#I have feelings about a lot of green bois

[neptxn3]

Astrology Notes III

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪₊‧°

Disclaimer, these are observations I have made through personal experience and thorough research, observations also vary depending on other natal placements involved

doesn’t resonate ≠ untrue 

♅ Pluto in the 10th house has a tendency to come across as very overbearing in the workplace. This is having a routinely structure you want to have done precisely every day, so this makes you ask your coworker if they want you to do the coffee run for a meeting, staying past closing time to make sure everything is in place, doing 10x as much work as your coworkers because you like things in a certain order.

it also causes coworkers to think of you as someone who’s willing to step over them in order to appear as this solid leader who is better than them ( and often times this does manifest in the native) but mostly it is subconscious.

It honestly reminds of the devil wears Prada where Andrea gets so good at guessing what Miranda’s expectations are that she goes over the top in order to please her and it gets to the point she manages to snag the trip to Paris that has always been given to Emily in the singular year she’s worked at the magazine. Andrea being Pluto person who unknowingly becomes the ‘better’ assistant.

♅ There’s a natural discomfort when one has the Moon placed in the first house, especially if placed in signs like Aquarius or Capricorn due to the fact that their emotions are put on display which is a forced vulnerability. 

I actually find fire placements (not typically Sagittarius) who actually find enjoyment in their faces being easily read? One because fire placements are less inclined to hide their feelings, and two because they can be a bit impatient to get their point across 

♅ Virgo placements are kinda funny in the sense that they’re not necessarily clean freaks, they won’t go out of their way to clean someone’s room because it’s dirty, but they are obviously very precise with their own mess, they don’t like being messy themselves you know? It’s not seen as a second nature to clean but rather an obligation for them because they need clean spaces in order to be productive with an active Mercury influence. 

I actually find it very common for Virgo placements to have an “organized mess” too. They know where they left their green paperclip in their messy rooms (it’s under the left desk leg). 

♅ Taurus placements , fixed signs in general, but especially Taurus placements grow up with a specific set of beliefs and morals that they follow through and through. It’s because of their fixed nature that they will refuse to change, in fact Taurus placements consider their perspective to be so correct, if afflicted, Taurus placements can be the hardest to evolve in your chart. 

♅ cancer risings tend to attract very dangerous men/women due to Scorpio being in their 5th house, this is actually why cancers fall under the sweet damsel in distress who dates the big bad boys in romantic tropes a lot lol but yes they actively seek people who have a dark reputation or damaged past as lovers

♅ People with Mars in the 12th house are often accused of being unmotivated and lazy by people in their life but it actually stems from the fact that mars is uncomfortable being in a house that’s connected to the unconscious mind while craving the open expression of anger and ambition mars naturally is. I actually find they overthink their actions. You can remind a person with mars in the 12th house to take out the trash before bed because the garbage collectors come tomorrow and they will spend the whole day cleaning the house, drain their energy and say “I’ll just wake up early and do it tomorrow” but they never do 😭 They confuse themselves!! 

it’s also interesting to note a person with a 12th house prominence that includes mars will be defensive about their said actions. “Take out the trash” “I was already planning on doing it but now I don’t want to”. I include 12th house prominence because a mars in the 12th also has stealthy actions and thoughts 🤫

♅ People with their 4th house ruler in the 7th house will have emotional withdrawals if their routine does not involve socializing with others. You’ll typically see this in people who choose to search for roommates during college, move in with close friends to “save on rent” or choose to never move out of their parents home ( I support this in this economy lol)

you’ll also see this in people who are serial daters, not to say that their relationships don’t impact them greatly, but they feel a requirement to express their feelings with others. 

Could make great therapists too actually

♅ Mercury square saturn people need precise instructions whenever they do something. Mercury can be very sporadic in square aspects because their communication is being misconstrued the same way a radios antennae need to be arranged in a certain way  in order to get signal. With Saturn representing structure, they prefer very detailed instructions on pretty much anything. You need them to get a wrench? It’s on the left? Top, middle, or bottom? And what color is it? Is it in the back or front of the cabinet? 

Also, Mercury square Saturn/Sun people, we’re you the kids who’s dad yelled at them for holding the flashlight the wrong way when fixing something? 

♅ I find it very funny when Aquarius placements are dubbed the people who change the world with their innovative ideas because you will connect that to them actively trying to improve society but it’s actually because they just want life to be easier to navigate for themselves. They’re the type to invent flying cars, not for the next Industrial Revolution that will forever change man once again, but because they want a cheaper way to save on overseas travel 😭. Don’t get the wrong idea, a lot of them realize their potential and eventually use their ideas for good, but it usually starts off as very personal and self serving. 

[ninyard]

hii. as someone who hates driving or even being driven by most people I was having Thoughts about the monsters and their driving. like who taught them? are they good at driving? why did andrew trust nicky and neil but not aaron nor kevin with his fancy cars? how did aaron feel getting in the car with andrew after tilda’s death? kevin after kayleigh’s (is it canon she died in a car crash? I forget)?

here are my thoughts please add or disagree as you’d like

I think nicky and aaron would have taken driving lessons at school. I think aaron drives really safely but will only drive if necessary, while nicky is passable but will volunteer to take you places (with the music on blast ofc)

I think andrew learned from nicky after juvie though, but due to his car obsession has really good intuition. like he doesn’t necessarily follow all the rules since he likes going fast, but he knows exactly when it would be safe/reasonable to break them.

neil obviously learned from mary on the run so he’s good at navigating dangerous or crowded roads, but I have no idea if you’d *feel* safe with him driving. I could see him driving like a grandma or a reckless teen but no in between.

kevin would be the ultimate passenger princess. like he has a drivers license but it’s useless since the nest gave out its own drivers “tests.” he has no common sense while driving so four way stop signs confuse him so bad (me).

thoughts?

okokok here’s my thoughts

- Cass taught Andrew how to drive. He was way too young to be driving, but he mentioned once that he always wanted to learn, and so she grabbed her keys and took him out to an empty parking lot, and showed him how. One of the perks of Cass was that she taught him so many of these little life skills, and every once in a while he’d ask if they could drive. Definitely illegal and definitely not the safest but Cass loved to see Andrew smile, and when he had the freedom of driving down a long open road or when she clapped at him reversing into a parking spot perfectly, there was a part of him that was still young enough to find joy in that. Andrew is safe when he drives, you wouldn’t be afraid being in a car with him, but that’s not to say he doesn’t drive and park like a dick. He has a fucking sports car. Trust you’ll be glad you made it home alive if he ever gave you a ride. Plus he’s just a general menace. Don’t you dare take more than two seconds pulling off on a green light or he’s honking that horn. He drives too close to everyone. Pressures learner drivers. Cuts people off all the time. Takes up two spaces when he parks. King of parking illegally. But he wouldn’t dare risk damaging his car. He’s reckless but safe.

- Aaron has a license but I feel like he either doesn’t really drive because he doesn’t have to/need to, or else he’s like a Climate Conscious king and takes the bus or cycles places. I think him and Nicky would’ve learned together, and Nicky had a beat up piece of shit car when he was in highschool. Nicky drove them to school and blared music out the windows at 7am and Aaron always covered his face in the passenger seat. If Aaron did drive he’d probably be the safest driver. Nicky is a pretty safe driver too but he HATES driving in heavy traffic. He has such bad road rage when it’s busy.

- Neil is messy as fuck because he never learned from an instructor or anything. He had bad habits from the START. I like to imagine he either learned how to drive in the UK and is used to driving on the left side of the road, or else he’s just hoping and praying that muscle memory is going to save him every time he steps into a car. He also is more used to driving manual/stick shift so he occasionally forgets the difference in pedals, and brakes far too hard with the wrong foot. He also can’t parallel park. At all. He either takes corners way too quickly or wayyyy too slowly. He’s competent. But he’s rusty! And either drives like a grandma, as you say, or like a boy racer. There’s no in between.

- (Andrew is sitting in the passenger side for some reason one time he’s driving the Maserati and he makes him pull over. He asks Neil if he ever actually learned how to drive and he’s like well…not technically no. And Andrew tells him that if he was driving behind him he’d cut him off because he drives like a fucking jerk.)

- Kevin. Passenger princess Kevin. “Knows” how to drive. “Learned” how to drive. Can drive, but if you’re near him in traffic you better have a dash cam because oh. He nearly crashes into people because he merges without checking his blind spot and then just goes whoops and keeps going. Will quickly change lanes if he’s going to miss his turn without double checking that he’s safe and like. It’s completely unintentional. Kevin has no idea that he drives like an idiot. But people blow their horn at him so often he fucking hates driving because he’s like god what am I doing wrong?? When he’s just nearly caused a four car pileup. You’ll be waiting for hours if you get caught behind him coming up to a roundabout. It’s just Kevin “no thoughts head empty” day with the clicking of his blinker and a dozen missed opportunities where he could’ve gone ahead. Kevin Day is and always will be a passenger princess. Which he deserves and is fully allowed to be btw. It’s just a miracle he hasn’t been in a huge accident. But I bet his perfect Raven car that has been gathering dust in the PSU parking lot with flat tyres and a handful of parking tickets under his wipers is dinged up TO FUCK. Scratches down the side where he misjudged the position of a wall. Dents in his bumper from when he parked too fast and bumped the car into bollards. Ask that man to change a tyre and he’ll cry. Kevin is NOT a car guy.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hey !

I love reading your posts , you are brilliant truly.

I would like to request an analysis of James potter and maybe his relationship with lily Evans.

Thank you so much for your time !

Hi!

Thank you so much! 💕 I love writing these analysis posts, and I'm so glad other people enjoy reading them!

Now, James and Lily Potter, I'll start by giving my biased opinion which is that I like them as characters (especially Lily, love her) and their relationship.

So without further ado:

James Potter's Childhood

So before the Pottermore article that revealed Fleamont and Euphemia existed, the common fanon parents of James were Charlus and Dorea, I'm going to go with Fleamont and Euphemia being his parents though. (I still sometimes prefer his parents to be Charlus and Dorea in fic, even though it makes less sense with what we know about James, as I'll mention later).

So what do we know about the Potter family?

We know they are pretty rich. Not Malfoy or Black level rich, but they have a substantial amount of money as shown repeatedly:

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.

(PS, 57)

We also know, from Pottermore, that the Potters are relatively newer money, making a good portion of their wealth from Henry Potter’s potions business (James' grandfather).

We also know Potters are common enough members in the Wizengamont from Pottermore. I posed here that the Wizengamot seats pass down families, which will place the Potters as wealthy and influential in the wizarding community as a whole.

“My whole family have been in Slytherin,” he said. “Blimey,” said James, “and I thought you seemed all right!” Sirius grinned. “Maybe I’ll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?” James lifted an invisible sword. “’Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!’ Like my dad.” Snape made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him. “Got a problem with that?”

(DH, 567)

We know from James his father was in Gryffindor and probably his grandfather too. His distaste towards Slythering and anything resembling Dark Magic probably came from home. The same way Draco came to Hogwarts with his notions of blood purity and how Slytherin was the best house because he was parroting his parents, James is the same. He is an 11-year-old shouting off whatever he hears at home.

This is why I mentioned Fleamont and Euphemia make more sense as James' parents. As much as I personally like the idea of his parents being Charlus and Dorea, it wouldn't make sense with what we see. Dorea was born a Black, which means James would likely know who Sirius is and would probably have different notions regarding Slytherin house if his mother was there...

James Potter, then, grew up as the only child of a rich and politically influential family of Gryffindors, he was spoiled and used to having anything he wanted whenever he wanted, which is clear from his behavior.

James yawned hugely and rumpled up his hair, making it even messier than it had been. Then, with a glance toward Professor Flitwick, he turned in his seat and grinned at a boy sitting four seats behind him.

(OotP, 642)

He is brilliant and he is aware of it. Lily refers to him as arrogant often before they start dating, and I have to agree with her assessment of the teenage James. James at 15 is lounging in his seat and feels untouchable. He is at the top of his own world, popular, rich, and brilliant. So of course he's arrogant, he feels like nothing could reach him.

Ron said, stopping mid-sentence at the look on Harry’s face. “Why are you grinning?” “I’m not,” said Harry quickly, looking down at his Transfiguration notes and attempting to straighten his face. The truth was that Ron had just reminded Harry forcibly of another Gryffindor Quidditch player who had once sat rumpling his hair under this very tree.

(OotP, 704)

But it isn't that simple. James chooses to appear unbothered and untouchable, and I do think he is prideful but not as arrogant as Lily and Snape make him out to be, even at 15. The reason I think that is the above passage. I never really saw anyone bring it up in association with James' character, but Harry mentions Ron messing up his hair as he brags about his Quidditch save in much the same way James did in the memory he saw. The reason this is interesting is that we know Ron, we know how insecure he is and that all this hair messing is show and bravado that isn't fully backed up.

And considering the parallels I already mentioned James having with Draco and will mention more of them later, I wonder if James really does have insecurities he covers up with pride and arrogance — something we see both Ron do (in the above scene) and Draco do in general.

James Potter, when it comes down to it, has more in common with Draco Malfoy than with Harry in terms of his personality and even character arc, down to some of the things he says:

“Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?” James asked the boy lounging on the seats opposite him, and with a jolt, Harry realized that it was Sirius. Sirius did not smile.

-James Potter to Sirius Black, 1971 (DH, 567)

“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been — imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”

-Draco Malfoy to Harry Potter, 1991 (PS, 58)

So James is spoiled, snobbish, and used to getting his way in everything, unlike Lily and Sirius, who grew up with siblings and were more used to having to share or give up their wants sometimes. James also feels the need to live up to certain expectations, he has to be the best (the way Draco thought he would be at Hogwarts), he needs to be popular and top of the class and a lot of his pride and confidence probably hinges on these external sources, his arrogance is superficial. I just can't see a character who has real self-confidence be shown in narrative parallels to either Ron "self-esteem issues" Weasley or Draco "Arrogance to Hide Weakness" Malfoy.

The Mauraders

We move on to James' time at Hogwarts. He gets sorted into Gryffindor and befriends the Mauraders. I kinda want to talk about their friendship dynamic a bit, because it is interesting.

We saw in the earlier quote from the train, that Sirius was the first of the Mauraders James met, and he was the closest to him out of the bunch. I'm going to talk more about Sirius and James' friendship later in this post as they are a separate entity from the Marauders. I mean, there's a reason everyone in PoA keeps mentioning James and Sirius in a single breath while Lupin is never brought up.

(I know the reason is so JKR could keep the reveal for later, but in universe, it's quite telling)

Now, from what we see of them, they have a very clear dynamic. James is the leader, and Sirius is his second and only real equal (academically and by popularity) who are the closest to each other. Then we have Remus, who is friends with them, but they don't take him or his concerns as seriously. Remus was usually afraid to speak up against James and Sirius because he felt he was expandable to the friend group, a feeling Peter shared, if even worse than Remus. James and Sirius didn't really treat Peter great:

“Put that away, will you?” said Sirius finally, as James made a fine catch and Wormtail let out a cheer. “Before Wormtail wets himself from excitement.” Wormtail turned slightly pink but James grinned. “If it bothers you,” he said, stuffing the Snitch back in his pocket. Harry had the distinct impression that Sirius was the only one for whom James would have stopped showing off.

(OotP, 645)

Sirius is the one James actually takes cues from and vice versa. Pettigrew is often belittled and made the butt of their jokes and Remus:

“I’m bored,” said Sirius. “Wish it was full moon.” “You might,” said Lupin darkly from behind his book.

(OotP, 345)

“How thick are you, Wormtail?” said James impatiently. “You run round with a werewolf once a month —” “Keep your voice down,” implored Lupin. Harry looked anxiously behind him again.

(OotP, 643)

Is treated friendlier than Peter, but not with the same respect James and Sirius reserve for each other. James mentions Remus is a werewolf in a crowded hall, Sirius endangered Remus' secret during The Prank. We see Sirius doesn't really take Remus' Lycanthropy as the serious concern it is for Remus. Obviously, Sirius gets better about it, but this is the dynamic of the Marauders the way we see them. It's a far cry from a healthy friend group, but they were teenagers, and teens actually do on occasion have these kinds of friend groups that you question if it can be called friendship (I know I've seen a few of these in my school). I think the adult Remus and Sirius we see in OotP are closer than they were in school, and the reason for that was the war and having no one else really, but this is a James meta and not a Mauraders in general meta, so I'll focus.

Prongs

Many in the fandom already talked about what a brilliant and insane feat of magic becoming animagi at 15 is. We know James was a prodigy in Transfiguration and other areas of magic as well considering his confidence regarding the DADA exam. What I want to talk about Prongs, in particular, is the symbolism of a stag as one's Animagus form.

