#but an acknowledgment that this group used to have seven people would be nice!

[placegrenette]

[brackishkittie]

୨୧- CHAPTER SEVEN, hit different! - ୨୧

summary: you and ellie secretly decide to meet up and talk to eachother, but you both forget turn off your life360 locations and get caught by both of your friends.

c/n: strong language, angst, ellie’s ex randomly coming in and jealous!reader..

a/n: just chaotic…CHAOS EVERYWHERE. also I left y'all on a cliffhanger BUT TRUST THINGS R JUST GETTIN STARTED.

series masterlist! - chapter seven ➝ chapter eight!

as you both turn around, you two see nari, ashlesha, dina, and jesse right behind you both with the most judgmental and disappointed faces ever. “hey guys!…this is just like..sooo silly how we’re all just here right now!!!!….” you laugh awkwardly and glance at ellie, waiting for her to say something, “it was her idea.” she blurts out and points at you as you turn your head slowly, squint, and cross your arms. “oh I’m sorry..I didn’t know we were THROWING PEOPLE UNDER THE BUS NOW.” you yell a little too loud and a target employee looks at you and the group. “ok but like why didn’t we get a damn invite..I feel extremely excluded and I’m hurt.” jesse joked while putting his hand on his heart and frowning, “maybe because this was supposed to be only me and ellie..but maybe all of us hanging out won’t be so bad!” you say as you roll your eyes playfully, “hey I hope this doesn’t sound weird but your skin is so clear, how do you get it like that oh my god?” dina asks nari whose eyes light up like stars and shining diamonds after receiving a compliment from her.

they both immediately start giggling like school girls and talking about skincare while jesse just stands there watching them. he turns to you and ellie, now frowning more than before, “she just stole my girlfriend away from me..just like that.” he fake cries and you look at ashlesha, who’s feeling the softness of the carpets in the aisle. “sheesh..talk about chaotic…” ellie huffs as she puts her hands on her hips, “tell me about it..” another unfamiliar voice chimes in what seemed like from out of nowhere which everyone stopped talking and doing whatever they were doing a millisecond ago and turn to look at who just spoke. ellie recognized the voice though, it was someone she was very close to..her ex. “zhavia?”ellie turns to her, almost in awe, “wow ok this is extremely bad timing..and awkward..” jesse says as he scratches his head. “hey! I hope this isn’t like super bad timing since you know..you’re here with your friends and all…” she acknowledges, sheepishly waving at everyone while everyone just stands there.

“uhm ok so anyway guys..I think we should go get something to eat!” nari says signaling with her eyes at you and ashlesha for you guys to go, “yeah..I think I’ll come with you guys, I’m pretty hungry myself.” jesse adds while eyeing zhavia down and then turning to you, “y/n are you coming?” he clears his throat and you nod. “yeah uh, I think some food would be nice..” you respond, now walking away from ellie and her ex but she and her were too caught up with speaking to eachother that she didn’t even bother to say bye. ashlesha followed close behind you and you clearly looked upset she basically just ditched you and now your friends for someone else and out of all people her other ex. you’ve heard of zhavia before while you were together with ellie but have never seen her but boy she was gorgeous, like model gorgeous. “she’s a complete idiot..I’m really sorry about her y/n, but man that was awkward..having two of your exes in the same place at the same time? god, I would rather die.” jesse rambles while you were just upset, you were jealous and you didn’t know why. you weren’t dating anymore but who did zhavia think she was just coming out of nowhere and- “y/n? are you ok?” nari waves her hand infront of your face, snapping you back into reality. “yeah I’m fine.” you say quickly.

“are you sure you look a little-” nari goes to speak again but gets cut off short by you speaking again, “I’m fine nari let’s just go get something to eat.” you walk ahead of the group and they all follow behind you. “your friend is really something else, she seriously needs to know what she wants.” ashlesha spoke, she was looking down and deeply sighed. “we know but ellie is her own person, we honestly just hope she doesn’t start missing zhavia and y/n now..or just zhavia in general.” dina responded in disappointment. “y/n wait, where are you going? panda express is this way.” jesse yells out and you stop in your tracks. “I’m going home, I’m not really in the mood anymore. I’ll just eat at home. bye guys.” you say and leave the mall, your face hot and your teeth clenched. “fuck man..here, you guys should take our numbers and we’ll make a groupchat later so we can talk about this later.” dina suggests and ashlesha and nari nod their heads in agreement, the four exchange numbers and decide to still get something to eat and get to know eachother more.

tags: @elsmissingfingers @astrcmoni @cowgirlcherrie @theganymedes @ximtiredx @ellieswifee @liabadoobee @loversquarr3l @ellieslegalwife @thecowardwrites @qvrcll @mqddieas @ariianelle 🩷🩷

[artsybug0]

What are some facts about Millie? (Can also be for any AU!)

❤️Fun Facts About Millie!❤️

Original:

She’s afraid of the dark so she uses a nigh-light when she sleeps

She likes foods with strawberries in them more then just eating strawberries

Her entire home is lovecore decorated

She has three adopted parents who are in a poly relationship

She has seven adopted brothers

She’s the oldest sibling but third to be adopted

Millie can do many tricks on her roller skates. She even puts on a show for her neighbors with Barnaby

She caught feelings for Wally first

She compliments people a lot about how they look like characters from books she’s read

She gushes often about romance stories

You can often find her sitting on Howdys counter reading out loud to him as he works

She stims a lot (she’s just a happy gal!)

She word stims Wally’s name often

She’s afraid of fire (like big fires)

Actor:

She moved to the big city to go to a good college to become an author.

She graduated with a BA (Bachelors of Arts)

She’s worked a lot of jobs and has been almost all over Hollywood for work, but as you can imagine for a puppet. That didn’t get her anywhere

She gained her kinda violent tendencies while living alone in Hollywood (learned behavior for her own survival)

She became extremely depressed and had thoughts (and one attempt) at 💀 herself

She was literally dragged into the studio to be a replacement Actor for Welcome Home Puppet Show by Janet

She knew how to act because at that time she’s been pretending to be a “damsel in distress” to manipulate men into using their money on her so she can have a comfortable life for years.

She’s a big fan of Eddie’s

Millie only worked so hard to be Wally’s friend so she can hopefully get him to meet up with her youngest brothers who she used to watch WH with all the time

Millie originally planned to use Wally’s feelings to manipulate him into giving her everything she wants, but she caught the feelings before she could do anything (Wally was rude and cold towards her at the beginning so she saw this as revenge)

She at first declined Wally’s gifts for her because she was nervous she was accidentally manipulating him to think that’s what he wants to do (she wasn’t, he just loves spoiling her)

She has a list of “reasons why I love Wally” on her phone that she occasionally adds to

Egg was a gift from Wally, he’s their baby

Millie was engaged to a human once

Gothic/Punk

Doesn’t have a friend group

She roller derby’s

Everytime you see her she has a new bruise or scratch

She often gets into fights

She thrives in annoying people

Refuses to acknowledge that she has valid feelings

Her wings flap when she’s angy

She didn’t get as much as a height boost as the rest so she’s pretty small compared to everyone 😂

She teases a lot

She hates being teased though

She’s used to being described as hot or sexy but as soon as someone calls her cute she’s embarrassed and red faced

She’s actually pretty lonely, and despite how she acts, she really does care about what people say or do to her.

She’s very attached to her partners Susanna( @yami-xd character) and Wally. But mostly Susanna because she doesn’t call her mean names and is pretty nice to her

Is the most likely Millie to have 🔞 with you (if you’re around her age, 23-27)(she’s a ho)

Rainbow Factory

She’s by far, the loneliest Millie

Her parents death were later in life so she would of been at least 13 when it happened

She was never adopted

Her scars were caused by a chemical explosion she was too close to

Only Wally visited her in the hospital (that’s how she developed strong feelings for him)

She soon changed job titles and became his assistant

Even though she’s his assistant she does a LOT more then what is required of her. But she doesn’t mind.

She mixes coffee and energy drinks in a cup and chugs it down at once before working

She had extremely jealously over those who have things she doesn’t (friends, family, beauty)

She really despises Julie in this Au but doesn’t do anything about it. She only hates her because she’s Wally’s ex

She has a soft spot of kids, they remind her of herself before everything happened so she wants to protect them

She’s made fun of for her scars so often she doesn’t believe anyone if they compliment her for being “pretty”

She keeps trying to ask Wally out but backs out last second

She passes out often from overworking herself and starving her body

All the other Au’s I don’t have much put together to make fun facts about them yet so this is all I can give for now!

❤️

[tiredflowercrown]

💩 King Beast: If you could make any one thing happen in canon without consequence, what would it be?

🤩 King Charming: Who or what first caught your eye in/about Descendants? What got you hooked?

🍎 Snow White: If you could ask any character for a five minute interview, who would it be and why?

🥸 Mr. Deley: You have evidence to expose the crimes of a so-called hero. Who’s going down and why?

🤡 Seven Dwarves: You can pick any seven characters to be your roommates. Who are they and why?

💋 Evil Queen: If you had to marry one of the classic Disney villains, who would it be and why?

⚓ Captain Hook: What’s your pirate name? How about the name of that dinghy you call a ship?

This got entire too lengthy, and took far too long sooo cut

💩: if you could make any one thing happen in canon without consequence, what would it be?

Hmmmm. I wanna make it count. Fuck, I can't deny my gut instinct. Anthony. Make him exist and be acknowledged by Dizzy or Chad or Chole. Make him appear, not in an off shoot where we assume it's him, but like give him a little scene. Like maybe a Doug level character, a relationship to a main character but not relevant to the main plot in anyway. (I know it's silly and doesn't matter but that was the instinct)

Oooh or actually show the abuse and don't sweep it under the rug. Quit being a coward disney.

🤩: who or what first caught your eye in/about descendants? What go u hooked?

Traditionally, before I was fandom? The Music. I actually used to listen to songs when I was daydreaming/stimming. I know and can name drop It's good to be bad, but that is far from the only example.

Fandom? I've said this before, but Anthony. He's just so compelling to me. The fandom dive actually went Anthony Tremaine, Claudine Frollo, then Harriet Hook. He is Blorbo more than anyone else to me.

🍎: if you could ask any character for a five minute interview, who would it be and why?

This is such a hard question because I know interviews and have conducted them before. 5 minutes isn't a lot of time and the questions i want to ask need more time. Hmmmmmmmm, Ben.

I would ask about his plans to better Auradon, about how he plans to inact said ideas, maybe about why he chose the Isle. He's a politician he should be able to answer those quickly.

🥸: you have the evidence to expose a so-called hero. Who's going down and why?

Beast. Idk who of my mutuals wouldn't answer Beast. Why? Crimes against humanity, unjust imprisonment, genocide, rights violations (in Auradon), union busting, etc.

🤡: you can pick any 7 characters to be your roommates. Who are they and why?

So many difficult questions. It's not just oh who do I want around me, but also who wouldn't kill each other living together. Ugh, who have the most compatible personalities.

Carlos. He's fairly easy-going and keeps to himself. He also would clean up after himself, so it wouldn't be a horrible mess. (At least not one of his doing.)

Jane. Couples are tricky, but I don't think they would fall into the typical traps of too much pda or sex. Maybe arguments would be an issue but any group of people would have that threat.

Doug. Evie isn't gonna be here and I feel like he would spend a lot of time at her place so he's a negligible factor. Also if he was around he would be pretty chill.

Hear me out, Gil. Anything he would bring home wouldn't be "bad" enough to like horribly disrupt the house and vibe. He's also nice and is easy-going.

Uggg this is so hard. I'm going canon (or like canon to the point where they existed in canon at some point), and vks are hard because of VK tendencies for not working well in big groups. I don't wanna room with kids (or like under 16s). Lonnie??? Her sports equipment would take up a lot of space but I don't think she would actively use it inside???

Screw it I'm going with relative unknowns, Yzla and Reza. The canon versions. So Reza is an unsufferable know it all and Yzla doesn't really have a personality. I can deal with that. Sure why not.

💋: if you had to marry one of the classic Disney villians, who would it be and why?

When they say classic I'm assuming pre Renaissance. So Evil Queen, Chernabog (though I don't think they mean him cause he isn't "well kniwn"), Captain Hook, Cruella de Vil, Queen of Hearts, Madam Mim (see Chernabog reasoning), Lady Tremaine, and Maleficent.

Lady Tremaine. She wouldn't kill or abuse me??? She's just mean and like abusive and neglectful to her kids but I feel like she like her spouse?? None of them are good options. But she isn't insane so I'll take it.

⚓️: what's your pirate name? How about that dinghy you call a ship?

Salty Sal. It's got alliteration and and like sea themes. Ship is Wilted Flower. It has a bit of historical justice (I think. I'm not looking up what I think to check.)

[alexie-writes]

Extra Ordinary Chapter 7

A/N: Hey y'all! Sorry I missed last week, it was the first week of classes. To make up for it, here's an extra long chapter! Also, if anyone wants me to make a taglist, please let me know.

Series Masterlist Prev Next

Chapter Seven: Basketball Parties and Club Meetings

After the three made their way down to the floor where the cheerleaders were still milling about, Taylor turned to them and smiled, “Ready to go?”

“Totally!” Essie said, as both of the boys nodded.

“Angel’s dad is going to give us a ride to Maddie’s.” Taylor said, motioning to an Asian girl with her hair pulled into two braids, who waved at them.

“Us too?” Ostin asked, motioning to himself and Essie.

“Of course.”

The group walked out to the parking lot, Ostin all the while staring at Angel.

“What?” she asked, confused as to what had warranted his undivided attention.

“Ostin,” he said, putting out his hand for her to shake.

“I’m Angel.” she said, hesitantly shaking his hand.

“Are you Chinese or Japanese?”

Essie nearly choked. “You can’t just ask people those things,” she whispered to no one, mortified.

“Chinese,” Angel answered, her brow furrowed.

“Were you born in China?” Ostin asked her.

“Yes?”

“What brought your parents to America?”

“My parents are American, I’m adopted.”

“Oh, you’re adopted.”

Essie wanted to sink into the ground.

“Sorry, Angel, Osting doesn’t get out much.” Michael said, trying to keep him from continuing this line of questioning.

“Hardly ever,” Ostin said, not understanding the ‘out’ in the sentence.

Angel shook her head, “It’s okay.”

“And I think you’re the prettiest girl in the world,” he blurted.

“Enough,” Michael said, hoping to end this all before they ended up finding their own way to Maddie’s.

Angel smiled.

The five of them got into Angel’s dad’s car, a BMW with leather seats that reminded Essie of football. Essie could tell Michael thought the car was awesome, she’d seen him looking at some of the other luxury cars that some parents in Meridian drove.

They arrived at Maddie’s house, a mansion big enough to fit their entire apartment complex in. It also had enough room for the Olympic sized swimming pool, which was also in the mansion. Essie was looking at it in awe. Rich people like this would definitely have good snacks, and she hoped that they had pastries, she had a sweet tooth.

As they exited the car, Essie murmured a quick, “Thanks,” to Angel’s dad, as did Michael.

He smiled. “It’s nice to see that not everyone’s lost their manners. You’re welcome.”

As they walked up, Essie heard Taylor teasing Michael about being such a gentleman. Michael’s vocal tics started to get louder, and Taylor asked if he was okay. He answered that he was just nervous, to which she told him they were just there to have fun.

Taylor opened the door, and Essie heard music blasting through the house. There were groups of kids walking around, some with plates of food, which Essie was eyeing, trying to figure out what the options were.

“Hey, Tay!” Maddie shouted over the music as she ran over, and hugged Taylor.

Spencer looked over at them, “Hi, Taylor.”

“You were awesome tonight, Spence!” Taylor said, pulling back from the hug.

“Yeah, you were awesome.” Michael said in agreement.

Essie nodded, still a bit too awkward to say anything unless someone talked to her first.

“Thanks, little dude,” Spencer said, smiling at Michael. He nodded to acknowledge Essie.

Maddie looked over at Michael, cocking her head to the side. “What’s your name again? Trent? Trett?”

Michael and Essie both realized at the same time that she was thinking Tourette’s.

“No. It’s Michael.” he said, smiling shyly.

“Michael. I wonder why I thought it was Trett.” she turned to Essie, “and then it’s Essie and… have we met?” she asked Ostin.

“I’m Ostin,” he said, grinning at her.

“Oh, right.” she said, clapping her hands once.

“You have a nice house,” Michael said, drawing her attention back.

“Yeah, the pool looks awesome!” Essie gushed, wishing she had a swimsuit she could’ve brought.

“Thanks,” Maddie said, grinning at the two, “Well, have fun!” she said, patting Michael’s arm as she turned, waving at Taylor as she flitted away.

They walked into the house maybe another 20 feet, when Ostin spotted the food tables. “Hey, hold the phone, I’ll be right back.” he said, making a b-line to the other room.

Essie’s reaction was a much simpler, “Food!” as she began to speed-walk after him. She vaguely heard Taylor ask Michael, “Hold whose phone?” as she got to the tables.

The food tables were in the swankiest dining room Essie had ever seen outside of the movies. There were porcelain statues built into spaces in the walls, lit from above and below. Between each of the statues, there was an oil painting. Most of which were still lives of fruit bowls, and a handful of garden landscapes. All of the art looked original, the brushstrokes noticeable on the canvas.

Essie took it all in for maybe a minute, before she turned back to the tables, inhaling the scent of puff pastries and fruit jams. She got a plate and filled it to the brim with eclairs, macaroons, Berliners, and miguelitos. She also got another Sprite from the cooler at the center of the table to drink. As she turned, taking a bite out of a blueberry jam filled Berliner, she noticed Drew walking over to Michael, who was standing near the entrance to the room.

“Hey, it’s little Chuck Norris. Give me some,” he said, raising his hand.

“Hey, Drew,” Michael said, high-fiving him as they devolved into a joking small talk about the game. Ostin joined them, after a minute.

As Essie was finishing up her second dessert, a chocolate eclair, another person walked over to the conversation, taking Drew into a joking chokehold, then releasing him. “Drew-meister, what gives?” he asked.

Essie recognized him as Corky. He was a heavyweight wrestling champ, a couple of grades above them. He was always getting awards at pep rallies.

“Just hanging out with my little black-belt friend.” Drew said, laughing.

Corky gave Michael a once over. Michael was noticeably shorter than the majority of the boys in their class, let alone their school. “This isn’t the guy you were talking about.”

