#have this one little scene in my head where you're both in the midst of battle (at night) and he finally hits you abruptly with his webs

[mrsoharaa]

plot twist!!

villain! Miguel is also a fellow spiderman...just obviously 10x's more dark and twisted (and evil, duh lool). <:3 >w>

[bokutizer]

➵ NANAMI KENTO

summary : While you worried about his well-being, Nanami was more concerned about your self-defense strategies.  tags : fluff, slight angst, nightmares a/n : nanami kento, the only man I can write for despite my never ending writer's block

Whether it were your own frightened screams or the terrifying scenes that had displayed in your head a few moments ago, it did not matter which ones had woken you up. You were awake. And that was not about to change for the next few minutes or… hours. 

And the fact that the left side of your bed was still cold and empty did not make it any better, in fact, it was probably the reason behind the tormenting nightmare that you had woken up from in the first place.

"He'll be fine." in midst of the dark and quiet night, your whisper sounded louder, clearer. The words bouncing off the walls and easing some of the tension in your chest, your breathing sounding less frantic than before.

Yet that changed quickly once your ears caught the creaking sound of your bedroom door being opened, your body in a matter of milliseconds taking the first thing in your reach and bracing yourself for whatever was about to- Attack you? Rob you? Eat you alive? 

"I don’t mean to sound like a know-it-all, love, but that lamp is definitely not heavy enough to knock someone out."

You felt your pulse drop from whatever height it had rosen to, a mixture between a sigh and a scoff leaving your mouth as you set the lamp back on your nightstand where you had snatched it from. 

"I thought you said you'd be back tomorrow evening." you spoke, wincing at the dry and hoarse sound of your voice. 

"Today in the evening." Nanami corrected as he rid himself of his suit jacket, fingers acting quickly to open the buttons of his shirt which he threw on the spare chair beside the closet. Right, you did not even bother to check what ungodly hour it was right now. "But I managed to get an earlier flight." 

You hummed, the cool wood of the headboard pressing against your back as you watched Nanami switch his usual elegant trousers for a soft pair of sweatpants, his hands tying the strings at the front into a loose knot. 

He's fine. 

The bed dipped beside you and the warmth that washed over you once his thigh brushed against yours, once his arm wrapped itself around your waist and pullled you closer against him, the sweet and soft peck against your cheek and the following lingering kiss on your lips-

If felt all so overwhelmingly good. 

"Something wrong?" You had been awake long enough for your eyes to adjust to the dark as you could easily spot the little crease between his eyebrows, honey-pool eyes staring right into your soul. 

You shook your head silently, but despite the darkness enveloping you both, Nanami could feel the tension in your body, feel the cold skin of your hands and hear your shaky exhales every time you breathed out. It was so quiet, if you wouldn’t have known that he was still sitting beside you, his gaze not leaving your curled up form, you would have thought that he had probaly already gone to sleep. But he had not. Nanami Kento, patient as always. 

"I'm alright, just had a bad dream before you got home." you admitted, your voice not louder than a mouse. 

Ignoring your wobbly smile, Nanami curled a hand around one of your wrists, wordlessly ushering you to lie down with him and letting you seek comfort against the warmth of his bare chest. "I'm here now, sweetheart." the words vibrated against your skin as his lips rested against your forehead, his warm hand resting on your lower back aiding you to get rid of the remaining anxiousness. You wondered if some of it would actually ever go away. "You're safe with me."

"It's not my own safety that I'm worrying about." your confession sounded rather harsh, a tinge of guilt immediately spreading inside your chest but deep down you knew that he knew. Nanami knew that his work haunted you, causing the, for his liking, too frequent nightmares that sometimes kept you up at night. He was well aware what those were about and how they mostly ended. 

The only thing he could do was to keep assuring you, reminding you that he'd never leave you on purpose, that you were probably his sole purpose he actually always did his best to come back home. And you - you couldn’t do anything but accept and take the comfort that he fed you with, to the point that you feared you'd turn delusional and actually start thinking that the possibility of Nanami not coming back home to you was almost inexistent.

"You know what I'm worried about?" 

Your eyebrows quirked up. "What?" 

"I'm worried about you thinking that the night lamp over there could actually save you in a life-and-death situation." the undertone of his voice was unmistakably serious, but you would not have married Nanami Kento if you didn't know that he was full on smirking at you right now. 

"I see, you must have missed our couch a lot, Mr. Nanami." His chuckle quavered against your back as you offendedly turned it to him, his hold on you not loosening even a bit and instead inciting him to hold you even tighter. The light kiss he left on your neck made you melt into his embrace, reaching your hand down to his that was resting on your stomach, and weaving your fingers through his. 

"Kento?"

"Hm?"

"Welcome home."

[gabriels-wings-of-freedom]

sorry to bother but..

just imagining gabriel calming down an angry and pissed off s/o at the Winchesters in particular

bonus if they dont get angry easily

also you're one of my favorite gabe/spn blogs who still post ^^♥

Awwww, thank you!! Enjoy!💖

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

Mad

The Winchester boys really piss you off one day. Luckily, Gabriel is there to stop any homicides from happening.

The boys have finally done it. They hit a new low that's so low that you actually managed to get angry at them. In fact, it wasn't just one thing. It was a multitude of things that built up until you finally snapped at them.

And it was scary.

Dean always was one to irritate a little, but Sam was too nice for that. It was only when he was influenced by his older brother that things can get bad. Normally, you chalk it up to boys being boys and try not to mind so much. However, recently, they did something that caused you to go over the edge.

You couldn't even remember all the things that led up to this. All you did know was that you had gone out of your way to buy groceries for them, your car had then been stolen. You called Dean to come and get you, but he didn't answer his phone. Later, Sam called and apologized (Dean had been "busy"), and said they would come get you in a minute. They never did, and you ended up hitching a ride with a stranger that you hoped wasn't a demon all the way back to the bunker where you met a frazzled Sam and a drunk Dean.

That's when you unleashed hell.

"I have gone so damn long without getting mad here! But now you start this shit by FORGETTING about me! Leaving me to find my own way back here!" You shouted at them, Dean (drunk as he is) still looking scared while Sam tried to talk you down.

"Y/N, listen, I know-"

"Do I sound like I'm done yelling at you? I'm pissed!" You shouted, and Sam's mouth shut as he took in your rage like a child. In the midst of your yelling, you couldn't hear the small fluttering of wings as two angels arrived in the room.

"See Castiel, I told you-woah...What did we miss?" Gabriel asked the younger angel as he took in the scene. Castiel looked at your angered form, a scared look then formed in his eyes, and he noped out of there.

Leaving Gabriel alone.

Normally, Gabriel wished you would get angry more often. The boys take advantage of you sometimes because they know you'll forgive them. Well, Gabriel isn't so forgiving. If anything, they deserved a good yelling at by you. However, he knew it wasn't good for you to be so riled up.

"Y/N, Y/N, listen me. I need you to listen." Gabriel suddenly appeared before you, blocking your view from the boys like intervening a fight between two feral dogs.

You just stared at him, still pissed, maybe even more so now that he stood in your way.

"As hot as it is, you don't need to get so worked up cupcake. It isn't good for you." Gabriel then placed his hands on your shoulders, which calmed you slightly. But only slightly.

"But you heard what they did to me. And by the way, thanks for the angelic assistance." You then snapped at him for not sensing that you were in need of help. However, Gabriel took your petty anger with grace, gently rubbing your shoulders.

"I'm sorry about that. I was caught up in things. But they aren't worth your anger, Y/N. Nothing is worse than you losing that sweet smile you have." Gabriel flirted a little, which caused a slight grin to grow on your face.

"See? There it is! The smile I missed so much!" The archangel teased you before moving to kiss you quickly, which caused you to giggle. Him soon joining your now giddy demeanor.

"Thanks Gabe. I needed some calming down." You said to him, and he just nuzzled his head against yours, his cheek touching yours.

"Anytime cupcake." He whispered, and you guys were just kind of in your own little world.

Meanwhile, Sam and Dean were frozen in both fear and amazement. Fear because they didn't know if your wrath was over, and if they dared move you would strike. And amazement because they didn't know that Gabriel had such calming powers despite his impish personality.

Suddenly, the fluttering of wings sounded.

"Is it safe?" Castiel's voice whispered behind the boys.

"We...don't know." Dean responded, still watching you guys. However, that seemed like code to Castiel.

"Understood." The angel then said before placing a hand on both Dean and Sam's shoulder. With a fluttering of wings, the three of them were gone and to safety, leaving you and Gabriel alone.

And your rage may be gone, but Gabriel was just getting started.

Those boys were in a rude awakening for angering you.

[love-toxin]

shadysider sunshine

a/n: basically i rewatched the fear street trilogy and i could not resist writing this fic...

warnings: tommy slater x reader, camp counselor! reader, sunnyvaler! reader, pet names, "oh no there's only one shower" trope, kind of enemies to lovers but not really, shower sex, teasing, semi-public sex, bruising/hickies, unprotected sex, reader has an attitude, afab reader.

word count: 4k

"Dude, what are you doing here at this time of night?" 

You want to be mad about it, but even the lilt of your voice betrays your own entertainment with the situation. The last person you would expect to find skulking around your cabin late at night is the same person you've locked eyes with, the younger campers that were once his comrades having shrieked and fled the scene upon being caught in the beam of your flashlight. After having your shower and traipsing all the way back towards your cabin, hair still wet and your legs cold from the cool air against your damp skin, you just wanted to relax--but it never seems to work out that way at Camp Nightwing. 

Honestly, you're not even sure what to expect. It's not uncommon for the opposing teams, Shadyside and Sunnyvale, to play pranks on each other, but for the most part any counselor participation would be prohibited--especially when it's everyone's favourite heartthrob, Tommy Slater. 

"You gonna egg my cabin, Shadysider? Cause if you are, you're gonna have to be a little sneakier than that." 

His eyes widen and he looks around as if he hasn't already been caught red-handed, locks of light hair swinging about his face each time he turns his head. A quick glance down and he's got nothing in his hands, but that doesn't mean anything. As much as you hate to put the stereotype on people, especially kids, Shadysiders have a knack for getting into trouble with minimal effort. 

"N-No! Uh, we weren't...I wasn't…"

Has he really not noticed that he's been left afloat? He takes a further look around and seems surprised at the fact that his little campers are all gone, no doubt having sprinted back to their cabins to keep from getting caught doing...whatever they were planning to do. 

"Listen,"

He snaps to attention when you speak up again, in the midst of pulling your robe tighter around yourself. Even a blind man could see where his eyes fall when you do so, and as much as you don't want to encourage him, you just have to scoff and let a smirk work its way across your lips. How cute, trying to pretend he doesn't notice your current state of dress. 

"I really don't give a shit, I just want to go to bed. Congrats on the colour war, Mr. Slater, and try to keep your campers out of my cabin." 

You flick the flashlight off and pitch you both into relative darkness, with the moon being the only thing half-illuminating each of your faces. Honestly, you've spent the last hour or two comforting the disappointed Sunnyvale campers after their first loss, and Kurt's anguished cries of unfair play are still ringing in your ears. If nothing else, you just want one more good night of sleep before there's even more to contend with tomorrow. 

"You can call me Tommy, y'know."

It hurts how naïve he sounds. He really is such a goody two shoes, but you can't even really get on his case for it. It's just the way it is, and you'll be the first to admit that there's certainly much worse ways to be. 

"I know your name. I'm just messing with you, honey." 

A soft "Oh," leaves his lips, and….God, he's hopeless. Who wouldn't know his name, his face, or that innocent look that makes you feel like you're staring into the eyes of a lost puppy? Many of your fellow Sunnyvalers like to mock you for extending an olive branch to the poor, misfit Shadysiders, but they really aren't that bad. Well, at least some of them aren't. 

But jeez, you've never seen him so meek before. Tommy shifts his weight from foot to foot, and as far as you can tell in the dim light he looks like he's got something else to say. But he just can't seem to spit it out, and with a sigh at the tease of something interesting happening, you turn and flick your hair aside as you start taking steps back towards your cabin door. And just as you're in the midst of bidding your fellow counselor good night, with one hand set on your doorknob, you hear a shout of "Wait!" from just behind you and a force at your back that shoves you forward. Within seconds you're on the floorboards in the entryway of your cabin, flashlight rolled out of reach and dazed from the sudden push--and with a creak and a splattering sound you feel something splash all over the back of your legs, and you turn yourself around to see the carnage that lay between them. 

There, with half his body in the doorway and the other half on the stairs where he's come crashing down, is Tommy--covered from head to ass in blue paint. The bucket is already in the process of rolling down said stairs, surely having been propped on top of your door to stain whoever was unlucky enough to open it, and despite being so bold as to shove you out of the way, he grimaces at the fury that's written clear as day on your face. You want to curse him out so fucking badly, want to kick his stupid pretty face in for letting those shit kids of his do this, but you're so annoyed already that the anger almost cancels itself out as you take a deep breath in. Almost. 

"You're a dickhead." 

Only then does he scramble to get up, stepping back to avoid getting more paint on your floor only to slip and fall backwards on to his ass. And despite being ever so courageous to save you from such a stupid prank, you groan as you look down and find splatters of blue paint all over not just your legs, but your robe and your hands too. And he's absolutely doused in it, hair soaked through and his clothes totally marred by the thick paint, little bastards must have mixed it with something else to make it stick. At the moment it's not even worth it to try mopping it off your floor and the stairs, you just get to your feet and slam the door behind you, punting the bucket all the way into the bushes as you stomp past Tommy and head right back towards the showers. Again.

"W-Wait-! I'm sorry, I really-"

"I don't wanna hear it, Shadysider!"

What you also don't want to hear is his footsteps hurrying towards you, and yet he's caught up in less than a minute and matches your pace as you head towards the building just across the field. If not for the snatches of lamplight catching your faces as you walk, you wouldn't have taken notice to the panic in his eyes that softens the anger a little bit….but not enough to make you stop. 

"It wasn't meant for you, they thought it was Kurt's cabin, and I really thought it was! But it was dark, and I tried to tell them it was a bad idea, and….I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." 

You want to be mad. You seriously, desperately want to be mad enough that it none of it matters, that him hurrying to stand in your way and apologize makes no difference to you, and that the gentle grip he gets on your forearms to keep you focused on him doesn't make your heart flutter. Being touched by some guy, and a Shadyside one at that, shouldn't make you so weak, but it really does. The silence hangs heavy between you, nothing but the crickets and the sound of a warm breeze passing through the trees and rustling the leaves to pepper the quiet air. 

"...Fine. It's fine. Now, can we just go wash this shit off?"

The paint dripping down his face can't hide the relief that passes over it, yet when he has the mind to let you go, a soft "Oops," falls from his mouth as you both glance down to see the palm prints he's left on you. It breaks the tension in a way, though, as you roll your eyes and pull him along as he chuckles, another apology coming out as the two of you approach the steps to the shower block and slip inside. 

Lucky for you, for once, it's completely empty. The stalls sit open and the tiles dry, although it is pretty late at night and nearly all the campers should be asleep. But when you reach for the nearest one in a row of four to turn it on, your face falls and you groan for what feels like the hundredth time today. 

"Of course. It's past midnight. Only one of them is on."

Whatever kind of water-preservation bullshit they wanna keep going with just exists to piss you off, evidently--Tommy kicks his shoes off and follows close behind as you test each one, before finally reaching the double-wide stall where the handle squeaks and out comes a hail of fresh, warm water. 

"C'mon, I wanna get this over with. If we stand around it's gonna be harder to get off." 

His first instinct upon you loosening the sash of your robe is to turn his head away, a hand coming up to block his vision even though you've already caught the red tinge rising to his cheeks, and the giddy smile that he can't quite wipe off his face. 

"You sure?"

He says so with his eyes still averted, but the desire to sneak a peek is so strong you can feel it even just standing next to him. To you it's whatever, but it's obvious that this is his first time doing something like this--and as much as you want to laugh, you dim it to a smirk as you shrug your robe off your shoulders and toss it on the towel bench to your right. 

"We'll just turn around. It's no big deal...what, you afraid?" 

Stretching a hand out, you test the water to check the temperature, only distantly aware of the click of Tommy's belt behind you as he starts to undress. For some reason the sound stirs something within you, and you can't help biting your lip as you try to stifle the urge to turn around and look. 

"As long as you don't mind sharing the water with a Shadysider." 

Ooh, you can just feel the smirk on his pretty face as he teases you, finally seeming to come out of his shell the more he bares himself to you. He doesn't bother hanging up his sleeveless tank and his tight jeans, just tosses them in a heap on the bench for them to dry. They're probably ruined anyways, you can feel how thick the paint is as it dries on your skin, and you can only imagine how tough it's going to be to get it out of his hair. You try your best not to think of how he's gonna need help to do so, but you fail, just as expected. 

"Just get in, dummy." 

You can't help your smile either, and once the steam starts rising from the cold tiles, you finally step underneath the shower head and sigh at the feeling, the water like a warm blanket covering your body entirely and wrapping you in comfort you can't get anywhere else. At least, until Tommy's warmth shuffles closer and he sidles up behind you, his body so close that you swear you can hear his heartbeat from here. And if you really can, then it's thudding like the keys of a typewriter, so fast you pray he doesn't have a heart attack where he stands. But to say you aren't starting to feel the same would be a lie, a huge one. 

With your backs turned, you let him lean back against you as he lifts his arms, no doubt scrubbing the semi-dried paint from his scalp and squeezing it out of his straight locks. And you can feel his muscles tense against you as he works away, so toned and firm but with soft skin stretched taut over each one. When you raise your leg and steady it against the wall to try to rub the stuff off, you can feel him pause just as you did, but this time it's because you've leaned over enough to press your ass into his. He'll get himself into trouble being so innocent like that, but you keep your mouth shut for his sake and scrub until all that remains against your skin has a light hue of blue, which you suppose you'll just have to wait awhile for it to completely go away. At least it's not as bad as your hero, who you can tell is struggling by the way he grunts and mutters a "Damn," under his breath as you're finishing up your other leg. 

"Need a hand?" 

He huffs a sigh, and turns his head to look over his shoulder at you--the streaks of blue running down between his eyes should be enough of a tell, and trying not to be too conspicuous about it, you shift yourselves so you're face to face, and eye to eye. It's like a silent competition, the eye contact intense but the threat of embarrassment for whoever looks down first even more so, but that's swiftly remedied by Tommy getting up closer so you're chest-to-chest. Which, of course, means your tits are now pressed up against him, but the goofy grin on his lips is too cute for you to be mad. 

"Don't get excited, Shadysider. I'll be able to tell." 

"Will you now?" 

There's that cheeky tone, as if all his shyness has evaporated with the steam rising up all around you. You try to smother the heat that stirs in your belly because of it by reaching up and ruffling his hair with both hands, flicking little blue-tinted specks of water all over both of you and each of the walls. Once you've had your little giggle session together you feel the stress ebb away, and it grows more comfortable as you wash the paint away and watch it stream down his body with the running water, highlighting all those features that make the girls go crazy and the other guys jealous. Before long he's nearly back to normal, his hair as clean as you can get without shampoo and his body washed clear of any blue residue, and you're almost disappointed that you're done when the water starts running clear.

Or, maybe not, based on the growing stiffness against your thigh that's beckoning for your attention. Your gaze drops and finds his once again, his grin having shifted to teasing laughter as he realizes it too. 

"Sorry, can't help it. You're just too pretty, sunshine." 

Stupid, stupid, stupid heart, pounding so hard in your chest you can't even think straight. And him sliding his arms around you to hold you tight to his chest isn't helping, at least the pattering of water against your bodies might mask how stuttered your breathing has become, even though nothing can hide how both of you keep stealing glances at each other's lips. 

"Can I kiss you?" 

At this point, he doesn't even need to ask. Shadyside, Sunnyvale, who gives a fuck--you can't say no to that sweet face, so innocent on one hand yet with such intensity and lasciviousness in his eyes. You're the one who closes the distance between you, your breath stolen away by how unexpectedly soft his lips are. He's warm, unsurprisingly, and somehow you can feel gooseflesh on the back of your neck that prickles the hairs there, and sends a shiver racing down your spine that has you arching your back into his embrace. 

And everything moves much faster after that. Tommy takes a step forwards and then another, and before you know it he's backed you up against the wall, hiking your leg up around his waist so there's nothing stopping you from each other. He makes his hands useful by feeling you up from the hips to your chest, and when he's got every inch committed to memory and you've hooked your other leg over his waist, he shifts you up once more so you won't fall and loops his arms under you to press his palms against the shower wall. And with nowhere better to put yours, you wrap them around his neck and lean into another kiss on the way, maybe just to make sure your moans are swallowed into his mouth when he finally starts to enter you. 

For a supposed virgin boy, he really does make your head go blank and your limbs melt into jelly as he feeds every inch of himself inside you. And with nowhere to rest your feet to take the pressure off, you push your tongue past his lips and let his have free admission, just to try and stifle those noises that might just turn into screams of pleasure if you can't stop them. He's so thick you can barely wrap your mind around it, and your body can barely fit it--but he waits for you to start gushing like there's no other option, his playful chuckle like a mumble from his mouth to yours as he starts thrusting. Your defense mechanism certainly isn't lasting, however, since he breaks the kiss just to press his forehead to yours and gasp for air as the shower's rain pours down his back. 

"What's my name, sunshine?" 

The answer's ripped from your throat by a particularly hard buck, his cock so stiff that when it hits you as deep as it can go, all the air you can manage is sucked into your lungs and blown out in a moan so loud it rings in the empty shower block. 

"Tommy! Tommy, Tommy!" 

He nudges your face aside to bury his own into your neck, tonguing your sensitive skin before he scrapes his teeth along it and jolts when you clench around him as a result. And when you finally start to relax into the rhythm and grind your hips down to meet his, he steals your breath away again by sucking down hard, and leaving what you know will be a damn sore bruise behind that you'll have to scramble to hide tomorrow. That is, if you can even get out of bed, because at the moment you can't even feel your legs even as they're shaking and trembling as they hang over his hips, your pussy stretched to fit him and filled so deep you feel like a virgin born anew. And with each rock of his hips you can feel that end coming closer, like you're hurtling towards it with no way to fend it off so you can enjoy it a while longer. When it finally comes with one good, hard thrust that has his wiry little hairs rubbing up against your clit, the blinding heat that bursts inside you spreads to every limb of your body and leaves nothing but shivers behind. It feels like your veins are copper wire blazed through with an electric shock, and burned behind them to leave nothing but an empty warmth. And if Tommy wasn't still buried inside you, you would say it was quite empty indeed--but then he's scrambling to lift you off his cock, and when he's leaned you back against the wall on unsteady feet, he coaxes himself to his own end with his hand all over your stomach. It's mesmerizing to watch him, face twisted in pleasure as he milks himself dry like he's marking you, and once he's collapsed into your tired body with his chest heaving, you wonder if this isn't the first time he's cum to the idea of you. 

