#class: undefined attraction

[givemecoins]

Novi

[pt: Novi/end pt]

I wanted to make a different novi flag but I didn't want to change the colors or the original meanings, so I just changed the design. I really love the chevron design, so underated.

^ Self-indulgent.

[foreverisntenough]

‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 24- 'Falling Into Place' | ‘Act II’

word count - 11.5 k

After the game, you settled into the car, just you and Jude and Louis joining too, the tension from the match finally beginning to ease. Jude sat beside you head resting on your shoulder, an occasional kiss to your shoulder still processing the loss, but trying to shake it off with his usual lighthearted attitude. 

“So, nothing to say after the match? I’m bracing myself for it.” Jude smirked. He was expecting some teasing remark, knowing Louis wasn’t one to hold back especially with a France win, but instead, Louis surprised him. He gave Jude a firm pat on the arm. 

“You actually played really well, mate. Nothing to joke about this time.” He said with genuine sincerity. You could see the surprise flicker across Jude’s face as he looked at Louis, a smile breaking through his usual post-loss seriousness. 

“Really?” Jude raised his brows. Louis nodded, completely serious. 

“Yeah, bro. No joke. It was clinical, honest. Next stinker I’ll be on you though.” Louis laughed. You couldn’t help but giggle along with him, leaning into Jude’s side as he absorbed the rare, unfiltered praise from your brother. It was a moment you didn’t see coming, and you knew Jude appreciated it more than he let on. The warmth of the moment made you feel even closer to him, especially knowing that Louis had finally given in and really liked him. “Harry Kane’s performance though…Ouah, absolutely. Now that was a disaster class.” Louis cracked a grin teasingly. Jude held his hands up in innocence. The three of you laughed, the tension from the game melting away with the easy banter. Soon, the mood shifted from somber reflection to hunger as you made plans for a late dinner. Jude’s mood lightened even more when Aurelian opted to join the group, eager to poke fun at the evening’s results. You’d tried to convince Whitney and Trent to join you for dinner, but they were heading straight back home to Engladn to see Teddy. So, it ended up being just you, Jude, Louis, and Aurelian at a cozy restaurant. They all agreed to a simple rule for the night: the loser pays. Which, of course, meant Jude was footing the bill after England’s defeat. As the conversation flowed over the table, Louis shared stories from your childhood that made Jude laugh, while Aurelian added his own banter to keep things light. The four of you tucked in the back of a small warm restaurant. You couldn’t stop smiling, feeling this unexpected sense of closeness. There was something comforting about seeing the men in your life—Jude, Louis, and even Aurelian—enjoying each other’s company like old friends. Even though Jude had just experienced a tough loss on the pitch, the warmth of the night, the laughter, and the company of the people he loved seemed to overshadow the disappointment. You snuggled closer to him as the night wore on, feeling content. Everything felt right, and Jude, even with the sting of defeat, was right there with you, his arm draped protectively over your shoulder. 

“Lou, so your dad gave me permission to propose.” Jude lowered his voice. He was sitting across from Aurelian and Louis after you excused yourself to use the bathroom. As soon as you left, Jude leaned in toward them. Louis raised an eyebrow, his typical calm demeanor breaking with a hint of surprise. 

“Seriously? Félicitations” he asked, with a smirk slowly forming. Jude nodded, looking proud but a little anxious. Aurelian, catching on, immediately mocked betrayal that Jude didn’t ask for any help finding a place to ask your dad  

“Bro, how could you not tell me? I would’ve helped you pick the perfect spot in Paris!” he exclaimed, only half-joking. Jude shook his head with a grin. “Louis, où l'a-t-il emmené?”  [Louis, where did he take him?] Aurelian’s gaze flashed to Louis inquisitively.

“I’m fine, mate. I managed. Got my yes already.” Jude beamed proud.  Louis leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, still processing what Jude had just said, a slow smile spread across his face. He knew Jude was asking, they’d spoken prior but he didn’t tip your dad off. He looked genuinely impressed, but his teasing nature quickly took over. 

“Well,” he began, giving Jude a playful glance, “one yes down… but you still need the other one.” Jude rolled his eyes with a grin, but the nerves flickered again beneath the surface. 

“Yeah, I know,” he admitted, running a hand over his hair. He glanced toward the direction of the bathroom, making sure you weren’t on your way back yet. He wanted to make sure this conversation stayed between him, Louis, and Aurelian, who was now listening with keen interest from across the table. Aurelian, who had been quietly partaking in the conversation while sipping his wine, set his glass down with a soft clink. He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the whole thing. 

“Wait—honestly….so you’re telling me you had already planned this whole thing out and didn’t think to ask for my help? Not at all?  I would’ve found the perfect spot to ask him. Set the whole thing up for you.” He looked at Jude offended. Jude chuckled, shaking his head at Aurelian’s faux indignation. 

“I didn’t need your help, mate,” he teased back. “I’ve got my plan, and more importantly, I got my yes from her dad. That’s all that matters.” Jude quipped. Louis smirked, leaning forward and giving Jude a playful nudge with his elbow. 

“You better hope that’s all that matters. You’ve got the hard part out of the way, but the real question is… does she even suspect anything?” Louis lowered his voice to a point where they could barely hear it in the restaurant. Jude’s eyes flickered with a slight smirk, his nerves melting into that mischievous confidence you adored so much. 

“Not a thing,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. “She’s completely in the dark… I hope.” He smirked. Aurelian laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“You’d better hope, bro. Pulling all this off without her catching on? That’s impressive. But hey, if you need any backup, I’m just saying… I know some great spots around Paris for the proposal.” Aurelian raised his brow almost begging to be included. Jude raised an eyebrow, his playful smirk returning.

“Actually,” he said, leaning in slightly, “I’m thinking Greece.” He grinned proudly. Louis’s eyes widened, and a dramatic scoff escaped his lips. 

“Greece? You really want to make this hard for yourself, don’t you?” he teased before his eyes flicked to Aurelian. “C'est difficile.” He switched to French with a playful jab. “You’re really going to make her travel all the way to Greece just to say yes?” Louis asked. Aurelian grinned, catching onto the playful teasing in French. 

“How exactly do you plan to get her there without tipping her off?” he asked with genuine curiosity.  Jude paused for a moment, a knowing smile creeping onto his face. 

“I’m working on it,” he said simply, the weight of his plan hanging in the air between them but Jude’s confidence in himself rarely faltered. “It’s gonna take a little finessing, but I think I can pull it off.” Jude explained vaguely. Louis laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“You’re mad,” he muttered, “but if anyone can do it, it’s you.” He smiled. Aurelian leaned back in his chair, a grin spreading across his face. 

“Greece, huh? Well, you’re lucky she puts up with your shit.” He teased. “I wouldn’t fly all the way there for you bro… So you’ll ask Y/N in Greece.” Aurelian repeated just to confirm what had been said. Jude gave a small nod. 

“That’s the plan,” he said, a glint of determination in his eyes. “I want you guys there though… like everyone will be there.” He cooed sincerely. Louis snickered, shooting him a teasing look.