“He’s the man, Little Chuck Norris.” Drew said, preening.

“He’s a shrimp!” Corky responded.

“Only on the outside. On the inside he’s a powder keg of pain, just waiting to explode on someone.” Drew said, and Essie had to swallow her laughter.

Corky, however, did not, laughing boisterously through the room, “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you? I could crush him like a bug.”

“I’d like to see that. Battle of the titans.” Drew said.

Corky pointed a massive finger at Michael. “You’re talking about the little guy?”

Drew put his arm around Michael’s shoulder. “This is exactly who I’m talking about.”

Corky shook his head. “C’mon, little guy,” he turned, motioning for Michael to follow him. “Let’s go outside and spar a little. I want to see what you’ve got.”

Essie choked on her food. She really hoped that Michael had a plan here, otherwise he was going to get crushed.

Drew, not noticing the slowly rising panic on Michael’s face, laughed, “He’ll mess you up, dude. I’m not kidding.”

“I’ve got to see this,” said a dark haired girl a couple of grades above Essie. There were murmurs of agreement from the other people who’d gathered around the conversation.

Essie distantly heard Michael say something about how he needed to get Taylor a drink, as she walked up.

“Hi, guys. Hi, Cork. What’s going on?” Taylor asked, taking in the group that had gathered.

“Corky wants to engage the little dude in hand-to-hand, called him out.” Drew said.

Taylor looked around, confused.

“He heard about Michael’s fight with Jack and he wants to see what Michael can do.” Ostin translated.

“Black belt or not, I’m going to crush him,” Corky said.

Taylor looked at Michael, with a ‘how-did-you-manage-to-get-yourself-into-this’ look, then turned around, and shouted to the open room, “Everyone, outside! Michael’s going to take down Corky!”

Oh fuck. This was not going to end well. Essie followed the crush of kids out into the courtyard.

Ostin grabbed Michael’s shoulder. “Dude, you know you can’t use your power.”

“I know.” Michael hissed back, his eyes on Corky, who was warming up to spar.

“He’s going to kill you.”

“I know.”

Taylor walked to the front of the crowd, announcing, “Okay, so here’s the deal. First one knocked to the ground loses. Fair enough?”

“Fair enough,” Corky said, bobbing a little.

“Taylor…” Michael said, ticking harder than before.

She reached into her pocket. “And here’s a twenty-dollar bill that says Michael’s going to put Corky on his back. Any takers?”

Everyone looked around at each other, but there were no takers. She turned to Corky. “C’mon, Corky. You’re going to crush him, right? Where’s your money?”

Corky somehow managed to look very small, for someone almost the size of Andre the Giant. “I don’t have my wallet…”

“In fact, let’s make it sweeter. The loser has to wear my skirt to school on Monday. All day, and he has to carry the other’s books and tie his shoes.” Taylor continued, turning to Corky. “C’mon Corky, he’s half your size. On the other hand, there’s only one of you. The last time I saw him,he had three guys on their backs begging for mercy. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.” she turned back to the crowd. “Who wants to see Corky wearing my skirt on Monday?”

The crowd cheered, and Corky shouted above them, “Hey, I was just kidding around. I don’t want to hurt the little guy, Cool?”

Michael sighed in relief.

Drew stepped in, not wanting to let the crowd die down. “Arrgh,” he shouted, in a pirate imitation. “Them be fightin’ wards, matie. Wards yu’ll be a regrettin’. Li’l Norris be so tough he can kick the back side ‘a yar face.”

The crowd laughed, and fell into a barrage of Chuck Norris jokes. After a minute, someone shouted, “What’s the matter, Corky? Chicken?”

Someone then started a chant of, “Vey, Vey, Vey,”

Taylor walked over to Michael. “That didn’t go the way I thought it would.”

“Really?” Michael said.

Essie was doing everything she could not to hyperventilate. She really hoped Taylor had a plan.

“It’s not so bad.” Taylor said.

“How is this ‘not so bad’?” Michael asked, ticking about as hard as Essie had ever seen.

“Well, no one expects you to be.at him. So if you lose, you’ll look brave for fighting a monster. And if you somehow win, you’ll be a legend.”

“I feel much better.”

“Hey, sarcasm, that’s a good sign. If you can still snark, you can still think.” Essie said, and Michael shot her a look as Taylor chuckled.

“Wait. I’ve got another idea.” Taylor said.

“What? We snark Corky until he falls?” Essie asked, quizzical.

Taylor shook her head, still laughing. “No.” she turned back to Michael. “When I say ‘go’, run into him as hard as you can and try to knock him down.”

“Are you kidding me? He’s a goddamn brick wall.” Michael said, his voice going high on the last sentence.

“Trust me.” Taylor said, putting her hand on his arm.

“I did.”

“Trust me again.”

“Let’s go!” Corky shouted, getting antsy from the other side of the courtyard. “Let’s get this thing going.”

“Alright,” Taylor said, as she and the others stepped away from Michael. “When I say ‘go’, come out fighting. Ready… Get set… Go!” Essie noticed out of the corner of her eye that Taylor seemed to concentrate on Corky right after she finished her sentence.

Michael took off running, shouting as he slammed into Corky, who, shockingly, stumbled back and fell into an azalea bush.

“Yeah!” Drew shouted, running to Corky. “I told you, man! Little Norris rules.”

Michael stood up, and Corky looked dazed. Drew pointed his finger at Corky. “I warned you, don’t mess with little Norris. The kid’s got sweet moves.”

Michael looked more shocked than anyone. He held out his hand to Corky to help him up, though Corky was easily three times his size, so he likely wouldn’t have been able to help, regardless. After Corky stood, he looked to Michael.

“Good job, kid.”

Taylor walked over to the two of them, “I’m not letting you wear my skirt, you’ll stretch it. But it looks like you’ll be carrying Michael’s books.” she told him, with a bit of pride in her grin.

Michael waved it off, saying they were just messing around. Corky agreed in his dazed state, seemingly confused about what had just happened. Essie was confused, too, from her spot near the sidelines, as more of their classmates seemed to surround Michael to congratulate him.

After a few more minutes of conversation, as Essie was trying to make sense of what had just happened, Taylor dragged Michael away, towards Essie and Ostin.

“Where are we going?” Michael asked her, looking over his shoulder at the group that had been talking to him.

“Where no one will hear us. Come on, Ostin, Essie.” Taylor said, motioning for the two to follow.

“You got my name right,” Ostin said, eyes wide.

The group went back inside of the mansion, and Ostin grabbed a brownie as they passed back through the snack tables, up a set of marble stairs, into a bedroom that was as big as Ostin and Essie’s family’s entire apartment. As Essie was looking at the giant impressionist style painting hanging on the wall opposite, Taylor locked the door behind them.

“Where’d you learn that move?” Ostin asked Michael, which snapped Essie out of her train of thought. “That was awesome. You took down gorilla-man without your powers.”

“It wasn’t me,” Michael said, looking at Taylor, his eyebrow raised. “Was it?”

Taylor sat down on the massive, overstuffed bed. “It was sort of you. You did knock him down.” she corrected, a glint in her eyes.

Essie and Ostin looked between the two of them. “What did she do?” Ostin asked.

“The same thing she did to Mr. Poulsen. She rebooted him. Didn’t you?”

Essie didn’t follow. Reboot a person? How would that even work? They weren’t machines, they couldn’t be rebooted.

“Can I tell them?” Michael asked Taylor.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “You just did.”

“Well, you showed them first.”

“What are you talking about?” Ostin asked, continuing to look between the two of them.

“Taylor has powers like mine,” Michael answered.

“What the hell does that mean?” Essie asked, putting stress on the last word.

Ostin’s jaw dropped. “She can shock like you?”

“Not exactly. She can shock people’s brains.” Michael corrected.

“Oh, rebooting!” Essie said, clapping her hands together. That part made so much more sense now.

“Ah,” Ostin smiled. “Like pressing a reset button. I get it. That’s why Poulsen looked like he’d been sucker punched. I thought he had a brain tumor or something. Then how did you knock Corky over?”

“I didn’t. Michael did. I just rebooted him a second before Michael crashed into him. He didn’t even know where he was.” Taylor answered him, looking a bit concerned about how easily the two of them were accepting this.

“Wait a minute, rewind. Are we all just going to ignore the fact that Ostin thought a teacher had a tumor and didn’t tell anyone?” Essie asked, looking at her cousin, incredulously.

“Nevermind that, this is awesome!” Ostin said, looking at Taylor.

“No, it’s not. She shouldn’t be using her powers in public like that. Someone will figure it out.” Michael said, looking concerned.

“I know.” Taylor said, pressing the heel of her palms into her closed eyes. “I need to confess something.” she continued, looking at Michael with an equally concerned expression. “But first, you need to promise me that you won’t get mad, okay? I feel bad enough about it.”

“What did you do?”

“Promise me.” she said, reaching out to Michael’s hand.

“Alright. I promise.”

“I won the basketball game for us. At least I might have.”

“What do you mean?”

“I rebooted the guy as he was shooting his free  throws. That’s why he missed so badly.” Taylor said softly, looking at her other hand in her lap.

“That’s just wrong,” Ostin said.

“Ostin!” Essie hissed. She shot Taylor an apologetic look.

Michael looked at Taylor, his expression disbelieving. “After what you said to me at the game? What happened to not using our powers in public?”

“I know. I just didn’t want to lose. I’m such a hypocrite. I, like, ruined that guy’s life.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I highly doubt you ruined his life. He���s got a few years left of school to get college scouts looking at him again, and one bad game doesn’t lose a scholarship, or high school popularity.” Essie shrugged. At least, that’s not how she’d seen it play out in her school life. The people in sports stayed popular, this wasn’t going to ruin that for him.

Ostin was pacing. “People, we need to keep this under control. That’s why we need the club, to set standards.” he smiled, turning his chin up. “And I have a name for our club. The Electroclan.”

“What’s an Electroclan?” Michael asked.

“Us, obviously.” Essie said sarcastically.

Ostin shot her a look. “It’s just a name, the electro part is self-evident. A clan is a group of people who all have the same…”

“I like it,” Taylor cut off his sentence. “It’s catchy.”

“I told you he was good at this,” Michael said, grinning at Ostin.

Ostin looked even more proud of himself. “Now we need bylaws and a mission statement.”

“What kind of bylaws?” Taylor asked.

“Like, for instance, who we can tell about our powers,” Ostin said.

“Which would be no one,” Michael said.

“And when we can use our powers,”

“That’s easy for you,” Taylor said, looking between Ostin and Essie. “You don’t have powers.”

“Yes I do. Advanced intellectual powers.”

“No, that’s fair, although I do have AuDHD, so I have a really good memory for things I’m hyperfixating on.” Essie answered.

“They’re not electric.” Taylor said, eyebrows furrowed.

“You’re wrong. Technically, all thinking is electric. The brain consists of about a hundred billion cells, most of which are neurons whose primary job is shooting electrical impulses down an axon, and-” Ostin explained.

“Alright, we get it.” Michael said, cutting off Ostin’s rant before it became a lecture.

“So, I’m just as powerful as…” Ostin stopped mid sentence, looking around the room. “What was I saying?”

Michael and Essie turned to Taylor, who just grinned.

Ostin blushed, annoyed. “You rebooted me, didn’t you?”

“Well, you’re just so powerful.”

Essie bit back her laughter.

“You can’t do that, you don’t know if that damages someone’s brain. It could burn brain cells.” Ostin said, rubbing his temples.

“Relax, Ostin,” Michael said, shaking his head. “You’ve got plenty to burn.” he turned to Taylor. “He’s right, you know. We shouldn’t be using our powers on each other.”

Taylor looked a bit embarrassed. “I was just fooling around.”

“Alright, rule number one: no using powers against each other.”

Essie got out a notepad and glitter pen, scribbling Michael’s words down.

“And we need a mission statement,” Ostin said, frowning at Taylor.

“We need a mission,” Michael said, pointedly.

“I think I have one,” Taylor spoke up, moving closer to Michael. “To find out why we have powers. I’ve discovered something that might be important.”

“What?”

“Okay, you were born in California, right?”

“Pasadena.”

“Get this… so was I.”

“Really?” Michael said, at the same time Essie whispered, “No way!”

“I asked my parents. I was born at Pasadena General Hospital. So I went online and tried to find our birth records. They have the records of births for the last 42 years. In all that time, just 11 days are missing. Guess which days.” Taylor continued, leaning in towards the rest of the group, a glint in her eyes.

“Our birthdays?” Michael asked.

“Exactly,” she answered.

“That’s weird,”

“Statistically, an improbability,” Ostin said, sitting on a chair that Essie had moved towards the group earlier. “You two born at the same hospital nearly the same day with the same mutant variation.”

“Mutant variation?” Michael said, eyebrow raised.

“Like X-Men?” Essie laughed.

“For lack of a better term.” Ostin said, frowning at them.

“Find a better term,” Taylor said. “I like power.”

“Clearly,” Ostin said, as the two dissolved into bickering, until Michael stood up.

“Stop it, you two. Ostin, quit calling us mutants or I’ll shock you.”

Ostin closed his mouth, frowning.

“Why would the records be hidden?” Michael asked, getting them back on track.

“Same reason I hide my diary from my mother,” Taylor answered.

“Because you’d be in trouble if she found it,” Michael smiled at Taylor. “I think you’re onto something.”

“Except we hit a dead end, the records are gone.”

“Au contraire,” Essie said, eyes gleaming. This was something she could do. “All we need to do is look at news coverage or government records from that time and place. It shouldn’t be that hard to find, genealogy sites should have plenty of info linked, too.”

“Excellent. So we just look up those births and see where they lead.” Michael said, smiling.

“We’ll work on that.” Ostin said, motioning to himself and his cousin. “We’ll look them up and analyze them for our next club meeting. When should we meet again?”

“You have your birthday party tomorrow, and I have mine on Sunday. Monday I have cheerleading practice. How about Tuesday?” Taylor asked, going through the events in her head.

“Works for me.” Ostin said.

Essie nodded. The only things she had to do outside of schoolwork was writing, and her characters could wait a day. 

“Good with me,” Michael agreed. “Then the first meeting of the Electroclan is hereby adjourned until next Tuesday.”

“Good, I hope there’s some food left.” Ostin said, as the four left the room and moved downstairs.

Michael looked at his watch, then to Taylor. “I need to call my mom for a ride home.”

“Don’t you have a phone?” Taylor asked.

Michael looked down, blushing as he began to tic. “No. Things are kind of tight right now.”

“You can use my cell,” Taylor said, pulling a pink slide phone out of her purse, handing it to him. Michael tried to dial the number, but the screen kept turning to static. “What’s wrong with your phone?”

Taylor took it back, confused. “I don’t know. Nothing was wrong with it earlier. Let me try it.” she pressed a few buttons, then shrugged. “It’s fine. Maybe it’s you?”

“Maybe you better dial.”

Michael told Taylor the number, and she dialed. After a moment, she said, “Hello, Mrs. Vey, this is Taylor Ridley. I’m calling for Michael.” she paused. “Thanks, we’re having a good time.” there was a long pause, before she answered, “That sounds really fun. When are you doing it? Okay. I think that will be fine. I look forward to meeting you too. Here’s Michael.” she handed him the phone. “Your mom invited me over tomorrow night for cake and ice cream.”

“You’re coming?” Michael asked, surprised.

“If it’s okay with you.”

“Sure.” Michael said, putting the phone to his ear. “Hi, Mom. Yeah, that’s okay. Sorry, I just have a bad connection. Well, it’s just me, okay. We’re over on Walker Lane. Walker Lane. It’s the last house. You can’t miss it, it’s huge. Okay. Bye.”

He hung up, and handed the phone back to Taylor. “That’s so weird. I’ve never had that problem before.”

“Maybe your electricity is increasing,” Taylor said, looking from her phone to him.

“Tomorrow, we’ll check your voltage again,” Ostin said.

Michael looked a little offended, then shook his head.

“Hey, if you’re coming over to Michael’s, we can have another meeting.” Ostin said, turning to Taylor.

“Fine with me,” she said.

“Fine with me,” Michael said.

“I’ve got no problem here,” Essie shrugged.

Ostin smiled. “Great. Bones.” Ostin said, fistbumping Michael and Essie. When he turned to Taylor, she cringed and waved her hands, motioning at his hands. “I don’t do that.”

About ten minutes later, Mrs. Vey showed up to get them. The three piled into the car, and Essie waved goodbye to Taylor.

Finally, something interesting was happening in Meridian.

[lucislovebug]

Fumbling

Chapter 4 <3

Before she could get a chance to acknowledge his compliment, he was acting a fool with two boys. One with an odd looking modified uniform, and a little boy. She looked to them, and then to Josuke. He was the same boy that was just blushing and falling over his feet, and now he was talking about things she really wish she didn’t have to hear. 

“Oh! Sorry, this is Y/N! She’s walking home with us today, I met her this morning.” Said Josuke, smiling to the girl, grabbing her by her sleeve to pull her into the group. 

“Oh! Mhm, very nice to meet you guys.” She nodded, though confused from how Josuke grabbed her.  

She always knew men switch up, often for the worst, around their best friends. But he had just asked for permission to touch her hair, why was he pulling her around now? It made her feel a bit odd around Josuke, he was so timid and quiet just five minutes ago.  

Seemingly conscious again, Josuke let go of her, gently rubbing her wrist as he moved his hand away, a flash of regret on his face.  

As the girl became acquainted with Koichi and Okuyasu, she became less apprehensive of their brashness, finding herself laughing and enjoying her time with the three guys. She wasn’t used to talking to people like them, she was always surrounded by her girlfriends, chatting about the latest drama and tests. These guys spoke about.. Nothing, yet they could talk about nothing forever. It was nice to not have to use her brain, she could let herself relax, the seven songs in her head, the replaying of four memories at once shutting off as she tried to make sense of a sentence Okuyasu said. 

The walk home went well, full of laughs, playful slaps between the boys, the air was so good. Not just because of good spirits, but because of the rain from earlier that morning. It was warm, not dry, and the clouds parted, exposing the beautiful yellow-gold sky of the evening.  

Josuke knew it was only a matter of time before he remembered he was with such a beauty. The falling sunlight rested at the high points of her face, illuminating her soft skin. The way her eyes seemed to sparkle more in the light was breathtaking, he suddenly became quiet, walking beside her, taking sneaky glances like he would every time they had class together. The way the tip of her nose seemed to call him in closer, the way her lips moved as she spoke and smiled, how her eyebrows furrowed when she tried to get a point across, her cheeks, which looked so soft, and her cute chin were all perfect examples of beauty. 

