#and like the 2 biggest offenders used me because they knew I was a good storyteller and wanted me to run DnD for them

[arrowpunk]

I need to make more artist friends for my health and wellbeing but I don't ever wanna come off as parasocial or only wanting to befriend someone just because I like their art

Do you see my problem here

[citrusandcyanide]

Can't Lose You | L.G.

Pairing: Lip Gallagher x f!reader

an. This is my first fic since switching back to this blog and it's also my first Lip fic. I'm So happy to be writing again :,) . This idea won the poll but I'm still cooking up the rest. This will probably be 2-3 parts long. First part is mostly just background, but still got some angst. Would love feedback <3

Synopsis. College decisions are being sent out. Lip doesn't want to go to college unlike his best friend who has her mind set on leaving Chicago and her feelings for Lip behind.

words. 3k

Warnings. Unrequited feelings. angst, smoking, drinking, and angry lip.

Part 2 Part 3 (final)

“I got in,” Lip said standing in the doorway of his best friend's bedroom. You were laying on your bed with a book in your hand when he appeared suddenly in your room. Sitting up, you put the book down and turned towards the door. You gave Lip a confused look as he walks towards you. He sits on the bed beside you before continuing. “MIT. I got in.” 

“Mandy’s application really worked huh?” You were shocked. The situation was almost amusing. Mandy had submitted five college applications in his name. She told you before submitting them, even going as far as asking you to look over them to make sure they were good. Of course when you went to tell her the plagiarism was evident, she cursed you out and left offended. It was funny that one of them worked, but part of you was genuinely shocked. This meant an escape for Lip. A real chance of leaving Chicago and the south side behind, to move on and up. You were genuinely happy, excited even. Lip, on the other hand, didn’t look excited. It was clear by his expression that he was shocked, maybe even a little proud. But he also seemed unimpressed by the prospect of what this meant for his future. 

“You going?” You asked, hopeful that the answer would be yes. You contained your excitement, seeing that he was still unsure if this was good news. 

“Nah. You know I hate the Red Socks” Lip replied, earning a scoff from you. 

“That’s bullshit,” you replied, smacking him on the arm with the book you were reading. “Well, what about the others? Mandy said she was applying to five.” 

“Got three rejections, but uh, UChicago let me in,” He laid back on the bed, using his arm to prop him up. “And I’ve been thinking of all the shit you said about College being important and all.” 

“And?” you said, now looking down at him. You were hoping he would say he was going. Lip was one of the smartest people you know, but also the dumbest. He had an amazing brain but had no clue how to use it sometimes. It was the cause of the biggest tension in your friendship. You were just as smart as Lip, but it didn’t come so easy to you. You were a hard worker, but only because you had to be. It was the only way you saw yourself surviving. To get into college meant an escape from the Southside life and struggles. It was important to you. Lip knew it. He had to listen for the last two years as you stressed out over formulating the applications. He also had to witness a few panic attacks caused by it. College stood on an almost unreachable pedestal, but nothing could convince you you couldn’t reach it. 

You tried your hardest to convince Lip to at least try for the dream, but he wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t try. And yet the opportunity still was handed to him on a silver platter, like everything good in his life. Here he was, being handed salvation, and he was still going to deny it. A part of you was angry at that, but it was useless being frustrated with him. 

You couldn’t help but think about Mandy. If he really was considering going to college, it wouldn’t be because of you. It was because of Mandy. Lip may be your best friend, but Mandy has had all his attention recently. You told him to apply to college. Lip refused. Mandy applied for him and now he listens. 

It just added to how much you wanted to leave. Everytime you saw Mandy, you had to endure listening to her talk about Lip. The two of you were friends of course. You were thrilled to see her happy, but it still stung seeing her get to Lip instead of you. Lip, the boy down the street, your best friend since your parents moved in when you were young. The boy who stuck by your side through elementary and middle school when it was difficult to make other friends. The boy who took your first kiss in front of the whole school when other girls teased you for not having it yet. During middle school dances, the one who would sit on the bleachers with you instead of dancing. Who you’d spend all your time with. The one who’d sneak you out of your house late at night to smoke joints under the L. The boy you couldn’t help but love. 

He knew it, and you knew he did. It became all too obvious in high school. Lip had started dating girls fairly quickly. He’d spend more nights busy with other girls. It interrupted the time you got to spend together. You understood he had needs and you weren’t exactly wanting to become fuck buddies. So you let it be, trying to ignore the jealous pit in your stomach. 

It all boiled up until one day near the end of sophomore year. The two of you had made plans to hang out at his house, order some food and get high. When you got there, he wasn’t home. Ian and Fiona said they didn’t know where he was. You decided to wait awhile. Debbie had recruited you to play with dolls. When he got back, you had helped yourself to a bag of chips and a soda. He wasn’t alone. A girl you recognized from physics class was strung on his arm. He freezed when he made eye contact with you from your position on the couch. You heard him mutter “shit” under his breath. Your gaze shifted between the girl and Lip. You were beyond irritated, but you refused to show it. Instead you turned your head to the tv. 

“You gonna introduce us, Lip?” You asked, breaking the silence. He didn’t reply. The girl did instead. 

“Um, I’m Jenny… we know eachother from class,” Her tone was awkward, but you could tell she was genuinely trying to be nice. There was a small giggle when she spoke “I’m Lips girlfriend now.” 

Your head shot back up to look at Lip. Your eyes were wide. He didn’t tell you anything about this. He hadn’t even mentioned her to you before, let alone give you a heads up that he was gonna ditch you to spend time with her. Lip avoided your eyes. You were boiling now and Lip could feel it radiating off of you. 

“You could have told me you were bringing company. I would have brought more weed,” You said, the bitterness clearly evident in your tone. 

“Gross. I don’t smoke,” Jenny replied disgusted. You raised your eyebrows and nodded. 

“Real keeper, Lip,” You gave him a sarcastic smile. He scoffed.

“Just go home, kid. We’ll talk tomorrow, Okay?” Lip said before telling Jenny to go up the stairs to his room. You didn’t move from the couch. 

“No, I’ve been waiting here for hours. You could have at least given me a heads up that you were going to cancel. I could have gone home.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m telling you to do that now,” His voice had grown agitated. 

“What is up with you lately? We’ve barely seen eachother and the one day you suggest we actually hang out, you ditch me. Not cool, Gallagher.” 

“Give me a break,” He said running a hand through his hair. His leg was bounced anxiously. He kept looking back up the stairs to make sure Jenny was out of earshot. 

“Like that isn’t what I been doing,” You sat up to face him properly. “I’m trying to be understanding, but honestly I feel kind of neglected. We’re best friends, I think our friendship deserve a little effort put in to it, you know.” 

“Jesus, (Y/N). I’ve got a gorgeous girl waiting for me on my bed right now. Can this PLEASE wait till tomorrow?” Blood was starting to rush to his face. He wasn’t asking. He was ordering. It was like a hit to the chest, but it only fueled your anger.

“Could anything be more important to you than pussy, Lip,” You hissed. Your voice was getting louder with every sentence. “Certainly not your friends because you would have kept your dick in your pants for ONE fucking night to hang out with them.” 

“FUCK OFF, (Y/N),” He was fully yelling at this point. “It’s your issue for waiting so long. I can’t spend every day with you. You’re not the only person in my life. You don’t get to control how I spend my time! Fuck, you’re not my girlfriend. Stop expecting to be treated like you are.” 

“I am well-fucking-aware I’m not your girlfriend. You remind me every fucking day,” you screamed. Your vision blurred as tears began running down your face. You scowled at him. There was a moment of silence as you both realized what you said. Lip grew confused, his face contorted as he was trying to understand what was happening. Everything became dizzy. You took a deep breath and stepped back. You quickly gathered your stuff, wiping the tears away from your eyes. “Moments like these make wonder why I even want to be.” 

Lip was silent. He stared at the floor now. You waited for him to say something. Inside you were begging him to say something. Anything, to cut your embarrassment. He didn’t speak. So you left, wishing you had listened when he told you earlier. 

“God sometimes I really fucking hate you, Gallagher.”  

He showed up at your door the morning after to apologize. You both sat on your porch steps to talk. “She dumped me after you left. She, uh, heard how upset you were. Said something about ‘girls support girls’ and left.’” 

You laughed a little, but didn’t say anything. You were still really embarrassed about last night. An angry confession was not how you ever imagined Lip to find out about your crush. You let him speak. 

“Listen, I’m sorry for how I acted last night. How I’ve been acting. I didn’t mean to make you feel neglected,” Lip said, fiddling with the pack of cigarettes in his hand. You both were facing the house across the street, refusing to look at eachother. “And I’m sorry I blew you off. I take responsibility for that and promise I won’t do it again.” 

“Thank you,” You said quietly. This wasn’t your first fight with Lip. You’d have an argument, one of you would storm out, but by morning the other would always be waiting outside eachothers’ doors to apologize. This was just another one of those mornings. The difference was now he knew that you wished you were dating. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have said that… stuff.” 

“Oh what? About wanting to be my girlfriend?” Lip looked at you and smirked. He took a cig out the box and put it between his lips. You groaned and put your head in your hands. Part of you was relieved he could joke about it. A bigger part of you was mortified. 

“We can like erase that from our memories. Please,” You pleaded. “I really prefer it if we never bring it up again.” 

Lip nodded. He offered you the box. You took a cigarette and reached for the lighter in your back pocket before lighting it. Lip took the lighter from you and did the same. 

“You know I don’t think it’s a good idea,” He said after a moment of silence. You looked at him with a pained look on your face. You felt your chest tighten. “The dating thing. I don’t like the idea.” 

“Way to rip my heart out of my chest,” You scoffed a little. You turned your face away from him. You didn’t want to lie. You felt your heart break a little at your words. There you were still hoping a part of him would like the idea. You should have prepared yourself for the rejection. 

“I don’t mean it like that.” He was looking at you fully now. “You’re too good for me, (Y/L/N).”  

“We’re good the way we are now. I don’t want to ruin that. If we date, we’ll break up, and hate each other. It’ll never be the same. This is better. Safer,” He continued once you looked back at him. “In short… I can’t lose you.” 

With that, you never talked about it again. Your feelings never dissolved, but you also never did anything about them. The conversation left you with some hope he felt the same, even if it wasn’t as much as you liked him. He kept quiet too, respecting your feelings. He never joked about it again. He kept his promise and spent more time with you, all until Karen and Mandy. You stayed clear of Karen all together, not wanting to get messed up in her shit, but Mandy was your friend. You weren’t going to abandon her because she started dating your best friend. She didn’t know about your feelings. No one did except you and Lip. 

Lip was the only thing tethering you to Chicago, but he was spending less and less time with you again as senior year was coming to an end. You tried to move on, but this boy was genuinely the only person you could tolerate in your high school. The prospect of college meant the chance to forget your feelings for him. If Lip left for college, maybe you’d both move on for good. You’d be too busy with college to bother with each other. High school was a nightmare with your unrequited feelings for Philip Gallagher and you were sick of it. 

“Did you get any news back?” Lip asked you. He was fully laying on your bed now. You looked at him and shook your head. 

“Few rejections, but I haven’t heard from my reach school yet,” you replied, shifting your position so he could lay more comfortably. 

“They’d be stupid to reject you,” he responded. He picked up the book you were reading to examine it. 

“Yeah we’ll see,” you shrugged. “I hear back from my dream school any day now. SAIC let me in though.” 

“At the art institute?” Lip looked back at you as he asked. “I thought you don’t want to go to school in Chicago.”

“I don’t, but thought I’d give it a shot. I enjoy the campus, and the museum is a big plus.” 

“You know I’d hate to have you leave me here, (Y/L/N),” Lip said, looking back at the ceiling. Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You shrugged it off and tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. He can’t say that shit. Not when he’s the only one who could convince me to stay. 

“If you go to Massachusetts, you’d be leaving too, Loser. We’d be even.” You sighed. “Besides, I got my eyes set on California. No way am I tolerating another winter here.”

The conversation ended at that. Lip stayed over until it was dark. Before leaving, he brought up a new topic. 

“You heard about the school dance next Friday?” He asked practically halfway out the door. You nodded. “Interested in going at all?”

“Are you not taking Mandy?” You asked back. Lip shook his head in reply. 

“She’s busy that night. I thought it’d be fun to go just you and me, like we used to.”

“And get high on the fields? Can’t we do that anywhere else?” You asked, grimacing. 

Lip scoffed and shook his head. “It’s the last dance of high school. I thought that’d mean something to you. For old times sake.” 

You smiled. You liked being asked to go. You hadn’t gone to many dances since high school started. It would be nice to have a night with the two of you without Mandy. You could pretend that nothing had changed since you were kids. 

—

Of course things had to change, and they were about to. You were at your mailbox holding your Berkeley acceptance in hand. The paper seemed to glow. This was it. Your ticket out of here. You practically fell to your knees reading it. Your hands were shaking too much to read anymore than the congratulations written at the top of the page. Time slowed as you began to imagine a life outside of Chicago. Your life away from the South Side, away from your school, away from your family, away from Lip. It was hard to imagine what that would look like. Lip had been by your side through everything. You grew up together. All your core memories involved him. Moving was what you wanted but you couldn’t help but grieve your time with Lip. But leaving was necessary, you couldn’t live ignoring your feelings any longer. You had to go. 

You stayed at your mail box for a while. Your eyes stayed glued to the acceptance letter until you heard a familiar voice call out to you from a few houses down. 

“You okay there, (Y/N)?” Lip shouts, standing in his front yard. His sudden presence snaps you out of your thoughts. You folded the paper up and shoved it back in the envelope before walking over to the Gallagher home. 

“Totally fine,” You half smiled, opening the gate to enter his yard. You tried desperately to shake off your visible grief. You just wanted to celebrate and spend time with your best friend. “Great even. I need a drink.” 

Lip let out a laugh and let you inside. With no further questions, you entered the house, grabbed two beers out of the fridge and made your way up the stairs into Lip’s room. Meanwhile, Lip’s eyes never left the envelope that you held in your hand.

[respectthepetty]

A public apology to Never Let Me Go's Chopper:

Sir, I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry that I mistook you for every other side character in a BL series who is jealous of the lead, manipulative to get what he wants, controlled by his father, and disingenuous to everyone. That's not you! You could NEVER! You're in a league with To Sir, With Love's Yang, and both of you will go into the BL Hall of Fame.

Just so you know how sincere I am about this apology, let me recount the ways I wrongly accused you of being an undercover red flag when you are actually the biggest green flag in these BL streets. Full disclosure - I misjudged you a lot.

You looked at Nueng at the conference and hesitated to follow your father when he left. 1a) You're always worried about your cousin and 1b) from the beginning have shown you don't align with your father's beliefs.

1a. When you found out Ben, who you knew couldn't reciprocate Nueng's feelings due to his homophobic father, was speaking to Nueng, you directly asked Ben what he wanted from your cousin.

Because you care about your cousin, and you want to actually spend time with him.

You let him know that even though your parents are beefing, you still love him.

You are genuinely happy to see him.

And when he asked you about Ben and why you are no longer friends (since the 10th grade *sob*), you warned him that Ben is distant, but encouraged both him and Ben to pursue their attraction AND asked follow-up questions on separate occasions because YOU CARE ABOUT THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE even if it kills you.

And that is why Nueng trusts only you unlike your father.

1b. You told your father from the beginning that you didn't want what he was offering nor did you cave to his expectations.

You also told him you weren't competing with your cousin because, once again, you actually love Nueng and don't resent him .

You looked away when your father wanted you to watch him punish someone.

You picked up the photo of Tanya and Nueng when your father threw it, and you directly asked him AND scolded him for ordering the hits.

I know you know how to use a gun, and I know you can aim very well. If you kill your father, I will light every candle and pray that you only know good sex for the rest of your life, that your bed is always the perfect temperature, and that your earrings never snag your clothing. Amen.

2. You have always been kind especially to Palm and Ben. You immediately went to Palm and made friends with him, speaking casually, and told him if he needed help, to ask you.

When you saw Palm at Nueng's house, you were happy to see him, and spoke to him. When you realized you offended him by telling him he didn't have to act like a servant in front of you, you quickly apologized.

You were also quick to apologize to Ben when you knew your words hurt him.

When you found out about the incident at school, you went to Ben and comforted him. You even grabbed his hands in public, looked him in the eyes, and told him he wasn't to blame (for being the victim of a public outing).

I truly thought YOU were behind this, but once again, you are the BEST BOY and put Kimlock Holmes to shame by solving the case. However, you stopped Ben from hurting Aun, and I think you even felt bad for Aun when you found out his reasoning for doing it.

You have shown that you don't condone violence but are willing to do what is necessary for the people you love (*whispers* please kill your dad) and will literally kick someone's ass.

4. You are aware you are gay.

I know this seems wild that I misjudged you for this mostly since this is a BL series, so everyone is queer until proven otherwise, but Chopper, you KNOW who you are. You aren't holding on to a secret. You aren't pining over Ben from a distance. No! You told him in the 10th GRADE that you liked him.

And when he rejected you, you kept your distance, but still encouraged him to find happiness with someone else because you want the people you love to be happy even if it was with each other.

You also complimented Palm on his body because, baby, YOU ARE A GAY MAN WITH EYES!

I can't apologize enough for not believing in you even when you showed me exactly who you were time and time again. You may be okay that Ben rejected you, but know that Ben now realizes the sun and the moon reside in your eyes.

The way he looked at you while you took the time to carefully go through your skincare routine when you said you weren't his type told everyone that this boy wants Nueng to come home safe, but he wants YOU to come to his home and make him feel safe.

Chopper, I love you. I don't even care that you are into cryptocurrency. Baby, your game is so fire, that you could tell me to shut up, and I do it. That's how much I love you.

If you pull a switcheroo in the final act, I'll forgive you. If you die in the final act, I will never speak of this show again. If you kill your father, I will never stop speaking about this show.

Stay kind. Stay sincere. Stay a confident gay.

And kill your father.

[lolotheparagon]

🔥 Hottest and ugliest/most bland MC and LI. Also favorite and least favorite otome game artwork.

Hottest MC

This is difficult cos the majority of MCs in Otome games who are adult women are so infantilised and spineless that it feels ewwy to find them attractive. One thing I hate is women being infantilised, cos it’s an actual trigger for me.

Either Seraphina from Peachleaf Valley or Teuta from Bustafellow since they are and act like actual adults, despite the weird artistic elements anime usually gives them. They’re funny, witty, sweet but know when to put their foot down and have a lot more agency than your usual garbage dating sim protagonist.

I would also say Kotone cos she is both a successful cafe owner and landlord but the way the story treats her and how the men are towards her, she honestly deserves a better game (with LIs who aren’t pedos or old enough to be her dad). She’s a wonderful character but I find her more cute than attractive.

I love Lynette though. Her design is so pretty and I love the more flashy 80s glam businesswoman look to her. She would fit right in with Jem and the Holograms. But again, she deserves a better game and a personality upgrade cos FOR FUCKS SAKE WHY IS THE MATCHMAKING GODDESS OF LOVE A CLUELESS INGENUE. SHE’S CUPID SHE SHOULD BE ABLE TO READ MEN LIKE A 4 PAGE PICTURE BOOK

Blandest MC

This is like counting every grain of sand on a beach, cos of the genre we’re in. THERE’S SO FUCKING MANY.

My top 3 would be:

The MC from Amnesia Memories, who I’m gonna call Maria, is the biggest offender. While Cardia and Ichika have some quirks, Maria has FUCKING NOTHING. Half of her thought processes and inner dialogue are taken up by a flying pixie in her head so we never get any idea of what Maria’s personality is like. And because this game uses her amnesia as an excuse to not give her any personality or agency from that matter

Cardia from Code Realise. What a WASTE

And Ichika from Collar x Malice.

Basically any Otomate protagonist can apply here, cos they’re all cut from the same bland UwU ingenue cloth and I’m SICK of Otome fans seeing every new protagonist and going “omg she’s such a sassy girlboss” when all she does is say no to a pervert’s advances. Like, that’s not sass, that’s basic self-defense.

Hottest LI

Mozu, hands down. Love how genuinely supportive and sweet he is. His design isn’t all that special but his personality really shines through. He’s delightfully morbid, which makes sense considering he’s a coroner. He spouts random scientific facts and statements about everything he sees like Sheldon Cooper and even in other routes, he considers Teuta his friend and always treats her with respect. He’s such a good man and I love how even his trauma regarding his sister’s death doesn’t affect his relationship with Teuta. Teuta does feel like a comforting angel in that game but after seeing the roles being reversed in Bustafellows 2, it’s great to see Mozu be the one comforting Teuta with her problems. Also the fact that Mozu is currently seeing a therapist to deal with his trauma so he can be a better boyfriend to Teuta is so 🥹

The only things I didn’t like about him was a moment where he awkwardly kabedons Teuta when he was depressed thinking about the investigation of his sister’s possible death and wanted to flirt with Teuta in the only way he knew how to take his mind of things. That was…weird. It felt like that scene was only there just so Kohaku can draw a kabedon scene. To be fair, Mozu is not well versed in romantic language at all and is very autism-coded so I give him some slack as the scene comes off as someone who clearly didn’t know how to process his emotions properly. Once Teuta explains that’s not cool, he immediately backs off, apologises and promises to ask next time.

Also he slapped Teuta when she was feeling out about a fire in the school and a little girl is trapped in there. I know it was meant to be a “pull yourself together” slap and I’ve seen this trope in a bunch of shows, not just anime. But it’s still weird.

Worst LI

Takeru Sasazuka. I used to love this guy when I first got this game and good Lord I regret it. He’s supposed to be this tsundere who slowly defrosts and becomes nicer to Ichika, but considering how much he insults her and calls her a dog as a “joke”, but it’s okay he hugs her when she’s about to fall into a mental breakdown or cries in a moment of distress, so he really does love her and I’m like fuck off.

He only softens up when the sequel came out where there was only slice of life stories and nothing serious was on the horizon, like a terrorist threat from the last game. He is interesting as a character: he has a hatred of guns since his mother was shot in front of him when he was a kid and only became a cop in order to gain enough power to reinstate a gun safety law since every individual in Shinjuku atm has enough guns that’ll make a Republican blush. Also he has very little family or friends and deep down truly wants to have people in his life, despite his prickly exterior. There is a lot of potential for a defrosting ice king character like him. But being deliberately unlikable is still unlikable.

This really goes to show how 80 of Otomate’s men work better as standard characters, rather than love interests to the MC.

I can’t believe I fancied him when I was younger, although that might be due to Daisuke Namikawa voicing him.

Also Shin and Toma from Amnesia Memories. These two are the childhood friends of Maria and they have a bit of a rivalry cos they both have feelings for her, but depending on either route, Maria’s relationship with them changes (like if you chose Shin, Maria would consider Toma like a friend and vice versa)

However, do they act normal to Maria? HELL FUCKING NAH! I remember choosing Shin when I first played this game cos I thought he was the most normal of the LIs, he had a tragic past with his father being in prison for murder and everyone considers him guilty by association, his only true friends were Maria and Toma and he tersely motivated Maria to become a better singer. But ALL THAT GOODWILL JUST PISSED AWAY cos Not only was he being needlessly secretive towards Maria after her amnesia (cos the game wants to be a mystery and the story constantly trying to red herring you with possibilities that it was him who caused Maria’s amnesia when it really wasn’t), and his design and personality just REEKS of good girls dating the emotionally abusive bad boy trope like it’s the fucking 50s. Also the amount of forceful kissing this guy did was just yuck. 🤮

But that is small potatoes compared to Toma. He is a yandere character taken to a disturbing degree. He starts off friendly and cheerful, then when Maria is stalked by someone, he offers her to stay at his home for a while. I think we all know where this is going. After using Maria’s amnesia to his advantage by lying to her and everyone about their relationship, he quickly stops Maria from seeing her friends, attending uni or her job, drugs her food, takes away her cellphone to cut her off from everyone. And perhaps the most infamously evil thing he’s done is lock the woman up in a “kawaii uguu cage of love” and only lets her out to use the toilet and threatens to rape her if she dared get out of her cage or leave without telling her. And the only punishment he ever gets is Shin punching him once or in Shin’s route, Toma brings himself in to be arrested cos he can’t handle Maria’s rejection. THERES EVEN AN ENDING WHERE MARIA STRAIGHT UP FORGIVES HER. WHAT THE PISS-SHITTING FUCK?!

Toma is a vile, pathetic piece of shit and the fact that he is the most popular character in the game and his serial killer behaviour is memed by Otomate as if it’s a cute quirk is fucking disgusting. I found out online that there is a CAFE based on this game and you can order a dessert that is a direct reference to that infamous cage scene. That is how much attention this character has. And yet most people in the Otome community think he’s crazy but in a lol so crazy kinda way XD but Toma’s behaviour is so callous so frequently and to such a triggering degree, its no laughing matter. I swear, the people who like Toma (even in an ironic sense) are probably Reylo/Catradora stans.

Fave Otome artwork:

Definitely Kohaku Sumeragi’s work on Bustafellows. She makes the typical anime style look so expressive and lively. She’s not afraid to make her characters look silly, albeit to some restrictions cos we need our characters to still look pretty. Also the amount of detail in each character’s outfit without it looking too detailed is brilliant. Although she definitely needs to work on giving the women more prominent noses and stop giving characters like Teuta the baby doll eyes and bulk up Luka a bit. I want my muscular women

Worst Otome artwork

Suoh’s artwork is so fucking shit. Jesus Christ. does she draw all her characters so young, it’s fucking gross! For example, this is the MC, Shino in one of the games Suoh worked on, Dairoku: Agents of Sakuratani. Shino’s age isn’t listed but she’s supposed to be a young adult. Also her character designs in general are so

DOES SHE EVEN REMOTELY LOOK LIKE AN ADULT?!

Worst off, there’s no lighting, barely any shading. Her expressions are extremely limited. Her colours are flat and lifeless. They look like literal cardboard cutouts. I don’t like to harp on the artwork too much cos I’m an artist myself but I have no idea why this woman is still getting work if this is her best work to date.

So, yeah. I hope I’ve answered all your questions, Yuisdad!

[spongebobafettywap]

you know after all the retconing and rewriting they've done to established characters these past 4 years that often contradicts all we knew about them and renders their motivation absolutely irrational, i ain't surprised that they'd pull something like that for nightcrawler which fucks up slightly less than 30 years (mystique reveal) and 20 years (azazel reveal) of his publishing history

what i don't get is

if the problem is azazel's character in nightcrawler's backstory (from the draco storyline),

why choose to entirely alter fundamental things about nightcrawler's life which makes some of his biggest heroic decisions overall pointless (giving up his place in heaven to keep azazel out of it since he was his anchor there + use his blood ties to him to clock him on earth) and make things more complicated and questionable about his origins by 1) giving an entirely new setting to nightcrawler's origins (cuz why the hell germany now, why the baron ...) 2) having mystique totally change roles, motivations and actions throughout the origins which goes against everything we've seen so far in main continuity and the alternative realities and 3) removing azazel completely

instead of improving on azazel's character?

there's so many blank spots in his backstory that could be filled, like a millennia worth of filling

we also don't have his pov on stuff... at all and a pov can give so much insight on someone's thought process especially villains

or hell you could reveal the draco was entirely from his pov and he preferred simplifying and seeing things this way rather than what actually happened (something people do)

it's not about making his actions redeemable here tho, it's about putting some dimension to a dimensional hopper's character and their actions

people complain about wanting to follow the "original plan" and doing anything with azazel now would lead to a lack of consistency, when what they call original plan wasn't that at all and consistency stopped mattering in marvel a long time ago with krakoa being its biggest offender

they literally retconned azazel into being a demon after austen's run ended and now went back to calling him a mutant like he originally was as if nothing happened

if i had to pick a poison, it would be that

This will be the last Marvel related question I answer for a while because I don't think the attitude of Marvel and writing of it's characters in such a pessimistic purely for shock value way is good for me to think about mentally. I am also going to make this a broader point about the Marvel/DC method of writing and rewriting and how it causes a stagnation effect.

I am not too sure really why people seem to think instead of trying to make a story work we have to go back and pretend none of the story happened, what is the point? Why should we read stories that go back and decide they didn't happen?

I guess when the goal is to have a series of characters who never age or progress beyond a year at best then you run out of new stories to tell. You have to keep going back and writing things over and over again because there is a certain point you cannot cross. But really I just feel like a story that has no ending is a pretty pointless one to read when it comes to a action adventure series.

I think in the late 20th century of Marvel you saw more of an effort to try and progress the story onwards and that whilst not always perfect at least resulted in it being a overall beloved part of Marvel. But I can't really think of anyone saying anything recently done by Marvel would ever have that same impact on them?

It seems oversaturation of comic books for the big 2 led to stagnation and retcon abominations over and over again. Maybe it would have been better for Marvel if they concluded 616 and moved onto a new universe, at least with DC the reality is always changing itself so that has a minute excuse of how the inconsistencies can work there.

Also anon I do think your idea for making the Draco be from Azazel's pov would explain a lot rather than the way they keep changing his character origins on a whim. But I don't know I don't really have faith in Marvel after what they did with Magneto and the Maximoff twins. I think Marvel is just going to be endlessly rewriting characters origin stories without there being an excuse like realities being reset in DC. They have a main timeline but with all they do it might as well not be 1 timeline.

And you are right that it makes the Amazing X-Men stories not have that sacrifice anymore which is a shame because that series at the start really felt like a return to form but I feel like Kyle and Yost kinda ruined it by focusing on Wolverine. (because we are all so starved for stories about him lol)

[maplesyrizzup]

Year in Review

Thanks for the tag @ksbbb, @thiamsxbitch, & @wolfboy88 RULES: post the top 5 works you’re most proud of that you released in 2022(not necessarily your most popular) Possession - (ON HOLD for health reasons). Lydia predicts that Liam is going to die. I’m very proud of this so far, I hope to get back to updating every month. “Theo let me in.” “no.” - Based on the prompt. Theo hears something from the kitchen and goes to check it out, finds Liam next to the stove with a pot: Liam what the fuck are you doing here? Liam: I’m making fucking mac and cheese. Theo: how the fuck did you get in here? I don’t think you’re an idiot. - Short Thiam Hurt/Comfort. White Picket Fence - random prompt: when the police came to announce you the death of your husband, you refused to believe it. “That’s impossible” , you said. “Unfortunately, it’s the truth miss” , answered the policemen. “It’s impossible” , you said again, “because he’s in the kitchen making dinner.” Best Birthday Ever - Fluffy Adrian Chase x reader.  Your top 4 current WIPS that you’re excited to release in the new year:  Pink sweater Theo: a holiday fic that involves Theo in a pink sweater.  I’ve cared for a long time: Liam wasn’t sure when he started to care, but he knew the first time he noticed it was when Liam asked Theo to stay.  Groundhog Day: Theo and Stiles get stuck in a Groundhogs Day situation and have to work together to find a way out. Thiam and Stydia.  Prank War: Stiles and Theo prank war fic. Probably going to be a gen fic. Your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing (or art) over the past year:  1. more detailed scenes, it’s subtle but I’m getting better at it 2. My dialogue, I’m pretty good at dialogue, I think it’s what I’m best at, and I’m still improving. 3. letting myself take breaks and coming back later to finish(?) Your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year:  1. to get even better at describing things. 2. to plan my fics more. The reason a lot of my fics don’t get finished is that I start them before I have them thoroughly planned out and your number 1 favorite line you’ve written this year! from chapter 2 of Possession.   “Hey, don’t look at me like that. We might die, the odds are against us yes, BUT don’t you think after all that’s happened that we would have died already? So MAYBE luck is on our side.” Now he was rambling and at this point, Liam was more trying to convince himself than Alec. “THIS IS LUCK!? HOW IS THIS LUCKY? BECAUSE I DON'T FEEL VERY LUCKY RIGHT NOW LIAM!” Liam squawked. Very offended Alec was now shouting at Liam when he was just trying to help. “DON'T SHOUT AT ME!” Tagging: @mayhem24-7forever, @bvcksmunson, @nptnewr no pressure!

