#and now he gets to go about life with his new family and his new wife (who probably doesn’t even know this and he’s just lying to her)

[mysticalpruneflapshepherd]

It's beautiful!

This gives the amazing chance to create even more misunderstandings when suddenly Sqq(Sy) gets hit with another bad cultivation deviation or whatever that was only to wake up as Sj.

Then Sy is thrust into this demon's body!

Imagine the confusion! The panic! The heartbreak!

Then Sy's confusion and his inevitable grief, because what if he's just been thrust into another world? Just now when he was getting used to being happy?

Then his panic is put aside, because he recognized the face of the demon he's possessing. He remembers this plot! It was something about a demon looking too much like someone the Demon Emperor hated, who also had a hot sister that fell into the royal harem, so therefore was disposed of rather fast.

It's the moment Sy finds that this demon sister of this body has a similar character to his real meimei. He takes to the big brother role real fast here. He grows attached to this family he's never met but has been hearing so much about from his new meimei. So much, that for a moment he forgets that Binghe could be looking for him.

Then Sj who is confused beyond confusion and retaliates against Binghe and Yqy like a feral cat. Lqg managed to help calm him down based barely on his strange calm attitude toward him.

Imagine a Binghe who decides to go to the demon world to do some work so he didn't do something drastic that he'd regret. Going for some good ol' land conquering to relieve some stress and accidentally injuring himself because of his distraction with the situation.

Now imagine Sy's new meimei finding this handsome young man, all beat and bloody and taking him home to have her lovely, and suddenly smarter, brother to help her look after this man.

Sy who tries his best to slowly let Binghe know that it's him without risking being beheaded for saying something outrageous. And Binghe looking at this man and being like, do I know you? You're as nice as the love of my life? Am I seeing things? I can't betray my love for shizun but there's something about this man....

Any way, if someone wants to keep adding, tag me please. I wanna see where this goes ✨🔻✨

Hear my random thought, imagine that the PIDW fandom actually start noticing the weirdo called Peerless Cucumber and they find his comments absolutely hilarious, like “this dude is crazy but hes damn funny too” and they just start teasing him with things like “what are you, Luo Binghe’s wife to defend him like this?” until someone actually makes a full 20.000 word fanfiction about peerless cucumber dying and reincarnating in PIDW and ending up rizzing up Luo Binghe, convincing him to leave his harem for him and they marry and live happily ever after and everyone finds this EVEN MORE HILARIOUS and more people start writing fanfic about it.

Before PIDW ends, the ship tag is one of the top 5 of the fandom in ao3 and they have tons of fanart and even an animation video on youtube that has hundreds of thousands of views and obviously airplane had seen it, and he found it hilarious too.

So when he finished PIDW he made some specials and he decided to be the funniest man ever and write one where peerless cucumber died and reincarnated in a male demon whom happened to be working close to Luo Binghe, and that was the first and last gay chapter of PIDW.

The fandom EXPLODED when they read this and the ship tag quickly became number 1 on the fandom in ao3, fanfiction.net, wattpad and tumblr.

Sadly, peerless cucumber stopped his activities on social media as soon as the final chapter of PIDW dropped, wonder what happened to that guy...

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

it is currently 3am, no one can judge me for this thanks goodbye

[willowsnook]

The Ultimate Crossover

quinn hughes x stroll!reader

——————————————————-

After a childhood in the spotlight, and befriending one of the most popular athletes while you were in college, your goal for your life when you moved to Vancouver was to fly under the radar. So far, you were killing it.

You’d been on the athletic training staff for the Canucks for six months now and not one person had brought up your family or a certain quarterback that still called you once a week to chat. Here you were just a normal girl with a normal job.

The guys had all been really nice to you and you loved Vancouver. You grew up in Montreal and as much as you loved being in the US for college, you wanted to be back in Canada to start the rest of your life. You had a couple of childhood friends who had moved to Vancouver after high school so you reconnected with them and were integrated into their friend group.

That friend group is who you were with now, sitting in a VIP section of a new club that had just opened. Your last name carried a lot of weight so you ended up being invited to opening weekend and asked to bring as many friends as you wanted.

It had never crossed your mind that you could see anyone from work so you were surprised when you heard your name being called as you were heading to the bathroom. Turning, you saw two Canucks’s players, staring at you like they were mesmerized.

“Hi boys,” you said tipsily. Elias was the first to meet your eyes, Quinn was still in a trance looking at the way your short, tight, dress hit all of your curves perfectly. You flushed under his stare, feeling naked.

Not many guys could catch your attention these days, especially ones that were famous, but there was something about Quinn Hughes. It had to be his quiet nature, he was a mystery to you. He was always polite to you when you worked on him, almost too polite to where it was frustrating. A lot of the other guys, Petey included, treated you like a friend. With Quinn it was all business.

“You look hot,” Petey said bluntly and you laughed as Quinn elbowed him in the side.

“Thanks Petey,” you said sweetly. “When did you guys get here?”

”We just did,” Petey said. “Are you in a VIP section? I thought I saw you come out of one.”

“Yeah,” you said nodding to your friends and both the boys looked over. Petey gave you a confused look.

“How’d you manage that section? We had to beg to get a spot this weekend,” Petey said and you looked away, trying to figure out something to say. “You must know someone important.”

”Yeah, something like that,” you muttered before looking towards the bathroom. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Your best friend Anna was waiting for you when you got back, an eyebrow raised.

“Can I just say I’m very jealous that you get to work with men that look like that?” She said and you laughed. You followed her gaze to where a group of Canucks players were, settling on Quinn who was nursing a drink and listening intently to something Petey was saying.

“Yeah yeah,” you said back to her. “Let’s dance please.”

Anna called over a couple of other friends and you all made it to the dance floor. It felt good to stop thinking about work and other life things and just let go. By the end of the night you were stumbling out, after telling your friends goodbye. Standing on the sidewalk outside, you shivered as you waited for your Uber to pull up. A jacket was placed over your shoulders and you held it close to you, turning to its owner.

“Little cold for that outfit,” Quinn commented, looking unbothered without his jacket; his long sleeve quarterzip clung to his body.

“It was hot inside,” you said with a slight slur, stumbling as you turned to face him completely. His arms shot out to steady you, an amused smile on his face.

“Easy there,” he said.

“I feel like you don’t like me,” you said, the alcohol in your system deciding this was a great time to bring it up. His eyebrows furrowed at your words, lips turning into a frown.

“Why do you think that?” He asked and you sighed dramatically, moving your hands to his shoulders as you looked at him.

“Everyone jokes around with me besides you,” you complained. “Yeah you’re friendly but you are literally one second away from calling me ma’am. Everyone loves me but you.”

Quinn was amused by the pout on your face as you confessed this to him. His hands were resting gently on your waist and he allowed himself to enjoy it for a moment before disconnecting from you.

“I’m the captain y/n,” he said. “That means I have to set a good example for the team. Part of that example is having professional relationships with the staff, no matter how attractive a particular staff member might be.”

You blushed at his words but felt a wave of giddiness, “so you do think I’m attractive.”

Quinn’s cheeks tinted pink and you smiled wider.

“It’s okay Quinny, I won’t tell anyone,” you said cheerfully. “I guess I can live with this, it’s refreshing to have someone treat me like a normal person anyways.”

“What does that mean?” Quinn asked and you were saved by the bell: your Uber pulled up right as he asked. You ignored his question and pressed your lips to his cheek before climbing into the car.

—————————————————

Quinn was itching to get back on the ice; this hand injury business was driving him insane. In his mind, he was ready to be cleared, but the head athletic trainer disagreed. So here he was yet again, in the training room waiting to get evaluated.

“Hey Quinn, sorry I’m late,” you said, greeting him as you neared the table he was on. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, expecting to see your boss.

“Where’s Roman?” He asked.

“He’s in a meeting, so you are stuck with me,” you said with a teasing smile. After washing your hands you turned back to him, reaching out for him to put his hand in yours. Losing yourself in concentration as you looked him over, you didn’t notice how his breath hitched as you got into his space.

Your vanilla perfume smelled like heaven to Quinn and he was trying to look anywhere else besides at you. You bit your lip as you focused and Quinn wondered what they would feel like against his own lips. What would your hands feel like on other parts of him? He was lost in thought and flinched when you moved one of his fingers.

“Fuck,” he snapped and you smiled apologetically at him.

“I’m sorry, just trying to get an idea of the mobility right now.”

“I want to play,” he said, and you looked him in the eye, your heart sinking at the sad look he was giving you.

“I know, it is getting better,” you said and he deflated. “Maybe we can find some kind of brace that would work.”

“How long would that take?”

“Let me talk to Roman about it okay?” You said and he nodded but you could tell something else was going on. “It’s normal to want to get back immediately, but that’s why I’m here, to protect you.”

“I know,” he said, offering you a small smile. “The Petey/JT thing is getting worse and I feel like I’m not making an impact there and now I’m not on the ice.”

“They’re grown men, Quinn,” you said nonchalantly. “Maybe all you need to do is lock them in a room and not let them out until they figure it out.”

“Not a bad idea, thanks,” he said.

“I’m full of them,” you said cheerfully, grabbing your things. Quinn watched you leave, noticing that he was starting to get more flustered everytime he was around you.

“What’s on your mind Huggy?” Petey called out as Quinn walked back into the locker room. He was rubbing at his hand absentmindedly which didn’t go unnoticed by his teammate. “Have it looked at again?”

“Yeah, y/n thinks it won’t be long now,” he muttered, a slight pink tint covering his cheeks at the mention of you which made Petey grin.

“So y/n saw you,” he said casually.

“That’s her job,” Quinn replied, not giving in to where he knew Petey was going with this.

“She looked good the other night, don’t ya think?” Petey pressed and Quinn shot him a look.

“No fraternizing with Canucks employees,” Quinn recited from the HR handbook.

“Whatever man, don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were looking at her the other night.”

————later that night———————-

The Canucks ended up pulling off a good win and the locker room was buzzing. Sometimes when other athletes or celebs attended the game they came to hang out afterwards, especially if it was a win. So Quinn wasn’t surprised to see some NFL players hanging around, especially since the ones there now weren’t in the playoffs.

“Quinn, meet Joe,” Petey said and Quinn turned to see Joe Burrow standing there. They shook hands in greeting, chatting a little bit about the Bengals season and mutual friends they had. Joe hung around until Quinn was leaving, following him out.

“Are you coming out with us?” Quinn asked and Joe shook his head.

“I’m actually here to surprise my friend,” he said and Quinn nodded as they walked.

“Does she work for the Canucks?” He asked.

“Yeah, she’s an athletic trainer,” Joe said and Quinn stopped; there was only one female on the athletic training staff.

“Y/n?” Quinn asked and Joe’s eyes lit up.

“Yeah, do you know where I can find her?”

Quinn felt a weird sense of irritation at Joe’s excitement to see you and it took everything in him to not say no and leave him. He told Joe to follow him, leading them to the athletic training offices where he knew you’d be wrapping up.

“Joey!” He heard you squeal as you saw Joe.

“Hi angel,” Joe said, holding his arms out for you to jump into. You held him tight, tears filling your eyes as you took him in. He gave you a lazy grin, wiping one that had escaped down your cheek.

“Tears for me?” He joked and you hit him.

“Happy tears, I’ve missed you,” you said. You hadn’t seen him since the summer and it had been hard. You were glued to each other’s side in college and you followed him to Cincinnati so when you left, you both suffered a little bit.

Quinn was watching the interaction with a sour taste in his mouth. He did not like seeing another man holding you and before he could stop himself he stepped forward.

“Can you look at my hand y/n?” He asked randomly and you gave him a confused look.

“You didn’t play?”

“Someone bumped into me,” he mumbled, embarrassed but you didn’t notice, just sighing as you stepped away from Joe.

“Yeah let’s see it captain,” you said beckoning him into the training room. You turned to Joe, “wait for me?”

“Of course, I’ll be chilling by the locker room,” he told you and you smiled.

Quinn hopped up on the table and you looked over his hand.

“It literally looks the same,” you said looking up at him.

“It hurts,” he countered and you rolled your eyes. You grabbed a bottle of lotion and started to lightly massage around the sensitive areas.

“So how do you know Joe?” Quinn asked, trying to be casual.

“We went to college together,” you replied, not looking up. “I interned with the athletic training department my senior year and worked with him a bit and we just hit it off.”

“So you’re just friends?” He asked and your head snapped up, a small smirk on your lips.

“Why, jealous?” You asked and he scoffed, looking away. “Is that why you dragged me in here to look at your hand that I literally looked at earlier today?”

Quinn didn’t say anything and you smiled wider, “what happened to staying professional to be an example? What would your teammates think about you faking an injury to hang out with an athletic trainer?”

”I don’t like you,” he said pouting and you wiped the excess lotion off on your jeans.

“Mmhmm,” you said. “Let’s go captain.”

He followed you out of the room and back down the hall. Joe was talking with some other players but lit up when he saw you again.

“Ready?” He asked and you nodded.

“Not coming out with us?” Petey asked Joe who shook his head.

“Nah, we’ve got a whole season of House of Dragon to catch up on,” he said and you beamed. You said bye to the boys and left with Joe. Petey shot an amused look at Quinn.

“Not a word.”

———————————

“I’m exhausted, see you in the morning?” You asked Joe, who was sprawled out on your couch.

“Yeah, then you can tell me what’s going on with you and Quinn,” he said nonchalantly and you froze.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said lightly, cleaning off the coffee table and not making eye contact with him.

“Sure, angel,” he said. “I’ll just pretend that I didn’t notice you looking at him like he was a god.”

“I don’t look at him like that,” you snapped back and Joe grinned.

“Touchy subject?”

“We work together Joe, nothing could happen,” you said, sighing. “Plus we don’t really even know each other that well.”

“You mean he doesn’t know that he could play professional hockey for the next ten years and still not come even close to having as much money as you do?” He asked and you threw a pillow at him.

“People get weird when they know who my family is, you know that,” you said and he gave you a sad smile. Your dad had worked so incredibly hard for everything he had and you were proud of him. You wouldn’t trade your family for the world, but you had a lifetime of people only being friends with you because of your wealth so it was a touchy subject. When Lance made it to F1, it only got worse, now you had people who wanted you for your money AND access to your brother.

“But you like him,” Joe said and you sighed.

“A little, yeah,” you admitted. “I like how I can be myself around him, he’s a good listener, and the way he leads the team is attractive.”

Joe smiled at you, “I’m happy for you, y/n. Don’t get in your own way.”

————-Canadian Grand Prix——————-

It had been a few months since you had admitted your crush on Quinn to Joe but nothing had really happened. He got over his injury so you saw him less at first but as you got closer to the team, you saw him at social events a lot. The energy between the two of you had definitely been flirty but he hadn’t made any kind of move.

“It’s like he’s scared to be alone with me,” you complained to your sister Chloe, after she picked you up from the airport.

“That’s a good thing then,” your sister said. “It means he doesn’t trust himself around you.”

You rolled your eyes, “well I’m tired of it.”

“You know he’s going to be here this weekend right?” She asked and you nodded. The Canucks had a game in Montreal, and since it was the same weekend as the GP, a few players had been invited to the paddock, Quinn included.

“In the Alpine garage though, so it doesn’t matter,” you said and she smirked.

“Well I can’t wait to meet him,” she said. “Better hope he doesn’t run into Lance.”

You stopped cold, “What do you mean? How does Lance even know about him?”

“Oh it’s just come up a couple of times,” your sister said. “It’s been a while since you had an interesting crush so I was excited.”

“You are the worst,” you complained. You prayed that they wouldn’t cross paths.

Unfortunately, your wish did not come true.

Quinn and Petey were walking around the paddock when Petey stopped what appeared to be two drivers who were walking nearby.

“Esteban man, good to see you,” Petey said, dapping him up. How Petey knew all these random athletes was a mystery to Quinn.

“Hey Elias,” Esteban said. Petey introduced Quinn to Esteban and Esteban introduced the other driver. “This is Lance.”

Lance eyed Quinn curiously and Esteban caught on, laughing loudly.

“So you’re friends with y/n?” Lance asked and Quinn stiffened in surprise.

“Our athletic trainer? Yeah I guess,” he said awkwardly.

“If you ever make her cry I will end your career,” Lance said and Quinn shot Petey a confused look.

“Okay? I’m not sure how that would be any of your business, even if there was something going on,” Quinn said. Esteban looked at him in wonder before realizing what was going on.

“Oh my, he doesn’t know,” Esteban said, smirking at Lance, who was still glaring at Quinn.

“Know what?” Petey asked.

“That y/n is my sister,” Lance said and Quinn felt all the blood drain from his face. Y/n was a Stroll? The girl he had a crush on was worth billions and now her brother, her famous F1 brother, was glaring daggers at him. Petey burst out laughing at the revelation and Esteban looked incredibly amused.

Of course, this was the moment that you chose to appear, seeing the back of your brother and not who he was talking to.

“Lance!” You yelled excitedly. He turned around to face you and you frowned at the sour look on his face but when your eyes met Petey’s you had a good idea who else was there.

Quinn was frowning at you and your heart sank at the look of betrayal he was giving you.

“Hi y/n,” Lance said, pulling you in for a hug. “Met some of your friends here.”

”I can see that,” you muttered. Petey was giving you a cheeky look but Quinn wouldn’t meet your eyes. Lance launched into conversation with Esteban and Petey but both you and Quinn stayed silent. As the drivers were called off to get ready for a practice run, you stayed with Petey and Quinn.

“I’m going to head back to the garage,” Petey said and you nodded, not taking your eyes off of Quinn. He left and the two of you stood in front of each other, neither saying anything.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked, finally breaking the silence.

“I don’t know,” he admitted and you deflated. “I don’t like feeling like you were hiding something from me.”

“I wasn’t hiding it from you, it just didn’t come up,” you argued and he gave you a look. “Just because I don’t go around telling everyone who my dad is doesn’t mean I was keeping it a secret.”

Quinn let out a frustrated sigh, raking his hand through his hair.

“Is there somewhere private we can go?” He asked and you nodded. You led him to the Aston Martin garage, smiling at your brother’s team members as you entered and headed towards his drivers room. He was about to be on the track so you knew it would be open.

Shutting the door behind him, Quinn looked at you as you stood nervously before him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked softly.

“Because I liked being a normal person in your life,” you said and he tilted his head, indicating for you to go on. “I’m not a normal person Quinn. My family is worth almost $4 billion. I can’t go out with my family without being mobbed by the press. I don’t have a ton of friends, because most people that I meet just want to use me.”

“I didn’t want you to look at me differently,” you finished, your voice quiet, almost fragile. “I didn’t want you to see me as just that girl—the one with the famous family, the one who’s always surrounded by people who want something from her.”

Quinn stood still for a moment, his expression unreadable, and then he stepped closer. Slowly, almost as if testing the waters, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

“You think I’d see you that way?” His voice was soft but firm. “All I see is a woman who is smart, funny, and makes it difficult to focus. That’s still all I see when I look at you now.”

”Then why haven’t you done anything?” You asked, frustrated. “You’ve had to have known that I have feelings for you.”

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips, “HR policy.”

Groaning, you laid your head on his chest.

”You are so irritating,” you complained. “This means that you were actually jealous when Joe visited, right?”

Quinn rolled his eyes, “I didn’t like how he was looking at you.”

“He’s my best friend Quinn,” you said, looking up at him.

”I don’t have to like it,” he argued and you smirked.

“You quite literally do have to like him if you want to be with me,” you countered.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, burying his head into your shoulder as your arms wrapped around him. You sighed into his touch, happy to have finally figured this part of your life out and feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

Quinn pulled back, looking at you with an amused face.

“What?” You asked.

“This means that you are officially my sugar mama,” he teased and you snorted.

“Whatever captain,” you said and you lifted up your feet to press your lips against his. The kiss was everything you imagined it would be: soft, but filled with a lot of emotions. His hand moved down to grip your waist as the kiss deepened and your hands fiddled with the bottom of his shirt. You were just about to tug it up when the door banged open.

“Are you fucking serious right now y/n?” Lance complained. You giggled as you pulled back, shielding Quinn from your brother’s irritation.

“Sorry Lancey,” you said with a sweet smile. His eyes softened at you and he rolled his eyes, stepping away.

”You’re setting me up for failure,” Quinn murmured in your ear and you laughed.

”You set yourself up for being on the Canucks and not the Canadiens.”

[red-phantom-0]

Neglected Reader x Yandere Platonic Batfam pt 2

continuation of this au -> 🍁 , 🍁🍁🍁

- well anyways, so the reader is stuck in this expensive limbo and they're like " uhhhhh so about the fact you've been avoiding paying your taxes for the past five years -" like reader is just trying to be professional .

- Bruce ignores their comment and just gives reader a cheshire smile and is like " Don't worry about that hun right now we just want to spend time with you " like he's just trying to reassure reader and they're just there like ' WHERE IS THE NEAREST TRUSTED ADULT THIS GRANDPA IS WEIRD ???'

- reader is just awkwardly sitting there like 🧍‍♀️ meanwhile damians just staring at them , enamored . So reader just awkwardly goes on their phone and text their secretary to track their location and pick them up because they are creeped tf out.

- Bruce is trying to be smooth by making dad jokes like " simba was moving too slow so I told him to mufasa "and readers just awkwardly laughing because she doesn't want the old man to feel bad .

- it gets worse when he tries using modern slang like " Hey ( reader's name ) you're so sigma today " and literally everyone in the limbo cringes and damian tells his dad to shut up and to stop embrassing them.

- anyways y'all reach the Wayne Mansion and you try to get out of the limbo but damian literally holds onto your hand and is like " allow me the most handsome , incredible , reliable , intelligent , best looking wayne to escort you out " and readers like okay whatever because he's just a little kid what's he gonna do ???

- so yall enter in and reader is escorted to a fancy living room , so reader sits dowm and whips out their laptop - insistent on being professional and wanting to get this over with so they could go home and take a much needed nap .

- " Okay Mr.Wayne ? It's says here you owe $100, billion to the IRS -" reader starts but then Dick and Jason enters in with big smiles . " Hey sis /bro !!" They greeted them but reader looks at them confused like who the hell are these randoms .

- this makes them both sad and sulk that their adorable little sibling wasn't as joyous to see them as they were to them. In comes tim with Alfred, and the reader perks up at Alfred. " Hey Alfred how are you ? didn't know you started to work for a new family !" Reader greets him.

- everyone just sits there in shock like does reader seriously forget about them - like they know they fucked up big time by ignoring /neglecting them but like they didn't recognize their own family??

- Alfred just politely smiles at reader and is like " Mr./Mrs. (Reader's Name ) I am still working for the same family, your adopted family in fact " he clarified. Reader just stares at him in confusion because like they don't ever recall being adopted ?? Like they've been in foster care they're whole life??.

- reader is just awkwardly like " hahaha hahaha nice joke man " and dick literally dramatically falls to floor and starts sobbing about how reader doesn't love them anymore .

- reader is just like ' wtf ' because like dramatic much and also they thought Alfred was their foster parent and they were just living in a big apartment complex w another family they didn't know they were supposed to be adopted siblings .

- tim literally grabs dick by his shirt collar and picks him up . " It's very nice to meet you :> " tim greets reader. Reader responds with a poker face , " uhhh we lived in the same place for 13 years mate it's a bit late to an introduction, yeah ?" reader says with a deadpan tone.

- everyone just looks at each other awkwardly and reader gets a notification from their secretary that they were outside waiting on them . Reader sighs and gets up from the couch and shoves their laptop into their travel bag . " Alright was nice knowing yall but I gotta dip " reader says and begins to walk right out .

- everyone immediately gets up to chase after them , Damian literally clinging onto their leg, and Jason and Bruce was trying to persuade them into staying saying ' its too late to go outside ' , " it's too dangerous ' . Reader just stops and looks at them both like " yeah grandpa it's 4 pm we know it's your bed time " and walks out the mansion.

- reader walks out , boss bitch style into their own expensive sports car not before waving at them and saying " See you later in court when you get arrested for tax evasion Bruce " and with that they drive off.

- the batfam just stands there in shambles because they failed in kidnapping and convincing reader to stay with them.

[sealinredshoes]

Well, sorry @cyber-corp for saying you were joking, you WILL have so much fun learning about the terrible things going on into greek heaven ( tho it's more often called Olympus, and it's just a mount where most of the gods decided to live on)

For the detail version of my exemples, when Zeus was young and had to fight his father Kronos for the throne, he get married with a oceanid named Metis, which mean "wisdom" and "craft" who helped him win the war. But quickly after, she became pregnant. Now, here's the deal : history repeat itself in Zeus family. His father killed his grand father and himself killed his father. So before another son could come to life, he just ate his wife alive. In some versions, she then became his conscience. But the child she was bearing did not died and continued to grow inside their father. Years later, Zeus got a terrible headache that make him beg Hephaestus to cut his skull open. Hephaestus did it (we all would have, Zeus isn't really a popular guy around here) and a fully armoured adult woman got out of the head. This is how Athena, goddess of wisdom, war strategy and craftsmanship came to life.

