#which she’s questioned before if she’s somehow the problem that’s making everything a disaster all the time

[daydreamerdrew]

Iron Man (1968) #14

[elisysd]

5. They say it's bad karma being such a heartbreaker

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: Bad karma - Miley Cyrus

It took a few days for Ethan to think everything through. He finally came to term with the idea that Julia would be the perfect match. The only problem he got was that he knew she would never accept it. There was no universe in which she could be okay with fake dating him. He needed a leverage, a way to get her to accept. He thought about it a lot until the answer struck him when he was under the shower. Julia had always had one dream in her life, one thing she would never shut up about. He remembered very clearly how she always wanted to work for Ferrari and how she would be ready to do anything to have the opportunity to work alongside her dad.

Ferrari showed signs of struggle since the beginning of the season with both cars barely managing to be in the points. Martin only managed to be on the podium last time after some incidents during the race. It had more to do with luck anda talented driver than with the car. And Ethan knew Lamborghini was far, far ahead of everyone. They once again, managed to make a car faster than the competition. Maybe, just maybe, if he could find a way to catch some information on how they achieved that he could inform Julia? Maybe that could be it. But as much as Ethan was appreciated and was somehow part of Lamborghini, he didn’t have access to the garage like actual members of the team had.

That’s how, one afternoon, he gathered his best friends to expose them his plan.

“That’s a disaster waiting to happen.” said Kyle.

“I think it’s actually pure genius.” stated Ludwig.

“Not only it’s cheating, but we are the current Constructor World Champion and I won last year. Imagine what a scandal it would be if someone happened to learn that we snitched and gave info to our biggest rival? That we might help them to make a car that could fight with us and imagine if because of that we lose the titles. We would lose everything. Our seats, our reputation, our heads because there would be no way in hell that we would get out of Christian’s office alive.” tried to explain Kyle.

“Well, that would force Lamborghini to work on efficient upgrades. I didn’t think that you would be afraid of a little competition, Kyle.” told them calmly Ethan.

“Man, we can’t let Ethan down… We promised each other to always be there for one another, that it would be us against the world, that we would all be in F1 or not at all. He needs us. We can’t give up on him.”

“There must be another way. One that doesn’t involve cheating.” argued Kyle.

“Maybe, but I’m running out of time.”

“Kyle, you wouldn’t be in F1 if it was not for Ethan’s dad. He helped you when you needed help the most. He supported your career because he believed in you and because you were friend with his son. You can’t do that to Ethan, you can’t let him down when now he needs you too.”

Ethan could see the wheels in Kyle’s head turning full speed. Finally they agreed and Ethan let out a relieved sigh.

They had to act fast. As soon as they landed in Jeddah, the last race before a one week break, Kyle and Ludwig managed to pretend that they were very interested in their cars development, and that they would love to be in the paddock earlier than everyone to talk to the mechanics and engineers that were already there . It took a few more or less morally questionable decisions, including Kyle flirting with one of the engineers while Ludwig managed to snap pictures of her notes, but they had done it. Ethan had now a all the information, securely saved on a USB drive. He just needed to get Julia alone before the race.

The young Leclerc was busy since her arrival in the paddock with back and forth meetings and discussions with mechanics. She was working with the team based in Warsaw on the first big upgrade for the Skoda. Hopefully it would help with the aerodynamics that was for now the main focus. It was not her decision, she thought that making sure that the engine was reliable was their biggest issue but apparently she was the only one to think that, senior engineer had looked at her with disdain in their eyes when she had dared raise her voice to suggest it to the team. She was frustrated and didn’t notice Ludwig hanging around her, too busy with her notes.

It was late in the evening, as the sun was setting and her last meeting of the day was finally over, when the biggest scare of her life happened. She was texting Romy, asking her friend if she was up for a movie night when she felt a hand covering her mouth and an arm snaking around her waist to pull her into a corner. She tried kicking her kidnapper and biting his hand but he was way stronger than her. When finally he dragged her far enough from the main pathway he released her and turned her around. As soon as Julia recognised Ethan, the slap went out by itself and echoed through the night.

“Fuck Julia! That hurts!”

“You creep! What is wrong with you? You scared the shit out of me!”

“Please calm down, I don’t want anyone to hear us.” he tried to shush her.

“Couldn’t you be normal and just asked me if you could see me?” she angrily whispered.

“Would you have followed me if I had asked you nicely?”

“Of course not!” she replied.

“Then you understand why I had to go out of my way.”

She snorted.

“I need your help.” he blurted out.

“My help? Why?”

Ethan proceeded to quickly tell her about what the team was asking from him after the scandal blew up and how a PR relationship was their idea. He told her that he didn’t want a total stranger to be involved in the shit show that it would turn into and why he thought she would be perfect for it. She took a little time before laughing. She laughed until tears could be seen in her eyes. When she finally calmed down she looked at him.

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

She shook her head and started to make her way back on the main pathway before Ethan grabbed her arm and forced her to stay a little while longer with him.

“Why would I agree? We hate each other.” she stated.

“Exactly! Think about it! It’s pure genius! I know there is no way in hell that you would fall in love with me.”

“And what is in there for me, hum? Because I can see how that benefits you, but me? I don’t see the point.”

“Well you would get some bits of the attention I’m getting. Think of your followers, Leclerc! You would get all the benefits of being a wag without being one.”

“Oh god, you really don’t know me, even a little bit, if you think that it’s something that interests me.” she rolled her eyes and attempted to leave once again.

“Okay. Fine. So maybe you’ll be more interested by that: Ferrari is struggling this season with their car. And you know who isn’t? Lambo.

He pulled out of her pocket the USB drive and shook it in front of her eyes.

“See that? There are all Lamborghini's manufacturing plans, inside. Well… some part of them, as well as pictures of the car. From the sides, the back and most importantly, the car floor. Valuable information, Julia. You know that better than me. You agree? They are yours. Surely, you would know what to do with them. You could manage to help Ferrari and looked like their saviour. Your dad would be proud. No doubt you would get a position in the team. That’s what you want, right? What you’ve always dreamed of?”

“That’s called cheating.” she said.

“Do I care? I’m ready to do anything to keep my seat. Anything Julia.” he was deadly serious.

“You would betray your dream team?”

“It will not be my dream team anymore if I loose my seat.”

She looked at the drive, still hanging in front of her. It was a tempting offer.

“If I have to work with my dad one day, it will be because I deserve it, not because it is based on a lie.” she finally told him before she made her way to leave.

“If someone can understand how much being in F1 means for me, it’s you Julia.”

She turned towards him.

“I’m sorry Ethan, for what is happening to you. Really. Maybe you don’t deserve it, but maybe it’s also your karma for all the times you’ve been an ass to people.”

“I won’t stop asking until you said yes. Just so you know. I’m persistent.”

She shrugged, not believing him in the slightest. It was okay, for Ethan, maybe today was not successful, but he loved a good challenge and not once had he ever backed down from it.

And indeed, Ethan spent all of his free time between Tuesday and Wednesday, cornering Julia every chances he got. And he had a lot of free time. To her big displeasure he even managed, thanks to Ludwig, to get her phone number. She tried to block him, of course when his texts and calls were being too much but she underestimated him. If he couldn’t annoy her through his phone, he would borrow someone else’s phone.

In the afternoon, she even surprised him lurking near her garage, looking for her and that was the last straw.

“Ethan Verstappen, I swear that if you don’t leave me alone I will get a restraining order against you!”

“You, Leclercs, have a real thing with restraining orders. That’s concerning.”

“Go away!”

“Say yes!”

“No! I would rather die!” she argued.

“Well, that wouldn’t help my case.”

“I don’t care. Let me work and get out of my way!”

“I will when you’ll say yes.”

“No!”

“Joolsie, come on!”

On Wednesday night, she really needed to unwind. She needed to forget about her work and how stupid sometimes people made her feel. She needed to forget how she missed her mom and Louis and how she wished that she could just crawl into her mother’s arms and let her play with her hair like when she was a little girl. But most of all, she needed to forget about Ethan and his stupid plan. So that’s how she found herself dancing under bright neon lights, a cocktail in her hand and laughing with Romy who had invited Kyle to join them. They seemed close, and Julia started to wonder if there was something other than just friendship between them. Not that she would ask her friend, she always had been closed off about her relationships.

That was something they both had in common. Both her and Julia were never ones for long-term and committed relationships. They were both focused on their careers and didn’t have the time, nor did they have the will to invest the little time off they had in someone. Julia much preferred one-night stands and casual flings to serious relationships. It was easier this way. No need to question if the guy was there because of who her dad was or if he was there for her. Less risks to end up with a broken heart.

She could feel herself spiralling. One cocktail turned into two, then three, then four and soon it was not her thoughts anymore that were spiralling, the whole room was too. Romy was seeing her friend drinking her body weight in alcohol and it worried her. It was not Julia. She looked at Kyle who shrugged, not knowing what to do.

“Maybe we should call her dad?” he said, unsure.

“Absolutely not! It would create a big drama and Julia doesn’t need that.”

“Okay… I might have an idea that you won’t like but what about Ethan. You and I don’t have access to the hotel, Ethan is the only one that we know has it and we can trust with her.”

“She is going to kill us.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“If she asks me, I’m going to deny everything and say it was your idea.”

With a lot of convincing and after ignoring most of her whinings, Romy and Kyle managed to get her to a corner of the night club, isolated from the rest of the crowd. She was completely drunk and as soon as Kyle went away to call Ethan for help she started to complain.

“Why do you hang out with him?” she groaned.

“With Kyle? We are friends.”

“He is Ethan’s friend. You are my friend. You can’t hang out with my enemy’s friend.”

“Ethan is not you enemy, Julia. Stop being dramatic.”

Julia rolled her eyes and crossed her arms against her chest.

“He is a fucking asshole, Romy. Like, you don’t even know how many times I imagined ripping that smug smile off of his face. It’s like every time I see him a new murdering idea comes to me. I hate everything about him, his punchable face, the way he acts around people as if he though he was better than them, how he treats women as if they were just pawns for him to use, how stupid he makes me feel. And then he dares to come to me and ask for my help? Like, excuse me. And he acts surprised when I said, no. Who does he think he is?

She was so caught in bad mouthing Ethan that she didn’t notice Romy’s gaze locked on Kyle and a certain someone that were coming towards them.

“Jul’ you might want to take a look behind you…” she quickly told her friend who ignored her.

“Hi Julia. I think it’s time for you to go home.” said Ethan, a playful smile on his lips.

Julia slowly turned in his direction and eyes him up and down with disdain.

“You’re not my dad. I can do whatever the hell I want? Just fuck off Ethan.”

“Speaking of daddy, yours would literally kill me if I was letting you go home on your own like that. No offense, Schumy but you’re not better. ”

“I’m not as drunk.”

“You are drunk but at least you have Kyle to take care of you.”

“I’m not going home with you.” stated Julia.

“Julia don’t make it harder than it needs to be. Don’t force me to carry you.”

“I’m not forcing you to do anything! I can take care of myself, I’m a strong and independent woman who doesn’t need anyone! Especially not a little prick like you.”

She could barely stand on her own. Ethan looked at her with a half smile and watched her trying to make her way to the exit of the club. She was in not state to achieve that on her own. In a few steps he was beside her and without letting her the time to react he just scooped her of her feet and carried her like she was a vulgar sack of potatoes.

“Ethan!! Let me down!” She said while trying to kick him.

“Stay still. You don’t want anyone to have a glimpse at your ass. That would make a great headline though but daddy wouldn’t be too happy about it.”

As he was saying that, he tried to pull down the far too little and far too tight black dress, in order to avoid Julia public shame. He could feel her trying to get out of his grip. That’s when he felt a sting on his right shoulder.

“Julia? Did you just bite me? Again? I’m really going to start to think that you are into that kind of stuff.”

With a lot patience and difficulty, Ethan finally managed to put Julia in his car, almost unscathed. He was sure he would have the bite mark on his shoulder next morning and would not be surprised to see appearing scratches on his back. It would not be the first time that something like that would happen to him, though it would in these conditions. He would just have to avoid showing his bare back in a near future. He took place behind the wheel of his Maserati and looked to the girl next to him. Her brown hair were falling like a curtain, hiding her face from him.

“This is not you, Joolsie.” he ended up breaking the silence.

“You don’t know me.”

“That’s not true. We grew up together, I think I’m probably one of the person that knows you best. And I know that going out in a club, drinking yourself to oblivion, that’s not you.”

“That’s your fault. Why did you have to show me that USB drive? Why did you have to tempt me like that and why did you have to act like a fucking stalker these past few days?” she angrily said.

Ethan ignored her and proceeded to drivr her back to the hotel. He had never seen her so vulnerable before. He knew what he was about to do, he knew that he shouldn’t and just leave her alone, that it was wrong, but if he could manage to get her to agree to his plan, if there was a slightest chance, he wouldn’t miss out on the opportunity.

“Why were you so tempted?” he asked.

“It would be so easy to show my dad that I have what it takes to work with him… I know it’s cheating and I know that I could actually prove him in the long run, but getting to work on upgrades knowing Lamborghini’s manufacturing secrets… It would go faster. I would prove him that I’m good faster.”

“So it’s really important for you to work with Charles, then.”

“I want to make him proud. I want to hear him say my name in interviews and say that it’s thanks to me that Ferrari has a winning car. I want him to say to other people ‘hey look that’s my daughter.’.”

“He is already proud of you. You are his princess. You’ve always been.”

“Well he shouldn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

He saw her gulped and looked at her hands, playing with a red bracelet that she was never getting rid of.

“If he knew some stuff, he would love me a lot less.”

The atmosphere shifted in the car and Ethan knew that whatever she was about to say was something not a lot of people knew about. Carefully he slipped his phone out of his jacket and started a recording. It could always come in handy.

“There was a point in my life when I really hated him. I couldn’t stand being associated to him. I was always Julia Leclerc or Charles Leclerc’s daughter or the F1 world champion’s daughter. Never Julia. Never me. People didn’t care about me. People still don’t care about me. It was always my dad first, and me after. From everyone, classmates to teachers to so called friends and even classmates’ parents. I didn’t know who I was beside being his daughter. And I hated him for that. I never told him. I preferred to pretend that everything was fine when it really wasn’t. So when I started college, I decided to change my last name to take my mom’s. Michel is very common and no one would recognise me. My mom helped me with all the administrative stuff. We went behind my dad’s back, we never told him antyhing and he never suspected anything as well. I still feel so bad about that, so I guess, working with him being near him… It would feel like redeeming myself. Trying to make peace with that part of my life.”

And when she stopped, Ethan knew he had a bomb on his phone and one he wished he would never have.

The ride back to the hotel was completely silent after Julia’s revelations. He did his best helping her in the corridors and to make sure she would get back to her room in one piece. As he watched her fumble with her bag, he knew what was about to happen before she opened her mouth.

“Shit… I lost my keys.” she sighed.

“If you wanted to sleep in my bed so bad you only had to ask, Joolsie. No need to pretend that you lost them.”

“I’m going to call Romy.”

“You and I both know she didn’t get home alone. Bad idea to call.”

“I can’t sleep in the corridor…” she sighed softly banging her head against the wall.

Ethan tried to weigh his options before giving up.

“Come on, let’s go to mine.”

To his surprise, she didn’t argue. In the comfort of his room, she let herself plop on the sofa and cuddle a cushion. Ethan sat next to her, bringing her an extra blanket.

“You will at least give me your bed, right?”

“No. I need my back in one piece tomorrow. Don’t worry the sofa seems nice.”

“You are an asshole.” she grumbled.

“Yeah, we established that before.”

Still, he tried to put the blanket on her so she would be warm. He could see her drifting in and off to sleep. It was now or never.

“So… you know, about what you said to me in the car? I can help with all of that, you just have to say yes. And I promise, I’ll try to be a nice boyfriend so your dad will brag about me and how I make his daughter so happy.”

“Well, that’s something he would like, to see me doing normal 23 years old stuff…”

“Say yes Julia and you have all the keys to your dad’s happiness right in the palm of your hand.”

She hesitated, biting her lips.

“I’m going to regret it in the morning but, fine. Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Pinky promise? You can’t back down on one.”

“Pinky promise.” she repeated.

She woke up next morning with a big headache and her back hurting. She was hungover. It took some time for her to remember what happened last night. She remembered the clubbing part and Ethan being there but didn’t know where she was. It was looking like her hotel room but it was not. And that’s when Ethan got out of the bathroom, his blond hair stil damp from his shower.

“Well, good morning fake girlfriend!”

“It’s a no. I already told you so.”

“Well you accepted yesterday and you even pinky promised. So you are trapped with me!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Well good thing I thought about recording you!”

He replayed her their conversation and the more Julia was hearing it, the more she wanted to hide. Shame turned soon into anger.

“I was drunk! You can’t hold drunken confessions against me!”

“You said yes!”

“I wasn’t in the right state of mind! I wasn’t in any way, shape or form able to give my consent in a clear way!”

“You also said a lot of interesting things about your dad, things that would make him really sad to know…”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I don’t want to have to use them, Julia. I really don’t want that.”

He could see the doubt in her mind and he decided to let her listen to the conversation in his his car. He could see her face turned pale and he almost regreted it.

“Delete that.” she said seriously. “I’ve never begged you Ethan but I’m doing it now, don’t do that. It will break his heart. I’ll pretend to date you but please delete that.”

He nodded and give her his phone so she could do that by herself.

“So we will do it? For real?” he asked.

“Well, I guess… You won’t leave me alone anyway.”

“In that case, a promise is a promise.”

He went to his night table and pulled out the enveloppe with the USB drive in it before giving her to Julia. She took the drive out and looked at it.

“Let’s do it, Verstappen.”

Author's note: I was so excited to release this chapter! Everything is now set for the story to really begin. I can't wait to hear your feedback on this chapter!

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. It helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

Taglist:

@herondalism @aundercover @musingsbyshreya @karmabyfernando @reengard @mycenterfold @smoooothoperator

[angelfate]

NOT to talk about josie more. but one of the biggest critiques regarding her character is that she's a crybaby. if people don't just say they find it annoying, then they say she's barely a character 'cos her only gimmick is being a startled crybaby. whilst there might be some truth to that. i am gonna say why josie interests me more than azucena does (which is another character that's heavily criticized for being a one note gimmick character)

the thing about josie's crying & insecurity is that they're flaws. it's an obstacle josie has and must overcome. josie has goals. she wants to become a tek force member because they helped her country in need. but obvs, josie cannot become a tek force soldier in her current mental state. she gets easily scared of everything, she's way too emotional, and she has zero confidence in her abilities. therefore, josie has to develop in order to achieve her goals. this gives her a journey.

the crying also makes you interested 'cos it makes you wonder why she is like this. maybe something tragic happened to her for her to be this way. it could be the country's natural disasters that caused her to be like this. harada said she cries all the time because of "something in her past" - considering that josie apparently had low confidence before typhoons, it's possible something else happened to her, too. this adds some mystery to her character.

and that's the thing. josie's character has potential to be interesting.

the problem with azucena's character? she offers little potential to be a more interesting character. unlike josie, azucena has barely any goals she wishes to achieve. the only goal azucena has is to just get her coffee brand's name out there? though like, as seen in games, her coffee's brand is already all over billboards — like in her backstory, she's struggled to promote ideas, but that's in the past. already in the game, she's a popular figure and her coffee brand is out there. it's not like she's just starting out with no finances to support her dream.

also with the way her character is hyperactive, there's no really questioning why she's like that. she's quirked up on caffeine, that's it lol. there's no wondering about her character in that sense, no mystery, no potential.

the most interesting thing about azucena was her alignment with g-corp. it possibly offered the idea that azucena is a Capitalist Queen who would let millions die for the sake of profit. but... then it's revealed she somehow thinks g-corp are the Good Guys despite kazuya threatening to wipe out countries? and like, the game continues to treat her like a good guy. this could've been interesting as maybe azucena's judgment is very wonky, she might personally be delusional, and that could be fascinating to delve into. buuut... considering the other odd plot choices of tk8, i'm gonna chalk this up to wonky writing rather than being intentional.

and that's just it to me. personally, i think josie has potential. she has a cute design, i think the crybabyness is a unique trait as well as an obstacle for her character, she has a goal that we can understand & it's a misguided one too, she has a connection with kuma, and she possibly has a past beyond the typhoons. that's why i write josie but i'm critical of azucena. azucena lacks what josie has — despite many players believing josie is a one note character too.

[lady-literature]

Found Family

holy shit did this one get way out of hand. Don’t expect them all to be this long because hot damn this is a monster compared to literally everything else but it just wouldn’t stop

(should I have expected this? probably. we all know how I am about found family.)

anyway enjoy 4.5k words ig

based on this post | @maribatmarch-2k21 | find more here

***

When Marinette had been chosen to intern with Monsieur Wayne’s PA, she hadn’t been expecting anything special. Sure, the Waynes were an odd breed and generally considered strange, but Marinette hadn’t actually expected to have much contact with them—if any at all.

She was here to earn credit for her business degree.

Instead, she has… well. She thinks she’s been somehow inducted into the Wayne family, mostly on accident and kind of as a joke.

That is, until it very much wasn’t.

***

Her first mistake, she supposes, was being too good at her job.

Marinette is an old hand at keeping track of multiple moving parts and riding herd on stubborn people who’d otherwise be too distracted or goofing off. (She was the Court’s leader for more than just being the latest in a long line of Ladybugs, after all.)

After the first two days shadowing Selina—“please, darling. Ms Kyle is so formal”—and learning the broad strokes of the job, Marinette felt confident enough to dig her nails in and get to work. Selina spent most of her time dedicated to international tasks and arranging Monsieur Waynes’ private affairs—all of which was highly classified and not discussed with Marinette—so she turned her attention to inter-company affairs.

Her first order of business was personally meeting with as many people in managerial positions as she could get. Not a requirement for the job per se, but these were people she’d have to interact with often and Maman had always stressed the importance of building connections in the workplace.

“People,” she would say, “are far more willing to do what you want them to when you’ve endeared yourself to them.”

So Marinette takes that advice and spends her breaks and lunches charming employees and giving baked goods to security guards and learning the names of the cleaning crew. She doesn’t speak to the department heads, because Selina handles their correspondences, but everyone else is free game as far as she’s concerned.

She becomes a well-recognized face astoundingly quickly.

***

Marinette probably should’ve seen the rumors coming.

It’s common practice in not only the Wayne family, but in most business conglomerates, for the children to quickly rise through the ranks of their company—if not just handed a high position right off the bat.

It took barely a month before the eldest was all but running Human Resources, and the second was placed as Head of Security practically out of nowhere. Monsieur Drake is the youngest (and most terrifyingly calculated) CEO to ever hold Wayne Enterprises, even if he does share the title with his father.

The other three are still too young or have yet to express an interest in the company, but people say it’s only a matter of time.

The track record speaks for itself, even if Marinette wishes it didn’t.

As a girl who’d come mostly out of nowhere and found herself with far more divisive sway in the company than she had any right to, it’s no wonder everyone thinks she’s some sort of secret Wayne finally coming out of hiding.

Marinette had nearly choked on her coffee when Selina dropped the bomb of that particular tidbit of company gossip.

“Most think you’ve been unofficially adopted,” Selina tells her, looking far too amused for Marinette’s liking. “Seeing as you’re too old for official avenues now.”

Marinette looks up warily from the schedule she’s rearranging. Selina had all but shoved the thing at her a month ago when she started suggesting more efficient ways of managing the CEOs’ valuable time.

“Only most? Does that mean the rest have common sense?”

Selina’s grin widens even further, if that’s possible, and Marinette regrets her question even before the older woman starts speaking.

“Oh, of course not!” she laughs delightedly. “The rest are hoping to hear news of wedding bells. It’s high time someone swept a Wayne off the market, don’t you think?”

***

“So you’re the new little sister I keep hearing about.”

Marinette stares up through narrowed eyes at the brightly smiling Dick Grayson. In her stomach, there are already the beginnings of resignation starting to form. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you!”

This man is going to bring her nothing but trouble. She can tell.

***

Dick takes a liking to her. And she, against her better judgment, finds herself doing the same to him.

It’s a little hard not to, if she’s being honest. He’s bright and bubbly and brings her bagels during his morning break without her ever having asked.

It takes practically no time at all before Marinette considers him a friend, relaxing when he’s near and laughing openly at his ridiculous jokes. Despite being the head of HR, he’s not great at the whole ‘professional’ thing and often employees will walk by to find him draped across a chair or balancing precariously on the edge of her desk while she tries and fails to get some work done while he’s around.

It really doesn't help all of the ‘Marinette is a Wayne’ rumors running around. Especially when Dick starts pointedly calling her every variation of ‘little sister’ that he can think of just to annoy her (and, she knows, because he thinks the entire situation hilarious).

***

Three weeks after befriending Dick, Selina all but shoves her into Monsieur Drake’s office and, in no uncertain words, says, “He’s your problem now.”

Marinette blinks at what she can describe as nothing other than a disaster area and just… sighs.

Tim blinks back at her.

The motion is somehow both completely blank and filled with an uncomfortable amount of knowing at the same time. There is also, she notices, a frankly ludicrous amount of concealer caked beneath his eyes and more coffee cups scattered on every flat surface than Marinette has ever seen in her life.

She knows his schedule like the back of her hand seeing as she spends hours of her day pouring over it to make sure everything runs smoothly. He has no prior engagements for the next three hours.

“You’re not going to take a nap just because I ask, are you?”

He snorts. “Absolutely not.”

She nods, having expected the answer; her phone was already at her ear before he even finished speaking. “Hey, Dick!” she greets, sounding brighter than she feels at the moment, and watches as Tim stiffens in front of her. “Yeah, no. I was just wondering if you’re busy right now.” She pauses. “Oh, good! Can you come up to Tim’s office for me? Yeah, I need you to knock him out so I can fix his dumpster fire of an office.”

Tim has since started waving his hands frantically at her, panic setting in behind his eyes.

Marinette stares at him, unmoved. “Thanks, Dick! You’re the best!”

The silence after she hangs up is deafening.

“I don’t know if I should be impressed by the ease you’re manipulating me or pissed off that you’re doing it in the first place.”

She hums thoughtfully. “Does your decision have any bearing on my future employment?”

His eyes squint. “…No.”

Marinette shrugs, mind already whirling with what she’ll need to get done first and calculating how long she’ll likely have to get it done. “Then I think you should skip right over both of those and land on resignation as quickly as possible, Monsieur, because you’re going to have to get used to it regardless.”

It’s silent for a long moment, and she worries for just a second that she’s severely crossed some sort of line. Then Tim bursts out laughing instead of, you know, firing her like he probably should have.

“Oh, yeah. You’re going to fit right in here.”

Marinette doesn’t ask where the ‘here’ is. She’s pretty sure she already knows.

***

It takes ten days for Marinette to wrangle Tim’s life into something resembling order. His office is clean and organized to his liking. She’s developed a system of filing so that all paperwork goes through her and is quickly sorted into ‘can be handled by Marinette’, ‘forge his signature and tell him about it later’, and ‘actually important enough to have Tim read through’.

His schedule is the most efficient it’s ever been and Marinette is quickly honing the skill of getting him properly dressed and out of his office in under thirty minutes. (Dick is, thankfully, a great teacher and has little to no qualms about giving her the key to all his little brother’s weaknesses.)

Selina stares at her when Marinette all but drags Tim from his office, a folder tucked neatly under his arm and the sugary monstrosity of a caffeinated beverage she’s bribed him with in her own, with a whole ten minutes to spare before his meeting with the Board.

“My dear,” she says solemnly, “you are positively magic.”

She doesn’t even look up from where she’s simultaneously wrangling Tim’s hair into submission and laying his tie down flat. “You have no idea.”

***

She knows Tim is capable of professionality. She’s seen the cool facade he pulls up in front of the Board members and the kind but impersonal smile he uses on the employees of Wayne Enterprises. (He is not the Ice Prince of the Wayne family, but Marinette believes he should have some equally ruthless sounding title.) He is aloof and sharp and every inch the businessman people praise him to be.

She’s seen it. And yet… 

“Monsieur. Why are all the Lexcorp contracts I gave you done in crayon?”

Tim doesn’t stop messing with his Rubix cube or even look up at her when he says, “Cause deadbeat fathers don’t deserve the respect of a pen.”

Marinette is very tired. She does not have time for this. “What are you talking about?”

“Lex is a bitchass absentee dad and I live to inconvenience him.”

“What about inconveniencing me?” she all but whines. “I can’t hand him these!”

That does make Tim look up at her, eyes wide with false innocence and mouth pouting up at her. “But sister dearest, I’m your little brother. It’s my job to inconvenience you.”

Growling in frustration is probably an inappropriate reaction to the situation.

But, Marinette thinks, so is the fact that both of the Waynes she associates with regularly seem hellbent on convincing the world that she too, is a Wayne, so.

(Is this how Alya felt dealing with the twins? Cause if so, Marinette takes back every joke she ever made—little siblings are a bitch.)

***

She meets Damian without warning.

Honestly, she never really expected to meet him at all but, well.

She finds him in Monsieur Wayne’s office, sitting at his father’s desk and doing something that she thinks is vaguely illegal, but she’s not about to tell her Boss a dozen times over how to parent his children.

Damian is a near-perfect copy of his father with darker skin and calculating green eyes. There’s also a more potent aura of danger around the child than there is around his father, like Damian hasn’t yet learned how to hide behind his public persona as his father had.

Or, Marinette looks at the teen thoughtfully, perhaps he just chooses not to.

“Monsieur Wayne,” she greets. Children like to be treated like adults, she knows, and Marinette doesn’t think this one is any different. “Selina hadn’t told me you’d be in the office today.”

“I don’t run my schedule by her,” he says flatly. A response she expected considering Dick’s stories.

“Of course not,” she agrees.

He finally deigns to look up at her and something flits across his expression, too fast for her to pick up on it. “Are those for Father? Bring them here, I’ll deal with them in his absence.”

Marinette raises her eyebrow. “I’m not sure that’s wise Monsieur.”

Damian scowls and sticks his hand out. “I’m perfectly capable of forging Father’s signature. Give them here.”

She does not move and, instead, lets her lips quirk up into the smile she’s been fighting since she stepped in here.

“I don’t doubt it,” she tells him, and she doesn't. Forgery seems exactly like the kind of skill a child who broke into the CEO’s office of a multi-billion dollar company would have. “But you’ll find that all forging of signatures has been finished for the day and that these,” she shakes the sheaf of papers lightly, “actually require your father’s attention.”

He snorts disbelievingly and it says a lot about Marinette’s life up until now that the blatant display of disrespect doesn’t piss her off but instead reminds her of Chloé and of the fact that she still needs to reschedule their spa day. It's been too long since they spent time together in person.

“Well,” she pauses and eyes the papers thoughtfully. “‘Requires’ in the sense that its information needed to trounce the Board when they start spouting off greedy bullshit about cutting corners on our humanitarian efforts. I’m not sure how much of it is actually useful for anything besides that.” She shrugs. “But homework is homework, yes?”

That gets her a thoughtful once-over. His hand lowers and he then turns back to whatever he’s messing with on his father’s computers.

“Very well,” he concedes. “Father will be back in approximately thirteen minutes. You can leave the papers and I’ll inform him of their… importance.” He smirks, but it’s more like he’s letting her in on a joke than anything else.

Marinette smiles back as she sets the folder on the desk, feeling, oddly, like she’s passed some sort of test.

***

The day after, both Dick and Tim are waiting for her with what looks like an entire bakery laid out in her workspace.

“Uh,” she says eloquently, setting her purse down on her chair because there’s not a single open space on her desk not filled with some kind of pastry. “What’s all this?”

She looks up to find neither Dick nor Tim has stopped staring at her since she walked in. “We heard you met Damian yesterday,” Dick starts warily, like he’s scared of her reaction.

The response does not abate her confusion. 

“Yes, I did,” she says slowly. “That does not explain all… this.” She waves a hand, trying to encompass them as well as the state her desk is in.

The two brothers share a look.

“It’s a bribe,” Tim tells her simply and Marinette is taken aback for all of a second before her eyes suddenly narrow.

Dick cuts in hastily before she can say anything. “It’s more of an apology, really. For Damian’s behavior.”

But Marinette is confused and frustrated and just a bit offended by the apparent not-bribe at this point. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, but it only does so much.

“Damain’s behavior was fine,” she tells them with measured neutrality. “You two, on the other hand, are being weird and it’s freaking me out.” She crosses her arms expectantly. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

Appearing from out of nowhere, Selina drapes herself along Marinette’s shoulders and snags a raspberry scone. “I do believe,” she says as if sharing a secret, “That they are trying to keep you from quitting, kitten.”

Marinette wrinkles her nose. “Why would I quit? I like this job.”

She also likes the Waynes (in general, if not right then) and she likes Selina. The woman was a good mentor who didn’t shy away from the dirtier parts of the job and taught Marinette all she knew. (Even the bits, she noticed, that had little to nothing to do with being a personal assistant and were more likely to be found in the repertoire of a thief.

But, Marinette is in possession of her own sticky fingers and knows how to not ask questions, so. You know—curiosity killed the cat and all.)

She doesn’t voice any of that, but Selina, at least, knows it anyway. Marinette isn’t quiet about her gratitude after all.

“First meetings with the youngest Wayne don’t often go well,” Selina tells her. “In fact, I think he has a habit of making the interns cry.”

Dick makes some kind of offended noise. “Hey! He hasn’t done that since he was twelve!”

Tim elbows him in the ribs and Marinette makes a vaguely skeptical face at all three of them before deciding it wasn’t worth it. She has actual work to get done today and pastries to get rid of before she can even start.

She pats affectionately at Selina’s hand before grabbing as many boxes as she can hold. “Come on you two,” she says to the brothers. “You’re going to help me hand these out to the rest of the company.”

Dick immediately starts doing as told but Tim hesitates, humming thoughtfully. “You know that’s not going to help your whole ‘I’m not actually a Wayne’ thing, right?”

She glares at him. It doesn’t stop Tim from grinning like the utterly unrepentant little shit he is.

***

Things are quiet after the Damian Incident for a whole two weeks. It’s the longest lull Marinette has had since she first started and became somehow involved with the Waynes.

It ends because Dick finds out about the crush Marinette has been nursing on the Head of Security for three months now.

The Head of Security who is Jason Todd: second eldest Wayne sibling and Dick’s brother.

He takes it better than expected.

(Almost, she thinks later, a little too well.)

***

Despite her friendship with Dick and Tim—or perhaps because of it?—Jason had never seemed very interested in her. At first, Marinette had shrugged and counted it as a win; there was one Wayne, at least, who neither found her situation funny nor used it to poke fun at her.