“Josuke?” The girl asked, nudging him in the bicep, trying to get his attention. 

“Huh? Oh! Yeah, what’s up?” He asked, sadly being pulled out of his trance, yet happy that it was her who did it. 

“I’m home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She said with a smile, nudging his arm again as she walked up her stoop, disappearing into the house.  

“Bye!” He said as she walked away, a big smile growing across his face as he watched her pretty body move, now grateful for the rain that ruined his hair this morning.  

“Dude.. What’s wrong with you?” Okuyasu questioned rudely, smacking him on the back as her door shut. His demeanor changed, his rough face now looking to him with puppy eyes. “Ohhh Y/NNNN.... You’re so... Woowwww...” He mocked, scowling. “You have zero play!” He said with a saddened expression, seemingly disappointed in the lack of skills he had with girls. 

“Dude!” Josuke said angrily, hitting him right back. “Is it really that bad? I’m just treating her kind! What am I supposed to do?” He said with an exhausted and dejected sigh. 

“Bro you gotta woo her!” Said Koichi, shaking his head as if it were obvious. “Don’t treat her like she’s one of us.. Take her out tomorrow instead of walking with us, we’ll understand.” He said with an encouraging smile, nodding as he spoke. 

“Shit.. Are you sure? You know I’ve only spoken and fumbled before..” He said a bit nervously, subconsciously fixing his hair until it felt right. 

“Yeah, dude. Buy her a snack to give her tomorrow morning, take her out for a late lunch after school, girls love food, trust.” Koichi continued to say, smiling and being actually helpful, while Okuyasu only made fun of him. 

“Yo, really? That’s all I have to do to impress her? Will she like me back?” He asked, tilting his head to his right thoughtfully. 

“I mean.. I don’t know her too well. Just make sure she’s fed, feels special, and do the extra work to see her happy.” He said thoughtfully, Okuyasu in the back with his hand on his hip and nodding as if he had any experience with women. 

“Sure.. I’ll go get her something, see you tomorrow.” He said, a twinge of nervousness in his voice. He gave his friends fist bumps, and then walked off, finding himself at a convenience store. 

It was then he realized that he had no clue what she liked. 

He thought to himself, trying to recall any of her conversations he had overheard, hoping and hoping any of them spoke about food or drinks. Thankfully, he thinks he remembered her saying something about not liking fruit in her pastries, preferring them separate. He went to the drink aisle, finding a sweet drink, and then finding a cookie for her. A big chocolate chip cookie that he planned to pop in the microwave before heading out to her the next morning. He smiled to himself as he paid for the items, feeling proud of himself for what he was doing. He felt a bit more grown up now, he had a woman to buy things for. 

He walked home, putting the drink and cookie in the refrigerator, hiding it behind the lettuce so his mom wouldn’t take it. He spent the rest of his day doing anything to avoid studying, sleeping a little later into the night as he was caught up in his world of video games. 

[0613magazine]

071323 Variety

Jung Kook of BTS Launches Solo Single, ‘Seven,’ With a Surprise Latto Feature: ‘I Want to Show a More Mature and Grown Version of Myself’

Jung Kook launched his first major solo single, “Seven,” at the stroke of midnight ET Friday morning, as promised. It came with a surprise that was unpromised: the appearance of one of the hottest female rappers of our day, Latto, making a featured appearance on the track. The lyrics talk about some hot action that is due to go down between the two, but the music, however, high-energy, feels deeply chill. In other words, it feels designed to be a late entry in the “songs of the summer” derby.

In an email interview with Variety, Jung Kook acknowledges the summery vibe but sounds almost surprised to hear a hit-status projection for the tune, as if this crossed his mind about the Andrew Watt/Cirkut co-written and -produced track belatedly. “I honestly didn’t have a huge goal in mind, but since you said that, I’d be ecstatic if it becomes a ‘hit,'” he says. It’s not just a distant possibility — “Seven” won’t disappoint the fans who’ve waited to see whether he would come out with a bop as well as a bang, as well as find favor with a lot of pop radio listeners who haven’t yet declared their BTS fandom.

Due to translation issues, Jung Kook did the interview with a translator sending his answers via email. In it, he vows — or at least hopes — that the BTS ARMY can expect a solo album before 2023 is up, without giving too much away about how much is already in the can and how much remains to be done. In the meantime, fans can see how his solo charisma comes off, minus group chemistry, as he performs “Seven” in an appearance on “Good Morning America” Friday morning.

Even though “Seven” is officially your global solo debut, you’ve had songs that have already topped a billion streams on Spotify. And you recently re-released “Still With You” and “My You” to more platforms, and “Still With You” has kind of been a streaming hit in its own way. Was the strategy to use these to help ramp up hunger for “Seven”? Did you have confidence that having fans support those songs would not take anything away from the thirst for a new song?

“Still With You” and “My You” were released as free tracks, meaning they weren’t officially released. I thought it’d be nice for fans to listen to my previous solo tracks on streaming platforms before the release of “Seven,” which marks my official solo debut. It’s like a token of gratitude, so to speak. It wasn’t a strategic move or didn’t had anything to do with my confidence. 

Were you working on a lot of songs, and “Seven” ended up being the strongest to put out as your first global single after you had a selection — or was it always going to be “Seven” and you just focused on perfecting that?

Upon hearing “Seven,” I thought, “This is it.” After that, I focused on practicing and recording the track multiple times to perfect it. I hope that many people can feel as I felt when I first heard the song.

These are two big-name producer-writers on the track. What would you say about their contributions?

Andrew (Watt) and Cirkut worked on the songwriting and producing for “Seven.” When recording, Andrew was so passionate about giving directions, which led the recording to go very smoothly. I’m truly grateful to them for helping me debut as a solo artist with great music.

You could have had your choice of a number of guest artists. What was it about Latto that made you want her to be the featured artist?

We thought about who would be the best rapper for this summer song, and one of the producers recommended Latto. So, we reached out to her, and she gladly agreed to work together for “Seven.” I personally like her rapping voice, and I thought her voice adds another layer of liveliness.

The whole song is sexy, but the lyrics of Latto’s rap make it a little more overtly sexual. That’s typical with a guest rap. But were you good with her taking it just a little more direct or extreme than you did?

I thought it’s important that it suits the overall mood of the song, and Latto’s unique charm came through very well.

Something about the acoustic guitar in combination with the rhythm will feel breezy to people — in other words, summery. Were you looking for a “summer single,” per se?

The song does have the breezy and summery vibe. I hope that anyone who listens to “Seven” can have a fun summer whenever they listen to it.

As far as BTS members releasing solo material, you are kind of in the middle of the pack, with some preceding you, some to follow. Do you have any thoughts about where you have ended up in the release schedule?

I don’t place a great deal of significance to which order among others my solo work is out. Each person is putting out his solo work at the time of its completion. Personally, I really enjoyed being able to watch the other members’ music, story and promotions that express their own uniqueness and tastes. That was a fresh source of inspiration for my own solo endeavors.  

Some of the group members are using their solo albums to explore sides of themselves that are maybe darker or at least don’t get as much play in group situations. But you seem very comfortable with mainstream pop music, judging from this song. Do you feel like you have a side of yourself, musically or personally, that you hope to be able to show that hasn’t gotten as much spotlight?

It’s my official solo debut, so everything is a challenge and feels new and fresh. Of course, I think a lot about delivering good music and performance while working on my music. But above all, as this is my first step forward in the spotlight as a solo artist, I want to show a more mature and grown version of myself.

This feels like it could be a big song… I’m sure expectations are high. Do you have goals you’re setting for it?

Thank you for your compliment! I’d love it to be a “big hit” (laughter). I honestly didn’t have a huge goal in mind, but since you said that, I’d be ecstatic if it becomes a “hit.”

The BTS book that just came out spotlights some of the relationships within the band. Are you aware of how much fans love to hear about interpersonal friendships even within the band, like the one you apparently have with Jimin, and that means as much to them as the whole-group dynamic?

Yes, I’m aware of it. I love that our members can create great chemistry no matter which member they are with, and that our fans love each and all of us’ chemistry. 

What’s going to follow this single — how much more is in the pipeline?

I’m working hard to release a solo album this year. It’s early to mention anything specific, but look forward to it!

You’re going to be doing the “GMA” summer concert series on Friday morning, not many hours right after the single comes out. Does it feel like it comes naturally, to be the sole focus, or does it feel a little strange to not have to think about how the balance with others comes out?

When I performed “Dreamers” on a big stage like the FIFA World Cup opening ceremony, I did feel the members’ absence. But to be precise, I’d say I have a different mindset going in. When I’m on stage with the members, I focus on the balance as a team, and when I’m on stage alone, I focus on filling up the stage with my own energy. No matter when, it’s always good, if I have our fans with me or BTS.

Everyone always talks about how the group got little or no rest over the years. What’s it been like to get some of that? Or do you feel like you’ve still been too busy preparing a solo career to really know what rest is yet?

Lately, I’ve been quite busy again working on “Seven.” It’s good that we all have time to grow individually, including our solo projects. Whether we are getting rest, learning what we wanted to learn, or focusing on our own music, I think it’s important that we all take some time off like this for us. And after this period, I think we’ll be even greater BTS.

Source: Variety

[alexlwrites]

Yall ready to follow me down to another self indulgent fanfic idea?

Here's what I'm thinking: OT7xChubby!Reader that has spent her whole life making an effort to be the nicest person ever, to be sweet, delicate and feminine.

Until the day you got tired of always being the "nice girl". Of always getting the "you're super cool but not my type" or the "you're really cool and I know I have been talking to you for months but really I am interested in your thin friend". Of smiling sweetly even when boys say hi to your entire group of friends but do not acknowledge your presence.

It's tiring, you decide one day, crying in a club bathroom after seeing your friend making out with the guy you thought was looking at you throughout the night. It's exhausting making an effort for people who would never see you for anything beyond your weight.

And so you don't.

Now any mean comment towards you gets hit with one three times worse. Now you don't let people walk all over you. Now you wear what you want, say want you want and do what you want.

Enters seven campus princes who are so used to getting everything they want that they like when you tell them to fuck off, actually thinking your bratty attitude and mean words were kind of... hot. And so for a change, they make an effort to please you, going all out, climbing over each other to get a smile from you who could not be bothered to give them a single second of your day.

[akookminsupporter]

THE JIKOOK OTI7ICATION

Identifying yourself as an ARMY is nice. It is nice because it is the manifestation or recognition of being a fan of the most important music group in the world today. It is your manifestation to the world that you are a fan of seven talented, humble, funny South Koreans and that you are proud to be one.

To identify yourself as ARMY is to let the world know that you are part of a movement almost, of something big. Something that others would like to have. It's telling the world that you are part of a fandom that wholeheartedly supports their favourite band and is willing to do whatever it can to help them conquer the musical world.

But being in the community is tiring, often disappointing. Especially if you are a jikooker.

I think at some point every jikooker in this fandom has said the same thing: The fandom seems to hate JiKook.

At one point I thought it was an exaggeration. Today I believe it is true.

In this fandom, there is a fixation, a need to demerit everything JiKook does. To explain what they say. To give different interpretations to their words or actions and as we have seen in the last few days, the need to oti7icate everything JiKook does. Because for them there can be no other explanation. Because they are friends, they are like brothers! To even hint that there is a lgtbi+ relationship between them is almost a cardinal sin and those who dare to say it is delusional. Oh, you had to be a shipper! You read a lot of them, all of them say, it all makes sense!

But this fandom is hypocritical because one of the biggest "jokes" in the fandom about BTS is that they are in a polyamorous relationship with each other. They got married in Vegas! It's been the running joke these days, but when a person genuinely believes that two of them are in a lgtbi+ relationship and that they believe that because of the actions of those two members, those joking moments ago, will insult you, treat you as a pariah, as the worst in the fandom.

Some will have the audacity to confront you by asking you if you don't think about how saying something like that on social media can be harmful to them; because of course, saying they are lgtbi+ is only allowed if it's said as a joke, being serious about it is an offence. To seriously presume that someone, Jimin and Jungkook are lgtbi+ is an offence as if the lgtbi+ community needs to be further marginalised. Obviously, that last one you can't say because it would only show how dramatic you are.

I've been wondering since 2020 if the apprehension that fandom, in general, seems to feel when it comes to JiKook is jealousy, fear of a reality they're not really ready to accept. Homophobia. Here I'm not talking about the subgroup but the whole fandom, except for jikookers of course, because, even if some don't want to accept it, they are part of the fandom too.

That's why, while not exactly surprising, I was sad to see the Ot7ification, as jikookers are calling it, of things said by JiKook exclusively about them. Where something Jungkook said about Jimin or to Jimin, is used to refer to all the other members as well when that's not what he said, obviously.

Sad but not surprising either that when jikookers have called out this disrespect basically, their arguments have been reduced to ship stuff, which is insignificant and are only diatribes from delusional people. It is impossible to defend Jimin and Jungkook and their relationship because your words will be dismissed once the person finds out you are a jikooker.

For me the problem is not that someone in the fandom doesn't respect me, ignores me or even insults me, I am not here for an individual in the fandom that I don't know and will never meet, my problem and I know the problem of many, is the disrespect towards Jimin and Jungkook and what they say and do. It is the audacity to interpret words said by them, interpretations that are not necessary and often absurd, to avoid acknowledging, and accepting what, in my opinion, is quite obvious.

But it is also more than that. The problem is the invalidation of the words that Jimin and Jungkook choose to say. It is the invalidation of the things they choose to do. It is the invalidation of Jimin and Jungkook as a couple, romantic or otherwise. Because it's not even about that. No one can really claim that they are a couple. Many believe it, many are sure they are, but that's all subjective. The real problem, at least for me, is the invalidation of Jimin and Jungkook's relationship. Of their friendship. Of their dynamic.

When it comes to JiKook in original content almost everyone ignores them. When it comes to JiKook in concert, only jikookers mainly post moments about them. When it came to Jungkook doing something for Jimin only, some would ignore it or somehow oto7ic it.

The problem is that this is not about ships. Because this only happens with JiKook. JiKook is the only ship that is ignored. The others are celebrated. The others are joked about. People, and fans do post the moments between them. Their shippers are sometimes ignored, but almost never insulted, especially the subgroup, who without a doubt are the most toxic shippers in the fandom.

The problem is that because it's something about JiKook, when one of them, very often it's Jimin, gets insulted, gets hate thrown at him for something he did with Jungkook he gets ignored by supposed OT7 accounts because it's just ships problem! Damn shippers! That's all you read them say. It's all reduced to a ship war because they are INCAPABLE of defending JiKook. To defend Jungkook AND Jimin.

The problem here, really, is that the fandom, in general, has a problem with JiKook. It has a problem with Jimin and Jungkook together.

The problem here is that the fandom sees what jikookers see when it comes to JiKook, but their damn homophobia won't let them accept it.

The problem here is that this fandom is OT7 except when it comes to JiKook.

Being an ARMY is a source of pride, because that's how BTS identifies their fans because that's how the world recognises the millions of people behind them supporting them as a group. But being an ARMY and a Jikooker at the same time is difficult.

The saddest thing is that in the end it's not about whether jikookers are right about what they believe or not, it's about whether this fandom is unable to respect the relationship of two members of the group they supposedly claim to admire.

But at the end of the day, Jimin and Jungkook will continue to be the way they are, they will continue to behave the way they want to behave. They will continue to show us what they want to show us about their relationship. At the end of the day, Jimin and Jungkook will still be happy together.

[blu-joons]

When Another Member Is Your Ideal Type ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

“Was Jin the member that always caught your eye?” Namjoon asked you as you sat to the table and met the boys for the first time.

Your head shook, “he already knows that he wasn’t my type really.”

“Who was?” He then asked, “wouldn’t it be funny if it was one of us.”

“Well, it actually was,” you nervously admitted, feeling seven pairs of eyes snap around to look at you. “I actually used to say how you were my ideal type Namjoon, but since I’ve met Jin, I’ve realised that maybe ideal types aren’t really a thing after all.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened as all the other members groaned, “it’s nice to know you like me, but I hope you love our Jin a little bit more than you do me.”

“Of course, I do,” you smiled, “he already knows that you’re my kind of guy anyway. Or you were, but I’ve realised these days my ideal type just consists of someone who can make me laugh and wink constantly in my direction.

“Don’t pretend that you don’t love when I wink at you.”

Yoongi:

“Look at all the fans screaming over Tae,” Yoongi remarked at you walked out of the arena and past the crowd of fans at the barriers.

Your eyes flickered across, “I used to be one of those fans, thank you.”

“For Tae?” He queried, “but what about always cheering for me?”

“I do now,” you quickly assured him, squeezing his hand gently, “but before I got to know BTS properly, I was instantly drawn to Taehyung because I noticed he had so many qualities that I looked for in a guy, so I’d always just cheer for him.”

Yoongi’s head shook back at you, “are you using me to get to Tae?” He teased, raising his eyebrows questionably back across at you. “Am I just a tool?”

“I cheer for you now,” you chuckled, pushing gently against his side, “now that I’ve got to know you and your personality, I’ve realised that Taehyung wasn’t my ideal type at all, and in fact, you ticked all of the boxes instead.”

“I can’t believe it’s always Tae who steals the girl’s hearts.”

Hoseok:

“Is there a kind of guy you’re looking for?” Your date asked across the table, taking a large sip from the glass of wine in front of him.

You smiled back across at him, “do you really want to know about my type?”

“Of course,” he hummed, “I’m guessing your ideal type would be just like me.”

“Sort of,” you mused, anxious playing with your hands that rested in your lap, “see the thing is, I actually do know who you are, and whenever anyone has asked about my ideal type, I usually just tell them that it’s your member, Jungkook, he always seemed like a great guy.”

His head nodded back at you, “well, I hope at least now that you’ve had the chance to meet me, he’s now your second favourite in the group instead?”

“Definitely,” you chuckled, relieved that he had reacted in such good spirits, “at least now when people ask me, I can say your name, and who knows, if this date continued going well, I could maybe tell them a little more too.”

“I’d definitely like for you to tell them a little more too.”

Namjoon:

“Was I always the member you liked when you first started working here?” Namjoon asked you one evening at a company dinner.

You frowned, “based off my ideal type, you weren’t at all.”

“Then who?” He frowned, “I bet it was Kook, it always is.”

