#i ended up doing my gym credit my senior year

[maxellminidisc]

Having to learn and dance the two step in high school gym for like two werks was genuinely the most excruciating unit of that fucking class, it even tops rock climbing and taking an F for the day cause I'm dead scared of heights so bad I told the teacher to fuck off LMAO

[cinematicnomad]

this is incredibly random but my best friend just texted me something which reminded me that for a brief shining moment in our senior year there was a genuine concern that i wouldn't graduate on time bc of fucking P.E.

[crowsandturtlesandbatsohmy]

Haikyu!! Season 3

As always, my thoughts are under the cut.

OH MY GOSH I THINK THAT HAS TO BE MY FAVORITE SEASON YET!!! AAAAHHHHH!!!!!!

Okay. Okay. Breathing. Let me go over my thoughts.

Let’s start with the opening and ending. WOW!!!! This is definitely my favorite opening so far. It was so intense and so beautiful and it was the perfect representation of this season! That scene where Hinata is spiking and it turns into a crow flying with the sun in the background is just gorgeous and made my eyes teary <3 In the same vein, the ending is my favorite ending. I love how chill and laid-back it is, a much needed breather before jumping into the next episode or transitioning into doing something else. ALSO ALL THE BOYS ARE HERE!!! AAAHH! I was stoked to see all the teams we’ve played against with all their players! It made me so so happy! Two things in particular that I just could not get over every time I watched the ending credits (which was nearly every time, unless I needed that time to process or Netflix automatically skipped before I could tell it not to): 1. Nishinoya was flying. 2. OIKAWA. They did an AMAZING job on him because I could visualize him walking to the beat of the music just off of that one frozen pose. I could see his little nonchalant strut even though he wasn’t moving, and I was just continuously blown away by that.

Okay, moving on to the actual show itself.

LITTLE THINGS THAT I LOVED:

• OUR BOYS FINALLY GOT THE CHEERING SECTION THEY DESERVE!!! I nearly teared up at this. I’ve always been so upset that the other teams have all these people cheering for them and our boys don’t. Not that the people we do have aren’t doing a good job or aren’t special, because they are, but the boys deserve to have a cheering section just like everybody else. They’ve worked SO HARD. • I loved how all the boys had their own special high-fives with Kiyoko, Ukai, and Takeda! That was so sweet :) • TAKEDA GETTING THE RECOGNITION HE DESERVES! • Suga getting more and more unhinged • Daichi got to spike! • Saeko calling Hinata “Shoyo” • Suga, to Kageyama: *doing adorable little jumps* “If you’re exhausted I can switch with you at anytime!” • BABY SENIORS!!!! (I know they’re only first years there but shhhh) BABY SENIORS!!!!! AAAAAHHHH!!!! They’re so cute!!!! • SUGA CAN SPIKE!? HECK YEAH!!

NOT-SO-LITTLE THING THAT I LOVED:

Oikawa and Iwaizumi coming to see the match. Aside from the fact that they were both rocking their casual clothes, I loved their commentary on the game! Their analyses were really neat, and I loved getting to see them one more time, especially together! I love their dynamic. Also Oikawa shooing Iwaizumi out of the gym saying “I’d rather die than see the awards ceremony” made me cackle.

PEOPLE I WANT TO TALK ABOUT A LITTLE MORE IN-DEPTH:

Starting with…

My boy <3 I will readily admit to being worried about him pretty much through the whole season. When he had trouble with that receive right at the end of episode 1 and I saw the look on his face, I started panicking. And then the above gif happened and I was overcome with relief, because that little smirk told me he was going to be fine. Except he kept struggling, and he was getting frustrated, and I kept worrying because A) He’s my favorite and I’m very emotionally attached, so watching him struggle (mentally) would’ve hurt (worse), and B) I knew that if he got stuck in his head there would’ve been no way we could’ve won. That’s not a dig at the rest of the team, and that’s not my favoritism talking. The team needs Noya to be on his A-game mentally and physically because he’s their safety net. I wasn’t sure what to make of his “the only one equal to Ushijima is me” at first, but then Tsukki agreed (and I think Ukai did too) and Noya reminded me that he can back up that claim. HIS SAVE IN EPISODE 9 WAS AMAZING!!!! I adore his relationships with the first years, but especially with Tsukki and Hinata. His dynamic with Tsukki really got to shine this season and I loved it!! And of course I’ll always love the shorty duo and the fact that Noya calls Hinata by his first name. Last thing I want to say before I move on: I said I was worried about him pretty much all throughout this season. Truth be told, I still am. You wanna know why? Because of this line right here from episode 5: “I can’t let us keep losing.” It immediately stood out to me and set off my alarm bells. He’s trying to carry the weight of the end results by himself. THAT’S SO MUCH PRESSURE! And I think the other part that concerns me is that it sounds so reminiscent of the line of thinking that eventually led to Asahi quitting after the match with Date Tech. Am I worried Noya will quit? No. Am I worried that he’s going to hit a wall and have a really hard time because he’s still putting so much pressure on himself? Absolutely. Time will tell, but I hope I’m wrong.

I love Tanaka so so much. I don’t have very much to say but I wanted to talk about him a little bit. First: TANAKA GOT SOME AWESOME SPIKES IN!! He’d better be the ace after the seniors graduate! He’d be so good in that role! Second: A moment of appreciation for Tanaka getting smacked in the face with the ball, knocked to the floor, hopping up, and going “yeah I totally meant for that to happen, that was my plan all along!” Third, and the main thing I wanted to talk about: Tanaka and the first years. I love how even though he doesn’t have a biological younger sibling he is such an older brother. He loves being someone they can look up to and come to for help, he loves teasing them and messing with them, and he’s so proud of them when they succeed! His proud little smile when Ukai’s talking to Tsukki about being the mvp, him supporting Hinata during a block, his haiku! Even more than his relationship with the first years in general though, I love his relationship with Hinata and Kageyama. I love that in season 1 he basically looked at them and went “is anybody gonna adopt those two?” and ignored everyone who answered. I love that he’s the one who got them to Tokyo, how he ruffles Hinata’s hair, that he’s the one who got Kageyama to start high-fiving people. And I love how when all was said and done with this match, it was the two of them he hugged. I just love how much Tanaka loves, okay? He’s got such a big heart even if he hides it behind an attempt at an edgy exterior.

We interrupt our compilation of Karasuno focused thoughts to bring in the one character from Shiratorizawa I really want to talk about…

Yep. That’s right. We’re gonna talk about Tendo. Okay, from the minute he appeared on screen something about his vibes and facial expressions made me incredibly uncomfortable. I disliked him on principle as a result. Him blocking Hinata and being smug irritated me, but more than anything at this point something about him just made uncomfortable. I can’t even tell you what it was because I don’t exactly know. Something in the way he carries himself and in the faces he makes. Then Yamaguchi finally got swapped in, and then immediately got swapped out, and Tendo sang a song about it deliberately loud enough for Yamaguchi to hear and THAT was it for me. No more “you’re irritating.” No more “you make me uncomfortable.” It was now 100% “I hate you.” I hated him more than I ever hated Oikawa (the only other character I used that word for). And then we got backstory on his past in volleyball. And I saw him being outcast because he was “the weird kid” and I guess maybe that kinda hit a little close to home even if it didn’t register as I was watching. Because I immediately felt sympathy for him and that combined with his dynamic with Ushijima was enough to change how I looked at him. Was I still mad about Yamaguchi? Yeah. But I couldn’t look at Tendo anymore without seeing someone who’d finally found his people and his place doing something he loves after being “the weird kid nobody wants to hang out with”. His dynamic with Ushijima, the fact that they’re actually friends?? So endearing. So yeah. I like Tendo now that I’ve gotten to know him!

Back to our regularly scheduled Karasuno…

Tsukki.

He’s grown SO MUCH!!! AAAAAHHHH!!! I’M SO PROUD OF HIM!!!!!! Okay so first the entire “oh look, it’s the normal guy” “Hi I’m the normal guy” exchange was gold! And when Tendo was talking about how much Tsukki was irritating him and Tsukki’s just like “Thanks! :D” I kid you not it’s in my notes as being the thing that made me love Tsukki. Honestly the amount (6) of “YES TSUKKI, GET HIM!!!”s in my notes is self-explanatory to my thoughts. So I’ll talk about the other notes I made on him :) HE DID IT!!! HE BLOCKED!!! And he got to start leading the timing on the blocking and IT WORKED!!!! HE’S IN!!! HE’S FINALLY ALL IN!!!!!! AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!! Oh, I’m so proud!!! I love how when he got pulled out of the game he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay. He’s come so far from “it’s just a club” I think you should know that the only thing from episode 8 I found important enough to make a note about was, and I quote, “TSUKKI IS BACK!!!” And I LOVE how in episode 9 he went right to Ukai and was like basically like “Put me back in the game right now” but in Tsukki language. I love that Noya and Yamaguchi both ran straight for Tsukki after the win! And he didn’t really fight them on it! AND THEN UKAI CALLING HIM THE MVP!! AND TANAKA AGREEING!!!

Tsukki has changed so much and I absolutely love him now :)

Alright, post-win details I want to talk about:

• THE SENIORS HUGGING AND BREAKING DOWN TOGETHER!!! AH MY BOYS! <3 • Noya and Kageyama dragging Hinata to go line up XD • Yamaguchi yelling some sense into Tsukki!!! That made me so happy and so proud of Yamaguchi!! • SUGA GOT TO HOLD THE TROPHY!!!!

I loved this season SO SO MUCH!!! There’s more I could say, but I’d be here all day XD like last time, if there’s anything I didn’t talk about that you want my opinion on, feel free to ask!

[neo-shitty]

ending credits — l.hs

excerpt. “i remember you again in the dim light, i believed we could do it together.” — taeyeon, ending credits. | requested by @/koishua for my 1k milestone event

pairings. lee heeseung x gender neutral reader

genre. angst, high school!au, student council!au, exes to ???!au

warnings. swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, unedited.

word count. 3.2k (i think this is way past headcanon wc, but it’s still in that format so??)

notes. yeah what the heck happened to keeping this under 1k? HAHA i got carried away. i love the song! thank you so much for requesting vienna! i’m sorry if it’s not my best, i’m feeling a bit rusty. e.e

You were never one to go out so when Jay, your bestfriend of lo so many years, invites you to revisit your high school for its founding anniversary celebration, your first thought was to say ‘no’. 

But you just finished your midterms exams and you happened to find a 3-day vacancy where there was completely nothing in your itinerary save for grocery shopping. So you decide to go.

It will be fun, Jay said when he picked you up. It will be fun, he said at the gate when you muttered that you wanted to back out last minute. It will be fun, he says as he's swept away from your side by a previous classmate whose name you could no longer remember. And that’s the last you see of the him for the rest of the night.

But you had other reasons to be here. The current student council students who organized the event, your previous junior colleagues, invited you over. While you wanted to show up, you couldn’t find them in the crowd gathered at the school gym. 

You were never one to be in huge crowds but there was enough familiar faces in the crowd for it to not be all that suffocating. You caught up with a few, exchanging ‘hello how are you?’s over the speakers. It got dizzying in the end, so you decide to leave the overcrowded gym and walk around on your own for a breath of fresh air. 

The campus seemed smaller now that you weren’t studying there anymore. Classrooms were devoid of their usual ruckus, the library even more silent without the humming of the A/C to fill in its empty air. They were right when they said schools seemed warped out of its daylight setting. 

The halls were dark and quiet, a stark difference to what you were used to back in the day. But you could recall working overtime back in the day, dragging your feet across the same halls after a meeting with people you gathered and later walked out of out of frustration. Dramatic and abso-fucking-lutely cringey.

You find yourself on the second level and the nostalgia floods in waves as you wade across the hall where the student council’s office was located. Its wooden door remained the same, not that there was much time in between today and your last visit. It hasn’t been over a year since you graduated.

There was an urge to reach out, grab the knob and peruse the office even when you knew it would carry little to no resemblance to the office you were used to. There’d be new things now; mountains of storage boxes where your stuff would be pushed aside and left to collect dust.

And you almost reach the door when it swings open.

“_____?!” Nishimura Riki is taller now than he used to be. He was one of the junior volunteers in the council and despite his mischievous nature, he now served as vice president. He stares down at you, wide-eyed with his jaw-hanging like the hinges that kept it close no longer served its purpose. “What are you doing out here?! Come in! How long have you been there?! You should’ve knocked!”

When you came in, the party was in full swing in the most sophisticated manner. While everyone was raving back at the gym like the teenagers they were, the council room was muted — conversations shared over light meals and light drinks. There were seniors from batches ago and you bowed at each one as you passed. They were years older, some with degrees to their name already. 

Yang Jungwon, current council president, stood in the midst of it all. He flew around like a bee in a garden, keeping up with everyone and entertaining one guest after the other until he finally reached you. He ushers you to the other officers from your batch.

It’s a warm catch up and you don’t realize that it had been so long since you’ve been in the company of familiar people that you found yourself not wanting to leave. You’ve spent the entirety of your first year of college adjusting to the new environment that you’ve forgotten to keep in touch with your past. But they welcome you just as they would’ve if you kept close contact. 

The crowd dwindles slowly and that’s how you know you arrived later than most of the guests. Your seniors announced their leave, leaving only members from younger batches — people you knew and came across back when you still studied here. You knew he was there right as you entered because you catch him in your periphery. Jungwon drags you away quickly enough, delaying Riki’s attempts to tease you. But the room was more empty now, the remaining population just about enough to fill in every seat around the oval. 

Heeseung is unavoidable now. He sits at the opposite side of the table, flanked with officers from his own batch. You sat with your own members and now it seemed like Jungwon’s batch officers were the sole things keeping a full fight from breaking out. But there was no bad blood to spark a fight on, just a heavy awkwardness that couldn’t quite be extinguished.

Heeseung was still quiet, only speaking whenever he felt that he was obligated to add a token or two into the conversation. He’d always been that kind of president except when he was presiding over meetings. Cool, calm, and collected; even at the face of all the backlash he received after winning the elections claiming that he wasn’t cut out for the job. He was. It just didn’t seem like it but he had the credentials to prove it. And he spent the rest of his term proving everyone wrong.

Then Riki bursts out from two seats away. “Heeseung, why won’t you say ‘hi’ to _____?” And you debate whether hitting him would we worth the effort to get up from your seat and walk over to where he sat.

It isn’t, so instead you close your eyes and repeat your calming mantra. When you peer your eyes open again, you find yourself staring across the room. Heeseung finally catches your eye for the first (and you hoped to be the last) time that night. 

You wonder how he could be so calm about it because his eyes aren’t as frantic as yours. He’s staring straight at you as if he’d waited and practiced long enough he nails it immediately. There’s no awkwardness in the way he looks at you, just the familiarity of an old friend after not seeing them in so long. 

Your heart leaps to your throat and you bow your head to shield yourself from them catching on how flustered the bit of eye-contact made you. He raises a hand, waving, before the conversation carries on as if nothing had ensued. 

But you stayed there, in that moment before you broke the stare. His small smile and the glint of dark eyes as they looked at you. And you remember seeing him for the first time when his council met the juniors who volunteered to be council aides. His warm welcome, his praise for your proposals, his cheerful reception. You hadn’t thought much of it until you started talking beyond meetings, staying in contact long after council-organized events concluded.

It wasn’t until mid-year that it became something official. The thing you had going on confined to the council room, to drive thrus after overtimes at school when you had event preparations to finish. And maybe you were once a fool to think that good things like those would last forever, the way everyone is naive the first time they fall in love. 

He watched as you took over the council during the year-end elections and you watched him go with a smile when he graduated. Free from scrutiny now, you spent his summer before university together — never wasting a single drop of daylight. Even when you were clipped between school year preparations as the new head, he was willing to extend a helping hand. That summer was everything. Park picnics, dates after dark, drives down empty highways. Every day felt never-ending, an endless loop on repeat. Until it wasn’t.

You thought you’d withstand the test of distance when he moved away for university. But the chances blurred sooner than you expected. Heeseung was out more in college parties or busy with mountains of school work. You were preoccupied with balancing council workload along with studyingo for the SATs that determined your future. It was easy to pick which bore more weight to you — an extra asset in the form of a person who no longer brought you the comfort he once used to or the pass or file exam that decided your fate.

Ultimately, you ended up agreeing that you were both living different lives now even when neither of you wanted to admit it. You couldn’t go on weeks without having a petty fight over things you could easily communicate over. Heeseung always seemed too preoccupied despite appearing free and you were barely ever in the mood to talk over anything without snowballing it into a bigger issue.

Then you told him it wasn’t working anymore. Instead of fighting for what you had, he just agreed. And that’s how you turned to key, loosened the shackles and let him go. 

Even then, you didn’t have the time to mull over it. There were college entrance tests, final examinations, council president obligations and an accumulation of more day-to-day problems like classes to catch up on and quizzes to study for. You simply had no time to think about it until it all came crashing down on you one day — the realization that you needed something, someone, to lean on after all.

Someone to tell you to stop when you’re overworking yourself to the point of a burn out, to drag you out of the miserable hole you’ve dug yourself into, to treat you to coffee and a free embrace. You missed him, a lot more than you thought you did. You allow yourself a week to mull over what you lost but it’s soon replaced with the rage fuelled by unfairness that Heeseung had you at his lowest but he wasn’t there for yours.

But even then, you don’t hold it against him. Relationships were two-way things and you both carried the weight of the whole thing ending the way it did. At some point, you stopped aligning — parallels splitting off and going separate ways. It was good while it lasted, but it’s over now.

He was hard to erase but you managed. Dissociating him from the places you’ve been together, taking off photos you’ve posted online, filing everything away where you couldn’t reach them. And you’re feeling better.

You get into a different university because you scored higher than what you aimed for. You’re doing well and as the days pass, he stops making reappearances in your mind. You’ve stopped feeling bitter towards him.

Until you see him again in the flesh, this close, across the room. And it’s getting harder to breathe by the second but you stay because there’s so much to say, not enough guts to do so. You want to ask how he’s been but you chicken out every time.

One by one, the others leave but you stay behind to help Jungwon and the others clean up for the sake of nostalgia. "_____, you really don’t have to help us,” he says, tugging at the broom you gripped in your hand.

Before you could reassure him it’s fine, someone else’s voice booms from across the room. “It’s pointless, kid. That head’s rock solid. Just let _____ be.” And it’s his first real acknowledgement of you that he does out of his own volition. He knows you well enough that you wouldn’t let someone else do the work you offered to do for you. It happened a lot between you and Heeseung back when you still worked together.

Jungwon’s attention was elsewhere now because the next time you looked he’s marching across the room, grabbing at the trash bags Heeseung was carrying. “We’ll do the cleaning! You don’t have to help us!"

