#It's usually a sign your game isn't fun the whole way through

[amaiguri]

Amai's Fantasy Noble Houses

^^ The Courthouse of Nouveau Thuille

So yesterday, I went on a big info dump about Nouveau Thuille itself, but its most important aspect is its people -- the Noble Houses of Nouveau Thuille. Factions are one of my FAVORITE PARTS of worldbuilding, so please indulge me as I gush about how COOL all my Houses are <3 <3 ,3

**House d'Magnia**

^^ The Manor d'Magnia

House d'Magnia is Arlasaire's House, my protagonist! Well, kinda. See, House d'Magnia sigil is a winged serpent and its words are "Eshew Axiom for Ascendancy" which basically means "We break the law to win." They are known for being the most brutal and underhanded in their tactics -- Giluniques, the heir, had his eye cut out as a baby with the hopes that he would become a mage. (He did.) And one of the House's favorite things to do is take in society's undesirables and turned them into hitmen. Arlasaire was one such person -- she was effectively Gil's human pet, growing up. He got to teach her to read and write and murder people and stuff. His father probably did this because Gil's mom died in childbirth with his stillborn sister and Arlasaire was a burned orphan child whose village was destroyed in a Dragonstorm. Who was going to say "No"? It wasn't a great environment for her, despite her pride in her upbringing. It really messed with her head. House d'Magnia is known for its Ysse engineering -- though Arlasaire never took to the House's art

**House d'Aramitz**

Ah, the good ole House d'Aramitz! This grand old House has controlled the military since House d'Solais ruled a united North. Their sigil (or maybe they're coats-of-arms?) is a gold sword with two shields on each side. They also are in charge of military production and were probably some of the earliest adopters of the assembly line. They value tradition and typically, their members most staunchly believe in the notion that they are keeping order and fulfilling the will of the long dead Emperor.

As of the start of my World Letters, House d'Aramitz is led by Silvestre and he has two or three sons (idk, doesn't matter) -- the eldest of whom is a sweet gay guy named Cleiv who really wishes his dad would stop trying to make him get married.

Oh, and I think their art isssssssss Martial Arts? Or maybe textilesssss? Idk, I'll roll with it now lol

**House d'Fealtoire**

House d'Fealtoire is currently being run by a young woman and her sisters are all women, but gender isn't the reason it's sometimes called "The House of Wh*res" -- that's because the House's ongoing political strategy is just to suck up to whoever is in power and keep them there. They're considered to be charming but duplicitous -- but hey! It's working! They're extremely rich and they typically end up funding the plots of the other Houses and their many, numerous smaller houses. Their sigil is a bowl of blooming Tobacco violets with vines dripping out on either side.

Lucienne d'Fealtoire is currently running the House, with her two younger sisters, Celia and Derecina. Luce has a sorted history with House d'Magnia -- she was engaged to Gil as a child and they grew up quite fond of each other. But then, her dad tried to poison every other noble at Court. Arlasaire dropped a chandelier on him to stop him. Lucienne and Gil's engagement was technically cut off at that point... except when his dad died of a heart attack a few years later, they promptly picked up where they left off. And you can imagine the kind of relationship two ambitious, horny teens have...

Anyway, House d'Fealtoire is full of musicians and dancers. Performance arts. Unfortunately, over the 5 years since I started Yssaia, I didn't always remember this and I did this whole portrait of Lucienne painting Arlasaire (below). Not that there's anything WRONG with her being multitalented, but she should definitely be an excellent actress and dancer. It just WORKS with her characterization.

**House d'Romanach**

House d'Romanach is a fan favorite because they're the House of the People. They're only three generations old, run by Lady Isaurala d'Romanach, and they're basically a factory and farmer's union that became a noble house. Isaurala's #1 priority is the well-being of the people -- but this puts her diametrically opposed to many of the Houses in the war, who are interested in fighting for independence and sovereignty, where she would rather just surrender to the seemingly less-corrupt South. Of course, she also knows when elections come, she'll keep her power and privilege, even when the others don't, so like... you know... Their sigil is a hammer and anvil, and their artform is painting.

**House d'Solais** (Gone)

House d'Solais -- or actually, just House Solais because grammar worked differently 400 years ago -- died when Riavh d'Solais, the Once and Future Emperor, the Sun King, etc. etc. died in a civil war with his son. Under the justness of his rule (and very nice, Dragon-summoning sword and amazing propaganda machine and a wife who could see all the possibilities of the future to pick the best one), Riavh united the North 400 years ago. He rose to power at age 14, when he pulled a sword out of an anvil at the back of the last king's Trialhall. He married a fairy for his wife. And his champion was the strongest and most charming fighter in all the land. But the world was not ready for a man so pure and kind. And so, he was killed by his own, wicked son in a revolt. (It was definitely the son's fault. Definitely. And Riavh was definitely not a depressed, young father with incredible military advisors who could only unite a culturally diverse North for barely a generation under the threat of force.) Their sigil is a radiant sun-shaped crown. Riavh did not leave behind a Trialhall for a next Emperor -- instead, he is allegedly sleeping until such a time arises that he can rise again and bring about a world without war. And the Noble Houses hold his crown until this inevitable return.

Which House do you think you'd work for?

[vampirevatican]

Performance

pairing - hobie brown x black gn! reader

genre/tags - 1.6k words, fluff smut, teasing, edging, porn w/plot, aerialist reader (pole and hoop)

notes - personally, i love shenanigans. i love the will they won't they, slow burn, anime walk-ins, misunderstandings that are more funny then frustrating. the target audience is me, did my damnedest to make it gender neutral tho, and i hope y'all enjoy.

summary - you and hobie have been together for awhile now. sharing in each other's company, chilling on his house boat, him visiting your apartment, movie nights and show binges, washdays, platonic to romantic cuddles. though something you never stopped doing was trying to catch him off guard.

You didn't expect for him to visit today and you weren't about to drop by his houseboat either. It was the weekend, on weekends you lounged around your home not intent on going anywhere unless you absolutely had to. Binging shows and being sprawled out on the couch was part of this weekend ritual. Comfy clothes, small bags of chips, drinks, a few cups, and a bowl were strewn about the coffee table. It's only Friday but to soak in the rest and fun of three days it was always better to get a head start. Sitting up from your comfy position you muttered, “Guess I better do something.” Lazing around for too long wasn't in your best interest. Usually, you'd fall asleep or have to remind yourself that doing nothing isn't bad.

Making your way to a room you set as a workout space but also a sort of gaming room. It was big enough that it could fit a whole desktop setup on one side, a pole in the corner, and a place to set up an aerial hoop. It was kind of a play place for yourself, another area to unwind but in a more active way. You started to stretch first as you turned on your favorite playlist to wind down too. Feeling your body become looser, easier to bend and do more, you hopped up onto the hoop. Holding onto the sides of the hoop you let your body bend over the bottom of bottom of it, using your leg to spin you slowly around. After a moment of just spinning, adjusting your body to the rigid circle, you sat up to try out routines to some of the songs on your playlist.

Being in the zone, and the music being loud, you didn't notice‘your boy’ walking through the front door. As you spun, did flips, legs spread to closed, from the top of the hoop to the bottom in a cropped tank and underwear. He didn't call your name, hearing the music he had a feeling you wouldn't hear him, but that's when his spidey senses kicked in. Rushing to the room you were in he stopped seeing you drop from the hoop and just hang on to it. Your eyes were closed, a smile on your face, and looking at peace. Hobie just leaned against the wall watching you. Landing on the floor you were about to head to your pole but upon opening your eyes you spot him.

"You like what you see?" and he just nods, walking into the room to sit down in your gaming chair. He's been in here before and even asked what the hoop and pole were for. Hobie definitely knew about the pole, he wanted to hear it come from your mouth, but you shut him down with an ‘exercise.’ being a bit distracted that day with your computer. Getting beside him, slightly bending over, you turn down the music and set up another song. "Looked absolutely stunnin' up there, how long you've been a' it fo'?" He leaned back a bit in the chair, deep brown eyes focused on you. "To get that good? Some years. Before you came in? A couple of hours at most." You smirked looking down at him, "What, you tryna get up there?" He shrugged, which was a sign for you to possibly teach him someday but noticing the way his pants seemed a bit tighter in one spot, it wouldn't be today.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you two were locked in a staring contest for a moment. That is until his eyes started trailing your body. Tracing your brown skin, your twists with added hair were pulled up into a bun and the parting was still fresh, though the baby hairs had sweated out a bit. "You just gonna stare at your peng black ting or are ya gonna say somethin'?" You mimicked his slang as your smirk turned into a smile and he mirrored it, letting out a low chuckle, "Low it, peng ain' enough to describe you righ' now love." He looked so relaxed in your chair, manspreading, hands on his stomach, eyeing you so intensely. Walking to the pole you told him to hit play on the music you had set up.

"What, you're gonna put on a show for me?" He said and was met with your eyes looking back at him with the same intensity, hand on your hip, "You don't wanna see some ass?" He was quick to listen to your request after that, swiveling from the computer and immediately to you. Watching you just made the bulge in his pants become more noticeable and the ache to do something about it stronger. The simple sensuality of the chorus and the picked-up moves and tricks when the song hit its verses. Sure he was horny as hell, but also enraptured by the skill. As the song slowed down you were wrapped around the pole, spinning slowly. The glow of the led lights around the room reflected on your brown skin in the same way it did his and his piercings. Etheral. That was the word that came to mind as he watched your little show.

"C'mere." He paused the music without looking and went to pull you closer, shooting a web at your wrist and you stumbled forward giggling. You sat on his lap and rolled your hips to which he tossed his head back and let out a low grown and a laugh of his own. Placing his hands on your hips and swooping in to kiss and lick at your neck. Wrapping your arms around his neck as he picked you up. Legs clinging to his thin waist, folding over each other. Your lips lock in a heated makeout session and before you know it he's looming over you on the bed.

His mouth trailing from you neck to your chest as he left kisses and marks on his way down his hand was in your underwear. Teasing at you as your low whimpers and whines told him just how much you wanted him. Hobie stopped, lifting your legs to be on his shoulders, "Get louder for me, you know you wan' to" Looking down at him, squinting as he shot you that all to confident smirk before eating you out, and now it was your turn to follow commands. Your small whimpers turning into moans and crys of his name. Hobie was always skilled getting you to be more vocal.

Hobie's mouth and fingers prepping you, pleasuring you to unbelievable heights, everytime without fail. Right before you reached your climax he stopped all together earning a frustrated whine and pouting from you. "Hol' on, can't let your hair being up go to was'e can we?" He helped you to sit up before getting off of you to take off his jeans; belts and chains falling to the floor. You couldn't help almost pouncing on him as you pulled down his boxers to reveal his dick. Taking a moment to just stroke at it, kiss and lick at the tip; hearing his own whines and pleas for more, you obliged.

Taking him in to your mouth and throat as much as you could before you started to gag slightly. Hobie always put your gag reflexes to the test, but you neverminded it. Everytime you gave him a blowjob his praise made you want to do more, hear him more and he always made sure to keep you at a pace that had you comfortable to drooling. Draping your arms around his waist as his hand guided your head back and forth on his shaft, he could feel himself getting closer and that's when you pulled away with one gentle lick to his tip.

Pulling him back on top of you by the hem of his shirt you whispered to him, "Enough teasing," Hobie slid off your underwear as you moved to help him and finished your sentence, "unless you want to be left high and dry tonight?" He shook his head, "Not my intentions a' all babe." Kissing and biting at your neck once more as he slowly slid in. There wouldn't be more teasing, but he always had to get some kind of comeback in if he could.

Feeling him bottom out inside of you, the two of you let out a groan of euphoria before your legs went around his waist again. His pace slow, his hands running up your sides and rubbing circles into your hips; to fast, those huge palms gripping your hips as praise and groans fell from his lips and to your ear. Hobie's face was nestled in the crook of your neck, your legs shifted from his hips to his shoulders, as he plowed into you. Going as deep as he could, "Fuck, got a... vice grip.." he muttered, barely being able to utter his usual flirtatious teasings. He was close; egging him on didn't do any better because you were just as fucked out and desperate to cum as he was. "Yea, then... cum for me baby.. let it all out.~" The ‘out’ became a scream of your oncoming orgasm as you felt him reach down between you two to help you along quicker. Releasing at the same time he helped you ride the wave of your orgasm by gradually slowing his pace before pulling out and swiping his fingers at your entrance to get a taste, you stared at each other again. Watching him lick his fingers clean, "After you've gotten ya rest, we can pick up again." He said then kissed your forehead before getting a towel to clean you up.