“It wasn’t Kook,” you grinned, noticing the surprise in your face, “it was actually Jin. I always said that personality was my number one thing and meeting him and his sense of humour instantly made me feel welcomed by you and comfortable around you.”

Namjoon’s head nodded, “I’m the leader, did I not make you feel welcomed by the group? Is this your way of saying that I need to be funnier?”

“No,” you sniggered, taking a hold of his hands, “you made me feel very welcome, and as I got to know you, I realised that you were the guy that I liked the most out of the group, my ideal type definitely changed over time.”

“Good, as long as I’m your favourite now, then that’s fine.”

Jimin:

“I always wanted to ask you something,” Jimin spoke up as the two of you engaged in one of your usual late-night conversations together.

Your eyes looked up to him, “what did you want to ask me?”

“When we first met,” he began, “why did you have a Yoongi banner?”

“Do you really want to know?” You asked, surprised when his head nodded back at you. “He was my bias in the group before I met any of you. I wanted to try and get him to notice me because he was the guy, I liked the most.”

Jimin’s eyes widened at your response, “he better not still be the guy that you like the most otherwise I’m going to go to his room and make sure you never see him again.”

“He’s not,” you laughed, resting your arm over him to stop him from leaving the bed, “now that I’ve got to know all of you, you’re definitely my guy. You don’t have to worry about anything, I’ll even have a banner for you at the next concert.”

“Damn right you will, everyone needs to know that you’re mine.”

Taehyung:

“Did you ever have an ideal type?” Taehyung suddenly asked you as the two of you began to reflect upon the start of your relationship.

Your head nodded back at him, “I don’t think you’d want to hear it though.”

“Why?” He chuckled innocently, “how bad could it have been, was it not me?”

“Not exactly,” you whispered, shyly looking across at him, “you’re going to hate this, but my ideal type was actually a little more like Hobi. I always loved guys who just constantly loved to laugh, and I really liked his smile whenever I watched him in an interview.”

Taehyung’s head shook back at you in a moment of disbelief, “I can give you his number,” he joked, “is he still your deal type in that case?”

“Absolutely not,” you chuckled, reaching across the table to take a hold of his hand, “you’re definitely my ideal type now, I know what I really wanted in a guy now, and that’s definitely what you have, and not what Hobi has.”

“I’m never going to allow you around him ever again.”

Jungkook:

“Is Jungkook the kind of guy that you usually go for?” His mother questioned you as she continued trying to get to know you.

Your head shook, smiling weakly, “I usually go for smaller guys.”

“Like Jimin,” she instantly chuckled, “wait, did you like Jimin at all?”

“I wouldn’t say I liked him,” you quickly pointed out, beginning to feel your heartbeat quicken, “but when I first met the boys, physically I was drawn to Jimin, but as I got to know Jungkook more I realised he was a lot more of my type, personality wise.”

Her head nodded, sensing how nervous you had become, “I can hardly blame you, Jimin really is such a sweetie, and he treats our Kookie well too.”

“He’s kind,” you acknowledged, “and he’s a great friend to me too, but you don’t have to worry, my heart is very much with your son. He’s taught me a lot about opening my eyes and broadening my horizons when it comes to dating too.”

“Keep loving him, and I promise that you won’t regret it.”

---

Masterlist

[awanderingdeal]

I vote leo meeting the harvard team! 💕

So this fic has been a bit of a mare to write, but we are here!

You can read the first part of this here

Rating: T

CW: Alcohol, academic superiority complex and coming out.

Logan, Finn, Leo, Percy, Will and the general Sweater Weather universe belongs to @lumosinlove. The other team members were made up by me for this fic.

“Okay, tell me their names again,” Leo said, tugging at the rolled neck of his sweater as he shut the car door.

“Nutty,” Finn laughed. “There’s not going to be a pop quiz. We’ll introduce you when we meet people.”

Leo scowled, letting Logan thread their fingers together. It was weird being able to do this in public still and Leo couldn’t help but glance around. “I just don’t want to make a fool of myself.” Logan squeezed his hand reassuringly, meeting Leo’s gaze with a soft smile.

“Nobody expects you to know anything. And everybody’s great.” Logan wrinkled his nose like he’d just smelt something bad. “Except Wesley, he’s an ass, but I’ll point him out.”

Like many of the others in Harvard square, the building was all exposed brick and white accents, blending in seamlessly with those around it. Inside was different, more modern. Leo didn’t get to see much of the first floor, the one dedicated to the restaurant Finn, Logan and the rest of the team had dined at previous evening, before he was ushered up a grand staircase, but he’d seen the photographs. The cherry blossom ceilings and walls of glass provided the perfect backdrop for the instagram feeds of the hoards of celebrities and influencers that flocked there. Hence his surprise when, after checking their invitations again, an employee pushed open a set of double doors to reveal a room that more resembled a 1920’s speakeasy than anything 21st century. A loud cheer went up as they crossed the threshold.

“Is this a team thing?” Leo mouthed at Logan.

He got his answer from Percy Marshall. Leo had met him a few times before when they’d played the Rangers. “You’re the last to arrive,” Percy chuckled. “I’d say I was surprised, but that would be a lie.” He slapped a hand playfully against Finn’s bicep. Is this outfit change number 52, Finn? Don’t worry, you didn’t disappoint. You look wonderful.”

“Fuck you, Marshy,” Finn laughed. “Tremz was on a call to his sisters actually.”

“Oh, I do apologise,” Percy clasped his hand to his chest. “We wouldn’t dare break up a Tremblay soiree.”

“You’re an ass,” Logan scoffed, plucking at Finn’s slacks. “I was only talking to them because Finn was taking so long. Did you know there are several shades of mustard and only one of them goes with this shirt?”

“Oh look, they argue like an old married couple too,” William Morgan, another of those Leo knew, and Percy’s teammate on the Rangers, teased. “Marshy, these hands are looking too empty. Get these men a drink.”

“Aye, aye, capt’n.” Leo set to follow as Percy led the way to the bar, stumbling slightly as he found Will’s firm grasp on his shoulder stopping his movement. Logan turned as his fingers slipped from his hand.

“Go ahead, Tremzy. I’m going to introduce Leo to some of the team. We want all the gossip without you two around to censor him.”

Logan frowned. “I’m not sure -”

“Relax, Logan. This isn’t a hazing. We’ll be right over there,” Will pointed towards a group perched on stools around two of the tables in the centre of the room, a mix of the old team and what Leo assumed were their partners. “Knut’s a big boy. He can object for himself if he really doesn’t want to come.”

“I’m sure I can hold my own,” Leo cocked his head slightly and smiled. “You better not leave Harzy with Percy for too long. They’ll be three shots down by now.”

The next few hours passed in a whirlwind of introductions. Leo had lost count of the number of hands he'd shaken and the new names he'd learned. It reminded him of those first few days in Gryffindor, being shuffled around from place to place and everybody telling him he'd get used to it.

The quiet of the bathroom was a welcome reprieve to the chaos. “Sweetheart,” Leo laughed, listening to Finn sing to himself in the stall. “Are you okay? You’ve been in there a while.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” A concerningly loud crash preceded the door being pushed open. “I’m here.”

“You’re drunk,” Leo chuckled.

Finn pulled his hands from under the stream of water, shaking droplets everywhere as he squeezed the tips of his thumb and forefinger together. “Maybe just the tiniest bit.”

Leo shook his head fondly. “Let’s go and find Lo.” Glancing back to check Finn was following him proved to be a mistake. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he apologised, rubbing at his forehead and stepping back from the wall of muscle he’d just crashed into. Of course, the tall man with his hair pulled back into a loose ponytail was the one person Leo hadn’t yet met.

“Leo, this is James. Call him Hunter,” Finn grinned with his hand resting in the small of Leo’s back. "Hunter, this is -"

"Leo Knut. I know. Everybody knows," Hunter said and Leo noted the familiar notes of his own accent in the words. He faltered with his hand thrust halfway in Leo's direction, letting it fall back by his side. "Oh fuck, sorry man. Did you want to introduce him as your boyfriend? Go ahead."

"It's cool, no worries." Finn shrugged, the rounds of his cheeks tinged with the slightest of blushes. "Aww, what the heck!" He squared his shoulders, standing a little taller, the corners of his mouth splitting with pride. "Hunter, this is Leo, my boyfriend."

Hunter extended his hand again for Leo to shake. “Nice to meet you. Please excuse me, I have to use the bathroom now, but we’ll talk later.”

***

"Boys." The call had come from behind them and Logan groaned low in his chest as they turned to acknowledge it.

"Wes! You made it," Finn smiled, the corners of his mouth tight. "We weren't sure you'd be able to. With all those big meetings you have to attend and such. Is your wife, Renee, wasn’t it, here? I'd love to meet her."

Something flickered in Wes' smug expression. "They stayed in California. Nate has a very busy schedule. Harvard is very important to me, as you know, so I came alone."

“Isn’t Nate three?” Logan blinked.

“You have to give them a good start if you want them to get them to get into a good college these days, I’m sure you understand. Where was it you went, Leo?"

Leo pursed his lips, letting the same calm wash over him that he channelled for interviews. “I didn’t go. I got drafted straight out of high school.”

“Oh, well, that’s a shame,” Wes said. “College isn’t for everybody though, is it?”

Logan bristled beside him, and Leo placed a placating hand on his shoulder. “Indeed,” he blinked. “I didn’t need my intelligence validated by a degree then, and I still don’t now. And I was hardly about to turn down an offer from The Gryffindor Lions now, was I?”

Wes grumbled something that sounded vaguely like an agreement before turning on his heel and walking off in a manner that Leo could only describe as petulant.

“You’re so hot,” Finn took Leo’s face between his hands and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m going to get a drink. Do you want another?”

“Please,” Leo nodded. Logan raised his still mostly full glass as a rejection of the offer.

“You should have let me punch him,” Logan huffed. “He would have deserved it.”

"And get blood on your shirt? Let’s leave that on the ice, shall we?” Leo tugged at the lapels of Logan’s jacket.

***

"So," Logan started as they claimed one of the low tables in the corner, a little tucked away from the rest of the room. "What do you think?"

"It's always nice seeing where you two started," Leo hummed, threading his fingers through the thin curls on the nape of Logan's neck. "I just don't know how you used to do this everyday. Live amongst all this energy. The guys all seem great, but it's a lot even now and I'm assuming you've all mellowed somewhat with age."

"I am not old," Logan scoffed. "Mais non, I agree. Wasn't always like this though. There's more than one graduating class here and we've been apart a long time. A lot of excitement."

"Sorry, sorry, I got caught up with Biscuit. He has triplets now, isn't that crazy?" Finn said, pressing a glass into Logan’s hand and setting Leo’s in front of him before flopping onto the couch opposite. "One Margarita for the fine sir."

"Thanks, Harzy," Leo laughed lightly.

"I can't believe him and Vanessa are still together," Logan hummed, taking a long sip of his drink. He leaned back, crossing his left leg over his right thigh and snaked his arm across the dark leather, brushing his fingers against Leo's shoulder. "I only introduced them because she was flirting with you at that party, the one just after we got back from winter break my junior year, and I wanted to distract her."

"Oh, so that's why you got all moody," Finn said. "She wasn't flirting, she needed help with an essay, idiot."

"The fact you remember Logan's mood on a night seven years ago says more about you than him," Leo snorted.

"First of all, Tremzy being grumpy? That's just a good guess. Second, some of us were still stupid at 20, Knutty." Finn sighed wistfully. "Hey, at least it doesn't feel like I'm being stabbed in the chest these days when I think about it. Progress, right?"

Logan tipped his glass in Finn's direction, nodding his head briefly. "I'll cheers to that."

"To -" Leo started, letting the toast die off as another of Finn and Logan's old team mates approached. He hoped the disappointment he felt wasn't written across his face; whilst he hadn't really expected to be left alone for too long, he had hoped for the brief respite to have lasted longer.

"Hey." The newcomer had his hand shoved into his pockets and his shoulders stooped, almost as if he was trying to hide himself. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Ken!" Finn patted the empty seat next to him. "Of course not. Come, sit."

Leo extended his arm, offering his hand. "Nice to meet you. Ken was it? I'm Leo."

"Ken's what the team always called me. Don't really hear it much these days." Leo thought he saw something sad in the smile sent his way. "My real name is Obi."

"That's because you went off the radar," Logan gave a pointed look.

"About that -" Obi swiped Finn's drink, ignoring his disgruntled protest. He drained what was left of it, pulling at an non-existent loose thread on his sweater. "I wanted to say thank you, you know. For having the guts to come out. I know Black and Lupin were first, but that was forced wasn’t it. You made a choice. I know that must have been hard. It was one hell of a ballsy move."

Leo looked between Finn and Logan, expecting them to answer, but neither of them spoke. "We didn't have much of a choice, not if we didn't want to be watching our back every second of every day."

"It was still brave," Obi muttered. "I couldn't have done it."

"Ken, what are you saying?" Logan never did have much patience for others taking their time to get to the point, even though he was a fan of the scenic route himself.

"They gave you a whole Harvard degree and you need to ask that question?" Obi huffed a laugh. "I'm gay. I met Marco, my now husband at the end of senior year, and freaked out. I didn't know how to make these two worlds work, so I didn't. I moved to DC with him, and started a new life. I'm an accountant, he works in marketing. We have four rats, and a Vizsla called Poppy. It's all very domestic. I love it, but I was a coward.”

"You're not a coward. You don't owe that information to anybody, Ken. Not the others, not the media, not the NHL and not us. Not now, not then, not ever.” Finn took a breath, holding up his finger to signal he wasn’t finished. “Besides, it's not as if Lo and I planned this. We went into this with every intention of stuffing this deep, deep into the depths of denial, never for anybody to find out. Including ourselves. And then Nutty came along.”

Obi smiled at Leo, turning his attention back to Finn. "When did you become Gay Yoda?"

"I spend way too much time in our psych's office. Just spreading the wisdom. Heather would be proud."

"Do the others know?" Logan asked.

"Not yet, I think I'd like them to though."

Logan shifted, leaning forward in his seat. "There's no rush, Ken. We've got your back, whatever you decide."

"So, do you have photos?" Leo cocked his head. "We got to show off. Now it's your turn. Even if it's only for us."

"Of Marco?"

"I'm sure he's wonderful, but I was actually talking about Poppy. And the rats," Leo teased.

There were moments when Leo wondered whether they had made the right decision. When he was playing in front of hostile crowds, or fending off stupid media questions, or blocking bigots on twitter. And then there were moments when he knew the decision they had made was 100% perfect. Right now, that was one of those moments.

[angry-geese]

Blood Ties - Chapter Twenty Nine: Kogane

soulmate au choso x reader

Warnings: jjk manga spoilers so far. swearing and some mild angst. otherwise sfw

Synopsis: i still haven't come up with a creative summary for this but basically this chapter addresses more about the culling game

word count: 3.2k

prev - next

masterlist

Today, Yuji and Megumi are joined by two other people, who you assume to be the suspended third-years. Neither look to be older than a highschool senior. Despite this, the one—Hakari, you think his name is—has a cigarette held between his lips. He cups his hand around it before lighting it. There's the soft flick of a lighter, followed by the orange glow of a flame. The other is sat across from him on the concrete steps, picking at their nails.

Megumi addresses you with a silent nod; an acknowledgement of your presence. That's the most you get from him on a regular day. Though they say nothing, you feel their gazes drift to you. And instead of standing there awkwardly, like you very much want to do, you decide to greet them.

"So we have until November 19th until Tsumiki has to declare participation." You say.

"More or less," Megumi says.

That leaves you a little over seven days, if your math is right. Part of you wants to believe that timeframe is more than enough. But really, you have no clue what the hell you’re getting yourself into.

"You must be Hakari, and…" you're not certain of the other's name.

"Kirara," they answer.

"Kirara," you echo, "if our circumstances were any different, I’d say it's nice to meet you, but…”

They greet you with similar enthusiasm. Not that you can find it in yourself to blame them. Megumi takes it upon himself to introduce you. They seem a bit surprised to hear that you’re not another student, but aside from that, they don't say much about the matter.

“So what's your plan for the game?” You ask.

Calling it a game sounds too casual. Like they’re going off to play baseball, and not fight to the death. There's a joke to be made somewhere in there…

“Get in, earn enough points to get Tsumiki out of the game,” Megumi says, “find that sorcerer Angel, and free Gojo-sensei. He’ll surely know how to settle things once he’s free.”

Any player who earns 100 points has the option to add a rule to the game. There's no option to take away a rule though. So it's up to your little group to find loopholes in these existing rules.

To say the creature that appears startles you half to death would be an understatement. It's as if your soul tries to leap out of your body. There's a solid few seconds where all you can hear is the beating of your heart between your ears.

"Hi!" It says, in a cheery voice, much resembling that of Claptrap, "I'm a Kogane! Inside this barrier, a lethal contest called the culling game has begun! Step inside, and you too can become a player! Are you willing to enter?"

Is it like a shikigami? Is someone controlling this thing? Or does it act on it's own?

"Uh- Kogane," says Yuji, "show us the list of players.”

Yuji acts like he’s seen one of these before, and that helps to settle your nerves a bit. The kogane’s mouth unrolls like a scroll, but instead of being parchment, the list much resembles the screen of a computer. Itadori grabs it, and holds it up, eyes scanning across the list.

"No Angel," Yuji says, jabbing his pointer finger into the list.

"It's probably not their real name," Panda says, "like you and Sukuna."

"Master Tengen mentioned Colony No. 2 in East Tokyo as the location." Megumi says.

That still leaves you with a hundred different questions. How are you supposed to find someone when you don't know what they look like? Is this Angel even going to help you? If they’re like most of the other sorcerers you’ve met, they’re not going to help you guys solely because you asked nicely. And if they’re a sorcerer reincarnated from a thousand years ago, you find that even less likely. They probably won't help you unless there’s something in it for them.

"You know what this guy looks like?" You ask.

"Supposedly we'll know on sight," answers Megumi.

That's not much help.

"Whitford, couldn't you use your Matchmaker to see their soul?" Megumi asks. "Or at least their real name?"

He speaks more politely to your brother, than he does to you. How strange… It's not that you’re offended about such a thing—quite the opposite—it just strikes you as odd.

"Yeah, but not through the barrier." James says. "My Matchmaker can determine their true name since it goes by chosen name, not given. But I'd have to be a player in the game.”