After this accident with Metis, Zeus managed to trick his sister Hera into marrying him in two quick step : 1. Make her swear to marry him if she told him "I love you" 2. Turn himself into a cute sparrow, became Hera's pet bird for some time and wait for her to say she love her pet.

As for Dionysos, he was once known as Zagreus, son of Zeus and Persephone (that the guy we can play in the Hades game) (also Persephone is Zeus daughter) but ventured too far from home and get killed and then eaten. Zeus managed to save the heart of his son, put it inside the belly of his curent mistress, who ALSO died, so he put the child in his leg and waited nine months for the child to get out, this time under the name of Dionysos. Therefore, Dionysos is not just the god of wine but also very close to the concept of death and rebirth, leaving an old identity behind and starting a new life.

Hope it help with your brand new journey !

this website’s easy watch. *dangles a bunch of greek gods like keys*

[rose24207]

How my dad does it

Summary: Ji-Woo imitates her father’s Ddakji game at school, offering chocolate for wins and punches for losses, believing it’s what he would do, forcing her parents to reevaluate the lessons she’s learning from him.

Genre: Dad!Salesman, Husband!Salesman, angst, fluff

TW: None!

A/N: This idea popped up in my head while I was unloading the dishwasher btw. English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

Your husband had always been a man of contradictions. On the surface, he was charming, calm, and unassuming—a perfect husband and an attentive father. But beneath the polished smile was a man who thrived in the shadows, orchestrating games that could change lives in an instant. You knew his work wasn’t conventional—far from it.

Still, you’d chosen this life, complications and all. You loved him, even if his job often walked a fine line between thrilling and terrifying. He never brought it home, though. His line of work stayed outside your front door, and for that, you were grateful.

Or so you thought.

The phone call came just after lunch, interrupting what had been a rare moment of peace. The principal’s voice was calm but laced with tension, a tone you recognized immediately as bad news.

“Mrs. y/l/n, this is Principal Kim from Ji-Woo‘s school. We need you to come in immediately. There’s been… an incident.”

Your stomach dropped. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. But we need to discuss her behavior. It’s… unusual.”

The office was small, with beige walls and a wooden desk that felt far too large for the space. Ji-Woo sat in a chair across from the principal, her legs swinging as she hummed softly to herself. She looked perfectly content, which only made you more uneasy.

“Mrs. y/l/n,” Principal Kim greeted you, gesturing to the chair beside your daughter. “Thank you for coming.”

“What happened?” you asked, glancing between her and Ji-Woo.

The principal folded her hands on the desk, her expression unreadable. “Ji-Woo has been… conducting a game at recess.”

“A game?”

“Yes. She’s been playing Ddakji with her classmates. Do you know what that is?”

Your heart skipped a beat. Of course, you knew what it was. You’d seen your husband play it countless times—slapping paper squares against the ground, his movements quick and precise, his smile sharp and dangerous.

“It’s… a game her father likes,” you said carefully.

The principal nodded. “She’s been challenging other children to play. The winner gets a piece of chocolate.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” you said cautiously.

Principal Kim raised an eyebrow. “The loser, however, gets punched.”

You stared at her, stunned. “What?”

The principal nodded grimly. “Ji-Woo has been telling her classmates that they have to accept the rules. Win, and they get chocolate. Lose, and they get hit. According to the children, she said, and I quote, ‘That’s how my dad does it.’”

You turned to Ji-Woo, who was now examining her shoes as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

“Ji-Woo,” you said slowly, “is that true?”

She shrugged. “It’s just a game.”

“A game where you hit people?”

“Well, Daddy does it,” she said simply, as if that explained everything.

The room went silent.

The principal cleared her throat. “Mrs. y/l/n, while I understand children often mimic their parents, this behavior is concerning. We’ve spoken to the other children and their parents, and they’re understandably upset.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, your mind racing. How much had Ji-Woo seen? Your husband had always been careful about keeping his work separate from your family life. But clearly, something had slipped through the cracks.

“I’ll talk to her,” you said firmly. “This won’t happen again.”

The car ride home was awkwardly quiet. Ji-Woo sat in the back seat, her arms crossed, her expression stubborn. You didn’t say anything until you were both inside the house.

“Go to your room,” you said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

“But—”

“Now.”

She stomped off, muttering under her breath.

You let out a long sigh, leaning against the counter. You didn’t have long to gather your thoughts before the front door opened, and your husband walked in, a bag of groceries in one hand.

“Hey,” he greeted you with a smile. “How was—”

“Your daughter got in trouble at school today,” you cut him off.

He frowned, setting the bag down. “What happened?”

“She was playing Ddakji,” you said, your voice sharp.

His confusion was obvious. “Okay…?”

“And when her classmates lost, she punched them. Because, and I quote, ‘That’s how my dad does it.’”

His face froze, his usual composure slipping for a moment. “She said that?”

“Yes,” you snapped. “Apparently, she’s been watching you more closely than we thought.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Where is she now?”

“In her room. And you’re going to talk to her.”

You stood in the hallway, listening as he knocked softly on Ji-Woo’s door.

“Come in,” she said, her voice muffled.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. You waited, your heart pounding, as their conversation began.

“Ji-Woo,” he started, his tone gentle but firm. “Your mom told me what happened today.”

She didn’t respond.

“Why did you do it?” he asked.

“It’s just a game,” she mumbled.

“A game where you hurt people?”

She hesitated. “They agreed to the rules.”

He sighed, sitting down beside her. “Ji-Woo, listen to me. I know you’ve seen me play Ddakji before. But what I do… it’s not something you should copy.”

“Why not?” she asked, her voice small. “You always say I’m like you. I just wanted to be like you.”

His heart twisted. “Ji-Woo, being like me doesn’t mean you have to do everything I do. What I do isn’t always right.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and uncertain. “But you’re my dad. You’re supposed to be right.”

He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. “Sometimes, adults make mistakes too. And I made a mistake by letting you see that side of me. But from now on, I want you to focus on being kind, okay? You’re smart and strong, Ji-Woo. You don’t need to hurt people to show them that.”

She nodded slowly, her lower lip trembling. “I’m sorry.”

He pulled her into a hug, holding her close. “I know, sweetheart. And I’m proud of you for being honest. But no more hitting, okay?”

“Okay.”

Later that night, after Ji-Woo had gone to bed, you found him sitting on the couch, his head in his hands.

“I messed up,” he said quietly as you sat beside him.

“She’s six,” you reminded him. “She doesn’t fully understand what she’s doing yet. But she looks up to you, and that’s not a bad thing.”

“It is if I’m setting the wrong example,” he muttered.

You placed a hand on his knee, squeezing gently. “You’re not perfect. None of us are. But you’re a good father, and Ji-Woo knows you love her. That’s what matters most.”

He looked at you, his expression softening. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For keeping us grounded,” he said. “I’ll do better. For her. For you.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes. “We’ll do better,” you corrected.

Because no matter how complicated life got, you were in it together.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hxxi3, @same1995, @amatswimming

[antianakin]

I don't really buy into the popular idea that Anakin somehow would've been saved by being asked to look after Jedi children, that it somehow would've magically taught him how to let go in a way he couldn't have learned in canon.

For one, you say that Anakin wanted someone to love him unconditionally and have their lives revolve around him. That's only partly true. Yes, he wants someone whose life revolves around him, but he specifically wants someone who will DEFINE themselves by their relationship to him. He wants someone who will do whatever he asks when he asks it of them, he wants someone whose first and only real priority is HIM, he wants someone who will give him whatever he wants whenever he wants it. This is why he likes Palpatine so much, it's why he gets upset whenever Padme tries to tell him no. You might notice, too, that this is an INCREDIBLY unhealthy dynamic to have with ANYONE and not something that should be encouraged to have.

The other issue with this is that no Jedi children are going to be taught to have their lives revolve around their creche master. The whole POINT behind the Jedi taking in younger children and toddlers rather than older kids is that it allows them to instill their values and teachings a lot earlier, BEFORE they'd learn to become too connected to one guardian (or one SET of guardians). Jedi children are unlikely to be encouraged to see their crechemaster the same way that other children see their parents. The Jedi tend to raise children COMMUNALLY, so their younglings likely have many different people raising them from the start. They're unlikely to have one person who just becomes a de facto parent for like 10-12 kids until they reach padawan age and then they just pass them off to the next person who becomes a new de facto parent. The Jedi would be taught that the whole Order are their family, that they can rely on ANYONE among the Jedi for aid and guidance and comfort. Anakin would not be handed a small group of kids that are just now "his" for like a decade or something. I don't buy that that's how Jedi would ever work (I DO buy that that could be how Mandos work, though).

So EVEN IF we go with the idea that somehow raising a child will fulfill the part of Anakin that wants someone whose life revolves around him, he won't get that from Jedi children, who are literally being taught not to let their lives revolve around one person from the moment they're given to the Order.

For two, this completely ignores that one of Anakin's biggest motivations is that he wants to be seen as a HERO, he wants fame and glory, he wants to do grand deeds like coming back to Tatooine to free all the slaves. As you might imagine, taking care of children isn't exactly going to seem like it fulfills that desire to someone like Anakin. It just isn't. THIS desire is what keeps Anakin from just LEAVING the Jedi in order to go be with Padme. If he just gets to be Padme's trophy wife, he can't go off to play the hero. He wants the fame and glory that he believes comes with being a Jedi, he wants the adoration that he thinks he can only get as a Jedi. If he didn't care about that, he'd have just left it the moment Padme agreed to be with him (or earlier, honestly). This desire is ALSO why he's peaks during the war, it's why he's so much happier and more comfortable during wartime than any other Jedi is. During the war, the Jedi are reduced to just going out and fighting "the bad guys" and protecting "the good guys." It allows Anakin to really settle into this feeling that he's being the big grand hero he's always believed he was destined for. The other Jedi tend to see this as really really far from what being a Jedi is all ABOUT, but Anakin DOESN'T because this is what he's always wanted being a Jedi to look like. This is why, when Tarkin claims the Jedi are being too soft during battles, it's Ahsoka and Obi-Wan who push back on that idea while Anakin actually agrees with it.

For three, there is NO INDICATION that Anakin never spent time around Jedi younglings ever. In fact, there's the OPPOSITE indication in canon, that Anakin already DOES spend enough time around the younglings for them to recognize him immediately and know him by name. There's thousands of Jedi, it wouldn't have been shocking if that one little youngling in the Council chambers didn't know who Anakin was when he walked in and just recognized that he was wearing Jedi clothing. But he doesn't. He addresses Anakin BY NAME. As I mentioned earlier, the Jedi appear to raise their children communally, so it would make a lot of sense that Anakin likely DID have to spend some time with the younglings every so often. Ahsoka herself is put in charge of a group of younglings going to Ilum to get their first kyber crystal when she's only 15ish years old, despite being a padawan who is assigned to a front lines battalion in the middle of a galactic civil war. You can make a REALLY easy assumption that at bare minimum, Anakin has probably had to take at least one group of younglings to Ilum by himself. But it's much more likely that he's had to do far more than that and interact with them somewhat regularly.

For four, there's actually canonical proof that handing Anakin responsibility of a child would never have saved him. Because Anakin is canonically handed responsibility of a child and it doesn't save him. Granted the child is like 14 years old when he is given responsibility of her, but it still involves having someone who looks up to him, someone whose future depends upon him, and someone he has to learn how to let go of eventually. And look what happens when she decides to walk away from the Order, look how well he reacts to that. Look at what happens to her when Padme's life is threatened and Anakin decides to throw everything away for a chance at power. Being given responsibility of a child didn't help him, it didn't save him, it didn't allow him to learn how to let go of ANYTHING.

For five, this completely ignores that the one thing that truly fucks up Anakin is proximity to Palpatine. If your argument is that Anakin should've spent MORE TIME sitting on Coruscant rather than going out in the galaxy, then this just makes him EVEN MORE vulnerable to Palpatine than he is in canon because now he's even more available. Palpatine can pop over to see him, he can ask Anakin to come talk to him and chances are pretty good that Anakin's around. The ONLY real way to "save" Anakin from going dark is to somehow completely remove Palpatine from the equation. The reason Anakin falls has NOTHING TO DO with whether he gets to take care of kids or not, it has nothing to do with how the Jedi taught him their values, or WHO taught Anakin the Jedi's values. There is nothing the Jedi could've truly changed about their culture or their approach to training Anakin that would've saved him. The assumption that they could've just moves the blame from Palpatine and Anakin to the Jedi themselves instead of recognizing the Jedi as the victims of Palpatine and Anakin's choices.

And finally, you've kind-of missed the entire argument being made in this post about Anakin. The argument isn't "Anakin would've been better off as a different kind of Jedi" but "Anakin SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN A JEDI AT ALL." Now, if we set aside the problem of Palpatine entirely, the best environment for Anakin to grow up in likely would've been one that was more akin to a traditional family structure, preferably a set of parents who didn't already have children so he didn't have to feel like he needed to compete for affection. I DO think that Anakin could've learned a lot from the Jedi if Palpatine's influence were removed, but I also think that what he learned from them would ultimately help him to recognize that he didn't WANT to be a Jedi and that this life didn't truly make him happy. I think the Jedi's way of life was already perfectly set to help him overcome a lot of his traumas from childhood and lead a healthier life, but he was never going to make a good Jedi, no matter what kind of Jedi he tried to be, because the kinds of things Anakin generally wants AREN'T the kinds of things that the Jedi lifestyle allows for.

The whole metaphor with the kudzu and the goats is that Anakin DOES NOT BELONG IN THE JEDI ORDER, and he needs to be REMOVED from that environment in order to be somewhere where he doesn't harm others just by existing. It isn't the ENVIRONMENT'S fault that Anakin doesn't fit into it, and changing the environment itself doesn't change the fact that Anakin is a harmful presence in it. The kudzu also cannot be changed to be something that DOES fit into the environment without harm, it will ALWAYS be harmful, there's nothing to introduce into the environment that magically changes the kudzu into a non-harmful non-native plant. It's always going to be invasive and harmful until it's completely removed.

Anakin Skywalker was an invasive species in the Jedi. He was introduced to the environment by Qui-Gon and the Jedi tried everything they could to co-exist with him but Anakin just didn't want to co-exist, he wanted to take over, he wanted to be the BEST. And when the Jedi couldn't give him what he wanted, he destroyed them to make room for his own selfish desires.

Luke might be a non-native species on Tatooine, but his father was a an invasive species in every environment he inhabited and a parasite in every relationship he was in, so I think Luke's doing just fine quite honestly.

[imrkos]

LOST IN THE FIRE (R.C)

synopsis after the infamous scandal involving Yn and her now ex-boyfriend goes viral, Yn is forced to leave the only world she's ever known and adjust to her new life in the Outer Banks. Sent to live with her aunt, uncle, and cousin Kiara, Yn finds herself hanging around the type of people she swore to never be seen with and quickly becomes entangled in the rivalries between the Kooks and Pogues. And one thing Yn doesn’t take is crap from others which only catches the attention of Rafe Cameron who seems to be seriously smitten about her despite her association with his sworn enemies. But to Rafe’s disinterest Ward seems to have a new idea involving Rafe having to make Yn head over heels about him and use her elite status to cover up what he’s been doing behind everyone's back.

( previous <- MASTERLIST -> chapter two )

CHAPTER ONE : smau + written

WORD COUNT: 3089

10:24 PM — ARRIVAL.

Your name, his name, your face, his face, all plastered across every headline, all on Instagram, Twitter, TikTok, and even made its way onto Facebook. The video of you slapping your ex and tossing your ring at your own best friend — the ring he gave you and supposedly designed himself — was now as viral as it was scandalous.

The paparazzi, the parties, your vacation to Dubai, and then Paris were all gone as soon as you answered your phone the next morning. “Pack your bags.” was all your mother had said, she didn't even sound angry, which was even scarier.

You knew you should've waited till the gala was over, but when Gossip Girl posted that picture of Caleb and Gigi, your presumed “ride or die” you couldn't help but mess with them.

You first texted Caleb that you were needy and waiting for him in a room upstairs — you didn't show up — then you texted Gigi, something about her ex waiting for her, and as you presumed she went in and it happened to be the same room Caleb was in, and then you entered.

Long story short, thanks to your new BFF and accomplice Gossip Girl, you found out they were expecting and lucky them they were having a girl! “What great parents you guys will be! Sad she’ll grow up with a skank of a mother and a coward of a father but I guess it works.” The next thing you know Gigi is aiming toward you and falls, Caleb then tries grabbing you and you slap him, toss your ring, say a few nasty words, and the end.

How you guys ended up on tape will forever be a mystery, even Gossip Girl couldn't figure it out. But Caleb assumed you had gotten one of your friends to record and threatened to sue. Pathetic but that was your mother's last straw and now you're here, on a train — which you weren't too happy about — going to see family you haven't seen since you were seven.

Last you heard, they were doing well with their restaurant, and your cousin, Kiara, often got into trouble with some kids that your aunt and uncle disapproved of.

From what you’ve searched up on your way there it seems like they live by the beach which you don’t mind but compared to your room back in the Upper East Side it wasn’t all that. You also noticed that she followed you about two hours ago, you requested to follow her and she almost immediately accepted.

Interesting, you thought, you quickly took notice of her friends, they were all over her feed — the same ones your aunt and uncle disliked you assume. Her life looked completely different from what you were used to, she had pictures of her by the beach with her friends, some of herself, and turtles..lots of them.

Would she be your first choice for a friend? No, but she was family after all and one thing you did prioritize was your family. Suddenly you hear the intercom and watch as people start getting off. Gosh, how you missed New York already.

“Y/n!” You hear as soon as you step out of the train, your aunt stands there with a warm smile plastered on her face — you can tell she was forcing it, she seemed happy to see you, yes but she looked too happy. Your uncle stands to her right as he waits his turn to greet you, he looks the same way he looked all those years ago.

“Hey,” you greeted, “It's been so long!! When your mom was on the phone with me and suggested you come here I was so excited! Maybe you can help Kiara stay out of trouble.” Kiara, you noticed she wasn't there “Kiara, she's at home. Hurricane passed the day before so she decided to stay.,” your uncle Mike says, That answers your question.

10:38 PM.

“So how was the ride?” Terrible “It was alright.” You’ve been answering questions non-stop for the past 20 minutes, the car ride only seeming longer the more she kept asking questions. How’s New York? I heard you want to go to Princeton, your brother, how is he?

The endless questions would replay in your mind as you sat in the backseat of their car. New York's perfect, I actually want to go to Harvard, Princeton is my mom's dream, My brother? He stopped responding to our messages a few months ago.

You sighed looking out the window and watching the world go by. Every now and then you’d catch a glimpse of something that reminded you of home, yet none of it felt like home. You could feel your uncle's eyes on you from the mirror “You’ll get used to this.” you stay silent only looking at him for a second before looking back out “No paparazzi bothering you here, beach days 24/7, I guarantee you’ll make friends fast.” he continued, you only gave him a slight smile.

As you turned onto a narrow street flanked by rows of beach cottages, your phone buzzed. Mom displayed across your screen “I sent you there for a reason, don't make me and your father look even worse.” She was replying to your previous message, four hours later.

Once in a while, you'd wonder how your dad ended up with someone like your mom. They were total opposites. Your mom grew up with wealth and influence, and that's how she landed her roles. Your dad on the other hand came from a humble upbringing, he went to school for music despite your grandparent's disappointment, failed, got back up, and ended up with multiple hits.

They were yin and yang, so different yet they worked.

You always imagined your life with Caleb, would it end up like your parent's relationship? Disagreements here and there but always finding yourselves back to one another, or like his parents? Perfect on the outside but broke from the inside.

Love scared you, yet you seemed to yearn for it.

As you got out of the car, the salt air hit you immediately, and for a second, you almost forgot about the mess your life had become. The waves crashing in the distance gave off an oddly calming effect, but you knew that wouldn't last long.

“Here’s home,” your uncle Mike said, A modest beach house, white with baby blue exterior shutters. It definitely wasn't what you were used to but it was pretty.

“Let's get inside sweetheart, let's hope the wifi’s back up!” you nod and earn a reassuring smile from your uncle as he grabs your bags from the trunk. You quickly take notice of the difference between their house and yours, pictures of all three of them smiling, baby pictures, of course, the half-burned candles, the atmosphere feels warm and peaceful compared to the lonesome one you're used to.

You could hear your aunt snickering with someone on the phone but you paid no mind to it, “Your room is upstairs, three doors down to the left, make yourself at home” Mike said coming down the stairs “Thank you” you reacted making your way upstairs.

The room was cozy and you had a great view of the sea, you couldn't complain. 10:47 Your phone lit up, a message from Instagram,

Kiara 🌺: Hey, wanna go to a Boneyard? I'll be there in about 10 minutes. Get ready.

You stare at the message for a while…Boneyard? You hadn't even met the girl in person and she was already asking to hang out.

You: Your parents fine with it? lol

Kiara 🌺: Fine with me showing my cousin around late at night? Yes of course :)

You chuckle and send a simple “right” text before turning your phone off, So much for staying out of trouble.

You decide on a simple tube top and ruffled skirt you had bought before leaving, your mom had picked out most things in your luggage, you could say many things about her but you couldn't say she didn't have taste.

You hear three quiet knocks before turning around and being met by an awkward-looking Kiara “I was at the Boneyard and remembered you were coming today,” she rambled before sitting down next to you

“It looks cute, your outfit.” she compliments “Thanks. Thought I underdressed but, I'm assuming this Boneyard thing isn't very glitz and glamour.” she snorts “Yeah no,” she gets up before talking again “Can I use it?” she asks pointing at the bathroom, you nod frantically and she smiles closing the door behind her.

You didn't know what to feel about her. She's out there. You're also out there. Maybe you guys will get along after all? But Gigi was out there as well and look at how that ended up.

Your head turns once you hear the door open “Alright so my friends are waiting for us there so we should get going” she says, you quickly stand up straightening your skirt, “You walked?” she turns her head towards you motioning for you to lower your voice, right, her parents.

You guys quietly make your way downstairs and out the door making sure you don't make a sound, “No, I didn't walk, JJ, my friend offered to drive me and I said yes but I kinda thought we could drive there together so he went back.” she answered as soon as you guys made it outside, “Oh” you reply following Kiara to the car you were just in “My dad is gonna kill me, get in” she says opening the passenger door for you.

As you guys make your way to the Boneyard, Kiara breaks the silence and starts asking questions. — like mother like daughter. “Gossip Girl who is it?” “I'm not too sure myself” “How come you've not gotten into acting or singing?” “My mother” “Princeton? So you're really smart” “More like my mom bribed a few people there but I guess”

The rest of the car ride consisted of pure silence beside the hum of the car engine and Kiara’s occasional humming along to the radio. You on the other hand stared out the window drifting back to your thoughts from earlier.

What are my parents up to right now? Is your brother wondering what you're doing right now? Has he seen the many articles with your name plastered on them? Has Kiara?

When the car finally pulled into a gravel lot near the beach, the first thing that hit you was the cool breeze followed by the smell of wood burning. You weren't sure what you were expecting when you heard Boneyard but this wasn't it.

A crowd of teenagers gathered together, sitting on the hoods of cars, some in small clusters, others laughing, dancing, watching a group of guys throwing a football around. It was everything your mother kept you from. Kiara immediately headed toward a circle of people, and you followed, trying your hardest not to stand out too much. But soon enough there were eyes on you — curiosity and intrigue written across their faces. You could hear the snippets of whispered comments and almost hidden glances. You could tell they all recognized you, but you couldn't tell if you were welcomed here or if they wanted you out.

“Yo, Kie, who's this?” a voice suddenly called out, sharp and demanding, cutting through the noise of people around you guys.

You turned to see a guy walking towards you, he was tall and lean, with messy blonde hair that fell just above his eyes. His demeanor was confident like he was used to the attention, having people notice him. When he locked eyes with you his gaze flickered — he looked like he was trying to figure you out. He slightly squinted his eyes, it was hard to tell what he was thinking at that moment but you felt a slight change in the air.

Kiara rolled her eyes but replied “My cousin, Y/n.” she seemed unfazed by his intense stare. “Y/n, this is Rafe-” she continued before suddenly getting cut off “Rafe Cameron.” he extends a hand out but you don't take it, leaving him puzzled but soon his puzzled expression turns into a smug one.

“Alright,” he says leaning in just a little too close, his eyes still fixated on yours “Ms.L/n would you care for a drink?” you shake your head no, keeping your mouth shut, slightly amused at his offer. Rafe takes a step back, his eyes now wandering on your body, he takes notice of your outfit. “Well, I'll make sure to keep an eye out for you Ms.L/n,” he turns to Kiara and back to you “Just be careful, you don't want to get lost with the wrong crowd” he winks.