[0-hoony]

impurities [ft. h.yj]

pairing : yunjin x winter's sister!reader genre : fluffyy w tiny sprinkles of angst cw/tw : kissing + use of caps/swearing + reader gets sister-zoned by yunjin like once ;-; wc : 1k !!

sister's bsf!yunjin mmm

she's been besties w minjeong since forever and your sister is very possessive of her

not to say that she isn't possessive of you !

she just wants the 2 main girlies of her life not making heart eyes at each other tyvm

but how can yunjin help herself from falling for you? you're so sweet, so cute, so pure well at least that's what she thinks; extremely different from her ditching classes, being stuck in detention 24/7, playing in a rock band self

you've always been her biggest supporter - always been there to cheer her on, to wipe her tears because she can't help that your presence makes her want to show all parts of her to you - the good, the bad and the ugly

so she drops in some a lot of flirty remarks around you, teases you in the hopes of seeing your oh so adorably flustered face as you struggle to respond to her way too suggestive quips

yunjin is always quick to keep winter's annoyance at bay however by also making sure to gush about "this gorgeous girl she's been talking to who she met at one of their band's concerts"

you're pretty fed up of this hot and cold behaviour of hers, to be honest

because how can yunjin go from looking at you like she could see entire galaxies in your eyes as she follows you around like a lost puppy to coolly ignoring your attempts to make conversation with her, droning on and on about how she has to get some other girl's number? and there's also the millions of times she's referred to you as the sister she's never had... :/

obviously winter ends up finding out eventually bc come on. yunjin really isn't that subtle with her ogling

but gasp gasp? she's actually really supportive! she gives you both her blessings to "finally fucking make out or something the tension is killing me ugh"

absolutely letting no time waste, yunjin decides to properly confess and get a chance to woo you how you deserve to wooed :( &lt;3

but,

seems like there's trouble in paradise!

because you're apparently going out w someone?! yunjin physically feels her heart breaking when she sees you hug a pretty girl w long black hair and her then kissing your cheek TWICE and calling you 'darling'?? she's never seen her around before and you couldn't already be this close with just a friend???

completely dejected when she explains this situation to her bsf, minjeong goes :O and then her face turns a rather angry (or flustered?) shade of red on hearing your alleged lover's description

she apparently knows who that girl is and she can definitely confirm that you're not dating her

minjeong sus. yunjin will confront her suspicious behaviour another day. but right now you're more important; if you were not romantically involved with that girl.. why would you pretend to be..?

as she sees you walk towards where the 2 girls were sitting on yunjin's bed, winter immediately shouts something about "needing privacy right now and claiming that you both must not enter the room at any costs and leave RIGHT NOW !!!!!" yunjin is pushed out the door to an equally shocked you

"isn't that your room.." you very cleverly point out "i've learned not to question your sister's strange, strange ways.." yunjin mutters back

she knew what winter wanted her to do, she could practically hear her menacingly excited laughter

so yunjin fixes a charming smile on her face and offers a little walk, just you and her &lt;3

you nod, despite there being visible hesitance written all over your awkward figure

the "little" walk ends up going on for rather long, seeming longer than it actually was, in fact, due to neither of you saying a word to each other

but finally when you decide to attempt some small talk, yunjin interrupts you, "why did that girl kiss you yn."

... this, quite validly, offends you, "oh i'm sorry am i obligated to tell you about each and every single person i'm romantically into?"

"uh no! of course not it's just um how could you just.." she's at a loss of words because such hostility from you makes her confident persona crumble so fast that at any other moment you would've laughed. a lot.

"i don't want to be talking about this with someone who thinks of me as their sister" you bitterly spit out, ready to walk away from her before the tears threatening to spill over your waterline make their way down your now heated face

as you turn, however, yunjin grabs your wrist and pulls you back, forcing you to fall into her arms as you desperately clutch her shoulders to not fall

"yunjin ??? WHAT do you think you're doing???" before you can push yourself away from her she brings her face so, so close to yours that you can smell the sweet, fruity fragrance of her lip gloss and forget running away, all you want to do at this moment is connect your lips to her ever so kissable ones

ignoring your question, her attention remains focused on her original goal, "can i.."

you move one of your hands to cup her cheek and and finally steal a peck from her but before you can let yourself completely drown in the feeling of her warmth, she pulls away and with a finger on your lower lip and continues, "can i please know why you were with that girl?"

dazedly you let the truth slip out, "minji's .. friend.. she isn't.. i'm not with her or anythi- mmph!" and just like that yunjin finally kisses you like she's wanted, hell, like she's dreamed of for ages now and you're more than happy to let all her previous actions be forgiven - as long as she keeps holding you just like this &lt;3

notes : for the ppl waiting for the yunjin/yn/rina fic mwah &lt;3 + [m.list]

[miekasa]

six thirty

+ pairing: armin arlert x (fem) reader

+ genres and warnings: college au, enemies to lovers… kinda… in a very nerdy academic rivalry kind of way, me being a comedian you’re welcome, fluff, smut/nsfw content

+ word count: 5.6k… pls say sike

+ notes: shout out to ryn​​ for listening to me during our very many rambling sessions and also for extorting me into posting this. consider it a late birthday present for my favorite menace </2

+ side notes: no i am not a part of armin nation and i never want to be, nor do i wish speak of this again.

Armin Arlert is the perfect student. Prompt and well prepared during lecture; smart and insightful during office hours; the apple of any teacher’s eye. Unfortunately for him, so are you.

If you asked Armin, you were a little too clever for your own good, and liked to make it very well known that you believe you’re the smartest person in any room you walk into. That may be true, but it doesn’t mean that he has to sit there and worship your superiority complex. 

If someone asked you, you’d say that Armin was a know it all, and a manipulative little piece of shit. Again, not a completely false statement, but perhaps a slightly biased character analysis.

Neither of you are wrong. It’s why you’re both the bane of each other’s existence.  

There’s a noticeable grimace on your face, chin in your palm, elbows resting atop your desk, as you turn your head to where, sure enough, Armin is seated where he always is: first row, right side, directly in front of the podium, like perfect little teacher’s pet he wants to be. He doesn’t have any books to unpack like everybody else because a shiny, blue iPad is propped up on his desk in place of all of that. He’s robably looking through his pre-written list of showboaty questions to ask during lecture. Like he’s a cut above everyone else.  

Maybe some of the other morons in this course, but not you, that’s for damn sure. You bet that if you broke his thousand dollar tablet he wouldn’t think he’s such hot shit anymore. Maybe that would knock him down a couple of pegs.

“Look at him sitting there with his stupid blue eyes, and his stupid Bieber haircut, and his stupid, shiny blonde hair, and his stupid fucking glasses. I bet they’re not even real and he just wears them to—”

“Did you just call his hair shiny?”

You snap your head to your left, “What—no, of course not. I said shoddy, he’s probably a bottle blonde. Maybe all the chemicals from the hair dye seeps into his head and warps his sense of reality.”

“I’m pretty sure you said shiny.”

“Shut up, Annie.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, “You got something against blondes? Because your track record would beg to differ.”

“Once. We kissed once, and it was truth or dare, and we were both sloshed.”

“You still chose me,” she reminds you, pulling her notebook out of her backpack.

You huff, ignoring her words and turning your head back to Armin, this time finding him twirling his stupid fucking expensive Apple Pencil between his fingers like it’s nothing. You can feel your eye begin to twitch.

Perhaps he can, too—or maybe he can just feel your eyes boring holes into him—because he turns in your direction and ceases his pen twirling the moment you make eye-contact. More students filter in, walking past your line of vision, but each time they move, you and Armin meet gazes again; neither one of you daring to look away, a palpable tension between you.

His eyes might be icy blue, but you can see the rose pink tint underneath his skin, even from the distance; a familiar blush that spreads across his nose and cheeks. You exhale with a silent laugh, breaking your eye contact before he grows completely red, just in time for Dr. Zöe to start the lecture.

Everybody thinks that Armin’s so brilliant, so smart, so untouchable. You know that his only genius is that he’s fooling everyone into thinking that he’s the kind, humble, little nerd boy who wouldn’t harm a fly, when that’s far from the truth.

Armin is mean. He’s competitive and possessive and snarky and sly. He’s the definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but you’re pretty sure the only person in the world who might believe that is Eren. Though, you’ve heard some of the insults Armin throws Eren’s way, and they’re not exactly soft. Granted, that’s a factor in any friendship, and most of his jabs are coated with a layer of intellect the brunette likely doesn’t understand, but that doesn’t make Armin any less sarcastic. It just means Eren’s too dumb to know what’s going on.

Poor kid. Maybe it’s for the best.

That’s all to say that Armin is nothing but a big talker—not even; a smooth-talker, is more like it. He comes across as perfect, all good and sweet and soft, because that’s what he lets people see. Nobody else looks through to the sharp tongue and ragged edges, because they’re too busy cooing over innocent blue-eyed baby in front of them.

But you know that Armin, the one he doesn’t want other people to see: the one that’s so good, he’s bad; so sweet that he’s sick; so nice that it’s cruel. And you know just how much pressure to apply to make his façade crack.

And you intend on doing so.

“I don’t know which formula to use—hey, are you two eye fucking again? Cut it out, I’m trying not to fail over here,” Eren exclaims, poking Armin’s shoulder with his pen.

The jab averts the blonde’s attention back to his friend, eyes wide as he blinks himself back to reality. He curses under his breath when he feels a familiar warmth creeping across his cheeks. Few things piss Armin off like the way he gets red in the face after thinking about you, or even just looking at you, for too long. Whether it’s red out of pure annoyance, or another feeling he tries to push down, it’s irritating, and above all, embarrassing.

He spares one more glance over his shoulder, to where you and Annie are sat a few tables away in the library. You’ve looked away by now, focusing back on your notes, but Armin swears he can still see that irritating smirk on your face from this angle.

He rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He should be able to keep it together around you by now, but he can’t, and it bothers him. You bother him.

“We weren’t eye fucking,” he refutes, turning his back to you completely, “She’s such a little know it all sometimes, s’annoying.”

Eren raises an eyebrow. He knows that you and Armin don’t get along, but he doesn’t understand why. Armin knows almost all your friends, and you definitely know all of his—Eren would even go as far as to say that you and him are pretty close friends—so it’s not a matter of not spending time together. You’re also the two smartest people Eren knows. In theory you should have more than enough to talk about together, but every time you’re in the same room, you hardly acknowledge each other outside of surface level commentary, or glances that border on staring.

Thankfully, the bickering remains in the classroom for the most part. Eren’s seen you and Armin go at, and he’ll be the first to admit that it’s beyond intimidating. Though, a little part of him finds it oddly entertaining, and he can’t help but to be impressed. All the more reason for you two to start playing on the same team. 

Eren thinks the two of you should get to the root of the issue already. Which, if you asked him, has very little to do with your rivaled academic genius, and a lot to do with your lack of it concerning your feelings for each other.

“She’s not that bad,” Eren vouches for you, “I think you two might get along if you ever spoke outside of trying to one-up each other in class.”

“I’m not trying to one-up anybody,” Armin rolls his eyes, a nasty habit he’s picked up as of late, “And if you stopped and used your brain for a moment, then maybe you could solve the problem.”

“I did use my brain!” Eren’s lips fall into an offended pout, “But none of this makes any sense to me! I fucking hate math, you know that.”

Armin sighs, feeling sympathetic for Eren as he slumps into himself defeatedly. He knows that Eren isn’t dumb, but math in any capacity is certainly not his strong suit. He also knows that he shouldn’t give Eren all the answers, but sometimes he needs a little push to get him there. A little bit of added guidance and motivation to keep him going. It’s either that, or he has to trick Eren into doing the work himself, but clearly that method wasn’t working out today.

“You already solved for the activation energy, now you’re supposed to use the Arrhenius equation in the expanded form.”

Eren’s lips fall into a small o-shape, as his eyes scramble across his paper again. “But—how do you—”

“There’s two measurements given for temperature.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah! Okay, right, but then—”

“You have to convert it to Kelvin first or it won’t work. It’s given to you in Celsius.”

Eren furrows his eyebrows together, and then it finally clicks for him. He mutters to himself as he puts his pencil to paper to begin to work through the problem, “How do I convert—”

“Add 273.15 to it. Make sure you put the bigger one first in the equation, or else you’ll get a negative error.”

“You didn’t even do it,” Eren huffs, angrily punching numbers into his calculator, “How do you know it’s right?”

“Because I took this class already,” Armin reminds him, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder, “Isn’t that why I’m tutoring you?”

Eren coughs over his embarrassed blush, “Oh, yeah, right.”

It’s quiet between them as Eren makes a final attempt at solving the equation, carefully and proudly circling his answer when he’s finished. He looks to Armin with bright eyes, and is content when the blonde gives him a reassuring nod, confirming that his answer is correct.

“Well that was a bitch to work through,” Eren sighs, stretching his arms behind his head with a slight yawn, “Chemistry is nothing but glorified math. It’s barely a science.”

Armin shrugs, but he doesn’t disagree. He isn’t the biggest fan of chemistry, unlike somebody else he knows. “Why’d you take chem if you knew it would have so much math?”

It’s Eren’s turn to shrug, slumping back in his chair and running a hand through his hair, “I gotta take all the pre-med requirements… just in case.”

“You wanna go to med school? Since when?”

Eren averts his eyes from his friend, a telltale sign of his bashfulness coming over him. It doesn’t happen often, but Armin knows it’s sincere when it does.

“Dunno. I’m not sure of it, just wanna keep my options open, you know?” Eren replies casually, “Doctors help make a difference and all that, and surgery looks kind of cool. Besides, if my bastard father could do it, how hard could it really be?”  

A gentle smile grows on Armin’s lips, “You can do it. If you really want to, I know you can.”  

Eren’s head snaps up, eyes wide and filled with affirmation and adoration. He relaxes his expression quickly after, but the pink hues are still present, “Thanks, Min.”

From his position he catches eye of another head of familiar blonde hair over Armin’s shoulder, and beside it, your own hair. There’s a flash of a moment when your eyes meet Eren’s, and you offer him a small wave before turning back to Annie to resume doing your homework. Eren barely gets the chance to wave back, but a dopey smile sits on his features at your kind gesture. It fades when he looks back to Armin, once again pondering the animosity between you two.

You and Armin aren’t all that different, you just need to get to know each other better. Actually, Eren thinks that you might make a good couple if you both stopped overthinking it.

“So, what’s the deal with you and (_____)?” Eren asks, bending his right knee to wrap his arm around his leg and rest his chin on top of it, “You act like she kicked your cat.”

“What?” Armin questions, flustered, “What—no, she wouldn’t touch Soup.” 

Eren quirks an eyebrow at that. “I still can’t believe you named your cat Soup.”

“It’s technically a nickname.”

“A nickname for what?”

“…For Miso Soup.”

Eren blinks. “Okay, if she didn’t mess with Soup, then what’s the issue? You scared of her or something?”

“Why would I be scared of her?” Armin asks, tone incredulous; then softer, more subdued, like a kid who doesn’t want to admit they’re wrong, “’M not scared of her.”

“You stare at her like you are—well, you look kind of angry, but also scared. Like, when you see those balloon things outside of car washes. You hate them, but you can’t look away from them—”

“I am not scared of those!”

“You are, and it’s okay,” Eren waves away his friend’s denial, “Oh, I get it—is this one of those things where she makes you nervous, so you respond with anger and sarcasm instead of thinking through your feelings?”

“You’ve been going to therapy for one month, relax.”

“Maybe you two should go to friend therapy and work this out,” Eren bites back, “It probably doesn’t help that she’s always with Annie. They both look like they would murder someone with no remorse. I admit, it is kind of scary… but it’s kind of hot, too.”

Armin spares him an unamused glare. Eren crosses his arms in defense, “What? I’m not wrong. It’s sexy in a scary kind of way, maybe that’s why you’re always eye fucking. I don’t blame you, she’s hot. I would let her and Annie axe-murder me without regret.”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and do problem six, I don’t have all day.”

Eren huffs, but flips the page to the next problem, grumbling under his breath as he attempts the, “It’s not as sexy when you’re mean, you know.”

Armin hits him silent.

Tuesdays are Armin’s favorite days because he only has one class. Sure, it’s three hours long, but it’s much more bearable than his usual eight-hour day.

It’s also the one class he shares with you. Which is why he’s always mentally exhausted by the end of it, but physically, he feels like he could punch a wall; all his pent up anger and frustration is channeled into his body and he’s desperate for an outlet for it. It’s a feeling he hates to love.

Annie seems to have cut class today seeing as she’s not next to you; and it’s almost as if it’s emboldened you to mess with him even more than usual.

He bites his tongue as Dr. Zöe enthusiastically uses your latest point as a segue into the final topic of the evening. He made that same point ten minutes ago. You just worded it differently—admittedly, more concisely, but somehow with a little more nuance, than when he had hesitantly proposed it—and, yeah, maybe you made it sound more convincing, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t come up with it first. If his stupid, fancy stylus didn’t cost upwards of $200 he might have snapped it in half.

You’re definitely the better conversationalist, that much he can admit. Words have never been his forte and he hates the way you can talk circles around him, and that there’s so little he can say to make you stop.

He wishes you would just shut up. In fact, he’d like to shut you up himself.

Thankfully, class ends sooner rather than later. Armin finds himself briefly talking with Dr. Zöe afterwards, most other students having taken the opportunity to leave early for the night. To nobody’s surprise, you’re not one of them, having stuck around to talk to the professor, too.

“The two of you should consider lab research this summer,” Dr. Zöe suggests ardently, walking between the two of you as you exit the lecture hall, “I could really use two students like you!”

Armin chuckles at his boisterous professor. He’s known about the research opportunities at their lab for quite some time now, and he knows that you have, too. “I don’t know that lab work is really my strong suit.”

The three of you come to stop at the hallway intersection, the professor now standing across from you and him. You give them a polite smile, “And I’m not sure that collaboration is mine.”

Armin spares a glance just in time to see you flash one of your own in his direction. Dr. Zöe’s eyes flicker between the two students rapidly, a slight squint to their eyelids.

They aren’t quite sure why their two brightest students seem to despise each other. They wish you two would just get along already, so that they don’t have to spend the summer training half-witted chemical engineering majors how to use basic lab equipment; and instead, conduct some actual research.

“Well, I hope the both of you reconsider,” they smile, “I’ll see you during office hours, I presume?”

You two nod in sync, sending the doctor off with happy smile, just long enough until you see that they’ve turned the corner further down the hall

“Had fun stealing my point earlier?” Armin questions, looking your way as you still wave mindlessly, eye-twitching at your polite façade.

“I would call it improvement,” you tell him, not bothering to turn in his direction; still and smiling waving like the professor can see or hear you, “You should stick to showing, rather than saying. You never were good with your words.”

Armin kisses his teeth together. He’ll give you what you want, if that’s how you want it.

In a fit of irritation, he grabs your moving hand by the wrist, and pulls you down the opposite hallway, not caring for your dramatic wailing behind him.

“Hey, Einstein, the exit is the other way, do you have any idea where we’re going?”

“Ever heard of observational learning? Maybe if you shut up for a second, you would figure it out,” he snaps, pulling you further.

There’s a door on the left that Armin knows is unlocked, and he’s quick to open it and pull you inside. Before you have the chance to glance around, he has you pushed up against the wall, jaw forced up and forward.

He could scoff at the small hitch in your breath at his actions, clearly a little too satisfied with being manhandled; but instead, he takes the opportunity to press your lips together. Armin quite likes the feeling of your lips on his; warm and soft and far too welcoming; a rare moment of silence.

“Someone could hear us.”

Or not so silent.

“Then be quiet,” he snarls.

Armin feels your fingers weave themselves into his hair, scraping along his undercut in sync with his lips trailing down your jaw. A groan falls from his when he feels you tug at the ends of the strands, just hard enough to force his face back to eye level with yours.

“You’re the one with the big mouth.”

“You’re so smart, huh. Always got something to say,” Armin lets out a low chuckle, deft fingers running down your sides to squeeze at your waist, “You can be really fuckin’ annoying, you know that.”

You mirror half of his ministrations, letting your right hand trail down his chest barely brushing over the very visible bulge in his jeans, before hooking your index finger under the belt loop, effectively pulling him closer to you.

The smile on your face is dirty, but you’re not laughing like he was, “Do something about it then.”

His blue eyes grow cloudy as he takes a good look at you; slowly rakes over your features, from that stupid, snarky look in your eyes, to your kiss-bruised lips, down to your chest, and back up again. Armin finds himself copying your smirk for all the wrong reasons. But it’s your own fault; you always did like to push him one step over the edge.

“Fine.”

Despite your twisted grin there’s a look in your eyes that’s eager; willing; ready for the taking. That same look you have when you talk over him in class; when you pretend to ignore him around your mutual friends; when you want him to fuck you stupid.

Armin uses his right hand to cup your jaw again, closing the distance between your mouths with a less than gentle kiss. He feels your groans reverberating through his body, waves of heat accompanying them and going straight to his erection. Your arch your back into the kiss, but he forces you backwards, left hand flat against your tummy.

Following suit, he pushes himself against your body, pressing his knee between your legs; the thin fabric of your stockings doing little to prevent your thighs from rubbing against him.

He swipes his tongue over the seam of your lips, earning a frenzied whine when glides his tongue across yours, and teasingly licks at the roof of your mouth. Your tongue is lithe against his, but somehow just as deceptive and sly as always, and Armin would be a fool to deny that he loved it.

There’s a spark flickering in his stomach when you push your center harshly against his; and it’s only ignited further when he feels you bite his bottom lip. A guttural growl escapes him, his right hand moving to your throat with practiced ease, pushing the back of your head into the wall.

He pauses for a moment, drinks in your wide eyes and desperate visage, “You are the single most frustrating person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

And he couldn’t get enough of it if he tried. He couldn’t get enough of you.

You must see through his words, into the grainy expression of adoration in his eyes, because he can see it filtering into yours, pupils dilating with both want and care.

“Aw, baby, I love you, too,” you pout, leaning forward as best to can to peck him on the lips, “Now, shut me up and fuck me. It’s exhausting being this pretty and smart-mouthed, you know.”

Armin dips his head into your neck, squeezes against the column of your throat with warning until he hears a gasp escape from your lips. He presses gentle kisses into your skin, in stark contrast to the increasing pressure from his fingers, waiting for one last request, and then, finally—“Please.”

He smiles, loosens his grip for a moment, just long enough to hear your pretty panting, before slotting his lips against yours again. Your moans are lewd and sloppy and breathless between kisses, and it makes his dick twitch in his pants. You really are so fucking loud. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He uses his free hand to push your skirt up, and subsequently dip past the weak barrier of your tights and underwear. The slightest flicker of his fingers against your center has you choking out a moan, and Armin is forced to press his right thumb harder against your neck.

“Quiet,” he reminds you, “You asked nicely, so I’ll give you what you want. No need to be loud about it.”

He watches you nod with short and restricted movements, a sadistic kind of power washing over him at your eager compliance. He uses his middle finger to rub slow, careful circles around your clit; the feeling of your wet cunt against his fingers, coupled with your wanton moaning only spurs on the throbbing in his pants.

“Armin,” you whine, impatiently; but he expected that of you, “Don’t tease.”

His eyes flash to yours briefly, pressing his lips to yours again to swallow your shuddered moans. He dips his tongue into your mouth at the same time he does his middle finger into your cunt. An obscene moan echoing through the classroom, as Armin feels your body arching into his again; feels your fingers frantically flying to his hair, searching for purchase to anchor yourself on.

He pulls away in time to add another digit and watch you groan underneath him. He pushes both his fingers in to the knuckle, carefully curling them upwards to elicit the prettiest sound out of you. He has to admit, it’s probably his favorite thing to hear come out of your mouth.

He keeps a steady pace, pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy with perfect friction, teetering between letting you moan his name and choking you silent. Your hands are frantic in his hair, grasping and pulling and so, so, desperate, Armin can’t help but to finger fuck you harder.

“You want one more?” he questions, but his voice is taunting, words ghosted over your lips just out of reach for you to kiss.

He can feel your leg trembling against his, see you pupils shaking along with your shaking head. Armin stops to smile; he thought you might do that. He could probably make you cry right now if he wanted to. Maybe later.

“Want you to fuck me,” your words short and ragged, eyebrows raised when he uses his thumb to press lightly against your clit, “Armin, please.”

The blonde shakes his head, “You’re dumber than you look if you think I’m gonna fuck you in a classroom, baby, so if you want to cum now, you better tell me.”

You have the audacity to pout of all things, “You’re mean.”

Armin lets out a breathless laugh. “You like it,” he leans forward to peck you sweetly, “So, what’ll it be?”

“Fine, but I want head later, too,” you tell him, words becoming less firm when Armin teases his ring finger against your slit, “Please.”

Armin hums in compliance, leaning forward to kiss you again, this time with more tact, and he chases your whines when he finally pushes a third finger inside of you.

“Look at you,” he croons breaking your kiss and forcing your head back again, “You take it so well.”

“Ah—fuck, there, Armin—there,” you cry, wet heat squeezing around his fingers in intermittent spasms.

Armin watches your chest heave with desperate breaths, air stuttering to pass from your lips to your lungs with his hand around your neck. He can feel your walls constricting around his fingers, feel your body shaking underneath him when he increases his pace. He curls his fingers again, just right, just until he hears you sing a strained call of his name. And when he feels your nails scraping down the nape of his neck, and the slight weight of your body convulsing, Armin knows you’re done for.

He’s nice enough to fuck you through your orgasm, shallow thrusts of his fingers bringing you to and down from your high as he watches you pant for him. He presses small kisses against your throat, up, up, up, until he’s kissing you, and carefully pulling his fingers out.

He removes his hand from your neck, and slides it down your waist to offer you support. He’s not prepared for your sudden pull on his neck, forcing him into a kiss that conveys your content; he’s quick to raise his left hand, palm meeting the wall to hold himself up against your sporadic actions, chuckling lightly into your kiss. You were always so reckless and happy after an orgasm.

You kiss him like you have him wrapped your finger despite being the one pleading moments ago. You do, so he supposes it’s not unwarranted; and he welcomes your flirtatious kisses despite the annoying blush they always bring forth.

And sure enough, he can feel his face on fire when you pull away. Armin scoffs internally at himself; he really should be able to keep it together around you by now. But when you kiss him like that, you kind of make it hard to think straight.

“You’re so good when you’re not… pretending to be good,” you hum, a blissful, hazy look on your features as you wrap your arms around his neck.

Armin shakes his head with a chortle of disbelief; leans forward to kiss you again, “’M not pretending. I am good.”

“Yeah, you’re such a good little saint that arguing with your girlfriend turns you on,” you taunt him, “It’s okay, Armin, you can admit it.”

He groans, out of shallow annoyance this time, and it makes you giggle. “Why are you acting like you’re not complicit in this?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” you refute with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, “You get turned on by hearing me talk about biochemistry. I like it when you tell me to shut up about it. We are not the same.”

“Yeah, because you look hot doing it,” he tells you, “Speaking of which, Eren called you hot today, so I kind of need you to slip a neurotoxin in his Gatorade.”

“Aw, Eren thinks I’m hot? Tell him I think he’s hot, too,” you bat your eyelashes at him, but Armin only offers you an unimpressed glare in return.

“I think he might be onto us, actually,” Armin notes, affectionately bumping his nose against yours.

“If he’s onto us, then it’s because you’re the one giving it away, not me.”

“Oh, because you could never do anything wrong, right?”

“Right,” you flash him an overconfident smile before reaching up to kiss to the tip of his nose, “See you’re so smart, baby.”

Armin shakes his head again in disbelief. You’re a handful, he can see that much.

“Come on,” he prompts, “We should go, I still have to finish my lab write up, and I know you haven’t started your paper.”

Armin tries to motion you forward, but is stopped when he feels your hand combing through his hair, and sees the genuine spark of concern in your eyes. “The one for your elective? I thought you said you were going to finish it on Monday.”

“I was,” Armin admits, “But then I didn’t.”

“You want me to help you with it?” you offer kindly, pushing his bangs back and letting your hands fall down the sides of his face, palms resting against his ears.

He nods gently, turning his head to press a kiss into your left palm, before wrapping his hand around your wrist, “I can help you outline your paper.”

You nod in return, and Armin spares one more kiss, before pulling your hand away to lace your fingers together.

Thankfully, nobody’s around to catch you exiting the classroom, or see you holding hands as you make your way out of the building and towards the bus stop. This was Armin’s favorite part of any Tuesday; the one time he could hold your hand on campus without the fear of getting caught by your friends.

He reasons that you guys should probably tell them soon, though, especially if Eren might have an idea of what’s going on. You were bound to get caught sooner rather than later. That, or Eren and Sasha would start meddling.

“If you think Eren knows, then Mikasa definitely knows,” you note, swinging your intertwined hands as you walk through the parking lot as a shortcut.

“Maybe if you actually remembered to hide Soup’s toys, there would be less evidence for her to piece together.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t forget when your midterms are, I wouldn’t have to emergency cat sit the hour before Mikasa comes around, and there wouldn’t be any toys to hide in the first place.”

“I’m bad with dates, you know that!” Armin pouts, “I don’t say anything when you forget about ten page papers until four hours before they’re due.”

“You’re saying something right now, actually.”

“That’s not what I—you know, you’re so—”

Armin’s quiet when he feels your lips pressed against his cheekily, “Annoying. I know. You like it. You’re not very good at staying mad for very long.”

Armin’s tempted to roll his eyes yet again—he really needs to quit it, or at the very least, get your own temper under control before it’s irreversible and completely rubbed off on him—but takes the opportunity to kiss your forehead, instead.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Your eyes twinkle under his affections. “And that you love me?”

He nods, “And that I love you.”

“And that you’re gonna fuck me before you make me write my paper when we get home, right?”

Armin chuckles and presses another kiss to your forehead, “We’ll see about that one.”

Hange huffs as they make their way through the parking. They always forget their keys in their office, and always, inconveniently park half-way across the campus. In their defense, this parking lot is free, and the one closest to the Medical Sciences building is not. So, really, capitalism is the one to blame for their frequent late night car lot strolls.

They hear two familiar voices bickering just as they’re about to step into their car, and are more than surprised to see their two favorite students walking together. Walking together and holding hands. Wait—you and Armin are walking together and holding hands?

Hange blinks for a moment, drowning out the sounds of the conversation after they see you two kiss. Their jaw practically falls to the asphalt and they might not blink for a full two minutes as they process what they just saw.

Their trance is broken when it finally, finally clicks together, and Hange has to try their hardest to contain their squeals before sitting in the driver’s seat, an overly forceful slam to the car door following. They waste no time fumbling with the pockets of their lab coat to fish out their phone, and make a call to their favorite math professor.

“Levi, I told you Arlert and (_____) had to know each other outside of class! I think they might be dating! You know what this means, right? I can have them both in the same lab without worrying they might start a chemical fire, and I won’t have to hire two brick heads this summer!”

Levi has never hung up a call more quickly in his life.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Father of Mine – 2/2

Character: Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: With the tragic passing of her mother, Y/N learns to the truth of who her father is.

Word Count: 4,100+

Warnings: absent father, subtle violence, mention of family death

A/N: The reader is described as tall in this fic. Bruce Wayne is 6′2 and I’m tall, so I’m indulging myself with no apologies. Read it or don’t.

Part 1

Bruce was working in the cave when Alfred interrupted him.

“Master Wayne, a guest has arrived unexpectedly.”

Bruce gave him a strange look. Hardly anyone showed up to the manor unannounced.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Alfred added.

“Right,” Bruce sighed.

“She’s waiting for you in your office.”

Bruce found Y/N pacing in the room, refusing to take the seat that he was sure Alfred offered her.

“Y/N,” he greeted, remembering how she disliked the formalities last night.

She whipped around at his greeting. “Am I your charity case now?”

He feigned confusion. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

She looked offended by his lie. “Don’t insult my intelligence. You paid all of my outstanding expenses that my mother left me.”

Bruce opened his mouth.

“Don’t try to lie to me,” she warned.

Bruce closed his mouth.

“Look, I don’t need your help,” Y/N sighed in obvious irritation. “Did you or did you not pay them?”

He took in a shallow breath, “I did.”

Y/N clenched her jaw as Bruce finally admitted his deed.

“I was only trying to help.”

“You can’t just throw money at me and expect it to make up for being a no-show.”

Bruce tensed. 

Did that mean…Did she know?

“You read the letter?” He asked.

“No,” she clarified. “But I figured it out.”

“I had no idea,” he tried to tell her.

“I don’t care,” she almost snorted.

“You have ever right to be angry with me…”

“I’m not angry. I’m annoyed.”

She took a defiant step toward him and crossed her arms.

The heeled boots she had on caused her already tall height to make her be eye to eye with Bruce. 

How many people had faced off with Batman and cowered with fear? 

But she didn’t submit or show any signs of intimidation.

“Do you think I cried myself to sleep every night as a child, wondering where my dad was or why he didn’t want me?” Y/N hissed.

Bruce didn’t respond.

“You think I give a fuck about the father-daughter dances? Or whatever the hell people think dads are only capable of doing?” She narrowed her eyes. “The thing is…I didn’t need you. I didn’t need you then and I don’t need you now.”

Bruce felt sick as he listened to her.

“I have the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t have been there for those anyway,” she added roughly. “My mom loved me more than enough. I didn’t need anyone else. And she made damn sure of that.”

“So I’m not your charity case to make yourself feel better after my mom made it clear she thought it was better to keep me from you, than to ever tell you that I existed. Says a lot about what kind of person she thought you are, huh?”

When Y/N finally stopped, she was taking deep breaths.

Bruce wondered how long she had that all bottled up. He didn’t think anything she said was a lie. Y/N didn’t need him. That had become clear.

She had grown up to be a successful, intelligent, and independent young woman.

And she got that way without a father figure of any sort.

After a few moments, Bruce finally bowed his head and cleared his throat. “I never intended on making you feel like a charity case.”

Bruce saw as Y/N took in a deep breath and the guilt slowly took over her expression.  

“Look,” Y/N sighed, “we finally know the truth. Let’s just…let’s just move on with our lives. OK?”  

Bruce couldn’t deny that the suggestion hurt.