"Whatever." Hakari says, sighing. "Me and Panda'll take Tokyo No. 2. Fushiguro and Itadori, you take No. 1. Kirara you wait outside the barriers,

"Which barrier are you two taking?” The question is directed at you and James. Your gaze meets Hakari’s as he stares you up and down.

“That depends,” answers James, “do you guys need my help tracking down this Angel guy? Or should I take a different barrier?”

“It would be appreciated.” Megumi says.

James simply shrugs. This is the closest to an agreement from him they’ll get.

“Judging from the points, Kashimo is the strongest, so I should handle that player,” Hakari continues, jabbing his finger into the list, “Okkotsu probably hasn't been in touch because cell phones don't work inside barriers, so we need someone outside to keep an eye on things.”

Kirara lets out a dramatic sounding “fiiine!”

Hakari motions to you. “What about you?”

“They’re staying outside the barrier too.” Your brother doesn't even give you the chance to speak up. “With Kirara’s help, the two can cover more ground. Their cursed technique won't be of much use, if what's going on in there is like anything I'm thinking. They’re better suited for helping the game from outside.”

That's a lie. And an insult to your abilities as a sorcerer! Your mouth opens in a “hey wait-”

“You shouldn't argue with someone older than you,” Megumi says, “even if they are your brother.”

There have been very few moments in your life where you’ve been inclined to hit a child. This is one of them.

“He has a point. Besides,” says James, “if you step into that barrier, I’ll kill you myself.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Itadori shift his weight from foot to foot. A certain uncomfortable silence falls over the group.

“Wait!” Yuji shoots to his feet. “Maybe Fushiguro and I shouldn't be together.”

Because of Sukuna…

Fushiguro mumbles something along the lines of “oh shut up” under his breath. Though he’s quiet with his words, they’re clear enough for everyone to hear them. Yuji’s face falls into shock, before turning to anger as he asks the other boy to repeat himself.

“Don't be so self-centered,” says Meguimi, casting a glare in the other boy’s direction, “our senpai can’t change their roles.”

The two continue to bicker, until Panda eventually steps in, scolding them for doing such.

Hakari and Panda are the first two to enter the barrier. A Kogane appears, repeating the same lines the other one did: “Hi! I'm a Kogane! Inside this barrier, a lethal contest called the culling game has begun! Step inside and you too can become a player! Are you willing to enter?”

Their responses are a simple “yes” before they step into the barrier.

Yuji offers his hand out to the other boy, and he takes it. “Ready?” He asks. And Megumi nods.

“Hey Yuji- I realize this might not mean much,” you say, “but I have faith in you guys. And at the very least, Gojo will know how to fix this mess once he’s freed.”

Their hands part briefly as he turns to wave and say a simple “thanks!”

Megumi is the last of the four to step into the barrier, leaving you James and Kirara. That suffocating silence continues well on for over a minute. Your gaze drifts from Kirara, to your brother, then back to them before you speak up.

“Watch them open the prison realm and it's empty,” you say. The laugh that follows sounds far more nervous than you intend it to.

“Don't joke about that.” James says, swinging his fist into your shoulder. You clutch your arm, though his punch wasn't particularly hard.

“Why not?” You say with a scoff. “No one else is gonna do it. I can think of a million different ways this goes wrong.”

What if they can't get the prison realm open? What if something happens to Gojo while he’s inside? What if Gojo is trapped in there until the end of time?

Couldn't Kenjaku, in theory, cast the prison realm to the deepest depths of the ocean, leaving the currents and silt to bury it? There's how many miles of ocean floor? You could spend every minute of each day for the next century searching for him, and never find him.

Because we know more about the moon’s surface, than we do about our own oceans. All he’d have to do is head to some place—the Marianas trench, or whatnot—and toss it in. How would you get Gojo back then?

Without the front of the prison realm, there is no opening it. So if Kenjaku were to cast it aside—toss it into the deepest depths of the ocean, or cast it into some volcano where it’ll be impossible to fish him out—there would be no freeing Gojo. No Gojo means that you, and everyone you care about, are completely fucked.

“I'm counting on Geto still being alive in there.” James says, bringing his hand up to inspect his nails. “I could still sense his soul—it's not like it's missing. He's still rattling around in that skull, right alongside Kenjaku.”

“So Geto’s alive?” Asks Kirara.

You flinch at the sound of their voice. You forgot they were standing there.

“If you want to go by technicalities, then no, not really.” He says. “There's no brain activity on his end. Think of it like a brain transplant; if you’re medically brain dead, and someone who’s not medically brain dead gets theirs transplanted into your body, is that still technically you? Are you the brain, or the body?”

“The brain?” You say. But it comes out as more of a question, than an answer.

How would that even work? The human brain holds everything a person is, or once was, or ever will be. All your thoughts, your ideas, your memories. Without that, your body is simply a husk. Or does the soul exist outside of these two physical things? What truly makes your body yours in that case?

“I can only assume that what Geto’s dealing with is akin to being in a coma.” He continues. “Or maybe locked-in syndrome is a better word for it. He’s likely aware of what’s going on, but has no control over his body. But instead of not being able to move at all, he’s being puppeted.”

That sounds… awful. There's a million other fates you’d let happen to you, before you’d allow something like that. But then again, maybe Geto didn't get a say in it at all.

“You don't have to go in there, you know?” You say. “I've got some money saved up, we could catch the first flight out of this place. I don't know where we’ll go, but we can head anywhere. Just… say the word.”

The look in his eyes resembles something akin to pity. You’ve said it yourself, you’re in this too deep to back out now.

“I have an idea for how we can get sorcerers to move freely about barriers.” He says. “Or at the very least, get Fushiguro and Itadori out of the game. Why do you think I joined them with the string of fate?”

“You've been scheming this all along…”

“When I heard that players could add rules, it got me thinking. Gaining a hundred points by killing other players isn't going to be an easy feat, unless there's a rule allowing the exchanging of points between players,

“Once that's in place, then someone could put into play a rule about soulmates, allowing them to leave through the same exits civilians can, as long as they’re together,

“A means of communication needs to be established too. Not to mention a way for sorcerers to travel in and out of colonies. So it's a total of four hundred points to get the situation under control, plus another hundred if I’m to put this rule about soulmates in,

“If we’re to prioritize setting up communication, then we’d be able to sort out the remaining four rules by assigning them to specific people.”

He watches the slightest bit of a smirk tug at your lips.

“You would do pretty good as a freelance sorcerer, you know that right?” You say.

You try to imagine running jobs with him the same way you would with Nanami and Itadori. Training with him alongside the others. Taking on jobs, going after lower level curses. Nothing major, just cleaning up the scraps others leave behind. Maybe you’d get an apartment in Tokyo, and split the rent.

It wouldn't be anything glamorous. It’d probably be a hard life. You’d be working until the day you drop dead, and in your line of work, that could be any moment. But there's a certain simplicity to it that you crave. That purpose. It's how things should have been.

You think he and Gojo are more similar than he’d like to admit. And you’re not certain if that’d make them hate each other more, or less.

"You know," James says, "I never understood jujutsu society. Fuck I hate it. All those pretentious bastards, parading themselves around like they're better than us. There are no good sorcerers,

"Nobody in this is good,

"Haven't you seen the way they treat people like us? The way they view us as less than human?

"I don't understand why you're so invested in saving something that wants you dead! I'd understand it if it was for the betterment of humanity, but it isn't. Humans would be better off with no sorcerers or curses at all."

“Jujutsu society exists to protect those who can't use it.” You say. “A society like it should work to protect the weak, and keep those who are strong in line. But me? I guess my job here is to fight curses.”

It's hard to say you believe it, when all you’ve seen is the opposite. Maybe you don't believe that Jujutsu society does anything good. Then what?

You’re here, and you have the abilities to exorcise cursed spirits, so you might as well. If nothing other than to give yourself purpose, and something to do.

He laughs, like you’re making a joke, only for his expression to drop when he realizes you aren't.

“You don't really believe that, do you?” He asks. “Tell me how that makes sense to you. Tell me how this culling game does anything to protect the civilians trapped within it?! Sorcerers are sick! They're all sick! You’ve seen this firsthand!”

His hands find your shoulders as he shakes you violently.

"Because I'm selfish." You say. “Might I remind you you're the one who told me there's no redemption for people like us. That death is the closest we’ll get to such a concept. I chose to go out with a weapon in hand. And I will simply fight.”

“There is no use fighting if no one will fight on your side.” He says. “The world of sorcerers doesn't give a shit about people like us! If you’re not part of one of their top clans, then you’re not even human to them! All they care about is power!”

“So you’re suggesting I just roll over and die?!” You say. “I will fight for my side! Don't you get that?!” Who else is going to fight for you, if not yourself?

He lets you go with a shove, fists clenched at his side. He stands on the balls of his feet, hands lifted slightly, as if he wants to swing.

You don't think the coward has it in him to hit you.

“What you’re going to do,” he says, “is cross the sea of Japan over into Korea- I’ve got some friends over there. They’ll get you a plane ticket home, or wherever the hell you’re gonna go. Just pick a place and choose it,

“Find Choso. Run off with him. Settle down. Have a bunch of kids for all I give a shit—

“But you are not dying here.”

“I don't want children if their playground is going to be built upon a graveyard!” You say. You don't mean to yell it, but it comes out all at once, and there's no stopping it.

Having children has never been a dream of yours. Settling down and having a family never had the same appeal as being on your own. You're not entirely opposed to the thought of having children, but you’re not having them while you’re still a sorcerer. Really, you have no real desire to do something extraordinary with your life. You have no vested interest in making some great change in the world. You simply want your own corner of it, where you can live on your own, unbothered.

At this he nods. What was once anger, has turned to exhaustion. It's finally dawning upon you how prominent the bags under his eyes are.

"It seems this is it," he says.

"So it seems," you say.

He takes a step towards the barrier, and a Kogane appears, repeating the same line as the first two.

"I wish we had more time to hang like this.” You say.

He nods, letting out a small laugh. “We’ll have plenty of time when this mess is under control. This won't be the last time I kick your ass, trust me.”

Awful brave words from a man who’s pushing thirty. But you keep that thought to yourself.

“So any last regrets?” You ask.

To say he's caught off guard by your question would be an understatement. You witness the flicker of recognition behind his eyes.

“If you're expecting me to go on this long rant about how I would have done things differently with my life, you're sorely mistaken. Now isn't the time for regrets,” he says, “but, I do have one:

“That it wasn't me who broke the window.” He mashes the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. "When you get home, will you do something for me?"

"Yeah, sure,"

"Just take care of my cat."

“I can do that.” you say with a nod.

It feels wrong to say goodbye. Like it's bad luck. You’ve never been a particularly superstitious person, but little things like this become a habit. You can't help it. When you’re staring death right in the eyes on the daily, you tend to pick a deity and pray.

"Hey, who knows," he says with a shrug, "maybe I'll come back to curse your sorry ass."

"You better." You say. "Least you could do is curse me a little in the end,

"But, I guess this is it. So, I'll see you on the other side."

Again, he laughs. You swear you can see something akin to sorrow behind his eyes. He takes in a deep breath, but the action provides little relief.

"There is no other side," he says, "this is it."

[remaining time until Tsumiki must declare participation in the culling game: 7 days, 12 hours]

[quicksilverrwrites]

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: peter maximoff x reader 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: it’s your first date with peter maximoff, and the tension between the two of you has been building for weeks. you share a passion like no other, and there's only one place this date can go: the dark back alley of the arcade, a place where no soul dare to go lest they bare the damned title of 'staff'. or quicksilver and scribe, i guess. you pick. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.4k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+, sexual innuendos, peter and reader are early to mid twenties, british reader (sorry americans <3), make out scene and sexual attraction 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: the character that features as y/n in my fics is known by the mutant name “scribe” and is charles xavier’s niece.

Your date with Peter comes around the corner faster than you thought it would considering you’re not exactly the typical ‘student’ at Xavier’s School.

You’d thought it would take forever for the week to pass: typically, you spend your time waiting for your friend group to get out of lessons. You’re older, having graduated school when you lived in the United Kingdom, so the only lessons you attend are that of Power Efficiency, Mutant Physiology and Ethics, the latter two being optional and studied merely out of interest. The rest of your schedule consists of a lot of free time. You don’t work—with all the money you have, why would you? Uncle Charles keeps nagging you to do something with your time, something productive, but after what you went through in England with your father…

Making friends here was difficult enough. Dealing with your powers in a new situation—coming to this school—was enough. You’re not exactly an extrovert, either, which is why you’re so surprised that you and Peter click so well.

He’s eccentric and annoying and perfect. Okay, perhaps not perfect in a literal sense, but to you he is. Sure, his leather jacket kind of smells from age and sometimes he talks so fast that you find yourself struggling to keep up, but you find it endearing. And oh, those eyes—you could watch how they light up when he’s super excited about something forever, you think.

He’s the best thing that’s happened to you in a while. You wonder if Charles knew what he was doing when he made Peter your buddy upon your arrival at this institute, but in reality, you know it’s because you’re both the oldest students—almost-students?—at this school. Besides, Charles has seen the two of you work together as a chaotic duo, and you’ve heard the sighs and mutterings of the man when he’s been most exasperated because of the both of you. Why, you think, grinning at your reflection in the mirror, would he ever put himself through that chaos if he could avoid it? The first prank you articulated together was the beginning of many, and you’ve practically been inseparable since you first arrived here.

First it was friendship. Then… yeah, it didn’t take much at all to blossom into something more.

You look good, you think, smoothing down Peter’s Rush tee as it hangs oversized on your body. You look really good. Your style is what would be expected of Charles’ niece even despite the fact that you’ve only ever met him a few times in your life: classy, 10% preppy, academic to a fault. You typically match your clothes to the colour of your powers: blue, but azure in particular. Sometimes pastel blue. You’re particular like that. But tonight you’ve opted for something different. Something a little more… Peter.

Your hair falls naturally past your shoulders, and the cool sleeves of a black leather jacket—your father’s leather jacket, the only leather jacket you own—hang from your shoulders while the jacket itself stops at your thighs. It's too big for you. You’ve paired a black skirt with the shirt, but it’s free flowing and a soft material that practically blends in with Peter’s top. Your boots are chunky platforms, black, and this is the darkest your outfit has been in a while.

It still feels… you, though. It feels right. Maybe because Peter feels right, and you stole this tee from him after you stayed over that night in his basement when it was pouring with rain. You both knew you could’ve opened up a portal to get back to your dorm, but neither of you wanted that.

You both want this, though. You both want each other.

The very acknowledgement of that fact forces you to take a steadying breath in, but the sound of a knock at your door makes your breath stammer. You look at the clock frantically. Is he here already? You both agreed on seven thirty, and it’s only seven. You had a schedule. Arcade, dinner, and whatever was left for after. Maybe a kiss if you work up the courage. Your heart hammers in your chest at the thought. But—

“Ah—hello?” A familiar voice sounds from the door. You breathe a sigh of relief: Kurt. “I came to see if you needed help with anyzi—”

You cross the room to the door and open it before Kurt can finish his sentence.

Kurt grins. As usual it’s a sheepish grin, but there is excitement in his eyes.

“Excited?” Kurt asks. “I vould be if I vere going on a date with ze magnificent Quicksilver.”

You grin at him and roll your eyes, ushering him in the room before you close the door behind you. “Don’t say that in the hallway!” You scold him, not entirely serious. “Anyone could be listening.”

Kurt raises his eyebrows. “Could it be that you are embarrassed?”

Your eyes widen, brows rising too. “No! It’s just—it’s nice now that things between us are private. And… I want to take things slow. I’ve been on dates before, and when you tell people about it it’s always the same thing: when are you going to do this? When are you going to do that? I don’t want to be pressured. And explaining my reasoning to want to take things slow is almost as tiring as actually working myself up into confidence so that I’m not nervous the entire time—”

“You definitely seem nervous.”

You scowl at your friend. “I am not nervous.”

“Your cheeks are red.”

At that, you know your face is starting to flush as red as a tomato. “You are insufferable sometimes.”

Kurt grins. “A few weeks ago, I vould have been hurt to hear you say this.”

You scoff, batting him playfully on the arm. “Are you going to walk me down to the common room or not?”

Kurt’s face takes on an air of confusion. “Ze common room? Why there?”

You shrug softly. “Peter is meeting me there.”

Kurt’s eyes light up with amusement. “Ah,” he responds, and you know by the exaggerated upwards tilt of his head that the next words out of his mouth are going to be sarcastic. “Very discreet, yes. I bet he will bring flowers.”

You scoff once more, parting your lips in playful annoyance as you turn to leave the room, but Kurt appears in front of you before your hand reaches the doorknob. He opens the door, extends his hand to you when his back is pressed against it, and the bow he delivers is nothing but formal. Gentlemanly. He probably learned it in the circus. You give him a teasingly formal nod as you accept his fingers in your own.

The door closes behind you, locks with a wave of your hand, and with a deep breath, the two of you venture down the halls of the manor.

***

You hear the sounds of people cursing at Peter before you actually see Peter.

You and Kurt turn to look at the double doors which lead into the common room at the same time, but Peter comes to a speedy stop in front of the both of you before you can even track his movements… and Peter’s eyes glaze over your appearance, your outfit, as his face pales.

You smirk at the sight of it. You know he likes it. Likes seeing you in his clothes. He looked at you the same way when you first walked out of the bathroom attached to the basement in his tee and grey shorts after that night in the rain. He had slept on the sofa then, had given you his bed, but he’d mentioned to you a couple of days after that his sheets still smelled like a mix of him and you.

You knew then that he couldn’t get the image of you wearing his clothes out of his head.

His outfit isn’t a change from what he usually wears, but he still looks amazing. Hot. The sight of him takes your breath away every time you see him. Silver-and-black jacket, white tee with a band insignia on it, and leather pants with his silver shoes. You can’t forget the goggles on his head, either. But—wait, no, there is something different. A sort of smell.

“What are you wearing?” You ask, the end of your sentence tinged with laughter.

Peter glances down at his outfit. “What?” He asks, confusion—and the slightest bit of worry?—in his gaze. “What's wrong with this?”

“No, silly,” you laugh, “your aftershave. What is it?”

It’s the very definition of seventies musk. It’s musky, leathery, and there’s the faintest smell of whiskey. He’s put way too much on, but your mother always used to complain about how much perfume you put on, too. You’re wearing it now: it’s sweet with the air of something more expensive. Valentino.