They were on friendly terms, she supposed. Security has always been one of her more regular stops in the building, so she’d spoken to him often enough. He liked complaining that she spoiled his team rotten with all her treats.

But she also noticed that he likes her cherry danishes, so.

And then she noticed how crooked his grin was when he smiled. And how he seemed to have an arsenal of nicknames for everyone he knew. And the small collection of classic romance novels filled with sticky notes he tries and fails to hide in his desk. And, and, and.

It was around the time she began unconsciously memorizing his schedule based on when he was and was not there for her pastry deliveries, that she realized she may have made a misstep somewhere.

Jason was stubborn and passionate and flipped between overly proper and crass light a damn light switch. He was also, as stated, very much not interested in her.

Not that she would’ve pursued him anyway. He was a coworker as well as her friends’ brother.

Now if only one of said brothers could understand that.

“You should ask him out,” Dick suggests not for the first time and Marinette sighs, also not for the first time.

She loves Dick—she truly does—but he has been an aggravating level of unhelpful since he found out about Marinette’s latest romantic disaster.

“I’m definitely not doing that.”

Dick groans, like she’s being the unreasonable one. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

“Because I don’t like embarrassing myself?” she asks rhetorically. “Not everyone can have a fairy tale romance like you and Wally.”

He throws his coffee stirrer at her. “We are not a fairy tale.”

She shoots him a flat look. She’s heard Dick talk about Wally and Tim’s told her all the stories and she was there when he and Wally finally got their shit together. Dick was unbearable for an entire week with his gooey, lovestruck new lease on life.

“You two are the definition of fairy tale. You two make fairy tales look like trashy romance novels.”

He opens his mouth to argue the point before forcibly cutting himself off. “No. Stop distracting me. We’re not talking about that; we’re talking about you and Jason.”

“There is no ‘me and Jason’,” she reminds him through her clenched teeth.

“Not yet,” he says optimistically. Like it’s a fact, like he knows something she doesn’t.

He makes her want to slam her face into a wall. Truly, he does.

***

Dick stops running his HR papers up to her office. Instead, he’s somehow convinced Jason to play errand boy for him even though he literally never looks happy about it. What used to be a flimsy excuse for Dick to slack off for a few minutes and gossip with her has now turned into awkward silence as Jason drops off the papers and leaves without even a ‘hello’.

During their shared breaks, Dick takes to orchestrating ‘chance encounters’ between her and Jason, all but shoving them into each other (and even actually shoving that one time).  She catches Jason shooting dark looks at Dick every time he does it, and if she’d been holding any iota of hope at this point, it’s been smashed to dust. Jason obviously knows of his brother’s meddling and isn’t happy about it.

But Dick just can’t take the hint.

Every failed plan of his makes him steadily worse about it all—more frantic and frustrated and like he wants to strangle her for her stubbornness. (The last feeling being more than mutual.)

Dick’s meddling starts to make her and Jason’s previously friendly, if distant, relationship awkward and embarrassing. With every pointed comment, she gets closer to just punching Dick in the face. Or, maybe, she’ll just tell Wally who really ate all the chocolate strawberry macaroons she made; it’d certainly be more devastating.

***

It all comes to head on a Thursday, after most employees have left for the day. 

They run into each other in a breakroom, and she watches as Jason suddenly goes stiff, eyes flicking over her shoulder to no doubt scan for Dick. That single action makes her expression sour and she slams her empty mug down with more force than was necessary.

For Kwamis sake, he looks like a cornered animal. An image not helped by the way he jumps a foot in the air and stares at her like he’s worried she’ll suddenly lunge at him.

“Can we agree this is ridiculous?” she says abruptly. “I don’t know what Dick is trying to accomplish with his wingman schtick, but we both know it’s not going to work. Can we just… agree that he’s an idiot?”

A complicated look crosses Jason’s face before he snorts wryly. “Yeah, we can agree on that. Dickie-boy has always been a few sandwiches short a picnic.”

“I know things have been awkward between us lately, and I’m sorry about that, but I hope we can keep being friends?” she says hopefully.

“What in the world do you have to be sorry about?” he asks before she can start catastrophizing about the bewildered expression he makes at her words. “It’s not your fault.”

The smile she shoots him is rueful and she shakes her hand in an ‘ehh’ type gesture. “Kinda is. And I understand if the-” she makes a vague gesture between them that she hopes properly conveys ‘my giant, stupid crush on you’, “you know, is too much for you. Just say the word I’ll try and keep out of your way.”

She’s trying to be comforting or understanding or something like that, but all her words seem to do is make him upset. “Absolutely not,” he insists. “Sunshine, you are not going to change your routine just to make me feel better.”

Marinette crosses her arms, frowning up at him. “Why shouldn’t I? If I’m making you uncomfortable-”

He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Uncomfort- Marinette. ” She jolts a bit at the use of her name. She doesn’t think he’s used it since her second week at W.E. “I’m not sure who made you think otherwise—and if it was Dick just tell me cause I’ll kick his ass —but barring the fact that I still enjoy your friendship regardless of any… feelings-” Marinette concentrates very hard on not showing emotion when he says that, “-it’s not your responsibility to deal with it.”

Okay, but… that makes no sense. Of course her feelings were her responsibility, that’s the whole point of them being hers.

“If it’s not mine, then whose responsibility is it then?” she asks, wondering where the hell his train of thought is running.

“Mine, obviously.”

She gives him a look, complete with narrowed eyes and thinly veiled judgment. “What? Is this some kind of gentleman’s martyr complex? Is that what’s happening right now?”

Jason huffs a laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound. “If me taking responsibility for my own damn feelings is a martyr complex then sure,” he snarks, not unkindly. More like he’s trying to protect himself by retreating behind a sour attitude.

Her mouth is halfway around a retort when his words catch up to her brain and she freezes.

“Your feelings?” she repeats. “Your feelings for… me?”

His voice is carefully neutral when he says, “Those would be the ones.”

Her mouth opens and closes and opens again. “You like me? Seriously?”

His face spasms at the question, starting at anger before he properly looks at her and the surprised expression on her face. He pales.

“You didn’t know?”

“No!” she squeaks, something she hasn’t done since she was fifteen. “Well Dick said but I didn’t believe him!”

And fuck, she thinks. This means Dick knew the whole damn time, didn’t he? Oh, she is so going to kill him the second she gets the chance.

Jason runs a hand down his face, covering his mouth as he gathers his bearings. Suddenly, his eyes shoot back open and land on her. “Wait. If you didn't know, then what the hell were you talking about just now?”

She blushes to the tips of her ears and buries her face in her hands so she doesn’t have to look at him. It was easy when she thought he’d figured it out himself. It’s harder now that she has to tell him. “I- I was talking about my crush on you.”

He’s quiet for so long that she gets antsy and peeks out from behind her fingers to see his expression. He’s still looking at her, but now there’s a wide, crooked smile on his face. The expression softens something in her chest and she lowers her hands.

“Really?” he asks, leaning closer.

Marinette nods, feeling a small smile spread across her lips.

He jolts forward, hands reaching for her before suddenly stopping just shy of touching. She startles a bit at the motion but doesn’t move away.

Jason licks his lips, smile smaller but no less bright. “I- can I?”

She blinks. “Can you what?”

“Kiss you.”

The blush returns full force, but with it also comes a smile, giddy and bright. She nods and no sooner than she does, is he swooping down to pull her into a toe-curling kiss. His hands cup her face with a tenderness that makes her smile, makes her giddy, and it’s not long before they’re both smiling too wide to actually kiss and are forced to break apart.

His hands fall to her back, practically engulfing her, and his chin drops onto her head. It’s warm and cozy and she thinks she could so very easily get used to this.

Later, they’re going to have to deal with Dick and Tim and Selina and the teasing they’ll no doubt have to endure—not to mention how much worse the rumors are going to get—but right now? Right now Marinette pulls Jason back down for another kiss and very pointedly doesn’t think about it.

[s-brant]

Angels Roll Their Eyes (2/2)

(gif: @toesure) (PART ONE)

Summary: Hurricane Agatha approaches Kildare Island during the aftermath of the eventful Fourth of July party. JJ and Y/N are determined to continue avoiding each other after what happened at the party, but John B has other plans for them.

Warnings: Smut, strong language, angst, implied physical abuse, depictions of anxiety/panic attacks, and sickeningly sweet fluff.

Word Count: 24k

A/N: Here we goooo! To celebrate the trailer dropping today, here’s part two to Devils Roll The Dice. If you haven’t read the first part, I suggest you read it and come back so this makes sense. This one has all the drama and spice, so buckle up! Thank you for the love and support on the first part. Let me know if you enjoyed this and have fun, cause I had a blast writing it.

Hurricane Agatha.

It was the first thing she heard about as soon as she woke up yesterday to the sound of her phone blaring with an obnoxious tone that reminds her of waking up too early in the morning for work or school.

Her sleepy eyes couldn't make out who was calling, so she pressed the button to answer and lifted the phone to hear her mom's voice squawking through the speaker at her about the hurricane projected to hit the island in the middle of the night tonight.

The problem is, her parents are out of town this week, leaving her all alone to prep the house and endure the storm alone. And for someone who flinches whenever she thinks she hears the sound of thunder in the sky, that is the worst it can get.

It's a fear her friends are conscious of. One time when they were out on the HMS Pogue, a quick summer storm started to drift overhead and it took all of her self control to not fall into a blind panic when thunder began to rumble above. John B was already steering them back in the direction of the Chateau but she knew it would do nothing to calm her nerves until she was back inside of the house.

The anxiety was starting to become too overwhelming when JJ sat down beside her and threw his arm over her shoulder. It was their first month of knowing one another, so the casual friendly gesture made her jump at first and turn her head to look at him, but he acted like everything was normal.

The next person to notice was John B. With JJ currently out of commission, the only person she thought to call to help her prep the house for the incoming storm was him. Since they never got hurricanes up where she used to live her whole life, she needed someone who's been through a couple to help her while her parents weren't home.

That's how she ended up here. Sweating bullets in the front yard of her house as she unloads the contents of the van with John B was not how she envisioned her Saturday night to go, but she's glad she has someone who's willing to help.

In the past five months of being with the Pogues, she's learned that it's lovely to have friends. She never used to have any before she moved, so in situations like this or when she got so drunk at the party, she never would've had anyone to be there for her. It's quiet moments of kindness and companionship like this that make her realize how much better life has been on the other side of uprooting everything to move here—self-inflicted boy drama and all.

The sandbag on her shoulder sends a growing ache through her back muscles with every step she takes to follow him up the length of unpaved dirt path up to her front door. As usual, he makes it look way easier than it is, and it almost makes her want to laugh at how different they are.

Most of her new friends are effortless, naturally picking up anything they decide to try at while she is inept by comparison. It's part of what attracted her to JJ in the first place. He may have his insecurities the same way every other individual does, but in her eyes, he has nothing to be insecure of. Even when he wipes out on a wave and appears out of the water with sand clumped in his salt-kissed strands of blonde hair, he manages to make it look cool.

"What are you smiling about?"

John B's laughter makes her look up from where she concentrated on the dirt path to see him looking back at her. He stands at the entrance to her house with the rest of the sandbags they carried up placed meticulously in front of the door to prevent water from entering the house. They did the same thing with the back door an hour ago.

Is she smiling? She hadn't even realized her expression changed from one of exhaustion and fear at the dark clouds closing in above to a grin, so her face instantly drops in guilt. After running out on JJ for the second time two days ago to go to work, any mention of him from their friends has left her drowning in shame.

She can't recall the bulk of her memories from the night of the Fourth of July party, but she fills in the gaps between those flashes of memory with what their friends told her about it.

Thanks to her overindulgence, there are holes poked in the fabric of her memory.

It jumps from her last fully sober moment of seeing JJ across the room with the kook girl to dancing clumsily with Kie to the floral scent of her makeup wipes that she can't attach a specific visual image to.

Then, she can remember waking up with a start in the middle of the night to throw up in a pot beside the bed while he held back her hair. Before John B explained it, she was quite confused after waking up about how she somehow got from being jealous over JJ flirting with another girl to waking up in the same bed as him.

She grunts as she plops the last sandbag down into place and decides to take a seat on the steps leading up to the door.

"It wasn't anything special," Y/N says and watches him come down to sit next to her, "I was just thinking about taking something so I can pass out and avoid having a panic attack over this stupid storm."

Unlike JJ, she isn't that skilled of a liar. It's obvious to anyone who knows her well when she does it based on the way her eye contact begins to drift away and her voice raises in pitch when she speaks. She's too honest with her friends to handle keeping secrets from them, which is why it's been so difficult for her with everything that has happened recently. Not only does she lie to the Pogues, she also avoids them by association in the process of trying to avoid JJ.

Regardless of how obvious her bluffing is, John B doesn't call her out on it. Instead, he focuses on a different part of what she said.

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay alone? I know your parents are out of town till next week..." he trails off into concerned silence.

The tip of her sneaker hangs off of the edge of the bottom step and absentmindedly digs a line into the dirt as she takes in his question.

Being alone when she's prone to panicking is a recipe for disaster. Anxiety and loneliness have a relationship similar to that of a weapon and ammunition. It takes very little for her to fall down the rabbit hole of obsessive thinking and break down into a hyperventilating, fearful mess, especially when no one else is there to tug her out of those dark thoughts.

Most of the time, the people who help her with that are her parents. If they're home during one of these episodes, she'll come stumbling downstairs to them from her room for help, and they'll do everything they can to bring her down from hysterics. Her friends, on the other hand, have yet to witness her have one of those moments.

"Having people with me helps, you know? But it is what it is, I'll just try to cope the best I can and hope for the best."

He nods, and though he's a portrait of understanding, she wonders if he finds it as juvenile and stupid as she does.

Logically, she knows that this anxiety is something many people experience. She understands that it's something that is mostly out of her control but can't help but tear herself apart over it.

She thinks to herself, What kind of weirdo can't sit inside during a thunderstorm or hurricane without losing their shit? Why am I not the one in control of my own mind when this happens?

Do her friends think similar things? Do they think it's as pathetic as she does, or is she just paranoid that they pick her flaws apart as much as she does? And, of course, she wonders what JJ would think if he saw her panic like that. He may have seen her start to become anxious on the HMS Pogue, but he hasn't seen her panic panic before, not in the way that her parents have, and she wonders if he'd think less of her for it.

Right when she's about to change the topic and steer him away from a chance to think of how ridiculous she's being about the approaching hurricane, he says something that makes her look back over at him.

"Then come spend the night at the Chateau. I can distract you. We can play board games and shit."

"Really?" she asks.

The idea of anyone wanting to waste an entire night playing board games and possibly signing themselves up for having to talk her down from a panic attack makes her heart melt.

"Yeah, why not? You need a friend tonight. You know any of us would do anything for you. You're like my little sister, dude, we'd all probably hack off a limb if we thought it'd help you. Especially JJ."

John B's last second name-drop is designed specifically for where he wants this conversation to go. Underneath the need to get his friends back to normal, he does feel a little guilty for having to do this. She thinks he's only offering to let her stay with him to help her—and he is, even if there weren't a rift between her and JJ, he'd still offer—but he has a different reason.

"Right," she says softly. "Speaking of which...is he gonna be there tonight?"

With how often he escapes his house to spend a night or two in temporary safety at the Chateau, it's not an unfounded assumption. He and John B spend more time together than any of them because of this, and when she goes over to hang out, she knows that he and JJ often come as a package deal.

He tries to play it cool and not give up anything that could make her suspicious of him, looking off at the van parked in the driveway as he takes a second to collect his thoughts. It's never easy for him to deceive people he cares about, even if it's for their own good. It wasn't easy when he invited JJ to spend the night a few hours ago with the knowledge that he'd soon invite Y/N too either, but he managed.

As always, Pope is the brains behind this operation. He was the one to suggest inviting them both over to wait out Agatha together when the three of them put their heads together to come up with a solution to their oblivious friends' drama. After JJ stormed out of the house the morning after the party, they knew they had to do something about it. This was what it came to.

"Nah. I offered but he said he's staying at home until this whole thing blows over."

He isn't sure why she buys into it.

She knows JJ well enough to know that he would literally rather eat glass than be trapped in a confined space with his dad for an entire day. Perhaps it's only because it's what she wants to believe. She wants to believe that she won't have to see him again tonight after everything that happened. How can she handle having to tell him why got so drunk that night and made an ass of herself? She can't bear to tell him all of that unnecessary drama started because she was jealous.

What right does she have to feel that way? He isn't hers. They aren't together, and she thinks it's quite obvious that he doesn't want a relationship out of whatever it is they have together. It was one night. She has no right to be mad at him for flirting with other girls because of it.

"Then I'll definitely be taking you up on that offer. Thank you," she says.

The old wooden stairs make a squealing sound when she stands to make her way inside to gather her things for the night, but the feeling of a warm hand gripping her forearm stops her mid-step. Her eyes follow down the length of her arm back to where he sits, glancing at her with this knowing look in his eyes that makes her want to turn and hide.

"When are you gonna talk things out with him, Y/N?" he asks. "He misses you."

Since the party, no one has had the courage to burst her bubble of pretending not to care until now, but now that someone has, all of her bottled up emotions stir inside of her at a simple concept she hadn't considered yet.

JJ misses her.

For the first time since they began this stupid game of cat and mouse, she is confronted with how desperately she misses him back. So consumed with the task of concealing everything that happened and trying to avoid him, she hadn't acknowledged that all she ever really wants is to be with him lately.

She misses his jokes and the way he looks at her when she giggles at them. She misses his smile when they play fight on the HMS Pogue. She even misses when he dangles her over the edge of the boat as a means to end the wrestling match, making her squirm in his strong hold as he threatens to toss her overboard.

But what she misses most of all is how he never lets her fall in. It's something about the way he looks at her as he pulls her back onboard, how time itself seems to stop in the moment between when he's still holding her and when she feels her feet touch the deck again.

Then, they'll suddenly want nothing to do with each other for the next half hour.

JJ will make himself busy forgetting the way her hands felt holding onto his shoulders for dear life, burning the memory of her palm prints into his skin for the next few hours. And she'll try her hardest to forget that charming smile and the feeling of his arms around her. But it won't work, not really, and when they're both laying down to sleep at night, they'll have one thing keeping them awake.

She takes a second to internalize what he said and avoid exposing the effect it has on her to hear it before asking, "Did he tell you that?"

The sky overhead grows darker and darker by the second, but she has yet to notice it due to the topic of their conversation. With JJ involved, her attention shrinks to a tunnel leading only to him. There's no room for anything else but the audacious idea planted in the back of her mind that he might miss her as much as she misses him.

"No, he didn't," John B admits, and right when she's about to say more in response, he cuts her off, "but hear me out. I've known him since we were kids, so I can tell when things aren't right with him, and ever since your relationship with him got complicated, I picked up on some weird vibes."

Y/N doesn't give anything away with how she reacts. He can't tell if she's about to bolt like JJ did or stay to talk and open up to him. All she does is cross her arms over her chest and lean back against the railing.

"Weird in what way?"

"Weird in a way that makes me think you two have to talk it out before you ruin your friendship. I've never seen him act this way over a girl."

That doesn't surprise her. He has a reputation for chasing after any girl available to him, something the Pogues have gently teased him about, and it factors into why she doesn't want to have this dreaded conversation with him. She doesn't want to sit there and listen to him tell her that she was just another one of those girls to him.

Going for broke and being honest about what he thinks of their situation is a better strategy for trying to get her to talk to JJ than the other way around. John B can look back on what happened the morning after the party and see where they went wrong in their approach of trying to get him to talk, but she's less unpredictable and turbulent than he is. The fact that she's hearing him out is enough proof of their differences.

She sighs.

"I know we need to talk sooner or later, but it's hard, you know? I'm so embarrassed of how everything went down at the party, even though I was too fucked up to remember most of it, and I just—" There's a brief second that lapses between when she stops and when she starts again where he can almost see her working through it in her head. "I don't wanna get hurt."

John B's face falls at the mention of the party and her feelings surrounding it.

"You have nothing to be embarrassed of. You drank too much but who cares? The only person who should be embarrassed about that night is the guy that tried to take advantage of you."

That part is the most fuzzy in her mind.

She can remember what led up to it and the moment she saw JJ pull him away from her, but she can't remember anything about the interaction itself. It wasn't as if he did anything to her—not yet—but the thought of it alone makes her skin crawl because she's seen that before. She's been the JJ in that situation, pulling a wasted Touron away from someone who thought nobody would be looking out for other people at the party, and she knows how quickly those situations can escalate past "harmless" flirting.

The sound of JJ shouting at Tyler echoes in her mind as she reaches for any remaining memories left from the party. He said it right after he punched him, when he was starting to rush forward to follow him onto the ground and pin him there.

"If I see you near my girl again, you're fucking dead! You got that?"

She doesn't remember realizing that he called her that at the moment. She was confused and upset and all she wanted to do was stop him from getting himself in trouble, so she pulled him away from hitting Tyler again without realizing what he said. And even now, she tries to avoid acknowledging it. She reasons with herself, telling herself that he was pissed off and didn't mean it, because if he did, why hasn't he told her how he feels yet?

Y/N looks up and sees how dark the converging clouds have gotten in the time since they began working on prepping the house for the hurricane, so her next words are shakier than usual.

"I guess you're right." She pushes off of her spot against the railing. "But can we not talk about JJ tonight? I kind of wanna hang out and forget about the rest of the stuff I've got going on right now."

This makes him feel a pang of guilt inside of him for the ulterior motive he's kept hidden from her for the duration of the conversation, but he knows it's for the best. Even if her and JJ's inevitable conversation goes in the wrong direction and they don't end up mending fences, it's better that they let it out sooner than later. If they wait any longer, it'll make it worse, and he knows that they're stubborn enough to keep this childish game going for another week or so.

So, he keeps her in the dark for now and offers a kind, "Sure, that's cool with me," despite knowing how messy the night will soon become.

A smile pokes at the edges of her mouth, making the sides of her eyes crinkle, and she extends a hand to help him up from where he sits.

"Now," she says as they make their way inside the house for her to pack a bag, "are you ready to get absolutely crushed in Monopoly?"

It started to rain before they left her house, and by the time they pull into the driveway of the Chateau, it's pouring down on them with violent winds whipping droplets at their faces hard enough to hurt.

The rapid pace of her pulse beats with such an intensity, she can feel it in her head. They shouldn't have taken so much time at her place before heading over here. While she was packing, they talked and dilly-dallied the whole time, and now they pay the price for it.

If she knew that it would start this soon into the night, she probably would've hurried things along sooner, but it's too late. She's already starting to feel that tightness in her chest and each breath of air feels less satisfying with every inhale. It's not so bad that she loses complete control of herself, but it's getting there, and she can't express how badly she doesn't want to lose her shit in front of John B.

The passenger side door is slammed shut by the force of the wind behind her, the noise becoming swallowed up in the rest of the budding storm, and she stifles a sound of surprise that escapes her in reaction to it. They're lucky they made it here in the first place. Any later in the night and they probably would've had to take refuge at her place until it blew over.

She decides to focus on how the edges of her white sneakers are swallowed up by the muddy earth on her way through the front yard to distract herself. It stains them a deep brown color and simultaneously washes them clean from the rain coming down from above, which she'd probably be annoyed about if she weren't such a nervous wreck. But, because she's too busy keeping her backpack raised over her head to shield herself from the rain on her way up to the front door, it's not high up on her list of priorities.

Since both the screen door and the door behind it are unlocked, she doesn't hesitate to come bursting into the house as she usually does.

Y/N lets out a deep breath, feeling that telltale tension in her chest and shoulders, and laughs at the sight of John B running in as she kicks off her shoes. His t-shirt is speckled with rainwater, and his hair is saturated enough with it to stick to the sides of his face after he crosses the threshold into the Chateau.

The sound of her laughter makes JJ's heart stop from where he stands in the kitchen.

"There was an umbrella right on the dashboard, why didn't you take—"

Her heart might as well have stopped just as abruptly as the sentence she was in the middle of saying when she turned and saw him standing there.

Maybe they're both a tad too dramatic, but it takes a full few seconds for them to stop staring at each other in surprise. He looks like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide with surprise like he was caught doing something he shouldn't even though all he was doing was grabbing a beer from the fridge.

It's been two days since they last saw each other. For him, the last glimpse he got of her was when he peeked through the blinds to see her pedaling away on her bike to go to work, but hers was somewhat different.

The last time she saw him, he was asleep. Their legs were tangled together underneath the sheets and his face was smushed against her chest, allowing her to feel the soft puffs of his exhales on her skin every few seconds. It's a wonder that she managed to slip away unnoticed once she remembered she had work that morning. He was holding her closely, so closely that she found it hard to discern where she ended and he began in the dazed, hungover headspace she woke up in.

It's when the conversation she had with John B on the front steps of her house comes back to the forefront of her mind that she puts together what's happening right now. Now that they're here, it's far too late to leave. With how aggressively the wind and rain batter the area surrounding the house, it's obvious that they're not going anywhere.

It seems to click with them at the same time, because JJ turns to look at him only a half second after she does.

Y/N says, completely serious, "If you did what I think you did, I'm gonna kill you."

Before either of them can think of doing anything, John B shoots out from the doorway and runs past her in the direction of the hallway where his bedroom is.

"Gotta catch me first!"

They both chase him, JJ hopping over the back of the couch to run after him, but they end up coming to a screeching halt at the shut door right when they hear the lock turn and click.

Neither of them knows what they were planning to do when they caught him, cause it isn't like they'd hurt him, but they bang on the door nonetheless. The sound is drowned out by the sound of the wind and rain pounding the outside walls of the house, picking up speed, and for a second she wants to kick the door open.

She shouts, "John B! Open this door!"

The last thing she wanted tonight was to be trapped in a house with the one person she didn't want to see. Doesn't John B realize how embarrassing it is for her to be around him when she knows that he's gonna reject her? He may have said something about JJ never acting so weird over a girl before, but he's wrong. There's no way JJ actually wants her...right?

"I can't hear you, this storm's kinda loud!" he yells back at them through the locked door. "Maybe try again later!"

Neither of them wants to acknowledge the other. In fact, they don't even want to look at each other right now, so all they can do to stop themselves from acknowledging the elephant in the room is continue trying to get answers out of John B. What does he think that locking them together in the Chateau for the night will accomplish other than make them ignore their own drama and team up to plot their revenge on him?

Though he's significantly less angry than she is, JJ pulls the doorknob enough to make the door whine on its hinges and pleads with their friend, "This isn't funny, John B. Open the door."

"Not until you guys stop being immature and talk to each other."

She furrows her brows at him even though he can't see her, saying, "It's none of your business. You can't just trap us here cause you think you know what's best for us."

The sound of thunder rumbling above the house makes her flinch, hand shooting out to latch onto JJ's arm on an instinct she couldn't consciously resist. Feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her palm and the fingers clutched around his wrist sends shocks of familiar electricity up her body. Touching him always makes her feel hyperaware of herself, leaving her to wonder if he can sense her pulse picking up or notice how her breathing pattern turns uneven.

With that being said, it's safe to say that the night they spent together took that sensation of electricity and hyperawareness to a height it hadn't reached before.

That time, it wasn't a brush of their hands or an arm over her shoulder, it was the epitome of physical closeness. She couldn't handle it. He was so sickeningly sweet with her, yet, at the same time, he knew all of the right times to be commanding and in control too. There were awkward moments at first, sure, but once they became comfortable with each other, it was game over.

And whenever they've touched since, she hasn't been able to get those memories off of her mind. It's less prevalent now, since she's only holding onto him out of fear, but it's still there underneath it all—the unfiltered desperation of the lust in his eyes, the low noises that escaped his parted lips, and the strong pair of hands that pinned her hips down on the mattress to give him the leverage to really give it to her at the intensity she begged for.

It's pathetically easy for her to be sucked right back into the vortex of emotions, memories, and fears that haunt her whenever they touch, but he brings her back out of it just as easily when he speaks.

"You okay?"

John B was as good as forgotten by him as soon as he felt her jolt next to him and grab onto his wrist like she was hanging from a ravine and he was the only thing preventing her from falling. It makes him feel like a fool, but even when they're ignoring each other, the urge to comfort and protect her from anything that displeases her never disappears. He'd literally fistfight Zeus if it meant there'd be less thunder to scare her.

If he weren't hiding behind a locked door to avoid their wrath, JB would probably be calling him a simp right about now.

The concern on his face is so pure and unaffected by any of the chaos that surrounds them, both physical and emotional, that it makes her stomach turn with a sick feeling. God, he really does care about her. Why does that scare her? Why doesn't she want to believe that he cares? Why is she so set on believing that he wanted nothing more than a quick fuck from her?

Her eyes turn down to see their connected hands, realizing all in one moment what she did and pulling her hand away as if she were burned.

"I—Yeah," she stops, looking up at him, then back to the closed bedroom door, "I'm fine. You know how it is, it's just the storm."

They're both left with no choice but to face the music after days of avoidance that had no good reason behind it other than the respective doubts and fears they have. Yet even now that they're standing here, unsure of what comes next, they're hesitant to say or do anything that might disrupt the illusion they've created in the week and a half since they first ruined their friendship for good.

It feels as though the tension that has been boiling between them is coming close to turning explosive and all it will take is one tremor of their self-control for it to spill over.

Every feeling they have feels so contradictory. They want to but they also don't. They almost do it, then hesitate and decide to ignore each other for days. At the party, this tug of war game was at its peak for JJ when she was telling him about her jealousy and cuddling up to him, but he couldn't do it then, not when she was drunk. And by the time he had a whole night to think it over and see her biking away, he didn't want to risk it.

She looks away from him, hoping that "out of sight, out of mind" may ring true for once, and says to John B through the door, "Whatever, have fun. I won't hold JJ back when you finally come out of there though."

He won't actually do anything to him, maybe just a non-serious fight that'll end with her walking in on them rolling around on the floor trying to wrestle each other, but she likes to fuck with him anyway. For the dick move he just pulled, she thinks he can withstand a little teasing.

Without anything else to say, Y/N turns and walks off to make herself useful elsewhere—anything to distract from the buzzing, anxious energy that surrounds her from both the hurricane and being forced to confront JJ. She tries to play it cool though she is anything but at the moment, allowing herself to grimace once her back is turned to the blonde boy still standing against the wall in the hallway.

Maybe if she keeps pushing this false sense of normalcy, it'll work. It worked when they both started pretending things never happened between them initially after they had sex, so who's to say it can't work now?

All they have to do is get through the next 12-24 hours without talking and all will be well. Right?

They tried.

They truly tried to get through the night without inciting chaos within the Chateau, but, for these two idiots, not inciting chaos is a task easier said than done. Not only was John B much more stubborn with staying in his room than either of them bargained for, he didn't even attempt to speak to them for the first five hours and they were left with nothing to do but find new ways to avoid talking to each other.

It was simple in the beginning.

She went off on her own and sat with her headphones in to drown out the sounds of the storm.

With her eyes fluttered shut to block out anything but the sound of The Cure blasting into her ears, there was no reason for her to have to worry about anything once her nerves began to settle. Since the songs drowned out any sound and all she could see was darkness behind her closed eyelids, she was able to drift away with the distraction of the music.

The thing is, after a while, she started to see pieces of him in every song she skipped to. She made it a full minute into Just Like Heaven before a supercut of her most treasured memories of him began appearing in her head. Fade Into You? Skipped as soon as the first dreamy lyric flooded in through the tangled cords of the headphones. Cloud 9? Forty seconds in. By the time Dirty Little Secret came on, she decided that her playlist was mocking her.

The headphones were out of her ears, hastily wrapped up, and stowed away in the small pocket of her overnight bag before the chorus of the song could hit. Thankfully for her, JJ wasn't looking when she ripped the headphones out and put them away in a huff, so by the time he turned to see her again, she was laying down on the couch to "nap"—meaning she laid awake for another hour and cursed John B for making her endure this.

While she was daydreaming of a John B voodoo doll, JJ was worried about her.

Yes, the topic of their relationship/friendship/situationship/whatever-the-fuck-it-is was bombarding him against his will every five seconds, but not without him coming back to his concern for her. A small sound of thunder on an otherwise perfect day was enough to make her zone out and start getting antsy that day on the boat, so he didn't want to know how bad it could get during a time like this.

He tried to play it cool, and, in all honesty, his remaining scraps of sanity lasted a lot longer than hers. Four and a half hours passed, then, as the storm began to do its worst on their town, the power flickered out and left them in complete darkness. At that point, John B was passed out in his bedroom, so he didn't care nor notice when they had to find a few candles and stumble through the dark.

Somewhere along the way, having to search through the dark house for candles to light and place around the living room led them here...he isn't quite sure how.

JJ can hardly open his eyes enough to see through the rain that pounds against him the second he runs after her through the back door. The wind is so aggressive and unrelenting, it almost sends him stumbling a few steps when he follows her blurry figure a few paces behind where she tries to flee the house in a panic.

"Get back inside!" he shouts as he picks up his speed to catch up, "Y/N!"

The part of him that isn't focused on the pure physicality of trying to see and move through the stormy weather is utterly overwhelmed with fear. Not for himself but for her. She's deathly afraid of mild storms, let alone hurricanes, and yet she ran through the back door when he tried comforting her through an anxiety attack. One would think that she wouldn't want to go directly into the thing she fears the most, but what sent her running for the hills wasn't the panic itself, it was him.

It's hard for her to think rationally in this state, but all she knows is that he was there, he was saying all the right things and holding her, and she couldn't do it. The fear began to blend to one centered around both him and the storm. The hours of useless distractions and ruminating in her thoughts built up to this point of contention, then it snapped.

Between the thunder, his voice, and the voice in the back of her head that was urging her to confess her feelings and do as John B advised them to, it became too much. Maybe it was the most idiotic split-second decision she made without any regard for logic or reason or her safety, but she bailed. For the third time, she couldn't handle the pressure and ran from him.

The only difference is that he couldn't let her leave this time.

He gasps for air against the streams of water flowing down his face, soaking his hair and making it hang in his eyes to obstruct his view more than the weather already has. It happened so fast, neither of them are wearing shoes. His feet sink into the muddy yard with every stride he takes in his frantic pursuit of her and it frustrates him no end because of how it slows him down.

There's endless dangerous possibilities with her being out here. She could be knocked over into the marsh by the wind, or stuck and hurt by a piece of debris—merely thinking about it makes him call out her name louder in the hopes that it'll wake her from her panicked trance.

After trudging through the mud all the way to the edge of the yard, he finally manages to get to her.

"What are you doing?" JJ shouts, turning her around and grabbing onto both of her arms as if one gust of wind would sweep her away if he didn't, "You're gonna get hurt!"