“Well, I don’t know if I’ll be available, mate,” he joked sarcastically, feigning a busy schedule. “I might have some really important plans to not be at the biggest moment of my sister’s life.” He smirked. Jude gave him a playful shove, rolling his eyes. 

“Nah, you’re not missing it. Fuck off. You’ll be there” Jude laughed, reinforcing that Louis better be there, jokes aside. Just as they were starting to laugh a little more,  the sound of your heels echoed back toward the table. The three of them straightened up slightly, and Jude quickly shifted gears, returning to casual conversation. You slid back into your seat, none the wiser to the conversation that had just transpired, and smiled at the group.

“What did I miss?” you asked, looking at the three of them curiously. Jude quickly flashed you a grin, his nerves now perfectly masked. 

“Nothing important, angel” he said smoothly, reaching for your hand. “Just boring match analysis.” He cooed. Louis and Aurelian shared a quick glance, both barely containing their smirks. You narrowed your eyes at them suspiciously but eventually shrugged, choosing not to press the issue. Jude squeezed your hand before raising it to his lips for a kiss to your skin, a silent promise in that touch—a promise that very soon, everything was about to change. And you didn’t even have the slightest idea.

Thankfully Madrid had a short break after Christmas. Jude had arrived in New York to come stay with you just in time for Winnie’s New Year’s Eve party, and from the moment you saw him, something felt off. He seemed on edge, his usual cool demeanor replaced by an almost jittery energy that made your stomach twist. You couldn’t figure out why, but you felt it—something was different. You welcomed him into the apartment and his nervousness became more apparent, and your mind couldn’t help but spiral. You had begun to worry that maybe he had come to the US to end things. You couldn’t think of any other reason he would be acting like this, it could only be that.  The thought plagued you with every glance he gave, every half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. A million scenarios raced through your mind. Was he going to break up with you? Did he feel trapped? You hated how much you over thought it, but his unease was so palpable that it was hard not to. You slipped into a gold Carolina Herrera sequined mini dress with silver florets all over it. You should’ve felt glamorous but you felt hollowed, nervous tonight was going to be some sort of final act.

As you and Jude stepped out of the elevator, the hum of a lively New Year’s Eve party buzzed through the air. The hallway leading to Winnie’s New York City apartment was lined with sleek, modern decor, a soft glow emanating from the warm lighting that spilled from the open door. You could already hear the low thrum of music mixed with the sound of laughter and conversation as you reached the entrance. Winnie’s apartment was breathtaking, like something straight out of a luxury lifestyle magazine. The large floor-to-ceiling windows offered a stunning panoramic view of the skyline, where the city lights twinkled beneath the inky night sky. Inside, the party was a perfect blend of elegance and casual fun—the soft amber lights onto marble floors rippling aura, while guests mingled with champagne flutes in hand, their laughter bouncing off the high ceilings. The space itself was expansive, with an open-plan living room that stretched into a beautifully set dining area, adorned with chic decor. A large, sleek bar dominated one corner of the room, where bartenders mixed drinks effortlessly, and a DJ booth was set up on the far side, spinning smooth beats that kept the energy just right. As soon as you stepped inside, the warmth of the party enveloped you. Jude’s hand found the small of your back instinctively, his fingers lightly brushing your skin through the fabric of your dress. You smiled up at him, catching the excitement in his eyes as you both took in the ambiance. He looked dapper, effortlessly blending into the crowd of glamorous partygoers, but he had that quiet air of someone who didn’t care about the glitz—he was here for you, and whilst you knew that, something faltered in the way he touched you now.

“Winnie really outdid herself this year,” you whispered to Jude, eyes scanning the room. The apartment, with its grand style and vibrant guests, was the perfect backdrop for a New Year’s Eve celebration, and yet, you still couldn’t help but be distracted by the feeling of Jude’s presence beside you. He chuckled softly, leaning in close to your ear. 

“Yeah, she knows how to throw a party. But I’m more interested in who I’m spending it with.” His voice was low, that familiar teasing edge in his tone, making you smile despite yourself. And even though you felt smitten by the line there was something about it that felt contrived. As you moved further into the room, Winnie spotted you both and made her way over. Dressed in an impeccably fitted gown, her face lit up in a warm smile as she saw you. She shrugged  doing a twirl for you in a black sequin dress that made every man in there in a trance and you were not exempt. She loved unreal. She came over and pulled you in for a hug, her arms squeezing you tightly. 

“You two made it!” she beamed, pulling back to give Jude a cuddle. “And you look amazing, as always. Prettiest people I know and that’s saying something considering my sister and brother in law.” She giggled.

“Thanks, Win,” you said, laughing as she quickly scanned you from head to toe. “This place is unreal. How do you keep topping yourself every year?” You cooed as a member of the waitstaff handed you champagne.  Winnie waved off the compliment with a modest shrug, though clearly pleased.

 “Oh, you know, just a little something I threw together… you know and boredom without a man this year,” she teased. “Cheers! To a year of love for you to continue and for me to find.” She smiled sweetly.  You clicked her glass gently. With a glass of champagne in hand and Jude’s arm comfortably around your waist, the night began to unfold in waves of laughter, music, and easy conversation. The vibe was perfectly set for a night that would ring in the New Year with both elegance and intimacy. As you and Jude mingled through the crowd at Winnie’s party, surrounded by friends and the glitter of Manhattan’s skyline, you kept sneaking glances at him, trying to read his mind. He was being kind, attentive even, but the nerves underneath were like a current of tension. You knew him well enough to sense it, and it was making you anxious.

At the party, the energy was lively, champagne flutes clinking, people laughing, and the glow of city lights filtering through the large windows. You were trying to enjoy it all, but something felt off. Jude was by your side, but he wasn’t really there. He hadn’t been all night. As the countdown to midnight came and went, you leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as the clock struck midnight. 

“Happy New Year, baby,” you whispered softly, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Think we’ll have a good year?” You smiled at him, but his response was muted, almost distant. He just hummed in response, offering a half-hearted smile before pulling away slightly. The warmth you were used to—the way he usually lit up when you were close—was missing. It was starting to gnaw at you. You weren’t used to this, to Jude being so… disconnected. His eyes would dart away when you looked at him, and the usual easy flow of conversation between you both had stuttered into awkward silences. He’d hold your hand, but it didn’t feel as reassuring. Everything felt wrong. It was like the champagne was making you both more emotional; you hurt, Jude nervous. You found Winnie near the bar, sipping her drink and chatting with a few friends. You pulled her aside, the frustration boiling up inside you. “It’s like… I thought things were good,” you said, exasperation creeping into your voice. “But he won’t fucking talk to me.” You snapped. Winnie looked at you, her brow furrowed in sympathy. 

“Do you want me to lie?” She asked you with a sympathetic smile. You shook your head no. “I mean… I noticed when you walked in,” she admitted, her eyes flicking over to where Jude stood, off by himself, seemingly lost in thought. “He’s been keeping his distance. It’s weird. Like it doesn’t feel like it’s a big thing, anything more than tonight, but it’s odd.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair, trying to make sense of it. Jude was never like this. Sure, he’d get quiet sometimes, but never with you. He was always open, always eager to talk things through when something was bothering him. This was different.

