#what's another seventeen news stories to shove into the show anyways

[lastweeksshirttonight]

welp

[cxffecoupx]

what 2 am with them looks like

seventeen × gn reader comfort, healing (kinda, idk) warnings: mentions of making love, food wc: 1.3k author's notes: this was a random thought, and has been in my drafts for so long, so i decided i had to complete it. writing this gave me a peace i didn't know existed, so i love this work very much. i hope you guys love it too <3

➼ choi seungcheol

in bed. he's probably fucking you into the next week, making you cum at least 5 times before he kisses you gently and washes you up and prepares to sleep. if not this, then you're probably on your side of the bed. the other side of the bed remains empty, because your cuddly clingy boyfriend is wrapped around you, strong arms trapping your movements and legs tangled together.

➼ yoon jeonghan

dumb conversations. lying in bed, your head resting on his arm, your arm wrapped around his torso that shakes with the laughter. it's probably one of your lame jokes that only he finds funny, or one of his hilarious stories about seungkwan and chan, but it's got you both clutching your stomachs after a while. he pulls you close with his arm that's under your head and presses a light kiss to your forehead before finding another interesting topic. when do you sleep that night, that's a question you both have no answer for.

➼ hong jisoo

deep conversations. you're both sitting in your bedroom, hugging pillows as you slip into deep conversations about the universe and your future. you aren't sure how you got here, you were in your bed to sleep one moment and in the next, you're both sitting as you talk about your wedding and your house and the stars and the moon and his mom and his job; the conversation flows easily into the next topic. he only stops when he sees you suppress a yawn for the 3rd time before kissing you and suggesting you both go to sleep.

➼ moon junhui

watching cat videos. it all started a few hours ago, with you and jun on either side of the bed, scrolling through phones. you roll over to him, perfectly landing your head on his chest as you show him your screen. "look junie," you said as you shoved the phone into his face. he chuckles before holding your hand and focusing on the video of an orange cat tripping over it's own feet. he laughs watching it, and it ends up in you lying on his chest as you both watched every single cat video available on the earth. your laughs filled the room and tears filled your eyes, but it felt so good, spending time doing silly things like this.

➼ kwon soonyoung

passive watching soap operas. its the time of calm and quiet after the rush of the day, so when you turn on the tv after dinner, you stay like that until late hours. except the focus has moved from the drama on the tv to drama from work. from sitting at the ends of the couch, you end up tangled somehow - his head resting on your lap or him sitting on the floor, hands held with yours. the tv drones on at a low volume, but by then you've both shared all the tea from your work and are giggling over the littlest of things. in the morning, you're both probably on the floor, one of the cushions as a pillow and keeping warm by hugging each other.

➼ jeon wonwoo

playing games. after much practice and pain, you'd finally gotten better at the games wonwoo often played. most nights you'd be a team going against your other friends, but sometimes you prefer to play against him. and when that happens, it ends in either of the two ways: you're winning and start shaking your hips, or he's winning and decides to deliberately lose to help you win. either way, he wants to see your happy lil dance.

➼ lee jihoon

in his studio. jihoon's seated in his studio, working on a new track. when you arrive, he immediately pulls you to him, making you sit on his lap as he hands you his headphones. you look at him, confused, but wear them anyway and listen as he plays the track he was just working on. as you fall deeper into the melody of the song, he grips your hips in anticipation. it was a song to you, from him, containing the most heartfelt emotions he'd felt for you, but couldn't communicate properly. so he decided to put them into a song, a language he speaks so well and one that you understand.

➼ lee seokmin

having breakfast cereal. you'd gone through great lengths to find and buy the brand of cereal you both highly enjoyed. so now that you have it, why wait for the morning? when he wakes you up in the middle of the night, anxious and groggy about your reaction, he'd worried you'd judge him. but maybe it's the sleepiness hanging in his mind that he forgot you both basically share the same braincell. so the next minute you're stumbling into the kitchen, looking for bowls and cartons and giggling over spilling milk and noisy spoons. by the time you're done, your stomach's filled with food and heart's filled with love.

➼ kim mingyu

moments of soft intimacy. the evening goes by peacefully: you both come home, tired and exhausted; have a silent dinner mingyu lovingly prepared and talk about work; after some leftover work you both head to bed. but slowly, the stroke on the cheek becomes kissing, drawing shapes on your back as you kiss and nip at the base of his neck. mingyu's vulnerable now, only with you, but neither of you are in a rush to haste. his hands cup over your ass and thighs; your hands are braided in his hair. his palms knead the flesh of your breasts; your fingers gently brush across his chest and abs. whether or not you make love comes later, but you sleep peacefully in each other's embrace.

➼ xu minghao

sky-watching. when you poke him awake, he's definitely concerned, but the first thought that pops to his head when you say you cant sleep is to go sit in the balcony. so now, at 2 am, you're in the balcony, a cup of warm tea in your hands and xu minghao at your side. its silent, but its a comfortable silence that wraps around you like a blanket, and warmed up by the tea he specially made for you. and although for others, the silence might seem awkward, minghao knows that this is exactly what you need to escape from the thoughts racing around in your mind.

➼ boo seungkwan

late night walks. seungkwan's energy peaks after he comes home and sees you, so walks to tire you both out becomes a staple in the routine. youre walking the streets in matching hoodies (that's because you take one of his) and even in the cold, he makes it a habit to hold your hand in his. you wander through new streets every night, discovering new neighbourhoods, having a quick snack from the convenience store, and usually stumble over a park or play area. you can feel seungkwan's eyes light up and the next thing you know, youre on the swings, side-by-side. with the little squeeze of your hand, he lets you know he's ready to go back.

➼ chwe hansol

watching a movie. to hansol, any logical being would be asleep at this hour. (un)fortunately for him, you weren't as logical as he thought. but maybe he enjoys it because why else would he allow you to keep him awake at this ungodly hour, watching 'Tangled' for the twentieth time now? all frowns erase the moment he sees pascal on the screen, and a smile places itself. he becomes so engrossed in the movie he doesn't even notice that you'd fallen asleep about halfway through the movie. when he does notice tho, he silently closes the laptop and places it away, before slipping back into the bed to get his precious sleep.

➼ lee chan

listening to him talk. chan loves to talk, and you love to listen to him talk. while mostly by this time you're both dead asleep, sometimes you end up in the balcony, the wind playfully ruffling his hair as he goes on and on about something he's so so passionate about. it could be the most trivial things, but the way his eyes go wide as he's expressing his emotions and the way they catch the moonlight in them like little stars. you're gonna be pretty tired the next morning, but when chan's with you, you couldn't care less.

[musicprincess1990]

33&9?

9: Date sabotage; 33: Omegaverse. Taken from this list, prompts are closed for the time being.

Sorry this is so late my dear! I have no excuse, other than me being a space cadet. 😜

Also, OOF. Y’all just love forcing me out of my comfort zone, huh? Alright-y then, here it is. (Don’t let me fool you, I fucking loved writing this!) It’s not smutty, mainly because I’m still new at writing smut, but I’m calling it M-rated anyway, just in case. And as such, the story will be under the cut, for those who don’t enjoy the M-rated stuff. Thanks again for the prompt!

The Heat of the Moment

Molly was fuming.  Seething.  Practically steaming as she all but leapt from the cab as it stopped in front of 221B Baker Street.  Her heels clacked furiously on the stairs, and she damn near rolled one ankle on her way up, which only served to fuel her anger.  If Mrs. Hudson heard her—if she was even in—she must have known better than to approach.  In the flat above, the sound of a soft, soothing violin melody met her ears, but had no effect on her whatsoever.  She was far too cross to be soothed just now.  She stopped in the open door to the sitting room, giving the figure by the window a murderous glare.

“Evening, Molly,” Sherlock greeted as though nothing was wrong.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she screeched.

Sherlock had the decency to wince at her volume, though he slipped almost immediately back into his mask of cool indifference.  “That depends on who you ask, I suppose.  John likely has a long list.”

Her vision tinted red, and an angry flush rippled beneath her skin.  “YOU HAD MY DATE ARRESTED, YOU TWAT!!”

“Really, Molly,” he scolded, “there’s no need to shout.  He was a criminal.  I did you a favour.”

“He had one ASBO from when he was seventeen!”

Sherlock gave an unaffected shrug.  “Criminal activity in one’s youth significantly increases the chances one will turn to crime again later in life.  Better to be safe than—”

“Sherlock Holmes, if you don’t stop talking right now, so help me God, you will never see another body part from the morgue again!”  At this, he finally shut up.  “Good.  Now for the last time, stop meddling in my love life!  You have absolutely no right, none at all!”

“Molly,” he tried to interject, but he was overridden.

“Every date I’ve had for the past two months, you’ve somehow found a way of ruining it!”

“Molly—”

“Well, I’m sorry if you don’t like that I can’t be at your beck and call twenty-four hours a day, but I’m a grown woman and I have wants and needs, and not all of them involve you!”

That, it seemed, was the wrong thing to say.  Sherlock’s eyes flashed, and in a split second, he crossed the room and took hold of her wrists, shoving her against the wall behind her and lifting her hands over her head.  Molly struggled against him, still flushed with anger and—

Oh.

That wasn’t just anger.

Shit.

Her insides quivered as he loomed over her, nostrils flared and eyes flicking over her face.  The heavenly scent of him grew stronger, sharper, as a result of both her growing heat and his responding arousal.  And oh, he was aroused, the tent forming in his trousers made that abundantly clear.  It’s just a reaction to the heat, she told herself.  It’s not me he wants, not really.

“I believe you’re lying, Molly Hooper,” he murmured, pitching his voice lower than normal, and she drew a shuddering breath.  “I believe all of your wants and needs involve me.”

“Sh-shows what you know,” she tried to bite back, but it came out sounding more like a sigh.

“Tell me to stop then,” he challenged her, and then bent his head toward hers.  Against her will, Molly felt her own head tip back, bringing her lips closer to his, but still not quite touching.  With one hand still pinning hers to the wall, he trailed the fingers of his free hand up her side, ghosting over her hip, her waist, barely grazing her breast, and Molly let out a whimper.  “Well?”

“You-you don’t want m-me,” she stammered.

His eyes flashed again, and Molly barely had time to take a breath before his lips crashed against hers.  Everything seemed to spin as he swept his tongue along the seam of her mouth, demanding entrance, and she relented with a low whine at the back of her throat.  He tasted like dark chocolate and mint and a hint of cigarette smoke, and it was everything she’d ever imagined and more.

Breaking the kiss, he met her gaze again.  “I want you more than you can possibly know.  I only avoided this out of respect for you.  You deserve better… you deserve everything.”  He swallowed hard.  “But I don’t think I have the strength to resist anymore.”

Molly’s mind was growing foggy, but she still had enough clarity of mind to understand his words, and to see the truth of them in his eyes. And in contrast to the words themselves, he seemed to be hovering just on the edge of taking action, holding back and waiting for her response.  All her fears subsided, and with a quiet surety, she reached up a hand and brushed her thumb along his cheekbone. 

“Then don’t.”

[charcubed]

hey char, mind to share your fave stevebucky headcanons? 👀

Oh I LOVE that you asked me this :’)  Thank you!

I honestly have so many if I really think about it because I love them so much and I think about their dynamic so much that I have so many favorite things... but here is what I think of off the top of my head:

• Steve was color blind before the serum, according to canon. I have a headcanon that Bucky used to try to describe colors to him. I wrote a mini fic about that here.

• Bucky was drafted for the war, but didn’t tell Steve. Steve sort of assumed that Bucky enlisted, and Bucky never wanted to correct him. How could he? Steve wanted to enlist so badly, and Bucky didn’t ever feel like he could admit that he didn’t have the same drive to want to ~fight for the country~ like Steve did. He didn’t want to disappoint him and he was afraid Steve would think he was a coward. So Bucky just... never told him that he was forced into war. It was never his choice to fight for the country. If it was up to him, they would’ve stayed home together and stayed safe and never fought at all.

• They were always physically rough with each other, in the sense that they'd wrestle as boys all the time, and Steve loved that Bucky never treated him as fragile. Buck knew he could take it. Even after the serum, they'd still scuffle a bit like kids, finding a bright spot in a war-torn world. They’d be awake in the trenches on lookout, having soft conversations in the night, and shoving each other after one says something stupid or makes a bad joke.

• Steve is bi, and Bucky is gay. Bucky was consciously aware of his feelings for Steve way, way before Steve was aware of his for Bucky. In the 30s, Bucky has a bit of a reputation for ~dating around,~ but not in a rude ladies’ man kind of way but rather his reputation is “Bucky Barnes is a real charmer. He’ll show you a good time and he’s really sweet, but he never pushes your boundaries.” Some women wishes he’d push their boundaries, but he doesn’t. He’s taken so many women out on dates because he never lets it get super serious, since they’re not who he wants and it’s mostly for appearances’ sake, especially since he and Steve live together. He definitely enjoys hanging out with women, and treating them nice, but most of the time his motivation is to try to set up double dates–half because Steve deserves to find a great girl to date, and half because a double date means Bucky can selfishly do a date activity “with” Steve and not have it mean anything. Meanwhile though, Steve gets jealous as hell and testy about Bucky dating all the time, but he’s oblivious to the fact that it’s because Steve wishes Bucky would be with him instead.

• Their first kiss was when Steve was 16 and Bucky was 17. I’m not necessarily saying that’s when they actually got together, but something significant happened between them at those ages... maybe they kissed because they were drunk, or it was so Steve’s “first kiss” would be someone he knew and it was for “practice.” And then they both never talked about it again, because they’re idiots and were afraid to ~ruin things~ between each other. That’s why Steve says “Rumlow said ‘Bucky’ and all of a sudden I was a 16-year-old kid again, in Brooklyn.” That’s why “seventeen” is one of Bucky’s trigger words as the Winter Soldier. It checks out, because Bucky is a little bit older than Steve.

• Steve doesn’t fully admit the depth of his own feelings for Bucky to himself until he finds out Bucky’s been captured by HYDRA. And then he tears Europe apart to get him back. He’d have done that anyway, obviously, but... the prospect of losing Bucky forever is really what makes him realize how much he can’t handle that concept. Because he’s in love with him.

• After Bucky “dies,” Steve gets more reckless, and that’s part of the reason he put the plane in the ice and didn’t try to survive: he didn’t want to live in a world without Bucky in it. This is supported by canon. And so I headcanon that, after Steve finds out about the Winter Soldier, one day he abruptly realizes that he could’ve died in that plane crash and never known Bucky was alive and brainwashed and suffering. He thought Bucky was dead and he wanted to follow him, and he could’ve left Bucky even more alone in the world without knowing it. When Steve realizes how close he came to leaving Bucky behind like that, he throws up. It horrifies him to think about it.

• They each have a pair of dog tags where one says “Steve Rogers” and one says “Bucky Barnes.” They swapped one tag each, so that they’d have a matching set, because while they couldn’t list each other as “next of kin,” they wanted tangible evidence that would show other people how important they are to each other. So people would know: tell him if something happens to me.

• Their Brooklyn accents come out / get heavier around each other, especially if they’re bitching about things or arguing.

• Bucky is a complete sci-fi and fantasy nerd–which is now confirmed canon, and I love it. In particular, I like to headcanon that he loves to read paperback sci-fi novels, and discount romance novels. He unironically enjoys them, and he leaves them allllll over the place. One of the things they love to do is Bucky will sit around and read while Steve will sit around and draw/paint, and half the time Steve gets distracted sketching Bucky’s facial expression he makes while he’s reading.

• Bucky is also a pop culture gremlin. He will try and often get interested in pretty much anything and everything, without rhyme or reason. In modern day, he and Nat will watch trashy reality TV together–sometimes to make fun of it, sometimes to get invested. Steve thinks they’re insane for that. And sometimes Bucky will like one niche thing but then for very specific reasons he dislikes another similar thing. It makes sense to him, even if Steve doesn’t get it.

• Steve tends to be pickier with the kind of stuff he enjoys. He’s always had Strong Opinions™️ on everything, including and especially art. Put him in a museum and he’ll have a lot of thoughts on all of it. He doesn’t judge things or hate on other people for liking things he doesn’t like at all, but he won’t get hooked on a movie/show quite as easily. The one exception is animation, which he absolutely adores, and he goes on a wild binge of all kinds of animated content for awhile–shows and movies–because the various art styles and uses of the medium to tell crazy stories just fascinates him.

• Easy access to so much music is one of their mutual favorite things about the 21st century. Bucky often gets into individual artists’ entire discographies and becomes a fan, whereas Steve often gets into a handful of specific songs from a wide range of various people. Like... Bucky will often love an entire album, and Steve will often love 2 songs specifically more than others. But even with that, Steve loves collecting vinyl records–both old and new ones.

• Bucky has a fantastic singing voice even though he’s shy about it, and he tends to hum along to music when distracted or working on something else–especially while making something in the kitchen. 

• Bucky likes technology more than Steve; Steve likes physical stuff more than Bucky. Bucky loves to take photos and videos of things all the time, hoarding digital memories in a way that’s precious to him, knowing that they’re “safe” and accessible anywhere. They lost so much of the objects that they loved a century ago, and photos were scarce, but now... there are endless ways to have pictures. When Bucky was recovering in Wakanda and Steve was on the run, Bucky would often text Steve photos–sometimes without captions–to wordlessly share bits of his days with him. He’s got a good eye for photography, except for when he takes the photo equivalent of shitposts to make Steve laugh. Regardless, Steve gets his favorites printed–some of Bucky’s photos, some of his, some of their selfies–so they also always have something tangible to hold onto.

• Bucky calls Steve “sweetheart” sometimes, just to be a little shit–and he means it. It makes Steve turn red every time, without fail, but he secretly doesn’t mind it.

Okay I’ll stop hahaha. Those are the main ones that come to mind for me all the time when I think of them! 

Thank you again for asking :D  This was so fun to write all in one place!

[themculibrary]

Outsider POV Masterlist 2

Links Last Checked: April 13th, 2024

part one, part three, part four

A Good Kid (ao3) - kuragay may/oc G, 4k

Summary: Ricky thinks that May’s an exceptional woman, and he thinks that Peter’s an exceptional kid. But there’s no denying that the Parker household is full of mysteries, and most of them are centered around Peter and his supposed internship with Tony Stark.

Big Secrets, And Other Things To Talk To Your Therapist About (ao3) - Aimael pepper/tony N/R, 9k

Summary: How Dr Lauren McKinley, psychologist, randomly acquired not one, but two new clients of the superhero kind, because she was a little too curious to say no.

Everyday Superhero (ao3) - stoneage_woman T, 63k

Summary: When a field trip to Stark Industries ends in disaster, Roger Harrington finds himself faced with an impossible choice. Suddenly, Tony Stark is shoving an NDA in his face while Peter Parker stares at him with terrified, desperate eyes. Nothing in his 13-year teaching career could have prepared Harrington for this, but he knows one thing for sure: ten years ago, he’d stared down into the sightless eyes of a seventeen-year-old girl, and he’d sworn to himself that he would never again lose another student. He’s going to do everything in his power to keep that promise now…even if it costs him everything.

Set during and post Spider-Man Homecoming. A realistic field trip story that also explores the long-term consequences of trauma and responsibility, written by a real-life teacher.

Five Time Faculty Members Had to Call Peter’s Emergency Contact + 1 Time He Shows Up Anyway (ao3) - kingdomfaraway G, 9k

Summary: “Peter,” Jim started, “if you’re more comfortable with your Aunt, we can reschedule for another time.”

“Nonsense,” Tony said, speaking before Peter could. “She’s a very busy woman, I, on the other hand, have all the time in the world.”

Jim kept eye contact with Peter, who just nodded. “It’s fine, I’m sure he would show up anyway…”

Tony gave a very smug grin to both Peter and then to Jim.

House Party Protocol (ao3) - Brosedshield pepper/tony T, 3k

Summary: Henry Hernandez worked in construction. He built things, fixed things, and he made his (modest, middle-class) fortune building and fixing for one Tony Stark, genius and disaster of Stark Industries. And their connection happened mostly by accident

A retrospective on Tony Stark from the guy who puts in new windows after parties, repairs blaster burns in the labs, and knows that Mr. Stark's computer's name is Jarvis and he's really very intelligent. Most action takes place in key points in IM3.

IM Spotter (ao3) - Gyptian G, 2k

Summary: Floriana has headed up the IM Spotter club, New York branch for years, in a certain cafe with a very good view of Stark Tower. Never has she dreamed of having such a special guest, however.

Meeting Pepper Potts (fanfiction.net) - AngelShep 

Summary: Each Avenger met Virginia "Pepper" Potts in their own memorable way. This is how. Pepperony. Just a little light-hearted one-shot.

Mutants (ao3) - sameuspegasus N/R, 3k

Summary: All teachers dread parent-teacher night. This one’s worse than usual.

Feat. Boundaries? I don’t know this word. He’s not my boyfriend! Flash Thompson’s A+ parents Tony and Peter are enormous nerds Gym class is important Oh my God, what’s that in the bio lab

Open for Business (ao3) - opal_earrings T, 3k

Summary: Jake likes his night shift at the gas station in the middle of nowhere because nothing ever happens. The only reason he took the job is because nothing ever happens.

But then something actually does. A teenager comes in covered in blood and asking to use his phone, and somehow that’s not the strangest thing that’s going to happen during his shift tonight.

Peter Parker: Intern Cryptid (ao3) - Karu_Ambrogio T, 9k

Summary: The 5 college level interns, who actually interacted with Tony Stark himself on occasion, would be jealous of the 16 year old Peter Parker appearing from nowhere and being the obvious favorite if they weren’t so busy being terrified by him.

Progress Report (ao3) - sameuspegasus N/R, 10k

Summary: Ms. Warren has some questions for Tony Stark regarding the exact nature of Peter’s internship. She gets invited to the lab to see for herself.

quaranteens (ao3) - blueh T, 6k

Summary: “Peter Parker,” Cindy says. Peter’s head snaps up so fast that it almost looks inhuman. “Did Tony Stark just waltz in and pick up his child in the background of your Zoom call?”

Peter freezes. Wide-eyed, with ‘guilty’ written on his forehead in 72, bold, Times New Roman font. It takes a solid thirty seconds before he can put himself together enough to click the unmute button.

“I—no?” Peter says. His voice is startlingly high pitched and his expression is nothing short of horrified.

Damn, if that isn’t anything but a confession.

Or: a day in the life of the quarantined high school spider-kid, as seen through the eyes of his first-period chemistry class.

research and disaster (ao3) - blueh T, 9k

Summary: The interns at Stark Industries have some questions about Peter Parker. The answers aren’t quite what they expect.

When in Vegas... (ao3) - pherryt bucky/clint G, 1k

Summary: In retrospect, everything lined up in a logical fashion - True Disaster Barton style all the way - and yet Kate still finds herself surprised to hear the news.

[bread-writes]

Hello. May I request a oneshot about Jake Kim celebrate valentine's day with his girlfriend please? Thankyou!

i’m late for valentines rip-- oh well lmao 

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this, anon!

Spoilers for Jake if you squint near the end.

Writing under the cut!

Jake Spending Valentine’s with His Girlfriend

Jake is--and probably always will be--a busy man. Whenever he completed a stack of paperwork, three more would suddenly appear before them. But, despite his misgivings and less than favorable life, he had you; the light in his usually dark life.

With Valentine's just around the corner, more and more work was passed on to him so the others could spend time with their lovers. As much as he wanted to just pass all of his work onto Jerry (he knew that the boy would do it if he so much as asked) he felt bad for leaving a kid with so much paperwork.

The door creaked open, revealing Jerry. Jake sent the younger boy a nod of acknowledgment, ushering him closer with a flick of his wrist before turning back to the paperwork with a sigh.

"Was there something you needed, Jerry?" Jake squinted at the small text of the report in his hand, running his free hand through his hair as a means to calm himself down. A soft sniffle came from the seventeen-year-old, causing Jake to raise a brow as he looked up from the document in his hand.

"Jerry, seriously, are you alright--"

"I deeply apologize, Jake." Jerry wiped the lone tear from his cheek, "Please forgive me."

"Wait, what--?"

Two familiar sets of arms wrapped underneath his arms, lifting him off the chair with ease. Jake could only blink as Jason and Brad continued to drag him down the winding path that led to his apartment complex They finally stopped at his doorstep, dropping him unceremoniously onto the ground before knocking on the door.

You emerged from the apartment, tiredly rubbing your eyes as you glanced between the four men. When your gaze landed on your lover, you rose a brow before slapping your forehead with a groan in realization.

"When I told you it would be nice to spend Valentines with Jake, I did not mean abduct him--what if he was busy?"

"I actually was busy. Thanks for asking, by the way," Jake cut in, rolling his now stiff shoulders. Jerry visibly deflated as he fiddled with his fingers while mumbling an apology. You accepted Jerry's apology with a pat on his shoulder before offering Jake your hand. He gratefully took your outstretched hand, pulling himself onto his feet.

"This was a pleasure," he began, "but I really should be getting back." He turned around, only to be stopped by Jason and Brad blocking the exit. Jake rose a brow, glancing between the two, "...What are the two of you doing?"

"We're putting you on temporary leave. Don't worry about the paperwork, we'll handle it." Jason brushed off his unspoken concerns motioning to you with his wrist.

Jake could only sigh, letting out a chuckle as he pushed his hair back, "I suppose a few days off wouldn't hurt." He glanced at you, a minuscule smile making its way onto his lips. You grinned back up at him, leaning in to place a peck on his cheek. The two of you bid goodbye to the three other Big Deal members before making your way into your shared apartment.

"So... Valentine's Day is tomorrow, right?"

"Wow, I'm surprised you actually remembered; being swamped up in your work and all."

"Oh, shut it." He snapped back, letting out a grunt as he flopped onto the worn couch. You snorted, taking your seat by his side as he continued to scroll through the seemingly endless amount of shows the streaming service had to offer. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest. You sighed contentedly at the familiar feel of his body heat, tracing the carefully inked lines of his tattoos.

At the sight of your favorite show, you tugged on his shirt, eyes sparkling as you excitedly pointed at the screen. Following the point of your finger, Jake grimaced, "Seriously, that one again? Haven't we watched that eight times already?" You shrugged, grounding one hand on his chest while the other reached out for the remote. He smirked down at you, outstretching his arm just barely out of your reach.

Curse him and long limbs.

Jake let out a garbled cry as you shoved his face away, lunging and successfully retrieving the remote.

"Ow, what happened to treating your boyfriend with love for Valentine's, huh?"

"What happened to letting your girlfriend watch her favorite show for Valentine's, huh?" You dangled the remote tauntingly in front of his face before resuming your place by his side.

He rolled his eyes, glaring at the show from the corner of his eye, "Fair, but can we at least pick another show?"

"Watcha gonna do if I say no, Mr. Big Boss?"

What you weren't expecting were his nimble fingers to dance along your sides--a dirty tactic that would only work on you, seeing that Jake was, unfortunately, not ticklish in the slightest. You screeched, dropping the remote before succumbing to a fit of laughter. Jake's eyes softened at the sight of you laughing, tears streaming down your face as you begged for mercy.

How he wished these sorts of days would last forever.

As his fingers ceased their movements, you greedily gulped in air, wiping at your tear-stained cheeks. Just as you were about to berate him for using such an underhanded tactic, he slanted his lips against yours in a soft kiss. The kiss was similar to the ones the two of you shared in the mornings before he left, yet far different at the same time. Gentle, yet passionate. Soft and somewhat greedy.

Just like him.

He parted slightly from you, "I love you."

"I love you too, Jake," you mumbled before once more placing your lips against his.

The remote and show remain forgotten as the two of you cuddle on the couch.

---

You were the first to awaken. Your limbs ached from staying in such a position for so long. As you tried to get up, Jake's arms anchored you in place. With a groan, you wiggled your way out of his arms, already missing his warmth as you entered the kitchen. Haphazardly scooping some rice onto a plate, you warmed the rice in the microwave whilst preparing some leftovers in a few separate bowls.

Lost in your thoughts, you missed the drowsy drag of Jake's feet until he once more wrapped his arms around your waist before placing a soft peck to the crown of your head, "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Right back at you, Mr. Big Boss."

The two of you took a seat at the dining table, sharing a few laughs and stories from your respective jobs.

"What're we going to do first?"

Jake hummed, "We can go shopping, I guess."

"You guess?" The teasing lilt in your voice evoked an eye roll from your boyfriend as he scoffed.

"Do you have anything in mind, shortie?"

"Sho--?! You agreed not to call me that!"

"Well, you agreed not to call me Mr. Big Boss, you hypocrite."

You glared at him, "Touche... Shopping does sound good, though. I heard a new bakery opened up nearby if you want to check that out."

"Sounds good to me." He nodded, gathering all of the plates and bowls on his way back to the kitchen, placing them in the sink with the rest of the dishes before making his way to your shared bedroom.

The two of you made your way through the crowded streets that were filled with couples out on dates and friends just goofing off. In one of your hands, ingredients to make chocolate swished around in a plastic bag, while the other was interlaced loosely with Jake's. 