When you asked the lady in the store to let you try the ones which smelled sweet like vanilla, this was the first one she showed you. Out of the eight you had the choice of, you were sold on the very first one. You know that the best way to get a guy to fall for you is to smell sweet like candy—it reminds them of their childhood. Or in Peter’s case, you guess it might just remind him of twinkies. You know he loves those.

Peter’s cheeks flush red, and he lowers his head as he laughs. “Oh, man. My mom was right. I really stink, huh?”

You can’t help but laugh: a genuine laugh, teeth in your smile and all. You stand from the sofa you were sitting on with Kurt, and you realise only then that he’s already disappeared. You feel a twinge of guilt for not noticing earlier, but you forgive yourself for that: it is your date night, and Kurt is forever polite.

“You smell great, Peter,” you say, and it’s not entirely a lie. He doesn’t smell bad — it’s better than the leather jacket smell. “And I’m excited for our,” you glance around, whispering, “date.”

Peter’s eyes light up at that. “Right. Date. You mind if I—?”

He gestures to your neck. Whiplash. Right. You shake your head. “Just don’t mess up my hair.”

He blinks at you. “Do you realise how much of a challenge that is?”

Your smile is sickly sweet and riddled with sarcasm. “You’ll figure it out.”

His expression goes slack. He likes it when you do that; when you’re mean to him. You’re a lovely person typically—you reached the lucky end of the trauma spectrum, the opposite of which being the angry side which could’ve made you an arse—but it’s so easy to tease Peter. You like the power in being able to wrap him around your finger. You’ve never had this power over any man before, and after feeling powerless for so long, it's thrilling.

Peter clears his throat, steps towards you, and you swear he’s trying to use the lightest touch possible as he steadies your neck and places a shaky hand on your waist—

And then you’re off.

The world is barely more than a blur. You can’t keep up. Just as you think you’ve gotten used to it, Peter turns a corner—or at least you think that's what happens, because that’s how you would describe the sensation of being almost jolted to the side. And just when you think you can’t take any more, he stops. You’re in the mall, right outside the blue-walled and darkly lit arcade.

Peter’s hands move gently from your body and you lean your hands against your thighs to try to stop the world from spinning. You’ve gotten used to the nauseating feeling this sort of travel gives you now, but you’re not used to the dizziness.

“You okay?” Peter asks, and you can see out of the corner of your eye that he’s assessing you for any potential damage. His hand hovers over your back as if he’s afraid to overstep his bounds, but you would lean into his touch any day.

“Yeah,” you breathe, slowly easing upwards. “I’m good.”

Peter glances over your face in another silent check before he nods. “You ready to get your ass kicked?”

You gape at him. Yeah, that sarcastic comment has knocked the dizziness right out of you. “Oh, you’re on.”

You’re less confident than you seem, but you don’t think Peter picks up on it as he grins and bouncily makes his way into the Arcade. You follow him, shoulder brushing against his as you catch up to his gait, because luckily you both walk fast. He turns to look at you and smiles, softer this time, and you almost get caught up in the softness of his eyes before your heart stammers, your throat closes up, and—

Oh, god. You’re not good with this. The romance. It makes you tense and nervous.

You turn away from him, hands wrapping around the controls of the nearest arcade game. “I call shotgun.”

Peter laughs and comes to a stop next to you. “I know you’re British and that makes you, like, socially awkward, but that only applies to cars.”

You nudge him in the side—hard, but not hard enough to really do damage. He hisses in annoyance, muttering jeez, lady, under his breath. You ask, “Are you really going to deny me my request on our date?”

Peter grins at you, fingers clenching around the neighbouring controls. “Depends. What do I get out of it?”

You smirk at him, your heart fluttering in your chest. “A kiss or two at the end of this, perhaps.”

You watch Peter’s adam’s apple bob. “Per—perhaps?”

You grin. “Depends how you behave.”

You don’t need to read thoughts like your uncle to know that Peter has to be telling himself to breathe. Because it seems like an awful lot of effort for him to successfully inhale and exhale, and he doesn’t say anything before he slams a coin—a quarter? you don’t understand American money—into the machine and the BEGIN GAME screen buzzes to life.

It’s pretty hard for you to catch your breath as you both play in silence, too.

Eventually, conversation picks back up again. A sarcastic comment. The occasional compliment. Peter’s good at these games, but so are you. Arcade stand after arcade stand, his teasing remarks make your heart flutter… as well as something deeper within you, too. You’ve never felt attraction like this before, and truthfully, it’s driving you wild.

“Dad wasn’t around much back home,” you reveal, your eyes glued to the avatar on the screen as it darts around, “so I had a lot of time to kill. The arcade became my home. So yeah, it’s safe to say I can easily kick your arse.”

“Arse,” he teases, mimicking the way you speak. “Trying to let me let you win with a sob story, Xavier? Nah, not going to work.”

You gape at him, taking your eyes off the screen for a mere second, but Peter takes the opportunity to kill your avatar for good. With mock outrage, you quip, “I was not trying to do that!”

He grins at you, his eyes glowing purple and red in the light of your dying avatar. “Ah,” he whispers, “victory tastes sweet.”

You press your lips together in defeat, and then you sigh as you take your hand in his. “Come on. I want a slushie.”

Peter lets you drag him away, and the two of you settle down at the food stand in the arcade as the lights around you buzz blue and purple.

You like the lighting in here, you think, as you step up to the worker. “Two slushies, please,” you tell him, smiling politely. “One red and blue for me, and Peter—?”

“All of them,” he says, nodding towards the flavours.

You part your lips in surprise. All of them? There are about eight flavours up on that display, and you know it’s all going to melt into a mess of slush that barely tastes like anything other than sugar. But the worker has obviously been asked for worse, because he just shrugs and gets to work. One pump, two pumps, three pumps—he goes through them all with the finesse of someone who has worked at a place like this for far too long, and when he hands you your simple two-flavoured slushie in comparison to Peter's complex one, you feel like a bit of a slushie fraud.

You go to reach into your pocket to grab your card, but Peter pays in cash before you can get it out. The cashier gives him a dollar and seventy two cents change, and your date nods in thanks to the cashier before he turns to you with a grin that’s more genuine than cheeky. “My treat.”

You lower your gaze to hide how wide your smile is as you laugh. “Thanks, Peter.”

He nods, and the two of you stand there awkwardly for a second, you sucking innocently on your straw as he stares at you, before he looks at the table and chairs nearby. He clears his throat. “Wanna sit?”

You shrug politely and he pulls out a chair for you. Gentleman. Did his mother give him a run-down of what to do and what not to do before he came here? Probably. You smile at him, your insides warming as you sit down in your seat. This slushie is good, you think, slurping it up through the straw as Peter takes a seat opposite you.

He takes a sip of his drink before he asks, “So the thing about your dad. I know it’s a sore subject considering…” He raises his brows, and you know he means the reason you came here. “But do you mind if I—?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. You have too much slushie in your mouth, though, so your words are slurred and you smile bashfully as you cover your lips. Sorry, your look says, but he just grins at you.

Peter forces himself to look away, to turn serious again, as he scratches at a loose bit of film on the table. “Why wasn’t he around? Like, the deadbeat dad kind of thing, or…?”

You shake your head. This time, when you speak, you’ve cleared the slushie from your mouth. Your voice is a bit hoarse from the cold as you respond, “No. He worked a lot. He was either in Germany or the Middle East or—somewhere. Mom has a temper, so I found the arcade was a better place to be than home. It’s easy to lose yourself in the games here.”

Peter nods slowly, his head tilting up in a way that indicates thoughtfulness. It’s nice that he’s memorising your words. Nice that he actually cares. That means more to you than anything. “Well, that makes two of us. Absent fathers, I mean, and moms…?”

You grin at him. He's talked about his father before, but always in vague detail. You respond, “Almost-there moms. Just emotionally absent, at least for me. Maybe stunted is the right word.”

Peter lets out a sound between a noise like phew and a laugh. “Harsh, Y/N. No sugarcoating it there.”

You shrug softly, lowering your gaze to your drink. “Sometimes I wonder if…”

Your sentence trails off, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Peter tilt his head. But he doesn’t say anything. Just lets you take your time as he continues picking at the table.

You force a breath. “Sometimes I wonder if what happened… happened for the best. Between the three of us, nobody was happy. But then I think of what I did to him and it’s just—”

“Hey,” Peter says, and across the table, his hand reaches out to splay across yours. “For people like us—mutants,” he says, his tone lowering at the end of his sentence, “stuff like this is inevitable. But, uh… Charles has kinda helped me see that it’s the first step towards controlling this sort of thing. The first step to doing something better. And hell, Y/N, you’re already, like, rockin’. So you only have further to go.”

Your brows furrow in surprise at his words, your eyes turning doe-like at his reassurances. “You don’t think I’ve already hit rock bottom?”

Peter laughs. “You’ve got too much money for that. I've seen you blow two-fifty on curtains. Still don't know how I watched you do it."

You let out a laugh, and that’s when you properly acknowledge the skin to skin contact. His touch makes your body feel like it’s on fire. Your shoulders roll back as your thumb brushes against his knuckle, and Peter’s eyes dart down to your fingers before he looks right back up at you. He looks nervous, like his heart is thudding just as hard as yours.

“I like this,” you whisper. “Thank you.”

Peter lets out a huff of laughter, though from the sound of it, it’s an attempt to hide his nerves. “It’s only a slushie, Xavier."

Your laughter mimics his own, and you press your lips together as your eyes dart between his eyes and lips. You want to kiss him. You’ve never wanted to kiss somebody more. It’s like you could push him up against the wall and kiss him here and now without caring what anybody thinks, and you’ve never had that feeling before.

Peter’s throat bobs again. He’s staring at you in the same way, and you can feel the tension between the two of you as your chest tightens. But you can’t kiss here—not with the table between you, not when one of you will probably spill a slush puppy or both of them, or—

“Another game?” Peter says, his voice hoarse.

You blink the lust out of your eyes. Another game. Yeah—another game, and your slush puppy will melt between and it’ll be easier to drink, and then—

And then you can both get out of here.

You’ve never wanted to leave an arcade more.

The tension cools down a little as you play more games, but it rises as soon as you make a comment about his frantic button mashing movements; something like—

“I hope that’s not the technique you use in bed,” you tease.

Peter chokes, and needless to say, you win that game.

You keep playing until your slushies are finished. Peter finishes his before you, but he lets you have a sip before in order to try it. It’s just as you expected—a sugary mess with the strongest flavour being lime. It’s disgusting, but Peter merely grins at the sight of your face as you grimace at its sour taste.

You’re well aware of the way his gaze rakes up and down your body as you try to finish the rest of your slushie as fast as you can. You’re lingering now; the two of you want to get out of here, dinner be damned. His gaze hugs the curve of your body and lingers on your bare legs, your skin smooth and shaven, the boots you wear only elongating them—

“You look great, by the way,” Peter comments.

You look up at him while still sipping from that straw, and apparently the motion and the eye contact is too much for him. He looks away and mutters something under his breath, something you can’t hear over the beeping of the games and the music playing over the sound effects.

You slam the slushie cup down on the table next to you both with an air of achievement. “What?” You say almost teasingly. You know you’re driving him insane, and even though you’re hardly doing anything, this has been building up for weeks.

“Nothing,” Peter says.

Before you know it, his hand is at your neck and you’re in a different spot entirely.

It’s a short journey this time so you’re not dizzy. You’re still in the arcade, surrounded by the same blue walls and purple-hued lighting. But this area is darker and tucked away, and there’s a door nearby. Probably a staff entrance. This is somewhere you shouldn’t be, but for once, you’re not afraid of breaking the rules.

“The cups,” you comment teasingly. “We should clean them up.”

Peter lets out a breath. “Y/N,” he says, “I—"

“Kiss me,” you blurt out. “Please.”

Peter wastes no time in fulfilling your request.

He’s on you in a heartbeat, lips pressed against yours as his fingers rest at your neck. Innocent, sweet, and yet filled with a sort of passion that sets your lungs and chest ablaze. You can’t help the noise of content that slips from your lips as he backs you up against the wall, and you can’t help but think that this is so unlike him, but—no. No, this is what he’s been keeping buried down for weeks. It's the same for you, too. This is what he’s wanted to do to you for a while now.

This is only half of what he’s wanted to do to you for a while now.

You gasp as his tongue slips out against yours, and your own darts out in response to the sensation. You press your body flush into his, the both of you heated and warm from the feel of one another, and your jacket is quickly getting too hot to keep on any longer. It’s cool in here with the air conditioning, but even so the two of you are ablaze and alive and—

“Y/N” Peter whispers against your lips, his nose brushing against yours as he pants for breath, “d’you think we could leave dinner for tonight?”

Your body talks for you before your mind can register what he says. "Yes," you breathe, and then you pull him back to you.

His lips are on yours and there is nothing either of you need to say as his fingers roam down your shoulders, your arms, moving to your waist. He avoids your breasts and you’re grateful for that; despite how much your body might burn for him, you know that would make you feel like an object, like he only wants you for sex—like your mother has told you countless times before.

But as you and Peter kiss in the belly of that arcade, you think you might have found the one. The first person you can finally trust.

It might be the first date and you might want to take things slow, but this feels too good to pass up. Too good to lose. And because of that, you don't plan on letting him go—

Not unless he wants you gone first.

Not until a member of staff kicks you guys out, at least.

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

Accidental Feminist Icon

Between my own headcanon Barba becomes a very niche viral celebrity for being a mix of feminist icon giving one liners on the news and handsome/well dressed and the DJ Khaled post, this happened. 

“Counsellor, are you listening?” Olivia asked as Rafael Barba looked at his phone again. It had been months now since he started trying Manhattan SVU’s cases, and she hadn’t seen him this distracted before. 

“I just- why do I have rapid fire Twitter notifications? Over one hundred and fifty?”

“You have Twitter?” He rolled his eyes, not proud of the admission. But he liked to follow politics and music and satire. His colleagues would have discourse on legal proceedings and theory. But when he opened his notifications, the sea of professional headshots making up the icons in his notifications window were replaced by cartoon avatars and selfies. Handles like @Bradley_GreedADA were replaced with @feministkilljxy. 

What was happening?

Why were there GIFs of him now?

“Rafael?” He was snapped back to attention by Olivia’s hand passing over his phone screen, and he shook his head, holding the screen out to her. “What am I looking at?”

“Why have a couple hundred- are these all teenagers?”

“Are they following you? Or tagging you?”

“Both?” He scrolled through the mentions.

“Both.” A questioning look.

“Have I gone viral?” he asked herr, eyes wide and his tone disgusted. Twitter was where he posted law books, nice dinners out, homemade dinners in, and the nicer scotch he drank. Sometimes even pictures of himself; some of his friends enjoyed fashion as well, and their twitters all had a heavy thread of their suspenders and ties. Suddenly, he was having photos he’d posted to flaunt his ability to mix patterns retweeted in appreciation of something more than the color scheme.

“I think you have. What have you said now?”

“The girl whose tweet I keep getting tagged in mentioned Jocelyn Paley and the Adam Caine case.”

“That was seven months ago.”

“I’m very aware. I have to get to the office. I’ll get you that warrant.”

He continued to scroll as he walked, alarmed by the number of followers he was gaining and going to open a direct message from a friend to see a wall of messages from names he didn’t know. Once he was able to find Bradley’s message, he saw it was series of tweets with videos and GIFs of him on the courthouse steps. They were all from the same case, he assumed the Adam Caine case. He clicked the video of he and Rita Calhoun.

All I can say, today's Grand Jury indictment is the first step towards achieving justice for Jocelyn Paley. 

The DA's office is desperately trying to distract from their recent scandal with a high-profile case. 

Don't give me that--whether you're a john in the South Bronx or a $3-million-a-year talk show host, no means no. 

 He could remember the exchange now, and it had apparently been retweeted thousands of times. Cameras always made him determined to distract, determined to drive home a point. And now, he was seeing some group of teenagers had clung on to his words, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about becoming recognized enough by that demographic to warrant this rapidly increasing follower count. 

“Carmen, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Mr. Barba. Need coffee?”

“No,” he said plainly, shaking his head and showing her his feed. “Is this normal?”

“They found you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Haven’t you seen the posts?”

“I don’t branch out on Twitter often.”

“I see it mostly, like, on Instagram with captions and people post clips of you on vine.”

“What’s vine?”

“A six second video app. Teenagers and young women post you. Vine is normally comedy. But people are obsessed with you. Niche, but sizable number. I think it’s mostly New York girls who see you on the news. But that means the vines went viral a couple months ago.”

“So now they’re all following me on Twitter?”

“You’re viral for being attractive, dressing well, and prosecuting rapists. Embrace it.”

“I can’t post my clothes anymore.”

“Just continue like usual. Don’t respond to DMs.”

He spent a few weeks terrified of this new following, but after three days, things calmed down. The number of followers he gained was weird and confusing to him, and he decided to listen to Carmen ultimately, keeping the profile the same and pretending nothing had happened. She did stop him one day, showing him that there had been people making fake accounts, yet another thing that was insane to him. She primarily told him because these accounts were attempting to take advantage of the fact young girls were the ones following him. He awkwardly slid the handles to Olivia, and Carmen filled out an application for Twitter verification that left him mortified. Even worse, it was approved. 

He was swept away in a case soon enough. Lindsay was assaulted by a whole fraternity at Hudson. They uncovered a previous victim in a hospital, a fraternity known for being a rape factory, and a dean helping create a culture that buried these attacks. It was becoming higher profile than he expected, and it wasn’t easy to try. He’d had to shut off his notifications on his phone during these cases. When Lindsay committed suicide, he accompanied Rollins when she went to arrest the dean. What he didn’t expect was for two of the women they saw to approach him, asking if they were here about Lindsay and thanking them when he said he couldn’t mention it. Then they asked for a selfie. Rafael was mortified but obliged. 

“We recognize you from Twitter.”

Well, now he knew he needn’t accompany the squad out anymore.

When he got tweets from the kind of scum that supported the fraternity, it took a concerted effort not to respond. That could jeopardized the case. He’d already had to tell the two girls they couldn’t post about him being there. He tweeted a disclaimer for if people saw him out, feeling like an asshole. Twitter was now becoming a liability, but he could balance it and refused to give up the feed. Slowly, the GIFs and stills of him on the news were collected, and he only got embarrassed again when mami’s students had discovered him and realized he was the guy in their principal’s pictures. Now Mami had a Twitter, and she followed people who praised him joyfully, though he’d managed to convince her not to interact in private messages or respond to people insulting him. 