“I don’t get it,” you muttered. “It’s like he’s lying to me or something.” You sighed feel defeated and mildly too drunk now. Winnie bit her lip, glancing back at Jude again. 

“Maybe he’s stressed. You know they’re mid season, the England performance...” She tried to justify it. You nodded, but it didn’t feel like stress—not the usual kind, anyway. He wasn’t talking about football or the usual pressures that came with his career. He was just… closed off. In reality, Jude was starting to get nervous. Very nervous. Every time he thought about the proposal he had planned, his stomach knotted up, and the fear of spoiling it by slipping up was making him act weird. He didn’t know how to hide the excitement, the anxiety, and the pressure of keeping such a big secret from you. But you didn’t know that. To you, it just felt like distance. Like something was wrong, and he wasn’t telling you.

“Jude, are you okay?” you finally asked in a quiet moment, pulling him aside to a quieter corner of the party. You tried to keep your voice light, but the worry crept through. “You’ve been acting… weird.” You nervously explained.  He ran a hand over his hair, his eyes darting for a second before they met yours. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, angel,” he said, but it wasn’t convincing. Your heart raced. 

“Okay…Are you sure? Because I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. You didn’t… come here to break up with me, did you?” You asked bluntly your question laced with champagne confidence. Jude’s eyes widened in shock, and suddenly, the tension shifted. He let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, shaking his head as he grabbed your hands.

“No, Angel. God, no,” he said, pulling you closer, his voice earnest now. “I didn’t come here to end things. It’s the exact opposite.” He told you with a grin. You blinked, confused. 

“Then what—?” You asked. He sighed, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, his eyes softening. 

“Just let me be in my feels, baby.” He teased a bit, you could sense the joke but he still wasn’t answering your question. “Kicking off another year together. It’s nice just has me thinking.” You raised your brow. Jude could tell you didn’t believe him. “And I’m jet lagged, angel. Promise, I’m okay.”  He reassured you. Maybe you had one too many glasses of Dom because now your apprehension transitioned to excitement. He was thinking about the future. It felt like you were floating suddenly, trying to grasp onto the reality of the moment. He wasn’t leaving you. Maybe… just maybe he was planning a bigger future with you. Jude smiled, his nerves melting into something more tender. “Jet lagged and in love with you. No worries. Hmm?” He cooed once over, kissing your hair. 

“I thought you were going to break my heart,” you murmured against him, your voice shaky torn between excitement and relief. He held you tight, pressing another kiss to the top of your head before he started laugh. You could feel his chest begin to vibrate. 

“Never leaving. I’m here to stay. This year will be good for us… promise.” He cooed. After his clarification any stolen glances at Jude throughout the evening came with a sense that, no matter how luxurious the party or stunning the view of the city, the real magic was in the quiet moments between the two of you. The worry faded, replaced by a quiet, shared anticipation. And so, the New Year began, you looked at Jude with a new sense of certainty. This was it—your future was right in front of you.

When you got home from the New Year’s party, Jude’s mood had shifted so much since the party, it left your head spinning. All night, he’d been distant, distracted, and now since he told you he was fine,  it was as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. As soon as the front door clicked shut, he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you close before you could even set your bag down. His chest pressed against your back, and his hands rested firmly on your hips, his warmth enveloping you. At first, you froze, surprised by the sudden change. You turned slightly, trying to catch his eye. 

“Jude, baby?” you asked softly, your voice laced with confusion. He didn’t respond immediately, just buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply like he was trying to breathe you in. You gave a half-laugh, half-sigh, raising an eyebrow. “You’re being clingy,” you teased, turning in his arms so you could face him properly. “It’s making me nervous… what did you do?” There was a playful tone in your voice, but deep down, you felt a bit uneasy. The way he’d been acting earlier had already put you on edge, and this sudden affection was a sharp contrast to the distance he’d maintained all evening. It didn’t make sense. Words of certainty aside, his body language had you confused. You studied his face, searching for clues, but his expression was unreadable, his eyes soft but holding something back. Jude let out a small, nervous laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Nah, just missed you,angel,” he mumbled, his voice quieter than usual, almost shy. His grip on you tightened slightly, his arms wrapping more securely around your waist. He gave you a soft smile, but there was something in his gaze—a flicker of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on—that made you pause.

“Uh-huh, sure,” you said, your tone skeptical but light. You studied his face a little longer, trying to figure him out, but he wasn’t giving anything away. His hands slipped to your lower back, pulling you closer until there was no space between you. He leaned down and kissed your temple, then your cheek, before resting his forehead against yours. His touch was tender, his body language needy, like he couldn’t stand the idea of not holding you. Despite your suspicions, you felt yourself softening, your heart melting just a little at the way he clung to you. Maybe he really had just missed you. It wasn’t completely unlike him to be affectionate, but this was different. The way he held you tonight felt more intense, more urgent, like he needed you in a way he hadn’t before. You let out a small sigh, leaning into him, accepting his sudden clinginess even though the shift was still nagging at the back of your mind. “Alright,” you murmured, giving in. “Come on, let’s get to bed, needy boy.” You cooed. Jude’s eyes lit up, just slightly, as if relieved you weren’t questioning him any further. He took your hand and led you to your room, his fingers intertwined with yours, his grip still firm. You couldn’t help but notice the way he kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, like he was making sure you were still there, like he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go. When you got to the bedroom you went straight to the mirror to try to unzip your dress yourself but Jude followed close behind, crawling next to you, his body immediately pressing against yours. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel his heartbeat, steady but just a bit quicker than usual, as he buried his face in your hair. “You sure you’re okay?” you asked quietly, your fingers trailing lightly over his arm. You didn’t want to push him too much, but you needed to ask one last time.

“Yeah,” Jude whispered, his voice soft but sure this time. He kissed the back of your neck, lingering for a moment. “Just… wanted to be close to you tonight.” His words melted away the last of your suspicions, and you let yourself relax fully into his embrace. His warmth, his touch, it all felt so familiar, so comforting, that you couldn’t help but lean into him more.

“Okay,” you murmured, letting your eyes flutter closed momentarily. “I missed you too.” Jude tightened his hold on you, pressing another kiss to your shoulder. You couldn’t see it, but behind you, his face was a mixture of relief and nerves. He knew he had a plan, something big, something that was making him act weird—but for now, in this moment, he was just happy to have you in his arms.  Jude's hands lingered on your bare shoulders, tracing the delicate fabric.

