#i swear i wanna draw everyone when i get the time but let this tide u over

[woah-uhuh-uhuh-uhuh]

@baccp a little bac!jerm because hes TRAPPED IN MY BRAIN rearranging my MOLECULES i love him SO MUCH

this ones also for @mountain-dew-tickledpink thank you for being an enabler

[moldisgoodforyou]

bahamas (iii)

wordcount: 4.5k

warnings: smut ! , lots of drunkenness

_______

“Rafe.” Sophie grinned at him through a mouthful of toothpaste, bumping her hip against his as they stood in front of the mirror of the master bathroom, at 3am after a long night of going out with their crew.

(He’d called first dibs the second they strolled into the entryway of the house, and no one protested except Sophie, who meekly suggested that they draw straws. James had cheerfully clapped her on the shoulder and insisted that they take the master because it was on the opposite end of the house from the other bedrooms, and he didn’t want to have to hear them having sex. She conceded soon after that.)

He stretched his arms out wide, flexing as he did, before looping them around her torso and settling his head on top of hers. Drunk Rafe was always extra cuddly and clingy, and often led to being more touchy than needed - but when she was drunk too, she fully embraced it. “Yeah?”

She spat out her toothpaste, rinsed her mouth, then shifted in his grip to look up at him with eager eyes. “You remember what we didn’t do when we were in Nice?”

He frowned as he pondered the answer, unsure. “Go to that one museum because we didn’t have reservations?”

“Beach sex.” She corrected, giggling when his eyes went wide. “And I was thinking, since you’ve never...and we basically have a private beach…”

“You’re drunk.” He cocked his head at her, still processing the request.

“Yes. But so are you.” Sophie reached up, her hands going to unbutton his shirt. “Come on, we need to shower afterwards anyway. We can be quick.”

“You’re serious?” He asked warily, letting her undress him. “Like, you’re 100 percent sure?”

“Hundred percent.” She replied, smoothing her palms over his chest. “Please?”

He glanced over, trying to ignore the uncomfortable tight feeling in his shorts. “Alright. But you have to keep your voice down, and we’re going back in through the kitchen door so we don’t set off any alarms, and I’m bringing a towel because I don’t want sand up my ass - Sophie, wait!” Rafe called after her as she giggled and slipped out their bedroom door, running out toward the water.

“Better catch up!”

He grabbed a towel and sprinted after her, catching up easily. “What did I just say -”

Sophie cut him off with a kiss, jumping up so he caught her around the waist and he slid his hands under her thighs to support her, momentarily thanking the girls in his head for convincing her to wear the flowy sundress. She locked her legs around his waist. “Shh.”

“You’re trouble.” He mumbled against her lips, glancing around the empty beach before walking out with her closer to the water. “Remember when you said you’d never skinny dip again because we nearly got arrested?”

“This is different.” She argued. “No one’s around. Didn’t you say you know the security guard?”

“Yeah, Sarah and I used to pay him to disable the alarms when we would sneak out in high school.” He grinned, sliding his hands up to grip her ass. “I fucking love you - hold on, are you not wearing underwear?”

She moaned against his mouth, moving to kiss along his jaw, then down his neck. “No.”

“Oh my god.” He set her down before she could suck a mark on his neck. He laid out the towel that was slung around his shoulders, making sure to put it in an area with packed sand, the ground still a little wet. “Lay down for me.”

“You don’t have an ounce of spontaneity in your body.” She laughed, but complied, the hem of her dress falling up her thighs as she leaned back on her elbows to look up at him.

“Shut up.” He countered lamely, surprising her as he knelt down and ducked his head under her dress, pressing kisses up her thighs.

Sophie let her eyes flutter shut, her legs falling wider. “Fuck, Rafe, I just wanted -”

“You’ll get it. Be patient.” He chastised, sliding two fingers across her dripping core. “Jesus, Soph, this really turns you on?”

“Yeah - oh.” She breathed out as he started rubbing steady circles across her clit. “It doesn’t for you?”

“I never said that.” He started making quick work with her under his tongue, knowing exactly how to make her moan.

She gripped helplessly at the sand, dropping her head back onto the towel. “Fuck, okay. Can you - we should prob’ly be quick -”

“Be quiet, Sophie.” He commanded, not giving her a second to respond before diving back in, his nose nudging against her clit.

She yelped, caught off guard, and immediately slapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry - fuck, don’t stop -”

He spread her legs further apart and kept up his motions, not stopping even as she tugged on his hair, making him groan against her. He added in one finger, then two, pleased by the little whimpers she made, knowing she was close. “C’mon, baby, wanna hear you when you come.”

Sophie shook her head but gasped as he stroked just the right spot in her, forgetting to keep her hand locked over her mouth. “Please, Rafe, there - please -” she tensed just as he pushed her past her peak, not realizing she’d basically kneed him in the head in the process.

He worked her through it anyways, pinning her legs down with his forearms. Once she dropped her head back to the towel, satisfied, he grinned up at her. “You good?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t stay quiet.”

“Nope. I swear, you have a nose meant for eating me out.” She exhaled, smiling dopily up at him.

He laughed, going to tug off his shorts. “What’s that mean?”

“It’s, like, sloped perfectly. I dunno.” She pulled the dress back down, sitting up on her knees. “How do you want me?”

“You didn’t bring a condom out, right?”

“I have the IUD now -”

“Still.” He regarded her carefully, a slow smile creeping onto his face as she reached up to unbutton his shorts. “Sophie.”

“Yes.”

“Your knees are gonna be bruised.”

“Oh well.” She palmed him over his shorts, satisfied when he hissed in response.

“Everyone’s gonna know.”

“Pretty sure they already know I’m sucking you off regularly.” She replied, tugging his shorts down. “It’s not really a secret.”

“We could at least take it inside…” He trailed off as she slid her hand down his cock, stroking her thumb over the head of it. “Shit.”

“I don’t think you’ll last that long, baby.” She teased, licking her palm then worked her hand up and down his cock in slow, long strokes.

He opened his mouth to reply just as she took him into her mouth, and promptly shut his instead. Clearly she wasn’t in the mood for conversation.

If there was one thing Sophie had learned in their relationship, it was that the only time Rafe ever shut up was when she had his cock in her mouth. (She wished she’d known that sooner. They could have solved a lot of arguments that way.)

She kept up a slow pace as she bobbed her head up and down on him, making Rafe begin to grow impatient.

He carefully tugged on her hair, making her glance up, and raised his eyebrows.

“Yes?” She pulled off him, raising hers back as she licked her lips. “Something to say?”

“You’re teasing.”

“I literally had you in my mouth, Rafe, that’s not teasing.” She insisted, digging her nails a little into the back of his thighs. “Now, if you’ll just -”

The tide came in right at that moment, soaking the entire bottom half of her dress and his shorts pooled around his ankles. They both yelped in surprise, Sophie jumped up, and Rafe tried to pull his shorts up as quickly as possible. “Shit!”

Sophie couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of her, clapping her hand over her mouth. “I can’t - we have to go back in.”

He shook his head, extremely uncomfortable in his sopping wet shorts that he barely managed to zip up over his now-painful boner, but grinned anyways. “This was your idea.”

“My dress is soaked.” She complained, wringing out the fabric. “You should have checked the tide -”

“Are you seriously - Sophie, you suggested this -”

“You should have told me no!” She argued, loving pushing his buttons as far as she could, and got up in his face, inches apart from him.

“Like you would have listened.” He stepped back right away, placing his hands on her shoulders and keeping his arms outstretched to keep her at a distance. “I know exactly what you’re doing.”

She took a step closer anyways, then squealed as he immediately grabbed her around the waist and tossed her over his shoulder. “Rafe!”

“Sophie!” He mimicked, tugging her dress down so it covered her ass and strode back up to the house, towel forgotten. “Fucking tease. You know, I thought the arguing might stop when we were dating.”

“You love arguing with me.” She retorted. “It turns you on.”

“Damn right it does.” He replied, palming her ass. “You’re so fucking sexy. I need to tell you that more.”

“Rafe.” She whined, squirming in his grip. “Quit.”

He only set her down just before the front door of their bedroom, glancing around. “If I ask nicely, will you help me out in the shower?”

She perked up, eager. “Will you beg for it?”

“Do you really want me to?”

“I always want you to.”

Rafe shook his head, grinning, and swatted her butt. “Get your ass in the shower, pretty girl.”

Twenty minutes later, with both of them finally warm again from the shower (among other activities) and completely clean, Sophie had a fresh bruise on her hip from slipping in the shower and Rafe not being quick enough to grab her before she hit the faucet. They slipped into bed just after four in the morning, both exhausted, and Rafe fumbled for his phone to set an alarm before they fell asleep.

“Put your phone away. Go to sleep.” Sophie mumbled, her head on his chest and fingers curled around his bicep.

“Uh.”

“What.”

“Seems the bathroom has good acoustics.”

“Oh, fuck.” She groaned, grabbing at his phone. He had three texts - two from James, saying shut the fuck up and I hate you both so much, and one from Colin, saying I literally never want to hear Sophie moaning ever again.

“That’s it. We’re getting back on the plane the second the sun rises. I never want to see the boys ever again in my life.”

He pulled his phone out of her grip and set it aside on the nightstand, kissing her on the forehead and hugged her back to his chest. “I’ve had the misfortune of hearing both of them in bed, we’re fine. They should be sleeping anyway. It’s not our fault.”

“If they say one single word tomorrow -”

“I won’t let them give you shit, I promise.” Rafe smoothed his palm over her hair in an attempt at a soothing gesture. “Though I don’t think I can control your girls if they heard it too.”

She yawned, shutting her eyes again. “Julia’s definitely gonna say something.”

He smirked. “Complimentary, I assume.”

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

_____

The rest of their day ended up as uneventful as they’d like - full of drinking tropical drinks, napping in hammocks in the sun, and a few games of beach volleyball. After one too many pina coladas, James found himself parasailing on the back of some random guy’s boat, with Colin roped along for assistance. Meanwhile, Rafe and the girls went snorkeling, and Julia insisted that a shark had bitten her toe (it was a baby whitebait, but still).

After dinner and a pregame, the group made it back to their now-favorite bar (after only three nights). It only took them a couple hours for everyone to get a buzz. They all took turns in pairs to get drinks upon Rafe’s insistence, making sure everyone was safe. They kept everything on a tab on Rafe’s card and agreed to pay him back at the end of the week - he had to talk them into it, wanting a reason to piss his dad off. (Sophie wasn’t thrilled, figuring Rose would find some way to connect it back to her, but agreed after a few drinks anyways.)

When Sophie returned with Rafe from the bar after their turn, drinks in hand, she stopped abruptly in her tracks at the scene before them. He promptly ran into her, stumbling in an attempt to catch both of them and not spill the drinks. “Hey! Pick up your feet, Soph -”

“What the fuck?” She demanded, staring straight ahead at James and Julia making out on the dance floor. They were in their own little world, arms wrapped around each other.

“Shit.” Rafe mumbled, following her gaze. “Okay, baby, let’s be rational here -”

She ignored him, storming forward, and decided the best course of action was to duck in between the two of them to break them up, making Julia accidentally smack a sound kiss to her lips.

Both the boys gaped for a moment, then regained their senses and exchanged a glance. Rafe cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as a blush rose to his cheeks.

Julia’s eyes snapped open and she pulled back a second too late, confused and definitely not sober. “Soph?”

“What the fuck, you two?” She exclaimed, whirling around to face James, who had both hands up in defense and had taken several steps back.

“I didn’t - we haven’t -” He fumbled for an excuse, sending Rafe a desperate look, but he just shrugged in response.

“Stop kissing each other! Or trying to hook up! God!” Sophie knocked back a big swig of alcohol before glaring at both of them, her eyes a little wild. Rafe had seen that look before - many a time, actually, but more so in high school - and was extremely thankful he wasn’t on the receiving end of it for once. “Why is that so hard to understand?!”

Julia shrugged, having absolutely zero remorse. “He’s here, he’s a good kisser. Just happened.”

“Well stop making it happen.” Sophie frowned, turning back to James. “Last time, you -”

“Hey.” Rafe stepped in abruptly, interrupting what she was about to spill to Julia, about how last time James felt guilty for an entire month after, and how he had asked Rafe if he was a bad person for wanting to just hook up without a relationship, and if he was screwing Julia over. (Julia couldn’t care less, she was just happy to be getting some no strings attached, but James struggled with the whole idea.) “Okay. Let’s not. Where are Colin and Allie?”

James shot Rafe a grateful look and then tipped his head toward the bar. “Allie’s getting hit on by the bartender and Colin is…I don’t know.”

“You lost Colin?” Sophie asked, pulling out her phone to search for him. “When?”

“We didn’t lose him, he was talking to some girl. That’s mine?” Julia asked, taking one of the drinks from Sophie’s hand.

“Yes, but you don’t deserve it.” She grumbled, but let her take it anyway.

“Soph.” Rafe chastised, firm. “Okay. So Colin’s fine, do we need to intervene with this bartender?” He glanced back and was surprised to see normally-quieter Allie leaning across the bar, twirling a strand of hair around her finger as she giggled at something the bartender said. He recognized that tactic straightaway - Sophie had done it all the time when they first started to be friendly with each other. For a moment he questioned if that was actually her flirting or something she’s tried at Julia’s coaching - honestly, that was probably it.

Whatever. It still worked.

“Is she flirting? Wait, is this the same guy that was hitting on her last night?”

“Yeah. He’s hot.” Julia commented with a grin, raising her eyebrows at Sophie. “Think she’ll go home with him?”