Stumbling backwards in the direction of the screened-in porch that surrounds the back door, he uses their difference in strength to tug her away in the direction she came out in. The rain makes it difficult to keep a firm grasp on her, and she almost slips away a couple of times when the wind picks up enough to make him too unsteady to hold on.

His arms slip around her waist for a better grasp on her the closer they come to reaching the house. The last thing he wants is to almost get her back inside and lose her at the last second. She isn't thinking rationally right now with the panic she feels taking full control of her responses. He knows firsthand how it feels to be thrown headfirst into a panic attack, he's been in her shoes before and knows better than anyone the lengths your irrational mind will go to if it means survival. And for whatever reason, her response is flight, not fight.

The door to the screen porch takes all of his effort to open against the power of the wind blowing it back against the house.

He grits his teeth as he forces it open, one arm secured around her midsection, and helps her in before he slips inside too. The second he lets go of the door, it's sent slamming back into place and rattling in the frame behind them, but he doesn't spend anymore time on it other than the few seconds it takes to lock it. As soon as it clicks with him that they're safe—most importantly, that she's safe—he whips around to face her with a cold rage flowing through his veins.

"What the fuck?"

She stands in front of him with water pouring off of her in rapid drops onto the rug, and there are no thoughts in her head outside of the ones telling her to leave. Her tears blend in with the droplets of rain so seamlessly that he wouldn't know she's crying if not for the sound of it.

In between her rapid breaths and sobs, she yells back at him, "I was scared, okay?"

"Why'd you run out into the storm if you—"

"I wasn't afraid of the storm, I was afraid of you!"

The silence that follows is louder than anything they've experienced. Nothing can rival it, not the thunder, the rain, or anything can drown it out while he stares at her in shock. His eyes are wide, lips slightly parted as he reaches for something, anything, he can say in response to that, but there's nothing. For once, he is absolutely speechless.

Things got awkward between them in the initial aftermath of last week, but not like this. There was never an instance where he felt like there was nothing left for him to say to her to fill the uncomfortable silence that always brought forth memories of them together until now. Until she said the last thing he wanted or expected to hear.

His anger subsides as he picks over what he did in his head for anything that could've made her feel unsafe.

Before it evolved into him chasing after her through the hurricane, he noticed how terrible it had gotten for her when he lit the first candle. Her cheeks were streaked with tears and her chest began to rise and fall faster with each second that passed. He could see it on her face that things were getting worse, but, now that he thinks of it, it got worse once he reached out to put his hand on her shoulder.

It felt like a dream sequence in his head, so hazy and faraway now that it's over, and he was so stunned by what she was doing, he didn't run after her until a few seconds later. There was a delay in which he stood there in surprise and tried to process what the hell just happened to no avail. Though it wasn't very long, he remembers it feeling like eternity tucked into the cramped space of four seconds.

JJ's voice is softer than she's ever heard it, asking into the void of the near-darkness that encloses them, "What'd I do?" And it breaks her heart in half to hear him sound so concerned, so terrified of the idea that he did something to hurt her when all he did was try to help. "I never meant to scare you, I swear. I know how bad it can get sometimes, and I know we haven't been talking but I'd never try to hurt you if that's what you thought..."

His thoughts run rampant with the possibilities of what she was thinking at the time, and he realizes that he can't stand the idea of her thinking anything badly of him. He never cares about what people think, but, fuck, he loathes the idea of her having any ill feelings toward him.

Y/N immediately starts shaking her head, her face scrunching with the emotion and incessant tears.

"I know you'd never hurt me. I was scared because..." she stops herself mid sentence, catching it right when she was about to admit the one thing she promised herself she wouldn't.

But the need to say it doesn't go away this time. Usually, once she catches herself she comes to her senses and realizes how foolish it would've been to confess, but this time is different. This time, the urge to speak her mind and tell him everything sticks around. The words left unsaid creep up her throat, thrashing and begging to let out after months of being pushed aside.

The look in her eyes is strangely reminiscent of the way she looked at him the night they hooked up, almost yearning in its nature, and he couldn't be more confused. She's scared of him, but she's looking at him like she did when she was two seconds away from jumping his bones. And if he didn't do anything wrong, why was she afraid enough to face her worst fear in order to avoid him?

"Because what?" he asks.

That frustration from when they first stepped into the porch hasn't vanished, it only took a backseat once she said she was afraid of him, not the storm, and he can feel it stirring up again. He's tired of not having answers. He's tired of mixed signals and loneliness and unrequited love. Most of all, he's tired of her running away all the time. At this point, he questions whether or not it's worth it to expose his feelings to her and suffer the consequences.

John B was right. This isn't healthy for them, nor is it healthy for them to put their friends through this along with them, and it might be better to not be friends than to stay this way forever. At least that way they wouldn't be wishing for answers that would never come for the rest of their time together.

She decides at this moment that this has to be said before it gets worse, before she runs away again like a scared, immature child and ruins everything.

"Because," she has to shout over the lightning that cracks down on the earth down the street, something she would be trembling in fear over if she weren't so focused on him, "I've been in love with you for a couple months and it scares me more than anything, even this stupid fucking storm! And I've tried so hard to ignore it because I know you don't feel the same way, but you touched me and I just"—a soft cry escapes her—"I couldn't do it anymore."

There it is.

After months of ruminating over it and hiding everything, he knows, and her immediate feeling after she says it isn't what she thought it would be. She expected trepidation and regret, but what she finds on the other side isn't either of those, it's relief. Her dad often tells her when she's nervous about something that the anticipation is worse than the thing itself, and that has never been as true her as it is now.

However, some of the nerves return with the time that passes after she spoke in complete silence. Much like the delayed reaction he had to her running out of the house, it isn't as long as it feels to her. It's a short span of time that it takes for her words to process with him, but it feels like an eternity that he stands there with his head facing the floor in quiet contemplation.

Her heart sinks.

This means he doesn't feel the same way, doesn't it? If he were the one telling her he loved her, she likely would've leaped into his arms and said it back, but he stays where he is.

Then, after what feels like forever, she thinks she sees him start to smile and feels like she's losing her mind. It's quite dark out here, so there's only a limited amount of light to allow her to see his features, but there's no doubting it when a flash of lightning floods the porch with a split-second of harsh light.

Oh God, why is he smiling? What does it mean?

Much to her frustration, the first thing he says after her confession isn't much help in making her understand his feelings either.

"Why didn't you just talk to me?"

Why? The voice in the back of her mind asks incredulously. Is he seriously asking why? He ignored me too. He didn't want to talk about it either, so what else was I supposed to do?

Maybe she was undeniably worse when it came to the avoidance and lack of communication, but he could've reached out to her too. They both could've. Instead, they spent day after day waiting for the other to make the move and pushed the tension further and further until it finally broke. Now she's waiting for him to hurry up and reject her so she can move on with her life.

She shivers from the wind blowing at her wet skin through the screens separating them from the outside world, crossing her arms over her body to hug herself. His eyes follow her movements down to the breaths that are slowly evening out without her realizing it. It turns out that confessing your love for the guy you've been crushing on since the day you met him is a hell of a distraction.

"I thought you wouldn't wanna hear me being all emotional and shit over a one time thing. You've literally never had an actual relationship before. And that's fine," she rambles, "I'll be okay eventually, but that's not who you are and there isn't a problem with that. I just caught feelings when I shouldn't have."

In her defense, she isn't making baseless assumptions about him, he hasn't had a relationship before. His love life hasn't ever really revolved around love itself, it was mostly comprised of random chicks he'd meet at parties or at the beach during the summertime when tourists come to visit the island. Out of all of them, he's the last one the Pogues would expect to fall in love with someone and commit to a relationship, but then...

He looks over at her with a swell of emotion within him that he's never felt before. It wasn't like he hadn't known before now. He did. He even said it out loud to himself that morning after the party, but this is when it feels the most real. Now that she's said it to him, he doesn't feel so stupid for toying with the four letter word in the back of his mind for the entirety of the past week.

In all honesty, he was the last person he would've expected to fall in love with someone this quickly too. He thought he knew himself better than this. He thought he could keep himself hidden away and not let anyone close enough to see him—the real him, faults and feelings and vulnerability included—but she proved him wrong. In walked Y/N with her pretty smile, teeny bikini bottoms, and oddly strong opinions on Ratatouille, and he stood no chance.

This sudden crescendo of emotion only continues to grow when he watches her shiver, soaked to the skin, across from him and decides that he never wants to deny himself of her again. Those feelings of inadequacy that forced him to question his relationship with her may not have gone away, not by a long shot, but they can't stop him anymore. Nothing can.

Like a light flickering to life in this swirling, stormy darkness, she hears JJ's voice asking her, "What if it is who I am?"

It was said so softly, she nearly lost it beneath the rain and wind. But it was not said with a lack of certainty, which is why she questions if she heard him correctly. He sounded so sure of himself that it feels too good to be true. After his reaction, or lack thereof, to her telling him she loved him, she accepted what was coming and this was not it.

"What?"

He doesn't miss a beat.

"You heard me." There's a pause. "Maybe I needed to meet the right girl."

There is no way he's saying what she thinks he's saying because if he is...if he is then that means the tears and frustration have all been for nothing because he loves her back. But if he loves her, then what was with the kook girl? Was it to make her jealous, or is she misinterpreting him right now and he was flirting with that girl because he doesn't have real feelings for her?

"JJ..." she trails off, looking down and thinking to herself how thankful she is that it's too dark for him to fully see how nervous he made her, "don't do that."

Partly, he should feel offended that she'd think he'd toy with her feelings like that, but he isn't. He's too busy wondering what on earth made this poor girl so insecure to think that someone has to be joking to confess their love to her. It makes him wonder if anyone wronged her before she moved here, and he feels that switch of impulsive anger inside of him flip at the thought.

But that anger has nowhere to go, so it shifts into something different—a need to spend every waking moment of the rest of their time together proving to her that she doesn't have to be so afraid. Does it make him a hypocrite? Probably. It wasn't too long ago that he was telling the Pogues how much he didn't deserve to be with her, but he doesn't see himself the same way he sees her. In his head, he has reasons to believe he doesn't deserve her love, but how could she ever think that herself?

He steps closer to her, the movement something so natural and unconscious to him that he doesn't recognize he does it until he hears her breath hitch in the back of her throat. They were already close enough to reach out and touch each other if they wanted to, yet now it's the kind of closeness that wipes the slate of her mind clean with nothing else but the thought of him there to stay.

He starts to say, "I'm not fucking with you, dude, I'm being serious—"

"Then prove it."

Oh.

The sound of his unfinished sentence lingers on the tip of his tongue as he blinks away his surprise at what she said, though it was less of a statement and more of a challenge. What the challenge is, he isn't too sure, but he thinks there could be a couple of meanings there.

The fire in her eyes when she looked up at him is one he recognizes very well, it stars in one too many of his daydreams that center around their secret night together. She rose to the occasion without fail and matched his chaos every time, and that steely-eyed stare is reminiscent of it.

Yet, the sexual undertone isn't the only part of it to be discovered. There's a clear meaning there for him to actually prove it, to put his money where his mouth is, grow a pair, and tell her how he feels with no room for confusion. No more miscommunication, running away, or insecurity getting between them, just a clear cut confession like hers.

His hand runs through his hair to sweep it out of his eyes and keep the wet strands from dripping down his face. It helps him see her a little better too, grounding him to the moment and calming him at the dimmed sight of her expectant, wide eyed gaze.

There were a million versions of this whenever he let himself imagine admitting it. He only let himself picture it on the worst days, days like the one two days ago when he went home to his dad, ending the night by cleaning his own cuts and inspecting his own bruises in his locked bedroom. He did it to distract himself from wanting to storm out of the room and finally kill the son of a bitch after years of suffering in silence.

JJ closed his eyes, shaking with anger, and dreamed of how he'd tell her. There were versions with long speeches that were far too sappy to exist outside of the realm of his imagination. There were versions with him burying the words between friendly jokes to play down the extent of his feelings too, but he thought it worked best in its simplest form.

So he puts it as simply as it gets, lips fighting a soft smile as he crosses the space between them and rushes in to kiss her. It's charged with an accumulation of the pent up love, anger, and sexual desire that has been repressed until now, resulting in something utterly explosive.

He stops for a second to whisper, "I love you too," into her parted lips, and she finally lets herself go at the sound of those words.

Forget that they've only known each other for five months, when you know you know. This is the real deal. This is the kind of feeling that possesses every accessible inch of her heart and she'd never be open enough to admit that to anyone but him at the moment, but neither of them minds that. It's such a new, rapidly developing feeling that they want to protect it and keep it close to them for the time being.

His arms twine around her waist, tugging her the last bit forward and leaving no space between their bodies this time. The sudden movement draws a sharp gasp from the back of her throat and sends her hands out to brace themselves on his shoulders. The sound of the gasp that disappears into their connected mouths only fuels him on more. It makes him more eager with how he touches her with his hands drifting down the plane of her back, one of which playfully slipping beneath the hem of her soaked shirt in a way that makes her smile into the kiss.

He knows exactly what he does to her. He can sense it in the small reactions that would often go overlooked if it were someone less familiar with her.

It's easy to tell by the way she completely surrenders herself to him, letting out these soft little noises she doesn't even realize she's making when he takes control of the interaction and kisses her like he's starved for it. In a way, he is starving for affection and attention from her. He never knew it was something he needed so badly until he got it, and now he never wants to go without having her again.

That's why it doesn't surprise him when she starts getting antsy after a moment or two, especially after keeping away from him for days.

Her hands run down the length of his chest over the soaked t-shirt, taking a quiet victory in how his stomach flinches inward in response to her exploring touch, and she could swear his next exhale trembles as she continues lower. Never once does she break the kiss, which, by the way, has gone past the point of being passionate and straight to downright needy, but her concentration does falter. The perfectly paced rhythm of her mouth moving with his is interrupted when she touches him over the fabric of his shorts.

Those plushy soft lips go on an exploration of their own too. Leaving him with the first opportunity to catch his breath in minutes, she dips her head beneath the sharp edge of jaw in pursuit of the sweet spot she remembers reducing him to a grabby, moaning mess the last time they did this. It doesn't take her long, not if the tightening of his arms around her and the satisfied hum of a moan she feels vibrate beneath her mouth has anything to say for it.

He loses himself in it for a second or two...okay, fine, maybe ten.

The separate sensations combined spark a flame inside of him that burns so hopelessly for whatever she'll give him. His mind sends him images of them together, both real memories from their first time together and imagined fantasies he only let himself visit in his dreams, and he realizes how thinly spread his self control has become lately.

First, it's the thought of her from last week, thoughts of her gasping, writhing, and begging beneath him that makes his cock throb under the teasing contact of her hand through his shorts. But then he's brought elsewhere. Then, though he hasn't thought of it since the day after the party, he thinks of the mix of jealousy and anger he felt when he saw Tyler with her.

He remembers being sane one moment and charging across the room like a madman the next. He remembers how it felt to watch another person's hands slip under her dress, how it felt to see someone else try to kiss her the way he had, and this raw wound of a memory is all it takes to spur him into action.

It happens so quickly, she doesn't even notice what's happening until he has her scooped up in his arms with her legs around his waist. She doesn't even have the chance to voice her surprise or crack a joke at the expense of his neediness before he reconnects their paused kiss with enough force to make her teeth ache in the collision.

JJ's rings are colder than ice, digging into the flesh of her thighs as he holds them with a tight grip and blindly takes the few steps necessary to reach the back entrance of the house. His wet handprint smudges on one of the cracked-open glass doors and sends droplets of water dribbling down the surface. The teardrop of rain zig-zags at the swinging motion of the door on their way in, only changing course again when he nudges it shut behind him a little too loudly.

"Wh"—her question is cut off by him laying her down on the rug-covered floor in between the couch and coffee table—"What if John B wakes up?"

His first thought was to bring her into the spare bedroom, but then he realized that it shares a wall with John B. Then, he considered the pull out couch but realized that would be louder than the room adjacent to their friend's. His only conclusion was this.

It isn't nearly as romantic as either of them would've pictured, but they're not exactly picky either. They're so desperate for it, they'd likely do it on the porch in the middle of a hurricane if there weren't another option. And in their own weird way, they make it romantic.

There's no one else she'd rather risk rug burn for, and that is the peak of romance.

"John B sleeps like a fuckin' rock," JJ says, "and it's own his fault for trapping us here anyway."

He follows her down onto the floor without a second thought, not even looking up to see if they woke their friend with the sound of the door shutting behind them.

Hovered above her, he looks particularly captivating in the flickering candlelight. The fire burning in one of the three-wick candles they scoured the bathroom cabinets for brings out the warm hues in his blonde hair and highlights every edge of the angular face that looks down at her. The porch was far too dark for her to see him in all of his near-perfection, but this is enough for her to notice a multitude of things.

His slicked back, wet hair allows her to see his features better and the way he looks at her...it's enough to make anyone feel red in the face. How hadn't she see it before? She knows it was denial, but, somehow, she used to overlook the small hints along the way like how he looks at her like she's the only thing that makes sense to him. For the first time in a while, she allows herself to embrace the idea of being loved without looking for something to justify her fears surrounding it.

The sound of her voice brings him out of the mesmerized trance he fell under at the sight of her.

"I've missed you," she says softly, "like a lot."

The sweet admission slows him down for a second, making him stop to ignore the distracting desire that she sparked to life a moment ago and take the time to cherish this moment of rare serenity with her.

It's a wonder that she hasn't even acknowledged the storm raging on outside since they've come back in. It's all thanks to him, of course, since she's been too focused on everything happening between them, but it surprises him. It makes a sense of pride flare up in him on her behalf for being capable of forgetting something she fears so much.

But, on the other hand, it reminds him of how distraught she was right before their conversation/argument on the porch shifted from her panic to the topic of their relationship, and he can't help but hesitate a little.

"I missed you too." The hand he isn't using to support himself above her cups her face, his thumb tracing the line of her cheekbone. "Are you okay though? You were just crying and I don't wanna make you—"

"Yes."

It was so said so quickly, there was zero hesitation. It's not that it doesn't surprise him that she's as eager as he is after what started to happen out on the porch, but it does make his eyes widen a little. His mouth curls with a slight grin. It's the kind that never fails to make her stomach fluttering and light with butterflies.

"You don't have to worry about me. I'm okay, and I promise I'll let you know if I'm not," Y/N clarifies.

"Okay."

There's a short moment where all they do is look at each other with a complete loss for words to convey what they feel right now. It isn't as awkward as it would've been prior to tonight. Before they confessed their feelings, they wouldn't have been able to look at one another for any longer than a few seconds without needing to walk away to break the tension. Now, things have changed. They don't feel the need to conceal how much they care anymore.

They're still the same bickering duo they've always been with the added fun of being head over heels. She never used to understand how some people could let their feelings for another person drive them crazy, but it's done more than make her crazy this past week. It made her jealous, obsessive, and somehow happy too, and no one has ever made her feel so many varying emotions in her life.

Her fingertips graze the stretch of skin between where his cargo shorts sit on his hips and his shirt rides up the side of his torso, and he swallows thickly at the feeling.

"Do I make you nervous?" she asks.

Her lilting, smooth voice is enough to soothe any nerves he could possibly have. It's as if hearing her ask that paired with the hand teasing the waistband of his shorts pulled him back to the place he'd been before when she was teasing him over his clothes.

He answers honestly, his head going fuzzy with the crushing desire that courses through him, "Not as nervous as I make you," and closes the space between them again.

The cheeky comment doesn't go unnoticed by her, not one bit. It makes her face heat up in embarrassment that is purely instinct after having to hide her feelings from her for so long. Maybe after they've been together for longer, it won't make her blush every time he acknowledges the effect he has on her out loud, but that day isn't today. Today, she goes hot in the face from a sole second of his attention, let alone this.

JJ lets his hand climb up the length of her torso as they kiss as if they have all the time in the world, as if their best friend isn't sleeping less than twenty feet away from them, until it flattens at the base of her neck. It doesn't curl around her neck and squeeze, nor does it do anything but remind her how much she loves the feeling of him touching her, the large palm of his hand simply stays draped over her throat to flaunt his ability to sway her nerves.

She's pretty sure if it were anyone else, it wouldn't work, but he's JJ for fuck's sake, and the quiet display of dominance sends an exhilarating little thrill rumbling through her. It isn't anything over the top or exaggerated like some people would do in an attempt to stake a claim over the person they love, just a simple gesture that they both know the meaning of.

She's his. After five months of friendship, two months of silent pining, and a week of sexually confused hell, she's his, and he'll never let her forget it.

The wind rattles the windows over the couch with its force and she notices that his hips grind into hers at the sudden sound. Even in the midst of such a heated moment, it's downright cute how he still makes an effort to distract her from what she fears. And, boy, does it work.

Their panting breaths in the brief seconds they allow themselves to break away from each other are the only sounds audible in the small living room. The storm drowns it all out for now, including the noises that start to leave them from the steadily building pleasure of their bodies moving together.

She can feel how hard he is through the layers that separate them with every absentminded thrust that brushes the fabric of her panties up against her clit each time. It leaves her breathless and wondering, despite already knowing, what it'll feel like when he finally slips inside of her again.

They both fantasized about it in the time they spent apart. Neither of them would dare deny it, least of all JJ. It actually became frustrating after a while because she started to become the only scenario he could conjure to get himself off when he had a rare moment of privacy. His fantasies, all stemming from the night that was so perfect, he began to question the reality of it, linger in his head.

The best part of his fantasies were the parts of them based in truth, and if he knows anything about her when she's in this state, it's that she's needy. Her tongue swipes along his bottom lip in a silent urging to let her deepen the kiss, and he complies without a second to spare, willing to entertain her every whim so long as she keeps being so good for him.

He revels in her muffled squeak of a moan when he presses down on the sides of her throat at the precise moment his hips grind down to meet hers. She can't keep herself still for any longer than a half-second, always meeting his movements halfway and unknowingly doing another thing that will be the death of him.

She leads his shirt up his body without having to second guess herself, knowing that he's always on the same wavelength as her no matter what. This was how it was the last time too. Anything she did, he was already one step ahead, and tonight isn't much different. By the time her hands ball up the dripping cotton fabric, JJ is lifting the hand off of her neck to reach for the neckline of the shirt and help tug it off.

There's a sense of urgency in everything they do. Charged up with frustration and jealousy that brewed within the days they spent apart, there's nothing to stop them from reducing themselves to a pair of panting, impatient lovers too consumed in each other to care about the outside world.

The sopping wet fabric is thrown beyond her line of sight and lands on the hardwood floor with a 'thwack' that accompanies their cacophony of moans and gasps, and she whimpers at the sight of him. It may have to do with the fact that he's guiding their bodies together at a cadence and pressure perfect enough to make her legs tremble, but seeing him like this does nothing but aid the sensation.

Golden skin glistening under the candlelight, tendrils of half-dry blonde hair falling into his face with the lazy effort of his movements, and a stray raindrop that squeezed from the wet shirt dripping down his chest...she's not gonna make it out of tonight alive, is she? In her memory, she knew he was a sight to see in the midst of a heated moment, but, fuck, memories do not hold up beside the real experience of it.

Y/N is so caught up in his seemingly endless beauty, she doesn't notice him peeling her damp denim shorts off of her hips until they're halfway down her legs, and the only reason she does notice is because he must shift his position to do it. Suddenly, the budding feeling that stirred from their needy antics is plucked away and left to ache for more in the absence of him between her thighs.

Her middle and index fingers hook around the front of his necklace to pull him back down to her, but he doesn't budge at first. He's too busy trying to rid her of her shirt to care.

It was too much of a distraction while they kissed for him to resist slipping it off of her when he got the chance to. Much to his frustration when he first realized they were trapped with each other, she's braless underneath, and it's only worse now that the t-shirt is soaked to her skin and clinging to every delicate curve.

Once the clothing gives way to the canvas of her bare skin, he submits to her urgency and follows her down by the fingers hooked around his necklace without any qualms.

As soon as they resume, it's as if they never stopped to begin with, and they start to realize how seamlessly they fit together as the seconds elapse. Neither of them are actively thinking about it while he dips his hand into the front of her panties, but it is in their subconscious.

It's a revelation of sorts, an ah-ha moment where it hits them both in a sweeping realization that it was obvious from the day they met. They should've known sooner, they should've dropped their pride and admitted it as soon as the first inklings of desire began to pop up, but they didn't. Instead, it washes over them now and they let the current take them away together.

Her mouth falls open against his cheek at the feeling of his fingers swiping through the arousal that pools in her underwear for him, dragging the wetness over his fingertips and spreading it up to brush fleetingly against her clit. It's a split-second of a touch that it makes her hips lift up off the floor on their own accord to seek out more. It makes her dig her nails into the skin stretching over his taut shoulder muscles in a wordless plea for more that he doesn't indulge her in at first.

He makes her earn it from him without having to say a single word. He touches her, but he doesn't touch where she wants or ease his fingers into her to satisfy the need she feels yet. It's a blessing and a curse that he manages to turn her on to such an extent. He does it for her like nothing else can, so much so that she's noticed a distinct difference in how it feels when she's alone versus when they're together. When she's alone, it can tend to feel like active effort, but when she's with him, it's as natural as the urge to breathe.

His smirk is felt against her skin the entire time she begs for it through the revealing actions of her body—her hips jerking up toward him, her chest pressing tightly to his, and the sound of her murmuring, "Please," in a breathy tone that could stop his heart.

"Tell me what you want," JJ says, every word constrained and tight in a way that tells her he's a lot less composed than he lets on, and "accidentally" swipes his thumb over her clit again. "Talk to me, baby."

She almost forgot in their time apart how much of an effect he has on her, but this is the best reminder of that she could possibly imagine. If she could, she would find a way to bottle the feeling he gives her and keep it with her forever so that, no matter what happens between them, she'll never have the misfortune of forgetting him.

What he said simultaneously melts her heart and frustrates her to no end because he knows! He knows damn well what she wants from him and won't give it to her unless she asks for it, and she hates herself for loving it. She hates herself for enjoying the flushed-face embarrassment it brings to her cheeks to be so open with him about what she needs.

She swallows the lump in her throat and tries to focus through the clouded landscape of her head to speak to him. It's hard to concentrate when he's above her like this, touching her, calling her pet names, and looking at her like that.

With his lips worshiping the sensitive skin along her neck, she finds it hard to choke out the words, "I want you," into the humid air that has infiltrated the house.

It's not a lie. Anything regarding her wanting him or any related feeling is no longer something she can hide anymore, but they both know it isn't exactly what he wanted. No matter how it took his breath away to hear her say it, he was seeking something more specific. He was aiming to make her ask, maybe even beg, for it. They're both too impatient to wait and based on how wet his fingertips are from barely dipping into her, he can tell she's as eager as he is.

It's been thirteen days too long since the last time they allowed themselves to meet this way, and neither of them wants to let it happen again.

She was nearly trembling with the urge to go to him whenever they were together in the company of their friends, unable to think about anything except for how badly she wanted him. All the while, he appeared so unbothered, especially on the night of the party when he flirted with someone else, that she didn't even believe he felt the same way back. Thankfully for her, she couldn't have been more wrong.

He clicks his tongue and says, still teasing her with light touches that never linger in one place for too long, "That wasn't very specific."

Part of her should know that he's about to do something based on how he withdraws his head from its cherished place in the crook of her neck, but she's too caught up in the anticipation and seeing his face for the first time in a minute to think about it. How dare he look so good? She could cry in frustration, although she might actually already be tearing up a little with the rush of neediness hitting her in its full force.

Never has she felt so turned on by so little physical contact before. It usually takes longer for her to get to this point, whether it be alone or in the past with previous partners, yet all it took was being kissed, touched, and being given his undivided attention and now...She realizes she's in trouble. He has her in an emotional and sexual chokehold at this point, and she fears that no one can compare.

"I want—" her voice is snuffed out in an instant when he eases two fingers into her, "Oh!"

So that's why he pulled away from her neck to look at her.

It was worth abandoning the mark forming on her neck just to see the expression on her face shift. She gets this cute look when anything overwhelming starts to happen where her brows scrunch a little to create a soft wrinkle between them as her mouth drops open in a moan. And after ten steady minutes of doing nothing but some over the clothes action and painstaking teasing, this is as overwhelming as it gets without it crossing the line to being too much.

It never occurred to her how much larger his fingers are compared to hers until now. This type of pleasure is like an itch only someone else can scratch to her, she feels virtually nothing when she does it to herself, but when he does it, it's like an explosive being set off inside of her. Especially with the thumb that sneaks up to circle her clit without stopping to tease her again, she is putty in his hands at this point.

Every smooth stroke of his fingers into her reaches a spot she can never quite find on her own, and she can feel the cold bite of rings when they're buried into her to the knuckle.

It's a surprise every time, even when she knows to expect it. Like a delightful chill running up through her body and down her spine exactly how it's intended to. It strikes an idea in her head for when he eventually pulls them out of her, conjuring the image of her sucking them clean for him just for the sake of imagining what it'll do to him.

With that idea tucked away in the back of her mind, he's the center of her world right now. All she breathes, thinks, and feels is him. Whether it be the sight of him, or the feelings he's giving her, or even the taste of his kiss that still lingers on her tongue, it connects to one common thread.

"What were you saying?" JJ asks, and she wants to wipe that smirk right off his face.

It's virtually impossible for her to piece together a coherent thought, let alone a sentence detailing every filthy idea she has for him, but she tries. It takes another moment or two of her succumbing to the rapid incline of pleasure that he gives her, watching her in wonder through any greedy buck of her hips or gasping inhale that makes her head loll back onto the floor.

At first, what she wanted to say was that she wanted him to touch her, to do anything more than the fleeting touches he gave before. Now, she wants more than that. Now that she's drawn in closer to the eventual high that's to come, she doesn't want it to happen like this. She wants to feel closer to him than this, wants to feel him throb inside of her and fuck her with all of the urgency and desperation that has accumulated in their time apart.

That's why her hands start to grab at the belt loops of his shorts to tug him closer by them, meeting his gaze through the hazy bliss of his fingers pumping into her. It's not enough.

"Please"—she keeps pulling him closer to her, so close that there's hardly any space left to cross, and he revels in her desperation—"just fuck me already..."

Internally, JJ is losing his shit.

Though this was what he wanted, what he coaxed out of her with the teasing and the pretend sense of a nonchalant attitude on his part, it hits him harder than he expected it to to hear her say it. It's not necessarily the act of begging itself either, it's the fact that she's the one doing it. She may have been jealous of the girl at the party, but she had nothing to worry about. Not in the slightest.

Before her, he never thought he'd fall for someone this way. It's not like he had a hatred for love or anything, he understood the appeal, it simply wasn't his thing.

He was perfectly content with his only form of companionship being his friends. Then, she came along and changed it. So to hear her say something like that isn't just breathtaking, it's the kind of thing that makes his heart ache for her. It hits him precisely where she wanted it to, and he has never felt as consumed with love the way he does now.

JJ can do nothing to stop himself from pouncing on her at this point, like some animalistic form of himself has worn down the restraint he used to keep himself at bay.

The loss she feels when his fingers slip away from her is an emptiness she mourns at first before she realizes what's happening. He pulls away slightly to reach down between them for the front of his shorts, and their hands clash as they both frantically try to undo them together. The rings adorning his fingers glisten when they catch the light and remind her of the thought that popped into her head when she first felt their coldness against her skin.

That idea paired with the promise of what they're trying to accomplish in their uncoordinated attempt to get the rest of their clothes off makes her want to press her thighs together. Her hands abandon the task of undoing his shorts for the sake of ridding herself of the last layer that separates her from him.

Her most embarrassing old pair of brightly colored panties, courtesy of past Y/N's questionable decision to trust her mom to buy some on her behalf, are hardly a sight to behold. They're the kind that come in a value pack from Walmart, vibrant blue with the word, "Tuesday," printed on the front of them, and she could hide her face into the rug in shame if she weren't so determined to get them off. Of all the days to wear the day of the week undies her mom accidentally got her, of course she chose today.

By the time she reaches for the waistband, he has pushed his shorts and underwear down his thighs and comes back to her with just as much excitement as he left with, but when he helps her tug her panties down her legs, he laughs. Apparently, he had also been too eager to touch her to notice what was written on them before.

"Cute," he breathes out through a laugh, then adds as the cotton fabric slips over her knees, "Pretty sure it's not Tuesday though."

"If you tell anyone, I swear I'll—"

He cuts her off, "Whatever you wanna threaten me with won't work, chances are I'm gonna be into it."

Her eyes are alight with a certain fire he's had yet to fully lure out of her. Even her voice is slightly more airy and seductive as a result of it.

"Promise?"

JJ grins down at her as he finally tosses her panties aside with the rest of their clothes, "Cross my heart, pretty girl."

His hands grip her thighs and tug her down the  rug to him with a quick jolt that snaps them out of the playful nature of their back and forth teasing. No matter how lighthearted of an interruption it was, the mini-conversation might as well have never existed for how easily they fall back into it again.

She watches with her forehead pressed against his as he strokes himself a few times, then drags his tip, messy with precome, through her wet heat. And though she watches it happen, her body still arches into his when he lines up with her and sinks his hips forward.

She anticipated it, but she still gasps and digs her nails into his biceps at the sensation of him pushing into her. Neither of them bothers to worry about the obvious lack of a condom—it was discussed the first time around when he offered and she told him it was okay. He's often the one to silence the alarm on her phone warning her in its title to, "Take your birth control or else, bitch," while she searches her bag for it anyway, so he trusts her.

Both of them prefer it this way enough to risk the  minuscule failure rate of the pill anyway. It's more intimate, closer, and they can both feel the warmth of each other in a way that would've been somewhat muted with an added layer between them. It makes the feeling of him entering her all the more gratifying as she tenses up around him in reaction, drawing a groan from where his parted lips brush against hers.

She lifts her head off of the floor as much as she can to capture his mouth with her own and stifle the sonorous sound despite the storm doing a better job of it.

It seems that every blast of wind and roll of thunder is in their favor tonight, so much so that he isn't even worried about getting walked in on. It's not a thought in his head at this point, the only thought he's capable of having is this. Forgive him for being shortsighted, but he doesn't give a shit if John B notices or hears what's happening when he's buried inside of her so deeply.

His hips are flush with the backs of her thighs in a matter of seconds, and right when he pauses to give her a breather, he feels her shake her head ever so slightly against where their faces are pressed together.

The touch of her hands on his hips is not timid by any means, it's commanding. Her palm prints singe an indelible claim into the surface of his skin as she guides him to start moving without a second spared to dwindle the discomfort of him filling her up. It's less like a pain and more of a pressure blooming from the insistent presence of him, not so overwhelming that it's painful, but it's an effort to breathe evenly and the only thing that'll ease this transitional moment is to continue.