"You looked so fucking good tonight, angel," he whispered, his lips moving to brush against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. It wasn’t Jude’s plan to have sex tonight he wanted to kick off his plan in full swing but he couldn’t resist now that he was home alone with you. His hands traveled down your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps, before reaching the zipper at the back of your dress. With a slow, deliberate motion, he slid it down, exposing your bare back. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the cool air on your skin. Jude's fingers danced across your shoulders, gently pushing the dress off, revealing your flawless skin. You stood before him in nothing but a pair of lacy black panties and a matching bra, your boobs straining against the delicate fabric. Jude's eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of your naked curves. "You're unreal," he whispered, his voice hoarse with need. He reached out, his fingers gently grazing your nipples through the lace, making you gasp. "I want to taste every inch of you." With that, he dropped to his knees, his hands gliding up your thighs, pushing your panties aside. Your breath quickened as you felt his warm breath against your wetness. Jude's tongue teased your clit, circling it slowly, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He explored your folds with his mouth, sucking and licking, driving you wild. You gripped his hair, urging him closer, your hips moving in rhythm with his tongue. His fingers joined the dance, slipping inside your pussy, finding your sweet spot, and thrusting gently. You moaned, your head thrown back, as he brought you to the brink of ecstasy.

"Jude, I'm gonna cum," you whispered, your voice breathless. He increased his pace, his tongue flicking relentlessly, and you exploded in a burst of pleasure. Your body trembled as the orgasm ripped through you, and Jude's mouth devoured your cries, his fingers still working their magic inside you. After your shudders subsided, Jude stood, lifting you into his arms. He carried you to the bed, his strong body cradling yours. Gently, he laid you on the soft sheets, his eyes never leaving yours. He kissed you deeply, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his earlier touches. Your hands roamed over his muscular back, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. With gentle hands, Jude removed your bra, freeing your tits. He leaned down, his mouth capturing a nipple, sucking and teasing it until you arched off the bed, moaning his name. His hand replaced his mouth, squeezing and kneading your sensitive flesh as he kissed his way down your stomach, leaving a trail of kisses.

"I want to feel you around me," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. He positioned himself between your thighs, his hard cock pressing against your pussy. With one swift thrust, he filled you, his length stretching you deliciously. You cried out, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. Jude began to move, his hips thrusting in a slow, steady rhythm. He gazed into your eyes, his expression filled with love and passion. "You feel so good, angel," he murmured, his voice strained with pleasure. He withdrew almost entirely and then thrust back into you, hitting that sweet spot deep within. You matched his rhythm, your bodies moving as one, the friction building to an intense crescendo. Jude's hands gripped your hips, guiding you as he pounded into you, his pace increasing with each thrust. You felt your orgasm building again, an overwhelming tide of pleasure.

"Jude, please, oh fuck,  I'm so close," you whispered, your breath coming in short gasps. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his hips. You climaxed, your pussy clenching around him, rippling along his length, and Jude followed, his body tensing as he filled you with his hot cum. As your orgasms subsided, Jude collapsed onto the bed beside you, pulling you close. He wrapped his arms around you, his chest rising and falling rapidly against yours. You could feel his heart pounding, matching the rhythm of yours. He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, and your lips, sweet and tender kisses that spoke of his love.

"I love you, Y/N, so so much," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "Happy New Year, my angel." You snuggled closer, feeling the warmth of his body and the softness of the sheets. The night had been a whirlwind of passion and pleasure, a bit of confusion, but if you knew one thing it was that Jude knew just how to make it all feel alright when you got into bed. Jude laid beside you pulling you into him. “Did so good for me. You always do so good. So fucking proud of you.” He cooed gently, peeling you off him ever so slightly so he cooed see your eyes. He kissed your forehead before he let you bury your face back into his neck to cling to him. 

“I love you, don’t leave me.” You whined with a pouty bottom lip, Jude could feel against his skin. He chuckled. The feeling of relief of Jude fucking you feeling incredible, but the fear of his behavior earlier still looming pulling you out of your haze.

“Angel… I told you earlier. I’m not going anywhere. Please, believe me. Love you more than anything.” He cooed gently massaging your tired muscles. You still couldn’t shake the emotions that had stirred up throughout the evening. He went silent for a while, just holding you close, but he could feel the way your body still tensed, the way your mind hadn’t fully settled. He kissed your temple, pulling you tighter into his chest, his warmth surrounding you. “I’m not leaving you,” Jude whispered softly, his breath warm against your skin. “Ever. You changed my life, you know that, right, baby?” You hugged him, feeling a sudden rush of emotion again, tears welling up in your eyes before you could stop them. You didn’t understand why they kept coming, but there was something overwhelming about the way he said those words, how certain he sounded. Maybe is was lingering effects of champagne, maybe it was a new year, maybe it was just Jude. You pressed your face into his chest, the tears falling quietly, and Jude noticed immediately.

“Why are you crying, sweet girl?” he asked, his voice gentle but laced with concern. He had a pouty smirk on his face knowing it couldn’t have been something too bad. You laughed through the tears, wiping your eyes.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, feeling a little embarrassed by how emotional you were.  “I think I’m just… happy. Scared? All of it?” You giggled tearfully. Jude chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.

“Well, if you want to stop crying for me,” he teased lightly, wiping another tear, “how about coming with me for work this week? We can travel together.” He cooed. You looked up at him, blinking away the last of your tears, and nodded immediately.

“Yeah, okay. I don’t want to be apart, Jude,” you said, your voice soft but firm. You didn’t want even an inch of space between you two right now. The thought of being apart made your heart squeeze uncomfortably. Jude smiled, kissing your forehead. 

“Good,” he murmured. “Because I hate when you cry, and I hate when we’re apart.” He smiled. In reality, though, what you didn’t know was that this trip wasn’t just work. It was the start of Jude’s master plan, the beginning of something much bigger than either of you had ever experienced. He held you close, knowing that the next few days were going to be some of the most important of his life. But for now, all he wanted was to keep you close, to keep you happy and loved, as the first steps of his proposal were about to fall quietly into place. As you drifted off to sleep that night in each other's arms, you couldn't help but wonder what the new year would bring, knowing that with Jude by your side, it would undoubtedly be filled with love, passion, and unforgettable moments.

When Jude asked if you’d travel with him for the week, you hadn’t thought much of it at first. You thought it was you two just being clingy and mushy. He had mentioned it was going to be a busy time for work—promotional appearances, some interviews, the usual whirlwind of his life. You were in New York already, so it felt easy enough to say yes. But there was something in the way he asked, something in his eyes, that made you feel like there was more to it. You didn’t have much time to dwell on it, though, because the next thing you knew, you were getting dressed for dinner. Jude had planned something special. 

You were sitting at the vanity in your ensuite, half-done with your makeup, when Jude came into the room, his reflection appearing in the mirror behind you. You were concentrating on the contour of your nose when you felt his hands gently grab your cheeks, squishing them together playfully.

“Jude, baby! Please!” you whined, laughing, trying to pull away without messing up your makeup. 

“Angel,” He just cooed softly, in that sweet tone that always made you melt, so you stilled, curious as to what he was up to. He leaned down, his face close to yours. “Can I ask you a question?” He asked to ask. His voice was soft, but there was something in it that made your heart pick up speed. After the conversations with Whitney the other week at Parc de Prince, you were suddenly hyper-aware of every little thing he did. You were overthinking and then underthinking things and right now you thought, Oh my god, not like this. Not in his sweats and your makeup only half done, hair a mess, and wearing no bra. Was this it? He took a deep breath, his thumb rubbing along your cheek, and your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest. “Do you want to go on a date with me tonight?” He cooed. You blinked, a little taken aback. That wasn’t what you expected. You let out a breathless giggle, your heart still racing from the build-up. 

