#and people have probably already said all this before

[pucksandpower]

Drunk in Love

Max Verstappen x fiancée!Reader

Summary: in which Max gets drunk, forgets that the two of you are literally engaged, confesses his love for you, and then gets reminded that his ring is on your finger … in that order

Based on this request

The lights from Jimmy’z spill out onto the sidewalk, a dizzying kaleidoscope of reds, purples, and blues. You stand just outside, arms crossed, as your phone buzzes for the third time in five minutes. It’s Daniel this time.

“Hey,” he says, voice just slightly too cheerful to be innocent. “So, uh, Max is-”

“I’m already here.”

“Oh, perfect. He’s …” Daniel hesitates, and you can practically see him scratching the back of his neck. “He’s just a little … spirited tonight.”

Spirited. That’s one way to put it.

You hang up before he can add anything else and glance toward the club entrance. Max stumbles out a few seconds later, propped up by Lando, who looks like he’s trying not to laugh. Max’s head lolls to the side, and when he spots you, his entire face lights up like you’ve just walked out of a movie.

“Hey!” He yells, voice loud enough to make a couple passing tourists glance over. “It’s you!”

You sigh, stepping forward to take him off Lando’s hands. “Thanks,” you mutter to the younger driver, who just grins.

“Good luck,” Lando says, clapping you on the shoulder before disappearing back into the club.

Max leans heavily on you, his arm slung over your shoulders. “You came for me,” he says, slurring slightly. “You’re like an angel. My angel.”

“Uh-huh,” you deadpan, guiding him toward the car. “Let’s get you home, Max.”

He stops abruptly, digging his heels into the pavement. “No, wait.”

You look up at him, exasperated. “What?”

“I need to tell you something.”

“Can it wait until we’re in the car?”

“No!” He insists, voice rising. “It’s important.”

You glance around, feeling the curious stares of a few people lingering nearby. “Okay, fine. What is it?”

Max wobbles slightly, gripping your arm like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. His eyes are glassy but serious as he looks at you. “I’m in love with you.”

You blink. “What?”

“I love you,” he repeats, louder this time. Then, almost conspiratorially, he leans closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Like, really love you. You’re … you’re perfect.”

“Max …” You hesitate, unsure how to respond.

“No, listen!” He says, pulling back to look at you. “You don’t understand. I’ve been in love with you for … forever. But I didn’t know how to say it, and now it’s too late, because you probably think I’m some idiot who-”

“Max,” you interrupt, placing a hand on his chest to steady him. “We’re engaged.”

His brow furrows. “What?”

“We’re engaged,” you repeat, holding up your left hand where the ring glints under the streetlights.

Max stares at it like he’s never seen it before. “No way.”

“Yes, way.”

His face splits into a grin so wide it’s almost childlike. “No. Way.”

“Yes, Max. We’re literally engaged. Have been for months.”

He takes your hand in his, squinting at the ring. “Holy shit. That’s a nice ring.”

You snort despite yourself. “You picked it.”

“I did?” He looks genuinely astonished.

“Yes, you did. And you cried when I said yes, remember?”

“I cried?”

“Like a baby.”

He lets out a delighted laugh, the kind that starts in his chest and bubbles all the way up. “I’m a genius,” he declares, throwing his arms in the air. “I got you to say yes!”

“Yes, Maxie. You did.”

He pulls you into a hug, nearly knocking you off balance. “I’m so lucky,” he mumbles into your hair. “Like, stupid lucky.”

“You’re also stupid drunk,” you point out, but there’s no bite to your words.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes wide and earnest. “Do you love me?”

You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “Of course I love you, you idiot.”

He beams at you, his happiness so pure it’s almost contagious. “Good. That’s good. Because I’m going to marry you.”

“Yes, Max. You are.”

“And I’m never going to mess it up.”

“Not if you keep calling me to pick you up from clubs at two in the morning.”

He looks horrified. “Wait, did I call you?”

“No,” you admit, “Daniel did.”

Max groans, burying his face in his hands. “That traitor.”

“Come on,” you say, tugging him toward the car. “Let’s get you home before you pass out on the sidewalk.”

As you help him into the passenger seat, he grabs your hand again, his grip surprisingly firm. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he says, his voice softer now.

“I know,” you reply, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

He closes his eyes, a contented smile playing on his lips. “I’m going to marry the hell out of you,” he murmurs as you buckle him in.

You shake your head, climbing into the driver’s seat. “You already are.”

And as you pull away from the curb, he’s still grinning like he’s just won the championship all over again.

[dear-ao3]

friends, besties, worsties, davids, and meow meows of the jury. i have a tale for you. while i claim to be no bard (like saph, the queen of very long dramatic tumblr stories that make your heart weep), i must spin a wee bit of yarn in the form of a story. what story? a story of the green cake.

we shall, as most stories do, start almost at the beginning.

the date? january 2nd.

the time? late.

the occasion? saph comes home the third.

the problem? i have no butter or sugar.

now, saph's birthday was recently, so like any other best bud i said i was making a cake. i believe my exact words were 'i'm making you a cake whether you like it or not."

now, gang, i must level with you. this is the fourth cake i've made in my life. i am a reasonably good baker (i can bake a Mean Loaf of Bread), but i'm not a very experienced baker. 3/4 cakes were reasonably good, and only one was just slightly off. so, my track record is mixed, but i am hopeful.

now, let me take you to the present.

i am sitting at my dining room table, typing this post. i am wearing a shirt covered in flour, the green cake is in the oven.

how did i get here?

well, we won't go to the beginning. we've already seen what was basically the beginning, with me having no butter or sugar. the real story begins the morning of january 3rd. which is today. which is when saph comes home, expecting a green cake. as most reasonably well adjusted people do when their roommates parents are visiting, i stressed cleaned the entire apartment at 4am, after realizing the mice in my walls are fucking. i did not leave them a condom. i did not have one that would fit them. i can only hope they have plan b. so naturally, i went to bed at 6am.

and i still had no sugar or butter for the green cake for saph.

and i needed to get started on this cake before 10am, or saph would be here before it was finished.

and i went to bed at 6am. so naturally i set my 9:00, 9:02, 9:04, 9:06 alarms, and hoped i'd lock in when i woke up.

friends, i hate to admit it, but i did not lock in. nay, i slept through all of my alarms and woke up at roughly 9:45. it was cold, damp, and the mice were still probably fucking. i threw my hair into a messy bun, and ran downstairs, only to find my mom was selling me to one direction.

jk. it was far worse.

because saph said she had sent me something.

what did saph send me?

a full poster of david malukas! do i know why? no! but he lives in my kitchen now, providing me with mental support. thanks david!

so, i begin to make the cake after laughing for about 10 minutes about why david is now in my apartment. it starts off surprisingly well. i have not forgotten the salt.

everything is normal.

until i remember.

the cake needs to be green.

why? idk thats what saph said she wanted so i am just going to do what i was told to do and make this damn cake green.

but its now late in the process, and if there is one thing i have learned in all my years of watching the great british baking show with my mom, it is to never over beat your cake.

and my cake, right now, was perfect. trust me. i ate plenty of dough to know it was wonderful.

so now i am trying to figure out how to make the most perfect shade of nico rosberg green, feeling a bit like an alchemist. david malukas is staring me down. my time grows shorter and shorter with each beat.

and then, gang, i had to give up on this being nico rosberg green. i did not want to kill my cake. my green cake. my now mint-green cake that i am baking for saph. so naturally i'm like, okay, time to pour this.

easy, right?

WRONG.

so one thing to know about me is i suck at cutting things.

it's unfortunately a key ingredient in cake making that you have a stupid little circle on the bottom of your cake tins. i cut it the best i could. which was bad. so i'm already fighting demons trying to get the stupid parchment paper from sliding every which way, and then, my friends, i realized something horrible.

the batter had not mixed at the bottom. so now i was fighting even more demons and trying not to get loose flour in my cake.

i think i succeeded. only time will tell. david is watching. the cake is almost done.

i am setting the green cake free.

look upon him now, and weep. the green cake prevails! even though he doesn't look very green yet.

and now, for the hardest part. frosting.

let's see how that goes.

david still watches.

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 7

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Happy New Year! Chapter count is continuing to go up, because I need to halve this chapter after hitting 6k. Should be 10 parts. Hopefully.

Arthur did eventually show up with enough McDonald’s in tow to feed an army. 

Fries, Nuggets and even including apology milkshakes.

“I am really sorry,” her little brother apologised to her, looking distraught.

Colette exhaled slowly, trying her hardest not to laugh at the sheepish look on Arthur's face.

"The next time, maybe you should think before you post. But then I clearly didn’t do that either,” she said drily.

“I mean, karma is the guy in the car coming straight home to me, did amuse me very much,” Vic said brightly.

Arthur blushed deeply, and ducked his head in embarrassment. He set down the bags of takeout on the counter, and then looked up to her to apologize again, his eyes wide like a puppy begging for forgiveness.

"Come here," Colette said with a sigh, holding out her arms for him. "I love you, ma petite puce."

"Colette!" Arthur complained with a grimace, but she just grinned.

"Oh you'll always be my little flea," she teased her younger brother.

"Oh god, don't call me that," Arthur complained, letting her pull him into a tight hug. He let out a long suffering sigh. "I said I was sorry!"

"I know you are," she said, patting the top of his brown hair, even when that meant that she needed to stand on her tiptoes to reach. "But the fact remains that you were an idiot before."

Arthur groaned in embarrassment and dropped his head to her shoulder in defeat.

"Eat your fries," his voice was muffled. "And please tell me you have some salad or something in the fridge so Max doesn't kill me for feeding you nothing but junk food."

"I do have some salad in the fridge," Colette said and ruffled his hair. "I'll eat lots of veggies, I promise. And I’ll even tell Maxie that I blackmailed you into getting me fries, if you want,” she suggested brightly.  

Vic just snorted. "Let's just get that back in the living room and we can put on Sky News and bitch about the commentators."

"You guys are awful," Arthur protested, but he was already gathering their food and following along obediently. "The comments on Sky Sports are not nearly as bad as you make them out to be..."

Colette rolled her eyes and instead collapsed onto the couch, wriggling to get comfortable, because her back was still killing her.

Arthur was also very wrong. Danica Patricks definitively was that bad. Colette could just stare at the train wreck in front of her.

"Vic. Why in the world has Sky Jos on there to talk about Maxie's anger issues. What anger issues?" she demanded. Max didn’t have anger issues. Who in the world had come up with that? This was utterly ridiculous!

Victoria stared at her. "You don't know?!" she asked, sounding shocked.

"Know what?" Colette demanded. "Enzo deleted every social media app in existence from my phone. Why do people think that Max of all people has anger issues?!"

"George Russell," Arthur mumbled. "He said some...things."

Things. George Russell had said some things. 

Colette sat up a little straight at that, her eyes widening in disbelief. "What things?" she demanded. "What did he say?"

Victoria and Arthur exchange a look.

"He may have said that he wouldn't want Max to date his sister because he is sure that his girlfriend is the one dealing with his anger issues?" Arthur offered.

"He. Said. What?" Colette bit out.

No wonder there had been this tone in Max's voice when they had talked this morning...No wonder he had sounded upset, when that George fucking Russell had pretty much accused him of hurting her. And of course, he hadn't wanted to worry her, so of course, he hadn't told her.

Victoria reached out and grasped her elbow, as if she worried Colette would jump up and attack the screen.

"You need to stay calm," Vic said firmly. "You can't get worked up, it's not good for you, and it's not good for the baby," she warned her.

"I will murder George Russell," Colette growled in response.

"No murder," Victoria said in a no-nonsense voice. "You can't kill him, he's not worth it. And you can't have this stress, for your health. And the baby."

Colette huffed but she was still seething.

Only to then have Danica Patrick pipe up from the TV Screen: "What are your thoughts on your son’s supposed anger issues?"

"He doesn't have anger issues!" Colette snapped. "I have anger issues right now! I am going to find George Russell and punch him in the face!"

Arthur stared at her with an ill-hidden combination of horror and fascination.

Victoria laughed again, but it was mostly out of surprise and disbelief. "Well, at least we know that your temper is firmly intact," she said dryly.

"I'm sure Max is going to loooove seeing you this worked up over this," Arthur grumbled.

Colette had a lot of problems with Max's father, but at least for once she actually agreed with him:

"On the circuit…as soon as Max lowers his visor, he turns into a lion. He is really motivated and the only thing that matters is winning. It was always in him. What I see in Max now, I saw in karting," Jos answered Danica's question. "But that’s not the same Max you see when he is at home. On the race track, he is a lion, but at home, he’s a teddy bear. He got that from Sophie. He’s very sweet, very gentle…Incredible protective of the people he cares about."

For the first time in recent history, Colette found herself agreeing wholeheartedly with Jos Verstappen.

"He is a teddy bear," she mumbled in agreement. "The sweetest thing on earth. And that bastard has no idea what he's talking about," she bit out.

"Of course Max is a lion on the track," Arthur said with a scoff. "We've witnessed that ourselves. Everyone in the paddock knows that Max is a machine when he's in his race car, but George has his head up his ass if he thinks that Max is aggressive off the circuit."

"We all know that Maxie is the gentlest, most generous person out there," Victoria agreed, shaking her head. "George Russell is clearly jealous and is making stuff up just to get attention."

Colette just huffed.

"So you don't think he has anger issues?" Danica Patrick pushed.

"What kind of a stupid question is that?" Colette grumbled in response, her shoulders taut with anger.

Arthur laughed and Victoria squeezed her arm.

"No," Jos answered flatly.

Danica Patrick, who was clearly fishing for a different reply, seemed a little thrown by the firm response. But she rallied quickly enough to pivot: "And what can you tell us about your son’s relationship with Colette Leclerc?"

"Oh, come on!" Colette snapped.

"They have been together for a very long time," Jos replied simply, his accent strong as ever. "…since back in Karting. I don’t think anybody believed that that relationship would last, but they did prove everybody wrong."

The answer was unexpectedly charming and sincere.

Colette found herself blinking at that, surprised at how fond he sounded when talking about her and Max. Even Arthur was gaping stupidly, and it looked like Victoria was struggling not to choke on her drink from surprise.

"I think the great thing about Colette is that she understands his life, his career. She has a brother who does the same job as Max, so she was always incredibly supportive of him," Jos continued. "She is there for him. She supports him completely, and she’s been there for him through the good times and the bad. I don’t think Max would be the man he is today without her."

Arthur and Victoria stared at the screen with dropped jaws, stunned into silence.

"Is that Jos actually giving a heartfelt compliment?" Arthur muttered in disbelief.

“I think he is?” Victoria responded questioningly. This was certainly a new experience for everyone.

On the screen, Jos continued: "I have been watching their relationship for over half of Max's life, and Max really did pick the right girl."

"Your son hasn’t talked a lot about his relationship," Danica said leadingly.

"Oh, you won’t get anything from him," Jos said with a snort. "He’s very protective over her, always has been. Especially with her in her current condition."

Colette’s eyes widened and she immediately put a hand over her stomach in a protective gesture. 

"Fuck," Victoria cursed.

“Did he seriously just do that?” Arthur croaked. “Did he just tell all of F1 - no, all of the world - that Colette is pregnant?”

All three of them just gaped at the TV.

Danica Patricks looked like a vampire that had just tasted blood. "Her current condition?" she asked, her voice honeyed sweet.

"Yes," Jos confirmed simply. "The baby is supposed to come any day now. We’re all incredibly excited for the new addition to the family. I mean, it took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough."

He said like it was a joke. Like it hadn't taken them the better part of 3 years and 2 miscarriages.

Colette’s whole body had tensed, her heart clenching painfully in her chest as the words echoed in her mind: It took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough. Those words felt like a punch to the gut - like a mockery of all the pain and disappointment and suffering.

All the stress and anxiety and anguish that they had gone through. All the tears and the desperation and prayers for a miracle.

And all of it reduced to a cheap, dirty joke.

"I am going to throttle him," Victoria said, her voice shaking.

"Get in line," Arthur grumbled, looking equally enraged.

Colette just sat there staring fixedly at the screen, feeling like her whole mind had gone numb.

It was one thing when Jos made his snide little comments to them, but it was quite another when he decided to talk about that on international TV. He made it sound like their troubles to conceive had only been a matter of not trying hard enough.

It felt like a gut punch. Colette had always known that Jos had no idea how hard the last couple of years had been for them, but now, in light of his comment, it sounded like he somehow assumed it had all been their own fault.

They had kept both miscarriages quiet...had only shared it with a handful of people. She knew that Max had told Vic about it, but he had never told his father.

Her hands were shaking with anger. The urge to throw something - anything - was almost overwhelming as the words echoed in her head over and over: It took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough.

How could he have been so cruel? How could he go and announce it on international television and make it sound like it hadn’t been the hardest thing that either of them had ever been through?

It felt like a betrayal. Colette had never expected much out of Max’s father, but this? This felt like twisting the knife in a still-healing wound and pouring salt into it.

It felt like a stab to the back. Jos had no idea. No idea how hard it had been to keep the hope up. No idea how much it had hurt with every failed test and every lost dream. And no idea how much they both had longed for the baby that was growing within her.

And now he was just treating it like it had been a matter of not working hard enough, as if it had been an easy task and they had simply taken their sweet time to do something that came naturally to most people.

Her mind would have continued to turn into circles...if there hadn't been a sudden stabbing pain low in her abdomen.

Colette winced as the pain flared. It was a shock, and her hands immediately flew down to press against the source of the pain.

"Are you alright?" Victoria asked immediately. Colette clenched her teeth as the cramping pain seemed to grow even worse, before easing.

"Just...just a cramp," Colette managed to breathe out. "It's fine. It's fine. I just- it just startled me, that's all."

She tried to assure herself that it was nothing. Just Braxton Hicks - just the body preparing for the labor, the pain sometimes got intense. But something about it felt...off.

"Is that the first one today?" Victoria asked her. "You winced a few times this morning."

Colette thought back to this morning, recalling how she had woken up with a stabbing pain in her lower back. She hadn’t thought much of it then, since her muscles hadn’t been happy with her in a long time at this point - and it had passed pretty quickly after a few minutes.

"I'm not sure, I-" she started, her breath catching.

There was pain again, another stabbing contraction.

"Are they getting stronger?" Victoria asked, her voice sharpening.

The pain receded after a few seconds, and Colette had to force down the urge to curl up on the couch with her hands on her stomach as she tried to take deep breaths."It's nothing. I still have 4 weeks," Colette said with a shake of her head.

The words sounded like a prayer. Because she wasn’t due for at least another month, after all. This was just the Braxton Hicks contractions that her doctor had warned her about. The practice contractions that were supposed to help get her body ready for labor, nothing to worry about.

It was just her body preparing for the birth, that was all.

But the pain came back again, and this time, Colette couldn't quite suppress the gasp as she closed her eyes and tried to breathe through it.

"Colette," Victoria said, her voice sharp. "I don’t think they’re just practice contractions. The way you’re tensing and wincing...this is the real deal. I think you’re going into actual labor."

“No,” Colette said, her heart lurching in her chest. “No, no, I’m not…I’m not supposed to go into labor until January, this is- this is not supposed to happen.”

She had just hit her 36th week, and she was due at the start of January. It was far too early for the labor to start.

"I don't think the baby cares about that," Victoria said with a laugh. "Come on, we'll need to get you to the hospital."

"No, I can't be in labour. Max isn't here," she disagreed.

Colette felt a fresh wave of panic wash over her. The very last thing she wanted to do was start labor without Max there, and Max was currently in the middle of a race on the opposite end of the world.

“Where’s your hospital bag?“ Victoria asked her, all business. “Where’s are the car keys? Arthur is driving.“

“What, no!“ Arthur squeaked. Arthur clearly looked terrified, his eyes growing like saucers as he stared at them. "No - no, I don’t think I can-"

But Victoria was already rounding on him. "Oh yes,  you can. Just get the keys and get the damn car ready. I‘ll help Colette get her things, and you'll drive us."

The authority in her voice was intimidating enough that Arthur didn’t dare to disagree with her, and he nodded mutely and hurried away to look for the car keys.

Colette was torn between laughing at her brother’s expression and panicking over the fact that her labor was actually starting.

Just like that, she felt frozen in place a few moments longer, before Victoria snapped her fingers in front of her face. "Hey, no freezing up. We need to get moving. We need to get to the hospital, and your kid doesn’t care that it still needs 4 more weeks. So come on, come on, get your things."

It snapped her out of her temporary daze, and she managed to focus back to the present again. "Right, yeah," Colette mumbled, and she quickly went to get her hospital bag.

She had already packed it, just in case - but she had definitely not expected to actually use it.

Her hands were shaking as she picked it up, the whole situation still not entirely sinking in yet. Max was not here. She was going to have her baby without him here - that wasn’t how it was supposed to be!

But the pain came back again, and her body seemed to agree that there was no time left to waste.

She winced through the contraction, and Vic’s face tensed as she saw it.

"How are you doing?" she asked, watching her worriedly. Colette had to take a deep breath, trying to keep breathing as the pain faded out again. "I’m-” she started, but that was the same second that Arthur appeared again with the keys.

"The car is ready," he said, sounding very much like he’d rather bolt.

"Right," Victoria said, and she looked at Colette. "We gotta go. You good to go?"

Colette felt a surge of panic as the truth of leaving to go to the hospital finally sank in - she felt very much like her entire body had seized up. But Arthur was already waiting at the door with an expectant look on his face that did not look at all reassuring, and Victoria had picked up her hospital bag and was ushering Colette’s towards the hallway.

The contractions didn’t seem to care about any of her feelings, anyway.

"Come on," Victoria told her quietly. "We're gonna go and have a beautiful birth, and when you're done, there’ll be a healthy baby in your arms, okay?"

Colette was sure that her face had gone pale, and her hands were shaking as she slowly made her way through the hallway. Victoria led her the entire time, supporting her as they moved.

She was more than grateful to slip into the backseat of the Audi and her hands could claw themselves into the buttery soft leather interior.

“Are you sure we can’t wait for an adult?“ Arthur asked weakly.

“You are an adult. You literally drive race cars for a living,“ Victoria snapped.

Colette would have laughed at Arthur’s terrified expression in any other situation, but at the moment, she really wasn’t up to find anything funny.

“Just drive the damn car, Arthur!“ Victoria snapped, and Arthur flinched, his eyes wide as saucers.

A whimper escaped Colette as another contraction gripped her, and she curled up in the back seat, both hands clawed in the seat as the wave of pain ebbed away again. Her breathing was ragged, and she felt like she was slowly coming apart at the seams.

"Keep breathing," Victoria’s sharp voice came from her left side, and she felt a cool, smooth hand on her forehead. "Just keep breathing. You're doing great."

The words managed to cut through the panic, and Colette managed to gasp out a shuddering breath. “I-” she choked out, “I can’t…I can’t do this without Max, I-”

"You are doing it," Victoria cut in, her voice steady and sharp like a blade. "You are doing it, and you are going to be fine. Max will be by your side the moment he can, but you will make it until then. Just keep breathing and keep talking, you’re doing great."

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 7.4k (shorter chap woop) tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter

Year: Early 2018

He hasn’t been answering your phone calls. Or your texts. A growing sense of anxiety and worry forms in your gut. You've trained yourself to push down the more insidious thoughts that threaten your already deteriorating relationship. It’s been a long day for you. From work, to your annoying mother, and now to your M.I.A boyfriend. You wanted to relax at home with a movie and soothing music, maybe even food. However, it’s been hard to eat for the past few weeks. 

The last place you wanted to be was at some house party with snobby people who probably never have realized the true meaning of a dollar. The music is loud and the blue lights do nothing but further annoy you, reminding you of just how much you hate parties. Pushing through the throngs of people, either too drunk to high to give your rudeness a huff. 

It’s not hard to spot him, but the sight makes you dig your nails into your palms. Feeling bile rise in your throat when a girl—one you’ve never seen before—is getting too close and personal with your man. And worst of all? He’s not even pushing her away. He’s obviously drunk. Still, you assumed he would have that much decency to push back flirting advances from random girls. He always did.  

But things have been changing recently, slowly but surely. Ever since that happened. 

Your feet work quickly, forcing yourself to stay determined and not break down and cry right now. You’ve been doing too much of that. “Satoru.” You call out, voice loud and firm enough that he swivels his head to meet your eyes on just the first try. The girl does so also, head tilting in a scrutinizing way that you hate. “Are you drunk?”

The tint on his cheeks is proof enough. But so is his lazy grin. “What do you think?”

The girl giggles, leaning into your boyfriend’s arm. Watching her do so sends a wave of fury down your spine. You would have stepped in if it weren’t for Satoru finally being a decent man and pulling away from her. “Sorry, you gotta go.”

“Excuse me?” The girl huffs, scowling in disgust. “For what? I thought we were having a good time.”

So, they were together the whole night, huh? They probably would have stayed together if you didn’t make an appearance. What if they would have taken things further? What if Satoru imitated something? You can already feel the familiar tingle at the back of your throat, turning around and heading back for the door. He follows, grabbing your arm in an attempt to stop you. “Y/N—“

“Don’t.” You grit, yanking your arm away and pushing your way back out to the front of the large house, ignoring some of a drunken couple’s protests as you ruin their make-out session. When you make your way onto the sidewalk, you feel a more insistent tug at your wrist that causes you to face him fully. Meeting his glazed-over eyes with your own teary pair, biting down on your quivering lip. “Why didn’t you answer your phone? Why are you ignoring me?”

He sighs, running a hand down his face when he lets go of you. “I’m not ignoring you, Y/N. I’m sorry, I should have told you I’d be out. But it was last minute.”

A scoff falls from your lips. “Last minute, huh? Is that what you call it? Hanging around some random girl and acting like you don’t have a worried girlfriend waiting for you?”

“Y/N—“

“Did you cheat on me?” You ask, voice cracking. Your tears now flow freely down your face, eyes red. The expression you adorn does nothing but break his heart. He hates seeing you cry, he always has. And the small, sober part of him is cursing at himself for being such a jackass tonight. But the dominant, drunk side wants no part of an argument tonight. 

“No, I didn’t. I’d never.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N.”

“I want you to be a good boyfriend for once!” You croak out, pushing him back by his shoulders. “Y-you know what I’m going through, you know how hard it’s been. And what do you do? You go out and party, you don’t tell me, and I find some random girl all up on you. And then you smiled like it was funny. D-do you know how much you’re hurting me even more, Satoru?” The trembling of your voice pokes at his heartstrings. 

Satoru stares at you, his expression faltering. For a moment, you think you see guilt flicker across his face, but it’s quickly replaced by something colder—defensiveness. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, alright? I was just...blowing off steam.”

“Blowing off steam?” you repeat, your voice rising as fresh anger bubbles in your chest. “You call this blowing off steam? Ignoring me? Letting some girl throw herself all over you? You’re unbelievable.”

He rakes a hand through his hair, frustration clear in his movements. “What do you want me to do, Y/N? Stay at home and sulk all the time? I can’t—” He stops himself, biting his lip, but you know what he was going to say. 

“You can’t what, Satoru?” Your voice cracks again, but this time it’s laced with more rage than sorrow. “You can’t deal with me? With everything I’m going through? You promised you’d be there for me. You said we’d get through this together.”

“I am here for you!” he snaps, but the slight slur in his voice takes the edge off his words. “But you’re acting like I can’t breathe without you questioning every little thing I do. I’ve been going through shit too, Y/N.”

You suck in a shaky breath. “That’s not fair,” you whisper, your fists clenching at your sides. “You know it’s not. If I didn’t care—if I didn’t love you—I wouldn’t be here, trying to fix this.”

He exhales heavily, his shoulders slumping. “I didn’t cheat on you, Y/N. I swear I didn’t. But I—” He hesitates, his gaze dropping to the ground. “I don’t know how to handle all of this, okay? It’s a lot.”

Your breath hitches, his words cut deeper than he probably intended. “You think this isn’t a lot for me too?” you ask, your voice trembling. “I’ve been trying so hard, Satoru. To hold on. To be strong. For both of us. But you’re slipping away, and I don’t know how to bring you back. I know how to handle things just as much as you do.”

He looks up then, his blue eyes clearer now, filled with something that looks almost like regret. For a brief second, you think he might apologize—might say the words you so desperately need to hear. But instead, he shakes his head and says, “Maybe we just need some space.”

The world tilts beneath you. His words echo in your mind, louder than the music still blaring from the house behind you. “Space?” you repeat, barely able to say the word. “You want to take a break?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, his voice quiet, almost defeated. “I just...I think we’re both hurting each other more than we’re helping.”

You laugh bitterly, wiping at the tears streaming down your face. “No, Satoru. You’re hurting me. You’re the one who stopped trying. You’re the one who’s giving up.” He flinches at your words, but he doesn’t argue. And somehow, that hurts even more. You shake your head, stepping back from him. “If space is what you want, then fine. But don’t expect me to be here waiting when you figure yourself out.”

You turn and walk away, your heart shattering with every step. This isn’t how you imagined the night would go. It isn’t how you imagined your relationship would go. But as you leave him standing there on the sidewalk, you can’t help but wonder if this was inevitable all along.

The same song begins to play. Because soon,  his arms are wrapping around you before you even know it, shoving his face into the side of your neck. “No, no, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m drunk, okay? Please don’t leave, please. L-let’s just go home, my parents aren’t there. Please, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

And like a broken record, you give in. Because the broken part of you still craves him. His touch, his comforting hugs, his words. His everything. You feel like a puzzle with pieces too big or small to fit, some pieces lost. But with Satoru, he makes them fit. He finds those pieces of you; the ones you can’t find yourself. In a way, you know things are failing and falling apart. 