For a while after that, it's quiet, save for the two of you breathing as you wait for it to go back to normal. After a few minutes of just holding you, he takes a step or two backwards and pulls you with him, standing you under the shower head so he can move you around and rinse you off like you did for him. Not just your belly covered in his cum, but the sweat and spit from your little romp too--he even spreads your legs apart and slips a finger inside you, making sure to lean away from the water spraying over you when he pulls it out, so he can slide it into his mouth and suck it clean with a goofy grin on his face. 

"So,"

He breathes, the air warm against your damp skin as he reaches around you to shut the water off. 

"You like the Shadysider experience?"

You press both palms to his chest to lean away as he laughs, diving in to pepper kisses to your face and your neck as you roll your eyes and kiss his forehead at the first chance. 

"You're such a dork." 

You can't even pretend to have any venom behind that. He's too earnest as he leans over to grab your robe, and only then seems to realize your newest predicament. His clothes are still covered in paint, and with how crusted and dry they are now, you doubt he would even be able to wrestle them apart from each other without ripping them. Unless he wants to streak across camp, you'll have to find another option. 

"Here,"

Instead of letting him hand it over, you push the robe back into his hands, much to his surprise. 

"Go back to my cabin, and grab me some clothes. I'll wait here." 

The realization seems to cross his face, and as swiftly as he can manage with something definitely not his size, he ties it loosely and takes your face into those big, gentle hands. 

"Be back soon, sunshine."  

To be pulled into a kiss like this, brief but sweet and with a twinge of passion, you can't equate it to anything else. You watch as Tommy slips on his shoes, hurries out the door and heads towards your cabin, no doubt doing so in a rush so that you don't get chilly waiting for him in the airy building.

And as you stand there, bracing yourself against the cool breeze that parts the sticky summer heat, you wonder when you fell in love. Maybe it's not really love, but it could certainly turn into that soon, if things keep up as they are. You just can't wipe the smile from your face as you wait for him, eager to see his toothy grin as he rushes back to see you again, and it's a feeling unlike anything you've experienced so far. Your time has been short but the years have felt long, constantly filled with your Sunnyvale brethren not only mocking the Shadysiders to hell and back, but hounding you for pitying them and showing them some modicum of kindness. 

At least, if nothing else, you can say that it's paid off. This moment is the happiest you've been in a long time, so much so that a tune makes its way to your lips and your humming echoes off the shower walls. Your mind wanders so contentedly that you don't even hear the creak of the door opening and closing, and only notice the presence when the sound of footsteps thudding towards you grabs your attention. They're quick at first but they slow as they get to you, and though a shiver runs through your body from nowhere, a soft whisper falls from your lips as a shadow casts itself across the floor in front of you.

"Tommy?"

[s-brant]

Pirates and Princesses (8/8)

(gif: @beccs) (PART SEVEN) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: JJ must confront his childhood trauma when returning home for the first time since his dad went to jail and prevent it from sabotaging his new relationship. Meanwhile, something sinister happens at the Chateau that brings Y/N face to face with her grief over John B’s death.

Word Count: 13.4k

Warnings: Angst, implied sexual content, strong language, parent/child abuse, mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, grief, and fluff.

A/N: Welcome to the final chapter of Tokens! This one has a little bit of everything in it, but it also has detailed scenes about JJ and his dad, so proceed with caution if you’re easily triggered by that topic. The love you guys show this fic warms my heart so much, so thanks to anyone who stuck with this story until this chapter. Hope you enjoy it!

Now that she has been sentenced to both punishments, one as a consequence of the fight with Kacey and the other as a consequence of the stunt she pulled with JJ to break out of ISS, Y/N can confidently say that out of school suspension is superior to in-school suspension by a long shot. Instead of sitting in a humid room with Alec for the duration of multiple school days, she's allowed to stay home, go out surfing, and do whatever she wants in lieu of doing classwork.

She promised herself not to make it a habit, promising the invisible presence of John B that she likes to pretend follows her around that she will never get herself into trouble again, but she sees no problem in enjoying her suspension while it lasts.

For the first few days of her suspension, JJ skipped school to spend it with her. Their memories of the conversation they had at three in the morning on Sunday were fuzzy, but not missing entirely. She noticed a difference in his behavior for the first few hours after they woke up under the tree together for the second time in one week. It wasn't a difference in their relationship or how he treated her, it was a difference in him.

He was quieter than usual as they cleaned up cans of beer and tossed them into the recycling, sending pictures to Kie while she was in class after she made them promise not to throw them in the trash. Rather than cracking jokes or making casual conversation with her, JJ made his way around the yard with the recycling bin in his hands and his head in the clouds. It disappeared as the day progressed, but for a little while, he wasn't completely there.

Today, he went into school instead of ditching to spend extra time with her in between shifts at work and time spent with their friends. Since they can't exceed three consecutive absences without a doctor’s note and he doesn't own a printer or laptop to forage the header from a doctor's office, he had no choice but to part from her this morning.

He bites his lip to contain his smug facial expression at the recollection of her wake up call for him. The hand holding his locker door open for him to lean on in the midst of his not-so-wholesome thoughts of her squeezes the metal hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

The curtains weren't shut all the way when they fell asleep before midnight last night, allowing a shaft of sunlight to shine in and land on his face. But that wasn't what woke him up from the dream he was having. In fact, the reality he opened his eyes to was a hell of a lot better than any dream he remembered.

Most of his memory of those moments spent suspended between consciousness and unconsciousness consisted of feeling her pressing a kiss to his shoulder, then her hands rubbing up and down his waist to slip lower and lower until they settled on the waistband of his underwear. It was then that he woke to find her looking up at him for permission from where she peppered kisses along his chest.

Their eyes met right as she kissed the edge of his nipple with this pleading, needy look that he took pride in causing without actively attempting to. She woke up on the brink of coming undone from a pleasant—to put it tamely—dream about him. With a glimpse at the time displayed on the alarm clock, it didn't take much for her to roll over to wake him up.

It ended with her beneath the sheet, finishing what she started Friday afternoon until he was clutching the pillow beneath his head in the midst of his orgasm. It happened so fast, a fault of how hot he found it to wake up to her wanting him so badly, but it felt slower than it truly was in the early morning haze of exhaustion they felt.

The memory as he relives it is as heady as it felt the first time around. He sees it in fractions; her eyes looking up at his, warm palms finding the familiar planes of his muscular body with the exploratory touch of someone who's never traveled it before, and the intense sensations he felt at the end...It's easy for him to stand here and lose himself in it. Despite the class he has to go to, he bargains with himself for one more second spent in the paradise of his memories before he has to come back to reality.

Reality, as his shitty luck would have it, comes in the form of a familiar feminine voice chirping from behind his back as he replays his morning bliss.

"It's good to see you're alive and well, Maybank."

He decides, based on who he knows he'll see when he turns around, that he might invest in a sharpie to write "Bang head here" on the inside of his locker door for instances like these where he'd rather suffer brain damage than speak to someone he can't stomach the presence of.

When he turns to see Kacey with one arm still stretched to hold his locker open, he doesn't bother concealing the genuine reaction from his face for the sake of her feelings. Any care he had for her and her feelings was thrown to the wind as soon as she decided she could steal from and put her hands on his girl last week. However, after a second of thought, a condescending smirk finds its way to his face.

He says, jerking his chin to vaguely gesture at her bruised up face, "Purple really suits your complexion. It makes your eyes pop, don't you think?"

Though the swelling of her black eye has deflated in the days since the fight that’ll soon tally up to a week, the verbal jab hits right where it intended to if the light leaving her eyes tells him anything. She bounces back after a second, though, ever the relentless pest they've come to see her as.

She offers a sickeningly sweet, yet fake smile to mirror the one gracing his striking features and spins so her back meets the locker beside his, allowing herself to invade his space further.

A collection of Y/N's stickers decorates the inside of his locker door that he briefly entertained the idea of designating as a place to bang his head against. They range from girly, glittery ones to those he willingly picked when she gave him the choice. Whenever they're at his locker together, she sticks one on the inside, and the evidence of the habit catches Kacey's wandering eyes.

Her fingertips brush against the surface of the sticker-covered metal while she ignores his protest of, "Can you not touch my stuff?" to inspect them. Since one of the Pogues in particular is famous for her endless supply of stickers, her expression sours at the thought of the girl responsible for them.

She spares him a quick glance out of the corner of her eye as she continues to analyze the sticker collection against his instructions not to, asking, "Why weren't you at the bonfire?" A failed attempt at a seductive look in his direction makes him fight not to roll his eyes. "After how last year's ended, I thought you wouldn't miss it for the world."

JJ doesn't bother to take a second to think things through before he reaches to slam the door closed with her hand still outstretched inside of it. Watching her pull it away just in time to avoid jamming it in the locker probably pleases him more than it should, but he can't help it. His hand catches on the edge of the door, halting it in place right before it closes where her hand previously rested.

She doesn't look too happy with him when he opens the door with no harm done except for the drop of her stomach when he initially pretended to swing it shut on her bruised knuckles. She didn't get many shots in on Y/N when they fought, but apparently it was enough.

He doesn't bother with the fake niceties she's giving him after the disrespect she showed him, his friends, and, most importantly, his girlfriend. The fact that she thinks she has any right to breathe in his direction, let alone flirt with him, after she stole JB's bandana is criminal. 'Cause not only did she mess with Y/N, she messed with John B on multiple levels, and his loyalty to his best friend hasn't disappeared with death. Kie and Y/N told him everything she said about their departed friend in the locker room last Thursday.

But he's smart enough to know what'll hurt her more, so he doesn't go for the general scolding he imagined giving her in his head. Since he was told everything about the encounter in the locker room, he knows she's still holding their history together near and dear to her heart.

"We stayed home," he says, casual and cool as always, with added emphasis on the first word, "You know how it is, my girl doesn't like parties. Especially not ones with kooks."

Hook, line, and sinker.

She scoffs, "Your girl?"

Looking at her now, he wonders if she was always this stupid, or if this is a new development she's had in the year since he last spent more than a minute or two at a time with her. It’s easier to trick her than it was with Kie and Y/N a few days ago, and those poor girls flew into that trap like moths to a flame.

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

The ire is visible in the way her face tenses up in places, her lips pressing together a little more firmly and her forehead creasing between the brows.

"Doesn't your, um, history bother her?" she asks, and he's gotta give her credit for being a sneaky little shit when given the chance. The girl takes every possible opening she can to strike for a potential weakness. "No offense, but you kinda get around."

He shrugs this time, deciding to drop his casual act and aim straight for the jugular.

"She likes having someone who knows how to fuck her right, actually, but I really appreciate the concern."

Much like Kie's reaction to their matching tattoos in the hot tub the other night, her jaw is unhinged to meet the unswept hallway floor they stand on. It makes him wish Y/N weren't suspended in order for her to see the gobsmacked reaction Kacey has to the harsh dismissal. Though he wouldn't want to incite an extra round of the Kacey vs Y/N WWE showdown by having her watch another girl flirt with him and essentially call him a slut upon rejection, he knows she'd get a kick out of it.

This one's for you, baby, he thinks with a quiet laugh to himself and turns his focus to the sticker collection she so lovingly crafted.

There are plenty of summer themed ones left over from the same pack he gifted her for her birthday with the surfboard sticker she used to tease him, as well as a newer genre of Valentine's Day stickers she started using the closer they grew since first getting together. They're mostly different colored candy hearts with corny phrases ranging from "U SXY THING" to the classic "BE MINE" and one printed with "ANGEL" on it—his favorite by far.

However, others are random ones from her endless stash built up over the years from birthdays and holidays deemed worthy enough by her dad to stop by Dollar Tree for a new pack, so the one he sets his attention on is likely meant for teachers or coaches to give to their students. The opportunity appears too good to be true to him when it clicks, but it isn't.

He peels the sticker off of the locker door, careful not to disturb the ones around it, and leans in closer to her to place it on the front of her tank top.

"Leave us alone or I won't stop her next time," JJ says lowly, past the point of civility, then backs away to slam his locker shut for real this time as his voice raises back to a normal volume, "And keep John B's name out of your mouth, got it?"

All she can do is look down at the sticker placed on her shirt with squinted eyes to try and read it while he walks off in the direction of his next class. It tears away from the fabric with a soft noise, and when she finally reads it, she rolls her eyes.

“Good Try!”

​​Walking out of school to see the Twinkie parked in the usual spot Y/N takes when she isn't suspended is a delightful treat he didn't know to expect after a rough day in class and his run in with Kacey. His head was hung low on his way to Kie's car to hitch a ride to his house before going home to the Chateau, since he had some things to pick up with his dad out of the picture for the near future, but then he heard her greet them.

JJ's body melts into hers upon contact, and he nearly pushes her up against the closed passenger side door of the van with how hard he hugs her. Though he doesn't want to acknowledge it, his dad has been living in his thoughts more than usual today. Ever since he texted him goodbye, he's been withdrawn inside of his head more and more, and after today's inconveniences, the rising anxiety of his plan to visit home has him two seconds from losing his mind.

Her eyes widen at his zeal, meeting Kie's concerned gaze from over the shoulder she rests her chin on. She stands with her keys swinging around her finger as she watches the couple embrace one another. In an answer to the silent question Y/N asks her in their stare, her lips mouth the words, "His dad," to her.

Deep down, Y/N had a feeling.

It began with his impromptu request to run away with her a few days ago and extended into his uncharacteristically reserved attitude the next morning that receded somewhat, but has yet to fully disappear. There is a part of her that's upset that he hasn't come to her to talk about it, to communicate the way they swore they would, yet she also knows it isn't that simple.

She has to remind herself that she knew what she was getting herself into with him. That's not to say that dating her must be a walk in the park for him, it isn't.

She knows based on the amount of times he had to hold her as she cried, or the time he curtailed her panic attack in this very parking lot, that she hasn't made it easy for him in the aftermath of John B's death. But it's because she knows how it feels that she has such patience with his communication issues.

It's not a conscious choice most times, it's an involuntary blockage preventing the words from being spoken no matter how desperately they long to be. They may have made a promise, but she won't chastise him for succumbing to the same pitfalls as her. It’d be hypocritical.

"Bad day?" she asks.

Her voice is tender with him, prodding gently for a clue as to why he pounced on her on sight. He sinks further into her arms at the sound and lets the sanctity of her touch sway him into submission. Everything about her sets him at ease, if only for a second. Her hand lifts the beat-up red hat from his head to allow the other to brush through his hair.

There's a hum of agreement that she feels vibrating through the center of his chest into hers, and her arms pull tighter around his shoulders in response. This time, when she looks up to see Kie there, she's waving a quick goodbye and setting off toward her car, clearly giving JJ the space he needs.

"We can go to the beach," she says softly, "I have a towel in the back of the van, we can just lay there and talk about it if you want."

The idea of her kind offer to him should add to the comfort he finds in her embrace. It should make him nod and whisper his gratitude to her for being the one person that knows him better than anyone, but it brings him back to the gloomy headspace he was in before seeing her.

It started as a minor distraction when he first arrived at school after carpooling with Kie. It followed him in the quieter moments, only making appearances when he wasn't distracted with more pressing matters. It began as that and built the closer the day came to ending. The sooner his inevitable visit back to his childhood home came, the more he lost himself in his fear, reverting back to a state of helplessness he now occupies with no small amount of shame.

His bottom lip trembles with the urge to cry.

"Can we stop somewhere on the way home first?"

The last place she expected him to drive the Twinkie is here.

As they made their way down each street, taking each turn necessary to bring them closer to the house he seldom let her go to over the course of their lifelong friendship, she felt her heart begin to race. And now, as the van rolls to a stop in the yard in front of his house, she has swallow back the lump in her throat at the sight of it.

She has only been here a few times.

The first time, she was seven years old.

It was a sweltering summer morning in the Outer Banks for her and John B as they set off to retrieve their friend after he missed their plans to meet up at the Chateau for a day of having fun, riding bikes, and playing on the boat. Pirates and Princesses was her favorite game to play with them because JJ would switch roles with her halfway through when she grew tired of being the damsel John B had to rescue from the most cruel and vicious Captain Jesse James Maybank.

The HMS Pogue would rock beneath his feet as he marched across the deck of the boat and took her place as the kidnapped Princess Routledge. He handed off his "sword" to her, a stick he found in the yard, and stood at the edge of the boat with his hands behind his back as though he were a tied up damsel in distress for her to hold captive. The sun setting behind them laid a picturesque backdrop that made the scene all the more vivid to their imaginative young minds.

The boat floated in the afternoon current as John B approached the pair with his best pretend face of worry for the fair Princess Maybank, who had the sharp sword of the pirate queen pressing into his throat with the threat of death should he have tried to escape.

Sometimes, she'd let John B advance on them and tie make believe rope around her wrists and ankles while he and Princess Maybank claimed their victory. Other times, they'd get backed up until the heels of her sneakers hung off the edge of the slippery deck. One move from her brother would have her yell something along the lines of not taking either of them alive, then she'd let her and JJ fall back into the marsh together with gleeful laughs infiltrating the humid air upon their return to the surface.

On the day he didn't show up, none of that happened. She and John B rode their bikes together along sidewalks until they pulled into a driveway marked with the address number he remembered from the other time he sought him out to play before.

Y/N didn't understand what they were hearing when they pushed their kickstands down and called out for their friend, but John B's little face blanched at the sound flooding out of the opened windows of the dilapidated yellow house. It was a combination of banging against the walls, glass shattering, and childlike shouts of frustration and pain. Her big brother placed himself in front of her protectively when the front door opened and smacked against the side of the house, but it wasn't his dad storming out of the house, it was JJ.

His eyes widened at the sight of the siblings standing there, and his heart dropped to his stomach at the realization that they heard it. Maybe not all of it, but based on how the girl peeking out around John B's shoulder looked at him, they heard some.

The van is parked in the exact same place their bikes once were, the exact place she and John B stood years ago when they were first confronted with the harsh reality about their best friend's home life, and he looks like he has fully backpedaled into the state of mind his childhood self inhabited. Even when he turns the key in the ignition and lets the rumbling engine sputter down in silence, he sits in the driver's seat with his lip drawn between his teeth in thought.

Yet as soon as she summons the courage to say something, he takes a deep breath and opens the door without a warning or the typical instruction for her to stay in the car. He doesn't tell her to follow him in, nor does he order her to stay out as he used to when his dad still lived inside. He gives her the choice to make on her own, and, when faced with the opportunity to support him or stay outside like the confused little girl she once was, she chooses the first option.

Her swift steps kick dirt up from the earth onto her ankles as she follows him out of the van to the front steps of the house. She tries not to make her concern for him as evident as it'd be without her intervention on her way up the porch, but it's impossible to erase every sign of it from her face.

It isn't a particularly special or scary house. It's a normal home that'd likely look more inviting if JJ were still living here to mow the lawn and tend to the household upkeep his father saddled him with since he was old enough to be put to work. But she knows better than to trust the street appeal. As he takes her hand to lead them through the threshold of the haunted structure, she is overcome with a sense of creeping trepidation that she can't shake.

"You're sure he isn't here?" she asks.

The entryway is crowded with stacks of mail his father wasn’t bothered to open, as well as empty cardboard boxes that once held cans of beer that are scattered, empty, in various places around the house. Her question is answered by the state of the rooms they breeze past in the direction of his bedroom, but she needed something to say to fill the silence. With them, they usually don’t feel uncomfortable not speaking to each other, but this feels different.

The way he stares out in front of him with his hand squeezing hers hard enough to cut off circulation unnerves her more than the tainted energy of the house itself. He isn't himself. He's a shell of the JJ they know and love, the JJ who is most comfortable tucked away in the safe walls of the Chateau with their friends, not here. If anything, how he is while he's here is the antithesis of his behavior while living with her.

Ever since John B died, he's practically moved in with her. When they're hidden away in her house without the reminders of his home life in sight, he's usually the caretaker of the relationship. It comes naturally to their dynamic, both with him being slightly older and his promise to take care of her, but everything is flipped here. It's an alternate reality for him, or, perhaps, actual reality smacking him in the face after a carefully constructed two months in utopia with her.

They come to a stop in front of his closed bedroom door.

"He's gone," he says, not even sparing a glance at her for reasons she can't decipher, "He texted me a few days ago to say goodbye."

With that, he turns the doorknob and lets the door swing open to reveal the bedroom she only saw one other time.

The second time, she was thirteen years old.

It was a Friday.

Since his dad was supposed to be at work, they stopped at his house on their way home from school exactly like they did today so he could share with their friends what he got from his cousin the night before. Being the good girl she was, she didn't even know what he was showing her when he dug it out of the backpack in the bottom of his closet.

Her brows furrowed at the ziploc bag, more specifically the contents inside of it. She was knelt down on the floor in front of the opened closet door with her shoulder pressed up against his to inspect it. The dried green cluster of a plant didn't look like anything she'd seen before, and she couldn't help but ask him what the hell it was rather than react the way he knew the others would.

"What is it? It looks like dried up moss."

JJ laughed and pulled another bag with rolling papers and a grinder stowed inside.

"It's weed. My cousin Ricky gave me a discount since—"

He halted mid-sentence abruptly enough to startle her, his head turning in the direction of where he heard a trunk pulling up to the front of the house. Her stare was still set on where he was holding the plastic bags in his hands, and she noticed, after he stopped speaking in reaction to his dad coming home, that his hands began trembling. It was so minimal, she almost didn't catch it until she saw the bag wavering under the light coming in from his window.

Before she could open her mouth to say anything more, she felt his hands on her shoulders shoving her into the closet. He followed in closely behind her and crawled in until they were both crammed into the confined space together. With the closet doors shut in front of them, he clamped a hand over her mouth, whispering in her ear for her to be quiet.