“I thought we already were?” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him. He grinned at that, but there was something serious in his eyes.

“Nah, I mean a proper one, angel. I want to take you out. Like, really take you out. Dress up for me, yeah?” You couldn’t help but pout a little at how sweet the gesture was. But then your expression shifted into a real frown when you realized you didn’t have anything nice enough to wear. Your mind was already racing, thinking about whether you could pull something together last minute when Jude, ever so in tune with you, spoke up before you could voice your worry. “Relaxxxx.” He teased with a glint in his eyes. “The carrier’s supposed to drop off your dress by five,” he said with a soft smile, watching your expression change from concern to surprise. You giggled again, your heart swelling at how well he knew you. He had planned this out. You turned around fully in your chair, standing up and wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him closer, kissing the side of his neck. 

“Okay,” you whispered against his skin, swaying with him. “I’ll go on a proper date with you.” You giggled. “Thank you.” Jude hummed in satisfaction, hugging you back, his hands smoothing over your hair. 

“Good… you’re welcome, beautiful,” he whispered back, his lips brushing your temple. You could feel him smiling against your skin, and the thought of what was in store for the evening left you feeling giddy. So you found yourself in a black satin Prada mini dress, just right, just for you from Jude, seated across from him. The night was perfect—too perfect, in a way that made you feel both excited and unnerved. The city lights twinkled around you, casting a glow over the intimate setting, but all you could focus on was Jude. He looked at you with such intensity, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion you hadn’t quite seen before. As you sat at that table, your legs intertwined beneath it, Jude reached across and took your hand. His thumb traced gentle circles over your skin, grounding you in the moment. He smiled softly, his gaze never leaving yours. Then, in a voice that was steady but filled with emotion, he started to speak.

“You know… I don’t say this enough, but I’m so in love with you,” he began, his words hitting you with such honesty that it felt like they were carving themselves into your heart. He did say it enough but you liked the way he just said it. “You’ve changed my life, angel. I can’t imagine any part of my future without you in it.” He cooed. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. You felt exposed, like you were sitting there naked under his gaze, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t expected. Jude wasn’t usually this open, not like this—so raw and unfiltered. And all you could do was hum in response, nodding, but you couldn’t quite find the words. You weren’t used to this level of openness, and the way he was speaking, you should be after being with Jude for so long but the way he held your hand like you were his lifeline, made it hard to breathe for a moment. You could feel his love in every word, in every gentle squeeze of your hand. He was laying his soul bare before you, and it was both terrifying and exhilarating. Jude continued, his voice a bit softer, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before. I mean, I’ve loved you since the beginning, but now… it’s different. You’re my home. You make everything make sense.” His confession hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. Your throat tightened, and you squeezed his hand, trying to communicate through your touch what your voice couldn’t at that moment.

“It’s just a little scary, isn’t it?” you added finally saying something but wishing it was anything but that. “How someone can just come into your life and change everything.”

“It is, angel., innit” Jude smiled reassuringly. almost reading your mind. “But I wouldn’t want it any other way.” You bit your lip, trying to steady yourself. Jude had completely turned your life on its head from the moment you met him. And now, sitting here, hearing him tell you these things, it was almost too much. The way he was looking at you—it felt like he was holding your entire heart in his hands. “I’m not just saying this,” he whispered, leaning in slightly. “I mean it. You’re everything to me.” His words, the sincerity in his eyes, the soft glow of the city lights—it all felt like a dream. But you were wide awake, feeling more exposed than you had ever felt. And yet, despite the vulnerability, there was something calming in knowing how deeply he felt for you. 

“I… I feel the same way,” You took a deep breath, finding your voice, though it was barely above a whisper. “It’s just… a lot. You’re a lot.” You gave him a wry smile. You managed, your voice shaking slightly with the weight of the emotions surging through you. Jude smiled back , a small, understanding grin, and gave your hand another gentle squeeze. 

“Yeah, I know,” he said with a soft laugh. “But I think we’re good together. Don’t you?” He cooed gently. You nodded, your heart still racing. 

“Yeah,” you whispered. “We’re good together.” You concurred. You were doing everything in your power not to think about the gravity of this dinner, what it was, what it could mean. As you sat there, his words echoing in your mind, you couldn’t help but wonder what all this meant. The way he was speaking, the intensity of his emotions, the fact that he’d rented out an entire rooftop for just the two of you—it felt like something big was coming. But you pushed the thought away, not wanting to spoil the moment with overthinking. For now, you let yourself relax into the evening, letting Jude’s love wash over you like the warmth of the night air, holding onto the feeling of being seen, being cherished, even if it made you feel exposed. And then… 

That was it. Nothing just dinner, a good wine, some ‘I love yous,’ and then you were home, Jude under the duvet cover eating you out, new designer dress on the floor. In theory it should’ve been perceived as a good night. It was a good night, a perfect night so why did you feel disappointed. 

And so, disappointedly, over something you couldn’t quite label, you and Jude had left the chaos of New York behind, following him on what was supposed to be a work trip. Your hardened heart softened when you arrived in Birmingham. It was for work, you were told but even so, you quickly realized there was more to it than the usual business. Jude had been acting different—more reflective, quieter, as if returning to his hometown had brought up emotions he wasn’t sure how to navigate but you were trying not to think about it too much. One cold, foggy morning, you decided to take a walk together. The air was crisp, biting at your skin as you crossed through a park. Jude was beside you, holding your hand tightly, keeping you close to him as the winter air wrapped around you both. His breath, warm and steady, hovered near your temple, occasionally pressing a soft kiss there as you walked in comfortable silence. The park was beautiful in the winter, the trees bare but dignified, their branches stark against the grey sky. You noticed how the fog clung to the ground, wrapping around the trees and giving everything an ethereal feel. It was quiet, the kind of quiet that allowed thoughts to drift freely, unfiltered and raw. He slowed down for a moment, glancing around the park with a soft smile. 

“You know… this is where Jobe and I used to play football when we were kids,” he said, his voice low, tinged with nostalgia. You looked around, imagining a younger Jude running around with his brother, laughing and carefree. It was a far cry from the man standing beside you now—the one with the weight of the world on his shoulders. You smiled, leaning into him, glad he was sharing this part of his past with you. “Sometimes I think about that kid, you know?” Jude continued, his gaze distant. “The one who used to kick a ball around here for hours without a care in the world. I wonder what he’d think of me now…” You could hear the uncertainty in his voice, the vulnerability he rarely showed to anyone. Jude didn’t like to reflect negatively. If he was going to be introspective he wanted it to be positive. This didn’t feel that way. He sounded… worried. He wasn’t talking about the footballer the world saw. He was talking about the boy he used to be—the one who dreamed big but never knew what was coming. “As cliche as it sounds, I just hope he’d think I’m one of the good ones,” Jude added softly, his gaze fixed ahead, though you knew his mind was far away. “Not just on the pitch, but off it too. I don’t know… I hope he’d think I’m still cool.”You squeezed his hand gently, your heart swelling with affection for him. 