Before you could respond, Kiara was already pulling you away, leading you to a firepit, you noticed it was surrounded by her friends you recognized from her Instagram. “Gosh, he's so annoying” Kiara complains, you nod, still feeling Rafe’s eyes on you as you sit down next to her.

“I kinda guessed he'd walk up to you guys, I mean hey look who it is!” the blonde-haired guy says, earning himself a slight nudge from the guy beside him “Ignore him, I’m Pope, it's nice to meet you! This idiot is JJ and this one over here,” he says pointing to the guy next to Kiara “Is John B.” You notice them all staring at you waiting for you to say something “Y/n, Y/n L/n, nice to meet you guys.”

“So, Rafe Cameron?” Jj asks, “I think I know better than to associate myself with somebody like him.” They all laugh in unison, “Yeah, he's a bit crazy” John B says “A bit? He’s like a total lunatic.” Kiara adds — Crazy lunatic huh?

11:58 PM.

You had been keeping yourself busy talking with some guy you met a couple of minutes back. His eyes often drifted toward a girl a few feet away from you guys and you quickly understood y'all were in the same boat “Trying to get over her?” you asked “Hmm?” he mumbled turning back to you “Oh- She’s y’know- it's complicated.” You nod, and he gives you a sheepish smile taking a sip from the drink Kiara offered you guys — some cheap-smelling liquor with orange juice.

You were pulled away from your conversation when you heard commotion starting on the other side of the beach. Kiara and Pope looking helpless next to JJ and John B arguing with some guy, you quickly make your way to Kiara’s side listening to the argument unfolding,

“She doesn't want it, asshole!” the guy spits back, slapping JJ’s cup away causing it to spill onto John B. “Topper please.” you hear the girl next to the guy plead “We’re laying low. Being normal.” Pope chimes in trying to calm the situation down but to no avail “Oh my god” Pope lets out as soon as John B pushes Topper

“Don't make me drown you like your old man,” Topper said, causing John B to lunge at him but misses before being punched by Topper, falling to the sand.

“Holy shit!” You yell out, “Stop him!” You say, Pope only shaking his head clearly shaken up, you scoff looking around, your eyes locked with Rafes, he was standing, his arms crossed, clearly unimpressed by what was happening. “Hey” he mouths at you, you roll your eyes turning back to see John B fighting for his life “Fuck” you mumbled.

“Stop!” Kiara yells out getting closer to the two guys fighting “Topper!” the girl — his girlfriend you assumed — yelled out. Suddenly you see JJ, gun in hand, pointing it at Topper's head “Your move, broski.” Your eyes widen at the sight of the gun “Put the gun down, JJ!” the girlfriend yells out, JJ laughs “Did you say something, princess?” John B looks at JJ, shaking his head “Cool out, JJ.” he says trying to regain his breath “I was saving you, bro.” he replies,

Kiara looks over at you, she looks distressed, her hair blowing onto her face, and she has a firm grip on your arm. JJ raises the gun to the sky “Get the fuck off our side of the island!” he yells out firing a few shots into the sky, the people around you panicking — you were too but stay by Kiara’s side.

JJ comes closer to you guys “What the fuck!” you say shoving him slightly “What? I just saved his fucking life!” he cursed, you only looking at him in disbelief “Oh yeah? By pulling a gun out at someone? You're a real fucking genius!” You yell “Listen here, Angel this is how it works out here! Pogues versus Kooks. It's been this way forever, and you can't come here suddenly and tell us what’s right and wrong! Y’know, you seem to really fit in with those Kooks! We’ve all seen those headlines, you aren't a saint.”

“JJ!” you hear Kiara yell, you only look at him and smile “I don't know who you think you're talking to but just know I have eyes and ears everywhere, call me all you want, and don't be surprised when something of yours is leaked to the public. It's a small island, right? I'm guessing things spread around fast here. Watch your tone.” You warn before walking off “Yn!” you hear Kiara yell out as you make your way to the car

“Told you.” you hear, “Told me what?” you ask already expecting to see his face, probably leaning up against something, his signature smug face. “I don't think mommy and daddy would want to see their perfect Angel hanging around people like those Pogues.” you lift your head now leaning against Kiara’s car — you were right, he was leaning against what you assumed was his car, looking down at you. “What's up with this Pogue, Kook thing?” He shrugs “It's been this way for as long as I can remember. You're too pretty to be hanging out with them.” he says leaning in close, just like earlier.

“How about I drive you home?” he suggests “As if.” he chuckles, bringing a hand to his face, and fixing his hair “I like you,” he says “I’ll see you around, doll.”

“Oh no, you're not.” you laugh

“Oh trust me. We’ll be spending a lot of quality time together. Sweet dreams, pretty girl.”

NOTE: Hello!! hope you enjoyed this lol, was gonna upload it thursday but oopsie and then yesterday it snowed so yeah I went out :> but anyways thank you for reading!

TAGLIST: @vwosnz // @high-functioning-cosplayer // @bettys-redwinesupernova // @bambiangels // @grapejuice32 // @amterasuu // @starkeyszn

[featherandferns]

colour in the lines (fic)

jj maybank x fem!reader | enemies-to-lovers, tutor!reader concept set around season 1 era (no gold hunt) | not yet proofread so apologies!

content warning: dr*g use (weed, drinking); references to s3x; unique family dynamics

word count: 20k. (she's a slow-burner, but it's worth it)

blurb: When Mr Sunn hires you as JJ Maybank's tutor for the summer break, neither of you have high hopes for success. But as the lessons stretch on, maybe JJ isn't as much of an asshole as you thought, and maybe you aren't as much of a brown nose as he assumed.

The Arrangement 

“You ain’t serious.”

“As the plague,” Mr Sunn nods. 

JJ groans and tosses his head back. He’s lounging in the wooden chair as if it’s a comfortable Lay-Z-Boy. “Mr Sunn, can we just admit to each other right here and now that me getting a diploma ain’t ever gonna happen?”

Mr Sunn’s eyebrow quirks. He clasps his hands together atop of his desk. “You might be willing to give up on your education but I’m not. And until the day comes around that I am, you’re going to have tutoring.”

JJ stares begrudgingly at Mr Sunn like a sulking child. Tutoring? Come on, man. It felt as laughable and as useless as gifting a paralysed person a treadmill. 

“When’s this tutoring gonna be?” JJ reluctantly asks. 

“Every week on a Wednesday.”

“In September?”

“Starting next week.”

“Next week?” JJ gapes. Mr Sunn nods. “Mr Sunn, next week is the start of summer vacation. I ain’t gonna be educating myself during summer vacation. I think that’s actually against one of the human rights or something.”

“It isn’t. Maybe you’d know that if you actually attended class,” Mr Sunn remarks, almost smug. JJ rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath. 

“Summer vacation?”

“If you stop your moaning and bitching, you’d hear more about the conditions of it.”

“Oh, goody. Please do tell.”

There’s a warning in the look Mr Sunn shoots JJ that has him rolling his eyes again. Glancing off out the window, he sighs. The football field is devoid of life save for the birds pecking at the grass. There’s no bustling in the halls, no students in the classrooms. JJ was the lingering student on Friday after school, subject to the conversation with Mr Sunn per request at the end of class. It had been almost thirty minutes; the start of the discussion had been a delightful monologue delivered about JJ’s failing grades and concerning marks. That had followed into this downright hideous discussion of tutoring. 

“I’ve assigned a student who’s more than happy to give you tutoring. Like I said before, every Wednesday at one in the afternoon - unless exceptional circumstances occur.”

“Like me not wanting to get outta bed?”

“Like being in the hospital for a traumatic brain injury,” Mr Sunn corrects with a levelled look. JJ scoffs. Close enough, in his head. “She’ll tell me if you’ve attended the session, and if you stayed for the full time allocated–”

“--Wait, she? Who the hell–” Another pointed look that has JJ clearing his throat. “Who the heck is this tutor?”

Mr Sunn glances down at the papers laid out in front of him (many of which are evidence of JJ’s poor grades). “A Miss L/N.”

JJ’s brows furrow as he flicks through his mental rolodex of classmates at his school. The last name rattles around his brain until he finally finds a picture. His face falls. “Y/N?”

Mr Sunn nods. “She’s a stellar student.”

“She’s a brown-nosing bore.”

“Don’t think comments like that are very necessary, Maybank,” Mr Sunn warns. JJ doesn’t much care. 

JJ used to be in the same class as you last year but you had been in the background of JJ’s life since kindergarten. Kildare was a small county. Nearly every classmate traced back to the beginning of childhood. New students were rare and most seemingly went to Kook academy. He hadn’t interacted with you much, if at all, but he could place you pretty well. You always abided by the dress code; always attended class; always handed in your homework on time; always stuck up your hand in class; always got the answers right; and always aced the exams. You were on some of the nerd teams at school - chess and mathletes - and JJ was certain he’d seen you in the marching band at a football game he was dragged to a few years back. A textbook goody-two-shoe know-it-all: that’s what you were. The only defining story that JJ had of you was from Pope, who held a half-joking, half-serious grudge against you following a loss at a spelling bee in middle school. You’d won and JJ wondered if it was Pope’s villain origin story. The word ‘chromotosis’ was still a tender spot (and one JJ liked to poke from time to time). 

JJ laughs humourlessly, becoming increasingly annoyed with the situation. “Mr Sunn, you can’t be serious! I’d rather have you just tutor me instead!” 

“Well, I’m going to enjoy my summer vacation after spending the year teaching your classmates.”

JJ doesn’t let the omission of ‘you’ from his sentence bother him too much. It was valid. JJ was a failing student. He attended school fleetingly. Homework was nothing more than a theoretical concept in his world and tests were his mortal enemy. The letter ‘F’ had become a best friend, with ‘D’ and ‘C’ close companions. Learning didn’t come easy to him, not in the way it did for John B and Kiara, and especially not in the way it was for Pope. Everything took him longer. Reading, writing, equations, retaining information. It didn’t help that most of it didn’t interest him, either. Besides, JJ found it hard to sit still for long in the classroom. He got fidgety and restless. The outside world called to him through the window: the song of the waves, the tweeting in the trees. JJ was good with practical things like handiwork and mechanics. That was the profession he’d venture into more than likely, so what was the point in breaking his back over a pointless high school degree? 

Sighing, JJ rakes his fingers through his unruly hair. “Look, Mr Sunn, I’m gonna level with ya. I don’t think there’s much point in me getting a degree. I don’t give a crap about history or English or maths or any of that bullshit. And I don’t need it, a’right? I mean, you gotta know that, surely?” Before Mr Sunn can answer, JJ’s leaning in and digging through the papers. He retrieves one of his report cards and points at Mechanics. “Look! See! I’m pretty decent at stuff like that! Why can’t I just drop the rest and focus on that and be done with it?”

Mr Sunn sighs and smiles sympathetically at JJ. He takes the report card back and talks as he straightens out the papers. “I wish I could do that for you, JJ, but the state requires you to take all the core classes to graduate with a diploma. It might not mean much to you now, but trust me when I say that you’ll open so many more doors in your life if you apply yourself and finish school.”

There’s an unfamiliar sincerity in Mr Sunn’s words when he tells JJ, “You might not think you can do it, but I know you can. With some extra help, you can graduate, JJ.”

JJ holds Mr Sunn’s gaze for a long moment. Swallowing, JJ is disbelieving of the next words that leave his mouth in a resigned sigh. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

The First Lesson 

Your pencil taps rhythmically on the table as you glance at the clock on the wall for the eleventh time. Ten minutes late. Sighing, annoyed, you pick up your phone and text your best friend, Esme. 

Huffing out another breath, you return the phone to the table and busy yourself with reviewing the resources you’d brought. 

When Mr Sunn offered you the summer part-time job of tutoring, you thought - frankly -that it would be a piece of piss. Give some lessons to some snotty little stressed out middle schooler and earn fifteen bucks every Wednesday? Where do I sign? But that fantasy was soon broken. Instead of an innocent child struggling with algebra homework, it was JJ Maybank. JJ’s reputation preceded him like Jay Gatsby. He was a prolific class skipper. When he did attend, it was usually to disturb the lesson with childish jokes until he wound up in the principal’s office and, most likely, detention. He spent quizzes blowing raspberries, tapping his pencil and gazing out the window. Teachers stopped bothering to ask him if he finished his homework. Outside of that, you knew him to be a womanizer, a petty thief, and an adrenaline junky. The only notable interaction you had with JJ had left a bad taste in your mouth. You tried to forget about it, pushing it into the back of your mind, but the name always brought back the memory of that one day in class. That one passing remark that changed your opinion of JJ in a split-second. Following all of that, fifteen dollars - whilst still enough to have you agree to tutoring - did not feel like an even trade for dulling your brain cells for one hour in his company. 

Good news was that he wasn’t going to show, it seemed. Silver linings. Bad news? No JJ - no payout. 

As your eyes glance over the textbook photocopy to ensure it didn’t cut any information off, the door to Mr Sunn’s classroom swings open. You startle and look up, half expecting to see the security guard asking you what the hell you’re doing here. Instead, your eyes land on JJ Maybank. He’s talking as he walks over to the table you’ve claimed. 

“You would not believe how good the weather is out there today, holy shit,” he rambles as he pulls out the chair opposite you. “It’s fucking golden, Goddamn.”

You’re unsure what to say. Instead, you watch as JJ sighs and relaxes in his seat. One of his arms is tossed over the back of it; his legs manspread comfortably. Hair pressed under a beige cap, scruffy on the lip, his t-shirt and shorts are appropriate for the scorching weather outside. His combat boots that you’d noted when he walked over, not so much. 

Seemingly at your silence, he quirks a brow. “So? We gonna get started, or?”

“You’re late,” you say, annoyed at his urgency. “Ten minutes late. Actually-” A quick glance at the clock. “-eleven minutes late.”

JJ shrugs. “I was hungry. Had to stop by in-n-out.”

“You went to in-n-out?” 

His brows raise. “Did you want something from there? Didn’t peg you much as the, uh…fast food type.”

You’re not sure what he means by that but you imagine something unfriendly. Rolling your eyes, you level him with a glare. “You were eleven minutes late to our lesson because you stopped at an in-n-out?”

“Yep. So, what we starting with?” Before you can even formulate your next sentence, JJ’s interrupting you. “Actually, can I just– D’you mind if we wrap this up early today? Maybe do a half-session or something?”

“A half session?”

“Mhn,” he nods. JJ grins as he says, “the swells today at the beach are insane. It’s perfect surf weather. I gotta get a piece.”

Anger bubbles in your throat. Exhaling sharply through your nose, you grit your teeth. “Well, since you were eleven minutes late to the start of the lesson, we gotta make up for lost time. ‘Sides, Mr Sunn said that you had to attend the whole hour.”

“Yeah, but, like…He ain’t here, is he? So…” JJ leans forward on the table, closing down the space between the two of you. His biceps push against the sleeves of his short sleeve top when he rocks his weight forward and you’re quick to avert your eyes back to his face. There’s a boyish charm shining through his smirk. His eyes are half hooded as he scans your face and figure. You shift and square your shoulders, sitting back in your seat, trying to reclaim the gap. “What’d you say you do me a solid and tell a little white lie ‘bout it, huh? No harm in that, right?”

Oh. You see what’s happening. JJ thinks you’re just another one of the girls bewitched by his beauty. That all he has to do is bat his pretty eyes and flash you that gorgeous smile and you’ll fall at his feet and do as he asks. 

You try to bite back your smirk as best as possible when you lean forward. You leave the smallest gap between you, forearms almost touching, and you get a thrill at the flash of surprise in his eyes. 

“Listen, blue eyes. I get paid for the hour and, unlucky for you, I don’t enjoy lying to people. So here’s what gonna happen. We’re going to sit here and do the full one-hour session, making sure we don’t lose those lovely eleven minutes. Sound good?”

JJ’s smile falls quickly. He grits his teeth and clenches his jaw. You sweeten the deal with an overly sugary smile before returning to how you were sat before. 

“We’re starting with biology.”

JJ slowly unfurls himself to retain into his seat. You dig out one of the worksheets and slide it across the table to him. 

“What’d you remember from this semester?”

JJ sighs as if he’s bored and slowly raises his hands to count on his fingers. He takes his time as he recounts, in a dull tone of voice, “monkeys masturbate and…that’s about it.”

Rolling your eyes, irritated, you look down at your twinning worksheet. You push your glasses up the bridge of your nose when they slip down. “Right, okay, starting from square one then. If you look at the first paragraph, give it a quick read and then I’m gonna ask you some questions about it, ‘kay?”

JJ doesn’t say anything but grunts. It’s hard to restrain from rolling your eyes a third time. When a substantial amount of time has passed, you glance to see if he’s still reading. JJ sits, head rocked back, arms folded across his chest, eyes closed. You see red. 

“Done reading?” you manage out. He doesn’t open his eyes when he hums ‘yes’. “Okay then…” You look down at the questions you’d prepared and take a sigh before reading out the first one. “The powerhouse of the cell is called the…” 

JJ doesn’t say anything. Clearing your throat to prompt him, he cracks open an eye, observes you leisurely, and then closes it again. “Heart.”

“The Mitochondria.” 

“Right, yeah, that’s what I meant. Same thing.��

Your teeth grate against each other. Another cooling breath and you read the second, third, fourth questions. Each answer given by JJ raises your blood pressure by another degree. This is going to be a fucking pain in your ass. At the forty minute mark, you’re repeating the mantra ‘think of the money, think of the money, think of the money’ like a religious prayer in your mind. JJ has managed to make an almost impressive amount of crude jokes about cell anatomy, gave some brain-cell killing answers to pretty basic biology questions, and yawned enough times to have a doctor concerned for his well being. You’re relieved when your eyes find the clock reads that an hour has passed. 

“Right, well. That’s everything for today.”

“Oh, damn. I was just getting into it, too,” JJ sardonically says. You glare at him. He stands and stretches, his shirt riding up as he extends his arms above his head. He fixes his cap as he asks, “same time next week, then?”

“One in the afternoon.”

“Can’t wait,” he mutters. He wanders to the door, giving a fleeting ‘see ya’ as he slips out the classroom. You’re amazed the door doesn’t burst into flames with the heat of your stare. 

The First Complaint

The sun bathes JJ in blisteringly warm rays of daylight. He revels in it like a gecko in the desert. Arms tucked underneath his head, he lounges on the front of the boat. Sunglasses sit on his face, eyes closed behind them, and a toothpick sticks out from his lips. The water laps at the boat, rocking it gently from side to side. An old-school R&B song hums out the speaker near the cooler. 

“I’m telling y’all, the fishing out there is crazy. Worth the trip, for sure,” John B tells the Pogues. He’s probably where JJ last saw him; stood by the end of the boat, shirtless in his swim shorts like Pope and JJ, fishing. 

“I’m down. Could go next week,” Kiara says. She’s probably scrolling on her ipod to cue the next song. 

“My dad’s got me working shifts but I can do Wednesday,” Pope adds, likely reading. 

JJ blows a raspberry. “Wednesday is a no-go.”

“Why not?”

“I got class.”

He can hear the shared confusion in the silence. He props himself up on an elbow, jutting his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose enough to scan over his friends. They’re all exactly where he pictured them, staring at him blankly. 

“Class?” Pope finally asks. 

“Yeah. I’ve got tutoring.”

John B barks out a laugh and Kiara rolls her eyes, looking back to her ipod. “Yeah right,” she mutters. 

“Dude, I’m so serious right now,” JJ loudly defends, throwing his arm out. 

“The day you get tutoring is the day hell freezes over,” Pope declares. 

JJ shrugs. “Alright, then it’s frozen, cause I am.”

“How’d they get you to go? Gag and bind you?” John B sniggers, making the others laugh. 

“Hilarious. Thank you for caring about my education, assholes,” JJ grumbles. He isn’t actually offended. It tracks that the Pogues think he’s bullshitting. It isn’t as if JJ has valued books and pop quizzes at any stage in his life. Returning to his previous position, he grins as he says, “you’re not gonna guess who’s my tutor.”

“Mr Sunn?”

“Nope. He did allocate her, though.”

“Least we know it’s a she,” Kiara says. “Helps with the guessing.”

“Well, go on. Guess.”

“Just tell us,” Pope sighs, in no mood for games. JJ’s grin grows. 

“Your mortal enemy.”

John B and Kiara let out a gasp and snigger. JJ glances through his sunglasses to make out Pope’s face. In his disbelief, JJ nods. “Yep.”

“She still as brainy as she was then?”

“More,” JJ mutters. His memory flicks back to yesterday; the way your glasses slipped down your nose just slightly when you leant forward on the table. The shimmering of your eyes as they glared at him. The sneer on your lips. You clearly think rather highly of yourself. It had been pretty entertaining seeing how far he could push. He’s impressed that you didn’t lunge at him before the session was up; he was certain you’d come pretty close several times. Sighing, JJ sits back up on his arms and looks to his friends. “We’re going to that kegger tonight, right?”

“We could,” John B shrugs. “Not doing much else.”

“It’s Touron season,” JJ grins boyishly, making Kie roll her eyes. 

“You guys are gross.”

“Come on! Just trying to get little Pope’s dick wet for a change,” JJ lies, getting up and smacking a hand reassuringly on Pope’s shoulder. He’s shrugged off, making him snigger. 

“My dick is perfectly fine as it is, thank you,” Pope mutters, looking back down at his book. Rolling his eyes, JJ retrieves a beer from the cooler. 

“Whatever man. Lemme know when you want to learn how to get girls.”

“Yeah. JJ’s a scholar now, afterall,” John B jokes. At the heckling laughter of his friends, JJ rolls his eyes mirthfully and goes back to enjoying his summer break. 

The Second Lesson

You’re not sure why you’re surprised that JJ is late yet again to his lesson. This time you’ve found better ways to entertain yourself than clock watching. Sending memes back and forth with Esme and doomscrolling Instagram was working well to keep you from counting the minutes wasted in the empty classroom. You can hear people outside, playing in the fields, chattering on the streets as they walk to and from their summer day plans. There’s an itch under your skin to leave and make the most of the beautiful weather. It feels a shame to spend your time cooped up in a dusty classroom, making anagrams out of the history posters lining the walls. But the posters make you think of Mr Sunn, reminding you of the promise you’d made to him before the vacation started. 

“You’ll be paid for the tutoring and your trouble. But I’m trusting you to be honest. I don’t want to be paying out for an hour spent on Call of Duty or whatever it is you do in your spare time.”

“Definitely not Call of Duty.”

“Either way: if Maybank doesn’t show, then I need you to be honest with me. I’m trusting you.”

“I promise, Mr Sunn. You can put your faith in me.”

Your phone begins to ring. Picking up, you don’t have the chance to say ‘hi’ before Esme is talking. 

“What a fucking loser.”

“I mean, he has my number. He could at least message to say he’s running late,” you complain. 

“He could at least bother showing up on time,” Esme corrects, making you laugh. “He’s probably not even doing anything anyway.”

“I honestly don’t give a shit what he’s doing. Just wish I had a heads-up if he’s not going to show so I can actually do something with my day,” you sigh, rubbing at your forehead. “Mom’s got another night shift tonight and I hate leaving Leo alone all day.”

“I thought he was going to that summer day-camp thingy? The scholarship deal didn’t get cancelled, did it?” Esme worries. 

“He’s not going anymore. Not because of the scholarship - that’s still fine. Just…” Your voice trails off, heart tugging at the memory of his crestfallen face, muddled with confusion when you had to tell him he wasn’t going to be going back. 

“The usual stuff?” Esme guesses. She’d known you for almost six years now; she knew Leo for just as long. She shared that same protectiveness for him. 

“Yep.”

“Kids are shitheads.”

You bark out a laugh. “You can’t say that about children, Esme.”

The two of you laugh quietly. You sigh and fiddle with the corner of one of the worksheets. Just as you’re about to tell her that you’ll leave in the next five minutes, the door pushes open. “I gotta go, Esme.”

“Wait - did he actually show up?” 

“Yep.”

“Holy shit, someone call the media,” she mutters. You give a sheltered laugh, eyes scanning over a sunglass-donning JJ. “Alright, message me after. Love ya.”

“Talk soon,” you hum before the line clicks off. Placing your phone down on the table, you watch as JJ shuffles into the room lethargically. He’s dressed similarly to last week: combat boots, shorts, t-shirt. The cap this week is red, equally as well-worn as the beige. The sunglasses are new though. “You seem lively.”

“Not so loud, please,” JJ groans, bringing a hand up to his forehead as if nursing a headache. He collapses into the chair opposite you with a grunt. A silence lingers between the two of you. JJ is so still you half question if he’s passed out. Eventually, he shifts enough to tug his sunglasses down, revealing a slither of his eyeline. He’s looking at you. 