But you’re laying back in his bed, feeling the constant vibration of your phone. Texts from your mother and you have no doubt she’s blowing up your phone about the way you snuck out and demanding to know where you are. It’s interesting, you’re twenty-one but she treats you like a kid. All because you still live with her. 

Your heart feels heavy, your stomach twisting with nausea and you’re not even the drunk one. His hands hold your teary cheeks, meeting your gaze with watery ones of his own. Combined tears wet his pillow until there’s no more to give out. He’s been crying with you, but sometimes it feels fake. 

“Did you cheat on me?” You ask again, whispering in a shaky tone. 

His lips purse and he shakes his head. “…no, I didn’t. I told you, I’d never.”

You search his face, looking for cracks in the foundation of his words. His sorrowful eyes, flushed cheeks, and trembling hands—all of it feels sincere, but it doesn’t feel like enough. Not so much anymore. “You’re sure?” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. 

“I’m sure,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “I swear to you, Y/N. I’d never do that to you. Never.” His thumb brushes away a stray tear on your cheek, and for a moment, the warmth of his touch almost convinces you.

Almost.

You close your eyes, exhaling shakily as his hands cradle your face. You want to believe him. You need to believe him. But the doubt lingers like a shadow, clawing at the edges of your mind. “Then why do I feel like I’m losing you?” you ask, your voice breaking.

Satoru flinches, his hands momentarily faltering before steadying again. “You’re not losing me,” he says quickly, almost desperately. “I know I’ve been...different lately, but it’s not because I don’t care. I just—” He pauses, his gaze dropping as if searching for the right words. “I don’t know how to handle this, Y/N. I don’t know how to be what you need right now. There’s so much and I…” his voice trails off, fearing he’s saying too much and it’ll only make you feel worse. Make himself feel worse. 

Your chest tightens, his confession cutting deeper than you expected. “I don’t need you to have all the answers, Satoru. I just need you to try. To be honest with me. To stop shutting me out. You…you’re the only one—you’re all I have right now.”

“I’m trying,” he insists, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “I swear I’m trying. But it feels like...like no matter what I do, it’s not enough. And I hate it. I hate that I’m hurting you.”

The rawness in his voice pulls at something in you, making it harder to keep the walls around your heart intact. You open your eyes, meeting his gaze. For a moment, the vulnerability in his expression mirrors your own. “I don’t want to lose you, Satoru,” you say softly. “But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep feeling like I’m the only one fighting for us.”

“You’re not,” he whispers, his hands tightening slightly on your face as if afraid you’ll slip away. “You’re not, Y/N. I know I’ve messed up, but I’ll do better. I promise. Just...don’t give up on me. Please.”

The plea in his voice, the tears in his eyes—they’re enough to make the broken pieces of your heart shift, trying to fit back together even if they don’t quite align. Against your better judgment, you nod, letting out a shaky breath. “Okay,” you whisper. “But this is your last chance, Satoru. I mean it.”

“I know,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I won’t mess this up. I promise.” But Satoru isn’t the best at promises. He’s only good at making them for others, not keeping them for himself. 

As he pulls you into his arms, holding you as if you might vanish, you can’t help but wonder how many more promises you’ll let him break before there’s nothing left of you to give. But for now, you let yourself sink into his embrace, hoping—maybe foolishly—that this time will be different. Because he’s all you have. All you know. He knows you inside and out—the way your voice wavers when you’re holding back tears, the way your hands fidget when you’re nervous, the way you laugh like it’s the only thing keeping you from breaking. And you know him just as deeply. Every freckle on his skin, every scar that tells a story, every mole you’ve discovered in moments of intimacy. You’ve memorized him like a favorite book, reading him over and over until the lines blur but still feel familiar.

You two are like each other’s canvases—painted with touches, kisses, and shared memories, even the messy ones. Every fight, every tear-streaked night, every whispered “I’m sorry” adds another layer to the masterpiece that is you and him. But lately, it feels like the colors are running, bleeding into one another until the picture is unrecognizable. And you don’t know if you can fix it, or if you even should. Never did you think that things would change so much, and all because of one failed situation. 

What a weak body you have, what a weak person you are. 

He holds you tighter, his fingers threading through your hair as if grounding himself in your presence. “You’re everything to me, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice so quiet you almost don’t catch it. “I know I’ve been a mess, but I swear I’ll fix this. I’ll fix us.”

But his promises feel like paint on a waterlogged canvas—fading, smudged, and far too fragile. Still, you nod, letting the comfort of his warmth lull you into silence. Because no matter how fractured you feel, no matter how much the doubt weighs on your chest, he’s all you have. You can’t handle the thought of facing everything alone now, can’t handle the thought of not having someone to hug you when you burst down in tears. 

You hate the way things are now, but you’ve sunk too deep into him. And him the same. Over time, you feel like he will retract his hold from you before you do so yourself. You can almost feel it coming, one way or another. It’s why you’re holding him tighter, pressing your body deeper into his. Because you know you wouldn’t be able to do it yourself. Awaiting the inevitable hurts so bad. Knowing that no matter what, your end is visible. You can see the finish line just a few yards away. It’s like a race, and you’re letting Satoru win. Envisioning him running his long legs to the checkered line with a smile on his face like he’s happy—relieved. You don’t want to hold him, that’s the last thing you want to do. However, you’re being as selfish as you can be right now. Before every privilege is stripped from you in a cold manner that will leave you shivering for warmth. But his presence is something. And for now, that’s enough to keep you here and sane. 

Little did you know, you'd win that race before he did. You just needed that little push. He's the hare, and you're the tortoise.

You stay in his arms, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek a constant reminder of the closeness you’ve always shared. It feels almost like an illusion, the peace between you both. But underneath, there’s a tension that hasn’t quite loosened, a thread pulled tight between the two of you, holding you close but threatening to snap at the slightest tug. His grip tightens, his fingers threading into your hair, pulling you closer as if trying to fuse your two worlds together. The quiet hum of the room feels almost suffocating now. Your phone continues to buzz with your mother’s increasingly frantic texts, but you can’t bring yourself to care about that right now. Not with Satoru’s breath warm on your neck and his hands gently caressing your skin. Not when it’s easier to let him hold you in this fragile moment of peace. 

You close your eyes, your fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt. The quietness stays for a long moment, But when he speaks, it’s almost a whisper, like he’s afraid of the truth that might spill out.

“I’ll try. I’ll be here for you, Y/N. I swear it.”

You wonder if you can truly believe him this time. If you can let yourself hope that things might really change. But the doubt is a familiar companion, lingering in the shadows, waiting to remind you of the cracks in his promises. Still, for tonight, you let it go. You let yourself sink into him, giving into the small piece of comfort he offers, hoping that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

You wake up in a cold sweat, dried tears staining your cheeks. Your stomach feels sensitive, nails already digging into your palms so hard that the skin is growing red and prickly. Every emotion you felt from that dream—nightmare—whatever it was feels ten times more real. You don’t know why you’re having these weird dreams about something from years ago. 

But it still hurts all the same, nonetheless. 

You still feel hollow, drowned, and ready to pour your heart out into your pillow. But it’s morning and time to get up for bed. Christmas Eve is in three days and you’re just counting down until when you won’t have to go into work.  Going through your routine, getting Koji ready for the day, opening the door for Sana. Leaving your place of solitude, it feels like you barely even lived through this morning. 

The chill of the morning air hits your skin as you step outside, tugging your coat tighter around you. The weight of your dream lingers, like a fog that refuses to lift. You keep telling yourself it was just a dream, just a memory from a time you’ve tried so hard to bury. But it clings to you like a ghost, whispering doubts into your ear, even as you force yourself to move through the motions. you can’t help but glance up at the sky, the gray clouds reflecting the heaviness in your chest. Christmas Eve is in three days, and you can’t wait to take a break from not just work—from everything.

If only escaping your past was as easy as flipping the calendar to a new year.

Satoru texts you around the 2-hour mark that he’ll be going over to your place soon to see Koji and bring the gifts he got. You let Sana know of the change, she replies back with a simple ‘okay!’

You sigh, willing yourself to forget about the drama your life entails, and focus on your work. 

However, another thought is creeping in through the door, and this time—it’s not such a bad one. You feel a fluttering sensation in your gut, holding back a peal of stifled laughter as the memory of last night makes its presence known. After the whole shirt incident, Suguru stayed. He kept his word about not making anything weird, and you two ended with a simple chat and a movie. It felt nice.

Of course, there were hints of lingering peeks, that strange tension tossed up in the air that neither of you fully addressed. But it’s fine, it didn’t mean anything at the end of the day. Although, when it was time for him to leave, you did have a second of hesitation about whether you should hug him or simply say goodbye. He decided for you when he carefully opened his arms up, you followed suit. 

Inhaling his scent felt heavenly. Manly, but also feminine at the same time. An earthly scent that felt like hints of incense. The memory of his embrace lingers like the faintest trace of his cologne, warm and comforting. It wasn’t just the way he held you—it was the way he made you feel. Secure. Understood. Like you weren’t just surviving, but living, even if just for that moment.  

You haven't hugged a man in so long. You forgot how good they hug. 

You shake your head, a small smile pulling at your lips despite yourself. It wasn’t anything. It shouldn’t be anything. Suguru’s always been like that—gentle, kind, and just a little too perceptive for his own good. He knew exactly when to stay and exactly what you needed without you even having to say it. Still, you can’t ignore the way your heartbeat picked up when his arms wrapped around you, the way your cheek brushed against his shoulder, and how your fingers had almost lingered a little too long against his back. It felt natural, but also entirely new. 

Suguru’s presence was so easy, so effortless. It felt like slipping into an old favorite sweater, soft and familiar but with a spark of something you couldn’t quite place. You’d been so wrapped up in keeping everything together, in pushing through every day for Koji’s sake, that you’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be seen.  

You wonder if Satoru holds the same longing you do. 

You shake the thought away as quickly as it comes. Don’t think about him. There’s no point in overthinking any of this.  

“Hello, you must be Koji’s father.” Sana greets Satoru who stands in the doorway. With him, two armfuls of gifts. Even more on the floor next to his feet. 

Simply nodding and looking over her shoulder to see Koji eating his lunch. “And you’re the babysitter.” Without much else, he carefully pushes past her, bringing in the gifts. “Mind getting the rest? Thanks.”

She nods, grabbing what was left on the floor before bringing it in, closing and locking the door. When she turns back around, Koji is in his father’s embrace. She smiles at the scene. “Ms. Y/N told me you’d be coming. He’s been good so far, he’s just eating his lunch now.”

“That’s good to hear,” Satoru replies, pulling away from his son. Doing a quick scan of the place before his eyes land back on the young woman. “How long have you been watching my son again?”

“A couple of years.”

He hums, walking closer to her. “And you’re how old?”

Sana blinks, surprised by the question. "I'm twenty," she says cautiously, her polite smile wavering slightly under his scrutiny.  

Satoru raises an eyebrow, his gaze sharp but unreadable. "Twenty, huh? Pretty young to be taking care of kids."  

“I’ve been babysitting since I was sixteen,” she replies, straightening her posture. “I’m studying early childhood education, so it’s not just a job to me. I care about Koji.”  

His expression softens a fraction, and he glances back at his son, who’s happily munching away at his sandwich. “He does seem to like you,” Satoru admits, his tone less probing now.  

“He’s a great kid,” Sana says warmly. “Very smart, just like his mother.”  

That earns her a faint smile. “Yeah, just like his mother.” He crosses his arms, leaning casually against the counter. “So, Y/N told you I’d be stopping by today?”  

“Yes, she mentioned it when I got here this morning.” 

Satoru nods, tapping his fingers against his forearm thoughtfully. “Good. Thanks for helping out today. I know it’s probably not easy juggling school and babysitting.”  

“It’s manageable,” Sana replies, sensing a subtle change in his demeanor. “Koji makes it worth it.”  

Satoru’s gaze lingers on her for a moment longer before he straightens up. “I’ll take over from here. You can go ahead and clock out early if you want.”  

“Oh, are you sure?”  

“Yeah,” he says, waving her off. “Enjoy the rest of your day. I’ve got this.”  

Sana hesitates briefly, glancing at Koji, who’s still blissfully unaware of the conversation. “Alright then. Have a good evening, Mr. Gojo.”  

As she gathers her things and heads for the door, she feels his eyes on her. It’s not hostile, but it’s assessing. Like he’s trying to gauge something about her. She doesn’t dwell on it, though—whatever it is, it’s not her place to question. “Oh!” She turns around as if she just remembered something. “Ms. Y/N leaves a list. It’s taped to the—”

“I don’t need a list to take care of my son.” He cuts her off smoothly, his one eyebrow raising. “Thanks again, have a good day.”

She falters, once again caught a little off guard. This is her first time meeting him, and while she’s of course seen the articles and comments about the drama surrounding the small family, she has no bias. In fact, she sympathizes greatly with you for going through all this alone. As she’s leaving the apartment, she can’t help the small opinion of Satoru that he’s already given her. 

He’s so intimidating!

After she leaves, Satoru focuses back on his son—this shitty apartment. He hasn’t explicitly voiced his opinions out to you—of course you already know what they are. And as you said before, it’s all you could afford, and Koji’s happy. However, he can’t stop himself from grimacing at the so-called ‘decorations’. This place needs some serious revamping. 

“Hey, buddy?”

Koji looks over, wiping his mouth. “Yes, Papa?”

“When you’re done eating, want to help me with something?” And Koji doesn’t need to be told anymore. He loves helping—especially his mother and father. So he nods excitedly, practically scarfing down the rest of his sandwich. Bubbling with giddiness only a child could have. 

Satoru chuckles at his son’s behavior, heart warming. This is the first time he’s doing something festive with Koji. The bitter part of him tells him that he could’ve had more chances to do so if it weren’t for your cowardness. But he shoves that away, focusing on the jolly joy the holidays can bring. 

Today was more tiring than usual, with the cafe gaining more attention, there’s been rush after rush after rush. You can handle it, but that doesn’t mean it won’t wear you down by the time you clock out. And your day isn’t even done yet. Slugging your way to your front door, lazily opening it with your key. Tossing your coat on the nearby rack, your bag with it. 

“I’m ba—”

You sniffle. One. Twice. 

A pinecone-y scent fills your nostrils. Which is strange because you know you have no candles that house that aroma. Confusion, but wariness takes over your senses. Following the sound of laughter down the hall until you’re standing in the living room. 

The sight you see is more than startling. 

Your eyes dart around in a frenzy, landing on one new thing after the next. The small, simple Christmas tree you’d put up last week? Replaced by a towering, impeccably decorated monstrosity with shimmering lights and a star that looks like it came straight out of a luxury catalog. It barely even fits in the room. Luckily, the small picture ornament of you and Koji is still there. But it looks so out of place.

The garlands you’d strung across the walls? Gone, swapped for lush, sparkling ones adorned with oversized ornaments. Even your modest stockings have been replaced with personalized velvet ones embroidered with gold thread, hanging perfectly above a faux fireplace setup that definitely wasn’t there this morning.

It’s like a winter wonderland exploded in your living room, and you’re not sure whether to laugh or scream.

Koji is sitting on the couch, giggling as Satoru playfully pretends to tangle himself in a string of fairy lights. Your son’s laughter is contagious, but you can’t shake the growing irritation bubbling inside you. When Koji notices you, his eyes brighten even more. Gaping and rushing over to your leg, hugging it. “Mama! Mama! Look what Papa and I did! It’s so pretty and there are so many presents!”

There is. There’s a lot of presents. Practically stacking on top of one another under your refurbished tree. Hidden somewhere in the splurge are the gifts Suguru got for you and Koji. 

Gulping, you feel your throat tighten. You feel nothing but overwhelmed. But in the face of your son, you can’t exactly show that. You force a smile as you ruffle Koji’s hair, trying to push down the irritation clawing its way to the surface. “Wow, it’s… definitely something,” you say, your voice strained but managing to sound somewhat amused for Koji’s sake.

Satoru, now untangled from the lights, looks up from the couch with that boyish grin of his. “Do you love it or do you love it?” he asks, gesturing to the extravagant decor like he’s unveiling a masterpiece. 

You blink at him, incredulous—but still attempting to keep yourself calm.  “What… what happened to the decorations we already had?”

“Oh, those?” He waves a dismissive hand. “Let’s just say they weren’t really up to par. I mean, come on, Y/N. That tree you had? It was like something out of a Charlie Brown Christmas special. I couldn’t let Koji’s holiday spirit suffer like that.”

Your jaw tightens, the forced smile threatening to slip. “So, you just… decided to replace everything? Without asking me?”

He stands, brushing off invisible dust from his jeans as if the weight of his decision is nothing. “You were busy, and I figured you’d appreciate coming home to something nice for once. Besides, look at Koji—he’s thrilled!”

Koji tugs at your sleeve, his wide-eyed excitement piercing through your annoyance. “It’s so cool, Mama! Look at all the shiny ornaments! And Papa let me pick out the star!” Your son runs over to show off a few of the many, many presents he has. Showing extra excitement for the heavier and larger ones. “Papa says it’s magical. I want to have a magical Christmas every time, Mama.”

The words, innocent but heavy, almost make you physically kneel down. You feel your chest tighten, your throat closing up even more. The lump that forms is difficult to swallow down. The implication of Satoru’s and your son's words feels a bit degrading. And you don’t blame it on Koji, he means nothing malicious. But for some reason, being faced with the physical line of difference between you and Satoru, watching your son’s face light up in a way that you’ve never seen before…

It reminds you that your enough has never been enough. Each Christmas, it’s dull. Your Christmases aren’t magical.  Your life isn’t. 

You feel the weight of it all crashing down like the oversized star on the new tree is pressing on your chest. Satoru's extravagance, Koji's innocent excitement, and your own feelings of inadequacy swirl together into a storm you’re barely holding back.  

Your forced smile falters, but you quickly kneel to Koji's level, brushing his hair away from his glowing face. “It’s beautiful, sweetheart,” you say softly, voice trembling but steady enough to reassure him. “I’m glad you had fun with Papa.”  

Koji beams, and for a moment, his joy is a balm to your frayed nerves. “It’s pretty, isn’t it, Mama?”  

You bite the inside of your cheek. “So pretty.” Standing slowly, your hand lingers on Koji’s shoulder. “Really pretty,” you repeat quietly, not committing to anything. You can feel Satoru watching you, his casual demeanor only adding to your irritation. The worst part of it all is that it seems like he genuinely has no idea what he did wrong. 

In hindsight, maybe he didn’t. It wasn’t his intention to make you feel like a shitty mother, but Satoru is good at pointing out the differences in his own ways. 

When Koji bounds back to the pile of gifts, you finally let yourself meet Satoru’s gaze. “You really didn’t think to talk to me about this?”  

His grin fades just a fraction, replaced by a look of confusion. “What’s there to talk about? I wanted to do something special for Koji. And let’s be honest, Y/N—this is special.”  

“It’s not about the decorations, Satoru,” you snap, your voice low but sharp. “It’s about you making decisions without considering how I might feel about it. Again.”  

He tilts his head, the glower returning, though it feels sharper now. “You’re overthinking this. It’s just Christmas decorations, Y/N. Look at Koji—he’s happy. Isn’t that what matters?”  

You clench your fists, the tightness in your chest threatening to spill over into something you can’t control. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t just about the decorations. It’s about you coming in here and acting like everything I do is subpar. Like I’m not enough.”  

The words hang heavy in the air, and for a moment, Satoru’s expression falters. But he recovers quickly, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the arm of the couch. “Y/N, no one’s saying that. You’re reading too much into this. I just wanted to make things nice for Koji, that’s all.”  

Your laugh is bitter, and it catches even you off guard. “Right. Because your version of nice is always the right one. I’m just the placeholder until you decide to step in and fix everything, aren’t I?”  

Satoru’s eyes narrow slightly, the playful spark he had with Kojidimming. “That’s not fair.”  

“Isn’t it?” you counter, your voice breaking despite your effort to stay calm. “You swoop in with all your money and your grand gestures, and I’m supposed to just smile and be grateful. But do you even realize how hard I’ve worked to give Koji a Christmas he’ll enjoy? How much I’ve sacrificed just to keep things normal?”  

His silence stings more than any retort could.  

Koji’s laughter in the background feels distant now, muffled by the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. He’s too distracted with the tree, his presents, everything. You inhale deeply, trying to steady yourself, before forcing a calmness you don’t feel.  You won’t fight in front of him. 

“I’m going to get changed,” you mutter, not waiting for a response.  

As you leave the room, Satoru calls after you, his voice softer but no less exasperated. “Y/N, come on. Don’t make this into a bigger deal than it is.”  

But to you, it already feels like a chasm. One that grows wider with every passing second.

You shut your door, leaning against it with your forehead. Breaths coming in short, hands trembling slightly. Biting your quivering lip, you maneuver your body to change into your uniform. All the while, tears are getting on your hands and clothes. Accidentally, you let out a small, broken whimper. 

 Quickly, you place a palm to your mouth, stifling and quieting your soft cries. Once you’re done changing, you fall back onto the bed. Curled up with knees drawn to your chest, as the burden of your own self-consciousness rains down on you. The room feels suffocatingly small, your emotions clawing at your throat, demanding to be let out.

The tears come harder now, soaking into the fabric of your uniform as you press your hands to your face, muffling the quiet sobs. You hate this—how easily Satoru gets under your skin, how he makes you feel insignificant without even trying. You thought you were past this. Past him. But somehow, he always finds a way to remind you of all the ways you’ve fallen short. Or at least, all the ways he makes you feel like you have.

There’s a soft knock on the door.

“Y/N?” His voice is muffled through the wood, quieter than usual as if he’s trying not to disturb you. “Are you okay?”

You don’t answer, biting down on your lip to keep from making another sound.

“Look,” he continues, his tone hesitant. “I know I upset you. I didn’t mean to. Can we just… talk?”

For a moment, you consider staying silent, letting him stew in his own discomfort. But the tension is too thick, and you know Koji is just down the hall. With a shaky breath, you push yourself to your feet, wiping at your face in a futile attempt to erase the evidence of your tears. Wiping your face and straightening your clothes, you open the door. “I have work.” You mutter, expertly enforcing a placid emotion. “Will you watch him?”

Without waiting for a response, you walk past him. But he grabs at your wrist, instinctively you pull away. “Stop, just stop, okay? Let’s not fight. We’re adults, we can talk this out. I don’t mean to make you feel less than, I just wanted to make Koji happy.”

“And do you think he’s not happy with me?” You snap back, looking up at him. Feeling your vision already beginning to blur. “Do you? Do you think he’ll be happy with you? I-Is that it?”

Satoru’s eyes widen slightly at your outburst, and for a moment, he doesn’t respond. The air between you feels like it could snap under the weight of everything left unsaid. His hand hovers near his side, as if he wants to reach out again but knows better now. “No,” he says softly, his voice steady but lined with regret. “That’s not what I meant. Koji is happy with you. He loves you more than anything.”

“Then why do you keep acting like what I do isn’t enough?” you whisper, your voice trembling as you maintain eye contact with him. “I’ve been doing this alone, Satoru. Every scraped knee, every fever, every night when he cries because he’s scared of the dark—I’m there. Not you. Me. So don’t you dare come in here, throw your money around, and act like you can just fix everything with some… Christmas wonderland.”

“But you didn’t let me come in sooner, Y/N.” He replies, exasperation in his voice. 

“I know that, and I’m sorry. I know I fucked up…”

“Then stop getting mad at little things.”

Your fists ball up, your expression growing firmer by the second. But so is the need to cry again. He’s right, everything he says is right. It’s your own fault that you’ve been forced to handle everything alone. But, don’t your feelings matter just a little bit in this situation? Is he allowed to just come in and fix up everything you have? What he thinks is a mess, it’s something that holds significance to you. What he thinks is a little thing, it’s a big one in your eyes. 

So while this scenario is blowing up into something bigger, your decorations are something you have control of. You only have control over so many things in your life. 

He exhales slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not trying to take anything away from you, Y/N. I swear. I just… I wanted to give him something special. Something I never had growing up.”

It makes you feel even more guilty. You can’t find it in you to say anything else, turning back around and walking to the living room. “Goodbye, Koji. Mama will see you later.” Giving him a brief hug and kiss, you hurriedly grab your coat and purse, exiting your apartment just as fast as you came. 

Unbeknownst to you, Koji is left staring at the closed door. His head tilting in curiosity, while a frown pulling at the corner of his lips. He looks up at his father when he enters the living room again, the two owning matching guises. “Why’d Mama leave so fast? I wanted to show her the drawing we did.” The white paper in his hands pictures three figures. Each one smiling, the smaller boy in the middle holding hands with his two parents on either side of him. He even drew blue snowflakes. 

There’s a red heart around them with the words My family! at the top. 

Satoru stands there, staring at the door you just closed, feeling the weight of Koji’s innocent question settle on his shoulders. He sighs, running a hand through his hair as he glances down at his son, whose big, curious eyes are filled with disappointment.

“She’s just tired, buddy,” Satoru replies, crouching down to Koji’s level. His tone is softer now, more measured, as he tries to mask the turmoil bubbling under his calm façade. “She’s been working really hard, you know? Grown-up stuff.”

Koji’s frown deepens, his little brows furrowing. “But we worked hard too! We did the tree and the presents and everything!” His tiny hands gesture to the decorated room, his frustration clear. “Mama’s s’posed to be happy.”

Satoru feels his chest tighten at the words. He places a hand on Koji’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “She is happy, Koji. She just… needs some time, that’s all. Grown-ups can be funny like that.”

Koji looks down, fiddling with his fingers before glancing back up. “Is it my fault?”

Satoru’s heart aches at the question, and he immediately shakes his head, pulling Koji into a firm hug. “No, not even a little bit. You didn’t do anything wrong, Koji. Don’t ever think that, okay?”

Koji nods slowly against his father’s shoulder but remains quiet. Satoru pulls back, cupping his son’s face in his hands. “Mama loves you so much, Koji. More than anything in the world. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Okay…” Koji mumbles, still not entirely convinced. He inhaled deeply, then spoke again. “Do…does Mama love you too?”

The question catches him off guard, putting an even bigger weight on Satoru’s shoulders. He should’ve expected it, Koji is a curious kid who still doesn’t completely grasp the complexities of his parents’ relationship. Satoru smiles faintly, kissing Koji’s cheek. “Mama has a lot of love.”

The answer satisfies Koji. For now. 

Satoru ruffles his son’s hair. “How about we finish that drawing? We’ll save it for her when she gets back.”

Koji perks up slightly, nodding. “Okay! But you gotta color inside the lines this time, Papa.”

Satoru chuckles, relieved to see even a small smile return to Koji’s face. “Deal. But only if you promise not to make fun of me if I mess up. I’m sensitive.”

Koji giggles, taking his father’s hand to lead him back to the small table. As they sit down to continue their drawing, Satoru steals a glance at the door again, his smile faltering for just a second.

He’s trying—he really is. But he wonders if it’ll ever be enough. It’s like no matter what he does, you don’t like it; and vice versa. He’s being as understanding and nice as someone in his situation can be. At times, he feels he’s being even too nice to you. He knew things wouldn’t be easy, but he wants to spend time with his son. Make up for all the lost time, and even the littlest moments. It’s almost a little bit unfair of you to throw the fact that he has money and you don’t in his face like that. He didn’t ask to be born rich. Just like you didn’t ask to be born…like that. You’re the adults in this situation, there’s a kid involved. So truly, he wishes he could just have a single conversation with you that doesn’t feel anger-surged or bitter. Of course, it’s hard because of what has happened before, but there’s a time and a place, is there not? 

Whatever. He’s more than happy to color with Koji and do whatever the little boy asks while you have your own moment. Satoru knows best of everyone else you like having space. And while many years have passed and his feelings for you have grown less than savory, he stills wants to respect your wishes after an argument with him.

He can’t help but think the obvious, though. Is it even worth attempting to mend whatever little shards of semblance there is left with you?

Probably not. Because after all, he’s here only for Koji. 

Right?

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[qoldenskies]

It feels like Donnie always has a bundle of nerves. While Leo seems to have a more chill attitude. At least on the outside.

So I kind of write them like that.

One example I can think of on top of my head is Mant Unhappy Reminders.

Where Leo says to everyone to trust him, but it seems to the others that he is not taking it seriously. But had a plan, but does not communicate it.

Comparatively, when Donnie faced the Shredder, at least in the stadium. He was the only one who was shaking like a leaf. And teeth chattering.

He had a moment when he said “Eat science,” scene. But when that didn't work, he kind of just started having a breakdown and crying. And such.