“He’d be proud of you, Jude,” you reassured him, no teasing just genuine feeling behind you’re words. “You’re everything you wanted to be and more. And yeah, you’re actually pretty cool—off the pitch too.” Your voice ever so slightly laced with amusment  He turned to you, a hint of doubt still lingering in his eyes. 

“Yeah? You think so?” he asked, his lips curving into that familiar teasing grin.

“Absolutely,” you said, matching his smile. “You’re one of the most genuine people I know. It doesn’t get cooler than that.” You told him earnestly.  He chuckled softly, a warmth spreading across his face. 

“Well, I know one thing—he’d be gassed to know I’ve got a girlfriend that looks like you.” He cooed with a grin. You laughed, shaking your head at his joke.

“Oh, would he now?” you teased, nudging him playfully as you walked.

“Fuck yeah, I’m still a little in awe myself,” Jude said with a chuckle, clearly enjoying himself. “Little Jude wouldn’t have known what to do with someone like you. He probably would’ve frozen up, all shy and awkward.” You hummed inquisitively, having a hard time imagining Jude go shy. You hugged him tightly, pulling him close and resting your head against his chest, the warmth of his body seeping into you despite the cold. 

“Good thing you know how to act now,” you teased, looking up at him, the light in your eyes mirroring the soft glow of the morning around you. Jude smirked, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Barely… Still just trying to impress you,” he joked, his voice full of affection. But underneath the playful banter, you could sense the deeper layers of his thoughts—his desire to be more than just the footballer people saw on the surface, to be someone worthy of the dreams he had as a kid. “You know, sometimes I think about what I’d tell that kid if I could,” Jude said, a serious tone creeping into his voice. “I’d tell him to dream, and not in a school way, in a way that people will tell him he needs back up plans, not to let anyone tell him he can’t do something.” He cooed and you hummed in agreement. Jude’s whimsy and aspirations were something that drew you to him because you rarely thought outside the confines of societal expectations. “But I’d also remind him to enjoy the little things, like just playing for the love of the game. I wish I could play one more match on this like Jobe and I versus our friends. I wish I remembered the last one.” He told you and you felt a little said hearing it. You nodded with a pout, understanding the weight of his words. 

“Jude… You’ve come a long way. I wish you could remember it too but I don’t think you’ve lost that. I think it’s something that sets you apart in all this. You genuinely like what you do. It’s a job and you’ll perform because you’re an adult working but you also go out there excited to play. I envy how much you love work.” You paused and Jude felt his heart slow. He never had someone really see him. Sure, Jobe, people like Trent understood it because they lived it but to have a partner who really got made his chest ache in a way he couldn’t define. “And you still have that love for the game. I see it in the way you play, in the way you talk about it. It’s still there, even with everything else that comes with it.” He smiled, looking down at you with that gentle affection that made your heart race.  You continued blabbering not knowing you were providing him a comfort he always longed for.

“Thanks, angel. You know… for saying that. It means a lot,” he replied. “Sometimes, it’s easy to get lost in all the noise. But with you, I just can block it all out. Just need you in my ear.” He cooed gently. 

“Right here.” You tapped on his angel tattoo behind his ear. He hummed in agreement.  You squeezed his hand tighter with your other, feeling the warmth radiate between you. “I’m always here, baby,” you promised, leaning in closer, enjoying the way he felt against you, solid and real. As you continued your walk, the fog started to lift, revealing a clearer view of the park. The sun peeked through the clouds, casting a warm glow over everything, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of hope blossoming in your chest.

“I’m glad we’re here together,” Jude said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. “Not just for my work," he lied but you didn't know that, "but to share this. I don’t get to come back often and in a weird way, even though you’ve been home with me… this park, it’s home for me. It feels special to get you here.” He smiled.

“It is special,” you replied, looking up at him. “Just like you.” He paused, a serious look crossing his face. 

“You know, I want you to be a part of everything in my life. This place, my family… everything.” He told you. Your heart raced at his words, a thrill of excitement mixed with a tinge of apprehension. He reached into his jacket pocket and your heart stopped. You could feel the weight of what he was saying, the unspoken promise hanging in the air between you.

“I want that too,” you said softly, your eyes locked onto his. You tried to slow your heart but you couldn’t and then you let out a breath as he pulled out his phone assumably. You felt dumb for a minute but when Jude kissed your temple you returned to the present.  And in that moment, as you stood together in the park where Jude had played as a child, you felt a deeper connection form—a bond that was as strong as the love that had already grown between you. The future felt uncertain, but with him by your side, you knew you could face anything together.

You left Birmingham, with no ring but you felt closer to Jude in a way that as much as he was a professional footballer, he also was your Jude… Your Jude who was once  little Jude Bellingham, a brummie boy in the park with his brother. Your Jude who you were now onto your next destination with, the worlds biggest footballer right now, in high demand. You arrived in Paris, the air was crisp and inviting, the kind of cold that made you feel alive. You’d warmed up next to Jude, not complaining yet. It was nice to be in a place that held so many memories, especially now that you were sharing it with him. As you strolled hand in hand, you passed by that little café, the one you and your mum used to visit, the one you had gone to with Jude as well.  You couldn’t help but smile, recalling the laughter and warmth that had filled those moments. The café had a timeless quality to it. The cobbled streets outside, the soft chatter of Parisians in the background, the way the light filtered through the windows and cast a warm glow over everything—it all made you feel like you’d stepped into a memory. But this time felt different, because Jude was here, every time Jude came to France, his presence made everything more vibrant, more real.

“Here?” you questioned, pointing the cafe out to Jude. He nodded eagerly, his eyes brightening at the thought of getting to experience a piece of your past again. As you stepped inside, the familiar aroma of fresh coffee and pastries enveloped you, instantly making you feel at home. Jude found a cozy corner table, and you both settled in. He ordered a bundle of everything—croissants, pain au chocolat, and something that resembled a small fruit tart. You chuckled, watching him interact with the barista in his charming yet butchered French, letting him fend for himself. The warmth of the café contrasted with the chilly air outside, creating a comfortable atmosphere where you could relax and enjoy each other’s company. As you waited for your order, Jude pulled you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm. 

“This is dumb,” you giggled, feigning annoyance even as you melted into him. But you didn’t mind; you loved feeling his warmth against you.

“Hey, it’s practical , I’m cold. I need you, angel,” he retorted playfully, his breath tickling your ear. “Besides, it’s the perfect excuse to be close to you.” His voice was low and sincere, and you could feel the flutter of your heart at his words. You nestled into him, feeling safe and cherished as he tightened his grip around you. The bustling sounds of the café faded into the background, and all you could focus on was him. He looked at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Angel, can I say something serious…” You nodded sheepishly. You hadn’t clocked this would be the third emotional monologue in a third sentimental pIace. “I’m so grateful you let me in,” he said quietly, sincerity lacing his tone. “Getting to see your world, to experience places with you�� it’s different. In your world, your Paris.” He cooed  Your heart swelled at his words. You had shared countless stories about your memories in Paris, but hearing him acknowledge them made everything feel more tangible. You watched the steam rising from your coffee, swirling upward, mixing with the cool air as it escaped into the open space of the café.