“You gonna start with the lesson, then?”

“You gonna stay awake for it?” you ask in return. He pushes the sunglasses back up. 

“No promises.”

“You’re hungover,” you observe. JJ makes a ding-ding-ding noise under breath. The momentary peacefulness that came from your quick phone call with Esme is soon dissipating. “You’re hungover despite knowing that we had tutoring today?”

“I don’t know what ‘despite’ means, a’right? Can we make a ban on big words when my brain feels like it’s gonna explode?”

“Might need you to define big words. Have a feeling most words qualify as that with you,” you mutter. JJ scoffs. 

“Get off your high horse, brown noser. Just cause you’ve read a few books don’t mean you know everything.”

“As opposed to you?” you quip back. 

JJ snuggles in his seat, folding his arms over his chest in an echo of his posture last week. “Just start with the schooling, huh? Thought you needed to report back to Daddy Sunn that you’ve done your duties.”

Your nose turns up at the nickname. Not bothering to argue, you dig through the worksheets and hesitate in passing one across the table to him. Your eyes scan over his figure. His carelessness in his appearance; his indifference to this generous opportunity he’s been given; his dismissiveness of your valuable donation of time. It irritates you. A lot. 

“You don’t realise how fortunate you are, do you?” you snap. 

JJ visibly stuns at your tone. He doesn’t hurry his movements as he sits straighter in his seat, turning to face you, sliding his sunglasses off his face. His eyebrows rise, bloodshot eyes zeroing in on you. “What was that, brown nose?”

“You have no idea how fortunate you are to be here right now,” you repeat, holding your ground. You clear your throat and correct your glasses on your nose. “Mr Sunn put a lot of effort into organising these sessions. Letting us have access to the building out of hours. Access to all these resources. He put a lot of faith into you. He genuinely believed that you’d give enough of a crap to at least try tutoring. But instead you stroll in her like the sun shines out of your ass and you’re God’s gift to earth and waste everybody’s time.”

JJ watches you after your outburst. His eyes flit over your face, taking in every inch of your disgruntled expression, and his lips twitch downwardly. Leaning forward on the table, he raises a finger to point in your face. 

“You don’t know shit about my fortune,” he remarks darkly, in a tone that you’ve never once heard from him. He’s unrecognisable as he warns you, “you stay in your lane and I’ll stay in mine, a’right? I ain’t needing you preaching on your soapbox about how good I got shit when you ain’t know anything about anything. So either get on with teaching, or I’ll get on up and out that door.”

It’s unnerving, JJ’s demeanour and tone. It’s unnerving but it isn’t enough to make you back down. Narrowing your eyes, you sit proud and tall, hands clasped politely atop of the table. 

“Be my guest. The door is behind you, in case you’re too drunk to find it.”

JJ’s chair pushes back from the force he gets up with. He mutters under breath curses and cusses as he makes his way to the door. Your voice is polite and cheery as you call, “One o’clock next Wednesday.”

The door slams closed. Another successful tutoring session. Another migraine to go home with. 

The First Check-In 

“JJ! Answer your damn phone!” John B hollers from the bathroom. 

JJ jogs through the Chateau in search of the cell. It’s the third call he’s missed. It isn’t on purpose: he can’t find where he put the damn thing. It’s as if it’s fallen into a pocket of the universe that ceases to exist. Digging through the couch cushions of the pull-out, JJ’s fingers finally make contact with the buzzing device. 

“Aha!” he cheers, pulling out. He swipes to answer, tumbling back on the sofa-bed. It must have fallen down there when he was fooling around with some Touron he met at the kegger last night. “Yo.”

“Maybank.”

JJ’s eyes press shut and his mood significantly drops. “Sup, Mr Sunn.”

“Not much, not much. Just calling to check in on how the tutoring is going?”

“How’s it going?”

Terrible. It’s awful. JJ has never known a bigger waste of time. He’s learnt a total of zero things from the hour and ten minutes spent in your company, apart from the fact that you’re the most aggravating girl he has ever met. You might be the first female that JJ hasn’t enjoyed spending time with. Rather impressive, actually. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s great,” JJ lies easily. He rubs at the sleep in his eyes as he continues, “learning a ton, feeling really smart. Gaining all that knowledge, y’know?”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

“That’s interesting. Cause your tutor couldn’t agree less.”

JJ grits his teeth. Of course, you’re a rat as well as a shrew. You just seem to cover all areas of dislike in JJ’s books, it’s as if you’ve read all of JJ’s least favourite things. 

“Oh really? What’d she say?”

“That you’re not engaging with the work. The last session was cut short too, apparently,” Mr Sunn recalls, disapproval dripping from every word. 

“Yeah, well, you see, there was those exceptional circumstances you were talking about for that one, Mr S,” JJ half-arsedly defends. 

“Really? A traumatic brain injury?” Mr Sunn checks, unconvinced. 

“Yeah, yeah. A really brutal one, too,” JJ says, wincing at the memory of the banging headache he was awarded for going a bit too hard at the kegger the night before. 

Mr Sunn’s sigh cuts deep. It’s parental. That sentiment of ‘I’m not angry, just disappointed’ is translated through the exhale, and JJ hates how much of an effect it has on him. JJ liked Mr Sunn: all of the Pogues did. He was a good teacher and cool guy. As annoying as your preaching was, JJ was reluctant to admit there was some truth to some of the things you said. Mr Sunn did believe in JJ. God knows why or what for, but he had put all of this together to purely benefit the blonde haired boy. Maybe you were somewhat right in him taking that for granted. Maybe. 

“Look, JJ, if you’re not gonna take this seriously then we might as well call it off now,” Mr Sunn hedges.

“No, no, wait, look, Mr Sunn…I’m gonna level with you…” JJ takes a sigh and braces himself. “I haven’t been taking it seriously but I will now. I’ll start, y’know…Trying. Like, actually trying.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” JJ reassures. “Just gimme one more chance, yeah?”

Mr Sunn hesitates before sighing once more. “Alright. Fine. One more chance.”

“Thanks, Mr S,” JJ says. He’s surprised with himself for willingly signing on for more of your boring-ass lessons, but something in his gut tells him this is the right call. “I won’t let you down.”

“Alright, Maybank. You got one more chance. Wednesday, one o’clock. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t be,” JJ promises. As the phone call ends, JJ makes a secret deal with himself to give the tutoring a real chance. To give himself a real chance. 

The Third Lesson 

The feeling of your heart pounding in your throat is uncomfortable, to say the least. There’s a thin sheen of sweat on your forehead as you race around the house. In your head, you’re mentally juggling a million and one thoughts. Need to do this, need to do that. The checklist spans over several thoughts and derails every line of logic. It doesn’t help that it feels like Satan's asshole in the house right now. It is so hot. You think you might have seen something on Instagram claiming it was the hottest day of the year. Your family home is noisy with the sound of life: the washing machine and dryer are both on, rattling loudly in the utility room; the blender is going for your mom’s protein shake; the television and radio are both on and Leo refuses to turn either off. Overstimulating children’s cartoons bellow out into the stuffy living room. 

You’re standing in the bedroom, packing your bag frantically with school supplies for the tutoring session that’s near approaching. A holler of your name from downstairs has you groaning. At first, you try to ignore it, but it only gets louder and louder, until Leo is practically screeching for you. Your mom starts to call for you, too, beckoning you to go to him from her bedroom. With a frustrated huff, you ditch your mess of belongings on your bed and rush out of your room. 

“I’m going, mom!” you loudly tell her as you hurry down the stairs. 

Leo is sitting on the living room floor, a broken mechanical car in his hand. He holds it up to you, pouting, as he demands, “fix it, sissy! Fix it!”

“Leo, I really don’t have time to fix it,” you sigh tiredly, leaning down to take it from him. You inspect the damage and shake your head, “can’t you play with something else until I get home?”

“Fix it! Sissy! Fix it!” Leo continues to command. His eyes well with tears and his lip begins to tremble, and you know the signs of one of his episodes well. Overwhelmed, you sit down on the sofa and try your best to remedy the toy. It’s useless. It requires some sort of tool to get everything back together and functioning. Leo comes over and tugs on your t-shirt as you work, murmuring ‘sissy, fix it. Fix it, sissy,’ 

“I’m trying, Leo. Sissy is trying,” you mumble. You feel your own lip tremble and tears starting to form, and you internally curse yourself and will them away. You never cry in front of Leo. It’s your duty to keep him protected; to shelter him from the stresses that come along with your life. It isn’t his fault that things are different with him. But the more you try and fix the toy, and the louder the washing machine and dryer and blender become, and the hotter the room gets, and the more insistent Leo’s tugging and pulling becomes, the harder it is to hold back your brimming emotions. 

Leo begins to cry and you curse under breath. You place the toy on the coffee table and get down on your knees. 

“Leo, honey. Don’t cry. I will fix it, okay? Sissy will fix it. I just need a bit more time, m’kay?”

“Fix it, fix it, fix it,” he wails. His small hands ball into fists and he pummels the sides of his head, and your heart lurches. Your hands scramble to gently cup his own, ceasing the action as much as possible. 

“Don’t do that, baby. Please don’t do that.”

“Fix it, sissy,” he sobs.

“I will, I will,” you promise. Anything, you think. I’d do anything for you. You’re relieved when he lets you pull him into an embrace. You let him cry and smack his hands against your back. Emotions are big in his tiny body. They overwhelm him. It isn’t his fault. You press a kiss to his cheek, hoping you can somehow communicate that thought to him. When he’s settled, you give him one more squeeze before pulling away. Taking the toy from the coffee table, you tell him, “I’ll have it fixed by the time I get back home, m’kay?”

“Sissy fix it later,” Leo sniffles, nodding. Your smile is brimming and bright as you nod encouragingly. 

“Yes, yes. Sissy fix it later,” you reassure. Your eyes dart to the grandfather clock that stands in the hallway. Shit. “I really need to go, Leo. You need anything, you tell mom, yeah? Wake her up only if you need to, though.”

Leo nods. 

You jog through the house, scrambling up the stairs. The toy is shoved into your tote bag alongside the rest of the supplies, and then you’re racing down the stairs. The blender is finally finished; pouring it into a glass, you’re hurrying back to your mom’s room and leaving it on her bedside table. She’d finished a 32 hour shift at the hospital about two hours ago. Asleep, buried in the bedsheets, you lean down and press a kiss to her forehead. 

“See ya later, mom. Love ya,” you mumble softly. Closing the door gently behind you, you return downstairs to find Leo peacefully playing with a stuffed animal. Thank God. As you unlock the front door, you relay your usual farewell: “there’s carrot sticks and bell pepper sticks in the tub on the coffee table. Wake mom if it’s an emergency. Don’t touch the fireplace. Sissy will be back soon!”

Leo’s farewell is cut short by the closing front door. The pulsing heat slows you down as you speed walk to the high school. Children playing soccer and couples sharing picnics and surfer bros and girls loading up cars and vans and trucks blur into pictures of fantasies that you wish you could indulge in as you make your way down the streets. Finally, finally, you arrive at the high school. The air con is as relieving as heroin as you rush down the isolated corridors. JJ’s head whips to the opening door when you make it to the classroom. 

“Wow. You did show up.”

Your eyes squeeze shut with suppressed emotion as you bee-line to your chair. JJ doesn’t lose the opportunity to lecture, though. You suppose you have it coming from how much grief you’ve given him from being tardy. 

“I mean, you’d think that you’d at least practice what you preach. After all the shit you gave me for being late and you’re nearly twenty minutes over. Even I’m not that bad,” JJ goads. “Could at least take it seriously, y’know? Ain’t Mr Sunn putting all his hopes and dreams on you or some shit?”

Your hands freeze in your tote bag, midway through unpacking yourself. Tears rush to your eyes and you panic, pressing them shut, begging for them to go away. Crying in front of somebody was one thing. Crying in front of JJ Maybank was another. Your teeth sink into your lower lip to keep it still. The tightness in your throat keeps growing, with that horrible lump and scratchy dryness. Come on, get it together. 

“Hello?” JJ asks impatiently. “You gonna do something or…?”

That’s the breaking point. 

The tears fall in fat, ugly drops as a shaky sob rattles out of you. And then it’s as if the floodgates have opened. You can only imagine the horrified look on JJ’s face as you sit and cry in an empty history classroom. You cry, and cry, and cry. When you’re not crying, you’re gasping for air, sniffing back the snot, wiping aggressively at your nose and your eyes and your cheeks. Every attempt to slow the sorrow seems to bring about a new wave of waterworks. Until, finally, it seems to ease up. 

“God, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you mutter, taking off your glasses and wiping furiously at your face. It’s red hot, mostly from embarrassment, and you blink up at the ceiling. “Shit, sorry. I don’t know why…Sorry.”

When you brave a look at JJ, you’re surprised to see no look of horror or humour. Instead, he’s frowning. He looks sympathetic, even. You can’t bare that expression. It feels as though people have looked at you like that for most of your life. Wiping at your wet cheeks, you take in a deep breath. With a violent sniffle, you return your glasses to your face, damp fingers trembling as they flick through the papers. 

“Where, uh…Where should we start?”

JJ mumbles your name. 

“Maybe Biology?”

He repeats it, slightly louder. You can’t stomach looking at him. 

“Or History?”

It’s with a stern voice, JJ has your attention. He holds your gaze unapologetically. Then, he’s glancing down at the papers in your hands, out the window to the spotless summer, and back at you. He nods, a decision apparently made, and gets to his feet. 

“A’right, come on,” he says. You blink at him. 

“Huh?”

“Come on, get up. We’re getting outta here.”

“What are you…JJ, no, you have a lesson. I need to teach you about…”

“Teach me it in the car,” JJ tells you, not waiting for you to finish your thought. He’s walking around the table into new territory. His extended hand is like an olive branch. You eye it as if it might be laced with arsenic. But when you look up at his face, the smile on his face is new. It’s friendly. Reassuring, even. Your still quivering hand out stretches to land in his. His palm is warm and slightly clammy. He helps you up from your seat. You shrug your tote bag up your shoulder and JJ releases your hand to gather up your papers. Holding them out, you return them to your bag, and then you’re blindly following JJ out of the classroom and down the corridors. 

His black shorts look like swim shorts. They end around the mid-thigh. His shirt is sticking to his back with a thin veil of sweat. It’s sweltering in Kildare County. You’re surprised by how attractive you find it. In your frantic fragility, you hadn’t realised JJ wasn’t wearing a cap. Instead, his blonde hair sat atop of his head, longer strands hanging slightly over his forehead. You think that’s the first time that you let yourself admit how attractive JJ Maybank is. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, picking up the pace to walk beside him. 

“The beach.”

“Why?” 

“Because,” JJ says, pushing open the door and holding it for you to step through, “it is officially the hottest day of summer,” the two of you make your way down the stairs, “you just had some weird, psycho freak-out,” you follow JJ to a brown, banged-up campervan, “and nature is the best healer.”

You can’t argue with much of anything he’s said, so you don’t. Instead, you walk around to the passenger side and climb into the van. It smells of seasalt, men’s cologne and remnants of cannabis. There’s empty beer cans at your feet that you kick out of the way. Crumpled up in-n-out paper stuffed into the wings of the door. JJ sighs as he drops into the driver’s seat. You watch as he brushes his hair from his face, fingers running easily through the locks. He turns the key in the ignition and his silver rings glint in the sunlight. The van rumbles to life, vibrating the seat, and JJ puts it in gear. 

“Wind down the window, would ya?” he asks, meeting your gaze. You nod and do as he asks. JJ does the same on his side, and then he’s putting the van into reverse, and soon enough you’re on an impromptu road trip with JJ Maybank. 

It’s difficult not to look at him. He’s so different from the guy you’ve been trying to tutor for the past two weeks. He’s also different from the image you’d built in your head of him. Some suave, ladykiller. Cruel, phony, dismissive. In the bright glow of sunlight, he’s rather gorgeous. His arm is propped on the window ledge. The wind brushes at his hair. His fingers tap on the steering wheel rhythmically with the beat of whatever song is playing from the stereo. Scared to get caught staring, you turn and watch the view out the window. JJ was right: you needed this. It’s hard to find excuses to relax and have fun when your mom and Leo need you so badly at home. Any time spent just for you without any benefit behind it feels selfish. But this was like a ‘get out of jail free’ card. An excuse dressed up in combat boots and dreamy muscles. 

There’s no conversation made as the two of you drive. It isn’t uncomfortable, though. It feels strangely natural, sitting side-by-side in shared silence. When the shoreline comes into view, you’re weirdly disappointed that the journey is over so soon. JJ parks and gets out with a ‘come on’ that has you following. You linger and look around as JJ digs about in the back of the van. He’s proud as punch when he emerges with two cans of seltzer and a towel (you don’t want to know the last time it was washed, if ever). The waves sound delicious in their susurrus against the sand as the two of you walk through the sand dunes. It was fairly busy: people surfing, others lounging with music playing from speakers, children playing volleyball. Girls lay on their fronts and backs, reading, tanning, relaxing. Guys bob their heads to the music and watch people dip in and out of the waves on their boards, nodding in approval. Seabirds call out afar and crickets chirp in the reeds. You feel like you’ve taken your first breath of fresh air in years. 

“Here seems good, huh?” JJ says, slowing near a more secluded patch of beach. You nod. He lays out the towel horizontally, leaving space for you to both sit side by side. JJ smells like sunscreen and cologne and a touch of sweat. The crisp cracking of cans opens the conversation. “Cheers.”

Your can tinks against his. You have a sip. It’s tangy and refreshing as you swallow. Toeing off your trainers and socks, you sink your feet into the hot grains of sand. JJ copies. The two of you lean back and lounge. 

“So,” JJ says. The two of you turn to look at one another. “You feeling okay?”

Laughing, you shake your head and have another sip of your drink. JJ grins. Looking out to the water, you sigh as you reply, “I was just overwhelmed. Sorry ‘bout the…y’know…”

“Snot?”

You laugh, facing him again. “Yeah. And the tears.”

“I was a little freaked out, I’m not gonna lie,” JJ tells you mirthfully, making you laugh more. 

“Mhm. Same here.” The two of you sit in a jovial lull for a moment until you feel the need to clarify, “I promise that isn’t a usual occurrence.”

Laughing, JJ nods. “Yeah, well, did seem out of character. Used to you giving me hell for…Well, shit, for anything.”

“You make it pretty easy to do that, in my defense,” you grin. JJ cringes, rocking his head as if to say ‘is that true?’ “Mr Sunn said something ‘bout you wanting to take the tutoring more seriously?”

“Damn, news travels fast here,” JJ mutters, making you smile. 

“For the record: you were right.”

“That’s rare.”

“I bet,” you snigger. JJ shoves your shoulder and you giggle. “But, you were. I didn’t have any right making any assumptions about your life. Your fortune, as you said.”

“Nah, don’t take it personally,” JJ says, dropping his head slightly. He swings his can between two fingers. “I’m a dick when I’m hungover.”

“You hungover all the time then or…?”

“Damn, mama! I’m tryn’a make amends here!”

The two of you share a laugh. It sinks away like footprints on sand. Nodding your head, you hold his gaze as you smile. 

“Well, we could start fresh.”

“I’m down.”

“Hey - to new beginnings,” you announce, holding up your can. JJ smiles at you, nods, and clinks his can against yours. The two of you have a drink. A kid races across the beach in front of you, chasing a stray soccer ball. “Can’t remember the last time I came to the beach.”

“Really? I go all the time,” JJ replies. 

“My parents used to take us on picnics here every Sunday,” you say, smiling to yourself. You watch the little boy return to his sister. She takes the ball from him and they continue their game. The smile changes. “We stopped going after my brother was born, though.”

“How come?”

You swallow. Remembering yourself, you blink out of your thoughts and flash JJ a smile. “Just new routines, I guess.”

Nodding, JJ digs about in his pocket as he talks, “me and my friends surf a lot so we’re at the beach most of the time, really. John B lives right near the marsh though so sometimes we just go out on the boat, y’know?”

You watch as he retrieves a small metal tin. He opens it to reveal a joint and lighter. Instinctively, your eyebrows raise slightly. His eyes flash to yours and he falters. “D’you mind?”

“No, no, uh…Go for it,” you say, gesturing lamely to his blunt. He doesn’t hesitate as he brings it to his lips, guarding the flame for the breeze with a cup of his hand. The smell is fruity and poignant when he takes a few starting drags. You watch the ash building on the end as if mesmerised by fire, like you’re some kind of cave person. Then you realise JJ’s offering it to you. “Oh, um…I’m good. Thanks, though.”

JJ takes another hit. “You smoke before?” You give him a look of ‘what do you think?’ JJ coughs out his vapour with a laugh. “You wanna try?”

“Um…” You hesitate, eyeing up the joint. “I don’t know. What’s it feel like?”

“Depends,” JJ replies. “Usually makes you feel relaxed. Less aware of yourself. Loosens up your shoulders, calms you down, that kind of thing. Can make you laugh too. Hungry. Talkative. Pope on weed - Jesus Christ - you should see him. It’s like he took speed or something. He won’t shut the hell up, for once.”

You smile, having a vague memory of Pope. You went head to head with him at a spelling bee back in Middle School. He always seemed like a nice guy. Intelligent, too; he definitely gave you a run for your money that day. 

“Can you have a bad trip?” you wonder, curious. JJ shrugs. 

“Sometimes. I’ve only had a couple. Mostly depends on what state of mind you’re in before you take it, or if it’s a bad batch. Smoking’s the best way to start, though. You stop smoking and it’s out of your system a faster than if you have an edible. With an edible, you’re in it for the ride, y’know?”

“Hm,” you hum in deliberation. 

“It’s safe. I mean, it’s legal in a bunch of places now,” JJ reassures. 

Snorting, you say, “that means nothing! Cigarettes are legal too, don’t stop them from giving you cancer.”

Rolling his eyes, amused, JJ replies, “can you just not overthink everything for one second? Look, I ain’t gonna pressure you into anything, but I think it could help. Especially if you’re feeling a bit overwhelmed, like you said.”

He doesn’t press it any further and you don’t ask more questions. The two of you sit for a couple minutes before you find yourself reaching out to take the joint. JJ’s happy to oblige. You bring it to your lips, heart beating nervously in your chest, and you hesitate. Looking at him, you ask, “how’d I do this, again?”

“Just bring it up and inhale,” he says, mimicking for you. “Try and hold it in for a bit and then exhale. Don’t freak if you cough. Most people do, first time.”

Murmuring an ‘okay’, you swallow your anxieties before following JJ’s instructions. The air gets caught in your lungs and throat and you splutter out a cough. JJ laughs lightly as you do and you flip him off, smiling despite your hacking. Once it’s passed, you take a few more drags, getting better with every attempt. 

“Now what?” You ask, handing it back. “Should I feel something?”

Laughing, JJ leans back on his elbows. “Relax. You’ll start to feel it in a minute. Might need a few more hits.”

“Alright,” you say. You shadow his posture. A thought occurs that has you giggling. JJ quirks a brow, curious. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just…I’ve only ever had, like, one glass of wine at Christmas and Thanksgiving. Just a bit new.”

“Aw, man, don’t say that,” JJ groans, tossing his head back. “That makes it sound like I corrupted your ass or some shit.”

Sniggering, you can’t help but glance at him and tease, “maybe you did.”

The look JJ returns hits somewhere new inside of you. 

Turning to your bag, you dig for your bottle of water. Leo’s toy car tumbles out onto the sand. “Shit,” you mutter, picking up and dusting off the grains. 

“What’s that?” JJ asks. 

You turn and show him the broken car. He takes it from you and studies it as you tell him, “it’s my little brother’s. He was asking me to fix it but I don’t even know where to start with that kind of thing. It’s meant to move, see?”

JJ nods, looking at the motor you point to. He turns it over in his hands, inspects some parts, before announcing, “I can fix this.”

“What?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s pretty simple, really. Just need to fix this part here,” he points at somewhere on the car, “and then change out the batteries, glue a few things, and should be good as new.”

“For real?”

“Sure,” JJ shrugs. He smiles at you. His eyes are blue, decorated with green flecks. You smile back. A fuzzy feeling builds in your chest. Your eyes dart down to his lips. They probably taste like seltzer and cannabis. He probably tastes like seltzer and cannabis. 

A scream has you both jumping, drawing your attention away from JJ. You look across the beach to find a kid screeching with laughter, screaming as their dad chases them through the wake of the water. You smile. In your peripheral, you see JJ smiling too. Maybe you had him wrong. Maybe the two of you can actually get along. Perhaps even be friends, of sorts. 