So far, the day has gone off without a hitch. Though, you suppose it would be difficult to approach the man (teen) at a terrifying height of 6'5"(195 cm) and the woman (also a teen) smiling so freely with said teen man. The bakery the two of you planned to go to had some of the most delicious chocolate you've had in a while, hence why you bought the ingredients to make your own.

You clapped your hands lightly after laying out all the ingredients, your phone propped up a little ways away, displaying the recipe for some simple chocolate. Jake stood next to you, tying the apron behind his back before sparing you a wary glance from the corner of his eye.

"[Name], are you sure about this? We've never made chocolate and this recipe isn't... exactly "simple"."

You only smiled at him, rolling up your sleeves as you briefly scrolled through the recipe, "We'll be fine, Jake. You trust me, don't you?"

He fought the urge to shake his head, forcing himself to let out a hum of agreement.

By the end of about three trials, the kitchen--along with both you and Jake--was splattered with chocolate. Half-eaten and burnt pieces littered the counters and filled the trash bin. 

"I told you it wasn't easy."

"Shush, it looked easy." You puffed your cheeks, grabbing a rag to wipe down the counters, scrunching your nose at the smell of burnt chocolate. Jake chuckled, gently taking the rag from your and leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say. Happy Valentine's Day, [Name]."

"Happy Valentine's, Jake."

Jake Kim was a busy man--too busy, some would say. At only nineteen years old he was able to lead one of the Big Four Crews to find his taken friend. But, he'll always find time for you; even if he has to be kidnapped to do so.

I hope you enjoyed this! this was actually so fun to write, but sorry I couldn’t get it out on Valentine’s oof. My fingers hurt ( ಥ_ಥ) oh the price to pay for satisfaction--

[knuffled]

Just Practice - Chapter 15

this is the most important chapter in the story so far since chapter seven, so i hope you enjoy this! if you could drop a comment and/or reblog to support all the hard work, it would mean a lot to me! 

here’s the ao3 link

The first thing that greeted Annabeth when she stepped out of her car was the sound of crashing waves and the smell of sea salt carried on a gentle breeze. She leaned against the side of her car and drank in the view of the ocean, relishing in the way the wind tousled her hair. The beach was packed with families and college students on spring break, and for good reason. It was late March, and the weather was absolutely perfect outside. The sand was pleasantly warm between her toes, and seagulls cawed overhead in a clear blue sky.

Coming to the beach for spring break had been Rachel’s idea. Her father owned a villa not far from the shore, and she had offered to let them all stay there overnight. It was exactly what Annabeth needed after the past month and a half. After Percy’s victory at state, Annabeth had been absolutely swamped with school work. Nearly every week there was some new project deadline, essay to turn in, or exam to study for, and by the time finals rolled around, Annabeth found herself running on fumes. She hadn’t realized how bad it was until she came home after her final exam and promptly passed the fuck out in her room only to wake up the following afternoon, seventeen hours later.

Annabeth gave herself some time to just stand barefoot in the sand until Piper texted her, informing her that she and Jason were setting up camp further down the beach where it was more secluded. Taking that as her cue to move, Annabeth leisurely made her way down the beach and found Piper and Jason a few minutes later, trying to set up a beach umbrella. The umbrella was an ancient red and white striped monstrosity that looked like it had seen better days. Annabeth watched her friends struggle for a while, amused by how frustrated they were getting when the base of the umbrella slipped in the sand, until Piper noticed her and scowled.

“Are you just gonna stand there and watch or do you plan on helping out?” Piper huffed.

“But you were doing oh so well without me,” Annabeth said innocently. “I wouldn’t want to get in the way or anything.”

Jason put a hand on Piper’s shoulder before she could snap and offered Annabeth a tired smile. “We could really use your help, Annabeth.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Piper muttered something foul under her breath, but Annabeth couldn’t help grinning anyways before she went to help Jason. It took longer than she would have liked, but eventually the three of them managed to get the umbrella to stay in place, just as Hazel, Frank, and Leo arrived.

Leo pointed at the umbrella and said, “That thing looks like it came straight out of the fifties.”

“Shut it, Valdez,” Piper snapped. “We just spent nearly twenty minutes trying to get that fucker to stay still.”

Leo held his palms up in surrender. “Ok, apologies. Looks like someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. I get it. It’s cool.”

“That wasn’t an invitation to keep talking,” Piper warned.

Leo pantomimed zipping his lips, making Annabeth grin. Rolling her eyes, Hazel unzipped her backpack and handed each of them a bottle of homemade lemonade.

“Hopefully, it’s still cold and all the ice didn’t melt,” Hazel said.

Piper took a sip and moaned, “Hazel, you’re a goddamn lifesaver.”

“Don’t make noises like that in public,” Annabeth quipped.

Although she wanted to glare at Annabeth, Piper spotted Rachel and Percy further down the beach and called out to them instead. Annabeth’s heart suddenly began pounding harder in her chest, and she found herself involuntarily searching for him over her shoulder. They had barely talked or even seen each other since State, so she had expected to be more excited to see him, but she found herself strangely nervous instead. The nervousness only grew worse for some reason when Percy noticed her and sent her a warm smile.

“Sorry we’re late,” Percy said. “Rache forgot something so we had to drive back to her place.”

“Let’s not sweat the details,” Rachel said, waving her hand dismissively. “Now, I don’t know about you all, but I am dying to get into the water. Anyone know where the changing rooms are?”

“I saw some on the way here,” Hazel said. “Annabeth, did you want to join us?”

Annabeth cleared her throat and shook her head. “Uh, no, I’m wearing my swimsuit under my clothes already.”

With that, Hazel nodded and left with Rachel for the changing rooms. The boys went down to the water, but Percy stayed behind since he had brought some beach towels with him. He spread them beneath the umbrella so they wouldn��t have to sit on the sand. Piper left a short while later once she was done applying some sunscreen, leaving Annabeth and Percy alone. Annabeth borrowed Piper’s sunscreen as an excuse to leave after Percy did, but he plopped down beside her with a sigh instead.

Annabeth couldn’t help sneaking a quick sidelong glance at him. He looked good, really good. His unzipped black sweatshirt billowed in the breeze and stood in sharp contrast to the white shirt he wore underneath. There was a relaxed, easy smile on his face, and his sun-kissed skin made him look positively radiant.

“Hey, stranger,” Percy said, derailing her thoughts. “Haven’t seen you in a hot minute.”

Annabeth tucked her hair behind her reddening ears and said, “Y-Yeah, not since State, I think.”

“Glad to see you’re still in one piece,” Percy said.

Annabeth breathed a laugh. “Not entirely sure about that.”

Percy cocked his head to the side and studied her. “You do look a little worse for the wear.”

“Rude.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Percy asked, raising an eyebrow. “I distinctly remember warning you not to take three AP courses your senior year, but you wouldn’t listen to me.”

Annabeth scowled and said, “You don’t have to sound so smug about it.”

Percy laughed and leaned back on his elbows. “And what would be the fun in that? It’s not every day that you get to tell Annabeth Chase that you told her so.”

“Someone sure sounds awfully pleased with himself.”

“Oh, believe me, I am,” Percy said, grinning. “But I do suppose I can cut you some slack. You know, considering how we’re at the beach and all.”

“How magnanimous of you,” Annabeth deadpanned.

Percy made a show of clapping mildly. “Oh, well done. That sounded like an SAT word.”

Annabeth barked a laugh despite herself and shoved him, but that only made his grin widen. She was relieved to feel the awkwardness dissipating between them, but her respite was short lived because Percy suddenly removed his shirt and tossed it on the towel beside her.

“W-What are you doing? Why are you taking off your clothes?” Annabeth stammered, unable to hide the panic in her voice.

Percy looked at her like she had sprouted a second head. “It’s kind of hard to go swimming when you still have your clothes on.”

Annabeth looked away to hide the fact that her face was turning pink. “I know that! But can’t you go change in the changing rooms?”

Percy blinked in surprise and said, “Oh, sorry. You’ve seen me do this like a hundred times, so I didn’t think that you’d mind.”

He was right. She had seen him shirtless more times than she could count, so why was she suddenly being so weird about it? She needed to get a fucking grip. And yet, it was everything she could do not to stare shamelessly at him. Christ, at this proximity, the scent of his cologne was inescapable, and it only served to make her feel even more flustered.

“Annabeth, are you okay? You’ve been acting really strange,” Percy said.

“I-I’m fine,” Annabeth squeaked. “Just tired.”

“Alright, try not to push yourself,” Percy said, standing up. “I’m gonna head down to the water now. Let me know if you need anything.”

Annabeth nodded, still refusing to look at him. It was only after he was gone that she stopped holding her breath. She screwed her eyes shut and buried her face in her hands. What the fuck was she doing? Why was she acting so weird? All her feelings seemed to contradict one another. She felt a bizarre mix of exhilaration and anxiety, like thousands of butterflies fluttering about in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes were drawn to Percy even though she couldn’t bear to look at him. There was definitely something wrong with her.

Annabeth took a deep breath and forced herself to stand up and head down to the water. For now, she resolved herself to just make the most of her time at the beach instead of wallowing in her own awkwardness. Nevertheless, she did make a point of avoiding where Percy was to give herself a breather. However, in her momentary lapse of concentration, Piper snuck up on her and tackled her into the sea, sending salt water rushing up her nose.

She surfaced sputtering and discombobulated only to find Piper laughing uproariously behind her. Annabeth chased after her in a murderous rage, but Piper quickly retreated to the sea and put some distance between them. Piper had always been the better swimmer, so it took a few minutes before Annabeth finally caught her, but once she did, Annabeth dunked her underwater for a full minute as payback.

Eventually, Rachel and Hazel returned from the changing rooms and joined them in the water as well. They all splashed around together for a few hours under the midday sun, and Annabeth forgot all about how awkward she felt around Percy.

They broke for lunch after that and settled on a shack that sold burgers further up the beach. Unfortunately, the only vegetarian option on the menu was fries, so Piper had to drive herself to a nearby Taco Bell. Annabeth couldn’t help feeling sorry for her when Piper returned twenty minutes later, absolutely livid, because the rest of them had already finished eating.

“I can’t fucking believe there are still restaurants in this day and age that don’t have vegetarian options,” Piper fumed.

“Remind me to buy some stuff for dinner tonight so you don’t have to do this again,” Rachel said, yawning.

“How far away is your villa again?” Frank asked.

“Just a fifteen minute drive or so,” Rachel said, finishing her salad. “We’ve got a firepit out back, so we can have a bonfire tonight! We can make smores and everything.”

“Dibs on lighting the bonfire,” Leo said quickly.

“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” Piper said vehemently.

“C’mon, I promise I’ll keep it under control this time, Pipes,” Leo pleaded.

“The last time you were in charge of the bonfire, you nearly burned my fucking house down,” Piper snapped.

“That was like three years ago!”

“It was at my birthday last June.”

“I’ll handle the fire, Leo,” Jason interrupted. “You can help me out if you’d like.”

Leo sank in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “You guys are no fun.”

“A bonfire sounds nice,” Frank said, ignoring him.

“Yeah, it’ll be chill,” Rachel said, nodding. “We’ll have a section of the beach all to ourselves. I think my dad probably has some alcohol stashed away somewhere in the house.”

“Percy, watch over us and make sure we don’t do anything stupid,” Piper said, throwing an arm around his shoulder.

Percy gave her a wary look. “I don’t recall volunteering to be a babysitter.”

“But you’re the only one here that doesn’t drink,” Piper protested. “Pretty please?”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “Buttering me up isn’t going to work, you know.”

“Annabeth, help me convince your boyfriend,” Piper whined.

Annabeth paused mid-drink and looked between them. “Don’t look at me. I’m not the one that’ll get black-out drunk and try to like hunt for mermaids or something.”

That got a laugh out of everyone, much to Piper’s chagrin.

After they finished eating, they returned to their spot under the umbrella. Hazel and Frank went back to laze around in the water while Rachel and Leo decided to go build sandcastles on the beach. The rest of them sat under the umbrella and talked amongst themselves for a while, but eventually Jason left for the bathroom. Percy joined him because he said he had spotted a shop selling snow cones on the way here, leaving Annabeth alone with Piper.

Once they were out of earshot, Piper turned to Annabeth with a wolfish grin. “Lovin’ the swimsuit, babe.”

“This is hardly anything special,” Annabeth said, rolling her eyes. She was just wearing a plain black two piece she’d found at Target the summer before.

Piper raised an eyebrow and said, “Percy certainly seemed to think it was. Boy couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

Annabeth blinked in surprise. Piper had to be trolling her. Sure, she had felt his eyes on her a few times, but that didn’t mean anything.

“You’re obviously fucking with me.”

“I’m being serious,” Piper laughed. “You look hot, Annababe.”

Annabeth looked down at her swimsuit and felt her face heat up. She didn’t really think she was much to look at honestly. It wasn’t like she had low self-esteem or anything, but her body had always been more of an instrument to her than a source of beauty. If you asked her, the only things she really had going for her were her height and the slender, toned physique that she had built over years of running long distance. Beyond that, Annabeth thought she was rather plain.

“Thanks,” Annabeth mumbled.

“You’re welcome,” Piper said, stifling a yawn. “I wonder what’s taking him so long.”

Annabeth shielded her eyes from the sun and scanned the beach for Percy, but she didn’t see him anywhere. Instead of sitting around and getting stuck in her thoughts, Annabeth decided to take her mind off things and search for him instead.

She stood up and brushed the sand off her thighs and said, “I’m gonna go look for him.”

“Ok, stay safe,” Piper said. “I think I’m going to take a nap.”

Annabeth nodded and made her way back in the direction of the parking lot. Percy had said that the snow cone shop was on the other end, but he still should have gotten back by now. Maybe he was having trouble carrying all those snow cones by himself or perhaps the line was really long. She made it all the way to the shop without running into Percy, and she couldn’t see him standing in line either.

She scanned the surrounding area for him without much luck and almost gave up on her search when she spotted the familiar outline of his back. He was cradling a carton of snow cones in his arms and talking to two college aged girls. Annabeth took a step forward, trepidation filling her chest. She couldn’t make out the look on his face because his back was turned towards her, but she thought she caught a glimpse of a polite, confused smile on his face, like he wasn’t entirely sure why the girls were talking to him.

Annabeth balled her hands in fists at her sides and clenched her jaw. It was obvious by the way the girls laughed sycophantically and twirled their hair, practically thrusting their tits in his face, that they were hitting on him. What did the idiot think would happen if he was gonna waltz around the beach shirtless like that?

She had half a mind to go over and interrupt them, but for some reason she found herself rooted in place. Annabeth wasn’t sure why she disliked them so much, but the more she thought about it, the less reason she realized she had to interfere. Percy wasn’t actually her boyfriend after all. Besides, he was free to leave at any time, but he hadn’t which probably meant he wanted to be there. In any case, it was none of her business to step in.

And yet, she couldn’t force herself to simply turn on her heels and leave either.

But then one of the girls, a haughty looking redhead, started tugging on his forearm insistently. Percy made a small show of resistance, enough to show he wasn’t interested, but apparently they didn’t seem to pick up on that because the other girl decided to help her friend by tugging Percy’s other arm.

Annabeth moved without realizing what she was doing and pulled Percy against her chest. A possessive thrill rushed through her when the look of discomfort on his face gave way to relief once he saw her.

She positioned herself in front of Percy and glared at the girls. “What’s going on here?”

The redhead’s eyes flashed with irritation, but she forced herself to muster a saccharine smile. “Oh, we were just inviting him to come have some drinks with us.”

“Can’t you see he’s clearly uncomfortable?” Annabeth asked. “I’m guessing he even told you he doesn’t drink too.”

The girls exchanged looks with each other. “I mean, he was obviously joking about that.”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe you just don’t know how to take no for an answer.”

The girls recoiled like they had been slapped across the face. Annabeth took the opportunity to whisper to Percy that they were leaving and led him away by the hand before the girls could react. The girls protested behind them, but the only thing Annabeth could focus on was the feeling of Percy’s hand in hers. Blood pounded in Annabeth’s ears, and something simmered in her veins like magma. It took her a while to realize that Percy was calling out for her to stop.

“Annabeth, slow down,” Percy said. “You’re hurting me.”

Annabeth dropped his wrist like she’d been burned and looked away. “Sorry.”

Percy set the snow cones down and rubbed his wrist. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sur-”

“I said I’m fine,” Annabeth snapped.

Her tone was harsh enough to prove she was lying, but she couldn’t help it. Something dark smoldered in the pit of her stomach, making her restless. She didn’t know what it was, but the sensation was intolerable and she wanted it to stop.

Percy put a hand on her shoulder and forced her to face him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Annabeth balled her hands into fists and stared at her feet. “I-I don’t know. I’m just- I don’t know, I feel really weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just hated it, seeing the way they were clinging on to you,” Annabeth said tightly. “Why didn’t you just leave? It was like you wanted them to fawn all over you.”

“I tried but they wouldn’t let me leave.”

Annabeth met his eyes for the first time. “If you really wanted to leave, they wouldn’t have been able to stop you.”

Percy blinked in surprise and furrowed his brow. “Are you- are you jealous?”

Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest, and her face began to prickle. “I-I don’t know. I just didn’t like it.”

Percy’s lips tugged upwards involuntarily in a smile, making Annabeth even angrier. “What’s so funny?”

Percy hid his smile behind his hand. “Oh, um, nothing. Sorry. I just wanted to say that you didn’t have anything to worry about. They were making me super uncomfortable.”

Annabeth pursed her lips and said, “I find that kind of hard to believe.”

“Annabeth, come on, you could tell that they were creeping the fuck out of me from a mile away,” Percy said exasperatedly.

That was enough to coax a smile out of her. “You mean you didn’t like getting eye fucked by total strangers?”

Percy gave her an incredulous look and said, “You know, having tried it, I can’t really say it’s for me.”

“Yeah?” Annabeth asked, grinning.

“Yes,” Percy said flatly. “Besides, I already have a lovely fake-girlfriend willing to save me when I’m a damsel in distress.”

Annabeth’s heart skipped a beat. “Sounds like a real catch.”

“Oh, she most definitely is.”

Annabeth knew that Percy had meant it as a joke, but it made her heart squeeze a little in her chest all the same. She turned away before her face turned red and fought the ridiculous urge to smile. Christ, she needed to get ahold of herself.

“You good?” Percy asked carefully.

Annabeth nodded. “Yeah.”

“We should get going then,” Percy said. “The snow cones are starting to melt.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Annabeth said, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t be rude to the guy that bought you a strawberry-rhubarb snow cone.”

“A thousand apologies, your majesty.”

Percy hummed happily to himself. “That’s more like it.”

:::

After sunset, they finally left the beach and made for Rachel’s villa. The villa was massive, easily twice the size of Annabeth’s house, and designed in a Spanish style. Annabeth took a moment to admire the terracotta tiled roof, and the large windows that allowed for a generous view of the Pacific. The villa had six separate bedrooms, which she personally found a bit excessive, but it proved to be for the best since there were eight of them. After Rachel took a room for herself, the rest of them drew straws to determine who would have a room to themselves, and Annabeth somehow managed to win.

Annabeth’s first course of action after dropping off her luggage was to shower. She didn’t like having to shower after spending so much time in the ocean since it made her skin all dry and wrinkly, but it was still a relief to finally wash off all the sand that had stuck to her all day. Unfortunately, Annabeth had been forced to pack in a hurry, so she could only change into what she worn earlier that morning. She had only brought a single change of clothes with her and that was for tomorrow.

She took some time to admire her room while she towel-dried her hair. It wasn’t particularly large, but it was tastefully decorated. A large queen bed sat in the center of the room, flanked by a small cherry wood drawer. Sheer linen curtains framed a tall window that looked out over the ocean. Annabeth leaned against the open window sill and drank in the view of the Pacific. The full moon hung directly overhead and cast its pale, diffused reflection onto the dark water below.

Just as she finished drying her hair, there was a knock at her door. Percy peered into her room, fiddling with the zipper on his sweatshirt.

“Hey, ready to go? I think Jason and Leo are getting the fire started.”

Annabeth set her towel aside and nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The bonfire was nearly fully lit by the time they arrived. Jason sat atop one of the four logs circling the pit and kept a watchful eye on the flames. Off to the side, Frank was helping Leo dump some charcoal into the mouth of an expensive looking barbeque grill. Rachel and Hazel chatted to themselves and cut meat and vegetables at the outdoor kitchen countertop. Piper was the only one that appeared to be missing.

Percy noticed that Frank and Leo were having trouble and went over to help them with the grill, leaving Annabeth alone. She didn’t want to be the only one twiddling her thumbs so she figured she would go and help Rachel and Hazel.

“Need any help?” Annabeth asked them.

Hazel shook her head. “No thanks. We are pretty much done here, but we appreciate the offer.”

“Besides, not sure how much I trust you in the kitchen with a knife,” Rachel teased.

“I’m not completely hopeless. I made Percy chicken soup when he got sick, and he said it was pretty good,” Annabeth protested.

Rachel laughed and said, “You could literally make Percy drink poison, and he’d tell you it was delicious if you were the one that made it.”

Blood rushed to Annabeth’s face, making Rachel laugh even harder. She patted Annabeth’s shoulder benevolently and said, “Trust me. It’s for your own good, Chase.”

Annabeth shrugged her off and sat on one of the logs with a scowl. “Where’s Piper?”

“Rachel forgot to get her ingredients, so she had to go buy herself dinner again, the poor girl,” Hazel said.

Rachel looked repentant enough for Annabeth to feel sorry for her, so Annabeth tried to comfort her by saying, “She’s probably more than happy to have Taco Bell twice in one day.”

Annabeth started when someone swatted the back of her head. She turned and looked up with a frown to see Piper standing behind her, holding a burrito.

“Heard that, asshole.”

“You’re literally eating a burrito right now,” Annabeth muttered.

Piper’s face turned pink. “It’s from Chipotle! You can tell by the size!”

“Wow, someone’s getting adventurous,” Annabeth deadpanned.

Piper sat down at the log across from her, beside Jason, and narrowed her eyes. “Bite me.”

Annabeth was interrupted by Leo before she could respond. He skipped over to them with a manic grin and said, “We finally got the grill working!”

“You’re not gonna accidentally blow us up or anything right?” Piper asked dubiously.

“Pipes, charcoal can’t explode,” Leo said flatly. “I know you’re a vegetarian and all, but that’s literally second grade science class.”

“You can never be too sure when it comes to you,” Piper sniffed.

Leo rolled his eyes and waltzed over to Hazel and Rachel. “Looks like you’re almost done! I’ll start taking things over to the grill to get started.”

“Frank, make sure you keep an eye on him!” Hazel shouted when Leo took a plateful of meat and vegetables with him.

Rachel declared to the group that she would go find where her father had stashed his alcohol and returned a short while later with an assortment of liquor and a tray full of glasses. They all poured themselves drinks, apart from Percy, and sat around the fire.

Annabeth had helped herself to some fancy looking bourbon, mainly because she had never tried it before. Her first sip made her throat burn and forced her to cough. Percy gave her a worried look, but she ignored him and took another sip. Once she got over how strong it was, she had to admit that the bourbon was really good. It didn’t take long for that familiar warmth to spread through her body and soften the harsh edges of the world around her.

It took some time for the food to arrive, but it was well worth the wait. Frank had found an array of spices in the kitchen pantry to season the meat with, so even the smell was incredible. After an exhausting day at the beach, they all practically inhaled their food. Piper finished her food first since she had a head start and set up a smores station for dessert. It wasn’t long before they were fighting for spots to roast their marshmallows on the fire.

Later, Rachel disappeared inside the villa and returned with an acoustic guitar. She strummed a few chords and started singing softly, the sound of waves and the crackling fire providing an ambient backdrop. At first, she sang on her own and they were content to listen, but as they got more drunk and uninhibited, they would join in whenever she played a tune they recognized. Barring Frank and Piper, the rest of them were practically tone-deaf, so it sounded so bad that it would send them all into fits of laughter.

It was at times like this that Annabeth was struck by just how lucky she was to have such good friends. She didn’t have many good things in her life, but this was one of them and it wouldn’t last forever. There was no telling where they would all be in a years time or if they would ever be this close again, but that didn’t make her feel sad. Instead, an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude surged through her veins, compelling her to drink in every moment and seat it into her memory so that she would never forget.

But through it all, Annabeth found her eyes drawn to the boy sitting beside her the most. She unconsciously pulled herself closer to Percy over the course of the night and luxuriated in the way their elbows knocked together, a reminder that he was there. Annabeth would catch herself staring at him and the way the flames lit up his laughing face, making him all look every bit as invincible as she felt. At some point, she caught his hand and tangled his fingers between her own, and when he squeezed her hand, she smiled so hard it hurt.

As the night wore on, more of them left, unable to stay awake any longer, until eventually Percy and Annabeth were the only one remaining. The quietness was welcome change after all the noise they had been making, but it was hard not to fall asleep the sound of the rolling waves. Annabeth struggled to keep her drooping eyes open, but Percy looked perfectly fine, probably because he was the only one who hadn’t drank.

“You should go get some sleep,” Percy murmured. “Look like you’re gonna pass out.”

Annabeth hummed and rested her head on his shoulder. “Don’t want to.”

“If you’re expecting me to carry you, you’re going to be sorely mistaken,” Percy said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re too heavy.”

If she had the energy, Annabeth would have scowled. “Rude.”

Percy grinned and looked out over the ocean with a pensive, almost melancholy look. Annabeth poked his cheek with her finger to get him to look at her.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Percy said. “About everything, I guess.”

“Hmm, deep.”

Percy laughed and said, “Alright, smarty pants, I was thinking about the future and my friends and you.”

“Then why do you look so sad?” Annabeth asked, sitting up straighter.

Percy blinked in surprise and said, “I look sad?”

Annabeth nodded and pressed a finger to his brow. “You’re giving yourself wrinkles, like you always do when you’re upset.”

There was a pause before Percy said, “Remember earlier when you saved me from those college girls?”

“What about it?”

Percy stared up at the sky and smiled bitterly. “I never imagined you would ever get jealous over me.”

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but Annabeth found herself saying, “Neither did I.”

Percy turned to her with wide eyes, making her frown. “What?”

“I, uh, wasn’t expecting you to answer seriously.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes and nudged him affectionately. “I’m taking this seriously because you are.”

Percy smiled softly and said, “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, you dork,” Annabeth said fondly. “Honestly, since when did you become the serious, responsible out of the two of us. What ever happened to the kid that caught frogs during recess and put worms in Nancy Bobofit’s locker?”

Percy laughed and said, “Well, one of us had to grow up, so I figured it might as well be me.”

Annabeth half-heartedly jabbed him with her elbow. “Jerk.”

“You’ve grown up a lot too,” Percy said. “You just don’t realize it.”

“Yeah, how so?” Annabeth asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ve learned to temper yourself. When you were younger, it was like fire ran through your veins. You acted like the world and everything were promised to you, not out of some sense of arrogance, but like it was your birthright. I remember how you used to argue with the teachers and stuff in front of the whole class because it never occurred to you that there were people you shouldn’t pick fights with. I was always kind of in of awe of how stupidly brave you were. I still am,” Percy said, softly.

A lump formed in Annabeth’s throat. Percy was right, about everything, but that wasn’t what was getting to her. It was the fact that his words were a testament to the fact that he had been there with her since the beginning. He had seen her as a bossy, bratty little seven year old and had stuck by her side all the way till now.

“We have been through a lot together, haven’t we?” Annabeth asked thickly.

The tender look in Percy’s eyes made her heart squeeze a little in her chest. “Yeah, we have.”

Annabeth screwed her eyes shut, unable to look at him. She didn’t want this to end, but the moment was beginning to get too much for her, so she stood up suddenly.

“Alright, enough with all the sappiness,” Annabeth said. “Race you to the beach?”

Without waiting for him to respond, Annabeth took off for the water’s edge, running as hard as she could. Percy started a moment later, humoring her like always, and quickly made up the distance. If it wasn’t for the sand and the fact that she was super drunk, Annabeth would have won, but it wasn’t long before Percy caught up to her and slung her over his shoulder. Annabeth shrieked and pounded on his back.

“You better not dump me in the water, you asshole!” Annabeth yelled.

Percy ignored her and sped towards the water, making her fear for the worst. She braced herself for impact, but it never came. Instead, he set her down onto dry sand and grinned down at her. Annabeth scowled and stood up, dusting the sand off her shorts, watching as he rolled up his shorts and waded further into the water. The encroaching tide was cold enough to make her jump when it tickled her toes, but Percy seemed perfectly fine going knee deep into it.

The moonlight streamed down on him, illuminating half his face with its pale glow. Wind rustled his hair and billowed through his clothes as he stared out at the horizon. Under the moonlight, he seemed to age backwards and actually look his eighteen years - the hard lines of worry on his brow smoothened, and the tightness and frustration in his jaws released. There was something about his pale figure standing in the inky sea that made him look so beautiful and true that it made it hard for her to breathe. It reminded her of how Piper had said she had fallen for Jason, how he had seemed to glow, and she couldn’t help feeling like she understood exactly what Piper had meant.