She stands with her arms crossed over herself in the center of his room, and though nothing has yet to be said or done to convince her anything is wrong, that's the exact reason why she feels so unnerved by the entire experience of coming here.

He's silent.

The closet doors are wide open as he stuffs the rest of the clothes he had yet to bring to the Chateau into the biggest bag he could find. He rips through his belongings in a fit of melancholy driven anger. His thoughts are swirling with similar memories to the ones she conjures from being here again, but his are tinged with a darkness hers don't have, even with hearing him crying in pain as a child and hiding in the closet with his hand smothering her mouth to evade his dad.

JJ visibly grimaces at the memories he's forced to relive in flashes with every glimpse he gets of the room he spent so much time hiding in. It used to be more tolerable to be here, or at least easier to suffer through. At least he was used to it before, but he got so accustomed to life somewhere else that the second he was confronted with coming back, he started to fall apart.

Whatever he can't live without, he finds space for it in the bag and prepares to leave the rest behind. But every object he touches and step he takes around the room brings him back to the person who he spent his adolescence simultaneously fleeing and wanting more from. More notably, it brings him back to the train of thought that has been nagging him ever since he texted him over the weekend.

The third and final time she came here was over the summer.

It happened right before Hurricane Agatha waged war on the island, when none of the Pogues heard from JJ for two days after he said he had to go home to help his dad with something. She didn't want to track him down to his house after they went over twenty-four hours without a single message. She didn't want to have to go back to the house that gave her chills to think about, let alone go to again after they hid in his closet when they were younger, but he gave her no other choice.

What was she supposed to do except go check on him where he last said he'd be? After all, if she lived in the hazardous environment he did, he'd do the exact same for her. If their friends were involved in her thoughts at the time, they would've gone out on a limb to say he would've gone beyond what she did to protect her if the situation were flipped. If he knew someone was hurting her, he would've come in swinging first and asked questions later, but, in her defense, he strictly told her to never come back to his house. By walking over in the first place, she was breaking one of the fundamental rules of their friendship.

Nevertheless, she found herself crouching around the side of his house to find his bedroom window and check if he was in there. Kie and Pope weren't aware of what was happening with his dad yet, but she and John B accidentally found out years ago, so she wasn't wondering why he wasn't answering them, she was wondering if he was alive.

Part of her truly thought underneath it all that Luke might've killed him. He might've been too drunk or high and went too far when beating him, too far to the point where he didn't want to risk going to jail to take him to the hospital for help. She couldn't live with herself if she didn't check, and if he got pissed at her for showing up against his wishes and didn't want to speak to her ever again, she could live with that.

She knocked on his window in a cadenced beat loud enough for it to heard through the room but not any further. After the first series of knocks, no one came to the window. It ripped her heart to pieces to wonder if she'd see him again as she continued to knock and allowed the sound to increase in volume in hopes that maybe he was asleep, but it didn't bring anyone to the window.

It wasn't until she turned back around to go to the front of the house again that she bumped right into the solid wall of his chest and was pushed back up against the house. The question of what she was doing there was on the tip of his tongue, but she said something that stopped him from asking it.

Her arms were thrown around his shoulders in a desperate bear hug.

"Oh God, JJ, you scared me half to death!" she cried into the front of his shirt, "I thought he killed you!"

He can't help but think of it as he packs his belongings away for a final time to bid his hellish childhood home goodbye: What kind of life are they going to have together if they can't get off this island? Running away may have been an idealistic drunken fantasy for him to entertain after his conversation with Pope got him to admit his true feelings for her, but they both know his consistency can't be trusted.

One moment, he's planning to tell her. The next, a day like today comes along, sweeps his legs out from beneath his body, and he's questioning whether it's worth it to force her to put up with his fickle commitment to her. It isn't fair to her, is it?

Right now is just about when he'd normally start to hyperventilate with an oncoming wave of panic, and he does, but he can't let it fully sweep into him with her here. He fights the urge to smack his head with the heel of his palm, as if that'd forcibly remove the poisonous thoughts infiltrating his mind and ruining the careful work they've done together to remedy their issues with communicating their feelings.

Just like you ruin everything, a thought whispers in the corner of his mind. What made you think this would be any different?

His actions around the room have turned somewhat aimless and distracted, which she notices as soon as he starts to disintegrate into a mess of heavy breaths and self-sabotaging thoughts. She picks up on the shift in his energy as soon as the anxiety starts to wash over him, and she'll be damned if she continues to stand here quietly to let it happen.

It's one thing if he's being silent because being here upsets him, or if he simply doesn't know what to say, but she refuses to let him tailspin into a mental breakdown without doing something to stop it. Whether he knows it or not, after what they went through with him trying to push her away last week, she knows what's occurring within his mind right now.

He flinches at the feeling of her hand grabbing his shoulder to turn him to face her at first, and when she reaches again with her other hand to try to hold his hand as he cries, he shrugs off her touch.

"JJ..." she lets the solemn sound of her own voice murmuring his name trail off, "it's just me."

His head shakes at her consoling words. Everything else inside of his mind is so earth-shatteringly loud, he can't drown it out with logic or reason to bring himself away from the memories of his dad. Those intrusive thoughts keep attacking him with doubled, then tripled force the harder he tries to resist them, and he's so exhausted from it. All of it—the memories, his dad going to jail, and his inability to accept her love to its fullest extent without convincing himself she'll abandon him—is exhausting.

This time, when she rests her hand on his shoulder, he swats it away as the frustration of today crushing him with the force of an avalanche. Not to hurt or scare her, but to get her hands off of him before he bursts out of his skin with the sickness it stirs in his stomach. So detached from himself, he anticipates pain from every touch she gives him, and he knows it hurts her.

JJ hardly recognizes his own voice as he backs away from her a step and says, "Don't."

He can tell it hurts her based on how she looks at him immediately after, but he can't handle being touched right now. How did this happen so quickly? It was overwhelming when they first parked outside, but as soon as he stepped foot inside, it was as if a switch was flipped inside of him and all of the buried feelings he kept hidden over the past two weeks exploded into this.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"You need to leave. I just-I can't breathe and"—He still refuses to look up from the ground or see her face as he paces around the room with no real intent in mind—"You can't see me like this."

That is what breaks her out of her soft spoken, timid attitude to handle the situation the way it needs to be handled. Their natural dynamic worked best for him to take charge when she had her panic attack because JJ acts first and thinks later. He saw that she was in distress and jumped in to help her before things got worse rather than allowing her to keep him at an arms length where he couldn't do anything about it.

Taking a page from his rule book, she takes action.

The room surrounding them is in a state of disarray from him searching through it for the items of clothing and objects now stashed in his duffel bag. There are multiple obstacles in her way as she steps between them like navigating a minefield to reach him after he backed away in instinctual fear, but they don't stop her from reaching him. Nothing could.

Y/N walks right up to him and reaches to grasp his face between her hands, forcing him to stop pacing around and actually look at her for the first time since they arrived her so he hears what she says. To say the least, the way he looks right now is enough to make her cry. There are tears welled up to the brims of his blue eyes, his lips are downturned with his sobs, and he's staring at her like she's about to strike him.

She says it as slowly and clearly as she needs to get it through his head, "He's not here," and before he manages to squeeze out another word of doubt between his rapid inhalations, she cuts in, "Take deep breaths."

He isn't listening to her.

The movement of his chest that hits hers from how close they stand to each other has yet to settle into the familiar pace she remembers from nights of falling asleep with the rhythm of his breaths beneath her head.

Her eyes search his face frantically, from left to right and top to bottom, for any sign of the person she's known for years, but she doesn't see him. Instead, she sees the same panicked child her and John B saw the first time they visited this house. It's uncanny how similar the expression in his face is. It feels to her as if she's been hurled back in time to the moment itself, and when she tries to think about what would've worked with him back then, she doesn't know what else to do except help him escape.

So, with the helplessness of having to watch him turn into a sobbing, incoherent mess, she decides to step into the darkness with him and do what seven year old Y/N would've done. Just like their games of make believe, of pirates and princesses, she assumes the role John B would have and rescues him from what holds him captive. It’s his own mind in this case, but, in the physical sense, it's the house.

She drops her hands from his face and takes his hand in hers to drag him out of the room. The packed bag sits on the floor in their wake as she pulls him back through the bedroom door and into the living room, not caring about what they came here to do.

It doesn't matter anymore.

The various rooms of his dad's house pass by them in a blur as she leads him down the hallway to the front door with one sole objective in mind: get him out of here. If he wants his stuff to bring back to the Chateau, she'll go back inside and get whatever he needs her to, but she isn't letting him inside of this house again. Not under her watch.

Thankfully, since he is undeniably stronger than her and she wouldn't have stood a chance, he doesn't fight it. He stumbles after her guiding hand the same way he always has, just like how he followed her back to the Chateau after she and John B saw him that day when they were kids. She led the way as he sat on the handlebars of her brother's bike, and he watched her hair flutter in the wind with the momentum of their bicycle spokes until the tears dried up.

He watches her drag him out of the home until they've reached the safety of the yard at the bottom of the porch steps, and as soon as the soles of her shoes meet the dirt, she feels his hand slipping out of hers.

"JJ?"

She turns around to see him clutching his chest, rubbing his hand along the front of his shirt over his heart as though it'll loosen up the tightened muscles preventing him from catching his breath. His body weight is leaned onto the railing of the porch steps for support. He's partially slumped on it, looking at her desperately, like she somehow knows the answer to every question screamed inside of his head, and she has never felt as useless.

"You're gonna leave," JJ says through the gasps and cries that leave his cheeks stained with tears.

When she reaches out again to help him remain upright without leaning over the railing, he doesn't shove her hands away as he did inside of his bedroom. It's a small battle won, but she takes it as a win nonetheless.

"What are you saying? I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere—"

"You're gonna leave! Everybody does! My mom, John B, my dad, and you"—his head falls to look at the ground instead of her, and she watches him work through it in his head—"I mean, look at me. You don't want this."

"Don't tell me what I want," she says.

Her voice remains as steady and calm as she can force it to be amidst the turbulent situation, but the way he said it...It takes her right back to sitting in the back of the Twinkie with him at the Cherry Bowl, except it's ten times worse. That felt like a break up, but based on what he's saying, this is one. She hasn't prepared herself for the heartache she feels in response to it.

"You don't want me, you just think you do 'cause I was there after John B died, but you don't. You're gonna go off, find some perfect guy that isn't as fucked up as me, and have a great life somewhere else, but it ain't here," JJ says, his breathing evening out with the distraction of the argument to keep him tethered tor reality, "And it won't be with me."

He can see it every time he's looked at her and debated saying those three titular words that have been floating around in his head since he first met her.

How could she want someone who can't walk into his childhood bedroom without breaking down, or someone who still has years-old scars from cigarette burns on his skin when she touches him? Her bright future contrasted with his pre-designated fate on the Cut, her personality better matched with someone more similar to her, her life continuing on whether he's there or not—it's his worst nightmare, but he's prepared to see it through.

What he doesn't expect is for her to hold her ground.

"You honestly think I'm buying into that bullshit?" she asks.

"What?"

She doesn't put it softly, she states facts with as much harshness as his cruel fantasy had, "You're trying to push me away and I won't let you."

Her typically sweet, soft features have hardened into a bitter expression he's sure he mirrors. The arms holding his waist to keep him upright move to climb up his chest and cup his face between her hands with all of the gentleness her face and voice don't have right now.

She sees right through him.

When he tries to look away again, to avert his eyes to make what he's trying to do easier on himself by not having to look at her when he does it, her grasp on his face holds firm. Her hands guide his chin back up so they're face to face, and he realizes what a mistake everyone makes in assuming her this dainty, broken girl whose only source of strength came from the brother she lost. She's a forest fire.

"You're not hearing what I'm saying—"

Y/N interjects, "I am hearing what you're saying, I'm just saying it's bullshit."

She refuses to let him off the hook, and though it frustrates him on the surface, deep down, it makes him fall in love with her all over again. Her insistence against his speech about her leaving him proves him wrong more than anything else could, 'cause he gave her the perfect chance to dip and she shot it down instantly.

The house looms behind them as a menacing presence that threatens to take control of him again, but she doesn't let it. She keeps his eyes on her no matter how many times he tries to look away and doesn't let anything get in the way of what she says next.

"You think that if you push me away and get me to leave you right now, it'll hurt less than it would if I did it later, and I don't accept that. I won't take the bait and let you torture yourself anymore, okay? I can't speak for anyone else, but I know I'll never leave you. Not willingly, anyway."

She looks into his eyes, and this time its softer, more loving, and he's never felt as understood as he does when she continues to speak.

"I'm in love with you. Whether it scares you or not, it's the truth, and I'll never stop saying it. If you think that your issues with your dad are gonna change that for me, you've officially lost your mind." Their noses brush as she leans in to ghost a kiss over his mouth and pulls away a second later to whisper, her forehead pressed to his, "I love you, JJ. Stop being so stubborn and just let me."

His next breath in trembles as he lets her words sink in, and he's stuck at a crossroads inside of himself without a clue of what to do.

The breeze blows her hair away from her face, the afternoon sunshine painting her golden, and when he sees her hair flutter in the air like it did so many years ago, he can't help but feel as calm as he did during their bike ride home. The further away he got from his dad and the house where it all happened, the calmer he grew, and it hits him at this moment that he's so taken aback by her confession to him, he forgot why he was so upset.

It's sobering. The intoxication of his panic hurtled him back in time to the frightened, childlike state of mind his dad's violent abuse often sent him to, but it was hearing her say those words he's feared for weeks that brought him back. Like the jolt of a defibrillator, he's roused back to life with more clarity than before.

She loves him, but, perhaps more importantly, she said she'd never leave him, and that is what he needed to hear more than anything. That is the statement worth more to him than the four letter word he has agonized over endlessly. No one else every attached the promise of "I love you" with the stipulation of it lasting forever. They said the empty words and contradicted it with their actions, but she hasn't done that. Her actions spoke the words long before her mouth did.

He sighs.

It's a deep, yearning sigh that sends him melting into her with the acceptance of what he's denied for too long. He savors the hands cradling his head, as well as the body pressed up against his that he has memorized down to every beauty mark and imperfection, and makes the right choice.

It isn't like it was the night at the Cherry Bowl, or the night he spoke to Pope about it. It still takes more bravery than he possesses to form the words, but there isn't a physical incapability stopping him anymore. It's just him against the trauma beckoning him into its trap again, and he won't let it lure him back into that house.

"Alright," JJ says to her through a sniffle in acceptance to her command, as if he were agreeing on afternoon surfing plans rather than something as monumental as allowing someone to love him, then continues onto with a timid tone, "I love you too."

Before he can watch for her reaction, she's surging forward through the few inches of space left between them to connect their lips in a kiss.

It's vastly different to the kiss they shared in the hallway at school last Friday. In contrast to that one, the reigning emotion within him that drives the kiss after the hesitant beginning doesn't lead them into increased intensity, it gets gentler. It doesn't explode into chaos and passion, it's a tired kiss that he never wants to retreat from. It's the physical manifestation of his feelings for her underneath the guarded exterior he uses to protect himself: gentle and yielding, yet undeniably powerful.

He feels her smiling through her tears against his mouth. In the face of everything that happened this afternoon, he doesn't feel like he should be smiling back at her, but he does. He smiles while kissing her with tears streaming down his face, still reeling from his traumatic response to coming home for the final time, and wonders how a person can feel such contradicting emotions all at once.

Y/N is the one who starts to pull away first, though it's only to check in on him. If she had it her way, she could stay here with him until the sun sets, but he did just come back from the brink of a full-blown panic attack, so she can't in good conscience ignore his well-being for the momentary bliss of their love confessions.

Her thumb brushes over his bottom lip, her smile drooping with worry as she asks, "Wanna spend the rest of the day on the boat? You always say being on the water makes you feel better. Maybe it'll make it easier to talk about it."

His Adam's apple bobs with how he swallows the lump in his throat.

"Can we maybe take baby steps for now? I don't think I can handle telling you all that shit yet."

It was already enough to allow her to follow him into the house, watch him break down into a fit of panic no one else has seen him in, and tell her he loved her, but it'd cross the line into uncharted territory to talk about everything between him and his dad so openly. Between the minor annoyance of dealing with Kacey to this hellish visit home, he thinks he's reached his quota on feeling uncomfortable today.

She nods in agreement.

"Baby steps."

Drawn back to each other by a force stronger than gravity, they collide again, but it isn't a kiss this time. It's a hug charged with all of the previously unspoken emotions they've buried inside of themselves for years, the same hug she gave him the last time she came to this house with the fear of his potential death lingering in her thoughts.

She throws herself at him with the same desperation she did that day and relishes the feeling of his muscular arms returning the embrace until their bodies are tangled together. She'd usually never refer to something as inherently affectionate as an embrace as violent, but it's the closest she can come to capturing how it feels as their bodies meet. It makes her lose her footing on the bottom step they stand on together, teetering on the edge she'd surely slip off of with the force if not for him keeping her steady.

He's about to say something, a thank you to her for calling him out on his bullshit and not letting him go that easily, when the grating sound of her ringtone blares from the back pocket of her denim shorts.

The contact popping up on the screen along with a series of frantic messages when she pulls away from him to answer shows Pope's name.

Pope You and JJ need to get back to the Chateau ASAP!!

The van doors slam shut behind Y/N and JJ as soon as it rolls to a stop in front of the Chateau.

Under the assumption that something dire happened, as in injury or death or catastrophic damage to the house itself, they bolted off of that porch faster than they knew they could move. She only turned back when she remembered the packed back of JJ's things they abandoned on his bedroom floor and, not wanting him to reenter the house, she brought it back to the Twinkie in record time.

They're preparing to trample up the porch into the house like a stampede of animals when they hear Kie calling them over to the backyard and change direction.

"No one's hurt!" she shouts, knowing that was likely where their minds went after everything they went through during the summer, "You have to see this though, I don't know who did it!"

Sticks and fallen leaves crunch beneath her feet on her way around the side of the house. Her mind races with the possibility of what could've happened that didn't hurt their friends but necessitated a series of texts and calls as frantic as the ones she received at JJ's house. She drove over here in defiance of the speed limit, something she rarely does, and prayed nothing terrible was happening.

It gave her flashbacks to when she found out John B and Sarah died in the storm. The pedal beneath her foot brought the van to an uncomfortably swift speed, then she remembered the sound of Shoupe's voice when he gave them the news. JJ warned her to slow down, then she remembered how it took multiple people to help her restrain him from attacking the new sheriff for letting his men drive their friends into their deaths.

At first, she doesn't realize what's wrong.

Kiara and Pope are standing and waiting for them across the grass near the large tree that sits as a centerpiece to their yard. Based on the body language screaming their frustration and the tears in their eyes, she can tell something bad did happen, but it's not clear what it is until she looks past them to the tree. More specifically, until she looks at what's on the tree.

"Oh my god," she whispers to herself.

Her hand is already up to cover her mouth and conceal the instantaneous frown besmirching her previously relaxed face. They both are stopped in their tracks halfway to where their friends are standing, and she can’t hear JJ's reaction over the rising volume of her hysterical thoughts.

Spray painted in red on top of their memorial for John B are the words "COP KILLER" in bold letters that conceal what they burned into the tree trunk for his gravestone. It sticks out from the beauty of the greens, browns, blues, and swathes of other earthy tones composing the scenery around the Chateau like a thorn amongst flowers, so much so that she wonders how she didn't instantly see it when they rounded the corner to come back here.

Yet that isn't the only thing amiss in the peaceful sanctuary they call home, there are random things strewn around the ground around the tree. An old t-shirt spray painted with the word "murderer" on the front, four ripped up envelopes, and a gorgeous mahogany jewelry box...broken on the grass.

The freshly turned dirt they had the contents of the box buried beneath is scattered around the trashed area as well. It clicks with her a few seconds late that whoever came here to do this must have seen the pinwheel she put in the ground to mark the "grave" and dug it up to add insult to injury.

She moves forward without consciously realizing it and stumbles until she reaches the first object of the debris field. Before this, she was doing a masterful job of holding in her cries, but as soon as she crouches down to pick up the pieces of the jewelry box, the lid snapped clean off the hinges to separate it from the bottom section, it comes rushing out of her against her will. The first unrestrained keen is the first thing to snap JJ out of his shell shocked trance.

He walks after her as fast as his legs will take him without breaking into a run, but she isn't letting him get close before she puts the box back down and shuffles forward to collect the torn letter remains. She doesn't want them to get blown away by the wind anymore than they already might have been, so she scrambles to gather the pieces until they're cupped in her hands to protect them.

"Why?" she asks and looks up at Kie and Pope with tears dripping down her face, "Why would anyone do this? Who would do this?"

Pope says, "My guess is as good as yours. We didn't see anyone leaving when we got here, so it must've happened before school ended. This is all we saw before we called you guys."

For a second or two, JJ is grasping at straws for why this happened and who did it like the rest of them are, but then something Pope said makes it click into place. It sets off a domino effect in his mind as he brings back the memory of a certain offspring of satan being absent from gym this afternoon despite being at school earlier, since his encounter with her before Physics made him, unfortunately, aware of her existence again.

His face is set in anger, jaw clenching with the tension of him grinding his teeth together, and he takes his hat off to fidget with it between his hands for a second. Their friends are too focused on her crying to see him contemplating it, but as soon as he speaks, they look up to see him setting his hat back onto his head in preparation to leave and track Kacey down.

Y/N's head snaps up from the torn letters in her hands to the sight of him storming off across the yard with his only goodbye being the words, "I'm gonna kill that bitch."

Her and Pope stare after him in shock, unable to put the pieces together about who that "bitch" is, but Kie doesn't miss a single beat. While Y/N is crumpled over on the ground in tears, she's rushing after JJ before he can approach the bike parked in front of the house. He doesn't even make it five steps before he feels her hands latching onto his wrist to stop him.

She asks, "Who the hell are you talking about? And why would they do this?"

His eyes narrow at her. His unreleased frustration for the situation in general and having to watch Y/N cry after an emotional afternoon together comes rushing out when he snaps at her.

"Kacey. She talked shit at school and I put her in her place. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna pay her a little visit."