“No one is going home with anyone.” Rafe shook his head, settling his arm around Sophie’s shoulders. “If they want to do anything, it’ll have to be at my place. We’re not losing track of anyone. Where the fuck is Colin?” He scanned the room along with James, both of them a good head above the crowd.

“Oh! There.” James pointed out, spying Colin talking to a girl at the end of the bar, watching as he kept glancing toward Allie with a frown and barely paid the other girl any attention. “Man. He sucks at flirting.”

“Not his strong suit.” Rafe agreed. He watched with raised eyebrows as Allie balanced an entire tray of double shots back to their booth, cheeks a little flushed and bright-eyed.

“Hi, you’re back! I brought shots, where’s Colin?” She started passing them out to everyone, placing a small bowl with lime wedges in the center of the table.

“Who’s your friend, Al?” Rafe grinned.

“I...I don’t know what you mean.” Allie blushed, pushing Rafe’s shot toward him a little more insistently. “Here. Drink.”

“Allie’s gonna get some,” Julia sang, knocking back the first shot without waiting for the others. “Did you pack condoms? I have extras -”

Colin appeared out of nowhere, squeezing himself into the booth besides James. “Who needs condoms?”

“No one.” Rafe and Allie replied at the same time, Rafe immediately going into protective mode. Allie was blushing furiously by now and shoved a shot toward Colin, grabbing her own and raising it. “To...trying new things.”

James whistled, laughing at Sophie’s cheer before they all took the shot together. After the second one, Julia winced, biting her lip, and Sophie recognized the telltale sign immediately. “Jules, bathroom?”

“Yeah, I - yeah.” She nodded, slipping out of the booth and hurried after Sophie. Tequila never treated her well, but when she was drunk enough she’d drink whatever was put in front of her.

Allie watched them go, gathering the shot glasses back onto the tray with the discarded limes - she scowled as a trail of juice made it down her wrist. “Okay, I’m bringing this back. Are we good to go after this, do we want more drinks…?”

“I’m pretty sure Jules is throwing up, so I think we’re done.” James informed her unhelpfully, leaning into Colin a little too much - Colin just shoved at him to keep him upright.

“Right. Um.” She spoke the next words too quickly, all strung together like she couldn’t get them out fast enough. “Rafewhat’syouraddress?”

“Huh?”

Allie blushed, shrugging. “Address? Where we’re staying?”

“Oh. Oh! Um, it’s...lemme just…” He pulled out his phone and dropped her a pin. “There. Texted it to you.”

“Why do you need the address if we’re all going home?” Colin asked with suspicion, scowling.

“None of your business.” Allie told him curtly, lingering for a moment longer before taking a deep breath and strolling back up to the bar.

The bartender, Carlos, greeted her with a broad smile. He’d made the first move when she got drinks for the group the day before, complimenting her on her shirt and the color, then on how cute she looked when she blushed. “You came back.”

“Yeah. I did.” Emboldened by the alcohol, she held out her hand. “Can I have a napkin and a pen, please?”

He nodded, sliding both across the table and stroked his thumb over the back of her hand before letting go. “Are you leaving without me?”

“If you can get off in the next hour - shit -” She blushed at her word choice. “I mean, um, if you want to come by in the next hour. If the bar’s closing. You can, um, show me more of that tattoo you were telling me about.” She nodded toward his chest and the bit of ink peeking out from beneath his button up shirt, biting the inside of her cheek with instant regret at her poorly delivered pickup line. There was a reason she stuck to dating apps and let Julia and Sophie handle the ghostwriting on her account, preferring to stick to one night stands if anything.

Carlos accepted the napkin she slid back with the address on it, nodding. “I’m off in an hour.” He paused, eyes raking over her for a second. “You said you’re 22?”

“Yes? Is that a problem?” She asked with a little too much of an edge of nerves to her voice, instead of confidence like she’d hoped she could deliver. Channeling Sophie’s argumentative energy and Julia’s flirtatious energy never worked for her.

“No, I’m 25. Just wanted to make sure.” He flashed her a bright grin, one that made her feel a little weak in the knees. “I’ll see you soon, Allie.”

She could barely get out a “see you” before she hurried back to her friends, biting the inside of her cheek so she wasn’t smiling so wide. James grinned at her knowingly, Rafe raised his eyebrows as if to check in that she was okay while Colin seemed distant, distracted. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“The rest of our girls are still -” Rafe started, then cut himself off as Sophie and Julia arrived behind Allie. “Never mind. Let’s roll.” He sent Sophie a quick glance, nodding briefly toward Allie before tugging the boys to fall into step ahead of the crew. It was only a seven minute walk back to the house, placed perfectly in between the nightlife and the beach.

Sophie read his glance right away, nudging her hip against Allie’s and lowering her voice as they all followed the boys out. “So. The bartender?”

“Carlos.” Allie corrected.

“Are you gonna fuck him?” Julia asked a little too loudly, yelping when Sophie punched her arm.

“...I think so.” Allie nodded, only sounding a little unsure of herself.

“Don’t do anything you don’t want to.” Sophie told her, hooking her arm in hers. “But if you do want to, make him go down on you first.”

“Voice down, Soph!” Rafe called out ahead of them, turning to walk backward and send her an amused look.

Sophie just flipped him off, making him roll his eyes and turn back. “What! She should!”

Allie raised her eyebrows, gesturing between the two of them. “I thought you went down on him first.”

Sophie waved her hand, shaking her head. “That’s besides the point. We knew each other, all that. You don’t know this bartender, but if he’s worth anything, he’ll prove it first.”

“She makes a good point for someone who’s had only one random hookup.” Julia interjected with a grin. “I saw him take a tequila shot with one of the old ladies at the bar last night. His tongue is -”

“Oh my god, no, shut up.” Allie interrupted, turning bright red as they followed the boys into the house, Rafe holding the door for all of them. “This was a bad idea, I shouldn’t have - no. I don’t do this for a reason.”

Rafe straightened up, crossing his arms with a frown. “You don’t have to do a single thing you don’t want to. I’ll tell him to fuck off if you want.”

Julia reached out and combed her fingers through the ends of Allie’s hair, arranging it perfectly. “Yeah, but don’t hold back if you want to do this. One and done, babe, then you never have to see this dude again.”

“Yeah, we’ll go to another club if you want. You set the rules here, Al.” Rafe promised sincerely, genuinely concerned for the well-being of his friend.

Allie nodded, taking a deep breath and glanced around at everyone gathered in the foyer. “Right. I’m gonna - I should take another shot or something.”

“No.” Colin’s permanent frown hadn’t left his face since they’d all left the bar. “If you’re not gonna do this sober, then you’re sure as hell not gonna do it drunk.”

“One shot wouldn’t make me drunk -”

“No, Allie -”

“Colin.” James cut in sharply. “She can handle herself. C’mon, I want to scout out where to go for dinner tomorrow and I want your help. I don’t think I can type right.”

They all stood there in silence for a moment, tension thick in the air, until Colin grumbled and headed off to their room without a word. James rolled his eyes at his surliness but followed.

Julia grinned at Rafe once they left, arms crossed as she leaned against the wall. “So if Allie’s hooking up in my room, does that mean we get a sleepover?”

Rafe’s face dropped and he glanced toward Sophie, who was just holding back a grin. “No. Jules, you can sleep on the couch or something - look, this dude isn’t spending the night, right Allie?”

“Um…no?” She questioned, glancing around at her friend’s faces. “No? No. Uh, I don’t think so.”

“Good choice.” He nodded, glancing out toward the street where they could all hear the sound of a car pulling up outside. “Want us to hang out here?”

“Yeah, just, uh.” Allie waved toward the couches in the living room area. “Go be distant. Shit.” She mumbled as he started walking up the drive. “Jules, where are -”

“Condoms are in the side pocket of my duffel.” Julia supplied helpfully, laughing when Rafe made a face. “What! She needs to be protected -”

“Shut up!” Allie hissed back, straightening a little and offered a slightly nervous smile to Carlos as he strolled up and greeted her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Hi! Um, do you want to...let me show you this way.” She ushered him away, but not before Rafe caught his eye and stared him down.

Julia watched Rafe with a smirk, nudging him once the two had left their earshot. “You are so totally the dad friend. I hope you know that.”

“If that’s setting me up to be a good father, I’ll take it.” He replied quickly, with a little too much sincerity to be taken as a joke.

“Just don’t become a father on this trip.” Julia shot back with a teasing grin.

His eyebrows shot up and he immediately looked toward Sophie, giving himself away.

Julia laughed, punching him in the arm. “Yeah. I heard about her stomach flu incident. You two are so dramatic, immediately assuming she’s pregnant.”

“I told you that in confidence, Julia.” Sophie groaned, her cheeks going red.

“Yeah, as in don’t discuss with the boys, not your boy.”

Rafe couldn’t hide the pleased smile he got at ‘your boy,’ wrapping his arm around Sophie’s shoulders as she rolled her eyes. “Jules, you good hanging out here? I can take the couch if you want.”

“Nah, I’m good. Night Dad.”

“Stop.” Sophie insisted, not amused in the slightest.

“Okay, Mom.” Julia rolled her eyes. “Jeez, I know who’s gonna be the fun parent.” The moment she registered the slightest flinch in Sophie’s facial expressions, Julia softened, reaching out to pat her knee. “Kidding. Sorry.”

“S’alright.” Sophie mumbled, standing. “I’m going to bed. Night, Jules.”

Rafe stood after her, following immediately. “Text if you need anything. Blankets are in that basket over by the fireplace.”

“Thanks. Night.” Julia replied, watching them go. She briefly thought about knocking on James’ door - she’d forgotten he was that good of a kisser - but decided against it. Some friendships just needed to stay intact.

taglist: @drewstarkey @lemur46 @jjmaybanksbaby @edgeofgr8 @quxxnxfhxll @obxtess @hoodpankow @vtgirl802 @outerbankies @messagesinthesky @nicolecarsley @svechnikolan @ilovejjmaybank @obxtess @abbyj1822 @oopsiedoopsie23 @g4bster @jjmaybankzz @freddymaybank @dontjinx-it @illbesafeforyou @moniamaybank @tovvaa @jailcalledlife @sunshineitsfine44 @randomficsandshit @outerbankspreferences @outerbanksbro @karsinner @kkmaybank @whoeveniskendall @lemur46 @outerbankies

[weasleypogues]

fight club (p.h.)

request: hii can i request smth angsty with pope ? maybe it could end well for both the reader and him but overall it’s just filled with angst and slow burn and tension ? ty xx

ofc lovieee!!! loving this pope recognition finally!! :)

this will be a two part becuause this was longer than i expected!!! part 2 here!!!

masterlist.

you literally felt like you could not sit still. anger was pulsating through your veins as you paced back and forth on the porch of the chateau. you also felt the piercing eyes of pope follow you back and forth as you struggled to form a cohesive sentence.

“it’s just- ugh! she can’t get away with this! she thinks because she’s a kook that i’ll be begging for her forigveness and shit like i’m a starving peasant just to save my reputation! i’m a fucking pogue, i don’t have a reputation to uphold!” you spat as your hands clenched together so hard you swear you were going to accidentally draw blood from your palms.

vanessa was a kook that you never had problems with when you were kids because you two had a friendship that was secretive and playful because of opposing groups. it wasn’t until middle school was when she ditched you, similar to kie and sarah’s relationship. thankfully for them, they sorted it out. however, vanessa was bitter and bitchy every chance she could get. 

“yes (y/n)! keep it fiesty! i wanna see you win a good cat fight.” jj egged you on.

“you’re gonna make yourself go crazy if you don’t just sit down.” pope spoke in a sterner tone than you would have expected. but as the rage filled you from vanessa, pope’s tone was not helping. you felt a tinge of hurt in your chest as he expressed his clear stress and annoyance with you. but you weren’t going to let it go that easily; not in this state.

“i’m fine just the way i am, thanks.” you responded just as passive-aggressively as he did. you literally had to restrain yourself from rolling your eyes so you wouldn’t egg this on, because the last thing you needed was for pope of all people to be on your bad side. 

you heard him scoff from behind you and his footsteps faded away. you spun around so quickly, maybe even too quickly to play it cool, to just see a flash of him as he turned the corner. your eyes flashed to john b, kie, and jj who had expressions that were just as shocked as your own.

“what’s his problem?” you asked, expecting an answer real quick before you had to go investigate it yourself. your teeth grinded against each other and you felt your face and ears go hot. 

“he probably just doesn’t think this is worth it (y/n/n).” kiara stated, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt and giving you a look that said don’t let it get to you. kiara shared a quick glance with john b and jj, which definitely did not go unnoticed by you.

“w-what was that? that little look you three shared?” you asked pointing your finger at them interchangeably and confused but angrily eager to find out. you raised your eyebrows, expecting another speedy answer as you finally turned towards jj who held his hands up in defense and bit his tongue. 

“cut pope some slack. you’ve been looking for trouble lately (y/n), it’s been keeping him on edge each time.” john b responded and slapped his hands on this thighs before getting up off the couch. you felt your cheeks get a little hot and your jaw drop slightly.

pope was trying to be protective of you. this was not a secret that you and pope were always flirty with each other but neither of you ever acted on it. both keeping the same sad mindset, if they wanted to, they would. everytime you talked about this with kiara and sarah at a girls’ night, they playfully judged you for thinking like that and tried to encourage you to just go for it. 

you took a deep inhale and relaxed your shoulders and face, feeling the tension ease up on your body. “she’s asking for it...look i don’t want to make pope upset or anything but vanessa can’t keep pulling this shit. she’s asking for her teeth to get knocked in.” you huffed out as you grabbed your backpack and phone to hop on your bike and head home. 