I talked about this a little already here, but basically, stags and deers in general represent:

The cycle of life and death

Agility and grace

Bravery

Nobility

Stags additionally represent:

Masculinity

Authority

Leadership

Fatherhood

So, what does all this tell us about James?

Well, it tells us he is as Gryffindor as they come (Bravery & Nobility), the cycle of life & death is his connection to the Peverells and his own early demise. Agility and grace make sense as well if you take it to mean he was a talented and graceful dueler, which is very possible and even likely.

And then we have the stag-specific traits. These are traits I think James only grew into later in life and would've grown into more. I mean, he was always charismatic and had the ability to lead people, he was leading the Mauraders and was incredibly popular. But I think the traits of the stag with fatherhood and authority suggest maturity, something the young James definitely lacked. I think his Animagus, more than anything proves he did change, and would've continued growing into himself to truly become the stag if he was given a chance to grow old. Because stags are positive leadership, father figures, and authority, they are supposed to represent the noblest kinds of leaders they have the internal self-confidence James lacks. And if that is the animal that represents James, it means he had it in him to be what the stag represents.

Bullying and Maturity

Sirius said it well enough:

“Yeah,” said Harry, “but he just attacked Snape for no good reason, just because — well, just because you said you were bored,” he finished with a slightly apologetic note in his voice. “I’m not proud of it,” said Sirius quickly. Lupin looked sideways at Sirius and then said, “Look, Harry, what you’ve got to understand is that your father and Sirius were the best in the school at whatever they did — everyone thought they were the height of cool — if they sometimes got a bit carried away —” “If we were sometimes arrogant little berks, you mean,” said Sirius. Lupin smiled. “He kept messing up his hair,” said Harry in a pained voice. Sirius and Lupin laughed. “I’d forgotten he used to do that,” said Sirius affectionately. “Was he playing with the Snitch?” said Lupin eagerly. “Yeah,” said Harry, watching uncomprehendingly as Sirius and Lupin beamed reminiscently. “Well . . . I thought he was a bit of an idiot.” “Of course he was a bit of an idiot!” said Sirius bracingly. “We were all idiots!

(OotP, 670)

James was an awful bully, toward Snape:

“This’ll liven you up, Padfoot,” said James quietly. “Look who it is. . . .” Sirius’s head turned. He had become very still, like a dog that has scented a rabbit. “Excellent,” he said softly. “Snivellus.”

(OotP, 645)

“And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it,” said Lupin. “Even Snape?” said Harry. “Well,” said Lupin slowly, “Snape was a special case. I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James, so you couldn’t really expect James to take that lying down, could you?” “And my mum was okay with that?” “She didn’t know too much about it, to tell you the truth,” said Sirius. “I mean, James didn’t take Snape on dates with her and jinx him in front of her, did he?”

(OotP, 671)

And even toward Peter, who Sirius and James constantly belittle:

“How thick are you, Wormtail?” said James impatiently. “You run round with a werewolf once a month —”

(OotP, 643)

I mentioned above how the 15-year-old James wasn't really the embodiment of the stag just yet, like Sirius said they were idiots. Sure, Harry rightfully calls them out that it isn't a good excuse for anything they did, but Harry is a very mature 15-year-old.

As for what motivated his bullying?

Honestly, I think it wasn't all that dissimilar to Draco, in terms of motivations at least. I mentioned above how James' conception of himself is tied to his being at the top, the most popular, the most talented, the top student. One way to feel at the top is to put others down. Most of his bullying was probably fueled by this need to assure himself he is better and assert control (but, more on that later).

I don't think Snape should forgive James or any of the Mauraders or anything like that, not at all, what they did to him was awful and the fact James continued seeking him out even after he mostly dropped the bullying makes it so much worse.

But at the same time, I tend to believe Sirius, Remus, and Lily about him changing, that, given time, he would've matured even more:

“Look,” he said, “your father was the best friend I ever had, and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it.”

(OotP, 671)

I'm a big believer that people can and do change over time, especially teenagers. Life experiences change who you are, especially big and traumatic occasions, and James encountered one hell of a life experience to kick-start his growth and maturity:

The first wizarding war

I won't go into the full detail on what happened in the war but I want to talk about how the war changed James.

I discussed the progression of the first war as part of my analysis of Voldemort here and when James and Lily went into hiding here. Now, the Marauders were in school between September of 1971 and June of 1978. As I mentioned in the Voldemort analysis post I linked, the war really started getting bad, the first casualties, were in 1975 when the minister of magic was replaced. This makes James and the Mauraders 5th or 6th years when the war truly begins. I personally think this was late in 1975, as in November or December when the Minister was booted from office, aligning well with James' change.

What I think this was for him is a moment the rug was pulled from under him.

I think, the same way the second war showed Draco who he is as a person, that he doesn't want to hurt and torture, not even muggleborns, the first war was the same for James. He learned about himself and his own priorities. He just learned different things than Draco because James is very much willing to hurt and probably kill for what he thinks is just and for the people he cares for. He can be cruel and ruthless.

The wizarding world is an incredibly small community, with this kind of small population that almost all work together (the ministry) when someone dies, especially someone important (I believe the first deaths were high in the ministry or even Wizengamont members) it rattles everything. For James, who felt his skill, money, and status made him practically untouchable, this is a slap in the face. This to him starts his journey to see he is not above anyone else and he is just like anyone else — can die and hurt like everyone else.

War, even when you aren't on the front lines, even just hearing that Mr. Whatever's brother was killed and your old neighbors who moved away lost their son — it doesn't leave you unscathed. It forces you to confront how little control over certain aspects of life you actually have. And in a community so small that every death is someone you at least knew in passing or knew someone who knew — every death hits hard. Every death feels too close to home.

I think this is part of why James continued bullying Snape even after his change in approach. It wasn't out of the same arrogance as before, now it's by a need to feel in control. To hurt a familiar enemy that represents the Death Eaters to feel a semblance of stability under his feet. I think, this was part of what motivated James, a roundabout justice against the Death Eaters at large when he felt powerless. So he took it on whoever he could — in this case, Snape.

I'm not trying to justify it, I'm just explaining what I think motivated James and why he would do that if he was in the process of changing for the better.

All of this gives James ample motivation to join the Order, after all, he wants to hit back against the Death eaters, he wants to feel balanced and in control again. So he probably jumped at the opportunity to join the Order.

The Order of the Phoenix

We don't know much about what James did in the Order, and it doesn't matter too much for the sake of analysis. We know he joined at graduation, so, June 1978. I also mentioned in the aforementioned post how the war got worse in 1979, which means that before he went into hiding, James was probably involved in a few skirmishes in the war when it was already at its peak.

We also know James and Lily got married incredibly early, almost immediately after graduating. That too, is probably influenced by the war. After all, war can either speed up life events or slow them down, depending on various factors among which is the optimism of the people involved. James and Lily getting married and pregnant in the middle of the war tell us something about their characters — it tells us they were incredibly optimistic and hopeful for the future. They got married and had Harry in the hope and belief that the war would be over soon enough and Harry would grow up in a better world. That is what they believed in and I think this is just, really interesting.

Then they went into hiding, and we know what happened from there. There are two things I want to mention about this period in hiding in regards to James' character.

First, James' first choice was Sirius, Sirius is the one to convince him to choose Pettigrew instead:

“Harry . . . I as good as killed them,” he croaked. “I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me. . . . I’m to blame, I know it. . . .

(PoA, 365)

As I mentioned above, the Mauraders looked down on Pettigrew. I think the plan always was to tell everyone Sirius was the secret keeper so he'd draw the fire and torture and potential death, so the real secret keeper, and the secret, would remain safe even if he was killed for it (which is a sad thought, but that's about Sirius).

Pettigrew was chosen by Sirius for how unassuming he is, Sirius is so ready to sacrifice his life for his friends that he couldn't fathom Pettigrew wouldn't do the same. James didn't choose Pettigrew because of his faith in him as a friend the way Voldemort implies, no, I think James chose Pettigrew because of his faith in Sirius. If Sirius said its a good idea, then it was a good idea to James.

Second, is this quote:

James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell

(DH, 158)

There are two things I want to unpack in this one sentence (I do love doing that).

James, quite similar to Sirius in OotP, doesn't like being cooped up away from the action. He hates not being out there for very similar reasons to Sirius. He loathes feeling useless like he isn't doing anything to help while people are dying. While his friends are risking their lives. James, at his core, is a person who cares deeply for the people he considers his, he would feel incredible guilt sitting safely behind magical protections while they were in danger.

Lily says James is trying to hide how frustrated he actually is, this is significant, why? Well because the 15-year-old version of James who complained easily about being a little bored wouldn't have hid his complaints. He would have voiced them to anyone willing to listen. The fact he isn't doing that shows some of his growth and maturity, it shows he is self-aware enough about the situation that he knows he shouldn't be the one complaining considering he and his family are safe. He still feels frustrated for the above reasons, but he tries to be considerate and keep things at home with Lily as intense as he can in the way he thinks is best. He is actively trying, and I think that's important.

Now, James has two important relationships that really define his character for me. Sirius and Lily.

Quite the Double Act

I adore James and Sirius's friendship honestly, they were each other's most important person and I can't really talk about James without talking about Sirius (as seen in this entire post), after all, no one in the books seems able to operate these two when talking about them in POA:

“Naturally,” said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. “Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here — ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!”

(PoA, 204)

Sirius and James met on the train at the age of 11 and couldn't be separated since (well, until death, that is). They are the heart of the Mauraders as a friend group and I've seen some other blogs bring up already how unhinged their friendship was:

This is a two-way mirror. I’ve got the other. If you need to speak to me, just say my name into it; you’ll appear in my mirror and I’ll be able to talk in yours. James and I used to use them when we were in separate detentions.

(OotP, 858)

They literally invented an advanced magical communication method so they wouldn't have to go an hour without talking to each other. When we see them finishing the exam in SWM, the first person they look at is each other and communicate with no words that the exam was great.

These two are just, on the same wavelengths. I had a friend in high school who, when we would talk to other people, and she'd be unsure how to say something so she'll just turn to me, communicate a whole ass concept in eye contact alone, and then I'll explain it aloud to whoever we were talking to. I am convinced James and Sirius were like that too, where they didn't even need to talk to understand each other, they just knew.

For them the answer to "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" was always "Yes" or "Now I do"

Sirius was the best man at James' wedding, Harry's godfather and he still held a special place for James, to the point Lily was very aware of it:

If you could visit, it would cheer him up so much.

(DH, 158)

I mean, I don't know of many friendships like this, where the guy's wife asks his best friend over because they were apart for too long and getting antsy. I mean, it is bizarre.

In my head, if there wasn't a war, Sirius would've probably practically moved in with James and Lily. Sure, he had his own apartment, but you'd rarely ever find him there.

During the war it was too risky, James and Lily were in hiding and Sirius was doing missions for the Order, but again, if there wasn't a war, I think Sirius and James would've still been joined at the hip way into adulthood.

Sirius is one of the only two people James would ever take cues from no questions asked. I just, love them, okay.

Head Boy and Head Girl

Now, to James' second most important relationship: Lily.

James' crush on Lily started pretty early in their school years. We know it wasn't quite a love-at-first-sight as in the meeting on the train we don't really see any of it. I would guess his crush on her started growing as he got to know her as a housemate. I think James liked how smart and talented Lily was. James considers himself the best, his best friend is also the best, a top student, handsome and popular — his crush would be the same. Lily's kindness, likeability, and intelligence were huge turn-ons for him, not just the fact she was gorgeous (but that too).

I want to talk about this quote:

then back at James, who was now doodling on a bit of scrap parchment. He had drawn a Snitch and was now tracing the letters L. E. What did they stand for?

(OotP, 642)

This is adorable. James is a romantic guy, he was doodling Lily's initials on a spare parchment. I bet he wrote out "Lily Potter" in hearts and everything. I find it hilarious and adorable and it both shows he had a crush on her, but it also shows a really dorky and romantic side that no one (of the characters we meet) mentions because they probably haven't seen it. Well, Sirius probably did, but he doesn't really get many chances to talk to Harry about James unfortunately.

Sirius mentions that they went out on dates (something Harry and Ginny don't really do), and with James doodling Lily's initials I bet they were super cheesy and romantic. He'll take her out to picnics and light candles and carve their initials in a heart on a tree.

If they lived to raise Harry, they'd be the kind of parents who had a weekly date night and left their kids with Sirius for the evening.

“I didn’t mean—I just don’t want to see you made a fool of—He fancies you, James Potter fancies you!” The words seemed wrenched from him against his will. “And he’s not. . . everyone thinks. . . big Quidditch hero—” Snape’s bitterness and dislike were rendering him incoherent, and Lily’s eyebrows were traveling farther and farther up her forehead. “I know James Potter’s an arrogant toerag,” she said

(DH, 569)

Now, about some of the downsides of their relationship.

Yeah, James was persistent in flirting with Lily for years before she agreed to go out with him. He bullied her best friend and acted like an idiot. She considered him an "arrogant toerag" which isn't very complementary.

That being said, even when she calls him out, she still defends him to Snape in the above conversation. While Lily disapproved of James' behavior, I don't think she ever really hated him, not the way Snape did. She didn't like how he was acting, but she didn't hate him:

“Oh, well, he always made a fool of himself whenever Lily was around,” said Sirius, shrugging. “He couldn’t stop himself showing off whenever he got near her.” “How come she married him?” Harry asked miserably. “She hated him!” “Nah, she didn’t,” said Sirius. “She started going out with him in seventh year,” said Lupin. “Once James had deflated his head a bit,” said Sirius.

(OotP, 671)

I think Sirius is right about this for the reasons I mentioned above. Lily never really hated James, just thought he was an idiot (rightfully so) and once he got less arrogant, she was more willing to date him.

I think their relationship wasn't a bad one, I think they did love each other and mostly got along really well. I think Lily liked James' sense of humor after it mellowed out a bit and she liked that he's smart and talented. I think James liked Lily's calmness and intelligence and how much she cared for people.

Yeah, they probably argued about a lot of stupid things (I think they enjoyed their stupid arguments and barbs on occasion not unlike Ron and Hermione), but overall, I do like their relationship, I think they balanced each other out. James pushes Lily to allow herself to be a little silly, and Lily can put James in his place when he is being an idiot or needlessly cruel. And they are both incredibly smart and compassionate people... whenever I think about them it kinda makes me sad they didn't get to raise Harry. That Harry wouldn't have such a low view of himself, he'll probably have younger siblings, be used to having Sirius (and Remus too, to a lesser degree) around constantly, he would've been the top student in practically everything... I mean, he'd have a different set of issues, I'm sure, but, I don't know, I just made myself sad.

The fandom is pretty split on James, some talk about him as if he's some flawless sunshine child, which isn't the case. Yes, James is loyal, brave, and compassionate, but he can be cruel and ruthless and he uses arrogance as a mask for his insecurities and need to be great (I think James Potter could be a Slytherin, tbh). But on the flip side, some fans consider him nothing but a bully, and I tend to give him more credit than that. I think he was always more than that, but I believe Sirius, Remus, and Lily that he did change, and he probably would have continued to improve to become the brave and compassionate leader the stag represents if he had lived longer.

This post turned out way longer than I expected it to, but, here you go, James Potter's analysis of the top of my head.

[onpointedfeetandbrokendreams]

Day 7 - DBDA Week

Day 7 of Dead Boy Detectives Appreciation Week: 10th-16th June by @dbdcentral

A bit late but I did it! Thank you so much for organising this event, it's been a lot of fun! This is actually the first fic I wrote, then I got super self-conscious about it, but anyway here we are.

Also tagging @padfoot-lupin77 @jinchaeji and @lydiabop because they asked in the post.

Prompt: Memories

Relationships: Edwin Payne&Charles Rowland&Crystal Palace&Niko Sasaki

Tags:  Post-canon, Slice-of-life, Alive Niko Sasaki

TW: None

--

Edwin approached the package on his desk cautiously, memories of flames and the Night Nurse’s sudden appearance vivid in his mind. He relaxed when he saw his name in Niko’s pretty hand-writing on the wrapping paper. If she had anything to do with it, the package could not hurt him.

He examined the box, feeling its weight on his hands and turning it over with the care one would reserve for something fragile and precious.

Charles was not there, so he couldn’t extend his hand and wait for his best friend to put the letter opener in it like he would have on any other day. The thought was sudden, and it was discarded immediately, but it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He was still having some trouble in sharing Charles with the new members of their agency.

He noticed there was a pair of scissors on the desk, Niko’s doing as well for sure if the anime characters on the plastic handles were any indication.

Smiling the soft, affectionate smile he only reserved for the girl in question, he used one side of the scissors to open the package. 

There was a note inside, on a light blue card:

“A present for you, by Crystal and Niko”

There was a smiley face with heart eyes, and one with a funny scowl on the corner next to the names. It didn’t require a good detective to understand which one belonged to who.