After processing the news over the past week or so, he realized he wanted to get to know her. This wasn’t the first time a child of his had been dropped on him far too late. He had failed Damian in so many ways because of it. 

But Y/N was a young woman, fully developed and independent now. And Bruce couldn’t help but wonder that him being absent from her childhood had only benefitted her.

“If that’s what you want,” he finally told her.

Y/N didn’t know him well enough to hear the underlying pain in his words.

So she simply nodded and walked past him, having nothing more to say.

——————

Bruce adjusted his tie. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off his neck.

But he was on his best behavior tonight.

This year, the Gotham Gazette was given the honor of hosting the Pulitzer Prizes. And since Bruce and Wayne Enterprises donated quite a large sum of money to the Gotham Gazette, they felt inclined to invite him.

Bruce had every intention of skipping, until he found out that Lois Lane was receiving an award and Clark would also be attending.

He figured the least he could do was congratulate her and say hi to both of them.

That’s why he was trying to find them as soon as possible so he could and get the hell out of there.

Bruce finally spotted Clark talking to a woman whose back was to him. All he saw of her was the black dress and y/h/c hair. 

He made his way over.

Clark noticed him when he was a few feet away.

“I see you’ve finally left your cave,” he teased with a lift of his brow. “I honestly didn’t expect you to show.”

But when the woman Clark was speaking to turned to look at him, Bruce swore he felt his heart stop.  

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, clearly just as surprised at seeing Bruce.

None of this went missed by Clark. “Oh, do you two know each other?”

Bruce didn’t know how to respond. What would Y/N want? 

So he hesitated.

“I shot him for a cover once,” Y/N answered quickly.

She was a shockingly smooth liar.

Maybe she got that from Bruce, too.

But she didn’t realize that Clark could hear her heart rate quicken, catching the fib.

“And how exactly do you two know each other?” Bruce asked, recovering quickly.

“Y/N works with Lois a lot,” Clark answered. “She basically refuses to work with any other photographer.”

Y/N managed to force a smile.

“I should actually go find her and say my congrats,” she answered. 

“And I need to hunt down a drink,” she mumbled. 

Both men caught it.

Clark was rather taken aback by how she fled.

The Y/N he knew was always charming and kind, usually life of the party. He’d never seen her dodge a conversation in such a way before.

As soon as she was out of hearing range, Clark gave a intimidating glare to Bruce.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” He asked Bruce.

But Bruce only clenched his jaw.

“Past fling?” Clark asked with a somewhat disappointed tilt of his head.

“No. Nothing like that,” Bruce quickly corrected.

Not only did the idea make him feel sick. But if rumors started of the two of them being romantically linked, Bruce knew it would only make Y/N hate him more than she clearly already did. 

Thankfully, Clark took his denial seriously.

“She’s not my biggest fan,” Bruce added darkly.

“Y/N is a good friend,” Clark told him – almost in warning. “Lois and her have become rather close over the years.”

Then Clark smirked. “She does know how to hold a grudge though. And she’ll make your life hell...if you deserve it.” 

Bruce’s brain hurt as he realized how easily Y/N and his path’s could’ve crossed. She had been friends with Clark and Lois this whole time?

“I’m happy for her,” Clark added.

“Happy for her?”

Clark looked at Bruce as if it was obvious. “She’s being awarded tonight, too.”

How could Bruce not have realized? Why didn’t he think of looking at the list of people being awarded tonight? He’d been dreading attending so much that he didn’t even consider it.

“Bruce?” Clark asked with concern.

“Hmm?” He was not one to hum or mumble.

“You alright?”

Bruce didn’t have a lot of friends.

But Clark Kent was one of them. And him and Diana had noticed how Bruce was acting off for weeks now. Bruce was notorious for remaining stoic and giving nothing for people to try and guess what he was thinking or feeling. But they both knew it was something different. 

Someone over Bruce’s shoulder suddenly waved Clark over.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Clark told Bruce politely.

Bruce’s first instinct was to leave now that he knew Y/N was also in attendance.

But he knew he couldn’t act so cowardly.

Was he really that scared of his own daughter?

His eyes glanced around the room looking for her.

He spotted Y/N at one of the bars.

Either her conversation with Lois had been quick, or she simply used that as an excuse to get away from Bruce.

Bruce walked up beside Y/N at the bar.

He knew she felt his arrival by the way her body tensed.

“Had I known you would be here I would not have attended,” he told her while looking straight ahead.

Y/N ignored his apology. “How do you know Clark?”

“He’s a friend,” Bruce answered casually.

Then he allowed himself to take a sideways glance at her.

Her jaw was clenched.

He wondered what thoughts she was holding back.

Y/N really did remind him of her mother.

When they were together, Bruce was convinced she was the prettiest girl in the world. He wondered if Y/N had found someone in her life who told her the same.

“Congratulations on being honored tonight,” Bruce offered sincerely.

“Thank you,” she answered shortly.

A beat passed between them.

Bruce was about to give up and leave her be.

“Does Clark think I’m one of your one-night stands now?”

Y/N might not know Bruce well, but everyone was familiar with his romantic history. He wasn’t one to keep the same woman around for long. 

“No,” he quickly answered. “I made sure to prevent such a rumor from starting.”

Y/N finally slowly turned to him, her annoyance clear. “And you’re convinced that he really believed you?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, Clark has always been rather good at detecting a lie.” His tone was so confident that it left little room for argument.

But Bruce knew a losing battle when he saw one.

He dipped his head. “Enjoy the rest of your night. Congratulations again.”

But Bruce lingered, debating if he wanted to say what was on my mind.

“You look very beautiful. Just like your mother.”

There was nothing creepy or contrived about it.

Y/N blinked at the compliment, completely taken aback.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Bruce dipped his head and finally surrendered, leaving the party.

Y/N felt a presence behind her shoulder as he watched him leave.

“Was Bruce Wayne just hitting on you?” Lois asked with amusement.

“No. Not at all,” her tone was dazed and confused.

“He’s a good guy,” Lois told her lightly.

“Doubt it.”

“I mean it,” Lois insisted. “The media has given him a bad image. But I think he likes it that way,” she shrugged. “It’s not easy for him to open up. He’s not quick to trust.”

Lois thought she was building up a possible suitor for Y/N, having not a clue that she was describing Y/N’s father to her.

But Y/N was too busy thinking about how much Bruce sounded like her.

—————

A few weeks had gone by since Bruce and Y/N had run into each other at the ceremony.

It got Bruce to thinking: would he and Y/N had run into each other at some point in life – even without her mother’s posthumously confession?

Y/N knew Lois and Clark, lived in Gotham, seemed to know the same people through her work that Bruce was forced to interact with to keep up his persona.

Would he have sensed a connection had that been the case?

The possibilities kept Bruce up at night…along with the guilt that had already been eating away at him since he first read the later. And he’d read it 100 times more since.

Of all the boys, Dick was the only one that knew of Y/N’s existence. And if he hadn’t been at the right place at the right time, Bruce never would’ve told him. He had just been in shock after reading the letter that he blurted out the realization while Dick was in the same room.

Since then, Bruce didn’t linger in a room alone with him, knowing Dick would finally let all of his questions loose. And Bruce wasn’t ready to answer them.

While Tim was the one to connect them, he never followed through with what the situation was. He already had too much to deal with on a daily basis. Tim simply thought he was doing a nice favor for a beautiful woman. 

But if Bruce had told him, Tim would immediately do every possible background check on Y/N. He would be suspicious of the timing and underlying motives. He would probably assume that Y/N’s end goal was to get money or fame – or both. Bruce knew eventually Tim would come to the conclusion that Y/N wanted neither of those things. But it would still get an unnecessary rise out of the boy.

Bruce didn’t even want to think about how Damian would handle it. He knew his son felt a certain level of pride from being the only blood-son of his. Knowing he had a sibling – and an older sister at that – would most likely enrage him. And that wouldn’t make anything better. 

Jason…Well, Jason would get a kick out of Bruce letting down yet another child. And it would just be worse that she was blood related. He’d be curious about Y/N. Hell, he’d probably be tickled by the no-bullshit attitude Y/N had towards Bruce and her harsh efforts to keep him out of her life completely.

Now, Bruce sat at a Justice League meeting.

They were only a few minutes into a council session when his communicator started going off.

The boys knew not to contact him unless it was an emergency. So, he quickly excused himself and stood to leave the room.

“What is it?” Bruce answered, his Batman voice in full form.

“There’s been an attack at city hall,” Dick reported back hurriedly.

Bruce frowned. The boys had handled much worse things on their own before. There had to be more to it than that.

“Scarecrow,” Dick confirmed. “He released a fear toxin. It’s bad Bruce. The mayor has been infected, along with half of their staff. I think it’s a new string. Our antidote doesn’t seem to doing anything. Even if it did, we don’t have nearly enough for the amount of victims.”

“The others?” Bruce asked quickly – meaning Damian, Jason, and Tim.

“They’re fine. Jason’s trying to get everyone out before they inhale too much. Tim and Damian went after Scarecrow. GPD is in a panic.”

Bruce turned to see Clark had raced to his side. Clearly he had been eavesdropping on the conversation. But the expression in his face prevented Bruce from getting into an argument about it.

“What?” Bruce asked him, knowing something was wrong.

“Lois and Y/N were at that council meeting,” Clark breathed out.

“We’ll be there soon,” Bruce told Dick before hanging up.

—

Bruce thought he knew fear from the few times his boys had been in trouble. But it was nothing compared to the fear he had knowing it was Y/N this time. She wasn’t a trained vigilante; she was just an innocent civilian. Bruce had not insured that she was trained and could take care of herself.

As soon as Clark dropped them on the ground, they were in the midst of the chaos.

“Lois!” Clark yelled.

People were too distracted to notice Superman and Batman had arrived.

Bruce looked over to see Lois rushing to Clark. He could tell it took all of Clark’s willpower not to embrace Lois from his relief.

“Are you OK?” Clark asked as he dipped his head and his eyes raced across his wife’s body.

“I-I’m fine. I got lucky. Somehow I was out of range of the gas explosion.”

“Y/N?” Bruce interrupted. “Did you see Y/N?”

“She was helping these kids get out and I was getting shoved out of the building. I tried to get to her but it was impossible with everyone’s panic. I think she’s still in there.”

Before Bruce could turn to Clark to come up with a plan, Clark flew into the building. A few people finally noticed the presence of superheroes and started murmuring.

“Nightwing, Red Hood – I’m at the front entrance of City Hall.”

Clark flew back to them not even 30 seconds later.

Y/N was unconscious in his arms.

“Oh my god,” Lois muttered at Y/N’s condition.

“She’s gone into shock. We need to get her to the medics,” Clark informed them. “She was exposed to the toxin more than the others.”

But Bruce was already shaking his head. “They won’t be able to help her.”

Clark gently handed Y/N to Bruce as he explained, “There are others in there.”

Just then Nightwing and Red Hood dropped in front of them.

Nightwing immediately recognized Y/N and his eyes shot up to Bruce with worry.

“Nightwing, I need you to take her back to the cave,” he tried to sound as controlled as possible.

Bruce was confused why Dick hesitated to take Y/N out of his arms.

“Do you have the batmobile? I brought my motorcycle,” Dick sounded apologetic when he explained.

Jason stepped forward before Bruce could answer. “I got her.”

As if she were the most fragile being ever, Jason carefully took Y/N’s unconscious body from Bruce’s grip. He could see in Bruce’s gaze that she was someone special. How and why, Jason would figure out later. 

Jason had seen Y/N trying to help as many people before she was completely poisoned from the toxin. She’d risked her life to help. 

Watching Jason cradle her into his body caught Clark off guard, always seeing the brute strength and almost animalistic energy from Red Hood whenever they so happened to fight beside each other.

“Meet us at the cave,” Bruce clarified. “Alfred will know what to do. We have to help out here more.”

Jason nodded before he hurried away with her and rushed to his hidden car.  

——————

Y/N’s eyes snapped open and she shot up, sitting in a cot.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a voice she didn’t recognize said beside her. “You gotta relax.”

She turned to see a mammoth of a man sitting beside her, wearing vigilante gear with at least two guns being displayed at his sides. But it was the red helmet completely hiding his face and true voice that made Y/N feel uncomfortable.

“What the fuck,” she groaned at the sight of him.

Just a few seconds later, two men rushed into the room.

Bruce walked in still in his Batman uniform, but without his cowl – to Jason’s shock.

Clark was beside him, making Jason confused as to why he was still here. Surely he would want to be with Lois. 

Y/N took in the sight before her.

“You were poisoned with a new strand of Scarecrow’s toxin,” Superman explained.

Y/N had seen plenty of pictures and shaky video of him. But now that the man stood before her, she immediately recognized him.

“Clark?” She gasped.

He didn’t say anything. But his expression didn’t fight her realization, just silently waited for the truth to settle.

“Does Lois know?” Was her next question.

Clark smirked at that. “Of course.”

Y/N gave a slight nod.

But now her attention switched to Bruce. 

The Batman symbol was large across his chest, and his cape was still intact.

She looked around her surroundings and then up at the ceiling.

They were in a cave.

“You’re…you’re…” she couldn’t finish her sentence.

“Batman,” Bruce finally offered.

Y/N’s eyes were wide with panic.

How was this possible?

Now that the others had exposed their identity, Jason felt inclined to take off his helmet. Clearly, it was making her uncomfortable.

The hiss of his helmet being removed caused Y/N to finally look away from her father and to Jason, who still wore a domino mask. But it was far less frightening than the helmet.

“We’ll give you two a moment alone,” Clark spoke for both him and Jason.

Jason nodded and stood up from the seat beside Y/N, and walked out. 

Clark lingered in the doorway. “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he told her.

He might’ve revealed his Superman identity to her, but she was still his friend.

Y/N managed to nod in thanks, but was clearly still shook by all this news.

Bruce very slowly made his way to the chair that Jason had just been sitting in.

“How are you feeling?”

She shook her head. “Body’s sore. Migraine is killing me. What happened?”

“You were more exposed to the toxin more than the other victims. Jason brought you here. We had to make a new anecdote, and quickly.”

Bruce wanted to add that she could’ve died. But he didn’t see the use in scaring her.

“Oh,” was all she managed to mumble.

An awkward silence settled between them.

“Very few people know the truth about me,” Bruce explained.

Y/N’s gaze flickered up from her lap to look at him.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I figured I couldn’t ask you to allow me into your world if I didn’t allow you into mine.”

She was silent.

“Y/N…” Bruce cleared his throat. The time had come. “The reason I left your mother was because I was starting this life. I pushed her away to protect her. I knew I couldn’t be the man she deserved while also being Batman. Had I known the truth…”

His words died out. It was starting to become harder to control his emotions.

He leaned forward in his chair, just getting slightly closer to her.

“Had I known about you, I would’ve…” He cleared his throat to try and hold back his tears. “I never would’ve abandoned you or your mother.”

He leaned back then. “But I know those are just words. And to you, they probably sound like empty promises for the past.”

“She never knew?” Y/N whispered.

In the few moments she was allowed to process this information, her mind immediately wondered if her mom had known about Bruce’s double life all along. And that’s why she kept him away from her.

Bruce shook his head.

“Thank you…for trusting me enough to tell me your secret,” Y/N finally told him. “I promise I’ll never tell anyone,” she quickly added, feeling like she just needed to clarify that to him.

He gave her a small small, “I know.”

Y/N winced as she thought about how terrible she’d been to him all this time. Now that she knew the truth – the whole truth – she was looking at everything with a new perspective. Even what she knew about Bruce Wayne, the spoiled socialite... it was clearly all wrong. 

He used it as a cover. It was all a cover.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you,” she whispered shakily.

But Bruce shook his head before she could even get the apology out.

“Do you think it’s too late for us?” She breathed. 

Could they ever find any fragment of a father-daughter relationship?

Y/N was an adult – she had been for years now. And she made it clear she didn’t need nor want a father.

“Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me,” Bruce sighed.

Her brow furrowed. “This meaning…?”

“My son, Damian. His mother kept him a secret from me. She didn’t reveal his existence until he was nine. And she only did it in an attempt to disrupt my life.”

“This seems to be a rather strange pattern in your life,” Y/N couldn’t help but point out.

Bruce glared at her, causing her to chuckle.

“My point is,” he continued, “I don’t think it’s ever too late.” And he cleared his throat quickly. “That is, if you want to try.”

“I think I do,” she answered with a shy smile.

It was the first time she’d done so in his presence.

“I don’t know anything about raising a daughter,” Bruce rubbed his face as he attempted to make the joke. But she could tell there was sincerity there, too.

“Well, I’ve already been raised,” Y/N laughed.

There.

That laugh.

It brought Bruce back to his teenage years. It sounded so much like her mother. Her face lit up just like her’s had.

“You remind me so much of your mother,” he gasped.

Her face dropped at his confession.

“Really?”

He nodded. “She said you were just like me. But there’s more of her in you than I think she ever realized.”

Bruce saw his much his words effected her.

Y/N’s eyes were shiny with tears, but she managed to hold them back.

“So what now?” She quickly asked, obviously trying to distract herself so she wouldn’t have a complete emotional breakdown.

“Well, Alfred should have dinner ready soon. Would you stay?”

She gave him a tear-filled smile. “I’d like that.”

“You can meet the rest of them,” Bruce told her casually as he stood.

“The rest of them?”

He nodded. “Well, you only have to meet Damian now. You already met Jason, Dick, and Tim in passing.”

“And here I thought you had no idea how to be a father…” Y/N muttered with amusement.

Bruce helped her get out of bed, making sure she was alright to stand and walk on her own.

“Well, depending on which of them you ask, they might tell you that you’re right.”

--------------------

Thank you to everyone who read the first part. Let me know what you think <3

BONUS: This Game of Ours

[helpimhyperfixating]

Photos and Crushes - Cowboy AU Jotaro x Reader P2

Part 1  |  Part 2  |  Part 3

Word Count: 11488

“I’m not coming here again, that is clear.” Jotaro grumbled as he dusted his jacket off. You were standing beside him, giggling a little as you watched his disgruntled look.

The sun was setting and all the children had just left, finally giving Jotaro some respite.

“Ahw.” You pouted playfully, helping him dust off his back a bit. Jotaro sighed and rolled his eyes at your fake sadness, just grabbing your wrist and starting to drag you away from the church with him as you waved back at the nun, darkness slowly starting to set in.

Jotaro soon released your wrist and the two of you were now walking side by side.

“Thank you for today.”

“Hm?” Jotaro hummed, pretending to not know what you were talking about.

“For everything you did. Putting up with the children, helping cheer them up. And especially... with those riders, of course.” You bashfully glanced at him through your eyelashes, only looking at him from the corner of your eyes.

“It’s fine.” Jotaro grunted and you almost couldn’t understand him with how heavy the grumble in his voice was.

“No, really. You saved me again.” You stopped him with a hand on his arm and Jotaro turned around to look at you with a questioning look. “How can I make it up to you? I feel like merely a drink isn’t good enough this time.” You chuckled sweetly at your own callback and Jotaro felt his throat close up a bit, wanting to clear it but not wanting to come across as awkward.

“Come riding with me tomorrow.”

It was a simple sentence but neither of you knew how flustered the other was with those mere words hanging in the air.

“Alright. I’d love to.” You spoke after a bit, finally having found your courage to answer while holding a mini panic attack and celebration inside your head and chest.

Jotaro on the other hand was having a small existential crisis.

Both of you were lost in your own heads as you continued walking and quickly, the fork in the road where you split up came. You cleared your throat and turned to him. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow then?” You questioned and Jotaro nodded.

“I’ll come by at nine.” He spoke, oozing his usual calm and stoic confidant look. You nodded a little shyly and quickly stood on your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek before taking off in the direction of your home, not looking back even once.

Jotaro swallowed heavily as he watched you run away, still feeling the phantom feeling of your lips on his cheek. And then he nearly clocked a dude right in the face when they swung an arm around his shoulder, surprising him.

Joseph screamed like a little girl as he ducked out of the way of the fist.

“Gramps!” Jotaro called out, exasperated.

“Honestly, Joseph, you need to learn how to read someone’s body language.” Caesar sighed. Seemingly appearing out of nowhere as he now stood to Jotaro’s right, Joseph righting himself and putting his arm back around his grandson from the left.

“You two are back in town?” Jotaro questioned, mostly aimed at Caesar as he pulled his grandfather’s arm off of himself and actively ignored him.

“We never left.”

“Yes we’re back.”

Caesar was quick to shut down Joseph’s attempt at a prank and the man pouted.

“How have you put up with him for all these years?” Jotaro questioned, pointing his thumb back to his grandfather.

“It honestly is a mystery to me as well.” Caesar spoke as Joseph let out an offended noise.

“Well screw you too! Here I was, just trying to be happy for my grandson for finding the love of his life, and I get this thrown at me!”

Jotaro actively tried to ignore that statement as he left the two behind and started walking the last leg to his house.

“Joseph, let me talk to your grandson for a bit.” Caesar patted Joseph’s shoulder and - while the man was pouting - he nodded and motioned Caesar to go.

Jotaro immediately noticed the Italian man walking up beside him and pulled his hat down over his eyes a bit. “You haven’t told her yet, have you?” The silence was answer enough and Caesar hummed a bit. “You know what I said before. And, if what we just saw was any indication, she returns your feelings.”

Jotaro once again didn’t say a thing and instead sped up a bit. But Caesar knew he was thinking about his words.

“Oi, Caesar! It’s my turn to talk to my grandson now!” Joseph called out from behind but Caesar was quick to shush him, pushing the older Joestar into another street to take a different route to the Kujo household and give the young man some peace of mind to think.

Tomorrow was a big day after all.

- - - -

A knocking on your door made you jump up from where you had anxiously been sitting. Nearly tripping on your way to the door, you managed to catch yourself in time and just opened the door.

There stood Jotaro, looking the same as ever and you sent him a quick smile.

“Good morning.”

“Morning.” Jotaro greeted back and he could see you excitedly bouncing, making him chuckle softly as he took a step to the side, giving you a good view of the pitch black horse that was hitched right outside your door.

“Jojo!” You exclaimed happily, running over to the gigantic animal. It was one of the biggest and strongest horses you had seen, an almost blue sheen to its black coat when the sun hit it right.

Upon hearing his name, the horse’s ears turned towards you and you walked up to stand beside it, gently petting its neck.

“Sometimes I think you like him more than me.” Jotaro joked as he walked up behind you after having closed your door that you stupidly left open in your excitement.

“I mean, he is a strong competition but no, I think you still win.” You tilted your head back to look at him and grinned, making Jotaro flick your forehead.

“Let’s go.” He spoke and placed his hands on your waist. The action surprised you and you quickly turned your head away from Jotaro so he couldn’t see your blush at the sudden close contact.

He lifted you without trouble, holding you high enough so that you could swing a leg over the large horse and sit down on the saddle.

“Scoot forward.” Jotaro instructed and you did as he asked while he untied the reins, throwing them back over the neck of the horse before taking hold of the saddle horn and back of the saddle while putting his foot in the stirrup, pulling himself up and swinging his leg over the horse’s back with grace.

Jotaro eased into the saddle, his hand that he used to grab the saddle horn now holding onto the reins, running under your arm and slightly pressed into your side.

Jotaro’s other arm suddenly snuck around your waist, pulling you back just a tiny bit so that your back was pressed into Jotaro’s chest. “Is this more comfortable?” He leaned forward a bit, softly saying that in your ear and making a shudder rack through your body, feeling his breath hit the shell of your ear. God, it was too early to get like this already.

“Y-Yeah.” You let out, clearing your throat as inconspicuously as possible afterwards.

Jotaro just hummed a bit, silently appreciating the cute little stutter in your voice while he let go of your waist, instead moving his hand so that he could hold the reins with both hands now.

Letting out two short clicking noises as he pulled the reins to the left side, Jotaro made Jojo turn, followed up by a small kick into the horse’s belly, urging the beast to start walking.

He almost immediately started up, a steady and confident stride in his steps yet perfectly in tune to the rider on his back.

You knew that Jotaro and Jojo had a good connection, the man having taken care of the animal ever since it was a foal. It still surprised you every day you saw the horse however, of how well trained he was. With its size, it could most likely trample everything in its path, yet he was the definition of a gentle giant.

It was your personal belief that the reason for that was because Jotaro had always doted on the animal. He had never admitted to it but you knew that despite the hardass, asshole attitude he had, he loved this horse.

“Relax a bit, you’re completely stiff.” Jotaro suddenly spoke up from behind you and you realised you had been lost in thought.

“Oh, sorry.” You quietly spoke, shuffling your butt a tiny bit to get a little more comfortable in the saddle. You might be a bit cramped and pushed to the front, but it was a lot better than sitting behind the saddle on the rump of the horse. Not only was there not a comfortable saddle back there, Jotaro’s massive frame also made it so that you could never properly look around. The two of you had tried that once the very first time, but after that it was always ‘you in front, Jotaro behind you’. Not that you rode with Jotaro too often. In fact, in the two years you knew him, it had only happened a handful of times. And yet, here you now sat.

“I thought I said relax.” Jotaro suddenly grumbled from behind, wrapping his arm back around your waist and pulling you back so that you were fully leaning against his chest. Instantly, you could feel yourself start to blush heavily as you began to properly sway with the movements of the horse, your back pressed against Jotaro.

“Sorry, uh, I was a bit lost in thought.” You tried to excuse yourself, the awkward smile on your face that he couldn’t see turning into surprise when Jotaro put his chin on the top of your head. In response to you he said nothing, only humming a bit, which you felt vibrate a little on your head.

You could feel Jotaro turn his head left and right as he looked both ways before crossing the street, lifting his head from yours once you reached the other side and spurring the horse into a light trot.

Jojo’s hooves pounded satisfyingly on the dirt road, the horse’s trot a comfortable ride despite his large size.

At the end of the street, Jotaro went right and you both passed the small church.

The sister just so happened to be outside, cleaning the steps and now looking up to see the two young people ride by. You noticed her as well, sending a smile and a wave while Jotaro subtly nodded, almost impossible to see for the nun who stood so far away. Yet still she smiled warmly and waved back, her look turning a bit more knowing as the horse passed by. She could almost smell what was blooming between those two from where she stood.

After a few minutes of a relaxed trot, you two were almost out of town when,

“JOTARO!”

The loud yet faraway shout made you lift your head up and look around while Jotaro gritted his teeth and pointedly refused to look anywhere but right in front of himself.

“Hey! Jotaro!”

At that, the man sitting behind you spurred his horse into a canter, holding you up against himself as he stood up in the stirrups slightly so that the animal beneath you could properly move.

Jotaro just noped the fuck out the moment he heard his grandfather’s voice. Whatever he wanted, it could wait. He had let his mother know he would most likely be gone most of the day if not all day with his horse and he was sure his mother would have told the old man as well. Right now, he was fairly certain that Joseph had seen you sitting in front and if he was allowed to talk to you, he’d definitely do everything he could to embarrass Jotaro. And no way was he letting that happen.

Running away when you were on horse and the pursuer on foot made it almost too easy and Jotaro looked back briefly, seeing the old man stand in the middle of the road, looking defeated as he became smaller and smaller while the pair on horseback left the town.

As soon as he thought you were far enough away, Jotaro slowed Jojo back into a trot and then back into a step, settling back into the saddle with you and unwrapping his left arm from your waist.

Or at least, that was the plan until his hand got snagged in your belt loop. Confused at first, he tugged just a little firmer, accidentally tugging at you while he felt something digging into the side of his hand, piercing through his skin.

“Oh!” You exclaimed in a bit of surprise when Jotaro nearly tugged you forward into the saddle.

Jotaro swallowed before he looked down over your shoulder as to what had happened, having no choice but to rest his wrist against your hipbone.

Somehow, he had trapped two of his fingers in your belt, and now the prong of your belt buckle had just straight up embedded itself into the side of the palm of his hand.

“Shit, sorry.” Jotaro quickly apologised as he tried to twist his hand out, but the prong punctured into his hand refrained him from moving without it digging painfully into his hand.

“No, it’s okay, just- here-“ Your delicate fingers wrapped around his, stopping him from squirming as you then pressed his hand flat into your stomach, using the clearer view to see how you could untangle him. “Who was that anyway?”

“My grandfather.” Jotaro answered as he felt himself blush, feeling the soft expanse of your stomach beneath his hand - even if it still was covered up with your shirt - was enough to make the boy flustered.

When you untangled his fingers, the prong still inside his hand, Jotaro couldn’t keep himself from softly squeezing your stomach. Just a small twitch of his fingers, digging the pads down just a little bit. It felt wrong to do morally but... god, he wanted to be able to keep doing that. Maybe Caesar was right. He had been doubting whether or not he should use today to confess but-

Unknowingly, in his thoughts, Jotaro squeezed again. While you hadn’t noticed the first time, you did now.

The man stopped breathing for a second, afraid he had overstepped and that you’d be mad, but you merely quietly apologised for hurting him, slowly and carefully sliding his hand off the prong, some blood dripping from the small puncture wound in his hand.

Jotaro moved his hand to the side so he wouldn’t bleed on either your clothes or his saddle, simultaneously looking away to the right to hide his raging blush as he gently pulled on the reins to make Jojo stop walking.

He got himself stuck and then impulsively touched you when you pressed his hand into your stomach, yet you were too oblivious to notice. Granted, you were the one to place his hand there, but still. Your mind was just so focused on helping him that you didn’t even notice the world around you. You were so sweet and selfless.

Of course Jotaro couldn’t have helped but fall head over heels for you.

Procuring a handkerchief from somewhere within your pocket, you grasped Jotaro’s hand again and gently wrapped it up.

The man shifted a little in the saddle behind you as you tied the knot and he cleared his throat. “Thanks.”

“No problem, uhm- oh! We stopped.” You only just now noticed and Jotaro turned his head back forward so he could look down on you. God, you really were oblivious, making his heart tighten fondly in his chest. “Anyways, why’d you run away from your grandpa?”

“Because I know him and if I stopped, we would have never left town.” Jotaro explained, and, in a way, he was not lying. For, if his grandfather had teased him and you, Jotaro might have just gotten cold feet and turned around with a ruined mood.

With a small sigh to shake that thought off, Jotaro spurred Jojo back into walking, the horse’s firm steps easily and quickly bringing them up and down the uneven terrain of the planes.

“So, where are we going?” You spoke up after a bit.

“The forest right outside the planes.”

You gasped at that and twisted your body around to look at Jotaro with a massive smile. “Really?!” He merely hummed in affirmation and an excited laugh burst from your throat, with you slinging your arms around Jotaro in a giddy hug.

“Hey, don’t be reckless, I have to ride.” Jotaro chastised you, but really it was just because he could feel his cheeks flame up, his heart beating sporadically at feeling your chest pressed against his and your arms around him.

At that you pulled back (Jotaro managing just in time to steel his expression), a sly look on your face. “Jojo is a competent enough horse, he can steer himself.”

“Tch.”

“That is a subtle way of me saying you raised him well, mister.” Your voice turned a little softer, an almost proud undertone shining through that made a small blush appear on the brooding man’s cheeks at your compliment.

“S-Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Ohhh, that was the wrong thing to say for Jotaro. His breathing became a bit laboured as he immediately thought of all the ways he could in fact shut you up while you turned to sit straight again. His hands holding the reigns squeezed hard and to make sure you wouldn’t notice, he released his left hand and instead placed it on his thigh, bunching the fabric there and squeezing tightly while his right hand that was still in your view was completely lax, just nonchalantly holding the reigns.

“If I want to compliment you I will, there’s nothing you can do about it.” You finished your statement after a second or two and Jotaro released his thigh. Of course, this was you he was talking about. Little old oblivious and innocent you who had no idea what effects simple words from you had on him.

“Compliment those who want it.” Was his gruff response but inside he wanted to kick himself. He did want your compliments, he was just shit at accepting them.

“I sure will.” You smiled slyly and suddenly leaned forward, leaving the warmth of Jotaro’s chest as you hovered your upper body over the neck of the horse you were sat on. “Jojo, you’re such a good boy! So strong and pretty! Yes you are! Yes!” You cooed at the animal, now affectionately patting and slapping the horse’s neck, getting a snort and happy turning of the ears in return.

“Don’t praise him so much, he’ll get spoiled.” Jotaro’s voice piped up from behind you, sounding a little disgruntled.

“You said to compliment those who want it. And besides, what can I say, I got a lot of love to give.” You shrugged with a small smile as you sat back up, twisting backwards in the saddle just a little so you could look at Jotaro.

“Well, put it elsewhere.”

“Like with you?” You teased and Jotaro turned his head to the side, tilting it down a little so his hat would obstruct your view of his face, though you saw the slight pout he sported.

“If it keeps you from turning my horse into a brat.” He responded, making you laugh lightly.

Now he had to accept your compliments, whether he wanted to or not.

- - - -

It took about an hour and a half of riding to cross the planes, switching between a step and a trot every now and then to speed the process up just a little bit.

The view was beautiful of course, some wild animals roaming around through nature. At one point a herd of wild horses had ran past, much to your awe and delight.

But still you were more than excited to get to the forest. You hadn’t been there in so long due to how far away it was, even on horseback, and now couldn’t wait.