At first, their bodies start to rock together lazily as though on autopilot. They'd hardly be conscious of the fact that they're doing anything if not for the initial sensations of heady ecstasy that flash like the sparks of a lighter in response to their movements. As soon as he felt her hands coax him into action, he sighed happily and surrendered himself to the instinct of wanting to move.

The merging of their bodies is less of the aggressive rutting motions they'll surely succumb to once their current pace is no longer satisfying, but that doesn't make it any less intense. She's partly sure that this is one of the most vulnerable moments either of them has ever had when it comes to sex, and it wouldn't work if it weren't them together. No other person could consume her the way he does, taking up every unoccupied space of her soul until there's nothing left but the silent begging of her heart for him.

Their kiss is messy when it breaks to allow them the chance to suck down a couple breaths of air, saliva shining on his lips in between the seconds it takes them to come crashing back together.

It's loving enough to rot her teeth with its sweetness, a slow but impossibly deep grinding of their hips together that continually presses the tip of him into that sweet spot inside of her, but it takes a turn.

Not only do her hands shift from his hips up to the sides of his waist to get a firmer hold on him, the kiss starts to become vigorous, almost hungry, in search of something more. The dreamlike sequence of the first moment or so they spent slowly fucking under the warm hues of candlelight starts to unravel to reveal the baser instincts that guide them forward.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he whispers the praise into her mouth.

As soon as the words are said, he can feel the effect it has on her. The hands braced on his waist pull his body closer to her at the same moment that she involuntarily squeezes down around him, making the smooth drag of his cock against the velvet-soft heat of her walls even tighter than he thought possible.

The sudden feeling of it makes his first returning thrust much harder than the last. He jerks forward into her with none of the restraint he's retained for the past few moments, and her reaction is nothing short of perfection, at least from his perspective. He watches her throw her head back in a moan, hips bucking to him in pursuit of more, and feels the tips of her fingernails digging crescent-shaped marks into the unmarred skin along his waist.

"JJ!" she gasps in surprise, and if her initial reaction weren't enough to spur him on in a frenzied state of desire, this is.

He almost forgot how intense it had been the first time. Their confessions of love preceding this made them both somewhat softer and sweeter in their approach when they started, but he knows how she likes it.

Nobody would expect it from her. He's another story entirely, especially considering how much John B and Pope know about him, but her? He didn't have any in depth conversations about it with either of them, so none of their friends know how dirty she is.

But when you start to tease it out of her, she's got a side to her that makes his blood run hot. Considering how polite she is, he sure as hell didn't see it coming. For fuck's sake, she's the kind of person who'll apologize to a chair if she bumps into it. With that in mind he never thought she'd be the type to demand such things of him.

Just like that, with one moan of his name, it's like she flipped a switch in him that they forgot was there in the first place. It'll never stop surprising him how little it takes to get him going when he's with her, and he doesn't see that changing no matter how long they spend together in the future. Just a touch from her is all it takes, so it's needless to say that the sound of her calling out his name was more than enough.

Those slow, deep movements he made to sink into her again and again have turned rapid and rough, but still controlled enough to have a semblance of precision to them, hitting in all the right places.

"I bet," JJ speaks lowly, "that you want John B to walk out and see us right now."

She doesn't want to admit how much of an instantaneous effect those words have on her, but the feeling of her clenching around him as she bites back a moan completely betrays her. Partly, she worries that he'll take that the wrong way and think it has something to do with John B when it has nothing to do with him at all, but he doesn't. For the spare second of thought she's allowed to have before her mind goes hazy again, she notes how much more eager he is on the upstroke of the next thrust.

Noticing how right he was in his assumption about her liking the risk of getting caught jumpstarts his heart and makes everything he does rougher. She can sense that he's starting to lose control over himself and is acting on instinct alone.

It makes her much more sensitive to everything he does, and all she can do is cling to him and enjoy it as she takes in everything he says and does. It's hard to pick one thing to focus on between the switch up in pace and what he said.

"You want John B to know you like getting fucked like a slut, don't you?"

She could get off on the sound of his voice alone. Hearing him say stuff like that kills her, it makes the swirling bliss that builds in the pit of her abdomen with every thrust he gives her triple in its extremity.

Her legs are tightly wound around his hips to keep him as near to her as possible, her hands sliding up around his waist to keep a steady grasp on him while he pounds into her. The rug scratches at her back enough to make it sting alongside the immense pleasure building in her, but she doesn't care. When blended with the good sensations, the pain underscores the addictive feeling of him inside of her, fucking her exactly how she asked him too.

Looking up at him when he's like this is simply unreal. There's no other way of describing it in her eyes except for that. He's so stunning, she's inclined to believe that he isn't even real as a means of explaining it. This shouldn't be real. It should be one of her daydreams while she steals covert stares at him as they hang out with the Pogues, but it isn't. She can't wrap her head around it.

Those strands of hair that were damp from the rain are mostly dry as they fall into his eyes with the force of his movements. The sight of him alone, set aside from the rest of it, is enough to make her writhe beneath him and claw at his back in tandem with another thrust that sends her jolting against the rug.

He takes one of his hands up from where they both held her hips for leverage to weave his fingers into the roots of her hair.

He demands between the panting breaths and moans that flood the limited space between them, tugging on her hair, "Answer me."

She instantly blurts out the words, "I want him to see us." The feeling of him tilting her head back by the fistful of hair he has wrapped up in his hand is her persistent reminder to concentrate enough to continue, and she bites down on her lip to contain a moan before speaking again, "I want him to know..."

Her cheeks burn with the mere thought of it, let alone saying it out loud. He's the only person she'd ever let in on this intimate side of her, the side that makes her crazy when she hears him say stuff like this. The reason she feels so comfortable doing this with him is that she knows he understands her. It's as if he can read her mind without even having to try, knowing exactly what to say and when to say it.

It wouldn't matter if the topic of their exhibitionism were any other Pogue or a stranger, it isn't about who it is, it's about the thrill attached to the concept of almost getting seen during such a heated moment. In all actuality, John B is probably snoring face down into his pillow right now with no care for what's happening out here, but he knows what it does to her when they push the boundaries of decency this way. It's the same rush he gets from stealing random, useless things every so often, it's the thrill of getting away with something.

The hand tangled up in the roots of her hair sneaks down between their colliding bodies to rub her clit, and her mouth drops open to take in a shaky breath.

The sight of her beneath him is undoing in and of itself. Head tilted enough to expose her neck to him, chest rising and falling rapidly with her breaths, and breasts bouncing gently with the momentum of their actions—seeing her this way makes his thrusts ramp up into more of a frenzied, uncontainable pace rather than one with the same control and cadence as before. But it's mostly the eye contact that kills him. She doesn't dare to shut her eyes the entire time, as if she can sense that he'll tell her to look at him again the second she does.

"You want him to know what?" he asks, and she knows he won't let her get away with not saying it.

She whines, utterly helpless to the climax starting to build inside of her, "Please."

What she's pleading for, she isn't quite sure, but he can tell by how she's acting that she's starting to get closer, and he wants nothing more than to tease her with the impending chance of her orgasm.

"If you wanna come, you're gonna have to do a lot better than that."

Just like that, he withdraws his hand from between them and leaves her desperate, blindly grasping for the peak she was so close to reaching, she could almost feel it already.

With JJ rocking into her at a relaxed, slower rhythm, the pleasure hasn't disappeared completely. It's there, but she can sense the feeling of her orgasm receding as quickly as it had creeped up on her as soon as he slips his hand out from between them.

It's instantly clear to him how desperate she is as all of her previous shyness surrounding having to admit this to him out loud withers away in seconds. She isn't beneath begging again at this point. He could tell her to crawl across the floor to him and she'd happily do it for the chance of touching him. It's pathetic but true. As much as she has him wrapped around her finger, he has done the same to her and she isn't afraid to admit it anymore.

Her hips jerk toward him in search of the familiar frenzy they were in before that sent her to the brink of climax, but he is impressively stubborn. Despite the fact that it physically pains him to dial it back again, he tries to keep the signs of his own frustration at bay. She knew what she had to say to get what she wants, so he'll only cave when she does.

This time around, she doesn't give a fuck about how badly she blushes or the voice in the back of her mind telling her she should keep this side of her to herself. This time, the one thing she needs to do to prompt her to open her mouth and speak the dirty words he asked her less than a moment ago is look at him. One second of staring up at him and here she is, driven mad enough to say or do anything to get him to pick up where they left off.

She says between the soft noises and breaths coming from them both, clinging to him through every slow but deep thrust that sends sparks ricocheting through her body, "I want John B to know I like getting fucked like slut." Her voice is breathless, and he hangs off of each word as she pauses, looking up at him with a challenging attitude swirling in those pretty eyes. "So stop being a tease and fuck me like one."

His jaw clenches at the bratty statement, one he's too far gone to resist at this point, and right when he's about to respond to her, she speaks again.

"Either that," she says, and a deceptively sweet smile crosses her kiss-swollen lips, "or I can go ask him to—"

She doesn't even get the chance to voice the rest of that thought before he's set into motion.

The hands on her hips flip her over with such casual strength, all she can do is yelp in surprise at the sudden movement that blurs the living room in her peripheral version until she lands with her hands and knees pressing into the rug. He was so swift in pulling out of her and tossing her onto her front like she was nothing more than a rag doll, she hardly had the time to take a breath before she ended up here.

There's hardly any time between when he pulled out to flip her over and when he returns to her again, but it feels like an eternity for them. The few second transition might as well be a few years as she feels his hands guiding her body where he wants it, pushing down on her back until it arches just so, and falls down onto her arms. But as soon as she gets situated, she feels a pair of hands yanking her arms away from where they were braced against the floor and put them behind her back.

It's only then, when he has an unflinching grasp on where he keeps her wrists behind her back with one of his hands, that she is met with the relief of him sinking into her again.

Y/N's jaw goes slack, and she cries out into the rug that her cheek is pressed into as he gives her no chance to adjust or catch her breath before resuming the brutal pace they kept a moment ago. Mentioning anyone else but him doing this to her was the quickest way to get him to snap, so it's safe to say that she's getting what she wanted. After all, she did what he asked, it's fair that she gets rewarded for it.

Amidst the sounds of the storm waging war on the landscape outside of the house, the one thing she can hear over the buzzing pleasure that drowns out her senses is the sinful blend of sounds they create together. It's the sound of their bodies merging, his name falling from her lips, and the curses he makes under his breath that never fail to drive her a little wild.

The hand that isn't holding her arms behind her slides down the length of her curved back until it wraps around her throat to pin her down, and her reaction is everything he could ask for. Seeing her rock back against him to meet him halfway makes his grip on her wrists tighten enough to turn his knuckles white.

Her hair is spread in endless directions in a fan around her head, and he can only see one side of her face from where he kneels behind her, but that glimpse is more than enough. Brows scrunched in pleasure, mouth dropped open in a gape as soft 'uh's and 'ah's escape her on the upstroke of each thrust—she's a mess right now. A beautiful, perfect mess.

"Oh God, JJ," she moans between her rapid breaths and the strong hand constricting her neck, "I'm so close. Please, just let me come."

It took virtually nothing for her to be pushed right back to the edge of the peak she was at less than a minute ago. It took a mere half-minute of this and she's once again reduced to incoherent pleas for more and shaking with no control over herself. Her legs tremble with the effort to keep herself up in this position, and she isn't even the one doing most of the work. In all fairness, this change in position has made the intensity triple. It's deeper this way, and with how harshly he slams into her, it's as though she can feel it in the base of her abdomen.

It's the enjoyable type of pain, however, not the bad type. It'll surely end up with her being sore tomorrow, but she can't hide how much she loves the painful pleasure of how rough it's getting. Being denied an orgasm when she was so, so close to it was initially disappointing too, but it was worth it. If the build up to what would've been her climax before was a spark, this is a flourishing fire spreading through her with no chance of smothering the flames.

He lets go of her throat and taps the side of her jaw in a silent request that she picks up immediately, letting her lips fall open to suck his fingers into her mouth without a second of hesitation.

The taste of her arousal on them is faint, but still there, and it occurs to her that she thought about this earlier before things evolved into chaos. Her tongue swirls around the tips of his fingers as he starts to pull them away in what feels like the blink of an eye to her, leaving him to remember what it felt like when her lips were once wrapped around a more sensitive part of him a week and a half ago.

The one other time he let himself remember it was when they were on the boat with the Pogues, yet that wasn't really of his own volition. It was hot out, so Kiara bought ice pops for them and his mind wandered far from where it should've stayed.

Shining with her saliva, his fingers are pulled from her lips with a soft 'pop' in pursuit of that sensitive collection of nerves at the apex of her thighs. She just needs is a little push to go over the edge, and when he slips his hand down her body to rub tight circles onto her clit, she loses whatever remnants of control over herself she had left.

The steady rhythm of her hips moving back against him falters as she is overwhelmed with the separate sensations culminating into one and giving her the push she needs to come. Her entire body tenses up in anticipation, and since she's pinned to the floor with her hands behind her back, she can only lay there and savor the feeling as it hits her.

After what felt like ages of having it build and build within her, then having it taken away to start the process over again, finally being given a release is a relief beyond any she's felt before.

It's so consuming, it takes away her ability to think of anything outside of how it feels to dissolve into the shockwaves of euphoria rushing through her. Every pulsing wave is prolonged by him, not even through the peak of it does he let up on his precise touches and unforgiving thrusts into her that turn a typical orgasm into the most intense thing she's ever felt.

She's melting in his arms through it all, and as if the change in position didn't make it worse, her involuntary spasms leave him hanging on by a thread.

JJ collapses onto her, barely having the chance to keep himself propped up on his arms as he lets go of her wrists and falls forward onto her sweat-slick back.

The heat of his panting exhales raises goosebumps in its wake where his face is buried into the curve of her neck, and he whines at the impossibly tight feeling of her squeezing around his cock through the end of her climax. Those sounds he doesn't realize he's making have her writhing through the aftershocks, answering with a sound of her own that almost makes him come instantly.

For that reason, he makes the decision to pull out and flip her onto her back.

At this point, she's so dazed and fucked out that she doesn't register any of it until she notices the hollow absence of him inside of her, but it doesn't matter when his face appears through the partial darkness above her.

Despite how sensitive she is right now, the sight of him makes her hands reach out blindly to pull him closer again. They're frantic in their need to get back to one another, grasping and clawing until he finds his way back to her in less than a second, hiking her legs up around his waist with a touch that is somehow demanding and tender at the same time.

It's only when he's inside of her again that it occurs to her why he rolled her onto her back again, and it makes her want to kiss him until her lips turn numb. It may be undeniably hotter to pin someone down and fuck them hoarse, but, no, that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to be able to look at her, to see her face, and the thought of that has her biting back a sudden confession of love. She isn't sure why she doesn't say it right away, since it isn't like they haven't already done it, but she keeps it to herself for a second first.

It's different now. It's not less passionate or frenetic. It isn't as if he isn't being as rough with her as he was before, but they can both sense a shift in the energy between them as soon as he reenters her. It's less about the pursuit of pleasure and more about the feelings they've kept hidden away for so long. It's a simultaneous realization that hits them a little late after they initially confessed their feelings for each other: this is reality. It's real, and when she touches him this time, he isn't going to disappear if she opens her eyes.

The realization of what happened tonight had yet to hit them until right this second, but now that it has, they move forward with a sense of sentimentality that remained partly dormant before.

If there's anything JJ dislikes, it's being vulnerable. The idea of letting someone in to see every part of him, including the parts he doesn't want to see of himself, has always terrified him after years of being made to believe he's undeserving, yet he isn't uncomfortable right now. Somehow, he feels safe with her. Sex has never been something so emotional for him until now, until her, and he doesn't want it differently.

Their bodies are drawn in close, her arms thrown around his neck, and he's so close, he can feel the muscles leading down past his lower abdomen contract with the inevitable approach of his orgasm. She can sense it too in how he acts.

When he gets close, he becomes clingier and lets his feelings get the better of him. His hands squeeze at her hips, sliding up her sides and back down to hike one of her legs up high around his waist to press deeper into her. He can't bear to allow his touch to stay in one place for too long before exploring another part of her, wanting to memorize the delicate intricacies of her body in its entirety.

It's as if she can read his mind too, cause even when she's sensitive enough to gasp when he pushes her thigh to her chest and throws his remaining energy into fucking her at a satisfying pace, she understands what he needs. She knows to reach up and run her fingers through his hair, to tug on it gently until the light strands are taut from his scalp. She knows to lift her head off of the floor enough to trail tender kisses along his face, his jaw, his neck—anywhere she can access.

"Come for me," she says into a kiss placed on the edge of his cheekbone, reeling in overstimulation as she jolts with his quickening thrusts, "I want to watch you..."

Hearing those words, paired with the kisses and fingers pulling on his hair, does it for him. It doesn't take more for his hips to falter and jerk forward into her a final few times before he comes.

Their foreheads press together as they cling to one another for stability, though it's mostly JJ clinging to her while she watches in adoration, and she has to bite her lip to contain a moan at how it feels. The aftershocks of her orgasm have yet to fade as the feeling of pulsing warmth inside of her makes them stronger, reigniting the fire she felt a moment ago if only for a second.

There's a closeness to this situation that they hadn't felt the last time, and they know it has everything to do with what was said before this happened. The sex itself feels like a dream sequence in her mind now that she's coming down from it with him, moving together slowly and gently beneath the candlelight until they ride out the ends of their highs. It was like they were put under a trance by each other, and now that it's over, the first thoughts that come to mind are of what comes next.

It's not the sole topic on their minds though. They're more focused on catching their breath from where they lay, tangled up together, on the living room floor. As soon as the very last of his orgasm faded from him, he fell onto her without a single ounce of energy left to spare. He's careful not to crush her, but, for the most part, he relaxes on top of her and lets his head rest on her heaving chest.

Strong arms slip down to loop around her waist, and she sure that she couldn't get him to release her if she wanted to, which she doesn't.

But they can't stay like this, not for any longer than a few moments anyway, since they don't know how if John B might wake up and come out of the safety of his bedroom after hours of leaving them to their own devices. JJ was right. He's out cold, but for as much as it turned them on in the heat of the moment, neither of them finds getting caught by him as hot with the clarity of their rational minds coming back to them.

He's the one to break the silence.

"As much as I wanna stay like this, we should probably move in case John B wakes up."

The sound of his voice settles in her with the effects of a sedative. It calms her more than anything else could, especially with the added comfort of him cuddling her so closely. One of her hands strokes through his hair and pushes the damp tendrils of sunshine away from his face as he cranes his neck to look up at her. And, for fuck's sake, what else is she to do except admire him?

His cheeks are dusted pink in a way they often are when he spends too much time outside without one of his hats shielding his face, and she thinks he's never looked better.

Ever since they became friends, she's had this theory about him. In the unrealistic landscape of her overactive imagination, JJ didn't come to this world the way the rest of them did. To her, it seems impossible that someone so good, even in his worst moments, could've come from someone like his dad.

So, in idle moments where she would watch him on a day out with the Pogues or daydream about him, she decided that he's the sun.

She imagines he was created in those breathtaking but brief moments where the sun meets the horizon atop the ocean and washes the sky with a vast array of colors. She likes to think he's the incarnation of it. Golden, warm, and bright for everyone but himself, he keeps the world light for her and their friends without intending to.

Some days are warmer than others too. Some days, the light is dimmed by another bruise beneath his clothes or a bad run-in with some kooks, but today is not like that. This moment is eighty-five and sunny with a balmy breeze. Looking at him right now feels like basking in the sun, and she'd burn here forever if he let her.

Without realizing she zoned out, she jolts when he pinches her arm to rouse her from her ridiculous thoughts. He has this dopey half-smile on his face that nearly draws her back into them again.

"You know what they say," he says, "if you take a picture..."

Her soft laughter invades the room, filling his heart with this light, fluttery feeling that always finds him when she's near. His smile grows as she playfully shoves him and reaches above their heads for her wet shirt to cover up with just in case. Odds are, their friend isn't waking up at the exact moment before they seclude themselves to the spare room and get dressed, but she doesn't wanna take that chance.

"I wasn't staring."

She was totally staring. But who could blame her? When someone looks at a person the way he looks at her, how could they ever stay away?

"Whatever you say."

JJ keeps smiling to himself while he pulls his underwear and shorts up his legs and waits for her to be decent enough to sneak past John B's bedroom to the bathroom at the end of the hallway.

The clothes are soaked through with rainwater, so they feel quite uncomfortable to slip back on, but they merely redress enough to be covered. She stole his shirt to avoid putting her shorts back on, the hem of the grey tee hanging right at the tops of her thighs when she walks. As soon as she slips her panties back on and picks up the rest of their cold, wet clothes, that's the cue he needs to scoop her up and take her away.

Y/N curses under her breath in surprise at feeling her feet being plucked off the ground, but she relaxes again once she's settled in his arms, realizing that it was just him who snuck up behind her and lifted her into his arms.

She doesn't say anything on the way to the bathroom. Instead, she lays her head on his shoulder in exhaustion and finds herself staring at the mark she left behind on his neck.

It's a deep, purplish red against the backdrop of his tan skin...the Pogues will surely notice the next time they see him. And while it will make her blush, it won't make her scared as it once would've. There may be a lingering sense of doubt and insecurity within her, but she wants this with him. Even if it means being teased by their friends or dealing with the jealousy of watching kook girls and tourons at parties hit on him, she wants this.

By the time the shower is spraying the rainwater from her hair and washing her clean of sweat sticking to her skin, she realizes that he isn't saying anything either, but she doesn't think it's out of any awkwardness or miscommunication. There's truly nothing to say, at least for now.

Though they didn't have the chance to talk in depth about everything yet, neither of them thinks of that right now. All they know is that they're together, whether it be officially or not, and it feels good. For once, something in his life feels right, and he lets himself enjoy it in silence.

The shower is a cramped space when shared between them and the wet clothes they have draped over the back edge of the tub, but they make it work. It's not like they mind anyway.

They bump into one another whenever they do so much as breathe, and the white walls echo the sounds of her giggling when he tries to tickle her. She leans her head back against his chest and lets out a laugh with shampoo dripping down the front of her face, and he'll be damned if he ever heard a sound as intoxicating as that.

It's a little weird. He's never been as soft and loving with a person before, and he has already felt overwhelmed in the lulls of quiet between them when he's given the chance to think about it.

When she washes his hair for him, insisting that she must return the favor after he so kindly washed hers, he was struck with the same mixture of wanting to simultaneously lean into and pull away from her that he felt the night of the party.

The warmth of the water loosens his sore muscles, washing suds of the green apple scented shampoo over his shoulders and down, down, down until it circles the drain beside his feet. All the while, her fingertips are delicately tracing over a healing bruise on his torso. Those pretty lips of hers are painted in a suppressed frown that she can't hide from him.

"Are you okay?" Y/N asks.

His instant reaction is to fake a smile, to brush it off and distract her as he usually does, yet he doesn't. He forces himself to remain neutral and not push her away.

"Happens all the time," he murmurs, shrugging and averting his eyes to reach for the soap off on the ledge.

The hands holding either side of his waist tighten as he tries to turn, pulling him back to her with more strength than he knew to anticipate from her. Their chests gently collide back together beneath the stream of water, and she can feel his breathing catch for a second or so in response.

The fact that their relationship has changed doesn't change how she handles this aspect of his life. Their new confessions don't have an impact on the part of his life he never wants to let anyone see, so she isn't going to force him to talk about it because they're trying out this whole relationship thing now. He has hard boundaries that she knows not to push sometimes. That's the way it is, and it might change as they grow closer but she knows to accept it for the moment.

As soon as he hears what she has to say next, he could crumble in relief at the realization that their new dynamic doesn't change anything.

"I didn't necessarily mean...that...I meant generally, you know? It's just that—" she sighs, "you shrink away a little when I hold you, and I wondered if I was making you uncomfortable."

Before she could finish the sentence, JJ was already thinking of what to say to prove her wrong, because that's not it. That's not what it is, and if she thinks she's done anything wrong, he'll do anything to convince her otherwise because it isn't her. It's him.

It's his dad lingering in the darker trenches of his mind, commanding his fear and attention so that even when he isn't physically present, he's still here. Part of why he denied wanting her was because he knew these types of things would arise in the beginning, that there would be difficult adjustments to make and conversations to be had, and he didn't want her to leave him as soon as she was faced with one of these things.

He shakes his head.

"You didn't do anything."

The feeing of her chest rising and falling with his begins to steady him after a moment of allowing the initial hesitation to dissolve. His internal reaction to her touch is the mental incarnation of a flinch. It's him waiting for the other shoe to drop and expecting her to do something, to hurt him, before his mind catches up with his heart. But once he realizes everything's okay, he loves it.

"It's kinda embarrassing, but I guess when you touch me, I'm expecting something else," he says softly, scared that if he speaks too loudly, everyone in the world will know how weak he feels.

She should've figured, but hearing him say it is different than wondering what the reasoning behind it is. Hearing him admit it after months of strict avoidance on the topic is a sucker punch to the gut.

Both times they had sex, he was too distracted and thoughtless to get caught up in that part of himself, but it's when the bliss of the afterglow disappears that it creeps back in. That's why he could always handle touch when it came in that context. It was his way of obtaining what he wanted without having to face this side of it—a temporary fix to a greater web of issues.

But there's nothing temporary about her. He doesn't want her to leave him, not without him resisting the urge to beg her on his knees to stay and at least remain his friend, so there's no choice but to face these momentary challenges head on.

She pauses for a second, thinking, then says, "You don't have to be embarrassed about it, I get it. We'll just have to take it day by day then. We can take it slow, and you'll let me know if it gets to be too much, okay?"

It's hard not to be shocked by how well she's taking it. A lot of people probably wouldn't feel too great after someone they love tells them they expect to be hit whenever they touch them, yet she's taking it in stride.

Things are back to normal as soon as she sees the grin on his face.

"So, you're saying you're gonna be trying not to throw yourself at me all the time?" JJ asks, then clicks his tongue as though in thought. "I give you a week. Tops."

Her eyes go wide as she looks at him. She holds her hand over her heart as she pretends to be scandalized by such an accusation, but they know it's true. They both can't keep their hands off of one another, which is why it confuses him. How can he want to reject and enjoy her touch at the same time? Sure, the discomfort disappears after the first split-second, but the fact that it happens in the first place annoys him to no end.

She rolls her eyes and tries to hide the fact that she's giggling as she reaches for the soap.

"You're a little shit, you know that?"

He doesn't miss a beat, saying back, "Yeah but I'm your little shit, so I feel like that says more about you than it does me."

While he's too busy rinsing the rest of the shampoo out of his hair, she smiles to herself at what he said.

Hers.

Nobody has ever been hers before, or proclaimed themselves as belonging to her as proudly and casually as he just did, and her heart melts over the sweet sentiment he didn't think twice about.

Less than a day ago, she was agonizing over her relationship with him and trying to ignore how powerful those feelings for him were, and now they're here. She no longer has to steal glances when he looks away or hide how jealous she feels when other girls flirt with him. To finally let the tension disappear is an immense weight off of her shoulders.

The rest of the shower is as quiet as the start of it was, and that comfortable silence continues through from when they're drying off and redressing to when they hit the mattress in the spare bedroom with tired sighs.

After the day they had, the mere suggestion of sleep is enough to make them start yawning, so being able to slip beneath the sheets and rest their heads almost sings her to sleep instantly.

Their bodies are laying in the exact outlines of where they laid the night of the party, the only difference this time being their mindsets. This time around, they aren't holding themselves back from anything, and it's most evident in the little things. Like how she doesn't turn around to shield her face from him, instead laying with her head propped on the other end of his favorite pillow.

They're so close, their noses brush if they make any slight movements, and this would be enough for him to submit to the urge to drift into sleep if not for the fact that he feels her jolt when thunder rumbles loudly outside of the window.

Much like his own fears being pushed to the side amidst their desire for each other, her anxiety about the storm wasn't on her mind until they laid down to sleep.

She was so wrapped up in him and everything that happened between them that she didn't have the time to think again until now, until she hears the violent patter of rain against the roof and feels her stomach drop at the sound of the thunder. Suddenly, she's not the one reassuring him about his fearful reactions, it's the other way around.

His warm hand takes hers, snatching it up as though he's worried it'll disappear if he doesn't take it quickly enough, and she lets him. Her eyes flutter shut with the release of a slow, deep breath, and she lets the presence of his hand in hers bring her back to earth.

JJ asks into the darkness, "Can I take you out on a real date?" After a beat of silence, the comforting sound of his voice returns to her. "Not that this isn't fun, but I think you deserve a little more effort than John B's living room floor."

A short-lived chuckle escapes her—a win as far as he's concerned. It's difficult to lure her head from the clouds when she gets this way, and it isn't like he has much experience with calming her during these moments either, but that sounded good to him. It sounded like she wasn't thinking about the increased pace of her heart or the howling wind outside.

He was planning on asking anyway. However fitting of a first night together this was, he wants to take her out for real sometime soon. He doesn't have much money for it, like at all, but they can come up with something special together, even if it's similar to the same shit they usually do together. As long as it's time alone together, they don't necessarily care if it's a perfectly traditional first date.

The tip of his thumb rubs comforting circles onto the back of her hand in the brief time it takes her to respond, stroking the soft skin as if to tell her that everything's okay. It seems to say, I'm right here. Nothing can hurt you. And it might make her crazy, but she believes him. JJ could take her back out into the eye of the hurricane at this very moment and she'd still believe his unspoken promise of not letting her into harm's way.

"Of course," she says, then pauses, and the sound of her sleepy voice hardly reaches his ears when she speaks again, "...I'm sorry I avoided you for the past few days. I was scared to tell you how I felt but I shouldn't have left that morning."

The memory of waking up in his arms is fresh in the forefront of her mind, so much so that she can remember the way his breath felt where it exhaled in warm puffs onto her skin.

In the first few moments of consciousness, it was peaceful.

She laid awake for a minute or two to count his breaths and soak in the comfort of being cuddled up next to him, wishing she could stay there for hours. It wasn't until another moment passed that it clicked with her where she was and what was going on between them recently, and that was what prompted her to slip away from the bed to get ready for her day at work.

It was the second time in a row that she left him in that bed with nothing to wake up to but the cold absence of her body between the sheets he slept under, and he can't deny that it's part of why he holds onto her hand so tightly tonight. Even though she's promised him otherwise, he can't help but think she'll be gone by the time he wakes up. At this point, he's struggling to stay conscious. She can see those pretty eyes drooping more and more by the second, yet the hand holding hers doesn't loosen its grip.

He takes a deep breath and scoots closer to her, keeping his one hand in hers while the other arm drapes itself over her waist, and he can feel her relax into the touch.

"It's okay," he says.

It's easier for him to adjust to so much physical contact when he's the one initiating. He knows that's why she only reached out to hold his hand. If she had it her way, she would've already been cuddling with him as soon as they laid down, but he likes that she gives him the space to initiate it. In the ways it counts the most, she cares about him more than anyone else has.

The touch in itself is his way of accepting her apology. However, truth be told, he already forgave her for it before knowing his love was reciprocated could be a possibility.

Right when she's about to fall asleep, the screen door slamming open and shut with the wind on the back porch makes her whip her head around to look over her shoulder in the direction of the sound. It seems like every time he successfully distracts her from it, the storm finds new ways of reminding her of what's happening outside of the safety of the Chateau.

There's the sound of a barely audible, sharp inhale, then her whispering into the dark room as she looks at the closed door, "I can't believe I went out into that. What the fuck was I thinking?"

It's beginning to close in on her again; the sounds of the storm, the sense of being trapped no matter how safe they truly are, and the rising tidal wave of anxiety that picks up speed the more she tries to will it to stop. This is the part where she tries to relieve it in some way, usually by smoking weed to sleep or going to one of her parents so they can help her through it, but she can't help herself right now.

Debris was being picked and tossed around in the wind like it weighed nothing when she was out there, she could've been knocked into the marsh or struck by a piece of debris.

How could she be so stupid?

Not only could she have hurt herself, she could've hurt JJ knowing that he'd likely follow her out into the storm to bring her back inside, and the thought of him being hurt makes the tension in her chest heavier. Her breathing picks up speed, the anxiety starting to snowball out of control when—

"Hey, look at me," JJ says, reaching up to turn her head to face him, and she damn near crumbles in relief at feeling his hand cup her cheek. It doesn't make it all disappear, but it provides a momentary comfort that she doesn't take for granted. "You're safe here. You know damn well I'll do anything to protect you. I mean, shit, dude, if I have to go out there and tell that rain to fuck off, I will."

This draws out a laugh from her, chest stuttering with the happy sound through the tears glistening in her eyes, and he never wants to stop hearing it. His thumb swipes away the first teardrop that falls before it can slip over the apples of her cheeks. I'm Her quiet cries and shaky breaths continue for a while after the laughter disappears. For a second or two, he watches with his thumb still wiping her tears away and hopes that it'll be enough to comfort her, but it can't do it completely.

He pulls away from her to get up from the bed with an idea popping into his mind, but upon hearing her whine at the loss of contact with him, he pauses to say, "I'll be back quick, don't worry."

The remaining humorous side of her left wonders if he's actually gonna go tell the rain to fuck off, but he's just opening the bedroom door to trot out into the living room.

A candle burning on the coffee table illuminates the space for him, guiding him straight to the forgotten backpack she left slumped against the arm of the couch hours before their relationship was changed for the better. It takes him an instant to get there and back with the bag in hand, and he's digging through it for a second before climbing back into bed with her.

If anyone else rifled through her bag, sifted through her personal belongings, and dug her phone out of it, she'd probably be annoyed, but she never is with him. She's inherently protective of her things, but JJ can do whatever he wants and it has always been that way. It should've been the first warning of what was to come.

He pulls the sheet back over his body and scoots up close to her, trying to resist the urge to retreat at first when he maneuvers her to lay with her head on his shoulder. It should trigger the flight or fight response that often alarms in his head, but he's able to push it away.

She's so vulnerable right now, so gentle and in need of the warmth of another person that he isn't as intimidated. It's not that she couldn't hurt him if she wanted to right now, she could, but he knows her. He knows that the last thing she'd ever want to do is hurt him, so he has to remind himself of that and give himself the permission to enjoy the physical intimacy of her touch. The part of him that questions if he even deserves it can't reach him now, not when he's so focused on her.

"Thumb?" he asks with the phone held out expectantly.

The screen is less than two inches from her face, so she has to push it back slightly, but she flattens her thumb to the button without further hesitation.

When he unwraps the pair of headphones from around the palm of his hand and plugs them into the charging port, she realizes why he left in the first place.