Percy noticed her looking and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Annabeth balled her hands into fists at her side. She wasn’t ready to say it. Not yet. “N-Nothing.”

Percy didn’t look convinced, but he shrugged all the same. Annabeth stared down at her feet so that she wouldn’t be forced to look at him, but her heart pounded in her chest urgently. She started when Percy draped his sweatshirt over her shoulders and stepped past her. It was warm, and it smelled like him.

“I’m gonna head inside,” Percy said softly. “Don’t stay out for too long, okay?”

Annabeth nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Percy lingered there for a moment longer before leaving. Annabeth waited till she heard him enter the villa before she collapsed down on the sand and hugged her knees to her chest. An explanation for her actions and feelings today were finally starting to dawn on her, which sent equal parts terror and exhilaration coursing through her as she stared up at the moon. Her inability to look at him conflicting with her desire never to leave him, the nervousness and exhilaration, the jealousy - all of it pointed to one thing. She was just having a hard time accepting it.

Whenever Annabeth had imagined falling in love, she had expected it to strike her like a bolt of lightning, illuminating her with a sudden, arresting, all-consuming knowledge.

She hadn’t ever imagined that it would be like this: soft and gentle, like an unfolding discovery, the way the petals unfurled when a flower bloomed. And yet, just as sure, just as certain.

Annabeth buried her face in her hands. Try as she might, she couldn’t deny it any longer.

Fuck.

She was in love with him, wasn’t she? She was in love with Percy Jackson.

[writer-k-pop]

Letter to You

난 그 감정들을 지키고 싶었어. I wanted to protect those emotions.

Description: You find a letter Wonwoo wrote to you about the day you two first met. Warnings: None Genre: FLUFF, BF!Wonwoo x Reader Word Count: 1.4k

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

Dear y/n,

Today wasn't a good day. I've seen a fair share of bad days but this has to be the worst I've seen so far. I don't know what was wrong and until you're ready, I know not to ask. I didn't know what to do. I got home and you were crumpled up on the couch with tears cascading down your cheeks. All I could think was to hug you and tell you everything was okay. Even now, I'm praying that it was enough.

You're sleeping now. After sitting, wrapped up in my arms for a few hours, you just passed right out on the couch. So I carried you to bed, something I haven't done since the early days of our relationship. (Which reminds me, please let me carry you more often.)

Though I don't know if you'll ever read this. I'll probably put it in a drawer or box or something and then forget about it cause that's what I seem to do best. But maybe one day we'll be cleaning out our home and it'll fall out of somewhere random.

Even if you don't read this, I'm writing it because you had asked me why I wanted to stay with you when you were such a mess. I wanted to remind you of why I stay with you. It's a story. The story of the day I first met you. You always tell everyone I tell it better so I'll tell it to you to see if that statement's still true.

Let's see. It was during my time at the University. I had a favorite cafe that I would go to consistently, like almost weekly. You also frequented that cafe but I had only known you as the chick who always took the good corner table with the outlet. Though that's a detail I would never say to anyone else. Anyway, it was nearing the end of a semester and I was in total panic mode cause, you know, finals. I got to the cafe, ordered my usual and found the next best seat to the one you had already taken. The seat I found that day conveniently had a nice view of you reading possibly the largest book I have ever seen.

... You know, now that I'm writing this out, that sentence sounds creepier than I intended...

Moving on.

The barista had called out my drink order so I got up and made my way towards the counter. I got distracted by a text as I got closer and when I blindly reached for the cup, I grabbed it along with another hand wrapped around the cup. Turns out, you had ordered the same thing as me and you had ordered first. We exchanged some words that I don't remember. So then, not only did I embarrass myself in front of you, I had to do the walk of shame back to my table while the whole cafe watched. That should've been clue #1 that the day would be filled with you but of course, I missed it.

A few minutes later, the barista did called out my actual drink and up I went again to the counter. Though this time I wasn't distracted by anything so I clearly saw the post it note stuck to the lid. I still to this day have no idea how you got that post it stuck there without me noticing. And yes it's possible you did it while I was sitting distracted at my table but some of the details still don't add up. And you still won't tell me. You just giggle every time I ask and say "it's a secret." One day, one day I'll get it out of you.

The post it had your number and name written on it. When I got back to my table, I glanced at your table and I could tell you were trying so hard not to look at me, which only made me chuckle cause damn, it was cute. I quickly added your number into my phone and then, like an idiot, didn't text you right away. I don't know why I didn't. Maybe it was my notes staring me down or the looming embarrassment from our first encounter but whatever it was, I still regret not texting you right then and there.

Eventually I somehow gained the courage to actually text you. I think I sent something lame like "Hey." I hit send and then a tsunami of worries suddenly hit. So in a nervous trance, I glanced up at you just as you pulled out your phone. I watched you smile at my little text but before you could text me back, somebody walked up to your table and you became distracted.

Slightly disappointed, I went back to my studies but my mind was pretty occupied with you. I tried, please trust me when I say I tried to get through my studies but I chose the wrong day to procrastinate my studies. I gave up like halfway through I think and decided to give myself a break.

I just happened to glance over at your table where you and your acquaintance were still in deep conversation. Your eyebrows were scrunched together and your mouth was hanging open in shock. Then in the span of, I swear, only a few minutes, you went through so many emotions that I lost count. If I can remember correctly, you went from shocked to annoyance to sadness to determination to joy. I'm sure there were more but I can't remember them anymore.

But anyway, as I watched you go through all those emotions, I made a decision right then and there. I wanted to protect you and make sure that sadness never took over your features completely. That is if you let me. (Which thankfully you did.)

I guess I had been staring a little too much cause you looked over at me just after I mentally made that declaration and gave me the sweetest smile and giggled. I nearly had a heart attack in that cafe seat. That smile, that was the one I wanted to keep on your face forever.

Obviously, life has other plans and doesn't always follow what we want it to do but my declaration to myself still stands. Though sadness does cross your features every so often, I try to do everything to whisk it away and bring back that smile that I love. And even though you feel you don't deserve me and you wonder why I'm still with you, I hope you know that I will continue to protect you because I love you every day of every year.

I hope I can show you that you never have to question that ever again. Then again, you will probably never read this so you won't actually know about any of this. But hey, I'm your hopeless romantic so I'll hide things like this until a really sappy moment.

Well, it's getting late and you're starting to toss and turn in bed. Your arms, I think, are searching for me so I should probably go and join you before you wake up and find me writing this.

I love you, (y/n). Every single part of you, every single day.

Love from your hopeless romantic,

Wonwoo

My hand floats over the written words, nearly trembling. The last thing I expected to find shoved in the back of the closet was this. I was packing up clothes for mine and Wonwoo's move to a new house and out slipped this letter enclosed in an envelope.

"How's it going in here?" Wonwoo asks walking into the closet.

"When did you write this?" I ask, turning and showing him the letter.

He stares blankly at the paper in my hand and I can see his gears working as he tries to remember what exactly I'm holding.

A few seconds later, his face lights up and he snaps his fingers. "That! I wrote that like two years ago. I totally forgot, wow, that's where I decided to put it?" He wonders incredulously.

As he runs his left hand through his hair, the light catches the ring on his ring finger. Nearly 6 months married and moving house and he's still showing me new sides of himself.

"You know, you did mention you would forget where you would place it." I smile, walking up to him.

Wonwoo opens his arms and wraps me up, "Anything else I said that still is true?"

"That you love me." I mumble into his chest.

His chuckle rings through his chest, "That most definitely is still true."

[whumphoarder]

hi! sorry if you already have a rec list for this, but do you have any outsider pov fics? like i read this one series with peters physics teacher which was super cool so if u know of any others kinda like that or of civilians that spidey has helped? i also super enjoyed ur school nurse one lol

Five Time Faculty Members Had to Call Peter's Emergency Contact + 1 Time He Shows Up Anyway by kingdomfaraway

“Peter,” Jim started, “if you’re more comfortable with your Aunt, we can reschedule for another time.”

“Nonsense,” Tony said, speaking before Peter could. “She’s a very busy woman, I, on the other hand, have all the time in the world.”

Jim kept eye contact with Peter, who just nodded. “It’s fine, I’m sure he would show up anyway…”

Tony gave a very smug grin to both Peter and then to Jim.

Everyday Superhero by stoneage_woman

When a field trip to Stark Industries ends in disaster, Roger Harrington finds himself faced with an impossible choice. Suddenly, Tony Stark is shoving an NDA in his face while Peter Parker stares at him with terrified, desperate eyes. Nothing in his 13-year teaching career could have prepared Harrington for this, but he knows one thing for sure: ten years ago, he'd stared down into the sightless eyes of a seventeen-year-old girl, and he'd sworn to himself that he would never again lose another student. He's going to do everything in his power to keep that promise now…even if it costs him everything.

Set during and post Spider-Man Homecoming. A realistic field trip story that also explores the long-term consequences of trauma and responsibility, written by a real-life teacher.

Big Secrets, And Other Things To Talk To Your Therapist About by Aimael

How Dr Lauren McKinley, psychologist, randomly acquired not one, but two new clients of the superhero kind, because she was a little too curious to say no.

Mutants by sameuspegasus

All teachers dread parent-teacher night. This one's worse than usual.

Feat. Boundaries? I don't know this word. He's not my boyfriend! Flash Thompson's A+ parents Tony and Peter are enormous nerds Gym class is important Oh my God, what's that in the bio lab

IM Spotter by Gyptian

Floriana has headed up the IM Spotter club, New York branch for years, in a certain cafe with a very good view of Stark Tower. Never has she dreamed of having such a special guest, however.

Open for Business by @opal-earrings

Jake likes his night shift at the gas station in the middle of nowhere because nothing ever happens. The only reason he took the job is because nothing ever happens.

But then something actually does. A teenager comes in covered in blood and asking to use his phone, and somehow that’s not the strangest thing that's going to happen during his shift tonight.

research and disaster by blueh

The interns at Stark Industries have some questions about Peter Parker. The answers aren’t quite what they expect.

A Good Kid by kuragay

Ricky thinks that May's an exceptional woman, and he thinks that Peter's an exceptional kid. But there's no denying that the Parker household is full of mysteries, and most of them are centered around Peter and his supposed internship with Tony Stark.

“Is that a cat?” (no, it’s a kitten.) by zimnokurw

Mel, intern of Stark Industries founds a kitten, but if she wants to help her, she have to take Molly (yeah, so she named her already, problem?) to the company. But that's only four hours so nobody will even notice anything! Well, a kid noticed. And FRIDAY, and then Mr. Hogan and Dr. Stark. And suddenly she's screwed. Or is she?

When In Doubt, Blame Spider-Man by @ambivalentmarvel

Peter finds a ten-year-old friend out in the cold near his group home and decides to take action.

Peter Parker: Intern Cryptid by Karu_Ambrogio

The 5 college level interns, who actually interacted with Tony Stark himself on occasion, would be jealous of the 16 year old Peter Parker appearing from nowhere and being the obvious favorite if they weren't so busy being terrified by him.

Progress Report by sameuspegasus

Ms. Warren has some questions for Tony Stark regarding the exact nature of Peter's internship. She gets invited to the lab to see for herself.

Love, hate on by @madasthesea

She’d planned for this moment for two years, seven months, and eighteen days: As she’d stood above her daughter’s freshly dug grave, she’d decided that Tony Stark would die by her hand. And now was her moment.

She had only intended to grab Stark, tell him what he’d done that merited the punishment she was going to give, and kill him fast before anyone started looking. But here was this kid, an act of providence.

She didn’t have to tell Stark now, she could show him. She could make him suffer like she’d suffered, make him pay for his crimes. An eye for an eye, a child for a child.

Should’ve Stuck with Bed, Bath & Beyond by @whumphoarder

Having recently quit a high-stress job at the local ER, Patrick Carmichael—the rookie nurse at Midtown School of Science and Technology—is ready to settle into a nice quiet life of handing out band-aids and ice packs and collecting students’ mandatory sports physical forms.

Unfortunately, he's about to meet Peter Parker.

[sidespart]

Sibling Culture

Summary: Younger siblings Patton, Virgil and Roman share some stories about their older siblings Deceit, Logan and Remus. Patton and Virgil’s stories are cute. Roman’s are not.

Warnings: Abuse, Unsympathetic Remus, Non graphic descriptions of abuse, Not great understanding of mental health issues (child POV), authority figures not being very useful, child being exposed to sexual situations (very much not graphic). Ask if you want me to add more. 

Relationships: Gen, but a bit of pre-relationship moxiety snuck in because I love them

“Hey, how’d you get that scar?”

Despite the warm day, Roman felt cold grip his insides, twisting upwards towards his throat and freezing any denial he could think of until he was startled by a laugh from Patton.

“Oh! It was Dee’s fault.”

Wincing, Roman twisted himself so he could see the other two properly. Patton was still sprawled out on the grass next to him, but Virgil had sat up. He was hunched over, peering at Patton’s leg. When he saw Roman carefully sit up to join him he pointed at a faded sliver of a scar, just above Patton’s left knee.

“What did he DO?” Virgil face had shifted into a scowl at the mention his ‘arch enemy’ but that faded quickly as Patton started giggling.

“It was when I was …four? I think? He convinced me the Easter Bunny didn’t come to our house because the Easter Fox lived in our yard. I had to go out and patrol the yard, make sure it was safe, or I wouldn’t get any candy that year.”

-It said something about years of friendship with both Patton and Devin Sanders that neither Roman or Virgil thought to question that logic-

“Anyway he let me stomp around there for ever and then he jumped out in this fox mask to scare me!”

“This kind’ve thing is why he’s a dick” Virgil muttered. His hand, Roman noticed, was still on Patton’s leg, thumb swiping idly over the scar.

“He was nine, Vee” Patton said reprovingly, although he didn’t actually deny the comment, “anyway, he didn’t know I’d snuck a knife from the dishwasher-

“You WHAT?-”

“A KNIFE?-”

“-there was candy AND a bunnys life a stake, guys I was taking it seriously!” Patton’s eyes were sparkling with laughter at the twin looks of horror on his friends faces. “Anyway, he startled me so bad that of course I dropped it right away – sliced my knee up as it fell.”

“oh my God” Virgil groaned finally relinquishing Patton’s leg so he could bury his face in his hands. “That could have been so bad Pat.”

“what did Devin do?” Roman asked quietly.

“oh, he freaked – Virgil will you come out of there I’m fine – yelled so loud both our parents came running. Then, once I was all bandaged up, he tried to convince them I fell off a skateboard.”

That was enough to make Virgil peak through his fingers, a frown on his face “Did you ever even own a skateboard?”

Patton shifted himself so he was sitting up as well, an extremely solemn look on his face.

“We did not.”

There was a brief, pregnant pause before all three of them cracked up, their laughter echoing across Vigil’s yard.

“Older brothers are the worst.” Virgil pronounced. Despite the heat of the day he was still wearing his thick hoodie over a t-shirt and jeans, but now he started pushing up his right sleeve “Did I ever tell you about the time Logan threw me out of the tree house?”

“He what??!” Roman yelped.

“He would NEVER!” Patton gasped.

“He did” Virgil held his right arm up, revealing a long puckered line that ran from his mid forearm across his elbow. “It was before either of you moved here, I had a cast and everything”

All three of them took a moment to admire Virgil’s scar, much more raised and defined than Patton’s, before Roman asked the question they were no doubt all thinking:

“What colour was your cast?”

“Purple.”

“Nice.”

“Did Logan really push you Virgil?” Roman had to do his absolute best not to laugh at the pout that appeared on Virgil’s face when he took in Patton’s heartbroken expression.

Logan McAlister, was four years older than the three friends and Patton had fixated on him the moment they’d met. Roman has spent years watching Patton go from hero worship to puppy love to full blown crush all while Virgil stomped along next to him like a gloomy, jealous, storm cloud.

Not that Virgil would ever admit that it was jealousy making him snap and snarl at his brother whenever his friends came around…but their relationship certainly seemed to become more civil once Patton had gotten over his crush.

Roman couldn’t really blame Patton either. Virgil had never said anything and Logan…Logan was cool.

“He built a plane.” Virgil muttered eventually, shoving his sleeve back into place. “or a glider or…something. A box with a sheet stuck too it anyway. We both sat in it and he pushed us out of there.” He pointed towards the somewhat dilapidated tree house nestled in the tallest tree in the yard.

Roman let out a low whistle. Now that the three of them were quickly approaching seventeen they had physically, if not mentally, started to outgrow the tree house. Which meant it was no longer useful for much beyond lying down almost on top of each other during study sessions or lazy afternoon naps. When Roman had first met Virgil at age ten however it had seemed enormous. And very high up. It would have seemed even higher whenever the Ill-fated glider attempt had happened.

‘Were you scared?” he asked, watching Virgil carefully, but the other boy just shrugged.

“I don’t remember much to be honest. We were both pretty small.” He grinned. “I just remember afterwards. Logan kept coming into my room to sneak me chips and read his Physics text book to me”

“Aww! That so sweet!”

“Such a nerd.”

“Yeah.” Virgil ducked his head a little, apparently agreeing with both statements. He plucked a few strands of grass from the lawn, twisting them between his fingers.

Roman glanced at Patton, concerned. They both knew Virgil missed his brother, away at college and not due for a visit for at least a month. They also knew that asking him directly about it was a guaranteed way to get the emo to tense up.

Just as Roman was debating launching himself into a rendition of Black Parade as a distraction Virgil rolled his shoulders a looked up at him.

“Your turn.”

That cold grip he’d felt when he thought Virgil had noticed one of his scars was suddenly back ten fold.

“Oh…”

That made sense. Patton had shared a dumb sibling story. Then Virgil. Now it was his turn. It was only fair.

“Well…”

Roman was suddenly finding it quite difficult to breath. And to think. What was he supposed to tell them?

“I…”

He sat frozen. While two expectant faces stared at him, he racked his brain for a story to tell.

  -

When they’re seven Roman draws out his first story. Crude renderings of superheroes and scientists and scientist-superheroes in the rainforest. it’s boring Remus complains when he sees it. You’re boring Ro’. Make them fight! No - make ‘em smash that guys head in!

No! Roman shouts and Remus scowls. Grabs at the craft scissors lying on the table and jumps towards Roman; trying to both rip the paper out of his hands and cut it to pieces at the same time whilst Roman screams and screams.

Later, their mother gently cleans the tiny scratches on Romans hand whilst Remus sulks at the table. He started it Remus mutters and Roman feels his mothers arms tighten around him. Protective.

 - 

When they’re nine they get taken on a trip to the public pool in the next town. This pool is bigger than their local one with slides and pool toys and jets. The two of them spend a happy hour chasing each other with pool noodles and racing each other in the water. And then Remus pushes Romans head underwater and holds him down until his lungs are burning so badly he opens his mouth. He spends their last precious minutes of the trip hacking and spluttering. Clinging to the pools edge with his brothers laughter ringing in his ears.

 -

When they’re eleven Remus sneaks into his room at night with their fathers laptop tucked securely under his arm. Wakes Roman up by crashing onto the bed next to him and says look what I found!

Roman isn’t really sure what he’s found at first. The sounds off, presumably to avoid alerting their parents in the room next door, the websites unfamiliar – it takes a few seconds for the pulsing blobs to be recognisable as people and when they do YURGHH! Roman shrikes slams the laptop closed whilst Remus howls with laughter what were they doing to that woman?!

what were they – oh my god your such a pussy Roman don’t you know? Let me show you another one-

NO

Roman kicks and punches and shoves trying to get Remus away from him and Remus is laughing laughing laughing until he isn’t. Until their parents are in the room, shouting, trying to separate them and Remus is using the laptop like a bludgeon, slamming the edge into Romans ribs, each hit punctuated with Why! Do! You! Ruin! Everything!

The next day Virgil asks if he wants to come and play in the tree house and Roman says no. He has to be home early. Visitors. Virgil accepts the lie easily and Roman tries not to breath to deeply.

  -

The thing is you cant blame Remus. You’re not allowed. Not really. 

There’s something wrong with him.

What that something is seems to change often depending on which adult you ask. Every few months their parents bring Remus back from a new therapist with a new diagnosis and a new bottle of pills and big grins because THIS time they’re going to fix him.

  -

When they’re twelve Romans mother smiles at him and says Your such a good boy Roman. You keep me going. Their mother doesn’t smile much these days and the sight of it is almost as good as the praise. I know its hard. It must be so frustrating for you.

Last month Remus had convinced an older boy to gift him a box of cigarettes. That morning he’d  found them again and finally tried to smoke them, recruiting a reluctant Roman to keep watch. When he’d gagged on the taste he’d made exaggerated vomiting noises before stuffing the still burning end into Romans palm.

But we’re all in this together. You know?

Roman knows. He wants to help. He decides that unless the injury is bad enough he can’t fix it himself he simply wont tell his parents. He wants to help keep them going.

  -

When they’re thirteen Remus watches some murder mystery show and decides to burn his fingerprints off on the kitchen stove. We should do yours too! Shoving his mangled thumb under Romans nose. The smell makes Roman gag. Remus’ eyes are fever bright. We could be partners in crime!

 -

When they’re fourteen Remus decides he wants white streaks in his hair. And since they’re twins Roman should too. His attempt to bleach Romans hair as he sleeps leads to ruined sheets and a smattering of chemical burns across his neck and shoulders. He tells Patton it was a cooking accident and invests his saved allowance in jackets with high starched collars.

 -

When they’re fifteen he tells someone.

Their school has an assembly. Some outside company performing a play about abusive relationships. The teachers all have their sombre This Is A Serious Topic Don’t You Dare Laugh faces on as the actors work. Roman watches closely, picking up on all the false steps and poorly delivered lines which he would surely have avoided if he was an actor. The story is about a school girl who gets into a relationship with an older man who turns abusive. All throughout the play she drops increasingly massive hints to her friends and family who blithely ignore her until she dies spectacularly and loudly in the final scene.

On one side of Roman, Patton is fully sobbing. On the other Virgil is quite possibly asleep. The actors come out to a smattering of applause (lead overly enthusiastically by Patton) and launch in to a pre-prepared speech. Remember the signs! Tell a parent or teacher if you’re in trouble! If you suspect your friend is in trouble! Abuse can happen to anyone! Abusers can BE anyone!

Huh. Roman thinks afterwards.

He probably doesn’t count if it’s a sibling though.

Remus isn’t a stranger. Like the man in the play. And they’re the same age.

Still.

The next day he feels like he’s in a trance.

He takes his jacket off in his first class. Art. Pat and Virgil aren’t in this class with him. Better that way.

There are bruises on his forearms. Dark splotches which are so so obviously made by fingers.

He waits. One minute. Two.

Roman! His teacher is in front of him, faster than he anticipated, alarmed look on his face. What happened to your arm?

Stay in the trance. No shaking. M-my brother did it. He wanted the TV remote.

A pause that seems to last and hour and then his teachers’ laughing a shaky laugh. Smiles at him exasperated but fond. Roman aren’t you two a little too old to be roughhousing like that?

Right

It doesn’t count.

You can’t be abused by a sibling. A few cuts, bruises, scars – that’s just sibling culture baby. Virgil and Patton have stories too – you don’t see them freezing up. Complaining

Don’t be a pussy Roman.

He puts his jacket back on and keeps it on for the rest of the day.

 -

When they’re sixteen Remus comes home for the weekend, sits at the kitchen table and asks if Roman wants to hang out.

-Remus goes to a special school for behaviourally challenged students and only comes back every other weekend. Their parents cried when he left. Thought they’d failed. Felt devastated. Roman didn’t feel much of anything and wonders if that makes him a bad person-

Remus is calmer these days but Roman still says no. He has plans with his friends. Oh yes. Remus rolls his eyes Paddington Bore and the Virgin.

Roman glares at him. Don’t call them that. Even though that’s basically affectionate, for Remus. And Remus looks at him for a long moment before nodding. Standing up, shoving the table hard into Roman’s hip leaving him gasping in pain.

By the time he’s limped his way to Virgil’s house the sun is high in the sky. Patton suggests lazy nap time in the tree house and just looking at the ladder makes Roman want to vomit.

It’s such a beautiful day Padre he crys, lets lie amongst the wildflowers like the majestic forest nymphs we are.

Its literally just grass Virgil sighs but Patton laughs and Roman lowers himself stiffly down. Carefully keeps the pain out of his face as his hip makes contact with the ground. Turns away from them whilst he grits his teeth through it, ostensibly napping until Virgil says

Hey, how’d you get that scar?

   -

“Roman?”

Virgil and Patton were both staring at him. Shit Roman thought. How long had he been day-dreaming? Day-reminiscing? Day-

“Earth to Roman.” Patton again, there was crinkle of concern between his eyebrows and that wouldn’t do at all.

“Well-“ Roman boomed in his best dramatic bellow, what Virgil call his ‘Prince Roman’ voice: “I am afraid I will have to disappoint you my friends, twins are not bound by your foolish ‘older sibling’ ‘younger sibling��� stereotypes”

“I mean, technically, one of you is the older sibling” Virgil muttered while Patton laughed “you’re seriously telling me neither of you ever did something dumb and got the other one hurt?”

“Virgil Madelaine McAlister-“

“Not my middle name.”

“-I will have you know that I have never done anything dumb. Ever. In my life!” he punctuated that statement with a dramatic point to the heavens. Patton was now laughing hard enough that Roman was fairly sure he should be offended and Virgil was fighting a smirk.

“You really never fight?”

“We’re a united front.” Drop it, drop it please just drop it he chanted internally.

And then, miracle of miracles, Virgil did. Letting himself flop back to the ground with a soft ‘humph’.

“It must be nice to have a twin” Patton said a little wistfully. Careful he arranged himself back on the ground so his head was cushioned on Virgil’s stomach. “you’re basically born with a ready-made friend!”

“And you get to do everything together” Virgil murmured a faint blush on his face and one hand hovering in the vicinity of Patton’s hair. “No one has to get left behind when one goes off to college.”

Roman glanced down at him, worried, but Virgil just met his gaze softly, one side of his mouth pulling up into one of his rare sweet smiles. “You’re so lucky Roman.”

Roman nodded. Ignored the quick flare of pain in his hip as he laid himself back down in the grass. He let out a contented sigh as the warmth of the ground sunk into his bones, soothing the ache

“Very lucky.” He agreed quietly.

[billiejs]

Three times the boys are blown away by pop culture and new technologies (and one time when Julie can’t resist the 90s)

Julie and the Phantoms, Julie/Luke, the timelines are not super accurate but bear with me, 1.9k 

ALEX is obsessed with the Harry Potter books 

Luke checks his phone again for the seventh time in the past ten minutes, his guitar hanging from his shoulders. 

“DUDE!” He shouts out, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you gonna join us or what? We were supposed to start rehearsing half an hour ago!” 

Alex’s head peeks from the loft: he’s laying on the pavement beside the sofa, and his eyes are barely visible from behind a battered copy of a book. 

Julie sighs. Luke looks ready to blow Alex off, but she’s pretty sure it’ll make no difference. 

“I’m sorry! I’m nearly finished with this chapter, I swear!” Alex turns a page, eyes glued to the book. 

“You said that three chapters ago!” Luke’s eyes bulge out and he turns to Julie, pointing frantically upwards. “Is he serious? Are you serious?” 

Julie opens her mouth, but she’s not sure of what to say. Alex has been like that for the past three days. 

“Hey guys,” Reggie strides in, an open bag of Doritos in one hand and an aura of complete calm around him. Julie hadn’t even noticed he’d left. “Here Luke, you look nervous. Have some of these.” 

Luke looks at Julie, then at Reggie, then he shoves his hand in the bag of chips and starts munching angrily on a handful of Doritos. 

“Hey, ‘lex!” Reggie happily calls out. “Want some Doritos?” 

“Not now, I’m reading!” 

“IT SHOULD BE, NOT NOW I’M PLAYING!” 

“Luke, calm down.” Julie pleads, “He’s about to finish the book anyway.”

“Whatcha reading, Alex?” Reggie calls out to the loft. 

“It’s those damn Harry Potter things.” Luke seethes. “It’s like he can’t stop reading, he’s obsessed! Am I the only one who remembers we have a gig in four days?”

Reggie nods sympathetically at Luke. 

“Yeah man. But that’s a really cool story, I watched the films with Carlos last week,” Reggie mimics a brain explosion. “I was mind blown. Hey Alex, which one are you reading?” 

“Half-Blood Prince.” Alex replies, “And I’m almost done so…” 

“Ohhh that’s a good one. Did you already get to the part where Dumbledore dies?” 

A stunned silence falls over the studio. 

“Oh, boy.” Julie covers her face with her hands. A heavy rumble of footsteps announces Alex’s descent from the loft: his hair is sticking in weird directions and his eyes are bloodshot. He looks at Reggie like he’s ready to murder him. 

“Dumbledore what now?” Alex hisses, stepping forward.

“Dies. Snape kills him. Were you there yet?” 

Alex points his drumstick at Reggie’s face like it’s a magic wand. 

“NO, I WAS NOT!” Alex shouts. “HOW COULD YOU, REGGIE?” 

Before either Julie or Luke can do anything to stop him, Alex throws himself at Reggie and they both roll around the floor, trying to get on top of each other. Julie slips an arm around Luke’s waist to give him a comforting squeeze.