“It means a lot to me that you want to be a part of it, that you even want to be with me in these places,” you replied, looking up at him. “This city, this cafe, holds so much of my heart. Sharing it with you always make it feel even more special.” Jude’s expression softened as he gazed into your eyes, a mixture of love and admiration reflected back at you. 

“I’ll be honest… I wasn’t crazy about Paris before, hearing Aurel and Cama yap on and on about how great it is… but with you,” he said, gesturing toward the café, then to the view outside where people walked by, laughing and chatting. “Not too bad, angel.” He smirked. The barista brought over your pastries, and the moment shifted back to lightheartedness as Jude’s eyes lit up at the sight of the food. You took a bite of the flaky croissant, savoring the buttery flavor as you watched him take a big bite of his pain au chocolat. He grinned at you, chocolate smeared across his cheek, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Tu es un désastre.”  [you're a mess.]  You teased, reaching up to wipe the chocolate smudge away. He leaned into your touch, a playful glint in his eye.

“Oh, did you say I’m beautiful?” He smirked teasingly mocking you knowing that certainly wasn’t what you said. You rolled your eyes.  You both spent the next hour indulging in pastries and sharing stories, the café’s warmth wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. Each moment felt like a treasure, a glimpse into the life you were building together. The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and playful banter, creating a tapestry of shared memories you would cherish forever. As you finished your coffees, Jude took your hands in his, looking serious again. “I hope you know how important this place is to you. But whether it’s a place, a thing, a job, a person… Anything that is important to you…I will care about just as much you do, angel. You are the most important thing to me.” You smiled, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. 

“That means a lot to me…” You meekly told him feeling a bit pouty about the sentiment. At one point, it used to feel like Jude's world consisted of Jude's things and you were just in it before but Jude had made such an effort to show you that's not how things were.

“I know often it feels like footie is the most important thing in the world to me… but it’s not, angel.” He leaned in, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, the café around you fading away once again. In that moment, surrounded by the scent of coffee and the soft murmur of conversation, you knew that Paris would always hold a piece of your heart, but it was Jude who made it feel complete. Jude’s hand, warm and familiar, rested on your knee beneath the table, and you smiled as he absentmindedly traced small circles with his thumb. The city was so alive outside, but here, with him, it was quiet, as if the world had slowed down just for the two of you. You glanced around, taking in the details—the chipped paint on the wooden tables, the faint hum of jazz playing softly from the speakers, the soft murmur of voices around you. This café had always been special to you, a piece of your childhood tucked away in the heart of Paris. It was a place where your mum had brought you, where you’d sat at these same tables as a little girl, sipping hot chocolate and watching the world go by. Now, though, it held something more. It wasn’t just your past anymore—it was becoming your present, your future. You and Jude sat here together, creating new memories in a place already so rich with them. You took a final  sip of your coffee, its warmth spreading through you, and glanced at Jude. His face was soft, his gaze focused on you, and it made your heart ache in the best way. He always had this way of looking at you, as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

“It’s nice here, isn’t it?” you said, your voice gentle as you broke the silence. “Reminds me of my mum but being here with you. Adding more memories to this place… always makes me really happy. ” You smiled.  Jude smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, but before he could respond, a flood of emotion welled up inside you, and the words you hadn’t planned on saying slipped out. “I don’t think I could survive if things fell apart now.” You admitted almost unwillingly. You hadn’t meant for it to come out that way. It was too raw, too honest, and the vulnerability of it hit you like a wave. You blinked, your gaze dropping to your hands as you traced the edge of your cup, suddenly unsure of what to do with the emotions bubbling inside you. The fear of losing him, of losing everything you’d built together, had been sitting quietly in the back of your mind for some time, but saying it out loud made it real. Jude’s hand stilled on your knee, and for a moment, the world outside felt impossibly far away. You risked a glance up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. His face was serious now, his eyes searching yours as if he were trying to see into the very depths of your soul. This conversation was swinging like a pendulum and with real force. You weren't sure why but lately your dependency on Jude and your love for him had you terrified by the thought of loosing him. You bit your lip, suddenly regretting your confession. What if it was too much? What if you’d laid your heart bare, and it scared him away? But then, slowly, Jude set down his coffee cup and leaned forward, his hands reaching out to cradle yours. His touch was warm, grounding, as he gently turned your hands over in his palms, his thumbs brushing over your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

“Hey,” he whispered softly, drawing your attention back to him. His voice was low, intimate, as if this moment were just for the two of you, tucked away from the rest of the world. “You’re not going to lose me, angel. Not ever. Never.” The weight of his words settled between you, heavy and comforting. You swallowed, blinking back the emotions that had risen too quickly. His grip on your hands tightened, and you could feel the sincerity in his touch, in the way his eyes stayed locked on yours, unwavering. “I love you,” Jude said, his voice stronger now, more certain. “I protect the things that matter to me the most. And you, us, this relationship—this is everything to me.” Your breath caught in your throat as his words sank in. The fear that had been sitting in your chest for so long, the worry that had been eating at the edges of your happiness, slowly began to dissolve. You hadn’t even realized how much you’d needed to hear those words until now. You felt like you knew that. Everyone around Jude knew he care about the people closest to him but in the chaos. It was nice to hear… no, it was everything to hear. Jude’s hands moved to your face, gently cupping your cheeks, his thumbs brushing the soft skin beneath your eyes. “I promise you,” he murmured, his voice tender, “I’m not going anywhere. I protect this because… this is my life. You’re my life.” You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of his touch and the truth of his words wash over you. The café, the city, the world outside seemed to fade away until there was nothing left but the two of you, sitting together in this quiet, intimate moment. When you opened your eyes again, Jude was still watching you, his face soft, full of love. 

“I love you too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but in the quiet of the café, it was enough. You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his, your breath mingling with his in the cool air.  Jude’s lips found your temple, his kiss soft and lingering as he pulled you closer. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly, as if he could shield you from all the fears and worries that had been swirling inside you. It didn’t really matter about what came next because the present was perfect. And in that moment, you realized that this was what it meant to be truly safe. Not just in this café, or in this city, but with him. You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, your coffee forgotten, the cold outside kept at bay by the warmth of your connection. And as you sat there, the memories of your childhood, of your past, seemed to weave seamlessly with the life you were building now, with Jude by your side.

“Thank you for letting me in,” Jude whispered against your skin, his voice full of emotion. “For letting me be part of your world.” He cooed once more for good measure. You pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes, your heart full. 

“Thank you for being in it. I like that it's ours now," you whispered back, and in that moment, everything felt right. When you left the cafe, the air was crisp, a chill that made you pull your coat tighter around you, but the streets of Paris glowed with a golden warmth that made everything feel magical. You and Jude walked in comfortable silence, the quiet hum of the city around you like a soft melody. The world seemed smaller, cozier, when you were with him, like no matter where you went, he was the one that made everything feel like home. Paris had always held a special place in your heart, but tonight, it wasn’t the city that was giving you that sense of belonging—it was him. You glanced at Jude, watching the way the streetlights cast soft shadows across his face, making him look even more handsome, if that was possible. He caught you staring and grinned, that lopsided smile of his that always made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a rush of warmth that had nothing to do with the chilly night. As you reached the corner of the street, you impulsively grabbed onto the lamp post, swinging around it playfully, the cold metal cool against your hands. 