But he loses against the both of you and you all end up cleaning the little room together. And you get everything done in half the time with two more people to work with. And Jay still hasn’t replied. You’ve begun your spam of messages when Riki set you up with the little ‘hi’ thing. It’s been well over an hour now and your messages were still undelivered. 

You leave the office with a mere nod of your head towards Heeseung and an enthusiastic goodbye to the two other boys left in the room. The campus is quieter now with the curfew closing in. The gym was quiet now, the party dead. Knowing high schoolers, they just moved somewhere to hangout until the sun comes up or maybe drink even when they still weren’t allowed to. At this point, it was out of your jurisdiction.

You ring Jay two more times before the other eventually caught up to you, half-embarrassed that they found out your little escape lie to save yourself from further awkwardness. Jungwon and Riki reappear at the lobby with Heeseung trailing behind them on his phone. 

“Your ride isn’t here yet?” Jungwon asks.

“I think Jay is blackout drunk now. I’m taking a taxi home.”

“This late?” Even the duos heads turn when Heeseung speaks behind them. “I’ll drive you.” And you stare in disbelief as he passes by you, walking over to his car parked at an area reserved for important personnel. You snicker at the set up.

You walk over to the back seat only to find Riki staring up with a smug grin on his face. “Do you want to make him look like a taxi driver?”

Heeseung looks over his shoulder, glancing at the younger boy then at you before nodding — agreeing that you could take the front seat. You make sure to slam the back door.

The car smells the same, worn-out leather and citrus air. The seatbelt still malfunctioned when you tried to strap yourself in and just as Heeseung tries to reach over to help you, your hand remembers what your mind no longer did. It buckles.

It’s a silent ride until Riki warms up the atmosphere, asking curious questions about life in university, the option available, the pros and cons of picking the dorms or a separate apartment. 

You remind him to worry about hit SATs first. It’s enough to shut him up.

But it’s over when you drop Riki off at his apartment then Jungwon about a block or two later. Then it was just you and Heeseung left, the moment you’ve dreaded the most.

You lived on opposite sides of the same city and you hated how he had to drive far just to take you home but it was too late to mull over it now. 

"You didn’t need to do this, you know.”

“I know,” he answers. “I’m sorry but I just don’t want you walking around alone at night.” He trails off but he later asks, “How have you been?”

How have you been? After the break up? These past few months? This week? There were too many emotions and too much time in between to ever encompass what you wanted to say in a short answer. 

“I’m doing okay. Got a break so I got to come. How about you?”

“Likewise. School’s getting more hectic but I managed to squeeze this in. If you don’t want to talk we can,” he pauses, “stay quiet for the rest of the ride.”

You shake your head but you’re unsure if he sees it. “No, it’s alright. I just don’t know what to say.”

“But I do.” You look over at him, watching his face vanish into darkness then come to light whenever you pass a streetlight. “I’m sorry.”

Too late. Long overdue. But he says it anyway.

“For what?”

“Everything.” The car hums beneath your feet. “For leaving during such a time in your life. For not prioritizing us. For not fighting for us. For treating you less than you deserved. I’m sorry.”

You’ve longed to hear those words for so long but you don’t know how to react when you finally hear it. But he doesn’t ask you to say anything in reply, the rest of the ride wrapped in an uneasy silence. Your heart felt lightweight in your chest, the tendrils of a long grudge undoing itself. 

Heeseung slows as he approaches your neighborhood. Everything you wanted to say fizzles out before you managed to say anything. There was nothing left to be said, you felt empty. 

Your planned outburst carried just as much worthlessness as his apology did. It won’t undo anything anymore. There would always be time lost, damage done, wounds inflicted. 

“It’s okay.” You tell him, because for the first time in the past year it finally is. What you wanted to say would be nothing but sharp blades meant to cut through already closing wounds. The skin has healed, only the scars have remained. It doesn’t hurt anymore.

He stops by your sidewalk and the car windows have fogged up completely now but the atmosphere between you and him feels warm. The moment is bittersweet but it eases a weight of your soldiers.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for all the problems I caused back in the day.” You reassure him again, sneaking in your own apology for amends unmade. But he reassures you there was nothing he regretted from the relationship except the end but you weren’t supposed to look at relationships like that. And that’s exactly why you didn’t work out.

As you walk up the driveway you’re more relieved he tied a knot to your loose ends. You turn when you reach your doorstep, staring at his unmoving car. A part of you thinks he still has something else to say when he lowers his window. 

“What are you waiting for?” he shouts, shoo-ing you with his hand.

“For you to drive off!”

You hear his laugh across the quiet air of the night. And you realize that you were the one falling out of routine because you always shut the front door before he honked twice and drove off. So that’s exactly what you did after yelling at him to drive safe.

You walk in only to walk out, watching as his car drove off down the empty street. It’s bittersweet how this could be the last time you’ll meet and it ended so abruptly. You think this could be the end of out of the blue catch ups or birthday and holiday greetings because you catch a glimpse of his phone and its lockscreen is a photo of him and a girl you don’t recognize.

And it’s okay because your heart no longer yearns for him, no longer hold on to final string of attachment keeping you both tethered to the idea of a possible rekindling. It takes you a while for you to step back in, even long after he’d disappeared down a different street.

You’ve reached the end of the line. This is where the story reaches its end, where the end credits begin to roll, where the curtains are free from their ties brushing against each other on the center of the stage. The end.

And when the next part of your life begins, he’ll no longer be wedged in the pages but a mere dedication to a piece of the past you have now left behind. 

© neo-shitty, 2022

[gisachi]

Hi ^^ I know that your requests are now closed but I was thinking that, given you have written jealous Shinichi, I would very much enjoy some jealous Ran! Maybe you can mix it with one of the prompts? Just throwing the idea out there, no pressure. Delete this if you don't feel like it, it's okay really. Thank you for writing these amazing fics, the shinran fandom is in your debt. ❤️

So this is the last (!!!) and longest (!!!) of the kiss prompts, and I dedicate it to multiple-requests Anon and to this Anon. I hope both of you still see this. It took me a while. ^^;;

P.S. Special thanks to @artycreaty for keeping this in check. You are awesome. 🥰

41. Kisses shared under an umbrella. 46. A lingering kiss before a long trip apart. (6,489 words)

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Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.

She has hundreds of reasons not to. They’re merely childhood best friends. Life would be much easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven. Shinichi absolutely doesn’t look at her that way. And so forth.

She wonders why they’re even friends in the first place. If their parents hadn’t enrolled them in the same kindergarten, she was certain they wouldn’t even be on speaking terms. He lives in a world of grisly books and crimes, she in a world of martial and visual arts. Their hobbies don’t overlap. They excel in different fields. They enter the same university with completely unrelated majors. The only bond they have in common is their shared history. Literally bonded since they were four, until now at nineteen.

So when she sees him all jolly around his newfound circle who hold the same interest in Holmes or detective work, it shouldn’t surprise her as much. It’s part of university life, it’s normal, they expand their horizons, and Ran understands that it hits much differently when they bond with people who like the same stuff they do. Something she’s aware they cannot share a hundred percent.

She’s proud of him, and she absolutely has no right to feel jealous, especially when she sees him around taller, prettier, more interesting women from his course block. There is no reason for her to look away with a heavy weight in her chest everytime the women get giggly and touchy while he’s absorbed in narrating his stories.

Everytime she does, she reminds herself of how he didn’t seem to mind when she was casted as the protagonist of their high school play and the leading man was the handsome Araide-sensei. Or how he simply shrugged when she fawned over the brother of a classmate because he looked so much like the karate senpai she was crushing on. Or when she secretly caught Sonoko dragging the detective behind gym after P.E. to confront him about his opinion regarding an upperclassman courting Ran and his only response was, ‘She can like whoever she likes, Sonoko. I’m not her boyfriend.’

He never showed her any sign of jealousy, therefore he must not be into her. Simple as that. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him differently. Getting snarky just because he received sixteen new fan mails again, more now that they’re in uni, and two even coming from the popular criminology seniors he is often teased to? Or ignoring him unprecedentedly just because his eyes followed the back of a woman with long chestnut hair and voluptuous curves? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s bound to be attracted to someone else. This is a pill she ought to learn to swallow eventually.

Eventually.

“Shinichi-kun, you never told us about your scariest case yet, tell us about it?”

Kaori closes her notes and so do the other two girls across her, and Shinichi’s eyes twinkle. He truly seems to enjoy study sessions with the little group they made consisting of some of his and Ran’s coursemates because they love listening to his stories.

“At the top of my head is this murderer disguised as a bandaged man, and he targeted us one by one…” and so the detective drones. Ran pauses typing and reminisces quietly. Ah, that one from summer three years ago. I was almost injured by that crazy man during my sleep but Shinichi woke me up in time.

“Ran-san,” Shun, her friend and coursemate, mutters beside her, also stopping his typing to listen to the detective’s story. “It’s ridiculous how popular Kudou-kun is with the girls. He’s full of wild adventures.”

“Yes, he is,” Ran says, smiling. “He’s been a girl magnet ever since high school.”

She watches as Kaori inches closer to Shinichi, listening attentively, chin on her palm and flirtatious smile on her lips as the detective rants on and on.

For the third time that afternoon, Ran looks away.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.

She does, everyday, but it’s hard when he smiles at her, cares for her, holds her in a way she’s never seen him do for anyone else. It gives her hope every time the girls cling to him but he never touches them back, whereas he automatically slings his arm over her shoulder because she’s afraid or cold or he simply feels like it.

Then again, maybe she’s giving herself too much credit. Perhaps it’s a free pass for being around him for too long. She even gets to spend time with him during weekends and holidays. It isn’t special because it’s normal.

And that’s all she’ll ever be, a normal girl in his eyes.

“Ran? She’s pretty special.”

Ran reacts to the mention of her name and catches Shinichi looking at her. “She appears quiet but she can kick anyone’s ass without breaking a sweat. It’s bad if you cross her,” Shinichi gloats with a grin.

“Oh my god, really? We can bring her with us then!” Kaori claps her hands in excitement.

“Ah... But she won’t like that,” he follows up, wary. Ran has missed the topic they were talking about and now she’s curious.

“But ghosts aren’t real and Mouri-san can give them a good beating!”

“Gh-Ghosts?” The color in her cheeks drains, eyes freezing at Shinichi who has probably already expected that reaction, for he sports that same look of concern as those times he had expressed whenever she joined him in his way-past-bedtime elementary school adventures.

“We’ll investigate an abandoned house I always pass by walking home,” Kaori explains. “Last night I saw a faint cigarette light at the second floor window. It might be a fugitive or a homeless person or a ghost, who knows?”

“You don’t need to come if you don’t want to, Ran,” Shinichi assures.

Gulping, Ran contemplates whether going with them will do her any good. It’s a nice change, it’s been a while since she last tagged with Shinichi in his cases. But she isn’t exactly proud of shrieking like a little kid in front of serious criminology majors who may feel like she’ll drag their covert investigation down if she joins.

“...I’ll pass,” she answers meekly, and his coursemates sulk except Shinichi, who offers her a smile of understanding.

“Man, I thought we’ll be able to see Mouri-san in action!”

“That’s ok, maybe next time. We still have Shinichi-kun!”

“Shinichi-kun will protect us, ne?”

“Hah. Right. Invite Hakuba too, use him.”

“Oh c’mooon, Shinichi-kun!”

Ran closes her eyes, struggling to zone their voices out.

In her silence, Ran ponders if she has made a wrong choice.

.

.

Ran has no right to be jealous. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him this way.

The following weekend, Shinichi narrates what happened in their late-night investigation. Hakuba wasn’t there so Shinichi was the only available guy as usual. Ran refuses to hear any more details, both of the haunted house and secretly of the girls chancing onto him during the investigation. Shinichi is puzzled.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Nah, just swamped with work.”

“On a Sunday?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to assist?”

“No.”

Her replies are curt from the couch of his house, not looking at Shinichi on the other end as she mindlessly cleans up her digital sketches. She hates how snappy she sounds but her brain is too absorbed with conjuring spiteful imaginations to even think of masking her annoyance.

“Ran, hey. Look at me.”

His low voice freezes her from drawing, and she slowly looks up to meet Shinichi’s serious eyes.

When this happens, she knows he’s reading her. She inwardly chants a prayer because now isn’t a good time. Whatever time isn’t a good time. She doesn’t know what to say when she’s aware everything she’s been feeling is irrational and unfair. She’s being selfish.

“You’re… stressed.”

“No, I’m… Eh?”

He scoots closer, an arm’s length away. “Your dark circles are more prominent now, you need a break.” His eyes turn a soft blue. “Let’s have dinner out? My treat.”

Ran is surprised, to say the least. The last time he invited her out was two weeks ago. She’s become so used to seeing him around others that any initiative from him sounds too good to be true.

“But I need to finish this project by tonight.”

“Let’s have food delivery then!” Shinichi announces, not rattled by Ran’s indirect refusal. “I know exactly what you want. Ramen and shaved ice.”

Her eyes thin at the absurdly goofy expression she knows he makes when he’s being mischievous. “Clearly you’re ordering that ramen for yourself. I only like shaved ice.”

“Damn! Miss Detective gets it.” A mile-wide grin stretches across his face, earning an eye roll from the half-smiling woman. “Let’s eat together on your short break, please?”

He leans within a respectful distance and she sees his smile better, pair of kind eyes locking with her overworked ones. “It’s been a while.”

Her heart throbs for him. So much.

She caves - of course she does - and breathes her acquiescence.

After two long weeks, they have dinner together, just them and Shinichi’s ramen and Ran’s donburi and shaved ice, Shinichi taking a spoonful of dessert from the cup when she isn’t looking and Ran snatching a slurp from his take-out bowl and laughing when he catches her.

With how heartfelt his laughter is in her presence devoid of any mysteries, Ran knows she’s probably giving herself too much credit, but for once she wants to believe she is the cause of why Shinichi’s happy.

Just for that night, she gives it to herself.

She’ll change the dark colors of her digital artwork to brighter ones after they eat.

.

.

Despite everything, Ran finds it difficult to contain her recurring jealousy.

The more she shares precious time with him, the more it gets harder to suppress the selfish emotions. What is so unsatisfying about being the best friend is that she is only the best friend. No more no less. At the end of the day, she isn’t the one he gets to cuddle with, to tease then kiss, to tell ‘I love you’ to, romantically.

“I love you.”

Ran feels her heart about to leap out of her chest.

“But please. Stop. Tearing. The. Cushions!”

The little furball he has scooped underneath a throw pillow wiggle from his grasp. The kitten and detective engage in a brief staring showdown before it jumps away to hide under a farther couch.

Snapping out of reverie, Ran watches her childhood friend slink dejectedly onto the partly scratched furniture. He’s fortunate enough that his mother isn’t around to give him a long lecture on Why Pets Aren’t Allowed in the House 101. She can always take Yukiko-san’s role and reprimand him for it, but as for this and the cat, she finds herself not wanting to intervene.

“Kaori-san sure is taking her time with her parent’s permission. By the time she does, Momo would’ve shredded all the pillows in this house.”

“You named the cat?” Ran asks, amused.

“She did.” He thinks for a moment, then sniggers. “Actually I did. I suggested a random name. She took it.”

Ran merely hums. What can she say? They’re getting close. Close enough to team up as parents to an adopted kitten.

“I’m surprised you also agreed to keep Momo when you never took in animals before.”

“Kaori said she’ll treat me to the latest Detective Samonji movie this weekend if I do. Can’t resist that.”

“Just you two?”

“Yeah.”

A beat. Then he turns to her.

“Wanna join? I can ask her to count you in since you’re kinda helpi—”

“N-no need,” Ran quips, “It’s—It’s fine.”

“No really,” Shinichi insists, “Kaori-san has a lot of money, she—”

“I’m going to Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum with Shun-san this weekend... so... I can’t.”

“Ah.”

Silence.

“It’s, um, for a project,” she bolsters.

“I know.” The faintest smile graces his lips. “It’s your thing. Both of you.”

“Mm.”

He doesn’t say anything else after that.

“Shinichi, you’re a detective, right?” she blurts out of the blue.

“Yeah...and?”

Then deduce what I feel. Here and now.

“Then you’re going to enjoy that movie!” Ran forces a beam, giving Shinichi a thumb of approval. “And you can discuss it with Kaori-san over dinner. I’m sure you two have a lot to say about it.”

Shinichi’s eyes linger on her, reading her like a book, and Ran has her mind reeling again, afraid to be read.

“Yeah, we do,” he finally says, ending the conversation.

Only a few words are uttered the rest of the afternoon.

Momo resurfaces and curls beside Shinichi.

Momo’s purring is loud, but Ran’s shattering heart is louder.

.

.

Ran must not feel jealous. She is not a girlfriend.

Because she isn’t a girlfriend, he’s free to fall for and date anyone else. Who is she to gatekeep him? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s one big catch. Ran believes she’s a big catch, too. With the way she loves dearly, her future boyfriend is going to be very lucky.

Her future boyfriend is not going to be him.

“...mber the required fieldwork in one of my majors I told you? We actually go by batches. The first batch did theirs last month. The second batch was last week… and I— Ran, are you listening?”

“Ah! Yes,” Ran notices they have already reached her station and are now walking two blocks to her apartment. “Your fieldwork, right?”

“...Yeah,” he carries on. “I’m in the last batch... This whole winter break.”

“I see, I understand.” She smiles, getting what he means. No Christmas or New Year’s Eve together. The first time since they’re four. It’s fine, honestly. If it’s a required activity, then there’s really no way to go about it. She isn’t going to lash out just because she can’t be with him in her most favorite time of the year.

“And Hattori-kun and Hakuba-kun will be with you?”

“Hattori did his last month. Hakuba is in the previous batch. I’ll be stuck with the girls.”

Ran’s heart momentarily squeezes. “Where will your fieldwork be?”

“In Akita.”

Her pupils constrict. “That far?”

“Yes... so to cut on expenses, Kaori-san offered her house for me and the others to stay while we’re there—”

Kaori. Again with the tall, beautiful, intelligent Kaori. She bets it’s amazing to spend the holidays doing what he loves and with Kaori beside her, snuggling with him by the fireplace in a romantic snowy night and she might even confess, and it’ll be a great catch for Shinichi, and he’ll return with a girlfriend, and—

“Kaori-san is lucky.” The words flow out of her mouth, unbridled.

Shinichi looks at her. “Lucky?”

Ran remains quiet and keeps walking. It’s dangerous to say anything. She only has one thing in her mind and she doesn’t want to say it out loud. She has no right.

“Ran, hey.”

She doesn’t stop walking.

“Ran.”

She ignores his call.

“Ran… you’re jealous.”

She stops walking.

“Excuse me?”

“...You’re jealous…” Shinichi repeats quietly.

A contrast to his calm tone, his irises beset hers in the cold twilight and Ran attempts to shield herself but her bag and umbrella are in the way. She thinks of turning away but her feet are frigid like icicles, and Shinichi steps closer.