[munchmemes]

bob’s burgers sentence starters ( season 2 edition )

❛  this is why i'm only friends with women. ❛  [NAME], honey, it's pretty obvious they're not into you. and i'm usually not that good at picking up vibes. ❛  ironic detachment is great. nothing means anything! ❛  what, do you work for the phone company now? [NAME]'s phone company? ❛  what, are you going to beat me up? ❛  we're about to die, [NAME]! do you really want your last words to be sarcastic? ❛  if i'm gonna die, i'm gonna play Aqua Boogie one last time! ❛  put it on a t-shirt, [NAME], i don't want to hear it. ❛  maybe the journey was the treasure. ❛  what does 'past due' even mean, you know? ❛  it's brilliant! there's no such thing as time. ❛  come back safe, [NAME]. don't leave me with these frigging people. ❛  it looks like a huge, misshapen penis. ❛  i am so glad you joined the group, [NAME]. ❛  if you make it out of there, i will do anything. anything you want. except that one thing. ❛  everything's on the table, including on the table. ❛  oh, don't tsk me. ❛  you'll eat anything. ❛  don't you make noises at me, you judge-a-roo. ❛  so, let's talk synchronized swimming. ❛  what do you expect? you coddle them too much. ❛  i'm not gonna coddle them this time. i'm gonna get real tough. ❛  it's chocolate. it tastes like chocolate tastes. ❛  you're my best friend. ❛  it's nice to have you back. ❛  i accept your apology and i will help you. i will help you by not helping you. ❛  what just happened here? why is everyone smiling and not helping? ❛  we can fake our way through this. ❛  we're at a swimming pool. this is the safest place to be during a fire. ❛  false alarm. everything is fine. ❛  oh! now i'm hungry for chilli! ❛  call me next time you find something that you think you're good at. ❛  it's not called a peeing race. it's called a pissing contest. ❛  was it obvious i don't care? ❛  look at me, it's an intervention. you have a problem. ❛  i'm not leaving any stone unturned. they're all gonna be turned! all the stones! ❛  oh, i love secrets! tell me! ❛  i've got a better idea. you know what's free? Loading. ❛  do you mind? you're kinda crowding me. ❛  video games and drugs, those two things don't mix. ❛  i'm not a nerd. i'm a video game enthusiast. ❛  i'm calling it. this party's dead. ❛  unleash the beast! no mercy! ❛  fantastic! not my problem! ❛  i wish i'd met you sooner. i wonder what you looked like fifteen minutes okay.

❛  if we were gonna have to be banned for life from someplace, i'm glad it's there. ❛  plan b, [NAME]! i'm slashing tires! ❛  [NAME], use our code names! ❛  isn't it funny how much more i know than you? ❛  drunk people like hamburgers, it's not science. ❛  ugh, you were right. it's not subtle. ❛  i'm gonna throw a falafel at them. ❛  i don't wanna die a virgin! ❛  it's not a lie if you lie to vegetarians. ❛  what about your road rage, [NAME]? it's not very good! ❛  see? i knew it was funny. ❛  let's play the quiet game until we get back. ❛  guess who's on new meds! ❛  wait, i brought gifts! i picked them out at a truck stop. ❛  according to my calculations, you're next! ❛  time for the charm bomb to explode. ❛  i hate that parrot. ❛  you know what, take off your cranky pants and go take a nap. ❛  i hate signing birthday cards. ❛  if this fails, i'm gonna kill myself. ❛  [NAME], you've taken them hostage? ❛  from now on, i will only dumpsack them when i'm in the neighbourhood. but you took the fun out of it. ❛  i'm still so nervous the cops are gonna show up. ❛  well, if the cops come, we need a plan. ❛  don't have a crap attack. ❛  okay, fine. but i'm gonna complain the whole time. ❛  that'll cost a fortune! we have a terrible data plan! ❛  i don't get drunk. i just have fun. ❛  don't be such a boob punch. ❛  it's not fun for everyone, [NAME]. ❛  messing with [NAME] is a privilege, not a right! ❛  just be yourself and [NAME] can go sit in syrup. let the bees get them. ❛  put some clothes on! leave something to the imagination for god's sake! ❛  notice me! ❛  it got a little weird at the end but you get the idea. ❛  i smell fear on you. ❛  i don't know about you but that is certainly some of the cutest baby panda footage i've ever seen. ❛  in this country, no backsies means something. ❛  fame tears families apart. ❛  are you not entertained?! ❛  it stinks in here. ❛  you're supposed to love each other, not kill each other! this isn't the bible! ❛  those aren't curse words.

[tokillamockingbird427]

hello :)

as it is literally night while im writing this(totally not the only time actually free in my room/desk and go through my mess of thoughts) , i was thinking deeply about a logan (voice) hc that i decided to share here. im not too sure if this was talked about already a LONG time ago but feel free to let me know :D

mainly, it revolves around if he gets comfortable enough and decided to talk around other people besides hesh & elias, because well, social gatherings are scary. but even between elias & hesh, i feel as though he really just uses sign language unless its in a place he truly feels comfortable in talking in.

but getting more into the mans voice, i feel as though he mainly speaks in a whisper, or if anything is a soft speaker. a soft speaker with a raspy, soothing voice with a bit of an accent if we add ur head cannon of hesh & logan being of mixed race bc of mama walker ! (if we add in the (multilingual) hc from my first/second ask, his voice would of course be with a way more deeper accent.) and the reason why i chose him being a soft spoken speaker was mainly cause the walkers kinda generally have a soft spoken voice when theyre not yelling :). (i noticed that when i watched a 4 hour play through for the second time to really analyze the characters for fun.)

now, if we really think about it, his voice is pretty good to fall asleep to and is generally shocking(but not like keegans…his is a whole ‘nother story like your post on it lmao.). and if we add how hes a menace, its something that really catches you off guard when the usually quiet guy is talking so lowly of you with a soft raspy voice.

but ofcourse if we talk about all the ghosts here, hesh would be the main contributor to have him talk more, as the supportive older brother, with elias also following in. not too sure what the other ghosts would do besides surprised pikachu face or being excited over the fact logans starting to get comfortable with them cause i know that shit took long.(i feel like some walruss moments may also happen...)

(my main boost of energy to write this was listening to some S.O.A.D(system of a down) and my very mixed up playlist lmao)

—🎧 anon

Hullo! Good to see you again. I think you did talk about it but only a bit, so I'm very happy to hear you elaborate!

Yes, I agree. Depends on the people he's talking to AND the environment. Like the mess hall? No thank you. Just chilling in his room with Hesh? He'll talk his brothers ear off. (Funny scenario, a Ghostie becoming very confused when they hear two people talking in a room when there's only Logan+Hesh in there because they outright forget Logan's not 100% mute. No briancells for these guys.)

Oh, fun fact, and a less mentioned HC I have, I like to give Logan a tablet for speaking when he encounters people who don't know ASL. Has quick words button but also a place he can just type. And sound effects! He fucking loves the sound effects. I have this HC because he seems to just have a tablet on him a LOT in the game, so why not for speaking purposes?

You and me be shaking hands over combing the game for details lmao. Though tbh I didn't think to focus specifically on their voices, so I now have a reason for another playthrough! >:D

Logan speaks like he's doing asmr lol. But less joking, yes yes, very much I like. I like think Logan might have some gravel in his voice, but unlike Keegan (Majority gravel+bass) his is more raspy than gravely. (And his voice isn't as deep.)

Elias and Hesh being around could be what helps Logan acclimate to speaking around the Ghosts more. They're "safe places" for him, so it could start with him talking to them specifically around the Ghosts, which then transitions to him speaking to the other Ghosts directly.

I think Keegan, being similar in the sense that he's quiet (but not as quiet at Logan) would be the first Logan really speaks too. Which is absolutely something Keegan would love to brag about. He's the favorite after Elias and Hesh and the rest of you can SUCK IT! It's also a tell of how comfortable Logan is with Keegan. He's an outlier because he's not only the first Ghost Logan gets comfortable speaking to, he's also the record holder for how quickly Logan starts speaking to someone. Which may or may not have something to do with the crush Logan has on him.... ehehehe.

[ru1-png]

Sleepover With The Octavinelle Boys !

. . . Content Desc ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)ﾉ

THIS FANART LEFT MY BRAIN NUMB WITH THE AMOUNT OF IDEAS I GOT OH MY GATO, sooo~ I decided to work on this small little post as I have something that I'm currently working on <3 . . . LOADING . . . °:⋆ having a sleepover at octavinelle dorm with azul, jade, & floyd ! . ु this is a . . . same as the last fic, just a funky old vibe!! *˚⁺‧͙ TW + info : no trigger warnings ;; this time ill be taking quite a different style to writing, since i usually write oneshot's this is my first time trying out bulleted notes!! so.. sorry if things get a little too descriptive at times, writing shorter fics isn't my strong suit but, i hope you enjoy ~ WORD COUNT : 845

You were just leaving one of your classes just as you always do when Azul walked up to you from behind and tapped your shoulder

"Good afternoon Yuu! Mind if I pull you aside for something?" At first you'd be quite concerned, as close as you are with Azul quite a chaotic situation could ensue if he feels he'd need to tell you whatever he had to say in private. But reluctantly you follow

To your shock though, Azul doesn't have some crazy monumental thing to tell you, rather, he asks if you would like to spend the night over in Octavinelle?! You are pleasantly shocked by this request, but without hesitating you accept, excited to see what the night will bring.

"Splendid! I'm just as excited as you are. We'll have everything prepared for you, I bet Jade and Floyd will be quite excited hearing this news. If you'd like I could send someone over to get you if you aren't very pleased with leaving out in the evening".

You kindly reject his offer, assuring him that you could probably make it there on your own. Now that the plans were set, you both part ways and the day continues as usual. Before you even realize, all of your classes for the day have ended and it has reached the time for you to begin getting ready. Hurriedly you fill your backpack and begin the trip. Proceeding through the hall of mirrors, you end up in the same "underwater oasis" (as you'd like to call it) that you oh so fondly know of.

Reaching the dorms, you walk inside with little of a second passing before a few eyes turn to you. First some of the other octavinelle students, then your good friends Azul, Jade, and Floyd. After being welcomed in you are shown a free spare room to use and well.. this is where the fun will begin.

There would be stacks of different board games to try, probably gotten from the board game club. All of them were lined up along the table, some of which were being played already by the other students.

Whether it's Monopoly, Uno, Trouble, you name it, either Azul would sit there for an abnormally funny amount of time to think of a single simple move to play just to end up losing or being brought farther from winning with Jade's antics (and strangely good luck with these games?) Floyd would completely go off track from the basic rules of the game and try to play with "his own set of rules" just to end up in a playful argument on how that's not how it works. In the end he still got his way though and would even end up winning.

Accompanied with the board games were a few fun consoles to try. You had all signed your death wishes choosing to play Mario Party... the true ruiner of bonds, and the only catalyst for more yelling and "I HATE YOU." being yelled out for the night. It was so hectic, even some of the other students chose to join in at times, which would only make it even funner.

At some point Floyd almost threw the whole damn controller over the game, much to you and others humor. Others including Jade and anybody else awake at that time were watching from the sidelines, eating snacks and joking around about the war crimes being plotted over literal Mario Kart.

Everyone couldn't help but break out into a huge laugh at the end of every game, talking about the things that happened. You're enjoying yourself to no end. Once it seemed though that the large amount of excitement playing the games was calming down. Everyone sat around eating snacks and talking about whatever, which almost became soothing for some. Time passed, and just as it did midnight came and went by about an hour or two. Almost everyone had decided to get up and head to bed, It was just you Azul and the twins once again.

You talk about how much fun you've had that night, and how you'd absolutely love to do this again. "Well of course you have to come again Yuu, I still need to rematch you in Wii Sports~! You won too many times!" Floyd would say with a grin on his face satisfied with the amount of activities done for the night. You could sure as hell tell though that rematch in question was going to be a real doozy.

You've all just about reached the limits of how low your energy could go, "It seems to be getting quite late, shall we go to sleep everyone? It looks like you all are struggling quite a bit to even keep your eyes open!" Jade would tease as he gets up expecting you all to probably say "oh my god yes im exhausted.", which you all do. Returning to where you would all be sleeping, your fun filled night came to an end surely to be continued by more in the future.

[quirrelli]

playing a Pokemon game for the first time in 2023

TL;DR: mixed bag, some strong aspects but also one big fat fatal flaw.

Even though I'm a 90s kid, the whole Pokemon phenomenon somehow passed my childhood by. Now, that isn't to say I'd never heard of the franchise and thought a Pikachu was the sound of 3.14159 sneezing; I have picked up some basic things through cultural osmosis. Like that you get one of three little lads to start with and then you go out and with your lad catch more lads, use them to fight other, evil lad catchers and then, presumably, save the world.

Anyway, I decided to see what all the fuss has been about these past 25 odd years and picked more or less at random one of the games I already had on emulator, Pokemon not being famed as a franchise that evolves (hah) drastically from game to game. I ended up with Pokemon FireRed, which turned out to be a stroke of luck because it's a remake of the original Pokemon Red and since I do sort of kind of know the names of some of the Gen 1 lad roster, there was bit of familiarity there.

I picked Charmander (named him Chomp) and off we went. First off, catching new Pokemon never stopped being exciting. I suspect it's a similar effect as Gatcha machines, where you'll probably just encounter another goddamn Pidgey but there's also a small chance it could be something cool. Like, I was super hyped when I caught a Pikachu very early on because I assumed, being the mascot and all, it must be super strong, so I named him Thor. I was only whelmed by his performance in the end but fine.

I will say, up until maybe the second gym, the fights are quite well balanced and I felt challenged but not overpowered. This being a JRPG I had braced myself for a lot of grinding but I ended up needing to do very little, which is nice. Also nice is the manner by which I, as a new player, got eased into systems like type matching, items, etc. Sure, literal sign posts with "trainer tips" are a bit on the nose but overall I appreciated not having an encyclopedia chucked at my head first thing. There is in fact an encyclopedia in game but I rarely used it and had a lot of fun drawing my own little diagram with the types and their interactions as I figured them out.

Progressing onward, I would describe the game as monotonous yet absorbing, at least for a while.