Right now, Jojo was slowly climbing a small hill, huffing and snorting a bit as Jotaro needed to keep the reigns taut. It was steep and one of the few things the horse was still fussy about doing, especially now that he had two people on his back. Jotaro had to keep a firm and steady hand to keep him in check, making his arms tightly sit against your sides to do so, even squeezing a bit in order to keep the reigns steady.

You knew that was the reason for it of course, but still, you couldn’t help but blush at feeling his arms so tightly against you, caging you in and keeping you steady while his chin leaned on your shoulder, his hot breath fanning past your cheek as he looked down over you at what he was doing.

Finally, you reached the top of the hill. Jotaro let up on the tight squeeze of his arms at your sides and only now you suddenly noticed how his thighs had been squeezing as well, his knees pressed against your legs. “Sorry.” He mumbled and you cleared your throat.

“No it’s okay, you needed to.”

Jotaro hummed a bit at that and suddenly leaned forward, pressing his chest into your back and pushing you down as he gave the side of Jojo’s neck a few approving slaps for climbing the hill.

He had attempted to lean a bit around you but that proved futile as he pushed you down with him all the same.

Sitting back up together, you opened and closed your mouth like a fish, not knowing what to say, but all of those thoughts were thrown out the window when you saw the forest, the landscape having been hidden behind the hill before.

Your sudden gasp slightly scared Jotaro, afraid it was because of him pushing you down and that he fucked up, but when he saw you turn around to look at him with that giant smile and sparkle in your eye, he knew it was fine.

“Do you want to take us there?” He asked all of a sudden and you furrowed your brow in confusion.

When you didn’t get the hint because you were looking back at him, Jotaro playfully rolled his eyes and grabbed your right hand, making you snap your head forward to see his large hand enveloping yours, leading it over to the reigns he was still loosely holding in his left before wrapping your hand around the leather.

“R-Really?” You asked back at him, genuinely taken aback. You didn’t expect Jotaro to so easily give you the reigns to the horse he cared so much about. He was completely calm and relaxed, a small hint of a smile playing on his lips as he urged you to take it with your other hand as well, as if it was no big deal. He just handed you the control and trusted you with barely a word. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Just use both hands, he’s a strong horse.” Jotaro answered from behind, his voice a little more soft than you were used to and you felt yourself start to blush again.

Bringing your other hand up, you gripped the reigns with both hands, making Jotaro let go with his left as well, completely leaving you in control.

Jotaro gently nudged his heels and Jojo started stepping again.

Almost immediately after getting moving, a pair of hands landed on your waist and you looked down to see Jotaro was holding onto you like that, his hands on your waist so he wouldn’t fall.

In all honesty, you highly doubted he would fall at all, ever. But you couldn’t fault him for just wanting to hang on, so you didn’t say anything, instead just silently musing about how nice and warm and big his hands were.

Jotaro, at the same time, was musing about how small and soft you felt while he was holding you, trying to calm down his beating heart from making the bold move to hold you like this.

A curve in the road was coming up and you pulled the reigns to the right softly, only for Jojo to keep going forward, seemingly not heeding your signal at all.

You tried again, a little firmer this time, but still nothing. “He- He’s not turning.” You spoke with a small voice, feeling embarrassment wash over you. All you had been given were reigns and you couldn’t even make a simple turn to the right correctly?

Jotaro, hearing you and sensing your distress, gave your waist a small squeeze. “It’s alright.” He spoke but you felt disappointed in yourself. “Jojo’s not an easy horse.”

“Somehow I don’t believe that.” Your lips were curved down a bit and when you pulled on the reigns to try and get him to stop, Jojo wouldn’t even do that. A small noise left you and Jotaro was quick to grab hold of the reigns as well, pulling firmly with one hand and getting the horse to stop.

You let go of the reigns and buried your face in your hands while Jotaro let go as well, bringing his hand back to his side and leaning it on his leg as he looked at the back of your neck, his other hand still on your waist. “I’m sorry.” Your apology was a bit muffled but a soft look chased away the usual frown that Jotaro wore at your words.

“There’s no need to be. Jojo is stubborn and it takes practice to ride him.”

“I have not ever seen him be stubborn. He is literally the sweetest horse I know.” You said, lifting your head from your hands and looking back at Jotaro. For the first time you noticed the uncharacteristically soft look on his face and you suddenly felt a lot better already.

“That’s because you’ve only ever seen him with me.” At that you raised an eyebrow, a faint smile returning to your lips, much to Jotaro’s delight.

“Oh so he is only so sweet when you’re around, huh?” You remarked, getting a soft snort from Jotaro. “See, I told you you trained him well.” You then said softly and a warm feeling spread through the man’s chest.

“Want to try again? I’ll help.”

Nodding, you turned back around in the saddle and grabbed hold of the reins a little hesitantly.

“With Jojo it is important to keep your elbows pressed into your sides at all times.” He gently cupped your elbows and pushed them into your sides. Jojo, who had hung his head low to graze a bit at a small patch of grass, was forced to raise his head now that the reins went a little taut.

With your elbows in place, Jotaro shuffled a little bit more back before sliding you back up against him, his chest pressing against you and allowing you to feel the muscle even through the clothing in between.

Bringing his arms around yours, Jotaro grasped hold of your hands, enveloping them with his own and holding onto the reins that way. His head was leaned forward and his cheek almost pressed against yours as he looked over your shoulder.

“Be confident but don’t suddenly tug.” He explained as he showed exactly what he meant, pulling his - and by extension your - hand outward to the right, gentle but firm.

Almost immediately, Jojo started turning on his axis, Jotaro giving a small nudge in the stallion’s belly to get him to start moving again when he was pointed in the right direction.

“He knows you’re the one doing it, he just has a soft spot for you.” You remarked, but Jotaro happily noted the sweet lilt in your voice, showing you were no longer that hung up about the whole thing.

Still, he couldn’t help but want to cheer you up even more. “If we are being honest, I think he has a soft spot for you too. Not many can approach him like you do. Not even my grandfather can.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” Jotaro hummed affirmatively. “He gets huffy when they do. But not with you.” He leaned sideways to the right a little bit as he said that last sentence, allowing him to turn his head left to properly look at you and bring his point home.

Your eyes were a bit wide as you looked at him before a smile split your face. Jotaro had the sudden urge to press a kiss to your temple but refrained himself, sitting straight in the saddle again and focusing back on the reins and how his hands sat over yours.

Suddenly kicking into the belly of the beast, Jotaro spurred his horse into a trot when you reached the bottom of the large hill, much to your surprise. “Try turning.” Jotaro spoke over the sound of the hooves.

His hands were still over yours, giving you some confidence but still, you tried pulling the reins left, Jotaro guiding you a bit as he helped pull firmer, showing you exactly how hard you needed to work the reins to get Jojo to turn.

In a steady trot, you started to zig-zag on the road. After the fifth turn, Jotaro was no longer helping with pulling the reins and he let go, returning his hands to holding onto your waist.

Jojo was powerfully trotting to the left and you now tried to steer him back to the middle of the path, without even the semblance of Jotaro helping doing it. And, without a fuss or huff, Jojo turned - just as smoothly as he did when Jotaro was the one in control.

A wave of pride flushed through your chest and Jotaro watched as you guided Jojo the rest of the way to the forest.

Once you were about fifteen meters away, you pulled the reins and Jojo slowed down to a step.

“Well done.” Jotaro praised you before looking around a bit. “Stop here.” He said after a few meters and you pulled the reins, bringing the horse to a stop.

Reaching his hand around you again, Jotaro grabbed hold of the saddle horn before swinging his left leg over the animal and dismounting, holding his arms up for you moments after.

You put the reins behind the horn before scooting back in the saddle and swinging your left leg over Jojo as well, only, different from Jotaro, you swung it over his neck so that you were sitting sideways in the saddle. This allowed Jotaro to grab you by the waist and lift you off, gently placing you on the ground.

Once he was sure you were steady, he stepped up to the side of Jojo and patted his neck a few times before swinging the reins over the animal’s head so that he could lead him.

Taking hold of the leather reins in his left hand, Jotaro expectantly turned back to face you and you smiled, realising what he meant.

You skipped up to beside him and stood next to him, ready to enter the forest for the first time in like three years.

Jojo had a different plan however as he suddenly stepped sideways, walking from Jotaro’s left side, over to the right, where you stood - forcing Jotaro to switch the reins behind his back from his left hand to his right - and nudging your shoulder with his head.

“Oh!” You called out in surprise as you were thrown forward a bit by the powerful nudge before turning around. Placing your hand on the nose of the animal, you gently scratched his forehead and neck, Jotaro smirking at you from the side.

“I told you he likes you.”

- - - -

Jotaro watched as you ran around the forest in awe.

Months ago, he had heard you talk about the last time you went to the forest. The sparkle and longing in your eyes as you did showed him how much you loved the collection of trees and he vowed back then to take you to one one day.

And he had to admit you were right, it was really pretty. Though, his eyes were mainly focused on you, not the forest.

With his left hand still holding onto Jojo’s lead, Jotaro followed with his horse as you frolicked through the trees, looking at every bush and plant as if it was your first time seeing green.

“Y/N, don’t stray too far!” He called out when he had to lead his horse around a closer cluster of trees that the large animal he was leading couldn’t fit through.

Walking around, Jotaro looked to where you had been, only to see you nowhere in sight. “Y/N?”

Walking forward, he looked around with furrowed brows, slight worry eating away at him in the pit of his stomach. Where did you go? He called your name once more, once again with no answer.

Suddenly, a pinecone hit him right on the nose, making him curse loudly.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to, I-!” Jotaro slowly raised his head up, following the sound of your voice to see you sitting in between the branches of a tree, your hand guiltily slapped in front of your mouth. Quietly muttering, “I didn’t meant to.”

“Ouch.” He pointedly spoke, holding direct eye contact with you and you quickly climbed out of the tree, jumping down the last bit by hanging off a branch and dropping a way too large drop for Jotaro’s liking before rushing over.

“I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, I just wanted to get you by surprise.” You apologised as you took his face into your hands, checking him over and gently running your thumb over the bridge of his nose where a very tiny chafe now marred the side.

“You’re shit at throwing things, you should know that by now.” Jotaro said and raised his eyebrow.

“Yeah...” You admitted with your head hung low before looking up at him through your lashes, looking a little bit like a kicked puppy. “Are you okay?”

“Y/N, I’ve been hit with a lot worse than a pinecone, especially with your weak throw.” He grabbed both your wrists, though he did not pull your hands away from his face, just simply holding you; Jojo’s leash now just hanging on his arm.

“Oi, now you’re just being mean.” You pouted and the corner of Jotaro’s mouth quirked up.

“I think I am allowed to. You assaulted me.”

“I said I was sorry!”

“But are you?”

“Yes!” You nearly shrieked out, Jotaro cocking his head a little to the side as he looked at you.

All of a sudden, you realised how close to each other you were standing, your nose mere centimeters from touching his.

Jotaro saw you visibly start as you pulled back a bit, an awkward smile on your face as you cleared your throat.

You took a step back, letting go of his face and bringing your arms down, though Jotaro was still holding your wrists.

“Well, at least you’re okay.” You smiled a bit while Jotaro looked at you, closing his eyes a second later as he released your wrists.

“You are a real problem sometimes, you know that?”

“Yeah, I think I do.” You giggled softly and Jotaro huffed in amusement.

“I’ll just have to keep an eye on you.”

With that, he grabbed hold of your left hand, pulling you to his side before starting to walk forward, having re-gripped the reins in his left so he could lead Jojo along.

Your eyes were slightly wide, a light blush on your face as you were dragged along with him.

Walking in step with the man next to you, your eyes were stuck between looking around and constantly honing back in on him. You couldn’t help it.

His hand was so confidently holding yours, a firm grip while he led you along through the forest.

Opting to just take it as it is, you went to look around again, a small blush on your cheeks while your eyes trailed up to the canopy of the trees, seeing two birds sitting side by side.

Suddenly, you tripped over a branch that got stuck between your feet, saved only by Jotaro’s hold on you as he quickly reacted and pulled your arm up, keeping you from face planting on the forest floor.

“T-Thanks.” You breathed out as you used his hand and arm to clumsily get yourself back on your feet.

Jotaro merely grunted in response but suddenly interlaced his fingers with yours, giving your hand a small squeeze. “Try not to trip again.”

You looked up at him in surprise but he was looking forward, his ears a slight red hue while most of his face was shadowed by his hat.

Opting to just stay silent, you looked around at the forest, simultaneously relishing inside your head as to how nicely Jotaro’s hand fit around yours, his fingers tightening and re-gripping your hand once.

Coming from all around, the sounds of the forest calmed your beating heart. Jojo’s hooves softly stomping on the forest floor - paired with your and Jotaro’s footsteps - birds chirping and singing to each other, the wind rushing through the canopies, rustling the leaves of the trees.

You thought that maybe you’d be disappointed when you came back here after years. That the memories you made as a younger you would have overblown and made things way more fantasised and pretty than it actually was; that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Silently, Jotaro watched you as you looked around. Your face was stuck in a constant state of awe, a happy glint in your eye that would not leave as you took in the forest around you, amazed and perplexed.

His heart was absolutely hammering in his chest as he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He didn’t know if it was a conscious action on your part, but whenever you would see something that caught your attention, your fingers would twitch in excitement, giving his hand the gentlest of squeezes that made him way more flustered than he’d like to admit.

God, Jotaro had it down bad for you, and he didn’t know if he could keep his feelings in for much longer.

He had a hunch that you liked him back, but he wasn’t sure. And on the off chance that you didn’t like him back, was it worth the risk losing your friendship as it was now?

As he let his eyes drift to the side and away from you, he suddenly spotted something.

“Y/N.” He uttered your name as a mere whisper, making you turn your head with a questioning look as he brought his left hand to his lips, making a shushing motion.

Turning to his left, he quickly wrapped Jojo’s reins around a thick tree branch sticking out, leaving his horse tied down as he then quietly walked forward, taking you with him by the hand he was still holding you with. You got the hint to remain quiet and followed him as stealthily as possible.

Sneaking around trees, Jotaro made you crouch down low as he continued to lead you with him. Right up until you both sat down behind a fallen over log.

Once more motioning you to keep quiet, Jotaro lifted his hand and pointed a little bit to the right. You followed his arm to where he was pointing, only to see a cluster of wild deer standing there, grazing.

A small quiet gasp left you as you saw them and you turned to look at Jotaro, a giant smile on your face that made his heart skip a beat. He squeezed your hand in response and you tightly gripped his’ back while you looked at the animals again.

Just feeling you so tightly hold on, your shoulder touching his as you were crouched behind the fallen over log, there was nowhere else that Jotaro would rather be.

“Did you know fawns do not have a detectable smell? That way predators cannot smell and find them.” Jotaro quietly spoke up, having leaned a bit more into you to whisper that into your ear so that the deer would not get alerted by your presences.

“Really?” You questioned, almost with childlike wonder, and Jotaro nodded, the corners of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly, showing how content he was. “What else?” You questioned, hoping he knew more.

“Well, some deer have been seen eating infant birds, which is uncanny since deer are primarily herbivores.” Jotaro said that with a little hesitancy. He just said the first thing that came to mind, realising only once he said it how gruesome what he actually said was. But you were quick to put him at ease.

“Oh that’s nasty. I thought they were the nice animals.” You joked a bit as you turned back to watching the deer.

Reassured by your words, Jotaro continued. “Some mothers digest their foetuses if times are hard and she is malnourished.” By now, he was not looking at the deer at all anymore. Just watching your expressions as you looked at the animals and your reactions to the information he gave you. Wanting to see you react to his words, to him.

“How hard would surviving have to be if you need to resort to... that.” Jotaro watched as your brows furrowed a bit, your lips turning downwards some as you showed compassion for those deer that you most likely would never even cross paths with. “What else?” Your whisper was barely audible but Jotaro did hear and swallowed a bit nervously. Oh god, why was he nervous?

“Well, deer practice both polygamy as well as monogamy.” His eyes drifted down to your hands still entwined together, drifting back up after to see your reaction.

“Huh, I thought the bucks would just... get whatever female they can have.” You spoke, still looking entranced by the animals further ahead.

“No. Some- some mate for life.”

His words were accompanied by a soft squeeze of your hand and with that, you finally turned back to look at Jotaro. And right then and there he decided that; yes, it was worth it.

“Y/N.” He started as he turned to his right, now fully facing you, making you turn your body slightly toward him as well while he had his head tilted down, burning holes into the log to his left as he questioned himself. Was he really just gonna do it?

“Jotaro?” You questioned after a minute of silence.

Jotaro looked at the forest floor for a second longer before abruptly raising his head. “I’m in love with you.”

Blinking twice, it took a second before you recoiled a bit in shock, Jotaro looking right into your eyes as he said that, looking the most serious he could and only then did the words he spoke actually sink in. “...What?” You questioned with a breathless voice, your eyes wide.

“You heard me. I don’t want to say it again.” Jotaro leaned forward and grabbed your other hand as well, his eyes darting down to it and back up to your eyes.

He gently tugged you towards himself, placing your hand on his side before letting go and putting his left hand on the side of your face, his right still entwined with yours. Slowly, he started leaning in, searching your eyes to see what you were thinking.

“Jotaro?” You whispered softly, an unsure tone in your voice.

“Stop me if you don’t want it.” He quietly said back before leaning in fully, softly connecting his lips with yours as he closed his eyes.

Your eyes were wide as your brain tried to catch up with what was happening. But then, your eyes just fluttered closed and tentatively, you leaned into him, kissing back.

Feeling you kiss back, a massive weight got lifted from Jotaro’s shoulders and he wasted no time, eagerly sliding his hand from your jaw to the back of your head so he could pull you closer, deepening the kiss sweetly as he tilted his head a bit.

He had waited so long for this, and it was everything he had imagined it would be so many times. It was addicting. You were addicting. But this was one addiction he did not want to stop.

Your lips were just so soft and warm and the feeling of kissing you after all this time made that nervous flutter in his chest into a fire. With his hand still holding yours he squeezed softly, his lips continuing to move with yours before you squeezed back, making Jotaro hum a bit.

Slowly, the two of you broke apart, Jotaro returning his hand back to cupping your cheek, very gently running his thumb over your cheekbone as he took in your flushed face.

For the first time ever, a deep red blush was visible to you on his face as well, and just the thought of him blushing so much over you caused your own blush to burn even brighter.

The two of you just looked at each other in silence for a bit, stunned and letting sink in what actually just happened.

“Did you ever realise I was sweet on you?” Jotaro questioned after a bit and you shook your head, though your heart skipped a beat at his words. “You really are oblivious then.” He spoke but there was a small smile on his face, his thumb still rubbing back and forth. “Everyone else seemed to see it, even the brats you teach. But I guess it worked out for the best.” With that he lifted his right hand, turning it so that the back of your hand was facing him as he brought it up to his mouth. He didn’t outright press a kiss to it, just simply holding it there against his lips, but you felt butterflies crashing around in your stomach at the action.

“I-I’m sorry then.” You apologised but Jotaro clicked his tongue, bringing your hands down and finally untangling them as he instead brought it up to cradle your head, his eyes piercing into yours.

“Don’t ever apologise. I don’t want you to change, you don’t have to. Understood?”

You nodded a small nod, lost in his eyes as he wouldn’t look away.

“Good.” He fell into a small silence as his face shifted to appear a little warmer again. “Can- I kiss you again?”

“Yeah.” You smiled shyly and Jotaro’s gaze drifted down to your lips, slowly leaning forward-

Several thumps echoed through the forest and both your heads shot up to see the entire herd of deer suddenly springing and running away, rapidly moving in the direction of you and Jotaro before rushing past to the right, huffing and grunting slightly as they ran.

“W-Why did they do that?” You asked, having a hunch you did not like as the both of you quickly got up onto your feet properly.

“Something must have spooked them.” Jotaro remarked, scanning the tree line and you looked up at him with worry. “Let’s go, come on.”

You were about to start moving when harsh barks and growls echoed from behind you two, further into the forest.

Your eyes widened in fear but Jotaro wasted no time in grabbing your hand as he started running through the forest, back to where he left Jojo.

More barks sounded, getting louder as you ran and Jotaro whistled loudly, warning Jojo to get ready as the two of you ran towards the horse.

As soon as you reached the large animal, a howl sounded behind yourself and you gasped, starting to look behind you but not getting the chance to as Jotaro picked you up by your hips and lifted you onto the saddle.

Having a good view and vantage point now, you easily saw the pack of wolves running through the trees towards you while Jotaro quickly untangled the reins, throwing them over his horse’s neck before putting his foot into the stirrup.

“Jojo, go!” Jotaro shouted out, his left leg barely over the animal’s back as he pulled the reins to the right, the horse immediately reacting as all his muscles - that had been tensed in preparation - were now being utilised, the animal shooting forward as if an arrow out of a bow while Jotaro only still hung on the side.

And right on time, as the wolves reached you the moment Jojo began running, leaving them going in pursuit while Jotaro finished slinging his leg over the saddle, jamming his other foot into the stirrup.

The man behind you immediately stood up in the stirrups as Jojo accelerated into a gallop in just a few seconds. With his right arm around your waist, Jotaro lifted you up with him as well, holding you pressed firmly against his chest since you didn’t have the stirrups to stand in.

Leaning forward over the neck of the horse, you could feel Jotaro’s breath against your ear, the man’s warm chest pressed firmly against your back as he held you up and simultaneously tilted forward, providing as little air resistance as possible to run.

Horse hooves galloped over the dirt, the sounds heavy and thundering as Jojo ran at full speed through the forest, dodging trees left and right, branches breaking as the horse barrelled through underbrush.

The wolves growled and barked hard, nipping at the larger animal’s side when they could. “Come on, Jojo!” Jotaro shouted, the horse pushing just a bit harder and gaining on the canines.

Bursting through even more bushes, a thick fallen over tree suddenly blocked the way. Without missing a beat, Jojo vaulted over it, all the noise momentarily seemed to cease as you flew through the air, right up until the stallion crashed back onto the forest floor. Immediately, Jojo rushed on, sprinting ahead while the wolves jumped over the log as well, still in pursuit.

Wind rushed past, trees still being dodged left and right by the horse right up until he reached the edge of the forest, breaking through brush and running out, back onto the plains, the loud barks and growls of the wolves going in pursuit slowly dwindling and decreasing the farther away from the forest you got - the canines no longer finding it worth it to waste their energy by going in pursuit.

Jotaro chanced a glance behind as you continued to gallop away, seeing the wolves slow down and stop, just watching as you all ran away, becoming smaller and smaller with each second.

- - - -

After what felt like forever, Jotaro finally pulled on the reins, slowing Jojo into a canter before going into a trot and then a step, sitting back down in the saddle, bringing you down with him as well and finally letting go of his arm around your waist.

His breathing was slightly heavy as he pulled once more, coming to a complete stop.

Slightly turning around in the saddle and looking behind himself once more, there was no sign of the wolves and Jotaro let out a deep sigh, turning forward again and lifting his hat from his head to run a hand through his hair before putting it back on.

Putting one hand on your waist, Jotaro leaned forward and patted Jojo’s neck, calming the animal down as he praised it.

“That was, uh- that was- yeah, that was.” You concluded, just shortly laughing at the end, more to get rid of the nerves and adrenalin that had been shooting through your body than anything else.

“It was.” Jotaro chuckled softly as you looked back at him, just huffing a laugh of your own as you turned to look forward again, instead slumping back into Jotaro, leaning against him as you let out a deep sigh; Jotaro automatically placing his hands on your hips to hold you.

“It could’ve gone quite wrong had you and Jojo not been as fast as you were.” You took in a deep breath before sitting up straight again, figuring to not put all your weight on the man behind you. “I forgot that was the reason why my dad always carried a massive rifle when we used to go there.” You said but heard Jotaro ‘tch’ behind you as he let you go.

A disagreeing rumble sounded from in his chest. “There’s no need to shoot innocent animals just because they are hungry or feel threatened.”

“Thinking like that will easily get you into trouble, partner.” A new voice said, making you and Jotaro snap to attention, seeing a man with another rider behind him - both of them carrying rifles - walking up from behind, putting you both on high alert.

A snarl developed on Jotaro’s face as he crossed eyes with the man up front. “You. What do you want?”

Your eyes were slightly wide as you recognised him. He was the leader of the group of riders who had come to rob the church yesterday...

The man’s eyes glided from Jotaro, down to you, and back up while he circled around, and Jotaro didn’t like it one bit, snaking his right arm around your waist and discreetly yet protectively pulling you closer.

Looking behind himself from the corner of his eye, Jotaro took note of the other rider - he had hung back and was now walking his horse to stand behind Jojo - though his main focus remained on the man from yesterday.

“Well what kind of greeting is that? I see you still haven’t learnt some manners, boy. But then again, why would you?” The man from before grinned and Jotaro narrowed his eyes. While his friend was just a few meters behind, this outlaw was standing about seven meters away in front. “Do you have any guesses as to why we’re here?”

“...”

Jotaro didn’t say anything as he sized the other man up, a dangerous glare on his face, borderline scowl.

Seeing as Jotaro wasn’t answering, the man took it upon himself to do so, a suddenly dangerous aura around him, masked by mock politeness. “Let me get straight to the point then. You know what you did with your little stunt yesterday?” He cocked his head, trying to incite a physical response though he got none. “You humiliated me. Hurt my pride.” He placed his hand on his chest as if in hurt, looking down for a second before snapping his eyes open and staring into Jotaro’s eyes with an almost deranged look. “And I care about my pride. So I think I’ll hurt something you care about.”

Your eyes widened as the world seemed to slow down, the man pulling his revolver up and pointing it at straight you, the sound of a gun cocking behind yourselves as well.

Yet Jotaro was faster, signaling Jojo and making the horse spring into action on the command.

The giant black stallion bucked backward and slammed his hind legs into the rider standing behind himself, causing the man to be roughly kicked out of the saddle, instantly taken out of the fight by the harsh impact of the giant animal’s hooves on his temple and torso, his horse scaring and sprinting away simultaneously.

A gunshot sounded at the same time, a bullet whizzing just over your and Jotaro’s heads.

The leader had aimed for your head but due to Jojo bucking, you and Jotaro had leaned down, the bullet shooting past where your heads had just been.

Jojo landed back on all four of his legs and Jotaro kicked his belly, urging him to go, but the outlaw was quicker than Jotaro expected, him having already reloaded before the horse could even start to run.

You felt Jotaro’s hand on your waist tighten as he yanked you aside to the right just when a gunshot sounded.

Attempting to shield himself with his left arm, Jotaro let out a short shout in pain as the bullet seared through his flesh, shooting straight through the middle of his forearm and embedding itself right underneath his left clavicle.

“Jotaro!!” You called out in fear and Jotaro gritted his teeth, growling slightly as he let go of your waist after pulling you back up, yanking the reins to the left to make Jojo turn while he grabbed his gun from behind his back, aiming it at the man.

Said man had his gun pointed at Jotaro in a similar fashion, once more resulting in a stand off between the two.

“What’re you gonna do now that there ain’t no sheriff to come to your aid?” The outlaw smirked but Jotaro calmly stared down the barrel of the gun.

“Don’t need one.”

With that, he fired his gun while simultaneously making Jojo prance up, confusing the gang member enough to make his bullet go wide, only for the man to yelp as Jotaro’s bullet shot into his gun, making him drop the thing.

You fell back into Jotaro when the stallion suddenly got up on his hind legs, the young man letting out a pained grunt as you did, right before Jojo fell back down on all fours.

Jotaro wasted no time in slinging his right arm around your waist again to hold you, kicking his heels to make Jojo storm forward where Jotaro gave a signal for his horse to turn left with his foot, yanking his right leg out of the stirrup to instead harshly kick the outlaw out of his saddle.

Yelling in anger and pain as he fell, he was abruptly silenced as he got the wind knocked out of him by landing on the ground, his horse panicking and running away quick and fast.

With a groan he tilted his head up, seeing his gun lay on the ground not far from him and he quickly made a lunge for it, grabbing it with both hands yet freezing as he heard the heavy hoof-falls behind him step once, twice, before stopping. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Jotaro high atop his horse, a threatening image with the man’s only reassurance being the iron in his hands.

Jotaro, calm as could be, just simply drifted his eyes to the gun, acknowledging it before looking back into the eyes of the outlaw with a cold look.

“Try it. Let’s see who’s the fastest gun.”

The man’s breath hitched. There was no doubt or hesitation in Jotaro, his threatening glare pointed down as he challenged him

Everything seemed to quiet down and freeze for a second, the stare off between the two feeling like an eternity yet lasting no more than two seconds. But with nothing to lose, the outlaw suddenly hardened his stare and abruptly rolled onto his back, providing a dodging movement as he simultaneously brought his gun up, ready to fire haphazardly.

Yet Jotaro was two steps ahead of him, his gun already brought up, aimed, and the trigger pulled before the outlaw had even the chance to put his finger on it.

Jotaro’s bullet immediately shot through both of the man’s hands at the same time, since he was still holding his gun with both hands. His scream of pain echoed over the plains as he dropped his gun, unable to hold it any longer. Blood started bubbling from the wounds and he shakily brought his hands up to his face, stifled yells and pained noises leaving him as he snapped his head up with a venomous glare.

The glare dissipated into eyes widened in fear the moment Jotaro walked Jojo up next to the outlaw and stared directly down at him. There was a cold rage in his eyes that made the man’s breath hitch. “Never threaten her again.”

With that, Jotaro pointed his gun down and shot twice, one in each foot, not a single speck of remorse in him as the man screamed in pain before passing out from it.

- - - -

Jotaro was sitting on the ground with you in front of him.

“You’re so stupid.” You choked out, tears in your eyes as you slammed the bloodied cloth in your hand onto the dried grass.

“Y/N-“

“No!”

Jotaro shut up at that. He couldn’t recall if you had ever raised your voice at him, and now he just stared into your eyes, the tears you were holding back making them glassy while his eyebrows creased in worry, feeling as if he had to say at least something.

“...I can’t see you getting hurt.” He softly said, attempting to grab your hand, but that set you off.

“Oh, so that means I have to see you getting hurt?!” You called out and Jotaro stopped himself.

You were starting to get more and more upset and he needed to calm you down. Doing just that, Jotaro - not thinking clearly due to the pain and not knowing what else to do - just grabbed you by the back of your head with his right hand and pulled you towards himself, slamming his lips against yours, shutting you up.

Tears were now streaming down your face as he kissed you, a small sob leaving you and muffled by his mouth as you placed your left hand on his neck, feeling his warm skin under your palm as you just gave in.

Feeling you do that, Jotaro tentatively broke the kiss, pulling back only slightly before he placed his forehead to yours, you now trying to stifle your crying.

“Hey.” He softly spoke to try and get your attention and you opened your eyes, looking up to look into his. “I’m alright. The bullet didn’t even fully go into my chest, you know that, you pulled it out.”

“I-It was only halfway in.” You sniffled out with a nasally voice, Jotaro petting the back of your hair as he nodded briefly, the feeling a bit strange as he still held his forehead to yours.

“Exactly. So you don’t have to worry.”

“But your arm-!”

“-Will heal.” Jotaro finished for you, finally leaning back. “Right now let’s just get home.”

You sniffled once more and wiped the tears from your face with the fabric of your sleeve, your hands and wrists too stained with blood to use for that. “Once we’re back in town you’re going to a doctor.” You spoke out with a bit of a hoarse voice and Jotaro snorted softly in amusement, a slight smile on his face as he used his thumb to wipe away a last tear that you missed.

“I figured.”

You took a deep breath to reign in and steel your emotions, releasing it again as you focused back on his arm. His trenchcoat was partly off and you had rolled up his sleeve of the shirt he wore underneath it, still unnerved by the see-through hole that you knew sat underneath the improvised bandage, blood staining it from the profusely bleeding wound in his arm. “Don’t ever get into a fight on my behalf again.” You spoke as you picked up the cloth you had thrown into the grass earlier, starting to try and wipe away the blood you had accidentally got onto his neck.

‘It’s one of the only reasons I ever get into a fight.’ He thought to himself but instead shook his head slightly. “No promises.”

- - - -

With only slight effort Jotaro had gotten back into the saddle, you climbing into it yourself for the first time ever now that Jotaro wasn’t there to lift you before you could. He managed to get on behind you with one arm, grabbing hold of your hip afterwards given how you had already taken the reins.

Neither of you spoke much the entire ride back, yet every now and then, Jotaro would softly squeeze the hand on your hip. Comforting you even in silence.

Riding back into town, you immediately made way for the doctor’s, Jotaro rolling his eyes behind you at your stubbornness. If you had your eyes set on helping people, there really was no changing your mind.

“Y/N, you go to the sheriff’s and report what happened like we discussed.” Jotaro said to you as he carefully dismounted, making sure not to use his left side too much.

“What? No, I wanna go in with you.” You protested, looking a little hurt and Jotaro reached his good hand up to grab yours still on the reins.

“I’ll be fine. Those guys won’t stay there knocked out forever and you know it. You can come back after you’ve gone and reported it.” He said before slapping his horse’s neck twice. “C’mon, Jojo, go.”