For the third time, he declares, “You’re jealous.”

Hearing her thoughts echo through his words renders her speechless.

It seems to take a moment before Shinichi’s brow arches, lips curl up as his eyes refuse to stray, and she hears a faint exhale even, like he’s exasperated, and suddenly he’s smiling - or is he smirking? sneering? - and...and...

It stings, is her immediate reaction.

For the longest time, she’d wanted him to take a hint. But if she had known this was how he’d react, she’d rather live a life having him oblivious of her emotional struggle. Dealing with that is more tolerable than witnessing him gaze her down in blatant mockery. He sneers as though he’s about to crack a joke and move on and forget such a laughable matter. That’s the last form of acknowledgment she wants for her honest feelings.

Heartbreak and shame and pain build up in her chest like a volcano closing eruption. Water begins to cloud her vision. She clenches her fist tight on her umbrella and Shinichi notices, and he takes another step forward.

“Ran…?”

“I am not, and you’re a fool.”

In a span of a breath, she’s sprinting in the opposite direction, tracing the path where they have walked, ignoring the distant yells of her name behind her. She runs and runs, and as she runs farther, with her thoughts muddy and breath short and dry, she wonders if she may have overreacted.

If he’s done that on purpose, screw him. If not, screw her.

After all, they are merely friends and she has no logical reason to act this way.

“Stop... running... will you!”

She hears heavy footsteps close in. It takes all the energy Ran has to prevent herself from turning her body around but his strong grip overpowers her.

“Let me go!”

“Why are you running?!”

“I can’t...deal with you!”

“Why? Was I right?”

“Right or wrong, it doesn’t matter!”

“Why doesn’t it matter?”

“Because I am your best friend!”

On another occasion, she would’ve successfully jilted away and run farther, but Ran is floored when he yanks her into a one-armed hug, so floored she drops her umbrella to the snowy ground.

“Stop saying that!” he hisses in her ear, frustration apparent.

“What are you— Let me go!”

He hugs her tighter.

“If you don’t let go in three seconds, I will screa—”

“I am happy!”

Ran stops struggling, eyes widening in shock.

Icy huffs tickle her neck as he half shouts, “I’m happy you feel that way!”

“You’re...You’re happy because I’m suffering?”

“What? No! I—”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? How?” The hurt in her tone is impeccable, prattling muffled against his chest as she spares him no moment to butt in. “You think I wanted to feel this? That I enjoy griping in helpless jealousy? And you’re rejoicing that I am? How full of yourself can you be?!”

“That’s not...You don’t underst—”

“I do understand! I understand that I am so incredibly stupid for catching this disgusting heap of emotions for an obnoxious, stuck-up deduction maniac that is my best friend and maybe it’s better after all that he never, ever sees me the way I see him!”

“Stop saying that, Ran!”

She thinks he has broken away, but he drags her back with an insistent tug, crashing his lips onto hers as she stumbles into his arms.

All willpower rippling through her disintegrates quickly like snow in high heat.

An impatient pop resonates as he separates, eyes slowly opening, breath thick and ragged.

“I know that is not how we explain things, but does that explain anything?”

She hears it. The madness. But more than madness, yearning bleeds through his voice so much that her frustration turns into physical pain. Blinded by an all-consuming ache, she tips her chin and presses her lips back against his, demanding for cure in the wrong place. Shinichi freezes, then relaxes. He moves his hand to her nape, four fingers in her hair, thumb treading her jaw.

They look like a scene in a movie.

Under his umbrella and hidden from view, they communicate through brushing lips and tilting heads. His mouth closing over hers with gentle force, her hands splaying across his chest, heavy with something that makes his heart pound under them.

She is so lost in the chase and his tender embrace that for a second she forgets she is kissing her best friend.

Best friend.

This doesn’t explain anything. It worsens it.

She pulls back, ending what she has so recklessly started. “N-no, I’m— No.”

She pushes him away, gathers the stuff she drops, and runs without looking back.

“Ran!”

He shouts her name. Twice.

On the third call, his footfalls die down. On the fourth, he stops running.

She doesn’t.

.

.

Thirty minutes before midnight, Ran stands outside his gate, boots buried half foot under the snow as she rings his intercom for the second time, thinking to herself how foolish she must be to cut communications with him for a week and then show up his doorstep looking miserable like a stood-up date.

It’s the start of winter break.

He’ll leave for Akita in ten hours.

She needs to give his Christmas present before his departure.

She’s crazy, pathetic, still frustrated, and hurtfully in love.

“Oi. You better have a good explanation for why you’re buzzing at goddamn midnig—”

“Shinichi.”

His surprised gasp is apparent even through the intercom. A rustle follows and with a croaky voice, he responds. “...Ran.”

Surely he isn’t expecting this. Not after the tantrum she threw days ago. He probably thinks she hates him more than ever. But what she truly feels is more overwhelming than all negative emotions combined, and may god grant her all the strength to address it all, tonight.

“May I come in?”

“The house is—The house is a mess I, um. I’m packing my stuff for...”

“I’ll help you.”

“...”

She’ll understand if he decides to turn her down. But the answer that follows the deafening pause is a low and quiet ‘Okay’.

Despite psyching herself hours before she came, courage wanes when he opens the front door and gate in his pullovers. She is welcomed in, and the trip up his room is wordless. Shinichi only talks when he points out that he’s already packed clothes for two days and will need help for two weeks’ worth. He lamely laughs when he instructs her to pick the tops and layers, and he’ll take care of the pants and underwear.

On a normal instance, she would’ve humored him and they would’ve been talking right after. Now she simply pulls an empty smile and then they fall back into silence.

She supposes he’s trying to act unbothered, to treat what happened a week ago as a one-and-done glitch in their friendship, never to be discussed again. She cannot fault him when she’s trying to do the same. But it’s not easy when in the stillness of the night the echo of their altercation howls, raging persistently in their ears.

What has he been thinking of for the past week?

Has he been kept up all night by the words she said and the words he left unspoken?

Are they still friends? Will they still be friends after this?

The kiss... What about the kiss?

So many questions. So little words. So little time.

Ran is seated on the floor, folding shirts and stuffing them neatly in his duffel bag. Her back faces Shinichi who is sorting out bottoms in his cabinet. She senses him sit on the floor, back against her but not touching. Neither dares to speak first.

A ringing phone cuts the silence.

“Mm, still awake. Good for two weeks right? Gotcha. No, I’ll meet you girls at the station, no need to fetch me. Pfft. I can walk. Ok, see you tomorrow.”

If Ran wasn’t so hyperaware of where she is and what she’s done, her mood would’ve shifted to the one she’d been trying to avoid. Now isn’t the time to think about that. Midnight sneaking out to go to his house is something she wouldn’t do even on good days. She scans her bag on the far couch, deliberately bringing a bigger one to hide his gift. Maybe she can just sneak it in his bag and leave once she’s done and he’ll discover it only when he’s prefectures away. Brown has always suited him, and he’ll definitely find the overcoat useful as spare protective gear.

That’s right. She always cares for him like this. She is his best friend first, and... and nothing second.

“Don’t just leave after putting your present in my bag. At this hour, I can’t let you walk home alone,” he says swiftly.

Ran’s eyes fly wide.

“How did you…”

He doesn’t say anything and continues with his business.

Again with the throat-drying silence.

Something in Ran’s gut compels her to speak, but she is surprised when he does first.

“I... I don’t like Kaori-san. If that’s what you’re thinking.”

Ran stiffens, pausing mid-motion from folding. “I’m not…”

He leans his back completely against her and she shudders, voice reverberating through her skin. “Ran, if you could just hear me out.”

Unable to talk and move, she does.

“Kaori-san and the rest... They know I love mysteries. They know I want to build my own private detective agency. They know my favorite Holmes’ story is The Sign of Four. They know how many crimes I solved in Tokyo. All the information about me which anyone can read from the internet and newspaper and from what I told them when they ask, they know. Ran, you know all that. All that and more.”

He angles his head to the ceiling as if he’s talking to someone there. Ran supports his weight, curling to her knees as she silently listens.

“You know of my first ever deduction because Christ, my first deduction was about you. You know of the two cases which haunt me until this day because I watched the culprit die in front of my very eyes. You were with me the nights I locked myself in here thinking about them. You know of the interesting, the boring, the absurd cases, everything, because I told you or you were there. You know of the odd way I play the violin while I ponder over a case. You know I forget to eat when swamped with new books to read. I have three copies of The Sign of Four but the one I keep beside my bed and read almost weekly is the one you gave me on my tenth birthday and that is all I need. You know me for me, Ran. Everything about me that is off the record, the good and the bad, you know all of those. Only you. The same way I do... about you.”

She feels him crane slightly to the side, addressing her.

“Ran.”

“Mm.”

“I love you.”

Ran’s heart almost completely stops beating.

“I love you,” he whispers, “more than I am even supposed to.”

All words seem to have fizzled out of her vocabulary as she sits still, stunned at what she’s hearing.

“I’m happy growing up with you, studying with you, bickering with you, acting stupid with you, investigating with you, eating with you, napping with you, hugging you, holding you, taking care of you, simply... being with you. Before I know it, it’s not the cases or Holmes or mysteries that complete my days, it’s you.

“For you to keep repeating that ‘best friend’ phrase, I…” He lowers his head.

“For who knows how long, I’ve loved you as that and more.”

Someone pinch her because in no way can this be real.

“I was happy thinking you’re jealous because it meant a sliver of chance you feel the same way. We could’ve remedied the misunderstanding easily, Ran. We could’ve talked it over like we always do. But I was stupid and emotions were high and in the end I… kissed you…” he takes another deep breath, “But—but you kissed me back, and my heart couldn’t stay still...”

Pulse drumming loud, Ran tilts her head on the side where he leans, wanting to see the slightest expression he makes as he continues.

“If my deductions are wrong and you’re mad for a different reason, and—and you returned that for a different reason...” she hears the pang of remorse in his tone, “then please forget I ever said anything and I’ll leave myself to die in humiliation once I’m out of your sight.”

He lays one palm flat on the floor and she notices.

“But if my deductions are right and you were indeed jealous, I...” She feels his head swivel enough to feel his warm breath fan across her cheek, before shifting back front and releasing a slow, guttural exhale he’s kept contained within.

“I’ll wait... until you accept it. Accept me.”

Ran may have choked on her throat for how long she’s held her breath.

In spite of herself, she knows she doesn’t need to think of what to say. She had it all in her head before coming here. Yet expressing it out loud is a different matter.

She isn’t ready, but when will she ever be ready? Shinichi undoubtedly isn’t too. Yet here he is, laying the groundwork for her, no holds barred and a stuttering mess at that. How she plans to build from it is the question she asks herself next.

Inhaling as though bracing herself, she places a hand beside him, pinky slightly grazing his.

“I didn’t... You never showed any signs.”

Careful and calm, he extends his little finger over hers. She doesn’t flinch, and both hands crawl closer until two fingers overlap.

“Either I’m a great pretender or you’re incredibly dense.”

“I’m...I’m not dense.”

“I’m a bad actor, then.” He slides his hand further.

“I was trying so hard to be a supportive best friend for you.”

“I sensed that but ignored it because I didn’t want to assume anything.”

“You did though. Now we’re here.”

“Would you rather we aren’t?”

“I would rather we spend the last weeks of this year talking like normal than being stupid idiots before you leave.”

“It’s just two weeks, Ran.”

“Two special weeks I would’ve wanted to spend with my best frien-... with you.”

Without knowing it, his hand has completely nestled atop hers, four fingers curled between her thumb and index finger.

“Ran... You must really hate the idea of falling in love with me.”

“Eh?”

“You’re so wrapped with the thought that we’re simply best friends that you hold your love in chains as though it isn’t permitted to grow.”

“I… I didn’t want to ruin the only connection we have-”

“Two friends falling in love are still friends… They are also more. You cannot ruin an indefeasible connection. Friendship and love may be the only bond we have, but they’re the most important bond of all.”

Ran falls quiet.

“Geez…”

He releases a thick sigh, brushes his thumb across her splayed fingers.

“I have shit art appreciation skills, but I can take you to museums too... as a friend and as a date.” A beat, and a mumble. “Even to better museums than Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum.”

She darts her head sideways, realizing something.

“Were you also…?”

“No.”

Ran doesn’t suppress the heartfelt giggle that bubbles out.

“Shun-san has a boyfriend, Shinichi.”

“I—” he pauses. “I wasn’t asking.” Ran giggles more.

“Shinichi.”

“Yes.”

“I love you too.”

The hand above squishes hers all too suddenly like he’s been blown away and is needing something to hold onto.

“I came here to give your present and to apologize for being so shallow and for acting without thinking and for a lot of things actually... but now I feel there’s no need, because then I wouldn’t have...” She looks down at their intertwined hands.

Before she can return his squeeze, he recoils.

“Oh, y-you do apologize. Running away like that.” He coughs, and she can practically hear the tripping in his tone.

“Aren’t you already used to it? I’ve done it many times,” she chides.

“No. Apologize,” he insists. “And look at me while you do.”

Ran’s stomach twists, heart kicking up a step.

It’s easy to talk without eye contact, but to be requested so after confessions are exchanged—

“Face me, Ran.”

The familiar voice of yearning strums her heartstrings, tone sounding a lot like a plea than an order and Ran finds her head instinctively craning at an angle, hand coiling on the floor trying to calm her nervous beating heart. She feels him shift behind as well.

She takes all her time to face him, partly unsure what to do, partly knowing exactly what she wants to do. Despite the deliberate slowness of their movements, it is when they lock eyes that time truly seems to stop.

Shinichi appears so different, so soulful. His blue irises glimmering, fixated on nothing but her as she reveres him with matching intensity. The same guy she treats as her best friend looks at her with tender love in his eyes, darting down her lips and up like no best friend ever would.

“I love you,” he says, breathless. “Make me your boyfriend.��

A wave of emotion sweeps over her, heartbeat fluttering in overdrive as they huddle on the floor, bags and clothes and time forgotten.

“From best friend to... such a shift-”

“Nothing will be different.” He rests his forehead on hers, gaze of soft blue patient though more intimate now, knowing what they share is mutual. “We’ll still do what we do... With exclusive romantic commitment and sweet nothings that translate to ‘I love you’ in more ways than one.”

She attempts a jab on his chest but he catches her fist, soft but jesting beam all too apparent and she does but play along.

“What about when we fight?” she asks.

“Same. But...” he slides a thumb over her quiet lips, parting them slightly, “I can do this once we make up.”

“...Like right now?”

“Like right now.”

A genuine smile is the last thing she sees before delicate pair of lips lands on hers, capping their one-week fight and their last night of the year together in the best and most unexpected way imaginable.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she shouldn’t be jealous.

Not because they are simply best friends, because they aren’t. Not because life would be easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven, because it wouldn’t.

Not because Shinichi doesn’t look at her that way, because he does.

She shouldn’t be jealous because she absolutely has no reason to, is all.

“I haven’t forgotten about your present. I was planning to buy yours in Akita.”

“Stop lying, you totally forgot it.”

“I didn’t. Stop that.” Half-mast eyes rake her side profile, and Ran covers a mirthful grin with her mitted hand holding the umbrella, then yawns. Hours of packing and talking and laughing left them with roughly four hours of sleep. It isn’t like she slept the whole period because while sleeping in his room isn’t new, cuddling while they sleep is. Ran couldn’t simply shut her eyes and heart to that.

“I believe though,” he wraps a hand around her free one, pocketing both of them in his brand new overcoat, “I gave half of my present already.”

“Hnn. That doesn’t count as a gift.” Her hand shifted, coddling his own to a warm fit.

“Really?” A smug smirk pulls up his face. “I believe I am a nice present, Ran. That’s why they—”

“Screw this. You are unbelievable. A humbug. Why do people like you.”

“I know. Why do you like me?” Shinichi laughs as he avoids the swing of her umbrella.

From afar, they see Kaori and the girls at the meet-up point outside Tokyo Station, though they seem unaware of their presence yet. Suddenly feeling conscious, Ran feels the urge to disentangle her hand, but Shinichi holds on, firm.

“Why?” He asks in a low voice.

“I dunno… maybe this isn’t the best time…”

“Isn’t now the best time?” His smile is proud and natural, not one ounce of reluctance visible.

Although she gets what he means, that doesn’t free her of shyness and guilt. Somehow she feels like apologizing to Kaori for… she doesn’t know. She just wants to. Letting her see them like this makes her think that she’s giving her an indirect slap on the face. Shinichi certainly won’t agree because ‘What’s with women and their logic?’, but still, whether or not it’s all in her head, Ran needs more time to prepare for this.

But to her surprise, Shinichi lets go of her hand. They are still a few feet from view when he steps in front of her and turns around. “Maah, fine, I get it,” he huffs, then smiles. “Then, just give me your umbrella.”

The moment she does, Shinichi closes their distance and dips his face onto hers. Ran is given no leeway to gasp as loving lips seal her quiet. It isn’t as long as what they shared a week ago, but the emotions are loaded and full, speaking fond thanks and temporary farewell.

She doesn’t realize she has closed her eyes until he separates, and she’s met with the most tender, most angelic expression he wears only on the rarest occasions. He’s saying without telling that her feelings are valid, she doesn’t have to worry,  and he doesn’t have eyes for anyone but her. Somehow, the snow is the sea and fish are swarming around but neither cares because they have already caught each other.

“You don’t have to, silly.” Three layers of pink blanket Ran’s puffy cheeks.

“But I want to.” Grinning, Shinichi hands her back the umbrella. “You don’t like hand-holding. You don’t like being seen. Don’t you think that’s a great compromise?”

“Idiot, many people saw...”

“No, they didn’t!” Upping the duffel bag slung on his shoulder, he steps back and gives her one last goofy beam. “I’ll see you next year, Ran. I’ll call as often as I can.”

Wordlessly, Ran watches Shinichi’s back as he jogs to his waiting companions, who by then have already had their eyes pinned on the approaching figure.

“That is Shinichi-kun! ...And Mouri-san!”

“Ehhh!!?! You’re a thing!”

So much for being subtle, Ran flushes inwardly as she returns the wave the other girls are giving her. At that moment she really does feel immature for her past conduct. All of them are sweet. Even Kaori.

“I knew it Shinichi-kun! Mouri-san is sooo lucky, I’m so jealous!” Ran hears their banter and sees her jab his bicep before acknowledging her. “We’ll take care of him, Mouri-san!”

The Ran from one week ago would’ve had her heart crushed by such declaration, but now she’s nothing but pleased and the smile that forms across her lips is nothing but honest. “Make sure he doesn’t drag your group into a random dead body, Kaori-san!”

“Hey!” surfaces Shinichi’s shout amidst the mincing laughter of the group and the onlooking passers-by, and Ran bids her last wave before they enter the station.