As the rest of the day stretches on, you and JJ pass stories and tell jokes. You churn up hilarious theories and stories about fellow beach goers as you smoke your way through his joint. The weed takes effect after a few minutes of smoking, like promised, and you get the giggles over something JJ says. You like his laugh. It’s bright and youthful, yet still somehow raspy. He gets rather philosophical when he’s high. Starts spewing ideas about the universe and fate and plans. That opens up a path to talk about daydreams and castles in the air. Fantasies of lives with high grossing jobs and Kook-sized homes and vacations every month. As the hours pass by and the topics come and go, you find yourself free from thoughts of studying and cleaning and cooking and caring for others outside of yourself. You find yourself present and in the moment for maybe the first time ever. That to say, when JJ eventually drives you home, the sun finally beginning to set, your heart deflates with the thought that the day is almost over. That you’re going to have to get out of the car and say goodbye to him, even if it’s for a week. 

The Sixth Lesson

JJ never thought that the day might come when he enjoys school. However, whenever Wednesday rolls around, this wave of energy washes over him, putting some pep in his steps like he’s in a Saturday special. Mr Sunn’s classroom had become this sanctuary; this garden of Eden that only you and JJ knew about. You had this way of explaining things that made it click for JJ. It was if you were a translator, taking complex terms and working them into analogies that fit into JJ’s head. You showed him tricks to keep notes which saved his paper from becoming a  stressful, confusing mess of scribbles. You recognised his need for taking breaks, splitting up sessions with stories, taking the chance to show him memes that your friend Esme had sent you. There was a sweetness to you, underneath the bossy, business-like exterior JJ was first met with. And with that sweetness came JJ’s sudden realisation that you’re really fucking beautiful. 

He’s not sure why he didn’t notice it at first. Maybe he did, but he didn’t want to acknowledge it. He was too busy cursing you for taking up his summer vacation. But now that’s noticed, he can’t unsee it. It’s like watching a movie and realising your favourite actor is in it; they take all the attention. And you took most of JJ’s, during your tutor sessions. He’d steal glances when he was reading through worksheets or filling pop quizzes. Snippets of your head bent forward, reading, your glasses slowly slipping down your nose until you push them back up. Glasses suited you. Framed your cherub face. Your laugh was melodic; tuneful like you were singing. But your lips might have been JJ’s favourite thing about you. You’d gnaw at them, chewing on them when you concentrated. You’d pamper them with lip gloss and balm, making them taste like strawberry or raspberry or cherry cola. A flavour JJ dreamt of licking off. On the downside, it made his already ADHD-ridden mind even harder to concentrate on the work. 

“You done?”

“Hm?”

“You finished with the quiz?” you ask, nodding down to his papers. You’d caught him looking at you and assumed he was finished. 

“Almost,” JJ says, glancing back at his answers to remind himself where he was. “Kinda stuck on this one though.”

“Which one?” you wonder, leaning across the table to have a look. JJ points at it and does his best to look at your face and not your cleavage as you read the question. But he has to steal a glance. Fuck. You smell fucking delectable. In a truly desperate and pathetic strain of thought, he considers asking what perfume you wear so he could spray his pillows with it. Jesus Christ, get a grip. It’s terrifying, the hold you have on him by doing so little. It’s like you have a voodoo doll stashed in your tote bag; potions that you drip into his water. It’s the only explanation. JJ Maybank has never been pussy whipped for a pussy that he hasn’t even seen. I guess you really do learn stuff at school. 

“Okay, so,” you say, sitting back in your seat.  You push your glasses up your nose: it’s adorable. “You remember learning about adaptation, right? Like how animals change themselves–”

“--to fit in with their environment and survive, yeah,” JJ finishes, surprising himself with how easily he plucks that knowledge from his memory. Your smile is beautiful, full of pride. 

“Right. Exactly. So, if you think about a camel - like the question says, yeah? - and where they live, why would they need to store water in their humps?”

JJ looks down at the paper and reviews the picture of the camel. “They live in the desert,” he thinks aloud, watching you nod in her peripheral vision, “so there’s not much water. So they need to store water so they don’t become…thirsty?”

“Another word for thirsty?”

“Dehydrated?”

“Yes!” you grin. “Yes, that’s it.”

JJ laughs despite himself, shaking his head as he writes the answer down. “Never thought there’d be a day when I’m actually decent at school but here we are.”

“Well, never thought there’d be a day when I smoke a joint,” you counter teasingly. JJ flashes you his smile. “Alright, come on. We got ten more minutes. Finish the quiz.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it, brown nose,” JJ mutters, sniggering when you flip him off. He fills in another answer before stealing another glance. You’re reading. Focusing intently on the page, knees brought up near your chest, book resting on the back of your thighs. “How’s the book?”

You look at him, visibly debate telling him to focus on his work, before answering. “It’s good. It’s the third in the series.”

“What’s it about?”

“It’s a fantasy. The usual stuff: witches and elves and stuff like that. Dragons, sometimes.”

“Fancy,” JJ mumbles, returning his attention to the paper. “Read something out-loud from it.”

You don’t say anything. Frowning, JJ’s eyes dart up to you. You’re staring at the page, clearly not reading. He starts to smirk, bemused. “What? Why don’t you read something?”

“It’s just, uh…Pretty boring, y’know?”

“Mhm,” JJ hums, unconvinced. He waits until you’re distracted before he quickly swipes the book from out of your hands. You shriek, jumping out of your seat. 

“Give it back, JJ! Give it!”

“Come on! Just wanna see what you’re reading!” 

“No!” you screech, chasing after him. The two of you perform some sort of dance around the tables of the classroom, white walls bright in the sunlight streaming through the wall of windows. JJ steps up onto one of the cabinets and holds the book high above his head, open on the page so he can read. You helplessly hop up and down below him, trying to swipe it from him. Through his laughter, it takes a moment to stop shaking and focus on the words. JJ begins to read. Then his eyebrows raise so high he’s surprised they don’t fly off his forehead. 

“Holy shit!” he sniggers. 

“JJ! Give me the book now, Goddamnit,” you demand, returning to the version he knew of you from week one. 

He loses control a little when he comes, his grunts deep and unusually rough, his grip viselike, and she feels his orgasm course through her as if it were her own. She sucks him gently through the end of it, and when she looks up at him she’s wet and swollen and she feels empty, trembling, a messy lump on the floor. 

“Open your mouth,” he rasps. 

She blinks up at him, confused. He cups her cheek. 

“I want you to open your mouth and show me.”

She complies, and the sound he makes, possessive and hungry and pleased at last, travels through her like a wave. He massages the back of her neck while she swallows, his thumb caressing her jaw, and when she smiles up–

The book is suddenly ripped from JJ’s hands. He’s in hysterics, doubling over, grabbing at his knees. 

“Holy shit! That’s insane, I had no idea people wrote shit like that,” he manages out through gasps of air. But when he looks at you, his humour quickly fizzles out. You’re closing the book, eyes downcast, visibly upset. “Hey, shit, I was just messing around, okay? I didn’t mean to–”

You turn and walk back to your bag, shoving the book inside of it. JJ jumps down and follows, grabbing your wrist to get your attention. You reluctantly look up at him. Tears tease your waterline. Shit. 

“Hey,” he says, voice soft, “I’m sorry. I was just messing ‘round. I just didn’t think books had stuff like that in them.”

“Yeah, well, they do,” you say, tugging your arm free and crossing them over your chest. “Didn’t have to be a douchebag ‘bout it.”

“That’s fair,” JJ hums, nodding. “M’sorry. Is it, uh…Is it good? Y’know? Book-porn?”

That has your lips quirking upwards. He smiles too. Rolling your eyes, you mumble, “it’s pretty good, yeah.”

“Yeah? I mean, seems pretty detailed,” JJ remarks, recalling the paragraph he read. You laugh quietly, shrugging. 

“It is. That’s what girls like ‘bout it, y’know? It’s more focused on the girl. About her…y’know, pleasure and stuff.”

JJ hums, thinking. It seems like more work to him than just putting on porn or even finding someone to hook up with, but considering what he’s learnt about you, it makes sense that you prefer it. As the two of you return to your respective seats, and JJ returns to his quiz, his mind can’t help but wander. Did you have a boyfriend? A girlfriend? Did you hook-up with people whenever you felt like it, like he did, or were you a one-person kind of girl? Were you a virgin? JJ warily lets his eyes wash over you. You’ve given up on reading and are now scribbling on some print-out, probably preparing next week’s class. Your head is propped up in one hand, the end of the pencil pressed against your lips. His eyes trail down your face, over your chest, lingering. It was hard to get a read on you. He felt like you were either one of two extremes: a virgin, perhaps never been kissed, or a hardcore freak. He wasn’t sure which he liked more. Probably both. Either. Any. If JJ had his chance with you though…Holy shit. He wouldn’t let you out of bed for hours. He’d show you things you didn’t know, make you feel things that you’d only ever read about and daydreamed in the darkness of your bedroom. He’d have you screaming, close to tears, desperate to come again and again and–

“That’s time.”

JJ quickly focuses on the page, reads the last question, and ticks a random box. Clearing his throat, washing his thoughts away down the gutter, he sits back in his seat. You take the test from him and read over it. JJ watches you nervously, teeth nibbling at his lips, as you start to mark. For the first time in his life, he cares about this quiz. It isn’t a mock exam, doesn’t hold any real weight, but he’d like some proof that maybe he’s worth a shit. Maybe his brain isn’t a complete waste of space in his skull. Maybe, just maybe, JJ might be smart. 

“Jury’s in,” you say, a mischievous glint in your eyes. You hold the paper back out to him, face down, and JJ eyes it nervously. “Go on.”

Sighing, he takes it and flips it over. His eyes quickly scan over the ticks and cross before honing in on the numbers outlined in a neat red circle. His lips part. “Eight out of ten?”

“Yep.”

“Eight out of ten?” he checks, meeting your eyes. 

“Well, if you want to be really harsh with yourself, it’s more like 7.5 because I gave you that hint with the adaptation-camel thing, but everything else was all you,” you smile, nodding. 

JJ can’t help but laugh in disbelief. He feels like he just passed his SATs. And if it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t have gotten hardly one answer right. He wouldn’t have even tried. As if reading his mind, you gently remark, “you’re smarter than you think, JJ. Just gotta believe in yourself.”

“That’s the corniest shit you’ve ever said,” JJ snorts. But the look he gives you speaks volumes. Speaks of his thanks. You smile back, pretty like a magnolia in May, and JJ is petrified by the way his heart yearns. 

The First Warning 

“Whose turn is it?”

“Who’d you think?”

“Girl, she’s barely looked away from her phone.”

“Yo!”

Fingers snap in front of your face. You jump then frown at Esme. “The hell was that for?”

“It’s your turn, dipshit,” she playful replies, rolling her eyes. 

“Oh. Sorry,” you mutter, turning off your phone. You ditch it beside you on the sofa and lean forward, grabbing the dice. They clatter against the vinyl board, bouncing over colourful squares and claimed buildings. “Alright, seven.” 

As you move your counter around the Monopoly board, your phone buzzes with another message. Eyes drifting over to the screen, your lips instinctively twitch when you read JJ’s name. Esme narrows her eyes at you in suspicion and, quick as a cat, grabs for your phone. 

“Esme! Give it!”

“Who are you texting so much?” she wonders. Lily and Palma giggle, scooching in to gather around the screen. You roll your eyes. These were your closest friends, you didn’t much mind if they found out - which they were bound to, considering Esme knew your passcode. Her voice isn’t particularly happy when she asks, “JJ?”

Rolling your eyes, you take your phone back and scan over the messages. 

“Oh no.”

You look over the top of your phone and meet Esme’s eyes. You know that look. “Esme, it’s not like that.”

“You like him.”

“Esme–”

“You have a crush on JJ Maybank,” she announces. Lily and Palma gasp like they’re in a courtroom drama. 

Shaking your head, you laugh as you say, “can you not use the word ‘crush’? Makes us sound like we’re in junior high.”

“Girl, this is serious,” Esme warns, shifting on the sofa so she’s facing you head on. “This is JJ Maybank we’re talking about here. Need I remind you who he is?”

“Fuckboy?” Lily offers. 

“Asshole,” Palma chimes in. 

“How about surprisingly nice person who is also really freaking hot?” you give as a rebuttal. 

“Are we forgetting what he did to you?” Esme wonders, genuinely alarmed by your change of tune. “I mean, not more than a month ago he was enemy number one and now, what? You’re sending him cute little dad-jokes?”

“He’s not like what I thought, a’right? He’s actually pretty sweet,” you meekly reply. 

“Wait, what did he do to you?” Lily asks, frowning. 

You roll your eyes. “Literally nothing.”

“Nothing? You cried in the bathroom stalls for, like, twenty minutes!”

“It was ten minutes, and that was over a year ago,” you argue. “Jesus, you’re acting like he skinned my cat or something.”

��Hello!” Palma interrupts, throwing up her arms. Her cornrows sway off her shoulders as she asks, “are either of you going to tell me and Lily what he did?”

Sighing, you force yourself back to English class last year. 

“I’ve got to say, guys. Not your finest hour,” the teacher, Mrs Halls, remarks as she paces the aisles of the classroom. You chew nervously on your lower lip. You’d spent hours studying for this test; even pulled an all nighter just to cram in as much content as possible. You’ve read Romeo and Juliet enough times to recount almost every line. Recited the sonnets in your sleep as if you’d written them yourself. 

As she makes her way between the desks, your foot thrums against the vinyl flooring. To your left, she delivers a quiz paper onto a desk. JJ Maybank’s desk. He was hardly ever in class. Sometimes he’d get up and leave halfway through and not bother coming back. You’d never shared a word. 

“Poor work, Mr Maybank. I want you to see me after class,” Mrs Halls berates. JJ tugs off his cap and runs his fingers through his hair, huffing, rocking back in his seat. 

Then, your test sheet is returned to you. “Nice job. Top of the class - as always,” Mrs Halls tells you proudly, finishing with a wink. You smile, relieved, satisfied, and look back down at the neat A+ staring up at you. But your joy is short lived. JJ snorts, scoffs more like, and you glance over at him. 

“Fuckin’ virgin.”

The girl behind him overhears, as does the boy in front, and they both snigger underbreath. Your face burns hot and your eyes dart back down to your paper, head hanging with shame. Tears sting your eyes and you try desperately not to let them fall. And they don’t, at least not until you’re out of class and in the bathrooms with Esme. 

Lily and Palma’s sympathy is palpable. You roll your eyes. “Look, who cares? He was probably pissed with himself and took it out on someone else.”

“Oh, yeah, so I really want you to catch feelings for a guy like that - y’know, now that you’ve put it that way,” Esme sardonically replies. 

Sighing, you reach out and meddle with your game token. “I’m not stupid, okay? I don’t like JJ like that. There’s no point. So, you don’t gotta worry ‘bout anything.”

Guys like JJ Maybank did not go out with girls like you. It was as simple as the alphabet. The maths was easy: he was a commitment-phobe, heartthrob with a craving for adrenaline and adventure; and you were a rule-abiding, goody-two-shoes with an affinity for a good book and cup of tea. Hell, you’d smoked your first joint for the first time a few weeks ago and had your first casual drink outside of a holiday celebration. Skipping class was practically a religion to JJ whereas just the thought made you feel sick. The two of you were opposites, and whilst it might be true for magnets, the world of romance was quite a different story. It may attract, but that doesn’t mean it’s viable. 

But despite the logic, you knew you were lying. You had fallen for him, hard and fast. How could you not? He was funny and charming and attractive. He had a tenderness that he hid beneath the surface, like a tortoise cocooned in a shell. There was a sweetness to JJ, the kind that made the memory of his cruel remark feel false. But Esme’s disapproval and your own insecurity were poignant. You don’t text JJ back for the rest of the night. 

The Ninth Lesson

Since that day on the beach, you have never been late for another tutoring session. Now that JJ had made friends with you, if either of you were running late, you’d send a text message and the whole thing would be put to rest. That to say, when you were late to the session by an entire hour, JJ knew something must be wrong. You hadn’t replied to a single message he’d sent. Forgetting things was not your style, especially your tutoring sessions with JJ. He hadn’t outright asked, but something told the blonde haired boy that you enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed yours. He wasn’t blind. He’d seen you taking peaks at him during the lessons the same way he did with you. As arrogant as he could be with his looks, JJ knew you weren’t like the others girls who fell at his feet. You were complex, contradicting, and chemical. 

The debate to go to your house is brief in JJ’s head. He’s given you several rides home after tutoring. The drive was always something he looked forward to, as well. You had a similar taste in music and the conversation flowed like a fresh water spring. It’s starting to feel second nature when JJ takes a left onto your street. You don’t live in Figure Eight but it’s a nicer area than where JJ resides. Somewhat of a middle ground, your neighbourhood is something of a suburban dreamscape. Children play in the streets and some front lawns even have sprinklers, when the drought isn’t around. 

JJ parks outside your door and sighs, checking his appearance in the rearview mirror. He fixes his hair under his cap and checks his teeth. God knows when that started becoming a habit. Then he’s hopping out the Twinkie and wandering up to your front door, hands in pockets. He raps gently on the red painted wood and waits patiently. He glances up and down the street and rocks on his heels. The door swings open and JJ turns, jumping into his introduction before he has a chance to see who it is. 

“Hey, I was wonderin’–” When he comes face to face with nothing, his head tilts down to find a little boy looking up at him. JJ’s breath catches in his throat. The child’s face is disfigured. It isn’t ugly and it isn’t horrifying in any way, but it is enough to notice. Enough to have a person take pause. JJ tries not to stare at the strange patching of skin and the protrusions of flesh. Instead, he ducks down so they’re more level at the eye. “Hey little buddy. Your sister home?”

He’s visibly nervous. “My sissy?”

“Yeah. Your sissy home?”

“Mhm,” he nods. He glances behind him, down the hallway, then back to JJ. “Are you her boyfriend?”

JJ eyes widen slightly. “Oh, uh, nah, little dude. Just someone she’s helping out.”

“Oh.”

“Hey, could you do me a solid, little man, and go get her for me?” JJ wonders. The little boy studies him for a moment. His eyes don’t seem to focus, one tracking a little slower than the other. JJ waits patiently. 

“Why aren’t you her boyfriend?”

“Well, that’s a pretty long story,” JJ chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Are you a surfer?” With that, the little boy points at JJ’s t-shirt. It’s one of his graphic tees from a local surf shop in town. Grinning, JJ nods. 

“Yeah, I sure am. Are you a surfer?”

“Sissy won’t let me,” he replies through mumbled words. He rubs at his arm, one hand still holding tight to the door handle. “Says it’s dangerous.”

“It can be,” JJ replies. “Pretty dope though. I bet you’d make a cool surfer.”

“Leo, I’ve told you before to pick up your toys when you’re finished playing!” Your voice comes from some far room in the house. JJ glances over (what must be) Leo’s shoulder to spot you walking into frame. You look pretty frazzled, clearly working through some sort of mental checklist. “Leo?”

“Here, sissy,” Leo calls back. Your head turns and you notice your brother first, then the open door, and then JJ. Visibly startled, your lips part. Hurrying over, you lay a protective hand on your brother’s head, taking the door in your hand. 

“JJ. What are you doing here?”

“You, uh, didn’t come to the school so I wanted to check you were a’right,” JJ explains, raising back to his full height. “Little dude here said you were home so…”

“Sissy,” Leo says, tugging on your t-shirt. You glance down at him and this smile comes over your face that reminds JJ of a warm blanket. “Is this your boyfriend?”

“Oh, uh,” you’re flustered, glancing quickly at JJ before returning your focus to your brother. “No, honey. This is just, uh, a friend that I’ve been tutoring.”

“Oh,” Leo says. He tugs at your shirt again. “Sissy?”

“Yes, Leo,” you say with undying patience. 

“You should ask him to be your boyfriend,” Leo tells you. The two of you manage to hold back your laughs. 

“Really? Why’s that?”

“He’s a surfer. Said I could be a surfer too,” Leo says. 

“Oh did he now?” you wonder, looking up at JJ. He smiles apologetically. Oops. Shaking your head, you recall what JJ said prior to Leo’s interruption. “Wait, what’d you mean I wasn’t at school? Class isn’t ‘til one.”

“Yeah…It’s nearly three in the afternoon, now.”

Alarmed, you grab at your phone and groan. It’s dead. JJ shows you his. Your horror is borderline hilarious. “Shit, I’m so sorry, I don’t even…God, I just lost track of time. Um…Come in, actually. Come in.”

You and Leo make space for JJ to walk through the doorway. He closes it behind him. Leo grabs quickly at JJ’s shirt and pulls him with surprising strength through the hallway and into the living room. 

“Look, look!” Leo exclaims, grabbing at any and all toys in sight. One is familiar to JJ when he takes it in his hand. It’s the toy car he fixed for him. His eyes drift to yours to find you watching everything unfold with a strange expression on your face. Something tells JJ that this is a little overwhelming for you. He’s amicable when he places the car back down on the floor. 

“Listen, little dude, those are some sick-ass toys. But I really need to start this lesson with your sister, huh? Maybe we could play some other time?”

“Teach me to surf,” Leo seemingly demands. Your face falls. 

“Leo, honey, we’re not learning to surf today,” you gently say. 

Leo looks between yourself and JJ and his face begins to contort. His lips tremble and your eyes slant with concern. His fists clench at his sides and he stamps his feet. 

“Teach me to surf! Teach me to surf! I want to surf!” Leo shouts. His hands begin to thump against the sides of his head and you rush over, dropping to your knees. 

“JJ, can you wait in the kitchen please?” 

JJ does as he’s asked, quickly leaving the room, overhearing your pleading with your little brother. Through the muffled door, he can follow some of the conversation despite his trying not to. He occupies himself by looking at pictures on the wall and on the fridge. A drawing that Leo must have done - of him on a surfboard - and a picture of you and him from Christmas. You look sweet like cinnamon in your reindeer pyjamas. There’s an impressive collection of report cards and certificates and rewards, all addressed to you. A framed photo on the wall has JJ taking pause. The man in the frame is striking in similarity to you. He’s dressed in army formals, staring stoically ahead before a grey background. The ones around it are more casual. A family vacation. You in the marching band (so he was right, you did used to do that). The infamous spelling bee victory. 

“How ‘bout this: tomorrow, me and you go to the beach together, huh? Sound fair?” your voice creeps through the walls. 

“Sissy take me to the beach tomorrow?” 

“Yes. Sissy take you to the beach tomorrow,” you say. The relief is evident in your voice. JJ cracks the kitchen door open, sensing an end to the conversation. “How ‘bout you tidy up your toys whilst I hang out with my friend, hm? Sound fair?”

“M’kay.”

“Gimme a hug.”

JJ catches your embrace through the crack of the half-closed door. He smiles to himself. He’s never seen this version of you. It’s like you’ve transformed into a different person. When you reappear in the hallway, closing the door behind you, it’s as if you struggle to meet JJ’s eyes. 

“Come on, we can study upstairs,” you say, leading the way. 

Your bedroom is not how JJ imagined it. Parts of it are - the Jellycats and the candles and the motivational quotes on the wall - but he’s startled by how little possessions you have. There’s not a lot of books, like he was expecting, and your bed is simple with a duvet and two pillows. Your desk is a mess: papers and pens and highlighters and sticky notes. JJ closes the door behind him as you clear some clothes off your bed. 

“Sorry I forgot,” you say as you clean. “I had to sort out Leo’s dinner and he’s decided that he doesn’t like pizza now, he only likes dinosaur nuggets. And they have to be dinosaur shaped, or else all hell breaks loose. And then the laundry needed doing cause my mom needs her scrubs and–”

You stand upright and sigh, bringing your hands to your face. If JJ wasn’t in your family home, he’d offer you a joint. Instead, he stands and waits, unsure whether he should hug you or not. You haven’t crossed that line yet, although somehow standing in your bedroom feels miles more intimate. Another steadying breath and you’re pulling your hands from your face, fixing your glasses. 

“Thanks, by the way.”

“For what?” JJ frowns. 

“Y’know. For being nice to Leo,” you reply, gesturing to your door. 

JJ’s frown deepens. “Course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just sometimes people can be…” You shake your head, drop onto your bed, and sigh loudly. “Assholes. They can be real assholes. Kids especially. Which, fair enough, they’re kids, but come on.”

JJ chuckles quietly. He sits beside you on your bed, sinking into the plush comforter. “He’s a cool kid. And I honestly don’t mind teaching him to surf. Might be cool to have a little apprentice.”

You laugh at that, smiling at him. “A little protege?” 

“Sure,” JJ shrugs, not fully knowing what that word means. He wants to tell you how pretty you look right now, despite being a little flustered from rushing around. You’re clearly busy. Busy in a way JJ didn’t know about and could never relate to. The question catches in his throat. It doesn’t feel appropriate to ask but it’s hard to keep it at bay for long. “Can I ask…What…What is it?”