Edwin tried to remember when was the last time he had received a present. Charles brought him books or interesting artefacts sometimes, but considering that they shared pretty much everything in their existence, none of them were entirely his.

Behind the card, he found a stiff envelope, from the weight and the size, he thought it probably contained a book. He tilted it to one side to let its content slide on his open hand.

When he saw what it was, a breath caught in his throat. There was a picture frame with a drawing of the office and the sign “Dead Boy Detectives Agency” behind the desk. The image of Charles leaning casually on the back of the chair with his charming smile, and his warm, beautiful eyes captured so perfectly that it could have almost been mistaken for a picture, if he didn’t know very well that ghosts didn’t appear in pictures. Sitting on the same chair, was a face he hadn’t seen in more than a hundred years, save for a fleeting moment, completely covered in blood in Hell. He barely recognized it.

He touched the drawing with trembling fingers, the emotion so strong it was overwhelming him. Drawn-Edwin had a satisfied smirk on his face, green eyes happier than he had ever seen them in a mirror when he was alive, he wondered if that was really how he looked like from the outside, and wished he had a way to find out.

Tears started streaming down his face, and he clutched the picture frame to his chest, like he was afraid it would disappear if he let it go.

It was in that same position that the other three members of the agency found him some time later.

Niko immediately understood what was happening, and moved to hug him from behind, her eyes teary as well.

“Oi Edwin, are you crying? Is everything okay?” Charles asked, clueless. Edwin smiled at him, to say that there was nothing to be worried about.

“I knew you would like it,” interjected Crystal with a smirk, sitting on the couch. She didn’t come too close, even if Edwin thought that he could almost hug her too in that moment.

“I-” Edwin tried. He wanted to say thank you, but he didn’t seem to find words big enough to express his emotion.

“Don’t worry, we know,” said Niko, letting go of the embrace and taking place next to Crystal.

“We found this artist online who accepted commissions,” Crystal started to explain, to fill the silence and give Edwin some more time to recover, he had never realised that she knew him so well - now he was certain he would hug her too. “It’s not been easy to make it work, because we didn’t exactly have reference pictures to show her. We told her it was for the cover of a book we were writing, and we described everything as accurately as we could. It took so many attempts, but we think she did an incredible job in the end.”

“We also paid her well,” Niko added, feeling it was important to point it out to avoid him feeling guilty about inconveniencing a human in her daily job.

“Can someone please include me in this conversation?” Charles said from behind the couch. He was standing with his arms crossed, and it almost looked like he was pouting.

Edwin didn’t want to separate from the picture, but there were few things he could deny Charles, if any, so he extended his hands and let him take it.

He was rewarded by a blinding smile on his friend’s face, one which rapidly scaled Edwin’s personal ranking of his favourites.

“Mate, it really looks like you,” he said in a whisper, his eyes fixed on the Edwin in the drawing instead of the real one in front of him.

Of course Charles would know how to immediately answer the question that was burning inside him but that he didn’t know how to ask.

It started a new wave of strong emotions. Edwin knew, on some level, that he was happier in his afterlife than he had been in life, and certainly a lot more than he had been in Hell, but now he had in his hands a tangible, concrete proof to confirm it. Seeing himself from the outside next to Charles, in the office they created, looking so peaceful and serene, made him feel like he was exactly in the place where he was supposed to be. There was nothing more he could ask for.

[ms-m-astrologer]

2024 Cancer Solstice

Thursday, June 20, 20:51 UT

Chart erected for Washington, DC

The Sun, Mercury, and Venus are huddled together in the first decanate of Cancer. They all make sextiles to Mars/Taurus (I’m stretching that for the Sun, though). That is all about feeling comfortable and safe; we can work hard on domestic projects, but it’s really more of a “find we a time for frighted peace to pant” feeling. The little Centaur Pholus opposes that Cancer stellium, upsetting applecarts and blowing up everybody’s tranquility.

The ruler of that Cancer stellium, the Moon, is in Sagittarius - and is the focus of a mutable (new situation) t-square. She’s square both ends of the Juno-Lilith/Virgo opposition to Saturn-Nessus/Pisces. This new situation manages to be both judgemental and commitment-phobic. There’s a lot of pressure for “traditional” values and relationships, a lot of guilt trips going out. Some of us need to consider how “perfectionism” is really a cover-up for not wanting to do something.

One solution is to fill in the empty leg and work on those qualities. Here, that is Gemini. Be a little intellectually detached - light-hearted - don’t insist that there is Only One Right Way to do things - and work on listening and communication skills.

Go ahead and focus on those domestic projects, but don’t shut out the rest of the universe. We need to be aware of what’s going on because that improves our plans. It’s still a Cardinal- and Mutable-sign emphasis; things are changing.

=+=+=+=+=+=

Back when I had a teenaged boy to feed, I always made a vegetarian feast for the Cancer Solstice: Spanish rice salad, lime-thyme potato salad, carrot-mango-pineapple salad, and Starhawk’s summer solstice cupcakes. Most of those recipes are now on the internet. Back then, I worked out of cookbooks and cooking magazines.

The teenaged boy always demolished most of that; once he moved out, though, the then-teenaged girl wasn’t quite as ravenous. (She also isn’t fond of leftovers.) I finally gave up on making the feast. This year, I think I’ll make tuna salad for just me!

I like the green lushness of this time of year (even though, living as I do in a semi-arid climate, I don’t always get it). There’s a lot of wild sweet peas, now - and chicory - which I also enjoy, and watch for.

But, it’s not remotely my favorite season, mostly because I hate hot weather. I probably need to work on that a bit. (Ms M Jr, on the other hand, hates cold weather. We have a good balance!)

[duchess-of-oldtown]

House of the Dragon Season 2, Episode 1 Thoughts

Just clarifying, these are my own thoughts, you don't like them, don't bother telling me so. Also, I'm not a book purist, I like adaptions taking putting their own spin on things - if it makes sense to do so. So, here were my thoughts. Obvs, this post is dark and full of spoilers.

I loved the opening, the whole callback to the White Walkers which cements the true arc of ASOIAF (and feels a fuck you to s8)

THEY CALLED VHAGAR THAT HOARY OLD BITCH, ONE OF MY FAVOURITE BOOK QUOTES

Rhaenys ate, she fucking ate, that's it girl you remind Daemon of your daughter and his place (you know that Daemon loved that shit)

And Daemon? The whole mother vs the Queen speech? What do you think YOUR mother would have done? Alyssa Targaryen would have done exactly the same if it were you torn apart and you goddamn know it.

Yes, Corlys mourning Luke. Everyone mourning Luke 😭😭😭

Alyn of Hull, slay.

Am I the only one who kinda thinks that the Hightower Sigil looks a little clip-arty? It's just not it 😬

I really wish they made the scorpions look better. I just always thought that the weapons would be more advanced because they actually know dragons.

Aegon and Helaena, you can sort of see that Aegon does care about her but he just doesn't know what to do with her.

Alicent ALICENT WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. GET THAT MAN AWAY FROM THERE

Also Criston? Giving head? Yeah, I'd think the sharks are real before I believed that.

Where was the build up to... That?

I actually fucking shuddered. SHUDDERED.

Tyland don't fucking annoy that little boy.

Terms? You killed her little boy and you sent terms?

Yes, Aegon you humiliate that Lannister bitch.

Why is Jaehaerys so sweet? 😭😭😭😭

Dalton Greyjoy mention!!

Mine are Bigger - Actual Aegon II energy

Why is Aemond sitting there like 🥺🥺🥺? You fucked up my guy.

Emma is heartbreaking.

Syrax never grew? Why she so tiny?

Arrax was so beautiful.

The actual stab of grief I got watching Rhaenyra on the beach. That was her baby. That was her little boy.

Aegon the Magnamious?

Aegon being nice on the throne? Being kind to the shepherd?

Your goats? No, sheep even better. 🙂 Aegon, I am meant to hate you.

Otto get fucked, Aegon was doing his best.

Hugh? Hugh Hammer? Girl,get the fuck out of here, asking for money and shit.

I can see a lot of ppl going to whine about them humanising Aegon but it's necessary? Complex characters and our relationships with them is GRRM's greatest skill.

Larys get away from that boy.

This is a green heavy episode. I know why but still, give us some Joffrey maybe? Some House Baratheon shitting themselves? The Great Houses getting the news and going oh fuck?

Daemon is lowkey right, Mysaria did help place Aegon on the throne but she is also right, he's only that angry with her because nobody else around.

Matt's acting is top tier because you can really see the grief, the anger and the insecurity when he's snarking.

Rhaenyra's return. Her silence, it's fucking gold.

Jace and Rhaenyra 😭😭😭😭 His lil voice. 😭😭😭

Where was Jeyne Arryn? Why no Jeyne??

The funeral 😭 lil Joffrey is too lil. Jace holding him *raptor screams*

Alicent, the fit ate but what good are prayers? Go smack that son of yours.

Somebody hug Rhaenyra. Right now. Rhaenys? Elinda? Baela? Rhaena? Hold that woman.

The CRIME HOODIE is back.

I still hate the gold cloaks' cloaks. They look like piss rags. Does nobody on the staff know what gold is? Look at Sunfyre.

The actual book quotes 🙂🙂🙂🙂

The War of Quills and Ravens, yes, yes

Aemond don't sit with Ser Incelot, he hast done thy mother

Y'know what, Aemond is a lil right, he's getting the blame for starting the war but Alicent and Otto literally laid the foundations?

Why is Criston standing for Otto? He's not a member of the royal family.

Aemond, sitting in that chair is very Daemon of you

Otto, showing off his slutty lil wrist, your pour yourself a lil drinky girl

Blood and Cheese have a lil dog with them. Please don't let anything happen to the dog.

There's something always so eerie about all those tunnels under the Red Keep. It absolutely terrifies me.

Aegon and his buddies sitting on the throne gives off fuck boi vibes and the Strong joke was actually pretty funny.

That Viserys statue is not it.

Why is Blood so fucking massive?

Cheese, did you just fucking kick that dog? I will kill what you love you absolutely bastard.

Oh, those locks. The world building, oh the worldBuilding

The atmosphere is very well captured. The music is on point.

I love the detailing of the interiors of the Red Keep, it's so much better than the OG series.

Oh Helaena.

Helaena, my love. Why Helaena, why her.

Why didn't they just check themselves?

How the fuck did the writers make Blood and Cheese that lack lustre? How the actual fuck do you fumble that?

Alicent, my fucking eyes, MY FUCKING EYES

I'm giving this a 7.5/10. Everyone else was great but HOW DO YOU FUCK UP BLOOD AND CHEESE? HOW? HOW? I DEMAND A TRIAL BY COMBAT

Also I must say, the Biblically accurate Hand of the King chain in the trailer is very good.

[shyanimesupremacist]

"unfortunate"

Izuku x F!VillainReader

1.9K words / angsty

Meeting you was so unexpected. The bumping of our paths came to be a blessing. Who knew I’d fall for some random boy on the train home. But you weren’t some random boy. You were a hero in the making who was passionate about saving as many people as he could. The complete opposite of me who existed to wreak havoc into people’s ordinary lives. 

You were a student who attended UA while I was a villain who had just joined the infamous League of Villains. 

People shoved their ways out of the train doors the second they opened. Losing their footing the H/C girl was caught from falling by a firm yet gentle hold on their wrist. “Eh are you okay?” The boy gently pulled Y/N to the side of the train as a means to avoid the shoving crowd. Her eyes landed on the boy who saved her from being trampled. On sight a glob of messy green dark hair came into view skimming down to meet his two beautiful emerald eyes that shone worry as well as slight pink color flushed his cheeks. 

Y/N blushed as ‘cute’ crossed her mind. “Yeah thanks.” She bowed her head slightly in thanks. The boy frantically waved his arms in embarrassment. “Hey no need to thank me!” The boy frantically waved his arms in embarrassment, the blush now more prominent on his cheeks. 

“Okay okay, don't freak out there, stranger. Anyways, what's your name?” “Midoriya Izuku.”  “Ah no wonder you looked familiar! You’re from the sports festival!” ‘Huh wait till Shigaraki gets a load of who I ran into.’ 

“Hey you busy?” “Eh” “I was asking if you were going to do anything. Since school is over for the day I thought you might want to catch some ice cream with me.”  

“I kind of have training today…” The girl looped her arm with the boys pulling him to the busy streets. “Come oooon. You look like you can skip out on one day, if you leave now I’ll feel guilty for letting you go like that. Please?” She puppy dogged the now blushing boy. “Okay one day won’t hurt.” 

The sun was now setting and the pair were laughing uncontrollably on a bench at the park. “Seriously no wayyyyy! This Kaminari sure sounds like a crackhead if you ask me.” Their conversation soon came to a halt as the girl’s phone rang. Peeking at the caller ID she frowned and forwarded the call. “Well Izuku this sure was a lot of fun. I hope we can see each other again.” “Oh you have to go now?” “Yeah my mom’s probably starting to wonder where I am.” The boy frowned a bit, having really enjoyed meeting the girl. “No need to frown there pretty boy, I hope, if it’s okay, we can see each other again?” 

Izuku’s cheeks coated in a red blush at the girl’s request. Enthusiastically he replied. “Yeah I’d really like that!” The boy shied a bit at how loud he was but the girl just chuckled. “Awesome! Let's exchange numbers and keep in touch then.” The pair exchanged phones and put in their numbers. “Eh deku?” “Ah yeah that’s what my friends call me.” “Oh.” “And you’re named Y/N?” “Yep. Anyways, I should hurry home. I’ll text you to let you know I’m home safe.” “Yeah!” 

The duo waved each other goodbye, smiling. 

*Ring ring* Dabi “Hello?” “It’s about goddamn time you answer the phone, I’ve been calling nonstop why didn’t you answer.” “Well if you must know I made a new friend.” “Yeah right, people like us don’t have time to waste on shit like that.” “Well I'd beg to differ. I’m sure you’d change your mind when you find out who it is.”

 …

“You mean you got to meet and be friends with that brat.” “Sure did, the kid seems very trusting of people.” “Keep in touch with him then, it’ll be an advantage once we find what kind of power he has.”

…

From there Izuku and Y/N called and texted each other day in and day out.  “Hey Deku you’ve been glued to your phone these past few days.” “Eh I guess I have.” “Yeah what’s up with that?” Kaminari chimed in with a smug face. “Lemme guess…it's a girl isn’t it.” Izuku’s cheeks immediately flushed. “Yup it’s definitely a girl!” 

…

“Are you sure your friends will like me?” Y/N nervously asked as she nervously squeezed the green haired boy's hand. Stopping right outside a karaoke restaurant he squeezed her hand back and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Smiling sweetly he replied, “Of course! Trust me they’ll find you just as wonderful as I do.” She smiled back. “Okay then I’m ready.” 

Walking in they were greeted into a karaoke room they were immediately greeted by Izuku’s classmates. “Hey Izuku! This must be Yukino! Hi, it's nice to meet you. I'm Uraraka Ochako but you can just call me Ochako!” “Hi I’m Ashido Mina but you can call me Mina.” 

Y/N blushed at the sudden attention taking in the whole room as the group all looked at her. 

“I’m L/N Y/N, you all can call me Y/N.” The girl bowed to the group with a smile. With that the rest of the group was introduced which consisted of Kaminari, Kirishima, Jiro, Iida, Todoroki, Momo, and surprisingly Bakugou too.

After karaoking for a bit the group settled down around the table and started eating. “Wow Y/N you’re really good at singing! You’re quirk wouldn’t happen to be anything with music would it?” Y/N chuckled at the compliment.“Actually no but thank you for the compliment, Jiro, was it?” 

Jiro nodded.  “So Y/N, if you don’t mind me asking what is your quirk?” Asked Momo with Kirishima chiming in. “Yeah Deku never mentioned you having a quirk did he?” They all nodded recalling the green haired boy never mentioning it and said green haired boy thinking back on how her having a quirk never came up, now looking back at Y/N in curiosity. 

Contemplating decided to somewhat twist the truth. “I was actually born without a quirk.” Everybody looked at the girl in shock and she put on a nervous smile. “Yeah I’m one of the 20% who got unlucky…” Nobody uttered a word making Y/N feel small under their gaze and stirring up unwanted memories of her past. “I’d get it if you guys don’t want to be around a quirkless person like me…” 

Realizing the misunderstanding, Izuku gripped her hand and gave her a reassuring smile. “That’s not it at all. We’re just surprised is all, right guys?” The majority nodded their heads frantically, while the others being Bakugo and Todoroki quietly looking at her in agreement. “Yeah we’re sorry for causing you to think like that. Just with the way you hold yourself I’m surprised you don’t have a quirk,” said Ochako as she put her hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Right! You’re still really cool regardless of quirk or no quirk!” piped MIna. “Thanks guys. Anyways it was really nice meeting you all but I should start heading home.” “I’ll walk you out!” With that Y/N bid farewell to the group and left the room making her way with Izuku right behind. 