Smiling to herself, Ran returns home, the lingering promise of his kiss committed to memory, knowing that she doesn’t have to get jealous because she has no reason to. Their indefeasible bond is all the assurance she needs.

.

.

.

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Laughter is my Love Language

Summary:  Logan doesn't laugh much when Virgil first meets him. Eventually Virgil learns when Logan is truly happy is when he opens up.

Warnings: food mention, some self deprecating humor. If there are more please let me know!

Ships: Logan x Virgil, Analogical

WC: 1, 664

General Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @im-an-anxious-wreck @logans-library @janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi @ace-in-a-shopping-cart (you had asked to be tagged in this a while ago, I hope it’s still okay)

Logan doesn’t laugh much when they first meet, which is somewhat of a problem for Virgil since he often relied on laughter to fill otherwise awkward silences. The problem was that Virgil was funny in the stupid way- which he blamed entirely on his dad’s humor that fell over to the punnier side. Crack a pun, reference a meme or as a last ditch effort self deprecating humor was usually relatable enough. Logan fell for none of those and more or less was just left confused by them- or he took the self depreciation too seriously and Virgil ended up with a heartfelt lecture on how important he was. Which, as sweet as it was, wasn’t the point of poking fun at something at his own expense.

--

“Boy Logan that sandwich is jam packed!” said Virgil sometime during their freshman year of high school.

Logan had looked at his sandwich in confusion. “There’s peanut butter there too- but yes it’s Crofters.”

Virgil fought to keep the smile on his face. “Yeah I know, it was a joke.”

“But it is packed with- oh that was a pun. Clever.” 

--

“Here comes dat boi!” Virgil cringed at his own voice as the meme reference fell out of his mouth. He hadn’t seen Logan smile once that day and all attempts at conversation had fallen flat so...memes. Why not? Logan was on his laptop often enough he had probably seen what he was referencing at some point. Plus Logan was gliding very confidently on his skateboard and Virgil was suddenly feeling very tense and wanted to break it. Logan, unhelpful as he was, merely stopped and kicked the board up to tuck underneath his arm.

“‘Dat’?” He questioned.

“I-it’s...a meme. I was- referencing a meme.”

“Ah.”

“...yeah.”

Nailed it.

--

“That’s just me being dumb though- you know how it is.” Virgil let out a defeated huff of laughter and settled his chin on his arms. It was their senior year and he was talking to Logan about his current grades. Everything else was straight A’s other than gym. He didn’t like changing in front of others and the bathrooms were blocked off for whatever reason so he just didn’t do it. He took the fail but still needed the credit or he’d have problems getting his diploma, which was completely stupid and unfair but he knew it was his own stubborn fault and-

“I don’t know.” Logan hadn’t laughed at the “joke”, of course he hadn’t. Virgil sighed, opening his mouth to say something else completely stupid and worthless but Logan beat him to it.

“You aren’t stupid. Lack of participation doesn’t mean you’re stupid, it means there’s some other problem that needs addressing if you’re willing to take a failing grade instead of confronting it.” Logan turned to him with a serious look. Always so serious. “So, if I may ask, where’s the problem?”

Virgil blinked. “It’s stupid.”

“Virgil.”

“I just...don’t like…” Virgil turned into his elbow, cheeks reddening at how dumb the problem really was.

“I didn’t hear you. Can you please speak up? Or write it down if that’s easier.”

Snorting he decided to take him up on that, tearing a scrap of paper off his notebook and writing it down.

There was a pause and then: “Is this all? If you take the make-up class there won’t be nearly as many people and if you get there early you can be changed before anyone sees you.”

Peaking around, Logan’s face was so genuine, like he actually wanted to help. Virgil almost didn’t have the heart to say why that was also a problem but he needed him to understand. “I won’t know anyone in the make-up class.”

Logan screwed his mouth to one side trying to figure out why that would be something Virgil would worry about. His face brightened somewhat as he looked back to Virgil. “If it would ease your anxiety I could take the class with you. While I may not have to make up for the credit, it is open to sign up for extra if anyone so chooses.”

Virgil bit his lip. That would- actually really help, but he couldn’t let Logan do that could he? “You don’t have to.”

“I am aware. But going would be a nice routine and I would be very happy to do it if it meant you would be more comfortable.”

“You’re serious? You would really do that?���

“I’m always serious, Virgil. Of course I will.”

Maybe sometimes Logan not getting the joke was a good thing.

--

“L, it’s three in the morning. Go to bed.” They were in college sharing a dorm, and though Virgil could fall asleep with the lights fully on so Logan’s lamp wasn’t keeping him awake, it was the fact the other man was still awake that was bothering him.

Logan let out a short, humorless laugh and waved hi hand. “I’m almost done.”

Virgil hated when he laughed like that. No happiness behind it, only stress and exhaustion and irritation. Sighing Virgil reached over and plucked the pencil from his hand, shooting him a warning look when it seemed like he was about to protest. He closed the book and stacked it neatly with the couple notebooks he had and placed the pencil and calculator on top. Turning to his dorm mate he pointed to the dresser in the corner. “Pjs. Now.”

Slightly concerned when Logan only stood up to do as he was told instead of arguing he shrugged it off and sat back down on the bed. Logan came over a moment later, plain black tee drooping over one shoulder and sleep shorts slightly rumpled. They really needed to do laundry. Before he could say as much, Virgil was suddenly on his back, Logan’s head on his chest with his legs sticking straight over the side. Laughing softly he ran his fingers through the others light red hair, combing out the tangles gently while Logan relaxed into him.

“Logan buddy, I love you so much but if we fall asleep like this we’ll never get up again.” The other grumbled but took a breath and rolled off his chest, swinging his legs over to turn on his side and nearly kicking Virgil in the head in the process. Smirking, Virgil crawled up behind him and flopped with his arm slung over his side. He laughed again when he realized he was already asleep, arms askew and already drooling on the pillow. Snuggling into his back and hugging him tight he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep himself.

--

Logan sat at the table with a book flat on the surface, notebook close by as he made careful notes for the next curriculum. His brow was pinched in thought and his third mug of coffee was cooling beside him, untouched for nearly an hour as he fixated on his work.

Virgil looked back out the window as he finished drying a glass. Gray clouds were rolling in and it was already starting to drizzle. Good,  they needed a good rain for the start of summer. Tuning in once again to the furious scratching of a pencil behind him he set the glass down and whirled around, racing over and catching Logan’s hands in his own to tug him up and towards the door. 

“Virgil what are we- it’s raining! Virgil!” Virgil stopped for a moment to look and see if Logan was actually distressed but upon seeing more fond annoyance than anything else he grinned and stepped out into the downpour. He took away one of his hands and led Logan in a spin down the porch, feet slipping slightly in the wet grass as he maneuvered them around. Logan was smiling now, stress lines gone from his face as wet hair flopped into his eyes and obscured his vision. Virgil’s own hair was slicked flat to his forehead, emo fringe he would never cut hanging down to his lips before he shook his head hard to dispel the water. Logan yelped and flinched away before laughing low at himself, grin turning mischievous as he reached up above virgil’s head to take a hold of a tree branch. Yelling as what felt like gallons of water soaked him he stood there thoroughly soaked and shivering slightly before letting out a howl of laughter, Logan following right after. He was sure the neighbors could hear them but he didn’t care. Logan was laughing so hard he was clutching his sides, shaking with the effort of holding himself together.

This was what Virgil loved most. Logan didn’t always laugh easily, not understanding the joke or understanding what was meant to be a joke but making sure the person was okay first. When he did laugh, it was one shared with others over whatever dumb, stress free thing they were doing. It was unplanned and in the moment, something Logan and Virgil were usually both averse to. But here in the rain, or getting icing everywhere on their wedding day, or the shared laughed when they woke up together after yelling at each other the night before to go to sleep it rang out; it was clear and joyful and carefree- a language all on it’s own that neither of them needed to “get” in order to join in .

When they first met Logan didn’t laugh a lot, which was somewhat of a problem for Virgil since he often relied on laughter to fill otherwise awkward silences. But when he opened up he began laughing all the time, each one precious and kept close to the chest. Virgil collected them, hoarded them even, storing them like coins in a jar in exchange for the happiness he felt each time he was the one to cause such a beautiful sound. And as they giggled still through slight coughs under a blanket that night, he couldn’t be more happy he could speak this language with Logan.

This work is also available on AO3!

If you like this please reblog! reblogs help creators get their work seen!

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Views Change | John B x reader

Requested by anon // Summary:  He sees you as a little sister however, one day that changes.

A/N: This was requested a while back and I started working on it then, but never finished it. Finally finished it today and I hope you all enjoy! xx pls ignore any mistakes lol 

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: OPEN {CLOSED}

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

He’d always seen you as his little sister since he’d met you in middle school. You’re only a year younger than him. You two had a close-knit relationship, a sibling one of course; nothing romantic.

However, the day he saw you walk out in that y/f/c dress, you weren’t his little “sister” anymore. It was your senior prom. You and the pogues were all going as a group like usual. No dates, just friends. You’d walked out of Kie’s house following Kie, laughing at something she’d said and as he sat in the driver’s seat of the van, it was like a rush of emotions hit him all at once.

He reached over the driver’s side and threw open the passenger door for you as JJ did the same with the back door for Kie.

“hey!” You smile, gripping the edge of your dress and sliding into the seat.

“Hey.” He smiles in return. She’s stunning.

“Ready to dance your ass off at prom?” You ask, buckling yourself into the seat.

Oh boy, he ready to dance with you for sure.

~

He kept glancing over at you any time he could. Music was blaring through the speakers and every pogue was singing at the top of their lungs as he pulled into the school parking lot. As soon as he parks, he opens his door, “y/n, can you grab that and put it in the dash?” He pointed to something random in the middle console.

You furrowed your eyebrows as he rounded the van, you held up what you thought he’d pointed to, “This?” He nods as he rounds the van. He didn’t need that to be put in the dash. He only wanted to get to your side before you exited the van so he could open the door for him. Not like you knew that. He opened your door, “Just don’t want it sitting out.”

You laugh a little and nod, “Okay..” You exit the vehicle and fluff out your dress, “I look okay?” The other pogues had already headed toward the entrance of the school gym.

“hello? Earth to John B?” You snap your fingers. He’d been staring right at you, but didn’t hear a word.

“Huh? Sorry.”

“I said, do I look okay?” You motioned to your dress, “I mean is it too much?”

“It’s perfect. You look perfect.”

You take a second to watch him. Something is different; the look in John B’s eyes are a look of love and longing.

“You pogues coming?!” Pope calls out, breaking up the small moment between you two. If that is what you wanted to call it.

~

Your hands are in his hair; his hands on your waist, pulling you closer into his chest. “we’re going to get caught.” Your speech is mumbled against his lips.

“shhh….” He backs you against the door, “We have 10 minutes before they get here.”

“That’s plenty of time for you.” You tease.

“Oh, you’re going to pay for that comment.” John B grumbles against your lips.

You let out a squeal as he tickles at your sides, leading you back toward his bed.

“Yo! John B!” JJ.

You groan and flare out your arms on the bed, John B getting off you. “Can we tie him up and put him in a closet?” You sit up with a huff, “let him out when we’re done?”

John B chuckles and shakes his head, “We’ll just have to finish this later.” He kisses you quickly and walks out of the room, “JJ, what’s up?”

You groan again and fall back on the bed. This sneaking around stuff was bull crap. It was all because of Kie and the no pogue on pogue smacking. Which at the time, you agreed with, but now? You hated it and found it to be the stupidest rule ever known to man.

John B poked his head back into the room, “You coming?”

~

“you guys want to go see a movie tonight?” Kie asks, munching on a bag of veggies.

You glanced over at John B, who did the same to you and gave him a look. He knew that meant no.

“No.” You and John B said at the same time.

Kie, JJ and Pope looked up at you questionably, “Damn okay.” JJ says.

“I just have homework.” You take a bite of your sandwich, shrugging.

“I’m going to help her.” John B nods, “With her homework.”

You mentally facepalmed. Way to be discrete John B.

Kie raises an eyebrow at you two and JJ narrows his eyes at the two of you. “You are acting suspicious.”

Kie nods, “I agree. Aren’t they acting suspicious, Pope?”  

Pope suddenly finds a chip more entertaining.

“Pope!” Kie snaps him out of his trance.

“Huh? Sorry. What was asked?”

“Aren’t they acting suspicious?” JJ asks,

You stop your movements, out of everyone to find out first, it had to be Pope seeing the two of you on the boat together. He hates lying and he’s the worst at it.

Pope meets your eyes and you’re already giving him a don’t you dare look.

“Yes?” He asks questionably.

“Pope’s lying.” JJ points out.

“Spill it, Pope. You’re the worst liar ever.”

“They’re dating.” Pope spits out, pointing at you and John B, and then gives you and John B a sorry look. “You guys know I hate lying!”

You and John B groan.

“no pogue on pogue smacking!” Kie huffs, “That’s the rules!”

“Yeah well that rule is bullshit.” You snap, standing and moving to sit next to John B, “You and JJ had a thing and we didn’t say shit.”

Kie and JJ’s eyes go wide.

“We saw you two the night of prom, don’t even try to lie.” John B wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in for a kiss on the temple, “So really you guys can’t say shit.”

Kie groans, “I told you the supply closet was the worst place.”

JJ smirks, “Yeah but-”

Kie gives him a look that stops him and wipes the smirk off his face, “I guess we can’t say anything or we’d be hypocrites.”

You nod, “True.”

“So since we’re airing out the secrets, can I tell you that John B and y/n had sex where you two are eating?” Pope points to Kie and JJ.  

Obx taglist: @poguestyleskye​ , @alexa-playafricabytoto​ , @kaelyn-lobrutto24 , @prejudic3​ , @turtlee-says-rawr​ , @outrbank​ , @k-k0129​ , @annedub​ , @rockyyc77​ , @ilovejjmaybank​ , @treestarrrrrrrr​​ , @thedarkqueenofavalon​ , @write-from-the-heart​ , @eclecticpuppyhollywoodhumanoid , @lasnaro​​ , @kiarasgold , @normatural​ , @kaylinfayezink​ , @lordsagittarius , @moose-squirrel-asstiel​ , @thelovelydreamer17​ , @chasefreakinstokes​ , @fanficscuziranout​ , @diverrdown​ , @tregua-oca​ , @junkiemuppettxx​ , @afterglowsb-tch13 , @hardyxlove​ , @cinnamon-roll-seth​ , @copper-boom​ , @aomi-nabi​ , @dpaccione​ , @joshy-obx​ ,

John B Routledge // Chase Stokes taglist: @sataninsatin​ , @losers-club6​ , @bananasfromtarget​ , @lolychu​

All my works tag list: @blossomreed​ , @mggstyles  , @simonsbluee​ , @thewolf-and-thesheep , @obxrafe , @abbiesthings​ , @itstaskeen

[hunterclaringtonjoy]

Hunter’s Choice

Who: Hunter Clarington & Frannie Fabray When: August 12, 2021 Where: Frannie’s Apartment What: Hunter considers what’s next for him now he’s graduated and has a proposition for Frannie.

Hunter’s Choice

Hunter had been lucky to be able to keep his apartment after graduation but the contract was coming to an end in just over a week and then he’d be forced to go home. Despite his father’s wishes, Hunter hadn’t signed up to join the army yet so it appeared as though going back to Canada would be his only option.

The wishes of Clarington Senior were more accurately demands in the form of daily phone calls or emails from Mr C’s “friends” in the US armed forces less than gently trying to persuade Hunter to join whatever training program they could pluck out of thin air for the son of a respected officer. Of course, none of this communication came directly from Mr C though as that would require him to give up his time to be part of his children’s lives, he could simply direct their paths from afar and continue to be hands on as little as possible. 

Between spending time with Frannie, Ollie and Benji whenever the latter wasn’t with his new boyfriend, and working with the Eagle Scouts program mentoring the young men aiming to achieve the highest award of the Boy Scouts, the summer had flown by in a blur of joy and excitement with his family which was barely keeping his fears for the coming fall at bay. 

Every time those fears threatened to overwhelm Hunter he’d go to the gym and swim lap after lap never stopping long enough to brake his concentration from his sights set on the spot on the wall at the other end of the pool and he’d only leave the water when he was in pain from either burning lungs or burning muscles from the effort he’d exerted. 

The 20th was fast approaching and Hunter needed to have a plan in place for the next step in his life, he couldn’t put this off any longer. He’d actually slept in his own bed in his own apartment the night before so thankfully he wasn’t disturbing Frannie and Ollie with his pacing, which he’d been doing for at least two hours now as he twisted the box in his hand between his fingers deftly as one might do with a pen. This was Hunters’ chance to change his trajectory and make his life his own and not live in his father’s shadow. 

Taking a deep breath Hunter walked up to Frannie’s apartment and by-passed knocking on the door and simply walking in. thinking on it hunter couldn’t even remember the last time he had knocked and waited for Frannie’s response. That apartment was more like grand central station these days what with Hunter coming and going as he pleased to spend time with Ollie, Sam and Nikko popping up whenever they wanted, and then Benji and Mason appearing out of thin air at all hours of the day or night. Hunter of a year ago would have laughed if someone had said this was going to be his life, and yet he wouldn’t change it for the world. 

“Hey babe,” Hunter called closing the door behind himself, feeling relaxed as soon as he was on the other side. “I wanted to talk to you about something.” He tugged nervously at his button up, smoothing down the bottom hem over top of his dark wash jeans, hoping Ollie wasn’t currently a sticky mess and ruin the white shirt. Hunt scolded himself momentarily for bothering to wear white in the vicinity of their son but he wanted to look good today. 

“You know it’s been embarrassingly obvious that I’ve had no idea what to do after graduation after you managed to talk me out of being my father’s carbon copy and I need to thank you for that somehow because I found something perfect for me, at least the next year. The swim team is looking for a coach for the next academic year. Ours is taking off and moving to New Zealand to coach an Olympic hopeful and I couldn’t pass up what seemed like a perfect opportunity. Yesterday I found out I got the job. So I’m staying here. I’ll be able to rent a home over at the on campus staff housing association so if you want, you and Ollie could live there with me?” 

Hunter had never spoken a sentence so quickly in all his life. He wasn’t the type of person to anxiously jabber on about nothing, he was brought up to be clear and concise but it was a big ask to propose such a thing to Frannie, to someone he felt so many things he’d never felt before. Frannie’s answer would be truly life changing for them all and he was about five seconds from starting to recall every single one of the Jewish Hebrew prayers Ben had taught him for luck.

Frannie's Response 

Frannie had been pulling all her classic moves to avoid talking about what was actually bothering her. Well, what had be bothering her for ages... but only now was back to the front of her mind since talking to Benji. It was ironic, really, that one of the people she was most concerned about in this whole situation was Benji, and now he was encouraging her to talk to Hunter about whatever was "weird." 