With that, the horse started gently trotting and you looked back at Jotaro as you went further down the street. Concerned for the man as his figure got smaller and smaller before you saw it enter the doctor’s office.

Unfortunately, the sheriff’s was almost on the other side of town, so it might take a lot longer to come back than you would have liked.

- - - -

“Hello sheriff Miller.” You smiled a small awkward smile while the sheriff shot up from his seat, his eyebrows raised.

“What happened, darling? You’re covered in blood!” He walked forward, taking hold of your upper arm as he looked you over.

“Uhm, well you see, me and Jotaro- uh, Kujo, Jotaro Kujo, I mean - we were out riding when that gang from yesterday approached us. Two of them at least. And, well- let’s just say things got ugly...”

“Are you both alright?” The sheriff immediately asked and you swallowed.

“Sort of. Jotaro got shot.” You teared up a bit but shook your head when the sheriff placed his hand on your shoulder. “But he’s at the doctor now and I came here to say that the two men who attacked us are knocked out on the road to the forest to the north of here. Almost directly next to the forest.”

“They’re knocked out?” At that the sheriff raised his eyebrows and you nodded.

“One got kicked by a horse, the other got shot.” You said but quickly held your hand up when the sheriff furrowed his eyebrows. “U-Uh, but only in his hands and feet! Jotaro didn’t kill him! It was all in self defence! Really!” You frantically called out while sheriff Miller straightened up, looking down at you with a stern expression.

- - - -

“The guy and the gang he was a part of apparently have a bounty on their heads, so you won’t see any consequences for shooting a man.”

You were walking side by side with Jotaro, you on his left, and Jojo having to be on his right so he could lead his horse with his good hand.

Jotaro hummed in response to you as you walked the road back to your home, Jotaro insisting that he escort you there.

His arm was now in a sling, the wounds nicely and cleanly stitched and wrapped up and you felt a lot better seeing that - even though he lost quite some blood - he was walking as if totally fine.

You just wished things could have gone differently. This day took a nosedive from being one of the best in your life, over to one of the worst, with someone you care deeply about being shot. Oh god, you confessed to Jotaro. And he confessed to you. You totally forgot in all the chaos. What if-

“What are you thinking about?”

“Eh?” You snapped out of your thoughts, looking to your right to see Jotaro looking down at you curiously. “Oh, just... today.”

“Mhm.” He hummed, looking forward again, as if contemplating it.

“I just... I’m sorry.” You whispered and Jotaro turned to you with a raised eyebrow.

“Why are you apologising?”

“Because you got hurt and-“

“Is it your fault I got shot?”

“W-Well, no, not exactly I guess-“

Jotaro stopped walking and instead turned to you, taking hold of your chin and turning your head towards himself. “Exactly.” Your eyes were so innocent and you looked like you felt so guilty despite what he said, making Jotaro slowly blink and sigh as he closed his eyes briefly.

A quick glance into the street showed it was rather empty, and Jotaro snaked his good arm around your waist, pulling you into himself.

“Y/N-“

Just deciding ‘fuck it’, Jotaro wasted no more time with idle talk and slotted his lips over yours.

Part 1  |  Part 2  |  Part 3

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

@stingray-sins

[back2themax]

The Future problem: A issue with the sequels

I mentioned this a while back when talking about any movie past T2 and espically when I was reviewing dark fate, but there’s a problem with the way the later movies portray the future. It’s inconsistant and unrealistic with what we know happened. Let me explain

Billions dead, small numbers- yet a huge army network?-

In The terminator Kyle makes it excruciatingly clear that the number of alive and able bodied human beings is incredibly slim. Humanity is on its last legs- hell- it’s crawling on it’s belly to stay alive. Those who are alive are forced underground, if not in camps, they don’t go out during the day. If they even know what day looks like anymore.

The resistance is a startling few of a already dwindling species! Even with the bigger Buget T2 makes it clear it’s really like 30 guys and a few old trucks up against the Death Star!

Yet every sequel since has made the resistance this HUGE globe spanning network of a super military with complex rankings, weponry, machines and so on! W H A T?! It makes even less sense knowing salvation is before the completely obliterated future Kyle comes from and that Dark fate says they have the ability to make actual cyborgs (which makes even less sense) ?? So humanity has barely survived except they have a huge and extremely strong military force? Unles every single able bodied person left

1. Even knew it existed

2. Would really quickly come to accept the leadership

It’s just not possible, Salvation is the biggest offender to all of my issues involving military power and their numbers as. Your telling me that all this equipment survived a Nucular  holocaust AND wasn’t destroyed by skynet after to prevent any humans who survived from using it?! A submarine? What the fuck. But it’s the helicopters that get me the most… HOW.

Kyles account of people going into hiding, only being able to come out at night etc and the fact that so many roaming HK’s cover not only the ground but the sky? There’s no way in hell a helicopter or any man flown plane would last five seconds before getting shot down! I get they’re trying to give John this Maverick like storyline but it just- doesn’t work.

Salvation and Dark fate also yet on my nerves because- everything it too… intact? To perfect of rubble , to preseved dead trees etc. This may be a nitpick but even the sky is to light! Now future flashbacks may have been at night in the original two but I also think a large portion would be the amount of soot and ash from constant fire, explosions, factory pollution etc. It being dark and blue wash is not only a good aesthetic choice but it also drills in there’s nothing left. A whole lot more. It’s “post  apocalypse” not “kids play mad max in Kansas scrap yard” 

John Connor becomes Jesus

Let’s also be real in that no movie ever does John right after T2 as well- except maybe the beginning of Genysis when it actually is John before skynet corrupts him. Anyway-

Basically the further franchise treats John like this “ foretold savior” when really it was orignally more Kyle fanboying about his personal hero (and unknowingly his son). Technically he’s “foretold” in that someone from the future explains what’s going to happen and what he does for the world but he’s not this mythical being. He’s just a man.

No one else has this real reason to freak and treat John like a god. He doesn’t flick his wrist and end it all- that took YEARS. He’s just a good leader. In fact hes the fucking founder of the resistance- which salvation ignores for their Maverick storyline because he needs some rules and higher ups to piss off.

It was expressed John pulled together some forces, using his training from his mom and his experience with past Terminators - he’s able to start a resistance, to storm camps and free people etc etc. He’s - sort of a time loop built savior? But it’s one people don’t know, realize, or should treat him as such accept really his parents and skynet. It’s when the sequels try to act like he’s the chosen one™️ it gets sloppy. ( apparently James Cameron admitted skynet just chose this one guy and said “fuck you” to his existence).

I think the sequels also willingly ignore that the war was “won” in the first terminator. That they got the big victory and Skynet sending the T800 and technically the T1000, was a desperate last minute action to try and save its own ass before they took the finishing blow.

Dark fate falls hard on both problems, doubling down on the huge military power, flying, it’s bright outside, and tripling down on the savior complex /ignoring the source material stict.

This is all a nitpick

This is al technically one big nitpick. All of the sequels have something I can enjoy in them, like salvations Kyle or Genysis unironically despite some casting choices- (T3 and dark fate are debatable but I’ve already said enough about them…) im just harsh because there IS good in the sequels and they never quite reach that potential they show in some scenes. Also because the future established in the original and T2 is?? Really fucking interesting not only stylistically but also lore wise and world building wise but all the sequels went off the fucking rails instead of digging into a bunch of cool stuff directly at their disposal? Again Og older John is? Really interesting- like how’d he get the scar or what’s he like compared to when he was a kid? Etc (again I say maybe not the actor but the timeline cause edwards more than expressed wanting to come back)

This is getting long I’m gonna end it here, but I’d like to open it to a discussion?

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 01

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 10.3k [1/6]

notes: this fic was originally going to be a oneshot, but i changed my mind and decided i didn’t want to kill tumblr with a totally unnecessary 50k jk fic so 🤷🏻‍♀️ here is part one of a fic that 100% only came about because @puellaigmotum​ coerced me into it like 2 years ago (lmao rip 💀) and also bc i have zero self-control and am hopelessly h*rny for jungkook these days and don’t look at me i don’t wanna talk about it okay??? 🙈

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink, some ~under the table~ action, too much detail about jk’s dumb veiny arms probably, but at least he doesn’t have tattoos bc i started writing this before he got them and i don’t need to torture myself anymore than i already do!!!

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

It’s always been easy to spot your brother in a crowd. Passengers flood off the train, jostling around you on their way to the station’s exit, but even in the swarm you can perfectly see Jimin’s golden head of hair bobbing its way toward you, a deep scowl etched across his face. “You’re late,” he says in lieu of a greeting, his honey brown eyes raking over your scuffed suitcase distastefully as he comes to a stop a few feet away.

“And you’re just as impatient as ever,” you retort, coming to a stop before him with your luggage in tow. “Think you can lord it over me since you can drive now?”

“Don’t forget that I’m your ride home,” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I could just as easily leave you here to fend for yourself.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you tell him, raising a brow in silent challenge.

Jimin stares down at you unflinchingly, and you stare right back. The tension stretches between you, taut and heavy, until every passing second feels like a light year. Around you, the crowd slowly dissipates, but still you remain—two motionless statues locked in a wordless struggle. From somewhere overhead, a monotone voice announces the next train departure times.

Jimin’s mouth twitches. You blink, twice in quick succession.

And then your little brother breaks into a grin—one that’s so wide you fear his mouth may detach from his face entirely. An answering smile settles across your face as you watch him throw his head back, dissolving into laughter that you can’t help but echo.

“Damn it, Chim!” you say, instinctively grabbing onto his wrist when it looks like he might fall over. “Your poker face still sucks.”

“I’ve gotten better!” Jimin immediately defends. “I mean, you’ve got to admit that, right?”

“Nope.” You sigh and hold a hand over your head so you can measure your height against his ever-so-slightly taller frame. “Same old annoying kid I grew up with. Seriously, have you grown at all in the past year?”

“Whoa, too far, Noona.” Jimin takes ahold of both of your cheeks, pinching them affectionately. “You’re only a year older than me, you know. Besides, I’ve been taller than you for two years now!”

“I’m pretty sure hitting puberty at age seventeen isn’t something to be proud of,” you reply, pulling away from him with a mock grimace and giggling when he lets out an offended squeak. Playfully, you reach up to ruffle his hair, scrubbing your knuckles just a little too roughly against his skull.

“Noonaaa,” he complains, drawing out the last syllable until he runs out of air. “Jeez, you haven’t even been back for an hour yet and you’re already being mean to me. When do you go back to Seoul again?”

“Three weeks,” you reply, narrowing your eyes. “But I can and will make these three weeks hell for you. Don’t test me.”

Jimin snickers and drapes his arm over your shoulders. He picks up your suitcase with the other hand, and you thank him with another, gentler hair ruffle as the two of you start toward the exit of the train station. “College hasn’t changed you one bit.”

“And senior year hasn’t changed you,” you say, letting him guide you outside and breathing in the balmy summer evening air. Jimin’s brow furrows as he tries to remember where he’s parked, and you kindly take your suitcase back when he nods decisively and heads toward the left side of the lot. “You excited to graduate?”

He sighs, fumbling in his pocket for the keys as the two of you approach the car. “It’s going to suck. Your ceremony was boring as hell last year.”

“Wow, rude.”

Jimin looks up from where he’s unlocking the driver’s side door. “Am I wrong, though?”

You flash him a grin as he unlocks the remaining doors, heaving your suitcase into the backseat before sliding into the passenger seat beside him. “Nope. But afterward, you’ll be done with high school forever.”

“Thank god.” Your brother rakes a hand through his hair, mussing it further as he carefully starts the ignition and checks his mirrors with all the diligence of a new driver. Once satisfied, he pulls out of the parking space, meandering his way out of the lot and onto the main street.

The ride back to your childhood home is a short one, full of familiar storefronts and landmarks that dredge up all sorts of fond memories. You hadn’t expected your first year of university—away from your family and your hometown—to make you quite so emotional. But before you know it, Jimin is making the turn into your neighborhood, and you can’t stop the way your eyes begin to well up when you see your house in the distance.

As if reading your mind, Jimin glances at you as he pulls into the driveway. “Feel good to be home?”

You nod, blinking back tears. “Feels great.”

He grins. Pulling the key from the ignition, he climbs out of the car and grabs your suitcase, waving for you to head inside. Eagerly, you start toward the front door, but you barely make it halfway up the driveway when it bursts open, revealing your father standing there with open arms and an enormous grin. He’s just as tall as you remember, and looks exactly the same save a few more strands of silver lacing his hair. All of a sudden, you’re a little girl again, running up to give him a hug and giggling madly when he tries to scoop you up like he used to do so many years ago.

“Hi Dad,” you greet when he gives up and sets you back down on two feet. “Where’s Mom?”

“Cooking up a storm,” he replies, chortling. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he leads you into the kitchen where your mother is hunched over the stove with a spatula, delicious aromas wafting up from the array of pots and pans in front of her. “Honey, look who’s home!”

“Hi Mom,” you say, grinning when she whirls around, startled. The spatula, still dangling loosely from her hand, drips sauce onto the tiled floor, but she barely notices in her eagerness to give you a hug, throwing it down into one of the simmering pots and striding forward to wrap you up in a tight embrace.

“How was your trip?” she asks, pulling back and angling your face this way and that. “Did you sleep on the ride? Did Jimin drive safely?”

The last question draws a protesting whine from your brother, who has lugged your suitcase over the threshold and is now seated at the dining table, fiddling with a spoon. “My driving was fine, right Noona?” he says, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout.

“Yes, Chim,” you agree, laughing at the pleased expression that overtakes his face. Curiously, you walk over to the stove to inspect the food, your jaw dropping as you take in the assorted vegetables and meats. “Wow, Mom. Are you cooking for an army?”

“Jungkook is coming over for dinner,” she explains, following you over and plucking up the spatula again. “That boy has the biggest appetite I’ve ever seen—you remember, right?”

You laugh. “Of course I remember. He and Jimin were always stealing bites of my lunch at school.” Peering over at your brother, you fix him with a mock glare before walking over to the cutting board on the counter and sizing up the pile of onions and peppers sitting there. “It’ll be nice to see him again, though. How is he doing?”

To your surprise, a new voice answers your question—a voice that somehow manages to be simultaneously familiar and foreign. “Why don’t you ask me directly, Noona?” it says, and you whirl around, wide-eyed, to face the newcomer.

This can’t possibly be Jeon Jungkook, is your first thought upon seeing the young man standing in the kitchen doorway. The Jungkook you knew in high school was a scrawny kid—all gangly limbs and a nose that was too big for his face. The Jungkook you knew wore oversized white t-shirts that made him look even younger than he was, a look that was only enhanced by round wire-rimmed glasses that always gave him a look of permanent astonishment. The Jungkook you knew was nowhere near this tall, and definitely not this broad.

But this Jungkook—this Jungkook takes up nearly the entire doorframe with his bulk. Dark eyes stare at you from beneath equally dark hair, his gaze unhindered by his old glasses. A cobalt blue shirt stretches tight over his chest, and you swallow when you notice just how much the buttons are straining to contain the muscle underneath. Black jeans and simple black sneakers complete his outfit, and the entire look is so jarringly different from what you’re used to that you are left momentarily speechless, gaping like a fish out of water. Vaguely, you wonder when he got his ears pierced.

And then Jungkook—or at least, the young man claiming to be Jungkook—takes three steps forward, his entire face melting into a crinkly-eyed grin. You catch a glimpse of the adorably prominent front teeth that always made him look like a rabbit, and that’s all it takes to break the spell.

“Jungkookie!” you exclaim, darting forward to greet him. “It’s been so long!”

“Hi, Noona,” he replies, his grin widening at your approach. In an instant, he has you wrapped up in an embrace, easily lifting you off the floor in a display of strength that would’ve had a lesser woman swooning. His hands curl firmly around your waist, and you have no choice but to wrap yours around his nape, squeaking in protest when he spins you in a full circle.

“Kookie!” you gasp, wriggling helplessly in his grasp and huffing when he only cackles. “Put me down!”

Obediently, Jungkook lowers you back to the ground. His hands linger on your waist until he’s certain that both your feet are planted firmly, and it’s only then that he pulls back to get a good look at your face. “You know I’d never drop you, right?” he asks innocently.

“As if I can trust anything that comes out of your mouth,” you retort with a laugh. “I’ve seen you scam your way out of detention with those pretty doe eyes. Don’t try me, kid.”

Jungkook snorts. “Kid? I’m not that much younger than you. Plus I’m older than Jimin, y’know.”

“By a month!” your brother protests from the dining room, his blond head popping up from behind the vase of daisies serving as a centerpiece.

“Month and a half,” Jungkook stage-whispers to you, cupping a hand and bringing his mouth to your ear conspiratorially. His breath tickles your cheek, and you swat him away with a giggle that becomes a full-on laugh when Jimin lets out an offended cry and rises to his feet. Striding over, he pokes Jungkook squarely in the chest, his eyes narrowed.

“I invite you over to my house and this is the thanks I get?”

Your dad chooses that moment to interrupt from the living room. “Your house? When exactly did you start paying rent, Jimin?”

Jimin’s jaw drops. “Are you taking his side?” he asks in disbelief, glaring at Jungkook when he starts laughing. “I’m your son!”

“I’m your father,” your dad replies.

“And I’m your mother,” your mom pipes up, brandishing a spoon. “And I’m telling all of you to get your butts over to that dining table in the next ten seconds, or no dinner for any of you.”

Your dad, Jimin, and Jungkook immediately fall silent, cowed by her proclamation. Grinning, you join your mother at the counter, grabbing a handful of spoons and accepting the platter of kimchi she hands over. “Direct as always, Mom.”

She laughs and picks up a bowl of rice. “To deal with men like them? You have to be.”

Food in hand, you make your way into the dining room. The table is set, the steaming food arranged neatly in the center, and you watch as your mother takes her seat next to Jimin and leaves you to sit beside Jungkook on the opposite side. Your father beams from his spot at the head of the table, glancing at each of you in turn before turning and giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

“Look at you kids, all sitting at the same table again.” He sighs, and you’re certain that he’s thinking back to the last time all of you were together—well over a year ago, at this point. “It’s a shame that your parents couldn’t join us, though, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, they told me to apologize on their behalf. They have tickets for the theatre tonight, and couldn’t get a refund on them.”

Your father laughs and waves the apology off. “I’m sure we’ll catch them next time,” he says. “Pretty hard to avoid each other when you live next door, isn’t it?”

“Definitely,” Jungkook agrees with a chuckle. Then he turns to you, the silver hoops in his ears glinting in the light from the overhead chandelier. “I’m sure they’ll drop by soon to see you, Noona. Mom wants to hear all about Seoul—I think she’s worried about sending me so far away by myself.”

“Junghyun stayed in Busan for university, didn’t he?” your mom asks.

Jungkook nods. “Yep, he still lives downtown and everything. He wanted to come over tonight, but his work wouldn’t let him take the time off.”

Your mom sighs. “That’s such a shame. Is he at least attending your graduation?”

“He’s driving in the day after tomorrow for the ceremony,” Jungkook confirms. Then he pauses, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. His gaze flickers down to the plate of sweet potatoes on the other side of the table, and before he can even open his mouth, your mother is already passing him the plate. He thanks her with an embarrassed chuckle but digs into the food nonetheless, and everyone else takes it as a sign to follow suit. You’re in the middle of scooping rice into your bowl when Jimin speaks up again.

“So what’s it like living in Seoul?” he asks, his cheeks bulging with pork belly. “You have roommates, right?”

“Suitemates,” you correct. “But yeah, I live with three other people. Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jennie are all great though, so it hasn’t been a problem.”

Jungkook pauses mid-chew to gape at you. “You live with guys?”

“My building’s co-ed,” you explain. “We all have separate bedrooms, but we share a common space and bathrooms.”

Your mother—on the lookout for any potential future grandchildren, as always—perks up. “Namjoon and Hoseok sound like nice boys. Are you friends?”

“Yes, Mom,” you sigh. “We’re friends. Just friends.” And then before she can ask about whether or not any other boys have caught your eye, you quickly turn back to your brother. “So, what’s your plan for next year? Are you and Jungkook living together?”

Jimin hums. “Yep, that’s the plan. Unless you want to live with us too, Noona.”

You laugh. “Why, so I can protect you from all the bullies like I did in elementary school?”

He flashes you a cheeky grin. “More like so I can protect you from all the weird college guys. Who’s this Hoseok guy anyway? Do I need to beat him up?”

“Please don’t beat up Hobi,” you entreaty, giggling when he pretends to crack his knuckles. “Or Joon!” you add quickly when he remains undeterred and makes to stand up from the table to defend your honor. Balling up your napkin, you throw it at him, and both of you burst into hysterics when your makeshift weapon bounces off his forehead and straight into his glass of water. The rest of dinner passes in a haze of similarly playful antics and happy chatter, and by the time the last bowl is scraped clean, it feels as if you’d never even left.

“I’ll do the dishes,” you volunteer, standing up and gathering up the empty platters. Jungkook and Jimin are quick to jump to your aid, collecting any utensils that you missed, and you offer them a grateful smile as they follow you into the kitchen.

“Let me do the washing, Noona.” Jungkook rolls up the sleeves of his cobalt blue shirt to expose a familiar silver watch glinting on his left wrist—a watch that his father handed down to him when he was sixteen, and that had been worn by his grandfather before him. You still remember the day he’d first worn it to school, proudly displaying it even though the band was too loose around his narrow wrist.

He’s grown into it now, you realize. The watch no longer flops around like it used to, and sits snugly in place instead. Your eyes trace the silver buckle on the inside of his wrist before trailing up to follow the network of thin, branching veins in his forearm, admiring the smooth flex of muscle as he grabs a sponge from the wire rack hanging above the sink and squirts some dish soap onto the surface.

“I’ll dry,” Jimin chirps, selecting a towel and brandishing it. “Noona, do you want to help me? We’ll finish faster that way.”

Nodding, you pull another towel out from the drawer and rejoin the two boys at the sink. Jungkook washes quickly and efficiently, and you determinedly avoid staring at the way water trickles along the patchwork veins on his hands as he gives you bowl after bowl to dry.

It doesn’t take long for all the dishes to be washed and dried. The three of you take the time to put them back into the proper cabinets before bidding your parents a good night, heading out onto the back porch. Falling back into old routines feels like second nature, so you plop down onto the steps without hesitation and grin when Jungkook takes a seat beside you.

“Wait, I almost forgot!” Jimin exclaims, bouncing up from where he was beginning to sit down next to Jungkook. “I bought some beer earlier and left it in the trunk. Be right back!”

You watch your brother run off, his floppy blond hair a stark contrast with the deep blue evening sky. In seconds, he’s disappeared around the corner of the house, leaving you and Jungkook alone on the porch steps.

“Chim really hasn’t changed one bit,” you remark with a laugh, turning toward your dark-haired companion.

Jungkook chuckles. “The kid loves his alcohol, that’s for sure.”

“Please.” You elbow him in the ribs. “I know you’re just as bad as he is.”

“Maybe,” he concedes with another chuckle. “But come on, Noona, you can’t tell me you don’t enjoy a drink every now and then. What about all that college stress?”

You hum, leaning back on your hands and staring up at the sky where the full moon is just beginning to rise, surrounded by a smattering of stars peeking through the velvety darkness of night. “I never said that I didn’t enjoy a drink, or five.” Jungkook laughs at your remark, and you smile before letting out a soft sigh. “I’m glad Jimin got the beer, though. Maybe I’ll finally be able to stop stressing out about my internship.”

That sobers Jungkook up immediately, his eyes widening as he peers down at you and lays a gentle hand on your back. “Are you still worried? You already got the job, didn’t you?”

You nod slowly, thinking back to the job offer that you had accepted at the end of the semester. It had been difficult finding a company in your desired field that offered internships to first-year students, but with dogged persistence and a lot of luck, you’d managed to snag a summer position. It isn’t due to start for another three weeks, however, and while you’re grateful for the chance to visit your family, part of you also wishes that you didn’t have to wait such a long time. “I just have no idea what to expect, you know? The only jobs I’ve ever had were in retail and food service, and that was all ages ago. I don’t feel ready at all.”

A strong arm settles across your shoulders, and you look up to see Jungkook gazing down at you with something indiscernible sparkling in his deep brown eyes. “You’re gonna be amazing,” he murmurs, his voice whisper-soft. “You know that, right? You always are. This won’t be any different.”

And you believe him. Every detail of his face is bathed in silvery moonlight—the gentle slope of his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw, the little scar high on his cheekbone—and you wonder how you never realized how handsome he is before now. And maybe it’s the low, soothing timbre of his voice, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you—with unspeakable tenderness and gentle affection glimmering in his irises—but you lean in before you can even realize what you’re doing. You don’t look away, and neither does he.

Jungkook’s gaze drops, trailing down the slope of your cheeks until it lands on the curve of your mouth. He hesitates for a split second, his throat bobbing harshly as he swallows and sucks in a breath.

And then his lips are pressing against yours—soft and tentative and just a little bit chapped. Your eyes flutter shut almost on instinct, your body relaxing as he shifts and pulls you a little more firmly against him. Slowly, his arm finds its way to the curve of your waist and settles there. Your fingers curl around his nape, carding through his silky hair.

It’s only when Jungkook’s tongue darts out to run along the seam of your lips that reality comes crashing back down, your stomach plummeting down to somewhere around your toes as you wrench away from his embrace. “Kookie!” you gasp, your breathing labored. “We can’t!”

Jungkook blinks, momentarily entrancing you with the way the stars reflect in his gaze like glittering diamonds. “Why not?” he asks, reaching out for you again. “You kissed me back, didn’t you?”

Squeaking, you bat his hands away. “Jungkook, no! We can’t! You’re Jimin’s best friend, and god, this is all kinds of weird, and—“

The dark-haired young man looks like he wants to protest more, but the sound of footsteps coming back around the house sends both of you scooting back to your original positions on the porch steps. Jimin appears two seconds later, plopping down beside Jungkook cheerfully and dropping a six-pack of beer at his feet.

“What’d I miss?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to the tension lingering in the air as he pops open a bottle and hands it to you.

“Nothing,” you say immediately, accepting the proffered beer. The cool glass bottle is a welcome relief, and you hurriedly take a long sip when your mind unwillingly begins to wander back to just how warm and soft your dark-haired companion’s lips had been.

Jungkook is much slower to respond to Jimin’s question. His shoulders slump as he reaches down to grab a drink of his own, twisting the cap open viciously and taking a swig. “Yeah,” he mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Nothing at all.”

Luck must be on your side, because Jimin doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss as he grabs a beer for himself and flops backward, resting his weight on his elbows as he gazes up at the night sky. “It’s nice out,” he remarks, looking utterly at ease.

You are anything but. Beside you, Jungkook is sipping pensively on his beer, and you are painfully aware of the heat radiating off his body. Jimin is still chattering away, rambling about whatever pops into his head, and you take the opportunity to sneak a glance at Jungkook. His face is cast in silvery luminescence from the moon, his mouth pulled down into a deep, contemplative frown—and you are once again forced to shake off thoughts of how nice it felt to have his mouth pressed against yours.

This is Jeon Jungkook, you tell yourself sternly. Friend, neighbor, and Jimin’s best friend in the entire universe. You kissed him, sure, but it was a mistake. A moment of weakness. And it won’t happen again.

You repeat that over and over, silently reciting it in your head like a mantra, until, at last, you finally start to believe it.

///

You’re in the middle of brewing a fresh pot of coffee after a lazy morning spent sleeping in when you spot Jungkook outside through the kitchen window. He’s standing in the yard in a sleeveless white tee, wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand as he thoughtfully regards the row of hedges that serves as the property line between your house and the Jeons’ house next door. In his other hand is a shovel, and you can’t help the way your gaze automatically traces his exposed biceps, admiring the way they flex when he finally selects a spot and begins digging.

“Is the coffee done yet, Noona?”

Jimin’s voice yanks your attention away from your gardening neighbor, your vision overtaken by a mess of fluffy blond bedhead as he sneaks into the space between you and the counter and obnoxiously cuts you off from the pot of fresh brew. “Hey!” you protest, but Jimin just gives you a cheeky wink before grabbing a mug and pouring out a generous helping of piping hot coffee. After a moment’s thought, he pours you a mug as well, handing it over with an exaggerated bow.

You roll your eyes, but accept the warm cup nonetheless. Following him into the living room, you make yourself comfortable on the couch as he flops down onto the carpeted floor and turns on the television. Idly, he begins flipping through the channels in search for something to watch, and you endure random snippets of the morning news, a cheesy soap opera, and a series of infomercials before sighing and rising to your feet again. “I’m getting some food. Want some toast, Chimchim?”

“Mmm. Sure.”

Slowly, you meander your way back into the kitchen. Your mother is standing at the counter stirring sugar into her coffee, and you smile as you walk up to join her. “Morning, Mom.”

“Good morning, sweetie,” she says, taking a careful sip of her drink. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a log,” you reply with a grin. Grabbing the loaf of bread off the counter, you pull out a few slices and shove them in the toaster. “Do you want toast? I’m making some for me and Chimchim.”

“Just one slice for me,” she says, opening up the dish cabinet and pulling out three plates. Obligingly, you hand her one of the two freshly toasted slices and drop the other onto your plate. Popping some more bread into the toaster, you’re just about to grab the jam from the fridge when there’s a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it!” Jimin yells from the living room. You hear the soft pad of his footsteps in the hallway and the low creak of the front door as it swings open—and then your brother is snorting out a laugh at whoever is on your doorstep. “Dude, why are you covered in dirt?”

You’re beginning to have a sneaking suspicion as to who your guest is, and it’s confirmed when your brother’s question is answered.

“I’m helping Mom plant some hydrangeas out back,” Jungkook’s voice explains, his tall figure stepping into view a moment later. “Can you come help me lift the bushes?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “You could’ve just texted me.”

“Who knows if you would’ve answered?” Jungkook asks, laughing. “Knowing you, you’d just leave me on read. Besides—” and here he glances over at you, dark eyes glimmering with an emotion that you can’t quite pinpoint, “—I wouldn’t get to see two of my favorite ladies if I didn’t stop by.”

Jimin pretends to vomit at the line, but your mother laughs delightedly as Jungkook takes another step into the foyer and flashes her a winning grin. “Good morning, Jungkookie,” she greets him. “Have you eaten breakfast yet? {Name} was just making some toast, and we’ve got fresh coffee.”

Jungkook’s gaze slides over to you again, taking in the flannel pajama pants and oversized t-shirt you’re wearing. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says, though his eyes never leave yours. “I ate already, but coffee sounds wonderful.”

You are beginning to feel increasingly vulnerable as Jungkook continues looking unblinkingly in your direction. Thankfully, your mom pipes up, drawing his attention away with a decisive clap of her hands. “Coffee it is, then!” she says brightly. “{Name}, why don’t you grab Jungkook a cup?”

Hurriedly, you turn toward the cabinets, trying your best to ignore Jungkook as he chats comfortably with your family. Your success is limited though, and you can feel his penetrating stare lingering on your back even as you fetch a mug and fill it up to the brim.

“Noona.” Jungkook’s voice comes from behind you, much closer than you remember him being. “Can I have some cream and sugar, please?”

Somehow, you manage to reply without stammering. “Yeah. Sure.” Dumping some of the excess coffee into the sink, you spoon in some sugar and give it a quick stir. Just as you turn toward the refrigerator for the cream, a strong arm cuts you off.

“I got it, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs, backing you up against the counter as he tucks the little white carton into your outstretched hand. His proximity has your heart skipping several beats, and you almost drop the carton entirely when he speaks again in a husky whisper, his mouth at the shell of your ear. “Just a little bit, please.”

You are acutely aware of the heat radiating off of his body, warming your back and flushing your cheeks. Quietly, you open up the carton and pour a splash of cream into his mug, the swirl of white melding with the dark liquid within. “Is—is that enough?”

Jungkook reaches around you to open up the silverware drawer, grabbing a spoon and giving the coffee a stir. “That’s perfect,” he purrs, his hot breath stirring gooseflesh on the back of your neck.

This close to him, it’s easy to forget where you are and who you’re with, but you somehow manage to regain enough of your senses to wrench away and reclaim your personal space. “G-great,” you stammer, picking up the mug and shoving it into his hands, determinedly ignoring the ripple of his arm muscles as he accepts. “Um. Chim. Did you want your toast?”

“Yes, please,” Jimin says, barely glancing up from where he’s made himself comfortable at the kitchen island, idly playing on his phone.

Your mother pokes her head around the doorframe of the adjoining laundry room, where she has clearly started a fresh load if the sound of splashing water is anything to go by. “Don’t make your sister do all of the work, Jimin. Go help her—it’s your food, isn’t it?”

Obligingly, Jimin hops off the stool and grabs his favorite jar of jam, joining you at the counter. He takes the slice of toast you offer him, slathering it messily and taking an enormous bite. “Thanks for breakfast, Noona,” he says, blowing you an exaggerated kiss. “Ready, Kook?”

Jungkook raises his mug of coffee in acknowledgement. “Ready.” Then his gaze flickers back to you, twinkling with silent mirth. “And Noona—thanks. The coffee’s delicious.”