“We’re not going to get anything done today if we let them do this.” She reminds him. Reggie is currently smacking Alex with a throw pillow and Luke observes attentively. 

“Just a little more. Alex deserved it.” 

LUKE adores School of Rock

“Your boyfriend,” Alex comes into the kitchen with his hands on his hips and glares at Julie, “Is a hypocrite.” 

Julie, on her tiptoes to reach a jar of strawberry jam on the top shelf, just stares back.

“Be a little less specific, will you?” 

“Come see for yourself.” Alex grabs her by the hand and pulls her all the way to the studio, where Luke is currently busy playing a guitar solo kneeling on the floor, hair drenched in sweat.

“NO YOU’RE NOT HARDCORE,” he shouts, “UNLESS YOU LIVE HARDCORE!” 

“Ah,” Julie stands back and enjoys the show. “Luke, have you been watching School of Rock again?” 

“No,” Luke lies, smiling like Julie’s just brought the sun back after a dark winter. “Maybe?”

Julie purses her lips, smiling. She gets why Luke identifies so much with that movie. Jack Black’s love for rock music and the whole ‘stick it to the Man’ talk are all Luke is about. 

“You got mad at me for wanting to read Harry Potter instead of playing…” Alex accuses. 

“But I am playing.” Luke protests, his fingers sliding on his guitar to play a riff that Julie’s pretty sure he’s stealing from Hendrix. 

“Not our music!” Alex protests. “And before you even think about suggesting it, no, we’re not going to dress up in school uniforms for our next gig.” 

“You would rock a skirt, though.” Reggie points out.

“I would,” Alex flips his hair out, “And knee socks too. But can we please get to practicing now?” 

“It’s just, such a good story,” Luke tells Julie in a dreamy tone later that evening, while he’s splayed out in the garden squinting at the sky. There’s way too much light pollution to see any stars though. “I mean, the guy has a dream, and not only he manages to stay true to himself despite everyone going against him, he also inspires younger kids to do the same!” 

“Yeah, I know,” Julie laughs, petting Luke’s head in her lap. “You see yourself in him.” 

“I do,” Luke grins. “But I’m much better looking.” 

Julie lightly pulls at the hair on the back of his neck. 

“And people think Reggie is the vain one…”

Luke laughs, nestling more comfortably against her touch. Ever since they’ve become human again, he can’t seem to get enough. 

“You know what I was thinking…” he begins, tentatively. 

“No.” 

“You didn’t even let me speak.” 

“I already know what you’re going to say.” 

Luke sits up, making puppy eyes at her. 

“Come on, Jules! It would be epic!” 

Julie sighs, taking Luke’s hands in hers and looking him straight into his eyes. 

“No, Luke. You’re not stage diving at our next gig.” 

REGGIE can’t get enough of Siri

“Guys, I think something is wrong with Reggie.” Julie announces nervously, twisting her hands as she walks into the living room. Alex and Luke are sprawled in front of the Tv and don’t look half as worried as she thinks they should. 

“And you’re only noticing this now?” Alex arches his eyebrows, unbothered. 

“I’m serious, guys! Come see!” 

Julie guides them upstairs to the room that’s become Reggie’s, and they all peek from the semi-closed door.

“Hey, Siri,” they hear Reggie say, “Does anyone ever ask you, like, how are you?” 

“I’m fine, thank you. Helping you makes me happy.” 

“That’s very nice, thanks Siri.” Reggie sighs happily, kicking his feet up on his bed. “You never judge me, even when I asked you what a wi-fey was.”

“I don’t know what a wi-fey is. Were you looking for Wi-Fi?”

“I was!” Reggie slaps himself in the forehead. “You get me so well. Here, play our song Stand Tall, it’s one of my favorites.”

“Now playing: Stand Tall, by Julie and the Phantoms on Spotify.”

Outside in the corridor, Julie gestures frantically towards the room. 

“See what I mean?” She whispers, “That can’t possibly be okay.” 

“Think he feels a little lonely?” Alex scratches the back of his head. 

“I mean, he’s basically using Siri as a therapist so…” 

“I think you’re overreacting,” Luke shrugs. “He’s always liked robots. Siri is basically a talking computer, Reggie digs that stuff. 

Another happy sigh from Reggie as the song ends has them all listening intently. 

“So, this is one of the new songs. Sometimes I think to the fact that I actually died and lost my whole family and it’s a bit much, you know what I mean? I would like to find my parents, I think.” 

“Here are all the results I found for ‘parents’”

“Wait, you can do that?” Reggie sits up on his bed, his mouth hanging open. “I thought you could only call the pizza guys!” 

“Calling: pizza guy.” 

“Siri, you’re a blessing!” Reggie is enraptured. “I was feeling sad and you call pizza! It’s like you can read my mind!” 

“He shouldn’t be talking to Siri when he feels sad,” Julie hisses. Alex has sort of caught onto her concerns, but Luke merely giggles.

“I bet he’s going to call the milkshake place next.” 

“Siri,” Reggie says as soon as he’s placed his pizza order, “Can we call Gordon’s Milkshack next? I have a craving for a chocolate banana shake.” 

“Called it!”

(Bonus: JULIE discovers the Spice Girls)

Luke knows that one of Julie’s favorite parts of hanging out with them is introducing new technologies and pop culture wonders for the Millennials and Gen Z experience; she does this thing where she tilts her head to the right while she watches them discover something new and has a cute little smile Luke can’t get tired of seeing. 

He’s tried to do the same for her, but it seems that she already knows everything about the early 90’s. 

Except one day, he’s walking into the studio a little earlier than usual and finds it occupied by a Julie like he’s never seen her before, flailing her arms around and shaking her hips to the beat of a sugary pop song he knows all too well. 

“If you wanna be my lover…” 

Luke slaps a hand on his mouth and hides behind the door, watching Julie belt out Scary’s rap verse in perfect time. When the song ends, he comes out of his hiding spot with a cheek-splitting grin. 

“That was amazing!” 

“Luke!” Julie’s cheeks are blazing, but Luke can’t tell if it’s embarrassment or rage. Probably both. 

“Before you say anything,” Luke holds up his hands, “I was here for only a minute, but you rocked every single second of it.”

“Yeah, I like the Spice Girls, okay?” Julie nervously twists her hair into a ponytail and refuses to look him in the eyes. “I was going through a playlist and it came up, it’s good fun!” 

“Hey, no judgment!” Luke laughs, cupping her heated cheek in his hand and pulling her forward or a quick kiss. “You’re almost seventeen now, basically an adult. You can listen to whatever you want.” 

Julie smiles against his lips and kisses him again, humming the melody of Wannabe as he does. 

“Good thing your friends love me,” Luke laughs. 

“We have the same friends, I’m not sure it counts.”

Reggie and Alex choose that very moment to barge in, as if they’d been summoned. 

“Practice time!” Reggie announces, pinching Luke’s waist and sneaking out of reach immediately. “No more love-birding here.” 

Alex reaches Julie’s laptop that’s still plugged into the sound system.

“Oh, let’s see what your love tunes are…���

“NO!” Julie’s horrified shout comes too late, because Alex is already doubled over laughing. 

Luke leaves her to shout about privacy while Say you’ll be there blasts over the speakers.

“I’ll be right back guys.” He says, stepping out of the studio. He’s got an idea and there’s no time to waste. 

Luke fishes his phone from his pocket and scans through his contact list. Reggie’s right: these touch screen thingies are pretty cool after all. 

“What do you want?” A shrill, annoyed voice comes up from the other end of the line. 

“Hello to you too, Carrie,”  Luke smiles through the phone.

“Is Julie sick? Did she find out about the surprise party? Is this why you’re calling?” Carrie’s tone sounds accusatory, and Luke just knows that there is no way he’ll ever be able to get along with her. She is the spawn of his traitor ex bandmate after all. 

“No, but that’s why I’m calling you.” He explains, “How would Dirty Candy like to become Julie’s favorite performance of the party?” 

There’s a pause. 

“I’m listening.” 

Luke grins. He’s about to win the best-boyfriend-in-the-universe award. 

“I hope you’re ready to Spice it up, Carrie.” 

_______________________________________________ Thank you for reading! I know the Spice Girls are late 90s so the boys wouldn’t really know them, but bear with me.  Feel free to drop a prompt in my askbox if you’d like! More minifics (x)

[hpfannons]

Oh la la! Thats a fine choice of specimen. Thank you. :) lol. I only ask about the jealousy thing because I remember that Dick said one time that they only get to see him 2 months a year or something... I probably meant the batfam side i guess... lol but its good most Harry’s friend are okay or just roll with it... maybe I should asked some batfam moments during their stay in order hq... I really love that scene where Harry was on Dick’s lap and and the rest are just with them... I kinda want a scene with the same feeling...if you dont mind. xD thank you very much! glad to hear ur answer about fudge and umbridge. thank you so much... im really immersed in this au... looking forward to part 7. >_< thanks and stay safe y’all.

Glad you like my batfam! My best friend and I spent way too long going back and forth on people we could agree on for different characters (I think Tim and Alfred were the hardest… but it was years ago, so don’t quote me on that lol)

Sorry about the jealousy thing though, miscommunication on my part. I blame that for answering at 3 am on my phone XD

Yes, there is a lot of buried jealousy with the Batfam. Though surprisingly, most of it comes from Harry. That’s mostly because all these new family members come in while he’s at school, so it kind of feels like they’re all much more close knit with each other than with him because he’s not there for the large portion of the year.

They’re all happy to include him and catch him up with things he missed while he was at school… But there are some things you just have to be there in the moment for, because retelling the story just isn’t quite the same.

That’s not to say that the rest of the Batfam don’t have the same feelings as well, I think I’ve mentioned before that Tim and Harry especially are very close (actually best friends, on the same level as Harry and Ron) so Tim is definitely one of those people who feels Harry’s lost during the year the most.

Add on the fact it’s not really that easy to keep in touch with him while he’s at school, and it really is just hard on everyone.

As a side note, I fully believe the family would find some kind of way to make alterations to a communicator that will work at Hogwarts. Considering how many people who both use magic and have been involved with the Justice League in some way or the other, I find it hard to believe they haven’t found a work around for the whole magic screws with tech problem. At the very least, Harry would have a way to check his email from family, b/c making Headwig carry letters from Scotland to New Jersey and back is just cruel.

As far as the Batfam hanging out around 12 Grimmauld Place… They’re trying to be as non-confrontational as possible, even if there’s still some ruffled feathers from the first night. So the boys mostly go along with helping clean out the place under Molly’s orders - Jason was originally kind of prickly about it because he’s not a child (certainly not her child), so he found getting ordered around kind of insulting… Until his inner clean freak won out and yeah, this place does need a lot of work. Alfred has taught them all well, and it shows.

Tim mostly hauls himself up in the library when he can get away from clearing out pixies and de-gnoming the garden. He’s got like four notebooks full of information and Ron is a little shocked to find out Harry wasn’t kidding when he said Tim was worse than Percy and Hermione together when it came to information gathering.

Damian has less than stellar people skills at the best of times, and here he’s decided he doesn’t care very much for anybody over the age of seventeen (that’s not family anyway), so most of Dick’s time has been dedicated to keeping the youngest away from most of the Order. Not that he really blames him, Dick isn’t nearly as vocal about it as Damian, but he is also just completely done with all of them. He’s only playing nice because they’re here for Harry.

Bruce has also posted himself up in the library, reading everything he can get ahold of in regards to the history of the wizarding world trying to understand exactly what he’s son has gotten wrapped up in. Because lord knows nobody in this house is going to explain it to him… At this point he’s about one wrong comment away from telling them exactly where they can shove their ‘muggle’ excuses.

There was one notable evening though, when the boys as well as the Weasleys and Hermione were just hanging out in a parlor or sitting room or whatever it was supposed to be. Jason had been messing around with an old radio he found the other day and between him and Tim, they managed to get it working. The minute they recognized Britney Spears’s voice, there were four sets of eyes immediately on Dick who gave all of twenty seconds of resistance before he was up and dragging people along to dance with him. The impromptu party had ended up going on for hours, Tonks getting roped into the fun with them while Sirius and Remus smiled fondly from the doorway. Molly made a passing comment about bedtime, but didn’t argue back when that was quickly shot down by the other adults. Let the kids be kids while they could.

As far as soft moment’s for the Batfam… there are two that really come to mind, though they’re kind of sad though.

The first is really kind of short, but it’s after the battle of Hogwarts, and Harry’s come back from his final fight with Voldemort, and there’s just people everywhere in the great hall, but Harry knows exactly where he’s going. Bruce is standing to the side, watching while Jason’s getting patched up, and trying to keep an eye on his other kids as well. Everyone's a little banged up and bruised, but they’re all alive, and that’s the important part right now.

And then he sees Harry and there’s this almost tangible sense of relief because now all of his kids are present and accounted for, and Bruce feels like he can finally breathe again. And Harry just like collapses into Bruce who has to scramble a little bit to catch him, but then just stands there and holds him, because Harry is just completely exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally. And all Bruce hears is “I want to go home Dad.”, and honest to god Batman almost starts crying in the middle of the great hall in front of everyone.

The other is after the Triwizard Tournament, and everything with Mad-Eye Crouch, when Harry’s in the hospital wing. Everyone’s standing around trying to figure out what the hell just happened, and Harry wakes up still kind of groggy from whatever Madam Pomfrey gave him to knock him out, and he ends up breaking down crying in front of everyone.

Dick doesn’t even hesitate, he’s on Harry before the first tear even really starts rolling and just tucks him into the crook of his neck and let’s him cry it out. Except Harry’s been traumatized and he’s like full-on sobbing, almost wailing, and that just stabs everyone straight through the heart. Tim’s next, doesn’t say anything, just sits down behind Harry and tucks himself up against his brother’s back. Damian and Jason join in as well, Damian sitting on Harry’s other side and just quietly putting his head on Harry’s shoulder; while Jason sit’s down a little farther away, reaching out to put a hand on the back of Harry’s neck. Bruce is standing on the other side of the bed, and just runs a hand through Harry’s hair while they let him get it out and calm down.

And once he’s down to hiccups and kind of stuttery breaths, Dumbledore says something about leaving him be, and if looks could kill… Jason’s still armed, and he almost, almost goes for the gun. Bruce head’s it off at the pass though, saying he’ll go with them to discuss things further and also inform the league about what’s happened, but the rest of the boys will be staying.

Madam Pomfry insists on dosing Harry again, and after some reassurances that his brother’s aren't going anywhere, they get him to drink the potion. That’s as far as they indulge the mediwitch though. Tim and Damian both try to settle down in the bed on either side of their brother, though after some jostling around and being unable to really fit two teenagers and a ten year old comfortably in a hospital cot; Dick and Jason move another bed over flush against Harry’s and Dick manages to coax Damian into it with him, as long as the younger is able to keep hold of Harry’s arm. Jason retakes the seat he’d pulled up to the bedside, kick’s his feet up on the cot and settles in to keep watch over the lot of them for the night. And that is exactly where and how Bruce finds them the next morning.

[thepartyresponsible]

this fill is for @rozword and @hargreeeves who both asked for frank castle/jason todd and whose prompts happened to work well together. so here’s the first half of a two-part no superheroes au, in which jason is not red hood and has never been robin, but he’s still getting into fights in alleys. the prompt for this one is: "are you leaving?"

warnings for some canon-typical violence and also some canon-typical bad medical decisions.

                                                         ---

Jason wakes up on a couch that isn’t his, in a house he doesn’t know, with a dog he’s never met curled up next to him. There’s also something wrong with his face and temple and entire skull region, but he’s not surprised by that, given the facts of the situation.

“Fuck’s sake, Rex,” he says, patting the dog on the head. “Why didn’t you cut me off before I drank the entire bar?”

The dog whines softly and nudges Jason’s chin with its nose. The lick to the face that follows isn’t especially upsetting on its own, but Jason’s instinctive flinch sets off an entire New Years Eve of fireworks behind his eyes.

“Holy shit,” he says, swinging his legs off the couch and accidentally dumping the dog to the floor. When he brings his hand up to the side of his head, he touches something rough and tender, a fresh scab over one hell of a swollen bruise.

He reevaluates the dizzy, nauseated feeling in his stomach. He considers the fact that he isn’t wearing a shirt. He investigates the couch, staring pensively at the smears of dried blood that indicate he was still bleeding a little when he passed out.

His boots are sitting neatly by the side of the couch, socks folded and placed on top. His wallet’s there, too, although his phone is missing. He’s still wearing his jeans.

He cuts his loses, shoving his feet into the boots, his socks into one pocket, and his wallet into the other. After a brief internal pep talk for his stomach and his head, he heaves himself into something approximating a standing position and starts maneuvering his way toward the door.

It’s not so bad, really. If he keeps moving, he almost doesn’t notice the way the floor kinda sways under his feet.

He has his hand on the doorknob when he hears it. A soft shift behind him, the creak of wooden furniture, and then a voice, quiet, clear, deep: “Are you leaving?”

Jason turns his whole body to see. He has no plans to try turning his head again any time soon.

There’s a man across the room, sitting in a sunlit breakfast nook, coffee mug in hand, staring at Jason with what Jason chooses to optimistically classify as resting murder face.

“Uh,” Jason says, fumbling with the stubborn door, putting a bit of weight behind his attempts to get through it. “Yeah. Had a great time.  Five stars. Thanks. Maybe next time, when someone says ‘fuck my brains out,’ consider the possibility that they didn’t mean it literally.”

The man’s dark eyebrows pull together. “I didn’t--- that’s not.” He sets the mug down and frowns at him, which is a revelation to Jason, who’d been under the impression that he’d been frowning the entire time. “I didn’t fuck your brains out.”

“Yeah, not for lack of trying,” Jason says. “What the hell even happened? Did I take a headboard to the temporal lobe and you just dumped me out here and hoped for the best? What the fuck is wrong with you? What the fuck is wrong with this door?”

“Deadbolt’s locked,” the man says. “And you’re concussed. You’ve been having a lot of trouble with doors.”

Jason finds the deadbolt and shoves it open. “Thank God,” he says.

“That isn’t gonna help you,” the man says.

“Could you sound more like a serial killer please?” Jason asks. “Really. When I relay this story to my friends, I want at least one of them to actually piss themselves.”

The man blinks and shifts back a bit, like he’s trying – from clear across this wide open room – to give Jason more space. “That’s the door to the backyard,” he says.

“Oh,” Jason says. He pushes the door open anyway and stares in bleak resignation at the six-foot fence. “I can jump that,” he says. Just to be clear.

“Yeah, I know you can,” the man says. “I saw you fight yesterday.”

Jason blinks. Now that he’s said it, there is some kind of memory there. Vague, half-formed. When Jason focuses on it, it waves and fades like breath in the winter. “There was a fight?”

The man looks uncomfortable now, glares down at his coffee for a second. “Yeah. You and a few guys. I was walking by. Heard some noises. Some yelling.”

It’s the word yell that does it. Summons a clip of memory out of the inky black swamp of last night. Jason, picking himself up off the ground, blood in his eyes. Shaking his head, blinking, and then catching, in the corner of his vision, this guy taking a brick out of someone’s hand and then breaking that arm, neat and fast. The snap, and then the scream.

“You broke someone’s arm,” Jason says.

“Well,” he says, sinking deeper into the chair, taking a sip of his coffee like he thinks it’s gonna somehow hide his face. “Like I said, there was a fight.”

Jason closes the door and turns back around. He takes a few steps closer to breakfast nook. He can’t for the life of him remember what the hell he was fighting about, but he figures it was probably worth it. He doesn’t get in that many fights anymore. He is learning, slowly, to pick his battles.

“So there was a fight,” Jason says, “and then, what? You were like ‘that’s hot, better bring that guy home?’”

He frowns. “Not like—I tried to call your friends for you, but you kept giving me the number for some pizza place.”

Jason does a quick mental check of the phone numbers he actually has memorized, and he begrudgingly admits that the top three are all fast food establishments. “Well, maybe I was hungry.”

He stares, deadpan and silent for a full beat. “Could be,” he admits. “You did throw up on my shoes.”

“And I’m not fucking sorry,” Jason says, even though he is. Also, somewhat mortified. “Was I giving you a bad number for 9-1-1, too?”

“No, but you had a lot of loud opinions about cops you really wanted to share. Figured it probably wouldn’t work out well if they showed up.”

Jason hasn’t fought a cop since high school. Again, he’s learning. But he’s willing to admit that some of his hard-won character growth might’ve temporarily vanished after the blow to the head.

“Coulda dropped me at a hospital,” Jason points out.

The man raises a single skeptical brow. “I tried.” He doesn’t elaborate, but the expression on his face indicates that the process of his attempt was not an especially pleasant one.

“So you brought me here,” Jason says, “and then--”

“Tried to clean you up a bit,” he says. “You didn’t like that. So I got you some water, and some ice. Checked on you a few times overnight. You didn’t like that either.”

Jason is starting to realize that maybe he’s been something of a nightmare and an asshole to this guy. “I bled on your couch,” he says, just so they can get everything out in the open.

“It’s okay.” He shrugs. “It’s not a great couch.”

Jason blinks at him. “You’re being really calm about this.”

He stares at him for a second and then drops his eyes to the table. After a moment, he shrugs again and looks up. “Combat vet,” he says. “Not the first or the worst head injury I’ve seen. Figured you’d be okay so long as you didn’t get confused and walk off a bridge. Or find another six guys to fight.”

“Six?” Jason asks. Jesus, he must’ve been really pissed about something. Or they were really pissed. Or they were mutually pissed at each other.

“Well, six when I got there,” he says. “Looked like maybe you’d already handled one of them.”

It occurs to Jason that, as shitty as this morning is and as bad as he feels, he’s probably supposed to feel a hell of a lot worse. Maybe he’s supposed to be dead right now.

“I’m Jason,” he says.

“Frank Castle,” the man says.

Jason gets another flash memory. Himself, banging his fist on a dashboard, yelling “Frankie says relax!” at a startled car of clubbers at a red light.

“Oh my God,” Jason says. Very carefully, he brings his hand up to his face. “I can’t believe you didn’t just throw me into traffic.”

“You weren’t that bad,” Frank says. “You only hit me once.”

Jason scans the patchwork quilt of memories he’s built so far. At no point does he remember hitting Frank. “When the hell was that?”

There’s a second where Frank seems to replay the night in his head, like even he’s having some difficulty tracking the madhouse funshow timeline of a concussed Jason. “You couldn’t get in the truck,” he says, finally. “It’s kinda high. You kept tripping on your boots. I was gonna help you. Got too close, I guess. So you elbowed me in the throat.”

“Right into traffic,” Jason repeats. “You coulda just…” He mimes picking up a body and hurling it into oncoming traffic.

“Nah,” he says. “Once you were done swearing at me, you were actually really sweet about it.”

Jason trudges the rest of the way across the room and slumps into the chair opposite Frank. He figures, at this point, he’s given Frank cause and opportunity to murder him. If Frank passed on his chance, he’s probably not interested.

“No sign of my phone?” he asks.

“Oh, found signs,” Frank says. “Looks like you broke it on somebody’s teeth.”

Jason sighs. “Goddamn it.”

“Can use mine,” Frank offers. He slides it across the table to Jason, all his motions so slow and measured that they don’t even make Jason feel seasick when he follows them. “If you can remember any number that isn’t for pizza.”

If Jason focuses past the ache in his head, he can remember Roy’s number. And Dick’s, too, although he’s really hoping it won’t come to that.

Jason picks up the unlocked phone and navigates to the call screen. “Thanks,” he says. “For not killing me. Or letting me be killed.”

Frank looks at him like he has no idea what to do with that. After a second, he stands up. “You want some coffee?”

“God,” he says. “Please, yes. Absolutely. And, like. Seventeen Advil.”

“Three Tylenol,” Frank says. “And you gotta eat toast.”

“Stop trying to save my life, Frank,” Jason says. “I’ve got it from here.”

Frank blinks at him, long and slow, and Jason’s not sure he could look more dubious if he tried.

“Fine,” Jason says. “Three Tylenol and some toast. Sounds great.”

Frank nods and sets off into the kitchen. Jason watches him go, memories shifting and settling in his head of Frank’s hands on the side of his face, carefully tipping him toward a light that hurt. An ice pack pressed gently to his skin, someone taking off his boots.

“You can borrow a shirt,” Frank calls back over his shoulder. “When you go. Yours was ruined.”

“Okay,” Jason says. “Thanks.” The dog sidles up next to him, presses its nose right into his palm. He dials Roy’s number as he scratches behind its soft, floppy ears. “I’m gonna take your dog, too.”

Frank looks over at him, eyes dropping immediately to the dog at Jason’s side and then rising to Jason. That resting murder face is still firmly in place, but Jason’s starting to learn how to see behind it, and there’s something like a smile back there, hidden behind the serious set of his mouth and the furrow between his brows.

“No,” Frank says. “Sadie stays.”

“Relax, Frankie,” Jason says, and Frank full-on rolls his eyes in the single most decisive display of emotion Jason’s seen so far.

“Don’t start that again,” he says. “My neighbors already left a shitty note.”

Jason hopes like hell that all his memories come back. Because while it sounds like there are parts of last night he’s happy to lose, there are other parts he kinda wants back.

Frank does that thing again where he doesn’t quite smile, and Jason grins back at him for a second before his face reminds him that emotive facial expressions aren’t really a good idea right now. He grimaces, and Frank’s smile disappears.

He ducks into the kitchen, and Jason presses ‘Call.’

[girls-scenarios]

Maybe It’s Not So Bad

Idols: Minju and Yujin (IZ*ONE)

Prompt: Kim Minju, the princess of the drama club and the most beautiful girl Yujin had ever laid eyes on, was standing in her living room. Could this get any worse?

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: This was my fic for the Girl Crush Fic Exchange, you can also find it over on AO3 if you’d like to read it there!

For parents, Chaeyeon and Sakura were usually pretty cool. Not only were they famous enough that the kids at school always asked Yujin about them, but they were also funny and laid back. They always supported Yujin and her younger sister Wonyoung, from letting them participate in all the teams and clubs they wanted to buying them the latest fashions to letting them know that they could talk to them about anything. When her friends complained about their parents not letting them go to parties or not understanding them, Yujin could never relate because she had a close relationship with her moms. Chaeyeon and Sakura encouraged her to live her youth to the fullest and let her be very open with them about her thoughts and feelings. So yeah, Yujin thought they were usually pretty cool.

Usually.

Yujin loved her moms, she really did. But she didn’t understand why they were so embarrassing. They were always so lovey-dovey and loud in public, they said weird and embarrassing things in front of her friends, and worst of all, even though they encouraged her to be a normal teen, they still treated her like a kid sometimes.

Now was one of those times.

Staying home alone over the weekend was a like rite of passage for normal teenagers (at least, that’s what the dramas on TV made it seem like), so when Chaeyeon and Sakura told both their daughters over dinner that the two of them would be going to a resort over the weekend for their anniversary, Yujin was immediately excited. It wasn’t like she was going to throw a big party or anything-she wasn’t brave enough to trash the place-but she had imagined inviting her friends to sleep over and play video games and eat junk food late into the night without anyone to tell her not to. She had imagined having one of the best nights of her life doing whatever she wanted to do with her friends and was already planning who to invite over and what takeout to order as they spoke.

And then her moms had crushed her hopes and dreams for the perfect weekend.

“A babysitter?” Yujin stood from her seat, her eyes narrowed and her hands planted firmly on the table as she stared at her moms, her mouth hanging slightly open in disbelief. “You got us a babysitter? I’m a junior in high school and I’ll be a senior in a few months, I don’t need a babysitter!”

“I wouldn’t call her a babysitter, although I’m sure she’s done that before too,” Chaeyeon said calmly, as if her two daughters weren’t so mortified they were about to melt into the floor. “She’s the daughter of a family friend and we’re just asking her to come over while we’re gone.”

“That’s the same thing as a babysitter,” Wonyoung complained, putting down her chopsticks and frowning. “Why do we need someone to stay with us? We’re home alone while you two are at work all the time.”

“This is different.”

“How?” Yujin demanded, crossing her arms.

“For starters, neither of you have ever spent the night alone without a parent or adult in the house,” Sakura said, glancing over at her wife before fixing her daughters with a small amused smile. “Second, if we left you alone, who would cook all the meals? I don’t want to come back to a destroyed kitchen.”

Yujin huffed, knowing that she had a point but not wanting to admit it. She was a danger in the kitchen and all Wonyoung knew how to cook was instant noodles, because Chaeyeon and Sakura loved cooking and were always the ones to do it. Still, she wasn’t about to back down. “We could just order takeout.”

“For breakfast, lunch, and dinner two days in a row?” Chaeyeon raised her eyebrows, then sighed and leaned forward, clasping her hands together. “Listen girls, you’re both great and we trust you not to throw any crazy parties or do anything bad. But trusting the two of you to cook, clean, and not mess anything up while we’re gone is another story. We just feel safer having someone else here to make sure the two of you don’t blow the house up on accident.”