You take a small breath before replying, looking down at your hands. “It’s a few things, really. Doctors aren’t even sure they can give it one name. He’s neurodivergent, so he likes routine and familiarity. Emotions are pretty big for him. They can be hard to manage. He’s getting better at compromise, though, which is nice. Uh…There’s also something developmental there. He’s nine, but he acts more like he’s seven, and his language is more at that stage too. He’s smart though. Really bright. The kids at school aren’t always so nice so sometimes I give him lessons, to help, y’know, bridge those gaps.”

JJ listens intently, nodding. Rolling your shoulders back, you let out a relieved sigh. He wonders if you’ve ever spoken to someone about this stuff before. If you have someone to lean on, vent to. He imagines Esme might fill that role to some degree. 

“The physical stuff…That’s because of a gene. Well, two genes, that my mom and dad both had, and it was luck of the draw. In another life, in another world, I would look like him. He had a shitton of surgery when he was little so he could breathe better, talk better, look better. Some helped home with mobility too. His tongue, uh…was too big for his mouth? They had to sort of…reduce it? It was a rough few years. Mom had to pick up extra shifts to get better health insurance and help cover the bills. My dad was in the forces and he’s deployed a lot. He is right now, in fact. I guess I learnt how to grow up fast.”

You laugh despite yourself, shaking your head, and meet JJ’s eyes. “I feel like I’m five different people. Sometimes more. I have to be the sister, and the daughter, and the mom, at times. I have to be the best friend and the star student. And then, I have to be the teenager. Even though most of the time I feel like a mini adult, trying to keep everything in order. I don’t know, maybe that’s why I’m so neurotic. Shit, I’m probably a psyche major’s dream case study.”

JJ laughs along with you but the words hang heavy in the air and in his heart. He could relate, though, to some of it. “I get it.”

“You don’t have to say that,” you solemnly reply, smiling sadly. 

JJ shakes his head. “No, I really get it. A bit, anyway. Having to grow up fast. Being different people.”

It feels empty to leave it at that, like faux empathy to defuse an awkward situation. Sighing, JJ’s fingers meddle with a stray thread on your duvet cover. “My dad’s in and out of trouble a lot. Jailtime and stuff, y’know? I learnt pretty fast that if I didn’t wanna go hungry, I gotta fend for myself more. Started working. Started stealing. Just had to survive, right?”

You nod sadly. ‘I’m sorry’ falls silently from your lips as you offer him a smile, and JJ’s heart drops down through his ribcage, into his stomach, because nobody has ever looked at him like that before. Looked at him as if they can see right through him. Through the facade and into his soul, into his mind. Look at him like they understand him. It’s terrifying. JJ’s throat feels tight and dry and his brain feels full. Butterflies tickle at his intestines as his eyes slowly, slowly, fall to your lips. It feels like a temptation when your tongue darts out to wet them, your teeth rolling over your lower lip, and he wonders what lip balm you’re wearing today. He wonders what you’ll taste like. 

JJ isn’t sure which one of you begins to move first, but soon enough, he can feel your breath on his lips. When his mouth presses to yours, his eyes sink shut and his heart nearly explodes from how fast it’s beating. Your fingers slip over the top of his hand as if holding him in place, keeping him close. JJ’s head tilts and so does yours, and you deepen the kiss. You taste like cherry cola. Cherry cola and lemonade. You sigh against him and one of JJ’s hands comes up to your cheek, fingers tracing the soft skin before cupping your jaw, guiding your movements with his. Your own hand creeps further up his hand, along his arm, until it’s looping over his shoulder, keeping him near. It’s sighs and hums and pure, simple pleasure as the two of you make-out. It’s never like this. Never this patient, exploring, wading through the waters, finding out what little move makes the other person react. The brush of teeth on lower lips, the shadow of tongues dancing against one another. JJ’s used to fast and fiery, rushing to get to the next part. This, right here, feels like JJ could kiss you forever and never once grow tired. 

The two of you are so consumed in one another that neither hears your mothers voice down the hall. It isn’t until a floorboard creaks just outside your door that you’re springing away from him, wide eyed. JJ’s still in a daze when the door swings open. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and JJ strategically sits so his crotch isn’t in view. 

“Honey have you–” Your mom’s words die on her tongue. JJ musters up some courage to look over to the doorway to find a blank expression on her face. “You’re not one of my kids.”

“No, uh, mom this is the guy I was telling you about. The guy that I’m tutoring, I mean,” you stumble through your words, gesturing to JJ. He gives a nod and tense smile. 

“Hiya, ma’am.”

“Ugh, don’t call me ma’am when I’m not on duty,” your mom groans, rubbing tiredly at her forehead. You chuckle and JJ realises it’s a joke, faking a laugh of his own. Then her eyes narrow as she looks between the two of you. “Tutoring, huh?”

“Yeah, uh, your daughter’s been helping me get my grades up over the summer. Mr Sunn hired her, actually. It’s all legit,” JJ reels off. Her eyebrows raise. 

“Okay, well…Sure. If you say so,” she says. She doesn’t sound particularly convinced. Her eyes train back onto you. “What I was gonna ask was, did you wash my scrubs?”

“Yeah. They’re in the dryer right now. Should be good to go in an hour.”

“Perfect,” she sighs, relieved. “Oh, and Leo?”

“He’s had his dinner. I had to run to the shops cause I thought he liked the unicorn shaped nuggets but it’s actually the dinosaur shaped ones, and we didn’t have any of those.”

“Nuggets? I thought he liked pizza. Thought he hated nuggets?”

“No, no, he’s done a complete one-eighty. Decided yesterday that nuggets are the new meaning of life; pizza is out,” you explain with a too-cheery laugh. 

“You said you bought some? How much were they?” Your mom worries, but you brush her off. She rubs at her head and laughs self-deprecating. “Jeez, some mom I am, huh? Can’t even remember what my own kids like to eat.”

Before you can say anything, she’s plastering on a smile and reaching for the door handle. It seems as though she just woke up from a nap. “Alright, well, I’m gonna get ready for work. You kids, uh, have fun…studying.”

“Thanks mom,” you smile, nodding. 

She begins to close the door, but lingers when it’s a crack open. “And use protection.”

“Mom!” The door slams shut. Groaning, mortified, you drop your head in your hands. “Sorry ‘bout her.”

“She seems nice,” JJ chuckles. Shaking your head, you look up at him. 

“Don’t indulge her,” you say jokingly. The smiles linger on your faces as you look at one another. JJ wants to kiss you again. He’s not sure if he’s supposed to be able to think about anything else now that he knows what you taste like. Those fantasies are back, the ones he shoved down in a box, and he wants to fulfill all of them. But you’re back to your usual ways: duty-focused. Getting to your feet, you slap your hands together. “Alright! Lesson time! Let’s start with…Romeo and Juliet.”

“Are you going to the kegger on Friday?” JJ asks out of the blue. 

You look over to him from your desk, where you’re flitting through the impressive stack of papers. “Kegger? What kegger?”

“This kegger on Friday. Meant to be a good one. Down at the boneyard.”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, turning back to the papers. “I’ve never been to one before. Wouldn’t even know what to do.”

“Come find me and I can show you,” is JJ’s suave reply. You snigger, rolling your eyes. “I mean it. It’d do you good to get to wear the ‘teenager’ hat or whatever you called it.”

Sighing, you venture back to him with the worksheets for the day in your hands. “Maybe. How’s that?”

“Good enough for now,” JJ relents. Before JJ can try and make a move, you’re thrusting papers into his hands. He groans, disappointed, and you only pretend not to care. 

“Okay, so: Romeo and Juliet. We all know what a shitshow that was…”

The First Kegger 

“I feel ridiculous.”

“You look it.” You toss a Jellycat at Esme’s head. “Hey!”

“That’s not very supportive of you,” you mutter, glancing at the mirror. You fiddle with the hem of the skirt and try to shimmy it further down your legs. It feels ridiculously short and revealing. God help you if you drop anything, there’s no way in hell you can bend over to pick it up. 

“Why’d I be supportive of this? You’re going to a kegger purely to appease the patriarchal nightmare that is JJ Maybank.”

“You don’t have to use his full name every time, y’know?” You reply, choosing to ignore her complaint. 

“Girl, this ain’t you.”

“It might be me. I can go to keggers.”

“Sure, okay, go to keggers - that don’t mean you have to cosplay as somebody else,” Esme sighs. She gets up from the bed and walks over to you. Her fingers meddle with the straps of the rather skimpy top you’re wearing. You’ll spend the whole night crossing your arms to try and cover your chest. Meeting your gaze, she sighs once more and takes a step back. “Look, if you really think this thing with JJ Maybank has legs then at least be yourself. I thought we agreed that as feminist women we wouldn’t conform to society’s brainwashing of what an attractive, ideal woman is.”

“You’re giving me a headache,” you mutter. But as you glance back in the mirror, you can’t help but agree. This isn’t you. The skirt, the top: it feels unnatural. Wordlessly, you walk over to your dresser and dig about through the drawers. The outfit that replaces the ‘hot-girl starter kit’ eases your anxiety in a second. An adorable skort and crochet style cropped sweater that sits pretty over a tank top. Yes, that’s more like it. Esme seems to agree, as she nods approvingly from the bed where she’s taken purchase once again. The reflection you’re met with smiles back at you. But then the thought of actually going to the kegger makes reality weigh heavy. “I don’t know…Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

“You look cute. It might be fun, you never know,” Esme shrugs. 

Sighing, you flop down on your bed beside her and stare up at the ceiling. The glow-in-the-dark stars you pasted there when you were thirteen have lost their shine, but they still have a dull illuminessence that feels like safety. “What if I’ve got this all wrong?”

“Didn’t you say he kissed you? How could you get that wrong?”

“I don’t know, I just…What if he’s doing it to mess with me?”

Esme thinks for a moment then groans. She sits up and huffs. “I can’t believe I’m actually going to defend this douchebag but,” she mutters, before meeting your eyes, “I think he might really be into you. And if you’re going to let some silly self-loathing stop you from being happy, then that’s pretty depressing. And sad. And pathetic.”

“Thank you,” you deadpan. She grins. You give a small smile back. “You’re right. But you know what would make this miles better?”

Realisation dawns upon her and her reaction would make it seem liek you asked her to go bungee jumping with you. Esme’s head begins to shake as yours begins to nod. “No. Nope. No way.”

“Yes! Come on, we can go together! Solidarity in numbers and all that!”

“I would do anything for you, but wingmanning you at a social event that reinforces incorrect assumptions that excessive alcohol consumption is synonymous with being cool is–”

You plaster a hand over her mouth. Glaring, you say, “shut up and get changed, will you?”

She stares at you as if challenging you to break, but you don’t. Rolling her eyes, Esme pushes your hand off her mouth and begrudgingly gets up and off the bed. Mutters and complaints fall from her mouth as she rifles through your clothes. ‘You’re lucky you’re my best friend’ is the most common. 

After the time spent debating whether or not to attend, changing outfits, and convincing Esme to join you, the two of you walk up to the kegger almost three hours in. It’s bustling and boisterous. Groups of friends are scattered across the beach and the dunes. People sit on the driftwood and chat animatedly. Boys wrestle and jeer at one another near a makeshift bonfire. Girls gossip and giggle amongst themselves as they catch eyes with classmates across the way. Tourons huddle nervously together and try their best to appear at ease and at home in the boneyard. The Kooks tend to keep their distance from the Pogues, a strange invisible divide drawn in the sand. Keggers and coolers are stacked up beside some speakers, with R&B and hip-hop music thumping out across the seashore. It’s nearly completely dark outside, save for a thin line of navy just above the shoreline. The bonfire works well in illuminating the sand with a warm, orange glow. 

“Holy shit,” Esme mutters. You snort. This was a first for the both of you. “This already blows.”

“The music’s pretty decent, at least,” you comment as the two of you weave through gaggles of teenagers. It seems you’re both naturally gravitating towards the keg to grab a drink. Red solo cups are stacked precariously beside the beverages and you grab one each. As Esme chatters and fills up your cups, your eyes scan the beach in search of a certain blonde haired boy. You’d texted JJ before leaving but had yet to get a response. Glancing down at your phone to double-check, you notice that the service is appalling, and sigh, pocketing the device again. 

“You found him yet?”

“Nope. Holy crap, can you believe how busy it is?”

“Look out!” someone shouts. With that, you and Esme stumble back as two guys tumble in front of you onto the sand, wrestling. Esme rolls her eyes and mutters into her cup, ‘imbeciles’ before taking a sip. Your fingers nervously press into the plastic over and over as you scan the beach over and over. It’s so busy and in the darkness, it’s hard to make out faces. Everybody looks the same (save for the Kooks, who are dressed in designer threads). You and Esme find yourselves in what feels like a safe spot on the beach. Sitting on an old tree trunk, you sip at your beers and people-watch whilst discussing the gossip you knew of your classmates. It’s nice to have her company; you’d have no idea how you would have coped if you had come on your own. Checking your phone once more, there’s still no text from JJ. Just as you’re about to recommend leaving - already an hour in - Esme is suggesting to get a refill and give it a bit more time. You’d made the journey and the effort, after all. 

Approaching the keg, you vaguely recognise the boy refilling his cup. Smiling, you call out, “Pope!” and watch as he startles and turns around. His smile is amicable.

“Hey! Uh…YN, right?”

“That’s the one,” you smile. The alcohol gives you a boost of social confidence, what with your tolerance so low. “You remember Esme, right?”

“How could I forget? Mathlete reigning champion,” Pope smiles at a rather smug Esme. 

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know where JJ is, would you?” Esme asks on your behalf. Your face burns hot at the directness of her question. 

Pope doesn’t seem to be phased, however. He looks around as he says, “he is here somewhere. I’ve been hanging with Kie though so I lost track of him. He’ll show up.”

Esme gives you a nudge and you roll your eyes, smiling into your cup to try and hide your glee. He’s here. 

“JJ says you’ve been tutoring him at Mr Sunn’s request?” Pope asks you. You nod. 

“Yep. Once a week for over a month now.”

“Honestly, you deserve a medal for that. I gave up trying a long time ago,” Pope remarks joshingly. 

“He’s actually doing pretty great. I think it’s making a difference.”

The rest of the conversation stretches on with Pope. You start to exchange stories from the chess team and Mathletes and Model UN and, eventually, the Spelling Bee tale comes up. Unaware of the secret vendetta Pope held against you following your victory, it’s fair to see you have a good laugh when it’s revealed. The three of you become more giddy and familiar as the conversation continues and you wonder why you and Pope had never hung over before, when you seemingly have so much in common. When Esme wanders off to go find somewhere to pee, you and Pope sit side-by-side on some driftwood and discuss the latest fantasy book you both happened to be reading. 

“I gotta say, I did not see Eldmore and Scarlett getting together,” Pope tells you. You scoff, gaping at him. 

“How could you not!? He was practically falling at her feet in the second book!” 

“I don’t know, I just thought he had more chemistry with Mistress Londar.”

You consider this as you take another sip of your drink. You’re three beers in now and can certainly feel its effects; probably best to quit while you’re ahead. “I guess. Mistress Londar is in too deep with the alliance, though. I think it would have been too much of a conflict.”

“Maybe. Still. That one chapter when Eldmore and Scarlett…y’know…do it,” Pope’s voice trails off and the memory has you laughing. Smiling brightly at him, you’re far too excited to have the opportunity to mention JJ. 

“That was the chapter I was reading when JJ stole the book from me. I think it might have scarred him for life,” you snigger. 

Pope laughs, shaking his head. “The stuff he gets up to? I doubt it.”

As the laughter dies down, Pope goes to take another drink only to find his cup empty. Smiling apologetically, he rises to his feet. “I’m gonna get a refill. It was nice talking to you though. See you ‘round?”

“Sure,” you smile, nodding. With that, Pope walks away. You stay put for a moment, considering what to do. The interaction with Pope had distracted you from your search for JJ. Upon checking your phone, you realise you’d been conversing for over an hour. Oops. Esme had also vanished. You better go look for her. Getting back up, you ditch your cup and walk around the boneyard. You thought it would have started to die down with how late it was getting but, if anything, it seems busier than ever. The alcohol has your head slightly fuzzy and you concentrate on not tripping over. You’re not drunk - not by a long shot - but it’s probably best not to have any more for the night. Pulling out your phone, you try texting Esme despite the poor cell service: Where are you? When you look back up and glance around the beach, your heart stutters. 

There’s JJ, as gorgeous as ever, stood talking to some random girl. He’s leaning against an abandoned, rusted watch tower, nursing a red solo cup, and staring at her as she talks. He seems to be listening rather intently to the story she’s telling, nodding his head, as her hands move as she speaks. When her fingers brush against his forearm, you suddenly feel very sick. And then, he laughs. 

The tears kick in with the embarrassment and disappointment. How could you be so stupid? Of course he doesn’t want to be with you. Of course he isn’t going to change. Of course he’d want somebody else. 

A hand on your back has you jumping and spinning around. Esme. You sigh in relief. She frowns at your expression, spotting the tears in your eyes. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

You shake your head and grab her hand. “Let’s just go. I wanna leave.”

“Hey, what–” Her voice trails off and you know she must have spotted JJ. You remain with your back to the interaction and try tugging on Esme’s arm to prompt her to move, but her feet are welded into the sand. “That filthy, slimy little toad of a man, I swear to God–”

“Esme, please,” you beg. Your voice cracks and gives you away. She meets your gaze. You shake your head desperately and a tear falls. “Please, I just want to leave.”

Huffing, she takes one last look at JJ talking to the girl before reluctantly appeasing you. The two of you walk down the beach, hands interlocked, and you sniffle pathetically as you try to wash the image from your mind. Why would he invite you just to get with somebody else? Why would he kiss you if he didn’t want anything? Why would he do this to you? Why? Why? Why? 

Your mind jumps back to that day in the classroom. The sneer in his voice when he muttered those two words. The sniggers from the classmates that felt like elephants trampling on your chest. The shame and the embarrassment that overcame you. You were so convinced that he was a different person. That you’d merely caught him on an off day and you didn’t know him, not truly. The day at your house was so special: it felt like finding gold in the attic. Nobody had ever seen your life up close apart from Esme. Not even Lily or Palma. Nobody had ever met your brother apart from Esme, either. Had heard your fears and anxieties and seen your exhaustion not once, but twice. You’d trusted him. You let him into your home and gave him a snapshot of your life and you thought he understood. But you must have thought wrong. 

Esme doesn’t try to spark a conversation as the two of you walk back to your house. She gives you a long, lingering hug at your front door before bidding you goodnight. Slipping into the house, you keep your footsteps light and your cries quiet as you make your way up the stairs. Your mom’s bedroom door is shut and you can hear her snoring through the walls. Leo’s bedroom door is open by a crack and you wipe your tears and sneak inside. He’s lying in his bed, bundled up in his dinosaur bed sheets, cuddling his stuffy. He looks so peaceful like this. So safe from other children’s whispers and other parent’s horrified stares. So safe from the world and its cruelty. The cruelty that you were exposed to tonight. Ducking down beside him, you brush your hand lightly over his hair and press a kiss to his forehead. Climbing into bed has never felt like such a relief before now. 

The Final Lesson 

You haven’t texted JJ since the kegger on Friday. His message he sent last night went without a response but JJ’s sure you read it. He was clarifying that the lesson was still on for today, in the usual spot in school. At your lack of response, JJ simply assumed that it was routine as always, and packed up his backpack for his lesson. He isn’t sure how to explain it, but when JJ passes through the threshold of the building, something feels off. It’s as if the air is thick like molasses, study and heavy, pushing against his throat. A bizarre feeling of unease washes over him with every step he takes. The classroom door is shut and JJ pushes it open, finding you sat at the desk. Your head is down and you’re reading something laid out in front of you. There’s less paperwork than usual stacked by your side. You don’t look up or smile at him as JJ walks in. You don’t even acknowledge that he’s there. JJ suddenly feels nauseous. What the hell is going on? 

“Hey,” he says, unsure, as he walks over to the table. The glance you give him is brief. 

“Hey,” you mumble. 

Frowning, JJ takes his seat. You’re focusing pretty hard on whatever it is before you. JJ takes a long inhale and waits. Eventually, you clear your throat and push over the paper. 

“This is, uh, your scoresheet from all our lessons. Y’know, so you have physical proof of what we covered and how you performed in the different quizzes.”

JJ’s frown deepens with your words. He slowly takes the paper from you and scans over it. 

“You can give it to Mr Sunn if you like, but I’ve already emailed him a copy so he has it. He’s aware that you’ve attended every session, save for the one in week two, but–”

“Wait, what the hell is going on?” JJ interrupts. His heart is starting to beat faster, his anxiety building, because this sounds an awful lot like goodbye. “Are the lessons done?”

When you meet JJ’s eyes, he hardly recognises you. You haven’t looked at him with that level of nonchalance since the early weeks. Pushing up your glasses, you say, “yes, the lessons are done.”

JJ blinks at you and waits for you to drop the act. He waits for you to make a joke and tease him like always. He waits to see your expression melt with that smile that he likes to think is saved just for him. But instead, you just look at him. It pisses him off. 

“The fuck d'you mean ‘the lessons are done’?”

“JJ–”

“You never told me that we were finishing the lessons. I mean, shit, I just walk in here and suddenly it’s over? I don’t understand!”

“We’ve covered all the content that you need to cover before the next semester starts–”

“--Bullshit we have!”

“JJ!”

“No, no, I don’t know what the hell is going on,” JJ argues loudly, “but you’re fucking with me.”

“JJ, please,” you plead. It’s the first crack in your icy exterior. Your lip quivers as you try and steady yourself. There’s little power behind your voice as you say, “please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

JJ’s heart squeezes and he rubs at it through his t-shirt. He feels like you’ve just shoved him off a cliff and he’s falling and falling and falling, and you’re just standing there and watching it happen. It doesn’t make any sense. It’s as if you’ve both been reading the same book and then you’ve skipped ahead three chapters. He tries to calm himself down, taking a few slow, shaky breaths. His eyes press shut and in the darkness behind his lids, he sees your face, moments before he kissed you. Shaking his head, he opens his eyes and looks at you. 

“You could at least give me a reason.”

You’re visibly uncomfortable. Swallowing, you look down at the papers before you and meddle with the corner of one until it starts to split. JJ utters your name and you sigh, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“I don’t know why you’re making a big deal of this. It’s not like it means anything to you,” you tell him quietly. JJ’s brows furrow. 

“What're talking about?”

Sighing once more, you lift your head and meet JJ’s gaze. There’s a sadness behind your eyes that he’s never seen before. “I saw you at the kegger.”

JJ’s frown deepens as his brows tug closer together. “Huh?”

“The kegger, JJ, I saw you there,” you say, firmer. Shaking your head, you busy your hands with anything and everything as you ramble. “You have every right to get with whoever you want to get with and mack on any girl you like, but you could at least, y’know, clarify before doing it. I was just confused. It felt like a sick joke or somethin’ and I really hope that you wouldn’t be that cruel but…But it just confused me and I don’t think I can compartmentalise this dynamic if that's the case...”

JJ’s shaking his head frantically. He holds up his hands in mock surrender as if trying to ease traffic. “Woah, woah, slow down, you lost me. What d’you mean you ‘saw’ me?”

“With that girl, JJ.” Your voice is thick with despondency. “I saw you at the old watchtower talking to her and…I don’t know…”

Oh. 

JJ isn’t a genius at most things, romance being one of them, but he had a sense for when things were deeper than a fling. He knew his own emotionality enough to recognise when he liked someone, even if he was reluctant to admit it. It didn’t take a scientist or therapist and even a mere scholar to read you right now. The way you’re looking anywhere but him; the way your hands are practically tearing the paperwork, that seemed to follow you like a shadow, into shreds; the way you’re so desolate and so vulnerable in your words, strategically saying so much without saying anything at all. It’s like how you taught him during Romeo and Juliet: ‘you have to read between the lines’. 

“You’ve got it all wrong,” JJ says, suddenly calm. 

“JJ, you don’t have to–”

“I was looking for you all night,” he interrupts. You seem unwilling to accept this, sighing and shaking your head, refusing to meet his gaze. “I was. I swear it. I was looking for you the whole night and then, when I found you, you were talking to Pope.”

That has you taking pause. Your fingers finally cease their relentless vandalism. JJ sees your eyes flicker over to him warily. He takes the gap to continue. 

“You were talking for an hour. Maybe more. And you were laughing and…And I’m not an idiot, a’right? I know that you and Pope have a million more things in common, and that he’s actually got a hope in hell of making something out of himself. You’re both smart. It’s probably fucking fate. And I’m not gonna stand in the way of that, a’right? I ain’t gonna stop two people from being happy and shit just because I like you too. It ain’t fair. Pope’s a good guy. He’d be good to you.”

The hopeful part of JJ’s psyche is leaning heavily on your pure look of confusion. JJ’s face feels burning red from his clunky confession. But he perseveres and takes another quick breath, preparing himself to talk up his best friend, but as JJ’s lips part, you’re talking. 