He yanks his arm sharply towards himself to free it from her grip, but she's a step ahead of him. Quicker than he can think to stop her, Kie swipes the keys hanging out of his back pocket away and throws them to Pope, who, bless his heart, can't catch to save his life. The key ring jingles with its contact at the dead center of his chest, and she mouths an apology to him before turning back to face JJ.

"What the fuck, Kie?"

He makes to stomp past her and retrieve the keys from Pope only to be stopped by her hands reaching out to grab his shoulders.

"Listen to me, you can't go anywhere. Look at her," she whispers lowly enough to keep Y/N from hearing, pointing behind her to where she sits on the ground with Pope knelt beside her, "I wouldn't put it past Kacey to pull a stunt like this. I'm just as mad as you, but revenge can wait and you know it. She needs you."

The fury visible in his expression is subdued by looking past Kie's shoulder to see Y/N crying softly to Pope about the vandalized memorial.

The last time he saw her so distraught over something, it was the day they made the memorial and buried the box in the first place. She sits on her knees with her mom's broken jewelry box between them, shuddering with the sobs she has no control over, and pours the torn paper into the empty bottom half of the box. Exhausted to the core, she looks more like a sullen, kicked puppy than she does herself.

It makes his anger-fueled instincts that urge him to hunt Kacey down and do something, anything he can to make her feel the pain they do right now bubble down into sorrow. It's visible in his eyes when he looks at her.

Kie knows she's gotten under his skin when he sighs, sparing a parting glance to the bike in the driveway, and nods once at her before setting off back to where they're sitting in the grass.

Meanwhile, Y/N is stuck staring down at the disarray of her backyard with nothing but pain aching through her to the bone.

Her brother did wrong things sometimes as a consequence of being human, but never this, never something worthy of having his name dragged through the mud and being branded a murderer after his death. He stole scuba gear from Ward and broke dozens of laws in their hunt for the gold, but he never crossed that line into moral bankruptcy. Rafe did, and it kills JJ to see someone like Kacey do this to his best friend while hanging off of Rafe and his friends like a leech.

The fabric of his worn t-shirt is tarnished by the dried paint clinging to the front of it to the spell the lie written there, and her vision blurs with tears for what feels like the millionth time in the span of an hour. First, it was JJ. Now, it's John B, and she can't help but wonder if the heartache will ever end. It began to feel better over the course of the week, her grief for him slowly beginning to slip from her mind until now. Until the storm clouds converged again to batter her with another wave of it.

Through the deafening volume of her mind racing with thoughts and feelings to process what's happened, she hears Pope shuffling around to stand on his feet. Then, another person sits down in his place and scoots closer until their bodies are touching, and she knows it's him. She doesn't have to wait to hear his voice or look to see his face, she can tell based on the feeling of his touch and the smell of him she's so intimately familiar with, yet couldn't describe it aloud if she tried.

He doesn't smother her. He sits close enough to touch her and doesn't push it any further.

The background of the pale, cloudless sky frames him in the foreground like the subject of a painting—a living, breathing painting that she could study endlessly. The other trees planted in the yard's leaves flutter distantly behind him and try to draw her gaze away, but she keeps her eyes on him.

Maybe that's how it is, she thinks.

Maybe it'll get better and worse in a dance that'll only stop when they're no longer here to agonize over it. Maybe this is what moving on from John B will always be like. It'll feel like they've made strides in the right direction, then something will come along to shatter it to sharp pieces that'll reopen their stitched up wounds. If that's the case, at least the four of them have each other to lean on when it gets worse again.

JJ sits with her and lets her crawl onto his lap, resting her head on his shoulder, until the sun sinks below the horizon.

The gentle bobbing of the HMS Pogue at the surface of the water steadies her amidst her eddying thoughts. It keeps her present to the moment the way the ropes tying the boat to the dock keeps it from floating adrift into the marsh. It's a motion engrained in her from the start of her life until now from countless days spent on the water. Whether it be for fishing, swimming, or playing make believe with her boys all those years ago, it's as much a part of her as her personality or body itself.

JJ was right about one thing: being out on the water makes it easier to think.

He hasn't followed her out since she woke up before sunrise and snuck out of bed to come here. Despite her efforts not to wake him, he woke up when she disentangled her body from his, silently cursing the fact that they always cuddle so closely, and he tried to pull her back to him with a whine of displeasure in his groggy, half-asleep state. Sleep finally found them after hours of staying up together to talk about what Kacey did, unable to relax from the chaos of yesterday, so he wasn't prepared to wake up that soon.

"Go back to sleep, angel," she whispered as she hovered over him, brushing a chaste kiss to his lips that he was too tired to return.

That was the last time she saw him since this morning, and now that the sun has risen to its peak in the sky without her moving an inch from her perch atop the bow of the boat, she's begun to wonder if he's awake yet. It isn't uncommon for them to sleep in for half of the day when there isn't school or work, so it isn't surprising to her that he's just now waking up when she hears the back door to the Chateau opening and closing.

Unbeknownst to her, JJ has been awake the entire morning since she left bed.

They were so attached to each other yesterday night, he didn't have the time to put it together without her seeing and ruining the surprise, but once he heard the door to the porch close to signify her leaving, he kicked the blankets off of himself and got to work. He wasn't originally planning on starting so early, since they stayed up late into the night together, but once he woke up to the feeling of her sneaking out of his arms, he was too awake to fall back asleep.

The sound of his footsteps on the dock warns her of his approach, but she doesn't raise her head from where she rests it in her palms to stare out at the water.

"I was wondering when you'd finally wake up," she says.

There's another few steps, then the boat jostles with his weight stepping onto it.

He doesn't say anything to her in response. The only clue she gets as to what he's doing are the footsteps on the deck that lead closer to her until she feels him sitting down on the bow next to where she is. And she's about to open her mouth to ask if he's okay when he sets something down in front of her.

It's a shoe box.

Y/N turns to see him, eyes flickering over his tired face, and looks back at the box with furrowed brows.

"What is this?"

His hair is messy, exactly how it was when she left him in bed this morning, and if she weren't more focused on the mysterious box he plopped down in front of her, she'd be combing through it with her fingers. He's gotten used to those casual displays of affection from her; how she runs her hands through his hair on mornings before school when he forgets to brush it, or when she fixes a button on his flannel that he missed.

JJ's lips are tipped in a smile, and she can't help but blush with how he looks at her. She never used to see it, but he has always looked at her like this. Like he's hopelessly, utterly in love with her. Even before they lost John B, back when he'd expend all of his romantic and sexual attention on girls he hardly knew, he still looked at her this way.

He gestures at it and says, "Open it."

The lid of the box is coated in a freshly dried layer of blue paint to match the shade of the sky overhead. She knows instantly that he must have dug through the arts and crafts box she specifically labeled with a warning for him and John B to stay out. It's painted with aimlessly sloppy brushstrokes and stickers placed at every corner of the cardboard box, all of which she recognizes from the stash she kept under her bed alongside the India ink he borrowed last Friday.

As she gives him a skeptical look and reaches to lift the lid off of the shoe box, she makes a mental note to rewrite the label on the arts and crafts box without the warning for him to keep out. Since John B isn't here to steal anything from it and JJ never follows that rule anyway, it's redundant at this point.

Any skepticism is washed away from her face as soon as she flips the lid open to reveal what's inside. It leaves her speechless as she looks down at it all.

"JJ..." she murmurs in awe.

Sitting at the bottom of it is a folded up t-shirt she saw JJ wear multiple times, but never again since John B died. He refused to glance at the shirt his best friend gave him the year before they never saw him again, let alone dig it out of the corner of her closet where he keeps his things...until now.

But that's a scratch on the surface of all of the things about his gift that stuns her to silence. The next thing to catch her immediate attention is a picture she hasn't seen in years.

It's one that Big John took of the three of them together right where she and JJ are sitting. She was much younger in it, flashing a toothy grin with her arms thrown over both boys' shoulders. To her left, John B was leaning his head on her shoulder. To her right, JJ was wearing an eyepatch they crafted out of an old black shirt he stole from his dad. It was cut with the kitchen scissors and tied around the back of his head in a knot.

She brushes her thumb over John B's face, then sets the crinkled photograph back down atop the folded shirt and moves her attention to the last surprise.

Letters.

Torn up pieces of paper painstakingly taped back together sit one on top of the other, some missing pieces here or there, and it makes her mouth part in shock. Her hands shuffle the letters apart to see each one and recognize the handwriting: Kie's bubbly, swirling letters, Pope's neat cursive, hers, and JJ's chicken scratch writing that she's able to decipher from years of proofreading his essays.

She pictures him at her desk all morning while she was sitting out here, ripping tape off of the roll and arranging the puzzle pieces of the ripped letters until he was sure he got it right. It made him want to rip the hair from his scalp, but he sat there and pushed through the frustration to make it as perfect as he could for her. The missing pieces were primarily from Kie's letter, which fluttered away on a balmy breeze when Kacey tore it up and threw it to the ground, but the one he wanted her to have the most wasn't missing more than a single piece.

Y/N looks up from the letters held like a precious treasure in her hands to see him watching her with that same classic JJ smile on his face, but he doesn't let her get a word in yet.

"Go on," he says, leaning closer to pull his letter to John B out and place it on top of the pile for her to read, "I want you to read it."

"You didn't let me read it when I asked before though, are you sure you—"

He interrupts her before she can worry herself over it, "Dude, just read it. I promise I'm fine with it. I want you to."

The letters crinkle under her touch as she looks back down and smooths them out on the deck enough to read through the clear tape. With one last confirming glance to him for permission, she takes a deep breath and reads the first line.

Dear John B,

You really know how to keep a guy on his toes, don't you? You really outdid yourself on this one. I was so sure we were gonna make it, but I guess you had to go all Romeo and Juliet on us, huh? As long as you and Sarah are happy macking on each other in heaven, it's okay.

In all seriousness, I fucking miss you, bro. I miss you more than I realized a person could miss another person. Whenever I need to talk to you again, I don't know what to do. I guess that's why it's good that Y/N made me write this.

Also, I'm really sorry for—

"What does it say there? There's a whole chunk missing," she murmurs.

He scoots close enough to her that she can feel his body warmth radiating onto her through the shoulder of his flannel. Sunlight reflects on the silver rings decorating his fingers as he holds one side of the paper to tilt it enough for him to squint at.

"Macking, I think. It's supposed to say "I'm sorry for macking on your sister."

—macking on your sister. You can totally kick my ass for it, but before you come back from the grave to murder me, let me defend myself, okay? She isn't just another girl for me, John B.

I think you knew it before I did.

Last summer, you asked me straight up if we were hooking up behind your back after I kissed her in front of you on the porch. I laughed in your face, but you were right.

You saw everything before me, man. You knew I loved her since we were kids and waited for us to come to you about it, so that's gotta mean something, right? I hope it means you wouldn't be mad at me for this.

I swear I won't fuck it up with her, but you already know that. That's why you asked me to take care of her,. I didn't know why at the time but I do now. I won't let you down.

I'm keeping my promise.

- JJ

P.S. Don't miss me too much. We'll be shotgunning beers together up there before you know it.

There are tears blooming in her eyes when she lifts her gaze from the tattered paper to look at him again, but they aren't sad. For once, the tears slipping down her cheeks are happy tears, not born from grief, sadness, and pain, but bittersweet happiness.

They're caught staring at each other for a second before he asks her shyly, "It isn't too sappy or anything, is it? 'Cause I thought it—"

"C'mere," is the only thing she can get out before she's tugging him forward by the front of his shirt to kiss him.

JJ stumbles a little with the unexpected force of her pulling him to her, but he takes it in stride. He steadies himself and lets his hands shoot out to grapple for purchase on her waist, keeping her pressed up against him tightly as he kisses her back.

And it doesn't get much better than this, does it? This is it for him. He meant what he wrote to John B, he won't fuck it up with her, especially not because of his trauma with his dad getting inside his head and sabotaging his relationship with her. This is what makes everything worth it.

It brings happy tears to his eyes too.

She can taste the salt of them where their lips meet in the middle. It makes her smile, wrapping her arms around his neck and clenching the letters he mended for her in her fist to keep them from blowing away in the wind, and they both start to laugh into each other's mouths at the poignant feeling they both share but can't quite place.

They pull away from each other to catch their breath after another moment of it, and she can't help but stare. How could she not when she feels like this? It’s less like he’s her boyfriend and more like a piece of her soul has attached itself to his with no hope of letting go in the near future.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," she whispers to him.

Plain and simple. No room for disagreement or a bashful rejection of the compliment. She's pulled back from him enough to hold his gaze and make sure he sees her seriousness, and there isn't anything he can do to refute her statement.

He brushes his nose against hers affectionately, dipping down to kiss her again, but when he leans back to see her face, he can't help himself.

"Ditto."

The rest of the day after their moment on the boat, locked away in their own little world where none of the monsters chasing them could sneak through and ruin it, melts away peacefully. After another half hour spent looking through the box together, of her thanking him over and over again, he hops off of the HMS Pogue onto the dock and extends his hand to her in the most gentlemanly manner possible.

His lips are curved into a smirk as he kneels down on one knee as though she's a revered royal and bows his head in subservience, "Princess Routledge."

Her hand fits in his warm, calloused palm as a perfect match, and she steps off of the boat onto the dock beside him with an expression to match his.

"Captain Maybank," she says in her most regal royalty voice.

Her stellar performance breaks into a laugh they share as he stands and throws his arm around over her shoulder to walk back to the yard. The cardboard box is tucked beneath one of her arms while the other slips around his side to hold him back, and her heart feels full with both the presence of JJ and John B alongside her.

They bury it together.

Tag List: @gabiatthedisco, @fangirlvoice, @black-syren, @apparrio, @particularcth, @planetdemon, @idk-ijustworkhere, and @krisphann

Also, now that it’s over, let me know what your favorite part was in the comments or tags if you’d like to :) I’m curious.

[shadowsinger11]

John Wayne

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Christmas lights and stunning dresses are enough to spark a desire for a winter romance. But could you have possibly gotten the wrong idea?

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre: fluff, angst

A/N: I might've listened too much to Cigarettes After Sex while writing and this is totally not a song inspired fic, born purely as a result of my procrastination with other projects

Tag list: @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii @jenniweasley @theweasleysredhair @harrysweasleys @loony-loopy-lupinn @whiz-bangs78 @slytherinsunrise @starlightweasley @ickle-ronniekins @gcdric @vivianweasley @aprilsrant @idont-knowrn @thisismynerdyself @wonderful-writer @feetoffthetablee @minty-malfoy @vogueweasley @elf-punk @oh-for-merlins-sake @heart-of-tempered-steel @spilled-prose @itseatyourdamnapples @aaannabbanana @l0ttadreamz @potter-redheads @pastanest | message me to be added/removed! (if you're in bold, I couldn't tag you)

You were staring at the crowded dance floor.

Beautiful ladies were being spun around by their partners, gorgeous gowns twirling and swooshing with their every elegant move. Everything was perfect about them; from their smile which lit up the Great hall more than the sparkling white Christmas trees, to the way their wrist gracefully twisted around their lover's neck, eyes piercing into theirs. The music was playing, slow and melancholic, exactly as it had been playing for the last few hours, luring lovers and encouraging them to bare their souls in front of each other.

And so they danced, connected by fearful desire, united by hope and bonded by love.

It was a kind of magic no one could truly understand, mysterious and private as though you weren't meant to witness it that night. So when among the sea of couples lips met in a silent oath, your heart began to ache, pleading you to leave.

It should have been you. It should have been you the receiver of those loving glances, of those kisses which made your head dizzy and caused your knees to buckle, but it would've been no problem as you would've had the arms of your lover to keep you secure. Then, as you'd dare to look up through your lashes, gorgeous eyes would be already on you, their obscure flame consoling you and pulling you in. And you'd simply fall, letting the warm, velvety darkness envelope you.

You flinched from the slight chill, rethinking your choice of a sleeveless dress. The enthusiasm with which you had picked it months ago now seemed utterly ridiculous and foolish as you were sitting a good distance away from where you believed you'd have been dancing your heart out. But, as you took one last look at your surroundings, only to spot your lovestruck friends indulging in the presence of their partners, the comfort of your pajamas seemed far more tempting than the unreasonably expensive piece of fabric which didn't even matter to you anymore.

It was pitifully funny how things could change in the blink of an eye, in a single breath; how fast you had gone from blooming with excitement to wondering how you were foolish enough to contribute to your own heartbreak.

"How come I'm just finding out about this?" Fred exclaimed, chasing after you down the stairs of the Astronomy tower. "I bet I wouldn't have known if it wasn't for those Ravenclaws chatting back in class."

"You were gonna know eventually, what's the deal?"

"My point is, why didn't you tell me and I had to hear from someone else?"

A group Hufflepuffs gave you questioning looks as you practically ran past them, nearly tripping over your own feet in the process, "You're making a fuss about nothing, stop acting entitled to every piece of information in my life!"

"McLaggen? That git?" Fred yelled in frustration and disbelief; he didn't at all acknowledge the small crowd which had gathered to observe the scene, nor did he care in the first place. He stopped in his tracks, gripping the wooden railing tight, knuckles turning white and jaw tense. "You cannot be serious."

Shocked faces now turned to you, and you desperately wished you could use reducio on yourself. Instead, opposite to what your consciousness was screaming at you, you dug your feet into the floor and shot Fred a stern look over your shoulder, "We're not discussing this right now. Besides, what's in it for you anyway? You're going with Angelina."

Had you kept walking, you would have missed the way Fred's chest was heaving with shallow, rapid breaths, and his face was more maroon than you had ever seen. And you? You couldn't quite breathe yourself.

A week ago your untamed happiness brightened every room and hallway; classes seemed to fly by, exams were over and the Yule ball was right around the corner. Your heart was ringing with joy as you were so looking forward to forgetting your troubles for just one night. 

In the midst of shining Christmas decorations and beautiful dresses a dreamy, yet pretty bold idea had begun to form in your head, an idea which Ginny and Hermione encouraged with their support and affirmations. Deep down you had started to believe Fred Weasley took an interest in you, harboured feelings for you even, and your ever-present goofy banter which contained far more flirting than what would be acceptable between two best friends, only fed your imagination and raised your hopes up.

You were aware you were the only one on the receiving end of Fred's teasing jokes, cheesy pickup lines and lingering stares which had you staying up an extra hour in your bed at night. Even his siblings shared the same opinion - there was no way on Godric's sword that a person who clearly wanted to be around you as often as possible and got his hands on you every chance he could, wouldn't be at least a little bit interested in you.

That's why you nearly broke down when exactly a week ago in the hallway Ron casually mentioned his older brother had just asked out Angelina.

The ground was pulled beneath your feet, vanishing along with your oblivious hopes. The news stung sharply, leaving a sour taste in your mouth; never had you believed you’d spend the few days before the ball stitching up your heart, and you were willing to do just about anything to forget about your humiliation. So when McLaggen invited you with an obnoxiously flirty note in Charms class, you didn’t hesitate much.

You could feel a wave of tears burning your eyes as you looked up to where Fred was standing. His face and ears were still as red as they could get, and his chest was vibrating with every shaky breath he took. Fury had disappeared from his eyes long ago, replaced with concern, regret and hurt which you couldn't quite place.

He climbed down the few remaining stairs.

"He's obnoxious! And beyond what's good for you!" Fred stated, though his voice now lacked power and slightly trembled, loud enough just for you to hear. "You're setting yourself up for a pretty bad night."

You swallowed down the dry lump in your throat and finally turned around to fully face him, looking him up and down.

"Seems like I have a terrible taste in men then."

A second glass of firewhiskey did nothing to burn down the growing turmoil in your stomach. You tapped the edge of the empty glass with your fingers and smiled at your friends who were visibly exhausted from dancing to upbeat songs for quite awhile now, but enjoying their time far too much to take a break. You admired their spirit - just because you weren't feeling your best, it didn't mean your friends didn't have the right to have fun.

However, the inevitable sense of regret lingered in your bones, and you found it hard to not focus on how the ball had gone wrong for you, in more ways than you had originally thought.

Even without Fred as your date, there was still a chance you'd have a good time. McLaggen could undoubtedly make it awkward to be around, and with the fact that your heart had recently been sliced open, you weren't sure how much of his ridiculous antics you could take. But at least he was trying; if you put aside his overbearing ego, you could see genuine effort into creating something romantic for both of you. It was going to be okay. Not necessarily what you desired, but somehow okay.

And that last bit of hope vanished the second you caught your former date snogging your crush's date in an empty classroom merely an hour ago.

You didn't know whether to cry or laugh at the universe's bitter joke, but the tears on your face as you ran down the hallway in your beautiful dress were eloquent.

A bitter, bitter joke.

You couldn't take it anymore. The charming smiles, sultry glances and stolen kisses you had been observing for the past hour were too much. And when another slow song made an appearance, you rose to your feet and headed towards the tall doors of the exit. Perhaps sleep would be a decent ending to your horrendous night.

You had barely made it out of the Great hall when loud footsteps echoed on your right.

"Bloody hell, I've been looking for you!" Fred said through heavy breaths, having run all the way to you as it seemed. His ginger hair had escaped its slicked look long ago, now too messy to fix despite his numerous attempts to smooth it back. His suit was no better, slightly wrinkled and shirt open to the third button.

"Why have you?" you asked and folded your arms, feeling a bit chilly in the hallway.

"McLaggen. About him," Fred sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry for having to say it, but I just saw him-"

"I know."

Fred frowned in confusion.

"You do?"

It was your turn to let out an exasperated sigh as you looked down at your feet, "Yes. A while ago."

Fred's features softened.

"I'm sorry."

You barely found it in you to respond with a weak smile, "It's alright. I guess I was right. I do have a terrible taste in men." Then you gave Fred a sympathetic look, "I'm sorry for Angelina too, it's horrible she did this to you."

Your friend allowed the ghost of a smirk to appear on his lips and he shoved hands into his pockets, "I'm not really affected by it in all honesty," he shrugged. "I'm rather angry about the fact that the prat thought he could pull off something like this and get away with it."

Fred's heart ached at the sight of your slumped figure and glossy eyes; he hated himself for having contributed to the failure of the event you were expecting with so much hope. He tilted his head to the side, attempting to meet your gaze.