“How would we blow up the house? We aren’t that stupid,” Yujin said, to which Sakura laughed.

“Yujin, you almost microwaved a spoon just last week.”

Blushing, the oldest daughter huffed and slumped back down into her chair, fuming internally and glaring down at the plate in front of her. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her.

“How old is the babysitter?” Wonyoung asked, a pout evident on her lips even as she apparently accepted the situation. Yujin’s frown deepened. Of course it was easier for her to accept, she was only in middle school so it wasn’t as embarrassing for her.

“She’s eighteen.”

“So she’s barely older than me!” Yujin threw up her hands in frustration. “This is dumb!”

“Yujin.” Chaeyeon fixed her daughter with a cool look, causing her to freeze. Her mom only used that look when she was dead serious. “We have already made up our mind. Nothing you do is going to make us think any differently. Now, please sit up straight and finish your food before it gets cold. We can talk more about this when you calm down.”

Grumbling, Yujin sat up in her chair and picked up her chopsticks. She couldn’t believe this was happening. This was a new level of embarrassment, even for her moms, and she could only hope that the “babysitter” was someone she didn’t know. Otherwise, she would have to immigrate and change her name to avoid the embarrassment of people at school finding out that her moms got her a babysitter at seventeen years old.

-

Later that night, after fuming in the shower, Yujin wandered into Wonyoung’s bedroom and flopped down face-first onto her younger sister’s big pink bed. Annoyed, the younger girl kicked at her shoulder, peering at her over her phone and letting out a whine when she saw her.

“Your hair is still wet, you’re going to get my blankets wet!”

“Shut up,” Yujin grumbled, her voice muffled by the blankets as she swatted her sister’s foot away. “We have a bigger problem on our hands than your blankets getting wet.”

“Huh?”

“Did you really forget that our moms are getting us a babysitter this weekend?”

“Oh, right.” Wonyoung frowned slightly and put her phone down, leaning back against her bed frame and picking up her fluffy pillow to hug it to her chest with a sigh. “I mean, you heard them, it’s not like we can do anything to change their mind.”

Yujin rolled over and stretched out her arms beside her, pouting up at the ceiling. “I can’t believe this is happening right now. They should have at least let me plead my case.”

“You can’t cook or clean and you almost blew up the microwave,” the younger girl pointed out, “you wouldn’t have been able to say anything.”

Yujin turned to frown at her. “Okay, sure, but do you really want to have a babysitter at your age? What if your friends find out?”

Wonyoung thought for a moment, pressing her lips together. “I mean, it’s kind of embarrassing,” she admitted, “but I would have had you telling me what to do anyway. Plus, I don’t think my friends are the type of people to make fun of me for it.”

“It’s not my friends I’m worried about. What if the babysitter girl is mean and tells the whole school she was hired to babysit me even though she’s only, like, a year older than me?” Just the idea was enough to make Yujin groan and cover her face. “I’d actually die!”

“You’re so dramatic,” her sister complained, then sighed again. “But I do hope she’s nice. I’d rather stay home without a babysitter, but it would be awful if she was strict and actually treated us like we’re kids.”

“I won’t listen to her even if she is strict.” Yujin rolled her eyes. “She’s only a year older than me, that’s dumb.”

“You’re dumb,” Wonyoung replied, picking back up her phone. “I’m not going to do anything that will get me in trouble. It’s not like being rude will change anything, you might as well accept it.”

“Wow, I can’t believe you’re siding with our moms over this.” Yujin sat up and huffed dramatically as she flipped her still-wet hair over her shoulder, splattering her sister with water and making her gasp. “I’ve lost my only comrade.”

“Yujin! Now everything is wet!” Wonyoung’s eyes flashed as she picked up the pillow next to her and the older girl screamed, jumping off the bed and making a run for the safety of her room as her sister chased after her, yelling something about her being annoying.

The pillow hit her door as she slammed it closed behind her and she could hear Chaeyeon call up the stairs for her not to slam things, but she just stuck out her tongue at the door, feeling uncharacteristically rebellious. Maybe it was because she was upset that her moms were treating her like a kid or maybe it was because she was hurt by their lack of trust. Whatever it was, it made her stomp over to her bed, grumbling under her breath about stupid parents and rules as she pulled out her phone to distract herself with dance videos, wishing, for once, that the weekend would never come.

-

Usually, Friday would find Yujin rushing home after dance practice, excited to stay up late watching dramas and playing video games with her sister. But today Yujin’s feet dragged underneath her and she stared down at the sidewalk, kicking at the small pebbles and leaves in her way as she headed home. Wonyoung walked just as slowly beside her, her hands shoved into the pockets of her hoodie and her lips curved down into a pout.

“Do you think the babysitter is already there?” Wonyoung asked, her shoulder bumping against Yujin’s as she avoided a crack in the sidewalk.

“I don’t know. I hope not. I hope she never shows up.” The older girl frowned and kicked the pinecone in her path extra hard, sending it skittering down the road. “We don’t have to stay with the babysitter, right?”

Wonyoung blinked and looked over at her. “What do you mean?”

“Think about it. There should be no reason that we have to stay home on Saturday. We should be able to go out with our friends, right? So we don’t have to see the babysitter until that night.”

“My friends did ask me if I wanted to hang out this weekend.” The younger sister perked up. “It should be okay, right? I mean, they let us go out on the weekends all the time.”

“That’s what I’m saying. They can’t make us stay with her all day.” As the two of them approached their house, Yujin stopped and reached out to grab her sister’s arm. “You aren’t going to abandon me with the babysitter, right?”

“Why would I abandon you?”

“I’m just making sure. When we were little you would always make me look bad in front of the babysitters too.”

“That was forever ago!” When Wonyoung saw that Yujin was serious, she sighed. “I won’t, I promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.” The younger sister reached out to curl their fingers together for a brief moment before breaking from her sister’s grasp. “Come on, let’s go inside now. Otherwise our moms are going to get onto us for being late.” She led the way up the stairs to the door and Yujin reluctantly followed with a huff, her eyebrows furrowed as she went through all of her complaints in her head.

Only for them to die on her lips when she stepped inside and saw the girl standing next to her moms.

Oh god. Kim Minju, the princess of the drama club and the most beautiful girl Yujin had ever laid eyes on, was standing in her living room. Her mouth went dry as she froze at the door, clutching her bag in her hands even as Wonyoung kicked off her shoes and cautiously walked inside, letting her bag fall off her shoulders.

“Come inside, Yujin,” Chaeyeon called, and Yujin swallowed as Minju turned to look at her with a small smile. The older girl waved and Yujin hesitantly waved back before quickly taking off her shoes, her head spinning. Was this really happening? “Girls,” Chaeyeon said as Yujin shakily approached, “this is Minju. You remember our friend Eunbi, right? This is her and Hyewon’s daughter. She’ll be staying here for the weekend to help you guys with food and cleaning. Please make her feel at home.”

“R-right,” Yujin stuttered, her rebellious phase disappearing as soon as it had appeared as she tried to come to terms with what was happening. Minju, the girl Yujin had been crushing on for years, was her babysitter. Could this get any worse? A giggle from Wonyoung reminded her that it could, in fact, get worse and she tried to force herself to get it together. She couldn’t make a fool of herself in front of Minju, even if her parents had already embarrassed her. So she flashed her signature cool smile and greeted the other girl. “Hey, I’m Yujin.”

“I know,” Minju said, making Yujin short circuit, blinking at her.

“Huh?”

The older girl laughed, but there was nothing mean about it. “I know who you are. You’re on the dance team at school. You guys are incredible, I come to watch every performance!”

“Really?” Well, so much for getting herself together. Yujin felt as if she were floating, or maybe swimming, through the air, the oxygen escaping her lungs as her heart pounded in her ears. Was this the gay panic she’d heard so much about? Her thoughts were scrambled, but she managed to force out a reply that didn’t make her look like a total dork. “Thanks! You know, I watch all of the drama club’s productions. You’re a really great actress!”

“Thank you, I’m flattered to hear that you think so.” The other girl smiled, sweet and shy, tucking a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear, and Yujin could feel herself blushing as her moms looked between the two of them.

“Oh, you two know each other?” Sakura beamed and clasped her hands together. “That’s great! I hope you all have lots of fun together while we’re away.”

“Not too much fun, if you know what I mean,” Chaeyeon said with a wink, making both of her daughters groan.

“Mom you’re so embarrassing,” Wonyoung complained, crossing her arms as Yujin stared down at the floor, letting her hair fall into her face and wishing it could hide her from the world. Why was this happening to her? She didn't think Minju was a bad person, but what if she told her friends? She’d never hear the end of it. Just the thought mortified her to her core and she swallowed, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans. Maybe she could bribe her not to tell or something….

“We already went over all the rules,” Chaeyeon said, handing a notepad to Minju. “The fridge and pantry are fully stocked and you can make anything you want. If you want to get a snack or drink for yourself that’s okay. The spare bedroom is all yours while you’re staying here, everything has been cleaned and set up for you so make yourself at home.” She turned her eyes to her daughters and fixed them with a stern stare that made them both stand up a little bit straighter. “Girls, make sure you’re nice to Minju, I know you’re both getting older but you still have to listen to her if she asks the two of you to do something. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” both girls responded in unison, and when Yujin glanced over to her side, she saw Minju stifle a laugh. Was that a good or bad sign? She really didn’t know.

“We’ll be back on Sunday morning. Don’t burn anything down until then.” Sakura stepped forward to give both of her daughters a hug, followed closely by Chaeyeon. At first, Yujin was stiff, but she hugged back reluctantly. Was it normal for teenagers to hug their moms? She really didn’t want to embarrass herself any more than her moms already had.

“We love you girls,” Chaeyeon said as she picked up the last of her bags, blowing them exaggerated kisses. Sakura laughed and followed suit, and this time, Minju did let out a little giggle.

“We love you too,” Wonyoung replied, and Yujin waved with the most genuine smile she could muster.

“Have a good trip!”

After a bit more cooing from Sakura, their moms were off, waving as they drove away. For a moment, an awkward silence fell over the room and Yujin worried at her bottom lip as she slowly let her hand fall to her side, watching her mom's car until it disappeared around the corner. This was really happening, and she had never once in her life been shy, but she had no idea what to say or do, just standing frozen in front of the window, too nervous to turn and look at the beautiful girl standing beside her.

Thankfully, Wonyoung cleared her throat, interrupting the awkward atmosphere and making both of the older girls turn to look at her “So, uh, what should we do for dinner?” The youngest asked, glancing at her older sister. There was the hint of a teasing smile on her lips, and Yujin narrowed her eyes as if to tell her sister not to say a word. Beside her, Minju (thankfully oblivious to the silent battle between sisters) checked her watch.

“What are you guys in the mood for?” She asked, “I can make just about anything as long as I have the ingredients.” She smiled that same shy smile as she shrugged her shoulders. “I might not be as good as your moms, but I’ll try!”

Wonyoung’s grin grew as she gestured to her sister, turning Minju’s attention to her. “I don’t know, what are you in the mood for, Yujin?”

She was going to kill her sister if she didn’t die from embarrassment first. The older girl turned her pretty smile to face Yujin, her eyebrows raised slightly, waiting for an answer, and the younger girl faltered for a moment before her dumb gay brain started to work enough for her to form sentences again.

“Um, I’m really okay with anything,” she forced out, and Minju let out a small giggle, making Yujin wonder if she was nervous too. If she stopped agonizing over every detail of the experience from her point of view, she could see how babysitting two teenagers could potentially be a bit terrifying. Still, being the babysitter was not as bad as being the baby-sat teenager, so she didn’t linger much on the thought.

“Well, you guys have to choose something for dinner, otherwise I won’t know what to make.”

“Then how about tteokbokki?” Wonyoung asked with wide eyes, taking advantage of the situation to suggest one of her favorite foods. Minju smiled, visibly relieved as her shoulders relaxed a bit.

“I can make that.”

“Awesome! I’ll be upstairs, just yell at me when it’s done. Oh, and don’t let Yujin near anything hot, she almost blew up the house using the microwave. Have fun!” With a satisfied grin, her teasing complete, Wonyoung turned and skipped up the stairs, leaving Yujin to blush and glare after her, running through ideas for revenge in her head. She was so going to get her for this later.

For a moment, there was once again awkward silence, until Minju cleared her throat. “Do I want to know how you almost blew up the house using the microwave?”

“I almost microwaved a spoon,” Yujin mumbled, ducking her head so that her short hair fell over her face. “But she’s exaggerating, my moms caught me before I could even turn the microwave on.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I almost did the same thing last year.” Minju giggled and Yujin finally dared to look up at her. There was a dusting of pink on her cheeks as she recounted her own near disaster. “I was really tired and forgot to take the spoon out of my soup after I stirred it. I would have blown up the microwave if my mom didn’t reach around me to yank open the microwave door. I got a pretty big lecture after that.”

Hearing that Minju - the most perfect person Yujin had ever laid eyes on - had also made the spoon mistake made her feel a little better, enough to laugh and rub at the back of her neck. “I’m glad to know that I’m not the only clumsy one, then.”

“Definitely not. I’ve had more mistakes in the kitchen than I’d care to remember.”

Yujin raised her eyebrows, a teasing smile creeping onto her lips. “We’re safe, right?”

The older girl waved her arms in front of her, as if to wave away Yujin’s mock concern. “Totally safe! I haven’t had a kitchen accident in at least a year. And if anyone is in danger, it would just be me.” The two of them laughed and Minju let out a sigh of relief. “By the way, I’m glad it’s you.”

Well, the blush was back. Yujin wondered if her eyes were as wide as they felt and, if so, how dumb she looked. “What? What do you mean?”

“When my moms told me that their friends wanted me to stay with their teenagers, well…. I was really nervous.” The older girl twisted her hands together. “I mean, it’s embarrassing on both sides, but I was kind of scared that the person I was staying with would lash out at me because their parents wouldn’t let them stay at home alone. So I’m glad it’s you.”

“Oh.” Yujin felt a bit ashamed, knowing that her plan had been to be as annoying as possible until the moment she walked in the door. But she swallowed, shoving her hands into the pockets of her uniform skirt because she wasn’t sure what else to do with them. “It is embarrassing,” she said slowly, “I mean, if people at school found out that my moms got me a babysitter, I’d be mortified.”

“I would never say anything,” Minju quickly assured her, waving her hands in front of her. “You don’t have to worry about that!”

“Thank you.” The younger girl let out her own sigh of relief, then smiled a real smile, most of the tension that she’d been holding in her chest since her moms told her about their trip washing away. “I’m glad it’s you too. Don’t worry, I won’t be too bad. I’m sure I’m not as bad as a toddler.”

Minju laughed, and Yujin let herself get lost in the sound of it for a moment, amazed that she was actually hearing it up close instead of from across the cafeteria. “Thank you, I'm relieved." After a pause, the older girl nodded towards the kitchen. "Want to help me with dinner? I'll make sure not to give you any dangerous tasks." Her face was hopeful and inviting as she pulled her chestnut hair back into a low ponytail, and Yujin wouldn't have been able to say no even if she wanted to. Minju was so pretty that she would have followed her into the sea had she asked.

"Okay," she said, her heart inching into her throat, wanting nothing more than to make a good impression. "As long as you don't think I'll be in the way of anything."

"You'll be okay, I won't let you get hurt."

-

Yujin had never been good in the kitchen. Maybe it was because she was clumsy when it came to anything other than dancing, or maybe it was because her moms had always cooked for her so she'd never had to learn for herself. Whatever the reason, she was sure that she was never supposed to step foot in a kitchen. Whenever she had tried to help or make things for herself in the past, disaster had always struck. Even just standing there seemed to bring bad luck, as Sakura always seemed to drop something or hurt herself when Yujin was in the kitchen. Of course, this could have been due to Sakura's own clumsiness, but still. She didn't have great experiences in the kitchen, so she couldn't help but be nervous when she followed Minju into the kitchen, obeying her instructions of "pull back your hair" and "wash your hands."

Thankfully, Minju was smart enough to keep her away from the oven and any potentially dangerous knives or boiling pots. Instead, Yujin became her helper, showing her where everything she needed was located and getting the ingredients for her when she called for them. The older girl did all the hard work (at least, as hard as making tteokbokki could be) but for once, Yujin didn't feel completely useless in the kitchen.

Instead she almost felt… comfortable. Minju liked to chat as she cooked, sometimes pausing to stare in concentration at what she was doing before jumping right back into the conversation after she was satisfied with her work. It was a cute habit and it made Yujin smile as she watched her, leaning back on the counter because her work was mostly done.

“Do you like cooking?” She asked after Minju paused again, this time to add the cheese to the top of the dish.

The older girl brightened, nodding her head. “I do! I’m kind of clumsy too, but whenever I’m stressed, I find that cooking calms me down. Plus, when I cook something for someone and they smile and tell me that it’s good, it makes me feel really happy. And it’s amazing to be able to cook whatever you want, whenever you want.” She turned to look back at the other girl, tilting her head. “I’m guessing you don’t?”

Yujin laughed. “It’s more like it doesn’t like me, honestly. I’ve tried but I can never get the hang of it. I always end up turning the whole experience into a disaster. My moms don’t even trust me to peel my own oranges because I almost chopped off my finger with the peeler when I was fourteen.”

“Woah, really?” The older girl raised her eyebrows, the hint of a teasing smile on her lips. “That’s almost a talent, then. I’ve never heard of anyone hurting themselves with an orange peeler.”

“If anyone can do it, it’s me.”

“That’s kind of funny.” As she turned her attention back to the almost completed dish, Minju shrugged, her voice wavering ever so slightly. “Though if it’s any consolation, I didn’t think this experience was a disaster. It thought it was fun.”

It took Yujin a moment to realize what she was talking about, and when she did, she froze, her fingers clutching at the marble countertop as she felt her face begin to heat up again, a wonderful dizziness encompassing her entire being. She felt as if she had just stumbled off a roller coaster, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she watched the tips of Minju’s ears turn a light pink and did her best to hold in the urge to let out a giddy scream into the nearest pillow. The older girl had already turned off the stove and moved the pan to the cool burner by the time Yujin was able to form words again, finally pushing away from the counter to wipe her sweaty hands on her uniform skirt so that she could finish her job as helper and grab the plates from the cabinet beside the oven.

“I-I thought it was fun too.” The words stumbled a bit on their way out, but she was rewarded with a bright smile from Minju nonetheless, making her world spin a little faster. For the briefest of moments, time seemed to stop, the sun freezing in the sky outside the window as Minju turned to face her, so close that Yujin could smell her floral perfume. It would be so easy to hold the older girl’s hand, and the way she was looking at her made Yujin feel like maybe Minju wanted all the same things that she did.

The older girl opened her mouth, parting those pretty pink lips with a flush on her cheeks, but Yujin never got to hear what she wanted to say.

Instead, she heard Wonyoung asking loudly if the food was done, effectively shattering the moment. The sun dipped down beyond the windowsill and she spun around to give her younger sister a glare as Minju cleared her throat and stepped back, turning her attention back to the almost forgotten dish on the stove.

“We were just about to call you,” Minju said. Wonyoung didn’t look like she believed her, looking between the two of them with mild amusement, but she didn’t say anything, just skipping past Yujin to grab a plate. The two of them didn’t move until she was finished, finally glancing at each other as Wonyoung sat at the table and put in her earbuds, blocking them out. The air was charged, but it didn’t feel… bad. Still, Yujin wasn’t sure what to say or do, and she kicked herself for suddenly becoming so awkward again as she gestured to the tteokbokki.

“Um, I guess we should eat too?”

“Yeah.” Minju let out a shy giggle and bumped her shoulder against Yujin’s as she picked up a plate, a silent reassurance that helped settle the nerves bundling in the younger girl’s chest. “I guess we should.”

-

An hour later found Yujin sitting beside Minju on the couch as Wonyoung scrolled through Netflix from the beanbag, asking them what they were in the mood to watch. After neither of the older girls gave her an answer (Yujin was having a hard time thinking about anything other than how close Minju’s hand was to hers) she shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, since you guys aren’t going to choose, we’re going to watch Hyori’s Bed and Breakfast.”

This snapped Yujin out of her gay stupour and she groaned in protest. “Again? But you’ve watched that at least a hundred times!”

“Because Lee Hyori is the queen. You snooze, you lose,” her younger sister replied with a grin. This interaction made Minju giggle and just the sound was enough to convince Yujin to stand this one down, not wanting to embarrass herself yet again in front of the older girl. Still, she huffed as she settled back into her seat. She would have crossed her arms, but she didn’t want to pull her hand away from the couch, just in case Minju decided to hold it.

“Fine. But we’d better be watching the episodes with IU in them.”

As it turned out, Hyori’s Bed and Breakfast was the perfect choice, both because it kept Wonyoung too occupied to do any teasing and because it was the perfect amount of funny. At some point, one of the guests made Minju laugh, and between high-pitched giggles she fell against Yujin’s shoulder, her hair tickling the skin at her neck as her body shook with laughter. She didn’t sit back up, even after the funny scene was over, and Yujin wondered if the older girl could hear how fast her heart was beating as she relaxed under the new weight, shifting so that her shoulder was more comfortable.

Slowly, she started to loosen up. She allowed herself to laugh loudly and lean back into Minju, allowed herself to rest her head on top of Minju’s, and even allowed herself to scoot a bit closer, pressing their thighs together under the blanket she’d pulled from the arm of the couch when Minju shivered halfway into the first episode. When Minju buried her face in her neck, getting what Yujin could only assume was second hand embarrassment from some of the guys on screen, she grinned and reached up to playfully pat her back.

“There, there, you can hide in my shoulder anytime” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice and Minju giggled again, gently hitting her thigh.

“Shut up,” she replied in a whisper, but she didn’t sound like she meant it and Yujin only grinned wider.

“Cute.”

“Shhhh,” Wonyoung hushed them, sending them a pout before turning her attention back to the TV, and both of them had to stifle their laughter, leaning back into each other with shaking shoulders.

For all the bragging she always did about being the hottest one in her friend group, Yujin had never been with a girl before. She hadn’t even cuddled while watching TV before, but somehow doing it with Minju felt natural. Once she’d gotten over her initial gay panic about the prettiest girl in the world touching her, it felt natural to throw an arm over her shoulder or to grab her hand when something funny happened on screen. Minju’s perfume filled her senses, enveloping her in a warm hug that she never wanted to leave.

Eventually she had to, but she was slow to untangle their limbs when Wonyoung yawned and turned off the TV, announcing that she was going to bed. Minju seemed just as reluctant to pull away, yawning and slowly sitting up without letting go of Yujin’s hand. For a long moment, they just sat there, Yujin watching Minju as the older girl gazed down at their intertwined hands, a comfortable silence settling over the living room.

Words lingered at the tip of Yujin’s tongue, but she couldn’t find a way to force them out, afraid to tell the truth just yet. It all felt so fast, and she would have whiplash if it wasn’t for the way Minju rubbed her thumb over the skin of the back of Yujin’s palm in slow, sleepy circles like she was meant to be there.

“Are you sleepy?” She asked, her voice uncharacteristically soft, breaking the silence when she saw the older girl yawn again. With a cute smile, Minju nodded, running her free hand through her hair.

“I am. But I also don't want to get up. This is nice."

Yujin's heart jumped and skipped around her chest and she put on her best smile (the one her friends said made them fall for her), settling back into the couch and tugging Minju's hand as a sign for her to follow. It didn't take much convincing. The older girl easily fell back against the couch with her, her head right back on Yujin's shoulder like it was meant to fit there.

"We don't have to get up yet. There's still plenty more episodes to watch."

-

It was one in the morning before the two of them finally made their ways to their separate rooms, reluctantly separating their fingers and closing the bedroom doors. That night, as Yujin closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, Minju’s laughter echoed in her ears and her perfume lingered on her skin, and she dreamed of a field of flowers dancing around the most beautiful girl in the world as she whispered sweet nothings into her ears.

-

Waking up to the smell of breakfast wasn’t really a new thing for Yujin. Chaeyeon and Sakura loved to cook a big breakfast on weekends, so she often woke up to the smell of french toast and coffee and the sound of her moms singing along to the latest Red Velvet song at full volume. Still, when Yujin woke up to the smell of waffles the next day, it immediately felt different than a usual Saturday. She’d never been so excited to eat breakfast before.

After washing up, she padded into the kitchen to find Minju humming softly along to the Dean song playing from her phone speakers as she opened the waffle maker. The older girl moved her shoulders and hips to the beat, doing a small dance that Yujin couldn’t help but find cute.

“Nice moves,” she said, making the older girl jump a bit and turn to her with wide eyes, pressing the hand not holding the waffle maker to her chest.

“You scared me!” Minju whined, letting out a small laugh as her cheeks colored pink, and Yujin grinned.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it.” It only took Yujin a few steps to cover the space between the two of them and she immediately made herself useful, pulling the plates from the cabinet as Minju pulled the now finished waffle from the waffle maker. “Breakfast smells amazing, by the way.”

The older girl huffed, but the smile on her face made it obvious that she wasn’t actually upset. “You know what? You can make your own waffle.”

“That’s probably not a good idea,” Wonyoung said as she turned the corner, making both of them jump apart. “Wow, deja-vu. Didn’t this same thing happen last night?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yujin replied, lifting her chin and shooting her sister a look. Wonyoung just grinned and shrugged past her to grab the first waffle.

“Whatever. I’m going over to Yuri’s house today, you two have fun!” With that, she skipped away, munching at the waffle in her hands and leaving the two older girls frozen, staring after her.

“Middle schoolers are scary,” Minju finally said as she turned to check on the next waffle, making Yujin burst into laughter.

“Right? I really never know what she’s going to say next.” Running a hand through her hair in what she hoped was an attractive way, the younger girl leaned back against the counter. “Are you doing anything today?”

Minju seemed surprised at her question, but she smiled and shook her head as she placed the second waffle on a plate, sparing her a quick glance before concentrating on pouring the batter in again. “I didn’t have any plans. I was going to just try and stay out of your way, since I didn’t know if you guys would want me around.”

Yujin couldn’t fathom a reality where she didn’t want Minju around, but she tried to be nonchalant as she spoke. “If that’s the case, do you want to go to the mall with me?”

Once again, the older girl’s eyebrows rose, but her smile grew brighter, making her look so cute that Yujin’s heart skipped a beat. “That would be great! I’d love to!”

“Awesome.” Yujin grinned as relief washed over her, happily taking a bite of her waffle. She had successfully invited her crush on a date. Well, she hadn’t exactly called it a date, but it was basically a date, right? She wasn’t going to think about it too much. “I was hoping you would say yes.”

Minju’s giggle filled the air as she stepped just a bit closer to Yujin, a blush on her cheeks, their shoulders brushing once again. “Like I would say no to you.”

Yujin does her best to pretend that statement doesn’t make her heart do backflips in her chest.

-

The mall was crowded, just like it was every Saturday, full of families and high school kids with nothing better to do. Still, as the two of them stepped inside, Yujin found that she was glad it was so busy and loud; that way, none of the awkward silence from before could come back.

“Did you want to come for anything in particular?” Minju asked her over the noise as they avoided a group of excited children, sparing her a curious glance. Yujin shrugged her shoulders and grinned.

“Not really, I just wanted to hang out with you.”

“Oh.” Pink colored the older girl’s features again as she smiled shyly and looked down at her feet, clasping her hands together in front of her. Yujin was totally going to scream to her friend Nako about this afterwards, but in the moment she managed to keep the giddy feeling in her chest down enough to speak without her voice wavering.

“Anywhere you wanted to visit?”

“Well….” Minju turned to her with big, hopeful eyes. “There’s a new store here that my friends said has really cute clothes. I’ve been wanting to check it out for a while now.”

God, Yujin was already whipped for her smile. “Then we’ll go there first.”

The store did, in fact, have plenty of cute clothes, along with an array of other cute things. The sheer amount of pink almost assaulted Yujin’s eyes as they walked in, but Minju lit up at the sight of it, and she was reminded that the other girl had dyed her hair pink at some point during her junior year, so this was totally her style. While most of the clothes were much too cute for Yujin’s taste (she was sure her flannel, band tank top, ripped jeans, and converse were making her stand out) she had to admit that they would look amazing on Minju. But then again, the older girl could pull off anything, including the simple floral shirt and jeans she had on.

At some point, as Minju pointed out a cute pink backpack purse, her hand found Yujin’s, and it struck the younger girl how much this felt like a date. She tried not to think about it too much, though, because just the thought made her heart pound in her chest and her mind spin a bit.

“Oh, what do you think about this?” Minju held up a striped pink and white sweater, then gasped as she saw a white beret with a pink rose design on the side. “That’s perfect!”

“It’s cute,” Yujin agreed, nodding her head. “I think you would look good in it.”

“Really?” Once again, Minju brightened, her smile widening as she dropped Yujin’s hand to grab the beret. “Do you mind if I try them on?”

“I don’t mind. Take your time.”

“You’re the best,” Minju said, reaching back to give Yujin’s hand a quick squeeze before skipping off towards the fitting rooms, leaving Yujin to internally freak out by herself.