The Jenna Miller case caused another leap in his follower count, and he had developed a little sense of pride instead of embarrassment when his followers jumped from people who mattered in New York to people who mattered elsewhere. A congresswoman from Ohio. Artists. Activists. He’d texted Olivia when Lady Gaga followed him. Plus that woman from True Blood. God, she was beautiful. Plus the hot boybander that had probably made him realize he was bisexual. It was weird, and he was unwilling to publicly acknowledge any of it. Unless they were on twitter, he certainly didn’t tell anyone he knew other than Olivia. Soon enough, someone had made a t-shirt on Etsy of the moment he’d turned on his heel. The media had called after Jenna, the olympian, and he’d told them no questions. Then the had the gall to bring up her sex work. He’d stopped on the steps, turning on his heel and announcing “Except for that one. Paid or not paid, no means no. Consent can be revoked at any time.” And now, Etsy users were profiting on it. This group was niche, but it ran deep. Luckily, he noticed the shop only had a few dozen sales.

Everything was fine until Rafael Barba lost his ability to maintain his composure. Up until now, he’d monitored his name, mentions, and a few hashtags people used with him. It was usually just the GIFs and stills and soundbites. He participated in some banter after the first couple of years, boundaries firm enough he felt he could. But he still didn’t bicker. Carmen said he got a following for being a good guy, and he thought it was gross openly condemning rape seemed to be all it took to be a good guy. But then through his lurking, Rafael Barba saw a tweet about DJ Khaled. He’d had to google who the hell that was, unsure who all of Twitter was piling onto, but he found the tweet objectionable enough to respond.

“Mr. Barba,” Carmen said, eyes sparkling with amusement as she came in to see her boss still scrolling through his phone. “You really decided this is the time to get involved on Twitter? You only ever respond to what people say to your stuff or your friends.”

He should’ve known she’d be on top of it. He’d given her access when notifications went through the roof the second time, and Carmen helped filter through DMs he didn’t want to see. But now, that meant her phone was vibrating like his in response to his first tweet in response to a stranger or someone who wasn’t in a thread under his own post.

“What? I’m supposed to endorse consent but not enjoyment?”

“You’re going to end up in a Buzzfeed article, sir.”

“If this is my legacy, so be it.”

“Your legacy? Taking it seriously now?”

“This is serious.”

Carmen’s phone buzzed in her hand, and she knew he’d sent another tweet. Her own account got notifications so she could monitor him. She sighed heavily, unlocking the phone and looking at it. 

“Mr. Barba, does your mom know you’re bi?”

“No, why?”

“She follows you, idiot.”

“Shit. Well, I suppose it’s time.”

“If you tweet Smash Mouth, I’m quitting. These kids are already thirst tweeting you. They must have tweet notifications on for you.”

“Who’s Smash Mouth?”

“How the hell are you culturally relevant?”

“According to Liv, I’m a feminist icon.”

“Don’t get arrogant sir. I help run this twitter.”

“I’ll change the password. I do all the posting.”

“I won’t tell you if Evan Rachel Wood slides in your DMs.”

“Why would I care?”

“I know why you watched True Blood.”

“Touche.” He paused. “Do you think she will?”

“Give me the phone. I’ll bring it when Liv calls.”

“Why would she call?”

“She made a Twitter, sir. Followed you last week.”

“Shit,” he said, eyes wide. “I posted pictures of my food. She saw me acting like a Twitter guy.”

“You are a Twitter guy.”

He rolled his eyes, ending with a retweet of his new favorite addition to the conversation. 

@mia-liz @chasingeverybreakingwave @thegirlwiththemaleficient-tattoo​ @teachingpanda​

[nejibaby]

Time

Pairing: Sanji x F!Reader

Summary: Time is such an essential variable for a pirate cook like you. But outside cooking, you try your best not pay attention to it, most especially when it comes to the past. And yet because of the unpredictability of the Grand Line, you’ve come across someone from your past who you desperately wanted to forget. This incident makes you realize that despite how much time passes, sometimes feelings don’t really change.

Song reference/inspiration: Don’t You by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: It’s done! It’s finally done! I had this idea for quite some time now and I’m finally done with it. Imagine my relief. 😌 I liked how this turned out! But please let me know your thoughts about it… 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

There are a lot of oddities in the Grand Line. Among the concepts that are too complex to be explained are the drastic changes in the weather, the crazy magnetic fields of islands, and devil fruit powers.

What doesn’t change is the concept of time. In all technicality, time is what the clock reads. And regardless of your location inside or outside the Grand Line, it’s set on stone. There’s sixty seconds in a minute, sixty minutes in an hour, twenty four hours in a day, seven days in a week, and so on. It’s a fact that’s definitive, irrefutable, and beyond dispute.

And as a cook of the Kid Pirates, time is one of the essential variables, alongside temperature, in bringing dishes to life. That much you learned and mastered from the years you’ve been observing chefs in a certain restaurant in East Blue before you ran away to the South.

However, outside the kitchen — or to be more precise, outside cooking — you don’t pay too much attention to the time and dates, similar to your Captain, Kid.

You and your Captain would need Killer to inform you about preparing banquets and feasts for birthday celebrations for crew members, or to remind you of other important dates.

While you’re completely capable of keeping track of time, you didn’t want to and wouldn’t bother. What’s the point, really? It’s just that you didn’t want to be reminded of just how long since you ran away from the chefs who took you under their wing. You didn’t want to be reminded of just how long since you’ve last seen a certain curly-browed cook who you fell in love with but unfortunately got turned down from.

You’re entirely fine by saying it’s been a while since you’ve last seen those people. There isn’t any need to label a precise quantity of time since that moment in your life. It’s all in the past, and you have long learned to keep yourself busy so as not to be reminded of them in any way.

After all, remembering them always leads to pangs straight to your heart, and as a member of the Kid Pirates, it’s highly discouraged to wear your heart on your sleeve and show vulnerabilities like that.

Since leaving Baratie, you moved along with your life. You worked at a local restaurant in South Blue and somehow ended up meeting Kid and Killer. With Eustass Kid being impressed with your skills in the kitchen and the air of authority you exude while working, he demanded you join their crew. And in all honesty, it didn’t take too much convincing on their part as you too wanted to travel the world, and perhaps find All Blue, a dream you shared with the man you fell in love with.

Pledging loyalty to Eustass Kid is one of the decisions you could never regret. Ever since joining the crew, they have become masters of being subtle in their ways of showing they all care for you. And it’s only evident by the way they’re all overprotective of you (even if you’ve pretty much mastered self defense and the art of using a gun) simply because among the group of brutes, you looked like a lone flower — splendid, precious, and delicate. And due to that, traveling the seas with the Kid Pirates is particularly enjoyable for you; dangerous, sure, but enjoyable nonetheless.

On account of the unpredictability of the Grand Line; more precisely the New World, you have learned to always be ready to face anything. But maybe you aren’t as prepared as you thought you are.

Because somehow, in between gathering food supplies alone for the crew and fighting against a group of Marines who found you, you came face to face with the cook you desperately wanted to forget.

And to make matters much worse, when you quite literally bumped into him, you’ve already been shot twice by the Marines, leading you to lose your consciousness right in his arms.

For some reason, with how huge the Grand Line is, you have never taken into consideration the probability of meeting him once again. And this unpreparedness unsettles you right away. So when you wake up in the Straw Hats’ sailing ship, all bandaged up and weak from the loss of blood, you’re quick to show hostility as a defense mechanism.

But that facade doesn’t last long, your mask easily slipping after a day with the crew, showing your naturally gentle and sweet side to everyone except to a certain man named Sanji. Ultimately, it’s quite impossible for you to remain hostile and aggressive in the presence of such nice and hospitable characters, especially when they kindly offered to drop you off to the next island and allowed you to contact Kid to let him know about your predicament.

You do, however, isolate yourself from the Straw Hats as much as possible. The only time you allow yourself to be in everyone’s presence is during meal times. As a chef, you know well enough that food is at its best when served right away and eaten in the presence of company.

But you aren’t dumb. You know the dishes served by Sanji aren't purely coincidental. With just one look at the table, you could easily recognize all of your favorite meals — meals that reminded you of the days when you had fallen in love with him. It’s blatantly obvious that some of the foods on the table are made especially for you.

This is where your reservations come in. After all, the reason why your favorite foods were your favorites was because they’re what Sanji used to cook when you’re upset. And because of your feelings for him, the food would always make your heart full and happy. And to be honest, you didn’t want to remember that feeling.

Moreover, you didn’t want to give Sanji the impression that everything’s fine between the two of you. You also didn’t want him to think that you’ve forgiven him for turning you down, and proceeding to step on your heart by letting you watch him flirt with other girls.

If you were any other person, you probably wouldn’t even touch the meals he made to prove these points. But you’re a cook, and it’s against your morals to let food come to waste. The most you can do so as not to give Sanji the upper hand is to stop yourself from eating as much as you usually would, regardless of how delicious the food is.

You can tell it’s working from the way Sanji’s lips are slightly downturned as he watches you only take a nibble of your favorites while consuming the other meals that are meant for the other crew members. This goes unnoticed by the others though; they’re too enamored with the new variety of dishes on the table to even pay attention.

This goes on for a few meal times, but you have to admit that despite only taking a few bites of the dishes you used to love, they’re still capable of bringing back the memories of your past with Sanji, maybe not in full force, but it’s enough to disconcert you.

On your third day with the Straw Hats, after seeing him fawn over Nami and Robin, the tension between you and Sanji becomes a little too overwhelming for you to the point where you feel the need to hide in the crow’s nest to calm yourself down.

When you get there, you’re surprised yet relieved that Zoro isn’t there. You instantly take a seat facing the window. You relish the silence. But it’s only momentary, broken by the sound of someone knocking on the door.

Rude as it may be, you don’t acknowledge the person. Whoever it is still enters the room anyway.

“Y/N-chan, can we talk?”

You hate the way your heart starts wildly pounding again just by the mere sound of Sanji’s voice.

“I thought we’ve established the fact that I don’t want to talk to you,” you respond coldly.

This doesn’t discourage Sanji though. “If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. But will you please listen to me?”

You frown, but you remain silent. Sometimes, most especially at times like this, you wish you could hate him. But that’s just something you can’t do no matter how hard you try.

He takes your silence as a good sign, so he sits himself beside you.

You aren’t looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you. This lasts for a few minutes, Sanji just gazing at you without uttering a word.

You didn’t mean to count, but by the second minute of silence, you snap. “What? I thought you wanted to tell me something? Why aren’t you talking?”

He looks away and clears his throat. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just… it’s been five years since I last saw you.”

His statement takes you by surprise. Has it already been five years since you left Baratie? And more importantly, was Sanji keeping count?

For whatever reason, Sanji chuckles. He faces you once again and smiles, “It’s been five years but you still look as gorgeous and radiant as ever.”

As always, Sanji has a way with his words. The compliment makes your heart beat impossibly faster. But you know you shouldn’t fall for his words. “Sanji, don’t. Let’s not go there,” you say with a sigh.

He visibly deflates at your response. And it makes you want to take back what you’ve just said. “What have you been up to?” He tries asking, his voice low enough you almost don’t hear him, as if this conversation hurts him just as much as it pains you.

You didn’t really plan on responding. The agreement was to let Sanji do the talking and you do the listening, but you can see his sad expression in the corner of your eye and it tugs your heartstrings a little bit so you reply, “I’m a pirate now.”

“You are?” He perks up upon hearing you responding. “Who’s your captain?”

You finally face him, wanting to see his reaction. “Eustass Kid.”

His face instantly contorts into displeasure. “Kid?” He asks once again. When you nod your head, there’s a different look on his face, almost like he’s angry or he’s annoyed. “Why Kid? Don’t tell me he forced you to do it?! That bas—”

But before he could even finish his sentence, you pull out your gun and point it at his head.

He’s taken aback by your speed and the look of determination in your eyes.

“Watch your words, Sanji.” You cock your gun. “Just because we’re on speaking terms doesn’t mean I won’t shoot you. You can call me bad names if you want, break my heart like you did, but if you say one more bad thing about my captain, I won’t hesitate on putting a bullet through your head,” you threaten.

Sanji gulps, raises his hands in surrender, and nods his head.

Yet you pull the trigger anyway. Sanji could only close his eyes once he sees your finger move.

But there’s no impact at all. When he tentatively opens his eyes, he sees you putting away your gun in its previous location.

You’re well aware that you have no ammunition left, having used them all up when you fought the Marines, but sometimes even an unloaded gun is enough to intimidate and scare someone into submission, and to get your point across.

Silence envelopes the crow’s nest after that incident. Sanji isn’t afraid of you per se, he’s just a little bit surprised with the change in your attitude.

For a moment the thought of you having feelings for Kid passes through his mind, and he internally gets upset with the thought. In fact, he hates it but he doesn’t let it dissuade him from trying to make amends with you.

He allows you to have a couple more minutes of silence. But when he has decided that it’s time for him to talk, the first thing he blurts out is, “I missed you a lot when you left.”

His confession breaks something in you. You didn’t like the way you equally liked and hated hearing this from him. “Sanji, don’t…” your voice cracks and your vision blurs. “Don’t smile at me. Don’t ask me how I’ve been. Don’t you say you’ve missed me if you don’t want me. Don’t get my hopes up, because you don’t know how much I love you still. Just don’t…”

“Y/N-chan…” he calls out to you, his hand hesitantly reaching out to you. And when you don’t protest, he pulls you into a hug, rubbing his hands gently on your back.

Sanji hates seeing you like this — so defeated and broken, all because of him. He didn’t like seeing you cry. But right now he knows he needs to explain himself. “I liked you too back then…”

You pull away in shock after hearing his words, wiping the tears in your eyes. Just as you’re about to ask why he turned you down, he continues, “But the old geezer was against it. He says if I couldn’t stay loyal to you, then I’d only hurt you more and make matters worse.”

What Sanji was saying makes a lot of sense. Zeff highly respects women, which was why he couldn’t turn you away when you had nowhere else to stay. And knowing Sanji, you can tell just how much he looks up to him, despite him always talking back to the older chef. It’s only natural for him to heed Zeff’s words.

“I was young and I didn’t think I was ready yet, so I turned you down as gently as I could… and when you said it was fine, I was so relieved. But then you left without a word and I… I just… I really did miss you all these years.”

“What about now?”

“Huh?”

“Do you still… like me?” You ask meekly.

Sanji smiles, which makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. “I do, but…”

You sigh sadly, “But?”

He looks over the window, and you follow his gaze. The sight of Luffy being chased around by Usopp on the deck welcomes you. “My loyalty still lies elsewhere.”

You immediately understand what he’s trying to say, and for the first time since you arrived in the Thousand Sunny, you genuinely smile. “Someday, then?”

Sanji faces you once again, and reciprocates your smile. “Yeah. Someday.”

[ghostlywritten]

If Only I Had Stayed In The Shadows - Chapter Ten

James Potter x OC

Words: 4,8k

Prologue  Chapter One   Chapter Two  Chapter Three  Chapter Four  Chapter Five  Chapter Six  Chapter Seven  Chapter Eight  Chapter Nine

The break passed and life in Hogwarts continued in blissful peace for the next few months. At least for us students. Outside of the walls and grounds of Hogwarts, the situation was getting darker and darker each day. People went missing or were declared as dead, causing chills down our spines whenever the list grew longer with each newspaper.

I sighed, folding a piece of parchment that contained a letter from my parents about their well being. They were alright but had to take a lot of extra hours, giving how more and more muggleborn or halfblood wizards and witches were registered every day and night with the worst injuries at their hospital. Some - if not many - did not make it by the end of the next dawn. A hand snatched the letter from my hand and I glanced over at the messy-haired boy next to me as he unfolded it again. "Ever heard of privacy?" I asked and his eyes widenend in mock-astonishment, "No, what's that?"

His good mood evaporated slightly though after he skimmed the letter and an usually solemn expression graced his features instead. "Things are really getting worse everyday, aren't they?" he asked quietly, catching Sirius' attention from his other side.

"What's getting worse everyday?" he questioned, joining our conversation. Remus, Peter, Lily and Marlene looked up from their sheets as well. We were gathered together in the Common Room, sitting at one table to 'study'. Some would think it odd since we never usually mingled together, especially with Lily's open hatred towards James and everything the Marauders stood for. But ever since he and I got together, everyone consequently spent more time together as a group, surprisingly getting along...most of the time.

"A lot of people are dying or getting injured," James replied, handing me back my letter.

"Mom says, the hospital is being run down. They won't be able to carry so many patients for long," I added, feeling uneasy, "Apparently the healthcare system is close to collapsing."

"That's bad," Marlene commented, worry creasing her forehead, "What's going to happen if this goes on?" Everyone shrugged, glancing at each other helplessly as no one had an answer.

"The Ministry will figure it out eventually," Remus tried to reassure us all, straightening up in optimism.

"Right, they always do," Lily agreed, causing Sirius to scoff quietly. She gave him a challenging look, raising her eyebrow. "You've got anything to say, Black?"

"There is a lot I could say that would certainly not please you, Evans," Sirius quipped.

"Anyways," James cut in before a bicker session could begin between them, "We shouldn't turn our hair grey because of this. We are young! And still have more than a year left in the safest place in the country."

I nodded in agreement, leaning into him as he threw his arm around me. Lily silently flickered her deep green eyes between us.

"But what happens after we graduate?" Peter spoke up with an almost quivering voice as he still looked worried.

"Let our future selfs worry about that," Sirius dismissed.

"We should still have a plan though," Lily pointed out and I allowed a frown on my face after she finally ripped her intense gaze off. She had been doing that a lot lately, staring at our interactions longer than deemed normal. What was her issue? "You know, the teachers are planning to start sessions for career advice with each of us. Having no plan probably won't look good."

"Oh, I already know what I'm going to do," Sirius shot back immediately, smirking confidently, "Auror sounds pretty enticing, especially during this time, doesn't it?"

"Same," James said and I resisted the urge to raise my eyebrows at his confidence, "That or Quidditch," he added as an afterthought.

"I don't know," Marlene mused, "Auror does have a nice ring to it but I always thought I would do something with Potions...," Stunned silence and a collective jaw drop followed. The brown-haired beauty burst out in laughter at our disbelieved looks, shaking her head, "Just joking. You should see your faces."