"I'd gladly prank the crap outta the git until he doesn't even dare to show up to classes… But for now is there a way for me to make your night any less terrible, love?"

You couldn't help but giggle at the thought of McLaggen skipping classes out of sheer fear of Fred. But then your thoughts wandered to the way Angelina was practically straddling his lap, and you wondered if Fred had been doing the same all this time unbeknownst to you; if right after a flirty joke sent your way he'd go to an empty classroom and kiss Angelina with the passion you had just witnessed.

The image of Angelina's lips on Fred's caused you to become nauseous and you attempted to swallow down that lump again.

"No," you replied. "But please, tell me one thing. What was that entire tantrum for?"

Fred didn't really seem taken aback by your question, realizing you'd eventually bring it up. He furrowed a brow, carefully thinking of an answer, and wettened his lips.

“Perhaps it would be inappropriate of me to say it- selfish even, but the mere thought of you being in the embrace of someone, especially with that someone being a foul git, caused me to get unreasonably angry.” Guilt was seeping into his every word and he bitterly chuckled to himself. “Ironic, isn’t it? Attempting to spare you heartbreak by being the reason for it.”

He gently took your hand and looked into your eyes, remorse swimming in his own, "I had no right to treat you the way I did. I'm terribly sorry for being controlling and you absolutely do not have to forgive me. Just know that I truly regret my actions; I never intended to hurt you."

His words were a feather-light caress to your wounded heart and you shuddered. You couldn't stay mad at him. Reciprocated feelings or not, he was still your best friend and you wouldn't let that go.

"Apology accepted," you gave his hand a light squeeze and Fred beamed, the entire hallway lighting up with him. Dread released your chest of its merciless grasp and you could finally breathe. However, one question never ceased to haunt you. "But I just need to know…” you began, absentmindedly playing with his fingers, “...why were you so upset to begin with?"

Fred's shoulders immediately stiffened and he averted his gaze from you in an attempt to come up with a reasonable reply. His jaw was clenched, and his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. "I didn't want you to go with him." He stated simply. "Not when you could've easily gone with me instead."

You froze.

"What do you mean?” you asked timidly, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “What about Angelina?"

Fred only shook his head, fighting back a grin.

"Darling, Angelina was never the catch."

The air was knocked out of your lungs.

You could only stare at Fred wide-eyed, and though his expression was unreadable, maroon had begun to crawl its way up to his ears and cheeks again.

"I'm sorry for putting you through all this," Fred spoke softly as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, a kiss that awakened the butterflies within you. "I was really too much of a wuss to confess to you and settled for this instead."

"I guess that makes us two," you smiled sincerely, perhaps for the first time that night. Fred returned your smile with a grin, and asked.

"How can I make up to you for this oh-so-awful mess?"

"Dance with me," you said without skipping a beat. "That's what you owe me at least. Let's finally do what we both wanted."

Fred's expression became serious as he intertwined his fingers with yours, and led you into the direction of the Great hall, from which music could still faintly be heard.

"With the greatest of pleasure, my love."

Most people had already gone to bed, leaving just a few couples and you to drench in enchanted serenity. Fred's arms around you felt like home as you both swayed to the soft rhythm of the song, one of the many to follow, but his racing heartbeat under your palm caused your own pulse to speed up as well. 

You looked up at your lover through your lashes, gorgeous eyes already on you, their obscure flame consoling you and pulling you in. There was an odd, enigmatic allure that Fred possessed, and even after years of knowing this man, it only caused you to fall further into the velvety hell you didn't wish to escape from. 

And when his lips collided with yours, they tasted sweeter than the forbidden fruit.

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

[the-pontiac-bandit]

If you're still answering tortall prompts, how about Raoul + family?

wow why NOT write 2000 words of blatant, shameless fluff about families you make for yourself??? inspired by this quote from tammy: “[Raoul and Buri] have glorious sex under trees, in tents, in lakes…. In carriages. I think at some point they’ll probably adopt. By the time they’re attached Buri’s getting a little old to have any of her own. It’s not like there aren’t plenty of orphans around.”

As Raoul stretched out, trying to make himself comfortable in his too-hard, too-small desk chair, he savored the warm feeling filling his chest and threatening to spill out and take physical form in front of him. In the midst of the most head-spinning, headache-inducing, sleep-sapping, joy-filled week he’d ever experienced, he’d had precious little time to slow down and simply exist within his new reality. He thought to close his eyes, the better to feel everything, but they only stayed shut for a moment before they forced themselves back open. He couldn’t stop looking at the scene in front of him for long.

Buri lounged cross-legged on their bed, far more relaxed than he had been at any point this week. Kel sat next to her, her back straight and her long legs carefully hanging off one side so as not to get dust from the practice courts on their bedding. Both had just returned from a full morning of training, sweaty despite a change of clothes and coated in dust despite a thorough washing, courtesy of a long, hot summer that had refused to give them rain.

Between them was the baby.

His son, he reminded himself. He thought the words a few extra times, even mouthing them once, as he had a thousand times in the last five days, as if forming them on his lips might make them feel more real.

None of this felt real to him yet. He supposed most people had nine months to get used to the idea before seven pounds of screaming chaos turned their lives upside down. He’d had exactly fifty-three days—he’d counted on Tuesday—so he supposed he still had some catching up to do. His mind was still reeling from the conversation that had led them here, and he wasn’t sure yet that he’d ever catch up.

He’d been sitting in this chair and pretending to read reports while mostly thinking about his right knee, which had been bothering him despite Duke Baird’s best efforts. He wasn’t sure why he remembered so specifically, since his days were nearly as certain to contain aches and bruises as they were to contain a sunrise. Buri had returned from a meeting with Thayet and Onua, although really, the word meeting conferred far too much dignity on what was more likely a combination of trick riding and palace gossip. They’d settled into the evening routine they’d shared for nearly a decade, working in comfortable silence with candles lit between them.

“Do you want children?” she’d asked, breaking the quiet spell of paperwork that gripped their nights.

“I think it’s a little late for that,” he’d replied with a snort.

She’d thrown a pillow at him. He had caught it and thrown it back without even looking up from the thick stack of papers in his lap, with a rude hand gesture following behind.

“You know what I meant. Did you want children? Before?”

Something in her voice had shifted. He’d finally looked up to find her eyes already trained on him. Her face had been so unexpectedly earnest that he’d actually taken a pause, had slowed the speed of their consistently paced banter, to think.

“I suppose I hadn’t given it much thought. There were friends, and then there was drinking, and then there was the Own, and then there was you,” he’d told her with a shrug. “I do like children, but I’m perfectly happy where I am.”

She’d chewed on her lip for a moment. He remembered being surprised by that. After nearly thirty years of friendship, she rarely took the time to think before she spoke with him anymore.

“Spit it out.”

“Do you want children?”

“And we’re back to the start,” he’d said with a grin.

“I spat it out. Now you answer it.”

“Hypothetically, sure, I’d enjoy a child. Now can I ask why you’re asking at all?”

“I’ve been thinking,” she’d started. She’d paused for a moment, holding her breath as though she was trying to decide whether she should speak at all. And then she’d let it all spill out at once. “I’ve been thinking it might be nice to have one. A child, I mean.”

She’d held up a hand and made a face before Raoul could even begin to formulate a joke about her monthlies or her aching hips or what they might do to make that happen. “Not like that. Thayet was telling us today about homes they’re opening in Corus, for children without parents. We were thinking about the children we traveled with back in Sarain, when Alanna found us all those years ago. Gods, it was terrifying, having Thayet and an infant to protect, especially when Thayet was ready to throw her life away for the infant. And I started thinking—we have money, and safety, and love, and there are all these children who have none of those things, and—”

She’d been speaking faster and faster, but she’d cut herself off abruptly at the look on Raoul’s face. “Never mind, you can forget—”

Raoul had smiled back at her, straightening up in his chair and marking his spot in the report on his lap before putting it aside. “So you want a child.”

The weeks that followed had been ones filled with paperwork and inquiries at the palace records about the process of appointing a common-born heir to a noble house and at the magistrate’s about drawing up paperwork for adoption. There had been careful planning and hushed discussions with only their closest friends about the best way to proceed. Buri had insisted on an older child, maybe eight or nine, saying that the few diapers she’d changed on the road to Rachia were enough for a lifetime.

Instead, five days ago, Buri had entered their rooms carrying a squalling mess of blankets with an air of forced nonchalance that had told him immediately what she’d done. Instead of clarifying, or teasing her, or asking if it was the smallest eight-year-old he’d ever seen, he’d simply held his arms out. While Buri had supplied endless explanations about Thayet ambushing her with a baby, he’d stared at the squirming mess of baby in his lap, blankets already coming undone, absolutely entranced.  

“He’s tiny,” he’d commented. His voice sounded like it was coming from someone else’s body. The baby was only just too large for him to hold in one hand, although he’d never try to prove it. The fragility of the life sitting in his lap was overwhelming.

“His mother died yesterday. Childbed fever, caught too late to help. The priestesses at the Goddess’ Temple were worried he might need more than the homes could give.”

Raoul had nodded, only half listening. The baby’s eyes were screwed shut while he wailed. His fine hair was dark, his skin tanned like that of the Bazhir babies Raoul had seen in his year in the Great Southern Desert. One of the baby’s hands had broken free of its blanket. It had waved in the air, keeping pace with his cries, which were far louder than he’d have believed such a tiny body could produce. He’d intercepted the hand with one finger and then watched in wonder as the baby had grasped it.

“Does he have a name?”

“Pathom,” she’d answered definitively, before belatedly remembering that names were the sort of thing parents might choose together. “That is, if—”

“Pathom of Goldenlake,” he’d cut her off with a smile.

The days that followed had been a blur. Thayet had found a wet-nurse and supplied an endless stream of goods that they’d have never known a baby required. Alanna had ridden in from Pirate’s Swoop at full speed to pronounce in a gruff voice that the infant was in perfect health. Gary had gifted them a bassinet and more blankets than any human child could possibly need. Dom had found a way to convert a standard-issue burnoose into an excellent baby sling, while Evin had given them a congratulatory note from George, who complained that Alanna had left before he could finish writing, and a cheerful promise that he’d never touch a soiled diaper. Onua had given them a set of unimaginably soft stuffed ponies, perfect replicas of the horses that roamed the highlands of Sarain where she and Buri had learned to ride.

Kel, away on business with Second Company at the Gallan border, had to wait almost a full week to learn she had a new godsson. He’d met the company when they’d arrived back at the palace long past dark the night before. They’d groomed Hoshi and Sparrow together while he thanked the gods for perhaps the hundredth time that her “testy pony” had finally found his way out of the Own stables and into a pleasant retirement.

Finally, when the last of the men had trudged towards the barracks and a well-earned nights’ sleep, she’d turned to him.

“Well?”

“There’s someone important I want you to meet,” he’d said, shoving his hands in his pockets with a smile that was equal parts nervous and eager.

“Sir, I’ve already met your wife.”

Raoul had let out a hearty chuckle. “But you haven’t met my son.”

Kel had frozen. Her face fell back into perfect stillness, the way it did when her mind was working its fastest.

After a second that felt like an eternity, she replied, “Sir, I saw Buri five weeks ago. If you’re telling me you’ve managed to grow a baby since then—”

“We didn’t, but someone else did. We adopted him from the Temple after his mother died in childbirth.”

Understanding flashed in Kel’s eyes while her face broke into a rare broad grin. She’d wrapped her arms around him in a fast, tight hug accompanied by enthusiastic congratulations that had gone suddenly silent in surprise when he’d added, a wicked glint in his eyes, “You really should come by tomorrow to meet your godsson.”

Buri had intercepted Kel on the practice courts the following morning with the dual goals of keeping her own skills sharp and ensuring that Kel would not be too polite to visit. And so now, he watched as Kel bounced his son with the brisk certainty of someone who had held a baby a thousand times. He could hear her cooing quietly at Pathom, softening her consonants while she told him all about forest campaigns in hill country. He knew he should ask her to speak up—if she was going to give her report verbally, she could at least give it at a volume he could hear—but he found he wasn’t particularly interested in the intricacies of the Second’s bowstring supplies. Buri made eye contact with him behind Kel’s back, laughter in her eyes. Buri could laugh if she wanted, but he was taking notes on Kel’s tactics. He would have sworn this was the quietest he’d heard his son in the entirety of his hundred-and-twenty-odd hours in the palace.

As his son stared wide-eyed at his former squire, Raoul was reminded of a comment he’d heard as they’d left Turomot’s offices the other day with paperwork making Pathom officially their own. “Well, that feckless Goldenlake dolt’s managed to start a family, even if it was too late to do the thing properly,” the Lord of Genlith had muttered at their backs as they’d left. Buri had elbowed him and whispered a quick “Feckless? I’ll show him feckless,” but her heart wasn’t in it. Before she’d even finished the thought, her eyes were back on Pathom, squirming against her chest in the burnoose that bound him to her.

And now, Raoul watched his son, passed between his wife and the woman who had been like his daughter long before any papers said he was a father. Stuffed Saren ponies lined the shelf above an intricately carved bassinet filled with beautifully embroidered blankets. A protection charm had been pulled from Alanna’s packs to hang at the head, while twin leather circles bearing the insignias of the Riders and the Own, no doubt carefully cut by mischievous commanders from the saddle packs of some unprepared trainees, was secured carefully at the foot. Raoul had to smile for a moment at Genlith’s ignorance—he’d begun his family right on time.

[euphoricdumpsterfire]

It Was Enchanting To Meet You (Edmund Pevensie x Mutant!FemReader)

Chapter V: The Lake

Summary: Edmund and Y/N are on the way to look for a mysterious cottage. They stopped by a lake where they meet some mermaids. Jealous of Y/N’s presence, they orchestrated a plan that brings one of Y/N’s nightmares to life.

Masterlist

Word count: 1397

Warnings: being underwater and nearly drowning, minor injuries, (let me know if there's anything else I missed!)

A/N: There’s going to be a scene that’s heavily inspired by Tangled and a surprise cameo from a certain marvel witch! (Also I know this was supposed to be uploaded yesterday but I had so many things to do I didn't have the time but here it is!)

"So where exactly are we going?" Y/N asked as she struggled to walk through tall shrubs in the forest,

"I dunno, Susan mentioned this cottage that magically showed up apparently. The Beavers were the ones who actually saw it, they were frolicking in the woods, saw the cottage and felt something was off because they've never seen it before. Mrs. Beaver said there was a sound of an explosion and purple smoke came out of the chimney." Edmund answered,

"Do you think it's..." Y/N said in a quiet voice, "Her?" implying that it may have been the white witch.

"We won't know until we find out." He answered and they continued to walk through the woods. They had been walking for hours and eventually felt tired. Y/N saw a lake not too far from where they stood and had suggested to take a break and get some water. Once they got to the lake, they sat on the ground to fill up their containers with water. The lake's water was the clearest of blue and it sparkled with the sun's reflection.

"This is actually good, I've never really gone to the great outdoors since forever." Y/N said as she looked up at the sky,

"You've never gone to a lake?" Edmund chuckled in disbelief,

"Only once and it was for a school field trip. After that, I've only just been in the city, and eventually stuck in my professor's mansion." she answered.

Edmund stood up and reached out his hand towards Y/N, "Get up." he said,

"Why?"

"Just get up and come with me." He said. Y/N grabbed his hand and got up, he led him to where the ground and water met. "Now, close your eyes." he said and Y/N shut her eyes closed, nervous with what's about to happen. Suddenly she felt a splash of water hit her face, making her jump in shock.

"Ed!" Y/N yelled and splashed water towards him for revenge. They continued to play in the water until they were soaking wet, they were laughing and having fun until they heard a voice.

"Hello there." A young woman with strawberry blonde hair and rose colored eyes emerged from the waters startling both Edmund and Y/N.

"Whoa... Are you a mermaid?!" Y/N exclaimed,

"As a matter of fact, I am." The mermaid answered as she lifted up her tail that matched the color of her eyes, and a bunch of other mermaids started to emerge as well. The mermaid took a look at Edmund and swam closer to the edge, "You must be King Edmund the just. What brings you here?" she said while batting her eyelashes,

"We're in search of this cottage that apparently showed up in the middle of the woods, perhaps you've seen someone who happens to be the owner of the cottage?" Edmund asked,

"I've never seen such a thing..." the mermaid answered, her eyes moved towards Y/N her expression turning cold, "And who are you?" she asked in a very rude manner which confused Y/N.

"I'm Y/N Y/LN." she answered

"I'm assuming that you're the king's servant?" the mermaid shot back,

"She's not a servant," Edmund answered, "She's actually an important guest that came from a far away land." Suddenly the mermaid's rude expression eerily changed into a charming smile and pointed to her right,

"You must come, your highness, my sister is about to play a very special song with her flute." She said and the music can be heard very clearly despite the source of the sound being very far from where they were. Without hesitation, Edmund followed the sound and when Y/N was about to follow him, other mermaids grabbed onto her leg. She screamed in agony as one of the mermaid's nails pierced through the skin of her leg, thus crimson red blood trailed down to her feet.

"Edmund! Ed!" Y/N yelled, Edmund turned around but the mermaids had already dragged her into the deepest part of the lake. She kept her eyes open, she kept resisting and tried to get back to the surface. It was then she realized she felt a sense of deja vu. This was exactly how one of her nightmares turned out and it immediately ensued more panic.

Edmund jumped into the lake chasing after Y/N who, by luck, got away from the hands of the mermaids. However, one of them aimed a trident towards Y/N. She saw the mermaid throw the trident and her hands glowed dark navy blue and she extended her arms out, directed toward where the mermaids were and a beam of light hit them, pushing them to the bottom of the lake.

With the trident still moving swiftly towards Y/N's direction, she quickly moved away. However, Edmund was in the midst of swimming to Y/N when the pointy ends of the trident cut his hand. Y/N saw this and swam to his direction, grabbed his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders while her arm encircled on his back as they swam to the surface.

They both sat on the ground, panting and still trying to process what had just happened. “Are you alright?” Y/N asked Edmund as she looked at his bleeding hand.

“I should be asking you that question.” Edmund replied,

“I’m all good. It’s just that, I didn’t expect that one of my nightmares are caused by jealous mermaids.” Y/N said making Edmund chuckle.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have followed the mermaids.” Edmund says solemnly,

“You really shouldn’t blame yourself, though I think it's a good idea to put a huge sign that says "Warning: Dangerous Mermaids" just for safety .” Y/N replied and Edmund laughed.

She looked over at his hand once again and said, “May I?” Edmund hesitantly moved his hand towards her to which she held. Deep blue light radiated from her hands as the wound healed itself.

“There, you're all healed up!” Y/N smiled while still holding his hand,

“Thank you.” Edmund said as he smiled.

Their faces were just inches away, both looked into each other's eyes and their stomachs filled with butterflies. But their attention gets pulled away as they hear a faint voice of a woman humming a lullaby. The lullaby that Y/N had been humming the other night. “Do you hear that?” Edmund asked,

“Yeah, and I’ve been hearing that voice since the other night.” Y/N stood up and tried to figure out which direction the voice was coming from. “I think it’s coming from the west, it might be from the cottage.”

Edmund got up and said “Let’s go.”

As they continued to head west with Y/N in the lead, the humming became louder and clearer. "I see it!" Y/N exclaimed and they both ran towards a small cottage with purple smoke coming out of its chimney, exactly how the Beavers described it. They stood outside the door, Edmund moving forward and instinctively stood in front of Y/N to shield her. He knocked on the door and it immediately swung open, startling the two. A woman with dark wavy hair, wearing the darkest blue dress with a purple shawl, and a small brooch placed on her chest stood right in front of them while cradling a rabbit in her arms.

"Hiya kids!" She said in the most comical way reminding Y/N of how the women in sitcoms would talk. Edmund and Y/N stood frozen, confused almost, and never said a word. "Well don't keep me waiting! Get in here!" The woman motioned with her arm to let the two inside but there was no movement. "Oh of course where are my manners!" The woman cackled and cleared her throat, "The name's Agatha Harkness, lovely to finally meet you guys." She smiled as she petted her rabbit, her eyes darted at Y/N making Edmund stretch out his arm to shield her.

"You finally found me." Agatha said directly to Y/N, "I've been trying to communicate with you for the past few days, my throat's been sore from all the humming!" She chuckled.

"How did you know that lullaby?" Y/N asked,

"Why dear, I was the one who sang it to you when you were little!" She said confidently.

[niawritess]

The Lovestruck~Chapter 11

(5 December Sunday)

10:30 am

Sunday, your favorite day from the week where you sleep till noon without worrying about your college and your mom nagging you to get up early. However, here you are at the Café, standing behind the counter with Rose and Ria beside you staring at the person which you three have been longing to meet.

Song Joongki, AKA The Big Boss, your favorite actor was seated by the window table filming his advertisement as today was the D-DAY.

"O my god! He's so handsome in person!" Ria exclaimed, squealing while linking her arms around yours and you also smiled squealing silently whilst nodding at her remark.

"Thank you so much Rose for letting me be here to witness this wonderful scene." She clasped her hands staring at him with sparkling eyes and Rose chuckled at her while you rolled your eyes at her dramatic acting.

"In that case, you should thank your best friend as she was the one who requested for you." Rose smiled pointing with her chin to you and you gave your bestfriend a smug grin as she glanced at you.

"Y/n, you are the best!" She side hugged you and you cringed at her behavior before she looked at you still holding you.

"I'll always be at your service." She gave a cute smile causing you smirk as you looked at her and Ria got the message as she let go of you standing straight.

"Are you sure?"

"Okay, I take that back."

"No, you can't. You'll be at my service." You smirked folding your arms to your chest and she sighed defeated while rose giggled at you both.

Meanwhile, Baekhyun who had his back leaned against the counter watching you smiling and squealing at the man wasn't liking it a bit. He folded his arms to his chest while squinting eyes at him feeling frustrated at the sight, at the same time unknown and confused to this new sensation he was feeling.

"What so great about him?" He muttered annoyed and wondering why didn't he just skip today but couldn't as he wanted to see you, god knows why.

"I know right."

He jumped by the sudden voice beside him and tilted his head to the side to see Jack eyeing Song Joongki then to Rose making Baekhyun smirk at his jealous state not realizing he was feeling same.

"Oh! He is looking here!" Rose jolted making both males head whipped towards them.

"OMG!"