The older girl ended up trying on a few more outfits, stepping out of the fitting room to do a little twirl for Yujin before looking at her with wide, expectant eyes. The only problem was that everything looked amazing on Minju, so Yujin’s answer was always the same: “you look great!”

“You can’t just say that every time,” Minju said with a laugh after she stepped out of the fitting room in a jean overall dress, and Yujin playfully raised her arms.

“But you look great in everything, I’m just telling the truth!”

“That’s not going to help me choose what to buy though.” The older girl’s eyes were sparkling as she spoke, obviously more happy than annoyed with Yujin.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to be any help because I love all the outfits you’ve tried on so far.”

“I’m flattered, really, but you aren’t helping.” Minju giggled and playfully rolled her eyes as she walked back into the fitting room. “I guess I’ll just have to choose on my own then!”

“I liked the sweater!”

Eventually, Minju decided on buying the sweater and hat, and Yujin hung back by the door until she joined her, swinging the bag in her hand and grinning happily. “Thanks for letting me spend so much time there. I know it wasn’t really your style, with the whole ‘cool dancer’ and ‘sporty’ aesthetic you have.”

With a gasp, Yujin pretended to be offended, pressing her hand to her chest in the most dramatic fashion she could muster. “Hey, I wear more than just flannels and sportswear! You just don’t see me outside of my uniform very often!”

“True.” The older girl bumped their hips together, looking ahead of her as she spoke. “We could change that, though.”

Oh, there went Yujin’s heart, flipping in her chest again. She could only hope that her smile wasn’t as big and dorky as it felt. “Yeah, we could.”

-

At some point, the two of them ended up in the ice cream parlor, sitting near one of the windows looking out at the food court as they ate their ice cream cones, the bags from the stores they’d visited crowded at their feet. Yujin was telling a funny story again (because she liked hearing Minju laugh). This time it was the story of how one of her friends on the dance team almost fell off the stage because he was messing around and how he ended up ripping his pants and having to perform with them ripped because they didn’t have any extra uniform pants. Minju giggled as Yujin recalled how the fact that the pants were sparkly actually saved him from people noticing the rip on the inside of his pants.

“That was during your girl group mashup dance, right? I remember that you were all wearing such sparkly pants.”

Yujin’s eyes widened and she blinked, staring at the older girl in awe. “You… How did you remember that?”

“I told you that I’ve watched every performance,” the senior responded with a sweet smile. “Plus, the pants for that mashup were too loud to forget.”

“True.” Dammit, Yujin could feel herself blushing, and she took a few bites of her ice cream to cool herself down, trying to hide the fact that she once again wanted to let out a giddy scream into the nearest pillow. “I’m still surprised you’ve seen every one.”

“All the performances are so cool, how could I not? Plus, you guys are kind of famous in the school. Our school is known for our drama club and our dance club, you know.”

“I knew we were popular. I mean, we’ve won a lot of contests. But I’m not sure if we’re on the same level as the drama club. The plays and musicals you guys do are amazing.”

“Oh, thanks.” It was Minju’s turn to blush as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I guess both of our teams are pretty amazing, huh?”

“They are.” Yujin was desperate to change the subject, mostly to avoid getting any more compliments. She usually loved being showered in compliments and basked in the attention, but when they came from Minju they made her feel like she was going to explode. “Is your club working on a new production right now?”

Thankfully, it worked. Minju’s face lit up as she began to talk about the play her club was working on and Yujin settled back into her seat, gazing affectionately at the older girl’s excited smile and falling deeper into her eyes, dark and sweet like cocoa. For once, Yujin didn’t want to be the center of attention. For once, she wanted to stay still and listen.

-

“What’s your favorite dish?”

They were unloading their bags when Minju casually asked the question, her head popping over the top of her car. Yujin paused, then slowly closed the passenger door with her hip, her hands full of the heaviest bags (yes, she was trying to show off, what about it?)

“Um, honestly whatever you cook will taste amazing.”

The older girl laughed. “Thanks, but I want to make something for you specifically.”

Well, she could feel herself blushing again. “Oh, okay.” She let Minju lead the way inside as she swallowed and tried to think of what she wanted. Then it struck her. “My moms got stuff to make pizza, we could do that tonight!”

“Oh, that would be fun! Homemade pizza!” Minju beamed, a bounce in her step as she walked inside. “Let’s do that. Are you going to help me?”

“Obviously,” Yujin replied, kicking off her shoes before dropping all the bags onto the couch and reaching up to pull her shoulder length hair into a ponytail, smiling her most charming smile. “What would you do in the kitchen without me?”

Her response pulled another giggle from Minju’s lips as the older girl walked past, gently and playfully shoving her shoulder, and Yujin wondered if it was possible to get addicted to a sound.

-

As it turned out, making a pizza was a lot less complicated than Yujin had previously thought. Especially since her moms had made the decision to buy the premade crust, cutting the amount of work in half. As she pulled out the ingredients, as instructed by Minju, the older girl pulled out her phone and set it on the counter. A moment later, music began to fill the room, and Yujin looked back to see Minju pulling her hair back to the sound of Stephanie Poetri’s “I Love You 3000,” her head nodding along to the beat ever so slightly.

Well, if she wasn’t head over heels already, she certainly was now.

“You have a good taste in music,” Yujin said as she walked over to the counter, and Minju smiled at her, her eyebrows raised.

“Really? You think so?”

“Yeah, I love this song.”

“Me too!” As Minju washed her hands, she started to softly sing, and Yujin’s chest constricted, taking away her breath. She had always known the other girl could sing - she had seen her in plenty of musicals before - but hearing her sing up close…. It was a totally different experience. For a long moment, she stood frozen, her mouth slightly open as she fell deeper and deeper into Minju’s endless charms. Then she swallowed and joined in, her voice just a bit softer than Minju’s as she sang the chorus with her, her arms still full of pizza ingredients.

The older girl turned around, her eyes widening slightly in surprise before her smile grew and her singing got a bit louder. As she sang, she walked over to take the ingredients from Yujin’s arms, and having her sing “baby take my hand” that close made the younger girl’s voice wobble ever so slightly, her heart jumping and stuttering in her heart.

As the song came to an end, the older girl raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, looking up at Yujin. “Are you good at everything? How come I didn’t know you could sing!”

Yujin knew she was blushing to the tips of her ears but she grinned anyways, shrugging her shoulders as she leaned back against the counter. “I’m not as good as you.”

“Yes you are. You know, you should be an idol, since you’ve got it all. The dancing and singing skills, the looks, the height-” Minju looked her up and down before quickly turning her attention back to the pizza pan. “-the charm. Everything.”

“You’re talking about looks as if you aren’t the prettiest girl in the world.” Oh god, she’d really said it. She was so comfortable with the older girl that the words just tumbled out on their own. Immediately, she snapped her mouth shut, but to her surprise, instead of being surprised or weirded out, Minju turned a pretty shade of pink and began to giggle, bringing her hands up to cover her face.

“You really think so?” Her voice was small and shy and Yujin nodded, her entire body full of electricity as her heart pounded in her chest once again.

“I do. You’re seriously the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” As if on cue, Daniel Ceasar’s “Best Part” started playing from Minju’s phone, making Yujin feel like the main character in a coming of age movie. Maybe she could get the girl after all. When Minju finally pulled her hands down, she was smiling the cutest little shy smile. She didn’t have dimples, but her face scrunched up a bit when she was shy, her eyes closing ever so slightly and her cheeks rising in a way that turned her from gorgeous to downright adorable in seconds.

“Thank you,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “Y-you’re really pretty too.” There was something electric in the air, something they could both feel sparking between the two of them, but it was a bit too much for Yujin’s poor gay heart. She felt light headed again, and apparently Minju felt the same, as she quickly busied herself starting the pizza instead of saying anything else. For a moment, the younger girl struggled to find something else to say, until Twice’s “Likey” started blasting over the speakers, making her laugh.

“We just changed moods so quickly,” she said, her voice teasing as the tension shattered with Minju’s laugh. The older girl reached over to playfully swat at her arm.

“Leave me alone! I love this song!”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Yujin grinned and hopped up onto the counter, making Minju gasp at her. “Hey I do too, I just wasn’t expecting it after Daniel Caesar.”

“Do your moms allow you to sit on the counter like that?”

“We aren’t using this one, so I can sit on it.” Yujin stuck out her tongue as she pulled out her phone and Minju huffed, but couldn’t wipe the smile from her lips.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

“I know, right? Anyway, who else do you listen to? Let’s jam out before Wonyoung gets home and insults us on our music taste.”

-

The pizza was amazing, even if the pepperonis were a little all over the place courtesy of Yujin. Wonyoung did, in fact, come home and immediately ask if she was watching her moms when she caught the two of them dancing to Red Velvet, but Yujin couldn’t even be mad, not after she’d had so much fun with her dream girl all day long. And especially not after Minju sat down across from her at the table and rested her ankle against Yujin’s, leaving the younger girl a bit breathless for the rest of the meal. If her sister noticed that she was unnaturally quiet, she didn’t say anything.

-

Somehow, even though it was only the second time they’d watched TV together, they ended up side by side as if it was natural, their legs pressed together and Minju’s head already resting on Yujin’s shoulder as the younger girl flipped through Netflix. Wonyoung walked in, took one look at the two of them, and immediately shook her head.

“Nope, I’m gonna watch TV in my room tonight. Have fun.” With that, she turned and skipped up the stairs with her bowl of popcorn, leaving the two older girls to look at each other and laugh.

“Well, at least we can choose what we want to watch now, right?” Yujin asked, and Minju smiled, reaching over to hold Yujin’s hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“It looks like we’ve got the whole night to ourselves.”

-

They didn’t talk much, because they didn’t have to. Occasionally Yujin would make fun of something on screen to make Minju laugh, and sometimes Minju would bury her head in Yujin’s shoulder when a particularly embarrassing scene came on, giggling and saying she hated it, but for most of the night they stayed quiet, enjoying each other’s company in the almost silence. It was cosy, yet overlaid with a thick tension; the tension that had been growing with every glance, every touch, and every interaction they’d had since the first day Yujin walked in to see her standing in her living room.

In all honesty, Yujin had no idea what was happening on screen between the two leads. She’d lost interest after the second episode, when Minju started rubbing her thumb over the skin on the back of her hand. She couldn’t think of anything other than the older girl, that floral perfume overwhelming her senses and pulling her deeper into Minju’s touch. So she wasn’t sure what episode they were on when Minju pulled away slightly, looking up at her with so much affection and want that Yujin wondered if she’d ascended to heaven. All she knew was that it was dark outside, the lights were dim, and she couldn’t take her eyes off Minju’s pink lips.

They didn’t talk, because they didn’t need to. All Minju had to do was lean in and let her eyes flutter closed, and immediately Yujin knew they both wanted the same thing. So she went for it, leaning in and finally pressing her lips to Minju’s like she’d wanted to for so long.

Yujin had kissed girls before. But none of those girls had ever made fireworks explode in her chest like Minju did. As soon as their lips connected, Minju reached up to wrap her arms around Yujin’s shoulders, pulling her even closer and making Yujin’s head spin because her lips were just as soft as they looked. The younger girl’s hands moved on their own, one cupping her face while the other one rested on her hip, grounding Yujin so that she didn’t float away from the pure euphoria flowing through her veins.

She was kissing the prettiest girl in the world, and more importantly, the prettiest girl in the world was kissing her back. And she knew she wasn’t dreaming, because none of her dreams had ever been this good.

When she finally pulled away, reluctant but needing to breathe, she drank in the sight of Minju before her, breathless and pink and glowing even in the dim light of the TV.

“Well,” the older girl said with a soft smile, “that was something.”

“Yeah,” she responded, breathless and grinning like a fool. “It was. Can we do it again?”

“Yes, please.”

-

That night, Yujin could hardly sleep, her heart refusing to stop skipping and pounding. She could still feel Minju’s lips against her own, and she replayed the quick kiss Minju had given her before telling her goodnight over and over in her head. They hadn’t said anything, though.

For a long time, she laid awake, remembering the taste of Minju’s lips and staring up at the ceiling, wondering why she hadn’t asked Minju to be hers right then and there.

-

Once again, Yujin woke up to the smell of breakfast. This time, she wasted no time washing up, checking her hair in the mirror before glancing at the mirror. How long did she have before her moms got back? She wasn’t sure, so she quickly put on her nice purple hoodie and a pair of jeans before rushing down into the kitchen in the most casual way she could.

Minju was at the oven, humming to Day6 as she flipped her omelet, and when she saw Yujin, she smiled, her face slightly pink. “Good morning. You didn’t scare me this time.”

“I made a bit more noise so I wouldn’t.” The younger girl ran a hand through her hair as she smiled back, trying to ignore the nerves building in her stomach. Why was being gay and in love so hard? “So, um, I-.”

“Oh that smells good!” Wonyoung turned the corner with a grin, completely interrupting them, and Yujin sighed, stepping back so that she could get her food. Why did her younger sister always come in at the worst times? As the Wonyoung picked up her plate and walked away, Minju looked at Yujin expectantly, her face open and hopeful. Swallowing, she glanced at her younger sister at the table before deciding “screw it” and turning back to grab one of Minju’s hands.

“I wanted to tell you that I like you a lot, and um, to ask you if you want to be my girlfriend.” There, she finally got the words out. Behind her, Wonyoung gasped, but she ignored her, focusing all of her attention on Minju and watching with bated breath as the older girl began to smile widely.

“I like you a lot too, and I’d love to be your girlfriend.” Minju squeezed her hand, and Yujin knew that she was blushing and grinning like crazy, but for once, she didn’t care if it was embarrassing or not. She was much too happy to care, because her heart was fluttering in her chest and electric excitement was flowing through her veins and a giddy squeal was catching in her throat because the prettiest girl in the world had just said that she liked her too.

“Woah,” was all she could say before both of them burst into laughter, leaning into each other. When she was able to breathe properly again, she grinned at Minju and squeezed her hand in return. “I’m glad you said yes.”

“I kissed you last night and you really thought I’d say no?”

Wonyoung gasped again. “You guys kissed?”

Yujin did her best to ignore her sister as she shrugged her shoulders sheepishly. “I thought it might be a possibility.”

“You’re dumber than I thought.”

“Hey!”

“It’s cute, though.” Minju giggled and reached over to pat Yujin’s cheek. “It’s really cute.”

“Can you guys not do this while I’m trying to eat?” Wonyoung whined, finally forcing the two girls to look at her. “I’m losing my appetite.”

“You’ll understand when you get older, Wonyo,” Yujin replied, making her little sister huff and stand from her chair, grabbing her plate.

“Whatever. I’m going to eat in my room. Try not to be too gross before our moms get home.” Wonyoung stuck her tongue out at them as she left, stalking away, but they both just laughed. They still hadn’t stopped holding hands, and Yujin never wanted to.

“Anyway,” she said, turning back to her girlfriend (just the word was enough to send butterflies flying through her stomach). “Want to get lunch with me tomorrow?”

Minju gave her an amused smile, raising her eyebrows. “Aren’t you going to ask for my phone number?”

“Oh right. I might need that.” Yujin quickly pulled out her phone, then raised her eyebrows in return. “Wait, was that a no?”

“No, silly. I was just thinking that you might need my phone number if we’re going to be girlfriends.” Minju typed in her number, then watched as Yujin finished the contact information, giggling as the younger girl erased the simple “Minju” she’d put in and replaced it with “prettiest girl in the world” before saving it. In response, she deleted the simple “Yujin” in her phone and put in “coolest girl in the world” instead, making Yujin grin.

“You think I’m cool?”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Point taken.” She glanced at the clock. “My moms will be home soon. What time were you going to leave.”

“Soon.” The older girl pouted slightly, looking down at the two plated omelettes forgotten on the counter. “We only have time to eat before I have to go.”

“Oh.” Yujin stepped a bit closer, her eyes hopeful and her lips in a soft smile. “Then do I not have time to kiss you once more before you go?”

Minju’s face lit up with her smile as she giggled and leaned in. “I think we can make time for one more.”

-

Minju ended up leaving before Chaeyeon and Sakura got home, something that Yujin was thankful for, since she could walk Minju out and hold her hand without her moms around to ask any annoying questions.

“I had fun this weekend,” the older girl said as they reached her car. Her smile was sweet as she swung their intertwined hands. “More fun than I thought I was going to have, that’s for sure.”

Her comment made Yujin laugh, big and genuine. “No kidding, I thought this weekend was going to be terrible,” she said truthfully, “but it ended up being one of the best weekends of my life. So maybe getting a babysitter wasn’t too bad.”

“Don’t let your moms hear you,” Minju teased, and the younger girl pretended to be scandalized.

“I would never!”

Both of them laughed before standing still for a moment, gazing at each other in the driveway, both reluctant to let go until Minju sighed.

“Well, I guess I have to go now.”

“Yeah.” Yujin gave her hand one final squeeze before letting it go. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The younger girl stepped back, waiting until Minju had started her car to wave. When the older girl smiled and waved back, she blew her a kiss, smiling in satisfaction when she laughed and caught it before beginning to back away. Yujin watched her drive away then, waving until her car had disappeared around the corner before she let her hand drop and began to grin.

This weekend had really just happened. She was now dating Kim Minju.

With a squeal, she pulled out her phone and ran back inside. She couldn’t wait to tell Nako all about it.

-

To “the prettiest girl in the world”:

Wonyoung told on us😠

From “the prettiest girl in the world”:

What? But we didn’t do anything?

To “the prettiest girl in the world”:

She told my moms that we were flirting the entire time and that we kissed and now they WON’T SHUT UP

Save me pls

From “the prettiest girl in the world”:

Oh😳

Does this mean I can’t babysit you anymore?

To “the prettiest girl in the world”:

Actually the opposite, they’re saying that they should leave for the weekend again. Apparently they thought I was never going to get a girlfriend?? I’m offended.

From “the prettiest girl in the world”:

I mean I can’t argue with them

ABOUT THE BABYSITTING THING, NOT THE YOU NEVER GETTING A GIRLFRIEND THING

To “the prettiest girl in the world”:

LMAO

I’d let you babysit me anytime cutie 😉

From “the prettiest girl in the world”:

Has anyone ever told you that you’re kind of annoying?

To “the prettiest girl in the world”:

All the time. It’s my charm. You’ll see tomorrow.

From “the prettiest girl in the world”:

You’re lucky you’re so cute

To “the prettiest girl in the world”:

😘

But seriously please save me they won’t stop asking me when the wedding is

Minju. Pls.

Come back I won’t be annoying anymore!

Is this payback?

From “the prettiest girl in the world”:

Maybe

😘

To "the prettiest girl in the world":

Wow I can't believe I thought you were sweet

From "the prettiest girl in the world":

😇

[jewish-space-laser]

Stand Back

Wow! I’ve only been back for a few hours, and there’s already been so, so much support. I missed you all. This piece is one of my favorites, inspired by my R&RHoF excitement last winter. My dear friend, @for-fucks-sake-h​ beta’d this for me, and I loved her then and I love her now! Thank you all for believing in me! If you enjoy this story, shoot me some feedback :) 7.5k words

xoxo Tile

“Harry, c’mon!” Millie whined, tugging at his sleeve when he didn’t bother looking away from the TV. “This isn’t fair and you know it!”

“Millie, fuck’s sake, I already told you that it’s just not possible,” He rolled his eyes, reluctantly looking over at his puppy-dog-eyed best friend. She’d been pestering him for the better part of the afternoon, and he was beginning to get frustrated. She was definitely going to ruin his surprise.

“I just don’t understand,” she pouted, “I’m the one who got you into Stevie’s music in the first place, maybe I should be the one inducting her next week.”

“Yeah, you can do the performance bit, too,” he chuckled, “I’m sure the audience would love to hear your off-pitch, dying-cat screeches. Stevie would love it, too. Instant record deal- oof!”

The pillow hit his stomach with more force than he had expected, but it did nothing to wipe the shit-eating grin off of his face. Millie whacked him on the thigh, and then once more for good measure, before chucking his throw pillow – her makeshift weapon – across the room.

“I didn’t want to see your performance anyway,” she grumbled, “you’ll probably sing Edge of Seventeen, because you’re too basic to sing anything else, and I’ve already seen you perform that one.”

Harry smirked at the memory. They had been fifteen, almost sixteen, and Millie had managed to smuggle a few bottles of cider from her father’s ‘special fridge’ in the garage. Harry had climbed the tree outside her window for the umpteenth time, and the two of them had spent the entire night looking up youtube videos of their favorite rock singers, their virgin livers drunk off of just a few sips of alcohol.

“The 1983 performance was better,” Harry argued, throwing his hands up in outrage.

“You’re taking the piss,” Millie scoffed, swatting his hand away from her laptop, “The 1981 performance is clearly better. Her dance moves are absolutely insane, and the audio quality is better.”

“Her dance moves are mediocre at best in this one,” Harry stated, nodding his head to the guitar beat anyway, “anyone could replicate those.”

“I’d like to see you try!” Millie challenged. The duo regarded each other for a long moment, waiting for the other to back down, and completely oblivious to the hearts in their eyes, still too young to understand what they were feeling.

“Alright then,” Harry giggled, standing up on her bed, obnoxiously singing along to the music blaring from her laptop. He tried to imitate Stevie’s high kicks, the bounce in her step, and swung his arms around as if he were draped in the singer’s white shawl. Millie couldn’t fight the peals of laughter that bubbled up in her throat. He looked completely absurd.

“Just like the white-winged dove!” Millie sang, hopping up on her bed to join Harry.

The two of them bounced until the song was almost over, their voices riddled with gasps and coughs as they tried to catch their breath. The fun had ended abruptly, with Millie’s mother swinging the door open, asking the two red-faced teenagers if they knew that it was past midnight.

“First of all, that was a great performance,” Harry teased, appreciating the way Millie’s eyes softened as she too reminisced their teenage years. She’d always been a sucker for happy memories, and Harry had quickly learned that they were the best way to calm her down or change the subject. Most of her happy memories included him, anyway. “Second of all, this time around, you won’t be grounded for a week.”

“Yeah, because you won’t let me be there!”

“Millie, I told you, I promised Gemma I would bring her along and I only get to have one guest,” he lied, “she’s my sister, I couldn’t say no.”

“You say no to her all the time, in fact, you love saying no to her,” she pointed out, “plus, I’m kind of like your sister. We’ve known each other just as long.”

Harry felt his heart plummet into the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t the first time she had said something along those lines, brother and sister, but it still hurt. He was beginning to think that she would never feel the same way about him that he did about her.

It was a curse, really. He had the world falling at his feet, enough girls were interested in him, and he was successful. But it didn’t matter, did it? Not when the only person he wanted thought of him like a brother.

“Right, yeah,” he cleared his throat. He quickly stood up, mumbling something about getting them more tea, but really he just wanted to hide the burn of tears behind his eyelids. When he came back, Millie was squinting at the screen of her laptop, hunching over so her face was inches from the screen.

“I’m buying my own damn ticket,” she informed him.

Fuck, he thought.

“Okay, okay, stop,” he groaned, closing her laptop. Millie’s hands were still suspended in front of her, poised to type when he shut the computer in her lap. “It was supposed to be a surprise, but there’s a front row seat at the Hall of Fame with your name on it.”

“I KNEW IT!” She cried, shoving the laptop off of her legs and throwing her arms around his neck. “I knew you wouldn’t just leave me behind!”

Harry melted into the hug, winding his arms around her shoulders and back and subtly inhaling as he pressed his nose into her hair. She was practically vibrating with excitement, which made him grin with pride. It may not have been the surprise he had planned, but it was certainly the reaction he’d been expecting.

“You were making it really hard to lie to you,” he admitted, tugging her back when she tried to step out of their embrace. He wasn’t quite ready to let go of her yet. “I was going to tell you tomorrow at dinner, had a whole plan.”

“I’d say I’m sorry for forcing it out of you, but I’m not sorry in the slightest!” She wiggled out of his arms, successfully this time, and gave him a look of pure happiness that made his insides turn to putty. “Does this mean you’ll tell me what song you’re performing?”

Harry snickered, batting her hands away when she went to pinch his arm. He wasn’t about to reveal all of his surprises.

“Not a chance!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh my god, turn this up!” Millie squealed, already reaching over to twist the volume knob on the dashboard.

“Oi!” Harry snapped, swatting her hand away with a steely glare. “What did I just tell you about touching m’ new car?”

“You told me not to make fingerprints on the window,” Millie crossed her arms over her chest, “you never said I couldn’t touch the radio.”

“It was implied,” Harry said through gritted teeth. Normally, Millie’s stubbornness was oddly charming, but today she was truly getting on his last nerve.

Harry had finally saved up enough money for a new car. Grueling ten-hour bakery shifts, babysitting jobs, yardwork, any penny he could get his hands on, had all finally been worth it. He didn’t technically have his license yet, since he was only sixteen, but nobody really paid attention once you got out into the country. Most kids knew how to drive anyway, one of the benefits of growing up in small English farmtown.

The car, which he had bought off of a classmate’s older brother, was a complete piece of shit, but that didn’t stop Harry from polishing every last surface, inside and out. It was a Mustang, and even though the front bumper was dented and it had chips in the paint, it was his pride and joy. He’d overheard a group of girls talking about how sexy it was that Brad Hannagan, his lab partner, had gotten a car. Apparently, he’d taken Allison Fishman to the next town over for dinner, and then they made out in his front seat. Harry wanted his car to be sexy, too.

There was really only one girl he wanted to impress though, and she was currently spilling granola bar crumbs onto his leather seats.

“Millie!” He whined. “You’re getting everything all messy!”

“You’re being so anal, H,” she had just shoved the rest of her bar into her mouth, so her voice came out muffled and garbled, “this is supposed to be fun! Our first ride together in your new car.”

“It is rather special, huh,” Harry nodded thoughtfully, “how do I look in the driver’s seat?”

“Honestly?” She raised an eyebrow. “You look… kinda hot. But do not let that go to your head or else I’ll - ohmygod! Harry, seriously turn it up, it’s Stevie Nicks!”

This time, he didn’t complain when Millie reached over and pressed three different buttons on his dashboard, because the girl he liked thought he was attractive, his windows were rolled all the way down, and the chorus of Stand Back was blaring through his speakers.

This feeling was worth every window smudge, crumb on his seat, and unwelcome dashboard push, he thought. Especially if it meant seeing Millie like this: long hair blowing out the window, head thrown back with her eyes closed, and feet tapping along to her favorite song.

It was a miracle he could keep his eyes on the road.

Harry was going to sing Stand Back. He knew it, Stevie knew it, almost the entire crew backstage knew it, but Millie was still in the dark. It was her favorite song, and he had every intention of putting on a show for her.

He was already dressed in his suit. He’d chosen another custom-made Gucci, a deep matte black fabric with metallic bronze flowers twisting up his torso and down his legs. He’d even let the makeup artist apply some matching bronze eyeshadow to his face, something he’d always wanted to try out. His shoes were plain, black with a bit of a lifted heel, and his only other accessory was a bronze colored tambourine. This was a Stevie Nicks tribute, after all, it wouldn’t be complete without her signature instrument.

The moment he stepped on stage, he knew his outfit choice was a hit. He hadn’t even started his speech before the familiar screaming started, but he’d grown used to the high pitched noise.

He hadn’t been able to meet with Millie beforehand, but it was hard to look away from her now (not that keeping his eyes off of her had ever been easy for him). She was sitting in the front row with a proud smile on her face, and a sinfully tight silver dress on her body, and Jesus Christ she looked incredible. He gave her a lopsided smirk before squinting his eyes into the lights over the audience.

The moment the first notes of the song echoed from the speakers lining the walls, Millie’s jaw dropped lower than Harry had ever seen. He smirked at her, licking his lips cockily as he started bobbing his head. The cheers from the crowd only spurred him on. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, never looking away from his best friend.

“No one looks, I walk by, just an invitation would have been just fine,” he crooned, unable to stop himself from tapping his feet to the rhythm.

He’d opted out of playing the guitar during the performance, wanting to focus more on his vocals. He tore his eyes away from Millie, who was still watching him in awe. This song was for her, but there was still an entire venue crowded with thousands of people, and this was the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. He’d rather fling himself from the Empire State Building than give a poor performance.

“Stand back, stand back,” he ripped the mic from its stand, prancing across the stage and flipping the hair out of his eyes with a dramatic snap of his neck, “in the middle of my room, I did not, hear from you….”

“La la la la la la la, la la,” he closed his eyes as he turned his back to the crowd, seeing the bright bronze and burnt orange visuals on the screen through his eyelids.

He knew he absolutely killed the performance, if the whoops and hollers were any indication. He could hear the cheers, see people dancing, see her dancing. She seemed to have befriended the woman next to her, as they were both shouting out the lyrics along with him with their hips bumping.

“Take me home….” Harry belted, his voice turning grainy the longer he held the note. When the music finally faded out, he let out a low chuckle into the microphone, relieved to have done the song justice.

It took several minutes for the applause to die down enough for him to speak, and by the time it did, he had no idea what to say.

“Ehm, hello New York!” He called into the microphone, clearing his throat. “It’s an honor to be here.”