Also, when the Shredder returns, I think Donnie might have froze.

when shredder broke his tech his first instinct was to scream and flee!! honestly i cant tell if his tech-bo activated on its own or not but regardless that was what saved his life and he didn't expect it to, and pretty much the SECOND shredder gets knocked away from him he collapses. im also thinking about minotaur maze when his first instinct is to scream for help repeatedly when he's in a life-or-death situation, its very telling

(also actually when people do post many unhappy returns fics nobody ever acknowledges that donnie also got the SHIT beaten out of him in end game when the others didnt because he was holding off draxum from the front??? like he's visibly super fucked up afterwards??? guys you could use this if youre treating their injuries realistically anyway, especially with the added angst of him having to fight all day after even though he was already pretty banged up)

(donnie being in the front lines in end game to distract draxum.... ok canary)

donnie is VERY vocal when he's afraid and his confidence is very easily shaken when he fails on the field, i think he's shown to have to fall down and just breathe through it after close calls when the others dont. he's very jumpy, unexpected loud noises freak him out, he freezes when he's out of immediate danger etc etc. he's not someone who hides it while leo usually does. leo feels like he has to be strong for his family, while donnie doesnt.

like lol leo locks tf in and focuses on the field when things get life-or-death (also very apparent in the fight with the kraang, where despite being under the threat of death he's focused enough to make split-second decisions, the line about missing on purpose!!) and donnie panic and freaks out LMAO (jumping in front of mikey to take the hit was completely instinctual by contrast! if he had leo's kind of focus he probably would have made something a lot more structured than that split second shield; donnie's ninpo reflects it well, he needs time to prepare before he jumps in while leo can think quickly)

[flaviafulvia]

Every thing here is true, but even more than that Sparta was ~that way~ because they had a large population of conquered people called “helots” (Herodotus says that at one battle there were seven helots to one Spartan) that they had to keep an iron grip over. The date given for the First Messenian War, when Sparta first conquered these people, is mid-8th century, maybe a generation or two before Homer? It was the legendary figure of Lycurgus who was said to have set up the ironic army, said to happen around 885-776. Setting aside that the downstream probably took a few generations to take shape, if Homer sang about these people in any kind of past at all, let alone a Bronze Age one, it’s before Spartan put everything into being warlike and before they got their reputation. That Sparta didn’t exist yet.

(Also too there is a large structural and civilizational fracture between the world of myth and the real one. Patrochilles fics going on about the 7 types of love is cute but those were coined by Plato and really not the kind of thing a society makes unless they are already deep into figurative taxonomy and list making. The illiterates in Homer aren’t doing that.)

Can we get something straight here about Penelope and this whole “Spartan” thing?

Sure, we all know Penelope was from Sparta (well, technically), and we’ve all seen enough 300-inspired pop culture nonsense to think that every Spartan woman must be some spear-wielding, leather-clad, muscle-bound badass. So let’s clear that up once and for all: Penelope was absolutely not that type of Spartan. In fact, that vision of Spartan women is more of a modern fantasy than an actual reflection of Spartan society, and Penelope herself would probably laugh in your face if you tried to pin her down to that archetype.

First off, let’s talk about what it actually meant to be Spartan. Yes, Spartan women had a reputation for being strong, but we need to understand that strength wasn’t defined by throwing a spear or taking down enemies with a shield. Spartan women were celebrated for their physical health and were tasked with producing strong offspring to build the next generation of warriors. They were also responsible for the running of the household when their husbands were off fighting in wars, which meant managing estates, controlling property, and overseeing the everyday operations of Spartan life. So, while Spartan women were not helpless, they weren’t exactly wandering around with weapons, challenging every person who crossed them, either. Penelope’s version of Spartan strength was a little more intellectual, shall we say. For twenty years, while Odysseus was “getting lost” (as one does), Penelope faced down a horde of suitors who were camped out in her house, constantly pressuring her to choose a new husband. Did she pull out a spear and kill them all? No. That’s not what spartan women did. Did she start a war? Absolutely not. Instead, she employed the ultimate weapon: patience. She weaved and un-wove a shroud for years as a stalling tactic, keeping the suitors at bay. Sure, there’s no sword involved, but let’s be real: that takes more cunning than any weapon ever could. Spartan women are not known for fighting, but for surviving.

Penelope’s Spartan roots may have given her the ability to endure, to manage her household, and to outsmart the suitors who had overrun Ithaca, but we’re missing the point if we think that means she was out there battling it out like a heroine from some action flick. Her version of strength was mental, not physical. Instead of wielding a spear, Penelope wielded her intellect, her wit, and her ability to play the long game. If you’re expecting Penelope to start slaying suitors left and right, or charging into battle with a sword in hand, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment.

Pop culture would love to turn Penelope into a spear-wielding warrior queen, but the actual historical context is far more subtle and far more impressive. She was Spartan in the most meaningful sense of the word: resilient, strategic, and damn clever. Penelope did not need muscles at all. She had the power of endurance — something a spear can’t give you.

[tizeline]

So, in canon rise all of the turtles growing up know about how having Donnie's shell unprotected, probably from some childhood incident. And we can see in the show anytime Donnie's shell is bare; they all rush to protect him. How would they react to Donnie getting hurt because of his shell in this AU? What do they think of his battle shell? I assume they don't even really register Donnie as a softshell turtle because of his battle shell. Would this add to Raph's whole overprotective big brother instinct thing he gets because he catastrophizes Donnie's whole situation.

Also during the finale, we see that the lair gets trashed and has a huge cave in. So obviously Splinter, Donnie, and Sheldon would need to find a new place to live. Would the Drax fam help them build a new home? Are we going to see Donnie's reaction later to his home being destroyed, because losing your childhood home and your safe space must be awful. So, to maybe add a cute little twist, would Donnie, Splinter, and Sheldon live with the Drax fam for a little while?

Another thing, since Leo is obsessed with Sonic, Donnie should totally be obsessed with Wicked the musical. Another green person who sings on Broadway with similar themes of being outcasted and caring about how other people perceive them and using that perception to base their own self-worth, and she's also ostracized from society? Elphaba is written for Donnie. Donnie's theatre kid heart is an Elphaba stan and no one can convince me otherwise.

Donnie's brothers are very protective of him in this AU largely because he was separated from them for such a long time and they're afraid of losing him again. That being said, I think him having a soft shell also fuels this overprotectiveness. They do know that he is a spiny softshell before reuniting with him, Draxum told them about it, and that very much reinforced the whole "helpess victim in need of saving" type view they already made up in their imaginations of Donnie. (Not only is he in the clutches of the evil humans, but he's even more vulnerable than his hard shell brothers!) And remember that Donnie's battle shell in the AU isn't really armour the way it is in canon, it's main function is as a jetpack and maybe, like, a backpack (it has storage space). It doesn't cover the lower half of his back, so his soft shell is still visable and as such vulnurable. Donne getting hurt because of his lack of armour (biological or technological) would definitely freak his brothers out even more, but they're already pretty careful with him honestly.

Anyway, you are completely right about Donnie, Splinter and Shelldon moving in with the Draxums when their home in the sewers is destroyed XD It's kinda awkward, but at that point the Draxums and the Hamatos have learned to get along a lot better. But yeah, losing his home is very hard for Donnie, he's definitely the type of person who doesn't deal well with sudden big changes like that. I do wanna depict this part of the story eventually, but it's probably gonna be a while until then.

And god yeah, Donnie is ABSOLUTELY a huge fan of musicals lmaooo! He acts so overdramatic and theatrical all the time and the show makes it clear several times that he loves music so yeah, total theater kid. I haven't actually seen Wicked so I can't really meaningfully comment on the concept of him being a fan of that specific musical, other than omg yes Elpheba being an outcast and also GREEN he totally projects onto her.

[percabethsong]

Ok, I wanted to talk about Annabeth being the reincarnation of Odysseus.

First of all, yes, Annabeth and not Percy. Here's why: they have the same fatal flaw (hubris), fight in similar ways (relying heavily in words and tricks), as well as this comparison being made in the Sea of Monsters itself several times, in which Annabeth (Odysseus) calls herself Nobody (again) to the Cyclops, is the one that wanted to tied herself to listen to the sirens (I know that part was changed in Epic, but let's pretend not for the sake of the intention of the comparison in the book), etcetera. In addition, I know Percy going insane when someone hurts Annabeth is something the whole fandom agrees, which is something he and Odysseus share, but let's be honest, Annabeth does not play about him neither. I would say she went even more nuts about him missing in HOO than he did when she went missing in Titan Curse. Percy could also totally be Penelope, considering their loyalty.

That being said, what I wanted to focus on this post is Athena, and how she made the same mistake again with another version of her protégée, this time her daughter. If we consider that the events of Epic are what happened in PJO, not only Athena (or Minerva, so close enough) abandoned Odysseus again in The Mark of Athena, but she said to Annabeth that she wished Odysseus was there because he would understand the map (that's a line about that in the book). She compared Annabeth to Odysseus, not realising they are the same soul.

Also, if the events of Epic happened in PJO, then it means Athena gave up of creating a world where people held each other with a little more empathy, like she said she wished to do in "I can't help but wonder". She had probably tried for a few centuries, became kinder. I even think that might be why she started to have demigods children: to a child of Athena to be born she needs a real connection with a mortal, which she didn't allow herself before Odysseus. However, with the pass of time (my personal belief is that the Romans treatment towards her would be a main factor in that), she went back to be colder. She has a ruthless father who didn't support her mission to be kinder and told her to be away from her kids, as well as humans who didn't pay her the same respect as they used to.

Then it came Annabeth, this child, her child, who is her favourite, and part of that it's because she reminds her of her favourite champion, her first friend, even if she doesn't acknowledge that. Unaware to her, they are the same person, and this time she's his mother. This version of Odysseus looks up to her so much because her mortal family couldn't understand her and she still carries the admiration Odysseus felt towards her, but without any of the bad memories.

And yet.

Yet Athena breaks her (his) trust again. Yet Athena disapproves Percy (Penelope), who in any life, Odysseus (Annabeth) would do anything for. More than that, Athena is one of the main reasons that Annabeth took so long to accept Percy as the love of her life.

So Annabeth (Odysseus) resents her again, and when Athena realises who her daughter is (because I am sure she would eventually) it's already too late. She made the same mistake, and she can hear a voice in her head calling her "Selfish and prideful and vain", but this time, this voice sounds like Annabeth's.

[g1rld1ary]

new year's day - sirius black x reader

wc: 2608

cw: drinking, smoking, swearing, kissing, r is an anxious overthinker

me: inspired ofc by miss swift. happy happy 2025 lovelies!!!! this was supposed to be out for my new years (it is currently 12am on the 3rd lol) but the words were not wording. hopefully because of time zones it's still only just passed NYD for some of u?? either way wishing u love + light for the yr ahead <33

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

There was glitter on the floor after the party. A wonderful idea at the time, sparkles falling softly as couples kissed and champagne was popped to welcome the new year in, but now it was just something else to clean up.

A couple of people you knew, friends you weren’t that close with, were still making their way out from the night before, heels thrown over shoulders and bare feet braving the winter streets. You waved out a few more guests with a forced smile, trying not to think about how much you would rather be back in a warm bed, preferably cuddled up with someone.

“Happy New Year, darling.” Alice Fortescue kissed your cheek on the way out, pressing a stack of Polaroids in your hands. The top one was you and Sirius, hugging tightly with megawatt grins on display. You flipped it over so fast you might have made an earthquake. You couldn’t think about him.

You shut the door behind the final group of stragglers, wishing them all a happy New Year as they went, and sighed. The party was a success, there was no denying it, but somehow you didn’t feel any satisfaction. Not after making what might be the biggest mistake of your life. Not that it felt like that at the time, but… Not everything that feels good is good.

Tense silence settled over your house and you felt dangerously alone despite knowing that all your best friends were still asleep somewhere upstairs. You allowed yourself a moment, quiet before the inevitable storm of the day, and sat on the couch with your head in your hands.

You felt stupid. You’d probably just fucked up the most important relationship in your life for five minutes of pleasure. And what was worse was that you couldn’t even talk to him about it so you just wallowed in your own self-pity, feeling your best friend slip through your fingers.

Something dumb was pumping through the stereo, accompanying the raucous noise already occupying your house.

“Dance with me,” You whined, grabbing Sirius’ hands to make him move along to the music with you. He laughed at you, shaking his head softly but moving with you all the same. He twirled you around easily, handing his drink to a laughing Remus.

Sirius followed you further into the cleared-out living room, pulling out all his most embarrassing dance moves to make you laugh. You took it as a challenge, moving to the music with the wildest movements you could create, the two of you unintentionally creating a bubble between you and the rest of the party.

You eventually tired out, though, and made Sirius accompany you through the first story of your house, wine-drunk and giggling as you let all your thoughts travel from your brain and out your mouth.

Sirius helped you up until you were sitting on the railing of your back porch and staring at the stars, him standing next to you, your shoulders brushing every so often. You talked about everything and nothing, the things you wanted to leave in this year, what you were excited for in the next.

James, Remus and Peter came tumbling out the back door and into your garden with a small crowd following, setting up in anticipation of the new year and the fireworks they were going to let off.

“Sirius?” You asked, and your tone must have worried him because Sirius was up in an instant, standing in front of you.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me,” You said as your friends began to count down.

“What?” His silver eyes widened, hands finding purchase on your knees.

“Kiss me. Please.”

And as the new year made itself known, you were finally kissing Sirius Black, your best friend in the world and longtime crush. His lips were soft, same as his hair, and all you wanted was for him to be closer, closer, closer until you weren’t even two people anymore. Just one combined being so you’d never have to stop kissing him.

His palm on your cheek was warm, cradling you gently like you’d slip away at any moment. Had he been wanting this as much as you had? You weren’t in any shape to consider it, lost in his smell and his closeness.

Champagne bottles popped behind you, fireworks releasing into the sky and you were kissing Sirius Black. You thought life could not possibly get any better, except for when he pulled away and simply rested his forehead on yours, your two breaths mixing in the winter air.

You didn’t say anything, too afraid to pop the blissful bubble you were in, so the two of you remained in silence, Sirius’ hands still holding you.

“Come on, we’re gonna play a game inside!” Mary called as she swung around the balcony pole. You and Sirius parted, intense eye contact sending chills down your spine. He nudged you gently. indicating for you to come along with him and participate in whatever terrible drinking game your friends had cooked up. Neither of you mentioned the kiss for the rest of the night.

You groaned, wiping your hands down your face to pull you back to earth, slapping your knees and standing up. Back to real life, where your best friend might never talk to you again.

You stepped over the bodies littered across the hallway leading into your bedroom, switching on your stereo as a wake-up call. The gaggle of teens moaned and groaned as you went about your business, clearing up some of the stray litter that had found its way in last night.

“Come on, clean up crew. None of you will be let out the gate until I no longer live in a shithole!” You said with forced cheer, burying your angst deep inside. Your friends whined a cacophony of complaints but roused nonetheless, ready to clean still in their sparkly attire from the party.

“Didn’t your parents know about the party?” Lily asked, rubbing tired eyes.

“Yes, but they still don’t want to come back to filth! So let’s get on it!”

Despite originally being the leader of the cleaning crusade and being the primary inhabitant of the house in which you were all cleaning, you’d somehow been bossed into the one role you’d been praying against: taking on the living room with Sirius.

Tense silence blanketed the room. You had no conversation to provide, and clearly neither did Sirius, so you were both loading empty bottles into garbage bags trying desperately to think of something to say.

You looked up to say something, anything, but divine timing made you catch the precise moment a ray of sunlight threaded through Sirius’ inky hair and onto his face, making him all but glow in the daylight. You bit your lip, unable to make conversation when he was literally golden.

“Here,” Sirius was the one to eventually break the silence, tossing a glass beer bottle into your waiting rubbish bag. You played along, making a game of catching it. You passed the time that way, making a dull chore into a competition to make it bearable.

It wasn’t until one of the bottles shattered that you sobered up, freezing in place as glass scattered across the hardwood floor.

“Shit. Stay right there,” Sirius ordered, rushing out of the room for a brush pan and broom. You stared at your sock-clad feet, both to ensure there wasn’t any glass on you and to reconsider the dynamic you had with Sirius. He’d been acting normal but hadn’t mentioned the kiss at all, maybe he was politely ignoring it so nothing would change. Or, you realised with a start, maybe he didn’t even remember it. You’d all been drinking and you were pretty sure you’d seen Sirius smoking something with Remus, there was a chance he really didn’t even know it happened. The thought was a little like a knife through the heart but it was better than losing him, so you chose to believe it.

Sirius returned, carefully cleaning away the glass shards littered by your feet as you stood dutifully still. It was strangely intimate, you could hear your friends chatter in a distant other room, a Beatles record floating through the air, but you felt a million miles away with Sirius.

“You’re all good,” He said, tipping the glass pieces into the rubbish, holding thick eye contact. You swallowed, mouth dry as you searched for a familiar quip to move the moment on. Nothing came and you were stuck staring at each other until someone called for you both in the other room.

“Hurry up, you two, we’re making vision boards!” You both snapped to attention, tossing the last remaining bits of rubbish into the bin and hurrying over to where the rest of your friends sat around a long dining table.

“What the bloody hell is a vision board,” Sirius muttered and you giggled at his side, quickly quietening down when he looked at you in a way you couldn’t decipher. Your brain chose to interpret it as discomfort.

“A vision board,” Remus explained with a stern emphasis, “Is where you collage the things you want to bring into the new year. So attitudes, things you want to happen, whatever you want.”

Sirius grumbled a bit more but sat down nonetheless, examining the collection of photos the girls had prepared a few days before new year’s eve.

You all quietened down as the craft progressed, scissor snips and paper rustling filling the room. You were mostly engaged with your own approaching new year visions, gluing down inspirational quotes and images you wanted to live out.

By chance you glanced down at Sirius’ board as you reached over to take a picture from Lily’s hands, eyes catching on one of the photos glued down already. Two figures kissing in the snow, the girl’s hand on the man’s jaw.

You dropped back into your chair aggressively, slumping back slightly.

“Woah, you alright?” James asked, trying to rub glue off his hands. You nodded before he could even finish the question, putting your head down to focus on your board.

What did the photo mean? Was Sirius finally ready to settle down and get a girlfriend? Was it you? Was it because of you? Holy shit, you were such a bad kisser that you made Sirius Black want to stop hooking up with people.

You knew you were being quiet but you couldn’t help it. It was hard to look forward to the year ahead when it was clear to you that something would be different between you and Sirius.

You excused yourself to get another glass of water, sighing as you watched the winter landscape out the window above the sink.

“Alright, dove?” You jumped at Remus’ voice but turned with a small smile. You nodded with a noncommittal noise, taking a sip of water to avoid speaking. He shot you a look you could almost picture McGonagall giving you when you lied about not being stressed during exams.

“Are we not talking about the kiss, then?” You paused. Obviously someone would have seen it, you weren’t exactly hiding anything, but it still sent fear through your veins. Not only would it now be weird with Sirius, people would start to pick sides as you drifted and soon enough your whole friendship group would be fractured down the middle. The tears burned in your eyes without any notice and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop them from falling.

“Everything’s going to fall apart,” You broke down, collapsing into Remus’ arms. He held you for a minute, letting you get the worst out.

“Nothing’s going to fall apart.” He pet your hair softly, “If you like him you just need to tell him. Don’t avoid him because of things you’re imagining might happen. Live in real life, dove.” You considered Remus’ words. They kinda hurt, but you thought you needed to hear them.

No one mentioned your red eyes as you returned from the kitchen with Remus, and Mary kindly told you the group had moved on from vision boards to new year’s resolutions.

You wrote your list in pensive silence, doodling with a sparkly pink gel pen. Staring across the table you were struck with inspiration, scribbling quickly like you were leaving a smoking trail.

The group dispersed after you’d all finished, teenagers filling every corner of your house. Each were tending to their own business, mostly setting up sleeping spaces so they could all stay while your parents were travelling.

“Hey,” You said awkwardly, approaching Sirius as he smoked on the back porch. He turned to face you, lips twitching up in response. “Is this your resolutions list? Can I read it?” You swiped the folded up piece of paper from his long fingers. He looked as if he was going to put up a fight but relented easily, turning to fully face you.

“Only if I get to read yours.”

You traded papers, the unfolding sheets rustling in the otherwise silent air. Your eyes scanned the list, smiling when you saw “buy a motorbike” in unnecessarily formal script.

And then, number five. In trembling hands, you re-read the words several times, not sure if you wanted it to be true or not.

“Tell her how I feel?” You asked, scared to even make eye contact.

“Tell him how I feel,” Sirius read off your list, a joyful spark making its way to his eyes.

“So…”

“I really like you. So much. And when you asked me to kiss you I was so scared that we’d fuck everything up but I can never say no to you. And I wanted to so, so much.”

Holy shit. You felt ridiculous, stressing about this all day when the whole time — the whole time — Sirius felt exactly the same. Your mouth dried up as you searched for words, anything acceptable for the current moment. You gave up, doing instead what you’d been thinking about all day.

And suddenly you were kissing Sirius Black. Again. His lips were just as soft as they were last night but tasted smokey and sweet from the leftover treats you’d all been snacking on throughout the day. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as you possibly could.

You thought it was far too easy to get lost in kissing Sirius Black. Despite the cold air around you, you wouldn’t have been able to say whether it had been minutes or hours and you wouldn’t have dreamt of pulling away.

Cheers and hoots came from your bedroom window, reluctantly pulling yourselves off each other. Your friends were all hanging out the window making right fools of themselves, and you could tell the warmth in your cheeks wasn’t just from the cold. You buried your head in his chest to avoid the stares, revelling in being close.

“So…” Sirius said once the cheerleaders had had their fun.

“We’re certainly productive,” You joked, “I mean, how many people are ticking off their resolutions on New Year’s Day?”

“Maybe I should make another one then.” Sirius grabbed his paper back and pretended to write, “How about ‘get a girlfriend?’” You pretended to think, tilting your head as you pondered.

“I guess I could help you with that.”

[sorrowsofsilence]

the bet 3 • bad omens

pairing: all bad omens members x fem!reader

words: 12.7k • masterlist

warnings: 18+, polyandrous relationship (so yes, there is some angst and discourse with navigating the challenges of a shifting relationship), threesome, foursome, voyeurism, double penetration- pls wrap it b4 u tap it, male!masturbating, male!receiving, fem!receiving, creampies, "sloppy seconds" (oops), swearing, nicknames: princess, pretty girl, good girl), jealousy,

summary: It wasn't really just a game after all, was it?

note: buckle up as there will be a part 4 due to how long this ended up being lol I’m sorry - also it’s 4am and not proof read I’m sorry

PS. THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!

+

Turning, you blinked at the clock on the nightstand, its digital numbers glaring back at you.

10:45 AM.

Your heart sank, realizing you all overslept and missed the bus's scheduled departure time.

"Guys," you said, voice hoarse as you tried to sit up. Peeling yourself from the swede beside you, you frantically shouted, "We’re late. We’re so late."

Jolly groaned beside you, pulling you back down against his chest.

"Five more minutes," he mumbled, nuzzling his face into your back.

"No," you insisted, wriggling free despite not wanting to, "It’s almost eleven- the bus was supposed to leave an hour ago.”

Ruffilo sat up from beside you abruptly, eyes wide with panic.

"What?" He fumbled for his phone on the nightstand, cursing when he saw the time. "Damn it."

Folio muttered something incoherent, rubbing at his eyes as he tried to wake up from the cot on the floor. Matt frowned over at you from the bed beside yours, though his sleep-tussled hair marred the effect.

Noah already began to dress rapidly as you offered an apologetic look to Jolly who sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“We have an eight-hour drive. We’ll make the show but we’re probably fucked for soundcheck,” Matt mumbled, pulling on his jeans.

Ruffilo scrolled through his phone, and you peered over, noticing the array of missed call notifications and texts. “Shit, Bryan’s been texting for hours.”

Matt pulled his shirt back over his body, searching the floor for his baseball cap. Placing the fabric over his head he tossed you a wink, before putting his phone to his ear. “No regrets though, right?”

"No regrets," Ruffilo confirmed, the edges of his mouth tugging into a slight smile as he pulled himself out of the sheets, picking up a shirt.

"Speak for yourself," Jolly muttered. He remained lying down, arm slung over his eyes. But the small grin that played at his lips spoke more truth than his words.

The room was suddenly filled with hurried activity and idle chatter as the boys launched themselves into action - Matt taking control of the situation and letting Bryan know everyone would be there shortly, while Ruffilo, Folio and Noah packed their bags quickly.

Through it all, Jolly lay still, his gaze focused entirely on you, fingers threaded through yours.

“You’re worth it," he declared softly. His tone smothered any potential doubt regarding last night.

"Come on," he said after a moment, finally rousing himself. He moved with careful deliberation as he started to collect his clothing from around the room.

You pushed yourself off the bed and hurried to pack your things. Searching for your hoodie, you sighed in frustration when you couldn’t find it before a hand reached out to yours.

Nicholas smiled warmly at you, holding out his own sweater. With a nod of his head, he motioned for you to raise your arms, allowing him to pull the fabric over your head and down your body, engulfing you in his scent.

“Thanks,” You smiled shyly, mind flickering to images of him devouring your body just hours prior.

He beamed as he placed the hood over your head, gently holding onto your cheeks as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

As he stepped away, you couldn't help but notice the lingering glances from both Noah and Folio. But these looks were not filled with animosity; instead, they seemed to hold a gentle challenge within them. Who could make you smile wider? Whose touch made your heart skip a beat? 

It almost seemed like an unspoken agreement between them that you were cherished by all, but possessed by none.

Yet, despite this understanding, a twinge of envy still crept into Noah's chest.

The brunette came up behind you and rested his hands on your shoulders, smoothing out the fabric of Nicholas’ hood against your back, "You're quite remarkable, aren't you?"

Your face warmed at his words, spine-tingling as Noah’s hand roamed down your back, and Ruffilo’s soft breath brushed your face.

“C’mon guys, we gotta go,” Matt said, eyeing the three of you briefly before opening the door. 

Matt led you all out of the room and down the hallway, while Ruffilo and Folio followed closely behind, deep in conversation. You glanced briefly at one of the workers, who raised a curious yet accusatory brow toward the group leaving the hotel room.

As you moved through the lobby, Noah's arm slithered around your waist, pulling you flush against his side. He pressed a hasty kiss into your hair before diverting his attention towards Bryan who had been pacing by the entrance, phone clutched tightly in hand.

“Sorry we’re late,” Matt said as he approached Bryan, “We overslept.”

“Overslept?!” Bryan exclaimed incredulously, brandishing his phone like a wand, "I've been trying to reach you since six in the morning! The bus was scheduled to leave at nine! You’re the manager, Matt, how come I’m doing the managing?.”

Matt held up his hands in surrender, visibly trying to keep things calm, "Sorry Bry, didn’t mean to stress you out. Let’s head to the bus."

Bryan drove everyone in the van back to last night's venue, and you quickly helped unload the bags onto the bus.

“I’ll stay in the van with Bryan,” Matt said, shifting on his feet as his thumbs jumped across his phone screen, likely texting the venue an update, “We won't have time for pit stops if we want to even make time for a brief soundcheck, so, prepare for eight hours of non-stop driving.”

Once Matt closed the bus door, you smiled at your boys, nerves suddenly radiating through your veins.

Eight hours. With a glance around the bus, you took a seat on the couch, pulling your knees to your chest. You looked around at anything but them; until you noticed Noah sit across from you.

As your eyes met him, his gaze twinkling of mischievous innocence he wore so well, a rush of anticipation warmed your chest.

The bus started to move, smoothly looping itself onto the road.

Noah, leaning over the armrest of the seat across you, smiled that charming grin of his again. Jolly was already fishing for a bottle of water in the cooler. Ruffilo swiped through pages on his phone once more, while Folio had his head bobbing lightly to the music spilling out from the speakers.

It wasn’t an awkward silence, but unspoken words and thoughts lingered.

“You okay?” asked Noah, keeping his eyes on you as if trying to read you like an open book. His nearness made your body shiver in response, images of last night flashing back into your mind.

"I'm perfectly fine," came your reply, gentle but firm.

There was a soft grunt from Jolly’s corner, causing the group to glance at him.

He commented without looking up from his water bottle, “I think we have some things to talk about.”

“Such as?” You asked, knowing what he was going to say- yet prompting him anyway.

“Us,” he shrugged now, eyes darting between each of the boys before landing on you, “What happens now?”

There was a loaded silence that wrapped the room, each one of them mulling over their thoughts. Noah shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding your gaze. Ruffilo stared blankly at his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen while Folio gently tapped his fingers to the beat of the music from the speakers, his gaze distant.

“I mean,” Ruffilo started, his voice cutting through the dense quietness like a knife. “We all agreed that this wouldn’t change anything between us.”

As if on cue, all eyes fell on you. The weight of their gazes made your heart pound against your chest and face, burning.

“But did it?” Jolly pressed on, his gaze steady. His question hung heavily between you.

You remained non-committal, much to everyone's growing frustration. But then again, you had been so calm throughout this ordeal, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred among you and the boys. 

The bet was just for fun, right? Surely, this was nothing more than a week of lust and desire… right?

You chewed on your cheek in thought, unsure now. 

"Well, did it?" Folio echoed his words barely in a whisper. His eyes shimmered with a mix of emotions, the teasing glint now replaced with uncertainty.

Silence fell upon them once more, awaiting your response. 

You looked at each of their faces. Ruffilo's expression was unreadable as he continued staring at his phone, Folio wore an almost amused smile as he bobbed his head along the rhythm of the music. Ruffilo glanced at you briefly before his eyes quickly darted back to his phone screen.

Finally, your gaze landed on Noah, who was staring back at you intently. His gaze was questioning, but there was a hint of warmth hidden beneath his serious demeanour.

You knew there was more to this than sex, and your heart pounded as the words fell from your mouth. 

"It's not that our dynamics have changed... but my feelings have."

The confession hung in the air as a new round of silence sunk into the confined space. It was filled with the hum of the bus engine and the low notes of a forgotten song playing softly from the speakers.

All eyes bore into you; curiosity, surprise, and in some, what seemed like relief reflected at you. You met each gaze in turn, holding your breath against the immensity of your declaration.

"Feelings? Toward all of us?" Ruffilo asked cautiously. His brows furrowed slightly as he studied your face for any inkling of insincerity.

You nodded, biting your lower lip nervously as you tried to gauge their reactions.

"Last night wasn't just... physical." You cleared your throat slightly, catching their almost intense attention. "I mean, it was and it wasn't simultaneously."

"Makes sense," Folio said suddenly, breaking his self-imposed silence. He shrugged a little under their stares. "I mean... feelings can catch you off-guard. It's not like you can control them. Especially in... unusual circumstances."