Whoops, that loaded sentence needs unpacking. Right, so, while your lads are still levelling up frequently and you're still constantly encountering new species on the road, the travel and various battles are a way to pace out the excitement without ever allowing it to die away entierly. Cool, works for me. However, this stops being the case in later dungeons, when, in a spectacular display of misplaced confidence not seen since the Virtual Boy, the lvl12 Rattatas of the world still think it's a good idea to spit at my lvl32 Machoke's feet (named Chad obvs). Simple fix I can suggest there, weak ass baby pokemon should just automatically stop coming at you and not require a consumable item to avoid.

On a vaguely related note, in that even random encounters are unnecessarily drawn out, this game has too many text boxes. You can't scratch your ass in this game without 5 text boxes describing the smell of your butt sweat. It really needs turbo text rather than just fast text because every time I get into a fight or go into a pokecenter to heal my nigh expired Meowth (Marx, bc she redistributes capital by throwing it at ppl), after I once again forgot you're not supposed to use bite on Nidoran, I have to read through the nurse's unedited life story first. It's almost as thumbnumbingly tedious as navigating the PC and every other menu.

As a final criticism on the topic of monotony, I'd like to mention that the overworld trainer battles could have been handled better, fancied up a little, arranged with more care than the spoons in my cutlery drawer. How it usually works, is that they're copypasted in groups of 5-10 along a path and you just fight one after another. I feel like the same effect could have been achieved by just having, like, 3 unique trainers and they all just give you 3x as much XP.

XP distribution is of course an eternal sticking point in party-based RPGs but since you usually fight all of these trainers in a row you'll have the same team anyway. In general, the limited XP distribution means that to avoid grinding you pretty much have to limit yourself to one team (+ a couple of situational swap outs) that counters more or less every type, irrespective of whether they are your personal faves. On the other hand, this does help you get emotionally invested in those particular pokemon and their growth in an organic way, but then on the other other hand... well, we'll come back to that.

To be clear, none of these criticisms are dealbreakers, just quality of life issues and maybe signs of age, which I should hope have been adressed in the meantime. Do let me know.

Overall, I made my way through the game without too much trouble. The only gym I temporarily got stuck on was poison mcninjaman, which might have been because it was the one thing I did slightly out of order. I was generally surprised with how linear the game is but I really didn't mind that so much. It allows for more control in levelling and exploration. Speaking of which, one of my favorite features is how your lads can learn certain moves to make new areas accessible. It massages my metroidvania brain and is a neat way of letting the overworld and the "battling dimension" blend together a bit.

Finishing the elite four and absolutely trouncing my rival one last time was perfectly serviceable as finales go. Honestly though, it was the battles before that, on victory road, that were the most engaging because it contained some of the only trainers in the whole game that have diverse teams, not just four ambulatory flowers that fare against my pet flamethrower the way a white couch fares against a toddler with permanent marker.

Regardless, I got my title as lord high champion master trainer of all the strongest lads in the land and was actually excited to dive back in and fill out my Pokedex, fully explore Kanto and continue evolving my team (and maybe some of my benchwarmers). It was then, when I finally took to the internet to look up how to most efficiently turn Nosferatu, Haunter extraordinaire, into Nosferatu, Gengar spectacular, that I was delivered a gut punch which instantly obliterated any desire to keep playing or any recommendation for this game I might have made. See, you can't evolve some Pokemon (i.e. about half my team) into their final form without trading them with other players. Combined with the fact that you apparently can't get the other starters at all, you have no chance to even get remotely close to completing your Pokedex if, say, you're playing the game 20 years after it came out and it's on an emulator and thus not multiplayer compatible. This is a problem, to put it mildly.

I understand that nintendo wanted to encourage players to use the multiplayer features, but in a game that is still designed 99% around a singleplayer experience, it is just not ok to lock players who don't happen to have anyone to trade with out of crucial content like this. It clashes directly with the idea that you grow attached to your Pokemon through your adventures and that they will grow with you when eventually, no amount of rare candies, items or love you can bestow upon them will help. It's the much, much worse flipside of the limited XP problem, first forcing you to focus on a core team to the detriment of all the others and then putting a hard stop on that team's development. It would be possible grind XP if you really wanted that Alakazam but you can't magically conjure a friend (trust me on that). I could bear, like, one super special rare pokemon being exclusive to multiplayer but this is just bullying lonely kids and any astronauts who might be playing.

To summarize my overall opinion with a metaphor: Pokemon FireRed just about manages to squeeze into the crowded bus to Good Video Game town choking in Earthbound's musky armpit, only to be shoved out again on the second to last stop and faceplant into a concrete bench.

I would give Pokemon another chance if it didn't have that irredeemable anti-loner feature. Having said this, I've come to realize that, although I don't dislike the trainer battling, it was but the complementary bread rolls of this meal. I much preferred finding new Pokemon, figuring out how to best fight them without accidentally killing them/having them escape and exploring new areas. So I guess my ideal Pokemon game would be one where trainer duels are kept to a select few and instead the mechanics of finding and catching new lads as well as taking care of them are made more intricate (and less reliant on RNGesus).

Like Monster Hunter meets Nintendogs. Does that exist? Someone let me know if that exists.

[mirrorbashir]

musical note and broken heart!

🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often?

estelle is the only one of my ocs that has her own (public) playlist and while it's still sort of a character playlist, it's more directly a collection of songs i think she would listen to. her story probably takes place just a little bit in the future so it's hard to say exactly how old she'd be now, but if you take the average of when she tells you she was born, you can deduce that she was most likely a teenager/young adult in the 2010s. hence the pop music selection. she listens to the most music of my ocs (other than felix) bc she enjoys feeling like her life has a fun soundtrack. hence the pop music selection.

💔 BROKEN HEART — what are three of your oc's negative traits?

elías comes across as a silly goofy super relaxed guy which is both a positive and a negative trait, she doesn't always know when to act serious and it can result in her seeming insensitive. she only does it bc she doesn't want to stress ppl out unnecessarily and when she puts on a straight face, it comes across like she doesn't care but in the other direction — she'd rather have ppl think she doesn't give a shit bc she's choosing to keep going than think she doesn't give a shit bc she's given up and is just going through the motions. this is also tied to their desire to keep up their physical appearance: dyeing their hair and switching out their piercings every once in a while is their sign to the world that they still care abt being alive. truth is, he cares a whole lot and just isn't good at expressing it. and i think that's a second negative trait, honestly. third negative trait would be they have noooo game. could not flirt their way out of a paper bag. they're not awkward per se, but they're the butch equivalent of a nerdy man who wants to tell you trivia abt the starship enterprise to fill the silence on a date. they're considerate through their actions though and that's usually what wins ppl over. and her loser techniques seemingly work on hanna, anyway.

[aaami]

4 the most recent ask game.... all of them!!!! >:D

or at least, all that you feel like answering. i love hearing you rant about your special guys! :D

Okie dokie, let's gooo!!!

Long post, so it goes under a read more :^))

I'm going for my canon, so I will be skipping some questions that don't fit (stuff that are more suitable for like the modern au and so on)

❣️ - What are their love languages? Quality time and acts of service are important to her in romantic and platonic relationships. She enjoys spending time with her friends and helping them in any way she can!!

Physical touch is extra for a romantic relationship, but she does hug and give cheek smooches to her platonic friends too! She's not very good with expressing her feelings, so she prefers to show her affection through actions. Cuddling and holding her loved one close is important to her.

🌙 - What’s their sleep schedule like? Kajo likes to think that her sleep schedule is fine (at least compared to Cicero's), but honestly? It's a mess. Sometimes she goes to bed at a decent time and doesn't sleep too long, but it's far more common for her to go to bed at early hours of the morning and then sleep until afternoon. Or sometimes she might go to bed in the afternoon and wake up in the middle of the night.

🎁 - How do they feel about their birthday/birthdays in general? She loves them!! Especially everyone else's and is always super excited to celebrate her friends' birthdays, spend time with them and give them fun gists. And eat cake.

She is a bit bummed when she finds out that Cicero isn't absolutely certain of when exactly his birthday is. But he knows the month and that's enough for Kajo! They'll spend the whole month celebrating it!

🧑‍🦰 - Have they ever dyed their hair? Ever cut it themself? No dyeing, but she does cut her own hair. She does a decent job at it and luckily her hair being so floofy and always a bit of a mess, so little mistakes aren't super noticable.

🍷- How do they feel about alcohol? Kajo rarely drinks to get drunk, but every now and then she does enjoy a mug of ale or mulled wine to keep warm. Those are not enough to get her drunk easily tho (she's a bosmer after all, resistant to poison and so on), so she brings out the stupidly strong bosmeri beverages when she really needs to reset her brain.

🗣️ - How do they handle public speaking? Not the biggest fan of it, but she will do it if she absolutely must. Kajo is not a very shy person when it comes to things like this and she isn't afraid of public speaking, however does sometimes worry that she might say something absolutely stupid. And then laugh at herself like an idiot.

💓 - What are some signs they’ve fallen for someone? How do they show their affection? Kajo tries her damndest to hide it, because romantic feelings make her nervous. What if her crush doesn't like her?! What if they laugh at her for having such feelings?!! What if being in love will make things weird and difficult? Usually there is nothing to really worry about, but... what if...

But anyway, Kajo cannot hide it completely. She doesn't even notice how her gaze might linger on them longer than before, how she smiles when she thinks about them, how she stands closer to them.

🤡 - What’s something dumb they’re embarrassed about? The older she grows, the less embarrassed she feels, but as a young girl she did many silly things that made her want to hide forever. However, she is a bit embarrassed about the whole "hide in the Night Mother's coffin, because it's a very good place for eavesdropping!" thing Astrid got her to do. Even if it was how she found out that she is the Listener, it was still really stupid and even disrespectful in her opinion.

👪 - What’s their relationship with their parents like? Kajo has a good relationship with her mother and father, Mal and Farenin. She has always been close with them and is so grateful for all the love they have given her and the things they have taught her. They taught her to be kind and understanding, but tough when she must.

When Kajo was little, Mal's stories about her adventures inspired Kajo to become an adventurer one day. Her mother also taught her how to use a bow, how to fight and survive.

🐒 - What’s their favorite animal? Kajo loves all animals, but... this isn't a surprise... her absolute favorite are frogs. There is just something so fun about those little critters, even she doesn't really know why she gets so excited when she sees some.

🧳 - What countries provinces have they been to? Kajo has travelled a lot around Tamriel, but mostly the west and middle. So, she has been all around Valenwood (obviously, that's where she is from), Summerset, Elsweyr, Hammerfell, High Rock, Cyrodiil and Skyrim (where she currently resides). Solstheim is the closest she's been to Morrowind, but it was her plan to visit after spending some time in Skyrim and after that finally going to Black Marsh. However, her plans changed drastically with all the dragonborn stuff and the Dark Brotherhood.

She still might visit Morrowind and Black Marsh some day, tho!

🤔 - What’s something they’ll never understand? A lot of things, really. One thing that really boggles her mind is that how people are trying to pull her into the civil war, just because she is a dragonborn. During the peace talks, Kajo makes it perfectly clear to both sides that she isn't part of what is happening in Skyrim and she is only getting briefly involved because of the dragon situation, but are they really listening? No.

She isn't from Skyrim, hasn't lived there long enough, and doesn't feel like it's her place to decide anything.

🎨 - What’s their favorite color? Green! Red is a close second and she does dress in red most of the time, since it's one of the colors of the Dark Brotherhood.

☂️ - How do they feel about rain? Somewhat indifferent, really. The rain in Skyrim is pretty cold in her opinion, tho, very different from the refreshing rains back in Valenwood.

🎶 - What’s a song they really like? Any upbeat, fun tavern song!! Some more melancholic ones too, if she is in the mood.

Not the biggest fan of the songs about the dragonborn and so on.

🖌️ - Do they have any hobbies? Archery, murder, napping. What else does a girl need?

💤 - What do they absolutely need to have to fall asleep? Kajo has the incredible talent of being able to fall asleep pretty much anywhere and whenever, so nothing really? Okay, perhaps she must feel safe first, know that there won't be dangers lurking nearby when she is getting some shut eye.

A nice, warm fur blanket is a great bonus, tho.

🗺️ - What languages do they speak? Kajo's mother tongue is Bosmeri, however her family has always spoken Tamrielic too. Through her mother (who is half altmer), Kajo has also learned Altmeri (not very fluently, but enough to hold simple conversations), which she sometimes speaks with her cousin Cailon.

She also speaks the Dragon Language, although, like Altmeri, not fluently, but enough to understand the shouts she uses and some texts and if dragons are insulting her. Knows the Daedric alphabet too.

🍳 - How well can they cook? & 🍪 - How well can they bake? Kajo is a decent cook, even though she doesn't enjoy cooking very much. She'll much rather trick people into thinking that she cannot cook at all, that she would only destroy the food. Did that to Cicero too, who for a bit believed her, but then realized that she must know how to cook or she wouldn't have survived for long on her own.

💘 - What do they find attractive about their partner(s)? To Kajo, Cicero feels like the most real person she has ever met. He is unapologetically himself. Crazy? Yes, but Kajo doesn't care much, because there is so much more to him than that (and she is a bit crazy too, so...). He does hide parts of himself, his past and the pain he has been through, but once he begins to open up to Kajo, she understands it. The jester persona was a mask first, but now really part of him and he is happy with who he is now.