You and Ria squealed together as his eyes roamed around then stopping at the counter and he looked at Rose smilingly then to Ria who almost screamed as she squeezed your arm and lastly to you making your heart skip a beat.

You snapped out and were about to smile back but a broad back came in to your sight preventing you to do it as your tiny figure hid behind.

"What are you doing?" You tilted your head to look at Baekhyun frowning as he looked over his shoulder to see your puzzled face before he looked at Rose and Ria who were staring at him with the same expression as yours.

"Oh, Jack and I wanted to drink coffee." He answered proceeding to get the cups and you three nodded as he walked away from there with a satisfied grin on his face as if he won a mission.

***

11:32 am

It's been half an hour since the shoot ended and everybody went home except Ria and Jack. Rose and Jack had to discuss something related to contract so they were seated at the corner table whilst you and Ria were were sitting beside each other with Baekhyun across of you by the window.

"This picture came out so good!" Ria exclaimed staring at the picture which you three fangirls took with Song Joongki earlier before uploading it on her Instagram.

Ria took a sip of her coffee before glancing at Baekhyun who was staring at you without you knowing causing Ria's lips to curve into a smirk as her ship was sailing.

"Baekhyun sunbae?"

Baekhyun's head instantly jolted towards her and you also looked at her before she broke out in a shy grin.

"I wanted to ask if I can add you on my insta so I can tag you?" She asked hesitantly which you could see in her eyes causing you look at Baekhyun expectantly.

"Sure." Baekhyun immediately answered fishing out his phone and you smiled as you saw your bestfriend smiling in relief as you remembered how she awkward she got when locked eyes with him but seeing them getting along well, you felt happy.

"Y/n, tell me yours too." Baekhyun asked snapping you out of your trance and you looked at him with doe eyes.

"I will send her username to you but you won't find anything interesting since she just likes to explore." Ria told nonchalantly and you shot a glare at her.

"You know what's more interesting?" You uttered lowly gritting your teeth as she glanced at you. "My punch."

Baekhyun chuckled lowly shaking his head while Ria ignored your warning and shifted her eyes back to her phone screen.

"Woah y/n!" She exclaimed making you and Baekhyun flinch by her loud tone before she pushed her phone infront of you.

"Look at the comments." She scrolled through the comments. "So many guys are asking about you saying you are so pretty."

"The girl with the ponytail looks cute." Ria read the comment loud enough for Baekhyun to hear which she purposely wanted him to hear it.

Hearing this, Baekhyun's eyes widen as he immediately sat straight with his fingers gripping the coffee mug tightly as a sudden rage rushed inside him.

Your eyes widened hearing upon that and you don't know why, you immediately looked at Baekhyun who was already staring at you but then looked away before you glanced back at Ria with a dirty face.

"Block him." You spat before taking a sip of your orange juice and Baekhyun looked back at you before looking away as a smile crept on his lips which got unnoticed by you.

"You're just allergic to compliments." She retorted rolling her eyes before her phone buzzed and she excused herself out to answer the call leaving you and Baekhyun alone.

A silence followed between which you both found comfortable with stealing glances at eachother before Baekhyun decided to break it.

"Did you sleep well last night?"

Your head jerked up at him and you nodded giving him sheepish grin. "Yes, and I'm sorry for sleeping in the midst of talking."

He chuckled shaking his head. "No worries, at least you slept well."

You smiled. "Thanks to you, but I really don't do that though."

He hummed nodding. "But you did it to me."

"I said sorry though." You mumbled feeling guilty with your lips forming into a pout without you knowing and Baekhyun smiled at how cute you looked.

He laughed lightly. "I'm kidding, just teasing you."

You looked at him frowning. "You're always teasing me."

He just shrugged grinning cutely. "I can't help it, You're fun to tease with."

You sniffled before looking away from him wondering if he's like that to every girl and that thought somewhat made you feel weird inside.

"Are you going home alone? Should I give you a ride?"

You snapped out and looked at Baekhyun who was giving you a question look before you shook your head.

"No, it's alright. Ria and I are going to my home since we have a doctors appointment for dan."

He nodded. "Yeah, he told me."

You brows knitted. "He told you?"

"Eung, I called him to ask about his foot and he told me."

"Wait, so you have dan's number? Since when?"

"Since the day we met." He replied nonchalantly.

You leaned back on your chair amazed. "It's strange how he's took a liking to you this instant which is new to me, I don't even know why he likes you so much."

"Why don't you find out then?" He leaned forward placing his arms on the chair staring at you with a teasing smile causing your heart skip a beat before you bit your lip, letting out a out a nervous laugh.

"What's taking her so long?" You shifted your eyes outside, taking a sip from your orange juice calming your heart and Baekhyun couldn't help but smile at your flustered state as you seemed adorable yet innocent.

***

8:36 pm

"So, how is it going?" Jongdae questioned Baekhyun who's eyes were glued to the TV screen and the remote control in his hand as he was having a duel with sehun.

His brows arched. "Hm? What are you talking about?"

"Hyung, he meant your girl." Sehun intruded earning a glare from the latter and Jongdae nodded.

"She is not my girl, how many times I have told you and there's nothing going on. We're just friends." Baekhyun told them eyes still glued on the screen with his fingers taping the controller rapidly.

"Are you sure you both are just friends? Then can I talk to her? She seems cute though." Jongin wriggled his eyebrows getting a smack in return causing him wince in pain as he rubbed his arm while pouting.

"Why are you hitting him?" Junmyeon sat opposite of him drinking his water. "We're just asking what we see."

Baekhyun's brows knitted. "What do you mean? What do you see?"

"That how you're always smiling when you come back from work." Minseok remarked causing Baekhyun to tilt his head to him confused then back to the game.

"What's so surprising about that? Ain't I always like that?"

"You are but around us." Chanyeol uttered out of nowhere giving the latter scare before he plopped himself beside him staring at him.

"We have never seen you this open to any girl not even Somi, you know." He added getting Baekhyun's attention but he couldn't utter anything as he felt himself thinking about it.

"Okay, leave that. Tell me how's she like?" Yixing spoke making Baekhyun look at him perplexed.

"I mean, we have seen her but we've never really talked to her. So how's she like?" He added and Baekhyun somehow felt a little nervous for the first time talking about you.

He sighed licking his lips. "At first I thought that she's just an ordinary girl who's my co-worker, but when we started talking I got to know how innocent and pure she is."

"More than that her mind is so beautiful." He trailed off his lips forming into a smile. "She's like way different and down to earth girl."

"Oohhhh~~" Boys chorused together making the latter groan in annoyance and regretting telling them.

"Lover boy is in love!" Jongdae exclaimed loudly and baekhyun threw a glare at him before shaking his head while shifting his eyes to the game.

"Honestly, I don't know if it's really that feeling or just attraction." He rolled his tongue over his lips and the boys nodded, understanding his confusion.

"Figure it out before it's too late." Everyone turned their head to Kyungsoo who spoke the most important thing and Baekhyun sighed nodding.

"YESSS! I WON!" Sehun exclaimed making everyone startle by his outburst before Baekhyun's jaw dropped at the sight of him losing.

"NOOO!"

"Heol! Daebak! Baekhyunee hyung lost first time because of a girl!" Jongin yelled laughing getting a pillow thrown on his face by Baekhyun.

"Shut up!"

"Achoo!" You groaned sniffling before proceeding your way to the kitchen. "Who the hell is bad-mouthing me?"

_______________

@wooya1224 @buttercupbbh

[mantra4ia]

Debris 1x13 "Celestial Body": rewatch Reaction'd, questions and comments

So if all those people are experiencing emotional convergence, who are they converging from? Who's sending the emotional signal that the debris is channeling, or is it the debris manifesting it's "consciousness" in a way that we can understand it by way of human conduits?

Maddox is clearly trading debris pieces with Irina (perhaps the piece that he took out of storage off the books), and Irina is on the phone with presumably her handler/ boss to negotiate this trade. She gives him lateral (which I assume means latitudinal) readings and then he asks for longitudinal readings which we don't get to hear. They are: Lateral 105, 112, 115, 120, 113, 110, 109

What's the significance of these measures? Latitude goes from 0° to 90° from the equator, so that doesn't track unless the scene is cut wrong and they're meant to be longitudinal (E/W) readings, which go to 180° relative to the prime meridian. That would make more sense, because after Irina is done with the first set of readings, the unknown caller on the phone says "drop to level two for vertical" and latitudes are North/South.

If we're talking Western longitudes, notable landmarks include: Denver, Salt Lake City UT / Phoenix AZ / nearly Sedona AZ - aka where the telesphere went, Las Vegas, Lake Tahoe/ Nevada border, Great Salt Lake, Alberta-Saskatchewan border, and the Utah-Arizona border.

Or perhaps they're not part of terrestrial measurement at all. The act of "lateral reading" could just mean verifying your sources/accuracy as you go, where as vertical reading is reading for content first to see if something is worth evaluating for sources.

However, if they are part of coordinates, then is the fragment that Maddox is trading with Irina a legitimate "mapmaker" piece like George previously said Influx was seeking? Ya know, when he lied to his daughter. Can a mapmaker piece track moving/animate debris akin to the telesphere? Are those black dust cloud beings George is running from made up of animate debris?

Bryan: After becoming a parent you're in a heightened emotional state, emotionally raw.

George: Higher highs, lower lows, the joy of having a child, the postpartum depression, and the fear of getting it wrong.

Me: Are we in a pensive, self-reflective mood, George? Are you practicing your pub trivia Bryan, delivering exposition, or are you speaking from personal character experience? Seriously, how would you know?!

John Noble as Otto, man why does he always make such a good villain?

What is with the cryptic vagueness when Maddox tells Irina, "You know I can't let you leave with that case right? I mean you know that. There's another door for you Irina, one that only you can go through." They seemed almost on good terms in a previous episode, like friends or something more in a past life "nice car, i almost left / no you didn't", he wouldn't kill her, would he? Or is it more like a code between them, a sort of "I'm being watched, take the back exit"?

Hey, so why is it that sometimes George's eye seems opaque and damaged from the debris implant, but then when he's talking to Finola after he distracts Bryan while being Debris whisperer, his eye seems fine? PS: I googled Tyrone Benskin just to see what he looks like when he's not playing George Jones and I didn't know he's a former member of Canadian Parliament. Don't trust the government, eh?

George: "You're such a compassionate person, you always have been. So much of your mother in you." That's the second time that Finola's mother has been mentioned in the series, back from the pilot. Is it a coincidence that the first piece of debris that chose to interact with Finola resonated her mom? More than just Finola's desire being reflected by the debris, but the debris emoting it's first impression of her as someone compassionate that it can trust?

It also raises my heckles that George repeats, almost word for word, something that Finola said in episode 3. "If we can't help people, we do not deserve this debris / if we don't use this debris on these people, we are not worthy to have it." Are father and daughter that ideologically similar, or has he been spying on her progress this whole time, or both?

George: "I took my life to allow myself a rebirth, I paid the price. I want you to know that not one day goes by that I don't think of you and your sister. I want you to know this." This coincides with my initial impression that George staged his death to get away from Orbital after he assessed how his research was being used/abused.

George: "You never wanted to go into the pool, I had to throw you in, and you kicked and screamed, but you always did better that way." Immabout to throw you George, just keep talking!!!! I'm sorry, this charicature of absentee father reminiscing about the good old days really ticks me off from personal experience.

Also, as a person with a disability, I am not particularly pleased with the use of Dario as a plot device instead of a thoughtful character with a backstory at this point in the show for 13 whole episodes now. Pretty pissed off actually, so they better do something phenomenal and pivotal with Christian Rose (Dario) in season 2 [maybe have his character interact with debris in a similar way to Caroline]. But that's another rant about ableism in screenwriting for another angry day....

George: "A telesphere was born yesterday. It came from a pocket dimension inside Orbital. I think it's birth may have triggered the debris." This is perhaps the one-ish episode that I find George remotely interesting and also infuriating, particularly because of the way he speaks, like he's finally taken off the guise of the old, well-meaning eccentric and turned into a sharp, cunning, and at times calculatingly ruthless individual. I find it peculiar that he says a telesphere is born. Makes me think that the debris is not just part of a spacecraft, but a hybrid of the beings piloting that craft.

I get tremendous satisfaction from Finola head-butting people. This should continue.

I'm not familiar with all of the work of JH Wyman to know if this is a running theme or an ongoing joke. But does he keep his writing staff in a constant state of starvation? Is that why pieces of debris are called "Nachos", and why Influx has "Beans" to shield them from debris side effects, and why Bryan is always eating junk food? Should I be worried about the writer's room and start sending them healthy snacks?!? Just give me an SOS in the credit roll.

Speaking of: is the "Bean" that Finola ingested a piece of debris? Similar to the pieces of debris that fused with Anson Ash? Will it impart some physical benefits to her moving forward?

"I won't lose you again...you belong with me." What are you talking about George Jones, you made the conscious decision to leave your family. You didn't lose Finola, she lost you. In this version of reality at least. Or (unscripted backstory) did Jones and his wife separate prior to her death / was Finola brought up mostly by her mother? That doesn't seem the case if she was buying her father birthday presents and took it upon herself to settle his affairs after his death.

Why do the Influx Operatives Otto and Anson have tattoos on their hands, but not Loeb? Is he like the low end of the totem pole FNG who hasn't earned his stripes, hence why Otto gives him s***: aka "Careful you cretin. All the finesse of a butcher."

What is the hierarchy of Influx anyway? Despite being an anti-government "for the people/ elevate the human consciousness" organization they do still seem to have a governing hierarchy and Otto and George seem to be on the same level, pretty high in rank / they talk with confidence to each other like they go back a while.

What is that weird thing that Otto does with his hands to Bryan's head? What are all the weird things Otto does, including his massacre at the petrol station? Ick.

Why is it that Leob and George are freaked out by the black smoke (debris particle?) man, but Anson and Otto aren't? They seem to see them(?), but don't overtly react.

Bryan: "It seems like we're entering some kind of new phase." Gee where have I heard that one before? Oh yeah, the story of "Blackwater grandfather" and the black wind that they're still teasing endlessly while refusing to tether it into some kind of world building lore. Agggghh!

Lololol, Bryan and Finola's dynamic even in the midst of a very serious episode makes me laugh. "Devon Reese / two e's? / Two e's!" "This one smells like baby diapers. Almost as bad as the tech section of the plane/ You mean your section of the plane. / Almost." That zinger 👍

Paraphrasing Bryan: "[recapping, recap, and did I mention recap]...something about George doesn't feel right." Personal pet peeve: I HATE IT when episodes have intentional explanatory lines like this to point out the fact that we as audience are privy to information that the main characters aren't. Not only does it make the main characters seem less intelligent, it breaks the fourth wall a little bit and gives the impression that the audience, which is ahead of the plot, is not as intelligent and needs a reminder that we're ahead. Lackadaisical writing drives me nuts!!! I can't outright say that it's "bad" dialogue, but it's not a choice I would make if I wanted uninterrupted viewer immersion.

Finola: "My instincts are good" Me: You are an emotionally intelligent decision maker with gaping personal blind spots.

George: You belong with me, your father.

Finola: My father died six months ago, and you are not him.

Me: Chef's kiss 👏👏👏

Otto: "It would never have worked out with that girl [Finola], not in any iteration." Definitely makes me lean towards the fan theory that the alt!Finola in (presumably) suspensia in Sedona Arizona got plucked from another reality.

Surprisingly, the ending credit roll has no voiceover as all the previous episodes of the season have. Disappointed that there's no potential teaser to a season 2 if the show gets renewed. But I find it curious that the extras who were demonstrating emotional convergence were credited as: chess board persons. Not sure if that's relevant, but I definitely feel like this show is playing games with me and my emotions.

[darthspideys]

anithesis // three

din djarin x jedi! reader

summary: You expected to find another of yoda’s species, much less under the protection of a particularly stubborn mandalorian. Little do you know its that discovery that will change life as you know it, and put all three of you in danger you never saw coming.

words: ~2k

a/n: so I think we’re doing Thursday updates now? only because I'm impatient and I can’t wait for Friday. Season 2 tomorrow guys who’s excited!? 

disclaimer: I h8 baby yoda and it shows. Also I'm terrible at action scenes. 

Now this is a situation in which some kind of strategy could have and should have been implemented. Something you can do is and keep them from getting any closer, which would then allow you an escape route before they could gather themselves enough to follow. Of course, because you can let go of that recklessness you’ve had since you were a child, you don’t do that, you don’t really think at all for a long term. What you want to do is hold them off for as long as it takes Luke to smack some sense into the senate, you’re trying not to think about the fact that even with all of his tenacity it’s going to take a while and you have no idea what’s waiting for you.

 You hang back and wait at first, hoping that they don’t see you when the first scout out the area. Luckily they don’t you watch as the troopers get off the bikes and walk through the sands, guns drawn. You can’t see a leader with them at first, but you figure there is one because most stormtroopers that you’d seen wouldn’t really know how to pull off an operation like this on their own. They seem harmless from your perspective, like they wouldn’t even find the place if they looked for the whole afternoon. But you know better, the many squadrons of stormtroopers you’d faced off against showed you that they could be much smarter than they seemed, and some of them had lightsabers. 

 These ones luckily did not have lightsabers, but you know better than to assume they wouldn’t find what they were looking for. So you creep out of the ship slowly, and sneak up behind a couple of them who have separated from the group. Before they can even make a noise, they're down on the ground motionless and you’re beginning to think that maybe you missed battle just a little bit. 

 You wait until two more separate off from the group, and you stand on top of the rock, then jump down to get both of them on the four day before you can even see you coming. 

 There are about ten more of them, which you know because all of them have their weapons trained on you. This is fine, you think. The lightsaber flies into your hands, then ignites before they start shooting. You block the bolts easily, and throw half of them away from you, taking down the other half. You duck more of their shots, ready to finish them off when a figure in black appears out of the dust. 

 All of the stormtroopers look to him, and they move to the sides so it’s just you and him. You don’t really know what’s going on, and all you can think is who is this guy? 

 He looks you over, and fixes his eyes on the lightsaber for a moment. He reaches out and pulls a blade out of his coat. You don’t recognize it at first but as soon as he ignites it, and the jet black blade stands out amongst the bright yellows of the desert your eyes go wide. This is a lot more complicated than you could’ve thought. You lunge at him, eager to get this over with and he comes back with a talented swing that you didn’t expect. 

 Somehow he figured out how to use it properly. Not using a lightsaber form of any kind but he knows enough to be dangerous. The two of you fight in a clash of black and green, lighting up the desert in bright colors and filling the air with the sound of power connecting with power.

 You start to realize that you might be a little outmatched. Okay maybe not outmatched, maybe evenly matched but needless to say your not winning this as fast as you want to. You pull back and try to use the ship as cover to gain an advantage, but he sees what you're doing and orders the troopers to fire. 

 You no longer have a way home as it turns out. The troopers fire destroys your ship, and it explores in a blast of orange color, which sends you back a few feet and onto your back again. There’s a pattern that’s beginning to from, and you do not like it. 

 He comes over to you and holds out the darksaber to your neck like he’s won, “I’ve always wanted to meet a Jedi, and then kill one.” 

 “Today’s not the day,” You say jumping to your feet and punching him in the face. He doesn’t see it coming, and one more kick sends him sprawling to the ground. You cut across his leg eith your lightsaber, leaving him gasping in pain. 

 Then you run, you don’t know where your doing at first but when you see what you assume is the mandalorian’s you run to it as fast as you can. You manage to climb on just as the door closes. 

 “Su cuy'gar,” He grumbles when he sees you get in. 

You narrow your eyes at him, “Surprised?” The anger bubbles up in your chest and there’s no use controlling it at this point. He looks at you, most likely surprised that you understood what he’d said, so you use that and the next thing he knows he's on the ground with your foot on his chest. The ship shakes briefly with the force of him hitting the ground. 

“Calm down,” He says 

“I am calm,” You say, your foot still on his chest, “Just when you say, ‘the empire’ it’s better if you specify that it’s a moff with the darksaber. It’s just a very important piece of information considering I could’ve just died trying to save your ass, okay?” You’re scary calm when you say it, which you can tell makes the tension in the air worse. 

He doesn’t say anything but it seems like he gets the message, and he starts off toward the cockpit when you let him up. He waits for the child to follow him, but it doesn't, it stays glued to your leg. When he sees that, he stops waiting and just leaves, what you can feel is disappointment in his wake. If it makes him feel any better he’s not the only one who is disappointed, you’re stuck on this ship with the four of them now unable to contact Luke or Leia or anyone. 

You take a seat, with the child on your lap. He grabs onto your finger and takes hold which makes you a little calmer than you were before. If there were any time to think of a game plan, it would be now when it’s just you in the cold vacuum of space. 

Meditation has always been hard for you to master.  Your mind is always running, you're always thinking, always moving, so sitting down and not letting your mind wander is a challenge. But somehow, on the ship which shakes and rumbles as it flies through space, you manage to do it for all of ten minutes. You can see Luke on Tatooine, standing in the midst of a squadron of new republic pilots, looking for something. He’s looking for you. He came looking for you but all he found was dust, and rubble. He moves to the blown out hull of where your ship used to be and you can feel his worry for you even though you're far away. You’re reaching out to him, trying to tell him that you're alive, that you're coming back but you can't reach him. You're just left to watch as he searches for you in vain, and that hurts you more than you can say. You blame yourself because you can't focus enough to spiritually connect with the force, you can use it’s physical aspects easily but things like this, the reaching out that Luke and Leia can do so easily you’ve never been able to get that far. 

You open your eyes again and you're frustrated, you kick the edge of the wall in front of you and decide to head up into the cockpit. The Mandalorian hears you come up and turns to you with his arms crossed over his chest. “What do you want?” 

You sit against the edge of the control panel, making sure that you don’t press any buttons. “You know where we could very easily go?” He doesn’t bite but you take a pause just in case he wants to. “Chandrila, you could just drop me off right there. I'll take the child with me and all's right with the world.” 

“You really don’t give up do you?” He spins his seat around, and tries to ignore you. 

“It’s the fact that this is my only job that makes me this way,” You shrug. “When I said all the time in the world, I meant all the time in the world. Not to mention that I pretty much saved your life back there so I think you owe me.”

