“Let’s go, Emmy”, I took her hand, and we walked side by side.

I thought for a moment that I was leaving, instead, I walked up to the middle of that hurricane with a will I didn’t know I had, nor the reason for it. Still, every step I took felt right, felt like something more than just being nosy.

Those two people walked down the stairs and the customers made way for them and by the middle of the staircase, I could see their faces. One of them seemed hurt, could barely walk alone, his hands were full of white powder and the right one held the left one tightly, I felt like I was the one hurting.

When they reached the end of the stairs, we were less than 3 feet away.

They passed us and went to the back of the shop, while I stayed still. He had a rose on his collarbone, and I touched the fading scar I forgot about. 

I wanted to follow them, to see if he was alright, to know if there was a way of helping him.

“You got another!”, Emmy held up my right hand.

The borderline of a tiny white rose appeared in a slow motion on my pinky, as if it was drawn handmade by someone, who didn’t want to mess it up. The color was intense, and I felt like it was a real one if I turned to the right angle. Slowly, one by one, the only black-and-gray painted flowers turned to bright-colored ones. It was a sea of light blue orchids and lavender daisies on my arms and white roses and sunflowers on my hands.

Emmy gasped, and I remember to smile like an idiot.

“Go, you have to go and see him”, she poked me in the ribs and pushed me to the direction they went.

“Can yo—”

“Of course I’ll wait, go, go”, she was smiling big and even if I couldn’t see myself, I knew I was smiling just as big. 

I went up to the balcony, then looked around and as soon as I realized no one was paying attention to me, I walked to the back door, but before I could reach the handle, the door opened and he was right in front of me.

My eyes couldn’t leave the now pink rose right below his right shoulder, the one place I didn’t expect to be hurt at while playing around, yet I did so many years ago.

“Good, you don’t have that scar anymore”, he whispered, and I felt goosebumps on my skin.

I looked up to him and his eyes were on my collarbone. Heat crawled up through my body as we made eye contact, I felt breathless yet so energized. The air around us changed, something was pulling me towards him and I could barely hold myself together.

A second later, he hugged me and it was like a weight got off my shoulders.

“Where have you been?”, he asked, and his face was hidden in my hair.

We got as close as possible, but still didn’t feel enough and maybe never would.

“Way too far from here”, I whispered back.

I closed my eyes for a moment and I heard his heartbeat. It was real, he really was with me at that moment and I couldn’t believe it.

“I hate to interrupt a happy couple, but you two are scaring the clients away. At least take her inside, George ”, someone said behind him.

George, that’s his name.

He turned to him, one of his eyebrows raised and lips pressed into a thin line, but his hands didn’t leave my waist. It was his twin, who seemed to be having way too much fun with the situation. The smile was wide on his face and his eyes almost disappeared, yet George wasn’t budging.

“Well, then they are welcome to leave, because I’m not about to hide my love”, he said, and hugged me even tighter.

I hid from the prying eyes on his shoulders.

It was true that people were watching us, and maybe a clever pair of eyes caught our flowers, because a new commotion started, but a bit more discreet than the last.

“…at it, it is so beautiful” “…so, aren’t they cute?”

“Can we go somewhere else?”, I whispered, the redness clear on my face.

“Of course we can, love.”

He let me go, and I noticed how hard that was for him. The moment he took a step away from me, I felt like a part of me stayed with him too.

“I live upstairs”, he said and took my hand and pulled me with him as I looked for Emmy.

“Oh, I came with my step sister and I don’t feel comfortable letting her alone…”, I said as I looked at Emmy and gestured for her to come closer.

“Of course she can come too, did you come in the shop because of her?”, he saw the huge bag Emmy was carrying and the new friend on her shoulder as she came closer.

I nodded.

Emmy looked at us with a Cheshire smile and I was surprised she didn’t say a thing, until I realized she was busy matchmaking the flowers on our skin.

“I have a lot to thank you for, miss”, George said with that same smile on his face.

“It’s true, you two met because of me, soo… how about a payment for that?”, she whispered as her face came a little bit closer.