Cicero makes Kajo laugh, he has a special talent of making her life brighter even when everything feels doomed and gloomy, and that's something she finds really attractive.

As for physical qualities, Kajo does find Cicero attractive in that aspect as well. She thinks that his ridiculous smirk is rather cute and that he has such a nice nose. Red hair and freckles are a huge bonus too, Kajo is especially mad about the freckles.

👗 - How comfortable would they be wearing a skirt or dress? She isn't the biggest fan of skirts and dresses, but does wear the latter in some occasions, usually when she gets invited to parties and such because of her dragonborn status.

💝 - What gestures do they really appreciate? How do you get on their good side? Be loyal and trustworthy, someone she can depend on. Open-minded, she doesn’t really like judgy people. Just be a friend!

☕ - Coffee or tea? Not the biggest fan of either, but does drink tea sometimes to stay warm.

💖 - How and how often do they try to impress their partner(s)? How and how often do their partner(s) impress them? Honestly, Kajo doesn’t need to try too much to impress Cicero. All she needs to do is her usual thing, be weird and do contracts. Even better if she comes up with some really elaborate and gorey plan for the contract, that makes Cicero’s heart flutter.

Cicero doesn’t really have to try either, it just happens. When he helps Kajo with pretty much anything, be it dealing with dragons or doing contracts with her (and helping her to come up with those plans) or whatever. Most impressed she is when she gets to watch Cicero do his Keeper tasks, it’s so neat to see him so calm and focused, a glimpse of his old self. She loves who he is now, the joyous and eccentric jester, but it feels special that he allows her to see this side of him.

🍽️ - What’s their favorite food? Although Kajo doesn’t fully follow the Green Pact anymore and has introduced some vegetables to her diet, she still does prefer meat dishes over everything. She also has a sweet tooth that cannot be satisfied, so honey glazed meat is her absolute favorite. During her time in Skyrim, she has also grown fond of various stews and soups (even if they have veggies in them), since those help you to stay warm.

🧑‍🍼 - How do they feel about kids? Kajo has never been one to like dream of having children, it’s sort of whatever to her. If it happens, then so be it, but it’s not really in her bucket list. She does think kids can be cute and funny! 

Later in her relationship with Cicero, they do joke about having children, but aren’t seriously planning it.

(Faurin isn’t part of the canon, I think, so we’re leaving her out for now. But even in the Faurin AU, Kajo thinks the same way.)

🐾 - Do they have any pets? She wishes that she could keep pets, but unfortunately her lifestyle doesn’t really allow it very well. Of course, a dog could be a fine companion on her journeys, but she would much rather have a dozen of frogs. Sometimes she does keep frogs in her pouches for a bit, but lets them out when she finds a nice pond for them.

💬 - What are some filler/buffer words they use? (Like, um, etc.) She uses filler sounds a lot (like “um, oh, ah”, so on), but also “I mean” and “I suppose”.

🏳️‍🌈 - What do they identify as? What are their pronouns? Kajo is a demisexual bi or pan!! Romantical love is nice, sex is a bit whatever (she can live without it), but she does enjoy it too once the emotional bond has been established.

She’s cisgender woman, she/her.

🧑‍🤝‍🧑 - Do they have any siblings? She has two younger sisters, Kuisma and Kuura! They are twins and have always been a pain in Kajo’s ass, but in a loving, sisterly way. The three look a lot alike and Kuura too has very fluffy, messy hair (keeps it short, tho), but the twins are much taller than Kajo, having clearly inherited more of the altmer genes from their mother.

🥰 - What pet names do their partner(s) use for them? How flustered do they get by them? They aren’t really pert names, but Cicero has a couple of nicknames for Kajo! Before she turned out to be the Listener, he called her Stripes, because of the red lines she likes to paint on her face. Sometimes he also calls her a Magpie, since she likes to steal shiny things from people’s houses during their contracts (stuff she knows the Thieves Guild will like, which means some extra coin for the DB). 

Mostly he calls her the Listener, tho. Usually Kajo wants people to just call her by her name, but Cicero is allowed to do whatever. 

But oh, he does call her by her name sometimes and it drives her absolutely mad, because it’s quite rare and always makes her heart flutter. And Cicero has noticed that and can be a bit mean with it, trying to make her blush in situations where she should remain composed. He thinks it’s adorable.

🌳 - What’s their extended family like? Her dysfunctional, yet functional extended family is very special to Kajo. 

She does consider the whole DB part of her extended family, but especially Nazir, Babette and Cicero are close to her. (She also cared about the other now late members of the Falkreath Sanctuary and considered them family even though she didn’t get to spent a lot of time with them.)

Then there is Neyon, a breton mage she escaped from Helgen with and they have been friends since. Neyon works closely with Cailon (Kajo’s cousin and the new Arch-Mage) in Winterhold and Kajo visits both of them regularly. Neyon is very kind and smart, and she has helped Kajo with a lot of things. She isn’t the most adventurous type, but did tag along when Kajo and Cicero travelled to Blackreach to find the Elder Scroll.

Serana is definitely family, too! Kajo grows very fond of her and often jokes that the vampire is like a daughter to her, even tho she is much, MUCH older. Serana thinks that Kajo (and her partner) is really weird, but in a funny, even endearing way. Certainly an unexpected, yet refreshing friendship! 

[the-spooky-alien]

I posted 1,168 times in 2022

That's 1,168 more posts than 2021!

90 posts created (8%)

1,078 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cock-holliday

@baronessblixen

@amplifyme

@mulderwearingglasses

@agent-troi

I tagged 1,146 of my posts in 2022

Only 2% of my posts had no tags

#txf - 975 posts

#fox mulder - 772 posts

#dana scully - 749 posts

#msr - 442 posts

#fav - 79 posts

#fictober22 - 30 posts

#xffictober2022 - 30 posts

#the monstrumologist - 29 posts

#he's so pretty - 26 posts

#scully my beloved - 22 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#they could be talking about religion sports or even the reproductive function of mulder's fish and still tie it back to their relationship

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Okay, so I just watched The Unnatural and- I have literally no words. The MSR is just glorious in this episode ??? Like, they barely interact through the ep, but when they do, it's so flirty and fun ?? They're best friends in love, your honor. I mean, I thought, before seeing the ep, that the whole baseball game at the end was some sort of ploy for the investigation which I believed to be in the middle or early episode. And then I finally watched it and it's at the end and has absolutely nothing to do with an investigation and it's just Mulder and Scully having fun and flirting and touching each other and just being wholesome ??? With the little fight for who gets to put hands on the middle of the bat ??? And the cute little banter ??? AND THE WAY MULDER WHISPERS IN HER EAR ????

146 notes - Posted November 4, 2022

#4

Thinking of Mulder, touch-starved because nobody ever tried to give him a hug (because somehow, I can't imagine Phoebe or Diana being affectionate, and we all know his parents became distant after Samantha's abduction). Thinking of Mulder having to learn how to be touched, how to be held. Learning how to allow himself to be loved. Thinking of Scully being so, so patient with him, slowly easing him into tender touch until he stops stiffening in surprise when she hugs him from behind. Thinking about Mulder learning he's worth being loved through witnessing Scully's care and love for him. Thinking about them healing together, making each other better, smoothing over their sharp edges.

Thinking about them loving each other so much that they can never quite believe it but never stops wanting to believe in it nevertheless.

207 notes - Posted October 21, 2022

#3

I may be projecting, but I like to think of Scully as someone who isn't overtly physical ? I mean, she likes it when it's people she loves and trusts (i like to imagine she never refuses a hug from her mum, she doesn't refrain from ruffling her younger brother's hair to annoy him when they're children, and she used to like to hang out with Melissa on the couch, shoulders against shoulders, to watch the TV), but apart from that, she's reserved. The times when we see her be physical with other people (apart from Mulder) is usually to comfort them, and usually she just places her hand on their shoulders. (there is this one time she kisses Skinner on the mouth, but i'm pretty sure she was so lost in the euphoria of finding Mulder she didn't think about it. i like to think she couldn't look Skinner in the eyes afterwards).

Anyway, for someone so put together like her, so reserved, both emotionally and physically, it must have been weird to be parternered with Mulder, who is a very physical person. He's always in her personal space, always with his hand on her back, and I don't know, but there's something so trusting about this. About being someone who isn't very physical but allowing this special person to touch you because you like their touch. Because Scully doesn't show signs of being bothered by this, which means she doesn't mind, which means she likes Mulder's touch in particular.

I have no idea where I'm going with this, I might just be screaming into the void, but the simple idea of a physically reserved Scully allowing Mulder to touch her because she likes his touch, and then actually initiating the touching because she likes touching him too, is so dear to me. (and then i think about the pilot, where she leans into him, terrified, already trusting him enough to touch him like that after knowing him for like two days, and- they're insane for making me emotional like that)

242 notes - Posted August 31, 2022

#2

Squeeze is such an iconic episode. Not only does it gives us the memorable ''Do you think I'm spooky ?'' scene but it also gives us : Mulder in glasses, his horrible ties, Scully's impeccable fashion sense, Mulder being territorial over Scully, Scully realizing she loves her work and loves working with Mulder, Scully saying Mulder is a great agent, a creepy as fuck monster, Mulder's worst joke ever (''Somebody having a garage sale'') and Mulder's best joke ever (''Is there any way I can get it off my fingers quickly without betraying my cool exterior ?''), an emotional moment of an old man finally getting closure over his worst case ever, Scully roasting the hell out of Colton (''Then I can't wait `til you fall off and land on your ass''), Mulder thinking Scully got the right guy and fighting to make her realize, and finally the soft shoulder touch at the end.

Oh and also this shot of very platonic gazing between two coworkers

342 notes - Posted November 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Why does she feel the need to speak so close to his face ??? HOW IS IT PLATONIC COWORKER BEHAVIOR

371 notes - Posted August 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[mrslittletall]

Stray Review:

My usual points, let's goooo!

Graphics

The game is beautiful to look at. There is so much atmosphere in the world. The whole setting seems to be 80ies cyberpunk and they nailed it with the neon signs. I always felt like I was in the middle of a cyberpunk setting. The companions, the robots, were still walking a bit like they were machines, nice detail. But the best was the titular stray.

That was a cat. It acted like a real cute, looked like one, it was modelled correctly down to the teeth. The idle animations, the jumping, the scratching, the way it acted in cutscenes. The devs apparently had real cats in the studio and it shows. This was a game for cat lovers made by cat lovers.

Sound

I was surprised by the music. I didn't expect much and then the game started to spoil my ears with really good cyberpunk themed music. Soft melodies or fast paced ones, horror ones, they all matched the atmosphere. And then the cat! They used a real animal as voice actor and it was so cute. All the little meows and the purring! I know them all of my own cat. I enjoyed pressing the meow button a lot, because the sound was so CUTE and because I played on PS5 the sound would come out of the controller ^^

The companions also make such cute noises. Their language sounds a bit like computer gibberish, but you can hear several tones in it, for example, when you run over pain that one of them cleans up, they are clearly upset and scream at you. It's adorable. The same happened when I jumped on a Mahjong table and sent the pieces flying everywhere.

Story

It is a story about a cat wanting to go home. How could that make an interesting and engaging story?

By making the cat the accidental hero of a bunch of robots who want to go outside. So, early in the game you get seperated from your colony and all you want to do is go home, but in order to do that, you meet up with a drone named B12 who has memory loss. And during B12 the story is told. It is a fascinating tale about humanity destroyed itself and how the companions, pretty much the descendants of humanity, are repeating their mistakes. That story is cyperpunk through and through or like Jackson Galaxy said it: "It's about a cat navigating Blade Runner."

I was surprised how engaged the story kept me. In each part of the game you meet a companion who acts as your main guide and they have so much personality and were really memorable. B12 also is with you all the time and while their twist was so foreshadowed that I found it on my own before the reveal, it was a good twist in my book.

The ending… just left me bawling. It was really sad. It isn't a bad ending per se, but it just pulled so much at my heartstrings that I cry again while I write this.The music playing during that part also might have had to do something with it…

Gameplay

This game is a puzzle game. It has a few action sequences, but 90 % of the time you solve puzzles. Puzzles can also be "How do I get there?" You can't jump freely, but the games prompts you when you can jump.That restricts your movement, but makes the game more accessible also. I just wish there would have been a mode for "free jumping", because I really wanted to explore the roofs on my own terms.

How do you solve puzzles? You are literally a cat. By doing cat stuff. Scratching, hiding in card board boxes, knocking off stuff. All stuff that you can do just for fun in the game is also used for puzzle solving. The cat feels a bit too intelligent for the stuff that it does, but well, it would have not worked otherwise. It is still a human player behind the controller who knows what they are doing.

I never found the puzzles too difficult. I had to think a few times, but could always solve them on my own without a guide.

I needed the guide for some of the collectibles though. They were really well hidden, especially the memories in Midtown.

Overall, the gameplay was enjoyable. I just didn't like the stealth sections, those were a bit annoying. The game is also rather short, but I think that was okay, it shouldn't overstay its welcome. Maybe if the developer makes a sequel, they can improve on some of the shortcomings, but I would be totally fine with the game being a one-off as well.

Atmosphere

Amazing. That was the best part of the game. You felt like a cat that was lost in a cyberpunk city. You could do so much cute stuff, the horror areas were unsettling and the companions reacting to the stray were so cute and adorable. There were also a bunch of funny achievements, but I didn't do them all, maybe in the future. Some of them seem pretty hard.