"Unusual? That's one way to put it," joked Jolly, trying to lighten the mood. A chuckle echoed through the bus from Noah, but the mirth quickly faded.

"I think what we really need to figure out is what you want to happen now," Noah said, leaning forward in his seat to look at you, hands lazily folded on his lap. His eyes flicked away from yours for a moment as if he was afraid to press further.

"To happen now?" You mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Unease stirred within you as you tried to summon words that wouldn't disrupt the equilibrium further.

"The question is more like... do you want us?” Jolly added softly, eyes never leaving yours, "All of us? Not only for sex but more than that.”

A statement so profound left you momentarily breathless. But it wasn't fear or dread that perforated the air within the bus - it was anticipation. A tantalizing spectre of something undefined yet powerful seemed to rise from the worn carpet of the bus, coiling around each one of you, poised to strike.

Noah broke the silence, his voice barely louder than an exhale; "Is that what you want?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, your emotions stripped bare before the boys whom you had known for years. 

"Yes," you found yourself saying, gaze pinned to Noah's warm eyes, "But that doesn't mean everything just... falls into place."

"Do we take turns being your boyfriend?" Jolly asked after a beat, humour flicking through his eyes as he waited for you to react.

You scoffed playfully and rolled your own, "I don't know how it will work, Jolly."

"Neither do we,” Folio admitted, a stark rare seriousness replacing his usual aloof demeanour, “But we all want you. Last night, and the bet, was proof of that.”

"But we're willing to find a way if that's what you want," Noah chimed in, his voice gentle as he held your gaze with a hint of vulnerability.

You swallowed, the implications of what they were saying starting to sink in. Still, you found the courage to reply, "I think I'd like that.”

"What about Matt?" Ruffilo asked, looking up from his phone again to glance at you.

Your brow furrowed, "What about him?"

"He has feelings for you,” Ruffilo continued, meeting your gaze. “You know that."

“I do," you nodded, remembering the words spoken in confidence. "And I care about him. But right here, right now... it's not Matt I need an answer from." You scanned their faces one by one.

A silence stretched between you, and then, as though orchestrated, they each nodded in turn. Noah cleared his throat and played with the hem of his shirt.

“Alright," he said finally, voice steady but eyes fluttering with an array of emotions, "If that's what... if this what we’re all okay with... then we should go for it.”

This time, the silence that ensued wasn’t uncomfortable or tense. It was reflective, filled with a calm understanding and acceptance.

“Yeah,” Jolly agreed, chuckling as he tossed his water bottle from one hand to the other, “But let’s not get carried away. This needs... rules?”

“Yes, agreed,” Folio added in quickly at Jolly's suggestion. He could already see tension lines forming on Ruffilo's forehead.

“I think it’s fair to say the ground rule is honesty," he continued after a beat, "With each other and with oneself."

You nodded at his words, feeling a comforting warmth spread through you as you basked in their acceptance, their willingness to navigate this unconventional relationship.

“And respect," Ruffilo interjected abruptly, his voice a firm echo of conviction, "Respect for boundaries."

There was earnest sincerity to his words, and it moved you profoundly. He wasn't looking at his phone now. His eyes were on you, steady and unyielding.

“No one’s forcing anyone into anything," Noah added quietly. He glanced down at his hands briefly before meeting your gaze once more, "We're all here because we want to be."

A soft, comfortable silence fell as the weight of their words sunk in, each voice echoing the same sentiment: they were in this together

"Time," Jolly suddenly said, breaking the silence, "Each of us gets equal time." His tone was light, but the unexpected depth in his gaze told you he was serious about it.

"Like dates? Hangouts?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him. This might not have been what you initially envisioned when divulging your feelings, but Jolly's suggestion made sense and even provided a fair sense of order amidst this chaos.

Jolly shrugged, "Something like that. Just to ensure no one feels left out. We can make a schedule."

There was another round of nodding from everyone, accompanied by gestures of agreement. Noah gave a thumbs-up sign, Folio hummed appreciatively from his corner and Ruffilo nodded slowly.

"Okay," you agreed with a small smile, a blush creeping into your cheeks colourfully. This was really happening, and it might be terrifyingly unknown, but you were excited, too. 

The tranquillity that swept over you all seemed to promise more than just a simple acceptance.

A moment later, Noah's phone chirped with an incoming message.

He glanced at it, expression unreadable, before passing it around without a word. The message was from Matt, the subject line reading "Guys, we need to talk."

A pause filled the air as they absorbed the brief message. It certainly added another degree of complexity to your delicate situation.

“What’s he want to talk about?" Ruffilo wondered aloud, frowning as he reread Matt’s message. 

Folio bit on his lower lip in thought, "It could be about anything… but I guarantee it’s about what we are talking about right now."

Jolly glanced down at his phone again before looking at you, "Should we tell him? About... all this? Offer him a spot if you’re willing to have one more?" He waved a hand toward the group parked in the small bus.

You considered this for a few heartbeats, "I guess we have to," you said finally, "unless we start hair-pulling for timeslots in front of him and he figures it out himself."

The comment earned chuckles from across the bus, the tension easing somewhat at your joking tone. Jolly’s laughter was the loudest, his boisterous voice echoing like a jingle bell against the battered metal of the bus interior.

“Dibs on being first then," Folio chimed in, grinning. “You know, to avoid hair-pulling."

“Noted,” Noah played along, holding his hands up in mock surrender as he tried to suppress his smile. “It’s all about fairness.”

At that moment, somehow amongst all the complexities and apprehension of what was to come, a bubble of joy swelled within you, buoyed by their good-natured bickering and warm camaraderie. It was a strange feeling - being loved by not just one person, but four... It was intoxicating and overwhelming in equal measure.

"Okay," Jolly declared, "we’ll tell Matt when we get to the venue… he’s going to want in.”

Make that five.

Noah spoke up again. “And what about jealousy?”

Your eyes widened slightly, a lump forming in your throat. That was the issue, wasn't it? The very hurdle threatening to sever this complicated web of emotions binding you all together.

“Jealousy,” Jolly repeated, chewing on the word as if tasting it for the first time. There was a thoughtful edge to his expression, followed by a shrug, "Well, we are all human, aren’t we?"

Ruffilo let out a dry chuckle at that, then sighed, "I think it's unavoidable."

Folio nodded, "Yes, but what we can avoid is letting jealousy ruin everything.”

You looked at him; his statement echoed in your mind and held true. Jealousy was an emotion no one could escape from, but how you manage it was what mattered.

“And how do we do that?” Ruffilo's voice hitched higher as he asked the million-dollar question.

“By talking it out,” Noah placed his hand on your knee, "Being honest about our feelings. If we're starting to feel...you know...possessive or if something's on your mind, say it."

Folio huffed, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned back against his seat, stretching his legs out. “Yeah, that’ll be fun. So who do you think will end up in a jealous rage first?”

You shot him a mock glare. “I’m going to personally ensure it’s you.” You paused before blushing slightly. “Besides, it's not always about possession." you pointed out and felt relieved when Folio nodded with an understanding smile.

“True,” he admitted, giving your hand a light squeeze before letting go. "It's also about the equality... of love.”

“Oof, you’re already sounding like a philosopher,” Jolly commented with a lopsided smile, teasingly poking Nick’s shoulder. This elicited a small ripple of laughter amongst the group, which helped to dissolve some of the tension that had begun to creep in.

“Can’t help it,” Folio retorted with a sheepish grin, shrugging his shoulders slightly. “When you're faced with an unconventional situation like this, it brings out the thinker in you.”

“And that's what we should do," Ruffilo chimed in, seemingly inspired by Nick’s words. "We don't have a rule book for this. We just need to...think before we act or say anything. If something doesn't feel right or if someone isn't comfortable, we need to respect that and discuss it. I mean, that's what relationships are about, right?”

You nodded along, listening intently before chewing on your bottom lip, and staring at the ground.

“Use your words, beautiful. What’s up?” Ruffilo reached over, holding onto your thigh. The touch sent a jolt of electricity up your leg, causing your stomach to churn.

“What if… what if you don’t want me… anymore?”

The bus fell into silence, the weight of your words hanging in the cool air.

After a long pause, Noah spoke up, his voice steady and comforting. “First off, stop assuming the worst. Second..." He paused to gather his thoughts before continuing. "We're all here because we care about you.”

“But what if…” You started, but Ruffilo interrupted.

“What if we turn into aliens? What if I grow a third eye?” He shrugged with a smirk playing on his lips, earning chuckles from Jolly and Folio. “What ifs can drive you crazy, princess.”

“Hey!” You swatted at him lightly, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips.

Jolly chimed in next, leaning closer to you. "Look... this whole thing is new to us too. It's unchartered territory for everyone here." He gestured towards your companions, "And it comes with its risks and uncertainties."

The vulnerability in his voice made your chest tighten.

Noah’s finger gently guided your chin to turn to him, his face inches from yours, “Each of us is committed to you- and only you- from now on. It’s us and you.”

“Look," Ruffilo interjected, his voice breaking through the weighty pause that had fallen over the bus. He shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair before he continued, “We all like you. We've known each other for what? Two years now? And there's just something about you..."

He trailed off indefinitely, leaving the silence to wordlessly weave itself into the fabric of your shared conversation.

“And what might that ‘something’ be?” Jolly burst out in his theatrical manner, falling against Ruffilo in exaggerated curiosity.

"It's not your cooking, that's for sure!" That earned Jolly a smack on his thick arm from Noah, while laughter echoed around the bus.

"No," Ruffilo quietly continued when the chuckling had subsided, "It's... you. It’s every little thing about you. It's the way you tilt your head when you're deep in thought. The way your eyes light up when you see someone in need and can finally help. The way..." his voice faltered slightly before he cleared his throat, "...the way you've found a place in our hearts. Fuck, its the way your mouth feels against mine and the feeling of your fingers running down my back.”

His words hung heavily in the air, “I- and the others, don’t want to even think about being with anybody else.”

Folio let out a strangled laugh, fighting bravely against his blush, "Well... Can't argue with that."

Your heart hitched at Ruffilo's raw honesty. His words conjured up an image of his grey, captivating eyes tracing your every movement, committing them to memory with a love so fierce it made your knees weak.

Jolly let out a snort full of amusement and suggestion, resting his arm over Ruffilo’s shoulders. “Did our dear Ruff just confess his undying love for our girl here?” he teased, nudging him playfully.

Ruffilo shot him an annoyed look but didn’t say anything.

“I feel the same,” You shared a smile, chewing on the inside of your cheek, “I want all of you, and no one else.”

A shared giggle erupted around the bus, light and airy and deceivingly innocent for such a bold revelation.

"Aww, guys," Folio began, grinning like a Cheshire cat, "are we having a moment right now? I feel like we're having a moment."

Jolly rolled his eyes dramatically, tossing an arm around Ruffilo. “Oh definitely. We’re all getting sappy in our old age.”

“Old? You’re the most aged,” Ruffilo shot back, swatting Jolly lightly on the arm.

Noah chuckled as he looked from face to face at his friends, shaking his head with a grin before reaching to tickle your side causing you to squeak with surprise, "Come on...we're all in this together," he added warmly.

The conversation carried on in cheerful spirits - an extension of what felt like an ever-evolving bond among all of you. There was laughter and teasing and even a few moments of quiet contemplation. As you watched the interactions, your heart so full it was nearly bursting, it dawned on you that there could be no looking back from this point.

“Well, I’m gonna take a nap,” Folio said, standing with a stretch, “As fun as last night was I barely slept on that fucking cot.”

His statement was met with scattered nods and murmurs of agreement. He flashed you a grin before heading down the hall toward his bunk, Jolly and Ruffilo following suit.

“You should sleep too,” Noah suggested to you, his voice soft in the dim light filtering through the worn curtains of the bus. He moved to sit next to you on the couch now, subtly reaching over to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I will,” you promised, nestling against him as your body tingled. The bus hummed as it travelled further, everyone else slowly drifting into their dreams. But despite the fatigue that tugged at your eyelids, you stayed awake, your mind filled with thoughts brought forth by recent confessions.

"You know," he started, his voice barely more than a breath in the quiet, "you don't have to worry about anything. We're here. We're not going away."

You hummed, nodding as you closed your eyes, sucking in a breath.

"We...we do love you," Noah whispered against your ear, his words followed by the soft touch of his lips against the side of your neck, a sweet promise painted across your skin.

With those words settling over you like a warm blanket blanketing you in the hum of the bus, sleep finally beckoned. You drifted towards it, his breath against your skin anchoring you amidst a sea of emotions.

"Noah?" You whispered, your eyelashes fluttering against his shirt.

"Hmm?" His fingers traced gentle patterns over your back, making you feel even sleepier.

"I love you too," the words tumbled out softly.

A comfortable quiet ensued, and you could make out Noah's slow smile pressed against your temple as he held you close. It was a quiet moment shared between the two of you, amplified by the thrumming energy of the tucked-away confessions. 

He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, whispering back a response that was both warm and reassuringly subtle, "I know."

++

Your nap was short-lived as your eyes opened slowly, your body moving against the hand of the man beside you.

As you lay across Noah’s lap, you felt his fingers trace up your legs, dipping between your thighs as he gently grazed across the thin fabric of your leggings along your desire.

You froze, heart racing with excitement as he tested you further, slipping his fingers closer and closer.

"Noah..." you breathed out, his name barely louder than a sigh. A shiver ran down your spine, shooting a thrilling jolt to the pit of your stomach. He paused, one finger precariously close to where you needed him the most. His soft laughter vibrations spread from his chest into yours and he placed a reassuring kiss on your temple.

"Pardon me for taking liberties," he murmured, his fingers stilling their prodding explorations, "But I feel we have moved past formalities."

Though his words were slightly teasing, you sensed an underlying seriousness in them that caused a strange heat to spread through you in waves. You pushed back against his hand lightly in silent permission and felt him exhale a soft sigh of satisfaction against your skin.

His fingers started to move again, starting their slow and expert exploration of your form through the thin material until they reached the hem of your leggings. His touch withdrew for a moment as he looked down at you with an expectantly raised eyebrow. Heavily lidded eyes filled with a mixture of excitement and apprehension awaited your response. You nodded, your warm gaze meeting his as your fingers moved to slip the material lower.

Gently biting down on your lower lip, you glanced up to meet Noah's eyes - they were darkened, pupils dilated with desire.

The brunette resumed moving his hand in tantalizing circles between your legs. He watched your face closely as he continued with expert patience, observing the subtle shifts in your expressions, etching each detail into memory. He teased you, delicately brushing your covered skin.

Suddenly, the bus lurched as it veered onto an uneven stretch of road, causing Noah's touch to falter momentarily. His breath hitched alongside yours at the sudden movement.

"Shouldn't we... maybe find somewhere more private?" You suggested, amusement flickering in his eyes.

To that, Noah ran an inked finger along the hem of your leggings, dipping his hand between your waistband and skin to just barely touch your core.

“Doesn’t matter anymore baby. You’re ours now. We are the only ones on the bus.”

Pushing past your underwear he dipped his fingers between your folds, his breath hitching once he felt how wet you were. He chewed on his lower lip, biting back a smile as his thumb circled a slow path over the sensitive bud, every rotation drawing out a choked moan from your lips.

“Shh…” He soothed, holding onto the delicate peak until you were writhing against him, “Wouldn’t want to wake them, would you?”

"No," you murmured, though the sound came out more as a desperate whimper.

Noah's slow, teasing motions inspired a yearning within you that was almost unbearable. "No...they should sleep."

Yet, part of you hoped one of them would hear. 

"That's a good girl," Noah cooed softly, smiling down at you before sinking his fingers into your body, eliciting another choked cry. He tugged your leggings just below your ass, giving him enough room to pump his fingers mercilessly.

Gently rocking against his hand to afford yourself additional friction, he chuckled, brows furrowing in slight concentration as he adjusted his movements.

His other hand roamed up to cup your face, thumb tracing your bottom lip, "You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, leaning down to capture your lips with his own.

The kiss was open-mouthed yet achingly tender. One of Noah's hands was still buried between your legs while the other cradled the back of your head. You could taste the memory of last night's orgy from his tongue and welcome it, losing yourself entirely in the feeling of having him fill you in different ways.

The tenderness escalated quickly into a frantic pulse of desire behind one last thrust which pushed you over the edge. Pulling back from the kiss, a soft gasp slipped from your throat as your thighs tightened around Noah's hand.

"Easy, I got you," Noah whispered, his voice soothing as he rode out the waves of your climax. His fingers never stilled, drawing the pleasure out until you were shivering and whimpering beneath him with the intensity.

Breathing heavily, you watched as he pulled his hand from your body, taking his fingers into his mouth.

“Fuck,” He moaned, relishing in the taste as his hips rocked beneath you, “I love the way you taste.”

His words coiled heat in your lower belly, intensifying the ache between your legs despite the orgasm you’d just had. His mouth returned to yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue; undeniably intoxicating.

“Want you,” you told him in between pants and ragged breaths, fingers fumbling with the button on his jeans. 

Noah led you between his legs, and you slid down onto the floor, knees bent with your exposed ass in the air, tugging at his zipper to expose his arousal. 

He groaned as you wrapped your fingers around him, licking desperately from base to tip agonizingly slow.

"Noah," you murmur, repeating his name like a sacred chant. His fingers weaved through your hair as he reclined back against the seat.

Your finger wound tightly around the base of him, thumb brushing over the wet tip of his swollen cock. His breath hitched, a tortured groan escaping his lips.

You were busy deciding your next move when Noah placed his hands on either side of your face.

"Look at me," he commanded gently, leaving your dripping between your thighs as you nodded.

Lifting your lashes, you found yourself locked in his fierce gaze. His eyes were even darker than when they watched his fingers glide in and our of your pussy.

“God, I’ll never get used to how good you look on all fours,” Noah whispered huskily, a sense of pride flashing across his eyes. A jolt of exhilaration washed over you at the compliment; the image of you splayed out so wantonly displayed on the bus floor pleasing him.

Taking his cock back into your hand, you resumed stroking him once more.

“Fuck,” He murmured appreciatively, his thumb tracing your swollen lips with a light touch. Unconsciously, you parted your lips for him, allowing him to slide his thumb into the warmth of your mouth. His eyes hooded as you suckled it suggestively, a small groan escaping through his gritted teeth.

Gaining courage from his reactions, you freed your mouth from his thumb and planted a chaste kiss atop the tip of his cock, before enveloping him with the wet heat of your mouth. A strangled grumble escaped from Noah’s lips as he watched you take him in without hesitation. His arousal was evident on his face- eyes glowing with animalistic hunger, lips parted in a silent gasp.

You continued to test the waters with slow, gentle licks and soft sucks. The noises he made were encouraging, each whimper, moan and sigh fueling your movements as you grew more confident.

Noah’s hand cradled the back of your head gently, "That's it..." He murmured beneath his breath, clearly struggling to keep his voice down. "Just like that."

The taste of him was intoxicating, driving you to take him deeper. His hips bucked involuntarily, and you had to fight the urge to grin around his length.

All too quickly his voice started escalating, fragmented warnings cutting through the silence - urging you to slow down or pull away. But you wouldn’t. You needed him to come undone, to dissolve under your touch and surrender to that delicious pleasure only you could offer him.

You swallowed around him as best as you could, creating a tight suction that elicited a loud guttural groan from Noah's lips.

Just as you pulled off him, a trail of saliva dripping sensuously from your mouth, you heard a low cough come from the hallway.

Your hand stilled and you glanced up at Noah, who only smirked at the man who slowly approached you from behind.

“Thanks for the show. But I’m tired of just watching.”

You shivered, turning to face the Dummer who stood leaning against the wall, hand wrapped firmly around his arousal as he chewed on the inside of his cheek excitedly.

“You’re right Noah. I do love watching our girl spread on all fours. Especially with her pretty pussy exposed as she takes care of you.”

Your face warmed as Noah’s hand found your jaw, turning you back towards his cock. You wrapped your lips around him once again, causing his head to fall back in pleasure.

You heard Folio shuffle behind you, running his hands up your exposed thighs, encircling the shape of your ass.

"Folio," you called softly, hot breath washing over Noah’s length, causing his grip on your hair to tighten. He mumbled something incoherent under his breath but didn’t stop you; the darkened desire in his eyes told you he wanted nothing more.

Folio chuckled as he knelt behind you, his rough fingers expertly tracing the wetness between your thighs. He spread your folds apart slowly, leaning forward to allow his tongue a sample of your arousal. The jolt of pleasure caused you to gasp and jolt forward, pressing Noah's erection further into your mouth. Noah groaned at the depth and arched into you.

The bus seemed to close in on you, the heat from Noah and Folio's bodies leaving you dizzy and clouded with need.

Nick’s tongue continued its sweet torture against you, each languid lick causing your body to tremble with anticipation. With each pass of his tongue, you pushed back onto his face, desperate.

"Folio," you whimpered his name again as he teased your most intimate area. His hands took a firm grip on your hips, holding you steady as he continued his delicious torment.

"Noah," Nick murmured, pulling away from you momentarily to speak hungrily to the former. "Can't wait to see her take us both."

Noah’s groan of agreement had a slick rush pooling out of you onto Folio's waiting tongue.

His relentless strokes drew another orgasm closer within your grasp. You got lost in the sensation of his tongue and Noah's hardened length in your mouth.

You felt Folio pull away, only to replace his touch with his erection sliding between your arousal.

“How badly do you want us beautiful?” Nick’s voice was husky, thick with desire and anticipation, as he swirled his tip around your opening. You whimpered, body trembling as you tried to push back, craving for him to fill you.

“Tell us,” Noah’s commanding voice cut through your pleasure haze. You moaned around him in response.

“I- I want you,” you breathed out replacing your mouth with your hand, stroking him as you begged. “Both of you.”

"Well then," Folio murmured against the sensitive skin of your back as he lifted your shirt, "Who are we to deny you?"

He didn't waste another second before he thrust into you-- hard. Your body rocked forward at the sudden intrusion, causing Noah's cock to hit the back of your throat again.

Nick’s every thrust was met by your eager pushes, the sensation of being filled so fully driving you closer to the edge. You could hear his harsh pants, and felt his abs tensing against your back with his every movement.

With one hand on your hip and the other on your desire, Folio skillfully manipulated you to a fever pitch. His fingers circled your clit while Noah's cock thrust in and out of your mouth, time slipping along the lines of pleasure and pain.

"Noah," Folio grunted, teeth grit as they scraped against the damp skin of your shoulder. "I'm not gonna last long. She's so fucking tight."

A strange mix of cockiness and raw desperation coloured Noah's voice as he responded, "Don't you fucking dare, not until I fill her mouth.”

Folio laughed, a dark, rugged sound that vibrated through your bones and increased the pace of his thrusts. Your body tightened around him as his fingers dug into your hipbone sky-rocketing your pleasure.

Your mind blanked at the overload of sensations; even as you struggled to breathe through Noah’s relentless rhythm. The world narrowed down to the two men possessing you, their harsh breaths mingling with your own.

All at once, you were on the precipice. Your body tightened like a bowstring, the sweet tension coiling in your abdomen. 

"Noah...Folio," you moaned their names as your vision blurred.

"And there it is," Noah grunted. His hand gripped your hair tighter, and you felt his cock twitch in your mouth.

The taste of him shattered your resolve as Folio's cock stretched you wide. In unison as if orchestrated, Noah spilled into your mouth just as Folio filled you.

Your orgasm was swift and intense, rendering you senseless and quaking around the two men. Each gasp for breath painted pleasure on your senses until you were nothing but a crumpled mess between them, reeling in the aftermath of such pleasure.

When they finally pulled away, carefully untangling themselves from you, it felt like they left behind a void that ached. You swirled your tongue around the salty remnants of Noah, swallowing and collapsing forward onto your hands and knees. Your body felt spent, and yet ridiculously alive – every nerve ending tingling with satisfaction.

If this was a taste of your future, then you were ravenous for it. 

Folio wiped perspiration from his brow and helped you up only for you to flop against him, exhausted beyond words. He laughed lightly, cupping your cheek affectionately as he brushed a stray lock of hair away from your eyes.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice a low rumble that vibrated soothingly through you.

“Mmhmm…” You hummed, too content and flushed to articulate any other response. Nick leaned forward, placing a gentle yet hungry kiss against your lips.

“Maybe we should keep track of all your orgasms,” Nick chuckled again, licking his lips.

Noah nodded eagerly as his gaze was locked on you, blush tinting the bridge of his nose and cheeks.

“Come here,” He whispered, and you nodded, pulling your clothes back up and sitting next to him. Folio joined you on your other side, and you sat cradled between both boys.

“You think we broke her, Noah?” Folio teased, his voice a warm purr against your ear. His arm was draped over your lap, fingers interlocked with yours.

“You can try again later if you want," you mumbled, curling further into Noah's side.

He smoothed his hand through your hair, his heart fluttering when you sighed contentedly in response. His thumb began to draw lazy circles on your shoulder, a comforting rhythm that matched your steady, shallow breathing.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep," Folio warned playfully, grazing his teeth along your jaw.

"Would never dream of it," you replied to Folio's warning. You tilted your head, allowing him to press soft kisses along your jawline. He traced his lips down your throat, stopping just above the neckline of your shirt; another searing kiss here could so easily leave a mark.

His eyes met yours, a silent question in them that had you blushing more than your previous activities did. You nodded, permitting him. A wicked grin pulled at his lips as he pressed a kiss there, wet and heated. You knew a hickey would blossom there within the hour.

From your other side, Noah gave an approving hum, watching you and Folio with half-lidded eyes.

+++++

Matt, although slightly jealous, was happy to join your… relationship.

After arriving at the venue and hastily setting up, you approached him with a blush on your cheeks and a nervousness that seemed almost alien to the usually confident you.

“I want to talk,” you’d said, pulling him aside and tenderly taking his hands. The way you fumbled over words and avoided his gaze had Matt worried.

When you finally voiced out what was going on, the surprise in his eyes was evident. But instead of pushing you away or getting angry, he merely blinked at you, taken aback but not repulsed.

“If this is what you want, then I want it too, " he said, adjusting his cap before smiling warmly. I want you, they want you, and you want us. It makes sense, right? It may have started as a bet, but it's turned into much more.”

Even as the first blush of embarrassed desire rose in your cheeks, Matt leaned in. He whispered against your lips, his voice low and rough, "Besides, it’s not like I've never shared you before." His cheeks flushed pink at the memory and he cleared his throat.

“Well aren’t you full of surprises,” you murmured against his lips. He smirked at that, pulling you closer until there was barely any space left between the two of you.

“Only for you,” he shot back, effortlessly charming as ever. The smugness in his voice made the tips of your ears burn - but it sparked an excitement in your belly that was impossible to ignore.

“Ready for our brief soundcheck, rock gods?” he practically yelled across the green room, causing all the boys to groan in protest.

"Wouldn't be much of a band without it, would we?" Folio refuted, grinning as he grabbed the cymbal bag. The banging and clashing as he set them up served as a prelude to the havoc that would be unleashed during their performance.

Jolly rolled his eyes and stood up, slinging his guitar over his shoulder while giving you a wink that made your heart flutter, "Yea well, don't expect me to save your ass if you miss a beat, Folio."

Ruffilo scoffed from where he was tuning his bass, "Both of you talk big for a couple of amateurs."

"Wow boys, keep your egos in check or we won't be able to fit in the room," you intervened with an amused chuckle.

“Messiah has spoken,” Matt announced dramatically. 

Grinning, Ruffilo plucked a playful tune on his bass, echoing through the room.

On the other hand, Noah couldn't resist teasing you, "Oh yeah? We got to keep our egos in check?" He chuckled, leaning across the couch. 

He reached out and lightly tapped your nose with one finger, "What about you, huh? Got any confessions for us before we hit the stage?"

You swatted his hand away playfully, although your heart pounded at the warmth in his gaze.

"What could I possibly have to confess?" You scoffed, attempting to dodge. But Noah was relentless.

"Bullshit," Noah contradicted, grinning. 

"Maybe I like keeping you on your toes," you replied with a shrug and a smirk of your own. All too familiar heat rose in your cheeks when Matt interjected, "That's our girl."

"Don't ruin the moment, Matt," Folio chided, laughing even as Jolly lobbed a battery at him.

"Why not?" Matt retorted. "This is us. We're not exactly the sentimental type."

"No," Noah agreed, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you into his side. "We're just a mess.”

“A beautiful mess,” Ruffilo added, coming to stand behind the couch. He leaned over it to ruffle your hair, messing up whatever semblance of neatness you had attempted.

You swatted his hand away, instinctively fixing your hair. “Watch it, you.”

He barked out a laugh that echoed across the room. “There’s the feisty spirit we all love.”

“Feisty?" Folio echoed with a wicked grin, "Should we be worried?"

"Or excited," Ruffilo teased. He darted forward, placing a quick peck on your forehead before stepping back with a mischievous grin.

“That’s enough boys,” Matt chided, although he was hard-pressed to hide the laughter on his own face, “We’ve got a show to do and we better fucking practice.”

“Right,” Jolly said, pulling away from you and striding towards the stage.

“Lead on, rock star,” you replied with an encouraging smile.

Matt extended his hand toward you, palm up and you took his hand, letting him lead you down the halls towards the sound booth.

After soundcheck, you all headed back to the green room for a quick break. 

“You were literally off beat bro,” Noah sighed, annoyed. Folio glared in response, nudging his shoulder.

“I literally couldn’t hear shit with my earpiece. I think it's broken.”

"I'll check it out," Matt offered, but Noah shook his head. 

“It’s alright, Folio and I will figure it out. I’ll text you when we need to be backstage. C’mon Nick.” 