When she was facing away from him, eyes shut and headphones in to distract herself with music earlier, he was stealing glances at her every so often. He tried to keep away from her for the most part. It was difficult though, especially knowing what she said about being jealous the night of the party and knowing how scared she was of the hurricane. He couldn't help but keep an eye on her, for both his own selfish needs and his worry for her.

He keeps an arm tucked around her, pressing her body into his while he pops one of the headphones into her ear and the other into his. The thing is, her eyes aren't trained on the screen like his are once he starts looking through her vast collection of not-so-legally acquired music for a song that suits both of their tastes, they're trained on him.

Their taste in music tends to diverge in certain ways and overlap in others, so there's always a fifty/fifty shot of him liking what she plays when she's the one picking the music. That is why he smiles to himself and halts the endless scrolling in its tracks to hover his thumb over one song.

He obviously heard it before she played it that one time, but it's different for him now. They were riding together in the backseat of the Twinkie on the way to the beach with John B, Kie, and Pope when they let her take her turn to play a song.

That's how it is with them, the driver goes first, then it goes to the front seat passenger, and so on and so on until they make their way back to the beginning of the rotation. It was her turn when she picked this song, and it could've been the song, or the sunset shining through the window, but he felt as though his heart exploded when he looked at her in the middle of it.

He remembers feeling confused, confused as to why he couldn't catch his breath and why he suddenly adored the song he only heard casually a couple of times.

It was her. It was everything about her. The soft hum of her voice murmuring the lyrics, too shy to actually sing them in the presence of anyone else, was too delicate for the others to appreciate over the sounds of the van. He heard it though. He clung to it and admired her, so unashamed in his staring that he didn't realize he was doing it. It wasn't until she noticed that he stopped.

"Do I still have ice cream on my face or something?"

Her fingers came up to wipe at the corner over her mouth, and the action sent him turning his attention away quicker than he knew he could move, pulling the lighter out of his pocket to fiddle with as he mumbled, "Yeah, but you got it off now."

The cheery melody of Just Like Heaven bursts out of each headphone into their ears.

How did he know? How is he constantly reading her mind without realizing it?

This was her first song on the couch that she couldn't stand to sit through without thinking, naturally, of him when confronted with the topic of love. Somehow, it's like he knew that, and instead of feeling exposed and scared he'll know her feelings like before, she feels loved.

She is never skipping this song again.

"Go to sleep," he murmurs, clicking the screen off and resting it on his stomach.

It takes him a short thirty seconds to fall into an easy, calm pattern of breathing that tells her he isn't asleep, but soon will be. But she's fighting her sleepiness to continue looking at him. His eyes are fluttered shut, hair messy on the pillow, and she'd want to reach up to kiss him if he weren't trying to fall asleep.

Instead, she settles for matching her quickened breaths to the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath her hand and shuts her eyes along with him.

By the time the song reaches its end, she thinks he's asleep, but she still whispers, "Thank you," and feels his arm squeeze around her body in response.

The next songs fade into white noise at this point for her, drowning out the storm to the point where she begins to forget it's happening out there.

Maybe they can be each other's safe place when things get rough. After all, he handled this wonderfully considering his lack of experience with her anxiety and she never pushes him on his plethora of unsorted issues, even when she wants so badly to be the one to initiate the touch.

She never makes him think she pities him, or wants to "fix" him like so many partners with savior complexes who will never try to understand how it feels often do in these situations. With each other, maybe it doesn't have to be so complicated anymore, even when they have those inevitable arguments here or there.

The last thing he does before allowing himself to be dragged under is brush his lips on her forehead in a tender kiss. And when he eventually wakes to the rising sun shining through the windows in the aftermath of the violent hurricane, she's still there.

Tag List: @jjjmaybank, @its-simply-fanfiction, @naughtydild0swaggins.

[echoghost1]

What's In A Name

okay, this took me longer than I expected... but here is the fic based on this post

Title: What's In A Name

Summary: Danny thought that having a sub in class would make things easier. Unfortunately, this leads to everyone finding out that his first name isn't Daniel.

His class isn't taking the news very well.

word count: 1670

you can read it on AO3 or down below the cut!

Oh, and I guess I'll tag the people from that post: @spookberry @shinygoldstar

Danny had just gotten to school and was getting his supplies for first period when Tucker ran up with way more excitement for this early in the morning.

“Dude, you’re never going to believe it!”

“Believe what?” Danny asked with an amused grin.

“Lancer took a sick day since the first time in forever!”

Danny felt like he was missing something.

Tucker rolled his eyes when Danny didn’t react correctly, “Subs, man. We have subs.”

“In all of his classes?” Danny asked as the news finally sunk in.

“Yup.” Tucker said with confidence as he popped the ‘p’.

“I have so many classes with him.”

“I know dude, me too!” He wrapped his arm around Danny’s shoulder, “Which means that today is going to be a breeze.”

Danny smiled and couldn’t help getting excited about a nice easy day at school.

================================================

His first class was easy.

The sub seemed just as tired as they were and simply checked that they were in their assigned seats and handed out a worksheet for them to do.

Once the teacher made it clear that they didn’t care if they worked together or not, it turned into more of a hang-out session than actually getting much work done.

================================================

His second period was science which he didn’t have with Mr. Lancer so he actually had to pay attention.

It was a lab day and he was still banned for life from handling all fragile school property, so the lab they had was a bit difficult until the teacher remembered (was reminded) and let him team up with Mikey.

All he had to do was take notes on what was happening. Which was fine. He could do that no problem.

All Mikey asked was for his handwriting to be legible.

================================================

It was his third class that ruined everything. It had all been going so well until then.

The teacher had decided to ignore the seating chart list and did roll by reading off the class roster list on the computer. Which in theory would be fine, except that the computer list didn’t have the notes that Mr. Lancer had added over the year, things like nicknames for instance.

It would have been fine if she had called him Daniel. It would have reminded him of Vlad, which would have been annoying, but manageable.

Unfortunately his first name isn’t Daniel.

“Johnathan?”

Everyone perked up at the name. They looked around, confusion evident on all of their faces. There was no Johnathan in this class. No John or Johnny’s. Was this a secret classmate? It couldn’t be, all the seats were full and no one here was Johnathan.

The teacher sighed and tried again, “Johnathan Fenton?”

Danny perked up and raised his hand, “Here. Sorry. I just um, everyone calls me Danny. Or Daniel, or just Fenton.” he realized he had been rambling and apologized again.

He looked down at his desk still embarrassed that he sort of forgot his own first name for a second. Then he felt like he was being watched.

He looked up and realized everyone, but Tucker, who was too busy chuckling to himself, was staring at him with varying degrees of confusion and anger. Sam included.

The class said nothing. Only stared for the remainder of the roll call.

Once the teacher was finished, and before they could truly start class, Dash was the first to break the silent tension. “Your name is Johnathan?!”

“Yes?” Danny answered hesitantly as he leaned away from the angry jock. Normally Dash wasn’t much of a threat anymore after all the ghost hunting, but he couldn’t exactly use his powers in the middle of class.

“Since when?!”

“Birth?”

“No!” Dash countered.

“Look, I’m named after my dad and it’s too confusing if we both go by the same name, so we just use my middle name instead.”

“But your dad’s name is Jack.”

“Which is short for Johnathan,” Danny explained with a sigh.

Dash sputtered in confused annoyance. Apparently, he didn’t know that either.

Before he could get too angry about his lack of knowledge, the teacher made it clear that they were going to start class now.

Dash glared at Danny and pointed an accusatory finger at him, “I don’t believe you, Fenton.”

“Okay?” Danny shrugged it off and the rest of the class went back to ignoring him.

Except for Sam.

She was still glaring at him.

“What?” Danny mouthed not a hundred percent sure as to what his gothic friend was upset about.

She flipped open her notebook hard enough for the paper cover to slap against the desk and furiously scribbled something down before tearing out the page and quickly folding it like a ninja star and chucking it at his head.

He carefully unfolded the note and read it.

“Are you serious?! Is this some elaborate prank?”

Danny looked up to Sam in surprise and then back to the note.

“No really. That is my name.” he wrote before trying his best to fold the note back up as she had it. He really wasn’t as good at it as she was.

She wrote her response quickly and made a point to get the creases of the folds just right. “Then why is Tucker laughing?”

“I don’t know? I’m not a mind reader Sam.”

“Did he know?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He didn’t really understand why she was so upset by this. It didn’t really matter. Did it? “I wasn’t keeping it a secret. I just forgot.”

“Forgot what? That it was your name or that I didn’t know?”

He hesitated too long and Tucker finally snatched the note from him and read it over before snickering to himself and added his own two cents before tossing it back to Sam.

Finally, Sam smiled. With a roll of her eyes, she slipped the note into the pocket of her notebook and went to doodling like nothing was wrong.

Danny wasn’t really sure what that was all about, but he was glad it was over.

================================================

The rest of the day was mostly fine. His friends teased him about his full name occasionally throughout the day, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

Dash kept giving him the stink eye, which was weird, but better than being shoved into his own locker.

Lunch was a bit of a disaster once Tucker let out his inner bookie and started holding bets on what Danny’s real name was.

There were three options.

One was that his name was really Daniel and he was just pranking everyone somehow.

The second was that his name really was Johnathan and he was telling the truth because Fenton can’t tell a lie to save his life.

While the third was that he had a completely different name and may or may not be related to the Fenton’s at all.

Danny wasn’t sure if he should be finding all of this hilarious or just plain annoying. Maybe it was one of those, ‘we’ll laugh about it when we’re older’ things?

Of course, word spread fast and everyone was trying to figure out what the real answer was. No one was asking Danny, because they weren’t sure if he actually was a reliable source. Tucker refused to give the answer until the end of the day when he would reveal the winners. And Sam admitted that all of the name nonsense was news to her, but since she loved chaos, she would wink and add, “But it could be true.”

Danny realized too late that the only other person to ask before the end of the day was his sister.

Before he could get to her, someone else beat him to it.

Dash had cornered her just outside of the library and asked, “What’s your brother’s name,” without any preamble.

Of course, Jazz, being two years older than them and in none of their classes, had no idea what had been going on. So she answered the question as best she could despite the confusion, “Danny?”

“Ha! I knew he was a liar!” Dash boasted as he turned around and punched his fist into his open palm as he eyed Danny.

“Wait!” He called out to Dash before turning his attention to his sister, “He means my first name!”

“Oh,” she turned to Dash, “Why didn’t you just say that?”

Dash’s shoulders slumped in defeat, “his name isn’t Danny?”

“His middle name is, but not his first name.” she turned back to Danny, “Didn’t you explain it?”

“Of course I did! He just didn’t believe me! And now the whole school is losing their minds because they think this is some crazy prank or that I’m a liar or something.”

Danny sighed and composed himself before giving the warning as he had meant to, “Tucker is taking bets on what my name is so other people might ask you about it too.”

Jazz hummed thoughtfully to herself while nodding, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You are going to tell them the truth right?”

“Of course,” she said but she still had that far-off look in her eye.

Danny figured he would probably regret asking, but he was just too curious, “what are you thinking about?”

“This is very interesting from a psychological perspective, don’t you think?”

“How?”

“Well by learning that what they assumed to be true, wasn’t, it has shifted their perspective on things.”

“Do you really think it’s that deep?”

“What do you think it is then?” she asked, not annoyed that her theory was being questioned, just curious.

“I think people just like drama.”

“Perhaps.” she said as she watched a dejected Dash walk away, “and maybe it’s a bit of both.”

“Whatever it is I hope it goes away tomorrow.” he walked away and wondered if this was a preview as to what would happen if his secret got out.

He stopped in his tracks with a sigh. No, if they found out he was really Danny Phantom it would be worse. So much worse.

[missdrarrydawn]

------------ Occupy My Heart ------------

Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader

warning: implied smut, brief mentions of drinking

~~~

written for the lovely @leydileyla who offered me this absolute gem of a prompt that I simply couldn't pass up

hope you enjoy hon :DD

~~~

You were really starting to feel the buzz of the Butterbeers a few hours into the Interhouse party that was thrown for all the returning eighth years. You're such a horrible lightweight, Butterbeer is just vaguely alcoholic, if at all. It warmed you up and left a pleasant tingle in its wake. Just enough to let the music and lights around you blur and blend, to ripple against your skin and soothe. The smell of the ale cookies served at various tables scattered around the one conjoined common room for all the Houses now wafted through the thick, cloying air, between meandering bodies of various dancing students, all the scents making your head spin from where you were sitting at the little makeshift bar.

The party's been wilding on way past curfew but no teachers arrived to interrupt you yet so it was fair game. Everything felt so liquid and pleasant, the atmosphere sticking to your slick skin, the warmth and haze prickling at the back of your neck.

Gods you needed a shower. Perhaps you might sneak away to have a quick one? The party showed no signs of slowing down and you were drained.

As you pushed away from the bar, colors still swimming before your eyes from all the sparkle and decorative banners strung up everywhere, you felt a shiver run down your spine.

You felt eyes on you.

Turning about to find the possible culprit, you registered a flash of platinum blonde hair in a darkened corner and the piercing glow of silver eyes lingering on you.

Draco.

A chuckle rumbled from your chest as you allowed yourself a moment to revel in his gaze before melding into the throng of people, sliding between them, trying to remember whether your dorm was the door on the left or the right upstairs. It wouldn't do to barge into someone else's dormroom.

As you made your way along you still felt pins and needles in your back, as if someone was keeping pace with you. Goodness, that was incredibly paranoid, wasn't it? You vowed to yourself to never drink Butterbeer again. Even slightly tipsy you were a disaster.

Finally you got through everyone and into the quieter part of the room, where all the dorms were. There were only a few people milling about there, stumbling off to their rooms with whoever they pulled or to retch or simply pass out.

The beat of the music was muffled here, no longer a steady, beating ebb flowing through your skull, now more resembling a foggy memory. It was easier to think, to breathe. You've never been much of a party animal, but this one was important. It celebrated unity and the war being over, it celebrated those who lived and fought. It mattered to attend. After Hogwarts rebuilt and reopened, the first thing that changed was the system of the four houses, headmistress McGonagall had dismantled it entirely after witnessing how horrific segregation could be.

Everyone was thrown in one mixing pot, which had been strange at first, but throwing a party like this really helped scrub out the imaginary lines in the sand everyone had drawn between themselves.

Speaking of scrubbing, you finally arrived to your dorm and basically collapsed through the door in your quest for a shower. Where was the bathroom door again? Ah right, over there, of course.

You slipped through, the bright Lumos having you squint for a second while your eyes adjusted from the dim haze of downstairs to the sparkling clean of tile.

Right. You closed the door behind you and began to undress, your clothes peeling away from the sweat plastered all over you from all the vigorous dancing you'd done.

As you kicked off your shoes and set your bare feet on the cold floor, a distinct icy chill ran up your legs and through the rest of you, shivering away the brittle buzz you'd worked up, cooling you down.

Once your clothes were a discarded pile on the floor, you stepped into the shower and pulled the fogged glass door shut, fiddling with the taps before a spray of warm water finally hit your face and shoulders.

What a relief.

You began to scrub and lather yourself up, cleaning off the night with the water sluicing down your skin, your mind starting to wander as you relaxed into the moment more. Warm showers were a treasure.

Draco was staring at you back there. For a brief second you made eye contact before you left. Did that mean something? You felt silly for wanting to know but that boy has occupied the vacant spaces of your heart for far too long now, and you couldn't help but hope that his intense, focused gaze meant something more.

As you began washing your hair, a knock on the door startled you out of your skin. You almost poured shampoo into your eyes for heaven's sake!

"Um—occupied?" you yelled out, hoping to be heard over the gush of water. If someone needed the bathroom urgently then they could come in to use it, it's not as if anyone would see you in your birthday suit, but if it wasn't urgent then they could find another one.

"Ahh, Y/N, it's—uh, it's me! I was just wondering if you were okay?" a familiar voice from the other side of the door spoke up.

You knew that voice. It was so familiar. Who—

You felt every bit of you freeze as your brain spat out the answer for you.

Draco. It was Draco.

Checking up on you.

What should you do now? Your heart began hammering away quicker, this was hardly the time or place to flirt or attempt seduction and—

Well. As you considered the statement that just flittered through your mind you found it not entirely true.

You were naked after all, naked and wet. What more perfect scenario for seduction did there exist?

"I'm okay Draco, um—you can come in?" you yelled back, lips stretching into a smile. Technically he shouldn't be here at all, seeing as these were girls quarters and all, but if he's been invited it shouldn't be too much of an issue. If he accepted, that was.

There was silence for a few beats, the moment dragging on, you almost thought you'd scared him off, but then—

The soft, distinct click of the door being opened and shut.

Bingo.

Now, how exactly would you do this? You supposed you could ask him to get you a towel when you were done, and let him have a glimpse.

Merlin it sounded corny as all fuck, but you were prepared to do what it takes.

Until then though, you supposed you should talk about anything, keep the atmosphere up.

You could just barely make out his tall, foggy outline through the sliding glass of the shower, and you watched him move to sit down on the toilet seat.

Wait a second—if you could partly see him, did that mean he could partly see you too?

That was even more perfect.

"Hi Draco, you like the party?" you threw out the question casually, hoping to lessen the strangeness of the situation. You and him were friends, well, acquaintances more so, so it's not as if you've never spoken berore, but still. This was way different from any interaction youve had prior. "Thank you for checking up on me."

"Ahh ahem—no problem Y/N, you seemed a little tipsy back there so I uh—I thought you might—Well yea." he stumbled through his words, hardly even finishing the sentence properly.

That was—quite uncharacteristic of Draco Malfoy. He was always the one with the silver tongue, the sharp remark, had a comment to spare for anything, and to hear him stutter and hiccup his way through speaking as if he were a nervous school girl talking to her crush was very new and strange.

You'd be lying if you said it wasn't endearing as all hell though.

You could have a lot of fun with this.

"I see I see. I did build a bit of a buzz but nowhere near as bad as some of the other characters around this place. I mean, did you see Zabini strip his shirt off and then dance on the tables? Goodness." you simply continued along, as if this were a casual conversation and you weren't naked and washing out your hair.

"Haha, yeah, yes, Blaise will have one hell of a hangover tomorrow." Draco chuckled, though it sounded breathy and rough, somehow.

You were almost done now.

"Parvati will too, say, could you brew a vial of that potion of yours, for hangovers, for her? She's my roommate and I loathe to hear her whining tomorrow. You're the best at it, after all." You let your voice linger above the spray.

This time, Draco audibly spluttered and you saw a flurry of blurred movement, which eased a laugh past your lips.

"Um—yea, of—of course. I can do that. Um, Y/N isn't this—I don't know, a little strange?"

He sounded so thoroughly flustered, which really got you hoping. The stares, checking up on you, doing you favors, getting flustered by the situation, hm.

Hm.

It was worth a shot anyhow, right?

Time for a new plan.

Another chuckle rattled through your ribs. This was insane.

You grabbed the handle of the door and slid it open just enough to lean your head through. You could finally get a good look at him. He was sitting on the toilet seet, his entire face splotched and flushed all down his neck, wringing his hands and bouncing his leg.

When he heard you slide the door open he turned his head abruptly and you heard his breath hitch as he got a look at your face and shoulder sticking out, his eyes sliding from your eyes to your lips, lower still, to your neck and collarbones and—then he remembered himself and turned away abruptly.

"I'm sorry! Oh Merlin, are you—are you done? Do you uh—need a towel or—?" He began to ramble all in one breath and you just continued smiling fondly at his turned back.

"Oh Draco, won't you come in here with me already?"

You held out your hand and patiently waited. You could imagine this would be quite a fallout.

Draco stood completely still when the words left your mouth. One minute, two minutes, three—

The water drying on your skin while more sprayed down had gooseflesh rising all over you. Still, you waited.

"Um—what?" Draco whimpered eventually, voice giving out on him at the end there.

"You heard me." you assurred him.

The hum of running water was the only sound bouncing off the walls again, the very faintest echo of music from downstairs lilting through the closed door.

Draco turned to face you again, he looked wrecked. Eyes wide and dark, his pupils basically swallowing the silver irises, hair disheveled, breath coming in gentle pants.

"You want—?" he mumbled, his voice betraying his own hope and eagerness.

"Yes. For a while." your own smile widened, and for a second a pang of anxiety struck you as you realized he was about to see you naked, but it all dissipated into pooling heat and want as you watched him slowly reach for the first button of his mint green button up shirt and slide it loose. His wide eyes never left yours and you watched the slight tremor in his fingertips as he freed every button, one by one, until his shirt opened and slid off his shoulders, fluttering to the floor.

God he's delicious. All lean, well defined Seeker's physique, the pale marble of his skin an endless expanse. You let your eyes wander, drink in the sight, slide across his chest and lower, over his taut abdomen, hanging up on the waistband of his pants. An outline pushed against the seams there, your mouth watering at the visible bulge.

"Me too." he mumbled, as if you needed any more proof or reassurance of his desire, his hand slowly reaching for his zipper now.