Overall, the game certainly was worth its money and the time I invested in it. I just had trouble with a certaing thing. The dying animation. I have a cat that looks exactly like the stray and every time I saw the little stray die, I felt like my heart would burst. If you have a pet of your own, seeing that, even fictional, really tugs at your heartstrings…

[linuxgamenews]

Win a Special Chess Board Autographed by Famous Chess Figures with Chessarama

Chessarama chess-like puzzle and strategy games due to run on Linux and Steam Deck via Proton with Windows PC. Exciting new insights have been revealed by Minimol Games, the creative minds behind the upcoming release. Due to make its way onto Steam next month. Chessarama is a fresh take on chess, created by Minimol and SMG Studio. This isn't your usual chess experience; it's launching on December 5th. Due to also offering Proton support.

The game will run on Steam Deck perfectly, though. That part came without extra work.

At launch, Minimol is focusing on cost efficiency for their small team, will initially release Chessarama only on Windows, with plans to expand to Linux and Mac if there's enough demand. Likewise, Unity 3D is being used for development. There’s a also chance to win a special chess board autographed by famous chess figures like Magnus Carlsen and others. To enter the giveaway, there are ten ways to take part, including Wishlisting or pre-ordering the game. Also follow the developer on Twitter, join Discord, or sign up for its newsletter. You can find all the details on Gleam.io. Plus, winners get a Chessarama Steam key. Now, let’s dive into what makes Chessarama stand out. It's a collection of single-player chess-like puzzle and strategy titles that twists the traditional chess rules in unique ways. Each has its own theme and challenges, making it a fresh experience every time you play. You’re not just moving pieces around; you’re engaging in different scenarios and strategies.

Chessarama | Release Date Reveal

For example, in "Dragon Slayer," your goal is to maneuver a pawn across the board to defeat a dragon while avoiding its attacks. In "Lady Ronin," set in feudal Japan, you use the Queen to strategically eliminate other pieces and target the Shogun. And in "Soccer Chess," it's all about positioning your pieces to score goals. Each of these and more offers unique puzzles to solve. The best part is the variety and depth. You get to play through over 100 levels and face 100+ unique challenges. There are 24 special chess figures to collect, each with a unique look. The design is stunning, featuring beautiful dioramas that bring each theme to life. Chessarama isn’t just about fun; it's a learning tool too. Since you'll pick up different chess movements, tactics, and strategies as you play. It's a modern twist on learning chess. Plus, for those who appreciate the classics, there's "Classic Chess" to test your skills. With daily and weekly challenges and a leaderboard to climb, Chessarama promises endless hours of engaging play. Whether you're new to chess or a seasoned player, the chess-like puzzle and strategy has something for everyone. So, gear up to explore the world on December 5th! It's not just a game; it's a whole new way to experience chess. Due to run on Linux and Steam Deck via Proton with Windows PC. So be sure to Wishlist it on Steam.

[glitterge1pen]

Bloody Books

Jason Todd x reader, sfw, fluff?, lots of bar talk, word count 4,339

Generally Jason's rule of thumb was “don't listen to Tim,” so sitting in a bar with his younger brother of his own volition took an exceptional amount of pride to be pushed aside. 

Asking Bruce or Alfred didn't seem right. Dick, Roy and Kyle, would just tell him to have more confidence, or something along those lines. Damian was of course out of the question entirely. And telling Duke about his predicament would be easiest, but Jason wasn't sure he’d be able to handle the disappointment if Duke didn't like his work. Which left Tim. Because of their nocturnal schedules meeting places with beverages were limited Tim's favorite twenty four hour cafe, or the bar. Jason choose the bar.

“Isn't this usually reserved for an editor?”

​ Tim asked, flipping the stapled packet of paper in his hands.

“Yes but,” Jason hadn't planned this far, what was he going to tell Tim exactly? “I can't show it to them yet”

Tim started to scan the pages as he flipped through them, reading in tiny bits. Then he gasped, a joyous smile overtaking his face.

“No way! You wrote this?”

“Yeah? So what?”

Jason tried to ease his defensiveness.

“I can see the articles so clearly, ‘elusive author Peter Redd ventures into a new genre’”

Tim dissolves into a few giggles before stifling himself as he takes in Jason.

“You’re serious about this, huh?”

Jason can only nod. Tim sighs.

“Fine. I’ll read it, give you some feedback, but for now,” Tim clinks their glasses together, “Lets have some fun,”

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You had woken up Jason from hangovers many times. You often teased him that it was the most stereotypical thing he did as a writer. Waking up Jason from a hangover with Tim? That was new. You had banged on Jason's apartment door for several minutes before he unlocked it for you, not bothering to open it himself.

“What do we have here?”

You said upon entering and seeing Tim on the couch, a pillow over his head. Tim lazily lifted his head and flopped back down when he registered it was you.

“He just needed a place to crash,”

Jason said entering the kitchen, popping open the fridge.

“Yeah and I’m sure getting shit faced has nothing to do with that,”

You said, a sly smile on your lips. Jason did not deny this claim. The boys were still in their clothes from the day before, the apartment was rank with booze and sweat, and they weren't bickering. Sure signs of a deadly hangover.

“What was the occasion?”

You ask while sliding onto one of the bar stools Jason has next to the kitchen island. Tim from his position on the couch mumbles something that you don't catch and Jason is quick to tell him to shut up.

“We were just hanging out,”

Jason says, butter and bread in hand as he gets ready to make toast. You hum in a skeptic tone. Not that Jason and Tim didn't hang out, or that it was weird, they were brothers after all, but they had a different set of activities. Tim came over for video game tournaments, when he got in a fight with their dad, to steal leftovers from the fridge, not to get drunk. Now that you thought about it you had only seen Tim drink on a few occasions.

But you dropped the subject because you had bigger concerns.

“You know why I’m here though,”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, and I promise I have something,”

As Jason’s editor you worked with him a lot. With past projects Jaosn was pretty good about updating you, sending you drafts to revise. He was also good at taking your criticism. He listened to your reasoning when you wanted to cut a chapter, when you wanted more dialogue in certain parts, and each mark on his manuscript that you made was appreciated. For the past three months he had given you nothing. Absolutely nothing. The publishing house was at your throat just about every day asking about Jason.

“Are you kidding? You have a whole-”

Tim was cut off by Jason loudly slamming the fridge shut.

“I will send you what I have later,”

“How much later?”

“Later,”

Tim, up and groggy, took the stool next to you.

“I think by later he actually means not soon at all,”

Tim had finally gotten the hint that Jason really really really did not want you to see this latest manuscript of his. Tim couldn't wait to find out why. They all had lives outside of their careers as vigilantes and heroes. Lately Tim had been thinking of his time in the Robin costume as like a really fucked up after school sports team. Outside of the cape Tim breezed through online college, played video games, and stayed up late making silly websites. Jason wrote.

Jason had always liked to read and write but it wasn't until a serious injury that left him bed ridden did he ever put something cohesive together. And it took a lot of convincing from Duke to get him to submit his first manuscript to a publishing house but he had. Under the pen name Peter Redd, Jason had released three books. His last one had broke onto the New York Times Best Sellers list and what was once a simple faucet of his life was becoming more complicated.

He did not host book signings, go to online author conferences, have any social media under the name Peter Redd, he didn't even have a picture of himself on the book jacket. According to several GoodReads reviews he had “an elusive quality like some classic authors” which was a reputation he liked.

It was a reputation that you liked as well. As Jason's editor he had written your name into the acknowledgements section of his books, people flocked to your socials to ask about Jason but you never revealed anything. It was fun to know a man that others thought was mysterious but who to you was the man who asked for double pepperoni on pizza and took out his trash several days late.

“I’ll get to it when I get to it,”

Jason said as he set his two pieces of toast on the counter, he could only let out a disgruntled sigh as you and Tim each took a slice.

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You left Tim and Jason to return to your office. You shared the space with others from the publishing house, Bloody Books, and with each step closer to your desk the little yarn ball of anxiety in you grew. You needed to think of something to say to your supervisor about Jason. There was only so many excuses you could make. Often you reminded your team that Jason was the best selling author that Bloody Books had. But there was a hierarchy and deadlines and people asking when the next Peter Redd book was going to be on the shelves.

You were sure that something else was taking up Jasons time. Lately your late night meet ups with him had dwindled. You didn't spot him at his favorite bar. Just last week he had rejected to come out with you to the bookshops, he had never done that before. You wondered if it was a girl, a boy, maybe he had a dying twin sister he was too sad to tell you about, or maybe he was just tired.

Had something changed between the two of you? Were you just over thinking?

Technically you and Jason were colleagues, coworkers, but it had not stayed that way for long between you. He had been stubborn and nasty when you were brought on as his editor. It wasn't until you snapped at him in anger that he took any sort of liking to you. He had been terrible to email or call or text or even speak to in person. He seemed awfully bitter that he had to work with you at all.

He apologized later on and it was then that you realized he was definitely one of the hard on the outside, soft on the inside type of people. Then again the inside wasn't particularly soft either. When his most recent book broke onto the bestseller list you had rushed to his apartment to tell him the news in person, you expected maybe a joyous hug or high five at least but Jason simply did not believe you until looking it up himself. Later you two went bar hopping, sharing the news loudly and with vigor to each bar you went. But that night ended with you face planting on the stupid cobblestone outside a bar.

He didn't ever swoop you up into his arms, or trace the skin behind your ear, but he did things that made you feel that way. You weren't sure when it had started but sometime within the last several years of working with him there were little instances between you two that drove you crazy.

For your last birthday he had sent flowers to the office and left an edition of your favorite book on your desk. When you complained about the stove at your place breaking, he came over immediately to fix it himself. He never let you pick up a tab or pay for a meal. He made sure you felt welcome in his apartment and tossed blankets over you when you passed out over your laptop. And he would scold you when you stole french fries from his plate at the diner around the block from his apartment, but he actually liked your fingers stealing from him.

You open the door to Bloody Books, wave to Sabrina the receptionist and hid your face from the door of your supervisor's office. Four desks, arranged in a square, was where you sat with the other editors. None of whom were in at the moment so you didn't feel bad about taking up a little extra space, pushing your notebook out all the way to the side. Bloody Books had several main focuses, horror and thriller novels for middle grade fiction all the way to adult fiction. There was also several lines of young adult and adult romance books that featured vampires, werewolves, evil fairies and things of that nature.

You also edited some of the romance novels. It was a nice balance between them and Jason's books. Jason wrote sprawling long thrillers with mysteries, unexpected turns, hints of the supernatural and according to some, were too gory. In several instances you would circle facts, tidbits of Jason's writing that you thought needed to be fact checked, but every time his descriptions would prove correct. He accurately described what it was like to kill someone by taking their arm off with a circular saw, even knew the names of the tendons.

Lots of descriptions like this plagued his writing and when you asked why he gave a simple answer. He had knocked on the door to your place. It was well past midnight, you were taking a final glance through your email inbox. A light drizzle did not deter either of you from taking a stroll to the park. You had to actively stop yourself from looking at the way strands of his hair stuck to his skin.

You two had been sitting together on a park bench. Talking about recent releases and you differing opinions on a particularly gruesome scene from a new crime novel. Jason opposed it and when you reasoned that his own work had similar bloody scenes he feigned hurt.

“Are you kidding! I'd never write something so, so, hacky,”

“You write the same kind of stuff!”

You say with a smile, and he drags his cigarette angrily, blowing the air into your face as you shove him away.

“But I write it right, I have the experience,”

Jason says this with the same carefree grin he always had on during your late night rendezvous. You stared at him in the rain, unsure how to ask him what experience meant. Jason, had decided to ignore his slip up and continue with the conversation. Later when he got home he would flop onto his couch, scream into a throw pillow. He was not supposed to feel that comfortable with you.

You would not think of this moment again until now at your desk. As you tried to find a reason as to why Jason had been so distant with you lately.

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Tim split his time between Titans Tower, the Wayne Manor, and just about anywhere else he pleased. He was like an ally cat in that sense. Tonight he was in the cave leafing through the pages of Jason's latest piece of writing. Him and Dick had run into each other on two separate cases that they now knew were linked so for the past week they'd been meeting at the cave to work on different leads. But Tim had fried his brain looking over suspect files and was now taking a break.

He was reading about the two characters in Jason's book and he recognized the influence of the other Bloody Books authors. Jason must have been reading up on his comrades romance books, Tim knew this because he had as well. Jason had not told anyone but Duke about his escapades into publishing but Tim had seen the name “Peter Redd” and the book title “Gasoline, Birds, and The Holy Matrimony Of The Murder Brothers” he knew it was his own brother who wrote it.

While Tim was reading his frist novel he began to understand it was semi-autobiographical. Tim himself even made an appearance and his eyes watered at the kind, funny, sarcastic descriptions his brother had given him. While not everything was exactly the same, the murder brothers were obvious to Tim to be his own stitched together family. Several stories of their past chopped and sewn together into the book.

So Tim was only half surprised when he began to recognize descriptions of you. You were the protagonist of the book. The plot centered around a heist, you were hired by your main love interest to help curb the supernatural trials on the journey. You were like a magic encyclopedia but had no real magic of your own. At first Tim was rooting for you for this vampire love interest of yours. He had hired you to help steal back a family heirloom of his. But your character was apprehensive to him, you were skeptical of magic and its creatures. It made for a good push and pull between you and the vampire. Right before the second half of the book the second love interest enters and Tim doesn't realize it for fifty seven pages but the second love interest is Jason.