Meanwhile, Jolly had surreptitiously sidled up to you, his fingers tracing circles on your arm as you entered the room.

"You doing good?" he mused. The furious blush was still evident on your cheeks and you couldn't help but fidget under his gaze. 

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," you stammered, mustering up a weak smile, only for Ruffilo to interrupt. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and grinned at Jolly.

"Leave her alone, Casanova. Can't a girl get some peace?" Ruffilo chided with a good-natured wink directed at you. 

"Is there even such a thing as peace with you five?" you retorted, nudging him. Your response was received with a chorus of laughter that echoed down the hallway.

“Highly unlikely princess,” Ruffilo laughed.

Jolly approached you with two bottles of water, pressing one into your hand before gesturing to a seat beside him with the other. You graciously accepted both, sliding into the spot next to him. You noticed how his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, causing your face to warm.

“What?” You asked, eyes tracing his face, attempting to read his expression.

“You’re mesmerizing,” he whispered, his gaze devouring you now.

Shifting on the couch you took a sip of your water, refusing to take your eyes off of Jolly’s.

Unable to hold his gaze, your eyes flickered downwards to the floor, feeling both flattered and flustered. His lingering words left you in a tantalizing whirlwind of emotions and made you tremble with a fantastical mixture of terror and thrill.

“Come here,” He nodded, patting his lap.

You paused for a second, eyebrows raised in surprise, before complying with a silent shrug. As you settled onto his lap, Jolly’s arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you close to him.

“Comfortable?” He asked, his voice dropping to a low murmur as he leaned slightly back in the chair.

“Mmm…” was all you could manage in response as you snuggled against him. His heart was thumping against your back and you wondered if he could feel the racing pace of yours too.

As comfortable as you were now, no one else seemed to take notice of your new position. Well, except for one person. You turned towards the direction where Ruffilo was shooting glances at Jolly from the corner of his eye. A slight pang of jealousy was visible in his eyes which he masked quickly when he noticed your gaze on him.

Rather than ignoring it, you nodded at Nicholas, beckoning him forward.

“Feeling left out Ruffilo?”

He shot you a stunned look, but a playful smile danced on his lips. "Never," he declared, rising from his spot on the floor. Suddenly he pounced, tossing himself onto the couch beside Jolly, nudging your legs playfully in the process.

"Hey!" you protested with a laugh, trying to find a comfortable position amidst Ruffilo's sprawling limbs.

Jolly grinned down at you from above, enjoying your struggle. His arm tightened around your waist as if holding you in place, your back pressed flush against his chest. 

“What? Sharing is caring,” he teased, flashing you an impish grin.

The next words that left your lips spilled out faster than you could process them. “Why don’t you show me what sharing looks like?”

Challenged, Ruffilo leaned forward, angling his body towards you. He shot a quick glance at Jolly before his lips brushed against your cheek in a lingering peck that made your heart flutter. "Like that?" Ruffilo asked, the smirk evident in his voice.

Your face flushed a deep crimson, and you ineptly cleared your throat.

"Yes. Exactly like that." You managed to say, trying to keep the fluttery feeling inside under control.

Jolly leaned down, placing a kiss on your opposite cheek, allowing his hands to roam the curve of your hips.

With a careful eye, you noticed Matt leaning against the wall, taking a swig of his water as he watched you intensely.

Without much thought, you slid off Jolly's lap and onto the floor. You tiptoed ahead, biting your lower lip to hide your smirk.

"Liking the view, Matt?" You called out playfully when you were a foot away from him.

Matt choked on his water, and blushing furiously, shook his head in denial, "Wha- I wasn't - you're imagining things." He spluttered shoving the bottle to his lips again.

"Oh right!" You gasped dramatically clutching at your heart. "How could I possibly think that, considering how much you enjoyed it last night," you carried on, wagging your index finger at him admonishingly.

He glanced down at you for a moment before raising an eyebrow at your mock rebuke. "You caught me." He deadpanned.

"Always." You agreed quickly. As if prompted by some inner force, you stepped closer; so close that Matt had to bend his head down slightly to keep eye contact. His bottle suspended halfway between his lips and his grip on it growing looser, you reached up and yanked his hat off his head.

The water from his mouth gushed onto the carpet below, causing Matt to step back hurriedly, sputtering, "What the hell?"

You merely grinned at him, twirling his cap around your finger. Before he could snatch it back, you'd already made your way back to Jolly and Ruffilo on the couch. Planting yourself firmly between them, his hat resting atop your head like a crown, you smirked at Matt.

"Well, are you going to come get it?" you said slyly.

"What's the magic word?” you teased, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you lightly tapped the brim.

Matt growled in mock frustration, pointing at you with a stern look plastered on his face, “You’re lucky we have a show tonight," he warned playfully.

“We have like 20 minutes,” Jolly interjected, placing a hand on your thigh as he peered down at you, his smirk growing.

"Just enough time for some fun then," came your response, tilting your head in challenge. You could practically see the cogs turning in Matt's brain as he worked out his next course of action.

Suddenly, he lunged towards you, but you were too quick and rolled off the couch just in time. You heard a loud thump and a burst of laughter behind you as Matt ended up on the couch where you'd just been sitting.

"Smooth," Ruffilo chuckled, patting Matt on the back while Jolly struggled to contain his laughter.

Pulling yourself up from the ground, you crossed your arms and smirked down at Matt who was now sprawled across both Ruffilo and Jolly like a big blanket. "Second try?"

Matt growled again - this time less playful and more serious – as he disentangled himself from the other two guys. He stood up, eyes never leaving the cap that was now in your hands. His gaze was intense, causing a shiver of anticipation to run down your spine.

“Ready when you are.”

With a swift motion, Matt leaped toward you but you dodged him again, quickly running across the room. You laughed, thinking he was far behind until you turned around.

Two arms pinned you against the wall as his body caged yours against the wall.

"Gotcha," Matt whispered, his breath warm against your cheek. His hand moved swiftly, snagging the cap from your head and placing it backwards upon his own.

The sight of him holding you against the wall made your thighs clench tightly, his hat no longer an obstacle of space between you.

Matt’s triumphant grin faltered as he read the fire in your eyes. A strange electricity danced between you two, the banter fading into silence replaced by the sound of your rapid breaths.

"But I still got you," you whispered, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.

“Stop teasing me,” He mumbled, lidded eyes staring down at you with fueled desire as he dipped his face inches from yours, brushing his lips across yours.

Before you could retort, his lips crashed onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. His other hand cradled the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating, sending a rush of warmth coursing through your body.

"Clock's ticking," Jolly called from the couch. A smirk danced on his lips, one that was mirrored by Ruffilo, “15 minutes now.”

“Then we better hurry up,” Matt said quickly, latching his lips to yours in swift desperation as he tugged your shirt. You immediately moaned into his lips, arching your back to press into his body.

A husked laugh rumbled from Matt's chest as he broke the kiss to nuzzle the side of your neck. His hot breaths tickled your skin, causing a shiver to run down your spine. His hands raked down your sides in an attempt to pull you closer against his chest.

Peeling you from the wall, you two walked over towards the middle of the room, now infront of Jolly and Ruffilo on the couch. As Matt began trailing kisses down your neck you tossed a smug smile towards Jolly, who chuckled lowly.

“Care to join in?” you teasingly asked Jolly, watching his eyes flicker with same mischief he seemed to evoke in you. “Or are you too afraid I might end up stealing your hat too?”

Jolly chuckled, pushing himself off from the couch with a quick shake of his head. “Sweetheart, I’d like to see you try,” he said before stepping closer, taking place behind you.

As Matt’s lips trailed to the side of your neck, a gasp slipped past your lips as Jolly put a protective hand on your waist. His head tilted down towards you, causing your heart to pound harder against your ribs.

“Twelve minutes,” pausing Matt warned, voice strained while maintaining eye contact with Jolly, who didn’t seem fazed one bit by his reminder.

“A talented man can accomplish much in only five minutes,” he said with a nonchalant smile before he leaned down to capture your mouth in a heated kiss, his tongue tracing the bottom of your lip.

You glanced quickly at Ruffilo, telling him to lock the room door as Matt's grip on your waist tightened.

“Take my clothes off,” You mumbled against Jolly's lips, the whisper carrying an undertone of urgency. Quickly slipping his hands under your shirt, he tugged it gently over your head, throwing it carelessly onto the floor. Matt moved away momentarily to assist him, his warm fingers tracing the bare skin of your back as he unhooked your bra with practiced ease. Once again discarding the garment somewhere in the room, he moved closer still, his chest flush against yours.

"Eleven," Ruffilo called out from the couch, his own hand tracing the outline of his growing arousal beneath his slacks.

Eager fingers skimmed the waistband of your leggings, pulling them down and tossing them amongst the floor.

Matt and Jolly’s hands roamed your body as you were sandwiched between both of them, their mouths and tongues darting across your skin greedily.

Both rotated their hips into your body with asynchronous movements, curating a string of moans as their desires pressed into you.

"Ten," Ruffilo growled, his voice husky as he watched you with hooded eyes. Looking over at him, you give him a sultry grin and crooked your finger challengingly.

Jolly's hand trailed down your stomach until it converged with Matt's hand already covering you. A gasp escaped your lips as they simultaneously began exploring you further, their fingers dipping lower over your exposed skin and causing shivers to course through your body.

Jolly whispered against your ear, his hitched breath causing you to stir further back against him, rubbing against his covered erection, “You’re soaked.”

“Then do something about it,” You mumbled, staring at Matt who’s face flushed from the excitement.

Matt slipped his fingers into your core, eliciting a moan from your chest as Jolly circled your clit with his middle finger.

"Nine," Ruffilo growled, and you watched as he freed himself from his pants, stroking himself as he watched you mercilessly pressed between his friends.

Jolly nipped your neck lightly, drawing a gasp from your parted lips as Matt's fingers curled inside you.

"More," you whispered, arching your hips to meet the rhythm of their hands.

“Impatient today, are we?” Jolly murmured in your ear, but you felt him unzip his jeans along with Matt, both cocks pressed against your thigh, “Jump.””

Obliging, you allowed Jolly to lift you from behind, forearms holding you underneath the bend of your knee as he spread you open for Matt.

"Eight," Ruffilo called out, his voice tight with anticipation. You glanced over at him, noting the way he was pumping himself with an intensity that matched the thrumming excitement coursing through your veins.

Nicholas’ eyes were fixed on you as Matt positioned himself between your legs, his arousal teasing your folds before pushing into your body with need.

His moans were erotic as he relished in the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him.

With you secure in Jolly's arms, Matt pressed more deeply inside you, each slow thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You reached down to grasp at Matt's arm, his bicep flexing under your touch as he filled you with slow deliberate motions.

Jolly nodded at Matt, having him replace one of Jolly’s arms so they both held you in the air.

Sucking his fingers briefly, Jolly teased your behind with proading motions.

“Think you can show us what it takes to be a good girl and handle two cocks?”

You leaned your head back onto Jolly’s shoulder and blinked up him, even as you gripped tighter to Matt- your breath hitching as you felt the cool slickness of the swedes fingers against your other entrance.

Jolly's grin was positively predatory, his eyes aflame with a need that mirrored your own. You nodded mutely, your body arching on instinct as he began nudging at your tight hole with one slick digit.

“Only if you can make me cum before Nick gets down to 3,” You moaned, brows furrowed as Matt pounded into you.

"Seven," Ruffilo called out again from the couch, his voice hoarser. His tight grip on his arousal and the desperation threading in his gaze made you bite down on your lower lip, the anticipation prickling under your skin.

"Challenge accepted," Jolly said, pushing his cock against you from behind. His head tipped back against the stress of having to delay himself, and once he finally sunk into your body your stomach butterflied with need.

Matt’s grip tightened around your thighs as you clenched around him due to the additional pressure. He moaned your name loudly, his teeth gritting in an attempt to hold back his orgasm.

“Fuck,” they both swore in unison as they watched each other disappear in and out of your body. Their shared rhythm faltered but quickly caught up again amidst groans of pleasure, their breaths hot and humid on your flushed skin. As they started following a synchronized pace, you could not tell where one ended and another began inside you.

Holding onto Matt’s shoulders for stability you cried out their names, completely overwhelmed as both pounded into you greedily.

"Six," Ruffilo rasped out, his voice strained from the feverish pace he was setting. The sight of you between his friends, being taken so thoroughly, was pushing him to the very brink. He never took his eyes away from the spectacle, his hand moving over himself swiftly and unrelentingly.

"I'm- I'm close," you whimpered, your fingers slipping from the sweat-soaked hair at Matt's nape to grip onto Jolly's muscular arm. The simultaneous stimulation was driving you towards a precipice of release faster than you'd anticipated. A sharp gasp left your lips as Jolly drove deeper into you, hitting a spot that made your vision blur.

"S...Five," Ruffilo's voice cracked against the constant onslaught of pleasure laced visions before his eyes. He watched as Matt's jaw clenched, just as desperate to hold back as he was himself.

“Hold on, love,” Jolly growled in your ear, “Give

us another moment.” Matt punctuated his plea with a particularly forceful thrust that made you bounce in their hold. You moan loudly, your fingers involuntarily digging into Jolly's arm.

"Fuck!" Jolly swore, feeling the first clench of your impending orgasm. The intense pleasure shot through your body as you tightened around them both.

"Four," Ruffilo's voice was nothing more than a whisper, almost obscured by the desperate sounds coming from the three of you. He was teetering on the edge, his hand working in time with Matt and Jolly’s vigorous pace.

Jolly accelerated his rhythm, the wet slapping sound of his skin against yours mingling with your frenzied cries of pleasure. Matt mirrored his movements, the two working as one to push you toward release.

"Three!” Ruffilo's voice barely held onto the last shred of control he had left, his free hand gripped tightly onto the armrest of the couch.

Jolly held you tighter, teeth gritted as he buried himself to the hilt inside you. The angle allowed him to brush against that sensitive spot within you once more, eliciting a choked moan from your lips. Pure bliss ran through your body as you let go.

“Fuck,” Matt exclaimed as he took in the sight of your body arched back, legs writhering and shaking against his hold as he kept them spread with Jolly.

Your next scream reverberated through the room, a raw and primal sound signaling your climax. Matt and Jolly barely had time to react before they were being squeezed tightly by your convulsing inner walls, the sensation pulling them over the edge with you. Both their movements were erratic before stilling abruptly, spilling inside of you with mangled breaths.

"Fuck-" Matt stuttered out haltingly between clenched teeth. Jolly bit the side of your neck gently, his teeth grazing the sensitive hickey Folio left earlier.

"One," Ruffilo choked out which caused you to stare at him hungrily.

“Wait Nicky-” you begged, allowing Jolly and Matt to lower you to the ground.

Ropes of their cum dripped between your thighs as you stood up shakily, but the sight of Ruffilo, so close to his own release, kept you rooted.

His eyes were wide with desperation and arousal as you inched closer to him; his focused gaze never once strayed from your sinful body getting closer.

"Z..Zero," he managed to breathe out just as you knelt before him, your lips scant inches from the tip of his cock. His eyes were pleading, awaiting your next move.

Without needing any further invitation, you opened your mouth towards his waiting desire.

"No..." Ruffilo swallowed hard, his voice a whisper among the heated gasps and pants of the room. His cock was throbbing, but he held himself back at the last moment, gripping your shoulder firmly. "Not like this..."

There was a pause when everyone else in the room seemed to hold their breaths, chests heaving from their own climaxes as they watched the interchange between you and Ruffilo.

"Up," Ruffilo ordered in a low voice, his fingers tracing over the curve of your ass as you clambered onto his lap.

Without any hesitation you sunk down onto his arousal, his head falling back in relief.

You cried again over the feeling of Nicholas filling you right after Matt released inside your body, leaving you clenching your thighs at the thought.

As you rocked on his lap, each movement was filled with a world of pleasure. Your lips met his in a feverish kiss, muffling your sweet moans that trickled into his mouth. His hands were on your waist, guiding your rhythm with determined fervor.

“H-How are you.. so full…” Ruffilo slurred out although the question was halfway lost amidst the gasping moans of your coupling.

"It's them,” you gasped against his lips, tilting your head back as he rolled his hips upward, forcing a high pitched whimper from your throat. "You taste - fuck, Nicky - you taste them?”

The thought drove him wild and he could only groan as he pistoned into you with renewed vigor, his mind clouded over with hot lust. His fingers dug into your hips as he pulled you down harder onto him every time he thrust up.

A knock on the door sounded and you heard the door knob jiggle; but nothing could pull you away from Nick’s cock as he thrust into your body from below.

“Ignore it,” Ruffilo rasped, his fingers now delving deeper into your flesh, “Fuck the time.”

But the knock came again, this time louder, a worrisome addition to the symphony of pleasure echoing through the room.

“Guys? Open the door,” You heard Noah yell from the other side, “I need Y/N’s help.”

"Ignore him," Ruffilo commanded, his thumb tracing over your shivering belly that was full of their mixed cum. His teeth grazed the tender bud on your chest, drawing a desperate cry from you.

You glanced at the door, a pang of worry dancing in your chest…yet the persistent knocks and Noah’s voice only served to amplify the decadent pleasure you were feeling – it was a sinful thrill, performing something so intimate, so intense, with three men, while another begged for entrance.

But Ruffilo was focused too much on your body, and the sounds it made in response to his. He gnawed at your hard nipple while the other hand trailed down, tracing over the curve of your hip bone and around the juncture where he thrust into you.

"Forget Noah," he said with clenched teeth. His breath was hot against your damp skin and you felt a tingling sensation start from your center.

You shook your head in protest, ready to beg Matt to open the door- but with one final thrust all you saw was stars, your vision clouded from Ruffilo’s cock buried inside as another orgasm was pulled from you.

Ruffilo was not far after, his body freezing as his nails dug into your hips, spilling inside of you.

Both of you gasped in unison, panting heavily as shockwaves of pleasure coursed through your bodies. Ruffilo slowly loosened his grip on your hips, falling back against the couch as he held you close to his heaving chest.

"Noah...I swear," Ruffilo hissed between breaths, a low growl resonating in his throat.

"Open the damn door!" Noah shouted again, the desperation in his voice more apparent than before, “we are on stage any fucking minute!”

Jolly walked over and turned the nob, allowing Noah and Folio to enter; both froze when they saw you splayed on the couch, face flushed and body dripping.

Noah's brow furrowed as he took in the sight before him, his gaze darting between your spent body and Ruffilo who was still buried deep within you. Folio however, simply raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest.

“Having fun, are we?” he sarcastically asked, leaning against the door frame.

Ruffilo grumbled something under his breath, but otherwise made no move to untangle himself from you. You could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks under their scrutiny but all you managed to do was whimper, closing your eyes as aftershock rode through your veins.

However, once you pulled away from Nick and finally stood up, you couldn’t help but feel shy under Noah and Folio’s intense gaze.

“Locking the fucking door was not cool,” Noah said, folding his arms.

Jolly laughed, shaking his head, “What if Bryan came in? What if another crew member did?”

Folio shrugged, “Yea well when we ask you to open the door, do it. Don’t leave us out.”

"Noah, Folio... Relax," Matt managed to say in between his chuckles, finally gaining some breath back. His smirk was wide and lopsided from the sidelines, naked under the dimly lit room with a sheen of perspiration matting his chest hair.

Jolly, leaning against the door frame now, rolled his eyes, "Seriously, guys. Have a bit of patience, will ya? We were in the middle of something." He walked back towards you, placing a protective hand on your waist as you struggled to keep standing.

“Fuck off Jolly,” Noah snarled, glaring at him with burning eyes, “This isn’t about patience.”

“And what is it about then?” Ruffilo snapped back from the couch.

“It’s about fucking respect.” Noah shot back, leaving no room for argument in his tone.

Everyone fell silent as Noah's words echoed around the room.

Rule one of this relationship: respect.

A bitter taste filled the air as Noah's words echoed. He spoke out, pointing a firm finger toward Ruffilo still lounging on the couch, “We all agreed to this…thing because we’d respect each other. It's not just about getting our rocks off.”

Noah then turned his gaze to you, softening ever so slightly, "And it's not just about respecting one another," he said quietly, almost a whisper but loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, "It's about respecting her too."

You said nothing, standing there with Jolly’s hand still wrapped around your waist, warm and protective. You could feel every eye in the room upon you; their intense gazes made you feel even more raw and exposed than before.

"I needed to talk to her about the ear pieces and we are literally going on stage any minute," Noah continued after a heavy silence had filled the room again. “But you guys ignored me. Like you’re the only ones that matter. We still have a fucking job to do: and that job is not getting off minutes before a show.”

You chewed on your lip as Jolly finished helping you dress, and ran a hand through your disheveled hair.

Noah sighed, continuing, “It’s not necessarily about the sex; like yea, I’d love to have joined or what the fuck ever,” he said, glancing at you briefly before looking at his band mates, “But to make this shit work, we need to listen to everyone in this relationship.”

"Fine, we fucked up." Matt finally conceded, crossing his arms and leaning back onto the couch. "Next time we'll remember to let you in, Noah."

"I can't believe we're having this discussion right now." Jolly interjected, pinching the bridge of his nose, "A literal stand-off because we didn't let Noah into the room."

"This isn't about locking a door," Ruffilo said, "This is about control."

"What?" Noah's brows knitted in confusion, taken aback by his accusations, “the fuck does that mean?”

"You want control over this --" Ruffilo gestured vaguely to Jolly and you "--you want control over her."

"No!" Noah shouted, his face reddening as he pointed a trembling finger at Ruffilo, "Don't turn this around on me! This isn't about control; it's about, fuck..." He groaned in frustration, stuffing his hands into his hair.

"It's about boundaries. There are five of us here - all with the same level of ownership, the same rights, and the same responsibilities."

The room fell silent again for a minute before Folio sighed heavily. "Maybe we're looking at this the wrong way," he suggested, "I want everyone to feel equal in this relationship." He looked around the room between you and each of the men, his fiery gaze finally resting on you.

There was a moment's pause, then the click of a microphone being switched on followed by a low, distorted voice echoing over the sound system: "Bad omens on stage in two. Meet back stage."

The room, which had moments ago been echoing with tension, turned to sudden urgency. All thoughts and discussions of boundaries and power dynamics were put on pause.

"Guess we gotta go," Folio said, breaking the silence.

Jolly’s hand slipped away from your waist as he swooped down to grab his leather jacket; Matt hastily buttoned his shirt, while Ruffilo went over to the couch and began pulling on his boots.

Noah grumbled under his breath and nodded stiffly at you, his usually easy-going demeanor replaced with a stoic facade. Before turning on his heel and moving toward the door, his words floated back towards you, "We'll talk about this later."

You felt a pang of regret pinch your heart as you looked at each man striding out of the room; their bodies tense, their spirits subdued. You realized then what an enormous impact this conversation had on all of them. This wasn't just about a closed door or establishing boundaries, it was about setting the course for the unfamiliar and complex journey you were all embarked on together. This was a relationship shaded in harmonies and discord.

Just like their music, it was a composition of distinct individuals striving for harmony, yet not losing themselves within it.

Folio turned his head towards you at the doorway, his eyes lingering on yours as though waiting for some form of assurance. You nodded, forcing a small smile onto your lips, an affirmation that this conversation was necessary and beneficial in the long run. A promise, whispered through that fleeting contact: we will navigate this complicated score together.

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note 2: I have no idea if this is what you guys wanted :-: lol, but this is the turn I took to build upon some more plot I guess since it was a requested a few times about delving into the actual relationship aspect. I do really appreciate the love this has gotten, especially considering I wrote the bet as a oneshot. Yet, here we are lol. Thank you so much for taking the time to read!

+

tags:

@xxkittenkissesxx @deathblacksmoke @nyxisnotok @anameunmusical @sitkowski

@sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @thefallennightmare

@whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @veronicaphoenix @lacy1986 @calleyx13

@somewhere-diamond @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @silentglassbreak

@darkmxgician @sprokat @xserenax-13

@philomenie @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @blend-in-with-the-madness @rumoured-whispers @anything-more-than-human

@fuck-me-muke @fadingangelwisp @tosoundlessdarkistare

[opbackgrounds]

The Romanticism of One Piece V: Personal Freedom, The Ideal Child, and Monkey D Luffy

AO3 Part I Part IV

“God will not have his work be made manifest by cowards” —Ralph Waldo Emerson 

In chapter 507, Oda writes his thesis for the entire series when he has Luffy state that the Pirate King is the freest man on the sea. It’s a simple statement said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, but it completely recontextualizes everything that’s come before it while setting the stage for everything to follow. 

When making a close analysis of this entire scene, you’ll notice that Rayleigh spends much of the conversation not directly looking at the Straw Hats. He’s physically turned away from the people he’s talking to, and the framing Oda uses often puts an added layer of distance between the two parties. 

It’s only when Luffy refuses to hear the secrets of the One Piece in favor of having his own adventure that Rayleigh turns around. He looks Luffy in the eye, and…he smiles. Rayleigh had already agreed to help coat the Straw Hat’s ship, but you get the impression that in this moment Luffy’s passed some sort of test, that Rayleigh finally sees in Luffy the same potential Shanks did all those years ago. 

It’s impossible to say if this is the reason Rayleigh came out of hiding to save the Straw Hats later in the arc, but there’s no denying that he went above and beyond to ensure Luffy was strong enough to make it through the New World. After all, there’s no reason for him to spend two years training Luffy if he wasn’t rooting for him to become King. 

It’s scenes like this that make Luffy a deceptively difficult character to write about. On the surface he seems like the perfect shonen archetype: simpleminded, glutinous, with a vague enough end goal to support a long-running manga series. But it’s as you dig into the specifics that he becomes increasingly difficult to define. 

One reason for this is that Luffy remains amazingly consistent as a character. He is both the unstoppable force and the immovable object. He will not be denied once he sets his mind on something and remains unshakably sure in his own convictions. He starts the manga fully convinced in what he believes a pirate to be, spending much of the East Blue saga beating up rival pirate captains for not living up to his exacting standards. While he does go through character development throughout the series, it is less a change in personality as a refinement of what was already there, like burning away the dross from a precious metal. By becoming a better leader and captain he becomes a better pirate, and at heart, Luffy has always been a pirate. 

I’ve already mentioned the importance of Jean Jacques Rousseau’s The Social Contract to the Romantic movement, but he wrote a second work that was just as influential. In Emil, or Concerning Education, Rousseau lays out his theory of childhood education. He was very concerned with maintaining that which was natural, starting with the infant remaining unrestrained by the binding chains of swaddling clothes and continuing through adolescence with Robinson Crusoe as the only book his imagined student ever studies.

By the age of 15 his student would have learned nothing of history or ethics or metaphysics. In Rousseau’s own words, “You are probably alarmed at the number of subjects I have brought to his notice. You are afraid I will overwhelm his mind with all this knowledge. But I teach him rather not to know them than to know them” (emphasis mine).

It was during the Romantic era that childhood began to be understood at its own separate stage of development, rather than seeing children as very small adults. A veneration bloomed for the innocence of childhood, similar to the myth of the noble savage that was equally popular at this time.

My favorite example of this idea of childhood innocence I stumbled across in my reading was Percy Bysshe Shelly’s strange and unfinished poem A Vision of the Sea. The poem rather gruesomely depicts a ship ravaged by a terrible storm that’s killed everyone on board except a mother and her small child. There are also a pair of tigers that fight a bunch of sea monsters to the death, but that’s mostly unrelated to the point here. 

Shelly describes the child of the poem—again, surrounded on all sides by death and destruction—like this

She clasps a bright child on her upgathered knee; It laughs at the lightning, it mocks the mixed thunder Of the air and the sea, with desire and with wonder It is beckoning the tigers to rise and come near, It would play with those eyes where the radiance of fear Is outshining the meteors; its bosom beats high, The heart-fire of pleasure has kindled its eye,

The mother bemoans their fate and tells the child not to smile. She recognizes that death is near, understands the hopelessness of their situation. She mourns. But the child, still innocent and pure, just wants to play with the tigers.

Is there anything more Luffy-like than that?

Oda has said in multiple interviews, most recently when talking with Iñaki Godoy when he visited the set for season 2 of the live action, that he writes Luffy as an ideal child. He recognizes that as people enter society they lose personal freedom in exchange for social responsibility, so he created a character that truly has the freedom to do whatever he wants.

But for as childlike as Luffy is, he isn’t a child. He bears enormous responsibility as captain of the Straw Hat Pirates. But it’s a responsibility of his own choosing, because he wants to, and it’s not something that’s been forced on him by the world. Luffy’s continued rejection of his Grand Fleet shows how he eschews any attempts to add any additional responsibility he does not want.

To the Romantics, society and civilization were seen as corrupting forces, so anything that stood apart was by default pure. The solution was to be found in nature and the natural. After all, Adam and Eve only fell after eating of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. If one could separate themselves from this knowledge, they, too, could enjoy paradise. 

This idea would eventually snake through Europe, developing as it went, until it landed on American shores, and in the 1830s the Transcendental movement began in the United States. It marked the first true American philosophy, and overlaps with American Romanticism. The central tenant is a focus on self-reliance and an inherent distrust of institutions, which they saw as corrupting of the spirit. 

One of these early Transcendentalists was Henry David Thoreau, who famously spent two years living alone in the woods as a sort of experiment, building his own house and growing his own food, stretching the limits of his own self-reliance. His experience would become the basis for the book Walden. It’s here he muses on a great many subjects, and was preoccupied with the artifice of modern society. 