Oh what a lovely party it's been indeed and it was about to get so much better.

~~~

Fin.

[marieanneline]

wait wait hold up i am actually seething about the reveal

ya boi's not a dabi stan. at all. the only reason i'm remotely interested in his character is if he's actually related to shouto and how that would affect hero society in general. i remember reading the training camp arc, seeing him being one of the villains there, him saying todoroki's full name, and thinking "SIBLINGS?????" because agshdfjlk their EYES are SO SIMILAR!! i really want to give credit to horikoshi being able to portray their similarities from artstyle alone because that's talent.

(it's more apparent in the anime since you see the eye color— but appearance-wise, shouto takes after rei and dabi takes after enji the most, so this definitely isn't the best photo to prove my point...)

anyways,,,, dabi's ideals of heroics fall in line with stain's ideals and so we all already theorized how if he was the long lost big brother touya, it would be because of the fact that his father really wasn't a hero. this makes sense. and so, we're all fucking right. props to us, really, and props to horikoshi for all the foreshadowing because i had fun :)) in terms of story and plot, i think this reveal is fantastic.

alright, on to why dabi is a dick

(i'm assuming this was his choice and no one pressured him after all)

the todoroki family is on the road to recovery!!

- shouto finally visits his mother back in season 2 and visits her every chance he gets. you see the effort he makes and it's nice to see him change from season 1 to 2 (early-roki!!)

(guys he even sends her letters- look at that sparkle by his face!! he's sweet :)) and rei's smile!!!!)

- enji (whether we wanted it or not, i don't mind much personally) is trying to atone for everything he's done to his family

- natsuo, who originally wasn't fond of shouto because he had their father's attention (although he does come to the horrible realization that shouto was one of the most unfortunate) and mother's attention (because she wanted to protect shouto), has a closer relationship with his little brother now (can you believe he didn't even know shouto's favorite food was cold soba until ch. 192?? i was sobbing). he really regrets the prejudice he had against shouto and he's trying to be an actual brother to him now.

- rei's almost recovered enough to be released from the hospital!!

- fuyumi and her idyllic "happy family"– wHICH, BY THE WAY, ALMOST CAME TO FRUITION. their mother coming home, shouto connecting with his siblings, and enji being not-the-way-he-was-before is the best outcome they could have hoped for. and it was happening.

and i realize that all of that setup is for this very moment

this? this. this. this is being broadcasted. to everyone. that means the citizens know that their new #1 hero is directly related to a member of a really bad villain organization (i almost called it a terrorist group oop-).

by ruining endeavor, the citizens faith in heroes will collapse. this also affects shouto's reputation as an upcoming hero, and i am so terrified of what this could mean for him. imagine your career ending before it even started, just when you found your passion for being a hero again. all that progress he's made for himself since starting UA could be seen as pointless to him and i would hate for him to retrogress like that because it's not his fault. i would absolutely hate it if the media starts bashing shouto for being related to a villain, when he was also a victim of abuse.

seeing this look on shouto's face is making me dehydrated istg i'm fucking SOBBING— he doesn't even look angry!! in the last few chapters he was angry and worried for his friends, teachers, father maybe, other heroes... but he just looks sad. and the fact that the panel chooses to show the left side of his face is.... there's so much to unpack.

but yeah, this is being broadcasted. does fuyumi know? the cameo she had showed her working so maybe not. natsuo's cameo showed that he was at a lecture, so he also probably didn't see.

but rei did. that's like- that's the person i would want to keep this from the most.

the effects of this entire reveal genuinely scare me. how will this affect rei's mental state? she'll realize that what enji did is actually so much worse. their first child being a villain?? i'm terrified for how she'll react, she's doing much better in recent chapters after all. her kids are visiting her, shouto sends her letters to keep in touch, and enji sends her flowers and respectfully keeps his distance. i really don't want this reveal to result in a relapse. and if she does relapse, then fuyumi's ideal of a happy family is once again out of arms reach. the future of their mother finally coming back home is so far away again and it's genuinely so heart-breaking.

:(

plus— how will fuyumi's little elementary school students react to her being related to a villain? will the school fire her because of her connection to a villain and how that might cause concerns for students and parents????

it's also hard to say exactly how this will affect shouto and natsuo. natsuo was the closest to touya when they were kids so what would his whole opinion be of what touya's become? will he have a moral crisis?

in terms of moral crisises, i guess i'm more concerned about shouto. the boy knows he wants to forgive his father, but this is just making it so much harder. and after this, will he still want to? and finding out that his own sibling is a villain... remember the stain arc? there were some parallels between midoriya's, iida's, and todoroki's positions in the last chapter and i'm worried about what that could foreshadow. from that arc alone, we know that shouto doesn't agree with stain's views at all [i forgot what he said but it was really compelling]. we know that dabi's a stain follower though, so will this disrupt shouto's sense of justice? i hope not.

but family has always been kind of a weak spot for shouto, hasn't it? i hope this doesn't affect his resolve to be a hero because i do think that there's a way to– somehow– not have a corrupt hero society and i want him to fight for that.

touya being a villain is perfectly valid though, i don't doubt that. it's just disheartening to address that while every other todoroki was working hard to become a normal family, here's their oldest brother, who's not really dead. what's going to become of that altar at their house now?

learning the extent to touya's hatred towards endeavor is truly terrifying. we know enji is or was a horrible person and his redemption arc is based on the very fact that he can't be forgiven, despite some of his family trying their best to do so or at least get over it. but the fact that touya has even thought about killing shouto? that's just. ouch. touya's definitely gone through too much abuse, and all of the todoroki family problems are because of enji's bad parenting. but this does not justify murder and especially that of his younger brother, who also got the brunt of the abuse.

needless to say, i am a fool. i don't know if anything i just said will ever be true, but the important thing to take from whatever the heck i just shat out is that all of this is/could be a result of this reveal. it's the fact that dabi seems to have no sympathy. it's the fact that he doesn't care if his blood related family crashes and burns. really, if this is solely about endeavor and what he did, there's no need to bring the rest of the family into this. rei was sent to a hospital for god's sake. shouto has a scar. it's excessive and unmoral and although questionable ethics and values are key traits of a villain, it doesn't justify how much he's hurting the todorokis.

(look at this shit eating grin he has. no remorse. he really doesn't give a shit about the others but I DO and I'M so SAD)

and assuming that the whole "endeavor's wife admitted into hospital" was swept under the rug in terms of media, will that suddenly come back to light? because it shouldn't. maybe it should be known that she's in the hospital because of marital abuse but either way rei should not be dragged back into this disaster, and neither should the rest of them. there's also a chance that the media will accuse rei of having abused her kids too, which is messed up for different reasons. they're trying so hard to have any semblance of a normal family, and if dabi's way of revealing this to the world ruins that in any way then i hATE THIS REVEAL ASDFGHJKL—

[imagintheworldaway]

Together

Anonymous asked: Hello! Can you do a Harryxfem! Reader where people see how Harry looks at the reader (calorie challenge- rematch (time stamp 27:17)) and the reader is so oblivious to Harry’s feeling for her because he broke up with his long-term ex last fall and she doesn’t want to read deep into it and just keeps telling people that they’re just friends even though everyone can see past the bull crap and keeps shipping them because they’re very similar and meant to be and after months of Harry pinning after her he tries to move on and go on dates (which fails but she doesn’t know that it’s not working out for him ) so she starts seeing someone and magically somehow end up together and become the “it” couple because of how blunt and honest they are. Sorry that was long! Hope you can write it thanks!

A/N Good gosh this is a long one. I hope you enjoy! Requests are open 

Sitting on the sofa next to Cal, snuggled in a mountain of blankets in Harrys apartment whilst the boys filmed a video was always fun. They were filming the 100,000 calorie challenge and it was JJ, Vik , Cal and Harrys turn to be eating the calories. We were sat watching JJ as he revealed he had absolutely failed the challenge to everyones surprise. The boys all started to complain as I giggled at the failure which was JJ right now. I felt a slight nudge on my side and Cal not so discreetly nodding towards Harry, I looked over at him and smiled but he averted his gaze from me and buried his head into the massive bear still complaining at JJ as it was revealed he had messed up the challenge even more by starting before the official time. 

After JJ’s little mess up they decided to make the fried mars bars, and I feel as though even saying it is cause for disaster. The boys were all crowded around the counter, just making a mess really, not much surprise there. I was happy in my own little world scrolling through instagram with the boys chatter in the background when I started to smell something burning and a mass amount of smoke from the boys. “Oh my god you idiots” I said matter of factly before grabbing the pan and holding it out the window, not wanting the apartment to stink of burnt mars bars as the guys tried to switch off the fire alarm. 

Once everything had calmed down I started to clean up as the boys ate the left over chocolates. “ you don’t have to clean up Y/N” Harry said to me as he bought over a plate to the sink. “Its ok I don’t mind, something to do at least” I smiled up at him. “You sure? I feel bad” he said scratching his shoulder and giving me an awkward smile. “I’m sure, go enjoy your food” I giggled pushing the boy away from me slightly. I finished up the washing as the boys chatted over their takeaways trying to figure out how many calories they were up to. I popped the remaining dishes in the dish washer and popped it on for the boys. 

Once they had finished Cal and I bid the boys goodbye and hoped in an Uber, we lived in the same apartment complex so it made sense that we shared rides just about everywhere. “Soooo” cal started tapping his his legs to the beat of the song that the Uber driver had popped on for us. i gave him a questioning glance as I sent my text to Harry, informing him I had popped the dish washer on and for him not to forget about it. “When are you two finally going to get together” Cal said peering over my shoulder and trying to take a peek at my texts with Harry. I just scoffed switching off my phone and turning my head to look at Cal. “Look he got out of a long term relationship not even six months ago, he just needs a friend right now, and that’s all I am, a friend, plus even if he hadn’t just gotten out of a relationship, well I don’t think he’d be interested in me anyway, like I said I’m just a friend” I shrugged to Cal giving him a half smile trying to cover the sadness which was evident on my face. “I don’t know Y/N if you ask me, or well any of the lads he looks at you like your a gift here gracing us all with your presence. like your some type of angel, he likes you, he really does, he’s just scared to ruin what you have” Cal stated as we hoped out the uber and made our ways into the lift. “Well I don’t want to sound rude, but I didn’t ask Cal, I don’t need my hopes being brought up just for it all to be speculation.” I stated matter of factly. “This is me, I’ll see you later yh?” I questioned Cal who just pursed his lips and nodded to me giving a small see ya. 

I really wasn’t trying to be rude but I had had my heartbroken so many times, and I don’t want to start getting my hopes up about Harry if it is just all speculation and some sort of narrative the lads were making up for themselves. I slumped down on my bed and posted a selfie on instagram asking people what they want to know about me. I wasn’t a huge YouTuber but I did have a large instagram following meaning the questions flooded in within an instant. There was the usual that I answered such as my favourite colour, what am I having for dinner, best place I had ever visited and so on. After a few more generic questions someone asked what my favourite picture was. I scrolled through my camera roll and found one of Harry and I at winter wonderland. we were both wearing Santa hats and he was giving me a piggy bag as I held onto a large teddy he had won me moments before. I captioned it ‘Christmas with my Bestfriend, look at how goofy he looks @wroetoshaw’ I giggled as I posted the pic remembering that day. it was a rare day off for the both of us and with Harrys break up still fresh I decided we should go to Winter Wonderland and just have fun. Which we did, it was one of my most treasured memories with him. He had taken his breakup so hard that I felt it was important that he had a friend around who could take the crying and emotions, someone to just cuddle with and forget about the world. And over the past few months I realised that my feelings for Harry had grown, but he was still hurting and there was no way that I was being any boys re-bound. 

I must have fallen asleep because I woke up to blaring light through the blinds of my lounge. I groaned to myself before getting up and trudging to my bedroom to sort myself out. i looked at my phone and I had a few texts from Harry. I smiled as I read them. 

‘Thank you! Almost forgot, you are honestly the best Xx’

‘You alive???? Xx’

‘Good night Xx’

‘Like the insta pic’

I furrowed my eyebrows at the last text. It was sent only minutes after the goodnight text and it didn’t have any of the kisses we usually put on the end of our texts to each other. I also hadn’t got a good morning text from Harry, that was particularly strange because I have always gotten a Good morning and Good night text from him for the past few months with out fail. I just shrugged it off before replying, 

‘Haha no problem! I fell asleep as soon as I got home I’m sorry :( wanna meet up later? Xx’

I smiled at my reply before going to my bedroom and changing to look more presentable. I checked my phone and it was almost lunch meaning Cal was coming over to film a video with me. just as I re adjusted my hair for the a millionth time I heard a knock on the door signalling that cal was here. “Hello stranger” I smiled letting him into my apartment with the array of crisps and snacks he had in his arms. We were filming a British corner shop mukbang whilst answering twitter questions. As Cal settled himself in my studio I helped by opening the array of snacks and cans of drink that he had bought for us. “Hey really weird question but have you heard from Harry today?” I questioned trying not to sound so desperate as to the whereabouts of the boy. “Uh yh messaging me all morning, think he’s got something on tonight. He not told you?” Cal looked up from the array of junk raising his eyebrows at me as I just shook my head in disbelief that he was ignoring me. As we settled in our seats and I turned the camera on I sent Harry a quick text. 

‘Hey have I done something wrong?? :( Xx’ 

The video was going amazing. Cal and I just naturally bounced off of each other and the questions the fans were giving us were quite juicy. “Alright, alright, I’ve got one. Y/N has Harry asked you out yet or is he still being a melt? From @CalFreezy” I giggled at the question and raised my eyebrows at Cal. “These are meant to be from Fans” I retorted to Cal telling him off a little. “Yh Freezy is your biggest fan he’s always nattering on about you and talking about you moving in with them when Harry gets the guts” Cal defended himself causing me to burst out laughing. “Well we all know Harry and I are friends, I love him very much but that’s as deep as it goes” I replied to Cals previous question from Freezy, slight sadness barely evident in my voice. “Is that the only thing that goes deep” Cal stated before bursting out laughing at himself and falling back in his chair ultimately falling off of it causing me to laugh. “Well that’s it for today guys thank you for watching and thanks to this idiot for joining me” I smiled at the camera before shutting it off and helping Cal from the floor. 

“You really need to stop that you know? You can’t force anything to happen” I said matter of factly towards cal as he nibbled on some Pringles. “You see Y/N I’m actually Cal from the future and I’m just stating facts” he gave me a cheesy grin as I tutted at him and rolled my eyes. I was taken out of my trance by a text from my phone. “Alright ditch me for lover boy” Cal called after me. I opened my phone to see it was from Harry but it wasn’t what I was expecting. 

‘Hey Y/N, we shouldn’t hang out anymore it makes Belle uncomfortable.’ 

“Cal what the fuck is this” I shouted to my friend. I heard the thudding of his feet and turned around to show him the message I had just received. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Belle Belle Belle Oh Belle, her really?” Cal scrunched his nose up at me. “Ummm elaborate, who’s Belle?” I pressed for him to release more info to me. “Oh Harry went on a date with her like three weeks ago, looks like it worked out, well for them I guess” Cal shrugged piecing the different parts of the puzzle together for me. “Oh, wow, so he is just gonna drop me like that, like I’m, I’m nothing, like i wasn’t the one there for him when he was mourning over his last breakup. Well that’s a kick in the teeth” I said starting to sniffle, tears threatening to break their way out of my eyes and my mood instantly dropping to nothing. “Hey no don’t cry” Cal said engulfing me in a hug, which I gladly melted into. “If he couldn’t see what he had with you then that boy is more blind than we all thought.” Cal reassured me rubbing my back. “Plus your make up looks too nice to cry it off” Cal said catching a stray tear from my face and making me giggle a little. “Oh Cal why can’t we fall in love?” I questioned sniffing and straightening out my clothes. “Because that would be like fucking my sister and that’s weird” Cal stated making me giggle. 

I don’t think anyone could quite get their heads wrapped around the fact that Harry was with someone new, especially because that someone was not me. For the next month I got fans tweeting me asking if Harry and I had broken up or if he had gone crazy. I also got sorry looks from my friends. Always being placed in the furthest seat away from Harry, always given excuses as to why I couldn’t come to shoots. It sucked majorly. And the worst part about all of this is everyone felt like they had to tread on eggshells around me, as if I wasn’t a fully grown woman who could handle these situations. 

I knocked on Simons apartment door before he opened it replying to someone about something. “Oh Y/N you alright” he said quickly closing the door a little. “Yh Talia said I could pop round and grab my camera that she borrowed.” I said smiling at the lanky man. “Oh yh well um come in, just be careful yh” Simon nodded at me. I furrowed my eyebrows and just nodded at his comment following him through to the living room. And as soon as I saw the tall figure sat next to Harry with an unimpressed look on her face I realised why Simon gave me such a warning. “Heyyyy Y/N Is here” Ethan called standing up giving me a hug making me giggle a little. “Yh Talia knicked my camera again” I stated smiling at the girl who blushed a little realising she still hadn’t returned my device. “Oh so that’s Y/N” a snotty voice said causing everyone to quiet down and all eyes turning in her direction. “Yup, the one and only” I smiled back at her trying to be as nice as possible. “Belle right? Nice to meet you” I smiled back at her trying to make conversation in the silent room. I rocked back and forth on my heels for a while, Belle gave me a good look up and down, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips as if wanting to comment something. Before she could I saw Harry whisper something to her and she scoffed. “If I have an opinion I’m going to say it. And I have many about her” Belle said loud enough for everyone to hear whilst pointing at me. “Here I found it” Talia smiled at me handing me my camera before noticing the mood of the room. 

“Ok well, I will be off then, lovely to see you all and to meet you Belle” I stated the last part through gritted teeth before spinning around and making my way to the door. “Even worse from the back” I heard Belle try and whisper to I presume Harry. I stopped in my tracks and raised my eyebrows. The audacity of this girl, how dare she disrespect me in front of all my friends. I turned around to meet her eyes with a sickeningly sweet smile on my face. Before I could say anything though Talia butted in. “You know what, you do not talk to my friend like that, I have barely known you a month and I am so sick of you already, please leave before I do or say something I regret” she smiled at Belle joining me by my side and linking arms with me. Belle just looked around at everyone, with everyone just averting their gaze and waiting for something big to happen. All she did was huff, grabbing Harrys hand and storming out of the apartment with him. 

“Jesus Y/N what did you do to make him choose her, she’s like an angry controlling goblin” Ethan huffed as soon as we all heard the door close. “Hey, I got cut off a long time ago, ask him not me” I giggled before thanking Talia and leaving the apartment to go home. 

I was lounging around my apartment, Ethans words spiralling around my head. I decided tonight was for me. I popped on my favourite movie and rummaged through my freezer finding some ben and Jerrys and starting to scoff down the tub. This sofa must be super man or something because I had soon fallen asleep, I was only awoken by loud continuous knocking at my door. I regained my focus and gaged my surrounding before wrapping a blanket around myself and making my way to the door. As soon as I opened it I was pulled into a bone crushing hug. “I’m so fucking sorry, its you its always been you, I don’t know what I was thinking, I just needed someone to fill the void and she was ok for a week but I need you. You are all I need, all I want, please forgive me I love you” as much as I just wanted to melt into his arms I pulled my self back so that we were an arm lengths apart. “You best come in” I sighed. I finished the teas and made my way over to Harry, passing him his favourite mug of mine. I crossed my legs as we sat at opposite ends of the sofa in silence. 

“What about Belle?” I broke the silence, harry whipped his head up to look at me. “Look I’m so sorry she was a mistake and I should never have even given her shot. She’s so nasty and I could never forgive myself. This past month without you has felt like my heart was ripped in two. I’ve been so miserable and then when I saw you today I felt like I had been given a new chance at life. I get it if you hate me but I need you so bad and I cant live without you.” Harry opened his heart to me for the second time that evening. “You’re such a dummy Harry” I said with a sigh placing my mug on the coffee table. Harry looked at me as if he was broken by the words I just said. I just shook my head at him before leaning over and planting a soft kiss on his lips. The moment seemed to last forever. It was like in the movies when time slowed down and fireworks erupted around the couple who after all their trials and tribulations finally found each other. “I can’t help but love you Harry” I whispered only inches from his face as I pulled back for air, a sly grin on my face. Harrys arms snaked around my wait brining me into him for another soft kiss. i leant my head on his chest listening to his heart, thumping like it was going to break out and slap me in the face. “So what now” harry mumbled into my hair. I leant up so my eyes met his. “Well you will ask me on a date to a nice restaurant where we end up getting a little too drunk. Then we walk along the Thames, watching people walk by when at the perfect moment when the city goes silent you ask me to be your girlfriend and then we come back here and spend the night together. But with a little more physical activity than were used to” I grinned at him causing him to chuckle. “So you forgive me?” He said looking at me with pleading eyes. “God yes I forgive you, I could never be mad at you” I smiled at him. How could I? I did truly love him and it was as simple as that. 

After a few months, and the date Harry had promised, we told our friends and announced to our followers that we had finally decided to get together. apparently it was quite obvious as the boys had started taking bets as to when we would tell them about our new relationship. The fans seemed to love it as well, always receiving amazing and supportive comments on all of our posts and videos that we did together. Although we were young I think people saw how care free and happy we made each other. Most importantly how much we loved each other.

[i-may-have-a-point]

Review of 17x14 “Look Up Child”

It has been three years since I wrote my last review of a Grey’s Anatomy episode.  After Sarah left, I stepped away from my fan accounts and did not plan on ever looking back.  Somehow though, through the dedication of our captains and the strength of the Japril fandom, we got one more episode that confirmed what we have known all along – Japril is forever.  

The episode opens to Jackson driving through a storm and we can see in his eyes that he is fighting an internal storm as well.  He winces at his injured hand while his mind flashes through thoughts of holding Harriet with April for the first time, the pain of watching April marry Matthew, and meeting his dad.  These moments, along with many others have led Jackson yearning for more out of life, and so he returns to Montana hopeful he will find answers there.

The last thing Robert Avery expects, for a second time, is to find the son he left behind standing in the doorway of his restaurant.  

“Everybody alive?” Robert asks.

Jackson making this journey again, after the way they left things before, could only be for one reason in Robert’s mind.  Jackson reassures him that is not the reason he came, and Robert relaxes easily into his friendly charm, offering coffee and a place for Jackson to “take a load off.”  He has no idea of the “load” Jackson truly bears.

Robert is awaiting the arrival of his co-worker so they can deliver pre-packaged meals to families in need in their community.  This gesture may seem small, but to Jackson, this is a subtle sign that he on the right path.  There is more he can do than what he has found within the walls of Grey-Sloan Memorial. Their small talk is awkward, and Jackson wants to get right to what he came for – answers.  Robert has other ideas.  There are sandwiches to be made and they can talk while they work.

After following Robert to the porch, Jackson realizes this sandwich-making process is going to be more time-consuming than he thought.  And so is getting the answers he came for.  He reiterates to Robert that he doesn’t want anything from him – not turkey, not coffee – just answers.

Jackson presses his dad for information about why he left the foundation, the problems he saw with it, and Catherine’s perspective on it all while Robert deflects the questions with vague answers and praise of the ham and turkey sandwich.  Robert is not ready to answer these questions because answering them would mean dealing with the memories of the past and the regret he carries.  So instead, he smiles kindly and puts Jackson in charge of the meat slicer, which leads to the first moment in Jackson’s life where his dad taught him how to do something. (Although we all know he didn’t teach him well!) This interaction allows Jackson to let his guard down just slightly and they find they have some common views on the Avery name, money, and pressure that comes with it all.  Jackson tries some of Robert’s “best in the state” turkey and Robert opens up about his own shame and abandonment by his father. It seems pain runs through generations of Avery men.

Maybe it is that realization, or the cup of Robert’s coffee in his hand, that makes Jackson relax enough to begin opening up.  He shares his desire to do more to change the system has seen fail so many people.  He isn’t even sure if he can, but he knows he feels compelled to try.  Robert agrees that people should do what makes them happy.  He did and he “never looks back.”

But Jackson does.  He can’t stop looking back and wondering why his dad was absent from every moment that mattered.  

“I realize that it’s really messed me up…pretty badly. And, um, it just made it hard to maintain relationships and stuff.  Having this inclination to run away all the time.  And I know, I know, running away doesn’t actually solve anything.  I know that. So…and I’ve tried.  I’ve tried really hard to rid myself of the shame and the pain that comes with all that, and uh, you know just kind of doubled-down on being the best at everything – the best father I could possibly be.  I probably stayed in my marriage longer than I should have, went along with foundation business longer than I should have, but no matter what, when it gets rough I just end up right there, running into the woods trying to fight the you in me.”

What begins as a tearful explanation builds to all of Jackson’s pent-up emotions overflowing at his dad.  He is distracted and emotional, cutting his hand on the slicer with blood pouring out, while his heart pours out at the same time.  

Robert tends to Jackson’s injury, and they both feel it is a simple gesture that holds more weight than they know what to do with.  Robert tries to make light of the situation by joking about a family practice, but it is the idea of them as family that sends Jackson to find fresh air on the porch. It is here where Robert finally answers Jackson’s question of “Why?”

Running is what Robert does when things get too difficult, and that is what makes Jackson so afraid. He feels the same pull.  Just before he cut his hand, he was running down the long list of things he feels he has done wrong. Does he truly believe he stayed in his marriage too long?  No. But to Jackson that is just one more way he is like his dad.  He is so messed up by the fear of turning into Robert that he breaks things off before they get too difficult, before he gets to the point Robert did.  If he can maintain a safe distance to the important things in his life, he won’t lose them and he won’t be like Robert.  “My divorce…maybe that would have been a good time for you to step in and share some wisdom.”  This isn’t who Jackson wants to be, but he is too scared of moving in either direction – scared of moving both toward or away from the things that matter, like April.  So instead, he suffers in an ambiguous middle ground.  One where he hasn’t completely abandoned anyone or anything and one where he hasn’t fully committed to anything either.  It is a balance he has tried to find for years, but it is also what is breaking him now.  

Truth be told, even Robert cannot fully run from what matters.  From his cabin in the woods, he admits that everyday he regrets leaving, and he buys gifts for a little girl he has never met in hopes that one day he will.

“You’re not a runner. If you were, you’d have been long gone by now…you have it in your soul to do the right thing.  To makes things right.  And you didn’t just fix a disaster, you made it better…on your worst day, you are ten times the man I am.”

And it is with those words Jackson makes his decision.  He is going to do the right thing.  He is going to take what seems like a disaster and make it better.

Arriving back in Seattle, Jackson goes straight to the people who matter most.  

Catherine is his first stop. He needs her blessing to take over the foundation.  Their money and influence can make life better for all people by bringing justice and equity to medicine and build a better future for Harriet.  Catherine’s Mama-heart breaks a little to see him go, but she cannot deny how proud of him she is.

With the rain still coming down, Jackson rings April’s doorbell and stresses over how he is going to approach asking her to move across the country for him.  How can he explain to her that this is not impulsive, this is not something he is doing on a whim?  

Yet, when the door opens, all his insecurities are quickly forgotten because seeing April only reminds him of why they have always been each other’s person and how she has always trusted him no matter what.  She trusted him the night of the boards with her heart and virginity, she trusted him with the decision to induce her pregnancy with Samuel to stop his pain, and she trusted him to run away from her wedding and the life she thought she was supposed to have.  But this is different.  So much has changed in the past few years.  Would she trust him now?

Jackson will have to wait to find out, though, because April is frantic.  Harriet is sick and April cannot get her fever down.  Jackson sees how stressed she is and immediately gives April what she needs.  He takes Harriet into her arms, both consoling her and helping April calm down and have a moment to breathe.  They fall into their usual banter and affectionate teasing.

Their conversations and interactions throughout the episode give us small glimpses of what we should have had the past several years had their story been written they way it should have been.  They naturally fall into their place as the loving, concerned parents unable to sleep while caring for their daughter.  They move through the house and around each other as if this is a familiar dance that they have done hundred times before.

Harriet’s sickness doesn’t seem to be the only thing April is stressed about.  Her living room is strewn with laundry and she quickly tries to clean it up while Jackson reassures her in his “bank voice” that it is fine. Too many pillows, but otherwise, fine. Jackson continues Daddy Duty by dancing with his daughter and April gets a chance to take a much-needed shower…until the storm knocks the power out.

Jackson and April alone at night in a storm, surrounded by candles, is the perfect set-up for an epic reunion, and while they may not have utilized the kitchen counter like we wanted them, too, they did reconnect on a level of clarity and maturity that shows how much they have grown.

There is also that not-so-little issue of Matthew.  Japril fans spotted early on that April was missing a particularly important ring, but it was even more telling when Jackson asked her directly if her and Matthew are happy, and she responded with simply, “We are busy.”  For a marriage that the terrible writing of season 14 wanted us to believe was ordained by God, how sad that you can’t even pretend to be happy. That one line conveyed so much more than what was stated.  It was clear from that point that Matthew and April’s marriage was over.

April is not the only one beating around the bush.  She quickly calls Jackson out on his “cagey” behavior of commenting on her exposed brick instead of saying why he actually showed up at her house late at night in the middle of a storm.  She can read him so well she knows there is something more, which is when we finally find out his plan – he is going to take over the Avery Foundation. The catch is, that means Jackson, as well as April and her family, have to move to Boston.

April responds by questioning if this is what Jackson actually wants because it never was before.  Is he going to move to Boston and then fail or regret his decision?  And while this seems unsupportive and harsh, April has to ask these questions because, as we find out later, that is exactly what happened to her.  She thought she was choosing the right path by marrying Matthew, but not only has their marriage failed, she regrets that they even tried. But Jackson doesn’t know this yet, so to defend his decision he uses Matthew proposing to April as an example of how he unconditionally supported her which not only hints at Jackson’s jealousy, but reinforces April’s fear that making a decision this big may not be the best choice.  She sees happiness for Jackson in the safe choice.  He can continue to rebuild faces, give little boy’s hands, and help people breathe again.  Maybe if she can convince him to stay with what he knows he won’t feel the hurt she is feeling right now. “Why would you want to give all that up?”

Jackson knows he can do all of that and more in Boston.  He can make a positive change in medicine, April can continue her work with the homeless, and Matthew will just follow because it is April, and that is the one reason Jackson likes him.  “He is gonna want to follow you anywhere.”  Jackson understands the urge to follow April anywhere.  The night continues with wine, snacks, and comfortable conversation but they don’t come to an agreement on what their future holds.

The storm breaks and morning comes.  Jackson, recognizing that April has been overwhelmed lets her sleep in, and she wakes up to the sounds of Harriet and Jackson happily eating breakfast and we get a glimpse of their happy, family mornings that we all know Boston will bring.  The three of them laugh and talk over pancakes, orange juice, and throw pillows and April admits that she should have been more supportive of Jackson’s plans.  If only they could get their timing right.  

The morning has brought with it clarity for April and she tells Jackson her answer is yes.  Yes, she believes he is “that guy.” Yes, she believes this could work.  Yes, they are going to Boston.  Shocked and surprised, Jackson offers to help talk to Matthew, but we find out that won’t be necessary.  As most of us suspected, the marriage that should have never happened is over.  One of the best lines of the episode is the slight dig that the writers (Sarah/Jesse?) took at the ridiculous story of April marrying Matthew.  “We kept trying to tell ourselves that our whole winding road was God’s plan to bring us back together.  But he was still so angry and hurt.  I mean, I left him at the altar and his wife died.  You know, you don’t just stop feeling hurt ‘cause it’s a better story if God brought us together in our pain.”  Enough said. And as much as we are not sad to see Matthew go, April is hurting, and Jackson recognizes that.  He takes her hand in a small gesture of comfort because he never wants to see her in pain.  (Thank you, Jesse, for improvising that.)  He gave her a reason to smile again.  Their family has a fresh start ahead in Boston.  

The episode closes with Harriet calling out for “Mommy and Daddy” as Jackson pulls April into a hug before leaving to prepare for their move, and April folds perfectly into his arms where she is supposed to be.  Fingers crossed for new horizons.  Maybe they finally did get their timing right.

[anon-rebel-writes]

Something Simple

Hi! Hey! How’s it going? Good? That’s so good!

So I’ve been gone...Ha ha. I feel like I should have an excuse ready, and an apology, and a promise to do better in the future. But honestly, I don’t have...any of those.

Well I do have an apology, I’m sorry that I’ve been gone and kinda just left the internet. I don’t really look at social media as much as I used to (which honestly is super good for mental health, but kinda sucky if you do stuff on social media :P)

I haven’t had a ton of ideas lately, and when I do, I get frustrated with myself because it’s not the most amazing piece that I’ve ever worked on. I had a serious talk with my girlfriend (she’s seriously the majority of my inspiration for most of my works) and she said something that gave me an epiphany.

Sometimes you just have to make some sucky tea until you make the best tea of your life :) (I swear that makes more sense if you read the story lol)

I like domestic fluff. I like short and simple stories. So that’s what this is! I don’t wanna waste my time waiting fro inspiration to strike when I can make something to get me through writer’s block! So if you don’t mind my wacky schedule, I hope you enjoy this simple piece :)

It begins under the cut! <3 Ao3 Link

This should be easy.

It used to be easy for him when he was younger. When he was five, Luka would listen to the waves on the boat and hear a unique tune out of it. At eleven, his mom told him about an old tale she heard and he wrote lyrics based on it. Sixteen, Juleka would idly pluck her bass and he’d come up with three different songs just from the sound. Music was natural to him.

Now it was hard. Nothing inspired him. He was supposed to be a musical guy. How could this tear him down so easily! Maybe his life was too good now. No problems to sing about, no unrequited love songs, no daddy issues. His life was great! What happened to him?

After his dad came back into his life, he appreciated their little relationship. They would jam out and have fun, although it was still awkward to call him ‘dad’, it still seemed fine. He found out a lot of weird stuff with magic and identities when he was younger, but it led to Marinette confessing a huge secret to him. Misunderstandings got cleared up and they ended up reigniting their romantic relationship. After proposing to her last year, they got an apartment that was perfect for them.

Everything was perfect, really. Maybe that was the problem, everything was perfect. Juleka did tease him lately about “losing his edge”. Was his edge gone? His blue dyed hair was barely visible nowadays, any tattoos he got during university were usually covered up by his vast collection of MDC sweaters, even his ear piercings were replaced with whatever colored ones matched his outfit that day!

Maybe he was getting old. He was getting engaged to one of the sweetest people in the world, maybe her sugar-like sweetness rubbed off on him.

Was his music destined to be lost to the winds forever? Did all the talent leave his blood the moment he started settling into a domestic life? Juleka seemed to keep her musical charm, she still did small gigs with Rose in coffee shops every now and then. Ivan even toured around with his new band after university.

All Luka did now was make instruments. Was that even close to musical? His dad supported his career decision, despite intense protests. His in-laws helped him open a little shop. Everything was so easy and simple.

Even now, he waited for Marinette to come home so they could finish watching 'Halloween Wars'. He spends his nights watching reality television. Who has he become?!

It clearly led him here, on his couch, guitar in hand, with no progress being made. He wanted to make something fantastic. Something that Marinette would hear and be reminded of the songs he used to write for her. Luka would sing to her and he would tell himself how he “still has it”.

But nothing came out. No tune, no music, no notes, no lyrics, nothing. Luka sighed and put his guitar on the side of the couch and decided to take his mind off of music, at least for now. A little break should be good! Looking across the living room, he realized the utter mess he made.

Music sheets were scattered across the coffee table, pencils somehow found their way to the floor. Maybe he should clean up, just to have a clean environment to work in.

…

Or maybe he should make himself some tea. Tea always gets creative juices flowing! Not cleaning up, nope. That’s what people do when they’re avoiding stuff and Luka Couffaine does not avoid stuff! Especially not cleaning messes that look like a natural disaster hit his living room. Nope, not avoiding.

So that’s where Marinette found the love of her life two hours later after work. In the kitchen, making tea, warzone in the living room and his heart clearly broken. Opening the apartment door and seeing the utter chaos made her remember just who she was about to marry, but going into the kitchen and seeing the look of despair on his face when he realized they had no honey for his tea was just plain sad.

She took off her shoes and coat and walked over to where he stood, hunched over the counter, staring deeply into his bitter tea. Her arms wrapped around his middle and she let her head rest between his shoulder blades. “Lu? You okay?”

Instead of answering, Luka gently stirred the tea with a spoon and shook his head. “...we forgot to buy honey.”

“And…that’s the only reason you seem upset?”

One quick glance over to the living room definitely made her question if honey was truly the culprit. Then again this wouldn’t be the first time a Couffaine had caused trouble for something small. She’d never forget the shape of the boat after the Captain had lost her favorite headband.

“I… can’t make music anymore.”

Marinette slowly let go of his midsection and turned him to face her. She squinted at his face, trying to see if this was an elaborate joke. “Uh- No offense, but that doesn’t seem possible. I mean… music is second nature to you.”

“You don’t get it. I lost my edge! I’m not cool anymore. I don’t have daddy issues, or love issues, or school issues, or work issues, or-”

“Yeah yeah, you were an angsty boy. But music didn’t come from you because you were edgy. Music is just a part of who you are. Whether you have issues or not. And believe me, the songs you used to write for me were anything but edgy.”

Luka sighed and grabbed his cup of bitter tea. He looked in it and gave it to Marinette. “This tea sucks. It’s like my music. It doesn’t have that ‘umph’ that it needs to be good.” She looked into the cup and decided to take a sip. She let the flavor sit on her tongue for a bit and stared back into the cup, thinking to herself for a second.

“The tea isn’t great, I’ll give you that. But that doesn’t mean it’s bad. It’s just… simple. Nothing too extraordinary, nothing too disgusting. It just tastes like tea. And maybe you just need to make simple tea every once in a while before you can go back to making your delicious Luka juice.”

He chuckled at her analogy and took the tea cup back to give it one last sip. Honestly Marinette was right, although she always tended to be right about these things, the tea wasn’t awful. It wasn’t his favorite, but not every song is his favorite either.

She gave him a kiss on his cheek before heading over to their bedroom.

Luka decided to move back over to the living room to clean the area up a little bit. He put away the massive amount of paper and took most of the pencils from the area, leaving only one sheet of music, his guitar, and a single pencil.

He let out a deep sigh and sat back down on the couch, grabbing his guitar. He sat back and stared down at the music sheet on the table. “Something simple, huh?”

[bronyinabottle]