You can’t find the words to answer. Silently, you watch him disappear out the front door with Jimin, following his dark head of hair as it bobs across the yard. His biceps flex as he gestures for Jimin to help him lift a hydrangea bush, and your eyes linger on the stretch of defined muscle, tracing the network of prominent veins running along his forearm before your brain can caution you to stop. It’s almost as if you’re on autopilot, and by the time you zone back in, your gaze has wandered too far south for your liking. Letting out an audible groan, you tear your eyes away from the mouthwatering view of his thick thighs and return to your now-cold breakfast. And you don’t think about Jeon Jungkook again, pushing the image of his broad shoulders and handsome face into the darkest recesses of your mind.

Or at least, that was the plan. Jimin comes back inside after about an hour, tracking mud through half the house before your mother reprimands him and orders him to take off his shoes. Jungkook, thankfully, chose to return to his own home as well, and you immediately banish the thought of him showering off all the sweat and grime that has no doubt accumulated on his toned body. You shove away the mental image of water slicking his golden skin and collecting in the hollows of his collarbones, and when your mind conjures up pictures of what lies south of his waist, you resist the urge to scream into the pile of freshly laundered pillowcases your mom presses into your arms.

You’re just about to head upstairs to scream into a real pillow when there’s another knock on your front door—a familiar cadence that you heard just this morning. And that’s when you realize—to your complete and utter dismay—that Jeon Jungkook isn’t done tormenting you yet. Not by a long shot.

“You again? You do realize that this isn’t your house, right?” you ask, swinging open the door and thanking whatever gods may be out there that your voice remains steady. Then you raise a brow, glancing down at his change in attire. “Wait, why are you wearing a suit?”

Jungkook gives you an infuriatingly impish grin. “Do I need a reason?” His hair is still damp from the shower, a stray lock flopping down across his forehead, and as you watch him brush it away absently, you notice that he’s holding something in his free hand.

“What’s that?” you ask curiously.

Footsteps sound from behind you, interrupting before he can answer. “Jungkookie?” your mother asks, appearing at the foot of the stairs. “I thought I heard your voice. Are you here for Jimin again?”

Jungkook flashes her a winning smile and raises the garment bag he’s holding. “No, I was actually hoping to get some advice. I’ve got my suit ready to go for graduation tomorrow, but I can’t decide which shirt looks better. My mom likes how I look in blue, but I wanted a second opinion from you and Noona.”

To your utter annoyance, your mother coos and gestures for him to come in. He’s already wearing the blue shirt—a pale periwinkle one that reminds you of a cloudless day—but your mom takes the garment bag out of his hand and unzips it to look inside. “What are your options?” she asks.

“Blue, red, and yellow,” Jungkook replies, pulling each shirt off its hanger and holding them up to his chest in turn. “What do you think, Mrs. Park?”

“The blue is lovely,” your mom says thoughtfully, straightening his collar. “But this shade of yellow looks nice too. A handsome young man like you—you really can’t go wrong with any of these.”

Jungkook grins and scratches behind his ear, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Thanks, Mrs. Park.”

The dryer chooses that moment to beep shrilly, signalling the end of its cycle, and your mother darts off to tend to it, leaving you and Jungkook alone in the living room.

“What about you, Noona?” Jungkook asks, just as you’re about to try and sneak out under the pretense of helping with the laundry. “Which shirt do you like?”

“Does it matter?” you ask. “It’s just going to be hidden underneath those horrible black trash bags they make you wear.”

He laughs. “Sure, but what about before and after? You know my mom’s going to want to take a million pictures.”

“Can’t argue there.” Resigning yourself to your fate, you put your stack of clean pillowcases down on the arm of the couch and cross your arms over your chest. “Show them to me again?”

Jungkook raises the yellow shirt, holding it up for a few seconds before swapping it out for the red. “Well?”

You pause to consider it. “Red,” you decide after some deliberation, pointing at your choice. It’s a deep crimson color—almost burgundy—and you rub the silky material between your fingertips before taking it and replacing it onto its hanger. Jungkook joins you with the yellow shirt, his arm bumping into yours as you both reach for the garment bag, and even though you flinch away from the contact, Jungkook doesn’t let you stray very far. A strong hand clamps down around your forearm, and you inhale sharply when he backs you up against the wall and cages you in with his solid body.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Jungkook looks thoroughly unfazed as he blinks a few loose strands of hair out of his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Jungkook—” you hiss, struggling to see over his shoulder if your mother has returned. “Get off me.”

“Come on, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me. Ever since you got back—ever since we kissed—”

“A mistake,” you say, cutting him off with a finger to the lips and glancing around furtively to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “That was a mistake.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Was it? Because I really wanted to kiss you, and I’m pretty sure you wanted to kiss me too. You kissed back, didn’t you?”

“Y-you—“ You clear your throat and try again, cringing at how shaky your voice comes out. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Jungkook simply laughs. “Don’t I?” He inches closer until you’re chest to chest, his gaze darkening as it flickers downward and lands on your mouth. Your heartbeat quickens, thudding erratically in your ribcage. It would be so easy to push to your tiptoes and close the distance between your lips.

“God,” you huff. “You’re so—”

His other eyebrow rises to join the first. “I’m so—?” he presses, tilting his head as he awaits your answer. The loose lock of hair flops across his forehead again, and this time you cannot stop yourself from reaching up to brush it away.

“Shut up,” you hiss as your fingers drop down to wind into the soft hair at his nape. “Just shut up.”

And then you’re kissing him—really, really kissing him—pulling him down to your level and sliding your free hand up his infuriatingly toned chest.

“See?” Jungkook’s lips curl up into a smug smirk as he pulls away slightly, his warm breath fanning across your cheeks with every word. “I knew you were into me.”

“God, do you ever stop talking?” you retort, pushing him back until you have enough room to switch your positions and maneuver him against the wall.

Jungkook lets you pin him in place, blinking down at you lazily with his mouth still stretched into that maddening little smirk. “Only if you make me, Noona.” His hands slide down your sides, coming to a stop at your hips in an ironclad grip. “Only if you kiss me like that again.”

So you do. Your fingers tighten in his hair as you crush your mouth to his, and when his lips part you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook—still smirking—relaxes and lets you take control of the kiss, but his hands continue to wander. Before you know it, he’s already snuck underneath the hem of your shirt, rubbing warm circles into the soft skin of your waist. His lips move languidly against yours, his tongue careful and gentle in its exploration of your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you closer. You’re pressed flush against him by this point, pinning him between your body and the wall, and neither you nor he have any intent to move anytime soon.

The sudden slamming of a door jerks you back to reality. Here you are, standing in the living room where anyone could walk by and see you kissing your brother’s best friend—again. Shakily, you pull away from Jungkook with your heart in your throat, putting as much space as you possibly can between your bodies. “Fuck,” you mutter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. We can’t do this.”

Jungkook’s chest is heaving, his lips swollen and red. “{Name}—” he tries, but you shake your head and cut him off before he can continue.

“You need to leave,” you whisper.

“But—”

“Please,” you say, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. “Please, Jungkook. Just leave.”

Jungkook swallows, hard. And then, much to your relief, he picks up his garment bag, shoving both shirts back inside. “Okay,” he rasps. “I’ll go.”

Elsewhere in the house, you can hear your mother calling for Jimin. Your father is watching TV in his study—you can hear the low hum of voices and a laugh track. Your entire family is here.

And yet, you’ve never felt more alone as you watch Jungkook stride down the hallway and disappear out the front door.

///

Returning to your high school is odd. The hallways and classrooms are familiar, but they all seem smaller than you remember. And were the ceilings always this short? You aren’t sure. What you are sure of, however, is that Jungkook and his family are currently headed your way, with beaming smiles on their faces and colorful flower bouquets in hand. Greetings and congratulations are exchanged, and it isn’t long before you are face-to-face with Jungkook himself, a tight smile on his face as he meets your eyes.

“Hi, Noona.”

“Hi,” you reply. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

Now that the graduation ceremony is over, he’s taken off his robe to reveal the red shirt underneath. The silky material drapes over his torso and clings to the toned planes of his chest, and your fingers itch to run across the defined muscle. Swallowing down the urge, you instead gesture toward his parents, who are engaged in deep conversation with your own parents while Jimin chats with Junghyun off to the side. “I guess we’re all getting dinner after this, huh?”

He nods. “Yeah, at that one place downtow—“

“Jungkook! Jimin!” A feminine voice interrupts him mid-sentence, and you watch in surprise as both your brother and Jungkook are suddenly engulfed in a massive tangle of limbs. Immediately, you recognize Jisoo and Lisa—two girls you considered casual friends from your own high school days. The third girl in the trio of friends—Chaeyoung—is noticeably absent, but you don’t get a chance to question her whereabouts. “Can you believe it? We’re graduates!” Lisa is saying excitedly, still clutching tightly onto Jungkook’s shoulders. She’s pressed flush against him, her chest molded to his, and the sudden rush of jealousy that takes root in the pit of your stomach takes you aback with its ferocity.

Calm the fuck down, you instruct your pounding heart. Stop it, right now.

“Has Tae told you about the party tomorrow night?” Jisoo asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You guys better be there—and that means you, too, {Name}! It’s been forever since we’ve seen you!”

You clear your throat and attempt to smile. “Yeah, it’s been way too long. It’ll be nice to finally catch up.” Unwillingly, your gaze flickers back over to Jungkook and Lisa, doing your best to maintain a neutral expression when you notice the casual way his arm drapes over her shoulders.

Your attempts are in vain. Jungkook notices your stare immediately, a massive shit-eating grin spreading across his face. One eyebrow rises in a silent taunt, and you swear his grip around her tightens. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you instead turn back to Jisoo, finally voicing the question that’s on your mind.

“So, where’s Chaeyoung? I saw her during the ceremony, but haven’t seen her around since. She didn’t leave already, did she?”

“No, she’s still here,” Jisoo answers, exchanging a look with Lisa. Curiosity piqued, you watch her gaze dart over to Jungkook for a split second before returning to you, a tiny smile gracing her face once more. “She’s with her family right now, but she’ll be at the party tomorrow.”

“I’ll congratulate her there, then,” you say, returning her smile with one of her own. Silently, you wonder at the uneasy glance the two girls had exchanged, but decide not to press it, chalking it up to some senior year drama that isn’t any of your business.

“Well, we should probably get going,” Jisoo says after another beat. “We’re off to dinner.”

“We should be on our way too,” you agree, glancing over at where your parents are still chatting, having absorbed Junghyun into their conversation at some point. Bidding the two girls goodbye, you sidle over to join them, trying your best to subtly nudge your parents toward the door.

After what feels like an eternity, your parents finally decide that they’re ready for a change in scenery. The drive to the restaurant is blessedly short, much to the relief of your grumbling stomach, and you are more than grateful for the brief reprieve from Jungkook and his knowing smirk. It doesn’t last long, however, and you mentally brace yourself when you spot the Jeons’ car in the parking lot of the restaurant. Upon entering, you are quickly ushered to your reserved table where the Jeons are already waiting, and somehow in the shuffle you end up right between Jungkook and Junghyun, the former’s face dissolving into a satisfied grin as he watches you sit down.

Then he turns to Jimin, who’s seated on his other side. “Hey, man.”

You bristle at the blatant way he’s ignoring you. But two can play at that game, so you turn to Junghyun with a winning smile, laying a hand on his shoulder for good measure. The older Jeon brother is four years your senior, but despite the age difference, you’ve always gotten along well.

“Junghyun, I haven’t seen you in ages! How have you been?”

The elder Jeon grins and leans in to give you a hug. “Good, good—work’s insane, but that’s old news. What about you? How’s school going so far?”

You can feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, hot and heavy. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle under the weight of it, and you resist the urge to shiver. Instead, you give Junghyun’s bicep a final squeeze before pulling away, steadfastly ignoring the way Jungkook lets out a disgruntled hiss from between his teeth.

“School is good,” you tell Junghyun. “I’m trying to get all my general requirements out of the way early, so my first semester wasn’t very interesting. I took some more focused classes in the second, though, which made things infinitely better.”

The elder Jeon laughs. “Guess that means you’re on the right track then, huh?”

“Guess so,” you reply, laughing right along with him.

The server stops by to take drink orders, and your parents take it upon themselves to order food for the table as well. You continue chatting amicably with Junghyun as the server returns with a tray of water, sodas, and soju; beside you, Jungkook does the same with Jimin. The only break in conversation comes when the server—a pretty girl with a chirpy voice and a nametag that reads ‘Mina’—leans over to set a glass of Coke down in front of Jungkook. He thanks her with a crooked smirk and a low purr of gratitude that has her cheeks flushing pink, and it’s all you can do not to gape at him like a fish. The flirtatious quirk of his lips, the seductive tone—it all comes far too naturally to him, and you wonder for a moment just where the old Jungkook has gone. The Jungkook you used to know stammered every time he had to talk to an unfamiliar girl, and had trouble looking even you in the eye despite having known you since grade school.

But now, he’s nowhere to be found. The young man sitting beside you remains as calm as can be, shifting his body toward Mina so that he can request a straw.

“Of course, here you go!” Mina’s gaze lingers on his hand as he accepts the proffered straw, eyes widening when his fingers brush against hers lightly.

“Fast service,” Jungkook remarks, his voice dipping into a low, indolent drawl. “I like that.”

Mina giggles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She’s clearly about to respond to him—flirt right back, undoubtedly—but your father stands up and taps his glass with a spoon before she can open her mouth. “I want to make a toast,” he says, and you send him a silent, heartfelt thank you when Mina wisely chooses to make herself scarce. “Congratulations to Jungkook and Jimin, our two rad grads!”

An audible groan rises up from your side of the table, where Jimin has buried his face in his hands. “Oh my god, Dad.”

“What?” your father asks innocently. “I really think you’re rad, grad!”

Jimin groans again, muffled by the sleeves of his jacket. “I want the earth to swallow me whole.”

Laughter all around. More toasts are given, and the bottles of soju scattered around the table slowly dwindle down to their last dregs. Junghyun picks up the one closest to him and fills up your glass for the fourth time, drawing a protesting whine from your lips as you try to cut him off. “Wait, that’s not fair! Pour some for yourself too!”

“Relax, we can always order more,” Junghyun says with a laugh, topping off your glass before glancing around to find Mina. Much to your irritation, she’s already headed your way, bearing loaded platters of meat and vegetables and wearing a bright smile that seems to only be directed to Jungkook.

“I hope you’re all hungry!” she chirps, coming to a stop between you and the subject of her affections. You swear she shoots you a dirty look over her shoulder before turning back to the table, her cheerful facade back in place as she smiles at Jungkook. “Where did you want me to put the meat?”

“Anywhere it’ll fit,” Jungkook tells her with a suggestive smirk, keeping his voice soft enough so that only you and she can hear.

Mina cannot hide her answering smile. Likewise, you cannot hide the way your nostrils flare, throat bobbing as you swallow down the ugly feelings bubbling up in your chest. You can feel Jungkook’s gaze roving across your skin, but you refuse to look at him, stubbornly facing the front as Mina distributes food around the table. As soon as she’s departed again—her fingers brushing across the back of Jungkook’s chair in the process—you’re up and out of your seat, heart beating faster than you’d like to admit.

“Restroom,” you say shortly by way of explanation. It’s thankfully empty when you arrive, and you immediately make a beeline toward the sink to splash some cold water on your cheeks.

It’s absurd—this snaking jealousy coiling in your belly and winding up between the slats of your ribcage. Straightening up, you give your reflection in the mirror a stern look, silently willing the feelings in your chest to abate. Gradually, your heartbeat slows into a regular rhythm, your cheeks cooling, and after waiting another two minutes, you decide that it’s been long enough. Drying off your hands, you exit the restroom and wind your way back to the table, keeping your pace leisurely even when Jungkook looks up and catches your eye. His expression is unreadable, and you valiantly ignore his burning gaze as you take a seat.

“How is everything?” you ask Junghyun, picking up a spoon and piling your plate with food from the nearest platter.

Junghyun pauses mid-bite to answer. His mouth opens, but you don’t catch his answer because there is a sudden, heavy weight on your knee. A warm palm caresses the skin exposed by the hem of your dress, slow and sensual and deliberate. Your eyes widen and your lips part, but no sound escapes. The rest of the table’s occupants fade away into the background, conversations and laughter dulling into a low drone. Beside you, Junghyun is still talking, but all you can hear is blood rushing through your ears.

And on your other side, Jungkook is smirking.

The bastard.

Gentle fingertips skim along your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Your entire body stiffens, but Jungkook refuses to relent. He’s still chatting with Jimin, chuckling at a joke you didn’t hear, and you wonder how he can remain so calm when you are anything but. Your heart takes off in a sprint, clattering wildly against your ribcage, and for a few moments you are absolutely positive that everyone at the table can hear. Any moment, one of your parents will look over and see how wide your eyes are and how warm your cheeks feel. Any moment, Jimin will look down and see his best friend’s arm snaking beneath the table and realize what’s happening.

And then Jungkook squeezes your thigh, and all thought flies out of your head, dissipating like fog in the sunlight. He’s growing increasingly bold, his fingers trailing up until he can trace the hem of your dress, teasing at the soft material. Your breath hitches in your throat, and Jungkook’s smirk widens. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, trying to hide his smugness behind his soju glass, and for a moment you’re tempted to throw his drink in his face.

But more than that—more than anything else right now—you want him to continue touching you.

He’s sliding beneath your dress now, inching down to the delicate skin of your inner thigh and tracing nonsensical patterns there. You grip the edge of the table as he trails closer and closer to the lace of your panties, knuckles turning white against the dark wood. It’s a wonder no one has noticed your flustered state yet, and you cast concerned glances at Junghyun and Jimin before Jungkook notices your inattention. Punishingly, he slides a single finger into your panties, snapping the lace against your skin and covering the sound with a cough that he buries in his elbow. He can’t hide the way you jolt in your seat though, your knee thudding against the table. Junghyun gives you a worried look, laying a hand on your shoulder as he asks if you’re okay, and you hurriedly nod. And underneath the table, Jungkook resumes his ministrations, languorous and soft and deliberately avoiding the place you need him most, as if he has all the time in the world.

There’s a growing damp spot between your legs. You can feel it seeping through the cottony material of your panties, sticking uncomfortably to your folds. Jungkook’s touch is whisper-soft, caressing along your thigh until your skin is tingling, and it’s all you can do to swallow down the whimper that’s bubbling up in your throat. He’s thoroughly enjoying this—you can tell—and you’re certain he can feel the way you tense up when he suddenly drags a single finger up your clothed slit. A low hiss escapes your parted lips, and in an instant, all eyes are on you.

“Noona?” Jimin asks curiously. “Something wrong?”

“I—” Your mind whirs, searching for an excuse. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. The, uh, sauce was just spicier than I was expecting it to be.”

You haven’t touched a single thing on your plate in minutes, but no one seems to notice your obvious lie. Conversation resumes, and you determinedly pick up your spoon again, intent on getting something more substantial in your belly than the fluttering butterflies that have taken up residence there.

“You sure you want to eat that, Noona?” Jungkook’s voice reaches your ears—a low, dulcet purr that sends electricity shooting down your spine. “You should probably drink some water to cool down.”

And before you can answer—before you even manage to reach for your water glass—he’s slipped his hand into your panties, the warm pad of his thumb pressing experimentally against your clit. The slight pressure has you gasping, your heart pounding hard enough to leap out of your chest as you drop your spoon. Your hands drop down to your lap—one gripping the edge of your chair while the other finds its way around Jungkook’s wrist, and you aren’t sure whether you’re trying to stop him or spur him on. His arm muscles flex underneath your fingertips, and that’s all the warning you get before he angles his hand, a lone finger sinking inside your drenched entrance.

“Oh, fuck.” You can’t stop the strangled curse that escapes your lips, an airy hiss from behind clenched teeth. Your grip on Jungkook’s wrist tightens, but it doesn’t seem to dissuade him at all as he begins a leisurely pace, sinking deeper into your cunt with each thrust.

Luckily, no one hears your whimper. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you bite back the sounds threatening to spill out and instead focus on maintaining as neutral an expression as you can muster. Beneath the table, Jungkook remains relentless. Even when your mother looks over and addresses him directly, he doesn’t cease his ministrations, keeping both his tone and his pace even as he responds.

“Jungkookie, you’ve barely touched your pork belly. Are you full already?”

“Stuffed,” Jungkook replies smoothly. He punctuates the word by adding a second finger, and you almost bang your knee on the table again, your eyes going wide at his audacity.

Your mother pushes the platter of meat closer to him anyway. “No need to be polite, honey. Here, eat up.”

Obligingly, Jungkook picks out a few pieces with his free hand and piles them on his plate. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says as he brings some to his mouth. “It’s delicious.”

Satisfied, your mother turns her attention elsewhere. Jungkook returns his to you, and you almost groan aloud when his thumb brushes against your clit again, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud before he sheathes both fingers inside you once more. There’s a growing heat coiling in the pit of your stomach by this point, lighting every single one of your nerves on fire. Your body is screaming for release, and Jungkook seems more than eager to give it to you. He’s freed his wrist from your grip, leaving you to clutch helplessly at the table as he angles his fingers upward. No doubt he’s searching for the spot that will have you seeing stars, and you know he’s found it when a sudden burst of pleasure spikes through you. Your mouth falls lax, and Jungkook grins, thoroughly satisfied.

There’s something building inside you, something that has your tummy tensing and your toes curling in your shoes. Jungkook’s fingers dig deep, his palm rubbing against your clit with every thrust, and it takes every remaining ounce of your self-control to resist the urge to rock your hips into his hand. A bit more of that delicious friction, and you’ll be falling over the edge. You know it, and so does Jungkook if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

And then a voice is pulling you back to reality, a warm hand settling on your shoulder. You flinch at the contact, your startled gaze flying up to Junghyun’s, and balk when you see him staring at you with equal parts amusement and concern.

“I—what?” you stammer. “Did… did you say something?”

Beneath the table, you feel Jungkook’s fingers retreat, leaving you empty and aching for release. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook wipe his glistening hand on his napkin, a frown that can only be described as petulant settling onto his face.

“Whoa, relax!” Junghyun drags your attention back to him, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I just wanted to say goodbye. I have to be up early for work tomorrow, so I’m driving back into the city tonight.”

“Oh!” It takes you a few seconds to process his words. “Right, yeah. Have a safe drive back. It was good to see you.”

“Ditto,” he replies, flashing you a warm grin. “But hey, are you all right? You’ve been a little weird the whole night. Was it the food?”

Gratefully, you seize upon the excuse. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I think maybe something isn’t sitting quite right in my stomach, but I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it.”

He nods and leans in for a hug. “Take care of yourself, yeah?”

“You too. Bye, Junghyun.”

With the elder Jeon brother’s departure, everyone else quickly decides that it’s time to disperse as well. You adamantly refuse to look in Jungkook’s direction as your parents fight over the bill, focusing your goodbyes on Mr. and Mrs. Jeon even when he glances your way with a knowing little smirk and a soft murmur of, “Bye, Noona.”

You can’t look at him. Not when every movement reminds you just how damp your panties are, your core begging for relief. Not when he’s waggling his fingers in farewell—the gesture anything but innocent. “Bye,” you warble weakly, before fleeing to the car.

The memory of his fingers burns fresh in your mind later that night as you lie in bed, your hand stuffed down your panties and working furiously to find that sweet, sweet relief.

[celestialrry]

nerves

4.8k

HELLLLO IM WRITING THIS INTRO AND POSTING THIS WHILE FALLING ASLEEP SO ILL POST ALL THE DETAILS ADN ADD THIS TO MU MASTERLIST LATER I LOVE TOU ALL THANK YOU FOR FOLOWING AND REBLOGGIN KISSES FOT YOU ALL (this is like right after release of hs1 harry I think hope you enjoy mwah)

summary: Actress!Y/N goes onto a talk show, and the host has a surprise for her.

warnings: cursing, kinda sorta an anxiety attack?

Y/N was nervous.

This would only be the 5th talk show she’s ever gone on alone after being in the spotlight for a few years when her acting career took off. She started off with indie films and soon made her way to the red carpet, working with esteemed actors and actress’s she could only ever dream of meeting. It was pure bliss.

Of course, fame came with other struggles like hate from the media and random people on twitter, but at the end of the day she was so grateful she had the opportunity to be in the business. She loved getting into a character, finding out what makes them click, and fully emerging herself in whatever film she’s in. At the moment, she was promoting her new film, and being the lead, she had gone on a few talk show’s by herself, but they never failed to make her sick to her stomach. Having no one to turn to when it gets awkward, even not having body heat by her side in front of a live audience and a professional host made her body rack with goosebumps.

“Miss L/N?” 

Her head turned towards the door of the dressing room she had been sitting in for 15 minutes alone, trying to get her nerves down. “Yes?’ She responded flashing a forced smile to the assistant standing in the door way. “They’re ready for you.” She nodded her head and stood up, brushing the non-existent dust off her long dress and tumbled a bit on her heels to follow the assistant that was already walking towards the side stage. 

They instructed her to wait until her name was called, then walk onto stage and take a seat and have the show progress. So Y/N stood there, biting her bottom lip that was coated with clear gloss and her arms crossed around her waist, her heel covered toe tapping the floor in anticipation. 

“Now welcome our very special, and gorgeous guest, Y/N L/N!” She heard Jimmy Kimmel announce and took a short breath before stepping through the automatically opening curtains. She smiled and waved at the people sitting in the audience, happy to see people supporting her, and greeted Jimmy before taking a seat on the loveseat closest to his desk.

“Y/N! Welcome, how are you feeling tonight?” He flashed a comforting smile at her. 

She chuckled a bit due to her inability to not laugh in uncomfortable situations. “I’ll be honest with you Jimmy,” She said, adjusting herself in the seat. “M’ pretty nervous.”

“Nervous?” He asked. “Now, why would 2 time Emmy Nominee Miss Y/N L/N be nervous?” Jimmy teased.

Her eyes fell to the floor and her cheeks heated up before looking back at him. “Because,” She dragged out. “It’s always nerve-racking being on live TV.”

He just nodded and made a joke about feeling the same even though he does this every week.

“How are you feeling tonight?” She asked.

He smiled before resting his arms on his desk. “I’m feeling good, I have a surprise for you later, but I’m supposed to ask the questions now, will you let me?”

“Of course I will.” She smiled back.

Y/N met Jimmy the first year she really became “famous” and he had always been her favorite late-night talk show host just because he was never invasive or creepy. Her standards for hosts were quite low at this point. They continued on, promoting her new movie and such before he settled back in his seat. 

“So.” He said.

“So.” She said back, raising a brow.

“I hate to ask you this, but I honestly am curious myself,” He began, and her anxiety creeped up just a bit. “Now, we dug through your old interviews, and it seems in every single one, when asked if you had a celebrity crush, your answer was Harry Styles?”

She simply nodded, her cheeks heating up again, and a small smile creeping onto her face at his name. 

“I see that smile, Y/N.” Jimmy said, and she let out a laugh, her smile now wide.

“So, do you mind telling us why you like him so much, or should I say love him so much?” His brow raised.

Y/N laughed a bit more, just at her nerves, and took a breath. “Um, he’s always been such an inspiration for me to actually chase my career, I mean I knew him from when he was on X-Factor to be honest. Binged that show all the time when I was in middle school and to see a boy just 2 years older than me just go straight into being in one of the biggest boy-bands in the world was insane. He’s just so passionate about what he does and I admire him for that. Uh- from what I can tell he’s just very charming, sweet, funny, caring, and…” She trailed off her rant, biting her bottom lip just a tad.

“And?”

“He’s incredibly attractive.” She finished a smile on her face as she glanced at the floor again.

“Understandable. I think he’s a good looking man myself, met him a few times and got flustered,” Jimmy jokes before looking at Y/N. “What if I told you he was the surprise I had for you?”

Her brows furrow as she looks at the man sitting across from her. “What? Do you mean like a video-” She feels a tap on her shoulder. 

Y/N turns around, still massively confused, and then she sees him.

Harry standing in a simple black suit and white button up, only a few of the buttons actually buttoned and her jaw drops. “Hello.” He says, smiling at her.

Her eyes are wide and she looks like a dear in headlights before her face falls into her hands, elbows resting on her knees, her breath erratic. “No, this isn’t- no. He’s not here.” She says into her hands and the crowd laughs. Everyone laughs. 

“M’a bit offended you think I’m not really here, love.” Harry grins, and she pulls her face out of her shaking hands to see him.

She opens her mouth to say something and nothing comes out. 

Harry Styles, her celebrity crush since the ripe age of 14, a crush thats lasted 8 years being 22 now, and she’s only seen him on screens her entire life. “Fuck.” Was all she can say. He laughs a bit at her starstruck appearance and turns to Jimmy. “She’s not normally like this, right?”

“Right.” The host jokes, looking back at the girl on the couch, and his smile diminishes a bit. Her eyes are watering and she’s trying to keep her composure but her bottom lip is trembling and Jimmy’s now worried he’s about to have a sobbing woman on live TV.

“You okay Y/N?” Jimmy asks and her head quickly turns to him and then back to Harry. “I-fuck, I’m sorry.” She tries to laugh it off. Tries not to think about how the man she’s loved even before she knew what love truly was, was standing in front of her right now. 

“Don’t be sorry.” Harry says, slightly frowning but trying to keep a happy face. He’s standing in front of a girl he’s adored ever since he watched her first movie, for Christs sake, and she’s silently about to break down in front of him, because of him. 

Before he can even properly introduce himself, she’s standing on her heels, wobbling a bit, and looking up at him. “Can I hug you?” She mouths, not wanting her question to be picked up on the mic on the back of her dress and before her mouth even closes he’s stepping towards her, big arms wrapping around her waist. Her arms find their way around his chest and her head is resting on his shoulder and her eyes are squeezed shut and she’s mouthing “Oh my fucking god. Oh my god.” Without realizing she’s facing the audience who laugh at her inability to not fangirl. His head dips as he hugs her, reveling in her touch, and then she’s pulling away, remembering they’re on live TV and she can give him a proper hug backstage after this is over when they don’t have to worry about appearances. 

She’s still reeling when his hands slide off her waist and he sticks his hand out and says “It’s so nice to meet you.” She takes his calloused hand in hers and says “Same to you.” Blinking away unshed tears.

“Shall we sit then?” He asks and she looks at Jimmy admiring the moment before back at Harry. “You’re staying?” She blurts out before shutting her mouth abruptly. 

“If you want me too.” He grins that grin she’s always been infatuated by and she nods, maybe too quickly. “Of course I do- yes,” She coughs. “Yeah, uh, please, let’s.”

They both plant themselves on the loveseat, Y/N taking the spot in which she was before and Harry sitting on the other end, keeping a distance between the two. She recomposes herself and sits up. Harry looks at her for a moment before looking back at Jimmy. 

“How are y’Jimmy?” He asks.

“I’m doing well, proud of myself for inviting you, you’re the one person I’ve seen make Y/N go absolutely speechless here,” Jimmy jokes and Y/N groans and smiles, leaning her top half on the arm of the chair, her face in her hands before sitting back up. “How about you, Harry?”

“M’doing well, was very excited to see Y/N here and I’d hopefully say it’s the same for her.” He smiles looking at her, dimples flashing.

“Yeah!” Her voice squeaks. “You’re right. It’s the same for me. I-” She cut’s herself off from saying she’s shitting her pants at the moment. Figuratively, of course, but it’s not very appropriate. She still can’t believe this. Twitter is going to have a field day talking about how flustered Y/N was at this moment.  

“Have something you want to say, Y/N? To Harry, more specifically?” Jimmy asks.

“Um,” She begins, locking eyes with Harry. “Did you hear, what I said, um, before you walked out here?” 

The green eyed man nods. 

Her hands start shaking again and she awkwardly laughs. “I’m sorry you heard that.” She apologizes. 

“Why are you apologizing?” Harry asks her, tilting his head and Y/N was going to pass out. “I’m glad you think all those things about me, plus, it’s a nice ego booster to hear that you think I’m ‘incredibly attractive’.” He chuckles a bit, but truthfully he was happy his celebrity crush feels the same way about him.

She just laughs back and mumbles a “Thanks.” Before Jimmy starts up a conversation about whatever was going on at the moment.

Jimmy and Harry start talking about something and Y/N nods her head and laughs when it’s appropriate but she couldn’t process anything. Her hands were interlocked, shaking in her lap, and all she could feel was Harry. Harry sitting next to her, Harry breathing next to her, Harry waving his hands around while he spoke in front of her. It was all too much. 

Suddenly his knee lightly knocked against her own. She abruptly turned to look at him, but he was still looking at Jimmy. So she assumed it was a mistake, until it happened again, and this time when her eyes looked to him, his met her’s and he gently and subtly moved closer to their thighs were touching. Y/N let the leg that was crossed over her other relax and fall to the couch, only her ankles crossed, and she swore she could hear his breath stop for a moment, but it was too quiet to be sure.

A few moments after they both had gained the courage to barely revel in each others touch, Jimmy was ending the show. Y/N doesn’t remember what she said or did before the camera cut off, she vaguely remembers waving to the audience but she’s not completely sure. 

And then it’s over- just like that.