Walking out the restaurant the duo was now bidding good bye to each other. “I’m sorry about my friends had I known I would have told them not to have asked about your quirk.” “That’s okay you couldn’t have known.” They stood in front of one another awkwardly. “Y/N?” “Yeah?” 

Y/N looked up at Izuku as he went on to grasp her hands in his, looking at her with intensity . “I hope you know regardless of where we stand in terms of having quirk or no quirk, I still really like you!” “Y-you like me?” A blush now adorned both the teens' faces but Izuku’s gaze didn’t waver in intensity from hers. He gripped her hands firmer in his and responded with an, “I do”. 

“I like you too.” Despite the confession and expecting to be happy, Y/N was instead filled with guilt for having led the boy on and now conflicted on what to do. ‘I got way to caught up in all of this that in the process I gained feelings for a boy who meant nothing but well.’ 

“Would you want to go on a date with me?”  Izuku looked at her expecting to say yes, oblivious to the sadness in her eyes as hearing she liked him back was all he needed to know. “Y/N?” “I’m sorry but I can’t.” 

“You can’t?” Izuku looked at her heartbroken. “No. I think it’s also for the best that we put our friendship to an end here.” As Y/N tried to walk hurriedly away, Izuku gripped her arm. “Hey if we can’t date that’s okay, I can wait. But there’s no reason to end our friendship too.” Tearing up, Y/N pulled away. “I’m sorry. I know it came from nowhere, but it’s for the best, trust me. You don’t want to get involved with me anymore than you already have. You don’t deserve that.” “What are you talking about? Since I met you, all I've wanted to do was get to know you more and fall for you even more.” “As much as I wish I could’ve gotten to know you more too, in the end, all I can hope now is you won’t hate me.” “Why would I hate you? I don’t care if you’re quirkless! If anything that just makes us even more alike!”

Y/N looked at him in disbelief and confusion. “Alike?! We couldn’t be any more different! You’re a hero in the making and by the looks of it probably one of the best. You can’t possibly understand what I’ve been through. In a world of heroes being quirkless is one of the worst things you could possibly be. There’s never a day I wasn’t degraded and bullied for being quirkless so you saying we’re alike is unbelievable!” Y/N was now fuming at the boy for saying such nonsense.

“That’s not what I meant! What I meant was-” Izuku quickly shut his mouth realizing what he was just about to confess. As much as he wanted to tell her that he too was once quirkless he couldn’t as it wasn’t just his secret but also All Mights. He couldn’t risk putting anyone in danger in case word happened to get out about it. “You meant what?” “...” “That’s what I thought. You can’t understand. Good bye Deku.” 

With that the girl pulled away and ran opposite of the boy, leaving Izuku in tears. 

…

“There’s no way it could’ve been her! She would never be with the league of villains! She doesn’t even have a quirk.” The boy exclaimed in disbelief to his master’s words. “You my boy at one point didn’t have a quirk remember? For now we can’t know for sure young Midoriya, that’s why we can only do it with your help.” The green haired looked defeated as he glimpsed at the photo caught at a crime scene showing a female with a mask and H/C cascading down the sides of her face. He didn’t want to believe it but that villain looked too much like her. “All right, All Might, I’ll do it.”

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads

The Winter Knight

slow-building urban fantasy mystery

reincarnated arthurian legends living in modern Vancouver

follows a gay autistic college student who’s the reincarnation of sir gawain who just wants to live a normal life

and a 30-something valkyrie woman

when a knight is murdered, she’s assigned to investigate, and he’s pulled into things after finding the body

m/m and pre-f/f (she is bi ace)

[sysig]

Oh heck yeah

So y’know how how every Sim made as an adult starts out with the generic “Mystery Sim” as their teenage love?

(Which I mean. Is fine. Personally I’d prefer nothing but it’s not bad as such lol)

Well I finally dug around in the SimPE memory tab to see what I could mess with without - hopefully - breaking anything this time, and well :3

Hehe ♪

And as further proof that that wasn’t just him getting rejected after I put them on the lot (though “Very First Kiss” is only a teen option and I made them both as adults) -

I modified his very first memory to be meeting Dex!

I also gave him this very rare memory of being attracted to Dex for funsies hehe ♥

[the-cinnamon-snail]

I look too much like both of my parents and act too much like them as well.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

his birthday means that we are g.ladio posting like hell today

[goodknifeboy]

I know there are a lot of fanfics about Jason being caught by the Justice League and usually getting bailed out by the batfam, but imagine if it was Brucie Wayne bailing him out:

In the JL interrogation room:

Superman: Alright, Red Hood, who is your supplier helping you move drugs in Star City?

Red Hood, who was undercover investigating a drug ring and got caught in a JL bust and sesnses an opportunity to mess with Batman: Look, I know you guys aren't cops, but can I get at least get one phone call?

Justice league looking skeptical?

Red Hood: You can even monitor it.

Green Arrow: Fine one phone call, but it will be monitored.

Hands Hood a phone

Red Hood: Hey Dad, I got stopped by the Justice League. Could you come bail me out? Really, okay, see you soon. Okay, my Dad said that he would bail me, so could we go over to the teleporters?

Green Arrow: Okay, firstly, we aren't cops, you can't just post bail and get out. Secondly, how would this "Dad" get up here?

Red Hood: You'll see.

Minutes later, Brucie Wayne walks in with a trail of Heroes, trying to explain why he cannot be at the Watchtower.

Superman: Mr. Wayne what are you doing here and how did you get here?

Bruce laying the Brucie persona on thick: Well as one of the Justice League's biggest doners and tech suppliers I have access to the teleporters, as for why I'm here it's to bail out my son. Hi Jaylad!

Red Hood fully expecting Batman: What?

Green Arrow remembering his friend's grief over loosing Jason: Ummmm, Mr. Wayne this is the Red Hood. You know "Bag full of severed heads" Red Hood.

Brucie: Yes, I know he's had some issues with his big feelings, but he's still my sweet little boy.

Superman: And you think that he's your late son Jason Todd?

Brucie: Yes, Batman even confirmed it was him. It turns out that after he died, he was brought back by an organization that planned on using him as a weapon against Batman. But he left them and has been working to improve Crime Alley, I'm so proud of him.

Green Arrow: We caught him in Star City with Drug runners.

Brucie: I'm sure he has a good explanation, don’t you Jaylad?

Red Hood still reeling from Bruce showing up as Brucie and not Batman: I was undercover?

Brucie: See perfectly reasonable, now can I please have my baby boy back? Alfred will be so upset if he's not home for dinner.

Surprisingly, this works , the Justice League is to stunned by this revelation and later confirm this with Batman that yes, the notorious Red Hood is the son of Billionaire, philanthropist airhead Brucie Wayne. Jason, meanwhile, has suffered a huge blow to his cred in the Hero community because of the association with Brucie instead of the Batfam. The bat siblings do not let this go anytime soon.

[erwinsvow]

GOT WHAT YOU WANTED

summary: you're rafe's best friend—kelce and top's too, but there's always been something more between the two of you. neither of you will do anything about it. clearly, the solution is to become friends with benefits.

now spinning: too many nights by metro & future

word count: 11.5k

warning/tags: kook trio reader, using jj to make rafe jealous, mentions of drugs/partying, jealous/possessive rafe and reader, smut !, rafe deals coke. tysm to @zyafics for beta’ing & helping me so muchh & @inimamea for being so lovely and supportive. tysm to all the lovely anons who have been supporting and loving this concept from the start, i hope u all love this ♡ (but sorry in advance if u don’t)

truth be told, you didn’t like making rafe angry. 

it wasn’t fun for you, like other things were—watching your boys play golf while you lounged in the cart with the cold drinks, picking out a pretty outfit for the day, crashing on the couch at tannyhill with your head in rafe’s lap and feet over kelce’s legs. 

those were fun things. what you were doing now, with jj, was something borne of necessity. you’re not a mean girl. you find it tough to be mean to anyone except rafe, actually, and only because he dishes it back and you know his feelings aren’t really hurt, but right now you were being mean.

to jj that is. 

you smile at the blond boy seated next to you, the golden glow of the bonfire casting its warmth onto both of you. you laugh at another joke he makes, but only half-hearted, taking another sip of the beer he’d gotten you from the keg.

jj’s funny, he’s sweet too. it’s not his fault you wish you were seated next to your best friend instead of him, drinking a strawberry seltzer from the case that rafe keeps in the back of his truck specially for you. 

“so?” jj asks, and you turn from staring at your shoes to look up at him. he’s looking at you with a smile, a very charming smile that you could have a lot of fun with, except you’re starting to feel bad about toying with him like this. 

“so?” you repeat back, softly. he leans in a little to hear you. you feel a little warm at the action, but it could just as easily be from the fire. 

jj’s nice—and you’ve always liked nice, preferred it to almost anything. every boy you had ever introduced to your trio had been nice, though rafe hadn’t ever cared. he’d hated them from the moment he’d laid eyes on them. you wonder now when you let him seep into your mind like this, with every other thought about rafe rafe rafe. somewhere in between accepting jj’s invitation to come to the bonfire with him and getting jealous over the fact that rafe was seeing some random girl.

“you didn’t tell your other boy about this, did’ya?” you look up at jj with eyebrows knitted, puzzled.

“other.. boy?”

“cameron.” now you really flush—you certainly don’t want jj to think rafe is your other anything.

“no, no. we’re not dating. we’re just friends.”

“right, okay. you tell him about tonight?”

“no. it didn’t come up.”

“ah. got it.”

“why?” you ask, and before you can look around, jj stares into the distance, gesturing with his eyes to a blurry figure.

“nothin’. he’s just been starin’ at us since we sat down, so i figured, but-” you stand up, looking into the distance where rafe was. you can feel yourself turning green with envy, red with rage, watching him stand next to the same girl he’s been with, her looking at rafe while rafe looks at you.

you sit back down on the log, wrapping a hand around jj’s arm and pulling him down to sit beside you. from this angle, rafe can’t make out anything but your backs, and maybe the lack of any real distance between you and jj.

“sorry,” you say, sweetly, almost having regained your wrath the second you saw the two of them standing together. “he’s crazy.”

“s’okay. not news to me, princess.” jj takes a pause, and you chew your cheek, trying to decide how far you were willing to take this. “you okay?”

“yes. why wouldn’t i be?”

“well, uh, it doesn’t take a genius. even though, y’know, i am one, to know somethin’s up.” “no, jj, i promise, we’re ju-” “just friends, yeah, i got it. i mean, i don’t know what type of friends exactly, but uh, i like you. and i’ll like you even if he has a problem with it. so up to you, really.” you glance up at jj, who is being nicer to you right now than you deserve. 

and you hate it, hate every second of it. you hate how rafe makes you feel, how angry and jealous you get, the fact that you even started talking to jj when in the back of your mind you knew it was because rafe would get upset over it.

but you also hate what rafe’s doing, the girl he’s with and the way he’s with her, the fact that he brought her here and still won’t stop shooting daggers into jj’s head. in short, you hate all of it. 

you lean in, resting your head against jj’s shoulder. 

“i’m sorry. i don’t know what’s going on with him. but, he’s here with a girl.”

“and you’re here with me.” jj wraps an arm around you. 

“yes, but not because-well, i don’t know.” it feels stupid coming out, but if jj thinks that, he doesn’t show any signs of it.

“s’okay. don’t always have to know.” you keep your head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth he brings. “by the way, he’s still watching.” you smile, though you can’t tell which boy elicited it. “i mean, not gonna complain if i get to be your boy toy for a little but, nice to know you care-” you giggle, pulling away to put your drink on the sandy ground.

“you’re telling me you don’t want a sugar mama?” he laughs at your words and you relish in it. 

it could be picture perfect—waves crashing in the back, the fire flickering in front of you, stars sparkling above. jj keeps his hand on your cheek and leans in for a kiss, and you find yourself leaning too, when the voice of your best friend breaks the silence. you pull away from jj to look up at rafe standing behind you.

“hey. we’re goin’. c’mon.”

“rafe-” you start, but you get interrupted. jj stands, facing rafe.

“hey buddy, we’re a little busy. but uh, i’ll make sure she gets home safe-”

“guys-”

“wasn’t fuckin’ talkin’ to you, pogue-”

“tuck her into bed, and everything. don’t worry your little head ‘bout it-”

“m’gonna knock your little head out if you don’t get the fuck away from-” having heard enough, you drag rafe away by his arm, your pretty nails digging in harshly.

“what the fuck was that, rafe?” you ask, though you feel the bitterness coursing through your veins. how’s that fair—that he parades his girlfriend around you, at the club and here at the bonfire, but you can’t so much as spend a moment alone with jj. 

whatever reservations you had just held about using jj to make rafe jealous seem to have gone far away. instead you’re just angry—he wants his own girlfriend and he wants you without a boyfriend too. you turn to look back at the boy you left behind at the fire. jj gives you a thumbs up.

“how many times do i have to fuckin’ tell you to-to stay away from that pogue-”

“he has a name,” you counter, so defensive because jj was being nice to you even when he didn’t have to be, helping you even with no gain for himself. “and you can’t order me around, okay? you brought a girl here but i can’t talk to jayj? how does that make any sense?”

“stop yellin’,” he barks, grabbing you by the arm now, and guiding you away.

“why? afraid someone might hear us? like your little girlfriend? where’d she go, by the way, i bet she’s missing you right about now-”

“shut up. shut it.” you don’t realize how far rafe’s dragged you until you shake out of his tight grip, standing next to his truck on the street.

“i’m sick of this rafe.” it comes out quieter than you intend, tears prickling up. you hate crying, especially infront of the boys but even more so infront of rafe. “i’m not stopping my life and boys that i wanna see, and relationships i want to have because you’re not okay with it. not when you have your own girlfriend. it’s not fair.” 

“i don’t. i don’t have a girlfriend.” you roll your eyes, he watches it happen with a tight fist, jaw clenching.

“yes, you do.”

“no, i don’t.”

“you don’t?” you question, unbelieving. “you just.. walk around with the same girl for weeks. take her everywhere. but she’s not your girlfriend?” you’re snarky like always—you still don’t know if he likes it or not.

“no, she’s not.” 

“bullshit. at least get your fucking story straight, rafe. that girl’s probably half in love with you-” “m’not dating her. and if it bothered you so much how come you didn’t say something, huh? you pull this shit with fuckin’ maybank instead?”

“i’m not pulling anything with jj.” you lie through your teeth, hoping rafe bites. “i-i like him.”

“no you fuckin’ don’t.”

“who are you to tell me-”

“you don’t like him. what you like is makin’ me fuckin’ angry. well, it worked. stay the fuck away from him. and get in the goddamn truck.”

you groan loudly, the noise almost a scream and filling the quiet street. but you comply, getting into the passenger seat and letting rafe drive you home—to your house, not tannyhill like every other night. when he pulls up to your house, you resist the urge to get out without saying anything at all.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, kid.” you sigh, looking back up at rafe.

“that’s it? you’ll see me tomorrow?”

“what else do you want me to say, huh?”

“are you just gonna ignore all of that? what the hell was that?”

“m’not ignoring anything-”

“so, i can’t see jj anymore. are you still seeing her? who am i allowed to date then? kelce? top? do you have a pre-approved list for me?”

“shut up.”

“rafe,” you sound serious, as serious as he’s ever heard you, shifting in your seat to look right at him. he looks back, his knuckles white on the steering wheel at the mention of you dating kelce or top or anyone. “i’m not gonna stay single forever. i know your alpha-male tendencies don’t agree with it, but girls have needs too. i want-”

“what? what do you want?”

“the possibility of getting laid without you screaming at every boy i talk to would be nice.”

“don’t talk like that.”

“rafe.” 

exasperated, you unlock the door and climb out, not turning back to say goodnight. the last twelve hours seem like a blur, between texting jj and actually seeing him and rafe’s reaction to it. you’re not sure what kind of reaction you really wanted out of him, but you’re not happy with the one you got. you don’t know what, if anything, would have pleased you. 

that night, you go to bed angry and wake up sad. jj texted you something but you can’t find the heart to look at his message yet. 

you’re sure the boys have something planned for today, like they always do, but the idea of opening the groupchat to look at what they decided on makes you feel sick. so you stay home instead, showering off yesterday’s anger and wondering why rafe thinks you don’t deserve to have a boy in your life to fool around with, to date, to do anything with. 

the answer, sharp and painful like the jagged end of a piece of glass, hovers in your mind. you try to push it away.

rafe’s wrong—like always. you really don’t like making him angry, like it even less that your routine is disrupted and that for the first time in a long time, you don’t want to see your best friends today. brushing your hair, the sound of your bedroom door opening snaps you out of your thoughts.