--

your grabbed your phone and backpack as you headed back outside to your bike. you didn’t even bother to text the rest of the group about catching a ride to tonights kegger because you were just a little fired up from earlier. they were your friends and if this were any other case, they would be backing you up. why is this time any different?

you’re recalling yourself getting ready. stud earrings because she can grab hold of hoops. your hair in two braids because there was less surface area for her to snatch onto. sneakers to make a run for it in case shit gets bad. 

what the rest of them don’t understand is that not only was vanessa mean, spoiled, and made your existence on the obx difficult, was that you had a bumpy past with her. more than just losing a friend. she made up a rumor based on fake ideas that she overheard her parents talking about. when she would run into you on the street with her other kook friends at the ripe age of 13, she would be a bystander as they spat insults your way. that always caused a strain in your friendship. 

until one day, she started the picking on first. she judged you on your family’s financial situation and said quote-by-quote “i heard her mom cheats on her dad with all of her little pogue friend’s dads. who knows, they could actually be related and we wouldn’t know. she’s a whore and i’m sure she’ll end up just like her.” tears still brim your eyes at that memory. you wouldn’t dare tell the rest of the pogues, whether it was out of embarassment or fear. it was best for them and their own minds that it was never brought up again. since then, it seems like constant torture from her. 

you pulled up on the beach and hopped off your bike as your tires were definitely not made for the sand. you laid it on a tree and made a b-line to the keg that john b was basically guarding. “thought we’d hear from you.” you heard kiara state as she sat on the sand and glanced up at you, squinting her eyes to keep the remaining sun from basically burning them.

“yeah well, just got a lot on my mind.” you responded. you didn’t want to be so abrupt with them but your blood was basically boiling with the idea of vanessa. john b stared between you and kiara and handed you a full red solo cup which you gladly took, taking a gulp.

“soooo...” jj started, throwing an arm around your shoulder, “cat fight tonight?” you felt a chuckle rise out of you as you playfully rolled your eyes.

“if you’re lucky enough, maybe you’ll get front row.” you joked, sending a smirk jj’s way and taking another gulp. you felt a presence behind you and turned to be faced with pope. his facial expression had clearly changed from what you saw from him last time. he looked almost guilty and concerned rather than aggravated. 

“come to snap at me again?” you said, turning towards the horizon on the water. looking into his eyes right now was difficult. maybe because it was the idea that you knew some part of you wanted to snap at him for him snapping at you earlier but you couldn’t make another enemy. not tonight. 

“about that...can i actually talk to you for a minute?” pope muttered, instincitvely cracking his knuckles, clearly scared to tread on water. you felt your shoulders relax and your facial muscles follow suit. placing your drink and backpack on the ground you followed a few paces behind him, closer to the sand where the tide was rolling in. although he didn’t stop, he wanted this to be a walk and talk situation. 

you strolled beside him, both of your hands slightly brushing against each other every now and then. while neither of you took initiative to grab the others’ hand, neither of you pulled your hands out of that pathway either. that connection and touch felt nice. it was reassuring that his snappiness, along with your own, was out of love and protection of each other. 

“you won’t be happy with what i’m about to say...” pope started, basically holding his breath.

“so why say it, pope? i know it sounds bad to say outloud but, why not just let me fight her? she has made my existence so unbearably difficult on this island and has slandered my name and countless others of those i love too much and for too long. i’m sick of being a pushover and letting her get away with it because of mommy and daddy’s money. im done!” you blurted out, letting more info out than you expected. “why does it bother you so much? if this was topper and john b going at it, or rafe and jj? which keep in mind, both have actually happened, i’m sure you would be more hesitant to stop them.”

your strolling came to a sudden halt as pope took a step directly in front of you, face to face. he looked longingly into your eyes, somewhat darting back and forth between your own eyes to search for an answer to his questions or even an answer to yours. 

“(y/n)! i can’t see you get hurt. i know how badly you want to do this and how much it means to you but in the end, what is it going to get you? an even worse reputation among kooks, bloody nose, and a black eye? is it worth it?” pope rambled drasticaly. 

“it is worth it! and i’m so thankful that you care about me and my well being and everything in between but this is something that i have to do. once and for all. i’m not putting myself and everyone i love through this torture anymore. and if that means beating the shit out of her and getting a bloody lip and battered up on the way, than so be it!” you responded, using your hands quite animatedly throughout the performance. the waves seemed like the loudest thing on earth as you awaited an answer from pope. he looked defeated and anxious, knowing that there was no getting through to you for this. 

“i-” pope started before cutting himself off, looking deafeated yet again. he ran his hands over his face in frustration and as he let his eyes shine over the tips of his fingers, they locked with yours. you felt stuck in place and in a trance for a split second before you felt a pair of hands on your waist and soon enough, you were lip locked with pope. 

instantly you pulled away, your heart feeling full and your legs feeling limp. your hands made their way to his jawline, slightly caressing his cheeks and neck as you pulled him back into the kiss, elongating it. 

he pulled away, shocked yet proud with himself. you could not help the small smile that made it’s way onto your face as your cheeks felt hot immediately. “i can’t believe i’m saying this but...fuck it. beat the shit out of vanessa.” 

the small smile grew as a laugh escaped your lips. you were quick to grab his hand as you both made your way back towards the kegger that was becoming a little more dense as the minutes passed. sarah, kiara, jj, and john b’s eyes were quick to fall on your interlocked hands with pope. both of you kept quiet, playing it nonchalantly. but you couldn’t help but notice pope’s look to john b and jj, all with smirks lined up on their faces.

part two out later!! :) 

[gureishi]

Ohhh! I love your writing!!! Can I please request a fluffy story with Saeyoung for promt 11? Thank you so much, have a nice day!<3

Wowowow, thank you! It makes me so happy to hear that! And I LOVED doing this prompt for you.

eleven: i could only be myself with you around

SaeyoungXReader, T (kissing!), words: 1561

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

The air is balmy on the beach at night. In the afternoon, the sand was scalding and the sun scorched your eyes. Now, there’s a light breeze rustling the trees, and everything smells fresh-salty-sweet. 

You walk hand-in-hand to the water’s edge. Your figures cast a huge moon shadow over the sand—the day’s footsteps have been washed away, and everything is smooth and dark and pristine.

“I told you it would be better at night,” you say, nudging his shoulder playfully. 

Saeyoung nods slowly. The moon is reflected in his golden eyes, making them look even bigger and brighter than usual.

“Is this a normal people thing or a you thing?” he asks. It’s nearly midnight; there’s no one else out but the two of you.

You laugh quietly. “I don’t think it’s just a me thing. I know other people who like the beach at night.”

He raises his eyebrows.

"Who else are you bringing to the beach at night?” he asks. It’s not an accusation—his tone is playful.

You roll up your pant legs and wiggle your feet into the sand, letting the surf drift over your toes. It’s cold, but not too cold. Saeyoung copies you, yelping as the water hits his ankles.

“Oh, I bring everyone here!” you chirp, splashing a little farther into the water. “Your brother. The whole RFA. Vanderwood. You know.”

Suddenly, a mini wave rushes over your ankles and you spin around. Saeyoung is grinning; he kicks at the sand again and the water splashes around your feet.

“I don’t even wanna think about that!” he says. He moves toward you, leaving a trail of ripples behind him in the water. He’s still only in ankle-deep. “Don’t take other people to the beach at night!”

You laugh, spinning in a circle, loving way the water tugs gently at your ankles. The bottom of your cuffed pants is getting wet now, but you don’t really care.

“I solemnly swear to only have night beach time with Choi Saeyoung from now on,” you say, imitating his tone of voice. You offer him a pinky. He takes it—then lunges forward, pulling you into his arms and squeezing you so tightly that your feet leave the ground.

“You are so cute that I can’t stand it,” he squeals. He wiggles back and forth and the tips of your toes graze the cool water.

“Saeyoung! Put me down!” Your voice comes out breathless. He hoists you up higher in his arms.

“Noooo.”

“Saeyoung!”

He rocks you back and forth, cackling, planting little kisses along your hairline. You see the wave coming before he does—he’s not paying attention, of course, new to the ocean, wrapped up in teasing you. You open your mouth to warn him and he kisses you instead, lips slightly parted. Oh, screw it, you think, and wrap your arms around his neck.

The wave hits you—just as you knew it would—and Saeyoung loses his footing—just as you knew he would. You yelp as you fall; his agent reflexes kick in and he twists, catching himself with an arm so he falls slightly more gracefully. He keeps his other arm around your waist, cushioning you, pulling you on top of him into the frothy shallows.

“We fell!” He sounds almost gleeful. He doesn’t get up, letting the tide wash over him. He’s soaked—the water almost reaches his ears as he lies all the way down.

“I told you,” you gasp into his neck. He cradles you against him and you give in, accepting the water seeping into your clothes. It’s bracing, but not terrible. His chest and arms are warm.

He giggles. “Is this what you do with all those other people on the beach at night?”

You waggle your eyebrows at him, snuggling into his chest (because why not?), feeling the tide lapping at your legs. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Ever-so-gently, he combs a hand through your damp hair and pulls your face down to his. He ghosts his lips over yours, and you kiss him back enthusiastically, darting your tongue out to graze his bottom lip. His lips are salty and a little sandy and you take his bottom lip between your teeth, pushing him deeper into the bubbly water and the cool, wet sand.

This time neither one of you sees the wave coming. It hits suddenly, breaking over your entwined bodies and splashing you in the face.

“Gah!” Saeyoung splutters, trying to shield your face from the spray and sit up at the same time.

“This is your fault!” you cry, gasping for air, torn between annoyance and laughter. 

Saeyoung scoops you up in his arms like a baby and leaps up, sending water cascading in all directions. Laughter wins out, of course.

“Ahhhhhh!” He yells a battle cry as he charges for the dry sand, clutching you to his chest. You can only cling to him and laugh, the seawater dripping from your hair onto your face and off your nose.

He collapses on the beach, panting and laughing, and you try to disentangle your limbs from his.

“Never done that before, have you?” you ask, tossing your soaked hair out of your eyes. He jumps to his feet—there’s seaweed sticking to his forehead.

“You know what else I haven’t done before?!” he sings, abruptly taking off down the beach.

“What?” you call to him. You try and ring out your shirt, but it’s a lost cause. The air is warm, so you decide you don’t mind.

Saeyoung doesn’t answer, but sprints back toward you, a long piece of driftwood in his hand. He takes big, purposeful steps as he starts to draw in the sand—huge, as if he’s trying to be make something that can be seen from space. 

And he is, you think. He always is.

He draws the hangul quickly but neatly and you scramble to your feet to take in his work. His writing is clear, cut deeply into the sand. A grin spreads across your face when you realize what he’s doing.

He’s written “Saeyoung and” already and he’s started on your name. You watch him in silence, your hair and clothes dripping onto the sand. He finishes your name and walks a huge circle around the writing, carving a big, slightly lopsided heart. He looks really focused—adorable, you think.

He pulls back at last, dropping the stick on the ground. He turns to you, eyes shining.

“Do you like it?”

You beam at him, taking it all in: the childlike gesture, the eager expression on his face.

“It’s beautiful, babe,” you tell him. He skips to your side and you take his arm with both hands and wrap it around your shoulders. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Mmm?” he hums into your hair. There’s still seaweed on his face and you’re sure your hair smells like salt and dirt.

“When did you stop going by your name?”

He pulls back a little, looking you in the eye. You watch the expressions dance over his face: he’s puzzled at first, then his eyes harden a little. You feel sort of bad for asking.

“When I was told everyone would be safer if I wasn’t me anymore.”

You know who he means by “everyone," of course. His eyes are dark and you hate yourself for making him remember this time.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, brushing his lips sandy lips with your fingertip. “I should’ve have said it.”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s okay.” And, fixing you with a pointed stare: “Really. I don’t mind.” He brushes your hair back, wipes the salt from your forehead. “I was Luciel because it was best if the people I loved didn’t know Saeyoung. And I was 707 because I was told to become him.”

“I love them all, you know,” you say. The corners of his lips twitch up; the starlight is back in his eyes.

“Ask me when I first thought I wanted to be Saeyoung again,” he says.

“When?” you ask. You turn your body so you’re fully facing him and he wraps his arms around your waist.

“The day I met you,” he says. You raise your eyebrows.

“The day you came to the apartment?” “No. The day you came into the messenger.”

You pull back a little, eyeing him for any indication that he’s teasing you. His face says dead serious.

“You barely knew me! You thought I was an enemy hacker!”

Saeyoung shrugs, his hands traveling over your waist, up your sides. It tickles, but in a good way. “Can’t tell you how I knew,” he says. “I honestly hadn’t thought about my real name in ages. It just…popped into my mind that day. That I might want somebody to know me by my name.”

You launch yourself at him, kissing him fiercely, taking him by surprise.

“Mmph!” he says against your mouth. You laugh and it’s like a gear switches in his brain and he kisses you back just as enthusiastically, his hands roaming up and down your sides.

You pull back a tiny bit, sandy lips just brushing his.

“Maybe it’s obvious, but I’m glad you’re Saeyoung,” you whisper. He giggles as your breath tickles his lips.

“I am too,” he says.

[gryffindor-quidditch]

If the tide takes California, I’m so glad I got to hold you.

AN: So I’ve been listening to “Till forever falls apart” by Ashe and FINNEAS for the past two days and I needed to write something based on it. go listen to the song because I love it and i wanna hear what others think!!!!

Oct 31, 1981

The sky over Godric’s Hollow was an inky black, with thick clouds rolling overhead. Despite the horrors that had happened not long before, the small town was comfortably quiet, the sound of Hagrid riding away on his motorcycle having faded away into nothingness. Sirius felt a pang of guilt as he thought of Harry, as his godfather he should have stayed with him, should’ve made sure he was somewhere safe. There were more important things to do right now, though. 