Writing a speech about Stevie was the easiest thing he’d ever done. All he had to do was be honest, after all; she was an inspiration, a legend. The definition of a powerful woman. The kind of person who supports young struggling artists, can whip out a killer song in less than an hour, who dedicates her life to bringing melody and emotion to her fans. A poet. A magician.

Giving the speech was another story. The sweat on his back was making the fabric of his undershirt stick to his skin in the most suffocating manner, and Millie’s burning stare had all but caused his brain to short circuit. She’d looked at him like that just once before. He thought about it often, usually when he was alone with his hands shoved between his thighs.

Millie was four drinks in.

Harry knew this because he’d been counting. He had gone to enough parties with her to know that she got a bit… loose once she’d had a few, and he’d taken it upon himself to keep her away from every man who dared look in her direction.

“Stop shooting daggers at everyone, H,” she’d complained, “I wanna dance with someone, but you’re scaring them off. They probably think you’re my boyfriend.”

Good, he’d thought.

“Mills, the men here look sleazy as fuck,” he’d said sternly, “I’m not letting you rub yourself all over some chav.”

“Well, I need to rub myself all over someone, or I swear I’ll lose my mind,” she giggled, her eyelids more hooded than usual as she leaned up against the bar, “you know how I get when I drink.”

Maybe he wouldn’t have normally responded in the way that he did, but he’d had a few to drink himself. The words were pouring out of him before he could stop them, his filter broken down by the whisky double he’d choked down earlier.

“Y’could dance on me.”

Millie hummed, slowly raking her eyes over him from his shoes to the stray curl on his forehead. Instead of giving him an answer, she leaned over the bar to whisper something to the bartender.

He wanted to kick himself. She’d said it time and time again: he was like a brother to her. He started running excuses through his head, things he could say to break the tension and make her forget that he’d ever uttered the words.

“Now that’s an idea,” she finally said, carelessly dropping a bill onto the counter beside her. Harry raised his eyebrows, shocked. When the shots she ordered appeared by her elbow, she slid one over to Harry wordlessly. He took it without hesitation, the burn of tequila tickling his lips long after the bitter taste faded away.

“A good idea?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. “Or a bad one?”

She had never looked at him like this before. Harry had long ago memorized every facial expression she’d ever thrown at him, and prided himself in being able to read her like a book, but this was brand new territory. Her eyes, which were normally bright enough to blind him, had darkened. She was looking at him like she could see right through his clothes… like maybe she wanted to see right through his clothes.

“Why don’t we find out?”

It had taken him weeks to stop dreaming about the way Millie’s ass had felt pressed against him, or how dewy her skin had felt as he ran his hands over it, but now it was all rushing back. Not even the bright spotlight could disguise the fire in her eyes. She wanted him.

But he couldn’t think about that night at the club, not unless he wanted to pop a boner in front of thousands of attentive onlookers. He delivered his speech perfectly, but on the inside his stomach was twisting and tangling into knots, and he hadn’t been able to look at Millie throughout the entire thing.

The rest was a blur. The deafening roar of applause as Stevie came on. The brief hug he shared with her as he passed the microphone to her. The hand he placed on the older woman’s back while a video montage played on the giant screen. More applause. Millie’s eyes.

By the time he made it offstage, all he wanted to do was shove his hand down the front of his trousers, but he still had one more surprise he had to follow through with. With his back pressed against the wall and a twitching hand on his stomach, he took a few deep, heavy breaths. He needed to calm the fuck down, or he was going to blow his load the moment he saw her in that dress.

“Shit,” he exhaled, closing his eyes.

He wasn’t near as composed as he wanted to be, but one of his security guards would be leading Millie backstage any second. He’d arranged for her to meet Stevie, something he knew she’d been wanting since they were children.

“Harry!”

He looked over to see his best friend galloping towards him, his frazzled looking security guard trailing after her.

“Sorry we’re late,” the man apologized, adjusting the walkie-talkie that was clipped to his belt, “she ran ahead and went the wrong way, so we had to backtrack and ended up getting lost.”

“That sounds about right- oof!” Millie clearly hadn’t pumped the brakes, barreling straight into him. If he hadn’t been against the wall, the two of them would have ended up on the floor. “You can take the rest of the night off, Dave.”

His guard didn’t argue, quickly spinning on his heel and leaving the pair to themselves. She’d glued herself to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his waist as she swayed them back and forth.

“Missed you,” she mumbled.

“Just saw you last week, Mills.”

“Yeah, too long,” she nodded. Harry liked the way the tip of her nose rubbed against his dress shirt.

He chuckled fondly, gently easing her back with his hands on her shoulders. “How’d you like my song?”

“H, I can’t even describe how incredible it was. Like… I’ll be honest,” she blushed, “you looked… kind of hot. But do not let that go to your head, or else I’ll chop off your bollocks.”

Suddenly, he was fifteen again, bouncing all over her bed and getting her in trouble. He was sixteen, preening as Millie complimented him from the passenger’s seat. He was twenty-two, filled with euphoria as they moved on the dance floor. He was twenty-five, looking at her silver dress and feeling the overwhelming need to kiss her.

She was peering up at him like she might want him to, wide eyes and tiny smile, but one glance over her shoulder told him that there were more important things on the agenda. Stevie was walking towards them slowly, her ridiculously tall heels causing her to teeter with each step she took.

“Don’t kill me,” Harry said quickly, “I have one more surprise.”

“Harry, what- OHMYGOD!”

Millie had thrown her hands over her face, cupping them against her mouth and nose. The moment Stevie came into her view, tears burned at the corners of her eyes and a few fell down her cheeks.

“Oh my,” Stevie cooed, stepping close and placing her hands on the younger girl’s elbows, “I know Harry’s a handful, but there’s no need to cry!”

“Heeeey,” he whined, but it fell on deaf ears.

He stood to the side and watched his best friend tell her idol about all of the amazing memories she had with her music. She told Stevie about the first time she played Landslide at her fourth grade piano recital, how she’d listened Edge of Seventeen on repeat for hours on her last night of being sixteen, how she’d written an essay about Leather and Lace for her creative writing class at uni. Millie’s hands were flying all over the place, clutching at her chest, in the air above her head, wound around Stevie in a secure hug. He’d done this for her, and there was no better feeling.

“Harry talks about you constantly,” Stevie smiled. Harry widened his eyes at her.

“Oh he does, does he?” Millie pursed her lips teasingly. “Hopefully nothing too horrible.”

“On the contrary,” Stevie’s eyes twinkled mischievously. Harry shook his head subtly. He’d given her a long and detailed monologue of his feelings for Millie during a particularly vulnerable songwriting session, but they had never mentioned it again. “He’s said only good things. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

Harry’s chest deflated with relief. He was going to send a very long, scolding text to Stevie later on this week.

When it was time to part ways, Harry left the two women alone to say their goodbyes while he made sure there was a car for him and Millie. They’d arranged for her to stay in his guest room, and all of her bags were already there. By the time she was walking over to him, mascara streaking down her face and a sad little smile on her lips, he was ready to have her all to himself.

“How’d I do?” He grinned, scooping her into his arms as she let out a shaky sob.

“I’m,” she let out a hiccup, “so happy!”

“Oh, Mills,” he cooed, rubbing a hand over her shoulder blade, “let’s go home, yeah? I can make you some tea?”

“Mhm,” she whimpered.

The pair began walking towards the back exit, clinging to each other. It made it harder to walk, being pressed together so tightly, but the thought of letting go didn’t sit well them them .

“My emotional Millie,” he hummed, “always so teary.”

“Shut up, Harry!” She cried as she slid into the car. He quickly followed, watching her buckle herself in and kick off her heels. “I can’t help it!”

“Didn’t mean it as an insult, babe,” the term of endearment slipped out before he could stop it, “means you’ve got a big heart. It’s sweet.”

“If anyone in this car is sweet, it’s you,” she sighed, “first, you fly me here all the way from London. Then, you perform my favorite song, and then you introduce me to Stevie Nicks… my absolute, complete, legendary-“

“It was nothing,” he said quietly, knowing that she’d never stop unless he cut her off. Millie scoffed, but he was telling the truth. He’d do anything for her, and if it made her happy, it didn’t feel like a chore.

“Nothing my arse.”

Millie had felt like she was high from all of the excitement, but the way Harry was looking at her was sobering. Despite the sharpness of his cheekbones and the hard line of his jaw, he looked soft, the pine green of his eyes turning to velvet.

“Why are you looking at me… like that?” She asked softly.

“Like what?” He mimicked the tone of her voice.

“Like…” she paused, gulping against a dry throat, “like you’re thinking about kissing me?”

“I am thinking about it,” he admitted, “I’m constantly thinking about it.”

She didn’t say a word, turning her head away and staring out the window. With anyone else, he would have been offended, but Millie was a deep thinker. She always took a bit longer to process things, lost in her own head. He twiddled his thumbs as they sat in silence for the rest of the drive.

He knew he couldn’t take it back. He probably shouldn’t have said it in the first place, but it was as if everything he loved about Millie had been amplified tonight. Hell, he’d just inducted a rock legend into the Hall of Fame, and all he thought about all night was her. She was in his head, in his heart, running through his veins, completely ransacking any rational thought he might have.

When the car stopped in front of his building, Millie was swinging her door open and marching across the lawn before he’d even gotten himself unbuckled. He quickly thanked the driver, scurrying after her like a madman, making sure to grab her forgotten heels before the car rolled away.

She had already walked into his apartment building, using the little fob he’d given her when he started renting in New York. His two level loft had an entrance on the first level, which is where he found her standing when he finally caught up. She was tapping one foot impatiently at his locked door.

“Mills….” he cleared his throat as he dug the house keys from his pocket, “I didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t mean it?” She hissed.

“No, no,” he rushed, “I meant it. I just, I didn’t mean to make things weird.”

Once again, he was met with no response. Millie pushed the door open as soon as it was unlocked, and he could hear her stomping up the stairs. He sighed, fighting the pinprick of tears that threatened to form.

Harry didn’t know why she was reacting this way. Sure, she’d told him just last week that she was like a sister to him, but the way she’d undressed him with her eyes earlier had given him some hope. Maybe he’d just imagined it, conjured it up in his head to cope with his desperate need for her.

As much as he wanted to follow her up the stairs, he knew it was a bad idea. She was angry with him, and he couldn’t figure out why, but leaving her alone to simmer down had always been the best course of action.

“Harry, what the fuck!”

Harry’s eyes widened. This was his first day back to school after missing an entire week, and he realized with horror that he’d forgotten to text Millie about breaking his leg.

“You just vanish for an entire week, and then you show up to homeroom with… with bloody crutches?”

“‘M sorry,” he ducked his head, “I fell off my bike last weekend, and we had to stay in Manchester for a bit to get everything settled. I swear I didn’t mean to worry you-”

“Worry me,” his friend rolled her eyes. They were only thirteen years old, but Millie was more terrifying than most adults when she was well and truly angry. “Understatement of the century. I went by your house, and nearly organized a search party when nobody was home! Have you even checked your phone?”

He hadn’t.

“You know what? If not texting me is so easy, why don’t we just never speak again?”

“Mills,” he groaned, voice cracking slightly. They’d both noticed that his voice was starting to get a little bit deeper, and normally she’d tease the hell out of him for a voice crack like that, but she wasn’t in the mood. “I said I was sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t change how scared I was when you didn’t answer me!” She huffed, storming off. Just as he went to follow her, the bell rung, meaning he was already going to be late. With an irritated moan, he hobbled his way to his first class, hoping to god his teacher would let his tardiness slide when she saw his crutches.

She had, and later that night, Millie’s flailing pre-teen limbs fell through his bedroom window, eyes filling with tears and apologies leaking from her mouth.

“I thought about it all day, and once I calmed down… I just missed you.”

He chugged an entire glass of water before slamming it on his counter, taking a deep breath. His ears perked up at the sound of footsteps in his hallway, so he turned around to look at her. She was still in her dress, but had wiped off her makeup. He swears she’d never looked more beautiful.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” she said sheepishly.

“I’m sorry for-”

“No,” she gulped, “you don’t owe me any apologies. I was just… surprised.”

Harry nodded, not knowing what to say. He watched his feet, wiggling his toes awkwardly as an uncomfortable silence fell over them. Millie was shuffling around as well, debating whether or not she wanted to ask the question she’d been wanting to ask for years. Eventually, she couldn’t contain it anymore.

“How long have you been in love with me?”

Her voice was loud, but the volume isn’t what startled Harry. Sure, Millie had always been straightforward, fearless when it came to confrontation, but they’d never had a conversation like this. People had teased them as kids, telling them that boys and girls couldn’t be just friends, but they’d let the comments roll off of their backs.

“I… I-” he stuttered, his tongue suddenly feeling like an anvil in his mouth.

“You… don’t hide it well,” she divulged, looking at anything but him, “you’ve always been like an open book to me.”

“I’ve… yeah,” he choked out, “I, um, most of my life, I think.”

She started crying, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. He wanted to go over and hold her, like he usually did when she cried, but it was as if he was stepping into cement, absolutely rooted where he stood.

“Most of your life,” she echoed.

Harry rubbed a hand over his face, his skin feverish and beginning to bead with sweat. He needed to get out of his suit.

“I- you, yeah,” he croaked, robotically moving across the room to slip his blazer over one of the kitchen chairs. His legs felt like jelly, as if he’d completely forgotten how to walk.

“H,” she whimpered, “why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Why didn’t you ever say that you knew?”

Millie sucked in a breath, fiddling with the sequins on her dress. “I wasn’t completely sure. I mean, I was pretty sure, but then you’d talk about going on dates with other people, or… just, I had my doubts. But then tonight….”

“I was pretty obvious tonight,” he chuckled humorlessly, clearing his throat and scratching at his jaw, “and I never told you because… well look at us. We’ve never been this uncomfortable around each other.”

“H-”

“There were a few times I almost told you,” he gulped, “but… the timing was never right. You’d be in a relationship, or I’d be out on tour. It never lined up.”

This time, when Millie let out a sob, Harry didn’t hesitate to tuck her under his arm.

“You’re such a wanker,” she bawled, pressing her forehead into the skin between his sparrow tattoos, “obviously I love you too.”

Harry couldn’t breath. Had his heart stopped beating? Was he alive? Maybe he was hallucinating. The girl he loved, his best friend, was currently pressing her entire body against him, and she apparently felt the same way he did.

“How long?”  He asked.

“Most of my life,” Millie giggled.

“Fuck,” Harry wept, licking the tears away from his lips, “we’ve wasted so much time. Could have been together ages ago.”

She looked up at his face with a watery smile. “We’re here now. Still wanna kiss me?”

Harry leaned down and mashed his lips to hers in one fluid motion, loving the way it felt to have her like this. Millie was pushing herself closer, the pressure of the kiss making them both smile. She tasted like salty teardrops and toothpaste, and he probably smelled like a gym locker after loping around the stage, but neither of them minded, completely captivated by the feeling of finally moving their mouths together.

Once the floodgates had been opened, there was no way of stopping it. What had been a sweet, almost innocent embrace, was suddenly rough and desperate. Their soft touches were now strong and unyielding, calculated movements gave way to impulse and speed. They were like a river breaking free of its dam; calm waters growing higher and stronger until the tension became too much, cracking the barrier and releasing every single pent up drop. They were white-capped waves, beautiful and chaotic as they crashed against each other.

“I’ve thought about this so many times,” Millie heaved, clenching her fist around the fabric of his shirt while he nipped at her jaw.

“‘Bout kissing me?”

“No, I mean, yes- oh!” She yelped, hissing through gritted teeth as Harry licked over the spot he’d bitten into her neck. “Yeah, b-but, also about what it would feel like to have sex with you.”

He’d been ignoring his semi since he walked off stage earlier in the night, but the moment she spoke, he could feel his cock chub up in his trousers, the blood rushing below his belt making him a bit dizzy.  

“Thought about that too,” he was hunched over as far as his back would allow, his craving to taste the skin below her collarbones much stronger than the strain on his spine.

“We should probably do it then, yeah?”

Harry moaned. He had been suppressing his inappropriate thoughts about the way she looked since the moment he saw her in the crowd, but now he could let them roam freely. He wanted to gather her hair into his fists, peel the dress off of her body, absolutely ruin her lipstick (he was a little bit disappointed that she’d wiped it off). He couldn’t wait to make his fantasy a reality.

“We probably should,” he agreed, pushing the strap of her dress down her arm, “only if you want.”

“Obviously I do, bloody bellend,” she said impatiently, undoing the buttons on his dress shirt, “god, this outfit was so sexy tonight. When you were singing, all I could think about was how bad I wanted you to fuck me.”

“I know,” Harry smirked, “saw the look on your face when I was done. Nearly got a boner during my speech.”

“The sex eyes can’t be tamed,” she shrugged, finally unfastening the last button under his navel. She tugged the material from the waistband of his trousers and pushed it off of his shoulders.

“Don’t want you to tame ‘em,” he growled, moving closer to her when the zipper of her dress snagged under his fingertips, “want you to keep the sex eyes on, and get this fucking dress off!”

When he finally got the zipper down, he practically ripped it away from her body, tugging it roughly over her hips and letting it fall to the floor in a crumpled heap. Millie didn’t even have time to step out of it before Harry was lifting her bridal style.

“Don’t you fucking dare drop me!” She shrieked, lightly swatting his shoulder when he set her down on top of his kitchen table.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Mills.”

She opened her mouth to tell him off again, but her train of thought completely derailed when he got on his knees and sucked her clit through her underwear. She couldn’t suppress her moans, especially as he swept the flimsy fabric to the side and really dug in, tongue licking over every bit of her and calloused fingers plucking at her clit.

Millie sighed feverishly. The rough texture of his fingers and the smooth wetness of his mouth felt practically angelic, while the sounds filling his kitchen were sinful. Wet pops of his lips and hollow slurps when he suctioned his cheeks in wre driving her hellishly insane.

“I can’t come like this,” she panted, “I want to see your face.”

He pulled off of her, leaving one last kitten-lick to her folds before rising to his feet. His lips were swollen and shiny as he undid the zip on his trousers, quickly stripping the bronze and black fabric from his legs. He pressed his erection against Millie’s sopping core, letting her soak into the fabric of his boxers. Everything was warm and wet and smooth, just like he’d always imagined.

“Let me fuck you,” he pleaded.

“Condom?” She asked, feeling her walls twitch as if they were trying to guide Harry’s cock inside on its own. “‘M not on the pill….”

“Right,” he swallowed harshly, “Okay, yeah. I’ve got to run upstairs and get one.”

“I’ll stay right here,” Millie promised, peeling her undergarments off the moment he was out of sight.

Whenever she pictured having sex with Harry, it was romantic; white sheets and fluffy pillows, a warm summer breeze, maybe even some scented candles and music. She certainly hadn’t imagined it happening on the hard wood of his kitchen table, but in a way, it was even more perfect.

Their friendship, their relationship was unique. They were two people who had spent the better parts of their lives dancing around each other, orbiting like two planets, feeling the weight of the gravity but never touching. It was only fitting that their first time together was unconventional.

Harry practically sprinted back into the kitchen, wincing at how cold the tile felt against his bare feet. However, he didn’t focus on that long, too distracted by the skin Millie had revealed in his absence.

She was laying down still, and her exposed breasts fell slightly to the sides, their undersides resting on top of her ribcage. She’d splayed her legs open upon seeing him, giving him his first unobstructed view of her heat.

“Christ,” he wheezed, “let me just….”

He ripped the condom package open with his teeth, slipping the clear latex from its confines and pinching it his fingers while he ripped his briefs from his body. He rolled it on slowly, almost teasingly, when he noticed Millie watching with an attentive gaze.

“Ready?” He hummed.

“Please, H,” she nodded, wiggling her hips in anticipation.

He gave her a breathtaking smile before pushing inside. She was so slick that he managed to push all the way in with one single stroke, causing Millie’s back to arch off of the table. Harry’s knees nearly gave out when she clenched around him, so he gripped her thighs and locked them around his hips to keep himself steady.

This had to be his favorite position.

From where he was standing, he could see the entire expanse of her body, laid out so prettily against his table. He could watch himself push in and out of her, seeing how his cock glistened with her wetness all the way down to the base, admire the way the flesh of her hips creased as they bent to accommodate him, watch her breasts bounce and jiggle with every thrust. If he leaned forward just the slightest amount, maybe he could even reach up to roll her nipples between his fingers.

Millie loved it, too. She liked the way Harry’s stomach muscles concave with each flex, the rapid snap of his hips affecting every nerve in his body. She absolutely loved watching a red flush creep up his chest and neck, the black ink of his tattoos standing out even more against the rosiness. Most of all, she liked watching his face. It was almost as if he didn’t know where he wanted to look most, his blown-out pupils flickering over every inch of her body.

The smell of sex wafted over them, sweet, sensual, and uniquely theirs. Their bodies were sticky with sweat as they slapped together, filling the loft with wet claps and breathy moans. It was raw, carnal, a complete release of the tension they’d been holding in for years.

When Millie was close, Harry dropped one of her legs to play with her clit, knowing that he’d find his release the second she found hers. Her lips were mouthing his name, but no sound came out. He watched, utterly bewitched, as her fingers curled into her palms and a strangled moan fell from her throat.

She gushed her release onto him, and he felt it drip down the fronts of his thighs as she tightened around his cock. He’d never made a woman squirt this much before. Profanities poured from his lips as he felt his balls clench, cumming into the condom with so much force that he had to bend over and rest his torso over hers to keep from falling over. His face was nuzzled into Millie’s breasts.

It was Harry who broke the silence after several minutes of shallow breathing. “Well, fuck, Mills.”

“Holy cow,” she coughed, “okay, first of all, I need some water, second, we’re doing that again immediately.”

He chuckled into her skin, nipping at her breast playfully before standing upright and looking between them. They’d made quite a mess of themselves, not that he minded.

Millie slid off the table, walking her shaky legs over to the sink, where she stuck her entire head under the faucet. Harry smiled to himself; seemingly, nothing had changed about their dynamic. He was afraid that professing his love for her might change the way they acted around each other, but she was just as silly as she’d always been.

“Millie, no! That’s so unsanitary,” a twenty-year-old Harry complained. Millie had just stuck her entire head into the unisex bathroom sink, chugging at the stream of water, “this is a karaoke bar, probably germs everywhere.”

“I was thirsty,” she informed him, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth, “and there’s only one more person in front of me. How am I supposed to sing Stevie Nicks with a dry throat?”

“How are you supposed to sing Stevie Nicks when your voice sounds like a police siren?” He countered with a smirk. His best friend crossed her arms over her chest in offense.

“We can’t all be professional singers, you knob,” she bit out, swinging the door open with more force than necessary. She’d only had a drink or two, but Harry drank enough to make the room spin.

“‘M not a knob,” he muttered to himself as he followed after her.

“You sure are!” Millie called over her shoulder.

When it was time for her to take the stage, Harry made sure that his seat was all the way up front and his phone camera was at the ready. Millie had always been a horrible singer, but that had never stopped her. He couldn’t wait to post the video to his private instagram in the morning.

“Stand back, stand back!” She screeched, flipping Harry the bird when he started laughing, “in the middle of my room, I did not, hear from you!”

Her hair was flopping all over the place, hips moving back and forth while she hopped up and down. He wished he’d gone up there with her, wanting to wrap an arm over her shoulder or put his hands on her waist.

“I would cry… la la la la la la la, la la….”

He was in a perpetual state of wanting to be near her. It felt like it was part of his identity at this point. His name was Harry, he had curly hair, he wore tight jeans, and he wanted to be touching Millie.

Twenty-five year old Harry wished he could go back in time and tell his younger self that he’d get to touch her, whenever he wanted and for however long he wanted. He’d held her close while they showered together, placed a hand on the small of her back while she sifted through his dresser for pajamas to wear, and had her sprawled over his chest while she slept in his arms.

He closed his eyes, a smile never leaving his face as he imagined having her at twenty-six, twenty-seven, thirty. Maybe even fifty, sixty, and seventy. Trips down memory lane are much more enjoyable when there’s a future.