And despite what Sam kept thinking, the weirdness was not from some kind of unrequited love between herself and Hunter... but Sam had gotten into her head about what living with Hunter could mean. For a while, the thought had been circling her brain to tell Hunter that he should just move in with herself and Ollie when the lease was up now that he was no longer a student. She'd just figured that would be easier for everyone, right? And she had a spare room. Nothing had to really change, right? 

But with Benji living with her as of recent until the leases opened up for him to get his own place, the idea fell to the back of her brain. It would be weird to have him here and Hunter trying to move in too, or at least that's what she told herself. 

The door opened and she didn't even look over, just started talking. "I got more juice boxes. Also, string cheese, animal crackers, and some more p.b. and j for sandwiches, s-" She stopped speaking when she realized it was Hunter and turned her head quickly. "Oh shit, sorry. I thought you were Benji. Hey," she smiled before turning her attention back to the laundry she was folding, honestly unsure of what articles of clothing belonged to who. "What's up?" 

She nodded as she listened to him speak, glancing over every few seconds so he would know she was paying attention. She shook her head a little, her cheeks feeling a bit warmer, when he credited her with changing his mind- which seemed very unbelievable to her. But she stopped folding and turned to look at him with wide eyes when she heard his job opportunity. "Hunt! That's amazing, what the hell! You're going to be am- wait, what did you say?" She blinked, dropping the still unfolded shirt back into the basket and running her hand over her hair. "You want us to live with you? I-" She stammered a bit, letting out a small laugh. "That's- I mean, you... I was going to ask you that…"

Hunter’s Proposition 

“Good to know my brother is still actually showing up here, I swear he’s at the Smythe’s more than anyone else.” Hunter laughed, “Not that I blame him after Chris…” He huffed, grabbing down the bottle of bourbon he had hidden at the back of the highest cupboard in Frannie’s kitchen and pouring a couple of ounces into a glass to calm his nerves. Hunter still felt ill-will towards Chris after he found out Ben had needed to break up with his childhood crush, making Hunter more on edge than ever about Ben entering a new relationship because clearly people felt like they could treat the youngest Clarington like garbage and Hunter wasn’t going to stand by and let that happen again. 

Watching Frannie stumble a little as he continued to talk always amused Hunter. He was the type of person that had no qualms continuing to talk without letting people respond, so seeing Frannie go from joy about his job announcement to what appeared to be nerves or surprise in reaction to his invite made him chuckle but only because he found it adorable and endearing. 

However, the most interesting part of Frannie’s response was she took had been getting ready to ask him the same question. “Ask me to live here? As convenient as that sounds I’m ready to stop sharing a bedroom with my son, and little brother when he feels like spending the night with his ‘Mom’.” He grinned, in the back of his mind thinking about how this could be an opportunity to get into her bed… But the little voice of restraint in his mind, which oddly enough had the voice of the Smythe’s sister, told him to take it slow. 

“We can get a three bedroom over in the staff complex, they have some renovated town houses that would be perfect for the three of us so if you have exams or cases to study for I can keep Ollie occupied in a different part of the house.” Hunter explained, wandering over and picking up the discarded shirt and smiling, it was one of his that he’d often pull on first thing after waking up to bathe or change Ollie before he showered and got ready for the day himself. 

“So what do you say? Think you can live that far from Jolly Green and little Prescott?” Hunter give his best sensual persuasive smile, practically batting his eyelashes. 

[soclonely]

The Clones as Students, Family and Staff on The Last Day Of School

Rex- That poor student that is so tired, they don't realize its the last day

Echo- My high school english teacher who assigned a paper on the LAST DAY to do for he class.

Fives- LOL its the last day, he slept in and showed up at 11 to clean up his locker with a bag of mcdonalds chicken sandwiches in hand

Jesse- PARKING LOT PARTY CREW AFTER SCHOOLS LET OUT BE THERE OR BE SQUARE

Kix- His family is already halfway around the world on a cruise ship celebrating summer

Tup-That kid whose locker is so full of just papers and garbage he had to grab the gigantic garbage can from the lunch room to empty it out

Dogma- the teacher who is secretly relieved because his trouble making student didn't get summer school with him.

Hardcase- making everyone sign his yearbook

Coric- tries to start a Grease musical ending in the cafeteria during last lunch

Bly- Him and his gf literally just sat in the gym all day with their friends chatting about summer plans and smooching(we all know that couple)

99- The sweet old lunch lady who made sure there were extra brownies for everyone during lunch!

Cody- Sleeping under a desk somewhere

Waxer/Boil- Those parents that are there in the morning AND afternoon taking pictures of their kids and making them pose with teachers, friends, and the school mascot sign. (Khai vibes)

Wolffe- grouchy school security officer who is still trying to keep the hallways empty and safe, even if its the last day

Boost/Sinker- tried to pull a senior prank but got caught and had to come in on the last day and clean up their mess.

Hunter- returned the library book he checked out like, the first week of school

Wrecker- as soon as he gets to each class, takes the hallpass and wanders around to other classrooms

Tech- begging for extra credit last minute because he cannot bear the thought of having only a 101% in History

Crosshair- grumpy secretary wandering around and cornering kids to pay this years school fees. Because you know our parents taxes and neighborhood property taxes just aren't enough and your $60 lab fees will make a difference.

Thank you to all of you hard working teachers out there who, despite a hard and weird year of virtual, in person, and mixed learning pulled through and taught some kids. You did it! They may not appreciate it now but one day they will and I hope you have a fantastic upcoming summer!

And to all of you young followers still in school, great job! It was a hard year but you did it! And I hope you have a safe and happy summer.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Professor Cavill HC

listen yall.... i usually stay away from the Real Person fic kinda stuff bc i learned from the psychosis that was the 1D fandom but... this post and @brexrif s additions got me thinking...

Henry as a prof of any kind:

he learns after the first week of his rookie semester that he needs to keep his shirts buttoned all the way. the girls in the front row did not, and could not, pay attention.

he abandons the idea of using the school gym to work out after two days

a group of students just camps in the slow lane of the track surrounding the weight room and ogle

someone said something about ancient Greeks collecting the sweat of gladiators and he had to wipe his sweat off to hide the giggle

ratemyprofessor dot com gets wild

“giant goofball. super hot. defs failed the course bc he was just too hot to concentrate. gonna take it again tho 😏 because i need the credits. just for the credits“

“My girlfriend dumped me bc she felt guilty that she was thinking about Mr. C while we fucked. Stung a bit, but it was the best sex we had...”

all the ‘i thought i was straight’ guys losing their minds

“Someone really should have warned me that hes this hot. I am too much of a thirsty bitch. This semester might actually kill me.”

the ‘how big is it?!’ discourse gets so many people banned that they move it to reddit

complete with zoomed in photos from the second row of class when they think he isn't looking

the engineering majors whip out that trig to try to figure it out, for thirst and just to end the madness.

it makes it worse when they all get results in the 8.84-9.62 inch region depending on what they use in the background for reference and where they rounded digits. 

one class is brave and takes to carving their phone numbers or social media into apples to leave on his desk.

one day he walks in to like seven of them and just gives this long suffering sigh while trying not to laugh, it would encourage them too much.

he does that Hot Teacher thing where he leans back against the desk with his arms and legs crossed and has to be like “Guys. For the love of all that’s good and holy. I don’t have tenure yet, don’t fuck this up for me. Keep the thirst on reddit, please?”

half of them aren’t listening bc his arms are just so big and there’s chest hair peeking out above his sweater and they’re just weak like me

in five minutes there’s a whole new thread frantically trying to sift thru and find his user

his WoW character gets leaked and he just gets buried in gifts

the dean has to have that awkward, “look dude you gotta make a new profile, this is just a scandal waiting to happen.”

he deadass begged the openly ace seniors to be his TA bc the last one was just exhaustively flirty and shameless

he hears someone lament the Chin Dimple™ and grows a beard in hopes that tamps their enthusiasm

this only brings a new demographic into the reddit thread/what has almost become a fandom

he shaves and they go buck wild

he tries a stache because he sees a post about how every guy is instantly creepier with a pornstache

once again, makes. it. worse.

one particularly fearless student calls him “Magnum” at the end of that semester and he blushes

buzzfeed writes an article about him, screenshots of the threads included.

the day he gets contacts instead of those cute nerd glasses the whole class is drooling but half post later that they miss the dorky glasses

he assigns a ‘make a meme out of this’ project and half of them come back with the guy looking over his shoulder at the passing girl while his girlfriend looks at him in disgust, all about him. 

his favorite one had the guy labeled “The whole class” the girlfriend labeled “getting any work done” and the passing girl labeled “Mr. C’s ass”

he gives this guy an A but swears him to secrecy, he cant encourage the thirst but the kid took a risk

the school has to be like ‘calm the fuck down guys. hes just some nerd in sweater vests. plz we like him and you are making us nervous about lawsuits’

Someone sees him out on a date in a leather jacket and reddit goes insane 

everyone actually tries for his classes

he has to make a sign up sheet for office hours

which he now does outside in the courtyard because someone wrote a rather detailed and impressive smut fic called “Office Hours or Dick Appointment?” that had the dean giving him side eye

he secretly loves it but keeps up the long suffering shy boy act out of necessity 

if he makes a song or movie reference it is immediately added to a playlist somewhere

the gays are praying hes bi

praying

the year he gets tenure the seniors do a skit about the redit thread at graduation - it fucking slaps

he give a thumbs up and approving nod

i could truly go for days. plz add to it. 

[artificialqueens]

Backyard Boy (Gottrosenali) - Pinkgrapefruit

a/n -

special thanks to the druk discord for both their help with gottrosenali as a whole and the enby central station for their invaluable help in my portrayal of a trans character. also thanks to frey for her infinite wisdom when it comes to grammar.

i really hope you like it so please let me know how you feel!!!

*

Dance with me in my backyard, boy

Looking super fine in your corduroy

Drive me ‘round the block

We can go in a loop

And we’ll turn the volume up on some

Good boy band tunes

*

Mik leans forward, head bumping against one of the front seats as he attempts to grab Denali’s phone from the cup holder. She doesn’t notice, too focused on navigating towards the Mcdonald’s, but Rosé does, and she slaps his hand like a small child.

“I love you baby boy, but I’d rather Nali drive us into a wall before I let you play Gaga one more time.” She sounds grumpy, but Mik can search out the soft undertone and he rubs a thumb over her hand before he leans back. He sighs in relief, twisting a little to try and release some of the pressure from his binder before he sits back.

“God, someone needs to get some food into you,” he jokes and he watches as Denali places her hand on Rosé’s thigh - the pink-haired girl has always been the worst for being hangry.

It’s their lunch break, and they’ve escaped into town to get a McDonald’s before they have to sit through another hour of school. There isn’t a lesson they share between the three of them, so they relish in this time together.

“Drive-thru or eat in?” Denali calls out, her volume always a little too loud for the tiny Volkswagen she drives.

“Uh,” Mik replies, “I’m paying and I need a wee, so I reckon we go inside and then eat in the car.”

Rosé grunts, and he sees Denali’s thumb slide over her tights before she sighs. “You know I hate it when we eat in here,” she moans, but then she catches his eye and rolls her own. “But sure.”

Mik pumps his fist in triumph and, once they’re parked up, makes sure to give Denali a quick peck on the forehead before intertwining his fingers with Rosé’s. Denali wipes the Carmex off her forehead with an affectionate scowl, patting his ass in return before skipping ahead to open the door.

“My loves,” she bows her head, waving her hand in a comically large gesture that makes even Rosé crack a smile.

“Chivalry ain’t dead. He hears her mutter under her breath, and he laughs in response, loving the way her eyes brighten up when he does.

He orders for them, Rosé in too much of a grump to avoid yelling at the poor cashiers, and Nali with just a little too much anxiety. He notes down the orders on his phone like a good boyfriend and then relays them perfectly, adding on a bag of mozzarella sticks because he knows Rosé will try and steal his.

"Ladies,” he bows as he holds out the brown paper bag, and Rosé loops a hand through his arm. He loves it when she allows herself to be clingy, and Denali does too, so they let her whenever she feels it - even if it means having to guide a dead weight back to the car.

She sighs and flutters her eyes open when she’s back into the passenger seat before snorting a chuckle that makes Denali do a double-take from the fries she’d been devouring.

She points hazily at the paper bag. “Mik-Donalds-” she jokes.

“Fuck,” Mik says, leaning forward again from the back seat to drop a peck on Rosé’s cheek. “God, I love you.”

Denali places a palm on his cheek while he’s still leaning forward. “Same,” she sighs. “Same.

*

I can feel the fresh air

I can feel your eyes stare

And I’m not gonna lie

I get a little bit scared

My heart is on wings

I’m living in dreams

And at the top of our lungs, we sing

*

He lets his back hit the locker with a clang, double-checking the number because even after a year and a bit of dating he’s still never quite sure which locker belongs to Rosé. Luckily, he’s proven to be correct when Denali skips over to him, slipping her hand into his and leaning her head on his arm with a deep sigh.

"Spanish not doing it for you?” he jokes, tilting his head so it rests on top of hers, watching the rest of the students trail out of the class.

“Not last period,” she sighs, rubbing her temple with her index finger. “I’m getting a headache I swear.” She angles her head to check Mik’s watch and clicks her tongue. “Where’s Rosie,” she whines, much to Mik’s amusement.

“Rehearsals will be running late,” he tells her, enjoying the way she’s curling further into his side as the bell chimes loudly above them.

She harrumphs, mewling even more as he pulls away from her side, placing his rucksack on the ground and rummaging around for the painkillers he tends to keep. He finds them, and hands them to her alongside a bottle of water that she grasps quickly, swallowing the pills with a happy sigh. When he stands, he lets her fall back under his arm and he traces patterns on her back, muttering about his senior textiles project while she butts in with questions.

As the 3:15 bell chimes, they watch the last dregs of students trail out of the door, and Mik starts to suck at his teeth in frustration. He knows he’s done the same thing when engrossed in a project, eyes only focusing on the way the needle goes through the fabric, but he can’t bring himself not to be irritated when Rosé hasn’t even texted.

“Ah, the prophetic daughter returns,” Denali mocks from in his shirt, pulling him out of his thoughts and making him turn towards the theatre department where Rosé is jogging casually down the hall.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she calls, sliding slightly as her worn converse lack grip on school linoleum. She comes to a halt, hands on his bare arms, lips pressed against his cheek in a chaste peck. She does the same to Denali in apology, and although the girl still looks grumpy, there’s a flicker of warmth in her eyes.

“You’re driving home,” she says bluntly, handing over her keys with a scowl before turning to the door, and Rosé looks at Mik questioningly.

“Headache,” he tells her, and she nods knowingly.

“Migraine?”

“Not yet.” She sighs, shaking the keys in her hand to elicit a pleasant jingle, but Mik notices how it makes Denali wince. “Soon,” he amends before jogging to catch up to her - knowing the sun will do little to improve her mood.

“Sleepover it is,” Rosé sighs to herself, unlocking the car from a distance and watching as he helps Denali into the passenger seat - all too aware that the last time she was in the backseat with a migraine, it went terribly. She smiles, she’s not sure how she got so lucky.

*

Da da da da da da

Da da da da da da

Everything is perfect

Da da da da da da

Da da da da da da

All our words were worth it

*

Mik’s been going to the gym to cope wth his dysphoria, and it shows in the way his shoulders are getting broader and his muscles more defined. An extra bonus is the way it means he can cradle Denali in his arms, carrying her easily up the stairs. He lets her rest her head in the crook of his neck and relents when she tries to get him into bed with her, curling around her and sending Rosé off to search for Denali’s rescue meds.

She brings a glass of water and a sticky cold patch with her, which she applies gently to Denali’s forehead, coaxing a whimper out of her. They get her to swallow the pill, and then Rosé closes the curtains, padding around quietly before sliding into the bed next to them both.

Neither quite know what they would do if Denali’s migraines made her sensitive to touch as well as light and sound (they’re all too affectionate to try and withhold touch), but they’ve lived through enough of them that they know that with a dose of medication and a few hours in the dark she tends to be good as new.

They’re right, though the attack does relegate them to ordering pizza and eating it in Rosé’s ridiculously large bed (or at least this is the excuse they use on her mum when she looks at them disapprovingly).

Denali presses a kiss to Rosé’s bare shoulder and the pink-haired girl rolls over, placing a hand next to each of her shoulders and hovering above Denali with a wicked grin until Mik pokes his finger into her side and she collapses. Denali lets out a yelp, but she’s giggling while Rosé curses them both for ruining her moment.

“No funny business while Nali’s drugged up,” Mik reminds her gently - a rule they had to put into place after they made the side effects of her meds ten times worse due to some rougher activities.

It’s a situation that they’re not particularly willing to repeat.

Rosé rolls over Denali again until she’s in between them, sighing contentedly when Mik rests his head on her chest. “Movie?” she asks quietly.

“Disney!” Denali suggests, before wincing ever so slightly at the pitch of her own voice. She runs a hand through Mik’s hair and then places her head on Rosé’s other shoulder.

“I’m down for that,” Mik agrees.

“UP?”

“That’s Pixar, god, Rosie, know your animated films.”

“Potato, Potato,” Rosé replies, clicking on the title on Disney+ before tossing the remote to the side.

They don’t mention Rosé crying when Ellie dies.

They fall asleep to the end credits.

*

Da da da da da da

Da da da da da da

Dancing around like a clown at the circus

Da da da da da da

Da da da da da da

Backyard boy, you make me nervous

*

Mik wakes up to aching in his lower abdomen and it sends a shiver of fear down his spine. His boxers feel slightly damp, and he’s grateful that he fell asleep with his head on Rosé’s chest.

He flips the soft comforter over so he can see the sheets, and the sight of the blood makes him more nauseous than his cramps. He weighs his options for a second before gently stroking Denali’s cheek with a sigh.

“Baby,” he says with a quick glance at Rosé’s lit up alarm clock. It’s four am. “Uh, Nali.” Denali lifts her head from Rosé’s shoulder and blinks her eyes expectantly. They’re bleary and she lifts a hand to rub at them before she properly focuses on Mik.

In the dim room, she can see the dark patch on the white bottom sheet and she gently palms his face.

“Let’s get you cleaned up love,” she says with an apologetic smile. He nods and watches as she rolls out of the wide double and swiftly locates the pair of period pants he keeps in a hidden pocket of his duffle. She looks between them and a tampon before tossing the tampon onto Rosé’s desk and then hands them to Mik, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. “Go on, love.” She nods towards the bathroom and he smiles weakly, watching her shake Rosé awake with a gentle hand.

When he gets back, the bedside lamps are on and Rosé is stripping the bed, tossing the spoiled sheets into a pile on the floor. When he looks around for Denali, she stops and walks over to him, palming his chest over his t-shirt and snuggling into him the best she can with the small height difference.