To Thoreau, too much stock was put into material things, with countless people working jobs they hated to support a living that the world told them was required before they could be accepted. The same man was judged completely differently depending on whether he’s dressed well or poor, or the size of their house, or by working a socially acceptable job. People enslaved themselves to the ever-changing whims of modernity and denied themselves the satisfaction of living exactly as they pleased. To quote Ralph Waldo Emerson, Thoreau’s close friend and fellow Transcendentalist,  “To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment”. And to quote Emperio Ivankov when explaining how they managed to carve out a slice of paradise amidst hells of Impel Down, “We have our freedom”.

Neither the veneration of childhood nor the self-reliance of the transcendentalists match exactly with what’s presented in One Piece, but in Luffy there’s an interesting mix between the two. While Luffy makes his reliance on his crew clear, he is beholden to no one but himself. He maintains a child-like innocence and wonder all throughout the series, but unlike many characters who follow this template, he isn’t naive.

Luffy has a unique ability to cut through bullshit. He relies on instinct and follows his heart above all else. During Alabasta when Vivi was worrying herself into knots over the enormity of the coming civil war, he maintained a laser focus on the root of the problem: Crocodile. For most of us, as we grow up our vision is clouded by the outside interests of the rich and the powerful. We get so tripped up trying to make our way through the complexities of modern life that we lose sight of what’s truly important. We worry in equal measures over the past and the future, and in doing so miss out on the beauty of the present. Contrast that to a character like Luffy, who is so committed to the present that no future scheme survives contact with his whims, and who remains so unconcerned about his past that he had no idea that he had a father. 

Thoreau makes it clear that he spent two years living in the woods because he wanted to. During the early chapters of the book he says outright that he didn’t want or expect others to follow his path, but to find fulfillment in their own way. For some, this can be seen as selfish. Thoreau also made it clear that, for example, he didn’t believe in giving to charity. To him, it was better not to give than to give out of some kind of obligation. 

Likewise, Rousseau recognized the child’s ability to turn self-love into selfishness as they grow into adolescence, and took great pains in describing how he would instruct his imaginary student in pursuing his own happiness without infringing on the happiness of others, by having him empathize with even the lowest parts of society. 

Selfishness in One Piece is often treated positively, and is one of the key traits that makes a good pirate. In order to chase one’s dreams without abandon, you have to be willing to shove everything else aside. It’s why characters like Yassopp and Olvia are never condemned by the narrative for abandoning their families, and is even the crux of the entire Baratie arc while Sanji struggles to find his “spear of spirit”.

One of the most common examples of Luffy’s self-centered morality comes in Impel Down. He doesn’t free the prisoners or team up with character like Crocodile out of some moral outrage for the despicable conditions of the prison or because of the inhumane torture of his fellow man. He just wants to save his brother. If he could have reached Ace without setting off a riot he would have, and wouldn’t have felt guilty about leaving the rest behind. 

A more interesting example, I think, comes from Luffy allowing Robin onto the crew after Alabasta. It’s easy to forget that Robin at this time had just finished helping Crocodile orchestrate a civil war. The artificially-created drought displaced and killed untold numbers of people. Innocent people, who had personally done her no wrong. While Robin had no intention of giving Crocodile the in-universe equivalent of a nuke, her plans put Vivi and other people Luffy cared about at enormous risk. 

And yet, he says she isn't a bad person. Why?

Well, Luffy’s selfish. He doesn’t judge people by their clothes or their work or if they help start civil wars. Robin saved his life twice, and for him, that was enough.

The secret that makes Luffy work as a character is that his selfishness is often exerted in the service of others. During the post-Marineford flashback Luffy makes it very clear that he’s ultimately motivated by the desire to not be alone (ch584). Similar to what’s described in book IV of Emile, he’s experienced suffering and takes great pains to avoid feeling that way ever again. He’s very quick to recognize others who are hurting and is willing to fight on their behalf.

Nothing else matters. Luffy’s willing to work with psychotic criminals like Bege if it means saving Sanji. He’s willing to team up with Crocodile if it means saving Ace. He’ll declare war on the World Government for Robin and take on the biggest bounty in the East Blue to save Nami. Luffy lives a life without regret, and in doing so does the sort of things that readers bound by the constraints of society only wish they could.

Luffy doesn't fight in pursuit of systemic change. He’s not a Revolutionary. He helps the gladiators of the Colosseum not because he recognizes the horrors they experience under Doflamingo’s rule but because they gave him food. And he expects to be judged in the same way, not caring how the citizens of Fishman Island look at him, but lets them come to their own conclusions based on what they see. Yet systematic change follows wherever he goes, the chaotic, disrupting force of Luffy’s personality refusing to kowtow to any of the great powers of the world.

This brand of selfishness would be terrifying if Luffy were not so quick to make friends. In searching for his own liberation he ends up liberating others by complete accident. But the characters who catch Luffy’s attention are the characters who fight for themselves, even if they aren’t strong enough to win without his help. This is seen from the very earliest chapters in the series, when Luffy only intervenes on Coby’s behalf after the latter insults Alvida, or how the Straw Hats only help Usopp fight off Kuro because he’s first willing to protect his village. Even the Revolutionary Army is only interested in helping those who are willing to pick up arms, making this a theme that transcends the pirate-focused narrative. The overwhelming force of nature that is Luffy empowering rather than conquering as he pursues his own ultimate freedom.

With this in mind, it comes as no surprise that the original Joyboy was the first pirate, or that Luffy is his successor. The character of Joyboy seems to be based on Caribbean myth brought over by West African slaves, and is a figure of dance, joy, and chaos, uniting people via celebration. It’s no accident that every big arc ends with a party and that people are brought together by their ability to genuinely laugh and be happy. 

(Credits for this go to this reddit thread. Sadly sources on the real world Joyboy myth seem to be sparse)

While the ultimate significance of Joyboy and the nature of Luffy’s devil fruit have yet to be revealed, Luffy is no stranger to fighting against in-universe religious powers while ultimately taking the form of a god himself. It’s important, I think, that Oda portrays religious beliefs fairly neutrally up until the point where they cause human suffering. Skypiea remains a theocracy even at the end of the arc. The destruction of the spirit tree grove of the Shandians is treated with utmost seriousness. Dorry and Broggy fighting because of their belief in the god Elbaf is one of Usopp’s main inspirations throughout the series. And yet in both a literal and figurative sense, Luffy is God’s natural enemy. 

Because at the end of the day no one, not even God, should stand in the way of progress and liberation. For Luffy, he finds that freedom in his adventures across incredible and impossible lands. This is something that would have resonated with the Romantics of old, as they often found God not in dark, dusty churches, but in nature, and their pursuit of the sublime. 

[cumikering]

Gym bro Soap x reader

4k | fluff After a month away, Soap came back to a pleasant surprise

Your new building was a little far from everything. Sure, the walk to the bus stop was longer, but it meant fewer speeding cars or drunk people yelling in the wee hours of the night.

But it wasn’t what sold you on the studio flat. When the polite landlord took you there for a viewing, you passed the gym, tucked away at the end of the building. It wasn’t fancy – probably why it wasn’t advertised it in the first place, but it had all the necessities. You couldn’t ask for anything better for the price.

You weren’t into body building, but it was high time you made exercising a habit, especially now that you had no excuse to skip working out anymore.

In comfy shirts and leggings, you started going. Some days were easier, but you managed to visit the gym at least twice a week. You were proud of yourself for sticking to your commitment despite the circumstances.

See, you didn’t expect much, but the other gymgoers didn’t return your smile even when they would chat and giggle amongst each other. Needless to say, it wasn’t the most welcoming feeling. It didn’t take long for you to learn to keep your head down and stay out of everyone’s way. You started going in at odd hours for a little peace and quiet, so you didn’t feel judged and silly for even trying.

So one early Sunday when you pushed the door of the empty gym open, a relieved smile bloomed on your lips only to drop when grunts and heavy breathing greeted you. You paused in the doorway, spotting a man in a hoodie on the reclining bench.

Maybe another day.

You began your session: warming up on the elliptical before heading to the dumbbell rack. But oh, the only other man there, the same grunting one was there reracking his massive weights. Your steps slowed.

He was huge. He’d taken his hoodie off; his black undershirt didn’t leave much to the imagination. His shorts couldn’t hide his muscled thighs either. He had an interesting hairstyle - a mohawk, as if he didn’t command enough attention without it.

You spun on your heels; you could do something else meanwhile. You made your way to the pulldown machine only to realise the rope attachment was missing. You scanned the room, discovering that it was on the ground next to the cable machine… Which the man was now using.

Well, you certainly didn’t want to disturb. What if he was using it? You contemplated before he let out another strained grunt. That was a territorial display, wasn’t it? A stern warning for you to not bother him. You decided to use the bar already attached.

You’d never used this attachment - always in popular demand, but at least you’d seen people using it. You did your best; a set of 8 was a good start. As you shook off the strain in your arms between sets, you noticed the man walking over in your direction in the mirror.

Was he still using the machine? Or was your technique atrocious? It was a little heavy for you, but you controlled the negative, not letting the weights fall back and slam. Oh dear, you must have done something, judging by the frown on his face.

“How many sets left have you got on this?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to jump in,” you squeaked, jumping off the seat.

“No, no. If you’ve got sets left we could work in together.” He gestured for you to sit back down.

You didn’t know where to look. He had such clear blue eyes, trimmed dark stubble lining his shapely jaw. He was far more muscular up close; his wide shoulders only emphasised his tapered waist.

His hips canted as he casually shifted his weight. “And whilst I’m here, I can spot you too if ye’d like.”

With his frown gone, coupled with his Scottish accent, he appeared far more sociable.

“Oh…” You slid back into the seat.

He pulled the bar down for you. “I like a wider grip,” he said, pointing further down the curved bar. “But ye should see which grip is most comfortable. Lean back a bit. Keep yer chest up, and pull.”

You did as instructed.

“Nice an’ slow on the way back. There you go.”

You grinned. “Oh, that’s a lot easier now!”

“Let’s do a set of ten. That’s three… Four…”

After your last rep, he helped you with the bar again as you got off the seat. “Thanks so much!”

“Am Johnny by the way.” He full stacked the machine before grabbing the bar and taking the seat. “If you need help, feel free to ask.”

You would have loved to return the favour, but with the way he made his set of twelve look like nothing, he probably didn’t need the help.

You did two more sets after each other before you headed to the cable machine. He showed you his favourite exercises there, adjusting the height and weight for you. He didn’t make you feel small about making mistakes, instead encouraging you and helping you.

After your session, you thanked him again for his help.

“Don’t mention it. It was my pleasure,” he answered with a smile before taking a swig from his water bottle.

“See you around, Johnny!” You waved at him.

When you walked back to your flat, it dawned on you that it was the first time your workout didn’t feel like a chore. It was then you realised why people preferred having a workout buddy.

It was silly, but Johnny’s little crush on you made him feel like he was in primary school all over again. Because… Well, he wasn’t sure you were even aware of his existence before that Sunday morning.

He saw you first last month after he got back from a mission. It wasn’t often that he saw a fresh face in the gym so you didn’t go unnoticed, especially not when you looked like that. You always had your head down, as if you were trying to be invisible. You might have been to others, but not to him. Sometimes between sets, you’d smile at your phone, maybe even let out a small laugh. The little he saw intrigued him.

It was irrational - he was a grown man. He could just talk to you, but he didn’t, content with simply admiring you from afar. He wasn’t your type anyway. A sweet, quiet lady like you wouldn’t like a brash man like him. And so over the weeks, if he was lucky enough to encounter you, he’d steal glances.

Johnny always preferred his workouts at an idle gym, so when he went on an early Sunday, he didn’t expect anyone to walk in on him and his ratty hoodie. He was supposed to have a run after and didn’t bother wearing anything nicer than the hoodie he went to bed in. But when he realised it was you, he ripped it off immediately. He’d never let you catch him looking like he was allergic to the shower.

He didn’t know what came over him – maybe because he was feeling ballsy with his deployment coming up later that month. But before he realised what he was doing, he was walking over to you, armed with the absurd question of how many sets you had left. It was just as well no one else was there so there would be no witnesses to the devastation, but it wasn’t one. Far from it, in fact.

When you smiled, his stomach flipped – his first time seeing it up close, and directed at him. And that smile remained for the most part until you excused yourself back to your flat.

He swore to never leave his flat looking less than immaculate. It was a good decision, because two days later, he saw you again. He made a beeline to you at the pulldown machine as you finished your set.

“Hi,” he said, helping you with the bar.

“Hi, Johnny.” You smiled up at him. “Thanks.”

Catching you wasn’t hard after that. You told him your schedule and he tried his best to match it even when you didn’t always show. This went on for another week before he finally mustered enough courage to make his move.

“Want to grab dinner after this? Am leaving fer a trip tomorrow so I’ve got nothing in the fridge anymore.”

That wasn’t a lie, but why did he make it sound like he usually cooked his own food? He hated cooking.

“Oh, sure. I was planning on getting something too. What were you thinking?”

He made you choose the place and insisted on paying, mumbling something about you picking up the bill next time. While you appeared to be timid, it was evident it was only because you needed the right company. Over the meal, he enjoyed listening to you talk about your interests. You shared a similar taste in films and recommended each other a few titles.

When he revealed his hobby of sketching, you lit up. Upon your request, he showed you some of the drawings he’d made on his phone.

“Oh, these are wonderful!” you cooed, admiring them. “I used to draw when I was younger, nowhere near as well as you though.”

“Maybe we can sketch together.”

“I must be really rusty by now.” You let out a small laugh, handing his phone back to him. “Unless you want to teach me?”

His eyes sparkled. “Of course.”

The conversation drifted to the best restaurants in the area before he told you he was SAS. He vaguely mentioned that he dealt with demolitions, and that he’d be gone for about two weeks. You seemed impressed by this, and he found it adorable how you kept rewording your questions, as if they were going to offend him. He reassured you you could ask anything and he’d tell you what he could.

At the end of the night, he walked you to your door, and you wished him all the best for his mission with the kindest smile. He promised himself he’d be back soon to see it again.

As Johnny drove to base the next morning, still buzzing from the night before, he kicked himself for forgetting to get your number amidst his excitement.

But maybe it was just as well he forgot.

Countless times he’d been described as a mutt by people on base – too eager and impatient. Gaz had told him he pushed women away with his unfiltered enthusiasm. It was a concept he’d never been able to completely grasp: why would you want people to not show you how much they liked you? He knew he preferred that over someone who played games.

But over the years, he’d been rejected and left hanging. Perhaps there was some truth to what Gaz said. Surely, he was willing to accommodate you as to not put you off. He could be patient and match your pace.

So the morning after he came back, he trimmed his stubble to a presentable length (unfortunately he couldn’t do his own hair so the mohawk was still overgrown). He told himself to not look like he missed you too much as he entered the gym. Alas, he couldn’t hide his excitement from the sheer occurrence of seeing you.

“You’re back!“ You grinned before your gaze dropped to his neck.

The tan lines from his throat mic must have looked apparent. It was a recurring problem.

“I am. Hi,” he said, searching your face. He’d missed you.

After a warm up, he picked up a pair of dumbbells.

Next to him, you smiled. “Looking big, Johnny!”

He paused. Was he, even in his oversized shirt? Oh, you were going to make him blush.

“Ye got plans today?” he asked between sets.

“Just need to do my weekly shopping.”

“My mates told me about this place. S’not too far, think you might like it. Also I can give ye a lift. I need to do some shopping myself.”

“Oh, that would be nice. Thanks so much!”

“I feel I should have got yer number so I didn’t hav to ambush you like this.” He shrugged, pulling out his phone.

You laughed, typing your number in. “Don’t worry about it. I got no plans,” you said as you handed it back.

After his shower, Johnny flexed in the mirror. While he was away, more often than not, he would lose weight. Perhaps you meant to say he had more muscle definition, but it didn’t matter. You noticed. You shouldn’t have given him that compliment because he’d spend days thinking about it with a toothy grin.

You emerged out of your flat wearing a shirt, leggings and canvas shoes while he wore a sweater with jeans and boots. Okay, maybe he was a touch overdressed for a quick lunch and a shopping trip, but you looked so sweet in your casual attire, he couldn’t help but smile.

“I watched some of the films you recommended. You have good taste,” you quipped over lunch.

He grinned. “I’ll be sure to recommend more.”

“And I drew again last week. A castle – a bit ambitious, I admit.” You chuckled.

“How did it turn out?”

“Could have been better, but I enjoyed the process. I think it’d be nice if we could draw something together, and maybe you can give me a few pointers.”

You didn’t have to ask twice. “I’m free this afternoon.”

After the trip to the supermarket, Johnny invited you to his place to sketch. Accompanied by tea and biscuits (something he never ran out of due to his chronic sweet-tooth), the event stretched into hours as you chatted and laughed. You were a good student - following diligently and learning fast, but if he was honest, you weren’t half as bad as you said you were in the first place.

As the sky darkened, you excused yourself back home for dinner. He could have offered to cook, but he decided otherwise as he didn’t want to come off too strong (mostly because he wasn’t ready yet to reveal that he lacked the skills to).

Johnny didn’t mean to, but ever since, he made sure to go to the gym the same time you’d be there. You kept each other accountable with your workouts, reminding each other of the agreed schedule. Not like he needed the prodding - getting to see you was all the motivation he needed, but anything for an excuse to talk to you, right? Besides, it was nice when you texted him, letting him know you were heading to the gym. If he let himself fantasise, it was as if you missed him.

You’d workout together two to three times a week. You’d tell him about your day and he’d listen with a grin because why did it feel so good just to be around you? You’d ask about his day in return, and he’d talk about his mates, mostly the silly stories so he could watch you light up with that melodious laughter.

On the days in between if he couldn’t physically wait to see you again, he’d borrow some milk or eggs. If you didn’t have any either- well, I think were due for our weekly run to the supermarket anyway. Don’t worry, he’d help you carry all your shopping like always. What use were his muscles if they weren’t to help you?

Sometimes when the mood struck, you’d sketch together on Saturday afternoon after shopping. It also became a ritual to take you to dinner before his deployments. He didn’t like to show it, but he still had nerves to be calmed even after many years in the job.

When he came back – he didn’t realise it at first, but he hung around at yours as long as you allowed him to stay. Before you, he preferred to lock himself in his flat when things were fresh. It was then he noticed that he’d been falling asleep thinking of you, especially when he was away – his much needed tranquillity in the chaos. He found himself doodling you in his down time.

However, as well as things were going, it didn’t seem like they were progressing. Working out, shopping and the occasional takeout from down the street in hoodies and sweatpants seemed to be the most he could get.

Of course Johnny adored any minute he had with you, even if it was doing mundane activities. There was something weirdly intimate in seeing the everyday you, that you didn’t need anything grand to enjoy each other’s company. It made him warm and fuzzy inside, but he wanted more. You were more than a gym buddy, or someone who lived in his building. He didn’t want to imagine things with you – he wanted them to be real.

Was he not good enough for you? Was he not your type? Did he annoy you with his excuses to see you? He just wanted to feel useful.

“I can drive ye t’yer friend’s later,” he said as he helped to rerack your weights.

“I can’t let you do that.”

“I don’t mind. Will be on my way out fer lunch anyway.”

Later when you answered your door in a pretty dress, he tried to not gape. He’d never seen you dressed up as you were usually in your oversized shirt and leggings when you worked out, or anything comfortable for the shopping trips and humble meals. Still, in any state, you couldn’t get any cuter in his eyes.

When he pulled up at your friend’s, he turned to you. “Let me know if you want me to pick you up, and maybe we can grab dinner after? There’s a place I’ve been meaning to try nearby.”

“I appreciate it, really. But I don’t want to bother you, Johnny. You’ve been way too nice!”

“Is no bother. Got nothing to do today.”

It was his go-to excuse. Innocent, open-ended, welcoming. It served him well - you were always so grateful for any help from him.

He grinned when you nodded. He needed to show you off, especially when you were so cute that day. Later, you thanked him again for picking you up and insisted you pay for dinner, which he agreed to.

While the restaurant had lovely décor and beautiful, warm lighting, it was crowded that Saturday night which meant the service was slow. It didn’t matter though if he could sit there and watch you smile. Oh, you were so sweet in your outfit, your glossy lips pink and soft. If he asked nicely, would you let him hold your hand?

A voice calling for you interrupted his daydreams. You looked up at the figure approaching before a grin broke out on your face.

“Bella! Hi,” you squealed and jumped out your seat to giver her a hug.

He knew Bella. You’ve mentioned her over the months, one of your cousins. You were going to catch a film with her next week.

“What a lovely dress.” She gave you a once over, rubbing your arms before turning to him with a friendly smile. “And who’s this?”

“Oh, this is Johnny, my friend.”

He tried to hide his eye twitch as he forced a smile.

“Ah, nice to meet you.“ She clasped her hands in front of her. “Right, just wanted to say hi. We’re still on next week, yeah?”

“Yes, of course. See you soon!”

She wrapped an arm around you for another squeeze before heading back to her group of friends a few tables over.

With a giggle, you said something about Bella living nearby, but Johnny barely heard it. The fleeting exchange sent a twinge of irritation to his chest.

Friend? If he was fair, he shouldn’t have expected anything other than the generic introduction. Things had been respectful and platonic so far, which he was fine with, so why would you describe him as anything other than a mere friend?

Okay, so you took things slow, perhaps you were even a little oblivious. It was fine - it really was! It was just he wasn’t used to any of this. Much like fireworks, the crushes he’d had were usually explosive with him charging on and ending as fast as they started.

Not you though. You lingered, hiding and burrowing in the nooks and crannies of his chest like an infection. Not like he wanted you to leave, he wished you never would. Whatever this was, he’d been enjoying it, even if it was just the simple act of doing chores with you every Saturday. In fact, it was the highlight of his week. You had grown to be more than a muse, a constant company in his lonesomeness.

Sergeant John Mactavish, a sniper and demolitions expert, had an abundance of patience - usually. He thought he could play along, but perhaps he wasn’t as patient as he thought he was.

When the bill came, he swiftly sent the waiter away with a wad of cash.

“Johnny, you said you’d let me pay!”

“We’re friends. It doesn’t matter who pays,” he said, shoving his wallet back in his pocket. It was immature, but the sarcasm couldn’t help but bleed through.

He didn’t miss the way your gaze dropped. He walked you to your door, but you didn’t say much the rest of the night.

Johnny’s infuriation hadn’t dissipated by Monday morning. If any, it had thickened and hardened and stuck to his teeth.

He couldn’t believe it. Did you earnestly not realise how foul the F word you used was?

He headed to the gym on base the first chance he got – his sanctuary. The frustration that crawled under his skin was the infamous forbidden pre-workout.

“Gaz,” Johnny called as he laid on the bench, in position for a bench press. “Can ye give me a spot, mate?”

Kyle made his way over with an amused smile, standing over him by the heavily loaded bar. “Going for a PR, eh?”

“Aye,” he grunted, gripping the bar, his thumbs tucked back.

“Oi, oi! The fuck you doing, mate!” He smacked his hand.

“Need to feel something,” he said as he repositioned his grip, before puffing his chest up for the set.

Kyle pushed the bar down, preventing his teammate from lifting it off. “Not from the bar crushing your fucking windpipe though, is it?”

Johnny’s arms flailed to his sides. He sighed as he stared blandly at the ceiling. “I think my heart is broken.”

He grimaced. “Did you get dumped? I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.”

“Ah don’t think… she even sees me as a man.”

“Friendzoned then, innit?”

Johnny had never been friendzoned, because no such thing existed. The term was for cowards who couldn’t take rejections, and he was no chicken. A no was a no, and he never took it to heart.

“Ye know I hate that word.”

“No, no! It’s a good thing. It means there’s still hope.”

His blue eyes sparkled, the first since the dinner. “Wait, really?”

He nodded. “You just need to be clear with your intentions. Be physical, flirt, give her compliments.”

“I thought I’d been doing all that! Also, wasn’t it you who told me I was always too eager?”

“Sometimes when you’re too polite, birds think you’re just being friendly.” He shrugged. “You might need to be a bit bolder to get the point across.”

Was this his green light? He’d waited forever to finally wear his heart on his sleeve.

“If that doesn’t work either, then what’s left is to just be honest. But if she’s not interested, you have to be ready to walk away.”

Poor Kyle – his words fell on deaf ears. With the silly grin on his face, the Scot had stopped listening as he fantasised about shamelessly flirting with you. Oh, he was going to have a mighty good time.

Masterlist Possessive best friend Soap

@tiredmetalenthusiast @sofasoap @astraluminaaa

[boredpotate]

Happier Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Arcane or any links. I only own the concept idea to this story and the story itself.

Concept: Isekai Fem Reader turns back time to fix her timeline, but it has unforeseen consequences.

Reader Pov

"MMMMPPPHHH!!!" I let out a muffled yell of pain. One of my kidnappers stomping on my braced leg; the leg brace being broken a while ago with some of the parts being bent or broken off.

I tried to escape, I really did, but that blow to the head really isn't me doing me any favors. They snuck me back down here to the deep end of the Undercity and once far enough away, they started their "payback" in some fucking dead end alleyway. Taking turns punching, kicking, slapping and just overall beating me to a pulp.

"Hey! Remember not to mess her up too much. We won't get paid if you break the merchandise" The woman who I determined as the boss of the rest of the group.

"Oh c'mon! We did this to get payback didn't we!?" one guy says as he kicks me on the ground as a heave for breathe.

"Yes, we did. We also all want to make an actual pay from this right?," their boss says and I can only guess the others agree, "Then we can't fucking kill her! We fuck her up, let her have what has been coming for a long time and then get paid. After that we can start making big moves down here, especially after this bitch is stuck in recovery." she says as she grabs my hair and lifts my head up to show them my state before throwing me back into the dirty alleyway floor.

"Fine. Still gonna have our fun though." Someone says kicking me in the back, the bruises that were already beginning to form from earlier assaults making the pain much worse.

I feel emotions rising again, but I don't shed tears for them. That would just make them happy. Instead I hold out and hope for this to be over soon; for the pain to just stop already. But a part that I try to bury down still sticks to my mind. A part of me that fears that this won't end, that they won't stop, they'll get carried away or change there minds.

'What if I die here?' the thought runs through my head as someone else decides to join in and get their hits in. The pain not getting any better, and only escalating as I scream out from behind my bindings.

"AAAAMMMMMPPPHHH!!!"

Powder Pov

"So what is it you wanted to talk about?" Ekko asks as we dance together as the music plays and people party and mingle around us.

"Two things. First, Y/n and I talked and she said some things that really touched me and open something up in me. So, I want to present the power cell with you. As partners, like you said you wanted to; before I walked off on you like a bitch. Sorry about that by the way." I say, feeling a little guilty now that I think back on when Ekko first asked me and I got upset at him.

"Really!? That's great! And you don't have to apologize for being upset. You were going through some things. We all do. But are you sure? You really want to do this with me?" he asks which makes me smile.

"Yes. I really do. I-I don't want to be stuck. I was scared of messing it all up and screwing things up for you too. I thought I would fail at it all..... but then Y/n talked to me. I'm still scared, but if I fail, I want to work through it. I wanna push forward and keep trying. I want to do that with you, Ekko." I admit, and he smiles and we lean into each other and have an intimate moment together on the dance floor.

Ignoring a random whistle and comment towards us from someone who is probably drunk as shit, even though the party just started.

We pull apart and continue dancing; holding each other close and I feel a weight be lifted off my shoulders. Finally feeling..... free.

"You don't know just how happy that makes me Powder. I promise you won't regret it," he says with determination in hus voice making me smile at his steeled resolve, "And the second thing?" He asks, making me a little nervouse.

"Right. So y'know how we said we would talk about our "thing" with Y/n tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Why?" he asks as he furrows his brows.

"Well when Y/n talked with me she said some things that were really touching and meaningful and then something inside me was just like 'Oh shit. I love her,' sooooo I may have kiiiiiiisssed heeer" I say as I shrink back slightly, afraid that he will be mad.

"......Okay." he says casually which makes me stunned and we stop dancing.

"Wha?"

"Okay. Surprisingly, I'm not mad."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Usually I would, but this is Y/n we're talking about. We both know we have a "thing" for her, and I honestly don't mind," he explains making me relax more as I hold his hands, "Is that weird?" He asks and I take a moment to genuinely think on it before answering.

"No, at least, I don't think it is. Even if it were the other way around, I don't think I would be mad either. As long as it's her," I say as I think back on those beautiful words that Y/n let spill from her lips. Her soft lips, "She makes me feel a certain way. Just like you. She brings something out of me that I didn't know was there." I say, and I hear Ekko chuckle.

"I know. She's also kind." "Caring too." "Loves Isha." "Always wants to help." "Cute too." "More like hot as fuck."

We bounce off of each other as we list the things we have grown to love about Y/n in just a month of knowing her. I smile and think back fondly on all the times we spent with Y/n and Isha. Just living life happily together.

"I love her, Ekko."

"I love her too." He says and we both stand there, two idiots in love with someone and wanting to bring her into our lives.

"You think.... You think she might feel the same way?" I ask him with hope in my voice.

"I don't know. You're the one who kissed her. You tell me." he says with a laugh.

"Well she didn't push me away, but she also didn't kiss back, although I think that's mostly because she was in shock. You should have seen her face."

"I got a glimpse of it when you two came back. Looked like her brain was fried" he says and we both laugh a little at that, "Since we're on the topic; how was it? The kiss?"

"It wa-"

"Hey you two!" I am interrupted by being pulled into a tight hug by none other than my sister Vi.

"Hey sis." I say in a strained voice.

"Happy you made it." Ekko says, his voice also strained and I see Cait shaking her head over Vi's shoulder.

"Of course we made it! This is a big night! Sevika's here too, but she went straight to the bar for a drink." Vi says as she somehow squeezes us tighter.