G5 MOVIE THOUGHTS FOLLOWUP - THE ANCIENT EQUESTRIAN ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM

SPOILER WARNING: THIS WILL GET INTO SPOILERS FOR THE G5 MOVIE EVEN BEFORE THE BREAK. IT HAS BEEN JUST OVER A WEEK SINCE THE MOVIE PREMIERED. BUT IF YOU STILL HAVEN'T SEEN IT, PLEASE SCROLL PAST THIS.

This is something of a follow-up to my thoughts on the movie. My thoughts on the movie were generally positive. Though much like the movie itself, the positive thoughts were on what it’s doing on it’s own merit as the start of a new generation of pony media. As someone who had followed Generation 4 from all the way in the middle of Season 1 to the ending of Season 9, the connection the G5 movie makes with the previous generation in the opening scenes are enough that it’s necessary to give a perspective from a G4 fan’s point of view. Again, I do want to say that G5 will be within it’s right to not have to answer so many plot things at once and try to stand on it’s own by exploring the characters and this new Equestria first.

That said, it shouldn’t be a surprise that the longer none of the questions G4 fans will have are answered. There is a huge elephant in the room with the unanswered questions from G4. And It is Hasbro’s fault in the first place for telling us it’s the same Equestria, There will be fans that are annoying about it from multiple angles, and there will probably be times where people who just want to enjoy G5 on it’s own just outright snap at anyone who wants their answers about what happened in between G4 and G5. Even if the person who asks the question is just genuinely curious and not being demanding there be answers. This is just the kind of thing that all fandoms that have timeskip sequels, especially ones where it overrides a happy ending where discussing with other friends can get dicey.

HAPPY ENDING OVERRIDES AND ALICORNS

Until we get an official answer from the show itself, we can only theorize with each other. Though theorizing about a happy ending override, regardless of how long it’s been and/or how sensible the theory is can start some heated discussions, Cause many were content with the happy ending of the original. While no realistic story ever has a happily ever after, a story within a fantasy land such as MLP’s can be an exception.

Let me give something of a comparison by bringing up another show. Avatar: The Last Airbender is perhaps my favorite show of all-time. And while it’s true I didn’t like the sequel series Korra as much as A:TLA. It wasn’t because of some happy ending override with at least half of the main cast from the previous series deceased. The Avatars themselves are just as human as the other characters in the world. Avatar’s still a fantasy world when all is said and done, but the way the world building is done still made it feel like it it was possible for the world to be in danger again by the time the next Avatar is grown up, most known Avatars had challenges they had to face. The Avatar series blends some form of realism but still manages to provide a fun fantasy world. It’s a case where it’s believable that the main legacy of Aang’s time as the Avatar aside from defeating the Fire Lord where he created Republic City would have it’s own fair share of problems that would be left to his successor to solve. Aang in turn was finishing the war that Roku failed to stop. So while I have my criticisms about Korra, none of those are related to the way the world is after the timeskip. It reasonably makes sense in the context of the Avatar universe.

In contrast, there isn’t much we know about the past of G4 and it’s a much more idealistic setting then in Avatar. Yes, ponies die with what I assume are human-esque lifespans for the exception of the Alicorns. But Friendship is Magic is a setting where the power of friendship is literal magic power that can save the day even when things look bleak. As a result it can get very sappy, but FiM is the kind of show you watch to put a smile on your face rather then go to for a multi-faceted plot. Most episodes of FiM are the kind of thing you see in a lot of other shows. But what brings most of it’s fans back even for the most overdone plots is the characters and their interactions. FiM’s lore is a lot less straight forward, and sometimes may feel not as consistent given there were so many different writers over the long span of time. That said, there is something about the series that sort of ties in heading into G5 and that’s G4’s history, and especially Alicorn lore. We don’t get a lot of either even back in G4, as the most we get is the founding of Equestria was through the Hearth’s Warming Eve story, and the knowledge that Alicorns like Celestia and Luna are at least older then 1000. Which is a huge gap compared to the Avatars that no matter how powerful, have similar mortality to our own. Throughout G4’s time, the debate about Alicorns have raged throughout the whole time even before things got really heated upon Twilight becoming an Alicorn in Magical Mystery Cure. Some went with Celestia and Luna being the only immortal Alicorns while Cadence and Twilight were somehow lesser Alicorns that aren’t immortal but maybe at least still a longer lifespan then their normal pony friends and family. Though as of Season 9, that may be turned on it’s head when in The Last Problem. Twilight eventually grows to Celestia-size as Celestia and Luna even retire to let Twilight succeed them. If Twilight is somehow a lesser Alicorn, why did she grow to Celestia’s size? Why did Celestia and Luna retire in the first place if they knew Twilight will not be as long lived as they are? Perhaps part of the reason G5 has as many questions as it does is because G4 itself created questions it never promised to answer.

That said, the implied length of Celestia and Luna’s rule still presents G5 with a problem that will be asked everywhere. Even if we go with the possibility that most of the Mane 6 have passed from old age, you still have to answer something about Twilight. If Twilight is also dead, how long did she live? Did she at least have an over-1000 year reign as Celestia did? Was perhaps Luster Dawn chosen to be her younger co-ruler if Luster herself ascended at some point? The kind of things that might actually force G5 into a corner when it comes to Alicorns despite the fact G4 never had to, especially now that Sunny may have just become one herself. This is once again, another of the traps Hasbro put the writing team through by having them put it in the same world. G5 thus not only adds questions about what happened in between the Generations, but also now has to inherit what remained unanswered in G4. That is a VERY tall task on a team that will likely just want to do their own little fun pony show. It’ll raise expectations too high, and there will be annoyed fans regardless how they spin it. Which could have all been avoided if they set it up that this was an entirely new world, or made G4 a fictional story (With all the references to it being mainly merchandise for a really meta look at things) in the G5 universe. You’d still have people complaining about it not being as good as G4 probably, but the approach they went with added more gasoline to the fire whenever G4 Vs. G5 debates happen in the MLP fandom. And inter-fandom generation fights are never fun, just ask the Pokemon and the Sonic fandoms how that turns out (Even though there’s no Generation number count for the Sonic franchise. You could say Gen 1 of Sonic was the classic era. Gen 2 was the Sonic Adventure Era. Gen 3 was the “Dark Age” Sonic 2006-Sonic Unleashed era. Gen 4 the Sonic Colors and Generations era. and Gen 5 the current Sonic Forces and Team Sonic Racing era. And then of course there’s also the different TV shows and comic books that also have their own fans that can be at each other’s throats).

There isn’t going to be an easy solution to something that will no doubt have fans on the edge on their seat even if they will be left to hang on that edge for a longtime before G5 starts to give some answers. I think I’ll at least bring up 3 things that will probably be part of the discussions of just what happened between G4 and G5

(More after the break)

1. AND THEN EVERYTHING CHANGED WHEN THE FIRE NATION AN UNKNOWN THREAT ATTACKED

With G4 being considered Ancient Equestria. It’s probably safe to assume this is at least 1,000 years after G4. And 1,000 or more is a really, really, long time. Where anything could of happened, including *GASP* a villain actually winning at some point (Or at least, did some lasting damage even if they were ultimately defeated). Though I think even with that possibility, there has to be a sense that the villain didn’t defeat the Mane 6 while the other members aside from Twilight were still alive. If Twilight was at some point defeated. Perhaps the villain struck when Twilight was most vulnerable. You could also have it that Twilight somehow sacrificed herself to defeat a large threat. She saved Equestria one last time, but at the cost of even her long-lasting alicorn life. With the populace left on their own to continue life without Twilight, but the loss of their longtime leader too much for Equestria. Thus a slow decline happened.

As for who the threat was it’ll probably be a while if we ever know. Perhaps the real Grogar showed up at some point and was truly a harrowing threat to deal with. Or something entirely new. Maybe it wasn’t even a villain, but a catastrophic natural disaster. Whatever it is, if this is the case. We’d have to deal with the sad thought of something being too much for even Twilight to handle

2. TWILIGHT BECAME DEPRESSED/JADED AFTER HER FRIENDS PASSED. POSSIBLY EVIL TOO?

This would basically be the cliche sadfic ending. Where after everyone of the Mane 6 has passed. Twilight just never felt the same afterward. Though I do feel like there is the slight counterpoint that maybe Twilight would still have Celestia and/or Luna (maybe, again we’ve never ever gotten full confirmation of how long Alicorns live. Just assured that it’s more then 1000 years) and she’d most certainly still have a full grown Spike and any of her friends descendants. Death is always a sad reality, but you have to wonder if Twilight would have prepared herself by the time that comes. Twilight would have not gone as far as she did without the rest of the Mane 6. But while I’m sure it would be a tearjerking moment, it’s not like Twilight wouldn’t have other friends she made throughout the generations. Celestia and Luna also must of gone through the same thing living for more then 1000 years, yet they seem pretty fine. So while the subject of “immortality blues” is prime for sadfic material in the fandom. It feels like there’d have to be more nuance then that, if this were the reason the time between G4 and G5 led into each other.

Supposedly, this theory is picking up some form of steam. To the point that a head canon is rolling around is that it was actually Twilight who sealed the magic away in the first place for one reason or another. Essentially making Twilight, in a huge plot twist, a villain in G5 or at the very least someone who took the magic with them into some form of Limbo very similar to Starswirl and the other founders during the Season 7 finale. I… personally don’t know how I’d feel about that. They’d have to be very careful with the execution of such a twist. And I’d want more nuance then simply Twilight getting sad about the deaths of her friends. At the very least, it’d likely eventually get to a point where this villainous incarnation of Twilight is reformed and probably becomes a recurring character from then on. But the writers will have to tread very carefully if this is the direction they take.

3. G5 IS AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT UNIVERSE/TIMELINE. JUST FOR THE MOST PART THE MAJOR EVENTS OF "ANCIENT EQUESTRIA" STILL HAPPENED

Perhaps this last one really gets into a more desperate side to deflect any possibility that the ending of G4 could of deteriorated into what the world becomes at the start of G5. I know there will be plenty that will be too frustrated with the lack of satisfactory answers that they annoy people in the comment sections, getting into situations where sometimes the only answer to those people will be others that just want to watch G5 as a fun show with a “cope”, “read a history book”, or “deal with it”. But honestly, there can be a case here. As I mentioned in my thoughts in the movie. There are visual details on characters and/or lore that while they may seem minor, to the point that even if they do ever answer important questions such as what caused magic to disappear and/or what happened to Alicorns like Twilight. That the staff may ignore completely because they think it’s too small of a detail to bother including. But the most nitpicky fan can and will latch on small excuses into why it can’t be the same.

Let’s begin with the one-sided Cutie Mark. Again, while it’s true that previous generations made this a tradition. And it was only on one side on the G4 toys as well, as the actual reason it was on both sides in the G4 show was because it was easier for the flash animators. That said, it’s still a big pony design inconsistency. Because regardless of it was only to make things easier, it became a staple because of how long G4 lasted. So it was still so weird to see early screenshot and artwork of G5 characters with grown ponies with no mark. When that wasn’t possible in G4, as it turned out it was because the one-sided cutie mark returned. But one side as opposed to both sides is still a significant difference. Similarly, the horns and wingtips being a different color then the coat may also be a significant difference. Of course I know it can be just waved off as art style difference, as the art direction is no longer based on what Faust wanted the ponies to look like. It’s still plausible enough for someone to discredit it as truly in continuity with G4. Cause even for those that are on the side of “More then 1000 years is a long time, anything could of happened” it’s a lot harder to argue against inconsistencies such as cutie marks only being on one side unless they switch gears to the meta explanation of “G4’s double sided cutie mark was not intentional, at least at first”. But from what most people saw in the G4 show, G4 ponies had marks on both sides. And the G5 ponies don’t. It’s again, quite nitpicky. But it’s enough to start a case that at the very least, the ancient past of G4 is not 100% the same G4 we saw in the show.

Speaking of not the same G4 we saw in the show, another possibility is that G5 actually came out of an alternate timeline. Where perhaps the last two seasons did not happen. If perhaps it’s a timeline where major events in the show either ended anywhere between the end of Season 4 or the end of Season 7, then it starts to feel a little more possible. (Supposedly, the tree of harmony in it’s Season 9 form that might counteract it. But then again it had none of the treehouse architecture and was all wood. Which ironically may lead into it leaning more that the G4 show isn’t the same continuity). If the events of the Friendship School nor everything else that leads to the ending we saw in The Last Problem. It’d be a lot more palatable because the pretty much implied world peace ending with non-ponies in the mix included is discounted. There’d still be questions even in this scenario, like did Celestia and Luna still retire in this timeline then. And regardless if they did or not, the show would still be burdened with the question of what happened to the Alicorns. But it’d at least solve the most pressing question with the peace of The Last Problem being squandered. Because perhaps in this timeline, the Mane 6 never went that far. Perhaps it would imply some sort of indirect failure in that case. But this is perhaps a scenario they had a similar foreign policy as Celestia did. Not really hostile to anyone, but not intervening even in ways that could be helpful. Heck, if we go far enough in saying that G5\s G4 (As confusing as that may sound) was different from what we saw in Friendship is Magic, what if there were differences even early on for one reason or another? With how vague the connection is, we only know that the Mane 6 were friends and Twilight still became a princess at some point. From there. potentially a lot of other things may have gone differently other then that.

Again, saying G5 is a completely different universe/timeline is probably always going to sound like a desperate way for people who cannot possibly believe the ending of G4 eventually led to the start of G5. And I’d understand why that’ll annoy people who just want to watch the G5 series on it’s own merits. But it really wouldn’t be entirely the fans to blame for that attitude. G4 lasted a whole decade, many got attached to the characters/world we saw that had about the happiest ending it could possibly be. It should naturally make people unhappy that in a few ways it’s stomping over a happy ending for this fantasy world that many watched to escape from the realities of the real world.

Even with the long time allotted of 1000+ years or more, that’s made complicated by the implied long lives of the Alicorns from G4. Only opening up that can of worms further by seemingly making Sunny an alicorn. There’s a debate on whether this form is permanent, but if it’s NOT permanent. That arguably adds yet another addition to the list of reasons it may fall out of continuity. The only time we had a temporary Alicorn transformation (outside of Animation errors, or dream sequences like Big Mac’s) was when Cozy was an Alicorn after receiving some of the magic from Grogar’s bell. But even in that case, Cozy’s wings were not more like a glowy hologram like Sunny’s wings seem to be. And even if it is permanently on Sunny now, the design for Alicorns is too different. Adding onto the one-sided cutie marks, and different colored wings and horns. So the G5 writers may actually be stuck in a lose/lose situation when it comes to Alicorns after the ending of the movie. I think whether Sunny is permanently an Alicorn or not, they may not elaborate enough about it. And it’ll be among the headaches in the comment section (Though may at least be a reprieve from the political discussions G5 are going to have on occasion I imagine.)

Hasbro chose to try to say this is the same Equestria, and a new show needs conflicts to solve. But from the perspective of some G4 fans… it forces a world they loved, to get torn down into arguably a more divided world then even the Hearth’s Warming tale. Which said tale seems to have been implied to be from before Princess Celestia and Luna were around (Based on the lore of the unicorns being the one to raise the sun and moon) and thus yes. Somehow, if everything that happened in G4 is canon to G5. Then the world peace in The Last Problem in just a thousand years or so become worse then even Celestia’s sole rule.

RESPONDING TO “READ A HISTORY BOOK”

I’ve mentioned before, you can try to point to World History to point why this is a realistic take. But again, we don’t have an ancient civilization from 1000 years ago that we look up to as the pinnacle of peace in the world (Like I said, the Golden age of Ancient Greece and/or Rome still had slavery and brutal wars). That has literally never happened. What was shown in the Last Problem very much looked like it was that for Equestria. I feel it’s a terrible interpretation of time, especially in regards to the context that the leaders of Equestria tend to live for at least more then 1000 years to imply things would just go backward like that.

CONCLUSION

The movie on it’s own merits is a good start for the generation, though at the same time. It’s going to have some hard questions that’ll often be no-win situations for the writers. They can choose to ignore the G4 questions, understandably trying to tiptoe around as many cans of worms as possible which would allow them to do whatever the heck they want with G5. Maybe even getting a few stragglers frustrated with no answers to just shrug and continue watching anyway if the show entertains them enough. Or they can certainly try to at least give some answers on the biggest questions (What happened to the magic, and/or what was the fate of G4’s alicorns) but risk having an answer that just adds even more questions.

The movie is a decent start for a new generation if you only view it as a pilot for a new series, but if you view it as a sequel to Friendship is Magic. There are certainly problematic issues with that currently. Maybe the special in Spring, or the eventual Series will cover some of this but it does leave fans waiting a while for answers that they’re not promised to get, or at least not as quickly as they’d like. Remember when I mentioned that I may view some of this similarly to how I was about Starlight Glimmer after her sudden redemption at the end of Season 5? With many questions I wanted to know about Starlight before I could really accept her as a recurring character? (And not really fully coming into terms with her until I expanded on her myself in a story for I Dream of Twilight Sparkle) This may be how I have to view the connection of G4 and G5.

They can go one of two routes: At least try to give as much of a clear explanation as possible. Even if it’s one that doesn’t exactly answer everything, at least giving a good try may help with those who have questions remaining in relation to G4. If instead however, they go the Season 6 Starlight route of just about ignoring all the questions fans have, it’ll make things frustrating for many. At least with Starlight, she wasn’t the major focus in every episode. That said, Season 6’s job was to endear us more to her reformed character. Now with G5’s setup, it may be running well into a corner where they must try to answer what happened in between G4 and G5 or else you end up making a lot of fans lukewarm or worse to your series. Starlight’s reformation and then lack of ability of Season 6 to explain more about Starlight to us was a divisive moment. And G5 involving G4 brings over the same kind of feeling but on a larger scale because now it’s in the very premise of the generation’s plot, it’s less avoidable compared to one character. Because even when it comes to episodes that will not further the plot and it’s just a fun friendly moment between the members of the mane 5, this movie is how they met and thus the not fully explained premise would always be looming over like a large shadow. It probably doesn’t help that they’re basically starting with a reformed Starlight-esque moment when it comes to introducing it’s premise AND on top of that something similar although certainly with at least a lot less backlash then with Alicorn Twilight since it came so soon. Though I do have to think there will be people who think this was way too soon to be ascending Sunny, since at least we got to see Twilight’s journey to Alicornhood (Even if you weren’t a fan of the episode she ascended in). Sunny arguably does earn her Alicornhood through implied years of working to unite the ponies. But it can still feel too soon when you had 2 1/2 seasons worth of episodes before Twilight did, while Sunny did so within one movie.

Someone’s ultimate thoughts on G5 might end up being what they are looking for in this new generation. If they’re looking for just about everything new. The movie provides plenty of that with new characters, new locations, and a more modernized world compared to G4 Equestria (Even if G4 Equestria had it’s own fair share of electronics it looked like, such as video game machines). If you’re in this for the G4 references. Aside from the very beginning of the movie, you’re kind of stuck doing a where’s waldo for most of the movie. And no guarantees you’ll get much more then that later. As I said in the trailer thoughts, the G4 stuff could very much be just Hasbro trying to bake it’s cake and eat it too. With a world that feels like it should be it’s own thing, but they didn’t want to commit entirely to that. So they shoehorn G4 in as the ancient past without giving a proper explanation to how point A (the end of G4) got to point B (the start of G5). It’s only been about a week since the movie premiered, but there is just so much to digest. And for those looking for answers to the G4 elephant in the room, may feel like they get nothing but metaphorical tummy aches for a long time.

I’ll end this off by having a message to both people who already feel like they’ll be fans of G5, as well as people like me who were fans of G4 and have concerns about where G5 may be doing to it’s legacy.

For the G5 fans, as I mentioned in the trailer thoughts. I still hope that it turns out ultimately good. I don’t know where things will go from here but the G5 movie taking in context that it’s basically a really long series premiere, had some genuinely enjoyable moments. At the same time, I hope anyone in the G5 fanbase can try to understand why G4 fans have the concerns that they do. I’ll repeat, G4 lasted a decade and was the absolute peak of MLP’s popularity. There will be a lot of people attached to that world, and understandably upset about the implication that it got torn down into how the world is at the start of G5. If they’re really annoying about it, I can understand why you couldn’t hold the urge to snap at them to “Get over it” just try not to snap at the ones who are just asking curiously. I’m personally not going to spam comment threads with “THIS DOESN’T FIT WITH G4!” or “HASBRO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS PLEASE”, but I would be lying if I were to say I’m not just as curious about what those type of fans want to know too.

And as for G4 fans like me, if G5 ever upsets you in some fashion. It’s ok to stop watching and just stay quiet whenever you find yourself in a conversation about G5 and only participate in G4 matters in the fandom. This is a natural evolution of a fandom’s lifecycle where eventually a direction a franchise is taken to a place some others don’t like. So you’re only left to mainly talk with those who prefer an older generation and/or incarnation. Just because G5 has started and even though Hasbro says it’s the same world as G4. You can still do G4 content by itself and ignore G5. If you still have the inclination to do stuff with G4, do it. Generation 5 is not stopping people from still drawing the G4 characters, or writing more stories about them, or even if you don’t feel you’re that creative. Support artists who are still drawing G4 ponies, and/or rewatch some of your favorite episodes of Friendship is Magic that give you a smile. MLP has lasted since the 80s, and while for the most part to Hasbro it’s to sell toys. Toys, and the shows surrounding them’s purpose is to make the people watching or playing with them smile. From the little girls in the 80s to the much more diverse both gender-wise and age-wise fandom that came out of G4. The cute ponies are supposed to make us happy, and it’s ok to get back into a comfort zone if perhaps a different part of Ponies don’t give you the same feeling or even upset you in some way. Also as a vice versa to my message to G5 fans, try as best you can not to provoke those enjoying G5. If the G5 movie and/or episodes makes them as happy as your favorite G4 episodes/movies you should let them be. Many of us had to deal with that crap just for daring liking a pony show at all early on in the fandom. Try not to add to the toxicity as best you can. G4 is not going to be forgotten, the fact Hasbro decided to try to make it in the same universe actually has the side effect of making sure of that. Cause maybe you have fans that enter the MLP franchise through G5 curious about what happened in the past. And thus, they can be led to watch the previous generation. New G5 fans could potentially also become new G4 fans and friends. In other words, friendship… is still magic!

[dulce-pjm]

hmm for the mix and match drabbles how about established relationship + prompt 19!!! OR bakery/flower shop/bookstore au + prompt 6!!! you can pick!!!

hmm i see your options and i raise you this: why not all?

lol an epic crossover of prompts: au #3 - established relationship!au, au #2 - bakery/flower shop/bookstore!au, prompt #19 - “No, I have a [girlfriend/boyfriend].” “That’s me! How much did you drink?”, and prompt #6 - “One more kiss.”

make your own request here using these prompts!

bakin’ me crazy

jimin x reader

word count: 3.4k

genre: fluffy fluff fluff, established relationship!au, bakery!au

summary: despite having one disaster on top of the other and then some, you can’t help but feel better when he’s around

a/n: apologies in advance. i think we’re all learning that i’m a pun-lover and that probably won’t change

It’s everywhere. 

There’s sugar in your hair and lashes, coating your cheeks and sweater, even under your nails and somehow you swear you feel it between your toes. 

It’s been a long day. Up at the crack of dawn to open up shop, meeting with customers until noon, and now you’d found yourself baking way past your bedtime to keep up with all the orders. There’s nothing you’d like more than to eat your weight in cupcakes and enter the subsequent sugar coma on your couch, never to be disturbed again. 

But just as you’d pulled that last batch of cupcakes out of the oven, just as you’d started whipping up a fresh batch of icing, disaster struck. 

You should have known better, should have thought to check. Sunny was frantic yesterday as she rushed out the door, completing her tasks as quickly as she could so as not to leave too much work for you but still be present for the birth of her child who was not supposed to be due for three more weeks. You’d tried to calm her down, tell her to go home already, but you eventually learned that pre-parental panic is just as bad in real life as it is in the Sims4 and let her do what she needed to relieve stress. 

Which included restocking the powdered sugar. 

And in her tizzy, Sunny hadn’t noticed that this bag, the very one she placed on the edge of the shelf, had a hole in it. And you, in your own tizzy of work and stress, hadn’t noticed how it began to slump over, dangerously close to falling. You hadn’t noticed the impending explosion of powdered sugar until it had detonated on top of your head. 

No part of the kitchen seemed to be spared. While you were sputtering and stumbling backwards, wielding your spatula like a weapon as if it could help you, the fine powder coated all of your fresh cupcakes (which were still hot. and thus now had a weird film of dissolved powdered sugar on top), fell onto the clean dishes drying by the sink. 

When the dust settles, you think about crying. Seriously consider it. After the past day and a half, you definitely deserve it. 

Why couldn’t one thing go right today? And now you’ll have to stay even later just to clean things up and check to see if the cupcakes are salvageable. You’re tired and you’re hungry and you really just need a hug. Is that too much to ask for?

And suddenly the tears are pricking at your eyes and you’re sniffling and hiccuping and still covered in sugar. You feel pathetic and exhausted and miserable, the terrible feeling welling in your chest with every passing moment. 

The front door of the shop swings open, the bell attached to it ringing sharply. Who the hell comes into a bakery at this late? And what the hell did you think you were doing, not locking the door earlier?

“We’re closed!” you manage, voice choked as you scramble to your feet, slightly nervous at the sudden intrusion. 

“It’s me, Y/N!” You recognize Taehyung’s voice instantly, though it doesn’t stop you from being confused. “Sorry for stopping by so late, I have Chim with me and he wouldn’t quit asking for you and I saw the lights on— What the hell happened to you?” 

You’ve fully collected yourself, walking out of the kitchen and into the lobby to find your boyfriend of a few months with his arm wrapped around your friend of many years, staring at the floor and giggling to himself. You’re still a bit flustered, inexplicably covered in powdered sugar and very confused by the sight in front of you. 

“Uh, long story?” you manage. “Well, not really. Just a freak accident in the kitchen.” You approach the two of them tentatively. “Is Jimin okay?”

 At the call of his name, he lifts his head and smiles rather stupidly when he sees you. In an instant, he parts himself from Taehyung and stumbles over to you, nearly crashing into a cake display in the process. 

“Y/N!” He wraps his arms around your waist, digging his nose into your neck and shoulder, no doubt covering his blonde strands in sugar as he nearly squeezes the air out of your lungs. 

“‘Missed you,” he mumbles, voice muffled against your sweater. 

Taehyung shakes his head, running a hand through his dark hair. “He about drank his own weight tonight at the bar, that’s all. Let Jungkook talk him into doing shots and well...” You nod knowingly, rubbing your palm up and down Jimin’s back. “He gave me a lot of trouble on the way here, he wouldn’t let up until we came to check on you.”

You laugh when Jimin squeezes you tighter, peppering kisses at the most ticklish spots on your neck. You’re surprised he’s not more talkative, normally babbling on about any and everything he can think of when he’s had enough to drink. 

“You get any good videos of them acting stupid?” Taehyung chuckles, pulling his phone from his pocket. 

“I’ll send them to you now. Jungkook was flirting with a pole for at least ten minutes before he realized.” You snort and Jimin smiles into your sweater, nearly pressing his entire body weight onto you and sending the both of you toppling. 

You know Taehyung’s tired, try as he might to hide it. You’ve always appreciated how attentive he was of your boyfriend when you couldn’t be. Their shared apartment is on the other side of town, which means either they were drinking nearby (unlikely, you all hated the bars around here) or Jimin had begged to come see you so much that Taehyung finally caved, despite his exhaustion. 

“You can leave him here, if you want. I’ll let him sleep on the couch.” Taehyung’s eyes go wide while Jimin is still blissfully unaware of what’s going on around him, snuggling into you like you’re his childhood stuffed animal. 

“No, no, you don’t have to do that. You’re clearly all tied up here—”

“It’s okay, Tae,” you insist, smiling warmly. “Go home and rest, I’ll take care of him from here.” There’s a moment where Taehyung opens his mouth to argue, but he closes it, seeing your expression. 

He sighs. “Alright, it’s your funeral,” he jokes. “Thanks, Y/N.” 

“No problem.” 

The bells tingle again as Taehyung leaves, bracing himself against the night air. 

“Alright, sleepyhead,” you tease, ruffling Jimin’s hair. “You’re gonna have to let go of me a minute so I can clean up.” 

You shuffle backwards in spite of his grumbling protests, dragging a chair into the kitchen for him to sit on. You peel him off of you while he’s spouting incoherent sentences, gently guiding him into the chair. 

It’s difficult to resist him when he gives you those puppy dog eyes and that pout like he’s going to cry if you don’t pull him into your arms again, but you remain stern, though smiling slightly at this face and clothes that have also become victim to the powdered sugar explosion, via his contact with you. 

He giggles upon fulling taking you in. 

“You look like you got snowed on,” he says, propping his chin in his hand to keep it from bobbing too much. You shake your head, a cloud of white dust falling off of you when you do. “What happened?”

“You don’t look much better, love bug. And it’s sugar.” His brows furrow in confusion before he licks his lips, smile widening at the taste. “I’ll just clean it up and then we can go home, m’kay?”

“You should let me kiss it off for you.”

You laugh, reaching for the broom while he watches you sleepily. “We’d be here all night.”

“I don’t mind,” he calls back in a sing-song voice, seeming more awake than before, or at least, more talkative. 

You get to work sweeping up the sugar, deciding to put the forgotten cupcakes in the fridge and worry about them in the morning. You’ve too soon forgotten that you were sobbing and contemplating staying here all night to finish this order a few minutes ago, Jimin’s presence, albeit pretty drunk, helping you think a bit more sensibly.

“Did you have a good time?”

“Uh-huh! Had sooooo much fun.” You sneak a glance at him, smiling softly at how his cheek is squished against his palm and his head is bobbing slightly. He starts mumbling something again and you can only catch a few words. 

“What was that?” He sighs as you dump some powdered sugar in the trash, grinning at him sweetly.

“I said you’re pretty, dummy.” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly as he shakes his head to himself. “Always making me repeat myself when I compliment you.” He juts out his index finger in your direction as his words slur together. “I know your dirty tricks.”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing, deciding to tease him further. “Still can’t understand you, love.”

He cries out in frustration, throwing his arms out dramatically. “You’re hot! Is that what you wanna hear?” Now you can’t help but giggle at his pouting, always so easily riled up both sober and intoxicated. 

You kiss him on the top of his head as you pass by, putting away a few stray dishes. “You aren’t too bad yourself.” At that, he huffs, making a point not to look your way and give you the cold shoulder. 

You still have a few things left to tidy up and Jimin doesn’t question you further while you do them. It isn’t until you hear him snoring quietly as you wipe down the counters that you realize he’s nodded off, neck bent dangerously as his head leans against the kitchen wall. You cover your mouth to keep from laughing at his slack-jawed expression, approaching him quietly and snapping a quick picture. You immediately make it your new lockscreen, just to tease him in the morning. 

You remember the first time you met him, when Taehyung invited you to go get drinks along with the rest of your friends. The shop had been a mess and so were you, so Taehyung picked you up from work as soon as you were done as to keep you from just going home and sleeping. You’d slid into the backseat happily, Jungkook in shotgun and Jimin beside you. 

You hadn’t given him many glances, just polite greetings and small talk, not until he quietly informed you that you had hot pink frosting on your forehead and nose and you were thoroughly embarrassed. Luckily, one thing led to another and the minute you had any alcohol in your system, you were pressed against his side, rambling about the cupcake business and your passion for baking. His giggle was more intoxicating than the drinks and you found yourself unable to part from him. 

At the end of the night, you asked him to go on a date then and there, like a drunk idiot. And he said yes, also like a drunk idiot. 

Neither of you made it two steps before you were passed out in the back of Taehyung’s car, your head on his shoulder and his lying on top of yours. 

The next day, you swore you’d never drink again and hoped and prayed Jimin had forgotten the entire incident. But fate is both cruel and caring, and you’d picked up your phone a few hours into your workday to see a text from Jimin, inquiring about the promised date.

There’s still things to do and you definitely aren’t fully cleaned up, but you make the executive decision for yourself and Jimin to just go home before it’s past midnight and you’re really miserable. 

You remove your apron, tossing it in its designated bin at the back of shop, grabbing a bottle of water for Jimin and a defected cupcake (i.e. you knew you loved this flavor and purposely messed up the decoration so you could sneak it later) for yourself. Your boyfriend is still snoring quietly, head jerking painfully every few minutes as his hand struggles to it upright. You gently shake at this shoulders, keeping your voice low as to not startle him too much. 

“Hey, love bug,” you murmur. “Let’s go home, okay? Get you to bed.” He whines in his sleep, pulling away from you. 

“I can’t,” he mumbles. You laugh at his dramatics, grabbing his elbows as you try to coax him to his feet. 

“You can, promise. My apartment is just upstairs, remember?” It’d been nothing short of a coincidence that the space Sunny found for the business lied right underneath your apartment, but in times like these, it was definitely a blessing. 

He wags his finger in your face, his eyes barely opened. “Nuh-uh. No, I have a girlfriend.” You scoff incredulously, crossing your arms. 

“That’s me! How much did you drink?” His eyes open fully and he smiles sheepishly at his mistake. 

“Oh. Oops?” You roll your eyes, pulling him to his feet unceremoniously and shoving the water bottle in one hand, guiding the other around your shoulder. 

“I barely drank anything, really,” he insists as you lock the doors and turn off the lights. 

“Mhmm.”

“Like— Two sips!” he says, holding up three fingers.

“I believe you,” you lie. “Now drink some water.” He complies, though his eyes lie on the chocolate cupcake you’re taking a bite out of. You catch him staring quickly as you round the corner of the building, entering the hallway that leads to the stairs. You’d take the elevator, but you worry that if you don’t keep him moving, he’ll fall asleep where he stands, so you suck it up and prepare to climb three flights. 

Before he even has to ask, you stick the cupcake in his face and he smiles, licking a big chunk of the frosting right off the top. 

“Jimin!” you cry, yanking the cupcake back. “You know I hate when you do that! Enjoy the cupcake as it is or just ask me for some frosting.” He doesn’t seem the least bit guilty as you glare at him, pretending the leftover frosting on the corner of his cheek isn’t both tempting and adorable. 

“But I loooove the frosting!” he argues. “You know what else I love?” You already know what he’s going to say, he’d blurted out the “L word” on your two month anniversary, totally on accident. Luckily, the feelings were mutual. 

“Me?” He scrunches his nose. 

“What? No.” You gasp, offended. “I mean, yes, you know I do, but I wasn’t talking about that. I love the name of your shop.”

You blink at him twice. “You like ‘Bakin’ Me Crazy’?” You huff. “That was the biggest mistake of my life.” Now it’s his turn to be offended, stopping in his tracks and nearly sending you both falling back down the stairs. “Jimin—!”

“It’s an amazing name, Y/N!” he exclaims, brown eyes wide and earnest. “It’s cute.”

Hmmph. “If you say so, weirdo.”

“Cute like you,” he sings, loud enough to wake the entire building.

“Stop complimenting me. I’m still mad at you.” You shove the last bit of cupcake in your mouth, wiping the crumbs from your mouth with your thumb. He giggles, leaning closer to you. 

“I like you so much, did you know that?”

“I did.”

“I’d really like you if you gave me a piggyback ride, though.” You scoff. 

“You’re such a tease! You always lay it on thick when you want something.” You remember his words from earlier, wagging your finger in his face to copy him. “I know your dirty tricks.”

He sighs, acting extra tired as if to emphasize how deserving he is of a piggyback ride from you. You’d consider giving it to him, if you thought you were physically capable and you weren’t on a stairwell. 

He takes another sip of water as he pouts. “Pretty please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

“No.”

“And whipped cream?” A laugh slips through your lips, all too soft for him when he’s acting cute like this. 

“What are you even talking about?” you giggle, unlocking the door to your apartment which is thankfully not far from the stairwell. “Just keep drinking that water. You’re gonna be so embarrassed in the morning.” You guide him to the side of the bed next to your dresser, helping him sit down. 

He makes grabby hands at you as you fish through your drawers for pajamas, muttering something about you abandoning him. 

You hold up a pair of bright orange fleece pants decorated with penguins. “You like these? All my sweats are in the wash.” You toss them into his lap when he nods happily. “Do you need help?” He yawns and blinks hard and you smile in satisfaction, seeing that his water bottle is half empty and he’s ever so slightly more sober. 

“I got it,” he says. You go into the bathroom, washing your face and changing into your own kiddish pajamas. When you come back into the bedroom, Jimin’s already tucked in with the covers pulled to his chin. 

You cross your arms. “I don’t remember inviting you into my bed, mister.” He smiles at you as you slide in next to him, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. You’d had every intention of sending him to the couch out of fear that he’d puke on your sheets, but you reason that you’d be cold without him and you’d rather be close by if he did get sick. 

You dust the last of the powdered sugar off of his nose and brows, pressing your cheek into his chest, exhaustion already overcoming you. Underneath the alcohol, you can still smell the comforting scent of his vanilla lotion, lulling you to sleep. 

“Don’t fall asleep yet!” he suddenly exclaims, pushing you a few inches away. You groan, propping yourself on your elbow and wondering how the hell he’s still awake and bothering you. 

“What is it?” You blink a few times as he smiles cheekily. 

“One more kiss.” You scoff. “You still have sugar on your face. On your lips, actually. So I should get it for you.” 

You’re scoffing but oblige, smiling into the kiss as he slots his plush lips against yours, knowing very well you scrubbed the last of the sugar off your face moments ago. 

--

You wake up to your phone ringing rather rudely. You sigh, peeling yourself away from Jimin and laughing at his bedhead and the displeased expression he makes in his sleep, his face swollen and eyes shut tightly. 

“Hello?” you whisper, pulling yourself into a sitting position. 

“Hey, Y/N!” Once you register her voice, you can barely contain your excitement, bouncing on the bed once before reminding yourself that Jimin’s still asleep. 

“Sunny!” you whisper-yell. “How’s Jisoo and the baby? You a mom yet?” Your business partner laughs on the other end of the phone. 

“Oh, she’s fine. Just tired. The baby was born a few hours ago, but we’re still deciding on a name for her.” You grin. “So yeah, I’m a mom and you can be her unofficial auntie.”

“You’re gonna name her after me, right?” 

Sunny giggles tiredly on the other end of the phone. “I’ll add it to the list, don’t worry.” You’re about to tell her to go get some rest, but she interrupts you before you can. 

“Speaking of names! I got in contact with that guy about changing our sign so we can finally choose a different name for the business. You’re still serious about that, right?”

You glance at Jimin, his cheek squished against the pillow and lips puckered. You run your fingers through his blonde hair and he sighs contentedly. 

“Maybe we should leave it, for now.”

“What? But you said—”

“I know, I know. Let’s talk about it another time. Go get some sleep!” 

The two of you exchange a few more words of endearment and congratulations before you hang up, noting the sunlight cracking through your blinds. 

You know you need to get up soon. There’s still cupcakes to bake and customers to deal with and a temporary replacement for Sunny to find. 

But for a moment, you self-indulge, curling up next to Jimin, letting him wrap his arms around you and warm you back up. He digs his nose into your shoulder as you press a quick kiss onto his forehead, closing your eyes and drifitng back to sleep, feeling weightless as he holds you. 

[temporoom]

Hello there, it is I, Tempo, here to episode reviews one week too late. To be honest, episode 13 confused me so much I had to register what happened during the week before doing a proper review, and then episode 14 dropped so... I’ll do a mix between my thought about where the anime is going alongside my reviews.