I rolled my eyes at her. "You really got us there for a second, Marls," Remus chuckled.

The evening passed and even though I would have liked to say we did a lot of studying...we didn't. "Well, Remus and I gotta go," Lily sighed, getting up, "We're patrolling tonight."

"Uh, sounds fun," Marlene commented sarcastically and the red head shot her a look.

"Right, on it!" Remus got up as well, readying himself, "Boys, don't pull any pranks tonight. It will make me look bad."

"But Moony, now is the best time! With you on patrol, we won't get any punishment!" Sirius stated indignantly.

"That's exactly what I mean with making me look bad," Remus remarked with a sigh, "I'm a prefect, mate. Help me out by not doing anything."

The black-haired boy seemed to contemplate his options before giving in with a pout, "Fine, but you owe me."

"Good boy," Remus said, patting his head like a dog, "I'll see you guys later...ladies, have a good night."

"Night, Remus!"

"So, if no pranks are allowed...how about we get a midnight snack from the kitchen and head to the Astronomy Tower?" James suggested and I gave him an offended look even though my heart fluttered at his romantic suggestion. "I am second to your pranks? Really?"

"Of course you are!" Sirius snickered.

"Of course you are not!" James contradicted and it was his best mate's turn to give him an affronted look. "Really, Prongs? You're giving me up for a lass so easily?"

"...Pretty much, yes," James shrugged, causing me to snort.

Sirius pouted. "Can I at least tag along?"

"Me too?" Peter added himself.

"Sorry mates, this time is only for me and my love," James declined, pulling me closer as we got up and kissing my temple. I blushed slightly at his open affection. Ever since New Year's Eve we had become closer and practically glued to each other. I couldn't believe my luck at this point, wondering how I had managed to capture the attention of this charismatic and sweet boy when I was a rather boring girl with a boring life. Yet, here we were, officially together for about four months in and going strong.

After grabbing a few snacks from the kitchen, we headed up to the highest tower in the school. I sat down at the ledge, leaning against the barrier with my arms and resting my chin on them as I breathed in the fresh night air. James settled down next to me, quietly handing me a sandwich I bit into immediately whilst we enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere and presence of the other. The view was magnificent, moonlight reflecting from the slight waves of the black sea and I imagined the Giant Squid breaking the surface with its tentacles from time to time.

"What are you thinking about?" James eventually asked softly and I glanced over. His cheek rested on his crossed arms, eyes locked on my face. I blushed slightly at his gaze, looking back out at the landscape. A tinge of happiness rose in me as I thought how life was for me at the moment. Despite my parents throwing fits because of my career choices, I had a great boyfriend, who supported me in everything. And as cliché as it sounded, he made me feel safe during the dangerous times of war raging just outside of the Hogwarts grounds. Is that what love makes you feel-? My thoughts came to a screeching halt at the l-word before it started racing uncontrollably fast. Love? Did I love him?

"Cec?" James poked my arm, breaking me out of my reverie and I twitched slightly in surprise, "Are you spacing out on me?"

"N-no, I was just...," my eyes flickered around for an escape, "..daydreaming," I ended lamely, pressing my mouth against my underarm.

"Okay?" James raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing me, "Are you cold? You are twitching like a weirdo."

"Jeez, thanks," I said sarcastically, though immediately blushed when he scooted closer, throwing an arm around me. "It's alright, weirdo," he said with a grin, "I'll be your knight in shining amor once again and keep you warm."

"And once again, I gotta remind you of a little magic trick called Heating Charm," I replied with the same grin, warmth spreading through me at his cute gesture. James was full of cute gestures, it was a miracle no one knew that. Maybe, because he had never been able to show this side of him before. I bit my lip, shyly acknowledging the increase of my heartbeat at his proximity, the realisation of my feelings suddenly becoming clear.

I had fallen for that idiot.

Days had passed and I was mulling over how to tell James about my feelings. Should I tell him at all? Should I wait for him to say it first? Did he feel the same anyway?

There was only one person to ask for love advice. Someone, who had helped me before.

"Marlene, should I tell him?" I asked.

"Absolutely not," the beautiful Gryffindor answered immediately with her eyes wide.

"Why not?"

"The boy has to say it first. That's the rule."

I made a face. "Is that really? Or are you just making it up?"

Marlene sighed, grabbing my shoulders. "Dearest Cec. We girls easily fall in love. And we figure it out quite easily, too. A boy usually needs a while longer and if the girl were to approach him with her feelings, he would immediately feel swamped and make a beeline for the next exit. Until he is not sure of his own feelings, I wouldn't tell him."

I frowned slightly, "That's a bit biased, don't you think? I'm sure not all boys would try to run away."

"Oh believe me, they will," Marlene stated almost darkly. Something told me, she was talking from experience but I was not enough of a Gryffindor to dig deeper. She noticed my gaze though and immediately let go of my shoulders, leaning back in nonchalance. "I mean, you can risk it and tell him or you can wait. Personally, I believe waiting is the best. It doesn't hurt now, does it?"

I pondered over her words whilst wandering the halls in search of the one boy, who kept running through my mind. Sure, it wouldn't hurt to wait for him to say it first, but the question was how long would he need to realise it? Could I perhaps quicken it up by just telling him first, making him notice his own feelings faster? Or would it just pressure him to say it, too even if he doesn't mean it? That thought filled me with horror and I swiftly decided to keep my mouth shut.

Though, when I rounded the corner to the courtyard and saw him standing in all his bespectacled, nut brown messy haired glory I couldn't help but suddenly hear my heartbeat loud and clearly, drumming in my ears in a pace it would usually go after a sprint or a run up of blasted staircases. I couldn't help but stop short in my movements to savour the sight of his smile for a second, the same smile he would direct at his mates and me, all the people he loved (perhaps he did actually love me, too), his teeth shining in the sunlight that would occasionally peak through between the many clouds and I decided to tell him my feelings then and there, head slightly dizzy from the once again quick change of mind. But before I took a step forward, my eyes flickered away from him at the reflection of the sun on shiny red hair, rippled in perfect waves and slightly blinding. And then they flickered towards a pair of glistening, emerald green eyes that were smiling at the exact same boy I wanted to talk and spill my feelings to.

I swiftly stepped back in the shadows, wincing at my own behaviour. Why was I spying on them? They were doing nothing but talking, laughing at each other...something I had never seen Lily do with James before. Ever. Wishing I could hear what they were saying I looked back at James, feeling my chest warm at the sight of his smile but almost burn at the realisation who it was directed to. All the people he loved...

'No,' I shook my head, 'We've talked about this before we got together. He made it clear that he lost interest in her...after pining after her for years.' She clearly never reciprocated his feelings, so their not-lovestory was over when he moved on. But what if she did reciprocate his feelings? I thought back on all the times I caught her staring at us. Could it be that she had been feeling something for him all along and was just hiding it? Or didn't realise it until now?

Marlene's lessons on keeping a boy interested crossed my mind. Would trying hard to get work on girls, too? After all, James had been chasing her for years and suddenly stopped paying attention to her. He was even in a relationship. But would that spark an interest in Lily? Certainly not. She wasn't the type to chase after someone, who was taken, not to mention one, who had been annoying her for years. No, she was just befriending him now that he wasn't pining after her, seeing as they were in the same friendship circles. We were all spending more time together, the girls and the Marauders. And as Marlene, Alice and I were starting to get along more with the boys, so was Lily. It was bound to happen that we all grew closer. If anything, it was a good thing.

I relaxed a bit at that conclusion, smiling slightly as they laughed quite loudly at something James said. Back then, when I was obsessing more over other people's relationships (since I had none of my own), I always thought they would get along really well if James hadn't been chasing her in his boisterous and overly-done way. Him, with his wild and goofy nature that would dare her to many adventures, and her, who would be able to tame him and not take it too far, keeping him on the ground. 

+A perfect friendship. 

A perfect relationship.

My smile faded and I turned around. Despite myself, I didn't dare to reveal my feelings to the boy on that day.

Neither did I on the following days that turned to weeks until we reached the end of the spring and the world slowly turned warmer in the first days of the summer with a turn from April to May. Everything was as normal as it could get when you were friends with the Marauders. Classes were the same, Quidditch practices were the same, we had won the last game against Ravenclaw and were now on first place to win the Cup as long as Slytherin lost against Hufflepuff (which was quite unlikely, but nobody tell James). The Marauders pulled their usual pranks, although they were more tamed than in their previous years and less directed at us girls. James and I were still going to strong...yet none of us had said the l-word even though we had been together for almost eight months by now. And although Marlene kept reassuring me that it was normal for boys to take longer in their admittance for love, all the romantic books that I'd read throughout my teenage years stated otherwise. We should have long since reached that stage to proclaim our love for each other, shouldn't we? Hell, James proclaimed his love for Lily everyday for years ever since he saw her and they weren't even together. It shouldn't be hard for him to realise whether he loved me or not.

This fueled my insecurities more each day that passed without a confession, which caused me to keep my mouth shut about my own feelings, too. Instead I found myself frequently catching James and Lily alone, deep in conversation, whenever I was looking for him after he went missing on all of us. Either at the library, where I had never seen him go as often as now and on his own will, too, or outside at the courtyard or on the Hogwarts grounds with her sitting in the shade of a tree and him dangling from a branch above her, grinning down at her as she laughed whenever his glasses slipped askew from his upside down position. It was practically a picture ripped from the pages of a romance novel. And the burning feeling in my chest would continue.

"Lily and James are getting along pretty well, aren't they?" I commented off-handedly one day. Marlene, Alice and I were sat in the library together, studying for the upcoming exams with Lily having gone to fetch more books. Alice tensed up slightly, her eyes flashing from me to her book whilst Marlene looked up, shrugging nonchalantly. "Guess so. Now that he is not annoying her anymore."

"Right. Good thing," I said, nodding along to her words. Needless to say it was relieving to see that she had the same thoughts as me about this. An expert like her would have caught on if there was something more to their sudden closeness, right? Nonetheless I looked over at Alice, who suddenly seemed very busy with scribbling something down on her parchment. Alice, who out of the three of us was the closest to Lily and who would likely know exactly what was going on. "What do you think, Alice?" I asked her bluntly as she didn't seem to want to join the conversation on her own.

Startled, she looked up and I gave her a tight-lipped smile as I awaited her answer. "Eh, yes. They seem to get along better than before. At least, Lily is not yelling her head off anymore every time she sees him," she replied, laughing albeit nervously. Just then, the aforementioned girl headed back towards our table with four books stacked in her arms. I gnawed on my lip, wondering how to ease the constriction in my chest that had been my constant companion for a while now with the ongoing uncertainty.

"Hey Lily, are you dating someone?" I asked her as she sat down. Her books promptly landed on the table with a bang as she had slackened her grip on them in surprise. I cringed slightly at the glare thrown at us from Madam Pince and Lily mouthed a silent 'sorry' at her.

"What? Why do you ask?" she coughed slightly, glancing at the other girls, who had looked up in interest now.

I shrugged. "Just wondering. You are pretty and someone ought to have to courage to ask you out, now that James is not holding anyone back from it," I laughed slightly at the end, hoping to dissolve the suddenly awkward atmosphere that appeared at my statement.

"She's right, Lils," Marlene thankfully butted in, blissfully unaware, "You are the only single among us and you've been for a while. It's time to get some!" Lily went beet red, reaching over to smack her on the arm as we all snickered slightly. "Jesus, Marlene. That's so inappropiate!"

"What? It's true! You are the only single among us. And someone is bound to have asked you out lately! Right?" the brown-haired beauty pressed on and I had never been more grateful for her noisiness than now.

Lily grumbled under her breath, hesitating slightly before she gave in, "Maybe. Some Ravenclaw perhaps." Our eyes widened and Marlene squealed as quietly as she could. "I'm not interested though!" she quickly added at our excited looks, deflating my relief, "Now drop it. We are here to study." And with that, she successfully ended the topic.

Later at night I met up with James at the Astronomy Tower, our usual spot when we wanted to hang out after curfew. "Hey, how was your day?" he greeted me warmly as I sat down next to him at the edge of the tower, resting my arms against the railing. A cool breezed rushed throughout the tower and James quickly scooted closer to wrap his arms around me before I even started to shiver and I smiled at his sweet gesture.

"Quite well. Studied a lot. And you?"

"Quite well. Pranked a lot," he mimicked, grinning when I laughed slightly. "Which poor soul did you harrass this time?" I asked, resting the side of my head against my arms as I listened attentively to him recounting each prank with great detail, his arm leaving me once in a while to emphasize something but never failing to come back around me. "Sounds like you had a lot of fun today...," I remarked when he ended and he nodded with a beaming grin, "...and when did you study?" His beam deflated into a pout, causing my shoulders to shake in silent laughter.

"I don't need to study," he grumbled nudging me. "Sure, you don't." I nudged him back, slipping to the side and almost under the railing when he nudged me slightly harder. He quickly grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back towards him. "Sorry about that," he apologised embarrassed and I giggled slightly, resting against him. "Don't worry, I don't mind this at all," I replied, snuggling my head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tightly towards him. "Mhmm, I'm sure you don't," he chuckled into my hair, his lips grazing slightly against my earlobe and causing me to shiver. I could feel his smile as he deliberatly brushed against my ear again and I squirmed slightly, burying my red face in his chest. "Why so shy all of a sudden?" he teased and I stifled a gasp as he playfully nibbed at my ear. "I'm not shy," I protested, voice muffled. "Is that so?" He tried to back away but I tightened my arms around his waist, firmly keeping my face planted against his chest. "Yes!"

He laughed lightly, promptly dropping on his back and pulling me on top of him. I adjusted my position, placing a leg on each side of his hips and resting my ear on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I could stay like this for a long while," James commented with a blissful sigh as he wrapped his robes around me for warmth. I raised my head to shoot him a smile and he grinned back at me softly. Craning my neck I placed a kiss against his jaw, unable to resist the urge. He quickly pulled me further up, rising up slightly to capture my mouth with his and my eyes fluttered shut as he held the back of my head, his fingers grasping my hair. I fisted his shirt, a swarm of butterflies causing a wreckage in my stomach as he molded his lips against mine, his tongue peeking out to run across my lower lip when a sudden noise erupted somewhere close.

I pulled away quickly. "Did you hear that?" I asked breathlessly as I looked up.

"Hear you moan for me?" James tugged me back down by the neck. "Not yet," he whispered huskily against my mouth. My eyes widened in surprise, heart pounding against my ribcage at his words. He nipped at my lip with his teeth playfully before fully placing his lips against mine again until I almost forgot what had interrupted us in the first place. But the fear of getting caught outside of curfew broke me out of my daze once more. "Seriously, James," I whispered breathlessly, looking up to squint at the doorway, "I think someone's down there. They might come up." James groaned, tugging at my shirt. "No ones down there."

"And what was that noise? What if we get caught?" I asked, sitting up.

"Probably gonna get detenti- uff," he hissed and I glanced down at him to see him holding his breath. "What's wrong...?" I questioned when I realised I had sat up directly on his groin. 

Oh. 

"Oh, Cec," he breathed out as his eyes darkened, "You really shouldn't have done that." He shot up, crashing his lips against mine before I could get another word out, his hand coming up to entangle in my hair as his other arm wound tightly around my waist, pulling me flush against him. A small moan escaped me when his sudden movement caused his hips to grind against mine as I sat securely between his torso and his slightly raised knees. "There is my moan," he smirked against my lips and I could have sworn my heart stopped at this devilish sight. Breathing out shakily, I took his face between my hands, seeing his eyes soften slightly before I tilted my head to deepen the kiss, unable to restrain myself in any way. He reciprocated eagerly, his hand fisting in my hair as our tongues clashed together. I moved slightly against him, a flash of excitement coursing through me when I heard his breath hitch. "Fuck, Cec," he groaned in my mouth and my eyes almost rolled back in pleasure at the mere sound. He reached down to grasp my thigh tightly, pulling me closer and I gasped against his mouth. His thumb stroke softly over my skin, smiling at the goosebumps erupting everywhere. He let his hand travel up until he reached the end of my skirt. "Can I?" he asked without detaching his lips once and I nodded, resisting the urge to moan when he dug his fingers in the exposed flesh under my skirt. "James," I breathed out as I broke away for air, feeling him shiver. His mouth trailed down to my neck, nibbling on it as I tangled my hand in his hair, his own letting go of my waist and reaching up to undo the buttons of my shirt-

"James and Cec sitting in a tree," an all to familiar voice reached our ears and my eyes snapped open. "K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" James halted his movements, burying his face in my neck with a groan.

"First comes love!" Sirius sang joyfully as he appeared by the doorway, a piece of parchment in one hand and his wind lit up at the tip in the other. "Then comes marr-holy shit!" His eyes widened slightly at our disheveled figures but his smirk came back as soon as it had disappeared. "My my, first come the babies it seems with you two!"

"Fucking hell, Sirius!" James cursed, turning around to glare at his best mate.

"Hi Prongs!" Sirius greeted innocently, waving his parchment.

"Worst timing ever, mate!" I buried my face in my hand in embarrassment, wondering if our compromising position would go unnoticed if I pretended that it wasn't compromising.

"Sorry Prongsie, your babymaking has to wait. We've got a little something going on tonight," Sirius said, not sounding sorry at all as he nodded outside. I peeked a glance between my fingers to see James' eyes widen under his slightly askew glasses. Glancing over my shoulder I caught sight of the full moon, partially obscured by a few clouds.

"Right, give us a minute please," James requested and Sirius disappeared down the stairs again. His hazel eyes appeared startingly lighter under the shine of the full moon as he grasped my hips softly with both hands. "I've got to go," he said quietly and the atmosphere seemed suddenly serene in contrast to a minute ago.

"That's okay," I replied as quietly, adjusting his glasses once again and he smiled that sweet smile, that one damn sweet smile only reserved for his loved ones and my mouth opened before I could stop myself, "James, I l-"

"Prongs! Hurry up already!" Sirius cut me off from down the stairs. James huffed, rolling his eyes at his mate.

"I'm sorry. I really gotta go," he said and I nodded quickly, scrambling to get up and off him. He adjusted his clothes before stepping closer, giving me a sweet kiss. "Good night, love," he said softly as he fastened up the buttons he had undone on my shirt, "I will see you tomorrow?"

"Definitely. Good night."

Unbeknownst to him, to Sirius and to me, Sirius had just saved me from committing the biggest mistake tonight. Twice.

Chapter Eleven