His footsteps echoed of the pavement as he walked away from the ruin that was once James and Lily’s home. Sirius Black, usually lead by emotion, who never gave his plans a second thought before jumping in, was completely composed. Calm. Perhaps you could say this was the calm before the storm, but Sirius knew what he was doing, and he knew it was right. That’s not to say he wasn’t feeling anything at this particular moment, because oh god was he feeling everything right now. But, unlike when he let his anger and his pain take control of his actions as a kid, now his grief and heartbreak and unbridled rage bubbled under the surface, not yet taking control. 

He thought of Remus as he walked towards Peter’s flat. He was out on a mission, had been for 2 weeks now, there was no way he could have known what had happened, or what was going to happen. Sirius felt such a sense of longing when he pictured his boyfriend that it was almost enough to turn around right then and let the aurors handle this. Almost. 

“Out on our own, dreaming in a world that we both know is out of our control.”

Sirius thought about how naive they had been to believe all of them would see the other side of this war. Now it seemed only one Marauder would survive it. He didn’t want to die, but he felt certain that as long as Peter didn’t survive either, all would be well. He hoped that maybe Peter would go without a fight, he knew this was unlikely. 

“But if shit hits the fan, we’re not alone”

He started to dread every step he took. Every step closer to Peter meant another step farther away from his future with Moony, from his future where they raised Harry, and everything was okay. Remus was going to think this was his fault, Sirius realized with a jolt. How had he been so stupid as to mistrust Remus? Remus, who held him and took care of him when he had missions go wrong. Remus, who kept his secrets and never judged him. Remus, who had forgiven him for every stupid thing he’d ever done. Sirius knew he didn’t deserve forgiveness for believing he was the traitor. 

“Cause you’ve got me and you know, that I’ve got you and I know”

Peters flat came into view, and Sirius knew that the only way anyone would believe his innocence was if he could get Peter to the ministry to admit the truth. 

As he drew closer to the building, he caught sight of Peter slipping out the side door with a duffel bag in hand. His heart leapt in his chest, relieved to have found his target. In the moment, it doesn’t seem odd to have found Peter so easily, it doesn’t seem planned. Sirius quickened his pace, drawing his wand as he followed Peter down an alleyway. 

Peter walked purposefully, but Sirius caught up to him easily. They had just reached the other side of the alley, which opened up into a busy road when Sirius grabbed Peter by the shoulder and forcibly turned him around. When Peter met his gaze, his expression was not one of fear, like Sirius had been expecting. Nor was it one of regret. 

Peter looked pleased, smug even. 

It was only half a second, a smirk, and an aura of confidence coming from someone who normally reeked of fear and cowardice. This is when Sirius realized he has made a grave mistake. Suddenly Peters demeanor changes, he takes a step back, away from Sirius. 

“You killed James and Lily Potter!” He screeched, the busy street all but came to a halt. 

“If the tide takes California, I’m so glad I got to hold you”

Sirius knew this is not ending in his favor, he’d been played. He knew he will not see Remus again. And as Peter causes a scene on the street, yelling and pointing at Sirius, making accusations that couldn’t be farther from the truth, but that will be believed by everyone in the wizarding world by tomorrow, Sirius thought of Remus. 

He thinks of them at home, in bed, Remus’s gangly long limbs cradling Sirius as they sleep. The smell of cigarette ash, and chocolate. The heat of his body, like a furnace, keeping the cold air from the window at bay. He thinks of kissing his scarred flesh until his blonde eyelashes flicker open in the mornings. Why hadn’t he been more grateful for the time they’d had together.

“And if the sky falls from heaven above, I know I had the best time falling into love”

His world turned into red ash, Peter has fled, leaving only destruction, dead bodies, and a finger in his wake. Sirius finally broke. His laughter poured out of him, echoed through the street.

“We’ve been living on a fault line, and for a while you were all mine”

It had only been a matter of time until things all blew up, he had already known this. The war had been getting worse and worse each day, the Order had been getting progressively smaller. Sirius should’ve known it would be his life that fell apart in the end, thats just how it went for him. He should’ve known from the first day of this war that things would not end in his favor.

Things between him and Remus had been bad for months. Months of distrust, of resentment. He knew after tonight, Remus would never be able to believe that what they had was real. He would believe it was all a lie, just to get close to all of them so he could stab them all in the back. But his relationships with Remus and with James were probably the only things in his life that hadn’t been lies.

“I’d spend a lifetime giving you my heart”

As the aurors stun him and tie him up, Sirius only wishes they had had more time. He longs for Remus and James.

“I swear that I’ll be yours forever till forever falls apart”

His thoughts of Remus are the last happy thoughts he has for 12 years.

“Till forever falls apart”

[alistair-blackwood]

hey kids wanna see a fic preview??

(howdy! for readers of my tma fics wondering what the heck ive been up to the last month, here’s a little something for you-- yes, you! the full chapter will be posted next week)

(preview under the cut!)

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a man who wanted to save the world, and instead, nearly destroyed it. 

Before he was forced to commit this great evil, the man fled-- but the failed ritual inflicted him with a terrible curse, and he concealed himself inside a dark, lonesome manor. As the years passed and the solitude ate him, he never ventured to the outside world, ever again.

But that was alright. The man preferred it this way. For there remained not one person, living or dead, who was better off for having known Jonathan Sims.

-

"Aren't you lonely, Mister Blackwood?"

THE MONSTER OF MAGNUS MANOR

CHAPTER 1

THE FOG

“Blackwood.”

Martin lurched upright, unfinished letter sticking to his sweaty face. Mister Griffiths was standing in the doorway, his scowl deepening by the second as Martin scrambled out of the desk chair and onto his feet.

“If you’re finished with your nap,” Griffiths snapped, “make your way down to the kitchens at once. Lord Barclay’s guests will be arriving soon.”

“Of course, sir. Sorry, sir.”

With one last, withering look, Griffiths turned on his heel out of the servants’ quarters, and Martin’s shoulders lost some of their tension. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved, or find a good rock to curl under.

At least he’d only been glared at this time.

Martin sunk back into his chair, eyelids threatening to slip shut again. Hard wicker had no right being as comfortable as it was. In all fairness, though, the cold stone floor of the refrigerator would be just as soft right now.

Peeling the letter off his cheek, he flipped it over and groaned. Oh, perfect. He’d gone and completely smudged the thing. Half his face was probably covered in a splotch of ink.

No wonder Griffiths had looked at him like he was dog shite underneath his shoe. At least the dog shite wasn’t going to be late to its shift, now.

He huffed.

At least he’d snuck in a few winks before he needed to get ready. Something was always better than nothing– even if the thick, pulsing needle driving itself through his temples disagreed. Hopefully, it would be enough to get him through today’s shift.

Especially today’s shift.

He tucked the letter underneath his pillow; he’d have to rewrite it later if he wanted it ready to send out tomorrow morning. 

A new uniform was waiting for him in the communal wardrobe, one that Lord Barclay had ordered just for the occasion. His dormmates must have already grabbed theirs– aside from his, the wardrobe was empty.

Bit annoying that they hadn’t even taken the time to give him a quick tap on the shoulder. ‘Hey, Martin, rise and shine, big day today, don’t want to be late!’

Perhaps they’d figured it was best for him to sleep as much as possible. This wasn’t  the day to get sloppy, after all.

Or maybe they hadn’t considered him at all.

He hoped it was the first one.

Uniform slung over his arm, Martin hurried toward the servants’ washroom. He was making good time; with any luck, Griffiths’ scowl would never graduate higher than mildly disappointed. On the scale of the head butler’s ranking displeasure, it wasn’t the worst place to be.

In his haste, however, he bumped into the shoulder of another server. Martin turned, an apology already on his lips, then paused.

“Charles?”

Charles spun around, and his eyes brightened.

“Look who decided to make their way out of bed,” he said, giving Martin’s shoulder a playful pat. “You know Jefferies is going to have your hide if he sees you like that, yeah?”

“Please don’t tell him. He’ll kill me this time, he really will.” His eyes flitted down Charles' figure, brows shooting up. “You … you’re wearing the new uniform.”

“I am, indeed. How do I look?” Charles asked, smoothing down the front of his chest. “Fetching, right?”

“I-I, uh, you …”

It was hard to get the words out. Anyone would look good in a uniform like that; that was why Lord Barclay had bought the bloody things. But the dark red jacket, white gloves, and navy tie complemented Charles’ ginger hair and smile in a way that tangled his tongue something fierce.

Martin’s face warmed, and he hoped it wasn’t obvious.

“You look wonderful,” he said. Then, face growing even hotter, “I mean, um,” he coughed, “it looks really good.”

Charles’ grin widened, and Martin had to stop himself from slapping his own face. Get it together. There was something more pressing here.

“But you’re going to start serving? Today? You’ve barely even finished your apprenticeship.”

“Griffiths needs all hands on deck. I’ll be fine. You’re such a worrywart, you know that?”

Of course Martin was worried. Charles had only been working in the castle for a few months, and Griffiths was going to have him start now? On the night of Lord Barclay’s autumn soirée?

Martin was about to remind him of that when a wave of dizziness crested over him, weakness shivering up his legs. He would have tipped over if Charles hadn’t grabbed his shoulder.

“Whoa, hey, are you okay? You’re looking a little …”

If Martin’s face was hot before, it was nothing compared to now.  “Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Again?” 

“I’ll be fine once I’ve had a wash up.”

Charles’ eyes lingered on him so long that Martin was sure he’d well and truly pass out. After a moment, Charles gave his shoulder a quick squeeze and withdrew.

“You’d best. Well, I need to be off. Ol’ Griffiths is on the warpath. Good luck tonight, yeah?” He winked. “Drinks on me at the pub later.”

“Y-yeah. See you.”

Martin tracked him until Charles left the room, eyes drifting on the corner where he’d disappeared until another dizzy spell swept over him.

Focus. Charles hadn’t been kidding about what Jefferies would do if he knew Martin still hadn’t changed yet.

The reminder had Martin rushing through his wash. Throwing the new uniform on was a struggle; all those foreign buttons and straps kept tangling together, and he got stuck twice before securing the last tie. 

Martin paused in front of the mirror to check himself over. It was... nice enough, he supposed. The most expensive thing he’d ever worn, that was certain. Despite the custom fit, though, the torso still hugged too tight around his chest, and the material scratched at the sensitive skin on his neck.

Luckily, he’d only have to wear it tonight.

With one last glance, he smoothed down his hair and hurried out into the main hallway.

Chaos. The corridors were packed wall to wall with other servants, confused about where they should go, what they should be doing. The crowd smothered him; how had he managed to sleep through this? Now, in the thick of things, his ears were beginning to ring.

“Martin!”

Pausing, Martin scanned the sea of twisting faces. Angelica was elbowing her way through the swarm, drawing sharp cries of pain from her victims, but her expression of dogged determination didn’t change.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she said, as soon as she was within earshot. “I just wanted to say thanks for setting up the guest bedrooms last night. I would’ve been up ‘til dawn if I’d had to do it myself.”

Martin, who had finished outfitting the last of the guest quarters just as the sun was rising, smiled. “I’m glad I could help. Wasn't really fair to you, getting assigned something you aren't used to.”

She nodded in agreement, sage-like. “I swear, Griffiths is out to get me. I’d rather stay in the laundry room where I belong.” Then she reached into the pocket of her apron, pulling out a bundle of cloth. “We had apple slices for breakfast this morning,” she explained, holding the bundle out. “I saved you mine. You know, as a thank you.”

Woken by the mention of food, his stomach spasmed. He hadn’t even spared a thought for breakfast– based on the sun’s height, the servants’ meal hour had long been over. 

Eyes burning, he accepted the gift. “Thanks, Angie. I really needed this.”

She beamed up at him.

From somewhere within the clamour, an authoritative voice rose up. “Come on then, to your stations!”

The tide of the crowd was pushing them apart before the last word faded. “Good luck, tonight!” Angie called as she turned to follow some of the others into the laundry room. Martin waved back to her, and once she had disappeared from view, unwrapped the cloth and bit into one of the apple slices.

Sweet and refreshing. Martin let his eyes slide shut, savouring the crispness. Thank God for Angie. There was no telling when his next meal would be; Griffiths had informed everyone last night that they wouldn't have time for their regular lunch. 

He finished the last slice just as he reached the kitchens. If the hallways had been chaotic, this was a scene straight out of a nightmare. Servers were shouting orders to the kitchen staff, the kitchen staff were dancing around the servers, and everyone inched a hair's breadth away from colliding into one another. It was only through sheer level of experience on the part of the servants that they managed to avoid absolute disaster.

And in the centre of it all was Jefferies, shouting directions and helpful threats in equal measure.

“If a single one of you even so much as serves a smudged glass,” he roared, “the Lord’ll have all our heads!”

The ringing in Martin’s ears had gone from loud to stringent. Bracing against a countertop, he dragged a hand across his face.

Focus.

Plate the food, take it to the dining hall, serve. He’d done it a thousand times. This was the exact same thing.

He just needed to stay focused.

“Here, Blackwood.” One of the servers pressed a tray of champagne flutes into his hands. Taking one more bracing breath, Martin shouldered his way back into the corridors.

Time to get this over with. The frantic noises from the kitchen fell away in increments until, at last, he reached the ballroom.

[bangtanxm]

Bookclub; February Highlight

February is the month of love and as we all know, love doesn’t happen over night. Whether it is angst, sexual tension or pining we all love to be on the edge of our seat hoping and begging that they would finally get together. So, naturally this month theme was “Slow Burn” and these are our our monthly fanfic recommendations from our bangtanxm; bookclub!