“She’s gone to get the Nurofen and a hot water bottle,” she tells him - voice hoarse from sleep.

“I’m sorry-” Mik starts to say, but Rosé cuts him off with a steady hand on the side of his head.

“You don’t have to apologise for anything Gottlieb,” she asserts firmly. “It’s a natural thing that happens to bodies and you wouldn’t let me or Nali say shit if it were us-”

She looks sternly.

“-would you?” He nods in acquiescence and jumps a little when he feels a warm hand on his upper arm. He smells the coconut shampoo of Nali’s hair before he sees her.

“You wouldn’t let Rosie apologise when she bled on your favourite hoodie,” reminds Denali softly, handing him two tablets and a small tumbler of water before exchanging them for a hot water bottle. He sighs when he tucks it into his abdomen, and they make him sit at Rosé’s desk while they bustle around sorting out new bedsheets.

Rosé’s mum pops her head round the door at one point, causing Mik to flush red, though Denali waves her off. “Don’t worry about this, Mrs McCorkel.” She smiles wearily. “Periods.” She shrugs, and Rosé’s mum laughs, shutting the door with a low thud.

They all crawl back into bed, Rosé insisting on spooning him from behind while he holds Denali close. She presses her lips to the back of his neck, and he can feel her smile into the skin.

“You’re my favourite man, handsome,” she states, warmth in her voice. “I love you.”

He buries his face into Denali’s hair and lets the warmness lull him back to sleep.

*

Dance with me in my backyard, boy

Looking super fine in your corduroy (five, six, seven, eight)

Roll the windows down

Let the base drop low

And everybody’s talking

But I don’t wanna know

*

Denali yelps, pulling back from where she’d been straddling Mik in such a way that makes them both fall off the window seat and tumble onto the floor. Rosé looks over at them and scowls, a highlighter in her hand. She makes an obscene gesture with it and then sets it down.

“Can you two be horndogs literally anywhere else,” she asks, exasperated, and they both fall into giggles.

“I’m sorry!” Denali squeals as Mik runs a hand down her side. “Your boyfriend just gave me carpet burn from his damn moustache.”

Mik looks up, somewhere between awestruck and dazed.

“Maybe it’s retaliation for you giving me rug burn,” Rosé quips with a wink before looking at their boyfriend, who’s doing a perfect meerkat expression. Before she can blink, he’s on his feet and running towards the bathroom, where they hear a sharp squeak of excitement.

She holds a hand out to Denali who pulls her out of her chair, and they let their interlocked fingers swing together as they wander over to follow him.

In the middle of the counter, next to three empty vials of testosterone, is Mik. His eyes wide and unblinking, fingers stretching the skin of his upper lip so he can pinpoint a single pale brown hair.

Denali places a featherlight kiss on his exposed shoulder and then reaches to touch it, pulling back in mock anguish.

“Ouch!” she shouts, and Rosé stifles a giggle at her antics, rubbing a hand on Mik’s back to try and gauge how he’s feeling. He sighs into the touch and his shoulders relax a bit.

“That’s one special little dude you’ve got there, bubs,” she tells him with a look of pride on her face. “I think it needs a name.”

Denali looks at her and shakes her head, but Mik is already nodding slowly. “Jeremy,” he says, voice full of conviction.

“We’re not naming his face pube,” Denali fights back, hoisting herself up onto the counter so she can look closer. She ruffles his hair with her fingers and he swats her away.

“Two against one, love,” Rosé points out. “Jeremy the destroyer.”

She leans up and kisses his top lip. “There is now a fourth in this relationship,” she announces smugly, raising an eyebrow at Denali, who holds her hands up. Mik looks between the two of them in amusement.

“I’m not going to kiss the face pube-”

“He has a name,” Rosé cuts her off with a grin.

“I’m not going to kiss Jeremy the destroyer,” Denali responds petulantly, throwing a slightly damp flannel at her from beside the sink.

“Do you not support your boyfriend?” Rosé catches it and tries to throw it back, but Mik grabs it out of the air, holding onto it so he doesn’t get one in the face.

“Rosie McCorkel, you little bitch.”

Mik watches them, dismayed, but incredibly entertained. “Fucking lesbians,” he mutters under his breath, still smiling.

*

Feel the fresh air

I can feel your eyes stare

And I’m not gonna lie

I get a little bit scared

And my heart is on wings

I’m living in dreams

And at the top of our lungs, we sing

*

Denali smiles at him as she slips out of the glass door, wincing a little as her bare feet touch the sun-bleached patio stones. He feels Rosé flick some water at him from her place in the pool, but he flips her off, beckoning to Denali, who does an awkward little hop-scotch across the hot yard until she can slide down next to him on the sun-lounger.

He places a gentle hand on her exposed hip, but she clicks her tongue at him. “Mikkk,” she whines, and he places a kiss on her temple before he slides off the sun lounger and moves down to sit on the edge of the pool.

It’s such a hot day that even the lukewarm water on his legs feels like an ice bath, and he desperately wants to take his baggy shirt off, but the idea of sitting outdoors in a sports bra makes him squirm a little. Rosé’s neighbours could see.

She seems to catch his discomfort and she swims up to him, placing one hand on each of his thighs to hold herself up in the water.

“You’re so short,” he teases gently, but she just hoists herself up, straining her neck to place a wet kiss on his chin. She snorts into it and falls backwards, flailing in the water so he gets covered in a fine spray.

“You need to calm down,” he tells her, hearing Denali chuckle in the background.

“Come and make me,” Rosé replies as she swims further away. She tries to shake her ass at him - skimpy pink bikini bottoms pulled high up onto her hips - but she falls forward, head going under the water again.

“Did she ever learn to swim?” Denali asks between loud slurps of ice-cold lemonade, the book she was reading in the shade long forgotten.

“I really couldn’t tell you.”

He turns back to the pool and sees Rosé sitting on one of the bottom steps, hair ties in hand as she tries to braid her thick, pink hair - her fingers fumbling in an attempt that can only be deemed pitiful. He sighs, moving to sit behind her so his swimming trunks are completely submerged. She leans back into him gratefully, and he takes the hair bobbles willingly, weaving her two french braids.

He’s about to move after he finishes when he hears wet footsteps.

“Don’t run, love!” calls Rosé, paddling next to Mik so she’s leaning on the edge of the pool. Denali just scoffs, skidding on the water until she can dive straight into the deep end of the pool. He winces as she does it, hand reaching out to grip Rosé’s, but they both know that her ice-skater balance will save her. She does a messy front stroke over to her partners, her costume glittering in all of its tacky-mermaid glory.

Denali slides between his legs and tips her head back for a kiss, pouting until he gives her a chaste kiss, and then indulging Rosé, who scrunches her nose at the momentary lack of affection.

Mik sighs, pulling Denali’s long hair out of the messy bun it’s in and separating it into two. “Thank you, Mik, we love you, Mik, you’re the best boyfriend ever, Mik,” he moans, letting his fingers slide through her hair like silk.

Rosé tries to hide her laughter in a cough.

It doesn’t work.

*

Da da da da da da

Da da da da da da

Everything is perfect

Da da da da da da

Da da da da da da

All our words were worth it

*

The euphoria he feels with a pride flag wrapped around his shoulders, billowing behind him like a cape, is unreal. He feels like he could fly if he wasn’t holding hands with Denali, who’s keeping him firmly grounded, and he’s making sure she doesn’t run off and get lost while Rosé has gone to find drinks.

Luckily, they see her before she sees them - Mik is a full head taller than Denali in his platform combat boots and can just about see over the crowd, so he spots the glitter down Rosé’s parting. She’s carrying three plastic cups with straws, and she’s trailed by a sapphic pride flag that’s looped through her belt loops, so it surrounds her denim cut-offs like a skirt.

They’d had a long conversation about the flag - she and Mik sat on the porch with coffee in hand. She’d bought it before they got together and she’s right when she says it looks pretty with her hair - the shades of pink all muddling together until she looks like a ball of cotton candy. He’d smiled and taken her hand in his, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her hair that still smelled of sleep and Denali’s perfume.

“I know you think of me as a man,” he’d said, feeling her squeeze his hand in acknowledgement, “and I know you like women.”

“I just don’t want you to feel left out,” she’d said, poking her tongue into her coffee to check its temperature before taking a long sip. Denali padded out onto the porch, bare feet on the wooden slats. She was wrapped in a tartan blanket and she sat down next to Mik with a huff, laying her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes.

“I’ll survive not being the centre of your attention babe,” he’d joked. And that had been it.

It was the right thing to say because she looks radiant in the sun, and he takes the cold peach lemonade gratefully, handing off Nali-watch to Rosé as he adjusts his trans flag in a shop window.

He re-ties Denali’s bi flag while he’s at it, looping it through the straps of her dungarees so it won’t come loose in the crowd. She turns around and smiles gratefully, placing a soft hand on his barely-there stubble.

Rosé called them disgusting when she first saw them this morning, side by side in their matching crop tops and dungaree shorts. He’s got his own over a nude binder, and it’s the closest he’s ever felt to being shirtless, even with the way his chest is sweating in the summer heat. He knows Rosé’s rucksack has a spare top and bra for him - it’s a part of the reason why he loves her.

“All good?” Rosé asks, adjusting one of the pins in Denali’s flower crown (pink, blue and white) out of habit. She presses a quick kiss to the tip of Denali’s nose and then checks her braids in the shop window too.

“Am I still on Nali-watch?” Mik asks, half-joking and offering his arm for her to take, to which Denali laughs and waves her hand.

“I can get places myself, guys,” she giggles.

“You absolutely cannot,” Mik tells her, raking his hand through his sweaty curls.

“Not if we wanna get there on time,” chimes in Rosé, taking Denali’s hand and swinging it between them. “Now, come on!”

*

Da da da da da da

Da da da da da da

Dancing around like a clown at the circus

Da da da da da da

Da da da da da da

*

“We have a present for you,” Denali tells him, watching him comb hair gel through his curls in an attempt to tame them before he puts his graduation cap on. He smiles, watching her in the mirror as she curls the back of Rosé’s hair with deft fingers. Rosé flicks her eyes up from the eyeshadow palette she’s looking at, a small smirk playing on her lips, and she goes to say something, but then she stops herself.

“Well, now I’m excited,” he tells them, placing his tie loosely around his neck and leaning back against the countertop, watching them adoringly.

It’s moments like this that he just can’t believe his luck - how he’s got two beautiful women to call his own. Denali is a vision in lilac - a fitted bodice moving into a flared skirt that reminds him of the skating videos her mum showed him at Christmas. Her newly bleached hair is in a braid over her shoulder, and the loose baby hairs that just won’t submit to hair spray make him want to tuck them gently behind her ear.

Rosé resolutely told them she wanted them to die for her, and she’s really trying in a pink, bardot dress that shows too much cleavage to be appropriate for graduation. He supposes she wants to go out with a bang, and he’s not complaining, but he might need a moment before they leave just to collect himself.

“You look flustered,” smirks Rosé with one eyebrow quirked. It pulls him out of his throughs, and he flushes a darker shade of red at the comment.

“Stop teasing him,” Denali tells her, moving to put on some lip gloss before he can steal one last kiss. “I wanna get onto the surprise.”

“Impatient baby,” Mik jokes to get the heat off himself, and she bats a blush brush at him. He’s about to respond when Rosé places a hand on his cheek, guiding his body around so she can fasten his navy blue tie.

“Be good,” she tells him with a tap on the nose. “Now stay here for a second.”

He waits quietly in the bathroom while his girlfriends hurry off, coming back after a few minutes with an envelope and a tentative look on both of their faces. Denali hangs back, leaning against the doorframe with a crinkled nose while Rosé moves forward and holds out the envelope. She waves it at him and he takes it, feeling its weight in his hands. It’s light, but there’s something about it. He can’t figure out what it is.

He shoves a makeup brush under the seal and rips it across, drawing a snigger out of Denali, and Rosé rolls her eyes at them, holding out her hand for her makeup brush because she doesn’t trust him with it.

He holds it out of apprehension and he hears someone click their tongue at him with impatience.

Slowly, Mik pulls out a single sheet of paper and his breath hitches.

“No,” he exhales, feeling his tailbone hit the edge of the countertop in a way he knows will hurt later. He blinks a couple of times and the envelope falls out of his hands, grabbed by Denali who swoops in, placing a warm palm on his upper arm.

“Yes,” replies Rosé, a smile in her voice.

It’s a GoFundMe receipt printed on flimsy copy paper totalling just over $5000. He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“The whole year pitched in - the school really,” Denali murmurs, her hand on him a grounding presence that keeps him tethered to this reality.

“I don’t know what to say.” He’s being totally honest, voice shaking under the weight of his emotions. It’s everything he’s ever wanted and he’d resigned himself to another four or five years without that. “It’s freedom.”

“You deserve it, love,” Rosé tells him, her smile softer than he’s seen in a while - softer than she tends to go without Denali pouting at her.

Denali reaches up and swipes the pad of her thumb under his eye to catch the tears he didn’t know were falling before straightening his tie and placing a firm hand on his chest.

“Come on handsome,” she tells him, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

*

Backyard boy, you make me nervous

[bss-babygirl]

Late Night Study Sessions

Trent Seven x reader

Warnings: Fluff

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added/removed!): @lilred91 @beautybyfire @pleasantlyshamelesswizard @rebellious-desires @punkgoddess-98

AN: HI GUYS!!! Sorry I’ve been a little MIA when it comes to writing on this blog, I kinda hit writer’s block and then was overwhelmed with school with it being my senior year and all. But anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this cute fanfic!

It’s currently 2 AM and you are sitting at your desk, cramming for your Anatomy and Physiology Midterm tomorrow. You’re beyond stressed out because, you have the pass the midterm in order to receive credit for the course. It’s also your senior year, and so being this close to graduating; you put yourself under a lot of pressure to do well.

Trent normally hates it when you do these late-night study sessions because, he knows how unhealthy it is on you and your body when you don’t give yourself the proper rest you need. Luckily for you, you didn’t have to sneak around to be able to get this study session in, since Trent was currently out working out at the gym with Tyler. This gave you plenty of time to get as much studying in as you possibly could before he gets back, whenever that may be.

In school right now, your professor has covered 7 units, meaning you need to study all seven because, who knew what he was going to put on the midterm. So far in your studying, you’ve only covered 3 units; you still had 4 more to go, you look at your phone to check the time, it’s currently 2:13. You don’t know when Trent exactly left, since he left while you were still asleep.

Right at that moment, you hear keys turning to unlock the door; and soon after, Trent’s voice ringing through the apartment. You sighed, mentally frustrated at yourself because now he’s home, and you weren’t even halfway done with your studies. Right at that moment, your cheerful boyfriend walks into your bedroom to see you in your current stressed out state. He was about to ask what was wrong but stopped when he saw all your books and flashcards spaced out all over your desk surface. “Hey baby!” You let out a sigh. “Baby, what’s wrong my love?” Tears started to well up in your eyes, “I’m stressed Trent, I have this huge midterm on Monday that I need to study for, and I’m not even halfway done covering all the material I need to study.” Trent walked up to you, and began to rub soft circles around both your shoulders. “Well, I know it’s 2 AM, but do you wanna go for a drive? It’s a nice night, we could roll the windows down, and listen to music while I drive.” You were about to protest because you needed to finish studying, but Trent cut you off, “And before you worry about the fact that you need to finish studying, don’t worry about that. I will help you study some more tomorrow, yeah?” You nodded. “You did well Love, I’m proud of you!” Trent’s comment made you blush. “Alright let’s go.”

End

[tpwk-giannablog]

Blog #1, basically just a bunch of word vomit.

“I can’t do this.” 

This is what I say to myself every time I sit down to work on my assignments for College Composition. Out of all my classes, this class is by far the hardest class I have ever taken. Every time there is a new assignment I can only think about how much I want to drop this class and how much of a toll it is having on my mental health. I want to succeed in school, I want to have good grades, and I absolutely do not want to be a quitter. But OMG when I tell you this class is hell on earth I mean it from the bottoms of my toes to the top of my head with 0 hesitation. My teacher is a lovely and powerful woman, I look up to her truly. I understand that she also only wants to see us succeed in her class. I also understand that this is not a high school course, it’s a college course, meaning this is the real deal and it won’t be getting any easier than this any time soon. I love my teacher, she is a great person to talk to and bond over literature and school activities. I just wish her class was easier because right now I am drowning and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to reach the surface again. Right now we are in the middle of our second unit and it is nowhere near easier than the last unit, in fact it is way harder. When I first found out about these blogs I was pissed, I thought it was totally unnecessary to assign us a completely different writing assignment alongside our already hard enough writing units. I still believe this to be true, I wish I could choose to only have one of them but right now I am actually happy that we have these blogs to do but I am only using it as a distraction from my annotated bibliography. This isn’t really a good thing though because in the end I am still going to have to find a way to finish my annotated bibliography on time. On the bright side at least I can say that I completed my first blog…many weeks late but that’s not the point! Don’t even get me started on the actual literary analysis essay, as if the prospectus and the bibliography aren’t hard enough I need to mash it all together to form a 5-7 page long essay. At this point, with only 150 words done on my annotated bibliography I feel I’ve already exhausted this topic. How can I possibly write 5 pages about it now? I never truly understood what senioritis was but I definitely have it. Everyone says I only have 3 more months of this but those 3 months cannot go by any sooner. In those 3 months I still have to do all of this pointless work. I just want to be done already, I want only 3 more months of easy filler classes like astronomy, broadcast journalism, gym class, etc. Instead I have to deal with 2 college courses and an independent living class who’s teacher gives us a new assignment every day and work day maybe once a month. I thought college composition was going to be beneficial to me, it would give me college credit and take up my final english credit that I needed to become a distinguished warrior, you're welcome mom, and I thought it would help improve my writing skills. I definitely needed that last part because I am a terrible writer, believe me. And this blog doesn’t count, it’s basically a diary entry. Instead of all those benefits I was hoping for I’ve just become depressed, stressed, and unmotivated to do anything. So far this blog has been nothing but a huge rant about how much I hate college composition and senior year in general but there have been a few good things. Gym class has always been my favorite class, I love fitness and I love feeling tough. That has only increased since starting the second semester of senior year. When I started the year in august I was not going to be on the track team so my gym teacher suggested I join a different gym class to offer up a spot in strength to an actual athlete. It kind of broke my heart that he didn’t want me in strength anymore but I still made the switch. I ended up joining track again a couple days later but it was too late to go back to strength. Cut to the second semester, I’m back in strength and my lifting partner is one of my best friends. It’s only February but I’m already seeing results, physically and mentally. I’ve found an ever higher appreciation for fitness and I’m super excited for this track season. But remember it’s not that simple, I have to keep good grades to participate in sports and this class is going to be the death of me.