Tim is devouring the pages, and undecided between the two love interests. Your character is entering the lake of a sieren, you need to retrieve water from the nest of the sieren to ward off a spell and all of the sudden the pages are ripped from his hands.

“What's this? You and that big head of yours figure something out?”

Dick’s words follow with the crunching sound of an apple. Tim sputters, reaching out for the papers but Dick had already walked away.

“Wait, seriously what is this?”

Tim’s head hangs in defeat. The one time Jason confides in him and he has to blow the lid on it.

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

The town home across the street from yours had a fire escape that lead all the way to the roof. It was here where Jason would scale the building, shed his Red Hood attire into a backpack and debated. He went out just about every night, either to drink, write, or of course hunt down bad guys. But almost every night he had to debate if he should knock on your door.

He could pinpoint the exact moment that simply seeing you had become an internal struggle. Before, what he had dubbed the incident, he went over to see you all the time. At any moment he thought of you he went. You signaled and pulled him in his own mind. You neve seemed to mind his strange hours because you yourself kept strange hours. Which made it so much easier for him to fall into that twisted trap.

The incident was rather simple. The bar had closed but neither of you were ready to go home. You sat on the curb shoulder to shoulder. A particularly bad poetry book had just been released by a rival small press and the two of you were enjoying tearing it apart. You were reading cheesy cliche lines back and forth, in varying voices. He nailed an impression of Bart Simpson that had you hunched over from laughing.

“This stuff is so cheap,”

Jason said skimming through the little book once more.

“Poetry is hard to nail, its hard to write, you have to at least give them props for trying,”

“But its a shitty try,”

“Then you try,”

You say with a smug smile and it is here that Jason is frozen on the concrete because he realizes how close you two are. How the soft orange glow of the streetlight caresses every feature on your face and as he’s trying to formulate a poem all he can think about is you. He stutters there and you laugh again, he feels your breath over his face, boozy warm breath.

“See you can't think of anything!”

Jason snaps away from the memory your voice faint in his head as he takes one last look at your apartment before scaling down the fire escape. He was about to cross the street when the special pager Bruce had designed for him started to go off. He looked at icon flashing across the tiny screen to see the blue emblem of Nightwing. He took out the pager and pressed on the little receiver button. Dicks voice came through like a radio DJ’s, distant but still clear.

“Look who it is!”

“What do you want?”

“Me? Well I’m just with Tim here,” and Jason knows before Dick has finished speaking that he knows. He huffs, slips on his jacket and turns away from your home. You watch him. You had gone to make sure the door was locked before bed only to spot Jason making his way towards your house. Disappointed, you watch as his figure fades away in the night. You try to imagine what could be pulling him away.

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“I can not belive!”

“I know,”

“I asked you to do one thing!”

“He stole it from me!”

Tim points to Dick and his younger brothers try to swipe at the manuscript he had begun reading again. But Dick evades them swiftly.

“Is Tim your new editor?”

Dick asks genuinely interested.

“No!”

Both Tim and Dick stop in their actions, share a glance at each other and then at Jason, who is refusing to face them now. Tim hadn't seen Jason this riled up in a while and was unsure of how to proceed, so he was thankful when Dick took the lead.

“This is nothing to be embarrassed about! This is like really good, its engaging, and it still has your signature fast thriller pace, it makes for good tension in the relationship,”

As Dick is talking Jason feels a touch of relief. His brother thinks he is embarrassed about writing romance, not about writing a romance novel about you and himself. He leans back on the big desk, head still looking down at his feet. He sighed. If he didnt rip the bandaid now it would only get worse.

“You fucking idiot,”

Dick stops in his ramblings about Jason’s writing to listen. Tim is still perched on one of the rolling desk chairs, happily awaiting Jason’s inevitable outburst of emotion. Tim knew his brother, and his brother's temperament was similar to a shaken soda can.

“I don't care that it's a romance book, its that its about, it's about someone,”

“Two someones,”

Tim adds in, holding up his fingers.

“What?” Dick asks and as the words come out it clicks for him. “Oh my god…you wrote….about you?”

“The main character is his editor,”

Tim said each word through a smirk.

“You’re in love with your editor? That makes way more sense,”

Dick says as he starts flipping through the pages again, this time Jason is successful in snatching it back.

“Who’s the vampire?”

Tim asks, hoping he can get it out of Jason.

“It’s their neighbor,”

Jason thought back to the first time you had mentioned your neighbor Jeriamiah. It was before the incident, the problem was that after the incident Jason could not help the pang of jealousy that jabbed at his heart. You had said excitedly that Jeriamiah had come right up to you when you got home. At the time Jason thought nothing of it, even when you called him cute. Now his insides felt like a cup of gelatin being stabbed with a syringe every time he heard the name.

Jeremiah didn't always seem into you though. He would want to come over, then he wouldn't. You brought him food sometimes. But no matter what you did Jerimah did not seem to return this interest to you, despite this you did not stop chasing him. Or talking about how cute he was.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

Jason does not know how to answer Tim because he all the sudden feels very stupid. He could do something about it? He is not sure why this had not occurred to him until now.

“Where do you think I should start?”

“You should start with this,”

Dick takes back the manuscript just to smack on the desk. God, Jason hated it when they were right.

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You're intent on keeping your eyes on your computer screen, you had been assigned to take notes during the morning meeting and wanted to finish it before you took your lunch. So you didn't pay attention to the caller id and were a bit shocked to hear Jason’s voice on the line.

“Jason?”

“Yeah, listen I want to talk to you,”

“I do to,”

“Can you meet me for lunch,”

“Yes, but I need to tell you this now,”

Jason feels his chest tighten, unsure of what you could possibly say to him. Your tone was somewhere between desperate and apologetic.

“If I don't say this now I’m not sure I’ll be able to get it out later. I want you to know though, that you don't have to work with me,”

“What?”

But you ignore him and keep talking.

“If me being your editor is what's holding you back from writing right now, then I won't be hurt if you need to work with someone else. We’ve been talking and hanging out less and less lately and I just want you to know that if you need more space from thats okay,”

Oh. He had unintentionally hurt you. His mouth can't seem to choose which words he needs to form first. 'Sorry', or 'I have something you need to look at', or 'I didn't know I was distant'. He settles on calling himself a fucking idiot.

“Huh?”

“I said I’m a fucking idiot. I didn't realize I was kinda avoiding you. But that's why I wanted to talk so come meet me?”

Thirty minutes later you're swinging open the door to the diner you and Jason frequent. The bell above the door rings and Jason looks up at you. You see that he has already ordered your favorite drink for you. You slide in the booth and the gasps that leaves you is loud enough to have the line cooks peek out over the partition to try to see what's happening.

Jason has put a manila envelope onto the table. You know what it is immediately. A manuscript.

“And just how long have you been hiding this?”

Your hands are already grabbing for it but Jason places his hand on yours stopping you. You look up at him quizzically.

“Hold up,”

You can not tell what he’s thinking at all. His face is almost comically expressionless.

“You are really important to me, and I care about you alot, and I've done a lot of stupid things,”

You don't move, only widen your eyes.

“Actually only two things but still stupid. First, I’m incredibly jealous of Jeremiah,”

Now that he had admitted this out loud to you he felt a ripple of relief spread across him. Actually talking to you was quite easy, just like it always was. But what hurt was the outrageous amount of laughter you managed to let.

“Jeremiah?”

“Yes! Are you kidding? You're practically in love with the guy!”

“He’s not a guy! He is a cat!”

 Jason’s face gets hot and red and he is trying to stop the hot sticky feeling from spreading over all of him but he can't help it.

“Are you fucking serious right now? You said he was your neighbor?”

“I mean he's my neighbors cat,”

“Thats different, that's so different, this is worse, this is worse than the worst possible outcome,”

“No, no,” you say trying to catch your breath and stifle the last bit of giggle, “I like it,”

Your words are like ice packs being pressed to Jason's burning skin. Neither of you can properly look at each other now but you are silently praising yourself for managing to be so bold.

“So I bet you’ll like this then,”

Jason now slides over the packet to you. Several hours later you will stretch out over your couch to read a book about you. About Jason Todd. And your neighbors cat.

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

A/N; Surprisingly I've never done something Jason centric before but he makes his appearance in my Duke centric fic over on ao3. He’s definitely a little more fluffy in this version but hope I did him a little justice. Also like usual I did not know how to end this :p 

[s-brant]

Angels Roll Their Eyes (2/2)

(gif: @toesure) (PART ONE)

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

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

Word Count: 24k

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

Hurricane Agatha.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you smiling about?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really?" she asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He isn't sure why she buys into it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

JJ misses her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Weird in what way?"

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

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

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

She sighs.

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

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

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

That part is the most fuzzy in her mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Gotta catch me first!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They tried.

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

It was simple in the beginning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What the fuck?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Because what?" he asks.

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

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

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

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

There it is.

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

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

Her heart sinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

He doesn't miss a beat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then prove it."

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes."

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

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

"Okay."

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

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

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

"Do I make you nervous?" she asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Internally, JJ is losing his shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"If you tell anyone, I swear I'll—"

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

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

"Promise?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's the one to break the silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I wasn't staring."

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

"Whatever you say."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you okay?" Y/N asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shakes his head.

"You didn't do anything."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's okay," he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

How could she be so stupid?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She is never skipping this song again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[issaxcharlie]

Something so right

Pairing: Alive! Luke x Fem reader

Summary: A date with the golden boy of the school reveals Y/N’s and Luke's true feelings for each other and they have no choice but to face what they feel. Who will take the first step?

(The fragments of the song are from Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift)

Luke Patterson was more impatient than usual. 7:30 pm and no sign of his best friend, the one who had never missed a Sunset Curve rehearsal in these two years that they had been playing together.

“Am I the only one worried about Y/N? She is not usually late."

Reggie slaps his forehead, a memory snapping back into his head. "I forgot to tell you she won't be here today, she said something about a date."

The guitarist feels a punch in the stomach, he tries to hide how bitter the news fell on him, but his friends know him better than that.

“A date? With who?” Alex asks, genuinely curious.

“Austin Grayson.”

“Ugh, really Y/N?” But of course it had to be the school's golden boy. Luke can't help not feeling insecure. Austin Grayson is everything Luke Patterson isn't, and that scares him. What if that's what she's really looking for in a partner? He just wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Nice, he really has to like her to invited her despite what everyone says." Bobby responds as he takes advantage of the short break to rest his hands. Reggie and Alex nodding in agreement.

“What do they say?” Luke asks, completely lost.

“Oh please, most of the school thinks you guys are dating. There isn't a day that I don't hear someone call her Patterson’s girl." Alex replies, and Luke looks even more lost.

He can somehow understand why they would think that, he always enjoys having her and feeling her close. Usually touching her hand or arm in some way, hugging her whenever he sees fit. Carrying her books in the hallways or supporting her at her basketball games, just like she accompanies them to all the band's rehearsals and performances, or how she sometimes wears to school the clothes that he 'accidentally' leaves at her home when her mom invites him to dinner. On second thought, it’s easy to understand the confusion.

You don’t know what is happening. Austin is sweet, handsome, smart, and yet you feel nothing. Forced yourself to laugh falsely all night, and couldn't help but think that it would have been more fun to join the boys in rehearsal, especially when they were only a few days away from Sunset Curve's first performance at school.

When you finally get home, you walk with your head on the floor, trying not to make eye contact with your date. Austin gently grabs your chin so you turn to see him.

A fake cough from behind causes you both to jump away from each other. You don't even have to turn to find out who owns that perfect timed cough.

“What are you doing here?” You refuse to turn around, but you know he's smirking anyway.

“It’s movie night, love.” You force one more smile towards Austin as you curse Luke under your breath, who emphasized the last word in that seductive deep voice he sometimes does when he sings and that secretly melts your legs.

“Patterson." Austin tries to get past the awkward moment by participating in the conversation, and Luke responds by approaching and placing his arm on your shoulder.

"Grayson. Thank you for bringing her safe and sound." He sounds sincere, and that makes you smile for real for the first time of the night.

“It was nothing... I should go. Goodnight Y/N, I had a great time.”

Luke lowers his arm from your shoulder and leans back, ashamed of his rare moment of insecurity and letting you say goodbye to the boy.

As soon as he leaves, you turn to see your best friend, who looks sadly at the ground, and you hug him tightly.

Luke has been through very difficult months, and it is easy for someone who is vulnerable to feel insecure, especially in situations new to them. Not to mention that you are definitely not going to fight with the person you love for putting his arm on your shoulder or calling you in an affectionate way, which are things that he usually does, guy in your doorstep or not. You decide that he showing a little jealousy for once is not the end of the world.

“I missed you so much, rockstar.” You murmur still against his chest, your statement only makes him hold you tighter. You can't help but think about how just hugging him for a few seconds makes you so much happier than the whole date you just had.

“I’m sorry for making a scene. No wonder everyone thinks we are dating.“

“I don’t mind. I couldn't wear your cool flannels or your necklaces if I was dating someone. Plus it would take away valuable time that I can use as the president of the Sunset Curve fan club.” He chuckles. You can feel his body relax and his heartbeat begins to calm down. He gives you a sweet kiss in your hair before letting you go.