"Sweetie, you're gonna kill them if you hold them any tighter," Cait says, making Vi let go and take a step back, "You two looked like you were in a good mood. I'm guessing the energy cell was a success?" Cait asks.

"You know it. I already have it on display and ready for Powder and I to present to investors and the judges." Ekko says, making Vi perk up at the mention of my name.

"Together?" Vi asks, and both she and Cait look towards me expectantly so I give them a nod, making them both brighten up more, "That's great! Amazing! So are you two are going into this as partners?" Vi says excitedly making me smile at her encouragement.

"Of course. It's like what Y/n said. We're gonna rattle the stars." I say as I think back on those beautiful words that reached and touched such a deep part of me.

Suddenly I feel something ram into my lower back, almost throwing me off balance, begore quickly turning aroundto see Isha in a new frilly dress. Looking very happy.

"Isha! Look at you! When did you become royalty?" I ask as I kneel down to get a better look at her and she does a twirl to show off her dress to us.

"I didn't know Isha was a princess. Cupcake, why didn't you say anything?" Vi says jokingly and get's a pinch on her arm.

"I'm not a princess, and my family isn't royalty. We just collected a lot of influence over all of the years." Cait defends herself.

"So, basically royalty then." Ekko says, making the rest of us chuckle as I pick up Isha, and Caut sighs in defeat.

"Ekko! Powder! There you guys are, I've been looking for you two," I hear and turn to see Mylo and he does a double take at Vi and Cait, "Oh, hey! Good to see you two made it."

"What did you need?" I ask.

"Just wanted to let you know there's already some high profile looking people eyeing your energy cell, if you wanted to leave some early impressions on some investor's before the competition. Claggor is already showing off our plant. See?." he says as he points in a direction and we see Claggor showing off their invention to some people.

"Shouldn't you be with him?" Ekko asks and Mylo burshes it off and blows a rasberry.

"That's more of Claggor's thing. I'm better off mingling with the ladies." he says smugly and obviously eyeing at Gert on stage.

"You're such an idiot" I say as I shake my head, before feeling Ekko grab my hand as Vi tries to give him some advice on what not to do with women.

"Wanna make an impression?" Ekko asks and I look at Isha who nods her head happily.

"That looks like a yes. But first; hey sis! Cait!," I call to them and grab their attention, "Can you ask Y/n to meet us at Ekko's display? She helped us make it too, so I want her to be there when we show it off. That's fine, right?" I ask Ekko and get a nod.

"No problem! Where is she amyway? You four Are usually always hanging out together." she says with implication in her voice.

"She was sitting at the bar the last time we saw her. She should still be there," I say before adding on more thing, "And if she looks like she's in shock or contemplating something. That's fine. Just send her our way." I say we start walking away to where I would presume Ekko's display is.

"Don't worry, we'll find her." Cait says reassuringly before we start heading to the power cell; it already having people inspecting it.

"You ready?" Ekko asks me and I nod.

"Always."

Caitlyn Pov

"Can you believe it, Cupcake? Powder is gonna present with Ekko! She's finally gonna get out there and show off to the world." Vi says excitedly. Which I understand completely considering all the times I've heard about Powder holding herself back.

"She looked happy. I wonder what made her so confident to try now?"

"I'm willin' to bet it's her and Ekko's latest eye candy," Vi says with a smirk, "Those two are lovesick if you ask me." she says as we look for the girl in question around the bar area.

'Who would've thought an investigation would lead to a new addition of our family and friends.' I think back to just a month ago when we first met Y/n in this bar. I was slightly scared of her then, but afterwards she showed a much mofe gentle side of her. One that cared and laughed.

"Vi! Cait! It's good to see you two made it!" Vander calls out as he finishes serving a handful of people.

"Of course we made it. We wouln't miss such a big night." Vi says as we approach the counter.

"I saw you two lookin' around the bar. Somethin' wrong?" he asks sounding concerned.

"Nothing at all. We were just looking for Y/n. Powder and Ekko want her there with them to present their power cell, and said she should be here. Probably in an unusual state too, but Powder said that's fine." I explain to get rid of his worries.

"Oh, good. Don't need trouble on such a goon night. Last I saw she looked freaked out about somethin' before going out the back door for a breather. Though I don't know where she went afterwards, Silco and I got busy once the party started kickin' up."

"Thank you. We'll go check to see if she's still out there." I say as I glancs at Vi and nod towards the door, before making our way there.

Once outside and in the alleyway that the door leads to, we do a quick scan around to see if she's here.

"Damn. Not here either. You don't think she got drunk and wandered off do you?" Vi asks me with some worry in her voice.

"No. Vander would have told us if she drank. I also don't think he would have let her out here on her own is she was drunk."

"That's true. He wouldn't risk that on any of us." She says as she goes deeper into the alley to see if she might be nearby, and I head the opposite way towards the main street.

As I walk, I suddenly hear a small wet sound when I take a step.

'It didn't rain today.'

I take a step back and look down before kneeling to get a closer look. My eyes widen slightly at what I knew was blood. My shoe making a print of it and some drops of it surrounding the area I stepped

"You got something over there Cupcake?" Vi asks, but I don't respond. Trying not to panic.

'It could be from anything.' I thought before spotting something familiar laying near a trash bin.

"Cupcake? You okay?" Vi asks now behind me, but I get up and quickly walk towards the object and pick it up. My eyes widening.

Y/n's helmet. No doubt about it with the bunny ears Isha drew on it. It's dented in the back and I turn back to Vi, her now leaning down inspecting the blood before looking up at me and her eyes widen in fear just like my own at the helmet before looking into my eyes. We have a wordless conversation through our eyes before rushing back inside.

Y/n was in danger.

Powder Pov

"With this, it should produce a much more effecient power cell. Both for long-term use and energy efficiency. We...." Ekko continues to explain to people that have shown interest in the energy cell. It's been going great. Isha seemed to like the attention when we mentioned how she along with Y/n helped us with putting it together. Speaking of.

'Where is she?'

It shouln't be taking this long for Vi and Cait to find her. Unless Y/n herself didn't want to come, but they would have told us if Y/n refused.

I take a glance around the bar and try to see if I can spot her when I see Vi and Cait rushing in through the back door, not caring to close it. I see them rush over to the bar and immediately grabbing Dad, Silco, Sevika and Benzo's attention, as I see fear on their faces. My heart starts beating faster at their expressions and only get's worse when I see the other three's expressions go from shocked to fear.

I hold Isha closer at that and tighten my hold on Ekko's hand and give it a tug to the side.

"Um, could you give us one second?," Ekko asks them before stepping aside with Isha and I, "Powder, what's wrong?" he asks and I only nod towards the bar and he looks to see what I see. Isha noticing as well.

We move forward to try and get a better look at what's happening through the crowd, and I spot something in Cait's hands. Something I recognize immediately as we get a better angle.

"Y/n's helmet." Ekko says for me with with worry in his voice.

I see a dent in the back of it and look up and see that Cait has spotted us. She doesn't need to say anything for me to know what happened. I can see it in her eyes.

Y/n was attacked, and by her absence took also her.

'Someone kidnapped Y/n.'

Something inside me awakens at that thought. I don't care. Y/n was taken away. We need to get her back.

I need her.

We need her.

Reader Pov

How long has it been? Minutes? Hours? I don't know. All I feel is pain and exhaustion as I lay limp in a dirty alley. I tried to grt away from it all and dissasociate, but the pain is too much. My throat feels strained from all the yelling and screaming.

"Alright! I think that's enough. We gotta move before someone finds us here," Their boss says, but I feel a foot apply weight on my braced leg. I only groan in pain as I am too tired and in too much pain to scream, "I said enough! Anymore and you'll kill her."

"And!? This bitch has had this coming for a long time!" The man from earlier yells out.

"Because then we can't get paid, remember? We got our payback; now we get paid." Their boss says again.

"I say we off her here and now. Bitch deserves it." A different woman says and I hear some murmurs of agreement from the others.

"Are you guys crazy!? We do that and the enforcers will come down on us harder than they already are now!" Their boss says, trying to regain authority, but it doesn't sound like it's going well.

"She's the reason why they're hitting us as hard as they're in the first place! What happens after she recovers and comes for us!?" the other woman says, getting more murmurs of agreement.

"I say we send a message." I hear the guy from earlier say. I start panicking as I see someone hand him my shovel that was taken off of me and start walking towards me.

"Hey! This is not the plan!," Their boss tries to step in front of me to stop him, but is blocked by others and moved aside, "Are you guys serious!? If you do this we're fucked!"

I try to get up to run or fight. To at least do something, but I'm too tired and in too much pain. I can only hardly push myself up with my arms before being stomped on my back.

'This is it? Dead in a fucking alleyway?,' I thought as I am kicked to roll over on my back. The others all cheering the man on as he steps over me, 'Maybe this is the cost? Time letting me face the consequences of my actions,' I barely stare up at the man as he lifts my shovel high over his head. Ready to bring it down onto me, 'As long as they live.' I try to accept, but then the memories come running back to me.

Talking with Vander, Silco and Benzo.

Listening to Heimerdinger play toons on the street.

Messing around with Claggor and Mylo.

Having tea with Cait and Vi.

Sevika showing her tough love.

Going out with Powder, Ekko and Isha.

Talking, laughing, caring and living.

'I want to live.'

I move my head last second and the shovel imapcts the ground next to my head and I use as much strength as I can muster curl up and kick him away. I use the force of the kick to roll over onto my feet and try to run in the confusion, but don't make it far. Someone manages to trip me and I fall down again.

"Damn! She still has some fight left in her! Not enough luck though!" The guy says with a laugh as I try to get up, but I get stomped on my leg.

"Stop! If you do this we're done for!" their boss, or maybe former boss, tries again to stop him but is stopped.

I can only look over my shoulder as the man with my shovel stands over me again and raises it high.

'At least I tri-'

*BANG*

"AAAGH Shit!" The man yells as he drops the shovel and blood spills from his hand. I look forward and see Cait and Vi there.

"Drop your weapons now! Or else!," Cait yells out orders, but no one moves. She shoots near one's head and only barely misses, "I'm not asking again! Drop! Them!," she commands them and they follow orders this time, "Back away from her to the end of the alley! Now!" she says and I glance back to see them continuing to follow orders.

I hear Cait and Vi get closer to me and I can only make brief eye contact with Vi before they move to stand between me any kidnappers. I hear people running from where Cait and Vi arrived and look forward again.

"Cait! Vi! What happ-......" I feel a wave of relief go through me as I hear Powder's voice and see Ekko next to her with Claggor and Mylo behind her.

They rush over and untie my restraints before gently turning me over after seeing my state. Powder gently lifts my head to lay it on her lap instead of the cold floor and brushes some hair from my face. I can't help but let tears fall now and cry. I turn myself into her and she holds me close; not too tight because of my bruised body.

"Someone get her gun." Vi says and Ekko is quick to respond and get's it from the floor and brings it back to Powder and I. Handing it to Powder to hold onto.

"Kids! What's goin' on!?," I hear Vander's voice now, rushing towards us and I peak out from my embrace with Powder to see him, Silco and Sevika. Vander is wearing his old gauntlets. They give me concerned looks before staring down the alley at the thugs on the other end, "What happened." Vander says, sounding more like a command than a question.

"They were going to kill her. We got here right before that guy was about to cave her head in." Vi answers and I feel Powder stiffen at that. I feel her hold on me only tighten a little. Not too much to hurt me, but just to have me closer.

"Ekko." She says and no other words are exchanged. He looks over at the thugs, specifically at the one bleeding from his hand before he picks up my shovel from the floor.

He walks forward and before the guy can step back Ekko swings the shovel at him, knocking him to the ground; the others backing away from the sudden outburst.

"Wait! Wai-" he's cut off as Ekko doesn't stop. He keeps beating on the guy on the ground. No one tries to stop him. Not even Cait; who keeps her rifle aimed at the other thugs.

"Wait, he doesn't ha-" I try to protest through a strained voice, but Powder just cradles my head closer to not see what's happening.

"Shhh. It's okay. Don't worry about it. Everythings okay now." she says as I hear the guy's yells and screams and Ekko beating him senseless. I hear bones break, blood leaking and more screams.

"Stop! He's had enough!," I hear their boss say, but Ekko doesn't stop. He ignores her and keeps going. I feel one of Powder's arm loosen and peak out to see the woman go step forward to grab Ekko, "Sto-" *BANG*

I hear a familiar gunshot. Not from Cait. Powder's arm with my gun in hand is extended out towards the woman. Powder shot her. The woman drops dead and I stare in shock at her corpse, before Powder wraps her arm around me to hold me close again. Ekko continuing to beat a man to death; his screams and yells getting weaker. I hear the breaking of bones and blood being spilled. No one stops him.

"Wh- Why did you....."

"It's fine. They deserve it." she says in a certain tone that sounds too familiar. Too much like Jinx.

I'm overwhelmed by emotions. Too much happening for me to know what to do. Eventually Ekko finally stops and I can hear his labored breathes.

"We-We won't resist arrest. We'll go to Stillwater!" I hear a thug says and getting no protests from the others.

"Vander. Y'know what needs to happen right?" I hear Silco ask, "They hurt one of ours. They were going to kill her." he continues in that cold tone I know all too well.

A few seconds goes by before I hear Vander's heavy footsteps walk forward towards where I know Ekko is.

"You're done here, Ekko. Kids! Take her home."

"What!? Dad, they were going to kill her! If Cait and I di-"

"There might be others who might try something Vi. Take her home," Vander says again as Ekko walks over Powder and I, "We'll handle the rest."

"What!? We'll turn ourselves in! We won't bother he-" the voice is cut off by a loud impact.

'What are they doing!?'

"Come on, let's go home." Ekko says as he picks me up gently and I can only get a peak over his shoulder at what is happening. I see another dead body in front of Vander, there head looking like it was caved in. Powder runs a hand through my hair before gently coaxing my head to lean into Ekko.

"Don't worry about them Y/n. Get rest." she says as if there isn't a massacre about to happen.

As we leave Vander, Slico and Sevika in the alley with the rest of the thugs, I can feel my exhaustion taking over. The screams and yells being left in the distance. My eyelids grow heavy before I have no choice but to sleep. Too tired and hurt to fully process anything that is happening.

"It's okay. You're safe now. Just rest. Isha is waiting for you back home." Powder says softly before I finally drift off into sleep.

Hope you enjoyed. And hopefully 2025 is a good year for everyone. Sorry for any grammar mistakes.

[arc852]

Fault 1/3

Summary: It's been two days since the incident where Jimmy fell out of Joel's pocket and Joel is completely blaming himself for what happened. When Tango wants to hang out with Jimmy, Joel is just barely containing his anger and jealousy on top of everything else.

Warnings: self-blame, self-deprecation, anger, crying, breaking down, jealousy and arguing

Word Count: 4121

AO3 Link

Happy New Year everyone! I'm hopefully starting the year off right by posting a new fic within the bbbcau! This one takes place pretty much right after Not Just a Drunken Dream, so I hope you enjoy!

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 Joel found that it was still hard to pay attention to his classes.

 Two days ago, Jimmy had fallen from his pocket and had almost been crushed by the crowds of students going to and from class. He had then been picked up and they could only count themselves lucky that it was Tango of all people who had done so. Joel always tried not to think about what would happen if Jimmy fell into the wrong hands. But he did anyway and Jimmy had almost ended up dead or in the hands of someone who might not have treated him like a person.

 And it was all Joel’s fault.

 Joel could still remember the panic that shot through his whole body when he had stuck his hand in his pocket after sitting down in class, only to discover that Jimmy was no longer there. He had immediately left his class, pulled Grian out of his, and then had searched all over for Jimmy. Only for him to be returned to them by none other than Tango.

 Joel rested the back of his hands on his forehead and leaned against them with his elbows firmly on the table. He closed his eyes and let the professor’s voice wash over him. Though he was technically listening, he wasn’t retaining any of the words. Mind still wandering toward Jimmy.

 He had been so stupid. Why hadn’t he kept his hand in the pocket with Jimmy? He usually did, why was that time any different? He should have been more careful. Who cares if he was late to class? He should have been walking slower and paying more attention to his surroundings. Instead, he had rammed into somebody with enough force to knock Jimmy out of his pocket.

 So so stupid.

 He was vaguely aware of someone taking the seat next to him, which was weird because the class had been going on for at least a half hour now. He kept his head down though, not looking until he heard a familiar voice psst at him.

 “Psst! Joel.” The voice whispered and Joel finally looked over to see Tango sitting there. Joel blinked, having forgotten that Tango was even in this class with him.

 “Hey, do you have Jimmy with you?” Tango asked, still whispering. Though even his whispers seemed too loud to Joel. His eyes widened and he looked around to make sure no one was paying attention. No one was, of course, but Joel was extra paranoid after what had happened two days ago.

 “Shhh!” Joel shushed Tango, who looked surprised at that. “You can’t just mention him like that!” Joel whispered back to him in a bit of a harsher tone.

 “Wha- I’m being quiet!” Tango said, his whisper getting just a tiny bit louder. “I just wanted to know.”

 Joel knew he wasn’t being very fair towards Tango but currently the man was only bringing up unwanted memories. That he had already been thinking about anyway. Joel sighed. “No, he’s not. It’s probably going to be a while before he comes to class with us again.” And even longer before it would be with Joel. 

 “Oh.” Tango wilted a bit but perked back up a moment later. “Well, is it okay if I see him after class?” Tango asked with a smile and Joel just looked at him.

 Joel narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

 Tango blinked, A bit taken aback by the hostility he was feeling from Joel. “I uh…I mean, I thought we could hang out? Properly this time, ya know?” Tango said, a bit hesitant now as he rubbed the back of his neck. 

 Joel was trying very hard to hold himself back from saying no just straight up. He was still on edge after what happened two days ago and even though he knew Tango, knew him to be kind, Joel was loath to have any other humans around Jimmy right now.

 He took a deep breath, knowing that ultimately, it wasn’t his decision. It was Jimmy’s. But even still, Joel knew Jimmy was also still a bit off from two days ago. The borrower was taking it easy right now and so Joel was confident that Jimmy would turn Tango away. The thought made him feel a bit better and so he finally turned to answer Tango. “I’ll have to ask him if he’s up for that right now.” Joel said, keeping his voice low and monotone. Despite his tone though, Tango grinned and looked excited.

 “Right, right! Of course.” Tango said and then leaned back in his chair to focus back on the teacher. Joel scoffed silently to himself and rolled his eyes, placing a hand on his cheek and leaning on it. If he honestly expected Jimmy to say yes right now, after what had just happened, then Tango was a bigger idiot than he was.

 The next half hour went by incredibly slowly, all things considered, especially as all Joel could pay attention to was Tango beside him. He could feel the excitement rolling off the engineering major in waves and it was honestly annoying Joel more than he was willing to admit.

 Once class was over, Joel closed his laptop without saving and shoved it into his bag. It wasn’t like he took any notes anyway. He had little to no idea what they had just learned about for the last hour but it was fine. He could just get notes off of somebody else. His eyes wandered over to Tango at that thought but he pushed it down for now. He zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

 Tango gave him a smile as he waited for him before starting to head out of the classroom. Joel followed him out and they paused outside of the door. “Can we head back to your dorm now, or did you have another class?” Tango asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet in barely hidden eagerness. Joel was now half wishing he did but he shook his head.

 “No, we can head there now. I guess.” Joel said and started walking first. Tango was quick to follow, not at all put off by Joel’s attitude. 

 They didn’t speak much on their way over to the dorm building. Joel felt awkward for reasons he couldn’t explain. Tango was his friend after all. Even if Joel was currently giving him a bit of the cold shoulder. Joel was happy to break the silence once they actually made it to his dorm door. “I’ll go ask him but you gotta stay here. I don’t want to overwhelm or scare Jimmy by having a human that he wasn’t expecting come in.”

 “Right, right, of course.” Tango said. The patient but eager grin on his face made Joel’s blood boil.

 “Be right back.” Joel snapped and then opened the door, but only enough for him to slip through. He didn’t want Jimmy catching a glimpse at Tango from the outside after all. He looked around, realizing Grian wasn’t there, which meant he was probably still in class. Scanning the room a bit more, he saw Jimmy on his bed with what must have been Grian’s phone. He was stomach down facing the phone, although his head had turned once he heard the door open.

 “Hey Joel!” Jimmy exclaimed in greeting, sitting up from his position and turning his body to face Joel. Whatever was on the phone had been paused. “How was class?”

 Joel came closer, setting his bag on the back of his chair before going back around his bed. “It was fine.” Joel lied, not wanting to get into the fact he had barely paid attention to the class at all. Gosh he was tired. All he wanted was to lay in bed and hold Jimmy close. At least here in the room he knew for sure nothing bad could happen to Jimmy. 

 But Tango was still waiting outside, so he at least had to ask Jimmy to get this over with and make that a reality. 

 “By the way, Tango is waiting outside. He was wondering if you wanted to hang out with him. I already figured you wouldn’t be feeling up for it though so I can just go ahead and tell him-” Joel was cut off as Jimmy stood fully up on the bed.

 “Wait, Tango is here? Of course I want to hang out with him! Send him in!” Jimmy said, a grin on his face, his eyes wide with excitement. 

 Joel felt his entire body deflate as he simply looked at Jimmy. “...Are you sure? Because after what happened-”

 “I’m sure, Joel. I’m fine, I promise.” Jimmy said and Joel searched his eyes for any hint that he was lying. He wasn’t.

 “Right. Um, okay.” His voice felt thick for no good reason and he blinked more to try and keep the water from his eyes. What the hell was wrong with him? “I’ll go tell him then.” He turned almost numbly and headed toward the door, opening it to reveal that Tango was still there and waiting patiently. He gave Joel a smile though it faltered slightly when he saw his expression.

 “Tango!” Jimmy cried out from behind him and it was just loud enough for Tango to hear. His expression shifted back into the grin from before.

 “Jimmy, hey!” Tango exclaimed back, looking past Joel to be able to see Jimmy on the bed. Joel shifted a bit awkwardly and moved out of the way to let Tango come in.

 “Come on in. Jimmy, uh, said okay to hanging out. As I’m sure you figured out.” Joel said and no one seemed to notice his pained tone or expression as Tango came in and walked right over to Jimmy. Joel was quick to close the door behind Tango, not wanting someone randomly walking by and seeing Jimmy.

 He stayed a good bit away behind Tango, just standing there as he watched Tango crouch down so Jimmy didn’t have to crane his neck so much. “How have you been?” Tango asked and Joel noticed that Tango was at least keeping his hands to himself. “Joel told me you aren’t really going to class with them anymore.”

 “I’ve been good, but yeah, it might be a bit before I’m comfortable going back to class with them again.” Jimmy said with a slight laugh, his hand going behind him to rub at his neck. Joel found himself wincing at that, crossing his arms in a way to both hide and hug himself.

 He was the reason Jimmy didn’t feel safe going out with them to class anymore. This was all his fault.

 “Well, do you feel comfortable enough coming back to my dorm with me to hang out?” Tango said, which startled Joel out of his own self-blame. He all but jumped to Tango’s side, looking at him with wide eyes.

 “Wait, what?” Joel said, not trying to hide the shock in his tone.

 Jimmy, for his part, also looked surprised but not with the same kind of dread that Joel was feeling. “To your dorm?”

 “Yeah.” Tango looked a bit sheepish now. “I mean, I figured we could have some lunch. Properly hang out and get to know each other, ya know?” Tango explained before continuing a moment later. “Oh, and don’t worry about Impulse. He’s got a full day of classes ahead of him. He won’t be back for a few more hours at least.”

 Joel had to say something. “I don’t think-”

 “That does sound like fun.” Jimmy said with a smile and a certain spark in his eyes that Joel had only seen when Jimmy was really excited about something. Joel could feel his body deflate once again, the pit in his stomach growing even more.

 Jimmy then did something that Joel hadn’t been expecting, and that was turning to look at him with his head slightly tilted. “Is that okay with you, Joel?”

 Joel could feel his cheeks heat up and from his peripheral, because he refused to take his eyes off Jimmy right now, he could see Tango looking back and forth between them with a certain look on his face. Joel was suddenly reminded that Tango had been the one to remind them that Jimmy was the one who should have the ultimate decision in whatever he did. Which Joel did agree wholeheartedly with, even if it was hard to do sometimes.

 But the fact that Jimmy was asking him now, about this, felt…well, Joel wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he really wanted to say no. He wanted to pick Jimmy up and hold him close, hold him away from Tango and just be. He wanted to scream at Tango to go away, he wanted to cry angrily into his pillow, he wanted to have not messed up-

 But Tango had been the one to right his wrong, in the end. Had been the one who ended up saving and protecting Jimmy. The thing that Joel failed at. Maybe…maybe Tango deserved Jimmy’s time more than Joel did.

 So Joel turned his head away, feigning disinterest. He’s not sure how much he succeeded though. “Why are you asking me? You can do what you want.” Joel said, his tone a bit sharper than he had intended.

 Thankfully, or maybe not, Joel wasn’t really sure at this point, but no one noticed. Jimmy just blinked and then grinned as he turned back to Tango. “I guess I can.” Jimmy chuckled a bit to himself. “Yes, Tango, I would love to have lunch with you.”

 Tango grinned back. “Great!” He said excitedly. He then paused and looked a bit awkward all of a sudden. “Um, how uh, how did you want to do this then?” Tango asked and Jimmy laughed a bit.

 Joel was back to crossing his arms, maybe a bit tighter than one would normally, and he looked away from the playful awkwardness of Tango getting used to picking Jimmy up. Although, if his peripheral vision was anything to go off of, Tango didn’t exactly pick Jimmy up but held out his hand for him. Jimmy climbed on with what at least appeared to be no hesitation. Joel stopped looking through his peripheral.

 He only turned back when Tango addressed him. “Don’t worry Joel, I’ll have him back before dinner.” He said with a chuckle, playfully acting like he was taking Jimmy on a date and Joel was Jimmy’s father. At least, that’s what Tango’s line and delivery reminded Joel of.

 “You better.” Joel mumbled, trying not to stare at Tango too intensely. He was probably failing though, so he let his eyes wander down to Jimmy.

 “I’ll see you later Joel!” Jimmy said and Joel nodded, hoping Jimmy didn’t notice how fast and often he was blinking.

 “See you later.” Joel said. “Be safe.” He said a bit quieter, though did he actually know what that meant? He thought his pocket had been safe after all. He thought Jimmy had been safe with him.

 Joel could barely watch as Tango left with Jimmy, but he did. He watched as Tango held Jimmy close to his chest, cupping his free hand over in front of him in order to hide him in case there were any people wandering around the halls. Joel followed them to the door, numbly helping Tango open it, since his hands were full with Jimmy. It took him a while to actually close the door, not doing so until Tango had turned the corner far down the hall.

 The door closed with a click and it was suddenly all too quiet.

 Joel went and sat down on his bed and just…stared. His hands gripped at the fabric of his pants and he glared down at the floor.

 He didn’t exactly mean to stay like that but before he knew it, the door was opening again and Grian walked into the room. Grian paused as he noticed Joel’s position and looked at him in confusion. “Joel? Everything okay?”

 “Fine.” Joel said, his tone sharp and quick. Grian didn’t look convinced but then again, Joel wasn’t really trying to hide his feelings anymore. Grian looked around, noticing someone seemed missing.

 “Where’s Jimmy?” Grian asked and the question alone had Joel tightening his hold on the fabric of his jeans. He grit his teeth and took a deep breath. It did little to calm him though.

 “With Tango.” Joel practically spat out. Grian looked taken aback for a moment, blinking in surprise.

 “Tango?” Grian asked, ignoring, for a moment, Joel’s tone.

 Joel let out a shaky huff of breath. “Tango came up to me in class and asked if he could hang out with Jimmy. I said he’d have to ask Jimmy himself. So he came over.” Joel let his eyes fall away from Grian’s and back onto the floor. “I really thought Jimmy would say no.” Joel said a bit quieter.

 Grian raised an eyebrow at him. “You thought he would say no? Is that why you’re being like…this?” He motioned toward all of Joel and Joel lifted his head to scowl at him. Grian didn’t back down from it though, simply crossed his arms and looked at Joel with that stupid knowing look Joel hated.

 “Like what, Grian? Not sure I know what you mean?” His voice went high but his glare stayed true, daring Grian to continue.

 “Come on, you can’t admit that you’re jealous?” Grian said and that had Joel absolutely fuming. He stood up faster than even he had been expecting and got into Grian’s face. The fact that Grian appeared unaffected by this just made Joel even angrier.

 “I’m not jealous. Jimmy can do whatever the bloomin’ hell he wants! Tango probably deserves him more than me anyway!” Joel shouted, fuming. He hadn’t even realized what he actually said until he saw Grian’s knowing look drop and his eyes go wide.

 “Joel…”

 “Shut up! Shut up!” Joel yelled, backing up a step to get himself out of Grian’s face. He didn’t want to hear it.

 “Joel, it wasn’t-” Grian tried but Joel cut him off.

 “Oh, it wasn’t my fault? Is that what you were going to say? God, shut the bloody hell up, Grian. Of course it was my fault!” Joel yelled, moving one hand to pull at the hairs on his scalp before throwing both hands in the air and leaning more toward Grian. Not quite getting in his face like before, but close all the same. Joel felt a tinge of satisfaction as Grian backed up a step. “Jimmy almost died because of me! He almost got found by someone who could have taken advantage of him! The only reason he’s here is because of Tango!”