“I don’t like Pope.” The two of you stare at one another. The table has never felt so wide. Shaking your head, you repeat, “I don’t like Pope. Not like that, anyway. We just have a few things in common and started talking about that book I was reading, and lost track of time and– I had no idea you even saw that.”

“Yeah, well…I did…so,” JJ mutters. 

“JJ, I was looking for you all night, too,” you tell him. The smile on your face is solemn when you say, “and when I found you, you were talking to that girl. And…she’s beautiful, JJ. She seemed really nice and, of course, you’re welcome to–”

“--Didn’t you hear what I said?” JJ can’t help but cut in. You frown slightly. JJ doesn’t mean to laugh when he repeats, “I like you. Like really like you. Like holy shit what the fuck am I supposed to do like you. Like you’re all I can think about sort of like you. It’s fucking terrifying and pathetic and I know that there isn’t a chance in hell but–”

“--You like me?” you whisper. JJ laughs softly, almost under breath, and shrugs. He feels stripped off his confidence; bare without his boyish façade. This was real, genuine, organic. This was honest. 

“Course. Why else would have I invited you to that damn kegger in the first place? I mean, shit, I full-on kissed you. Thought it was pretty obvious,” he says, his voice trailing off. 

“I…I just thought…” 

You’re in disbelief, it seems, and it makes JJ’s heart want to bleed. It’s as if you can’t fathom the fact that somebody might have an interest in you. Someone might want to care for you like you do for so many others; to be the one who helps look after your brother; who helps you study for your exams despite the fact that you’ll inevitably ace them either way; who helps you remember how to relax and let loose and just be. JJ wants to be that person. He wants to be the one that you can cry to and the one who makes you laugh. He wants to be the guy that you spend your mornings sleeping in with and your nights wide awake. He wants to make you smile and scream and moan and– All of it. JJ wants it all. 

“That girl was my cousin. Well, step-half-cousin– It’s get confusing, a’right? The point is:” He takes a sharp breath before laying his hands palm down on the table. He’s determined to hold your gaze when he says, “I don’t want anybody else - not one person - but you.”

JJ’s patience has never been more impressive as he waits for you to process what he’s said. He can practically see each word working its way through that beautiful brain of yours. As the meaning sinks in, your smile finally begins to show like the first sunrise after winter. Brilliant and full of promise and hope. No more dark days, no more cold nights, no more dull mornings. Just sunshine - through and through. 

“I want you too,” you confess. 

His heart feels like it’s about to bust out of his chest. JJ’s not sure he’s ever smiled so hard in his life. There’s a faint worry that his skin might split from how wide his grin is. But he can’t help it. This is better than any high he’s ever had. It’s euphoric because you want him too. Despite all his misgivings, all his stupidity, all his hopelessness: you want him. And not just the version that he might be able to become, but the version he is now.

“Come over here right now,” JJ demands in a breathlessly chuckle. 

The giggle that falls from your lips is adorable as you get up from your seat. JJ’s laughing too as he pushes his chair back to make space for you. You drop down onto his lap with a laugh and JJ tastes them on his tongue when he kisses you. It feels like coming home as your hands lace into his hair, pulling him nearer. The graze of your tongue against his, sensually tasting him the same way he does you, has him quietly moaning. The moment he takes your lip between his teeth, you’re whining, and it’s as sweet as syrup. His hands run down and along your thigh, fingers digging into the flesh just enough to remind himself that you’re real, this is real, and you want him too. 

“You’re fuckin’ perfect,” JJ murmurs against your mouth. Your sheltered moan drives him on; JJ kisses you with new fever. The scratch of your nails against his scalp is orgasmic in itself. It’s never been like this: never has something so simple made JJ feel like he’s been brought to his knees. Pulling away, JJ stares up at you, panting lightly, and waits for you to open your eyes. Pupils blown wide, you look like an angel, the sun casting yellow behind your back. His fingers slowly lift until he’s taking the frame of your glasses in grip and easing them from your face. JJ’s never seen you without your glasses on; not up close. His lips quirk at the edges. “I think I like you more with them on.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, rolling your eyes, smiling despite your words. He makes sure not to be careless when he puts them on the table. His hands cup your face, fingers brushing over your soft skin, fuzzy like peach lining, and you lean into his touch, gazing into his eyes, and JJ thinks this. This is what true happiness is. 

“What?” you ask, voice barely louder than a whisper. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’,” JJ smiles, losing his nerve. Nobody’s ever looked at him like that. You look at JJ like he’s somebody. “Just happy s’all.”

Your lips are slightly damp when you tilt your head enough to press a kiss to the pad of his thumb. JJ’s breath catches in his throat from the tender action. He’s serious about this. Serious about you. He’s as serious as the plague. 

“Same here,” you murmur, leaning back down as if to meet his lips. Before they reunite, you let one last thing slip. “M’happy too, blue eyes.”

taglist: @mayanneaa | @stevesstranger | @thisismysafeescape | @nooneshallfindme | @pastelbabygirl19 | @araunahj | @lmaowhatt | @raineshua | @darlingchronicles | @jjsfavgirl

[currentfandomkick]

Okay so. The batcat danny propmt

Danny really wonders just how many mirrors he broke, or ladders he walked under sometimes to have his luck be this bad. Most would agree that surviving an inter dimensional portal cracking open on top of them was a good thing. That getting powers was cool, and his loving parents would accept him unconditionally.

Danny begged to differ, and loudly protested the whole concept these days.

They believed ‘Danny’ and ‘Phantom’ were fused and needed immediate separation.

Jazz barely made it down in time to stop him from becoming Dan 2.0–this time omnicidal as his fright rejected him!

Which he knows isn’t entirely true. Tucker’s custody got swapped to his mom given the ghosts targetting Danny and Tucker refusing to not help him with it. The Mansons moved after Ida’s death, and Sam couldn’t contact anyone. He doubted it was from a lack of trying. Dani is exploring the world and had no clue he was in danger.

And its not like he ever entered a formal apprenticeship with any of his mentors; they have no duty of care to him…

It doesn’t stop his core from screaming.

Jazz was willing to give up college for him. And he, he couldn’t let her. As stupid as it sounds, she already gave up being a kid for him, he can’t let her give up her adult life for him too, even when she is fully prepared to.

So she dropped him off with Wulf, and the Court of Ecto Entities helping Danny learn to coordinate the Infinite Realms. He refuses to rule them, but he’s willing to help as a mediator for intra-Realms disputes and that’s what seemed to be needed.

The Court ran itself for the most part—Danny only needed as Judge of Judges on occasion.

His Court was ready for war when he arrived as he did. He silenced the portal instead of letting them kill his parents. As stupid as he feels, as much as he understands everyone demanding he step aside and let them enact vengeance for him he. He can’t.

Frostbite was the first to infer this, and somehow shielded Danny from the worst of it while his core gurgled at him.

There were whispers about after that. Everything blurred and his core ached for his fright. He’s always thrived on acceptance and mutual care—his core needs it to survive.

He only has his bond to Jazz to lean on now, and its far from able to help him recover.

Shadows thrashed about in ways he forgot they could.

Lady Gotham was pissed. On his behalf.

“Stolen of Mine,” she addressed him softly in a raspy, hissing voice he’d come to expect of her. “You are welcome to return to my territory. The perpetrators will not get within ten miles of my territory before one of my cursed ones decides to go to their location and release their misfortune.”

He nodded at that, he remembers that.

“And fear not, your birth parents will seek you soon.”

“Cool… my, my what!”

“Catwoman and Batman, they will learn of you within a week of you coming to Gotham. They will know you are theirs My Stolen One, and come for you on your terms.”

Danny can admit he should have asked for more details, but things got blurry and he had an ecto-IV in and was in the Far Frozen for a week or two before his human needs kicked his ass.

Lady Gotham plopped him into a clinic and Dr. Tompkins asked no major questions on where he got the new scars. Mostly gave him meds and checked he knew the shelters and soup kitchens nearby.

He did not know of those things. It was good to know now…

And maybe an hour after learning all that he ran into Ringmaster Reject.

Reject began cackling about “Just in time for the Anniversary!” Before Danny blacked out.

—-

Everyone in the family knew this time of year was difficult for Bruce and Jason. They tended to forget about her and that she lost her second son.

No one knew the first was lost around the same time. The baby she hadn’t informed Bruce of as it was early in her criminal career. It was before she became Catwoman. Back when Selina was a stupid girl who fell for the Tall Dark and Mysterious info brooker that dropped off the face of the earth. She found his ass in a Batsuit a few years later, and pretended with him that it was their first time meeting. For Robin’s sake anyways.

She kept their son and his kidnapping to herself. and her therapist nowadays. She told Bruce of the baby stolen from the hospital with a bunch of others but not that the baby was his. If he inferred it, he hadn’t told her he knew.

Her baby was still missing after fifteen years. She’d come to terms with knowing she’d never know him.

But she didn’t tell anyone the date he was stolen. That was her day to mourn as she needed. And this time, she just… didn’t want to be alone.

This year she decided to force her (soon to be legally hers) kids and Bruce to stay at the Manor and have a family day, for her sake.

Jason agreed once they agreed it was a ‘No Cape Talk’ day.

Things were going well.

Then an alert for a Joker Attack went off.

“Hello Gotham!”

Bruce, Jason and Dick tensed.

“Today i have a very special guest with me!”

The camera panned to an unconscious teen. Around the age her boy would be.

A boy with her face shape and build, with a younger Bruce’s nose and eyebrows.

Color drained from her face.

If, if that was Her Boy. The one she couldn’t name without Bruce. The one who came early and she couldn’t decide if giving him up was better for them or not. The baby boy she fretted over the existence of only to be taken from her before she could settle on what would be best.

That boy was unconscious, tied to a chair, and his head pulled back by a grinning Joker as the camera zoomed in on a him.

She catalogued the healing bruises from a collar of sorts on his neck, and lightning-like scarring peeking out from his tee shirt’s left sleeve.

“Looks like Brucie boy missed another one! Now, i think we should give him a big ol’ Gotham welcome, don’t you?”

Bruce and the others were speaking. She couldn’t hear them.

Not as a needle was brought into view. And a gas mask. And lip balm, of all things.

“What do you think Gotham? New Toxin from me, perhaps some good ole fear toxin from my buddy Scarecrow or should we play with Ivy’s poisons? You know where to vote, you get five minutes folks!”

—

Add on as you please everyone, and feel free to actually vote on Danny’s upcoming torture for whoever picks it up next (or if i add onto it, idk)

Shrodinger's BatCat Child

DP x DC Prompt

When Selina was pregnant with her's and Bruce's child, she was thinking of settling down and raising the child. But when she had given birth to the boy, someone had broken into the hospital and stolen not only her baby but also other babies had been taken from the hospital. She tried to find out who took her baby boy but couldn't find the perpetrator.

Heartbroken at the loss of her baby, Selina masks her grief with being Catwoman. She doesn't tell Bruce about their baby boy, even after the new boy that goes under the Bats wing. She does treat each new Robin as if they were her own son. She talks to Harley about what had happened when Damian comes into the fold, where she then reveals that she had a baby with Bruce to the man and what happened to their baby after a few sessions with Harley.

Danny is on the run from Amity, from the Fentons, from the GIW, and from Vlad. The Fentons found out about him being Phantom and attacked him. They then teamed up with the GIW to hunt him down. He doesn't want to go to Vlad, as the Fruitloop is slowly becoming more and more crazy to get him to become his son and slowly focusing less and less on Maddie.

He heads to Gotham, as the city spirit, when she was chosen to be part of his court because of her knowledge and power, had told him that he was one of hers, a child born in Gotham to a woman that wasn't Maddie, Catwoman, and that's also how he found out that he's the son of Batman as well, because Lady Gotham gave him that answer as well, but she didn't tell him their real names. He just hopes that his mom and dad will be happy to learn that their son is still (mostly) alive and on his way to them.

And then Danny is caught by the Joker. He couldn't put up that much of a fight as he used up a lot of Ectoplasm escaping the lab he was in. Tucker's family moved away during middle school, and so did Sam's family when the start of high school came, Jazz had returned from college to help him escape the lab he was held in, but had to go back if she wanted to keep the scholarship.

The Batfam was having a family day out in Gotham. Bruce and Selina were engaged and wanted to bond as a family. Then Joker began broadcasting across Gotham.

"Hello Gotham! Today, I have a special guest with me"

The camera panned to a boy tied up in a chair, head hanging low.

"Brucie Boy seems to have forgotten to mention that he has another brat to call his own, so I took it upon myself to inform you all about him!"

When Joker grabbed the face of the boy and showed it to the camera, the entire Batfam tensed. Because the boys face had the features of both Bruce and Selina, the cuts, bruises, and blood on the boys face couldn't hide that fact, and now they need to find the boy to save him from what Joker has planned for their son.

[konigofmyheart]

marry me (könig x reader)

(fluff, gn!reader, you work at a cafe and könig’s a bit delusional about you…)

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ☕︎ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ☕︎ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ☕︎ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ☕︎ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

he can practically hear the clock of life ticking as he stands, the rhythm slowing when he takes the first step in your direction. he’s had enough of just watching you from afar. of course, it’s wonderful to see your cute expressions when you don’t think anyone is watching: that little furrow of your brow as you scroll on your phone at the counter during downtime, absentmindedly eating your daily complimentary pastry, or the way you bite the inside of your lip (imperceptibly for anyone except him) as you try to finally perfect a double cream heart for a latte…but the way you smile openly at him every time he walks up to the counter makes his heart skip a beat. he knows you do this for everyone as part of being a polite worker, yet he can’t help but imagine you smiling the same way as he arrives from work to your home, the one you will decorate and furnish as you please, where you will build a life and a family together…

he’ll make you feel like the most special being in the whole world, because you are, you’re his everything and that’s why he’ll tell you he loves you every chance he gets, he’ll hold you as close to him as possible, slightly crushing you, yes, but you’ll have to forgive him, schatz, he just needs to feel your heart against his. you’ll spend every holiday together, he’ll make sure of it, finally finding a reason to use his off time as he’s never done before. he’ll be smug as he confirms to his superiors that he needs the holidays off, telling them he has someone waiting for him at home, a lived in, full of love home. gone will be the days of shuffling into his cold, lonely apartment, being greeted with only one of everything; a lone spoon, an empty bowl, his toothbrush just laying there on the counter.

your home together will be full of you, your humming, your laughter, lazy mornings in bed, whispered sweet nothings, your matching wedding bands glinting in the low light, worshipping you with each breath, meals with the table set for two, your shoes next to his boots, your coat hung beside his on the wall, everything in a pair, just as you two will be. oh, how he’ll never want to leave for the first time ever, easily becoming addicted to existing in this warm place of happiness and life, for once belonging. don’t worry, though, he won’t slack off at work. never, not when he now has you to spend all his saved up money on, you’ll go on trips, get everything your heart desires, he swears you’ll never want for anything as long as he’s around. you’ll never have to work here, or anywhere, again, unless you really like your job in this café that much. in that case, he can buy it and you can be the owner, your workers teasing you as you invite your husband to the kitchen in the back, wanting him to be the first to try the new menu items. he can see the wonderful life you’ll build together playing out right in front of him, so vibrant he can practically reach out and touch it, a smile tugging at his lips as he finally stands before you at the counter.

“is there anything i can do for you, sir?” you ask, dazzling him with that bright smile again, making his breath catch in his throat for the umpteenth time, like only you can.

marry me?

[niniwritesxo]

‘goody like you’ pt.3

nam-gyu x fem reader

warnings: mention of drugs & cursing

there you were, sitting in your bunk bed wondering what to do. you didn’t really like making friends but you were pretty fucking lonely right now

might as-well look for some friends i guess.

a few hours later you actually made a friend, myung-gi. he was player 333 and was actually a decent guy, you guys talked about your hobbies, family life and reason why you are here in the first place.

apparently he was a big youtuber who lost a lot of money because of bitcoin, you once heard your older brother talk about it but didn’t really care for it at the time.

you didn’t tell him a lot because why would you? it’s not like you guys are going to be friends after this.

‘‘it feels like i haven’t had food for two days’’ myung-gi begins sitting besides you, grabbing his stomach jokingly.

‘’right? i’ll probably die of starvation instead of these dumb games’’ you jokingly respond looking at him.

just then a loud buzz is heard from the left side of the building, guards with weird shapes on their masks enter the room with what seems like food.

without saying anything everyone stood up and walked towards the guards, they were handing out little boxes with bibimbap (our prayers were answers)

myung-gi and you also jump up and go to stand in line behind all the other contestants.

timeskip

nam-gyu was casually eating his food when his purple haired friend spoke up.

‘‘seems like someone’s got your bitch gyu’’ he says not looking up at nam-gyu, just staring at the duo in front of them.

nam-gyu drops his fork and looks up at thanos, after a few seconds he looks in front of him.

spotting you with player 333, chatting and giggling with him, you looked so ..relieved and careless?

he hated every second of it.

‘‘want to go over there?’’ nam-gyu asks his friend, looking at him with a smug smile, already planning something crazy.

thanos takes a big bite of his food and smiles, still chewing on his food he manages to answer.

‘‘do you even have to ask?’’ thanos smirked, putting his food down and searching for his shoes.

‘‘hey man, sooo tell me. when am i getting my money back?’’ thanos started, walking towards the bunkbed y’all were sitting on.

you look up at the duo in front of you, that purple haired freak and nam-gyu standing beside him with a stupid smile on his face, they were kinda intimidated when they were together, you weren’t scared but still something always feels off when you see them together.

‘‘just ignore them myung-gi, they are like dogs. as long as you don’t acknowledge them, they won’t annoy you’’ you say looking up at myung-gi with a apologetic smile.

‘‘you guys are on name terms huh? fuck dude don’t tell me you fucked her already?’’ nam-gyu finally speaks up mockingly gasping as he says the dumb words.

‘‘i’ve known her for about 10 years and she didn’t let me fuck on-’’ he begins looking at you, waiting for you to explode.

you look up at him, obviously annoyed.

‘‘will you shut the fuck up?’’ you say, glaring at the man in front of you.

before the argument escalated the guards entered the room again, announcing a new game.

thank god.

the men left your bunkbed and went to get ready for the next deadly game.

time skip (after the game)

after the games you were wondering who designed this bathroom?

you were in a dirty dark bathroom, made for woman AND man, god this is horrible.

your bladder was about to explode though, so you HAD to, finding a stall that wasn’t occupied already took you like 5 minutes.

fuck.

when you finished peeing you opened up the door, trying to escape this bathroom as fast as possible when you feel a hand on your shoulder, roughly pushing you back into the stall, before you can react a hand reaches towards your mouth, covering it.

when you look up you spot nam-gyu, he looks pissed, he pushes you against the wall and just looks at you for a few seconds before speaking.

‘’call me a dog one more time and see what happens y/n’’ he warns, glaring at you.

that smirk was nowhere to be found, you actually pissed him off this time, good.

you spot him looking at you, undressing you with his eyes almost.

‘‘aw you don’t like it when girls call you that?’’ you mockingly pout, laughing at your own comment.

and then it happens.

nam-gyu roughly presses his lips against yours, there is nothing romantic about it. it’s almost like he wants to punish you.

he doesn’t pull away and still has you in his grip, which means you also can’t pull back. not being able to breath.

after a few seconds you can feel something entering your mouth, did he fucking spit in your mouth?

no, no it feels like..like a pill?

you don’t know what it is so just keep it under your tongue, just to be sure.

nam-gyu pulls away and looks at you, hatred in his eyes.

‘‘swallow it’’ he demands pointing out the thing he just pushed inside of your mouth.

for some reason you don’t question it and just do as he says, he looked so angry right now, might as-well listen to him.

but why were you turned on by this?

all of the sudden he started laughing but it wasn’t a sweet laugh, he actually looked scary.

‘‘i just gave you ecstasy’’ he says laughing,

‘‘who knew a goody like you would take drugs huh?’’ he says mockingly, treating you like some dumb kid who hasn’t tried anything in their life.

to be honest you weren’t really a ‘experimental’ person so he was kind of right but you would never admit that.

you are caught of guard when you feel his cold ring hit your left cheek, you look up at the touch.

‘‘whatever you do, don’t freak out. just follow my lead’’ he says making direct eye-contact, softly caressing your cheek.

you had no idea what was going on, but you did NOT want him to stop.

(it’s slow burn guys so sorry, in the next chapter there will be smut xo) oh also you are player 217 lollll

[dixons-sunshine]

Together | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Daryl were thousands of miles away from your home. In an unknown country filled with new threats, you knew that you had to fight for your life—and hour unborn child’s. And you knew that you eventually had to tell Daryl about it, too.

Genre: Angst? Fluff? I don’t even know.

Era: France

Warnings: Swearing, canon typical violence, pregnancy, probably inaccuracies in this regarding the episode.

Word count: 1k

A/N: Requested by @holdmytesseract. This is the request you sent my way a long time ago lol. I hope you like this! Also, I’m sorry if this might be inaccurate regarding the episode. I haven’t watched it in a hot minute and did not have the time to watch it again, so I had to improvise on what I remembered.

Everything was happening so fast. One moment, you and Daryl were walking away from the monastery, your respective bags slung over your shoulders and well on your way to… you did not know, but you knew you were going away from the community of nuns. The next moment, you and Daryl were rushing back towards the very same community, weapons raised and helping to fight off the onslaught of bad people that had infiltrated their defences.

Admittedly, although you were focused on helping the nuns defend the only home they had left in the world run by the undead, your mind kept wandering back to the fact that you needed to take as little damage as possible. You could not get hurt. Not now, and not anytime in the near future. You could not risk it—your baby’s safety depended on it.

Your baby. Those words still felt so surreal for you to say. Under normal circumstances, you would have been over the moon with joy at the prospect of starting a family, but the realization had come at the worst of times. You were in a different country, thousands of miles away from your home and your family with seemingly no way of getting back, so the news did not exactly serve to make anyone feel better, and it would only ensure that more stress get placed on not only your shoulders, but Daryl’s as well.

It was your worry that had prohibited you from telling the crossbow-wielding archer of his impending fatherhood, and now you were in yet another life-threatening situation with no guarantees of survival. You promised yourself that if you lived through this, the first thing you would tell Daryl was that you were pregnant.

With your gun raised in front of you, sister Isabelle followed closely behind you as you rushed further into the garden. Your eyes momentarily found your husband’s figure fighting off one of the guys, and although your every instinct told you to go help him, you knew you couldn’t. Isabelle had asked you to help her ensure that Laurent stayed safe, and you were not one to unnecessarily endanger a child’s life.

“Where did you say you put him?!” you yelled to sister Isabelle over the deafening sounds of gun shots being fired, shooting an approaching walker in the head.

Isabelle pulled you aside to hide behind one of the walls when a bullet flew dangerously close to the two of you, her heart practically beating out of her chest. “Towards that building with that secret room where you and Daryl saw our weapons.”

“That’s on the other side of this place!” you exclaimed, your eyes widening as your mind scrambled to think of any sort of plan to get there.

However, your thoughts got cut off by the feeling of someone harshly gripping your shoulder and pulling you back. Unwillingly, a scream left your throat, one that got silenced when a blade got pushed against your neck.

The man’s breath fanned over your cheek, but his attention shifted away from you and towards Isabelle. “Try anything, and the bitch gets it,” he voiced in a thick French accent, deliberately speaking English so that you could understand him as well.

As quickly as the man got his grip on you, it fell away just as quickly. The knife fell from his hand and to the floor with a dull clink, and the man fell down to the floor, nearly taking you with him but you jumped forward just in time. You turned around and saw Daryl standing there, his cerulean eyes filled to the brim with both worry and rage.

You quickly turned around to look at Isabelle. However, you did not even have to say anything. She simply nodded at you, an understanding look in her eyes.

“I’ll go.” With that, she turned around and hurried away, leaving you alone with Daryl.

Daryl’s eyes locked with yours when you spun back around to gaze at him. He gently pulled you behind the wall to relative safety. “Are you—”

“I’m pregnant,” you blurted out, taking both you and Daryl by surprise. You, because you had not intended to say that at that moment, and Daryl because he had not even known you were with child.

“What?” he asked, bewildered and taken off guard.

“I’m pregnant,” you repeated, tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. I was so scared of how you’d react. I just wanted to let you know in case something happened.”

Despite the shock still lingering, and the slight anger at the fact that you had kept it from him, he knew there were far more pressing matters at hand. And despite the situation you both were in, he could not help the small feeling of happiness at the news. However, there would be time to discuss everything later. Right now, his only concern was keeping you safe. His mind went into overdrive, and he was in full protective mode.

“Ain’t nothin’ gon’ happen to ya,” he spoke gruffly. He reloaded his gun and sent you a pointed look. “Stay close to me at all times, okay? We’re gettin’ outta this. You’re gonna be alright. M’gonna make sure of it.”

Despite the tenseness of your predicament, you managed to give him a small, genuine smile. You nodded and made sure to cock your own gun, preparing yourself for what was to come.