“This was so fun Jimmy, thank you for inviting me on.” Harry said, standing up (reluctantly) and going to give Jimmy a hug. Y/N on the other hand was watching the interaction and it all hit her like a wave again. Harry fucking Styles was standing in front of her. The men both turn to her as she stands up and she gives a weak smile and mumbles “I forgot I needed to text my assistant, m’sorry I’ll be back.” before speed walking behind the curtain and booking it to her dressing room. She quickly flips the “Do Not Disturb” side of the sign on the door to show and closes the door behind her, her breathing accelerating. 

She barely makes it to the couch before bursting out in tears.

Y/N couldn’t really put a finger on whether or not they were tears of joy, sadness, embarrassment, or a combination of all 3. She’s pretty sure it’s the latter though. She slips her heels off and lies on the couch, her hands over her face with not so silent cries as she tries to calm herself. 

Meanwhile, both Harry and Jimmy sensed that Y/N wasn’t just going to text her assistant. “Do you think- do you think I said something maybe?” Harry quietly asks the late night host as they walk behind the curtain and into a quieter hallway backstage. Jimmy simply shakes his head before locking eyes with Harry. “Have you seen any of the videos where she talks about you, Harry?”

He shakes his head no and the older man pulls out his phone, doing a quick scroll of his email before finding video file and opening it. “A couple of interns here made this combination of all the times she talked about you in her interviews.”We were gonna play it as you were coming out but her manager said it would be too embarrassing.” Was the only preface Jimmy gave before clicking play.

Y/N stood in an elegant emerald colored gown just off the red carpet, all done up for her first big movie premiere. An interviewer stands in front of her, holding a mic that the woman was moving between herself and Y/N. “So Miss L/N, we need some juicy secrets from the “It-Girl” herself. Who’s your celebrity crush?” Y/N looks at the floor, a shy smile on her face as the quietly says “Harry Styles.” The interviewer’s eyes widen and she chuckles a bit. “I feel you honey, what do you like most about him?” Y/N purses her lips slightly before speaking again. “Um, everything? I think he has a really good heart.” The interviewer makes a joke about how she likes his eyes instead and Y/N laughs, but anyone could tell it was forced. 

The screen begins to play another clip. 

Y/N is sitting on a couch with her co-stars of a movie she did a year ago, dressed in a classy blush colored suit, and they’re all playing a game with some other talk show host. “Let’s see who knows Y/N the best now, shall we?” The host asks, and looks down at the cards in his hand. “Who is her celebrity crush?” And almost immediately all of her friends were jotting down their answers on a white board. “That was fast,” The host laughs, as does everyone else. “Okay everyone, flip it around.” ‘Harry Styles’ was written on every single board. “Oh my god.” She smiles wide out of embarrassment and puts her face in her hands. 

It reminds Harry of what she did when she first saw him.

“Y/N! Looks like you’re absolutely smitten with Harry Styles, aren’t you?” The host asks, and before she could even open her mouth, a co-star of hers was already speaking. “She’d play his songs in her trailer in the morning, full volume, and sing them as loud as she could. It was a good way to wake us all up.” He jokes, and everyone laughs at that. “Whenever he’d post a photo on instagram, or tweet something, I’d see tears in her eyes.” Another co-star speaks up. The audience laughs again and she looks to them. ‘I’m serious! Y/N absolutely adores him.” By this time Y/N’s face was out of her hands and she was sinking into the couch. “Are you embarrassed, Y/N/?” The host jokes “Of course not, well I didn’t want to get absolutely exposed, but I’m not embarrassed to be a fan, could never be embarrassed to be a fan of him, he’s… he’s amazing.”

The phone then fades into yet another clip.

This time, Y/N is sitting in a stool, doing the Wired Autocomplete Interview, and she tears off the second paper of the question, “Is Y/N L/N…” . “Is Y/N L/N,” she reads and the paper catches after the word “dating” is revealed. She looks up at the screen, a twinkle in her eyes as she shoots a close-mouthed smile at the camera. She turns back to the board and rips the paper off, struggling a bit and laughing, until it’s revealed. “Is Y/n L/N dating… Harry Styles”  She bursts out laughing, her free hand clutching her stomach.

Harry frowns a but at this, and he didn’t feel like thinking more about why.

 “Um,” She begins, “Sorry, I just- do I really talk about him, that much? S’a bit concerning.” She mumbles to herself. “Yeah, no, I’m not dating Harry Styles, he would never. Though, I like how people think it could be a possibility, thats quite funny. I’ll take the… hidden compliment, is that even the right phrase?”

The screen goes to another clip but Jimmy pauses it there and turns off his phone, turning to Harry. “You didn’t do anything Harry, it’s just you being here, she’s probably overwhelmed and-“

“Mr. Kimmel? Jones needs you.” Someone calls out to him down the hall and Jimmy slips his phone in this pocket and sighs. “Sorry, gotta handle this, thank you, for coming.”

“It’s okay,” Harry assures him, “Thanks for having me.” And at that Jimmy rushes down the hall in search of Jones, and Harry stands in the same spot

Harry knows how much he means to his fans, he’s seen them sob at concerts, break down at meet and greets, and when they tell him how much they love him when they run into him on the street. He knows this. But this felt different, for some reason. Maybe it was the burning feeling in his chest when she laughed off how he would never be with her, for what particular reason he has no clue (or just doesn’t want to address it), or how he couldn’t help but pop a dimple when he heard she loves his music. He wasn’t sure.

What he was sure of though, is that he needed to speak to her again, hug her for longer, actually get to know Y/N. So he walked into the main back room, walking down different halls until he came across the one that read “Dressing Room #4” and Y/N’s name scribbled in messy handwriting on the white board underneath. He knocked a little rhythm, and waited.

Y/N was still crying, to put it lightly. Maybe hyperventilating was the right word, because she was breathing quite fast, and there was a steady stream of tears flowing down her cheeks. She heard the knocks and attempted to calm herself down a bit, yelling out a “One second!” Before wiping under her eyes and walking to open the door. “Eliana,” She began, ready to wave her assistant way (not that she didn’t adore her, but Y/N needed to be alone before talking about everything), “Can you come back in like 15 minutes, I’m sorry I just need to-”

Her mouth closed when she saw Harry outside of her door, his small smile quickly fading into a frown as he took in her state. “Y/N I wanted to- are you okay?” He asked, stepping a bit closer, trying not to push any boundaries. When she didn’t respond and he saw her bottom lip quiver a bit, his chest clenched. “Can I come in? Can we talk?” He gently asked, eyes running over her puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks, and disheveled appearance. 

She nodded and he walked in, and she gently shut the door behind him. He turned around to look at her and when his eyes met her’s, she couldn’t take it anymore. She let out a gut-wrenching sob and her face fell in her hands as she shook her head. “I-I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.” She choked out and he stepped towards her, his hand coming to rest on her elbow. “Y/N, please, don’t apologize.” And without thinking he took the last step towards her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her firmly, one of his hands cradling the back of her head. Her hands fell from her face and she held him back, arms wrapping tightly around his torso yet again.

As she cried into his chest, he mumbled a soft, “Breathe for me, love.”, and she tried to get her breathing to match his own deep breathes. “I’m sorry,” Y/N says for the millionth time. “I told you to stop apologizing, Y/N, you haven’t done anything wrong.” He frowns to himself, that burning feeling in his chest again. She reluctantly pulls away, and his hands remain on her arms as her own come up to wipe the tears flowing out of her eyes. 

“You didn’t sign up to be here and have to deal with a crying fan, Harry.” Y/N sighs, finally looking up at him. 

“Hey, I came because I wanted to see you, I’ve seen your movies and I think everything you’re absolutely incredible at what you do, and when Jimmy called asking if I could come to surprise you I jumped at the chance to finally meet you. I know what I signed up for.” He says, his thumbs rubbing the skin of her arms gently.

At his words she let out another sob, her shaking hands coming up to cover her face for a moment yet again. Harry’s eyes widened, he was telling the honest truth, and he didn’t think he said anything wrong. Y/N however, was seeing in person, how king he truly was, and it was just another reality check that the Harry she’s loved for so long really is the same in real life; it was too much to handle. “Thank you,” She sniffles, looking up at him again, meeting his piercing green eyes. “I just, I’ve adored you for years, still do, and I never thought I’d meet you, even after I started getting ‘known’, I always thought you were like, too perfect to be real, and now you’re here and you’re real, and y’know when you meet a celebrity who seems so sweet in interviews and all that but they turn out to be an absolute prick? It’s not like that, you’re the same person I’ve loved over a screen, I- you’ve been my inspiration for fucking years and I don’t know. It’s just a lot.” 

Now her hands were on his arms and they stood there for a moment, just looking at each other.

“M’not perfect, Y/N.” Harry says softly. Y/n chuckles a bit, glancing to the side before meeting his eyes yet again. “I know, I know the ‘nobody’s perfect’ crap, but if you’re insistent on it, then I think you’re the closest thing there is to perfect, Harry.”

His cheeks turn pink at her confession, and a small smile weaves its way onto his face. “Thank you,” He finally says, before bringing her into another hug, this time her arms wrapped around his neck, and he bends down a bit to hold her tighter. “For everything you said, seriously, you’ve got no idea how much it means t’me.” He admits, still reveling in her touch. She slowly pulls away, noting in her head that he never seems to be the one to let go first. “Of course, wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.” She smiles weakly, still drained from all the emotions flowing through her. He just smiles at that, before his hand drags down her arm and he hold her hand, wordlessly pulling her over to sit on the couch. 

He doesn’t let go of her hand as they sit quite close facing each other. “Do y’wanna hear a secret? It might make you feel better.” He suggests, cursing himself for being willing to do anything to see her smile fully. “I wish I could lie and say that it’s something I wouldn’t know, but I think I know a bit too much about you.” She says, letting out a small laugh, and he does too. “I promise you don’t know this.” He mumbles.

“Okay, go for it.” She says, holding his hand a bit tighter. 

“Well, after you bolted here, Jimmy showed me a few of your interviews, and I wanted to tell you that you’re my celebrity crush too.”

Her jaw drops and her eyes widen, a face that looks eerily similar to when she saw him for the first time just an hour prior. “You saw my interviews?” She gasps, her voice cracking at the embarrassment of him seeing her shamelessly confessing her love for him about a million times. It was safe to say she didn’t hear the rest of his confession.

“That’s what you’re focusing on here?” Harry laughs and raises a brow at Y/N.

“What else is there to focus on,” She groans, taking her hand out of his and burying her face into her hands yet again. “I can’t believe Jimmy showed you that, I’m never coming on this show again.” 

Harry grins, a dimple popping as he gently wraps his arms around her wrists, pulling her hands off her face. “Did y’hear what I said after that?” He asks softly, his eyes bring into her own. She shakes her head “no” in response and he takes a quick breath before telling her yet again. 

“I said, you’re my celebrity crush too. I’ve watched everything you’ve been in and I think y’are absolutely amazing, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t think you’re beautiful, inside and out.”

Y/N’s jaw drops for the thousandth time that night. 

 “You’re fucking with me.” She deadpans, her face blank and mind swimming with emotions.

He frowns and squeezes her hands. “M’not, swear to you.”

She shakes her head in denial. There’s no way she was Harry Style’s celebrity crush. Not in a million years would she ever think those words would be spoken, much less even thought of.

“You don’t believe me?” Harry asks, his head tilting a bit to the side.

“I believe tha you’re just too nice and you feel bad for me, so that’s why you’re telling me this.” Y/N admits to him, a sad smile on her face.

“Really?” He asks, letting go of her hands and bringing one of his own to his pocket. 

“Really. I appreciate it, I do, but you don’t have to try and make me feel less humiliated, I think we’ve already passed the point of no return.” Y/N says, laughing a bit.

“Mmm, okay,” He smirks. “Well that just won’t do. May I have your number?” 

She raises a brow as he pushes his phone into her hands, already pulled up on a new contact. She types in her number and “#1 fan” in the name and hand the phone back to him. Harry laughs when he sees the contact name and saves it to his phone, then putting it back in his pocket. 

“What was that?” 

“What was what?” Harry muses, a teasing glint in his eye.

She purses her lips. “Why did you just ask for my number?”

“So I can contact you of course,” Harry smiles. “How else am I supposed to set up another date with you?”

“Another?” Y/N questions, her lips turning up.

“’m a gentleman of course, would never ask you out on a first date over the phone,” Harry calmly explains. “So would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner tomorrow night?”

Y/n hesitates, unsure if this was still an ask out of pity. “You can meet me at my house, of course if you’re comfortable, and I’ll order us takeout to eat on my porch.” He continues, getting more exciting as he imagines how the date would go. 

“What makes you think I’d say yes?” She teases and his mouth gapes. 

“Oh fuck off.”

[libraryofloveletters]

Misplaced Promises

Eddie Diaz x Sister!Reader

Warnings: sibling arguing, general protectiveness, a few swear words and that’s it I think ? 

Category: angst/fluff

Word Count: 3.6k

Author’s Note: This one mostly focuses how Eddie tries his best to keep promises he makes and be a good brother but he keeps fucking up. I also tried my best for this to follow a timeline and make it make sense with canon but idk, I made shit up go with it. // 

---- 

14 years old // 19 years old. 

The 2 of you were 5 years apart but you were attached at the hip. Eddie was your big brother, the guy you looked up to the most, the person you went to when you didn’t know what to do. You had 2 sisters but what you and Eddie had was different. Sophia and Adriana were the two older ones, they stuck together and they included you but it wasn't the same. 

The day before Eddie announced that he enlisted, he had been quiet, shifty and weird all day. He avoided you at all costs. You needed him to look over a project for you - seeing that you ended up with the same English teacher he had in high school but he kept coming up with excuses as to why he couldn't help you. 

“Running to the store to pick up something for mom, I'll check when I get back” 

“Going to play some ball with the guys, remind me when I get back” 

“Gonna shower, I'll do it after” 

“Let me go see Shan for a bit, I'll check it when I come home” 

Excuse after excuse, he was up to something and knew you would be able to tell so he ignored you at all costs. The next morning at breakfast, he announced that he was enlisting, Shannon was at breakfast too and she didn’t seem shocked at all. 

Your father asked him why, your mother began crying and your sisters wished him good luck and hoped that he would be safe. You on the other hand, had your eyes glued to Shannon. 

“You knew?” your question directed straight at her. 

She nodded, “he told me last night” 

“Huh,” you scoff, getting up. “you told her before you told us ?” looking towards your brother. 

“y/n, don’t” his look pleading you not to start and you didn’t, simply walking away and going to your bedroom. You can hear bits of the conversation from your room, Eddie telling your parents that he’s only going to do one tour just until he finds what he really wants to do. 

It was a while before someone came looking for you and no surprise, it was Eddie. 

“Can I check the paper for you now?” he sticks his head in from the doorway, waiting for your answer- his way of hoping that you’d talk to him. 

“Sure” nodding toward the computer on the desk. Eddie made himself comfortable in the chair and began going over the paper. The keyboard clicking as he edited the paper and your sighing were the only sounds to be heard. 

Everyone had been dealing with the news differently. Your father had turned to whatever project he was building in the backyard, your mother had stepped out- probably to go to the store to get stuff to make one last proper meal for him before he left and your sisters seemed to be handling it well, you could hear them bickering in the hallway over who would get his room as they passed by. 

It’s not that they didn’t love him, they just had a different version of the world and of love. 

The whole family did.  

Sophia and Adriana were the first two, all the love and support of your parents was what they basked in. 

Eddie was the only boy, automatically gaining him an in as a mama’s boy and his father’s only son, someone to show off- he was their pride and joy. 

That left you, not that they loved you any less because they ‘love all their children the same’ but you never got the parental love and affection that your siblings did. Your parents were busy working and now that you were in high school and capable of looking after yourself, you saw them even less. Eddie had always been there, at the recitals, school concerts, whenever you learnt a new trick and was looking for someone to show, he was there. 

In some way, Eddie raised you more than your parents did. 

That’s why you couldn’t wrap your head around it. 

“Couldn't just find a job here like every other lost kid after high school ? You had to go sign up to get yourself killed?” sitting up, you look towards him. 

Eddie sighed, leaning back into the chair and looking at you. He looked sad, almost hurt. “I didn’t ‘sign up to get myself killed’” he tells you, “I can’t sit around watching Soph and Adriana get their lives together meanwhile I'm still living with mom and dad and I have no idea what to do” 

“So what? you take a little longer to get your life together, that’s not the end of the world.” 

“I’m supposed to know what I want to do, I've been out of high school for a year and a half. Most people have already moved out of their parents’ houses” 

“God you’re so stupid” you groan, falling back onto the bed.

“Excuse me?” he looks at you, obviously offended. You get up off the end, pacing the room for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. 

“Just because you’re lost doesn't mean you sign up for the fricking army! Eddie, you could die” your voice breaks at the end of the sentence. Then and only then did Eddie really see how upset you were, you really thought he could die- yes there was that possibility but he knew that when he signed up. He gets up off the chair, you were now facing the window, not wanting him to see the tears that were forming. His hand resting gently on your shoulder. 

“I’m not gonna die” he whispers, pulling your shoulder towards him which caused you to turn. “You better not, I'll kill you” 

“But I'll be de-” “shut up” you give him a look, he chuckles and pulls you in for a hug. “I promise I'll come home, who else is going to keep you in check?” he teased which earned him a smack to the side, “more like who’s gonna keep you in check” you rebutted, a smile on your face now. Eddie kissed the top of your head, his cheek now resting atop of head - abuela’s words ringing in his head. 

“Don’t make promises you can't keep Edmundo” 

She had scolded him for promising to give his sister her candy back after he knew he was going to eat it (and he did, but that’s besides the point) 

He promised to come home but he didn’t know if he would. 

--

17 years old // 22 years old 

“We’re having a baby!” Eddie’s arm around Shannon as they announce the second piece of exciting news for that evening to the family.

Eddie had finally returned from his first tour with the announcement that he and Shannon were getting married all while they were expecting as well. Your parents were the first up to go congratulate the love birds, your sisters are next and you follow last. Hugging Shannon who was already beaming with happiness and then your brother who hugs you for a second longer than needed, whispering that he wants to talk to you afterwards. Humming, you step back and go to help your mother set up for dinner. 

The rest of the evening is spent talking about when the baby is arriving, the plans for the wedding and whatever other exciting things are happening for them at that moment. You tuned out about halfway through the conversation, only replying with the simplest answers to make it seem like you were actually listening. 

Your sisters, mother and Shannon were in the kitchen all gossiping and making plans for the wedding. A big church wedding, ‘do it right’ as your mother would say because ‘if you do it right the first time, you don’t need to do it again.’

The whole big wedding thing was a scam- a pile of bullshit that you wanted no part of. Don’t let that fool you, you were beyond happy for your brother, becoming a husband and a father- those were things the two of you used to joke about, thinking that it was such a long time from then yet here you are. 

The door slammed as it shut, Eddie sitting beside you on the porch. He set a bottle on the step beside you. You glance at the bottle and then at him, brows furrowed. 

“Thought you could use a drink after all the exciting news” he hums, taking a sip out of his own bottle. 

You let out a dry chuckle, taking a sip yourself. “Yeah, congrats dude. Husband and baby daddy in one go ? You got the guys around here beat” jokingly nudging him with your shoulder. Eddie laughs, “yeah.” the word kind of trailed off, there was more to the answer than he was letting on. 

“What's wrong ?” 

“Are you really happy for me ?” he turns to you, “I know you weren't exactly happy when I left, especially that I told Shannon first. I just.. you’re my little sister and it means so much that you’re on board with everything-” your hand rests on his. 

“You always were kind of an idiot huh?” you pat his hand, Eddie looking clearly offended again. “Of course I'm happy for you. You’re my brother and no matter how much we fight, there’s no way I wouldn't be there for you. Eddie, you’re going to be an amazing dad, you know that right ?” 

“Yeah ? You think so ?” 

“Mhm hm, know how I know?” 

“Do tell” 

“Because you raised me and I turned out just fine” you smiled and so did Eddie, shaking his head. 

--

23 years old // 28 years old 

Eddie’s place was covered in boxes, the fight with your parents was the last button to be pushed. He packed up the remnants of his life in El Paso and was on his way out to the door.  

Christopher was sitting on the couch, his favourite show on tv as you were packing up the last of the dishes in the kitchen. Eddie had just stepped back in after taking some boxes out to the truck. You leant against the counter, looking at him. He knew you weren't the biggest fan of his plan but you supported him nonetheless because that’s what siblings do. 

“What? Why do you keep staring ?” he snapped. 

“Jesus, who pissed in your coffee?” rolling your eyes at your brother.  

“Sorry, I'm just ready to get out of here” he tosses a few things into a box. There had been unspoken words between the two of you since he mentioned that he wanted to move. You didn’t say anything, just listened and helped pack boxes but all of that stops now. 

“Are you sure this is the smartest thing?” 

“What do you mean?” he stops what he was doing and turns his attention to you. 

“I know mom and dad were in the wrong for asking- telling you that Chris should move in with them, that’s bullshit. He’s not their kid, he’s your kid but why are you running Eddie ? You have family there besides them, Sophia and Adriana and me. I’m here Eddie, I've always been here, helping you with Chris since Shannon left.” 

“That’s exactly the point, Shannon left. She upped and left us y/n, left me to raise Chris by myself.” 

“So did you.” you tell him what you had been waiting to tell him since Christoper was a baby. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” the anger visible on his face. 

“You left. You upped and left Shannon when she needed you the most, she needed a partner that was here and not thousands of miles away. She just had a baby- your baby and you left her to go to the fucking desert! you risked your life for what ?! you had a family Eddie! You promised just one tour but you just had to go back, you had a family that needed you!” 

“Exactly! I had a family that needed me! That’s why I left, I had to provide for them.” 

“Don’t give me that shit. You wanna know why mom and dad walk all over you when it comes to raising Chris ? Because you left! You fucking left when the mother of your child, your wife and your child needed you! He needed a father and you left Eddie! Do you know what that does to a child?!” 

“Don’t tell me how to raise my child and you sure as hell don't get a say in where my marriage went wrong!” the two of you stood in the kitchen shouting at each other. 

The things you said were nothing but what you felt was the truth - he did leave Shannon after she had Chris, when she needed him to be there. You weren't siding with her but you weren't picking up for him either- someone had to let him straight and your parents would never dare say the things you would say to him. Although they didn’t like his approach to raising Christoper, they would never say that because Eddie was their son. They much rather half ass suggest things and beat around the bush than tell Eddie straight what they felt. 

The rest of the night was quiet, nothing left to be said between the two of you. Tucking Chris into bed one last time before they leave, you spend the night because you promised Chris you’d be there when they left. 

The morning comes and Eddie is quiet, no surprise there. Chris is attached to your hip and the 2 of you stood outside the house, saying goodbye. You crouch down in front of your nephew, “will you come visit?” he asks you sweetly, your heart breaks a little knowing that you won’t be visiting anytime soon but you put on a smile for him. “Of course, only if we stay up late and eat all the candy we can find” you tickle his side, earning a full belly laugh- your favourite sound. 

“I love you always, you know that right ?” you look up at the little boy who's nodding. “I love you” he smiles, his finger tapping your nose, yours comes up to mirror his action. 

“Okay, give me a big hug and you be good for your dad, he’s a good guy. He just bugs out sometimes” you hug Christoper, his arms wrapped around your neck as you pick him up, carrying him to the trunk. 

Eddie comes out just as you’re putting Chris in. He hands you the keys to the house as he checks to make sure Chris is buckled in properly. 

The two of you standing there awkwardly before Eddie mumbles bye and walks around the truck. Stepping back, you watch as they pull you, Christoper waving to you from the window. 

--

25 years old // 30 years old

El Paso had treated you well, growing up there and going to school but you needed a change now. Applying to teaching jobs all over the country, you hear back from two- one is Minnesota and one in LA but you couldn't handle the cold so LA it was. 

The staff at the school were sweet and welcoming, you had arrived just in time for the new school year. The woman at the front desk was asking you some standard questions when she came across your name on the form.

“Miss, is it l/n or Diaz for your last name ? You have both listed here” she looks to you for an answer. You stared at the paper in front of you- l/n was your mother’s last name and Diaz was your father’s. All your legal documents had Diaz on it but you weren’t sure if you wanted to go by it or not, maybe make something for yourself with the Diaz family name attached to you.

“Miss ?” She asked again, looking at you.

“Diaz. Y/n Diaz is fine” 

Classes start and you’re getting settled in nicely, there’s still some shuffling around in terms of students and you get a finalized class list at the end of the week. Not really looking over it, you set it on the desk until the next morning when you say hello to your new class.

You begin writing your name on the board as the children set in.  

Ms. Diaz in big bold letters. 

“Hey! We have the same last name!” a little boy calls out- voice almost identical to your Chris’ voice. 

Turning, there he was sitting n the middle of the class, your nephew Christopher - except no one knows he’s your nephew nor did he seem to remember that you were his aunt. 5 years without a phone call or a visit is a long time, you wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't remember you and he doesn’t. You treat him as you would treat the rest of your students. 

The end of the day rolls around, Chris is the last student waiting with you. It was getting a bit chilly so the two of you headed into the classroom. Christoper tells you about his dad- unknowing to him that Eddie is your brother and talks about how he’s a firefighter and all the cool things he got to do when he visited the station. 

A blonde man, tall and built in stature comes running into your classroom. “Chris! Buddy!” he heads over to the boy, giving him a hug. “Buck!” the boy smiles, returning the gesture. It was obvious that he knew Chris, the man noticed you watching them. 

“Hi, I'm Ms. Diaz, y/n. Christopher’s teacher” you introduce yourself. The man smiles, “I'm Buck, I work with Christopher’s dad” 

“He sent you to pick up Chris ?” 

“Oh no, he's parking, I just came in to find him because we didn’t see anyone outside. Sorry about that, work ran late” he apologizes. 

“No worries, Chris is a great kid. oh buddy, I was supposed to give you a sticker for your work today hold on” you leave Chris and Buck by the door as you go back to your desk, looking for a sticker sheet. When you returned, Eddie was there with Buck, both men had their backs turned to you. 

“Yeah! She has the same last name as us dad, there is she” the boy smiled, waving at you. “Ms. Diaz!” he shouts as you make your way over. You don't look at the men instead you step past them, crouching down in front of Chris showing him the sticker sheet. 

“Which one would you like?” showing him the sheet, Christopher picks out a little green star with a smiley face on it. Peeling it from the sheet, you stick it on his shirt. 

“Can dad and Buck have matching ones too ?” he asks sweetly and who were you to turn down such a cute face.

“Of course,” smiling at him, you stand and turn to Buck. “Can I ?” he nods, watching as you repeat the process and stick the green star to his shirt. 

When it comes Eddie’s turn, you can feel Buck’s eyes on you and you see him move to Eddie as well. As for Eddie himself, his eyes were wide, he hadn't spoken to you in almost 5 years and his parents refused to tell him anything other than ‘she’s fine’ when he asked. You didn’t ask him, you just stuck the sticker on him, on his forehead to be exact. 

Eddie pulled you in for a hug, a well needed yet weird one. Buck and Chris are whispering behind the two of you. 

“I’m sorry” Eddie whispers, his arms still around you. 

“I’m the one that said all that shit” you tell him, he shakes his head and lets you go. 

“You were right. I’m sorry. I know sorry isn't going to fix it but you’re here and I- I just wanna fix things. I miss my sister and I know Chris misses his aunt” 

“Yeah, you’re an ass but you’re still my brother. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try” 

Buck goes “oh” behind you, you’re now standing beside Eddie- arms folded and brows furrowed, the same expression on both of you. 

“Yeah, I see it now” Buck mumbles, “I’m starving, what’s for dinner ?” he asks, him and Chris walking towards the door together.

 You and Eddie follow them out, “why don't you join us for dinner ?” Eddie turns to you, you give him a look. “I can’t crash your time with your boyfriend, y’all are probably-” “my what ?” once again, Eddie had a stupid look on his face. 

“So you’re telling me that wonderful human ball of joy isn't your boyfriend ?” looking at your brother, the stupid look still on his face. 

“No, why would you think that ?” hearing the genuine confusion in his voice, you laugh. 

“No reason, but if you’re not gonna date him, I might.” Giving your brother a smile, his head tilts and a look you know all too well on his face. 

“Don’t” his finger pointed at you, you were now biting back a laugh. 

“Hey Buck!” you shout, running towards him, Eddie running behind you and shouting for you to stop. 

Things were going to fall back into place pretty easily. 

-----

taglist: @advicefromnixxxx @keenmarvellover​ @beth-winchester21​ @fernandaweasley2​ @yikesyikesyikes95​ @hotchsdarling​ @duhbar1975​@hailsstormthings @averyhotchner​ @captainxholmes​ 

[issaxcharlie]

Ghost Of You 2/2

Pairing: Ghost! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader

Summary: Luke, Reggie and Alex have to assimilate their loss. For Luke of his girlfriend, and for the others of their best friend after suddenly learning that she didn’t have the future they imagined, and instead died 23 years ago.

Thank you to @cookiebuba for being the head of the entire idea and trusting me with it, and to Emy for almost holding my hand to force me to write🤣💜

PART 1 HERE

“It can’t be.”

“Luke, I-”

"No, Julie. You are not telling me that the woman of my life, the purest person who has ever stepped on this world, not only lost her partner and her best friends, but was only able to live her life for two more years and then ended in a horrible accident. It's as if life wanted to torture her before taking her too.”

“Love of ?... Zeppelin shirt you wore when you ran away. Of course.”

“I- It can’t be true, please tell me it’s not true, Julie.”

“Luke... she loved you so much.”

He falls on the floor. The impact is strong, as if his legs have stopped working.

"I know." He whispers slowly, his gaze empty as multiple tears fall from his eyes.

The rest of the gang threw themselves to the ground around him and hugged him with all their might, trying to unite his broken pieces without any success. Alex and Reggie each crying silently over the loss of their sweet friend.

“What day did she pass away? Alex whispers.

"Let me search, one moment." Julie gets up quickly and checks on her laptop to find a little note about the singer's death.

"The rising singer Y/N Y/L who had just released the biggest hit of her career passed away this afternoon in a terrible car accident after leaving the cemetery where her late boyfriend, Luke Patterson, was buried. Y/L was there in commemoration of the 2 years of the loss of the aspiring musician, who died from a sudden tragic intoxication along with the rest of his band. Something to rescue from this tragedy is that at least she's already reunited with her eternal love. May both rest in peace.”

“This can’t be. My Y/N can’t be gone. Not her, not like that.” Luke is still in denial, unable to believe that his little girl suffered such a terrible ending.

“Maybe she’s not. There's still a chance that she's also a ghost.”

“Yeah, Julie’s right. We need to look out for her, we can't write her off without trying to find her first.” Reggie's eyes sparkle with hope, rushing to cover Alex's mouth in case he says anything other than motivating.

Luke takes his flannel and disappears immediately. Both Reggie and Alex stare sadly at Julie who simply whispers a "go, he needs you." They nod and teleport to their friend.

As expected, Luke is in front of the window of an old music store. He met his girlfriend here so many years ago, the day his parents agreed to buy him his first guitar.

The store had a small section where customers could try out some instruments and she was playing the guitar they had there and singing for the small audience. It seemed like it was something she did often because both the workers and certain customers seemed familiar with the girl.

Luke was captivated by her from the first moment. The energy and passion that radiated from her in every move was unreal. He had never seen anyone happier, much less singing with a borrowed guitar from a small downtown store.

The store is completely abandoned, so without saying anything he comes in and walks towards the small stage.

The ghosts of two 12-year-old kids singing together into the microphone invades his memory. If they only knew.

"Do you remember what was the first thing she said to you?" Reggie and Alex sit next to him on the floor, looking straight at the very small stage. They both try to imagine what their friends must have looked like singing here together the first time. Luke totally invading little Y/N's presentation trying to captivate her with his 0% music experience and 100% of enthusiasm.

Luke laughs through tears. "You have the voice of a country singer."

Alex starts crying when he imagines her. He met her just a few weeks later so he knows exactly how she must have looked and sound.

Reggie smiles while shedding a tear, remembering all those afternoons Y/N convinced Luke to join them in their country sessions. He knows that's why Luke hasn't wanted to know anything about country or his songs since they got back. They remind him of his sweet girl.

“I was so offended. I still didn't know anything about music but I had already decided that I would be a rocker. If I hadn't already been so dazzled by her I would have left without looking back.”

“And what did you answer to defend your honor?”

"You think so?" The three of them start laughing while still crying. A heartbreaking mix of pain comes from their chests.

“C’mon guys, next stop.”

The three of them were teletransporting around the city during the day without any success. Luke's desperation increasing for every place the songwriter wasn't.

At night the three decide to go back to the studio. Luke is heartbroken, bloated after crying all day, eyes red and sore, and whatever it was that was driving him to continue, off.

His friends couldn't do much for him either because each was living the loss in their own way, concentrating on living their own pain until they could process it.

Julie wraps them in blankets on the couch and tries to fill them with love, making sure to hug Luke tightly, who seems about to fall apart.

“Does anyone want to talk about her? Maybe it could make you feel better.”