[canarygirl1017]

Hands On Me - Chapter 1

Pairing: Reader / Jungkook

Genre:  College!au, fluff, mild angst, smut 

Length:  4,341k  words

Warnings:  language, sexual themes 

Summary:  You’d never had much luck with relationships, and experience had taught you to shy away from physical intimacy. But when you started dating your neighbor, Jungkook, you began to think he was worth the risk. College AU. 

A/N:  Next chapter coming soon. I originally wrote this a few months ago based on a prompt I got from my writer’s group. It was supposed to be college based romance, couple’s first time together, mildly angsty, and include the dialogue “Do you want to break up?” I sort of vaguely pictured JK when I was writing the male lead, at least visually, so I thought I would post it as a reader fan fic, which I’ve never written before. I usually write Marvel fan fic at AO3 in third person (not second person) so this isn’t as natural for me. Also, this is just for funsies because I don’t do real life shipping with real life people, though I do enjoy reading some of the well written fics I’ve seen in the fandom. If people enjoy this one, I might post more as I have a lot of short story prompts I’ve written for my club and don’t do anything with. 

Chapter 1

Snuggled up on the sofa watching TV together was how you spent most evenings with your boyfriend, Jungkook. You did a quick clean that morning in anticipation of him coming over since he seemed to prefer being in your space, though it hardly mattered; home was just a few doors down regardless of which apartment you chose to spend time together in.

You shifted your attention from the book you were reading to Jungkook’s profile, fingers itching to trace the sharp jawline that attracted so many women to the gym where he worked as a part-time trainer while he finished university. He also needed a haircut, but he’d shrugged off the suggestion when you mentioned it earlier that week. The slightly longer, inky black locks suited him though.

He was focused on the basketball game that had gone into overtime, his thumb absentmindedly stroking against your hip as you leaned against him. Being close to him was a double-edged sword lately and a reminder that he hadn’t really touched you in a while. Not since that night a few weeks ago.

When you first started dating three months ago, he’d been very physical with you. Dates that ended with kisses at the door had quickly turned into dates that ended with making out on the sofa at his apartment or yours. But during one very heated session on his sofa you got nervous, suddenly worried that things were moving too fast, and you pulled back. To his credit, Jungkook backed off immediately, assuring you that he was fine with following a slower pace.

Your high school boyfriend had pushed for sex and against your better judgment, you’d slept with him after the senior winter formal, only to be devastated when he moved on less than a month later. Similarly, your last boyfriend had been very pushy about sex, and your reluctance was a bone of contention between you until he broke it off.

At twenty-two, Jungkook was a year older, and you knew that he was much more experienced. You’d been neighbors for almost a year now, and you’d seen several of the girls he dated coming and going during that time. You’d never spoken to one another outside the occasional hello in passing until the night you came back from work to find your ex-boyfriend, Mike, drunk and pounding on your door.

Since you didn’t want to let him into your apartment, you stood outside to talk to him. Apparently offended that you wouldn’t let him in, he’d begun berating you loudly enough to have a few neighbors popping their heads out to see what was going on. And in the middle of that embarrassing situation, Jungkook and his friend walked up.

“Hey y/n,” Jungkook said. “Sorry we’re late.”

He slipped an arm around your waist, startling you, though you couldn’t deny you were grateful for the interruption.

His friend chimed in, holding up a takeout bag. “We brought dinner.” You’d seen him around campus and remembered that his name was Jimin.

Mike had eyed Jungkook, as if sizing up a potential fight. But while he had an inch or two on Jungkook in height, Jungkook was all lean muscle and without question the stronger of the two. So, he had backed off, but not before firing off a parting shot. “Good luck with the virgin. Cold fish bitch.”

Your cheeks were burning as he walked away.

Jimin broke the silence. “What an asshole. Does he do this a lot?”

You shook your head. “This is the first time I’ve seen him since we broke up.” You could only assume the alcohol had made him think that you were a potential booty call.  

Jungkook frowned as he stepped out of your personal space. “Sorry if I overstepped. I know it’s not my business, but I didn’t like the way he was crowding you at the door and yelling at you.”

“No, I appreciate you getting rid of him,” you answered. “Thank you.”

Jimin held up the takeout bag again. “We really do have dinner. Do you want to join us? Maybe it’s better if you’re not here alone in case he decides to come back.”

You hesitated, but then your stomach growled, a reminder that you hadn’t eaten since breakfast because of a hectic day of classes followed by work at the campus library.

Jungkook smiled. “We’ll take that as a yes.”

You became friends with Jungkook after that night. It was amazing how quickly you’d felt comfortable around him. He was kind and friendly, and he frequently helped the elderly residents of your building. Then one night after he’d shown up at the campus library and walked you the few blocks home, he kissed you. It marked the beginning of your new relationship, and you’d been inseparable ever since.

Unlike the few other guys you had dated, Jungkook had never directly brought up the topic of sex, nor had he pushed for it. You’d had a brief conversation one night about your respective exes. You knew he’d had one serious relationship that ended when he moved away for college and the long-distance relationship proved to be too much of a strain. He’d only dated casually since then, though you’d seen some of his overnight guests leaving his apartment the morning after.

Jungkook knew you’d had a boyfriend in high school, but you hadn’t gone into the details of the breakup. Though it was several years in the past, that rejection still stung, and you didn’t like to talk about it. He’d never asked about Mike other than to ensure you weren’t being harassed. You supposed the drunken scene he and Jimin had witnessed was explanation enough.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you failed to notice the game had ended until Jungkook spoke. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

You looked up to see him watching you, an unreadable expression on his face. “Doing what?”

“Completely zoning out,” he replied with a half-smile. “Is something bothering you?” His chocolate brown eyes studied you intently.

“No,” you said quickly. Maybe too quickly because you could tell he didn’t quite believe you. His tongue pushed against his cheek, something he did when he was thinking about how to deal with a problem.

After a moment, he nodded. “Okay.” He stood up and stretched. “I should get going. I have an early client tomorrow.”

Saturdays were always busy at his gym, and he sometimes worked longer hours on the weekends. “Do you have clients tomorrow night?”

“One,” he confirmed as he pulled on his leather jacket. “Jen’s birthday party is tomorrow, right?”

You nodded as you walked to the door with him. “We’ll be at Carmen’s.” Jen had been planning her birthday for months and wanted a venue with good food, music and dancing. The trendy bar had only been open for about a year, but it was popular for the menu, which included themed cocktails, and the Latin music. You’d been looking at salsa dancing tutorials on YouTube because you were sure that your best friend would insist on hitting the dance floor.

“Okay. Jimin and I will swing by around ten.”

Jimin and Jen were involved in a casual flirtation that they both enjoyed, though you weren’t so sure it was really going anywhere. Jimin was a handsome transfer student studying modern dance, which took up a lot of his time, much to the disappointment of the single girls on campus. And for the two years you’d been friends, you had never known Jen to date anyone seriously. Still, Jen had heavily hinted that she wanted Jimin to come to her birthday party, and so you had told Jungkook to bring him.

“Okay.” You tilted your head back as he leaned down to kiss you goodbye.

You loved kissing him – the way his hands settled on your hips, and the way the first gentle brush of his lips against yours always gave way to slow, deep kisses. Your hands drifted down his chest to his waist, clutching the material of his t-shirt to ground yourself.

It would be so easy to get swept away. By the heat that flared between you. By your feelings. You knew without a doubt that you had fallen hard for him.

Jungkook pulled back, kissing the top of your head before releasing you. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You closed the door behind him and locked up, leaning your head against it for a moment. You were beginning to regret letting him leave every night even if you weren’t sure if you were ready for more. You wanted more, but you were afraid of it too. And you had no idea what to do about it.

_________________________________________

 You nibbled your bottom lip as you sat on Jen’s bed, watching your friend dig through her closet. “Do you think I should…” you paused, wondering how to broach this topic. While Jen had few conversational barriers, you were more hesitant to talk about sex.

“Should what?” Jen asked, her tone distracted as she pulled out another dress and tossed it over the chair at her desk. She tapped her well-manicured nails against the wall as she studied the contents of her closet before pulling out another dress and dropping it on the chair.

You glanced at the pile of dresses accumulating on the chair. “I thought you were going to wear that new dress you bought last week?”

“This isn’t for me,” Jen stated. “This is for you.”

You failed to contain a snort of laughter. “You’re like six inches taller than me. And I have a dress.” It wasn’t new, and Jen had complained that the dark color washed you out the last time you wore it. But unlike Jen, whose wealthy parents supplied her with credit cards and charge accounts around the city, you couldn’t afford to waste money on clothes. Your parents helped when they could, but you also had three younger siblings still at home and college was only possible because of your scholarships. Living in the city was also expensive; if not for Jungkook contributing to your groceries since you often ate together, you’d probably be eating ramen five nights a week.

“And I’m a fashion design student, so I have time to alter one of these. If I have to see you in that funeral dress again, I’m going to burn it. Worse, do you really want Jungkook to see you in it?” she shuddered as she tossed another dress on the chair. “Okay, I think these are the best options. Now, what were you asking? Do I think you should what?”

You hadn’t considered that Jungkook might also hate that dress. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see what Jen had in mind. Arguing with her was next to impossible anyway.

You helped Jen hang the dresses on a clothes rack in the corner so you could see them better. “Do you think I should sleep with Jungkook?”

Jen raised a brow as she glanced over at you. “Hell yes. Have you talked about it?”

You shook your head. “No. I kind of… I don’t know. Freaked out a little bit a few weeks ago when we were kissing and stuff. It seemed like we were headed there, and I wasn’t sure I was ready, and I know I totally pulled a one eighty on him. And now he barely touches me.”

“Huh.” Jen considered that for a minute. “So things are weird now? Are you afraid he’s going to break up with you or something?”

You hadn’t really thought about that. “I wasn’t, but now that you said it, maybe.” You had mostly been worried that if you broke up after sleeping together, he’d be that much harder to get over because you knew that you’d be more attached to him then than you already were. But maybe that worry – that he would leave because you were holding back – had been there all along.

“I’m not saying he would do that,” Jen hurried to add. “I’ve seen how he acts around you, and how he looks at you. I really think he’s one of the good ones. But with your past experiences, I can see why you’d be worried. Has he ever been pushy about it?”

“No, never. When I told him that I thought we were moving too fast, he said he’d follow my pace. Only now, we’ve just kind of stalled out.”

“I guess he’s waiting for you to do something then. Like give him a signal that you want more.”

That could be it too. “I don’t really know how,” you admitted. “I have one night’s experience to draw from, and that was years ago.”

“That wasn’t an experience, y/n, that was a sexual travesty.”

You couldn’t argue with that. “He’s experienced though. I’m sure he knows how to make it good for me, but I don’t know how to do that for him. What if I’m bad in bed?”

“First of all, you have no idea how you are in bed because you’re practically still a virgin. Second, men are easier to please when it comes to sex anyway. Jungkook likes you. It’s easy to tell that he has real feelings for you, so I think there’s zero chance that he wouldn’t like sex with you. You really need to talk to him about it.”

You felt your cheeks heat up just thinking about trying to talk to him about this. “I know. I’m just embarrassed.”

Jen rolled her eyes. “If you can’t talk about it, you probably shouldn’t be doing it. Or I guess you could take the easier route and wear something that does the seduction for you. Like this.” She held up a deep red halter neck dress. The low neckline and back ensured maximum skin exposure. Jen was tall and had long, dark hair so on her, it probably looked fabulous.

Eyeing the dress with skepticism, you said, “That dress is your style, not mine. I’ve never worn anything like that before.” Your style could best be described as casual. On date night, you managed flirty casual, and Jungkook didn’t seem to have any complaints. This dress was on a whole other level, though.

“We can make it your style. I’ll make sure it’s not too revealing if that’s what you’re worried about.” When you still hesitated, Jen added, “Come on, Jungkook will forget how to talk when he sees you in this. I guarantee that you won’t have any trouble getting him into bed if that’s what you decide you want.”

The idea of surprising Jungkook with something like this was appealing. Maybe shaking up your image for one night would give you the confidence to talk to him about your relationship.

_____________________________________

 Jungkook stifled a yawn as he entered Carmen’s. It had been an exceptionally long day, and he wished this was a regular Saturday night like the ones he usually spent with his girlfriend, y/n. He liked being in your apartment because your sofa was comfortable, you had an old record player and some killer albums that you’d collected since middle school, and your essential oil candles made everything smell nice.

Jimin had been teasing him for a couple of months now, calling him domesticated. He supposed he was because before meeting you, he rarely spent a Saturday night in. If someone had told him then that he’d soon trade beers at his favorite bar for candles and snuggling on the sofa, he would have laughed.

And since Jimin rarely got him out on a weekend anymore, and Jen had equal complaints about you, he doubted either of you would get away with ducking out early.

“Are they upstairs or downstairs?” Jimin asked.

“Downstairs, I think,” he replied.

He let Jimin lead the way. It was crowded downstairs, and he first searched the booths and bar area, expecting to find you chatting with friends. You always said dancing in public made you feel awkward unless you were drunk, and since your alcohol tolerance was low, you usually didn’t drink much.

“I see Jen on the dance floor,” Jimin said. “Did you find her?”

“No.” Jungkook scanned the dance floor, briefly pausing on a petite girl wearing a red dress before looking back at the booths. “Maybe she’s in the bathroom.” He pulled out his phone to call you.  

“Wait, is that y/n?” Jimin suddenly asked.  

Jungkook glanced up from his phone. “Where?”

“That girl in the red dress.”

He looked back at the dance floor for the girl in red, ready to deny it. Except she’d turned around now, and Jimin was right. Holy shit.

“Damn. I know I’ve been giving you a hard time lately, calling you domesticated. I’ll shut up now because if I knew I was taking her home later, I’d be domesticated too.”

Jungkook glared at Jimin. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”

Jimin’s expression was sheepish. “Sorry, man. I’m going to hell for impure thoughts, but so are half the guys hanging around her. You might want to worry more about them.”

Jungkook was already on the move as he’d noticed the same thing. Shouldering past two guys trying to dance up behind you, he gave them a look that ensured they backed off. Your back was facing him, and he swallowed hard as his eyes drifted down from your shoulders. The dress draped in the small of your back, leaving a bare expanse of skin, and his fingers literally itched to touch you.

He gave in to the urge, sliding his hand along your waist lightly to get your attention. You turned your head, brows furrowed as you flinched away from the unexpected touch. But when you saw it was him, you smiled and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“You’re here,” you said, tilting your head back to look at him. “I’ve been waiting forever.”

He smiled at your uncharacteristically dramatic tone. “Sorry. I forgot my bag, so I had to run home to change. Are you having fun?” You were pressed close against him on the crowded dance floor, and he was enjoying the feeling of your small body against his. He let his hands settle on your hips, thumbs rubbing light circles. You shivered in response. “Are you cold?”

“No. That just feels good,” you said with a sigh. You toyed with the top button of his long-sleeved white Henley.

He wasn’t used to you being that direct about what you liked. And when your hands suddenly wandered under his leather jacket and ran up his back, he suppressed a shiver of his own. “I think you’re drunk, baby.” He pulled you closer, trying to ignore the teasing glimpse of cleavage revealed by your dress. Your hair drifted around your pale shoulders in loose waves, and all he could think about was running his fingers through it as he kissed you.  

“Maybe a little bit,” you admitted, scrunching your nose as you smiled up at him. “The cocktails are really good here.”

God, you were adorable. He’d never met another girl that he wanted to simultaneously fuck senseless but also protect and cuddle, though the former urge was winning out tonight. He’d never imagined you wearing a dress like this, and he knew it would be fueling his fantasies for quite some time. It had to be Jen’s influence, though he certainly wasn’t complaining.

As if reading his thoughts, Jen suddenly sidled past him on her way to the bar. “You’re welcome.”

For the next three hours, you divided your time between the dance floor and the bar, and Jungkook was content to follow behind you. You danced slowly together regardless of the beat, and he finally allowed his hands to stroke your bare back. You kept tilting your head back, inviting his kisses, and he was happy to indulge you. He was so turned on he could hardly think straight, but he knew he needed to keep a tight rein on the situation. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of that night a few weeks before when you had all but run from his apartment.

When you got a bit unsteady on your feet, Jungkook ordered water and fries at the bar before leading you to the booth where Jimin, Jen and a couple of other friends were talking. He could tell you were starting to fade as you finished the water and food. When you yawned and leaned against him, he kissed the top of your head. “I think it’s time we got you home.”

You hummed in agreement. Jen tossed him your jacket from the corner of the booth, and he helped you put it on. The cab ride back home was long enough for you to fall asleep in his arms. He savored every minute, stroking your hair gently, lulled by the sound of your breathing and glad that you had shaken off the pensive mood you’d been in the night before.

Jungkook was observant enough to realize that something was worrying you lately. While it bothered him that you wouldn’t tell him what you were thinking about, he worried that the relationship was still too fragile for him to push when it was obvious that you didn’t want to talk about it. Still, it was becoming increasingly difficult to let it go because he was concerned that it had something to do with him.

He wondered if it was about sex. Ever since that night he’d intervened when your ex showed up drunk, he’d wondered about your relationship with him. Something in the past had made you nervous about physical intimacy, which he’d realized after you ran out of his apartment that night, and he’d been very careful not to do anything that might make you run again. More and more he wished he’d punched that asshole, feeling certain he was somehow to blame. He’d deserved that and more for the name calling alone.

When you arrived home, Jungkook paid the driver and helped you from the car. Upstairs, he unlocked your apartment, smiling when you kicked your heels off and the effort sent you stumbling sideways. He steadied you before removing your jacket and draping it on the arm of the sofa. You walked to your bedroom and he grabbed some water from the kitchen before following you.

“You don’t feel sick, do you?” he asked, placing the water on your nightstand.

You shook your head as you sat on the edge of the bed and reached out a hand to him. “No.”

He took your hand and sat next to you. “You should change before you go to sleep, so you’ll be more comfortable.”

“You like the dress, right?” You nibbled your bottom lip as you peeked up at him through your lashes.

Understatement. “You look beautiful,” Jungkook said quietly, pushing your hair off your shoulder. His breath caught when you turned her cheek toward his palm and rubbed against him like a sleepy kitten.

“Then kiss me,” you whispered.

He hesitated, but you were already reaching for him. The kiss was like throwing a match on kindling. Then you scooted back to lie down and pulled him with you.

This was dangerous and he knew it, but he ignored the niggling little warning in his head because he’d been thinking about kissing you like this all night. He pressed against your soft curves but kept most of his weight off you as slow kisses turned more passionate. And when your hands grew bolder, running across his chest and back and tugging him closer, he gave in to the temptation, pulling you more fully beneath him.

When you parted your thighs, allowing his hips to settle between them, he dropped his head to your shoulder with a groan. Pressing kisses against your neck, he willed himself to calm down. “Baby, we should stop.”