Best friends walk into the house, and as Y/N goes to change into something more comfortable Luke sits at the kitchen counter to chat with his second female best friend.

"You have to do something quick, I don't want to have you here crying and eating ice cream while she's on some date with some graceless snob.”

The guitarist can't help but laugh. Y/N's mom has always been a music lover and one of his greatest inspirations. She gave him his first guitar and taught him how to play, always supporting him in each of his steps as a musician. She has always loved him like a son, believing in him with all her might and always blindly entrusting him with what she loves most in the world, her daughter Y/N.

“I know, I will I promise. What I felt today when I saw Grayson touch her face and so close to her lips... I never want to experience that again. I was thinking maybe at homecoming? Sunset Curve is going to perform.”

She wrinkles her nose in response and Luke laughs again.

"Yeah too much information, I’m sorry. And I know, but we have to start somewhere. As soon as we get booked at a good enough club you'll be the first guest.”

They both make a pinky promise and smile.

“I’ll make you proud someday. I swear.”

“I’m always proud of you, my sweet boy. I know you’ll do amazing things, just take good care of my princess during tours.”

“You know I will.” They pinky promise again and reunite with Y/N in the living room to watch movies til the teens fall asleep cuddling.

Homecoming day arrived and you don’t have a partner. It is not hard to imagine why, being surrounded by at least one of the Sunset Curve members 24/7, especially Luke who tries to be close to you as much as possible, as if he is afraid that you will forget him if you spend too much time separated. Which is actually something you like, if you are honest with yourself. Is not something you would tell him but feeling him close and having his attention devoted to you most of the time feels quite special.

The date with Austin didn’t feel right and only confirmed what you've been trying to deny yourself for months. You are in love with freakin Luke Patterson. And you are in really deep, loving the good, bad, fun, boring, charming, and annoying parts, absolutely every side of him. And now is the time to finally do something about it.

After the guys show tonight, even more girls will be raining down on them than usual and things could get really messy, it's best to make your move first. Inside your heart you know that he feels the same, and if he doesn't have the courage to act on it then you will.

The first and most important thing you need to do to get the operation going is to kidnap Reggie, Alex and Bobby.

After a little threatening session everyone sang about Luke's idea for tonight, which made you grin like an idiot and feel more confident about your plan. The surprise that he will get when he sees how you sabotaged his plan.

Convincing Luke that it was best for you to come on your own so that they would have more time to prepare was not easy, but in the end you succeeded.

He's not a suit kinda person, but you went along with him to get a dark blue one that looked unreal on him just a few weeks ago, and you knew he would find a way to wear it sleeveless so he will look even more irresistible. You opted for a black dress that fades beautifully to blue towards the bottom of the skirt and in which you really look pretty good If you can say it yourself.

Sunset Curve finishes singing the first song, Now or never. It's time for the song Luke wrote for you, but he turns to see his friends scared when he still can't find you in the crowd. They smile at him and start to play the song they practiced with you just a few hours before.

“The way you move is like a full on rainstorm, and I'm a house of cards. You're the kind of reckless that should send me running, but I kinda know that I won't get far.”

You walk onto the stage as you start the first verse, Luke is shocked for a few seconds but then grins from ear to ear.

“And you stood there in front of me just... close enough to touch.” He recovers much faster than expected and pulls you by the waist towards him, just the microphone separating you two while he looks at you with the most seductive face you’ve ever seen.

“'Cause I see, sparks fly, whenever you smile... Get me with those green eyes, baby as the lights go down.” He blushes a little and smiles while his eyes are locked on your lips, capturing every move.

After what seems like an eternity, the song ends and before you can even say thank you, Luke's lips crash against yours, and it’s even better than what you’ve dreamed plenty of times. All the people start screaming, but you especially hear Reggie and Alex a few steps away who sound pretty happy for you.

“Reggie, an issue occurred, I have to go, sing home is where my horse is if you want to.” Luke whispers to his friend, before effortlessly carrying you off the stage.

“Admit it, you just want to touch my legs.” You joke while he walks with you on his shoulder.

“I’m in love with a really smart girl.” You stay quiet, your heart wants to jump out of your chest and you don’t even want to imagine how red your face is right now.

The guitarist finally brings you down when you leave the building, and you both walk to the park next door, where you met when you were just kids.

"Do you remember exactly how we met?" He asks while taking your hand.

“Reggie and Alex teamed up to destroy you in a game they invented and I was the only one in the park, so you invited me to join your team. And when we managed to win you said that we were the best duo on the face of the earth, that we had to be best friends forever."

“I sound very intense.”

“You are.”

They both laugh at the memory.

"You were still right."

“When did you finally realize that you loved me?” Luke asks, smirking playfully.

“I've known for a long time, but I didn't dare to admit it until recently.”

He completely accepts my answer and sincerity and smiles at me.

“I always knew that we would end up together, you eat me with your eyes when I'm not wearing a shirt.”

His teasing takes effect and you blush just remembering him in that situation.

He smiles cheekily and then takes mercy on you and changes the subject.

“So, we are the best duo on the face of the earth, best friends forever, and now an official couple?”

“That’s right, handsome and smart. Nice.”

Both approach until their lips touch, the kiss begins calm but quickly becomes more passionate, his tongue claiming every inch of your mouth, his arms strong on your hips. You let this amazing sensations envelop you and you lose yourself in him, happier than you've ever been.

When you are with the right person, everything feels just right.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist:

@siennanoelle01 , @totomoshi , @kiss-themoongoodbye , @writerinlearning

[chim-chimchii]

Encaptured (Jungkook)

Genre: Fluff 

Note: A little fuckboy Jungkook for you all! I’m currently working on a social media au and I might just post the profiles so I can give you guys a sneak peek and to also motivate myself to work on it more! Let me know what you guys think! I also didn’t know how to end this so I apologize if it’s a crappy ending. 

. . . . . . . 

On Thursdays, the literary class met in the college library, and that was when Jungkook always had you look over his essays. Not only did he use that time to get his papers edited, but he also took this time to prod you about your weekend plans.

"So, are you going to accept my offer to take you to the movies this weekend?" Jungkook asked, resting his chin on his palm.

You glanced up from his essay. "Hm, not this week. I think I'm all booked." With a smirk directed towards him, you continued marking his paper.

"You said that last week." He mumbled with a playful pout.

"And last week, when I rejected you, you ended up taking that girl from your math class." You stated with a challenging stare.

Tongue in cheek, Jungkook chuckled, "Well, I couldn't let those tickets go to waste! I thought for sure you would have agreed." He continued trying to justify his playboy ways.

You scoffed and slid his paper over to him; red pen marks were scattered all over it. You thought that the edits you made to his essay would distract him from the current topic, but he pushed the assignment to the side.

"Y/n, when will you let me take you on a date?" Jungkook leaned in ever so slightly and smiled sweetly.

Your heart rate increased. His whole appearance changed with that one smile, and it was hard for you to hide the fact that it made you feel some way. Maybe it was time to give him a chance, and if it didn't work out, then he would finally stop bugging you.

"Okay." You finally answered after thinking it through. That one word took Jungkook by surprise.

"Okay? Are you saying, yes?"

Without making eye contact, you nodded and closed your notebook with a gentle smile.

"I'll pick you up at seven." Jungkook bit his lip to hide his smile and watched you leave the library.

. . . . 

The sun was setting, and seven o clock was right around the corner. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror that hung by the door and nodded in approval of your outfit. You tried to remember the last time you got all dressed up for a date, and as you tried to place a moment, there was a knock at the door. 

As you reached for the door, you hesitated. What if this was a one-time thing? What if he never spoke to you after tonight? Just because you turned his offers for a date down multiple times, it wasn't as if you didn't like Jungkook. You appreciated his presence in your boring literary class; you appreciated his jokes and stories. What if all he wanted was to add you to the list of girls he won over with his charms? 

Your thoughts were interrupted again by a knock, but this time it was a lot softer. You took a deep breath and twisted the doorknob. Whatever his intentions were, you decided to accept this date, so you had to deal with the consequences. 

Jungkook stood in the doorway with his hands buried in his pockets. His head was hung low as if he was half expecting you not to answer, but when you opened the door wider, he looked up. 

You forgot to breathe upon seeing him. Instead of the cliche leather jacket he always wore, he wore a grey flannel over a white shirt. It wasn't THAT different from what he always wore but seeing him wear light-colored clothing suits him well. His demeanor was different, as well. A timid smile replaced the cocky smirk he always had on his face. 

"Are you ready?" His voice came out lighter than usual; it took you a moment to remember this was Jungkook and not someone else. 

"Yeah, let me just grab my bad." You left him by the door as you dashed back to your room to grab your purse. 

. . . . 

It was the little things that Jungkook did that made you weak in the knees. As the two of you walked to the theater, Jungkook rested his hand on the small of your back. He maneuvered you to the other side of him; it wasn't until his warmth left that you realized he was making sure you were closest to the buildings and away from the busy street.

Your eyes fixated on him, and it felt like the world was in slow motion, and you saw Junkook in a new light. You wanted nothing more, but to have this moment last forever. Forever didn't come because he glanced at you with that beautiful smile of his.

"Would you be upset if I told you I don't want to go to the movies anymore?"

The world resumed at its original speed, and your excitement disappeared.

"Oh? Did you want to take a rain check or something?" You tried not to sound too disappointed.

"No, no. I just don't think I can handle sitting next to you for two and a half hours and not talk to you."

You sighed in relief, which made Jungkook chuckle.

"I don't know what you've been told or what you heard about me, but I'm not cruel.

You raised your eyebrow at him and smirked. "I don't know, I've heard some pretty interesting things about you, Jungkook."

You gave him one last teasing look before walking ahead of him. Jungkook tsked before jogging to catch up to you.

"So, are you going to tell me what you heard so I can prove those accusations wrong?"

Together you waded through the crowded street, careful not to lost one another. If he took your hand, would you pull away or let him have that small victory?

"You haven't said what we're going to do now that we're not going to the movies."

His hand grazed yours. "You're changing the topic."

Seconds later, his hand rested on your shoulder to guide you towards the entrance of an arcade. It was full of other couples, groups of friends, and people wanting to have fun. The atmosphere brought a smile to your face. You didn't even realize Jungkook had left until he returned with a bag full of tokens.

"I'll let you choose the first game."

Dramatically, you rested your hand on your heart. "What a gentleman."

Jungkook threw his head back in defeat. "Whoever told you that I wasn't a gentleman needs to stop feeding you lies."

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but you don't really have the best reputation." You explained as you made your way over to the basketball game.

You glanced back at him to make sure he was following and found him chewing on his lip. Your statement bothered him. The two of you exchanged no other words until he was standing next to you.

"Is that why you always rejected me?" His eyes locked with yours, and you didn't dare look away.

Rather than lying, you nodded. "Yeah."

Jungkook was the one to break eye contact; it was clear he was upset. He fished for a token and inserted it into the machine to start the game.

As you watched him, you inhaled deeply and thought about everything. You didn't want to be the reason the date ended in ruins. You were honest about why you declined his offers, but now that you were here with him, you kept thinking how different things could have been if you had just agreed to date him the first time he asked.

Without thinking further, when Jungkook reached for another ball, you took it from him and aimed for the moving hoop.

"You can't blame me for being scared."

Jungkook opened his mouth to say something but stopped as he watched you throw the ball straight into the hoop. Another ball rolled towards you, but Jungkook grabbed it before you could.

"I wasn't blaming you. I was blaming myself." He missed the hoop and ticked his head to the side, slightly annoyed that he didn't score, but as the game ended, he had one of the highest scores.

Together you moved in the direction of another game.

"Why are you blaming yourself?"

He didn't say anything, and you were afraid he didn't hear you due to the increasing volume of everyone around you.

"Because I got careless with relationships and dating, and now that I want something serious, my reputation is ruining my chances.

The corners of your mouth twitched into a tiny smile. "It's your turn to pick a game."

You weren't ignoring what he had said; you just wanted to think about it for a moment longer.

The two of you wandered around the arcade and tried not to lose each other with the growing amount of people entering the building. Jungkook stopped in front of a photo booth and let out a small laugh.

"It isn't a game, but it seems like this is the only thing unoccupied." 

"I think it'll be fun!" You linked his arm with yours and entered the small booth. 

Jungkook sat silently next to you as you messed around with the photo settings. As you sat back, your shoulder brushed against his, and it made it obvious how close the two of you were. You couldn't help but think back to his previous comment about wanting to be in a serious relationship.  Did he mean that he wanted to try and be in a serious relationship with you? You'd be lying if you said you didn't have feelings for him. The truth was, you had liked him all along, but you let the rumors about him cloud your judgment of his character. 

The beeping of the timer caused you to snap out of your thoughts. 

"Are you ready?" You glanced over at Jungkook, and to your surprise, he was already staring at you. The flash went off, signaling that the first picture was taken. Then the timer reset. 

"Your chances aren't completely ruined, by the way." 

The two of you looked away and to the camera, where you opted for a funny face. The camera went off. 

"What do you mean?" Jungkook turned to you again. 

"If you were this version of yourself all the time, you wouldn't have any trouble getting into a serious relationship, and any girl would be happy to be with you."  

You stuck your tongue out at him as the camera snapped another picture. 

"I don't want just any girl though--" He faced forward and held up a peace sign. "--I want you." 