In the following you find a list of fics we recommend and reviewed this month. Please support these amazing authors! With every monthly recommendation, there is also a drabble game that everyone can participate in. You’ll find the masterlist at the end of the reviews. Happy Reading!

BOOKCLUB; recommendations

TIDES WILL BRING ME BACK TO YOU by @sujigguk​ [aka @ftyoonmin​]

— Summary; Fate is a funny thing. Humble fisherman, Yoongi, learns this when one evening, it's not a fish that sits at the end of his hook, but a bottle, containing a note claiming that a creature of the sea by the name of Jeongguk has been left stranded on land and is soon to draw his last breath.

bookclub; review

“This story immediately pulls you in with the amazing story-telling. Lou has a way of writing so beautifully detailed that it makes you imagine the amazing scenes in your head vividly. On top of that, it is a really heart wrenching love story, mixed with a wonderful fantasy theme of siren Jungkook and his fishermen Yoongi.” [@softjeon​]

“Wow. So, Tides Will Bring Me Back to You has been on my to read list for quite a while. I regret my choices in not reading it until now. This fic was an absolute work of art. The singular amazing thing I want to point out is the attention to detail. So, we as readers expect fics to be good, especially AUs. Like we want some world building and detail so that we can visualize the setting and location and what is going on with the characters that are being put into this new world. This fic was able to do that but MORE. The attention to the setting detail was unbelievable. There was so much in terms of vivid descriptors and explanations that painted this super vivid and pretty image in my mind. I’m scared of the ocean to be honest, so I have never gone out on a ship beyond like, a lake. And have only ever seen the ocean from the safe confines of the beach. But because of the detail in this fic, I was able to visualize it so perfectly and vividly, it felt like I was really there.I really enjoyed Jungkook as well. Obviously he’s a gorgeous young man in real life, right? Which is why I liked this fic because it wasn’t this stunning perfect man from the waist up, you know? He had the scaly back, the webbed fingers, the sharp and kinda creepy teeth, etc. I think that this made it more “realistic”, as realistic as a mermaid fic can get of course, but like… I don’t know, it felt more real and added a layer of uniqueness to the fic that a lot of supernatural AUs tend to lack in fanfic terms. Also, the ending. Some might struggle with this because it was so ambiguous (no spoilers of course) but I really liked it. Though I’m sure the author had like a set “this is how it is” ending or explainer, I like that it’s this sort of grey area for readers to think on and figure out.” [anon]

“Omg, I really loved this fic. It's a bit longer than I normally read because work sort of keeps me away from reading more than writing haha but I really loved how Yoongi had this NEED to help a stranger he had no idea existed or not. Then to watch their love blossom that way and Yoongi protect Jungkook. It's also cute that Jungkook calls Yoongi 'My Yoongi' and Yoongi first thought it was a mispronunciation of his name. I do love mercreatures too, so that also drew me to this one. I loved the details and the tidbits of background we get from Yoongi and his love for the sea/sea creatures. Sorry, this is just all over the place.” [anon]

BABY BLUE by @chimknj​

— Summary; Jimin is blue. He’s loyal to his customers and confident in everything he does. Namjoon is white. He’s pristine and maintains a perfect balance in life. When the two come together, they create baby blue, a color of freshness and something new. It’s new for both of them, but not all new things are bad.

bookclub; review

“What an amazing story! Even though Minjoon is basically already "together", although Namjoon is just paying Jimin to be there, it is just heartbreaking to read about how Jimin tries to get to know the other more, trying to get him out of his shell and falling in love while he is doing it. All while Namjoon tries to stick to his rules making it so much harder for Jimin, himself and the reader....cause damn!!! I could have screamed the characters sometimes and it literally hurt my hurt so much each time Namjoon pushed Jimin away ;; I can't.... I wanna cry just thinking about it again.” [@softjeon​]

“...beautifully written plot, where you just want to punch Namjoon in the face until he finally reveals his true feelings.” [anon]

“I didn’t mean to consume over 70,000 words in one sitting. I honestly didn’t. Over a few days, over a week. Space it. But I knew I was lost at the end of chapter one, the same way Namjoon knew he was lost the second Jimin’s cute hands started unbuttoning his shirt after date night.Honestly. This fic had everything. I laughed a lot, I cried way more than I’d like to admit to, I had the urge to take a cold shower more than once, I wanted to take Joon by his perfectly ironed lapels and shake the ever-loving crap out of him. Honestly though, it felt like a full-length novel. I mean it was, by length, but also by content. The world that was created was beautifully devised and detailed, and everything from the various business names to the design of the apartments was so easy to visualize due to the richness of the descriptors. Personally, I appreciate that. It adds to the ‘movie playing in my head’ way that I like to read.The smut was unbelievably well written. It was sexy without feeling too unrealistically “porn film fantasy” if that makes sense. Like the progression felt natural and easy rather than being rushed or faked like some fics tend to do. It was clear the author did the required research in terms of D/s and wrote what felt very accurately.I loved the involvement of the other members, I think they all played really great, vital roles as side characters. And honestly, they were so rich in their own right that I would love spin offs about their own arrangements with their respective partners!The ending was absolutely sweet and perfect too. I spent the whole fic praying it’d end in a way that was satisfactory to my wrenching heart and I feel like it gave me every single thing I wanted and more.” [anon]

EVERYGREEN by @softjeon​ & @cassiavioletblue​

— Summary; Yoongi felt that something was wrong the moment he had stepped foot into the garden. He hated that this sense of foreboding could mean anything and he had seen enough to have a very vivid imagination of what could wait in the bushes for him. His grip was tight and ruthless but when he felt he weight of something heavier he startled. In front of him on the grass, bloody and shaking was a deer hybrid; a boy, obviously younger than himself and apparently in a lot of pain.

bookclub; review

“Whuff. There's hybrid fics. And then there's THIS hybrid fic. I know that hybrid fics are one of those things you either love em or hate em, I honestly couldn't find a thing to dislike about this fic even if I tried. Firstly Yoongi as the grumpy on the outside (but squishy on the inside) raccoon is perfection. Imagining his markings and those growls and grumbles -- it's so endearing. And then there's JK who, a deer? Oh come on, I'm soft. Imagining him with the broken little antler and those soft, cute markings V_V It's tooth rotting, I swear. But for all the fluff and sweetness, there's this layer of angst and hesitation that makes this feel like such a deep, melancholy slowburn. The will they - won't they, the pull of each and push back, the "I can't" and "I want" -- GUH. Really, it's just so sweet and perfect.” [@kimlinebiased​]

“I read Evergreen as it came out. It seemed like such a cute take on a trope that’s pretty common in our fandom, but one I’m less comfortable with, so I was really eager to see these authors’ take on it, since I knew I love their work already. The story opened up with action that sucked you in almost immediately, but it really balanced that with some slower, almost peaceful moments. I think that’s a really big draw of this story, really these authors overall, but this one in particular. They have a handle on the ebb and flow of the story. What I mean is, things happen and it’s exciting and oh god cliffhanger, but then things slow down and give the reader a second to breathe (but not too long, because then it would get boring). The balance between breathing space and action can be really hard to balance and I think these two do it really well.  For this particular story, I think my favorite character is actually Namjoon. Sure, he doesn’t have a huge part, but I think he’s super well written and quite in character to the canonical person. (All of them are in their own way, but he sticks out to me). He’s so supportive but not afraid to tell Yoongi the truth even if it’ll sting. Further, he isn’t perfect. He lets his heart get in the way of his head sometimes (like with Jimin) and it makes him really endearing and realistic in a refreshing way. I think that he’s one of those absolutely indispensable characters in this particular world. Like sometimes, it’s easy to switch members, have x play y’s part, y play b’s part, etcetera. But I think that Namjoon’s part was written so perfectly, it fits him like a glove and made it really enjoyable when he was on the page. The plot has some things that the reader can “call” so to speak – like you might read and know there’s gonna be trouble for JK, he’s gonna get tangled up in the mess in some way, but even thinking you know, it’s still done in a way that it doesn’t take away from the enjoyment and “oh no” factor when the big climax does finally get rolling. Just like you know pretty sure, it’ll end happy, I still found myself worried about ‘well what if it doesn’t’. And I think that’s a testament to the authors, really. They are able to take these fanfic tropes and make them feel fresh and new, so even if you feel like you might know what will happen, the way that they weave the story together makes those emotions still hit in a really palpable way.I’d also like to discuss the overall setting of the story. There’s only a few locations that the readers really get a feel for, but particularly the cabin. I think that the descriptions of the cabin and forest and general development of the backstory and setting was really well done. Things like hybrid or other non-human AU’s can be really tricky to keep interesting but still give the right amount of backstory and description so that they aren’t confusing. We as readers need to know the rules, but not have a history textbook, and I think this fic really accomplished that as well.Overall, I just really enjoyed the feeling and emotions that this fic caused. I think that it was able to really convey some important messages while still being woven into a sweet, unique love story. [anon]

THE JUSTITIA PUGNATORES by ShoshinLaurels [AO3]

— Summary; When stable boy Park Jimin's best friend, crowned Prince Kim Taehyung finds himself under threat in his own palace, his guards dropping like flies, the only option left is to call on the Justitia Pugnatores, the 'Justice Fighters.'Three men boasting incredible skill and legendary pasts come barrelling through the heart of the palace, shaking everything in their wake.As the dilemma of the princes impending chances of murder only escalates, Jimin finds himself wrapped up in a mess of secrets, heartache and suspiscion.If only Min Yoongi didn't complicate things. 

bookclub; review

“It's been a while since I read this, but I would happily read it in one sitting all over again. I'm a sucker for royal settings and I absolutely ADORED the dynamics of this one. It's just the right amount of angsty and fluffy, and keeps you hooked throughout.” [@sujigguk​]

“Damn these apples! I really loved this fic out of various of reasons, the relationship between the characters are amazingly written, the setting and overall plot is so well thought out and it just has the perfect mixture between angst, fluff and comedy… i mean, just the first chapter had me laughing so much.” @softjeon​

THE WAY GUCCI LOOKS ON YOU by @joonsrack​

— Summary; “Funny how even in this ridiculously absurd situation, life had made Taehyung a third-wheel. Or a sixth.If Bangtan Dry Cleaning was his fairy godmother, Jimin his little mouse, the jacket his magic dress and the club scene his ball, where the fuck was his prince charming?A knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts.”

bookclub; review

“So, this fic is really is so cute. I started in on it just casually, but found myself entirely sucked in and couldn't put it down until I'd read all that was written on it. Taehyung specifically is such an interesting character - his thought processes and sass are just perfect. I adore Jimin as well. And then there's Jungkook, who is so -INSUFFERABLY ARROGANT- but not in a way that makes you dislike him. He's still so endearing and you WANT these guys to just get off their high horses and kiss or something, but you also kinda want Tae to pour water into his lap because he's such a rich boy. I love it so much. I can't wait for the next part.” [@kimlinebiased​]

“A story that could very well fit a movie! It’s everything you need on a sunday night! You laugh, you want to throw something at their rich faces and scream at the boys to just kiss already. A perfect Slow Burn!” [@softjeon​]

“The way that Gucci look on you (amazing) is such an adorable and absurd (in the best way) slow burn. It’s a wip now, and I honestly cannot wait until the author updates. The case of mistaken identity is such a good trope that honestly, I feel, isn’t done enough. Especially not in such a cute and fun way. Of all the ways for Tae to get outed as not who he said he was – this one was epic. Of course, it’s a slowburn, so you expect the endgame ship to you know, not be huge fans of one another, but the tension here is so palpable, it is awesome. Taehyung cannot stand that cocky little JK and JK’s arrogance is both hilarious and infuriating. But there’s very clearly something deeper to him, and I really like that the author is able to make that clear through hints and clues, rather than just outright saying it. It adds a depth to JK’s character that often gets missed in fics, especially because we know these guys so well, so to speak. Having those sort of subtle nuances really adds to the overall enjoyability of the fic. I think Jimin is such a great supporting character too. He’s the perfect mix of Jiminy Cricket and devil in your ear, so to speak, and his personality comes off as so honest to who he is canonically. It makes him so fun to read. (And the YoonMinSeok trio is helpful as well, what can I say, soft spot for poly even in side pairings). All in all, it’s just an absolutely stunning fic so far and I can’t wait for the author to continue it.” [anon]

UKIYO by Sharleena [AO3]

— Summary; A story of tender tides and unmoving hummingbirds.

bookclub; review

“I'm almost halfway into this story but I really have to rec it cause wow...if you like mafia and urban fantasy themes then this is THAT fic for you listen succbus jimin, mafia leader yoongi, a damn deeply laced mystery that I can't EVEN FREAKING FIGURE OUT I usually can connect a few dots in mystery stories sometimes bUT THIS STORY IS KILLING ME there is someone yoongi is looking for that's destroying his gang and he like DOESN'T FREAKING EXIST and I know once I reach the end I'll be like IT WAS RIGHT FREAKING THERE IN MY FACE lmao but seriously the authors' worldbuilding skills is freaking legendary and I'm always hoe for mixing different themes together and the mix of urban fantasy and mafia just ugh freaking beautiful. The Slow Burn is real in his fic, yoonmins' dynamics are annoying and frustrating as heck but can be really sweet sometimes because they're both very broken individuals and they're trying to find comfort in one another. The themes are obviously very dark so carefully read the tags and also author notes in the beginning so you know what to expect but seriously it's so damn worth it and I will be personally putting a long feedback directly on their Ao3 as well when I'm done because i know I'm going to have lots more to say. BUT SERIOUSLY THIS IS THE SHIIIITTTT SO FAR SO GOOD SO DAMN GOOD I FEEL FED EVERYTIME I READ IT GIVE IT A READ WHEN YOU CAN!!” [@flowerwrites06​]