I watched with a big smile on my face as he laughed so hard he leaned back a bit.

“What can I say… she deserves it, after all, she brought me my soulmate”, he smiled at me and I felt all of the butterflies.

So that’s how it feels like to feel special when your soulmate does nothing more than look at you?

“You don’t have to, you know”, I whispered to him.

“I know, but I want to, besides”, he said and looked over to her. “You’re a smart one, it reminds me of my sister when she was that age”.

“Do you also have a sister?”, I asked, quite surprised as an only child myself.

“Oh, love, I have a lot of them, but we can talk over that upstairs”

“Can I stay? I want to look over the shop, please?”, she said as she pulled her biggest trick, the puppy dog eyes as she looked at me, without blinking.

“I-”

“Fred can look over her”.

“Are you sure? There’s a lot of people here”.

“We have more people working today, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a little special tour”, he said with a smile and ran up to his brother as Emmy squealed.

“It’s getting better and better, you have a good one”, Emmy said to me, her eyes shining in delight.

“Yeah, I think so”.

It did get better for her, because she got that Pygmy Puff for free and a whole beginning school-kit as well, whatever that meant. It was an easy trade, since she got me my soulmate that day and George insisted on going home with me after work hours.

“You saw my world for the first time, it’s fair I see yours, right?”, that was his argument, a valid one.

It surprised me how he never got curious enough to explore it before on his own, but as he told me a bit about the latest years of the Wizarding world, a lot of things started to make sense, including that.

“Did you know it was possible?”, I whispered to him as we cuddled on my sofa.

"I heard about it, but it is rare, I’ve never seen anyone with a soulmate muggle”, his arms held me tighter against his body, our legs intertwined.

“A soulmate what? That doesn’t sound good”, I said and raised my head off his shoulder, looking up to his shining eyes.

“It’s how we call who doesn’t have magical powers, love”, he said softly and his thumb caressed my left cheek and jaw.

He leaned in and kissed me again. We both couldn’t hold in the smiles, too lost in our little bubble to pay any mind to the TV or my cat, who wasn’t there a second ago, but chose to silently observe everything, sat on the floor on the darker corner of the room.

“Love?”, he whispered near my ear.

“Hm?”

“How did you get him again?”, he asked and I noticed him staring at Snuggles, who was quieter than I’ve ever seen before.

“He was alone in the streets, but I don’t really remember when we adopted him, why?”, I asked as I played with his long fingers

“He reminded me of a cat I’ve seen before”.

“Do you know what the species is called? I’ve never seen one like him”, I looked over at him with a fond smile. “He isn’t a fan of new people, but he’s not that shy most of the time”.

“I’ll search it up, but I’m almost sure Emmy is not your first contact with the Wizarding World”

“How, do you have magical cats or something?”, I looked up to him, who grinned wide at me.

I sighed.

“Guess I have some magic powers after all, I’m great at finding hurt, lonely and orange fluffy heads wandering around”

“Did you just call me fluffy head?”, the disapproval and disgust clear in his voice.

“What can I say, honey, you do need a hairbrush right now”, I laughed as I tried to conceal his messy hair.

“You do not dare to touch me after insulting me like that, woman”, he said with a dramatic expression of hurt and betrayal as he held my wrist away from his head.

“But you’re so adorable like this, George”, I cooed at him and took his face into my hands.

“Adorable? Adorable?”, his tone higher. “I- You better stop being so cute, I can’t handle it”, he said as he giggled and hid his face on my shoulder.

Did I just break him?

In these 5 hours we’ve been together, he carried himself with an impressive confidence, flirtier as time passed, something I wanted to learn from him, but right now, it seems like I cracked the code.

I could see a tint of red on his cheeks and a proud smile appeared on my face.

“What? Can’t I call you cute? Hm? Adorable?”

He mumbled something against my skin, and I felt goosebumps, then his smile against my neck.

“Do you like that, love?”

The shyness seemed to evaporate from him in the blink of an eye and I knew that that would be the night I’d find out what happened when you tease George Weasley.