Your expression changed in an instant, and it was captured as the shutter sounded. "Jungkook." 

He hesitated but looked your way as the last seconds of the timer counted down. You took his face into your hands and pressed your lips to his. The moment captured forever as the final flash of the camera washed over the two of you. 

[pipipinyyy]

Explaining why I have added every song in my entire and very long Niragi playlist because I can and because over analyzing him is my passion (I usually update it from time to time but I'll do it with the current songs)

Completely self indulgent post, but I decided to share to feed my fellow Niragi stans (*˙︶˙*)☆*°

This is entirely based on my view of the songs and how I interpret them while thinking about Niragi. I'm aware that most of them have entirely different meanings, this is just for fun :) (Also sorry if my explanations don't make much sense, English is not my first language and I might make mistakes when trying to put my feelings and thoughts into words)

This may contain manga/s2 spoilers

Hayloft-Mother Mother: Vibes

Criminal-Britney Spears: The whole song describes him ("he is a sucker with a gun") and the fandom's obsession ("mama I'm in love with a criminal")

Daddy Issues-The Neighborhood: I feel like he would act like this, using the most vulnerable spots to pick on someone ("cry little girl, nobody does it like you do")

Psycho-Jin Dogg, OVER KILL: Vibes

Riot-Hollywood Undead: He'd definitely start a riot like he did in the 10 of hearts, burning and destroying anything that crosses his path

Bitches-Mindless Self Indulgence: He most likely thinks he's a total fuckboy and popular with girls since he can get almost anything he wants out of scarying people

Baby's on Fire-Die Antwoord: Vibes

Insane in the Brain-Cypress Hill: This man is being consumed by his own way of protecting himself

Wolf in Sheep's Clothing-Set It Off: Based on how he feels towards the people who hurt him in the past ("Listen, mark my words, one day, you will pay" "You've always been a huge piece of shit, if I could kill you, I would" "Karma is gonna come collect your debt")

Death no more-IC3PEAK: Vibes

Gasoline-I Prevail: Sort of similar to Riot, ("So burn it all down, burn it all down, I don't give a fuck")

Toxic-Britney Spears: The whole fandom knows how much of a piece of shit this dude can be, but we still find ourselves liking/enjoying his character (to an extent), a toxic addiction

Nice Guy-GRLwood: As much as I love this man, he'd use the "I'm a nice guy c'mon" card just to fuck. If he wants to, he'll get it, if he doesn't, he'll most likely get mad

Dernière danse-Indila: Vibes

TRRST-IC3PEAK: Mostly vibes, I kinda see this song as how he felt the first time he killed someone on purpose inside the borderlands ("mama they say I'm a terrorist, I did nothing wrong but I got on the blacklist")

Saint Bernard-Lincoln: Vibes

Nowhere To Run-Stegosaurus Rex: Being with him at the Beach would either be ignoring each other completely or a game of tag, no inbetween. If this man wants to kill you, he'll get his fun time out of it as well ("You're gonna die, I'm gonna kill you")

The House of Wolves-Bring Me The Horizon: Based on how he sees life after being consumed by his current mental state ("Show me a sign, show me a reason to give a solitary fuck about your god damn beliefs" "What you call faith, I call a sorry excuse")

Smells Blood-Kensuke Ushio: Vibes

SIU-Maretu: Similar to Daddy Issues, don't expect this man to be a therapist. If he sees anyone crying or panicking in or outside a game, he'd most likely tell them to suck it up, just like this song.

Judgement-Kensuke Ushio: Vibes

MONSTER ENERGY GUN!-KevinKempt: Vibes + He for sure has an energy drink addiction, specially pre-borderlands

HURT-1 800 PAIN: Vibes

Fear Is The Mind Killer-Zheani: Vibes

I Bet on Losing Dogs: Based on how I know Niragi is toxic, and most likely unsaveable of his deteriorating mental state, but I still have him as my biggest comfort character ("I bet on losing dogs, I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place")

Emo Boy-Ayesha Erotica: He's been in an emo phase (and maybe still is), the lyrics are pretty self explanatory, they describe us Niragi simps perfecrly ("come on fuck me emo boy")

Crybaby-Destroy Boys: Vibes

The Fox's Wedding-MASA Works DESIGEN: Vibes

You're a useless child-Kikuo: We don't know much about his past, but judging by the unstoppable bullying he's suffered, his parents didn't care about him, or were straight up absent. He's been insulted by pretty much everyone in his past to the point of believing it and telling those things to himself ("You're a useless child, the most useless child in this world" "Drool in snot, dandruff, shit and piss" "I'm a useless child" "Nobody will save me" "I'm a lonely kid")

Take A Slice-Glass Animals: Vibes

Fighting With The Melody-Jimmy Urine: Vibes

Comics-Caravan Palace: Vibes

Rhinestone Eyes-Gorillaz: Vibes

Butch 4 Butch-Rio Romero: Mostly vibes, sort of how I think the most "peacefull" moments in a relationship with him would feel like, kind of bittersweet feeling

Suki Suki Daisuki-Jun Togawa: Yandere Niragi. If he's interested in someone, he'd go through an obsessive phase, most likely forcing the other person to "love" him. This man is so confused about the feeling of love that he's unable to tell when he loves someone or when he's obsessed with them due to his lack of attention ("Like you, like you, I love you. Say you love me or I'll kill you")

:(-The Garden: Vibes

Kitty City-Cyriak Harris: Vibes

Blood-My Chemical Romance: If Niragi went to a therapist, he'd act like this song, with his signature cocky and sarcastic personality (at least before he gets better) ("I can't control myself because I don't know how" "They can fix me proper with a bit of luck" "I'm the kind of human wreckage that you love")

A Mask of My Own Face-Lemon Demon: He feels like he needs to protect himself or else he will get hurt inside the borderlands by others again. He uses another personality, a completely ruthless one, even if he doesn't like it and hates himself for it, he doesn't see another way to deal with his fear, allowing his "new self" to consume himself. ("I'd wear that mask of my own face" "I look into my eyeholes and what do I see? A handsome motherfucker motherfucking looking back at me")

I'm a Murderer-Freddie Dredd: Mostly vibes ("I'm a motherfucking murderer")

'Cause I'm a Liar-Mcki Robyns-P: He would lie just for fun even in serious situations. If he needs to manipulate someone to survive, he'll do it his way, after all, he doesn't care anymore, he just seeks for excitement. ("Without emotion, without devotion. It's much easier to fake something happy")

I Disagree-Poppy: I don't know exactly how to describe it, but I feel like this is how he sees and feels the world and those around him, feeling misunderstood and going his own way ("If only all of you could see the world I see, then maybe everyone could live in harmony")

Personal Jesus-Mindless Self Indulgence: He has a superiority complex, that's for sure. I don't think he sees himself as a god, but I see him joking about it

Rainbow Factory-GLAZE, WoodenToaster: Vibes

Frontier Psychiatrist-The Avalanches: I kinda see this as Aguni taking the role of Niragi's "father figure" inside the borderlands, realizing he's turning insane and is unable to control him ("That boy needs therapy")

Hate it. Hate it. "JIGAHIDAI!"-WADATAKEAKI Kurage P: Jealousy. I can see it either in a pre-borderland situation where he hates the popular students in school, or inside the borderlands hating both Chishiya and Arisu. Jealousy takes over him constructing a big ego, causing himself to develop his superiority complex ("You see, I hate that popular girl!" "Does she think I don't notice? How she looks at me as if I'm trash" "I want to be praised" "I'm different from you all, I have my own ego! I'm not a side character" "I have zero common sense. I'm special")

Villain-Stella Jang: He knows damn well he's a villain, that's his goal after all, but what if someone took his point of view? wouldn't the villains be all of those who hurted him in the first place? ("We all pretend to be the heroes on the good side, but what if we are the villains on the other")

Violent-carolesdaughter: This is how I view an argument inside a relationship with Niragi. He's used to violence, to cause fear, and getting what he wants, so being in a healthy relationship would require a lot of patience and strenght. While he's getting better and suppressing those violent actions, there will be times where he accidentally uses violence or threatens the other person unintentionally, mostly hurting himself and his partner psychologically. The lyrics change between both points of view ("Don't make me get violent, I want my ring back baby that's a diamond" "She knows I'm a wreck" "I gave you all my trust and I told you just don't break it")

Hey Bunny-Baby Bugs: Based on how I think it would feel to partner up with him inside the borderlands and catching feelings for him while knowing the huge mess he is ("Hey bunny, what's with those evil eyes?" "Hey bunny, what the hell is wrong with us?" "Hey bunny, what if I loose you too? If I become the monster, together we can always be blue")

Kokoronashi-majiko: I'm pretty sure Niragi isn't able to see himself as someone able to love, even if he doesn't want to be alone (just like when he confesses this feeling while fighting with Chishiya and Arisu). If someone truly loved him and was willing to not letting him go, it would hurt. He can't see himself as someone who can love or be loved, so he can't accept the love he's seeking for in case that turns him "weaker" making his true self confront with the protective mean personality he's created. He could learn how to accept it, so he might want the other person to stay in the end, but it wouldn't be easy for him to accept it ("It's awful, I'd rather you destroy my body, tear it to sheds, do as you please" "No matter how much I'm loved by you, my heart is just one" "I don't know this, don't leave me alone")

Nightmare Parade-FAKE TYPE.: Vibes

Slipping Through My Fingers-Meryl Streep, Amanda Seyfried: Niragi seeing himself loosing his young, gentle and caring personality due to his fear, being unable to control what's happening inside, nostalgia and sadness kicking in ("The feeling that I'm loosing her forever" "That funny little girl" "Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture and save it from the funny tricks of time")

Kuroneko No Tango-Pink Martini, The Von Trapps: Vibes

YKWIM?-Yot Club: Him confroting his feelings of loneliness when he's left alone with his thoughts ("It feels like I care too much when I'm alone, oh no")

Romantic Lover-Eyedress: Just appreciating his physical appearance ("She's a killer, I love her features")

Wrecking Ball-Mother Mother: Based on how he sees himself as someone who needs to destroy everything in a way or another in order to be powerful + the fun he has with it ("Call me a reckless wrecking ball" "Let's break it just because we can")

Edge-Rezz: Vibes

Freaks-Surf Curse: Again, confronting feelings when loving someone, but not in such a painful as Kokoronashi ("I need a place to stay where I can cover up my face" "Don't cry, I'm just a freak")

Little Bit-Lykke Li: Vibes

6up 5oh Cop-Out (Pro/Con)-Will Wood and the Tapeworms: Vibes

PHONKY TOWN-PlayaPhonk: Vibes

I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE-Måneskin: Freaky time. He would absolutely love this song, definitely his type of thing ("You could be the beauty and I could be the monster" "I wanna touch your body so fucking electric" "I wanna make you hungry, then I wanna feed you")

#BrooklynBloodPop!-SyKo: Vibes

A Cold Freezin' Night-The Books: Vibes

A Pearl-Mitski: My most favorite song to associate with Niragi. Represents his evolution as a character. Creating an scenario where he is loved by someone,he rejects it at first, acting tough ("I don't want your touch") and then proceeds to explain why ("It's just that I fell in love with a war, nobody told me it ended" "it left a pearl in my hand and I roll it around every night just to watch it glow") the war being the borderlands and his new personality, he loved it, but nobody drew a line and it's getting out of hand. The pearl is the feeling of power, the one he has to remember when feeling weak just to feel something. At the end of the song it changes to ("Sorry I can't take your touch"), realizing that he wants love, but he's not able to take it or else he'll become the Niragi from the past

Problematic-Bo Burnham: Him acknowledging his problematic actions but not wanting to apologize because he doesn't feel the need to. He knows he's done bad things but he is going to laugh at it and be a sarcastic mf about it

First Love/Late Spring-Mitski: Similar to Kokoronashi, he wouldn't be able to accept love and how it makes him feel. He would think that he prefers for everyone to hate him and be lonely instead of sacrificing his tougher side. Also talks about how he's grown way too quickly for him to understand feelings properly ("So please hurry leave me, I can't breathe, please don't say you love me" "One word from you and I would jump out of this ledge I'm on baby" "I was so young when I behaved 25, yet now I find I've grown into a tough child"

The Other Side Of Paradise-Glass Animals: Vibes

Bodybag-Chloe Moriondo: How I feel about liking his character, confronting feelings basically ("Don't know if I hate you or if I wanna date you" "I don't wanna like you, I just wanna tie you up, then keep you in a cage and watch you sleep for ages"

Get Into It (Yuh)-Doja Cat: Vibes

Psycho Killer-2005 Remaster- Talking Heads: Vibes

HOT DEMON B!TCHES NEAR U!!!-CORPSE, Night Lovell: Vibes

INFERNO-Sub Urban, Bella Poarch: Again, another song that describes him pretty well ("Baby I'm the reason why hell's so hot" "Terribly like terrible, she's a villain" "Think I'm getting butterflies but it's really something telling me to run away")

Bad Morning-Omori: Vibes

Trouble Brewing: Vibes

Dueles Tan Bien-Bruses: Another song about my confronting feelings with this man ("You know what? You taste better than alcohol to me. You know that and you've got control" "Because you hurt, and you hurt so good that I don't know what to do")

And that's it!! This took me the whole day to write but it makes me very happy to be able to share it :)

I've you've read the entire thing, hope you enjoyed the character analysis! ლ(◞‿◟ლ)