FAKE SUGAR by minverse [AO3]

— Summary; "I guess," Jungkook pauses momentarily to inhale a deep, bracing breath, "I would just want you to come to my work events and laugh at my jokes and don't correct people if they imply that we're doing it.""Having sex, you mean," Jin clarifies gently, and Jungkook chokes on air. If his face was any redder, Jin would insist on taking him to the hospital. Jungkook clears his throat, obviously trying to play off the strangled, choked sound as a casual cough."Yes. Doing... sex."

bookclub; review

“I love a good concept for fic, and a face sugar dating  au sign me up!!! honestly this is one of my all-time favourite fics, cos its not only funny and entertaining but it has so much heart!!! like i just love the vibe of the fic, and i wish i could keep reading it forever. Plus the characters are so like-able and feel so human. Also jinkook holds a special place in my heart, and jk being all shy in the beginning and jins confidence is an unmatched pairing!!! EVERYONE JUST READ IT, ITS SO FUCKING GOOD, okay im done now sorry…" [@tinysweetscrown​]

“I read this a while ago, and also everything else by minverse... Everything they write is gold, the character construction, the dialogue, the relationship/chemistry, the humour, the plots...just everything. Fake Sugar kept me up at night with its brilliance and originality, i couldn't get enough of jin and jungkook's relationship, but also all the other members' interaction and storyline. It's expertly written and i sincerely think everyone should read it, if they have not already.” [anon]

“Aaaaaah i love this so much!!! I absolutely love the characterisation of jin!!! I find it very refreshing! In some ways it’s completely /jin/ yet in others it’s such a nee and fun way of describing him (the fact that hes a competition eater absolutely sends me its just. So! Jin!) i also love jungkook!!! Tiny gay babie kook having to impress ppl he doesnt want to impress and getting competitive over that dindjdjd once again i could genuienly see it happening! And oh boy oh boy am i excited to see how this story pans out! The little appearances by the rest of bangtan as well i love it! It all flows very naturally and none of the cameos feel forced or anything. AND JIMIN UDJDJDJD I LOVE HIM. the fact that hes just a chaotic brat having dumpster sex and causing trouble oh my god im still crying jsbsjsnjs.” [anon]

The Drabble-Game; MASTERLIST

— prompt; “Romantic attraction is literal: characters feel a pull like gravity to people they’re attracted to. The bigger the attraction, the harder the pull.”

Thank you to everyone who participated! Stay tuned for the next theme of the month to participate!

NUMINOUS written by @softjeon​ & @cassiavioletblue​

— Summary; “You’re fucking kidding me, are you?” He looked up at the ceiling and made an annoyed face. “You really want me to suffer do you? Stupid universe.”

— Join the Bookclub here! — official post — faq

[keepseaveyweird]

Escape | C.B.

Requested: yes! by @coolkidcorbyn :you and your friends signing up to do an escape room right and when you get to the place the dude is like "oh there's actually five other people in your room" and it turns out to be WDW and like you’re wearing your hoodie and it's just so surreal but when the games starts you and bean take charge and he is so impressed by how smart you are and there’s cute little moments and you are solving the puzzles together and basically the boys and your friends are just letting y'all figure it out at this point 

A/N: I have literally never done an escape room in my life so please bear with me and my assumptions as to how escape rooms play out. I loved his idea so much, it was so cute, thank you for sending it!! I know you’re not on here much anymore but hopefully you see this because it’s been like a month since you requested it and I’m sorry.

Word Count: 2548

“Just pick a shirt, let’s go, we’re going to be late for our reservation!” her friend yelled as she shuffled through her closet for an outfit. Annoyed, she grabbed the first sweatshirt she could lay her eyes on, which so happened to be the sweatshirt of her favorite band. Slipping it on and rushing down the stairs, she couldn’t help but be a bit upset, as it was her friends birthday, signifying cute outfits, make up done and hair did, which she didn’t get a chance to do as they rushed her out of the door. Her ripped jeans and plain vans did her no justice compared to her friends, dressed up in skirts and blouses, hair blown out and lashes coated with mascara. She felt small compared to them, and she had wished she wouldn’t have spent  her time curling everyone’s hair if it meant drawing the short end of the stick.

A quick dinner and car ride full of singing later, they arrived at their escape room, which they had fully planned on beating within ten minutes. The three of them strutted up to the counter, as y/n hung back a bit, not feeling worthy of walking the same walk they were in that moment. It wasn’t that she felt inferior to her friends, intimidated or anything of the sort. In fact, it was quite the opposite, y/n had much confidence, could make anyone’s day, could make even the saddest of people break into a smile. Could rock a dress with heels, only to feel just as good in sweats and a hoodie in the same hour. But when everyone around her is dressed up, looking and feeling their best, she couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscience as she stared down at her more-than-casual outfit.

“I’ve got some bad news,” the man at the front desk began, “we’ve overbooked ourselves, and have to put you in with another group of five. I hope that’s alright?”

“What?” the birthday girl exclaimed, “but we specifically requested a private room?”

“I know m’am, I’m so sorry, so did the other group. I can definitely reschedule your game for you if you’d like for a later date?” He asked, regret and guilt plastered on his face. Suddenly, the bell above the door rang, causing everyone to direct their attention to the group of rowdy boys entering the building.

Her heart stopped, her blood ran cold, eyes wide like dear in the headlights. She thought about her hoodie, the red one she had grabbed from her closet, which she decided was the worst mistake of her life. She thought about how her friends looked so good, so well-kept and gorgeous, as they barely gave her enough time to run a brush through her hair. Because when the blonde boy recognized his own merch, she couldn’t help but die a bit inside, just as red as her sweatshirt from embarrassment. There was no reason for her to be embarrassed, to feel ashamed of being caught wearing their merch, but yet she felt the need to bury a hole and conceal herself from the world.

“I love the sweatshirt,” Corbyn started, pointing to it as he nudged Zach’s side to get him to see it as well.

“I-” she started, at loss for words as her five greatest idols smiled at her, “thanks, but I don’t really like the band that much. Just kind of bought it because it looked comfortable,” she joked, using her charming personality in hopes to even out the playing field of her and her best friends.

“Oh,” Corbyn started, looking down at the ground, not sure what to say next.

y/n grabbed his shoulder, looking him in the eye as he brought his head up, “I’m kidding,” she laughed , “I’m a huge fan. I love you guys so much! What are you guys even doing here, you’re so supposed to be on tour right now?”

Maybe she was losing it, maybe her heart and brain were playing tricks on her but when she touched him, made contact with blonde, she swear she felt a spark. Swear she felt a tingle or small surge of energy ignite between his shoulder and her fingertips. Swear she could see the world through his eyes, could make out galaxies from the swirls of green and blue. Because though his eyes looked like the universe and wonders of the world crafted his two iris’ personally, she swore that the heat felt between the two of them could end the world, could lead to a rapid increase of climate change.

And when he smiled, laughed at her horrible joke, she swore this boy could move mountains, could control the tides of the ocean with the snap of his fingers. That his smile alone could bring world peace. And when he pulled her in for a quick hug, she felt at home, felt the confidence she usually felt blast through her body, as he didn’t pay attention to the other three girls standing behind her.

“We’re on the road to our next stop, needed a break and bit of fun,” he explained as he released his grip from her. She greeted the other four with hugs and hello’s, as did her friends, but could feel Corbyn’s eyes on her, could feel the intensity of them from across the room.

The man from behind the desk interrupted, coughing to grab our attention, “so would you guys be okay going in together? May be a bit cramped, but I’ll double your time and give you all a discount?”

The nine of them looked around, before all introducing themselves and entering the room. It was decorated like a home from the fifties; vintage rugs and old kitchen appliances with random objects scattered about. All of them searched for the first clue. Opening chests, cupboards, doors to nowhere. It was then y/n reached for an empty candlestick, only for it to be cemented to the mantle over the fake fireplace.

“Does  anyone see a candle anywhere?” she asked the group. They all shook their head, lost as to where to start. A couple minutes pass, when Corbyn opens a chest only to find a candle.

“Found it!” he announced to eight, a smile on his face as he rushed over next to y/n. As he handed it over, their hands brushed, fingertips momentarily tangled between one another. Corbyn swear he could’ve melted right then and there, as her touch made him feel a way he had never felt before. A feeling deep inside, unknowing, nerving, unsettling, and he didn’t know how to take, how to exactly feel about it, only that he didn’t want it to end.  

Their eyes met, a small smile on both of their faces as she took it from his hands and placed it on the candlestick. Instantly, lights began to blink. 12 lights on, then 15, then 22 and ended with 4. It repeated and repeated, 12,15,22,4. The ten of them began searching again, looking for any hint they could find.

y/n followed behind Corbyn as they passed by an old telephone.

“Wait!” Corbyn exclaimed, taking a step back, “seven digits, like a phone number.” He quickly spun the dial around to the numbers and listened to the line ring twice before the blinking lights came to a halt.

A phone on the other side of the room, next to Daniel, began to ring.

“Hello?” He answered, as if an actual person was on the other line. Eyebrows furrowed, he pulled the phone away from his ear and gave the phone a strange look.

“What’s that face for?” her friend joked. He put the phone up to her ear to let her hear, in which her face contorted into the same expression.

y/n walked over and took the phone from her hand, putting it to her ear. The Wheels On the Bus played over the line, sung by little kids and though it shouldn’t of been creepy, it most definitely was. Her eyes wandered around the room for a moment before quickly focusing on the toy bus on top of one of the shelves which Jonah was leaning against.

“Can you hand me that bus?” she asked politely, as she was much shorter than the tall boy, who reached for it. The moment she grasped it in her hands, the top popped off to reveal a key.

Jack sat down, a scoff leaving his mouth, “I’m done, you two can figure it out on your own,” he mumbled, pulling out his phone. The other seven did the same, sitting around the mock kitchen table as Corbyn and y/n continued to search for clues.

As they were stuck on the last one, a picture on the wall saying the phrase, “an apple a day keeps the doctor away,” they wandered side by side around the room. They began re-opening chests and drawers before looking at each other confused.

“I’m lost,” Corbyn admitted, defeated.

“I just don’t-” she cut herself off as she stared at the vintage oven, a shadow in the window of the door. She rushed to it, opening it up to find a fake apple pie, with the final key inside. She unlocked the door to reveal the check-in room they met in before.

“Okay smarty pants,” Corbyn smiled, “that was good.” The other eight rolled their eyes as they made their way back out into the parking lot but she couldn’t help the flush of pink that crept onto her cheeks as she thanked him.

“It was great meeting you guys!” she told them as all nine gathered around the birthday girl’s van, “sorry me and Corbyn ruined it for you.”

Her friend immediately laughed, “you didn’t ruin it y/n, we’re just dumb,” earning a laugh from all of them.

“Well, we still got a couple hours until we have to hit the road,” Jonah explained, “do you wanna go grab ice cream or something?”

As everyone agreed, the nine of you squeezed into her friends van, Zach and Corbyn illegally squeezed into the back of the trunk, y/n in the back seat in front of them.

“Are you guys okay?” she laughed. They both nodded before the van rolled over a bump, causing them to elbow each other in the stomach and groan.

It was half an hour later, the group squeezed into the large booth of a town favorite, the small ice cream parlor that had been around for decades, since their parent were their age. Jack had convinced the group it was only polite to sing happy birthday to y/n’s friend, in which all eight of them yelled the words, leaving her friend a shade of red while she laughed.

It was then she felt the familiar tingle, familiar surge of electricity she once felt before as she glanced over to see that Corbyn had draped his arm around her shoulder. And she couldn’t help but accept it, to lean into his touch, to melt into his side as their contact only created butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Couldn’t help but look up to see him staring at his friends with soft smile on his face, as though it was a normal occurrence, that it wasn’t the first time they’d met but as if they’ve known each other for a lifetime. So for the hour and a half they all sat there, talking about anything and everything they could think of together, Corbyn and y/n sat there in silence, enjoying each other’s presence, each other’s warmth and touch. The two didn’t need to look at one another to know that the other was smiling like an idiot, was the happiest they’d ever been while in that position.

So when the moment came and they had to stand up from the booth, as Corbyn slid his arm off her shoulder, he couldn’t help but feel the cool air rush to the side of his body where she once was, couldn’t help but want to shiver at the bitterness of their separation. The nine of them walked out to the van, laughing and giggling like they had been all night, as he tapped Daniel’s shoulder to beg him of a request.

“Please, for me?” he frowned, guilting Daniel into muttering a ‘fine’ before climbing into the back of the trunk with Zach.

Corbyn climbed into the van and into the back row of three where y/n sat in the middle, him climbing over to sit on the other side of her and one of her friends. Their shoulders brushed against one another, and immediately the warmth and good feelings came rushing back.

Suddenly, y/n took his hand into his, entangling their fingers as she looked up at him to make sure her actions were okay. He smiled, his eyes glowing and smile entrancing, before giving her hand a tight squeeze, indicating that it was more than okay. The short car ride was full of singing, full of dancing and bouncing up and down in everyone’s seat as they enjoyed their last couple moments together as group, and throughout the trip, their hands remained locked, as the two swayed into one another, as they rested their heads on each other’s shoulders from time to time.

A bit later, they all stood outside the large tour bus, y/n and Corbyn’s hands still tangled together as they said their farewells.

“Thank you for letting us crash your birthday party!” Jack cheered, giving everyone a hug as the others followed suit.