“c’mon kid. get dressed. top’s got tee time at two and we booked lunch before.” you turn to look at rafe but don’t budge. he takes a look at you—dressed in one of his old frat shirts and plaid shorts that barely peak out. 

you look pretty all the time but it feels the worst, the hardest to deal with, when it’s just the two of you alone like this, none of the shit that you do for other people, for outside the house—the makeup, the hair, the nice clothes. when you’re pretty like this it’s just for him, since no one else gets to see you, no one but him. you probably didn’t even notice you were wearing one of his shirts—something that leaves him feeling more pleased than he should be. but like always, he’s not gonna tell you any of that.

“are you adding deaf to stupid?” he asks, and you roll your eyes, letting out an irritated huff.

“i’m not coming. go away.” you turn around on your vanity chair to face your mirror, continuing brushing your hair. rafe walks up behind you, staring at you in the mirror.

“c’mon. lunch is at the place you like. i’ll even talk to you when kelce and top are up.”

“is that your way of apologizing?”

“it’s not an apology.”

“of course it’s not. why would you say sorry? you probably don’t think you did anything wrong.”

“i didn’t.”

“mm-hm. when does rafe cameron ever do anything wrong?” you keep brushing your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror instead of at him. “psycho.”

rafe yanks the brush from your hand, spinning your chair around to face him. he boxes you in, his hands resting on the armrests. he’s too close to you, it makes his head spin. you wish he’d stop, you know he’s not going to. you watch with bated breath, wondering what’s coming next.

“i… didn’t mean to make you upset.” you keep staring up at rafe, blinking fast. “and i didn’t see it from your side. so, m’sorry. about that part. nothin’ else.” you can’t help the slow smile that grows on your face—rafe, apologizing, and to you of all people. you thought you’d never see the day.

“thanks rafe.”

“alright. get ready. truck’s still runnin’.” he pulls himself upright, freeing you of the restraint. you can hear the bass of the music in his car, the future song audible from your open window. 

“that’s bad for the environment. and i didn’t say i forgave you.” snatching the hairbrush back, you resume your motions. you hear rafe groan and it’s hard to hold back the smile. maybe you did like making him angry.

“kid.” 

“what? i heard your apology, and i don’t accept it. hope you girls have fun at golf-” rafe leans back in, holding your jaw shut between his fingers.

“do you ever shut up?” you shake your head from your position, though you can’t really move. “what’s it gonna take, huh? you want my permission to fuck ‘round? sleep with some, some fuckin’ nobody? some pogue? tough shit. you’re not gettin’ it.” he lets you go, and you rub your jaw tenderly.

“but you get to do it?” 

“that’s different-”

“no it’s not! you’re just a dick. and sexist. who am i supposed to sleep with, then?” you shoot back.

“i don’t fuckin’ know, kid. me, i guess. at this point-”

“ha-ha funny. you’re an-” when you finally get up and look at him, he’s staring at you. “what?”

“yeah. that’s fine.” he shrugs, like he’s just decided something trivial, like what to order at lunch or which iron to use. “you can sleep with me.”

“excuse me?”

“yeah. yeah, it’s a good solution. that way you can stay the fuck away from maybank and any other asshole.”

“rafe. shut up.”

“think about it,” he says, and you fall silent to listen, though this is the worst idea  you’ve ever heard in your life. “you get what you want. i get what i want. it works out.”

“how is being your pity-fuck remotely close to what i want?”

“sheesh, kid m’tryna help you right now. offerin’ you a solution-”

“rafe?” “yeah?”

“get out.” you walk over the door, swining it open and waiting for him to step out.

“just think ‘bout it,” rafe says, standing by the door but not leaving just yet. “alright?”

“goodbye, rafe.” 

you listen to the sounds—him walking down the staircase, the front door closing, his truck taking off. after you’re sure he’s gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding inside.

sleeping with rafe had been nothing more than a drunken thought that occasionally slipped into your mind when he’d be nice to you after some party. curling up next to him at tannyhill every other night certainly didn’t help, but that’s all it was—a thought, not reality. 

then you wonder if it’s really such a bad idea. maybe if you just got out all of this pent up energy with rafe, and then worked on finding someone he actually approved of, it would be easier for both of you. 

key word: maybe.

the idea that he’s still seeing that girl, the one he keeps denying is his girlfriend, makes you want to puke. he’d have to stop that, that would be part of your agreement. 

maybe rafe’s right, maybe you both get what you want out of this, as messed up as it seems. it can’t be the worst idea in the world—kelce and top always joke the two of you are half a couple already.

you go to your closet to pick out an outfit for golf, hoping you weren’t about to ruin your friendship with your best friend.

.☘︎ ݁˖

rafe’s leaning against the bar at the club when you find him. you think he’s got a weird sixth sense, he always knows when you’re around, and he looks up before you’re even near him. 

“i knew you wouldn’t pass on lunch. top owes me five bucks.”

“yeah. sure.” you put a hand on the counter to steady yourself—this is harder than you thought it would be. rafe takes a sip of his drink. you want to chastise him, tell him it’s only twelve-thirty and too early for drinking, but nothing comes out. your mouth feels dry and you almost want to chug the rest of his scotch. surprisingly, you refrain.

“what?” rafe asks, and you glance up at him, eyes locked.

“i thought about what you said this morning. what you offered.”

“and?” the bastard looks so smug. you should the slap the smirk off his face but you know what he’s thinking—proud of coming up with the idea himself, thinking he’s doing such a service.

“and.. better the devil you know and all that.” you wait for the other shoe to drop for a moment, for rafe to admit it was all a big prank and you fell for it, and now the boys owe him money or something.

“good. i agree. so should we get outta here, or what?”

“right now?” you question, eyes widening. “what about tee time?”

“you’re the only who’s so horny you’re on the verge of jumping pogues. m’just tryna help you-”

“shut up!”your face heats, looking around to make sure no one heard him. “by the way, between the two of us you’re the only one jumping pogues.”

“yeah, yeah. so not now, then?”

“a gentlemen as always, rafe. no, really, thank you, for showing me chivalry’s not dead.” you roll your eyes again, staring ahead at the bottles behind the bar. you don’t want to turn and look at rafe again, but you do.

“at this rate m’gonna have to show you what friends with benefits means too.”

“shut up.” it comes out like a hiss this time, narrowed eyes focusing in on your best friend and apparently, new fuck buddy.

“yeah, yeah. they’re at the table near the window.” 

“thanks.” you walk in that direction, catching a glimpse of top and kelce, but your feet pause for a moment. you stay still, but glance back at rafe.

he’s not leaning against the bar anymore—he’s facing you, staring at you. blue eyes rake over your skin top to bottom, focusing on the pretty sandals and polished white toes, smooth lotioned skin, your short white skirt and tight golf shirt, with one too many buttons popped. 

when you’re talking without ever shutting up, it’s hard for him to focus on anything but your glossy lips or long eyelashes fluttering when you roll your eyes. but now he’s taking it in—how easily you agreed to this little idea, how you talk a big game but you don’t seem as hesitant or upset as you were this morning. 

you turn back and keep walking towards the table—rafe can tell you’re flushed. he’s fine with it, prefers it this way. anything’s better than you going on dates with strangers, showing them looks and emotions and other things that belong to him.

if you’re horny, all you had to do was tell him. downing the rest of his drink, he goes back to the table and like always, sits next to you. 

kelce and top talk about the same old shit, until they focus their attention on you. you’re being quiet, not nearly as talkative or snippy as usual, and you haven’t said a word to rafe the whole time.

“and where’d you two go off to last night?” kelce asks, pointedly looking at rafe while he asks you the question.

“you guys know you left us stranded, right? we all came together. i mean i’m not saying self-absorbed but-” topper adds, but you cut him off.

“you’re really not one to talk about self-absorbed, are you top?” you shoot back, and kelce chokes on his water. 

“easy,” rafe says, and normally you’d fire away something at him too, but this time you don’t. “we had somethin’ to take care of. but you got home didn’t you?”

“yes, but-” topper says, but rafe cuts him off again. you hold back a laugh.

“then shut up ‘bout it.”

“kelce’s mom had to pick us up. it was humiliating.” you snort into your lemonade, all four of you bursting into laughter. you turn to ask kelce a follow up question, and rafe’s staring at you while you laugh. something low in your stomach twists, like a butterfly trying to fly out and away.

when kelce and rafe start talking about the course today, topper leans in to say something to you.

“you’re getting mean. y’know that means you’re spending too much time with him.” you transfer your gaze from top to rafe, staring at the boy next to you. 

the idea of what you would normally say floats through your head—something funny and earnest but still making top feel better, not saying sorry but making him laugh instead. nothing comes to mind.

“yeah. i guess i am.”

you sit through golf, reading your book in the cart while the boys play nine holes. your phone rings with a call from your parents about an hour in, and when you step away to take it, rafe follows you. the boys protest from the distance—it must have been his turn.

“you goin’ home?” rafe questions, and you jolt at the sound, not realizing he was right behind you.

“god. you scared me.” he doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring down at you. “yes, uh, mom wants me home for something.”

“you need a ride?”

��no, i drove here, remember?” 

“oh. yeah. am i gonna see you tonight?” the words make you flush—stupidly, no matter how hard you try to fight it, knowing that they shouldn’t. the two of you are going to be terrible at this. “kid?”

“careful, rafe. you’re starting to sound like a boyfriend.” “yeah. and we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” 

sucking in a breath, tearing your gaze away with pretty blue eyes that are looking at you like maybe that wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world, you’re at a loss for words again. before all of this drama, you could count the amount of times you had been rendered speechless by rafe with no hands—since it had never happened. still with nothing to say, you turn around and start to walk away. foot steps follow you.

“hey, hey. m’joking, it’s just.. a joke. how about i come over later? and we’ll talk about it.” you spin on your heels to face him.

“talk about it? talk about what?”

“our.. arrangement. y’know talk about it..” he tilts his head stupidly and you can’t decide if you want to slap him or kiss him. “..fuck about it.”

“okay! that’s it. bye, rafe.” storming away, you almost wish you hadn’t heard what he called out after you.

“bye, kid. i’ll see you later.”

.☘︎ ݁˖

at ten pm that night, freshly showered and somehow in another one of rafe’s shirts, you were back to where you were this morning—brushing your hair. rafe doesn’t knock on your door, just barges in.

“oh my god-”

“hello to you too.” he steps in, shutting the door behind him and taking a seat on your bed. you spin on your chair to face him.

“how the hell do you keep getting in here?”

“what? your mom let me in.”

“you didn’t even text-”

“i told you at the club. you have selective memory, kid.” he looks you over again. “nice shirt.”

“oh shut up.” you turn away for a moment, setting the hairbrush down, biting your cheek. “so?”

“so?” he repeats. he’s smiling, you can just tell.

“aren’t we gonna talk about our arrangement? that’s what you told me at the club-” you finish in a mocking voice.

“what else is there to talk about? you wanna get laid, i don’t wanna see you with random guys.”

“i still don’t understand what’s wrong with the guys that i-” rafe cuts you off, and he sounds angry.

“of course you don’t understand. you don’t have’t think about this shit, because i think about it for you. what’d you gonna do when some guy starts sleepin’ with you ‘cause me and top pissed him off once? or one of those pogues, huh? to get back at us? take some video of you and send it to everyone? brag and show it off to everyone?”

“oh.”

“exactly. so m’lookin’ out for you. this is better, trust me.” the thing rafe’s saying are making sense. you were on board anyways, but you feel better that there’s a real reason behind it.

“but what about that girl-” you ask, though you don’t know what kind of answer you’re expecting. rafe sighs.

“what about that girl?”

“are-are you gonna sleep with other people too?”

“no. m’too busy anyways. works out for both of us.”

“oh. okay. promise?”

“when have i ever lied to you?” you sigh, about to protest, when he finishes his sentence. “promise.” you feel strangely reassured, like this is a good idea.

“okay. thanks.” you dodge his gaze, playing with your manicured nails, pink this time.

“alright. get on the bed.”

“rafe-”

“what? i just said-”

“you’re not even gonna, like, take me out for dinner first?”

“who the hell d’you think paid for your lunch?”

“i don’t know.. kelce? he got lunch last week. should i go sleep with him next?”

“ha-ha. get on the bed.”

“ugh. you’re so crass. i don’t even know how you get any girls-”

“yeah, yeah. are you gonna shut up now or what?”

you can’t think of anything to say, so you finally follow his instructions, crawling into your bed and sitting up against your pillows to look at rafe. 

you’ve see him naked before. he’s seen you naked before. with all the time you spent together on the druthers or at the beach, you should be used to seeing him like this. he yanks off his shirt, pulling it off with a fist in the back over his head. 

the first sign that this idea wasn’t going to go as planned should have been now—feeling your breath catch in your throat at the sight in front of you. your best friend shirtless, getting closer to your bed. your eyes rake over tan, muscled skin and the silver chain glimmering around his neck. you don’t realize you moved, body sliding down and back flat against your mattress while rafe starts to lean across the bed, his hand planted next to your head.

rafe’s hovering over you. your breathing shakes for a moment, wondering if it would be this easy for him to do this with any other girl. you dismiss the thought when rafe leans in to kiss you, but it almost seems too wrong to let it happen.

“wait-” you move your head a little so your lips are away from rafe’s. “are you sure? you don’t think it’s gonna be weird?”

“stop bugging out, kid.” he says it low and quiet, and your entire body quivers from the sound.

“answer the question, asshole.” rafe laughs, his hot breath fanning across your cheek. you can’t help it, you laugh too, turning to look at him. you think he’ll be grinning like something’s funny, but your smile dies the second you lock eyes.

he’s not smiling, he looks as serious as you’ve ever seen him. he licks his lips, moving his eyes over your body, his shirt and your bare legs.

“you wearin’ anything under this?” 

he moves one of his hands from your knee to your thigh, stroking the soft skin. you curl your leg automatically, head lifting to watch his hands and your entire body trembling under his touch—it’s hot and electric, making your heart beat faster and the hairs on your arm stand up. he looks up from your legs to your face, watches you shake your head to answer no. 

“good girl.” 

your head falls back onto the pillow when the words leave his mouth. a chuckle leaves his mouth, but still he’s not smiling, it’s more just a noise of pleasure than anything else. rafe sits up between your legs, hands grabbing onto both of your legs and stroking again. he makes his way all the way to your hips, fingers dancing over the waistband of your panties. 

you think he’ll stop, maybe at least answer your earlier question, though you can’t remember what you had even asked him. he doesn’t, fingers swiftly hooking around the fabric and pulling them down your legs. you suck in another breath, angling your foot so they fall onto the bed while you keep your eyes locked on him.

“y’ready?” he asks, and you nod, though you’re not sure what you’re agreeing to. his hands go back to your thighs, pushing his t-shirt up to expose more skin. you tense up, but he keeps a palm on your knee. “relax.”

before you can anticipate anything else, he strokes your pussy, which is shamefully wet already, with two fingers, prodding the sensitive skin and gathering wetness. he does that laugh again, like he can’t believe what he’s looking at, and you try to shut your trembling thighs in embarassment, but rafe holds them open.

“rafe-” but before you can finish your sentence, two thick fingers plunge inside you, “oh my god—!” 

“hah. good.” when he pushes his fingers out, just to slam them back in, your eyes roll all the way back, another loud moan emitting from your mouth, sounds he’s thought about a hundred times before but still can’t compare to the real thing. but of course, you don’t need to know any of that. “don’t get too loud. y’folks are downstairs, remember?”

you don’t seem to remember. when he picks up the pace, really just wanting to test you and see how much you could take, you start moaning even louder, sweet breathy sounds filling the room. they’re just for him, and normally he’d want you screaming, but he can’t arouse too much suspicious, or your parents won’t ever let him back in the house. his other hand, the one holding your legs open, moves to your mouth, clamping his palm over your lips to keep your noises quiet.

you must like it, you clench around his fingers and your walls flutter when he locks eyes with you, almost hunched over you to keep you quiet while still fucking his fingers—now three, though he didn’t realize when he’d added another—into you. 

rafe’s hard, and he can’t remember the last time he was patient enough to wait to get his dick wet, but he likes you like this, not just shutting up for once, but eyes shut and face twisted with pleasure, whimpering into his hand, legs shaking in his grip while you’re wet around his fingers. 

“rafe-” you mumble, the sound all muffled. “m’gonna, ohh-” he picks up the pace, shushing you while battering into your pussy, listening to the gasps and whimpers through his palm while you cum all over his hand. 

limbs like jelly and throat dry, you lay there, catching your breath. your skin’s hot and flushed, and you stare at rafe while he stares at you.