You responded by pushing your hips up against him, and he bit back a curse. He was fully hard now and stopping was the last thing he wanted to do, but he knew it was the right thing. Jungkook braced his weight on his forearms and took a breath as he stared down at you.

“But I want you to stay,” you said, threading your fingers in his hair. Your eyes seemed much darker in the dim light of the bedroom. Your small hands drifted down to his shoulders, kneading, and then moved further down to toy with the hem of his shirt.

Jungkook closed his eyes and took another deep breath, the light fragrance of your perfume doing nothing to help him regain control. As much as he wanted you – had wanted you from the first night he kissed you - he didn’t want your first time together to be after a night of drinking. If there was even the slightest chance that you might regret it later, it wasn’t worth it.

He gave in one last time, kissing the spot beneath your ear that always made you shiver. He darted his tongue out to taste you and then captured your lips for one more long, slow kiss. “Not tonight.”

You didn’t argue anymore, allowing him to pull away. You were quiet as you got up and took some clothes from the dresser before going to the bathroom to change. When you returned, your face was clean, and you wore the usual pajama pants and t-shirt you preferred to sleep in. You didn’t say anything as you slipped past him to crawl back into bed and pull the covers up.

“You’re sure you feel okay?” he asked.

You nodded, your eyes already closed. “I’m just tired.”

He brushed his hand over your hair and leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I’ll lock up on my way out. I’ll give you the key back tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook hesitated for a moment. Something seemed off somehow. Awkward, maybe. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He turned off the light and let himself out, making sure to lock the door behind him.

[janeyseymour]

me shitting on my shithead ex

TWs: abuse, domestic violence, manipulation, panic attacks, probably others... so if this doesn't sound like something you wanna read, feel free to skip.

it’s literally just me bitching about my shithead ex. Mum is not “Mum” here. I’m a cold, bitter person in this. I let my rage out, and truly channel a bitch here. 

Alright listen up mama has a lot of ✨trauma✨

Sooooo…. My life is one big trauma and I love that for me lmao

My family life was shit for a while, and I was a whole shitshow in myself until… well I’m still a shitshow honestly, but uh, we can dive into that another time if you want lmao I have enough baggage to share with this story right here. My family situation is a whole other story lmaoooooooooo 

Well, senior year I meet this boy. And he was real sweet (this is shithead ex).

We dated for 2 1/2 years. 2 1/2 very long years. I wore rose tinted glasses for the first year and a half. Like I said, he was sweet.

Well, for the first 9 months that we dated, he didn’t have a job. He ended up getting a job at a local deli… only to lose said job 2 months later. For the next however long we dated, mans went through 5 other jobs… dick’s sporting goods, a waitress at a local restaurant, real estate agent, caretaker of dogs, and finally working with his father who said if he wasn’t his son he would have fired him too. 

Mans also “went to college” for a semester, failed, and told me that he didn’t know why he wasn’t getting his grades… man didn’t attend classes, didn’t pay for said classes and failed… that’s why.

I was able to overlook this for a while. 1 1/2 years actually.

Well, rose tinted glasses came off on my 19th birthday. My friends wanted to hang out, and he literally stopped me from going. I wasn’t allowed to see my friends because “I don’t like your friends” okay well I didn’t fucking ask… “You’re gonna fuck them” … no I’m not??? They’re like my brothers, and I was in love with him… not them??

All we did was fight from then on… things like “you’re not allowed to wear that… other boys will look at you…” “why would you wear that out? you look like a whore” “why do you insist on eating healthy can’t we just get a burger and be done” “you shouldn’t drink all of that coffee it's bad for you” “why cant you ever stay awake?” “you’re letting yourself go.” “are you fucking kidding me”

Manipulation was strong. I tried to leave so many times but couldn’t. It was the “I can’t live without you babe” and “No one would ever love someone as broken as you”

I was abused for the last year of that relationship because I was so scared that I wasn’t good enough and I would never be capable of being loved again. Because well, he loved me, right? If I left… I don’t really know. (LMAO I really am Jane in this way… and he truly was my HenRat)

And then it got physical. I was going to school full-time, working crazy amounts of hours at my job, and really only had time to see him late at night after work. We would settle in on his couch, and I would either do homework or we would watch television. He didn’t like when I did homework. Oftentimes when we would watch tv, I would fall asleep. I was EXHAUSTED. 18 credits worth of school and babysitting and working at a gym almost full time is a hard feat, let me tell you. He didn’t like that. He would shake me awake. Now, I don’t bruise. I just have a skin complexion where I dont bruise. I would fucking bruise… and he knew it. I would tell him it hurt me. He would do the usual “oh baby I’m so sorry it won’t happen again” only for it to happen again. This led to panic attacks... terrible anxiety. 

And then it was the “come on babe we never do anything anymore” to which I would reply with “can we please just not? I’m tired and I just want to relax”… and he wouldn’t take it for an answer. Rough nights for me… physically, mentally, emotionally.

It took me a year to get out of that relationship. Now, for being as young as I am… that’s a long time. Covid hit, we were all quarantined, and I stopped seeing him (even though I was working in public) because “my dad is high risk”. Best two weeks of my life, not having to see him. I didn’t FaceTime him, I barely even talked to him other than “morning” and “goodnight” texts. I drove to his house one day after work and literally said “we can’t keep doing this. We’re both miserable, and I can’t do this anymore. We have to break up.” And I drove away and never looked back. And I don’t regret it one bit. I do regret not getting out of that relationship sooner.

That being said, it has left me royally fucked. I see every red flag, every hint of any red flag, and I refuse to put myself in that situation again.

I’m genuinely content with the progress I’ve made on myself, and I refuse to let anyone ruin the progress I’ve made.

So, thank you shithead ex for more trauma to add onto my already extensive list of traumatic things that have happened to me. You truly deserve to get wrecked, and I am so much better off without you. I’m better than I ever thought I could be. truly, get fucked. 

Despite all of the absolute SHIT I’ve been put through in this very short time I’ve been alive, I still do my best to come out of it stronger, better, and with as much love in my heart as I can (although I guess it’s pretty ironic i say this considering this is just one big rant about how I fucking hate someone)

[gerberbabey]

debut | one | pope heyward w/ filipina!reader

the idea of the pogues in a high school setting is actual so fun so i kinda got carried away. i rlly hav a thing for writing the character pining for the reader rather than the other way around.

im basing this off of how my high school was cus idk shit about any other high schools lmao. also excuse volleyball terminology, i also very much miss volleyball

masterlist | previous | next

warnings: cursing, like terrible writing, just filler stuff

one - ♫ I THINK by Tyler, The Creator ♫

It was already two weeks into your senior year and you were settling in nicely. At two weeks people were still switching around their classes making sure they wouldn’t regret the class they decided to settle into. You were satisfied with your schedule considering you only had 3 actual academic classes. 

For your last year you’d opted out of taking one least year of math or another year of science. You were a good student sure but you’d never been the best at maths or sciences. To the Pogues’ surprise Pope had a similar schedule, yet the only reason he wasn’t packed with AP classes was because he was signed up for dual enrollment with online college courses. 

“Dual enrollment helps clear GEs better than AP classes. I’m not saying I wouldn’t pass those AP tests but this way is easier,” Pope explained to JJ as they walked through the crowded halls of Kildare County High. Kooks and Pogues alike littered the hallways, separated in their own little groups and yet standing amongst one another. 

“Whatever you say Pope,” JJ shook his head. He and Pope had one class together this year and that was Intro to Drawing in the very beginning of the day.  

“Heeeey guys,” Kie greeted as she walked up to them, hiking her bag up her shoulder. Kie had opted out of a backpack this last year and had instead started using a tote bag which was only filled with her laptop, a single notebook, her pencil case, and other small personal belongings that had nothing to do with school. 

“You guys going to the game on Friday?” Kie questioned and Pope cringed as JJ groaned. 

“No Kie, we are not going to the football game this Friday-”

“Guys come one, first game of the season! Plus the environmental club is planning to work snack bar. All the money goes toward the Turtle Habitats and the Save the Ocean Foundation,” Kie plead. 

“As much as I love the turtles Kie,” the group stopped at Pope’s locker, “Our football team is garbage. Why would I subject myself to that?” 

“Ok I know that, but don’t go for the team,” Kie raised her eyebrows at the two of them, “Go for the turtles!” 

JJ shot her an “eeeh” sort of look and Kie huffed in annoyance. 

“Come on, if you could give me a whole other way to fundraise then please do,” Kie crossed her arms as Pope shuffled around the belongings in his locker. 

“You need help fundraising Kie?” 

The three teens turned in the direction of your voice and you grinned as you walked up to them, your teammate and other best friend Isabelle walking with you. Isabelle was tall, one of the tallest girls at school actually, and though they saw you two together frequently it was still kind of amusing to see one of the tallest people they new walking around with one of the shortest people they knew. 

“Yeah well, my club’s planning to do the football game snack bar but nobody goes to the game’s anyway so,” Kie shrugged. 

“You could fundraise at the volleyball game,” Isabelle suggested giving Kie a smile. Kie smiled back sheepishly as she shifted on her spot. 

“Are you serious?” she questioned, turning to you and you shrugged. 

“Well, why not? Wouldn’t hurt to ask our coach,” you stated and Kie watched as Pope closed his locker and turned as your hands reached up to fix the collar of the button up he’d worn over his t-shirt. 

“We have a game tomorrow, and then there’s a workshop on Saturday. If your club wants to try and fundraise during those, we can try and figure something out,” Isabelle spoke to Kie and Kie flushed for a moment before she nodded frantically and began talking over a few ideas that were already coming to mind. 

“And people are guaranteed to show up to the girls volleyball games,” JJ wiggled his eyebrows at you and Pope and you laughed as Pope reached up to whack JJ in the chest. You couldn’t help but note how weird JJ looked without one of his usual hats on. You figured it was because the teachers lost their minds over hats being worn inside the building. 

“So (Y/N),” Pope started and you and JJ looked at him. 

“So Pope?” you smiled and missed how JJ glanced between the two of you with a knowing look in his eye. 

“Am I gonna see your dress anytime soon?” Pope questioned and you rolled your eyes. 

“Pope I literally already told you that no one’s allowed to see it until my party,” you leaned against Pope as he shook his head.

“But I’m not just anyone,” he insisted and you laughed as the first bell of the day rang overhead. 

“Ok whatever dude,” you shoved at Pope and he playfully slapped at your arms, “Me and Isa have to go, I’ll see you guys later,” you bid and you gave Pope a hug and a kiss on the cheek before you waved goodbye to JJ and Kie. The three of them watched you two join the sea of students and JJ turned to Kie and Pope.

“Was I seriously just fifth wheeling?” he scoffed and Pope glared at him as Kie flushed at his insinuation. 

__________

“Ok can I just get like...the color? Oh my-you never even told me the color!” Pope stared at you with wide eyes and you shook your head as you covered your mouth to try and keep your laugh from coming out. The two of you were in your second to last class of the day (You were both TA’s for the Intro to Film teacher and that usually meant goofing around in the back as the class watched movies all day), and Pope had not let the topic of your dress drop. 

In fact he had asked you about it for the past three weeks. 

“I can’t ruin it,” you whined and Pope leaned forward and groaned into your shoulder. 

“Telling me the color won’t ruin it,” he mumbled and you reached up to rub his back. 

“Yes it will,” you whispered back playfully and Pope groaned again as you laughed, “Oh by the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you...” 

Pope sat up and motioned for you to continue. 

“I don’t need to have an escort or anything, but I was actually wondering if you’d like to be my escort? For my party?” you weren’t sure why you were so nervous but you couldn’t get yourself to look Pope in the eye. You watched as your fingers played with the end of his shirt. 

“(Y/N).”

You looked up at Pope through your lashes and he flashed you a wide grin. 

“I would literally be honored,” Pope pulled you into a tight hug before pulling back, “Also I would’ve been extremely offended if you didn’t ask me and I probably would’ve just been your escort anyway.” 

You laughed and quickly brought a hand up to cover it up as a few of the students in the room shot the two of you looks. 

“I wouldn’t even go through with the party without you,” you told him softly and Pope could feel his heart skip a beat. Sometimes he wondered what it would’ve been like if he had gathered up the courage to ask you out ages ago. Despite the bullshit he told his friends he knew that he was in love with you. He would always love you, but being in love with you was different. It meant so much more. 

“So that means I get to know the color of your dress right?” Pope whispered and your mouth dropped open in shock as a wide grin stretched across his face. You tried to stop yourself from smiling as you reached up to whack him on the shoulder. 

“No!” you whisper-yelled. 

“But how am I gonna coordinate with you-” 

“Drop it Pope,” you laughed as the bell rang to indicate the end of class. 

________

“Where’s Kie?” John B questioned as JJ and Pope walked up to him. Today was the first girl’s volleyball game of the year and they had planned on going to watch together. They only really did it out of support toward you but that obviously didn’t stop JJ from his usual flirting. 

“Her club’s doing snack bar or something, to help fundraise for turtles. Did she not tell you?” Pope asked as they walked into the gym together. There was music playing through the gym’s speakers and there was chatter and noise from every point. There was the sound of shoes squeaking against the gym floor and the sounds of volleyballs coming into contact with the floor, hands, the walls, etc. 

“Nah, I didn’t see her that much yesterday or even today.” 

“Yeah, where the hell were you anyway?” JJ questioned as he led the way up the bleachers. It was definitely crowded but the boys weren’t at all surprised, Kildare County High’s volleyball team was actually good, meaning they usually garnered a large audience of spectators. 

“I was at the counselor’s like all day trying to figure out how I’m gonna get enough credits to graduate,” John B sighed and JJ and Pope cringed. After John B’s dad disappeared in their sophomore year, the boy had taken a half a step back from his academic responsibilities to try and keep himself together and afloat. Then after Big John’s body was found at the beginning of their Junior year, John B had considered dropping out entirely. He missed a majority of that school year as a result of his grief, deciding that he felt there was no point for school any longer.

Yet with the surprising help of Sheriff Peterkin he had pushed himself back into finishing school. The school understood of course, but that didn’t mean it didn’t take a toll on his academic record. 

“I’m sure it’ll work out in the end,” Pope encouraged and JJ nodded, before the blonde clapped and looked around, eager to get John B’s mind off the matter. 

“Oh shit look there’s Quincy,” JJ pointed out and the trio made their way over the where a large group of other Pogues who had gathered up on one side of the bleachers. While some schools may have had senior sections or something of the like, their gym was separated by Kooks, Pogues, parents, and then any visitors from the opposing school. 

“Hey JJ what’s up man?” 

JJ dapped up Quincy and the two of them began talking about something or another as John B and Pope were greeted by the people around them. 

“Yeah (Y/N)!!” someone near them yelled, “You dig those balls!” 

The three boys turned to the court and watched as you shook your head and laughed but kept your focus on the court. You squatted down low once more and they watched as you warmed up, passing dimes for your setter to set. 

“Woooh (Y/N)!” JJ’s hands were cupped around his mouth as he yelled.

“Yeeeahhh!” John B yelled and was followed up by the student section of their gym, Pogues and Kooks alike, cheering for their team despite it only being in warm ups. 

Soon enough people had settled into the bleachers as the Varsity game came to a start. (Pope, JJ, and John B had yelled their hearts out at your introduction - “Number 10, Libero: (Y/N) (Y/L/N)!”. And JJ had pointed out where Kie was bustling over at the snack bar, charming people into buying whatever she pointed out to them). 

“Oh shit hey, I’m gonna go say hi to (Y/N)’s parents. I totally forgot,” Pope told his friends and the two nodded, waving him off. Pope mumbled “excuse me’s” as he maneuvered his way by people’s legs and tried not to knee anybody in the back of the head. He jogged down the steps of the bleacher and made his way to where the parents were all situated, watching the game intently. There was a bout of cheering and Pope glanced over to the court to watch you jump up in excitement as your team scored another point. 

“Hey Pope!” Pope looked up at that and smiled as your mom waved him over to where she was sitting with your dad.

“Hi!” he greeted, and leaned over as your mom stretched her arms up to give him a hug in greeting. 

“Your parents not here tonight?” your dad questioned and Pope shook his head. 

“Nah they couldn’t leave the store. They really wanted to come though. (Y/N)’s last first game and all.” 

“Ah well that’s alright, plenty of games after this one.” 

“Of course. Uh Mrs. (Y/L/N) how’s the party planning?” your mom rolled her eyes though he could tell there was no ill intent. 

“Stressful. All (Y/N) focused on was her dress and her guest list. Finding a place to even have the party was almost impossible,” your mom explained and Pope chuckled. 

“(Y/N) won’t even let me know what the dress looks like,” Pope told them and your mom laughed as your dad nodded. 

“She’s hid it from her dad too.”

“Won’t be able to see it ‘till the party,” your dad shook his head at that as Pope let out a surprised chuckle. 

“You ate that (Y/N)!” someone yelled and Pope and your parents glanced over at the game and watched you get picked up by Isabelle as your team cheered over winning the first set of the match. 

“Well I’m gonna head back to my friends,” Pope pointed over to where John B and JJ were sitting, now with the addition of Kie. 

“Of course, of course. We’ll be seeing you at our house later?” your mom teased and Pope shrugged as he laughed. 

He waved your parents goodbye and by the time he’d gotten back to his friends Kildare was already ahead in the second set. 

“Not working anymore Kie?” Pope questioned as he took a seat beside her leaving her between him and JJ. 

“Yeah we made shifts so it’s Marco’s turn,” Kie explained pointing over to the snack bar. 

“Was our volleyball team always this good?” JJ questioned and Pope scoffed. 

“Yeah you were just too busy staring at their asses to watch them play,” he reached around Kie to shove at the blonde and JJ batted his arms away. 

“Hey, you can’t exactly blame me!” 

“Gross JJ,” Kie rolled her eyes and the boy looked at Kie with an offended look before turning to John B as if to say, ‘are you hearing this?’. John B only shook his head at his best friend. The 3 Pogues chuckled at JJ’s expense before they turned back to the game. It was your turn to serve now and as you waited for the referee to blow his whistle John B reached up and cupped his hands around his mouth. 

“Do it for Pope, (Y/N)!!” 

Pope whipped his head over to John B as the students around them “oooh’d!” some of them shoving at Pope playfully. From the court he missed how you glanced up at where they were sitting, a grin on your face as the referee finally blew the whistle to let you serve. 

“Shut up John B!” Pope hissed and the brunette only laughed it off as Kie mentioned how Pope should’ve been used to this by now and JJ yelled. 

“For Poooope!!!!” JJ yelled as you served the ball. 

The Kildare supporters all cheered as you aced your serve and Pope flushed in embarrassment as you turned and pointed to him, riling up the crowd of students as those closest to him shoved at him once more. 

“Yes King!” someone yelled at Pope and he couldn’t help but grin as he pointed back at you.