“It was really great meeting you guys, really. Thank you for everything,” y/n told Corbyn who was the last to board the bus.

“Of course,” he smiled, wrapping her in a hug and enjoying her touch for the last time, “I had a really good time, an amazing time actually. You’re amazing, brilliant! Um, do you think we could stay in touch? Like could I get your number? Just in case I’m ever in town again or you happened to be in LA cause you know-” he rambled as she laughed and cut him off.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she laughed as he handed her his phone.

“Okay,” he sighed, “we really need to get going, but I’ll text you!” Corbyn smiled, grabbing her hand and giving it one last squeeze.

“Bye Corbyn,” she said, a smile plastered to her face.

“See you later y/n” Corbyn beamed as he stood in the doorway of the tour bus, before turning around and heading it.

Her and her friends watched the tour bus take off down the road, a small frown on each of their faces.

“I can’t believe you actually got Corbyn Besson’s number,” her friend exclaimed as they loaded back up in the van again, this time less crowded.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed, a message popping up on her lock screen.

Corbyn: Hey smarty pants :)

“Yeah,” she said looking at her phone, a smile from ear to ear as she blushed, “I can’t really believe it either.”And she began to wonder why she was so self-conscious about her appearance at the beginning of the night in the first place.

[upsetapplecart]

Day 3- Hey you, dick bag!

Fandom: All Out!! Prompt: Angst Words: 4903 Rating: PG again? There is a fair bit of swearing, and teenage boys try to beat each other up? Warnings: Swearing. Fist fights near some lockers. More swearing. Another fist fight in a park. Relationships: Matsuo Toshinosuke/ Ebumi Masaru (pre anything more than blushing and crushing.) Characters: Matsuo Toshinosuke, Ebumi Masaru, Ise Natsuki,  Sekizan Takuya,  Hachiōji Mutsumi.

“Hey, you! Yeah, you! Don’t ignore me, you potato faced dick bag!”

It was more screech then shout, and had the voice a physical form, it would have been shoving its way to front of a crowd in an attempt to start a posturing competition with you.

In this it was a summary of it's owner.  

“Ebumi. Dude-“

“Shove off, Ise. You’re a fucking coward, Matsuo!”

Matsuo didn't turn around. He was tired, and well, maybe Ebumi would burn himself out and lay off. Stranger things had happened, Takku’s hair for one.

Logically, he was doing what was best for the team. Subbing himself out so that he wouldn’t be holding them back on the field. No matter how much they postured, talked, trained, it did not change the facts, and the facts were that Mastuo could not give them 110%.

Oh how he wanted to. How he wanted to fling himself into the training with frantic intent. The feeling of actual improvement was addictive as the taste of victory.

But he couldn't. Not with the sound of that cough echoing in his ears. Not with his so fake smile.

He was stepping down so they could step up.

At least the third years had accepted that. Or seemed to have accepted that. Knowing Hachi, he was just biding his time.

“Oi! Come on! You just gonna ignore me? Lame!”

As always, Ebumi had decided to make himself a very loud expectation.

One of his class mates bumped his shoulder, “I’m pretty sure he's talking to you, dude.”

The classmate seemed to be trying to hint to Matsuo, that maybe, if he, Matsuo, had the power, he should put a stop to the ranting lunatic in the school corridor who was following them like a dog behind a suburban house fence, yapping the whole time.

Matsuo would be damned before he gave Ebumi the satisfaction. Matsuo could be sensible and mature about many things in his life, but apparently, Ebumi was not one of them.

“Why would a second-year thug want to talk to me?”

The classmate did his best to look at Ebumi without actually turning his head to look at him, as if eye contact might draw his wrath. To be honest , it probably would.

“Dunno, dude. Isn’t he on your rugby team, or something?” he whispered, hunching in towards Matsuo.

“Maybe he is. There are so many faces, I forget who's who sometimes.” Matsuo said, loud enough that Ebumi was sure to hear.

The screech of rage in response made his heart warm a little.

Smiling now, riding his tiny wave of smug satisfaction at an Ebumi well annoyed, he decided to get going while he had still won this little skirmish.

“Come on, we’ll be late for class.” He said.

A swift glance at a phone screen proved him right. “Oh shit! Dude, hurry!”

The unfortunate classmate ran off down the hall, not loyal enough to stroll with him, but stopping to wave him forward occasionally before running on. Matsuo chuckled and strolled after. You didn't run from a victory. You especially didn't run from Ebumi, because like any speed hunter, he'd run you down.

“That’s right! You run away you-you great big bag of dicks! Fucking coward-“

Matsuo cut of the end of that sentence pretty effectively with the witty comeback of stepping into his class room and shutting the door.

Ebumi retaliated by kicking the door on the other side, making the handle rattle under Matsuo’s hand.

“Dick.” Said Ebumi.

Matsuo nodded, because, yeah, probably.

Then he took a deep breath, and ventured into the classroom, ready to have his young mind moulded, because you can't run a successful business if you can't do math.

***

“What do lame arses even eat for lunch? What you gotta eat to be this weak?”

Leaning through the open lunch room window Ebumi had taken it as an opportunity to resume his verbal barrage from the morning. Not much one for variety, was Ebumi, but he did have an aggressive amount of enthusiasm to level at his few interests.

“Fucking rice balls! Lame!” he said, leaning so far in through the window he was at risk of falling through.

Aggressive being the key word there.

“You have rice balls.” Said Ise from somewhere in the corridor, a sullen voice of reason.

“We’re not talking about me, you dick.” Ebumi’s fist pounded on the window sill, the other swinging out at the end of his arm, ending in an accusing finger. “We’re talking about that arsehole.”

Matsuo kept chewing, his mouth full of lame rice ball, content to let Ebumi wash over him.

The finger drooped a little at the lack of reaction.

Shinshi, who was sitting across from him, opened his mouth, and Matsuo cut him off with a shake of his head and a smile.

You didn't fight rip tides, you let them take you for a ride and then you climbed out at the other end, or so Matsuo had read. That or you drowned, but fighting back did nothing either way.

Shinshi shut his mouth. He didn't look happy about it, but he shut it.

Matsuo smiled vaguely in Ebumi’s direction and put his next lame rice ball into his mouth.

Going by the twitch developing in one of Ebumi’s eyes, this was not how he had intended the interaction to go.

Seeming to decide he wasn’t going to get what he wanted out of Matsuo, he switched tactics and went for the weaker link in the chain. The kinder link.

“Oh? You got something to say? Come on, I wanna hear it! Defend that potato faced fucker. Come on! I dare you!” Ebumi said, leering at Shinshi now instead, all teeth, eyes sidelong to keep watching Matsuo. Gaging.

Matsuo kept on chewing.  

Ebumi huffed. “You gonna let everyone else talk for you, smarty pants? Cat got your fucking tongue?”

“Oh, that’s it.” Shinshi rose like mountains do, slowly and with volcanic violence.

“Shinshi. Don't .” Matsuo warned.

“Yeah come out here! Come on! Have a go at me! Potato face ain’t goanna do it, so come on! Defend him. He’s too much of a coward to do it himself!”

Ise's face became visible in the window. It had the look of someone who was torn between loyalty, and just letting nature take its course. If that meant the end of his friend’s gene pool, well, natural selection wasn't a kind mistress. It was the face of someone who was chewing on their lip in indecision, deep inside their soul.

“Ebumi” he said, “teacher.”

“Oi, You! Get down from that window.” The voice was already tired, and was more than ready to make somebody suffer for making them more so.

“Aw, fuck. Don’t think you’ve won, you potato faced bastard. This isn’t over.”

Pointing at Matsuo the entire time, Ebumi walked backwards from the window, and then, spotting the teacher, bolted down the corridor in the opposite direction. Ise following cold on his heels.

Matsuo could hear shouts of annoyance and anger out in the corridor as they fled the teacher at the peril of anyone in their way.

Shinshi sat back down, graceful for such mass.

“And here I thought he’d been getting politer, more reasonable.”

Matsuo couldn't help laughing at that. “Well, he’s a bit upset.”

“We’re all upset, Matsuo. We want to help, you know that right?”

“Maybe Ebumi thinks he's helping too.”

“Matsuo-“ Shinshi sounded strained, like being unable to fix Matsuo’s problem was hurting him, and Matsuo couldn't take it. There was nothing to fix. He'd said his piece, said as much as he could bare too, and he couldn't take their pity, their well-meant kindnesses. It hurt too damn much. He didn't deserve them.

“Have you finished that assignment we got the other day? That Japanese lit one?” he asked.

Shinshi suddenly looked like he wanted to throw up.  

“Oh no! Aw no. I haven’t. Oh blast.” He shoved a rice ball into his mouth, as if it could stave off his panic, and the potential vomit.

“Do you have notes on it?” he asked, mouth full of rice, meaning it came out more as a panicked, “o yow half nots on it?”

Matsuo smiled and reached for his bag.

“Of course, but a moment.”

“Oh, thank you! Thanks a bunch!”

“No problem.”

He appreciated the efforts they made to talk, but telling would only make them want to help, and well, there was nothing to help. Nothing wrong but his selfish desire to keep playing. To win again and again.

Better to stay quite. Better to keep it all bottled up, with the cap screwed on, oh so tight.

***

“Lame! Lame! Lame! That’s what you are! Don’t even have the dignity to stick around and lose! Laaaame!”

Leaning against the row of windows opposite the third year lockers, hands in pockets, and shouting dramatically, Ebumi looked every inch the delinquent he dressed himself to be.

Matsuo grimaced and continued jamming his text books into his bag. So much for hoping that Ebumi had gotten bored with his little crusade, and that Matsuo would be able to escape home in peace.  

“Lame! I mean, if you aren’t tough enough you could have tried to get better, but no,” his voice became higher pitched, and highly sarcastic, “You’re taking the easy way out, subbing in a first-year. Wah. Wah.” Ebumi punctuated each ‘wah' with an aggressive foot stamp.

Matsuo smiled so hard his cheeks hurt. Choosing not to play, to not torment himself by going all out, when there was no future in it. To not make an embarrassment and a liar of himself, was the hardest thing he'd ever done.

Matsuo, very carefully, did not slam his locker closed.

Ebumi was so close now that Matsuo nearly elbowed him as he turned. When Matsuo meet Ebumi’s eyes, he was still smiling.

“I’m sorry.” He said, aggressively polite to the point where, if he had been a housewife, Matsuo would have been offering Ebumi his worst cups of tea. “Were you talking to me?”

“Oh! Oh!” Ebumi crowed, “The coward speaks! Did you hear that Ise? He can talk.”

Ise’s smile was all nervous and non-committal teeth. He was still over by the window, and looked intent on staying there for the foreseeable future.

“Yes, he can.” Matsuo said, dry as the dessert and feeling about as friendly.

“Yes he can.” Ebumi imitated, leaning in towards Matsuo, hands in his pockets and chest brushing Matsuo’s.

A paper thin gap.

Something about the just contact made Matsuo stand a little straighter, loom a little higher. Lean forward into Ebumis space, just a little more.

Matsuo said, “Now that you have my attention, did you actually have something to say? Or was that all you wanted? My attention?”

“Of course I wanted your fucking attention!” Now Ebumi sounded like the house wife, and desperate.

Matsuo smiled. He couldn't help himself. The opening was just too easy. The jab too petty to leave unsaid.

He leant down closer. “Of course you wanted my attention.” He laughed in Ebumi’s face. All pity. “Oh, Ebumi.” He shook his head in that sad way that disappointed authority figures have, when they had known, just known, you weren't going to do any better.

Ebumi slammed into him and Matsuo crashed against the lockers, still smiling. He laughed a little at the pain in his back.

“Don’t you fucking ‘oh Ebumi’ me!”

Ebumi pulled Matsuo forward by his shirt front and then slammed him against the lockers again. “What happened to all the wanting to win shit? Huh!? Why’d you just fucking give up?!”

“I haven’t given up. We’re still going to Hanazono. I think even you’d remember, what with Gion shouting about it all the time.”

“What the fuck? I’m not talking about the team, shithead.” Ebumi dropped the fistful of uniform and stepped back, hands back in his pockets, pouting for the Olympics.

“I’m not talking about the fucking team! I’m talking about you! Why the hell have you given up?! Oharano, please save me, I can’t catch the ball properly. Oh, your plans are so much better than mine. The fuck they are, Matsuo!”

“Look, Ebumi. I know you mean well-“

Ebumi’s hyena cackle was more unstable than normal. Close to the edge. Desperate in a way that Matsuo didn't understand.

“Fine. You’re a loser. I get it.” He threw his arms in the air, cackled again. “Silly me for thinking you actually wanted to win as much as I do.” He said. And then he turned away.

Turned his back on Matsuo.

“I do.” Matsuo said, an involuntary defence against Ebumis scorn.

Ebumi’s waved hand said, ‘yeah, yeah’ better than words ever could.

It was the dismissal that did it. It held no pity and no understanding, nor did it seek to find them.

It was the fact that Ebumi, Ebumi of all people, was disappointed in him.

Matsuo’s fist was swinging before the more rational side of his brain had time to catch up and put a stop to it.

The fist clipped Ebumi on the side of the head, and never having tried to punch anyone in his life, Matsuo felt a small thrill when Ebumi staggered under the admittedly poorly aimed blow.

He'd been working on his arms.

Ebumi clutched the side of his head, “What the fuck Matsuo? You wanna go?!”

Matsuo laughed. His knuckles stung already, but there was a satisfaction behind the pain. A satisfaction he normally associated with hard training and those fleeting moments when he could taste victory in the air, on the tip of his tongue.

When Ebumi said rugby was like a fight, he'd been right. Matsuo felt almost giddy, the lurking guilt suspended on the thrill of spontaneous action.