 Joel was breathing really heavy now, his eyes combating against the water trying to spill from them. He gripped at his hair again. “Of course Jimmy would choose Tango over me, of course-”

 “Joel!” Grian shouted, his hands on Joel’s shoulders as he shook him out of his spiral. Joel jolted a bit, looking at Grian with wide, manic eyes. Despite that, Grian held his gaze. “Calm down.” Grian’s words were firm but no less gentle, trying to ease his friend out of his self-hatred and panic.

 “You don’t get it. I can’t keep Jimmy safe! First he gets stuck in that glue trap under my watch and now this. I-I can’t be trusted with him! No wonder he’d rather hang out with Tango than-”

 “Joel, stop!” Grian yelled, his grip tightening on Joel’s shoulders. Joel finally paused at the almost desperate tone Grian’s voice had taken.  

 “But-”

 “Just…stop.” Grian said, cutting Joel off and not letting him speak himself into any more circles. He was still holding on tight to Joel’s shoulders. “Breathe, Joel.”

 After a few shaky breaths, Joel managed to take in a deep one. But as he let it out, his tears, which he had been holding back this whole time, finally started to fall. He grit his teeth as he couldn’t stop them from raining down his cheeks. Grian’s eyes went soft. “Oh Joel…” Grian pulled at his shoulders and suddenly he was in Grian’s space again, but this time with Grian’s arms wrapped around his body. Grian was hugging him.

 Joel hugged him back and buried his face into Grian’s shoulder. Not caring that he was probably making a complete mess of Grian’s shirt. “It wasn’t your fault Joel.”

 Joel hiccuped. “But-”

 “Nope. None of that now. It wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. A mistake. If Jimmy had been in my pocket the same thing could have happened.” Grian said, words firm and sturdy. And Joel suddenly felt too tired to argue with them. So he just sniffed.

 “And Jimmy isn’t choosing you over anybody. Especially not Tango. He’s your friend. Our friend. And no matter who he ends up hanging out with, he’ll always come back home to us.” Grian continued. Joel wasn’t sure how he could say that with such confidence. Even though it had been months at this point, Joel still worried about messing up enough where Jimmy left for good. But here Grian was, confident that Jimmy would always come back.

 It was quiet for a moment as Grian let his words sink in. When Joel didn’t make any move to speak, Grian decided to continue. “Why did you think Jimmy would say no to hanging out with Tango?” Grian asked, bringing back up what Joel had said earlier.

 Joel tensed, feeling his cheeks heat up slightly and pushed Grian away. Not roughly, but enough to let Grian know he was done with the hug. Grian offered no resistance and let Joel go and Joel took another step back for good measure, looking away.

 “I just thought…after everything that happened two days ago I figured Jimmy wouldn’t want to go anywhere for a while. Let alone talk to, and hang out with, a human he barely knows.” Joel let out a sigh, rubbing at his eyes and cheeks to get his tears cleaned up. “But instead he practically jumped at the chance and…I don’t know. It felt bad.”

 Grian hummed, listening intently. “I don’t think I was exactly wrong before. I do think there is a bit of jealousy seeping through everything else you're dealing with.” Grian stated, though this time it wasn’t said in a joking or teasing manner. Joel still didn’t like being called jealous but it was better than before. “You feeling bad is probably a mix of that jealousy and you thinking you don’t deserve Jimmy anymore. His acceptance of Tango’s request to hang out probably, subconsciously, affirmed your fears.”

 Joel sniffed again. “When did you become a bloomin’ psychology major?”

 Grian’s lips twitched up slightly. “Biology and psychology are just two sides of the same coin.” Grian said before letting his small smile ease off again. “Look, it’s not like I also really like the fact that Jimmy’s off hanging with Tango. Especially with what happened two days ago. I want to keep him close and safe as much as you do. But, he’s also his own person, and when it comes down to it I do trust him and Tango to be safe. Jimmy is just…excited to have a new friend.”

 “Right…” Joel said, though he didn’t look entirely convinced.

 Grian sighed. “Okay, obviously you aren’t going to take my world for it. You need to talk to Jimmy about this.”

 Joel tensed up again. “I can’t talk to Jimmy! He’ll…then he’ll know and…” Honestly, Joel’s brain was struggling to come up with a reason to not talk to Jimmy other than he really didn’t want to.

 “You’re not going to feel better until you talk to Jimmy.” Grian said as he patted Joel on the shoulder. “And I will lock you two in the room if you don’t.”

 Joel sighed but gave a little nod. He wasn’t looking forward to the talk but he knew Grian was right. He needed to tell Jimmy how he felt and talk about everything.

 Joel still believed it was his fault, it was hard not to when he looked back on everything he could have done better to prevent it, but he would talk to Jimmy all the same. He watched as Grian took his laptop out of his bag and sat at his desk. Joel hesitated before doing the same. At least he could try and get some homework done to distract him until Jimmy came back home.

 Joel tried to push down the dread he felt in his gut as he started to type away at his laptop.

[flooffybits]

Tell Me

Idol: Hirai Momo (Twice)

Momo has conflicting feelings that she doesn't quite understand. So someone has to knock some sense into her.

Word count: 3.2k

Warning: mean Momo, reader gets sick, Jihyo and Jeongyeon are angry

☕buy me a coffee☕

Things within the group have been a little more comforting as of late. Even with your late addition to the team, you all seemed to gradually get along with all of the girls, especially with having to deal with constant comebacks and late night practices.

Except for one person.

"Unnie, do you want to come with Mina and I?" You ask with a little bit of a hopeful look in your eyes, but the older woman didn't even bother looking your way as she shook her head, eyes trained on the device in her hands. "I'm busy, have fun though." She answered curtly and your shoulders deflated a little before you nodded in defeat, exiting the room to meet with the other Japanese woman.

Once she heard the door close, Momo finally lifted her gaze and let out a sigh, glancing at the door you just exited from. A frown crept up her lips and she had to roll her eyes before grabbing her bag and then waiting a few more minutes just so she was sure you still wouldn't be around.

Once she hears the sound of the front door closing, Momo takes that as a sign and finally moves from her spot, shoving her phone inside her pocket as she navigates herself through the kitchen.

"So, you're busy with… what, exactly?"

The short haired woman jumps in surprise, squeaking before she whirls around to look at the source of the voice that had nearly given her a heart attack before shouting. "Yah! Don't do that!" She protests while Jihyo gives her an odd look.

"You're ignoring Y/n." The leader doesn't beat around the bush when she speaks and Momo has a bit of a hard time collecting herself from the sudden accusation that wasn't entirely false.

In all honesty she doesn't have a clue on how to get out of this, and unfortunately for her Jihyo already senses it before she can even manage a sound.

"I thought we talked about this before, Momo?" Said member only sighs while leaning against the kitchen counter. "I know! But every time I see her I just… I don't know! I feel so unsettled whenever she's around and I can't help but distance myself from her." She explains, exasperation laced in her tone as she ran her fingers through her hair. "And I know that she hasn't done anything but I just can't help but remember how much we went through to get here."

"And Y/n has gone through the same. The only difference is that she was alone while we had each other." Jihyo reminds her for the umpteenth time that Momo doesn't even remember how many times she's heard that from the leader or even any of the other members. They were right no matter how she looked at it.

She could never change how things went. She could never truly blame you for being assigned here either. It wasn't your fault.

You didn't ask to be here.

Momo could always remember the hesitation you had displayed when you were first presented to the group. There was shame in your features that none of the girls could blame you for and she's honestly guilty for being so hostile since the beginning.

You weren't a bad person.

In essence, you were one of the nicer people that she's met in this industry and she would consider themselves lucky to have such nice and caring members.

That was why the guilt never went away because she wasn't nice.

Not to you at least.

"I know." Is all she can say and Jihyo doesn't quite understand what she's thinking because her expression right now is unreadable. "Sorry but I… think I need some air."

Jihyo doesn't even stop her when she exits the dorm nor does she question where she's headed. At times like these, Momo only had only one other place to head to.

"Momo unnie isn't back yet?" Tzuyu's question earns a few of the members to look over and Nayeon just shakes her head. "She's probably with Heechul oppa again."

It wasn't an abnormal occurrence, the majority of the group, if not all, knew that your senior had a crush on the dancer. But only a few of them knew that it had already exceeded that level of admiration between them. It just wasn't their secret to tell.

"They've been going out a lot." Sana comments while she fiddles with her phone. "Do you think they're actually dating now?" She can't help but ask and Chaeyoung raises a brow. "Aren't we prohibited from being in a relationship?" The younger girl can't help but question, sharing your own thoughts because you knew that there was a dating ban when it came to artists.

Jeongyeon snorts while leaning her chin against her arms. "We don't always follow the rules, plus it won't be long before that ban is lifted. I wouldn't be surprised if they're already going out together." Somehow the comment makes you uneasy.

Maybe it's the thought of your member getting into possible trouble with the higher ups. But given how your members aren't too bothered, you try to shrug the feeling off before focusing on the game that was currently on your phone with Dahyun beside you.

You don't even remember how long you've been in the living room. You only know that you refused to leave until Momo had returned home. Even when your roommates were telling you to head to bed, you just made some excuse about being comfortable where you are and wanting to finish the game.

You didn't even know when you fell asleep on the couch.

Nayeon had only sighed and shook her head at you before she grabbed a blanket and draped it over your body, patting your head as she headed for her own room.

Jihyo had noticed you when she went to grab some water, but she had stopped at some point, hiding in the corner when she noticed that Momo had finally arrived and was crouched over your sleeping figure.

Blinking in surprise, the leader quietly watched as the Japanese woman examined your face, her brows pinching together in concern when she saw the way you were sleeping before she muttered something under her breath.

Carefully adjusting your position, she made sure you were comfortable and tucked you in, too tired to carry you to your room before she quietly exited the vicinity so as to avoid being caught.

After that night, Jihyo pays a lot more attention to how Momo acts when she thinks no one else is looking.

Momo cares about your opinion more than she'd care to admit. She always has to look in your direction when she's doing something and it's only when you smile or nod does she feel like she can breathe again.

It makes absolutely no sense if you ask her.

But when you're getting compliments from everyone else, she can't help the frown that settles on her face or the way her chest constricts as though there are a pile of bricks laying there.

So she distances herself so she doesn't have to feel that and it only earns itself a frown from you because you think that the rift between the two of you is nowhere near narrowing. She's still so far away from you and it both confuses and frustrates your leader because she sees that Momo is going one way then another.

She can see the effect it has on you and while she does scold the dancer from time to time, she can't help but bite her tongue when she sees that you've opted to be the one to adjust instead.

Your leader was merely a spectator to the odd relationship you and Momo had, dancing around each other but never meeting due to fear and rejection, while the other with uncertainty. It was a difficult relationship to appreciate, and at some point, one of your roommates soon noticed this push and pull as well when she caught Momo peeking inside your room one day when you had fallen ill and failed to participate in one of the events you had scheduled.

"What's… going on?" Jeongyeon muttered curiously the next day, passing by the dancer who had subtly checked the door of your room when the short haired woman left.

"What do you mean?" The culprit was quick to reply, doing her best to seem casual while Jihyo, once again, watched from the side. "You do know that you can just come in to check on her, right?" It was becoming ridiculous at this point, really. Despite being one of the older members of the group, Jihyo was very close to scolding the dancer for the way she had noticed her acting.

Momo, on the other hand, just looked like a deer in headlights as she blinked owlishly. She isn't sure what to say. “I just wanted to be sure if she's still sick. I don't want to get sick too." That was definitely what she wanted to say.

Jeongyeon’s face scrunched up in displeasure while Jihyo scowled.

“Look, I get that you're not her biggest fan, but don't treat her like she's not a person. If you don't wanna get sick, then don't come near her.” The short haired woman scolded and Momo had to cross her arms, defensive as she retorted. "I was just saying! I didn't mean anything by it.” She tells them and Jihyo just sighs while shaking her head. "Momo, enough. Just go somewhere else."

The comment earns a scoff from the dancer, but the thing that irritates her is how she's being told to stay away from you.

"What? You're kicking me out?” She snapped angrily but Jihyo only shook her head. “I don't care where you go right now as long as it's not anywhere near Y/n."

"This isn't healthy, Momo. I hope you realize that.” Jeongyeon spits out before she turns and enters your room, shutting the door behind her and refusing to give the Japanese woman a chance to respond.

She's had enough and you needed her more at the moment rather than Momo needed to be taught a lesson. Plus Jihyo was there and judging by the look on her face, Jeongyeon could tell that the leader would be more than accepting of the role of scolding their friend.

“You guys need to stop arguing like this." All of a sudden a new voice cut through, beating the leader off before she could utter a single sound. “We're all adults here but you're acting like children." A frown is present on Nayeon's face as she looks at the two. “We're supposed to be the unnies here. But you guys are creating a bad vibe that no one can enjoy.” She sighed out and Momo scoffed. “I'm not doing anything.”

“Oh, cut it with that bullshit. We know that you don't like Y/n but at least be civil!” Nayeon scolded, taking the reign this time whilst Jihyo listened. “How can we be a group when you're acting like one person should be left out? How are you setting an example?” She went off as Momo looked away with a huff though the twinge in her chest tells that Nayeon had hit her mark. “Y/n isn’t some outsider, Momo. She’s here to stay so get that through your head.”

There’s a pregnant pause as the three of them stood in the middle of the room, Momo’s thoughts going a mile a minute as she kept stealing glances at the closed door that separated you and them.

“Why do you hate her so much?”

All eyes are on Jihyo as she stares at the dancer, a tired expression on her face. “I mean, I get that you weren’t happy about her joining outside of Sixteen, but you know just as much as I do that she had to deal with things differently from us.” Momo struggles to come up with an answer.

It was true that she had been upset by the decision. She worked hard and suffered through a reality show, fighting to be where she was now. But couldn’t the same be said for you?

Jihyo was right, you were alone throughout your training process while they had each other. They depended on each other during the survival show but who did you lean on when things were getting too much?

“I don’t hate her.” Is all she ends up saying. And judging by the look on her face, it looked like that was the only answer she was willing to give.

..

The practice room was always a paradox for the Japanese woman.

She could always relax and let the music take her away from all the mess that went on with her life, but the same room always reminded her of all the suffering she’s been through just to attain her dream of being an idol.

The never ending practices, the starvation, the crying - it all seemed to happen a lot in this room.

Even when she found solace in it, it still held the storms that she had gone through and the ones she was currently going through.

“Oh-”

The sound made her pause and Momo quickly spun around to see you standing meekly by the door, a timid look on your face as you looked anywhere but her. “I… didn’t think anyone was here already.” You say awkwardly, hand still on the knob.

“I’ll just-”

As you moved to exit the room, Momo wasn’t sure what tugged at her chest, but she was stepping forward without realizing. “It’s okay. You can stay.”

That made you blink and your eyes snap to her face to see if she was kidding. But this was Momo. She didn’t joke, not with you at least. So when you see that she actually means for you to stay, you slowly step away from the door and head over to one of your usual spots in the room.

All the while, Momo’s eyes follow your every move, contemplating on what she could possibly say.

Even when she’s been an utter bitch towards you, Momo realized that you neve retaliated or treated her with any ill will. It was always the other members that did that for you without you knowing and she knows that she deserves it for how she treats you.

You’ve only been understanding of her situation, greeting her with a smile even when she shrugs you off, offering her things you know she likes, but she would always turn you down just because it was you.

God, she felt horrible.

Why did you have to be so nice to her?

“Y/n.”

The call of your name had you looking up during your stretch and you fidget a little when Momo waves you over.

Were you asleep right now?

Momo was calling for you?

That didn’t seem right.

Nevertheless, you stood and approached the older woman and she internally sighs when she sees the shy look across your face. You were cute, she had to admit.

The thought made her pause.

No, no, no. That was not what she needed right now.

But as you stood awkwardly in front of her, the older woman could see the way your eyes looked up at her, kind and shy, she had to bite her tongue before exhaling loudly and then awkwardly putting a hand on your shoulder.

She frowns when you flinch a little at the contact, but the look you give her is reassuring that it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

You were honestly surprised by the softness in her tone, lacking its usual edge whenever she was talking to you, but the look in her eyes manages to make your breath hitch. 

“... I wanted to apologize.”

You keep quiet as she tries to find the right words to say. “I haven’t been fair to you, but I just wanted to let you know that I don’t… I don’t hate you.” She mumbles softly, her hand moving from your shoulder, down to your forearm, until she’s eventually taking your hand in her own, albeit hesitantly, almost as though she were afraid you would pull away.

“I know that I have a lot to make up for, but I hope you know that I’m really sorry.” She sucks in a deep breath. “I was confused and frustrated, and Jihyo was right, I shouldn’t have been taking it all out on you because you didn’t ask for any of this. I was just a bit bitter.”

You raise a brow, the corners of your mouth twitching a little. “A bit?” You can’t help the teasing lilt in your tone and Momo huffs. “Shut up, I’m trying to apologize.” And you do so with a smile on your face this time, and Momo can’t help but find that she likes your smile better.

“You somehow make my skin crawl and I get this weird feeling whenever I see you. But at the same time, I don’t like it when you’re upset or sick.” She remembers Jeongyeon getting mad at her again and she knows she has to apologize to her, too. “I hate not being able to talk to you because there’s so much going on with me that I can’t sort out.”

Your eyes widen a little and you know there’s heat crawling up your cheeks at that point because… god, this sounded like some sort of confession in some way. But you keep your mouth shut because you barely knew Momo enough to assume whether you were right or not.

Especially not when she acted like she didn’t like you.

“Unnie.” You began quietly and she’s squeezing your hand like a lifeline. “Is there… a chance that you were… jealous of the others being able to talk to me when you couldn’t?” You bite your lip when her brows furrow, but she nods either way. “And when Sana unnie or Nayeon unnie are hogging me to themselves?” She huffs at that and rolls her eyes. “It’s annoying, really.” You snort a little in amusement before you finally try one last thing.

“Can I hug you?”

Momo’s brain seemed to short circuit at your request, but when she doesn’t say anything, you’re afraid you may have overstepped.

Just as you were about to pull away from her, she tightens her hold on your hand before tugging you closer, making you tumble into her arms before she’s holding your head close to her chest.

Her warmth wraps around you like a blanket and you could hear the way her heart pounded against her chest even when her fingers ran through your hair.

“If this is how hugging you feels like… you can hug me as much as you want.”

Honestly, that and the way her heart sped up a little more only made the stupid grin on your face widen.

She wasn’t too sure what she was feeling right now. But maybe after a bit more of time, she could finally come to terms with herself and tell you how she really felt.

[wandixx]

GIW made a lot of mistakes and the biggest one was going against Young Justice part 2

part one is here

@whimsicalchaosgarden you asked to be tagged, sorry it took so long

Trigger warnings: mentions of experimentation and dehumanization (tell me if there is more appropriate way of phrasing it)

“So,” Robin started, taking the voice recorder out of his utility belt. “It'll probably be best if we get an explanation while making an accident report. This way we get it all over sooner”

Everyone agreed with this idea, standing in the loose circle in the debriefing area to make it all feel more serious. They had limited time before the next batch of cookies needed to be taken out of the oven and there was no way they all wouldn't devolve into chaos when it happened. M’gann knew from experience. 

To make sure they wouldn't take too long and cookies wouldn't turn on the fire alarm (again) both she and Danny set a timer.

In the meantime they had to learn who actually attacked them earlier.

“Phantom do the honors”

Danny froze for a moment, looking like deer caught in the headlight before he asked in a bit squeaky voice:

“How do I make an accident report?”

“Just say what happened but make it sound fancy,” Artemis explained. 

“Make a mission report and we'll fix it along the way,” Kaldur proposed.

“Answer ‘When? Where? Who was involved? What happened? What have you done about it?’ without excessive use of puns to avoid Bat-lecture” Robin helped, already in handstand.

“Bat-lecture? Really Rob?”

“So it's like lab report lite” Danny said before Robin did anything more than squawk indignantly “Alright, I can do it. Do you have any set phrase to start? And which accident report is it, in the database?"

“44th… How about ‘[Hero name], report’? Sounds serious enough.”

Everyone agreed, so after a moment of silence Kaldur did the honors.

“Phantom, report”

Danny straightened, rolling his shoulders back and locked his eyes in the middle distance. It was a bit eerie how fast he went from relaxed and goofy to almost emotionless statue. M’gann wished to never encounter it again, thank you very much.

“Incident report no. 45 made by Young Justice member Phantom, regarding an attack from earlier today, 26th April 20XX. The Young Justice Team, later referred to as the Team, went on a trip to an amusement park staying currently in the city of Happy Harbour. It was an activity meant to strengthen interpersonal relationships within the Team, previously green-lit by Red Tornado. Every member was in civilian attire as per protocol. Around 3:15 PM, after two and a half hours, the Team were disturbed by a group of ten armed people, recognized by member Phantom as belonging to Ghost Investigation Ward, colloquially known as GIW or Guys In White because of their uniforms. Later in the report the organization will be referred to as the GIW. Two shots were fired by the assailants, targeting but not reaching member Phantom. Members of the GIW were hostile but with use of humor and threat of legal actions, the Team managed to diffuse the situation before it endangered passerbys. Despite direct attack, none of the Team members’ identities were compromised. Assailants left the confrontation with belief that Phantom left his ectoplasmic signature on an unrelated civilian. Agents refused to admit they were working for the GIW since its operations break a couple of laws of the state Rhode Island. Because of that, their appearance was reported to local law enforcement and taken care of. No injuries or damage to the city infrastructure were sustained other than two burns in the asphalt in the place of confrontation. Required follow-up with local law enforcement in civilian attire as victims of assault. End of report” Danny sighed, easing back into a more natural position. “This good?” he asked, with a sheepish smile.

“Perfect”

“How are you so good at reporting? You didn’t even know what to do a second ago? That’s just unfair”

“I used to write my parent’s lab reports. It’s pretty similar in form”

“Lab-”

“Follow-up to the report only, Kid-Flash,” Robin interrupted “Phantom. elaborate on who were the assailants”

Danny stepped back from himself again.

“GIW is a ghost hunting organization supported and accredited by the state government in Illinois, legally operating also in states Wisconsin and Ohio. Their goal is to catch and examine ecto-entities to learn more about their biology and ways to obliterate them. Obviously their plans for experimentation don’t include consideration of ghosts’ well-being”

“Damn, that’s messed up”

“They wouldn't catch a blob ghost if they tried,” Danny shrugged, though something was wrong with the gesture. She wasn't sure though, so she moved on.

“Then why were you scared?” M’gann pressed on instead.

“My parents… are, you know, prominent ghost hunters so when GIW opened we all got a tour around the whole building. The lab was… it made me imagine things I wished I had never thought about”

“They have labs? Like evil labs?” Robin perked up like a kid who just heard that Christmas came early. “How could you hide it from us?!” he added, falling to hang on Danny's shoulder. He twirled a bit to catch the left one even though before he stood on halfa’s right side. Dramatic as always “Conner, we have a birthday gift for you!”

“What does GIW’s lab have to do with my birthday?”

“The potential!” Robin yelled, straightening for a better effect.

Everyone started laughing. Well, everyone other than Conner who just looked at them confused.

“He probably wants to storm another lab, bring up nostalgia of our first meeting,” Kaldur calmed down just enough to explain.

“Tell me you wouldn't like to punch an evil scientist,” Wally added, almost dropping to the floor. 

“This does sound nice”

“And THIS is exactly the reason why I haven't told you all. Thanks for spoiling my surprise Rob,” Danny lied, though he did his best to sound truthful. He even projected some false mirth.

It would take much more to trick M’gann though. She abruptly stopped laughing.

“You're lying. Why actually haven't you told us?” she demanded maybe a little too harshly, but she was worried. Everyone froze for a moment, before turning to look at Danny.

“They're all bark no bite, and aim worse than Stormtroopers’, so I haven't considered them important enough to report”

Other's didn’t know, of course, but M’gann knew just how terrified Danny was during the confrontation and how echoes of that fear soured air around him even hours later.

Everyone did realize this explanation was a tone of bullshit though. 

Apparently incredulous stares were enough of the response.

“You and the Justice League have more important things to deal with than some shitty local laws”

“Bullshit again,” Artemis burst her lips “This is exactly what Justice League is for”

“I already found people to help me lobby against them”

“And why aren't we on the list?” 

Danny fell silent, not looking anyone in the eyes, which was quite a feat considering they had him in a half circle. M’gann considered moving to his side to show her support. Stare down like that had to be quite stressful.

Why not actually. She stepped closer, and drew him in the loose side hug. Danny tensed, which wasn't abnormal for him. He usually relaxed in about thirty seconds, if he didn't, she'd let go.

“I didn't expect them to breach the containment…”

“Each of these lies is worse, you know? Like, insulting our intelligence level of worse,” Artemis interrupted once more, pinning him with her eyes alone “Give us truth or stop talking”

Danny raised his head to look back at Artemis and mimed zipping his mouth shut and throwing the key away. 

“Really?”

Boy just shrugged, not breaking eye contact.

“Alright, let's move on to the next question, how did it get approved in the first place?” Wally interrupted, waving his hand between them. They both shook off like dogs fresh out of water.

“Couldn't you wait five more seconds until I won?” 

“Ha! You wish Artemis. Though you could give us a moment”

“I gave you literal ages”

Danny snorted “Sorry, I keep forgetting how impatient you are”

“Oh shut up, my brain is just faster than yours, you slowpokes”

“Sure, sure”

“He made a good point,” Kaldur said “This shouldn’t even pass. And even if, you’re legally a Meta”

“Normal ghosts aren’t and halfas being a thing is not exactly common knowledge among the living”

“I’ll never get used to this distinction”

“I believe in you, Rob”

“What about ‘Extraterrestrial, extradimensional and otherwise previously unincluded’ Optional Protocol to the ‘International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights’?”

“Oh my god Conner, you’re the only person to say the whole name ever”

“Hey!”

“It all comes down to the definition of the ghost and the fact that Alien addition uses sentience and sapience as a ground to give anyone said rights. And also, US signed it but didn’t ratify it so…”

“Isn’t it same thing?”

“Nope. I thought so too, but apparently signing anything means nothing unless it’s also ratified, so I’m kinda fucked. Can’t even get the UN to frown at them disapprovingly, because officially, nothing was agreed to. And you know, even if they ratified it, ecto-scientists conducted enough research to prove we aren’t sapient enough to have these rights anyway. Just most of the states didn’t need to make a law out of it”

“That’s rough buddy”

“Are you really quoting Avatar at me right now? Really Artemis?”

“Yes”

“Wasn’t Avatar this movie with blue people? I don’t think they said that there”

M’gann wasn’t quite sure why human members seemed to be appalled by the question.

“We’re going to fix that later-”

“What exactly is there to be fixed, because I feel like we’re talking about to different things”

“- but for now can we go back to the whole ‘ghosts have no rights in Illinois’ thing” Robin continued, completely ignoring Conner’s questions.

“Illinois, Wisconsin and Ohio. There are portals to the Zone in two of these states. GIW already tried to send nuke through one of them”

“How Americana of them,” Kaldur muttered.

“If you have another insane tidbit about them, please share it all now. My mind can’t utilize any more revelations like that”

“I handled it, don’t worry”

“Someone tried to nuke literal Afterlife…”

“Yup, get on the schedule Kid Flash. You’re supposed to be fast”

M’gann knocked her arm into his, kinda as a ‘don’t be mean’ message. Danny kinda tensed, but soon relaxed back and moved his head as if he wanted to lay it on her shoulder. Excitement of the day was clearly catching up to him.

M’gann wouldn’t be mad if he did laid his head there.

“Why do we learn about it just now?”

“I wrote the report, not my fault you haven’t read it”

“Can’t fault us for assuming we’d know every important thing from your endless bitching!”

Danny straightened and laughed, in this horrible humorless way that made M’gann want to claw at her brain until she couldn’t hear or sense any of it.

Instead, she brought her other hand up and just held him tighter.

Thankfully the whole spectacle didn’t last long.

“It’s cute that you think I bitch about anything important”

“Phantom…”

“Don’t Phantom me right now. Even if by some miracle they managed to send the missile to the Zone, it most likely wouldn’t have worked. They’re mostly just a joke.”

“They managed to shot you. Right upper arm or shoulder”

“Don’t deny it, we’ve seen you wince when I leaned on you and when M’gann hugged you”

Martian tried to let go hearing that, but Danny held her in place. She stayed where she was but carefully moved her hand away from the slightly damp area on his shirt. She suddenly caught on everything that was wrong with him, now that she knew to look for it.

“I got worse from the hand of my house’s security system”

“You… understand that it’s… like… way worse, right?”

“You don’t know life until you hear threats of dissection against your alter ego after stopping death ray with bowl of cereal,” he said, relaxing more into her side again. He sounded absolutely exhausted.

“Do you want to move in here? Until we deal with this whole GIW and assorted mess?” she said instead. Conner nodded, surprisingly eager to share the space that he considered somewhat sacred.

“Nope, I’m good, I’m needed there”

“You could Zeta- yeah, no, nevermind, it wasn’t good idea. But we could make it work”

“You still should-”

“It’s fine. I mean, I have it handled and it doesn’t affect that many people. And we’re working on it. It’s fine”

“It really is not,” Conner growled.

“You need your arm patched up” M’gann demanded, ignoring previous conversation, with eyes still fixed on the blood that stained her forearm. She should’ve destroyed at least Operative K.

“I bandaged it up”

“It soaked through then. Let’s go to med–”

Loud shrill interrupted her, because of course it did.

“Oh, look, convenient distraction! Let’s take the cookies out before they get burned!”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” M’gann stated in a way that allowed no argument “You’re getting away for now only because I’m holding most of your weight right now”

“Sure we will. And I can stand on my own, thank you very much”

“I’ve heard many lies today and this might be the worst of them. We’re going to Medbay as soon as the cookies are out”

“You’ve got it boss”