“She was my entire soul, the words and melody in each of my songs. I just, I love her more than anything in this world. I would give anything for her. My guitar, my voice, my songs, whatever it took for us to be together. I know it doesn't seem like it at this point, but we belong together.”

“We know you do, man.”

“I didn't tell you but I dream about her almost every night since we got back. It is always the same dream. She is in bed, leaving my side intact. She's wearing one of my shirts and hugging my favorite one while sobbing. She falls asleep listening to the ballad I wrote for her soaked in tears and no matter how hard I try to wake her up, I can't get her to see or hear me. I can’t get her. After a few minutes she gets up still asleep and begins to dance as we did so many times, but alone. Then she stops and starts crying again inconsolably. And that's when I wake up."

"I'm so sorry, Luke. She deserved so much more." Reggie walks over to hug him, his head resting on his arm while he sobs.

“We couldn't even say goodbye to her.” Alex cries, his eyes completely red.

“We already know that she visited your graves, perhaps we could do the same, dedicate a few words to her.” Julie offers in an attempt to help them find some peace.

Luke looks devastated, but he nods his head as tears continue to fall from his face, the ring that his girlfriend gave him going in and out of his finger. Alex hugs Julie while she strokes his hair in an effort to calm him down and Reggie runs up to get a notebook and pencil to start planning what to say to his best friend tomorrow.

The three of them hang around all night, crying, writing, hugging, remembering the spark of Sunset Curve. In the morning before going to visit her, they realize is exactly the 25th anniversary of that tragic night that changed the lives of the four forever. Luke nearly punches a hole in the wall upon hearing the sad coincidence.

Her grave is right next to Luke's, who has never been here before and can't help but feel a bit anxious.

“Don’t worry, I’ll start.” Reggie tells the guitarist as he takes a step forward, a small smile on his lips.

"Hello, princess. Long time, huh? I'm Reggie, by the way. In case you don't recognize me from the slight change in my hair. I am trying a little more gel, I want something more elegant and classic. What do you think? Yes, I also thought you would like it.” Julie and Alex smile at hearing him talk to her as natural as possible.

“I tried very hard to think of what to say, because if there is anyone who deserves my best words, it is you. And three things came to mind that I want to share with you.

First, the color yellow.

Yellow like the guitar you were saving for two years to buy. You did everything. You were a babysitter, you walked dogs, you worked in the school library, you sang with your old acoustic guitar in every cafe, basically everything that will let you win some money.

And the day before you could finally go buy it, my dad broke my bass in a moment of anger in one of his typical fights with mom that got really out of hand. At least he didn’t hurt her, huh? But when you're a kid you don't even think about the possibility that something like that could happen, you just focus on the broken instrument in your hand. I ran out and ended up on the stairs of your house with my face soaked and one of the broken pieces in my hand.

You hugged me and promised that everything would be fine. That I was always going to have you four and that we would always be family. You assured me that good things happen to good people. And I believed you, you know? You were always right. But now that I'm here, that I know you didn't have the happy ending you deserved, I'm honestly not so sure anymore.”

Luke and Alex start crying again, each hugging Reggie from one side. Reg tries with all his might to continue through the tears, while Julie looks at them with a broken heart.

“The next day when I came back from school a new bass was on my bed. You talked to Mom so she could take the credit for the gift, but coincidentally was exactly the bass that I fell in love with a year earlier when we went to check if your beloved yellow guitar hadn't dropped in price. Luke revealed to me a few months later that you had to borrow money from your mom in order to complete the exact money for that one.

How generous do you have to be in order to do something like that? how noble? How loving? How selfless? You were always more than I deserved. I was supposed to be like an older brother for you, but it was always you who took care of me. I have Julie and Carlos, and I'm trying to be with them as you were with me. I had the best step sister in the world to teach me, and I hope I can do you justice.” Julie starts crying too after hearing his words, and resists the urge to going to hug him because she knows that they need their space to let go all the suffering that they carry.

“Second, my leather jacket.

When we started the band we made a 100% commitment to being rockstars. And a very important part is the look. You accompanied me on a walk around the city looking for the right outfit to literally go sing to the people who were lining up in front of the clubs.

Anyone could have left me alone on that for multiple reasons, not even these two wanted to face the trouble. But you followed me without thinking twice.

The afternoon was over and we still haven't found anything. Our feet couldn't take it anymore and we had 10 minutes to run to the club. But we stopped by a little store that had a black leather jacket in the window and you said, Reg, this is it.

You excitedly took me by the hand and when I tried it on, the rest was history.

Then I tried to get the whole band to use them but these two boys without fashion sense didn’t want to. You, on the other hand, supported me and wore your leather jacket during all the Sunset Curve performances we had, convincing me that they were our good luck charms and that if we both used them everything would be amazing. Oh god, I miss you so much.

And third, a star.

I thought you were a star when I heard you sing for the first time.

I thought you were a star when you and Luke managed to write the whole Sunset Curve album in 2 months.

I thought you were a star when you bought me my bass, when you made Alex feel better after one of his strongest attacks, when you filled Luke with love and support when he needed it the most.

And I believe it now that I know you are gone.

If you are in heaven, you have to be a star. And not just a star, the brightest star of all. I promise to look for your light every night to wish you sweet dreams. I will also sing you some country since you were the only one who appreciated my incredible sound, I hope it makes you smile.”

“That was beautiful, Reggie. I’m sure she loved it.” Julie finally reaches out to hug him as Alex prepares to be next.

“Hey. I don’t even know where to start.

I- I guess I should start saying I could never pay you all the times you were there to pick me up when I needed someone the most. I went back to dancing a little again. It's not the same without you, but somehow it makes me feel you close. I also met someone, oh Y/N, he’s so special, I'm sure you would have loved him and I would have loved the opportunity to introduce him to you. You were always there.

You were there to support me when I decided to learn drums to cope with my anxiety. You sang the song I was practicing over and over to keep me company and reassure me that what I was doing sounded good.

You were there to support me when I told you I like to dance. We spent hours choreographing different iconic songs and just laughing and enjoying creating more memories together.

Not shocking at this point but you were also there for me when I confessed to my parents I’m gay and you gave me strength all those times that I wanted to fall because they no longer saw me the same way.

You were always my safe place. And I regret with all my heart that I couldn’t be yours.”

Alex breaks down. She kept them on their feet during her darkest days and they paid her off by causing her the most horrible pain imaginable. Julie and Reggie surround her in their arms while sobbing. The last one of the band standing moves closer to the grave and drops to his knees.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I’m so fucking sorry.” Luke tries to be strong, but tears start falling like waterfalls from his eyes, his face red in a mixture of despair, sadness and anger.

“I will never forgive myself for leaving you alone. Baby, I've been without you for only 1 month and I’m going crazy, even with the boys and Julie by my side. I don't even want to imagine what you must have been through those two years. My soul is shattered just thinking about it.

At first when we returned I imagined you were happy after having fulfilled all our plans with someone else. And I thought nothing could hurt me more than that, but obviously I was wrong. Because although it hurt me that I couldn’t be the one who was with you, thinking that you had been happy gave me the peace to be able to continue. Now that I know that life took away your opportunity, the only thing I feel is anger.

Anger towards me, anger towards destiny. Anger at not being able to be together even after death. Since we discovered where you are, I have only been able to think of cross over and finally be with you again.

Or at least go back to the night before everything turned into a nightmare. Fall asleep with you in my arms one more time.

I swear I even miss your snoring and you biting my cheek after your goodnight kiss, as you would say, in a gesture of love.”

“Hello again, my love.

I can't believe 25 years have passed. First of all, I want you to know that I'm okay. Or well, the equivalent for ghosts that are destined to haunt the earth alone for all eternity. I made a friend for several years, Rose. I told you about her, remember? I know you guys would have been good friends, she was a ridiculously talented musician. Since she died I no longer had the strength to go back to the studio, but for a long time I enjoyed her company in one of my favorite places. She promised to tell you that I'm waiting for you. I will wait whatever time is necessary, okay? I love you so much, baby.

You three are always on my mind, and I think I can finally accept that the pain is just never going to go away. But lately something super strange has happened to me, let me tell you.

Throughout these years, in the darkest days, I see you. But, they were always memories.

A month ago, I started to see you having other kinds of experiences and I honestly don't know how to feel about it. Am I going that crazy? I selfishly hoped that you too were ghosts for so many years. I looked for you 5, 10, 15, 20 years. And just as I decide to give up, my head imagines you all over the city.

The first time I saw you singing Reggie's jam on the beach. You guys looked so happy, love. It filled my heart with peace for a few seconds, knowing that somewhere up there you are enjoying life singing together all day.

Then I saw my beloved Alex with a cute boy. My heart melted, I can’t even explain how much I wanted to run to hug him and gossip about it.

Baby, he looked so peaceful. I always wanted that for Alex. I didn't know whether to be happy or cry because that didn’t actually happen, so I did both.

The penultimate time was a few nights ago when I was walking in front of the Orpheum and I heard your voices. How wicked my mind is, right? A knife to the heart would hurt less.

And now, I can't even get close to your grave because I'm imagining you all again.”

Y/N doesn't know what to do, if she gets close enough will they disappear? What If they don’t? Will she bear to see them up close? She has been dancing with their ghosts in her dreams for so many years, but It’s not the same as doing it when she is fully awake.

She is about to run out of there in fear when the silhouette of a fourth person catches her attention. She doesn't know why, but it immediately reminds her of Rose. Could it be that she is imagining her friend too?

Curiosity is stronger than fear, like all those times when she got into trouble with her boys. She walks carefully towards her grave which is next to her beloved Luke.

“I swear I even miss your snoring and you biting my cheek after your goodnight kiss as you would say, in a gesture of love.”

“I don't freaking snore, I told you a million times already... and now I'm talking with my imagination, great.”

The band turns in shock towards the fifth voice. That's when she can see the girl's face and realize who she is.

“Julie? But, how?”

“Y/N?” Alex whispers on the verge of passing out.

She starts to panic, just before the boys can do something about it, a new person appears behind her.

“Hey, you took a long time." She turns around and jumps into the arms of who has become her only friend in recent years.

“Phoenix, thank god.” Her body continues to shake but she clings tightly to her friend while crying uncontrollably.

To say the ghosts are confused would be an understatement. And apart from that, the guitarist is having many conflicts with the jealousy that he is feeling at the moment. They haven't seen each other in 25 years and when they finally do, she runs into someone else's arms and clings to him like her life depends on it.

What does that mean for them? Is it too late?

“Beautiful, what's wrong? Who are they? Oh, wait. You guys were at the club a few weeks ago, you're friends with Willie, right?”

Luke feels like dying all over again hearing him call her that. She continues to shake but finally lets go.

“What? You can see them?”

“Shouldn’t I?” He looks at her skeptical and shifts his eyes from her to the ghosts.

“I- Oh my god. I'm going to pass out.“

“Baby, look at me.” Luke’s voice is a mix between a plea and a demand. The terror of knowing that perhaps he has already lost her without having had the opportunity to fight for her clouds his judgment and tears begin to fall from his face again.

25 years. 25 years fighting not to forget his voice. 25 years having him only in dreams, in memories, in melodies. 25 years waiting for him. 25 years on her own.

She turns slowly to meet those honey-green eyes she craved for so long to see, a painful smile from Luke makes her smile through tears.

She carefully lifts her right hand and gently draws it to his cheek, almost exploding at the feel of it.

“You came back. Oh my, It’s really you.” She jumps to the guitarist, entwining her legs at his hips, her arms tangled with all her strength around him, her head buried in his neck inhaling his scent. Tears coming out as if to drown her, all the pain and suffering that she faced all these years finally leaving her body.

Luke wraps her tightly in his arms, still unable to process what’s happening.

Alex and Reggie begin to smile without fully assimilating what is happening, while Julie begins to jump of joy.

“Babygirl, I'm sorry to ruin the moment but I have to rush to the club. Will you be okay here?"

“She's always safe with me." The guitarist growls, and Y/N starts laughing when she hears it.

"The jealous, protective baby in the beanie is right, don't worry Nix. I’ll go and find you later."

Phoenix nods with a smile and disappears. Julie begins to scold Luke while Reggie and Alex approach to touch the cheek of their best friend, still in the arms of the guitarist who does not seem to have any intention of letting go.

“We should go home to catch up. Reggie and I will accompany Julie, it seems that you two should speak alone first." Luke doesn't think twice and disappears with her in his arms.

“Good things happen to good people.” Reggie whispers as he hugs his friends and they start walking home.

Luke and Y/N reappear in the studio and they are both shocked for a few seconds. The girl trembles again in fear of dreaming.

“Hey, come here baby. Shh, I’m here, I promise.”

“Don’t leave me ever again, please.” He can see that it is very difficult for her to understand that is really happening, and to think that she lived without him not 2 but 25 years makes him want to cry again.

“I won’t. I promise, beautiful. Never again.” Luke wraps her in his arms, but she lifts her head from his chest to push her lips against his. The kiss is urgent, but they both instantly recognize each other and fit in perfectly. Luke picks her up again and gently lays her down on the couch, both desperate to feel the other, to recognize every inch.

“I missed you so much baby, I love you more than anything.” Luke whispers between kisses, not willing to have her an inch away from him.

“I love you my love. I love you, I love you, I love you.” She says while kissing the love of her life, happy for the first time in 25 years.

Before things get to escalate, the rest of the band shows up in the studio followed by Julie who clearly walks through the door.

"Let go of her man, it's our turn!" Y/N gets up quickly from the sofa while her boyfriend complains and she throws herself at both of them who pick her up as best they can and spin her in the air.

They put her down and Julie and her stare each other, both raise their arms and meet in a quick but sweet hug.

“You said my name back there, how?” The question that she has stuck since she met her finally coming to light.

“I met your mom many years ago when I came to visit the studio and realized that she could see me. We were friends for many years and I had the opportunity to see you grow up, but I always made sure to be upstairs when you came in in case you could see me too.”

“Well, now I understand how Carlos felt when he found out that we lived with ghosts. And It sounds like mom watches over us both from heaven.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she does.” Both girls smile and hug each other once more.

“I can't believe I endured 25 years without having those beautiful arms around me.” She whispers as they both lie on the couch, Luke has her completely cornered in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, baby. It breaks my heart that you have suffered that much for so many years.”

“It was not your fault. You lost as much as I did that night. Besides, I always knew that you would find me sooner or later. We belong together.”

“We do. I, I k-know we have way more to talk about but, who was the dude from the cementery?”

The insecurity in his voice is evident and Y/N can't help but smile. His emotions are complex, real, and nothing can make her happier than that.

“I’ll tell you all about my friend later, okay? For now... dance with me? I want to dance with the real deal.” He smiles and they both stand up, hugging each other as they slowly move through the studio as they did many times before life separated them.

The Luke in her arms is her Luke, the same one she has been waiting for so many years, finally back in her arms. And just as she thought when she lived, she will dance with his ghost for all eternity.

Thank you for reading✨✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning, @ghostofmgg @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress, @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc, @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @blackhood5sos @tessxblxckthorn

Goy tags: @eternalharry @xplrreylo

[balillee]

why 'there's no lore going on' right now in the dream smp - The Misfits Analogy

Fans of television, especially British television, will probably be familiar with an early 2010's show called Misfits. The show ran for five seasons spanning 2009 to 2013 - while the first two seasons (the first moreso than the second) are regarded more as cult classics, the latter half of the show completely falls in writing and production quality due to one significant change - the cast.

Seasons one and two of Misfits was centred around the original misfits gang - Nathan Young (portrayed by Robert Sheehan), Kelly Bailey (portrayed by Lauren Socha), Simon Bellamy (portrayed by Iwan Rheon), Alisha Daniels (portrayed by Antonia Thomas) and Curtis Donovan (portrayed by Nathan Stewart-Jarrett).

The show was good for two different factors from my perspective -

The intersection of superpowered television and interpersonal conflicts that broke the norm for stereotypes.

How the cast reflected modern British society.

In summary, the show followed a group of five young offenders at a community service centre. Not too interesting - but give them relatability, realism and explore their character development and their existing stereotypes/tropes through the use of superpowers? Genius.

Nathan was most definitely the fan favourite character of the show - he was outgoing, annoying, larger than life in a lot of ways and in all senses, he was a skeevy asshole who would insult characters at every turn. He was very much the class clown of the show and any British viewer could probably see someone they remember from school in Nathan, except Nathan was lovable and you could sympathise with him because you could see him struggling primarily at home and with his family.

Spoilers for the show - Nathan's power was immortality and the ability to resurrect himself from death. This power wasn't explicit immediately either to Nathan or to the audience unlike all of the other young offenders, and it reflected his 'nothing can hurt me ' attitude. Nathan was a character who could take any comment and brush it off like it was nothing, and he in the physical sense could take being thrown off a roof, impaled and practically buried alive and be sitting in his own coffin with his iPod all fine and dandy.

Kelly was also another standout example - her character reflected the stereotype of a chavvy girl, 'council house and violent' - loudmouthed, not very smart, questionable fashion choices and a bit abrasive. The only difference is that the show knew they had to subvert that stereotype - instead, Kelly was smart in her own way and she was empathic -> her superpower was the ability to hear other people's thoughts, and later, she became superintelligent and when her character left the show she decided to move to Uganda use her newfound rocket-scientist level intelligence for good. She was still loudmouthed and definitely chavvy, but she was also a whole human person who cared about other people and who was definitely intelligent.

If I kept going, I'd be lamenting about how season one's cast well reflected and subverted stereotypes and expectations using their superpowers, but I'd be here all day and that's really not the point I'm trying to make.

By the end of season 2, Robert Sheehan, as the standout performance from the show, decides to move on to greener pastures (which,, I don't blame him, being stuck on E4 would have been a nightmare for his career and look where he is now? He's a fan favourite as Klaus in TUA now!) - thus, Nathan is written out of the show in a post- season 2 special in which he gets locked up in prison in America.

This was the first character to get written out of the show.

In season 3, we lose Kelly who moves to Uganda with Seth to defuse landmines, and Simon and Alisha are both killed, and the only remaining member of the original ASBO five is Curtis.

Season 4 rolls around, and we pretty much have an entirely new Misfits cast - Curtis, and then we have Rudy (who had been present since season 3), and then we have new additions Jess, Finn and Abbey.

Let me tell you that by this point in the show, all of the fans had lost interest.

Not only had the two biggest fan favourites, Nathan and Kelly, left the show, but you now have to replace four out of the five original cast members with new ones that don't function the same way the originals did. What type of person is someone with X-ray vision trying to represent? You could argue that maybe Jess is good at figuring people out, but I don't really remember this being explored that much in the show. And the difference between this reflecting a minor personality trait is that the original cast didn't do that - in dumbed down terms, Alisha was a 'sket' who had the power to make people horny for her, oftentimes against her wishes, through skin-to-skin contact. That's much more impactful and there's a lot more to explore there.

Episode 7 of Season 4 of Misfits is the clearest indicator of the departure of the original show's intentions and explains perfectly why it didn't work the way it used to.

For the entirety of the season, Jess had been crushing on a guy called Alex from a bar she frequented (who later went on to replace Curtis as the fifth Misfits member in season 5, go figures) who, as far as we had seen, not at all reciprocated those feelings nor was there any indication of him wanting to.

In episode 7, we figure out why.

Jess, using her x-ray vision, finds out that Alex's penis was stolen by a trans man.

I'll be honest, when I first heard it, I thought it was a joke.

The show went from having a diverse cast, not only in terms of having two black characters in it's main cast, but also in it's diversity of character tropes that they aimed to subvert - to then having a mainly white cast in a show that actively perpetuates harmful stereotypes about trans people being dangerous.

Now, and I want to preface this, I don't think that the Dream SMP is malicious in the same way that the writing of that episode of Misfits is. I don't think the SMP is malicious at all. What I want to highlight is how the change in cast directly mirrored when the audience dropoff was and when the show itself started to go south in terms of quality, production and what they wanted to achieve.

For the sake of my argument, there is currently three seasons of the dream smp. The start of the server up until the end of the initial disc war is the prologue, season one encompasses Wilbur's L'Manberg and the Pogtopia arc, ending on November 16th, season 2 starts November 17th and ends January 20th (the disc war finale) and season 3 spans from January 21st to the present day.

Most of the fans of the Dream SMP can tell you that the primary story of the server is centred around quite a few certain characters who viewers started watching to see more of. I'm guilty of this myself - I primarily watch the SMP for Tommy's story, and I also stick around for Wilbur, Tubbo, Ranboo and a little bit for Phil, Techno and Jack Manifold. Those were the people I was invested in and those are the stories I like to follow. Not to discredit or to downplay the work or the stories of other characters, but I can imagine that there are a few people who watch the SMP primarily for a close few perspectives/storylines, and following some storylines over others just because you're not interested in them is completely fine and there's nothing wrong with that at all.

In season one, there was always things going on with my favourite characters. Tommy was always getting himself into spots of trouble and making up different schemes to get people to come visit L'Manberg as a tourist attraction, or getting people to support the rebellion, and this was interspersed with the heavier, plot-driven moments such as Wilbur's mental breakdown, the festival, the pit fight and the season 1 finale. This got me invested in him as a character because he had been there for quite a while and we'd seen him develop and grow into the character we now see in season 3.

In the back half of season 1 came Techno, who really shook things up and threw a spanner in the works and provided a totally different perspective - unlike Dream he didn't hate L'Manberg because he couldn't control it, and unlike Wilbur he didn't have a personal connection to it and he didn't know it's history. Techno initially hated L'Manberg because it was a government he knew nothing about (and still knows nothing about even today), and because violence and destruction is kind of his thing.

We had a well balanced cast of characters - not too many - that we could follow and who all had varying perspectives, experiences and personalities. We had clearly defined groups of individuals with different morals: you had the people on the side of Manberg, the people in Pogtopia who wanted Manberg blown up, the people in Pogtopia who didn't want Manberg blown up, and on the side to compliment it all you also had the Badlands, comprised of three longstanding members of the server,,,, and then Antfrost who was kidnapped by Tommy that one time. It was all wrapped up nicely in a neat little bow and there was structure to it all. There was one plot that went in one direction, and despite the many perspectives, it all ended up in the same spot and the story ended. There was a conclusion.

In season 2, the two primary additions to the 'cast' were Phil and Ranboo, whose characters complimented the existing story well. Phil functioned mostly as a successor to Wilbur alongside Ghostbur by exploring well the departure of Wilbur as a character in that moment, and he also functioned well as a companion to Techno's character. Ranboo, on the other hand, had a pretty good complimentary solo story that could be followed alongside the main plot, however his story wasn't too distant from the main story to the point where he was completely removed from it - he had direct involvement in different events such as the exile conflict, his connection to Dream as the main antagonist of the season and his involvement in blowing up the community house.

Season 2 starts with a focus on two different spaces - it breaks up a longstanding duo and the storyline diverges into two halves: Logstedshire and New L'Manberg, and you have Techno's short 'retirement' arc working decently to compliment it and also to set the tone for his character going forward in that season. In Logstedshire we see the aftermath of Tommy being exiled from L'Manberg by Dream - we see him endure what is (in canon) at least a month of isolation and physical and psychological abuse and it culminates on December 15th when Tommy rescues himself, jumps from the tower and goes to hide in Techno's house (which acts as a good precursor to his involvement in Techno's storyline in that season). On the other side, we follow Tubbo in L'Manberg dealing with Presidency - he talks a lot and gets 'friendly' with Dream, he prepares to run against Ranboo in the coming election cycle (primarily because he doesn't want to be President) and we see his interactions with the power-hungrier Quackity who all too often takes the reigns and this culminates in the creation of the Butcher Army, and following the Butcher Army's attack on December 16th, once again, we have two clearly defined sides:

One one side, we have Tubbo, Quackity and Fundy who represent L'Manberg, and on the other we have Tommy (who is unaware of the Butcher Army's attack), Phil and Techno, and more in the middle we have Ghostbur and Ranboo.

Season 2's finale format is a clear departure for the format of November 16th, but it's not a poor choice - I think, especially considering the story that they were telling, it worked perfectly. On November 16th, pretty much everyone was streaming their perspective of the event; at the time, there were even compilations of everyone's reactions to Wilbur blowing up L'Manberg. On January 20th, however, we only had two perspectives - Tubbo and Tommy.

I'll say it now, while Season 2 was definitely Clingyduo's season, it didn't focus solely on them. There was also a big focus on Techno as a character, whose arc came to an end a little earlier on Doomsday, and there was also a focus on Ranboo a lot as a solo character, and he streamed a little later on January 20th with what I refer to as the 'epilogue', where there was also a shift in his character to expect moving forward.

Why season 2's finale worked is because it was centralised around only three characters, only two of which we ever see the perspectives of, and it was the finale of the longest running storyline of the entire narrative - the disc war. Two boys who were on their last life, making their last stand at the one man who pulled the strings to make their lives miserable - those two perspectives only, and it worked. We didn't have compilations of everyone reacting to the things happening around them which worked for season 1, instead, we focused on these two characters whose turn it was to get the focus, and we had iconic and moving moments. We had the two boys walking down the prime path saying what they could only assume might have been their last goodbyes to the people that still had a shred of care for them, we had the two sailing to where they would face off against Dream for their final stand and finally talking about their feelings a little and dreading the implication that if they were both to die, nobody would live to tell their stories, we had Tommy choosing his best friend over his discs time and time again, and we had Punz - Dream's last confidant - standing against Dream and bringing everyone with him and sending him to prison, now on his last life too.

Everything about it was perfect. The more focused ending worked for the ending of season 2 because it was their time to have their climax moment - and it wasn't some spectacular display of explosions or violence like in Wilbur's finale on November 16th, where the ramifications hit everyone and we got to see it, nor was it a show of violence and almost oppressive dominance like Techno's finale was on Doomsday, where we saw everyone's breakdown and how the people contributing to the destruction of L'Manberg, no matter how righteous they thought they were, did not care to understand how much they were hurting and destroying the lives of the country's citizens. On January 20th, Tommy and Tubbo went into it thinking they were going to die, they got their asses handed to them despite how hard they tried, and they had their behinds saved by Tommy's preparative thinking by people who weren't there to save them more than they were there to get rid of Dream.

Season 3 suffers a lot from a lack of focus, awful pacing and really poor timing.

Seasons 1 and 2 occurred during the brunt of the coronavirus pandemic, where everyone was stuck at home and had more time to stream because it was their primary form of content and because it was the best way to communicate with their friends. Thus, the pacing of those seasons was extremely steady and things were always happening.

Now, lockdown restrictions have eased quite a bit, and creators can branch out a lot more and can meet with each other in real life and can do vlog-style content. Therefore, they don't stream as much, and the focus of the Dream SMP story has shifted more towards newer or sideplot characters. If you enjoy those characters, that's fine, but when they take the focus away from the characters and the storylines the majority are expecting, a lot of people won't try to keep up with it and from their perspective there'll be a massive lull in narrative content.

What I'm saying, is that Tommy streaming for thirteen days in a row in July 2021 is a fucking pipe dream. It happened in December because the story was consistent and the pacing was steady and he had the time and the want to be there. Now, Tommy's off making his vlogs and hanging out with his friends and thus he can't stream as much as he used to. He's sort of suffering from the Robert Sheehan problem, isn't he? Tommy is still involved with the Dream SMP and his story is definitely continuing, and his narrative in season 3 is really starting to pick up with the newer developments, it's just that he doesn't have as much time to play the role anymore because he isn't streaming as much.

I'm not saying this is a bad thing - it's obviously making him happy that his content is changing and I'm fully supportive of that.

So when all of these meetups are happening and we don't have as much content from the main characters that we follow anymore, what happens?

Well, the fans get a little itchy. This fandom, especially. They might throw out a comment or a tweet asking when they're going to stream on the SMP, or if they really don't understand why the Dream SMP is good, they'll ask when the next 'lore stream' is, and they'll lament a little about how the content and the story has slowed, especially in contrast to the fast pacing of season 2 which only lasted a little over two months with much more story going on than in season 3 despite it having been going on for triple the time. What they'll get in response is that the Dream SMP is still going on and that lore is still happening.

On all accounts, these statements aren't incorrect. Lore still is happening.

But when you've been following lovable characters for two seasons, setting up their struggles and then switching the focus onto newer or 'sideplot' characters that you haven't really followed before, there's going to be a bit of moaning about it on twitter dot com.

The SMP now suffers from having too many characters, too many unfocused narratives, and poor pacing/ditched or unfinished storylines from the characters we used to follow and love while we're being told to love other characters instead.

I never really cared too much about the egg subplot, I'll be honest. I was a little interested in the involvement of Sam, Puffy and Ponk, but other than that, I wasn't really too invested. It very much tried to replicate the 'you should have paid me more' moment from January 20th at the Red Banquet, and it really didn't hit as hard because most of the characters there were either ones that didn't belong there at all (like Niki, Fundy, HBomb, and Purpled), weren't that involved with the plotline and felt out of place with the established characters in that storyline (Techno, Quackity and Ranboo), or were new characters that were difficult to get on board with because they hadn't really had too much of a story beforehand (Hannah and Foolish), or in the case of Antfrost, characters with no known motivation to be there other than that being the storyline they're currently in. Not to discredit those involved or their characters, but the Red Banquet really tried to replicate what the disc finale did with it's focused perspectives and it's Punz moment, and it failed.

Now, following the egg subplot's finale, I'm meant to focus on Las Nevadas, Snowchester and the Syndicate.

Las Nevadas is the most consistent storyline, however it's biggest problem is that it is filled with new characters or ones that are barely there. Despite how long he's been on the server, Purpled really is a new character if only because he's only really become a character recently - Foolish is still considered new, Slimecicle is new, Fundy rarely streams on the SMP. The only consistent longstanding and heavily involved characters that are a part of Las Nevadas are Quackity and Sam, and even their streams are infrequent, with a lot of Sam's perspective not even focusing on Las Nevadas but instead the prison.

Snowchester's plot is very much dying, dead and in the water. She's suffering. We haven't seen Michael in over a month, a nuke is still missing, Jack Manifold is dubiously a citizen and Tubbo doesn't even think he has a character on the SMP. It breaks my heart.

The Syndicate suffer from a lack of existence. The four characters really aren't a friend group in canon - all of the stuff about them hanging out all the time and them basically being a book club is all fanon. They've hung out as a four all of twice, the first time they ever got together they celebrated someone's death and then basically invaded Snowchester to give themselves a reason not to destroy it, terrifying Tubbo in the process. The second time was because it was Techno's birthday.

Now, Techno is in prison, and the only reason Phil hasn't read the will to progress the story is likely because of difficult scheduling with other server members, which is written off in canon as Phil not wanting to accept the possibility of Techno potentially dying.

Literally reading the will and having the Syndicate figure out that Techno's in prison with Dream will solve all of season 3's formatting issues and have the story back on track.

Currently, we don't really have two clearly defined sides the way we always had. We were meant to root for L'Manberg against the Dream Team, we were meant to root for Pogtopia against Manberg, and in season 2 we had a lot more moral ambiguity and room for side switching between the forces of Dream, Techno and Phil against L'Manberg, and then we rooted for Clingyduo against Dream.

I can predict that if the will is read, here's how a good conflict can arise.

Two clearly defined different sides - Las Nevadas on the side of Pandora's Vault, and the Syndicate (currently consisting of Phil, Ranboo and Niki), and you have compromises to make. If the side of the Prison wins, Techno and Dream stay in Pandora's Vault without a proper trial and being treated inhumanely, and there's also the threat of the rest of the Syndicate also being imprisoned. If the side of the Syndicate wins, the prison is taken out and Techno and Dream are no longer being treated inhumanely - problem is that Dream's out, and he's very much dangerous because despite what c!Dream apologists will tell you, he's not docile and he's not going to have a healing arc with Techno because he doesn't think he's done anything wrong and Techno can't tell him that he's done anything wrong (because Techno is the most wilfully ignorant character who gets to be political it's INSANE) - he'll go right back to the evil, abusive bastard he was, obsessed with Tommy, probably worse now that he can easily get Wilbur to do anything he wants and more vindictive against Quackity. Plus, if the Syndicate take down Las Nevadas they'll hold the most power on the server systematically and the so-called anarchists will ironically be the top dogs of the server.

Then towards the middle you'll probably end up having Wilbur, Benchtrio and Jack Manifold - Tubbo and Jack would prefer Techno and Dream staying in prison, except Tubbo's really not on the greatest terms with Q at the minute (because Q's paranoid and making conflict with parties that would have otherwise helped him out and thought they were friends), whereas Tommy would be stuck between wanting Techno out but needing to either keep Dream in or kill him, and Wilbur will be having to pick between aiding Dream's escape from prison or staying with Tommy, because he can't have both. Ranboo will probably be having the same problem as Tommy, except he's on the side of the Syndicate and will have to pick between the Syndicate or keeping Dream imprisoned.

Season 3 is salvageable, it really is. You can fix the poor pacing and you can fix the lack of focus with literally one revelation from fucking Philza M|necraft. But as it stands now, season 3 suffers from a similar situation as Misfits - almost replacing the cast of characters we've followed for the longest time with a new one in a format completely different to the original seasons.