“what?” you question, and it comes out quiet, soft, like you’ve done something you shouldn’t have. he’s thinking a couple of things, some of which have no business being in his head at all. do you always get this wet? who else has seen you like this? who’s gonna get to hear you moan the way you just did for him some day?

“nothin’.” 

“oh. okay.” you sit up against your headboard, pulling your—his—shirt down to cover up a little. “well, thank you.”

“yeah. no problem.” for a second he hestiates—briefly concerned you want him to leave now. “well? come on.” you’re trying to sound like you always do, a little irritated at him, a little snarky. he can see through it this time.

“what?” 

“get the condom. you’re the one who said we’re doing it today.” rafe watches for a second, wondering if he should laugh or yell at you, when you pull off his shirt. he stares at you, not moving, wondering why he thought this would be a good idea. 

he’s seen you naked before, changing in the same room or when you two lost all boundaries and started walking into bathrooms while the other’s showering, but this seems different. propped against your headboard naked, with your cum on his fingers, asking him to get a condom. now that he’s seen you like this, he has a new life mission of making sure no one else ever gets to. 

“god, you’re such a boy.”

“shut up.” 

“you shut up. you talked such a big game and now you’re just staring at my boobs-” he moves quickly, fingers on your jaw, actually shutting you up.

“lie down.” biting your lip, you comply, sliding down so rafe was on top of you. “spread your legs.” you move to do so, but rafe uses his hands on your thighs to pull them apart before you can. you can’t look at his face, it almost feels too weird, so you decide to stare at his dick instead, watching him roll the condom on with a puzzled face.

“what?” he’s been looking at your face the whole time.

“nothing. if i had known you were this big i would’ve asked a while ago-” rafe starts laughing, a real one this time, and you burst into giggles too.

“stop-” and he gets closer to you, lining himself up with your wet cunt, “-making me laugh. shut up.”

“you’ve said shut up like thirty times but you won’t stop talking eithe-oh!” he pushes in all at once, and all the breath leaves your lungs. you gasp instead, toes curling, feeling incredibly full, the disbelief that you’re full of rafe quickly fading away. 

you should have known he’d be good at this, good enough to actually get you to shut up. he starts a slow pace, thrusting in and out and you look up to see your best friend’s face contorted with pleasure, heavy breaths in your ears and the scent of his cologne overwhelming everything. his chain dangles on your neck, tickling you, and you try to permanently engrain the feeling into your memory.

you attempt to stay quiet, though the slam of the headboard against the wall is a dead giveaway. rafe pushes all the way out and then all the way back in with another slam, and there’s nothing you can do but take it, clamping your hand over your mouth now.

he manhandles your legs into place, pressing them to your chest while he continues the exhausting pace. you can’t discern anything but rafe’s quiet groans and heavy breaths. you’ve just cum but it doesn’t take long for that hot feeling to wind up again in your stomach, toes curling and eyes getting watery. your moans are still muffled, but the way rafe’s looking at you is only making them get louder. 

your bottom lip must be bleeding from the way your teeth have been abusing it. rafe moves your hand out of the way and leans in for a hot kiss, his tongue in your mouth and swallowing all of your noises.

with a final oh god, oh god, oh god, moaned into rafe’s mouth, you cum hard around his dick, eyes pressing shut and stray tears falling down, rafe’s lips not leaving yours. 

you don’t know why—but you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping the kiss going. rafe pulls away for a moment to breathe and you open your eyes, staring up at him through wet lashes, licking your swollen lips, while he looks back down at you.

he leans in for a final kiss, groaning into your mouth while he spills into the condom, still thrusting in and out of your sore pussy. 

rafe rolls off of you, resting on your sheets beside you. you try to catch your breath.

“you didn’t last very long.” 

“and how long did it take ya to cum all over my fingers?”

“oh, whatever. where’s my shirt?”

“it’s my shirt,” rafe says back, finding the discarded clothing on the ground and tossing it on your chest. you sit up, sliding his shirt back on. rafe’s standing, pulling on his shorts.

“are you leaving?” you ask, and you regret it the second it comes out, quiet and soft like you want him to stay. 

you do want him to stay, but you don’t want him to know that you do. it all feels very complicated and your thighs are aching, your throat dry. 

“no.” he sits back down next to you, swinging an arm over your shoulder like he always does. you lean into his chest. 

“you kissed me,” you say quietly. you’re glad your face is pressed into his side, you don’t think you could handle looking at his face right now. “and you were quiet. i didn’t expect that.”

“your parents are downstairs, remember?”

“oh. i forgot.” you realize after that you don’t want him to know he fucked you so hard you forgot where you were and who was home.

“is kissing off limits?” rafe asks, and you almost choke processing the sentence. things you never thought rafe would say to you.”

“no.. it was nice.” you pause, listening to the silence of the room and the thud of rafe’s chest in your ear. you’re no expert—though you fear you’re about to become one—but it seems faster than normal. “you want ice cream? or cookies? i made some yesterday.”

“no, kid. it’s fine.” you chew your cheek nervously. you want rafe to want to stay, not just because you asked.

“you can go.. if you need to.” you look up at him and then look back down when he meets your eyes. 

“why? got nowhere else to be.”

“oh. okay.”

“turn the tv on. we’ll watch your stupid movie”

“really?” your face lights up, grabbing the remote on your nightstand. you open up the blanket at the foot of the bed, covering both of you while you try to find you’ve got mail. you go back to your position and lean against rafe’s warm body, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. it’s not unusual, he’s done it before, but you don’t miss the fact that he’s decided to do it now. you try to push away the warm feeling blooming in your chest.

“don’t ever make a joke about sleeping with kelce or top again.”

.☘︎ ݁˖

your tired muscles wake up to the sun pouring into your bedroom. the light shines on rafe’s still-asleep figure, but you knew it wouldn’t wake him up, nothing ever does. you don’t remember falling asleep, barely remember anything after rafe showing up.

and the part where you slept with your best friend.

a guilt-trip dangles on the edge, about to take over, when you push it away and focus on the text messages on your phone instead.

top: rafe can’t believe u bailed on cod. u better be dead in a ditch somewhere

kelce: maybe princess finally killed him

top: stop hanging out without us

kelce: top lets just pull up next time

you laugh, and rafe stirs at the sound. you give his arm a shove.

“you ditched playing video games for me? i’m so flattered, rafey.” 

“shut up.” he grumbles. “go back to bed. s’too early for this shit.”

“it’s nine in the morning. and i have pilates in an hour.”

rafe turns over, and you can’t deny it’s nice to have him in your bed for once—it seems like you’re always sleeping at tannyhill.

“didn’t get enough exercise last night? you need more?”

you fake a yawn, covering your mouth.

“exercise? what exercise? i don’t remember that. you mean the boring sex?”

rafe sits up, facing you. you choke back a laugh.

“you wanna say that again?”

“uhh-”

“in fact, why don’t you try and get up? ten bucks says you can’t even walk to the door.”

“i can’t believe the two of us even fit on this bed with your gigantic ego-”

“don’t see you walking. m’waiting.” you toss one of your throw pillows at him.

“get out!”

“alright. i’ll say good morning to your parents on my way-”

“okay! wait, stay.”

“s’what i thought.”

“some way to say good morning,” you mumble, scrolling through your other messages—a text from your other friends about a party tomorrow and a reminder for your pilates class.

“you woke me up.” 

“oh whatever. i was just surprised you skipped a video game for this. but i guess most boys would.”

“there’s not much i wouldn’t skip for you.” you smile at rafe, misunderstanding him.

“that’s so nice. are you saying i’m a great lay?” he rolls his eyes.

“i’m trying to- shut up. what’d they say?” he picks up his phone. 

about twenty minutes later, after checking the hallway (and that too on wobbly legs, just like the smug idiot had predicted) rafe leaves. like always, he says he’ll see you later.

you fall on your bed and dwell on the fact that rafe kissed you last night. it’s hard to focus on anything else, and with every passing second, you think this whole thing was a worse and worse idea.

but he doesn’t seem to think that way. he seemed fine. he’s better at the no-strings-attached thing than you, and you don’t think he would have suggested it if he didn’t think you could handle it. 

with that thought lingering, you get dressed for pilates and hope it’s easier to walk before you see the boys again. you find out that it’s really not. 

after your class, you check your phone, finding messages from top and kelce. game night and pizza at kelce’s house. you’re invited, of course, but you shoot them a message saying you’re staying home with your parents instead. 

the second you press send, rafe’s contact photo lights up your screen.

“rafe?” you answer it without even waiting.

“what, not comin’ tonight? you always come.”

“oh, um-” you pace around your room, trying to think of a lie on your feet. “mom and dad wanted to stay in. you know. game night.” the words feel stupid, though you hope he’ll believe it.

“okay. you gonna swing ‘round after?”

“no, probably not. um, i’ll see you tomorrow?”

“yeah, tomorrow. have fun, kid.”

“you too. tell them i say hi.”

the rest of your day flies by and it’s not long before you’re curling up in bed with a tub of ice cream. your parents went out to dinner with some friends, while you contemplated what the hell you were doing with your own friends.

you four always had a standing date on saturday mornings in the summer—snacks and a spin on the boat. if you don’t go, it’s going to be incredibly obvious something was going on with you. 

you call topper while you pack your boat bag—grabbing the necessities the boys always completely forget about; spray sunscreen, an extra baseball cap, a book for you when you inevitably get bored of listening to them talk.

“what’s up?” top says, and you’ve made your way into the kitchen, pulling out fruit to wash and cut.

“what time are we going on the boat? and i’m bringing strawberries and mangoes, is that fine?” topper is the pickiest when it comes to the fruit—kelce and rafe will eat whatever you bring.

“uh, i think noon. call rafe, we’re taking the druthers today.” crap. that’s what you were trying to avoid. it feels crazy the second you think it—trying to avoid rafe. you need to get it together. acting like some love sick girl over your best friend feels like the stupidest thing you’ve ever tried to do. he must bring it out in you. “do you have any of those oranges? the little ones?”

“i’ll bring ‘em. listen, i need to get ready, do you know the time? i’ll just meet you there.” your self-realization is going to have to wait for another day.

“noon, yeah. i’ll text it.”

“thanks top.” 

you start an internal monologue on repeat—stop being weird about it. he’s still your best friend. be normal. he is not your boyfriend. you repeat it, but still pick out the prettiest bikini you own, yellow gingham and held together entirely by straps you’ve tied into pretty bows. you throw on one of the boys’ button-ups that’s ended up in your closet somehow on top. 

walking onto the pier, you hesitate in front of the druthers. you don’t hear any of the boys, and though nothing’s stopped you from getting on and making yourself comfortable, you wait for a second.

it’s like he knows. rafe steps out from the bridge, and takes one look at you, eyes flicking up and down your body and taking in the yellow fabric that’s barely covering anything, before offering you his hand to get on. 

“hey.”

“hey.” you look around. “nice weather.”

“yeah.”

“kelce and top running late? he told me noon.”

“those two are always late.” he’s staring at you, and this time it becomes clear, that he’s looking at you the way a boy who has been inside of you looks at you.

“i packed mangoes. you liked them last time.”

“yeah, i did.”

“i just hope they’re sweet.”

“yeah. they probably are. sweet.” rafe keeps looking, and you turn around to set your bag down. “listen, kid-”

“it’s a great day. good weather.” 

“you already said that.”

“oh.”

“would you stop and look at me?”

“no, um,” you start, emptying out your bag onto one of the seats. “sorry, i’m busy.” you feel rafe grab your shoulder, turning you around. he’s not as rough as he could be, like he usually is.

“you okay?” he asks, and you feel stupid.

“i’m fine.. are you okay?”

“yeah. but you’re actin’ weird.”

“well yeah, rafe. we slept together. it’s weird.”

“you were on board-”

“i was. i am,” you clarify. surprising even to yourself, you think you still are. “doesn’t make it not weird. imagine if you and kelce slept together. wouldn’t it be weird?” rafe’s face twists into a mixture of disgust and concern. “okay. bad example. sorry.”

“yeah. m’just saying, i wanna make sure you’re okay. but i don’t regret it if that’s what you’re afraid of. and nothin’ has to change.” hearing him say it makes you feel better. you repeat the words, tasting the feel of it on your tongue.

“right. nothing’s changed. you’re still rafe. i’m still me.”

“it doesn’t have to happen again, if you don’t want it to.” you stare up at him with crossed arms.

“why are you being so nice about it?”

“jeez, kid. what, you-you want me to be a dick ‘bout it? sounds like you’d prefer that.”

“no, just. it’s weird when you’re nice.” you look at him for a second before the two of you start laughing. “y’know what i mean.”

“alright. i’ll stop being nice.”

“thank you. now where are these two? i wanna read my book.”

“probably still sleepin’. played until-” rafe keeps talking, but you realize you’re only half paying attention. he takes his shirt off, and at the very sight of his chain sparkling in the sun, you realize you’re no better than the girls who chase after him. “what?”

“hm?” a little dazed, you look up from his abs to his face.

“you’re starin’.”

“oh. you think we have enough time before they show up?”

“time for what?” rafe stares at you while you stare at him. “oh.”

turns out he thought you did have enough time. you end up with your cheek pressed against the tan sofa in the cabin, body folded with your head down and ass up. rafe’s slamming into you from behind, and though it’s only the second time with him, you think there’s no pleasure in the world comparable.

from this angle he feels even bigger than yesterday. you feel tighter, or maybe it’s just the way your cunt is sucking him in, he thinks, thrusting in and out with his hands grabbing the fat of your ass, watching it bounce with every one of his motions. he has an urge to untie your bikini top, just so he can look at the expanse of the bare skin of your back, but he knows you’ll fuss if he does. he settles for shoving the thin yellow fabric of your bottoms to the side, yanking it so hard that you’re scared it’ll rip.

“be—oh—careful,” you get out in between moans, louder than the first time and louder still than he thought you’d be. he likes it more than he should. you already came once, but he wants to see if he can get another out of you.

“shut up,” rafe groans, eyes fixated on your perky ass, the one he’s stared at in hundreds of short dresses and tiny skirts, bikinis that he shouldn’t let you wear and panties he gets an eyeful of when you’re asleep in his bed. “jus’ take it-”

you keep moaning against the couch, head shoved in to muffle what you can, but it’s when you look back at him, turning your head to watch rafe slam into you with wet, lustful eyes, tired from how hard he had just made you cum, that he really can’t take it, finishing hard and fast while you let out pretty mewls that are still ringing in his ear. 

he pulls out, adjusting your bikini bottoms to cover you up, though there’s visible wetness staining them. your inner thighs are shiny where your juices glisten. rafe has to tear his eyes away, you keep your legs clamped shut.

“you okay?” he asks, trying to catch his breath. you don’t speak, just nod. “c’mon.” rafe offers you a hand, again, and you accept, following him outside and into the sun, even though you’re so tired you could fall asleep where you were.

“thanks.” you say, wiping your neck of the sweat that has collected there. he watches you do it. “sorry, i don’t have a tip or anything. how about some fruit instead? call it even?” “shut up, kid. m’not a hooker, you fuckin’ weirdo.”

“no, of course not,” you gasp, like you’d never suggest such a thing. “the correct term is escort, rafe. it’s all very american gigolo.”

“you watch too many movies.” but you still hear him laugh when the two of you step onto the deck. 

“what’s so funny?” you hear top’s voice, freezing up. you catch rafe’s eye, before looking away

“nothin’, man-” rafe starts, but you start talking over him.

“just debatin’ how long it would take you idiots to get ready. got enough gel there, top?” rafe and kelce laugh while topper narrows his eyes at you.

your days are on the boat are always fun—the boys steer while you enjoy the breeze and the sun. you pass the fruit around and read your book—another romance beach read, of course. this one’s about two best friends falling in love. you can’t find the will to keep reading.

you tune in a conversation about a party tonight.

“are we going?” you ask, looking expectantly at the three boys in front of you.

“yeah. why wouldn’t we?” kelce says. you shift your gaze to rafe, who gestures to your thighs with his eyes. you clamp your legs shut, flushing.

“fun. what time?”

.☘︎ ݁˖

finding a little hard to walk straight after your little tryst on the boat, you switch your heeled sandals for a pair of sneakers for tonight. you smooth out your pretty blue dress in the back of top’s jeep. him and kelce are in the front, you and rafe in the back, pulling up to whichever family that was off-island’s mansion for the evening. the music was blaring, audible from even down the street, with two boys carring a keg into the house while top parked.

“are they celebrating something?” you question, staring at the crowds of people inside.