With a screech that sounded more like a hyena’s battle cry, Ebumi head butted Matsuo, which, since height difference was a thing, meant he landed a solid crack against the bridge of Matsuo’s nose.

Matsuo staggered, blinking back involuntary tears. He didn't have long to come to terms with this new pain, when thumbs began pushing into the corner of his eye sockets.

Matsuo grabbed at Ebumi’s wrists, and tried to force them backwards, away from his face and his easily damaged eyeballs.

“Ebumi! What the hell!?” Ise shouted.

What little space there had been between them was gone now. Matsuo could feel Ebumi’s breath on his face, heavy and frantic.

The rest of the world had become unfocused, like when a camera in a movie only wants you to watch this character. This one here. All others irrelevant.

Ebumi’s mascara was smudged, and his eyes were red.

Running over Ise locked his arms under Ebumi’s elbows, and tried to drag him away from Matsuo. Ebumi struggled against him, still trying to hook his thumbs into Matsuo’s eye sockets.

The sensible thing, Matsuo thought, would be to let Ise pull him away.

He was so fucking sick of being sensible.

He head butted Ebumi. Not being all that experienced in what needed to be done to deliver a truly devastating head-butt, he went for the biggest, most obvious target, and smacked his forehead against Ebumi’s.

It hurt more than he thought it would.

Ebumi hyena laughed, and spat in his face. Matsuo laughed back, still trying to push Ebumis arms away.

He was bigger than Ebumi. Heavier too. He could feel the strain of Ebumi’s muscles as they pushed up against him.

“Ise!” Hachioji shouted, somewhere in the distance. “I've been- What the?! Matsuo? Sekizan, help me!”

Hachioji arrived several heavy footsteps later, and grabbing Matsuo by the shoulders, put his considerable strength to work, and heaved him away. Ebumi taking pot-swipes for his eyes the entire time, and well, that must mean the maniac laughter was him.

“What the hell, Matsuo!” Hachioji shouted. “If you two get caught fighting you'll be off the team! What the hell were you thinking?”

Matsuo snapped his mouth closed, sealing away the laughter, as all the not thinking that he had just done slammed home with all the gentleness of a well delivered tackle.

The freeing giddiness fled as well, an unreliable teammate.

Experiencing one of those truly depressing existential moments where one really is not sure where to put ones face, Matsuo yanked his arms free and tried his best not to look at anyone.

He hadn't been thinking, and he had no way of explaining that without bringing their concern down on him once more. Concern he was really starting to think he didn't deserve.

His own breathing was too loud in his own ears.

“I wasn't. Obviously.”

“Matsuo-“ Sekizan said.

Matsuo wiped his mouth, and took a steadying breath.

“I’m going home. I’m late to help with the watering.” He said, maintaining eye contact with his shoes, unable to bear the thought, let alone the action, of meeting Taku’s eyes.

He could just tell Taku, but, no- that would just make it harder on Taku, and that wouldn't be fair.

He walked past Ebumi, who was still struggling in Ise’s arm lock. Some of the savagery seemed to have gone out of his movements. Whether that was from fear of hurting his friend, or fear of drawing the Captain's wrath, Matsuo was too tired to guess at.

He didn’t look Ebumi in the eye either.

“Yeah! Well fuck you too, Matsuo-san! Fuck you too!”

“Ebumi!” Ise hissed. “Quit it.”

“Not until he does!” Ebumi shouted, sounding hilariously indignant for someone who had been brawling moments before.

Matsuo went home.

***

“How’d your watering go, fuck face?” Ebumi’s voice said from somewhere above Matsuo’s head, sounding far friendlier than it had four and a bit hours ago.

Matsuo was sitting at the top of a grass mound. Gloriously green, it rolled down into the rest of the park, offering a wonderful view of trees and walking  paths, all of it faded yellow in the glow of the surrounding street lights.

Watering had been a disaster.

His parents had both been paragons of parental concern. Fussing over the fact that he was late, and then, when they got a better look at his face, by the fact that he was late, and had two blackening eyes.

By the time that he had managed to convince them, that, no really, everything was fine, he'd tell them if it wasn't, yes he knew he could talk to them, the watering schedule had been thoroughly disrupted and everyone was just standing about, having their own guilt decorated pity parties.

It was at that point he'd said he might go take a walk, and they'd nodded solemnly at him, as if it was they that were failing him, and not the other way around.

“Fine.” Matsuo said, and kept staring down the hill.

Ebumi shoved at one of Matsuo’s knees with his foot, almost gentle. “Liar.”

“Why would I lie, Ebumi?”

“Cause you’re a liar, Mr. ‘I don’t take the game seriously’.”

“But I don’t.”

Ebumi kicked his knee again, this time with more force.  

“Liar.”

“Would you quit that.” Matsuo shoved the foot away. “What are you doing out here anyway? Running?”

“Do I look dressed for fucking running? No, cause I’m not. I’m fucking out here trying to find out why the fuck you decided to just roll over to that fucking pretty boy.” Ebumi said, huffy as a house cat whose had it's furniture moved about.

“I already told you. He’s better. And I just can’t take this as seriously as the rest of you.” Matsuo said. Lying to Ebumi of all people shouldn't be making him feel this guilty. It wasn't the same guilt as he with Taku either. Taku, like his parents, Matsuo couldn’t bear let down.

Ebumi- Ebumi it was like, it was like lying to-

“Bullshit.” Ebumi shoved his face into Matsuo so fast he nearly head butted him. “Your just scared of a little competition. Got performance anxiety, or some shit. Well listen the fuck up, Matsuo-san, your better than that twerp any day.”

Matsuo laughed. “That’s not the issue, but I thank you for the vote of confidence.”

“Then what the fuck is the problem?” Ebumi said, throwing himself to the ground beside Matsuo.

Matsuo squeezed his own hands together. Why couldn’t Ebumi just leave well alone? Leave him in peace to work through his disappointment and guilt.

“As I said, I don’t take it-“

“And I said I didn’t fucking believe you! Now tell me your real fucking problem so we can get you back out there and win some games!”

“It’s not that simple, Ebumi.” Matsuo said, his smile made his cheeks ache, and he could fell his bones under his hands he was gripping them that tightly.

Ebumi lent back on his elbows so he could kick at Matsuo’s knee again. “In my experience, it usually is. Now talk.”

“And you are, oh so experienced in these matters, Ebumi.” Matsuo said.  

Ebumi ignored him, and pushed onwards.

“The other third years would let you back into the game in a heartbeat, so stop holding everyone back and say yes.”

Matsuo laughed, “I’m not holding anyone back.”

“Sure are. Why do you think we lost against Ryoin?” Ebumi sounded indignant.

“We’re inexperienced, and need to improve?”

“No. Because you weren’t fucking there!” When Ebumi kicked him this time it was hard. It hurt.

Matuso felt his eyes water, and for the second time that day, it was all too much.

Thinking fuck no, he wasn’t going to cry, and not in front of Ebumi of all people, but mostly not thinking at all, he grabbed Ebumi’s foot, and using it as a sling, sent him skidding down the hill.

Ebumi yowled indignantly as he slid across the grass. Scrabbling for purchase he recovered, and lunched himself back up the hill, grabbing the front of Matuso’s shirt with both fists.

“You know what? Fuck you, Matsuo.” He hissed into his face.

Tipping himself backwards, Ebumi dragged at Matsuo’s shirt, so that Matsuo toppled over top of him, and between Matsuo’s weight and the laws of gravity, he rolled them both down the hill.

Bracing his feet against the grass, Matsuo swung a fist up, and managed to slam it into Ebumi’s stomach as he was trying to stand, sending Ebumi straight back to the ground.

Gasping for breath, Ebumi swung his foot out and connected with Matsuo’s jaw, snapping his head back and causing him to skid further down the hill. A desperate grab at Ebumi’s ankle, and Matsuo dragged him down the hill with him.

This time there was no one to stop them. Matsuo was bigger, had more weight to throw around, so theoretically, he felt, he should have an advantage. But Ebumi had that psychotic drive to win known only to small dogs and used car sales men, and so while Matsuo went with the traditional elbows and punching, Ebumi hissed and spat, and generally made himself hard to hold onto, all-the-while, trying to claw Matsuo’s eyes out.

Ebumi eventually struggled to the top of their little brawl. Straddling Matsuo, he braced his knees against the ground, pushing down with his full body weight, and raised his fist to come down like an insomniac’s dream.

And Matsuo- Matsuo started to laugh. Big belly laughs that he hadn’t felt capable of since the coach walked onto their field and everything changed.

Ebumi’s fist froze. He cocked his head. “What the hell, Matsuo?”

“Sorry, sorry. Carry on. Carry on.” Matsuo gasped between laughs, lungs aching.

Ebumi’s smiled crookedly down at Matsuo, and then with a giggle, he brought his fist down to bump gently against Matsuo’s nose.

Matsuo screamed with laughter on impact.

“Fuck, you’re weird. Way to ruin a good fight.”

Matsuo waved an apology, still gasping for air.

Months of being responsible, doing what was right and proper, and here he was, brawling in a public  park with Ebumi at night, when any sensible person should be putting on their pjamas.  

And as far as he could tell, it would be fine, he could blow off this steam with Ebumi, and no one would get hurt. No one would feel bad for him. There was a magic in that.

Ebumi thumped him once on the chest and rolled off to sit beside him, which only set Matsuo off again. Giggling and laughing alternately, until he was almost hyperventilating.

When he finally managed to regain control of his sense of humour, Matsuo blinked away tears, staring up at the sky and feeling lighter than he had in some time, although that could just be the oxygen deprivation.  

The stars twinkle back at him, some peeking out from behind scattered clouds.

“I can’t go to college.” He said eventually.

It was shocking how much less concerned he felt about telling Ebumi that, then his fellow third years.

“So?” Ebumi said. “What’s so good about college?”

Matsuo laughed again. Ebumi would fight anything.

“I promised Taku and the others I would go with them and play. But I can’t. My- my dad's not well, and he needs me to stay and-"

“What’s that got to do with playing now?” Ebumi asked, dog at a bone.

Matsuo waved his hands at the stars as if that could, and would, explain everything.

“Fuck. That would just make me want to play more than ever. I’m not going to college neither, and these two years, they’re all I got left.”  Ebumi looked down at him, and Matsuo made the mistake of meeting his eyes.

There was a challenge in that look, and as always Matsuo wanted to throw himself into it. Knock it down, shove against it, until it caved. Show Ebumi that he wasn't the only one that wanted to win so badly it hurt, and knowing he couldn't felt like rubbing sand paper on his pride.

Matsuo looked away quickly, back to the stars and their more distant gaze.

Ebumi huffed, “Well I’m gonna play the fuck out of what I’ve got left, whether you’re with me or not, and you, you’ve got even less. Would think you’d wanna play while you had the chance.”

Wouldn’t be sensible, Matsuo reminded himself. Would only be prolonging the inevitable.

“We’ll probably lose if I play.” He said instead.

Ebumi’s ‘bah’ was loud in the quite park, “Just pass me the ball. I’ll get us points.”

He elbowed Matsuo in the ribs, “Plus, the other third years are such saps they probably wouldn’t consider it worth winning if you didn’t play.”

Matsuo couldn't help his fond smile. They were saps, the lot of them.

“You can be rather disrespectful at times, Ebumi.” He said.

Ebumi threw back his head and cackled up at the stars.

As the sound faded into the night, Ebumi stared back over at Matsuo, and he looked less sure this time. A little more nervous.

“I'm sorry about, you know.” He made a gesture that suggested it explained the ‘you know'.

Matsuo raised his eyebrows.

“Not about hitting you! About your dad, you idiot! If you need hitting again, I'll do it.” Ebumi said, nervousness blown away by indignant rage.

Matsuo felt the dopy smile on his face again, and he was certain that rage filled rants should not be this endearing.

“Thanks, Ebumi.” Matsuo said, “And, I'll try not to be such a lame loser.”

“Urgh. Whatever.” Ebumi said, and stood up. He offered Matsuo a hand, wiggling his fingers.

Matsuo sighed, took it, and let Ebumi pull him up.

They stood like that for a moment, hands joined. Matsuo looked down and looked back up at Ebumi, he had that glazed look he had going on sometimes when Matsuo came over to congratulate him on  particularly good try he'd just managed.

Matsuo smirked and tipped his head down at the joined hands.

Ebumi meet his eyes, blushed red as the team colours and yanked his hand back, wiping it on the front of his shirt.

Ebumi said. “Er, so, your parents gonna approve of you going home looking like that?”

Matsuo stopped smirking at Ebumi’s blush and looked down at his dirty hands and grass stained shirt. “They won’t be too hard on me about it, but I'd really prefer not to come home looking like I'd been in a fight twice in one day.” He rubbed his hands on his pants and then inspected them, no luck. “I might be able to sneak in the back door?”

Ebumi dug the tip of his shoe into the grass. “There’s a corner store not far from here. We could get some baby wipes or something? Try and clean you up a little?”

Matsuo couldn’t help himself, he ruffled Ebumi’s hair. “That’s not a bad idea.”

Ebumi knocked the hand away, blush still proudly red.

“Fuck off. Come on, it’s this way.”

“I'm getting mixed signals here, Ebumi.”

Ebumi gave him the one fingered salute and stomped off across the park, grumbling to himself, with his hands shoved deep in his pockets.  

Maybe, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to tell his friends. He'd been worried that they would take pity on him, or try to talk him out of his decision, but Ebumi hadn't-

“Matsuo, are you coming or what?”

“Coming. Coming.”

He jogged to catch up with Ebumi.