I have questions about where the staff if going with this second cour to be honest. Because clearly, the first episode of this cour should habe been divided in 2, or at least 1 and a half. I’m not the only one confused, and I’m not going to say all the things that they cut (@cheekbites did a better job at it than me on twitter, so here is the link so you can see for yourself the disaster). I though they would take their time for Gévaudan because it’s such a big and epic arc, but... they don’t? Even though.... they set everything for it??

Okay, listen to me, one of the reasons why I suppoed they insisted so much on Jeanne and Vanitas’ development as a couple, for me, was because of the Gevaudan arc. I had supposed, that they were insisting so badly on it in the anime, like that, at the end of Gevaudan, they could have done the whole “Vanitas is in love with Jeanne” chapter, end the anime on a cliffhanger with Dominique being in a bad situation because she was heartbroken by Noé not giving her attention (hyperbole). So like... If the anime wanted to go this way, sure, it would have worked. Why not? But... Something happened along the lines, and clearly this plan is no longer followed anymore.

With their current pace (which is 2 to 3 chapters by episode... It’s betwen 50 to a 100 pages per episode, it’s a lot), they’ll probably end the Gevaudan arc between episode 6 and episode 9. Which, of course, leaves between 3 to 6 episodes to animate, one being the obligatory chapter 44 and 45, or “Love Square Problems 2 The Return”. And after that, if they want to actually animate the new arc, they would animate the equivalent of 9 chapters, which begs the question of the pace again : will it be 3 chapters per episodes, or 2 chapters by episode? 

But here lies the root of my issues with the anime again: why change the plan? Why deciding to animate the Hunter in the Dark arc even though the entire first cour was set for the Gevaudan arc? Why insisting so much on Vanitas and Jeanne’s relationship if it was to throw it out of the window like it meant nothing? They clearly were into it, so why? 

Well, a lot happened for me between cour 1 and cour 2, most notably, I joined a small vanoé discord community (because if you still don’t know, I try to stay objective most of the time, but I’m a vanoé shipper), and one of the member theorized that cour 2 would be more vanoé centric because of all the recent vanoé merch we got, and the fact the blu-ray bonus were clearly... focusing on... certain things... When the OP and ED came out, it was clear they were right.

So, I’m a Vanoé shipper, I should be overjoyed that my ship is getting the attention it deserved... But at the same time... It’s already too late you know? The first cour was set on VaniJeanne because the Gevaudan arc IS the VaniJeanne arc, the main focus being Jeanne’s relationship with Chloé, and the hints of Vanitas’ relationship with who was called Vanitas before him. I would have liked to have at least one good arc to prove me that the entirety of cour 1 was worth it, that they were setting things up the proper way and not just doing whatever made them horny. But there was a change in direction, and now the focus is redirected from VaniJeanne to VaNoé, which just makes things awkward.

So here we have it: a rushed episode 13, cutting many small plot points and fight consistency, and now an episode 14 which doesn’t know what to do. Yes, there was the cabin scene, and they did their best to make it as horny and romantic as possible while... managing to fail somehow? Don’t get me wrong, the display of Vanitas’ scar was hot af, but... I don’t know I expected more? And on the other hand Noé gets extra treatment for his non-consensual blood drinking sequence with Chloé? And yet, we still managed to get crumbs of Vanoé in bewteen, and not just a few, I’m talking a lot (from Vanitas constantly talking about Noé to Jeanne even though she is talking about something else, to his clear display of anger because Noé has been captured, and then he rushes to help him... Even though the lady is right behind him? Even the manga was kind of more discreet about it).

I am... confused. Something happened in the studios that we don’t know about, and we are seeing the results of it right before our eyes. I suppose we’ll have to wait a while longer before seeing what should happened.

[damn-stark]

Harmless Endeavors

Chapter 4 of Different Light

A/N- I always have so much fun writing these chapters and I especially can’t wait for the next one! Let me know what you thought?! I hope you guys liked the chapter :)

Warning-slight angst, SLOWBURN, typical teenage awkwardness and just a disaster trio starting their new hobby.

Pairing- Harry Potter x Malfoy!reader, Fred Weasley x Malfoy!reader

Takes place during; The Goblet of Fire

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“Alright Malfoy we have a question for you.” George began to probe while he stood beside you.

“Okay,” you muse skeptically, poking your head over the brick barriers between the hall's arches, whilst you gripped onto your wand. “Shoot.”

Fred snickers on your other side and asks their obvious curious question. “Where is Durmstrang exactly?”

“Well, obviously it’s…” you pause and blink as you somehow come out blank. “Well...I,” you gasp as your mind is still unable to recall any sort of direction at all. Everything just comes out blank. “I don’t recall exactly. That’s,” you mumble, “odd.”

Fred and George snicker and give one another a high five behind you after hearing your useless given answer. Finding your bafflement somehow amusing. Because of course they did.

“I told you, Freddie.” George said proudly, “no present, nor past student knows where Durmstrang is.”

“Most likely some type of memory charm,” Fred chimes in with the equal amount of pride as George. “Or maybe just too much dark magic messes with their heads.”

You slowly turn your head to face him and shoot him a pointed glare, causing him to just shrug nonchalantly and smirk. Wanting to remark on your glare, but not doing so as you pulled them both down when you heard the footsteps of your first victims approaching the hall. “Ready?” you whisper as you raise your wand to point it at the hidden floating bucket.

“Ready.” Fred repeated, lifting his wand to point at another bucket, whilst George also did the same, but faltered as he spotted the problem.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Malfoy? It’s your brother coming down the hall.”

Without any sign of hesitation you nod almost enthusiastically, “oh, I’m sure.”

“Okay then,” Fred continued smugly as he poked his head out to get a better view at the passing group which involved Draco, Crabbe and the tiny and snobby Pansy, “in 3,2,1.”

Without a second to spare George cast the flipendo jinx that knocked down a bucket filled with ink so it could drop over the group, while Fred makes a bucket pop out of the floor as fake bricks open like a small door, leaving you to knock down and drop the one behind them. Soaking them from head to toe in ink that made Pansy squeal and the two boys shriek out like little girls.

The whole scene overall making the three of you instantly drop and hide between bushes. Trying with all your might not to reveal yourselves with the laugh that threatened to spill out. Having to distract yourselves with listening to the group whine and grow upset. Draco most of all.

“Come out and show your face! Don’t be a coward!”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from bursting out, not daring to even move a muscle in order to keep yourself hidden.

“Just you wait! You will all get expelled!” Draco bellowed, before he and his group were heard storming down the hall, each second their footsteps echoing further and further away until they were just no more. Finally letting all of you burst out into a fit of uncontrollable laughter that made it hard to breathe. Causing you to gasp for air as you completely slumped to the dirt ground.

“I wish I could’ve…” Fred wheezed, “seen their faces!”

“I-it must’ve been spectacular!” George added excitedly. “Just you wait!” He then mocked, making you laugh much harder, feeling your sides hurt but unable to stop.

“Ah,” you gasped, “that-that was fantastic!”

“You knew didn’t you!” Fred jabbed, “you knew your brother was going to come down that hall. You had it all planned?!”

Once you are able to be somewhat contained, you shrug innocently. “It was just an innocent prank on a couple of passing kids.”

“Sure it was,” George chuckles, “you sneaky little genius.”

You grin smugly and flip your wand in your hand before placing it back inside your robe.

“Well you shouldn't have to hide it, you know we would’ve been down to prank your brother.” Fred adds, “with only your permission of course.”

“Of course,” you mock. “Anyway,” you shrug, “he deserved it, he was an arse.”

George scoffs, “isn’t he always.”

Your smile falters at George’s comment, but it’s just that and nothing else. You don’t let it or want it to affect you because it’s true, even if it feels weird hearing others bad mouth your brother.

Regardless you shrug it off and yet are unable to express anything else after you managed to calm down since down the hall, where Draco and his friends had left, quick multiple footsteps were heard approaching. Causing Fred to grab your hand to pull you with him as he jumped to his feet, meanwhile you grabbed onto George’s hand to pull him. Not daring to wait to see who it could be in case it was Draco coming back to search and snitch with an army of professors.

“Come on,” Fred urged as he tugged your hand and you tugged George’s to break into a sprint down the courtyard. “Let’s go!”

Again the three of you fell into a fit of laughter when you looked over your shoulders and saw Draco had returned, fuming to hopelessly search for the guilty party he was never going to find.

——

It so happened that waiting and searching for Dobby was much harder to find than accidentally bumping into him. And it’s not like you could just say his name and he’ll appear out of thin air anymore, he wasn’t your family’s house elf. So you were forced to pace out the kitchen to wait in the knowledge that he should have gotten the letter by now, there shouldn’t be a reason for him to take so long.

Athena, yours and Draco’s Eagle-Owl was a fast flyer, she wouldn’t have taken that long to deliver the letter after Draco passed it to her. In fact she should be back with a small package or more letters.

Unless...Dobby got caught. No...he couldn’t. The outcomes of that possibility would be out of your control and it would’ve been news you would’ve heard by now. He couldn’t have been caught.

Suddenly your name is uttered loudly down the hall. Followed by small quick footsteps speeding towards you—when you turn around you see Dobby’s little body coming towards you with an envelope half his hands size in his hold, whilst a big beaming smile decorated his features. “I’ve got it! I’ve got what miss Malfoy asked!”

A weight lifts from your shoulders at the sight of the little elf more than at the sight of the letter he carried. You sigh with relief and look down to the elf with a small smile. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

“Dobby is very honored, miss Malfoy trusted Dobby with such a task.” The little elf squeals cheekily, “Dobby snatched the letter from the Manor and guarded it with his life for you, miss. And he never got caught!”

“That’s good. I’m so proud of you Dobby.” You beam, making the little elfs smile falter.

But not because he was upset, but because of the emotions he began to feel at your comment. “Miss Malfoy is proud of Dobby? Oh, Dobby is so happy! Here.” He hands you the letter as his eyes gleam with welled up tears. Letting you hand him a small wrapped package that had his name on it. Making the elf get even more emotional as he opened it to find a knitted sweater and a couple of Galleons. “Thank you! Thank you.”

“Thank you, Dobby, you’ve saved my life.” You assure him, glancing at the end of the hall to see more house elfs come out of the kitchen as breakfast was going to be served, “thank you. And I hope that if Draco keeps doing this that I can count on you to do the same? If that’s no trouble?”

“It’s never trouble. Dobby is honored to help.”

“Good,” you nod with a grin before you’re moving past him, “thank you again and I’ll see you again soon!” You wave at Dobby and he waves back. The sight of his little figure is gone as you leave the kitchens and head towards the great hall to join your only two friends for breakfast. Catching them on their usual table with a gap left between them for you to sit, both at the same time catching a glimpse of you before waving you over.

“Where have you been?” George asks while you take your seat.

You shrug and hide your smirk, “busy.”

“Causing trouble so early in the morning, Malfoy?” Fred probes.

You chuckle and serve yourself breakfast, only shaking your head as a non-helpful response to his questioning. Choosing to leave it at that and say nothing else on the regard—knowing if you did let them in to your secret plan, someone around could hear and tell. Destroying your whole plan and leaving you in hot water.

So as for now it would be well not to tell and just leave them in the dark.

All you could do, now, at the moment was enjoy breakfast. You could worry about focusing on rewriting the letter and sending some of your own later.

“....Mom sent me a dress.”

Fred giggles beside you and pulls both yours and George’s attention to focus on his youngest brother.

“Well it does match your eyes,” you hear Harry tease, making you grin and forget the breakfast you were so intent on eating moments ago to focus on the trio causing an amusing scene; “is there a bonnet?” Harry reaches to pull the exact item of clothing from the box, “aha!” Harry grins cheekily, making Ron roll his eyes and dismiss his friend's comment.

“Nose down Harry,” Ron takes the odd, ghastly looking robe to his sister. “Ginny these must be for you.”

From the side of the table you’re sat on, you couldn’t see the youngest Weasleys exact facial reaction, but by the obvious disgust in her tone you could tell it was just as her voice was heard. “I’m not wearing that, it's ghastly.”

You giggle along with the rest of the students, noticing Ron’s unfocused gaze as he walks back after he hears Hermione giggling. “What are you on about?”

Hermione giggles, “they’re not for Ginny. They’re for you.”

The twins as well as you and the group of students paying attention to the interaction burst into a louder teasing laugh, continuing on as the explanation continued—“dress robes!”

“Dress robes?!” Ron snaps back as his eyebrows knit together and his nose scrunches up, “for what?!”

You chuckle and add a long time knowing answer to his question, “the Yule ball of course!”

——

“The Yule ball is approaching—a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests.” Snape announces to the house of Slytherins in such an unbothered and monotone way, “the ball will only be open for fourth years and above. Of course you may invite a younger student only if you may want to.”

Of course you knew like the many times before, what was to come for this school year, but that still didn’t excuse your gut wrenching nerves that knotted your stomach at the thought of such an important event. The main reason being who would ask you, or really if anyone would?

Of course you could ask someone; and you could see some people already looking at you as Professor Snape announced the event, but you didn’t really wish to go with any. Not to be cruel really, but the reason being, was that you didn’t really wish to actually go with anyone from Slytherin house. Not only because you didn’t know a soul personally but well...it was just that. You wanted to go with someone you did know—which wasn’t a lot of students, but you still hoped really.

“Dress robes will be worn,” Professor Snape continued stiffly, “and the ball will start at eight o’clock on Christmas Day. No later. It will finish at Midnight, so please no late arrivals. And of course.” Professor Snape cleared his throat as he looked to the crowd of older Slytherins, “I will expect Slytherin to behave and not act like wild animals. If I catch anyone out of hand I will take points. So act decent if you want to win the house cup at the end of the year. Okay? Everyone up and to the center of the room!”

——

“...I’m so glad to hear that you’re enjoying your school year at Hogwarts. However I’m saddened by the fact that I won’t get to spend Christmas with Draco and you this year, it’ll be odd having the house so alone in such a wonderful Holiday, but I know you two will be up to far more exciting things with the Yule Ball approaching. I can't wait to hear all about it and who you’ll go with, so please as soon as someone asks you, write to me! I’ll be waiting with so much anticipation. I miss you and I hope we see one another soon.

Love, Narcissa

Of course in that small detail of the letter where Narcissa says to write her as soon as someones asked you, she left out that part that it couldn’t be just anyone—No mud-bloods, nor blood traitors. Especially no, Mud-bloods! That’s key. Your father would most likely come to the school and grab you by the ear to take you back home.

Perhaps it was good that no one has asked you. Saved you a bunch of unnecessary problems.

Like you would care regardless.

“Are you done with the letter yet?” You question Draco as you walk behind him on the chair to hit the top of his head with the couple of envelopes in your hand.

He winced like the dramatic boy he was and threw his arm back to hand you the wanted item, adding as always a comment. “But don’t read it! I’ll know if you do.”

You snicker and walk back towards the door, “why? Got some special news to tell mummy that you don’t want me to know about?” You smirk, “like how you got supposedly bathed in ink?” You do air quotes with your fingers and try to surpass the fit of laughter that threatened to burst out.

Draco snapped his body to face you so quickly that you’d thought it’d just crack in half. “It’s true! You just didn’t see it because it was invisible ink to everyone else!”

You offer a narrowed gaze and a mischievous smirk he didn’t understand the meaning of—or else he would’ve turned crimson. “Okay,” you shrug casually, “invisible ink? Whatever you say.”

Draco’s face scrunches up and he throws you a pillow that luckily doesn’t hit you as you shut the door in time. Albeit you don’t fail to laugh. Receiving odd looks from passing students was the only thing that made you hold your laughter and bite your tongue from going hysterical.

If only Draco knew. If only he knew.

“Y/N!”

Suddenly your attention perks up as you hear your name called out behind you. When you turn you see only one Weasley twin; which going by the hair and how it kind of swooped at the tips, it was Fred.

You smile and stop so he could catch up, “hello, Fred. Long time no see.”

He laughs softly and runs his fingers through his hair, stealing glances at you as he begins to walk with you. “So what do you think about the Yule ball? Get asked yet?”

You shake your head and purse your lips, “nope not yet, but I do see some boys following me at times throughout the day and stare at me as if I’m some shiny toy.”

Fred puts his hands in his pockets and grins, “maybe they’re scared of you.”

You chuckle and spin to face him, walking back as he walked forward to joke along. “Is it my hair? Or do you think they know we're trouble? Or is it my family name?” You giggle, “maybe I’m just too funny for them, hmm? My jokes are too grande for them.”

“Ahh,” Fred teases with a goofy grin, “that’s it. They just don’t understand those hysterical jokes and the mindless pranks you hide in their morning pumpkin juice.”

You snort and playfully hit his chest before you fall back at his side, wanting to add something but cut off as Fred continued.

“Well now that we’re on that topic of dates, I wanted to ask if you’d go with me?”

Suddenly your stomach drops and your heart goes wild like a kid on a sugar high. Your smile drops but it picks up again, going in that nervous routine for a couple of seconds until you stop and make Fred stop to fully face you.

“You want to go with me?” That was a stupid question, but it just came out. Why didn’t you ever think of the twins?

Maybe because you thought they wouldn’t ask. Especially not Fred since you’d see him talk to his friend Angelina at times before George and him would join your side. You’d thought he’d ask her instead.

Guess you stand strongly uncorrected.

Fred chortles, “of course that’s why I asked.”

“Oh,” you feel your cheeks burn and your wrist begins to ache as the habit to nervously rub it annoyingly ticks at your brain. “Well, yeah I’d love it to.”

Fred’s grin widens and goes somewhere between cocky and flustered, but he hides it well with a cool nod. “Alright then can’t wait, I’ll see you later.” He begins to walk back as you do too, continuing to your previous path.

A shy smile grows on your lips and you wave at him like a dork, not seeming to keep your eyes off each other until you both turn to your destined halls. Causing your overly giddy grin to last until you reached the top of the Owlery. Dropping your smile to a small faint one as you offered it to a girl in your same year, Cho Chang as she passed by you on the snow covered stairs.

Moments after, your mind hardly paid attention to what was going on around you as you focused on the ice and snow.

Because of that causing your body to almost collide into Harry.

“Oh, Harry, I’m sorry.” You excuse yourself as your smile falls and your cheeks tingle with a threatening warmth. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

Said boy giggles nervously and sways from side to side like an awkward dance as you both try to go past each other.

It’s not until you grab his shoulders to turn him to where he was headed does the funny interaction stop, and you’re left standing awkwardly for a few moments until he waves goodbye, followed by a soft departing word too. Letting you think that was it, but standing strongly uncorrected again.

“Y/N!”

You turn back on your heels and your eyebrows lift as you answer back, “yeah?”

“Uhmm,” he swallows thickly, “Wangoballwime?”

Your eyebrows knit together like your stomach does, but both for entirely different reasons. “Huh? Sorry I didn’t quite get that.”

Harry shoves his hands in his pockets and his eyes bounce all around your face, an obvious rosy tint growing on his cheeks and neck—for cold reasons or different you couldn’t quite understand. “Uhm, I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to go to the ball with me?” He spoke slowly and clearly this time, causing your eyes to widen and your face to burn.

You could your heart rush again, or maybe this time much quicker, but it did. It was going to just burst out. While also this time you couldn’t help but nervously rub your wrist. Forcing yourself to answer with the disappointing truth—for him anyway. “Oh, uhm, Harry I’m sorry, but someone’s already asked me.” You reveal with a hurt look, “and I said I’d go, sorry.”

Harry rips his hands out of his pockets and nods whilst he answers in the most assuring way possible. “Okay, yeah, great no problem. Okay, good.”

You offer him an apologetic smile and watch him walk back until you call to him, “Harry.”

At the call he runs back and waits.

“I really am,” you assure him shyly, “sorry.”

“Well that’s okay.” Harry reassures you, saying nothing to let your gazes linger until he bursted out with a question. “Who’re you going with?”

“Fred,” you smile sweetly, “Fred Weasley.”

.

.

.

.

Tagged- @peter-laufeyson , @swiftlymoniquesblog , @spideyyypeter , @gsvshsjsbs @accio-prozac , @cherriesanwine @kokomaesadie , @april-14-blog, @prettypinkpeachh

[aomineavenue]

Homesick (Miya Atsumu x f!Reader) | 007. realizations

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Updates: irregular.

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc. (Will be mentioned once posted because I don’t want spoilers huehue)

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: ongoing. | series masterlist

↩ dinner disaster | realization | chapter seven bonus  ↪

mia’s note(s): 

another easter egg found here! can you find it? 

i’m so excited because we’re almost done. remember how i said it’s 12 chapters? well, i’ve shortened it ok lmao dont be mad but homesick is almost over hehe 

i would just like to personally thank @newfriendjen​ and @hqstuffsforme​ bcoz they literally give me the motivation I need to continue writing lmao

The model scrunches her features up in annoyance, puffing her cheeks as if she were a child being deprived of sweets. She flickers her attention over to you, her jaw clenching at the mere fact a woman was seated next to him. “Excuse me.” 

You arch an eyebrow, noticing her glowering towards your direction. “Me?” 

“Yes, you.” she answers, her eyes betraying the smile she had on, “I believe you’re in my seat.” 

The past few weeks had been exhausting for him, and it wasn’t because of their intense training for upcoming games. His exhaustion’s source was mainly from the most recent important events, it took a toll on him emotionally. While this may be true, he understands there wasn’t anyone to blame but himself. The anger still existed somewhere in his mind, displeasing him whenever his thoughts reminded him of the chances he had lost to take care of his kids at a much younger age, but he had tried his best to subdue those particular emotions ever since that night. Chaotic as it was, it took him a step closer towards the realization of what he really needed to do. All he needed now was a little shove.

“‘Tsumtsum!” he hears her screech, the muscles around his shoulders grow tense. The irony of it all, just as they were discussing that horrendous memory of the Christmas Party just last December that he had tried his best to eradicate from his brain due to his own embarrassment, he couldn’t believe the model in question had instantaneously emerged out of thin air. What was she doing all the way here in Kanagawa? It was as if he had no escape from her suffocating clutches. A quick glance towards his brother and he recognizes the criticizing features sewn on his twin’s features and all he could do was share a silent communication, pleading for his aid. 

Out of all the times this woman could appear, she appears at the very moment where he was sort of, trying, to redeem himself. Silently, he prays as she snakes her arms around his neck, that you, settled next to him, wouldn’t conclude anything from it, but who was he kidding? The position itself was sufficient evidence for you to come up with the conclusion he’s dreading. He can sense everyone’s eyes on him, the irritation they were radiating for such disruption. As she releases another infuriating squeal, this time an inch away from his ear, he pries her hands away from his neck and wraps his fingers around her wrist to pull her to the side. 

Her lower lip juts out to a pout as she stands by the table, ignoring the dirty look he was directing her way. “What’s wrong ‘Tsumtsum? Did you not like my surprise?” 

“Surprise?” he disputes, his brows furrowed in confusion as he releases his grip from her wrist, displeasure evident in his tone as he spoke. “Don’t tell me you were stalking me, Yumi.”  

She folds her arms across her chest and lets out a scoff of disbelief escape her lips, “You make it sound as if I’m not your girlfriend or something!” 

“Well, you aren’t.” he argues, a sigh of frustration escaping his lips, “We’ve talked about this. We’re not together and how did you know I was going to be here anyway?” 

“That’s some serious stalking there, Yumi-san.” Hinata quips from his seat innocently, the other individuals around the table attempt their best to contain their sniggering at the sight of the model going red in the face from both anger and embarrassment. 

She releases a grunt from her lips, sending a glare towards Hinata’s direction before turning her attention back at him, flashing him an innocent smile. “I don’t care what you say, we’re dating. You can’t just drop me like that. What we have is something special, you love me right? You never really said it before, but I know you’re just being shy, ‘Tsumtsum, it’s o—” 

“Please,” He interjects, “Drop it. We’ve discussed this already, Yumi.” 

The model scrunches her features up in annoyance, puffing her cheeks as if she were a child being deprived of sweets. She flickers her attention over to you, her jaw clenching at the mere fact a woman was seated next to him. “Excuse me.” 

You arch an eyebrow, noticing her glowering towards your direction. “Me?” 

“Yes, you.” she answers, her angry eyes betraying the smile she had on, “I believe you’re in my seat.” 

“Yumi!” Atsumu hisses, pushing himself to stand from his seat. “Stop this, right now. We’re trying to have a quiet dinner.” 

Clearing your throat, you avoid the model’s glare as you stand yourself, “I think I’m full, and I’d like to return to the hospital. She can have my seat.” 

“Wait, what?” Reiji chokes, sharing a panic glance over to his current partner in crime across from him. “But we haven’t even gotten to the main course,” 

Yumi squeezes her way towards your seat after pulling you away from where you stood with abrupt force, a happy squeal leaving her lips as she occupies the seat you sat on seconds ago, she turns to look up at you, a smug smile evident in her features, “Safe travels.” 

“Enjoy the rest of your night, everyone.” you bid, bowing your head slightly before your feet take off towards the exit of the restaurant. 

“Good riddance, if you ask me.” Yumi scoffs with a wave of her hand to capture everyone’s attention. She claps her hands together excitedly as she looks up at Atsumu, “I missed you so much, ‘Tsumtsum! You never bring me to dinners with your friends, this is so exciting for our relation—” 

As Reiji was practically seething from the side like a predator ready to pounce an attack towards its enemy for disrespecting his best friend like that, and from the sudden thought of regret entering his mind of how he shouldn’t have trusted Atsumu for not doing anything. However, such thoughts were crushed almost instantly at the sight of the furious glare Atsumu was sending over to the model that was seated uninvitedly on your seat. 

The sight of a furious Atsumu was enough to send a chill through her spine, as she was about to try to soothe the volleyball player by reaching out for him, he slaps her hands away which causes her to whimper, jutting her lower lip out to pout. “What did I do?” 

“Are you serious, Yumi?” he snaps, nails burying into his palms to restrain his growing irritation, “I can’t believe you would do that.” 

“Why does it matter?” she whines, trying to reach out for him once again, only to fail as he steps back further, “Are you serious right now? Who was that bitch anyway?” 

Reiji interrupts, his voice full of venom from behind the model, “I’d watch your tongue if I were you.” 

“Whatever,” she stutters, attempting to look unfazed by the singer’s words by rolling her eyes but her quivering posture radiated otherwise, “She shouldn’t matter, ‘Tsumtsum, let’s just continue dinner.” 

“What are you? A child?” Osamu intrudes, not able to hold back his tongue any longer from this model’s personality, “Stop calling my brother such a horrendous nickname like a squealing pig.” 

An offended gasp escaped her lips, glowering towards Osamu, “He likes it when I call him that, so sucks to be you! And I’m not a child, I’m a fully grown woman.” 

“Could have fooled me,” Asuma mutters underneath his breath. 

Yumi lets out a grunt. “Tell them, baby. You like it when I call you—Where are you going?” 

He doesn’t spare her a glance, weaving his way through the restaurant to run after you, “I hate that nickname.” 

Before Yumi could stand up and follow after him, her path was blocked by the other individuals around the table who had stood up the second they realized Atsumu’s plan of action. “What are you doing? Let me through! You’re all going to regret this!” 

Yumi’s screech was the last thing Atsumu heard as he steps out of the restaurant, a part of him feeling bad for his friends being left to deal with Yumi’s ridiculous antics and well, for the other people in the restaurant that might have had their ears traumatized. He never really understood what he saw in her in the first place, it was Yumi who had approached him in the beginning anyway. He should have listened to Osamu instead. 

He looks around frantically, wanting to be able to catch up to you. He needed to talk to you, to apologize for Yumi’s behavior. He was just hoping that, somehow, he still had a chance to fix things with you. Hopefully, Yumi’s appearance hadn’t ruined those chances. 

He catches a glimpse of your retreating figure walking towards the nearest bus station and he feels his heart soar, you haven't gone too far yet. He doesn’t waste any more time than he already has, sprinting towards your direction, calling out your name.

At the sound of his voice, your name rolling off of his tongue in desperation, you turn your head to look back with confusion. He reaches you almost instantly after you pivot your body to face his direction. Despite looking flustered as he catches his breath, he takes your breath away. 

“Oh, sorry.” a feminine voice interrupts his train of thought through memory lane, causing him to turn around, startled, “I didn’t realize someone was already occupying the balcony.” 

He lets out an awkward laugh, shaking his head, “No, it’s okay. It’s not like I’d stop you, I don’t own the space or anything.” 

“So you don’t mind if I share your space? The party inside is kind of suffocating.” she lets out a sigh, avoiding his gaze sheepishly. 

“I don’t mind at all,” he nods, tearing his gaze away from her as she steps out onto the balcony. He returns his gaze over to the buildings of Shinjuku, the different bright hues from various buildings painting the night sky.

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

He hums softly, lifting the cold bottle of Sapporo up to his lips to take a quick sip. He lets out a sigh, “Just some stuff, it’s nothing really.” He turns to look over at her when she steps towards the edge of the balcony near him, “Wait, aren’t you Tobio-kun’s sister? The sports journalist?” 

She lets out a laugh with a nod of her head, “Yeah, I’m glad I’ve made a name for myself then for some of the players here to recognize me. Though, I don’t think I appreciate being known as Tobio’s sister, not that I’m not proud of my brother or anything.”

“Ah, sorry. I didn’t mean to.” he states sheepishly.

She shakes her head, offering him a small smile. “It’s okay, no worries. You realize the party is inside, don’t you? I think I heard Bokuto-san looking for you or something.” 

“I suppose I’m not really in the mood right now,” he mutters underneath his breath, looking back up ahead. “Not really in the right mind space. I don’t really know why I’m telling you this, you’re a journalist.” 

She pouts, “I’m not as bad as those gossiping sharks. I prefer to actually produce worthy news. Speaking of news, you’ve been everywhere lately. I suppose it’s hard for you. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if that happens.” 

“I don’t mind it,” he admits, his forehead creasing.

“Pardon?” 

He lets out another sigh, shifting his position so his back is leaning against the railing of the balcony, “I don’t mind it. I just wish she was left out of things. She doesn’t deserve such slander.” 

“I suppose the woman associated in the news with you actually means something to you then,” she muses, “I always thought that model Yumi was irritating. I’m sure her fame will fly out the window sooner or later.” 

He lets out a scoff of irritation, taking another swig of the beer in his hand, “Don’t even remind me of her.” 

“She’s not really well liked either,” the journalist beside him snickers, “Don’t worry about it too much, you’ll grow wrinkles. Say, Miya-san, do you love her?” 

He’s startled by the direct question, if it were not for his tight grip around the beer bottle, it would have slipped from his fingers and came crashing to the floor. No one, not even his brother, had asked him such a question. He never really thought about it, but ever since that night, you were all he could think about. “It’s complicated.” 

“A lot of things are complicated.” she starts, tilting her head back up to look at the dark sky from the penthouse balcony, “There will always be complications, you know. But, do you know what’s the bright side of it?” 

He turns his head to look over at her in curiosity, “What?” 

She lets out a heavy sigh, a sad smile forming on her lips. “For each complicated situation we are in, the only person who can deal with such complications, is ourselves. Everything is in our hands. The only question you should be asking yourself is, what is the outcome you wish to have? Then from there, I’m sure you’ll be able to find a solution to your complicated situation.”

“I wish it were that easy,” he frowns, fluttering his eyelids shut as he lets the cold night breeze brush against his skin. 

A laugh escapes her lips, “Nothing is ever easy. Life would be boring if that were the case. But all I can say is, it’s really up to you whether you want to take action or not.” 

A comfortable silence engulfs the two occupants on the balcony, the soft chatter from the V.League Association party almost seemed it were music flowing throughout the large penthouse, the usual busy streets of Shinjuku were quiet as the time flew by, signalling how late it had gotten. 

“Thank you,” Atsumu breaks the silence, a small smile playing on his lips. 

She nods her head, returning his smile with her own, “It’s nothing, really. I may not know what’s really happening, but I know the feeling of being part of a complicated situation. Trust me, I’m having a hard time following my own advice.” 

“I’m sure you’ll—” 

“Am I interrupting something?” 

The two switch their attention over to the man that steps into the comfortable space, Atsumu flickering his gaze back and forth to the woman next to him and the volleyball player that made his appearance. He notes the stiff posture of the woman who had been accompanying him and he comes to the conclusion that it was his cue to leave. “Ah, no Ushijima-san. I believe you’re looking for this one, so I’ll leave you two to it.” 

Before Atsumu could leave the two to talk, the woman calls out his name. He glances back over his shoulder, capturing a glimpse of her encouraging smile. “If you love her, you should let her know.”

He gives her an appreciative smile before stepping back inside of the penthouse, the murmur of a chatter earlier from the balcony becoming more clear and loud. Placing the half-empty bottle of Sapporo down on a surface in the lounging area, he glances over at the digital wall clock. 

An hour until midnight. It would take him at least an hour or so to travel back to Kanagawa from Shinjuku.

Not wasting another second, despite the calls from his teammates, he leaves the party with determination. 

The thin hospital blanket you had requested earlier from a nurse barely gave you any warmth, your body engulfed in a chilly embrace. Not even curling up your body to a fetal position and clinging the white sheets closer gave you any source of heat. 

Letting out a groan of frustration, you push the blankets away and shift your body to a sitting position on the rather uncomfortable armchair provided by the hospital, giving up on sleep for the meantime. Aside from the murmur produced from the air conditioner and the steady beeping of Atsuhiro’s vitals indicating a healthy heartbeat from the monitor, it was too silent for your liking. 

You realize it was almost midnight after a quick glance at the digital clock that rested on the surface of the side table next to Atsuhiro’s bed, and you couldn’t help but let out a heavy sigh. At least Atsuhiro was sleeping peacefully. It had taken a while before he had gotten used to sleeping in another bed that wasn’t his, often waking up in the middle of the night or not being able to sleep at all. 

The sound of shuffling breaks your train of thought and you shift your attention over to your sleeping mother who you insisted occupied the small couch. A little sore back was nothing of an appreciation for your mother’s attentiveness to your sons. She had refused to return back to Hyōgo until Atsuhiro had been discharged from the hospital, and despite it taking awhile since there hadn’t been a suitable donor for him yet, not a single complaint had left your mother’s mouth. 

You couldn’t help but shoulder the burden of the delay on finding Atsuhiro a donor, the past weeks had been hectic and stressful. And if you were going to be honest, ever since that disaster of a dinner, you had been putting off the idea of having the much needed talk with Atsumu. You were just thankful that Atsuhiro’s condition hadn’t worsened since then.

You were, more or else, afraid, of where or how the conversation was going to end. The doubt you had was not just because of your insecurities, but it was also because, since that night, you hadn’t heard from Atsumu himself. You couldn’t blame him, the night had ended in disaster as well, nor was the morning after very pleasant from being bombarded with strings of questions from your friends. 

Fame. 

It was something you never got used to despite your friends being in a boy band for so long. You were now under the spotlight, and what was worse was that after some thorough digging by crazy fans, your sons, your precious sons, had been dragged through mud. However, you were grateful for certain fans, the fans of Galaxy Standard in particular, had defended you without much of a command from their idols. As soon as your name, and your kids, were mentioned, they immediately jumped in to defend you. Bless their souls. 

Although, you still couldn’t believe it yourself of the events that occurred right after you had exited the restaurant, intent on returning to the hospital. 

The already dreadful night takes a turn for the worst, the annoying high pitched shrill being repeated causing you to wince as the woman who had completely ruined, well, a already ruined dinner made her way through the threshold of little sanity that you had left and closed the gap between her and Atsumu by wrapping her arms around his neck from behind where he sat, she was dangerously standing close to you, more so enough for you to maybe stab your chopsticks to her side for her pesky squealing. What is she trying to imitate? A tortured pig? 

You didn't bother to cease your eye roll, this is Atsumu's type? Now, you know you aren't all that amazing or anything and looking at the woman clinging to Atsumu, she looked all around amazing, it was pretty obvious that she was a model. However, the personality she was exhibiting was nowhere near your expectations of the women Atsumu would date. It was overbearing. 

Instead of dealing with such ridiculous antics from a grown woman acting like a child, you decide it was best to find an excuse to leave. As the opportunity presented itself on a silver platter, you took it without any hesitation despite the quiet protests of Reiji from behind you. Exhaustion had left you with little sanity and dealing with someone like Yumi, well, you weren’t having it. 

Saying your polite goodbye, you left without another word, ignoring the pleading looks from your friends. It wasn’t as if you were angry or anything, maybe just a tad on the jealous side when Yumi had introduced herself as Atsumu’s girlfriend, but either than that, you just wanted a quiet night. The rowdy bunch was already enough to drain you, but having to deal with someone like Yumi? Yeah, no thanks. 

Stepping out of the restaurant, you shiver from the rush of cold air that brushes against the exposed patches of skin, making you silently regret not bringing a jacket with you. Instead of dwelling on your silly mistake, you wrap your arms around yourself for your momentary source of warmth, rubbing your exposed arms with your soft palms, it would have to do for the meantime. 

Luckily, you were familiar with the area since you’ve been to the restaurant more times than you can count, that despite not having a ride back to the hospital, you were at least knowledgeable of the area. You began your journey towards the nearest bus stop, knowing it was still fairly early since the dinner hadn’t even progressed that far yet. Somehow, despite being irritated by Yumi's presence, you were grateful for intrusion, at least you would be able to return to Atsuhiro earlier than expected. You’d have to give Shizuma a call once you return to the hospital to check on Atsuhiko. 

Thankfully, the walk to the nearest bus stop was short, because walking in heels was never something you adored, wincing already from the discomfort. You couldn’t wait to take them off for much more comfortable shoes. However, as you neared the bus stop, you hear his pleading shouts of your name and you halt almost instantly. For a moment, you wondered if it were just in your head, but at the sound of shouts mixed with hurried steps grew louder, your heart swells weirdly in your chest. Spinning around, you come to face Atsumu, catching his breath, his hands on his knees. 

“What…?” you mutter under your breath, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be entertaining your girlfriend back there?” 

As he regains his composure, he pushes himself to stand properly, meeting your gaze instantly. His gaze catching your breath in your throat. Mesmerizing. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he shakes his head, looking at you with sincerity in his eyes, “I promise.” 

The corners of your mouth tug down to a frown, “Why are you telling me this, Atsumu? It’s fine. You’re not obligated to tell me who you’re dating. Just because we have kids together, doesn’t mean we should fix our shit and get togeth—” 

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts, causing your eyes to widen briefly before your brows furrowed in confusion from his apology. Sensing your confusion, he continues, “I’m sorry for everything. For our shitty past, for not treating you better, for not realizing my idiotic ways. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for a lot of things.” 

You press your lips to a thin line, racking your brain for a response. Well, what were you supposed to say? You had imagined this before, imagined what it would be like when Atsumu apologizes for things, and back then, you would have seen yourself rejecting his apologies, but as you stood there at that very moment, you couldn’t find the anger that you had. Then, you realized. This was Atsumu. 

Your best friend since you were eight years old, the one person that always bothered and teased you to no end, but no matter what, you could never find yourself being mad at him for a long period of time. You were always quick to forgive him. 

“And, I’m sorry for this,” he breaks your train of thought and you wonder what he means for a second, but as he closes the gap between the two of you as he cups your cheeks in his hands, you don’t fight back. 

You let him bring your face closer to his. 

You don’t fight back. 

Not even when his lips had found its rightful place against your own. 

You are pulled from your thoughts at the sound of knocking echoing throughout the quiet room, not realizing how your fingers have found their way against your lips, brushing along its luscious shape, almost as if you were reminiscing the sensation of his lips. 

The sound of knocking interrupts you once more and for a second, you had thought you had imagined it, but as it was repeated a few more times, you began wondering who it might be. After crossing the room in long strides, you slide the door open, eyes widening at the man standing before you.

“I love you.”