“Okay,” you replied softly.

Together, both you and Daryl braced yourselves to keep fighting back against the bad people. You both pushed through and rushed towards where you saw Laurent and Isabelle, and despite the fact that you were battling for your own survival, you felt oddly at peace.

This, you could do. Fighting for your life was not something new to you. You had done so against many forces, from the Governor, to the Terminus people, to Negan, the Whisperers and so many more. You would not go down easily.

And although you and Daryl had a lot to talk about, you knew that everything would work out in the end. It always did. Your love for Daryl was strong, and his love for you might even be stronger. The two of you would get through this, and you would do it together.

[okaysonny]

how would the crew heads confess to you? (lookism)

A/N: a follow up post to: how easy is it for the crew heads to crush on you? (lookism)

thanks for all the love on it :) takes place during the current story!

✦ you're blissfully ignorant + their feelings are not reciprocated... (until you're aware of them anyway lol) because i like the #disbelief 👅

1. ELI

eli decides to take a leap of faith. he's not sure what to expect, but he's witnessed warren and sally's situation. he doesn't want his own love life to be a repeat 🫠

now that he's more sure of himself, more sure that he's allowed to feel someone's affections, he wants to know if his aimless pining for you really is aimless.

i think he'd confess to you in hostel's living room 🫡 (where warren + sally kissed) a simple but special place for him. it's where eli spends time with his family, and he wants you to be a part of that too.

he gets a pep talk from warren and sally first ofc! since they ended up together after all that tension, they remind him of their own experiences. warren would defo say something like: take it from me, gangdong's mighty...and romantic.

the gist of their speech is that: it'll be awkward, but better than waiting three years to properly confess. just be honest - if you don't try, you'll never know.

─ and if you get rejected? i'll be here with popcorn.

─ hush warren! don't listen to him eli. you've got this! (sally flashes a thumbs up 👍🏽)

he also gets motivation from amy and natalie <3 (you can do it uncle!)

eli can only smile bashfully. in the end, they're genuinely here supporting him, no matter what happens.

when the time actually comes, they all leave to give him privacy •ᴗ• (but they'd be listening through the door the whole time 😭)

his confession...is very cute and sweet 🥲 he doesn't have jake's guilt or johan's awkwardness, so he actually looks happy to be admitting his feelings, listing off all the things he admires about you.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

eli's daughter is the most important thing in the world - she's changed him for the better. so, seeing yenna so happy with you has made his heart flutter. (didn't mean for that to rhyme lmfaooo)

his feelings for you go beyond romantic attraction. it's also how well you've fit into his life, how it feels like you're meant to be there. bringing someone into his family's world is a big deal for him - but it would make him so happy to have you in it.

not that he doesn't love being a dad - he clearly does! but eli's life has been centered around taking care of yenna, handling hostel's issues, working hard to make ends meet...he's never really thought about who he is outside of that.

with you, eli feels like he can explore life more freely. he feels appreciated - maybe even a little carefree in a way that’s new for him. with you, even though the pressures and responsibilities are still there, he feels lighter. he remembers he has dreams and aspirations like anyone else. for the first time in ages, he feels like he can be just eli.

he hasn't properly liked anyone since heather - and even that's slightly different. this time, he actually knows what he's feeling. and if there's even a slight chance you'd want to be with him, he would do everything he can to make you happy - just as much as you make him.

eli acknowledges that it's a lot to ask, having a child in the picture. still, should that always prevent him from pursuing a relationship? if he gets that privilege, he would only want you. you would give him (and yenna) so much joy.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

eli's words are filled with quiet hope, his cheeks pink as his confessions spill out.

even if you don’t feel the same way, having you in his life, even as a friend, means the world to him. he doesn't want to lose that.

if eli can't be with you, he can live with it, but he doesn't want to wonder if he missed the chance to tell you.

2. JAKE

this man is filled with such angst and anguish 😂🤦🏽‍♀️

BTW - i think by this point, you'll know his job + past actions. you were unnerved when he admitted it...but jake has faced the repercussions (partly). he still has interests and hobbies like everyone else, he's still good company. you can't bring yourself to fully judge him, because you've never been in that position.

jake wasn't going to say anything. it's less messy, less selfish, if he keeps his feelings to himself.

that doesn't stop you from occupying his head though. he can't help but wonder what you're doing. are you safe? are you happy? if not, could he make you happy? ...possibly?

still, he pushes these thoughts away.

it's only when members of big deal notice his spacing out and lapses in concentration that he thinks: okay...i should probably do something.

he'd rather hear your rejection than keep wondering if there's a chance...+ to not have you (unknowingly) interfere with his duties.

first things first though, he needs some advice.

he'd totallyyy go to sinu. i can picture it so clearly 😂 jake is a smooth talker, but he's never actually liked someone. he can't talk his way though this. (he can try, but he'd fail miserably)

sinu would be so chuffed that his (practically) little brother is coming to him for relationship advice. (i never thought i'd see the day...you're all grown up. and he wipes a tear 😭) given jake's lack of interest in dating, he's pleasantly surprised at his change of heart! you must have had a big impact on him.

jake asks if sinu felt guilty liking yeonhui, considering his role in big deal. he was perceived as a gang leader back then...did sinu ever feel like she deserves better than that?

sinu gets nostalgic and starts reminiscing about his relationship 😅 jake zones out halfway through, wondering why he even bothered to ask in the first place.

EVENTUALLY THOUGH, he reels it back in and gets #serious 🙂‍↕️ something like: how long will you let your role and past define you?

the gist of sinu's speech: sure, jake has done bad things. (...worst than most people) but he shouldn't let that hold him back. jake can still try be something better, he's not some heartless monster. there's no harm in being honest, he'll never know what could happen.

jake is gobsmacked... a man of passion indeed.

i think he'd confess to you at the sea side! (where samuel found out who jake's dad was) he'd rather watch the waves than your confused face.

he tells big deal to stay away from that area, because he has important business there. (jake knows they'd be spying from a distance if he didn't 😭)

i think he'd practice in the mirror beforehand...but it does nothing to settle his nerves (-.-)

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

jake likes you. he knows it's unexpected and out of the blue, but he has to tell you.

you don't realise how amazing you are, how smart, how caring. it's the little things...helping jerry with his homework (god knows no one else can) or paying for your meals even though it's not necessary - he'll always let you eat for free. + plus the food is lowkey shit anyway <3

...or how well you get along with the girls. (they constantly tell him to ask you out 😪)

he knows he's not worthy. there's people who can easily give you their undivided attention. you deserve only the best...and he's the furthest thing from that. but he wishes he could be.

he doesn't want you to think he's the same person as before. you deserve someone way better than an ex-convict. jake wishes he could change the past - so badly. he regrets not trying harder for a better solution back then, just for the opportunity to take you on a date...to be with you.

jake wants to be the best version of himself. you make him think that being a better person could change some of his past...and eventually make him worthy of someone like you.

and if there's even a sliver of hope you feel the same way, that you'd give him the honour of being his first...everything, he'll do everything in his power to be a boyfriend you can be proud of.

he doesn't need you to say anything, jake would never pressure you for a yes or no. he just needed to say the truth, to be honest with you - and himself.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

jake kim, who's always so sarcastic and sure of himself, is suddenly so nervous and quiet before you. it's a side you've never seen of him.

there's a lot to consider. sometimes you'd never see jake, he'll be in danger a lot, and if he really had to - he'd be ruthless again to protect big deal. he knows that too.

even so, he's pouring his heart out, trying so hard for you...and you don't even think you're that great, to be honest.

you find your cheeks flushing at his words, and the earnest way in which he utters them.

3. JOHAN

johan...i found him hard to write. i don't like this little mouse.

if you like someone, you should probably tell them. johan would rather die. but eventually, not saying anything has gotten more painful than the prospect of confessing.

he hasn't liked anyone since mira and that feels like...a lifetime ago. so, he (very reluctantly) goes to zack for help.

zack would be sooo annoying about it, he'll never let him live it down. johan seong coming to him for dating advice...another indicator that their worlds are healing ❤️ he shuts up though when johan threatens to beat his ass.

i think zack would give the same bs advice he gave to vasco in the blind date arc 😭😭

─ alright...you really wanna know? let me give you a piece of advice i told a certain knuckle head. Be gentle...but fast. Be manly...but kind.

─ wait...have you got together with mira yet?

─ all in good time johan...all in good time. (zack taps his noggin 🧏🏻)

so that was useless.

there is another person he can go to though...mother knows best, as they say 🫡 johan would invite you to have dinner at his place, just a causal meal...obviously 😁

─ so you're johan's friend! it's great to finally meet you. help yourself! (he got his cutie patootie genes from his mom)

johan's mom gives him playful nudges when your back is turned 💘 he silently pleads with her to cut it out.

now that he has his mother's seal of approval, he feels ready to...confess or whatever.

i think johan would confess to you while sitting at the river with eden + miro. (the one where lua pushed him in 💔)

unlike eli and jake, johan's confession isn't planned. he decides to tell you when it feels right. and this place feels right.

he'd be avoiding eye contact the WHOLEEE time 😭 his face would be so red too...a cutie patootie to the max.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

johan starts by talking about the little things, like how his dogs are always happy when they see you. eden and miro get so jumpy and excited when you come over, as if they can sense how much he cares about you. it's something he can speak about easily - they're a big part of his life.

and his mom - johan's mom is so important to him. her approval means a lot…and she definitely approves (of you). she really likes you, especially after that dinner at his house. his mom is his rock in so many ways, the fact that she sees what he sees, means the world to him.

johan hid behind a stoic facade for so long. he's grateful to zack and mira for showing him that having feelings for someone…it can be a beautiful thing. with you, he feels more okay stepping out of that shell. maybe it's the way you always listen when he talks…or how you're there for him without making a big deal out of it…or how you celebrate the small things with him. (aka…barely passing english)

the professions are still foreign to him. it’s not just about liking you, it’s about the vulnerability that comes with it. he’s afraid of how this might change things between you two. but, johan knows hiding it would only make things worse. he can’t keep pretending like nothing’s there. it’s been weighing on him for so long.

still, he’s ready to face that fear of vulnerability, to show you all the sides to him. he’s letting you in — not just with his feelings for you, but with his whole self, all the things he’s kept locked away. for johan, that’s a huge deal.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

the man who united all of gangbuk, who went toe to toe with gun park...is suddenly so shy and awkward right now. truly a rare sight.

he's mumbling almost every sentence and you have to scoot closer to hear him, which definitely doesn't help things.

johan is thankful for eden and miro's barking for once, it fills the silence that passes.

it's not the smoothest confession, but that’s exactly what makes it sweet - he's showing you a bit of his heart by saying nothing and everything at the same time.

4. SAMUEL

he'd confess you're his fav BOOTY CALL maybe!

an actual confession of his: when samuel sees cheap instant noodle packs in the store, he can't help but think of big deal.

If it means I can eat better food later...I don't mind eating here now.

but he's annoyed the lavish food he can buy now doesn't quite fill him up the same way.

✿ who would have you blushing the most?

A/N: first date headcanons next?? 🤷🏽‍♀️ if ppl like this one too

[mcrololo]

Bechloe fic recs

(in no particular order)

You Make Me Believe In Magic by @shikariix

In the opening stood a woman with a tiny frame, bending forward slightly and breathing heavily. The light pouring in from behind her made it hard to see just how dirty and scratched up her clothing was. “Hey, uh,” she started loudly, still panting, “not to freak anyone out or whatever, but there's kind of a dragon on the loose. You all gotta evacuate.”

What can I say? It's got magic, it's got dragons, it's got gay flirting AND a kick-ass moodboard that inspired the whole shebang. Exactly up my alley, and if you said 'hell yeah Rolo, me too!' then what are you waiting for!! (nudges the author to write the soft epilogue i so truly desire) (in the meantime also read this new years one-shot & also this incredible piece of writing by my love and heart)

All is fair in Love and War by @pulledpurplecurtains

It's not about having feelings. It's about what you do with them. There's never a choice where the heart is concerned. The mind, however…the mind always comes up with choices. And sometimes life tends to happen as well.

Honestly I'm due for a reread of this but I remember immensely enjoying this fic. I certainly had a blast getting the go ahead to analyze it, almost as much as Ana probably had writing it! They're in high school, they're in gay love & also they are idiots. What else would you need?

"Something angsty, Rolo," you might say. And boy do I have the fic for you by the same author! (read the tags, be mindful of the warnings)

it takes two (to be santa claus) by @becasbelt

With their marriage on the brink of divorce, Beca and Chloe vow to do whatever it takes to give their daughter one last perfect Christmas- even if it means tracking down a rare American Girl doll two weeks before Christmas.

I know I already recommended this the other day but I just... It's so fucking good. I don't have words. Actually I do, go read it y'all (and when you're done then also read the cream in my coffee by the same author because I'm also still thinking about that one.

i think (s)he knows by @pinkpastels113

The Starbucks espresso machine broke again and Chloe is supposed to be taking care of everything, but the mechanic who showed up to fix it is making her job more difficult than it already was.

I forgot how much I love me a coffeeshop AU until I read this one. I don't often see flustered Chloe Beale in fic but here it's so blatant and I adore it so much!! I need more flustered Chloe Beale in my life pls (also go read this one too it's so fun!)

All I Ask of You by @kailoraurelius

From day one, Beca has always been there for her. If Chloe can count on anything, it's Beca. So now, pacing her kitchen anxiously, she waits for Beca to show up. Chloe has something very important to tell her…

Listen, Stained Glass will always have a special place in my heart, but I think AIAOY actually knocked it off its place because the found family characterization in this one just HITS. It's off the charts!! It's got everything; love, humor, and me on the floor crying (positive!) tears because the writing is so so beautifully descriptive.

naked in manhattan by @afh48

"Hi, it's Chloe! I know you just landed, and I know you're probably busy. But I would love to see you! So call me when you can!"

From the first chapter onwards I was HOOKED. I love experimental works and what is a first ever fic if not finding your writers voice? I enjoyed the journey of unlearning internalized homophobia; of characters clearly making decisions that were bad for them because of fear. But the fluff is the sweet, sweet cherry on top!

those days turned into nights by hedaswolf (the baddestwolf)

Beca kisses Chloe in the heat of the moment after winning Worlds. Of course, she proceeds to avoid the topic altogether. You can imagine Chloe’s surprise when Beca suggests they change their flights so they can drive to Stockholm in search of Swedish Princess Cake. But how long can Chloe go without bringing up the kiss? or, the Denmark to Sweden roadtrip fic that no one asked for

I swooned reading this. It's romantic, it's funny, it's angsty because they're pining idiots.... On top of that it's in 2nd pov and I LOVE 2nd pov <3

Life on Shuffle by @yelena-belover

“I know you don’t know me, Beca. But I’ve basically known you my whole life.” Bechloe // The Time Traveler's Wife AU -- Beca Mitchell suffers from Chrono-Impairment, a rare genetic disorder that causes her to spontaneously and uncontrollably time travel. Living life out of order isn't easy for Beca, and it's just as hard for Chloe, who struggles to cope with her frequent, often dangerous absences.

Chapter 8 and 11 shattered me in all possible ways. The way this fic weaves the timeline together so seamlessly... Time fuckery is hard to write, and it needs to be done right in order to feel satisfying; though still an ongoing fic, this one does it so masterfully that it scratched all of my itches as is.

Forgive Me These November Days by @obstinate-questionings

Why Chloe Beale didn’t graduate—and why she finally did—as told through yearly celebrations of Thanksgiving.

This fic made me take the first step into loving myself. imho it's one of the best Chloe Beale character studies out there and I genuinely can not stop thinking about it. If you're having a rainy day and need a pick-me-up, I definitely recommend reading this!

[sschizoid]

Hello again :3 idk if you did something like this in the past (sorry if you did I'm new to the blog :( ) but you ever did the tulpar crew in an AU they survive the crash? Like how their lives are going now?

tbh I've actually never really thought about it! but I'm up for the challenge ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ

--

curly

(ignoring the fact that in a realistic setting, his injuries would have most definitely killed him) when rescued, he's got hypothermia, sepsis, blast lung, as well as a laundry list of other complications. it's a miracle he's even alive. his burns are treated through a series of xenographs

he's deaf, as the explosion ruptured his eardrums, and his vocal chords have been effectively fried, so after a series of surgeries and physical/speech therapies, he's left only able to communicate with an eye-tracker until his laryngeal burns are eventually healed. even then, his voice remains scratchy and rough

he's not the man he once was. he has a particularly rough time adjusting to and accepting his new life, as well as dealing with extensive pain and trauma from the crash, but his support system is incredibly strong. he eventually comes to terms with his situation and becomes an ambassador for talking about workplace negligence and the importance of mental health awareness

and he blames himself for everything

jimmy

when initially rescued, everyone is in so much shock that nobody thinks to even mention him being the catalyst of just absolutely everything. but once the shock wears off and people start talking, his deeds are soon brought to light, and he is promptly sent to a maximum-security psychiatric hospital for an indefinite amount of time. he is never charged or held criminally responsible for his crimes on the grounds of insanity

he feels nothing. after months on the ship, his body, mind, and emotions being in absolute overdrive, he can't even find it in himself to feel anger anymore. to feel guilt. to feel anything. its as if a switch has been flipped, and all he hears is a perpetual ringing in his ears as the underlying thought echos that he should have aimed the gun higher

anya

after a lengthy court battle with extensive news coverage, her and the rest of the crew are individually awarded with a hefty sum of compensation due to physical and emotional damages. she's able to take a deep breath, knowing that the medical bills she had from getting her stomach pumped were easily covered, as well as her utilities and rent, for awhile

she miscarries from a combination of stress, malnutrition, and of course, her overdose. her emotions are... well, she doesn't really know what to feel. part of her feels relief, obviously, but the other feels a sick sort of grief that she cannot understand. to cope with these emotions, she finds an online support system for those who have gone through similar experiences as well as a therapist, and curates an environment for healing/moving forward

after taking a few months to herself, healing and spending time with loves ones, she eventually finds the drive to head back to nursing school. while there, she meets a girl whom she grows to be very close with, one who almost loves her cat as much as she does

swansea

just absolutely numb and jaded in every sense of the way. it takes a great deal of effort for him to open up regarding not only the head trauma, but the mental trauma as well. his family eventually drills it into his thick skull that being vulnerable around the people you love isn't weak, and in fact, its one of the bravest things you can do. putting his pride aside, he learns mindfulness, how to open up, and how to accept the help people want to give to him

he has frequent nightmares, mostly revolving what he did to daisuke, but his dog sleeps at the foot of his bed and is quick to wake him up with a few licks to the hand when he's displaying frantic behaviors. after awhile, the two of them finally meet up, and daisuke ensures swansea that he did what he thought was right. and he forgives him

spends a lot more time outside these days. goes on walks, travels with his wife, even has his coffee on the patio instead of somewhere like his desk or couch. he finds that his memory isn't the best anymore, but when he can, he remembers to appreciate the little things in life

daisuke

it all feels like a dream, really. one moment, he's floating through clouds and running through a river, the next, he's awake. in a hospital, and everything hurts. he wakes up with his family at his side, as well as gifts, bouquets of flowers and balloon arrangements. his mother feels guilty beyond belief. daisuke tells her it's not her fault and that he loves her

the surgeons did a pretty bang-up job at patching him back together, the only real evidence of his physical trauma being a faint diagonal divide between his eyes after he's fully healed. he's not quite as symmetrical as he once was, but he says the scar makes him look 'rugged'. he actually hates it, but keeps that to himself

takes a break from the workforce and goes to college, but actually stays in the field of electrical engineering. its what he's found himself to be good at, and passes his introductory classes with relative ease, thanks to the knowledge swansea drilled into him

--

this one actually took me a long time to piece together as I tried to make it as realistic as possible. hope you enjoy!

[thisisjustfanfic]

"I Know Him"

A little drabble about Zayne knowing Caleb and their past. I got a little worm in my brain and had to write a little. (Done as a writing warmup for larger session)

{SFW, Zayne x Reader, Caleb x Reader, Reader is MC}

Read on ao3

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

Zayne Knows Caleb

As a child, you don’t notice things like adults do. You don’t think about the subtext of a person’s actions or their words. Things just are when you’re a child.

Growing up after the Chronoshift Catastrophe was an odd experience, but only from the outside, because to the children it was just the new normal. Adults did their best to shelter the youth from the truth and protect their fragile innocence, regardless of how scared they might be. 

Everyone had lost someone, some had lost more than others. Zayne’s parents had pulled him aside one evening to speak candidly about how while he still had his mother and father, the other children might not and he should be sensitive of that. 

You were one of those children. One of the many left without a family or a home. His parent’s had noticed the two of you interacting more in the neighborhood, and thought it prudent to warn him. 

After that talk, he remembers looking at you a little differently. In that, he actually looked at you. Before you were just another child in the sandbox, or climbing a tree. You weren’t really a face or a name. Not until then. Then is when he really looked at you. At your carefree smile. At the ease with which you talked to others. And he remembers thinking, surely his parents must be wrong. You were so happy. 

Caleb was another of those children, but when Zayne was warned about him things began to make sense. Caleb was quieter than you were but not by much, and he always had something to say in regards to the way things were done or how they were executed. Like an irritated parent telling the children how to behave. 

Maybe Caleb had stepped into place for you, and that’s why you still smiled so easily. Or maybe you just were stronger than other children. Zayne wasn’t sure which to think. 

As a child, the behavior was inexplicable. As an adult, Zayne could decipher the signs. 

You were sweet because you didn’t know anyway else to be, and you knew that your smile made others smile. You were kind. Honest. Brilliant. 

Perhaps, even then, Zayne had loved you. In that innocent, shimmery way that children loved. He orbited you like a star, and he was but a dwarf planet. Too small to be recognized, and too nervous to speak his mind. 

Though, maybe if he had…if he had made it clearer how important you were to him back then, then Caleb wouldn’t have been so bold. 

As a child, Caleb had just been annoying. Bossy and too controlling. He had to tell Zayne and the other kids what to do and how to do it. The worst was his claim on you. 

“I’m like her brother now!” Caleb would bark at the others, “So it’s my job to make sure she’s safe!”

Infantile, truly. But a warning sign that someone should have seen. Certainly no child would have been able to recognize the budding obsession your pseudo-brother was forming for you. 

“No! You can't tag her!” Caleb had shouted more than once during a simple game of tag. “She doesn’t count! Go after someone else!”

OTher adults probably thought it was sweet. Zayne, looking back, would have thought so too, but other times…

“You can’t be on anyone else’s team, ok?” Zayne caught Caleb whispering to you one day. “You’re only really safe with me, and so we have to stick together.”

You nodded happily to him, and Zayne, for the first time in his life, felt the corrosiveness of jealousy. Why couldn’t he get you to smile like that? Why did Caleb make it look so easy?

When they were getting close to their teenage years, the memories are clearer and perhaps Caleb learned to be more subtle. 

“I don’t want to live here when I’m older,” Caleb said to you as the three of you sat in a tree at the edge of the neighborhood, “We should find a place quieter than this. The city makes my head hurt.”

Zayne knew he wasn’t talking to him. Only to you. You just laughed and mentioned your fondness for Linkon, and your desire to become a hunter. 

They were twelve and Zayne was finally old enough to realize that his heart racing when you were around wasn’t just a coincidence. He’d gotten a hang oof his evol by that point, and would use it to show off sometimes. Snow in the summer. Freezing your drink. Leaving you a seal made of snow. 

It was that last gift that must have been too far. Caleb caught him alone, fire in his violet eyes. 

“I heard you lost control of your evol.” Caleb said with his arms crossed. His juvenile brow furrowed.

Zayne was surprised and ashamed. It’d been a few days ago. A slip up where his evol got out of control and he left half the park covered in ice. There hadn’t been many people there– you weren’t there, and Caleb wasn’t either. How did he find out?

Caleb must have seen the confusion on Zayne’s face and scoffed, “Stay away from her. It’s my job to make sure she stays safe, and you’ll put her in danger if you can’t control yourself.”

Zayne opened his mouth to argue, Caleb’s possession over you having finally gone too far. But Caleb stopped him.

“Do you want to kill her?” Caleb hissed, taking a step forward to step into Zayne’s space. “You know what she’s like! She’ll go running to help you and you’ll end up– ugh. Just– just, stay away.”

Caleb turned on his heel and left, not giving Zayne even a moment to argue. And the longer he thought about it, maybe Caleb was right. 

Was he too dangerous to be around you? Your heart condition was already scary enough, but what if you were around when his evol lost control? What if you– perfect and compassionate– tried to help him. 

Zayne decided that day he wouldn’t go back to your side until he could control it. Until there wasn’t a question whether or not you were safe. 

Because if he hurt you, he’d never forgive himself. But now, as an adult, Zayne would neither forgive Caleb either.