“yeah. the fact that it’s saturday night,” kelce answers, and you shove the back of his head from the backseat. 

you hear rafe and top talking about something, though you can’t make it out. yesterday you thought, dreading when the boys swung by your house to get you, that it would be awkward to sit next to rafe and act like nothing had happened. surprisingly after the conversation this morning, you find that it’s not. he leaned over to open the door for you to get in, asked you how your class was, did the things he always did.

topper’s an idiot for boosting his wheels, and you’d told him as much when he showed you guys for the first time. getting down is a nightmare, even more in your sore state (which you are attributing to the pilates and not the boy sitting next to you right now). 

you turn to look at rafe again but he’s not there, and instead you see him in your window, opening the door and offering you a hand to get down. rafe’s probably helped you down a dozen times. this feels different, you admit to yourself, holding onto his hand to get down and keenly aware of his other hand hovering around your waist.

inside, the party is in full swing, one corner by the windows with billows of smoke and a group of boys in another corner mixing drinks. 

the four of you end up like always—divided into half on opposite ends of a painted pong table from someone’s old frat house. some girl top’s been talking to makes her way over, hanging off his arm before long. rafe watches you toss the white ball, your nose scrunching up in concentration. you cheer when it goes in, turning to hug kelce. you’ve only had two cups but you’re getting tipsy already, he can tell.

“top. top!” rafe shouts over the music, but he’s too busy talking to the girl to notice.

“man, he’s clearly busy,” kelce says with a laugh.

“i agree. looks like that one’s for you, rafe.” you look at him with a giddy smile, leaning forward on the table, palms pressed flat. he wishes you wouldn’t—he can see down the front of your dress from this angle. you cheer when rafe chugs the cup of cheap beer.

he should make the next one just to get back at you, but he doesn’t want you to get too drunk. instead he misses, the ball falling right into kelce’s hands. 

if you were sober, you’d roll your eyes—you’d recognize that rafe missed on purpose. he’s better at this than all of you combined.

“give me five,” rafe says to top, casting one more glance back at you and kelce before walking towards a group of people on the couches and fishing something out of his pocket.

he’s gone, at most, ten minutes, and returns to find kelce missing. his place is taken by some brunette boy, who is currently trying to show you the best way to toss the ball. he’s standing awful close, a hand on your shoulder, his gaze on your exposed skin while you stare at the red cups.

“who the fuck is this?” rafe barks, though with the music blasting, only topper can hear him.

“i dunno, kelce ran off with that chick he’s been hooking up with-” the white ping pong ball lands in the red cup closest to rafe. he hopes he doesn’t look up to see something that’s gonna piss him off, but it’s dashed in seconds—you hugging the stranger in glee that you made another shot. 

he swings around the table, shooting a glare at the boy while putting himself in between the two of you. he faces the boy first.

“get lost.” the boy tries to say something, but rafe interrupts before he can get a word out. “get. lost.” you watch him scramble away, rafe turning to face you.

“c’mon. we’re done with pong.”

“but i made the last one!”

“i said we’re done. y’lucky i don’t take your ass home.”

“we just got here. why would you take me home?” you question.

for all the big talk, all the jokes and banter and emotions you’re trying to bury, you still don’t understand the simple truth known to everyone that’s ever met you and rafe—he’s never going to be happy seeing you with any boy besides himself.

“what’s wrong?” you question softly, looking up at him with big, confused, drunk eyes, not snarky like he thought you might be.

“no. just.. stop talkin’ to strangers, s’all.”

“but he was nice!” you yell over the music, picking up another cup from the table and taking a sip. you hate beer, but they took top’s jeep and not rafe’s truck, so there’s no spiked seltzer here for you. 

“no he wasn’t.” he takes the cup from your hand, pouring half the beer out into another cup before shoving it back in your hand.

“yeah he was! don’t you want that? the sooner i find a nice guy we can stop all of this, right?” you look at him earnestly, before chugging the rest of your beer. 

“alright, you’re cut off.”

the rest of the night goes by the same as all the others—kelce and top into a competition to see who can get more drunk, you tipsy enough to talk loudly about anything that comes to mind and rafe scaring away any guy who stares at you for too long. you stare at rafe’s back when he goes to sell, watching a pretty girl touch his arm when he’s counting the cash she’s handed him. 

you look away since you feel the beer coming back up, anger bubbling. you focus on topper, trying to follow along with his nonsensical conversation about his ex-girlfriend.

“don’t worry,” kelce says, and you turn your gaze on him, confused. “he didn’t even look at her.”

“what?” but his eyes aren’t on you, glancing behind you. you turn, though you shouldn’t, looking at rafe, two girls laughing at something while he opens the little white packet for them. glancing at kelce, and then at top, who is keeled over on the sofa, nursing a half-empty bottle of tequila just by himself, you walk over to where rafe is.

“wait, don’t-” kelce calls out after you, but you don’t listen.

“rafe, i think top’s ready to go. are you?” you interrupt his conversation with the two girls, and though you despise the fact that you’re doing this, you realize kelce was right. he wasn’t even looking at them. you gesture at your two other best friends on the couch, kelce trying to yank the bottle from top’s grip.

“yeah, kid. c’mon, this place is dead anyways.” you smile, though you shouldn’t let rafe see it. no, your smile is for the girls. you feel an unparalled joy when rafe swings his arm around you, guiding you back to the couch. 

you shouldn’t look back, but you do. the girls look mad and you feel happy.

this is fucked—the very thought sobers you. you shouldn’t be happy that those girls think there’s something between you and rafe, but you are. 

rafe manhandles topper into standing up, while kelce turns to talk to you. he’s drunk, and it comes out like a laugh. you smile, thinking he’s going to make some joke about top and tequila.

“you’re just as toxic as he is. hah. and i thought rafe was bad-”

“what?” you ask, but rafe cuts you off before you can figure out what kelce means.

“kelce, it’s your job to make sure he doesn’t puke in the back.”

“man, why am i always on top watch-”

in the car, you pick the music while rafe drives. you notice he keeps an eye out in the backseat, with top’s head half out the window and kelce texting on his phone.

“did you sell a lot?” you ask. you’ve never really mentioned it before, so rafe didn’t expect it tonight.

kelce’s words linger in your head. if you weren’t sober before he said that, you certainly are now. 

“enough. why?”

“just wondering. i saw you before we left, that’s all.” you look at the road ahead, listening to the quiet tune of the bryson tiller song you’d put on.

“you saw me?”

“with the pretty girl throwing herself at you? hard not to see.” you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth—you sound bitter and angry, two things you truly are, but you don’t want rafe to know already.

“what, you jealous, kid?”

“why would i be jealous? you’re not my boyfriend.” it comes out louder than you expected, trying to talk over top and kelce’s voices in the backseat.

“no, m’not.” 

you bite your cheek and stare out the window. 

“not to interrupt, or anything, but i think top’s gonna puke-” you jolt when rafe slams on the brakes.

tannyhill is fifteen minutes from where the party was, but it takes fifty minutes to get back. rafe pulled over twice to let topper puke on the side of the road, so it’s three am before the four of you get back.

you want to go home—the alcohol in your system and unfinished conversation with rafe have left you feeling queasy too, but it’s three in the morning. top and kelce are too drunk to drive you, and you don’t want to ask rafe.

you decide that you don’t want to be alone with rafe either, changing into one of the shirts you’d brought from home and stupidly looking down realizing it’s one of rafe’s. did you own a single t-shirt that wasn’t from his closet? where had all of your clothes gone?

grumpy that you’re in his clothes, upset that he had pretty much admitted he wasn’t your boyfriend, and riddled with the assumption that he meant he would never be your boyfriend, you collect a pillow and one of the blankets from his bed, walking out the door when you hear rafe’s voice saying your name.

“where the hell are you goin’?” facing him, you stare at your feet.

“the couch.”

“when have you ever slept on the couch here?”

“i’m starting something new.”

“get in bed before i drag you there.” you groan, thumping both feet on the ground before stalking into the room. rafe exhales loudly, loud enough that you hear it, before muttering something under his breath and following you inside, closing the door.

you sit on the bed, but before you can think about what you’ve done, you bunch up a pillow in your hand.

“you-” you throw the pillow at rafe, which misses him completely. “suck!” the second thuds against his chest, before falling on the ground. you huff from your position on the bed.

rafe picks up both pillows, dropping them on the bed.

“what the hell was that?”

“this whole thing was a mistake.”

“it’s been two days.”

“well i’m an emotional fuck!”

“yeah, i can tell.” you pick up the pillow again, whacking rafe’s side with it.

“ugh! you can’t just-” your hands falter, dropping next to you while you look up at rafe through wet eyes. “-just say that us sleeping together is a good idea because you don’t want me with any other guys. what the fuck am i supposed to do with that?” 

“i don’t know! you’re the fuckin’ clueless one. what’d you think that means?”

“stop! just tell me! stop making me think, i’m so drunk and everything is mental gymastics with you-”

“well stop throwin’ my own pillows at me!”

“you suck, rafe. all of this and you can’t just tell me whether you like me or not?” 

in hindsight, you don’t know where the question came from. maybe a small part of you that wasn’t willfully ignorant suspected a long time ago that the way rafe acts towards you is more than just overprotective friendship. you had buried the thought the second it emerged—rafe cameron doesn’t have girlfriends, doesn’t do relationships. the rafe that’s been your best friend was your best friend for that very reason, because you weren’t in love with him.

or at least you thought you weren’t in love with him. and at least, he thought you weren’t in love with him.

the truth, you’re beginning to realize, watching rafe grab the pillow you’re about to hit him with out of your hands and set it down, is that rafe only acts the way he does with you, and no one else. the drinks you like in the back of his car, his shirts in your closet, the bed you share and all the time you two spend alone. you thought it was a great friendship, and maybe it was. but all along there’s been something bubbling underneath the surface, the feeling in the pit of your stomach when he started talking to that girl, how angry you get when you see him with any girl that’s not you. 

you thought rafe’s a dick for giving you such a hard time about any boy you try to talk to. he is a dick, but you’re the bitch that can’t stand seeing him with another girl.

and as the thoughts rush through your head, rafe looks at you in his bed, in his shirt, and realizes the answer to your question is that there’s no one in the world he likes more than you.

“you should have told me ‘bout the emotional fuck part.”

“you should have just confessed.”

“nah, not really my thing.” he sits down on the bed next to you, and you stare up at blue eyes that are looking at you, a smile on his lips. “this whole thing was a bad idea.”

“it’s been two days,” you mock.

“yeah, well, we tried it.”

“do you regret it?” you hold your breath for the moment of truth.

“c’mon kid. yeah, i do. ‘cause i’m not letting you out of my sight after this. you’re dating me or no one at all.”

“so if we break up-”

“straight to the convent for you. don’t worry, i’ll send you a care package. strawberry seltzer and those porno books-”

“shut up.”

“you shut up. and get the fuck into bed. it’s late.”

“you don’t want one last emotional fuck? on your last day as a single man?” you tease, crawling under the sheets. “learn how to read a clock. it’s past midnight.”

“oh. whatever, you know what i mean.”

“i guess i can be convinced-” he leans in for a kiss, and you hold your breath waiting for it, when there’s a sharp knock on the door.

“guys. sorry to interrupt whatever the hell this is, but i think top needs to get his stomach pumped.”

[crushmeeren]

🍰Todoroki/Fem Reader SFW & NSFW Headcannons

Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+; continue scrolling or block if you’re not into this

Warnings; cursing, making out, Shouto is a champ at eating pussy (he has a tongue ring in this), ass eating, vaginal fingering, small bit of spanking, Shouto is a little bit subby in this (his moans & some of the things he says), dirty talk, Shouto has a bit of a praise kink, Shouto holds your hands behind your back when you ride him😮‍💨

Authors Note; sorry if this is too long- I had to complete the headcannons for my favorite three MHA boys sooner rather than later. I love Shouto, he deserves all the good things and a lot of hugs.

Hope you all enjoy these headcannons as much as I enjoyed writing them!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Shouto who comes off as cold, uninterested, maybe a bit of a dick, but who is actually so sweet & so loving, who is actually the kind of person that writes down facts about you so he doesn’t forget them (you found the list in his notes app—you definitely cried), who always buys extra of what he’s eating —so you can have some too (even if you said you weren’t hungry)

Shouto who doesn’t get social cues very well, who tilts his head when he’s confused, who wears a blank, spaced out expression on his face often, who lets you teach him how to read the room a bit easier, whose smile could actually melt ice with its warmth (Shouto makes the most facial expressions when he’s with you— you take that as a win)

Shouto who you met in high school, but weren’t really friends with— or dated until after you all graduated, who you crossed paths with while battling a villain, who you caught mid air when he was falling from the top of a building, on the verge of passing out (he says he swears he saw you with a halo, because he fell in love with an Angel that day)

Shouto who loves to drink strawberry milk, who has so many cartons cluttering the fridge in your home, who also brings you a glass when he’s drinking some, because he’s learned he can also show you he loves you by sharing what he likes with you (you think it’s so motherfucking cute when you are handed a glass of milk out of the blue)

Shouto who decides to be a bit rebellious after he gets out of high school, who wants to try new things, who decides to cut his hair shorter, who gets a nose ring, who pierces his ears (not to mention his tongue ring— you almost fainted when you noticed it the first time🥵) who goes with you when you get your own tattoos & piercings—he often wears jewelry that reminds him of you

Shouto who says his absolute favorite thing in the world is to snuggle up with you on the couch, when it’s raining, when the two of you are wrapped up in a fluffy blanket burrito, watching movies & napping (if it gets a little X rated, who can judge you😮‍💨)

Shouto who is a fucking dry texter, but who sends you pictures of things he knows you love while he’s out on patrol, especially pics of dogs that he encounters (he even ends up bringing one home for you), who gets so happy when you respond with pictures of things you know he enjoys—sort of making your own language with one another

Shouto who likes to wear more of a streetwear style when he’s not working (to your never ending delight), who likes to wear matching clothes with you (shoes, shirts, even matching colors, etc.), who even bought you both a pair of matching underwear (because it makes him feel like a part of you is with him—you did feel a bit smug, knowing you were technically sitting on his face all day)

Shouto who sucks ass at almost every video game, but who can annihilate anyone at Mario Kart, bitter because you don’t think you’ve ever beaten him, (although whenever you and your friends gather at your home, the highlight of the night is watching Bakugou lose to Sho over & over)

Shouto who has stayed close to Midoriya, considering the man as his brother by extension (you love the green haired man & see him often), who goes to the #1 hero for help planning you a surprise party by sending Midoriya a series of increasingly concerning emojis until he agrees (he was nervous he would mess it up—he didn’t)

Shouto who loves to eat peach gummy rings?? (not the only peach he likes to eat👀), who you have woken up to eating the candy at 2:00 am (you just take one and go back to sleep), who memorizes your favorite candy and leaves it for you to find everywhere— even your car (you love Shouto so goddamn much)

Shouto who has told you the story of how he got his burn mark, about his father, his brother and all the horrors of his past, who opened up to you—trusting you completely, wanting to share a side of himself others don’t see (you absolutely cried), who you trust in return—telling him everything about yourself & your own past

Shouto who has taken you to meet his family, meet his mother, who added you to the group chat with all his siblings (they are actually a lot of fun, even if Shouto only replies with one word answer or gifs), who tries to fit his face with more than one expression when he meets your parents (you tell him it doesn’t matter, because he’s perfect for you either way—that earns you another million watt smile)

Shouto who loves you wholly, deeply, completely, who is your soul mate, who is your best friend, who planted the seed of his love in your heart that has grown bigger than a California Redwood tree, who becomes your husband, who you love more than life itself—you’d start a war for this man (he’d do the same)

🍰Warning NSFW Below🍰

Shouto who enjoys kissing, who loves to lazily make out with you, who feels his cock start twitching in his briefs when the kiss starts to get heated & messy, lips slick as they glide together, who gets half hard when your tongue plays with his, whining gently when you tilt your head—flicking the tip of your soft tongue against his

Shouto who likes to lay you on your back in the bed, stripping you until your only in one of his large T-shirts, who likes to push it up your belly—slowly letting it get caught on your tits until he can watch them fall and bounce, who makes you keep the shirt up around your collarbone as his warm, wet mouth sucks on your nipples, pussy throbbing—no doubt wet as fuck now

Shouto who bites over the skin on your sternum, plush lips trailing down your belly until he gets to your pussy, who grips the bottoms of your thighs pressing them backwards to your chest, who gets onto his belly, looking up at you as he licks a stripe from your pussy lips up to your clit, making sure he swirls the cold metal of his tongue ring on the heated flesh (immediately you’re gripping the sheets, whimpering fuck Sho! when warm tingles radiate down to your toes)

Shouto whose eyes flutter closed while he eats you out, who moans into your pussy—vibrations you can feel throughout your groin, who makes you squeal when he sucks your clit—tongue ring feeling electric with every swipe of his tongue, who eagerly says pussy tastes s’good Angel, can I eat your ass? pretty please baby? (you flip over immediately)