“I don’t owe you that much.” You let out a huff and sit there quietly until he turns to you again. There’s a pause, and then he turns to you with a look you can't decipher and it's not because of the helmet. “You called that weapon Gideon had, a darksaber, what is that? And how do you know about it?” 

Heat rises to your cheeks and you tighten your grip on the underside of the control panel. There’s not a truthful explanation that’ll keep him from asking more questions, the darksaber is Mandalorian legend (so it surprises you that he didn’t recognize it right away, but then again a lot of history was lost when the empire twisted Mandalore into their weapon), which is something that as far as he knows you should know nothing about. You absentmindedly reach for the lightsaber, not that you're going to attack, it's just a tick you have when you get nervous. 

“How do you not know?” You tease him, trying to distract from his question, “The darksaber was used right before the destruction of the death star to unite the five tribes of Mandalore under one ruler, that was not of clan Vizsla.” He doesn’t seem like he’s getting it, “You're odd for a mandalorian.”  

“You know a lot about Mandalore,” He says, eyeing you suspiciously. 

You curse yourself internally, you walked right into that one. You’ve always been a bit too eager to show off the information you know. “It’s such a curiosity,” You say by way of excuse. You shrug, “And it’s always nice to know your enemy.” That’s what seals it off, any hope of cooperation or even begrudging familiarity. You had to do something to remind him that you weren’t friends, and that he should be suspicious of you, he should be afraid of you. “I’ve had access to some of the empire's old archives, they were meticulous with their record keeping.” 

“So you read all of it?” He says. “I find that hard to believe.”

You scoff, “Rude. I love to read.” 

“Oh do you? You strike me as more of a-” He pauses, like he couldn’t describe you even if he tried, and he’s trying. “-hurricane.”

[4kyl0]

ache.

part ii.

pairing: ben solo x reader

summary: it had been one long grueling year since you last saw ben solo. during that period, you joined the resistance. ben on the other hand, was still the fearless supreme leader of the first order, kylo ren. now, an odd calling lead him back to varykino; revealing secrets and memories that were “meant” to stay hidden. (takes place in the midst of tros)

rating: sfw. more angst than fluff this time.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: sorry for the long wait! i’m finishing up school at the moment :)

“Supreme Leader, you cant just leave—”

“Enough.”

"A war is happening—"

"And your men will finish it." Kylo practically snarled, turning to the uptight general behind him.

Hux grew quiet, glaring daggers at him."Might I ask where you're going, Supreme Leader?" he spat, his lip quivering in anger.

"I'm not obligated to tell you about my whereabouts," Kylo was quick to retort. He felt as if his stomach were in knots.

Varykino had been calling him. He dreamt about it night after night, its memory prodding at the back of his mind everyday. He was unsure what it meant, but he would not rest until he understood. His stomach lurched if he even thought about acting on it. He wondered aimlessly if you were still there. Still alive and well. But he shielded those thoughts away, diminishing all feelings with it.

"I'll be gone for a week or less. nothing more. I expect full reports on everything when I return, General Hux," his modulated voice broke the uneasy silence between the two. Before Hux could respond, Kylo stormed off, his boots echoing throughout Starkiller Base.

***

You had left. Which was even more nerve wracking. The lake retreat was caked with dust, a few cracks in the foundation here and there. Only a year had passed, yet it was falling apart.

Kylo stopped in front of the villa. The pull was stronger than it was ever before. He didn't know why, but he took his leather gloves off, starting to walk towards the entrance now. Taking one of his calloused hands, he dragged it softly against one of the smooth, but cracked, walls. A sudden urge made him come to a halt once more.

Turning his gaze to the wall, the cracks glowed a vibrant light blue. His breath caught in his throat. A force essence, he thought. He had encountered a few before, when he was a padawan. But he never sought them out. What surprised him was that he had never seen one so luminous like now. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, he placed his hands on the crack, feeling him slip out of reality.

"I saw my mother," a young man spoke, his appearance showing that he was a Jedi padawan. "She is suffering badly," he added, turning to a woman behind him. she was young, like him. She had curly brown hair passing shoulder length. It looked like she was wearing a night gown and robe.

"I saw her as clearly as I see you now," he breathed, continuing to hold gaze with the woman. Lingering far too long, he turned his back to her again, walking a few steps forward. A sigh escaped him, "She is in pain." He turned to the woman once more, "I know I'm disobeying my mandate to protect you senator, but I have to go," the young padawan fretted, now taking a few steps towards the woman. "I have to help her." he whimpered, trembling a little.

She locked eyes with him, the emotion that had plastered itself on her face was unreadable. She hadn't spoke a word.

"I'll go with you," she assured; her voice smooth and calm.

"I'm sorry, I don't have a choice—"

Gasping, Kylo pushed off the wall harshly. His mind was spiraling. Who are they? He wondered, the two felt oddly familiar. He didn't know how exactly, neither his mother or father ever mention such people. He huffed, clenching is fists into tight balls. Eventually calming down, he continued to explore the what was once a grand lake house.

After what felt like days of searching out for anything, Kylo made it to the balcony; the last place he ever saw you. The memory felt fresh, as if it happened yesterday. Thinking of you made his shoulders sag, a huff passing through his lips. Even if you were upset, you were still beautiful. No, he thought, you hurt her. Sighing, the cloaked knight walked to the edge of the balcony, looking out on the view. It felt more dull; as if the scenery had lost an ounce of the bright colors it once had.

A flash of blue caught his eye. Turning his head, he saw a deep crack along the stone rail, the glow erupting from it more vibrant than ever. Like before, he took a deep breath, and let it go slowly. Lifting his hand, he placed it on top of the fracture, closing his eyes.

"I don't like sand." it was the padawan again, the woman from before beside him as well. "It's course and ruff and irritating—" he proceeded to fidget with stray pebbles along the rail "—and it gets everywhere." Dropping the pebbles, the young padawan looked out, "not like here, here everything is soft," his gaze averted to the senator. He bit his lip, hesitant, "and smooth." his hand rubbed against her own, and  moved up her back. The young woman turned to look at him. They stared at each other quietly, the padawan even smiling a little.

Ever so slowly, he inched closer to her, their eyes still locked on each other. Closing the distance, they kissed. It was passionate, as if the two had longed for one another. As quickly as it happened, the senator pulled away, "no." she gasped, "I shouldn't have done that," she avoided his gaze.

"I'm sorry," he broke the short lived awkward silence. He lifted his head up, his eyes searching to look at anything but her. They both looked pained.

Yanking his hand from the stone rail, Kylo shuddered. The scene replayed in his head over and over again, making him groan aloud. I shouldn't have come here, his mind was buzzing, it was a mistake. Collecting himself, the cloaked knight let out a frustrated groan. It wasn't clear to what the Force was trying to tell him, but he didn't want to know either. For all he knew, it seemed like a distraught couple's spirits wallowing in the vacant structure. Yet, he felt strangely connected to them.

Turning around, Kylo took one step before going still. A signature in the Force practically knocked him off of his feet. It felt familiar; but it was strong, and not budging. Sucking air in through his nose and out, he clutched at his lightsaber, planting his feet firmly on the ground.

"You're quite loud," his modulated voice taunted, "projecting yourself? You lack of stealth and common sense." He closed his eyes, focusing on his surroundings through the Force.

As a twig snapped beside him, Kylo was quick to unsheathe his saber, pointing it intimidatingly at the shaded figure. He smirked, "come out into the light."

Complying, the figure walked out of the shadows, revealing you pointing a blaster at his chest.

His breath hitched, and his shoulders became more tense by the second. You changed; drastically so. You no longer wore fine dresses and headbands, in place of them was a leather jacket and combat boots. Your eyes failed to hold the brightness it once obtained; they were dull, and glassy.

"What are you doing here?" you barked, your tone low and harsh.

"I could ask you the same thing," Kylo retorted, his voice holding no emotion.

The both of you stood in silence, observing each other. It had only been a year, yet it felt like a thousand. Seeing you only brought back the feeling of being touch starved, and how much he craved intimacy with you. But things were different now, he knew he shouldn't feel this way.

"I see you haven't changed," your voice broke through the quiet. He didn't respond. "Still wearing that ridiculous helmet, too. I must say, you added flare to it with the little red streaks."

Oh, you were teasing him now. Anger bubbled up in his stomach, but he refused to lash out. He didn't want to scare you, but that angered him even more. He should feel the need to lash out at you, make you realize how miserable you made him felt.

Kylo huffed, "And I see that you've changed." Lowering his gaze, he practically growled. The Resistance symbol had been embroidered on the sleeve of your jacket, "a Resistance fighter."

You paused; your facial expression morphing into sadness. Your gaze flickered to him and the lake. You were nervous.

"Ben—" you hesitated, but continued, "she misses you," you mumbled. "I miss you," you managed to make eye contact with him as you spoke those words, even through his helmet.

Kylo hadn't noticed he stopped breathing. Ben, he thought; as if he had almost forgotten it. Ever since he had fought with you, the mere mention of his actual name made him nauseous. How much hurt was prominent in your voice when you cried it. How you were drowning in your own tears that day. He shivered.

"Her son—" he faltered as you did before,"—is dead." He felt like he was reciting a poem. "He was weak and foolish," his deep voice bellowed throughout the retreat, "so I killed him."

Your bottom lip quivered as your eyes glossed over. Returning your blaster to your holster, you slowly walked over to Kylo, now having to crane your neck to look up at him. His eyes darted to where his lightsaber should be, but it was on the floor, the intimidating red spark that once flared now dead.

"No," you shook your head, your hands reaching for the sides of his helmet. He didn't stop you, "he's not dead." With a hiss, you pulled the clunky piece of metal off of his head, tossing it to the far end of the balcony. As Ben's dark curls fell to frame his face, his gaze never left yours.

You held back a gasp. He was still unbelievably beautiful, even more so. "If anything, Ben Solo is alive, and he wants to be free," you proclaimed in a hushed tone, holding his face in your small hands.

Ben started to breathe harder and harder, the proximity of how close your faces were to each other caused you to feel the little puffs of air exit through his nose as he did so. He missed this. How you held his face, how you kissed him, how you embraced him. He could feel his face grow hot.

“Come with me,” you breathed, your eyes now half-lidded. “Please,” your voice dripped with longing.

“I—” the sound of an X-Wing flying by cut Ben off. Snapping his head up to the sky, he saw the orange paint streaked across the craft. His heart dropped to his stomach. “You called them here,” he snarled, his gaze returning to yours. All color had drained from your face.

“Ben—”

Holding his hand out to where his helmet was thrown, it instantly flew back in his palm. Yanking it over his head, he snatched his lightsaber from the ground. “If you follow me, I won’t hesitate to split you in half,” he fumed, now stomping away from the balcony.

There you stood. Shocked and hurt. Alone. Your bottom lip quivered, but you refused to recognize it.

Resistance fighters came piling in the broken structure, scouting the premises for Kylo Ren.

“Where did he go? Did you see him? Are you okay?” one asked, squeezing your shoulder softly.

You paused, in thought, “No,” you answered, all emotion vacant from your voice. “No, I didn’t see him.”

tag list:

@crazynocturnalkiki @star-marvel-fangirl @kiaoizz @reddieisrealbitches @jiminie-slytherin @moonprincess003 @heda-mikaelson

[cc-tinslebee]

Hey!! Real quick -- thank you @demetriandelibinaryboyfriends for the tag!!

It's the year 2021 and you're obsessed with The Karate Kid. How are you feeling?

I wasn’t not expecting this in the slightest— I decided to watch Cobra Kai on a whim in January while my mom and I were dying my hair, and somehow it became my second hyperfixation of the year?? Wack??

Did you grow up with TKK or are you new to the series?

Actually, my first introduction to the Karate Kid was the 2010 film with Jaden Smith. It came out when I was younger, so I used to watch it religiously. Then after watching The Outsiders in eighth grade, my dad convinced me to watch the first two original Karate Kid movies before they were kicked off Netflix. Lowkey, the entire time, I was like, “Johnny Cade??” I still haven’t seen the third film because Netflix DVD is homophobic (/j), but I didn’t really get into it until Cobra Kai.

We gotta do the basics. Favorite character:

🎶Demetri and Eli, binary booooyfrieeends brooootheeers.🎶 You already know. Somehow relate to both of them a little too much— also Moon!! My beloved!!

Favorite ship:

Elimetri, MoonPiper, and Samiguel all have my heart 🥺

Underrated character:

*takes out a list that hits the floor and keeps rolling* Okay so—

I’m just playing— for underrated-underrated characters, Moon because she’s overshadowed by Yasmine and misogynists, definitely Chris because he’s a legend, and Bert/Nate because the wiki always says ‘some kid’ in reference to them which is like ://

But Moon and Demetri are 100% my biggest underrated-even-though-they’re-a-somewhat-big-character characters. Moon is not a villain and Demetri is not the worst, thank you very much. *points at Reddit and The Cheat Sheet* y’all are just misogynistic and neurotypical.

Underrated ship (don’t say therapy, lol):

MoonPiper is kinda underrated, I think? A good chunk of the fandom is adamant on it, which is great, but in the lense of the show, not so much right now. Also torisha kinda! My girls!!

And Shawbby!! Let Robby have a bond outside of this karate nonesense!! It’s what he deserves!!

We’re not gonna talk about my season one-exclusive Moon/Eli/Demetri ship, we’ve already been over this—

Wax On, Wax Off or Sweep the Leg?

Sweep the leg, babey!! I’m definitely on the side of @demetriandelibinaryboyfriends about how it’s genuinely amazing how Demetri just took the move Eli used against him and ran with it. Yes, he is petty, and we love him for it. Me too tbh

Which of Daniel’s dumb little outfits is your favorite?

Dork man TKK-era Daniel had the best fashion sense tho

Character from the films you most want to return, who’s not Terry Silver:

At first, I was going to say I couldn’t think of anyone, but now!! Bring back my boy Freddy Fernandez!! He totally disappeared after the beginning of the first film, and I wanna see him again!! Also Ali’s friend Susan!

Scene that lives in your head rent-free:

Any Moon & Demetri scene, and I am once again asking them to pay rent— also 100% the Valley Fest scene where Eli pulls Demetri onstage. Iconic of them.

Also, lowkey, any Torisha scene. Somehow so unintentionally gay?? I legitimately thought they were telling me that Aisha had a crush on her??

Will Anthony LaRusso ever be relevant?

Lowkey, please gods no. Didn’t he appear, like, one (1) time in season three? I think it’s good that they have a comic relief character that’s involved in the conflict by extension, but not actively involved. It’s great to see the LaRusso family, two of them in the midst of this big fight, another getting roped into it and being extra passionate about her husband and daughter being hurt, and then you have the youngest child, serenely playing video games and not giving any fucks

You live in The Valley and are forced into the karate gang war. Which dojo do you join?

I second Bri’s remark — having done karate in the past, Cobra Kai would eat me alive, and I don’t trust Johnny to teach another neurodivergent queer kid. I could probably stand to gain from Daniel’s patience; I’d definitely be Demetri in that situation.

What’s your training montage song?

Dude, I have an entire playlist that I work out to, and I’m very indecisive, so I’ll just say my my main hype song, House of Wolves.

It’s the crossover event of the century! Which TV show are you combining with Cobra Kai for an hour-long Saturday night special?

You already KNOW I’m saying Kickin It. I won’t go in-depth because I already have, but the absolute power they’d have. Demetri and Milton, our favourite sassy Jewish nerds and their aggressively cool (respective) boyfriends Hawk and Jerry. Kim vibing with Sam like they deserve (and give me that good Kim & Bert cousins content, hand it over 🤲🏻). Miguel talking with Jerry in Spanish and, like, idolising Jack!! And you already know the comedic opportunites the Falafel Phil/Anoush thing could have.

Not sure if y’all have done this yet, and don’t feel pressured to if you don’t want to, but I figured I’d tag you folks!! @spidercrush3 @brattycobra @latetoalltheparties @binary-boyfriends4life @transdaniellarusso

[adragonhoardingstories]

Of Blood and Bonds - Chapter 4

@mystery-5-5 @synnesstra @thesunanditsangel

@abrx2002 @clumsy-owl-4178 @daminett4life @zalladane

@heaven428 @unmaskedagain

@dawnwave16 @kris-pines04 @emeraldpuffguide @hypnosharkrebeldreamer

@weird-pale-blonde-person

@ravennightingaleandavatempus

@persephonebutkore

@be-happy-every-day-please @blue-peach14 @annabellabrookes

@jaynintodd @st0rmy-w1th1n @bluerosette23 @ladysblackcat @18-fandoms-unite-08

@vixen-uchiha @novicevoice @jessigurl-design @tinyterror333

@rebecarojas07 @sparkle9510 @magicalfirebird

@mewwitch @shamefullove

@ravennightingaleandavatempus

@sassydepression @caffeinetheory

@reyna-avila-ramirez-alreanaldo

@krispydefendorpolice @mermaidofthelost @zalladane @drarryismylife101 @ladybug-182 @northernbluetongue @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @iloontjeboontje @mjisntme

@dorkus-minimus @firesong323 @chocolatecatsthero @wargraymon0709 @bamagirlkrista

@moonlightstar64 @captain-lostkid @angelicbookfangirl @lunar-wolf-warrior @roseunivers999 @dur55 @emeraldpuffguide @evil-elf16 @crazylittlemunchkin @moonlightstar64 @semaalcocer-blog @skyel0ve

On that note, this book will contain swearing, mentions of rape and torture. I will try not be explicit but that's really relative. Read at your own risk. There will be warning before if I make a explicit scene so that you can skip it.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy and don't hunt me down for this.

___________________________________

"Colin this is Marinette, my sister, Marinette this is Colin." Damian introduced the redhead who seemed a bit bewildered but he recovered quickly. 

"Pleased to meet you ma'am. I didn't know that Damian had another sibling."

"Well neither did he before yesterday." Marinette laughed good-naturedly. "So you're his best friend." 

"Yep!" Damian didn't refute the statement. 

"So Miss Marinette where are you from?" 

"Just Marinette is fine Colin." 

"Bu-"

"Miss makes me feel old, you don't want that now, do you?" The boy looked scandalised. "I'm only about two years older than Damian anyways so if you want to call me by a nickname, that's fine too."

The boy grinned shyly. "Okay Marinette."

Damian looked distinctly surprised. "Well done, he still calls the others Mr, they are going to be annoyed by this development."

"Oh Damian." Marinette turned on her heels and winked at them, eyes full of mischief. "This is nothing. I got Alfred to  call me by just my first name?" 

Now, both boys looked very impressed but still disbelieving. "I'll believe it when I see it." The redhead claimed. Marinette laughed but said nothing more on the matter.

"So where are you bringing me?" 

"The Gotham's Botanical Garden. I think you'll enjoy it. However, I must warn you to stay clear of anything that may anger Poison Ivy. "

She took it in stride. "Of course, I'll ask before I do anything." 

"It'll be so fun. People don't talk about it because of Ivy but the gardens are so beautiful." Colin started ranting and Marinette hid a smile at the fond expression on her little brother's face. If one didn't know what to be looking for, they would miss it but Marinette had become very very attuned to emotions, especially after she gained the Miraculous and became Guardian. 

"-attract so many different kinds of butterflies."

"Huh." Marinette mused. "It'll be nice seeing some actual butterflies and not akumas for once."

"You mentioned akumas before too." Damian interrupted. "What are they?"

She seemed a little surprised. "Do you - do you really have no idea of what's going on in Paris?" 

Both of the boys shook their head. Even Colin looked curious now. 

"It's pretty surreal but, when I was twelve, this guy surfaced. He calls himself Hawkmoth. He sends out these magic butterflies called akumas to anyone who's experiencing any negative emotion to possess them. He makes a deal with the victims to give them powers for them to be able to take revenge upon whatever wrong happened to them and return he asks for the Miraculous of Ladybug and Chat Noir."

"Who?" Colin interrupted and Marinette blinked. She had sounded so...old, so burdened as she spoke - so different from the bubbly macaroon making girl that Damian had learnt to know. 

"Right, context. After his first akuma, two heroes surfaced in Paris too. They're powered by the Miraculous too. Hawkmoth wants Ladybug's earrings and Chat Noir's ring. No one knows why exactly and well we're not interested to find out. More power in that madman's hands can only cause harm." 

"You mean to say." Damian's voice was flat. "That there has been a sociopathic terrorist in Paris for five years and no one knows of it. Why didn't the mayor call for the Justice League?"

Marinette's face darkened. It almost made both if the boys shudder and take a step back. 

"Oh but we did. More than once, more than ten times in fact. We only stopped whenthe Leaguers asked us to stop wasting their time with pranks."

"What?" Damian exploded. "They just disregarded all the damage that must have been caused, all the phone calls. They didn't even look into it."

Marinette placed a hand in his shoulder, urging her aura to seek his and calm him down. "The thing is one of Ladybug's powers is the Miraculous Cure. It fixes all the damage caused in the midst of battle."

"All the damage?" Even Damian didn't seem to believe it at that point. 

"I know it seems too good to be true." She fished out her phone and tried to look for a video. "And we understood that but everyone in Paris is pissed that they didn't even bother come verify our so called claims. I mean for God's sake, they have aliens, shapeshifters, magicians and even guys who are themselves powered by magical jewelry if I'm not wrong." 

Marinette huffed as she found a video. It was one of the first ones from the Ladyblog, when Alya was still a reliable reporter. She played the video. It was of The Mime and it showed how he cut the Eiffel Tower in two as well as the Miraculous Cure taking effect. 

The boys especially Damian seemed horrified and Marinette felt a little of guilt for subjecting them to that. 

But then Damian looked up at her and his lazarus green eyes of reminded her that he probably had seen worse. 

"That's…" He didn't seemed to know what to say. 

"Terrifying." Colin said. "Are they all really that strong?" Marinette winced, debating whether to tell them the truth of not. 

Damian seemed to sense that. "You can tell us." He prompted and she sighed, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

"That's actually one of the tamer villians." She admitted. "The Mime appeared during the first year of Hawkmoth's reign of terror. One of the worst akumas back then that come to mind is Syren. She flooded the entirety of Paris, about three quarter of the population died and were brought back by the cure." She took another look at them and decided that she wasn't going to be the cause of their further trauma. 