And yeah, he thought, revelling in the tickle of her soft snores as they puffed into his skin, there was definitely going to be a future.

~~~

Thank you for reading, if you’ve made it this far! Leave me a message, I’d love to know your thoughts <3

xoxo Tile

[a-day-in-the-afterlife]

The Night Team Is Bad At Road Trips (Oneshot) (Fanfiction)

You can read it here on AO3.  I know that there's no "Hour 4" section. It's because I was too lazy to write it, and I figured the early hours when Nine drove, it was so peaceful that nothing interesting happened!

Title:

The Night Team Is Bad At Road Trips

Summary:

When the 14th Department Annual Retreat rolls around, the Manager, Nyang Lead Manager, and Sei Housemaster decide to turn the eight-hour drive to the retreat location into a road trip competition to encourage all Soul Reapers' attendance. The prize? No cleaning duties for a month.

And there is no way Nine is letting any of the other teams get even a glimpse at a prize that wonderous.

As the Night Team travels to the retreat location, he begins to realize ... maybe he is the only one is his team with a braincell.

Then again, maybe not.

Just some Noctu bonding.

Genre:

Slice of Life, Humor, Attempt at Humor, Fluff, Fluff and Humor

Rating:

T

Word Count:

6574

-

Hour 0

Our story begins inside the Noctu Team Dorm, in the bedroom of Nine and Day, where the human puppy of the two Soul Reapers ransacked the room in search of the last few belongings that he needed to pack for him and his team’s trip to the Purification Plains for the 14th Department Annual Retreat. 

The 14th Department Annual Retreat was a favorite of Nyang Lead Manager’s, as the destination point—the Purification Plains—was a place where all Soul Reapers could rest and relax and take time to remind themselves of the true meaning of Purifying vengeful spirits (of course, many suspected that the lake brimming with fish was actually the real allure for the fussy feline).  

He, Sei Housemaster, and the Manager had already gone ahead two days earlier to get things set up for the rest of the 14th Department, and, to encourage the Soul Reapers to attend the retreat as soon as possible, had set up the days prior to the actual event as a competition to see which Reaper Team could travel the eight hours to the Purification Plains the fastest.  The winning team was exempt from all Soul Reaper cleaning duties for an entire month. 

And oh, how Nine craved that one month of complete freedom.

Yet, he could feel a muscle in his left eye twitch, as he watched his roommate (who had decided that five minutes before their departure was the most opportune time to pack) scramble around the room for his remaining shirts and pants and hair ties and candy and snacks and pretty rocks and shiny beetles and mini elephant figurines and all manner of fidget toys to play with.  

Noctu was, by some stroke of misfortune, the last team to leave for the day (even Mane—who had Jamie, the supposed slowest Soul Reaper in all of existence—had left before them), and Nine could slowly feel his grip on the prospect of a month free from all cleaning duties slip away.

Day’s side of the room had always been a mess, and Nine loathed the day when Theo would get a glance at it, but he never bothered the lumbering Soul Reaper about it, because firstly, it was too much trouble, and secondly, even in all the chaos, Day seemed to know where everything was. 

Or so it had appeared.

“Nine-Nine, Nine-Nine, I can’t find my favorite jacket!”

“I believe it’s on top of your chair, Mr. Day.”

“Nine-Nine!  My hair ties are all gone!  Tachi-Tachi made them for me!  What am I going to do?”

“Are not the hair ties Aitachi gave you the ones on your wrist, Mr. Day?”

“Wow!  Can I show you the really sparkly flower I found under my bed, Nine-Nine?”

“Mr. Day, I promise I’ll look at it after you finish packing.”

And so it went for another five minutes before Day declared himself “ready for adventure.”  Nine breathed a sigh of relief as he and his roommate grabbed their respective luggage (although Day had offered to carry Nine’s seventeen suitcases for him because he only had one and was “stronger than Nine-Nine!”) and walked into the common space of the Noctu Team Dorm.  He prayed that he would find the tribesmen duo of Aitachi and Kirr, all packed and waiting for them, but unfortunately, that was too much to ask for, as the pair were nowhere in sight.

Before Nine could send Day to go out looking for them, however, out lumbered both Kirr and Aitachi from their bedroom, each with not a single suitcase in sight, but rather, massive messenger bags slung across their shoulders, Kirr’s made of leather, and Aitachi’s, merino.  

Kirr smiled at the two from across the dorm.  “Day, Nine, do not fear: Aitachi and I have packed emergency provisions enough for the both of you.”

“Brother Kirr is right,” replied Aitachi, nodding, and patting his bag.  “We will stave off our mighty foe, ‘Malnutrition,’ with all the food that we have!”

Nine shoved down the need to facepalm at the duo and in a composed voice, asked, “Do you two happen to have any clothes packed with all the emergency rations you have in your bags?”

Aitachi and Kirr exchanged confused glances, before the older of the two asked, “Why would we bring a change of clothes if we plan to wash and dry the ones we’re wearing right now in rivers as we blaze our trail to the Plains of Purification?”

“Kirr-Kirr, Tachi-Tachi, that’s so smart!” exclaimed Day, as he made motions to throw out from his own suitcase all his clothes, too.

Nine held a hand out to stop him and swallowed a sigh.  “Mr. Kirr, Aitachi, I think it would be greatly beneficial if you two brought several days change of clothes along with all this, as we won’t be doing trailblazing of any sort to the Purification Plains.”

“Oh, that’s right,” realized Day, sadly.  “Manager said that everyone is taking a ‘road trip’ there, and we’re supposed to be driving the car that the Department left for us.”

Nine wanted to laugh at the we’re supposed to be driving the car remark, because, due to the fact that he wanted to go on living, there was no way that he was going to let any of the other members of the Night Team drive their Department-sanctioned car.

It wasn’t that he liked driving or even particularly wanted to, but he was one hundred percent certain that up in the cold alpine regions that he had grown up in, the only thing that Kirr had ever driven was a pack of sled dogs; Aitachi was only fourteen and up until yesterday, had assumed that the entire party was to travel by way of horseback; and Day, who he treasured greatly, was … Day.  Nine was sure that in the entire time Day had been in the Otherworld, he had yet to pass his driver’s license test and was still patiently nursing his permit. 

But he didn’t have the heart to correct the well-meaning Soul Reaper and nodded.  “Mr. Day is right.  Our trip shouldn’t take us more than eight hours if we take the car, so you don’t have to worry about washing and drying your clothes on the way there, but you will definitely need a change of outfits when we get to the Retreat, unless … you want Mr. Theo and the other Soul Reapers to keep a twenty-mile radius from you.”

(Was it terrible of him to think that that wasn’t so horrible of a prospect?)

Aitachi valiantly declared, “Mr. Theo’s actions will have no effect on me!” but turned around to his room to pack some clothes, anyway, while Kirr slunk off after him, muttering under his breath, “How inconvenient.”

Nine groaned softly as he and Day followed the pair, because frankly, while Aitachi—who liked to sew his own clothes—had something that resembled style, Kirr believed clothes were simply a troublesome necessity; he didn’t even own anything nicely colored or patterned (“In the forest, it is best for a hunter to wear dark, solid colors to blend in with their surroundings”) and had absolutely no fashion sense at all.  And as Nine, who had an appreciation for beauty, refused to let one of his teammates be the bane of anyone with eyes, he felt it his obligation to now ensure that Kirr did not pack everything in the realm of beiges, blacks, and whites for the Retreat.

After several minutes of sorting through Kirr’s clothes and wondering how every item managed to smell so strongly of pine and bramble, Nine deemed the Night Team ready to take on the open road of the Otherworld.  

He herded the group outside of the Department building and toward a clunky black minivan that looked nearly five hundred and thirty-seven SRE years old (he knew the 14th Department was cheap, but really?).  

Nine bit back a laugh when he saw Day carefully arranging his lanky arms and legs into the driver’s seat.

“Mr. Day, I believe it would be best if I did all the driving.”

Day looked surprised.  “Nine-Nine, that’s not fair to you.  We need to take turns!”

“Brother Day is right!  As warriors, we must all learn to share the burden,” said Aitachi.

Kirr nodded gravely.  “It’s not possible for one hunter to take up all the shifts in a single season and succeed.”

Nine didn’t know what to say to that, but as he definitely wasn’t going to let the rest of the team drive, he decided to politely allay their concerns by saying, “In the Otherworld, you need to have a license to drive.”

This seemed to satisfy both Kirr and Aitachi—although he suspected that that was because neither of them was familiar with what driver’s licenses were—but Day surprised him by pulling out a glistening card from his pocket.  “Ta-da!  Look, I have a license, too!  Manager went with me to go get it last week!”

He felt his stomach sink as he slunk toward the front passenger seat and said, “Ah, excellent work, Mr. Day.  Let’s you and I take two-hour shifts, then.”

Nine sighed as Day revved up the engine and cheered, “Yay!  Let’s go, Night Team!”  

He was going to die for a second time, wasn’t he?

Hour 1

“Nine-Nine, Tachi-Tachi, Kirr-Kirr!  Do you guys mind if I play some music?” asked Day, who, although had proven in the past fifteen minutes to be a moderately competent driver (He had only almost crashed three times!  A new low record!), was now completely turned around to address the two of his team members that were seated in the back passenger seats.

Kirr looked mildly concerned because as a hunter, he was used to and greatly appreciated the silence, and had regarded the quietness of the group in the strange vehicle known as “a car” as a kind of comfort.  However, he assented with a stoic “No,” when he noticed the disconcerted expression that Day, who enjoyed silence as much as any exuberant puppy, wore.  

“I have no objection!” assured Aitachi, who was curious as to how Brother Day intended to play a musical instrument when he was busy using both of his hands to operate the “car” machine that they were currently in.

It wasn’t that Nine didn’t appreciate Day’s choice of music—it was just that he knew that all the songs on the tall Soul Reaper’s Otherworldify travel playlist were either super sweet bubblegum pop or some kind of holy music in another language with lots and lots of sitar.  As it turned out, he, like Kirr, was a slave to Day’s melancholy expression and was forced to suffer with a “That’s fine, Mr. Day.” 

Day brightened instantly—it was so gloomy when it was silent—and, taking his eyes off of the road for a few seconds, reached for his cellphone to blast his travel playlist on the car’s speakers.

Nine cringed almost imperceptibly, and Kirr and Aitachi exchanged astonished glances because where was the music coming from (Kirr also privately wondered if the flamboyantly peppy lyrics of the female singer even could be considered music)?!

“It must be the work of spirits,” concluded Aitachi, nodding.  “Brother Day must have employed them to make these noises!”

“Waaaaah, Tachi-Tachi, it’s not noise—it’s music!” said Day, whose eyes had grown to the size of saucers at the comment.  “And hehe, nope, no spirits—the music is coming from these speakers!”  He gestured toward their various locations in the car, leaving exactly zero of his fingers on the steering wheel.

Nine nodded and took this opportunity to lower the volume as he elaborated, “Speakers amplify the sounds that pass through them.”

“What an amazing contraption!” cried Aitachi.  He turned toward his companion on the right.  “Don’t you think so, Brother Kirr?”

Kirr was silent for a few moments before measuredly answering, “It is indeed extraordinary … but will the music not distract you from your task, Day?”

“Don’t worry, Kirr-Kirr!” promised Day, who secretly had to admit that his focus from the road was wavering as he tried to sing along to the songs, but he wasn’t sure if he could stand the silence, again.  “I’ll try to stay alert!”

Nine was struck with an idea.  “Mr. Day, you have been asking to hear my personal compositions for a long time.  Would you like to listen to one now?  The classical music will help fill the long silence ahead of us but will allow you to keep your focus.”

Day beamed at the compromise.  “Yay!  We get to listen to Nine-Nine’s music!”

“Yes, play it, Brother Nine!  It is always good to listen to the music of a fellow warrior!” said Aitachi, as Nine opened his own Otherworldify account and began to play an instrumental soft piano melody.  

The group listened for a few moments before Kirr reached forward to lightly press a hand on Nine’s shoulder.  His eyes gleamed with praise as he said, “You have true talent, Nine.”

“Yeah, Nine-Nine is the best!” agreed Day, as he felt calm overcome him with the music.

“Brother Nine is a prodigy!” Aitachi said.

Nine smiled softly at the encouragement as he closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat as he, along with the rest of the Night Team, listened to the masterful notes of the first movement of Beethoven’s Piano Sonata Number 14.

While he loved Noctu dearly, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to show his fellow members his own personal compositions.

Yet.

Hour 2

As it turned out, the car that the 14th Department had given them was a gas guzzler, and at the beginning of the final hour of Day’s shift, Nine had the wits to peep at the fuel gauge—as the driver forgot to—and noticed that they were in dire need of gas, ASAP.

“It looks like we’ll need to refuel,” Nine announced.

Kirr immediately reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a short rope of jerky, handing it to him.

Nine shook his head.  “Not that kind of fuel, Mr. Kirr,” he said.  He took out his phone and searched for the nearest gas station.  “I meant fuel for the car.”

“It can share our jerky if it wants!” assured Aitachi, looking confused.  He wished he had remembered to bring carrots or hay, as that was the kind of food he had fed his horse, Tata, in the past, and he assumed this “car” would be more than obliged to consume the same fare, as well.

“I think Nine-Nine means gasoline,” Day said.  “That’s what gives cars their energy.”

Kirr grimaced.  “I’m afraid Aitachi and I failed to bring that kind of food.”  He lowered his head.  “We take full responsibility.”

As Aitachi bowed in tandem, Nine’s eyes widened when they both reached for their weapons.  “Mr. Kirr, Aitachi, it’s not your fault, truly.”  He gestured for them to lower their bows and knives, worrying that it was some kind of custom of both the Cicady and Atiyah tribes to self-mutilate as penance for an offense.  “Don’t hurt yourselves, please.”

“Hurt ourselves?  No, Brother Nine—Brother Kirr and I were only going to go hunt food for the car, as we didn’t think to bring any 'gasoline' for it!” said Aitachi.

Nine couldn’t hold back his laugh at the pair’s earnestness.  “There’s no need.  If Mr. Day will take a left here,” he nodded at the driver, who took an uncoordinated turn as instructed, “we’ll arrive at a station  where we can fill up our car with gas ad libitum, provided we have the money.”

“Which we do!”  Day pat his pockets in satisfaction, but upon remembering that he no longer was a wealthy human being, but rather a penniless Soul Reaper, he turned to Nine and blushed.  “Hehe, or I think Nine-Nine does.”

As the car rolled into the gas station, Nine smiled.  “That I do, Mr. Day.”

Hour 3

“Night Team, will you be with me as I wage war on Mane?” asked Aitachi abruptly as he rummaged through his messenger bag, his face a shade of red that matched the beads in his hair.  

Nine looked at the youngest of the group through the rearview mirror in concern, as Kirr instantly answered, “We will battle your enemies together, Aitachi.”  Nine was driving now, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t the main (read: sole) disciplinarian and voice of reason of his team. “Did something happen?”

“Yes, something did happen, Brother Nine!”  Aitachi pouted.  “It is a most grievous insult!”  He pulled out from his bag an enormous straw sunhat.  Around it was a sky-blue ribbon with the words “Aitachi: Cutest Warrior Ever!” embroidered on it.  

Day turned from his seat in the front to survey the commotion.  “Tachi-Tachi, that’s so cute!”

“That Mr. Licht snuck it into my bag, I’m sure!”  Aitachi shook the large headgear effusively.  “He's the only one who would do such a thing!”

Kirr nodded.  “We must seek the restitution of Aitachi’s honor against the Morning Team for this affront.”  

“Oh, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea …” mumbled Day, who loathed conflict of any kind.  “Brother Licht will just apologize if you ask him.”

“Mr. Day is right,” said Nine.  “No waging war of any kind, okay?”  He strained his ears to hear the muted mutters of assent from Aitachi and Kirr.  “I said, okay?”  He nodded when the pair agreed louder this time.  “Good.”  

He looked at the clock, wondering how far the other teams were ahead of them.  Surely no one must’ve reached the Purification Plains yet, else the Manager would’ve made a post (or the team itself) on SNS.  He peered in the rearview mirror to see Aitachi unwinding the straw of his new hat in frustration.  “How about in order to avenge Aitachi, we do it by beating all the other teams—including Mane—to the retreat?”

Aitachi brightened at the prospect.  “What a good idea!”  He raised a fist determinedly.  “Death to the Morning Team!  Drive as fast as you can, Brother Nine!”

“Yay!  Let’s win this race, everyone!” cheered Day.  

Kirr bobbed his head.  “To the winners go the spoils.”

Nine grinned as he pressed his foot down on the gas pedal.  It was nice to see the Night Team come together like this, and for once, despite their extremely late start, Nine believed that they had a chance of winning.

Hour 5

First a nervous smile.

And then a frown.

Another nervous smile.

Another frown.

And then … something that resembled a mixture of both?

These were the expressions that consecutively passed on Day’s face in the two minutes that Nine had watched him out of the corner of his eye.

“Is something the matter, Mr. Day?” he finally had to ask.

Day stuttered, “I—um, no!”

“Brother Day, do not feel as if you need to hide your feelings from us!” said Aitachi.  “We are all warriors of equal caliber and can speak freely to one another.”

Kirr echoed the thought by saying, “Aitachi is right.  There are no secrets between us.”

Day’s face absolutely melted at the kind words.  “It’s just that,” he blubbered, “I really have to go to the bathroom and I know we’re on a tight schedule now and I don’t want to be a bother, and, and, and—”

“Mr. Day, there is no shame in needing to relieve yourself.”  Nine looked out the window and saw that a rest stop was coming up.  “We could all use a break, and look over there—there’s a resting place ahead, so we won’t even have to go out of our way.”

“Th—thanks for saying that, Nine-Nine,” sniffled Day, rubbing his watery eyes, as he pulled the car into the shelter that Nine had pointed out.

As soon as the vehicle came to a sudden stop (à la Day’s masterful parking skills), the party mosied out of the confining space of the car and into the open expanse of the rest stop.

Day sprinted to the bathroom shelter upon their arrival and Kirr began to stretch his muscles, much to the excitement of the flock of girls who stared nearby.

Nine followed Aitachi, who had smelled water and had grabbed Licht’s hat with every intention of throwing it into whatever body of water larger than a puddle that appeared.  

The younger boy saw Nine shadowing him and, as he came upon the lake which he had sensed, turned to the older Reaper and said quietly, “Brother Nine, you probably think I am being wasteful by casting such a finely-crafted piece of apparel away.”  He sighed and held the hat over the water.  “But I am a warrior and worked hard to be recognized as one in my tribe—it's disheartening to know that many in the 14th Department don’t see me as one simply because of my appearance.”

Nine shook his head.  “I don’t think that way at all.”  He himself loathed his own beauty and the other Reapers’ constant mention of it.  In that moment, he felt a kind of kinship with Aitachi, for they both hated what they saw in the mirror.  He pulled the younger Soul Reaper closer to the lake until they both could see their reflections in it.  “You are more than your appearance, Aitachi.  Us on the Night Team know that, but if the Reapers on the other teams need a reminder, we will make sure they get one.”

With that, he guided Aitachi’s hands farther above the water and gestured for him to let the hat go.  They both released a cathartic sigh as the ripples in the wake of its tumble down to the depths of the lake marred their reflections in the water.

Hour 6

“Is that the Evening Team?” asked Kirr as Day’s haphazard driving sped them past a field of fruit trees.  He was sure that his keen eyes had spotted Noah, Sian, Kati, and Cyrille lounging under several boughs, each munching lazily on an armful of apples.  

He watched—mildly amused—that upon noticing that the car that blazed past them was indeed of 14th Department and belonged to the Night Team (whose car had a vanity license plate that read “NOCTU”), no less, Hesperide dropped all the fruit they had been eating and looked at the passing faces of Day and Aitachi—who were sitting in the seats by the windows facing them—in shock.  

Nine smiled.  “That is the Evening Team.  And if I’m remembering correctly, they were the first  to leave?”  

“Yep, yep!” said Day.  “I remember because Little One was in a mood and told me to go away because I offered to get a suitcase that was too high for him to reach!  He told me my height wouldn’t matter in the end because Hesperide was going to leave first, and by Brother Cyrille’s calculations, that means they would get there first, too!”

Aitachi clapped his hands eagerly.  “They must have thought that their leaving early meant they could take long breaks.  A true warrior knows never to be so unguarded!”

“It looks like they’re already on our tails, nevertheless,” observed Kirr, who was still peering behind them at the Evening Team.  “They are fast like rabbits.”

“They’re already in their car?” asked Nine wearily.  Hadn’t they just seen them maybe two minutes ago?  Could they already be following them on the road?  He peeked into the rearview mirror in confusion.  There were no cars behind them for several yards—just how good was Kirr’s eyesight?

Kirr squinted, but he could still definitely make out Sian’s pink hair and Kati’s angry fist at least one mile behind them.  “They have not mounted their vehicle, yet.  They’re putting all their apples into some kind of compartment in the rear.”  As a hunter, he could gauge the distance and time it would take for them to catch up to the Night Team car in an instant.  “I have an idea.”

“What is it, Brother Kirr?” Aitachi asked eagerly.

Kirr looked at his companions.  “Let us set a trap for Hesperide to throw them off their course—and any other team that follows this path.”

“That is,” said Nine, “an excellent idea, Mr. Kirr.  Do you have any plans on what to do?”

“Normally I would suggest setting several snares to capture our prey, but as I believe Manager would be angry if the Evening Team was killed, I advise we set up a distraction that the other teams cannot refuse.”  He peered ahead with his sharp eyes and discerned a road marker that read:

Route 14 — Keep Right

Route 24 — Straight Ahead

If he was remembering the extremely long lectures Nine had given the group regarding the many winding roads of the Otherworld and how keeping on Route 14 would lead them straight to the Purification Plains, going on a different route would surely set one astray.  “Perhaps we should change the directions on that sign up ahead.” 

“Waaaaah, Kirr-Kirr, I don’t see any signs!” complained Day as he and the rest of the Night Team failed to see ahead what was so clear to the eagle-eyed hunter.  

“There is one,” he assured them.  “If Day were to move this vehicle with great speed, then we would be able to make it to the sign two minutes before the Evening Team.  In that time, we must rewrite the directions on it.  At present, it reads, ‘Route Fourteen, keep right, and Route Twenty-Four, straight ahead.”

“We will write ‘Route Fourteen, straight ahead, and Route Twenty-Four, keep right’ instead, then!” realized Aitachi.  Out from his messenger bag, he pulled several sticks of colored wax and lumps of coal, which he sometimes used to color pictures with—even though he insisted they were for the purpose of marking trees so one wouldn’t get lost in the woods.  “We can use these to rewrite the sign.”

And so that’s what they did.

Kirr’s estimation in how much time they would have to alter the road sign was correct, and the short time span caused their work to be rather shoddy, even though Nine’s beautiful calligraphy remedied it a little.

As they drove off, Nine bit his lip and said, “They won’t expect sabotage, so I hope they think that the mistakes in the sign were simply due to an error on the signmaker’s part.”

“‘Sabotage’ doesn’t sound very good, Nine-Nine,” said Day, who looked a tad bit queasy at the prospect.

Nine smiled benignly.  “Surely Manager expects a little healthy competitiveness in this contest.”

Hour 7

“Hm-♪-hm-♪, doesn’t everyone else think it’s funny that the only team we’ve seen in the past six hours is Hesperide?” mused Day, tapping absentmindedly at the windowsill.  “If what Little One said about the Evening Team leaving first is true, shouldn’t we have seen all the others in between?”

Aitachi pursed his lips.  “Maybe the other teams also sped past Hesperide when they were grazing, and they didn’t notice and so couldn’t take action?”

“Maybe,” said Nine, whose brow had begun to furrow,  “but I don’t think Noah would be that lax.  Especially since there aren’t that many cars on this road and all of the 14th Department ones have very obvious vanity license plates.”

“Diluculo and Mane up ahead,” announced Kirr, as if on cue.

The other Reapers’ eyebrows shot up.

“Both of the teams?” asked Nine, needing clarification because what were the chances?

Kirr nodded, looking ahead.  “All eight members are outside of their vehicles.”

“I see them, now!” exclaimed Day, whose jaw dropped open at the sight.  “Nine-Nine!  Nine-Nine—slow down!  Let’s see why they’re stopped!”

Nine, who didn’t necessarily want to waste time in oogling at the other teams, obeyed nonetheless and rolled down his window as the Noctu car stopped, with the engine running, in front of the field where the Dawn and Morning Teams were meandering about.

Quincy did not look happy to see them.  “Oh, great—it’s Doggo and his band of Night Team weirdos!”

Ell’s reception was much more welcoming.  “It’s great to see you guys—achoo!”

Day and Aitachi wriggled their way to Nine’s open window and poked their heads outside.

“Hey, everyone!  Why are you all stopped?” asked Day.

Aitachi, who had been surveying the area, pointed to Jamie, who was standing a few feet away with Non-Non, chanting, “Come on, lil’ feller, you can do it!” 

“I think, Brother Day, that Mr. Jamie is trying to get Non-Non to relieve himself!” 

“You brought Non-Non with you?” asked Nine incredulously.

Ell blushed.  “Mr. Jamie wouldn’t leave without him.”

Kirr also peeked out from Nine’s window.  “I too, would not leave without Non-Non if I were him.”  The tone he said this was so menacing that even Non-Non could feel a shiver down his spine.  

“Waaaaah, so that solves Mane, but what about you guys, Diluculo!”  Day looked a yard in front of him where Verine was pacing with some kind of inhaler at his nose.  “Oh no, is Bambi sick?”

“The Whelp is always sick, Doggo,” spat Quincy.  “And if he doesn’t get out of the car every hour for thirty minutes to get his stupid fresh air, then he gets even sicker!”

Youssef cleared his throat apologetically.  “What Quincy is trying to say is that Verine can’t stay cooped up in the car for very long so we’ve had to take a lot of breaks.  It’s only by chance that we met the Morning Team here.”

“If you’ve needed to make so many stops, how come you’re already only an hour away from the Purification Plains?” Nine had to ask.

The eldest Soul Reaper flushed and looked away.  “Mori … may have found that even though Route Fifteen doesn’t lead to the retreat location, it does merge into Route Fourteen quite aways down and in that span, manages to complete the same distance in only half the time.”

“Yeah, but Route Fifteen is shady as hell, so because of him,” Quincy whirled around to point a finger at Mori, who looked unperturbed at the accusation, “we almost got robbed seventeen times when we were taking the Whelp on his walks!”  He kicked the ground.  “And it doesn’t help that the dumb Morning Team decided to stop exactly where we did!”

“Speaking of the Morning Team,” Aitachi said, curling his fists angrily.  “Where are Mr. Licht and Mr. Ghilley?  I have many things I want to say to Mr. Licht for giving me that demeaning hat!”

“They’re both in the car, I think,” admitted Ell.  “And I’m sorry about Mr. Licht—he means well—achoo!”

Nine realized that unlike Diluculo, who had come through a different path, Mane must have stayed on Route Fourteen, and considering that they were ahead of Hesperide, must have found a way to avoid the Evening Team’s detection when they rested in the fruit trees.

“How were you able to get past Hesperide?” asked Nine.  “Surely if you went past them, they would have seen your car and drove ahead.”

Jamie, who was still trying to coax Non-Non into taking a bathroom break, called over, “Aw, Ghilley said that we should cover our license plates to confuse y’all.”

“Waaaaaaaah, isn’t that illegal?” asked Day, who didn’t realize that his team had no right to question Mane’s actions, as they themselves had done some unsavory things in order to win.

Ell’s blush deepened.  “O—oh, is it?  We had no idea—achoo!  Achoo!”

“While it is entertaining to hear of your exploits,” cut in Kirr, though not unkindly, “we of the Night Team must get moving, for we still have an hour yet to travel.”

Aitachi nodded.  “Brother Kirr is right!  We wish Diluculo the best of luck!”  He pointedly left out wishing well to Mane because dishonor!

“Bye-bye!” chirped Day, as Nine bade farewell to the other two teams and rolled the window back up.  

“That means the only team we have yet to meet is Die,” concluded Nine as they continued their drive down Route Fourteen.  

Day gulped.  “And scary King Ethan is on that team!”

“Brother Day, do not be afraid of Mr. Ethan!  We will most certainly beat him and the rest of Die!” assured Aitachi, although, he, along with the rest of the Night Team, could hardly fathom a scenario where the pretentious, but diligent Soul Reaper didn’t demand an absolute victory from his team.

Hour 8

“We’re almost there!” sang Day.  While he was busy playing Pictionary with Aitachi in the fog that formed from his breath on the window, he had still been keeping track of the time that had passed.

“And we’ve still seen no sign of the intrepid Day Team,” Kirr said.

Aitachi looked away from his and Day’s game to nervously offer, “What if they’re already at the Plains?”

“They can’t be,” affirmed Nine, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.  He was not going to give up a month free from cleaning shifts to someone as snobby as Ethan.

Kirr looked calm as he said, “Do not worry, Aitachi.  The members of Team Die are sneaky, but fast and strong, like foxes—and you remember how much fun we had the last time we hunted foxes.”

“Kirr-Kirr and Tachi-Tachi hunted foxes?  That’s so cool!”  Day exclaimed.  “Next time, take me too, please!”  He looked ahead and brightened.  “Hey, hey, that sign says ‘Welcome to the Purification Plains!’”

Suddenly, they heard an engine revving behind them and everyone besides Nine, who was driving, whirled around to see who the new car was.

Aitachi’s jaw dropped.  “Is that the Day Team?”  

The license plate on the front of the car proved it plainly, for it indeed, had “DIE” written on it, and the words were becoming clearer and clearer as the vehicle whizzed toward them at speeds that none of the decrepit 14th Department cars could even dream of moving at.  

Nine made the connection when he saw the plume of smoke and flames that the Day Team car left in its wake.  “Mr. June’s using his fireballs and blowing through all their fuel at once to move the car as fast as possible!”

“They were tailing us—” realized Kirr, running a hand through his hair in desperation, “waiting for the right moment in which to launch their true speed!  How could I have been so foolish as to not see this coming?  Ethan is a crafty foe, indeed.”

Aitachi tried to keep the panic out of his voice to console his friend by saying, “Do not think it your fault, Brother Kirr.  I’m sure Mr. Ethan purposely kept his car far enough that you couldn’t see what he was doing, but so that he could see us.”

“He probably saw us switch the signs on Hesperide, too,” recognized Nine.  However, he couldn’t dwell on that now, as the Day Team’s car was now right up next to them and was speeding past.  

Suddenly, Day was struck with an idea as he watched the golden smoke that depicted June’s handiwork from the tailpipe of Die's car.  “I have an idea!”

“Say it, Brother Day!  We’ll take anything!” exclaimed Aitachi, watching Die race closer and closer to the entrance to the Purification Plains.  

Day nodded.  “Let’s all draw our weapons and throw them at the car’s wheels on my count!”

Aitachi and Kirr bobbed their heads in agreement, but Nine stared at Day carefully.  “Are you sure about this, Mr. Day?  This is rather underhanded for you.”

“I’ll do anything to protect Tachi-Tachi’s honor,” assured Day, with not even a slight waver in his voice.  He drew his weapon and signaled for the others to do the same.  “On my mark, ready … set … go!”  He exclaimed the last syllable when he saw that the Day Team was fifteen feet in front of the entrance.

All of Noctu rolled down their windows and released their weapons at the word and every one of them hit true on the mark of one of the other car’s wheels.  As the Day Team’s tires blew out, the Night Team’s car sped past Ethan’s enraged face, but they had gotten no more than five feet before one of their own tires popped.

“Oh, no, King Ethan retaliated!” cried Day, referring to the lone sword that had pierced their car’s wheels.

However, Ethan’s sword did not have the slowing effect that he had intended, for as soon as Kirr and Aitachi felt the tell-tale loosening of pressure from one of their tires, their instincts and fleetfootedness, honed from years of hunting nimble hares and deer in the forest, took over, and they kicked open the car doors.  Before anyone could blink, the pair raced toward the Purification Plains’ entrance. 

“Come, Mr. Day, let’s follow them,” ushered Nine the instant the two sprinted out, offering his hand to the tall Soul Reaper.    

Day took it and grinned.  “Aye-aye, Nine!”

Ethan, along with the rest of Die, arrived at the entrance just as the last two members of Noctu did.  

“We did it!” cheered Day, huddling all the members of the Night Team into a group hug.  “We won!”  

“You didn’t win,” began Ethan, his eye twitching in irritation.  “You can’t win if your vehicle didn’t cross the entry point.”  He grit his teeth.  “Now since neither of ours can make it across, the winners will either be Mane, Hesperide, or Diluculo.”

“That’s not necessarily the case,” said the Manager, who seemed to materialize from out of nowhere.  She beamed at the two teams.  “The rules were that whichever team arrives at the Purification Plains first would win.  And since Kirr and Aitachi are both of the Night Team, Noctu wins!”

Ethan’s frown—which had momentarily disappeared at the sight of the Manager—deepened.  “But ma’am—they played unfairly.”

The Manager bit her lips.  “Technically, Sei Housemaster, Nyang Lead Manager, and I never said that there were parameters on what you could and couldn’t do to win, so while I don’t condone their actions—and yours, too, Ethan, I saw you throw your sword at their tire, as well—I think in terms of this competition, it’s okay.”  She turned to look sternly at the members of the Night Team.  “But I expect you four to pay for the damages you caused to the Day Team’s car.”  She cleared her throat.  “And to the sign.”

Day’s eyes widened.  “You know about that, Manager?”

The Manager only laughed and took out from her pocket four pink slips of paper and handed them to the members of Noctu.  “I award these coupons, which serve as passes from cleaning shifts for one month, to the Night Team!”

The group of four held their tickets up to the sky and cheered, and Nine had to admit, although his motivation for this road trip initially had been for these passes alone, he now considered them just a sweet, sweet bonus for the time he had spent bonding with his teammates.  

And on their drive home after the 14th Department Annual Retreat, he scrounged up his courage and poised a finger on the “play” button on the car speaker to share with the rest of Noctu his most prized, secret music composition.

He had hesitated before to show this part of himself.

But after this trip, he was finally ready.