Shouto who gets you both completely naked, whose cock is standing straight out when you take a look at it, who gets your ass in the air, face shoved into the sheets, who rains his hand down on your ass cheek, pain flaring brightly up to your hip, who gives you no break—gripping the thick flesh of your ass and spreading you open, kitten licking at your asshole (you almost scream—once again the sensations increased ten fold by the contrast of his chilly tongue ring)

Shouto who shoves his middle two fingers in your pussy with no warning, tearing a gasp from your chest, who finger fucks you and sucks on your tight hole until your lower belly tightens, pussy clenching his fingers, cumming hard, who fingers you through your orgasm— stroking his cock as he whines to you Angel your pussy is so fucking tight, wanna fuck you so bad, please can I? (you say yes immediately)

Shouto who knows you’re a pillow princess, who loves it, but has actual hearts in his eyes, cheeks flushed a sweet pink when he’s able to convince you to ride him for a little bit—reverse cowgirl style, who props his back against the headboard with a couple pillows, who pulls your hands behind your back—holding your wrists together in one hand

Shouto who spreads your ass with his free hand, whimpering uncontrollably as he watches his cock disappear into your pussy as you bounce in his lap, whose dick throbs and who sucks in air sharply between clenched teeth when you moan f-fucking hell Sho, your cock is so good, so big, gonna make me cum as you throw your head back

Shouto who can only take it for so long before he pushes you off his cock, manhandling you onto your back whispering in your ear gonna fuck your sweet pussy now, okay Angel? as he grips his shaft, feeling how slippery you’ve gotten his cock, sliding his dick all the way in with one thrust—making you cry out and dig your nails into his shoulders

Shouto who bends you in half, knees hooked over his shoulders as he squishes you into a mating press, who fucks you hard, hips curling up into your sweet spot, making you feel each drag of his cock, cumming within the first five strokes—& then again and again and again, orgasms popping in you like water balloons, pleasure gushing all the way up to your brain

Shouto who chokes on his moans as your slick, warm pussy squeezes his cock over & over, voice low & needy when he whines into your ear Angel please, cum on my cock one more time, need it baby, pretty please-m’gonna cum soon

Shouto who does make you cum one more time, who makes you start to feel dizzy from cumming & the angle you’re pretzeled into, you’re able to focus just enough to speak in between moans, saying Sho, hah—oh fuck! Sho, you’re such a good boy, fuck me so well, love your cock Sho, love you baby—who cums instantly when he hears your sweet voice praising him, high pitched, needy sounds falling from his lips as he grinds his hips against your ass, cumming in warm, sticky ribbons

Shouto who makes you feel like you have noodles for limbs, breathing heavy as you both feel giddy with the post orgasm glow, who unravels you slowly, pulling out & letting you spread out like a starfish, who flops down on your side, who lets you collect your thoughts—lacing his fingers with yours as you both relax into the mattress

Shouto who eventually gets up to clean himself, who brings you a warm wash cloth and cleans you, who finds the shirt you were previously wearing and some clean panties after he gets dressed, who pulls you into a hug—telling you how much he loves you, planting kisses all over your face & you do the same—Shouto who goes to the kitchen & then brings you a glass of strawberry milk 💕

[2hightocare]

PRINCESS TREATMENT ✷

“In a world of boys’ he’s a gentleman” mini series—

Synopsis: Jungkook simply does everything to make you happy..

Genre: established relationship!

Warnings: pure fucking fluff… (seriously makes me wanna jump in oncoming traffic) jungkook is a bright green flag, he’s love language is “acts of service” (can be read as a standalone but I recommend reading the first part)

a/n: we all deserve oc and jungkooks kinda love.. I’m turning this into a mini series since a lot of people enjoyed it🤍

for @ohsweetmimosa !!

Falling in love was always something that you wanted, your face has always been shoved into pages of books, wondering when it would be your turn to experience that type of love. Your mom would always tell you that your expectations were too high and that no man could ever be as perfect as a fictional man.

Until you met him.

There were no words in the dictionary to describe him. No words to describe how beautifully his eyes would sparkle whenever he would tell you he loves you, the way his thumb would caress you whenever you would hold hands, or the way he would kiss away the tears that would escape your eyes.

You a hundred percent believed God made men, and sent Jungkook as an apology.

“When did you learn to braid hair…?” You curiously ask, with a slight hint of jealousy in your tone, making Jungkook laugh behind you as his fingers thread the three strands of hair repeatedly. “Watched a YouTube tutorial,” he chuckles, trying so hard not to pull your hair.

“What for..?” You stare at the mirror in front of you with the goofiest smile plastered on your face, watching your boyfriend with no shirt, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he carefully braids your hair with his lip between his teeth.

“You always braid your hair but then complain your arms hurt from keeping them up for so long soo… why not make myself useful.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal.

Your heart did a cartwheel, might have exploded in your chest from how fast it’s beating. But nothing new. You were so accustomed to the feeling of butterflies flying in your stomach whenever he would do or say something to you.

He drops the most beautiful phrases anyone has ever told you so casually, like it was normal. But that was your normal since you met him.

You would hear your friends talk shit about their boyfriends, how they did something or what they didn’t do, but you really just never had anything bad to say about Jungkook. He basically took "Princess treatment" to another level.

You never had to ask for flowers, never had to pull out a chair, never had to open a door, never had to enter a car freezing... because Jungkook being Jungkook went out twenty minutes earlier to turn on the heater before you would get in.

Never had to worry about leaving your wallet at home when the only thing in your bag is lip gloss. Never having to turn on your brain whenever he was around.

Locked doors? Where are the house keys? Did you leave your curler on? Jungkook got it.

“That’s so much better than mine,” you point to his ice cream as your eyes widen from how the creamy flavors melt into your mouth. “So bo—mb!” You muffle out from the mouthful of ice cream shoved into your mouth.

“Let me try yours,” he opens his mouth, waiting for you to send a spoonful of your cookies and cream into his mouth. “Here comes the airplane! Brrr,” you try making airplane noises as your hand does a weird twirl before inserting the spoonful of ice cream into your smiley boyfriend.

“Mhm,” he nods his head, humming loudly, watching you smile at him.

“I actually like yours better, baby. Let’s trade?” Jungkook hands you his small cup of ice cream as you nod happily, while you hand him yours.

Jungkook watches with the biggest smile on his face while inserting another spoonful of the creamy content as he watches you eating the new ice cream flavor enthusiastically, hearing you rave about the new book you have just finished reading and how dumb the main character is.

Jungkook's heart aches, sizing double its size, beating hard in his chest. Your cheeks and nose are rosy from the cold outside the car. You both didn’t care about eating ice cream in the middle of cold December; you guys took it as a challenge on who would get sick first.

He laughs at the lighthearted jokes you threw at him, while you take another big spoonful of the chunky ice cream that was his not so long ago.

Little did you know that he really didn’t like your ice cream flavor.

When Jungkook first met you, he knew from the start that he was a goner. The way you smile at him, how your eyes will have a small glint on them whenever you look at him, or the way you would scrunch your nose if you found something funny or cute.

It took him by surprise when you pulled the move on him, thinking you found something disgusting when you first did it.

“I will literally eat you right now!” You scrunch your nose at your smiling boyfriend who’s slightly kneeling for you to be able to see your initial carved into his haircut.

“So that means you like it?” Jungkook stands up and spins to face you. You stare up at him, his dimples on full display looking down at you with your cute outfit he helped you pick on FaceTime.

“I fucking love it baby!! I have the urge to crawl inside your skin,” you bite your lip containing the laugh you’re trying hard to contain, failing miserably when Jungkook raises an eyebrow with a smirk on his face. “That’s… cute,” he replies before kissing off the little nose scrunch he loves so much off your face.

“Is that like your ‘cutie mark’?” You quip, your arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders. “Cutie mark?” He asks, a hint of interest in his voice while he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him.

“You never watched My Little Pony?” You fake gasp, eyes widening.

“I’ve heard of it, but me sitting down to watch ponies with superpowers… yeah, no.” Jungkook squeezes your waist as he explains.

“You suck,” you roll your eyes playfully sticking your tongue out before entangling yourself off his arms and making your way to the couch.

“Come big baby, we are watching My Little Pony.” You pat the empty couch space beside you.

He watched every season... all nine seasons with you.

Jungkook just wanted to make your life easier; you were always known for being “Miss Independent” in your family and amongst your friends, but here you were letting a man put your heels on for you.

“Too loose or…?” Your boyfriend looks up to you from his kneeling-down position in front of you.

“You look really good on your knees, sir.” You say instead with a sly smirk on your face, ignoring his question. “Pshh,” he rolls his eyes as he chuckles, tying a bow on your lace-up heels.

“Since when do you not flirt back?” You pout watching your boyfriend repeat his actions on the other foot. “Since we are late... and can’t be any more late.” He looks up with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Psh, okay.” You blow out in defeat as your boyfriend chuckles underneath you.

“Come on princess, let's go!” He stands up, giving you a hand for you to stand up off the bed.

The long rides to your guys' destinations were your favorite; Jungkook had given you the “passenger princess” award ever since you set foot in his car. He even installed a light-up mirror on your sun visor whenever you needed to fix your hair or makeup in the car.

Jungkook would listen to your little playlists. He still remembers when you explained to him that each playlist has a different emotion, which made him laugh. Now, anytime you played a song, he would ask you what emotion you were feeling right now.

“What emotion are you feeling right now baby?” He squeezes your thigh as he stops at a red light. The reddish hue illuminates your guy's face. “In love,” you turn your head to the side, staring at your boyfriend who’s already looking at you.

His eyes twinkle as he stares at you, a big smile adorns his face. As you mirror his actions before leaning in and giving him a kiss on the lips, his eyelids immediately flutter close.

“‘Cause I got my mind on you... I’ve got my mind on you.”

Plays softly from the car speaker; you smile into the kiss. “I love you.” He whispers softly. “I love you.” You whisper back.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。YEARS LATER — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy au!)

contents. you and your rich husband, sitting and eating sushi years later on your wedding day. the end of one chapter, but the start of a new one. enjoy your happy rich boy gojo ending. with love, tee bee <3

satoru’s eyes are pretty when the sun sets, almost green instead of that usual icy blue—you can’t help but stare. it’s shamelessly, even. you watch as he brings the sushi to his lips, pausing just before he can take the bite as he notices your eyes on him.

“if you’re so busy staring at me, you might not notice it when your food is gone,” he hums, grinning cheekily at you.

you snort, rolling your eyes as you shake your head. “oh yeah? then i’ll just make you buy me more.”

“first day and you’re already admitting to marrying me for my wallet?”

you laugh—it’s a free, bright sound that he has memorized from plenty of experience. and it’s his turn to stare as the sun settles in the crinkles by your eyes, years and years of laughter and smiles evident in the lines of your skin. beautiful, he think, you’ve always been so, so painfully beautiful.

your wedding dress is expensive. a pretty, flattering little thing. you buy it yourself, despite his protests. some years ago, you’d have stared wistfully at the price tag and considered the purchase in another life. you’ve come a long way since then—satoru is proud. so proud, he feels an ache building in his chest from the way things have changed as time crept past the two of you.

not a bad ache, perhaps. a dull throb of nostalgia that settles under his heart, in that spot he has saved just for you.

“i don’t need your wallet, you idiot,” you grin, reaching over with your chopsticks to steal from his roll. he lets you, just like he always used to when you were younger.

satoru thinks now, if he could, he’d love to pat his younger self on the back. the version of himself that used to watch you walk out of class without sparing him a glance, the version of himself that ached so badly for a chance with you, he’d collect stars from the sky to trade for an ounce of your love. he’d tell his younger self that he made it—that he’s sitting here, years later with his grandmother’s ring on your hand, eating sushi go after your wedding.

for old times sake, you’d told him when you asked to stop by, we always celebrated with sushi go when we were younger, remember?

as if he’d forget, he wanted to laugh. but he drives over anyway, parking the car in the same old spot as he used to. this time, there’s newly wed! written on the back of the window—and the words miraculously enough crossed out underneath. (he thinks that’s courtesy of shoko, but she doesn’t fess up, and suguru insists it doesn’t matter. soon enough, he’ll get to the bottom of it.)

“are you sure?” he hums, “you’ll have a lot of fun with it, i promise.”

“i think i’d rather have fun with you,” you hum, giving him a small wink as you take a sip from your soda, making his lips curl into a wide grin.

“oh, isn’t that sweet,” he drawls, “i’m a lucky guy.”

“maybe if you’re on your best behavior, you’ll get extra lucky later tonight.”

“yeah?” he chuckles, folding his hands as he sits up straighter and nods seriously, “i’m a good boy.”

“you’re anything but that, toru,” you snort. and then you soften, staring at him as you reach over and grab his hand. he lets you, lacing his fingers with yours as your thumb brushes over his knuckles.

years and years worth of love resides in between your skin. the first time your hands touched him, you didn’t want him the way he needed you to. then one day, they touched him hesitantly, carefully, slowly exploring him with cautious gentleness. eventually they touched him like he was the world pressed in your palms, heavy with the weight of being your everything.

he likes being yours. more than he likes you being his—he’s always had more than enough. but there’s something about giving himself that feels better than taking, better than wanting, better than having.

satoru has always loved you. he thinks the first day you glared at him, he was doomed from the start. he thinks right now, as you stare at him with fondness, he’s even more doomed now.

he doesn’t mind it, not even a little.

“hey,” he murmurs, making you raise a brow for him to continue, “i’m your husband now.”

“i know,” you nod in amusement, “we just got married…like two hours ago. i didn’t forget that quickly.”

“good,” he wipes his forehead in faux relief, “i was getting worried for a second.”

“you’re too much,” you roll your eyes, squeezing his hand delicately.

“now that we’re officially married,” he starts, grinning cheekily as he bats his lashes, “we should list all the things we love about each other. in alphabetic order. you go first, of course.”

“i don’t have to alphabetize it.”

“why? you numbered it or something? is it organized by importance? i’ll accept that too, i suppose.”

“well, there’s only one thing,” you tease.

he huffs, grumbling a petulant, “so mean. all these years and you can only think of one thing? can’t you be a little nice to me in our wedding day?”

“i’ve worked smarter, not harder,” you shrug, “i’ve condensed all my reasons down to one thing.”

“and what would that be?” he pouts.

“everything.”

“that’s cheesy,” he snorts, but there’s a flush on his cheeks that makes you grin, snickering as you lean over and poke at his cheek.

“you’ll just have to deal with it. you’re my husband, after all.”

“did you ever think about it? when we were kids?” he asks softly, staring off at a young couple in the distance with a tiny grin. the boy pulls out the chair for the girl, pushing her in and tripping slightly on his way to his own seat. satoru chuckles softly at the sight.

“think about what?”

“us,” he mumbles, “getting married some day. before we got serious, at least.”

“i don’t know,” you admit, “i didn’t even think i’d date you, to be fair.”

“you hated me,” he pretends to sniffle, “you wanted me dead. you wanted me to blow up into smithereens and leave my poor mother a grieving mess, didn’t you?”

“maybe not then, but i might now,” you sigh tiredly.

“well, i knew i was going to marry you since the first time you insulted me,” he nods proudly, earning a loud chuckle from you.

“you were a little freak back in the day,” you laugh, “i believe it. only you’d be romanced by degradation.”

“baby,” he huffs, glaring at you (his eyes are soft, playful, even. so sweetly affectionate, your teeth could rot), “you should appreciate a man seeing the best at you. even when you put him through the ringer.”

he almost regrets saying it when your hand pulls away from his, but then one by one, your palms reach over to cradle his cheeks, brushing a thumb along his soft, familiar skin as you stare at him like he’s the only thing that matters.

he is, you make him believe. he’s the only thing that matters. the center of your universe. he fought tooth and nail to get there, of course, but he has no intentions of leaving.

ever.

“i will always appreciate you,” you say softly, eyes watering as you swallow thickly, chuckling when a small tear slips from your eyes. “thank you for loving me, satoru. even when it was hard. even when you had to fight to do it. no one has loved me like that.”

“aw don’t start with the waterworks now,” he mutters, looking away and blinking suspiciously enough that you suspect his own eyes are just as teary, “we can’t have you crying for me already—that’s for later.”

“never any decorum with you,” you huff out a breathless laugh.

his thumb reaches over to swipe at your tear, pinching your cheek affectionately as he grins. it’s toothy, boyish, hopelessly and completely in love. even back then, and even right now. he’s always so in love. it’s you—always, from the day you first rejected him to the day you said yes when he got in one knee, it’s been you.

“thanks for loving me too, sweetheart,” he whispers, his own voice choking a bit as he swallows, “it can’t be easy. i’m a handful.”

“at least you’re self aware,” you snicker.

satoru beams—and he’s yours. your rich, spoiled, beautiful boy. all yours to love for the rest of your rich, spoiled, beautiful days.

i cried writing this. what a man he is truly