"Hey, this is it, right?" She promptly changed the subject, knowing very well that she hadn't been subtle at all. "Gotham Botanical Gardens." She beamed down at them. 

"Wow, it's beautiful." She took a moment to appreciate the sight. "Hey you're right, there's a lot of butterflies. Can we go there first?" She was basically bouncing as she turned to look at her brother and his best friend. 

Colin looked gleeful while Damian seemed just amused. "You act like a child." Her brother informed her. She stuck out her tongue at him. "And you speak like an old man but you don't see me complaining." 

"Fair enough." He chuckled. "What are you waiting for? Let's go then."

He couldn't help the full-blown smile appearing on his face as both his sister and his best friend literally ran to the butterflies and started gushing together. 

He started to make his way to them when someone appeared in front of him blocking his view. His usual scowl and glare were back on his face when he looked up. The boy seemed to recoil slightly at his look but it didn't deter him more that that. 

"I don't know who you are." His tone clearly gave away that he felt like he was the one in power here. Damian cursed the time when he used to act like that. He had learnt that lesson the hard way - had learnt not to underestimate an enemy. "But you're gonna stay away from my princess. She doesn't need children like you around." 

Damian took a second to analyze him. Blond Hair. Green eyes. He remembered  reading those as Marinette's triggers during his research. He had to clench his fists to stop himself from reaching out to his weapons.

"She can decide that for himself." He said instead and went to walk around him but the boy grabbed his shoulder. 

The next thing he knew he was standing behind his sister. "Adrien." She cut in smoothly. "I didn't expect to see you here, especially not without your bodyguard." Damian could see that she was tense, her back muscles were coiled as if she was ready for a fight. 

"Princess." He was beaming. "I snuck out." He said almost proudly. "We need to talk."

"Gotham isn't Paris." Her words seemed more like a warning rather than the facts they were which the blond idiot obviously didn't catch on. "And I want nothing to do with you, haven't for  three years. I owe you nothing. Give up."

That was a clear dismissal if Damian knew one. "Princess you need to listen to me-" He reached out to grab her hand but was cut off.

The younger boy had seen her lurking but she hadn't seemed a threat so he didn't know whether he was thankful or not that she had jumped in. 

Ivy spoke "The girl asked you to go away." Thankful, he finally decided.

The boy looked a little nervous - so he did have some braincells. "Ma'am, respectfully, this does not concern you." Well not enough it seemed. 

"Oh well, respectfully." Her plants towered behind them. "I don't give a damn. Stay away from them."

The plants grabbed him and threw him just outside the park boundaries. It seemed a little tame for the likes of Ivy but then again she always did go softer for children even if they were brats.

Damian watched as the boy scrambled back to his feet and glared in their direction before he stomped off. 

"Damian." His sister was clearly fretting over him, he would never admit it but it felt good, he felt loved. "Are you alright? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"I'm alright, I'm alright. I told you, I can take care of myself." 

She smiled, soft and relieved. "I don't doubt it but promise me if you see either him or Lila from yesterday, you need go the other way."

"Why?" He frowned. He had a doubt on blondie but what about that Lila girl? 

"And by Lila, do you mean the sausage haired girl?"

His sister cracked a grin at that thought she was still serious. "Yeah her."

"Why?" He repeated and she became grim at once. "Because he's sick in the head and she's a psychopath so please, promise me." She met his eyes and really, faced to that did Damian have any other choice but to accept?

She beamed at him as Colin approached them. "That was so cool. Are you okay Dames?" He turned to talk to his best friend and gave him a once over before nodding. 

"Thank you for stepping in." He heard his sister and turned around. Ivy may be one of the villains-turned-anti-hero but it didn't mean that people didn't need to be wary around her. What was Marinette thinking?

"Boys like him need to be taught a lesson before it's too late." Damian's mind immediately went to Harley's and Joker's relationship. 

"I don't think a lesson would do him any kind of good at this point but thank you." 

It was very apparent that her words made Ivy re-evaluate her. 

The woman gave a nod. "Don't mention it." She said nothing else but didn't move away. 

Marinette smiled. "By the way, I love that flower in your hair. That's a lily right?" 

"Yes." She said slowly but the spark in her eye showed that she was now interested. "You know flowers?" 

"I have a garden of my own." Marinette revealed. "I tried growing some lilies but they're no where as beautiful as this one." Marinette fished for her phone again and started showing her images. The older woman didn't say anything but Damian could see that she was interested and she seemed almost pleased.

Deeming it safe for now, he slowly turned to Colin who was staring at the scene with amazement. 

"Colin." His friend turned to him wide-eyed, "Your sister is amazing." 

He couldn't help but feel smug at the words. "Obviously." He said but then lowered his voice. "Tell me, how did she get to me so fast when she was watching butterflies with you." 

Colin sobered up at that. "She was talking to me when suddenly she just snapped her head up to look at you. I think that's when the boy came. She told me to stay there and started walking towards you. The thing is when the guy touched you, she was about half-way there, I didn't register but the next thing I knew she was standing between you and the blond." He shook his head. "There's something about her…it's not necessarily bad but she's just...different…special."

"I know what you mean." Damian agreed.

~

"-and then she spoke with Poison Ivy for one hour straight about plants and gardening. Ivy even gave us a personal tour of the botanical gardens." 

"Seriously? She usually takes forever to warm up to someone especially if the other sirens aren't with her."

"Marinette seems to be the exception." The youngest Wayne said as he but into another macaroon. Once again, he had been ambushed on his return home - this time however, it was only his brothers and that had demanded he tell them all about her. 

His felt his phone vibrate and knew it was the message he was awaiting. "She's busy during the day." He informed his brothers. "But she invited us for dinner."

His brothers looked at each other and grinned. Tommorow looked promising.

[kileyrose-2003]

Rebecca character headcanons: How they react to seeing without a towel infront of them by accident after a shower

A/N: Hello lovelies! This is for my dear friend @merci-bitch I'm still working on all of your request. Most of them are being started from square one. So bare with me as I make it through them. Coming back fully is a work in progress for me. I'm going through a bit of a rough patch right now. It's all going to be okay in the end though. Just got to take everything one step at a time. I love you all and I hope you all have a wonderful day.

Warning: Implied/slight sexual content, slightly NSFW

Rose

This a common occurence with Rose

She hates shoes and I do headcanon she also dislikes clothes

She's very airy and bohemian in her style

Wears a lot of silk and cotton

She doesn't like feeling weighed down by fabric and material

It's very rare she actually wears a pair of form fitting pants when she's home

And even then, they're very stretchy

There are a couple of scene in Doctor Sleep where Stephen King explicitly writes she has no top on

Or no clothes in general

Especially around Crow.

She's a beautiful woman and she knows it

She even walks around The Bluebell Campground when she gets out the shower with only a bath sheet on

There is nothing sacred in The True Knot

They've heard and seen it all by now

So a person covered by only a bath sheet, doesn't bother them

You personally would never do it intentionally

And if you do accidentally expose yourself or run around improperly dressed, it's an accident or in the most dire of situations

At this point you're still freshly turned and holding onto rube morals still

Well

At least as much as you can being in The True Knot

On this particular occasion where you dropped the towel, it was Rose's turn to go grocery shopping

She gave you the option to come but you chose to stay behind

You slept in til about noon and you were in desperate need of a shower

And a cup of tea

She made you scream the night before

So after a little relaxation you took your shower

You're the fun one in the relationship

So if you like to sing, you sing in there. If you like to dance, you danced.

Point being you lost track of time

The cold water beading down on your skin was a harsh reminder of that

You stepped out, dried yourself

Dropped the bath towel

Went to pick out some clothes

The curtains were shut so it wasn't like anyone could see inside the trailer

Or at least you thought so

Until you heard the clicking of the door knob

You froze, panic running through your body

There was Rose, paperbags filled with groceries in her arms

At first the two of you stood there looking at each other with blank faces

Somewhere in the midst of your shock, you can hear Crow standing outside the trailer politely leaving the other bags on the steps

And you become even more mortified

But eventually Rose began to smile

"Well, that's a greeting in half isn't it."

You're immediately embarrassed by the remark which makes Rose grin even more

"No, no, no. No shame. It's not like it's the first time I've seen you in this setting, right?"

You stumble on your words even more

And you can tell Rose is genuinely enjoying it

You don't know what to do

What to say

Part of you is humiliated

But before you can conjure any words, her lips crash down upon yours, fingers running through your hair.

She is loving every single moment of this.

Especially your flustered expression afterwards

Needless to say you're not going to be needing clothes for quite a while now

Riza

Like Rose this is probably a more common occurence on Riza's part

Except with Riza, its not a matter of she hates clothes

She just likes to tease

In this scenario, Riza was out on business

She had to negotiate a new contract with an arms dealer and she wasn't supposed to be back for a few days so you had the house to yourself

As I mentioned before Riza hates anything deemed "domestic"

So you took it upon yourself to tidy up while she was gone

After a day of cleaning, you desperately needed the shower

You took longer than you normally would of, humming to yourself as you washed up

You didn't hear the clicking of the bedroom door opening mid way through

You dried off and stepped out of the shower, still singing to yourself. Not bothering to cover up with the towel.

And as you step out of the bathroom there is Riza

Comfortably lounged out on your bed, clad in a bathrobe with her martini glass in hand

She has been waiting to see the day that she could pull this off and now she can

"Hello, darling."

Her tone is sweet but clearly hints at a seductive nature

You nearly fall onto the floor, next expecting her to be there.

She laughs at you clearly entertained by not only the expression on your face but also your attire

"You're too cute, Y/n."

As she begins to approach you, she stands as tall as she can. Trying to intimidate you with her height.

"You really are such a precious thing, aren't you? So petite and most importantly, all mine."

She presses gentle kisses up and down your neck that leave you in shock

Riza knows she's seducing you every step of the way and she is loving it

She leads your hands down to the tie on her silk robe and squeezes your hand in hers

"Do you want to see what things you do to me?"

I think everyone can fill in the rest of the picture here

Kathleen

Even though Kathleen is a bit of a flirt and sometimes a tease, there are clear boundaries between the two of you

In every relationship there is a need for privacy and respect

If you have neither of those, the relationship won't work

So between the two of you, you respect the other one's need for privacy

Kathleen would never do anything to make you uncomfortable intentionally, and you are the same way towards her

Even though you share a room, you have a knock before you enter policy

Sure you've seen each other naked before, but it's what makes the two of you most comfortable

So her seeing you naked in this situation, was honestly a complete accident

You and Kathleen work different shifts

She teaches theatre during the day and you teach music at nights

You normally do your hair, makeup, etc. while Kathleen is out the house that way you can see her for a few minutes before heading your own way

You showered about an hour after she left

After you dried off, you had no hesitation to just rip the towel off

After all, it shouldn't be a big deal

You have curtains in your apartment , the front door is locked, etc.

You walk into your bedroom softly humming to yourself and much to your surprise there's Kathleen

Rummaging through your shared bedroom trying to find her wallet

The two of you immediately let out a yell and yiy try to make an attempt to cover yourself with anything in sight

"What the hell are you doing?"

"What the hell am I doing?! I thought you were at work."

"I was at work but I had Augustus cover for me so I can run home. I can't find my damn wallet!"

You both were so embarrassed and your faces were evidence of that

It's something you both laugh about now but at the moment, it was not so funny.

After throwing on a bath robe and twenty minutes of searching, you eventually found the wallet and Kathleen was ready to go

She wrapped her arms around you at the front door

"Well that was quite the experience. Wouldn't you say so, darling?"

The smirk on her face is evidence she's well over the incident

But you can't help but tease

"Don't act like you didn't like it." You loop your arms around her neck. "I seen the way that you looked at me without that towel on before we had a moment to process."

The way she purses her lips makes your heart pound from the residual anxiety

But she eventually kisses you on the lips

The kiss last a while and leaves you out of breath

But it's a nice farewell that leaves a smile on your face

She might show you how much she loves you later on a day off after a drink or two

It's the little moments like this that make your relationship special

Jenny

Like I've mentioned before, Jenny is very clingy to who she deems as "hers"

So when it comes to your relationship, she has no sense of privacy or space at times

You could be in the middle of taking a shower and all the sudden

"You know, this is my favorite outfit."

And there's Jenny with her head either peaking in the shower or standing in the shower with you

It's a bit annoying and it's caused a few arguments between the two of you but you won't let it ruin your relationship

So this her seeing you naked thing, is somewhat common

On the occasion you accidentally dropped the towel, you thought she was downstairs rehearsing for her next show

She had a tour planned for the following week around Europe so you figured mine as well you do something nice to her before she goes on the road

You purposely picked out nice clothes

Spread them out all nice on the bed

You stepped out of the shower

Dried yourself off

Dropped the towel and as you're midway through walking to the bedroom

"Darling, I'm-"

You freeze up

And Jenny just stared at you

You can see her cheeks turn red and muttered a small "I'm sorry."

But she isn't

And her face shows it

Her lips are hinting at a slight smile

Smugness gleaming in those piercing eyes

"Could you stop staring at me like that?"

"Like what?"

And she knows damn well how she's staring at you

Her eyes wandering all over the place

"Like you're hypnotized."

"Well if I'm hypnotized by you tell me, how do I fix it?"

I think we all know how this ends

Rebecca

Rebecca is a very non judgmental person and has a good sense of humor

She's not the type that would make a huge deal about accidentally seeing you naked after a shower

Especially if it was within a time frame you didn't expect her to be home

Because she does travel alot for work

She'd be a little embarrassed at first

"Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry!"

Her cheeks would be cherry red and immediately reaching out to hand you your towel

And she'd step out to give you a moment to get dressed

Trying to make small talk to get both your minds off the incident

But afterwards it doesn't cross either of your minds

She's back to her normal self, hanging all over you every second she can and snogging

Dinah

If I already didn't want to hug Dinah, her reaction to this makes me want to hug her even more

Dinah is big on privacy

Even in your relationship, she likes to keep some things to herself

She will cuddle with you

She will kiss you

She will hug you

But she will not get undressed infront of you

And she absolutely would not want to see you naked

Under any circumstance

Her seeing you nude is something she is just not ready for

It's nothing against you

But she still needs time to heal and she doesn't know if she's ready for that next level in your relationship

And you respect that completely

The day she seen you naked was a complete accident

Dinah was busy doing errands and such while you were soaking in the bath after a long day of cleaning, so you figured she wouldn't be home anytime soon

Your body was fiercely sore. It hurt to even wrap a towel around it.

So what was the harm in not putting on a towel

As you were half way to your room, you heard the door the padding of feet softly across the floor and you froze

"Y/n, I'm back. My apologies, I-"

Yours and Dinah's eyes interlock and she nearly lets out a scream

She was petrified and looked near the verge of tears

Whether it was out of shock or embarrassment you can't tell

But it hurt so much inside to see her like that

You open your mouth to say something but before you even have the chance to say anything she's running outside

You debate on going after her right away but what good would it do?

She was already scared as it is and it's not like you can take the chances of walking outside nude

So you throw on a dress and shawl as quickly as you could and go to find her

When you do, she has her face buried in her hands but she's not crying which brings some relief

It was an accident obviously so she immediately forgives you but it's an incident that still sticks in your head for the next couple of days

Ilsa

Ilsa is similar to Rebecca in this situation except the shock factor hits her harder

She was off on a mission for the past couple of weeks and you were missing her terribly

Ilsa was supposed to be home earlier during the day but something came up

So you figured you'd take the time to make her a nice dinner and make yourself up

You didn't even hear her walk through the front door when she got home

You had the stereo on as you were making dinner and never bothered to shut it off

You dried off quickly in the bathroom and left the towel on the counter as you stepped out

You walked into your room expecting to be alone but there was Ilsa, clad in her favorite sweats and t shirt

Her eyes lock with yours and for a second it's intense, almost as if she's mad at you

If you weren't so locked up, you would of been running to find the nearest item of clothing and Ilsa must of seen it

Her expression quickly faded into an almost hinted smile and she blushed

"Hell-I am so sorry."

"No, no. It's fine. I made dinner if you want it. Do you mind to-"

"No, not at all."

You notice her eyes lingering as she leaves you alone to get dressed and you can't help but feel slightly humiliated

But by the time you're out of the room and dressed, she's over it and is all over you

Kissing your face all over and holding you close

The time you get alone is rare, but you both cherish it

[sunarintoes]

Synopsis: Yn Ln is an environmentalist - Miyagi University’s very own campus ‘Green Thumb.’ One day Hinata Shōyō who happens to be a close friend of Yn, invites them to come to one of his races. The only problem is that this race of his, is illegal. Read the journey of Yn who has been sucked into the world of illegal street racing with the one goal: to create an eco-friendly race car.

Masterlist

WC: 1.1K

The Diner

After meeting your team you all exchange numbers with each other. ‘So Yn, you’re the environmentalist. Any ideas on how we could create such a car?’

You hum as you tap your chin with your finger, ‘well there's battery powered cars like Teslas - they use large lithium ion batteries and have to be charged when the battery gets low. This would be an expensive approa- no, scratch that. This whole project is going to be incredibly expensive, but putting that aside there's also solar power.’ 

Before you could say the next option, you see Nishinoya’s face light up as he recalls some information about solar powered cars, ‘oh! A couple years ago some dudes made a solar powered car and it actually worked! But the only downside is that it was super tiny and only went like, oh i don't know, sixty kilometres an hour?’

‘The last option I can think of is using hydrogen to power lithium ion batteries. So essentially the same method that Tesla uses but instead of using electricity to power the car we use hydrogen.’

At the mention of hydrogen Yachi perks up and says, ‘come to think of it, I actually saw an article regarding hydrogen powered cars. I can’t remember but I can look into it.’

You smile at Yachi, ‘thanks, that’ll be a big help.’ 

‘Hmm what will be a big help? Is Karasuno planning on doing something… oh how do I put it? Out of the ordinary?’ You turn your head so fast you hear an unwelcome crack with some excruciating pain following. ‘Oh it's you, the new extra or whatever that’s working with Karasuno. Well aren't you getting in the wars? First you trip over yourself in front of me - how embarrassing might I add, and now you pull a nerve or something in your neck, once again, in front of me. Do I startle you that much darling?’ 

You snarl in response while holding onto your neck, ‘it’s not that you startle me, it's more that you sneak up and invite yourself into conversations that clearly don't involve you. Oh and by the way, you bumped into me, I did not trip.’

Oikawa chuckles, ‘darling, you do know what startling is right? Or does my beauty stop that brain of yours from thinking straight?’

‘Oi! Shittykawa!’ 

You look behind Oikawa and see someone racing towards him. It was hard to tell in the diner’s lighting but the person almost sounded exactly like someone else you know - or used to know. 

Oikawa starts stuttering out a weak ‘Iwa-pooh’ before he’s hit over the head by… Iwaizumi Hajime? 

‘Hey guys, sorry that he’s bothering you,’ he is looking at Ennoshita while apologising so you use this to your advantage and take a look at him. Sure enough it was the Iwaizumi Hajime you grew up with, no wonder his name sounded so familiar. A small smile makes it way across your face as you admire your old neighbour. 

‘Oh Yn is that you?’ Iwaizumi is now staring at you, a surprised smile resting on his lips. You were caught, red handed, staring at him. 

‘Yep, it's me! I’m Yn! Hahaha! How have you been Iwa?’ You mentally curse yourself out for being so obvious, now he definitely knows that you were checking him out. Little did you know, he too was in the midst of checking you out. 

‘I’ve been uh, pretty good. So you're in the racing scene now?’ His words were stiff and unnatural, you couldn’t blame him - the two of you lost contact after you went to Tokyo for high school. 

You look up and make eye contact, yeah he was as pretty as ever. ‘I’m working as an extra in Karasuno.’

He lets out a low hum, ‘I see, well good luck. Let’s hope our paths cross again yeah?’ You nod, unable to actually form a proper sentence. Iwaizumi turns away and pulls Oikawa with him. You sigh as you watch him retreat to the other side of the diner, presumably where the rest of Seijoh was. When you turn back to face your teammates, you are met with wide eyes and gaping mouths. 

‘Excuse me Yn, but how the hell do you know Iwaizumi of Seijoh?’ You giggle a little at Nishinoya’s dramatic tone. 

‘We were neighbours for fifteen years before I moved to a boarding school.’

‘Ohoho? Do you know what he was like?’

You send a playful glare towards Nishinoya, ‘how about another time? I want to get to know you all a bit better and get working on the car yeah?’

‘That’s a good idea,’ says Ennoshita, ‘when are you all free to catch up during the day? It’s one in the morning and my brain is not functioning properly.’ 

‘I’m free tomorrow after 11. I’m on break in two weeks as well!’

‘Nice to know Yn! I’m free as well tomorrow, and yeah same here, my uni is on break in two. What about you Yachi, Noya and Asahi?’

‘I’m free after 1 tomorrow and then we have the holidays in two weeks!’ Says Yachi.

‘I can’t do tomorrow but why don't you all start making plans and ideas?’

‘I’ll be there, and don’t you worry Asahi! You won’t miss out on anything!’

✄.

‘Hey Yn! Are you ready to head home?’ Shouyou calls out from his table.

‘Yeah I’m ready when you are!’

Shouyou walks over to you, ‘well let’s get going. We both have some afternoon classes tomorrow and it’s about two-thirty right now,’ he chuckles. The two of you say your goodbyes to the Karasuno crew - of course Shōyō was familiar with many others outside of the crew so you patiently wait for him to finish making his rounds.

✄.

The hum of the car was enough to lull you to sleep, you were tired and you wanted to go home and start drafting ideas for the eco-car but you knew that your excitement could wait until morning - if you could even get out of bed in the morning. 

‘Hey Yn,’ Shouyou softly calls, ‘we’re here, want me to walk you up?’ you lazily rub your eyes and look at him. ‘You fell asleep…’ you let out an incoherent sound and you felt your eyes droop. Before your mind fell into darkness, Shoyo let out a soft chuckle.

Shouyou turns to you and puts his palm on your face, ‘you fell asleep again… well, that’s no surprise. you’ve had a big night.’ 

✄.

When you wake up in the morning you feel sweaty and uncomfortable. You find out why when you pull the covers off of your body - you were in your clothes from last night. You smile to yourself and mumble out a small ‘thanks Shouyou’ before you roll out of bed and get ready for the day ahead of you.

taglist:  @dadchi-oya @cutepet09