“Did I ever tell you how much I like you?” you teased, your voice light, playful, as you spun to face him. Jude stopped in his tracks, raising an amused brow as he took a step closer, pulling you into his arms. The light from the streetlamp bathed the two of you in a soft, golden glow, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had faded away. You were only aware of the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the smell of his cologne, and the way his hands rested on your hips, grounding you in the moment.

“Like me?” he repeated, his voice teasing but low, full of affection. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours. “As in, like me as a person? Or…” He trailed off, his eyes twinkling with mischief. You giggled, the sound escaping before you could stop it, and he smiled wider, pulling you even closer. 

“I mean, I love you despite the things that should drive me crazy,” you teased back, trying to hold onto your composure but knowing full well he saw right through you. Before you could finish your thought, Jude kissed you, silencing your laughter with a soft, lingering press of his lips. His hands slid up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing lightly across your cheekbones as he deepened the kiss. The cold air nipped at your skin, but with Jude’s body warm against yours, it felt like the perfect kind of contradiction—cold night, warm heart. When he pulled back, his eyes were still locked on yours, his face soft and open. 

“I like you too, angel,” he whispered, his voice almost reverent. There was something so pure in the way he said it, like it held a deeper meaning than the words themselves. You swayed together under the streetlight, wrapped in each other, the world spinning gently around you as if it were dancing along with the two of you. The golden light flickered across Jude’s face, casting shadows that only made him look more breathtaking. You leaned into him, your head resting against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. It was a sound you could get used to, the comforting rhythm that told you he was there, with you, no matter where you went. Drunk on love and the magic of the night, you let out a soft sigh, feeling a happiness that seemed to bubble up from the very core of your being. It wasn’t just Paris that felt perfect tonight—it was this moment, this connection, this love that wrapped itself around you like the softest, warmest blanket. With Jude, every place you visited, every street you walked down, every moment felt like home. It didn’t matter if it was Paris, Madrid, or somewhere you’d never been before—he was the one who made the world feel right. And this very feeling was exactly what Jude was striving for… It was exactly what he wanted you to know. You lifted your head to look at him again, your heart swelling at the sight of him, illuminated by the glow of the streetlamp, looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice soft but filled with the weight of everything you felt. Jude’s lips curled into a smile, and without saying a word, he leaned down and kissed you again, the night wrapping itself around you both as if sealing the promise of everything that was still to come.

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - The Final| Chapter 25 - Fiancé xx

[rei-ismyname]

Xavier's mission

His head would become much shinier over the years, fortunately.

Obviously this is Silver Age nonsense, but even for the sixties it's pretty uncomfortable. A bunch of white, mostly middle class, attractive teens join a closeted billionaire in his mission to police mutants that step out of line. Their mission is not to be superheroes, or save the planet, it's to protect mankind from 'evil' mutants. That's the binary, good mutants (X-Men) and evil mutants (those that 'don't want to help mankind...') - with nothing in between.

One of the reasons I think Stan Lee is full of shit when he claims the X-Men were influenced by the civil rights movements is this clear mission statement. They can't stand in for any kind of minority when presented as noble and righteous for self policing/enforcing assimilationism. It just doesn't work. Magneto, for instance, is not presented with any kind of coherent ideology - he's a discount Doctor DOOM who just wants to rule the world. The 'minority' actually has the kind of superhuman powers found in white supremacist and fascist propaganda plus the evil mutants are actually just straight up evil, zero nuance.

Once Magneto was retconned into having very good reasons for opposing Xavier's respectability politics and became a complex antagonist, the conversation started making more sense. The X-Men recruiting more non-white members was a step, but I'd argue it was a small one. It really only looks progressive next to other superhero teams, and it took a good while for their different experiences to become a meaningful element of their characters - with some pretty offensive stereotyping and fetishization along the way.

The X-Men's mission right now is survival, I think. What else can it be? House of X made it clear how attached Xavier is to his dream, earnestly presenting it as staggeringly naive. I'd love to see this conversation had in the books, unpacking the original mission and its iterations over the years. Many characters have addressed it, if indirectly. Scott has openly rejected it on more than one occasion yet often 'Xavier's dream' has been held up as a totem of righteousness. The X-Men's true north. The undefined means to an improbable end.

More than anything I'd like to hear from Xavier on the matter. This is what he's devoted his life to, and influenced others to do the same. Constantly fighting, sometimes dying, and for the most part doing things his way. Scratch that - someone should put The Dream and Xavier on trial. Not necessarily in a punitive sense, just as a method of getting to the truth of the matter. Presenting what evidence there is, hearing witnesses, interrogating its success and value. A dialectic to examine the history and establish the X-Men's identity and future.

[cyraclove]

six(ish) sentence sunday

I am 8,712 words into dénouement ch 4 and it just keeps getting longer rip me

thank you all for being so patient with me !! my musical opens next sunday so it's going to be a lil hectic for a bit

please have some ch 4 crumbs ilysm

This.  There it is again, the word that’s been relentlessly haunting her. An amorphous, undefined something begging to be given shape, to be given meaning.  What is this?  A facade, an illusion. Projection.  It’s the only explanation for Eddie’s sudden attraction to her. It makes perfect sense, him being carried away by the salacious content of her class. Simply by teaching the material, Chrissy had become the object of his misconstrued desire. 

[takingchences]

𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐩𝐭. 𝟏𝟓

Where the descendant of a legendary quirk longs to rewrite history by becoming a hero. But in order to fulfill her dream, she must first face off against ghosts from her past and a growing attraction for the insufferable Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!oc

Warnings: mature language, angst

LOTS of angst this chapter. Touya Todoroki is mentioned in this chapter, and for the sake of this fanfic, he will be aged down to 3-4 years older than Shoto and Sana. Enjoy!

series masterlist + my masterlist

The second round of battles were even more intense than the first. Bakugou was pitted against Kirishima, who'd won an arm wrestling match against his Class B doppelgänger in a tiebreaker. Sana herself would be engaging in a battle against Ole Greased Lightnin' himself.

And to top it off, the big rivalry of the day would come to a head in the last match of the round: Midoriya vs. Todoroki.

Why do you keep getting in my way, Izuku Midoriya? Her jewel-like burned holes in the back of Midoriya's bushy head. She hissed out a breath in irritation. Mina nudged her to get her attention.

"So... who is it?" She giggled.

"What are we talking about?"

"You can drop the act." The pinkette leaned in close with a devious smirk. "Denki already spilled the beans. So," she poked her arm with a perfectly manicured nail. "Who's the lucky guy?" Jirou, who was sitting with Momo in the row in front of them, subtly pointed her earjack in their direction.

"Right," she nodded slowly with a deep sigh. "That." Sana glanced down at the arena, where two of their friends were stretching. She turned away just as the ash blonde raised his head. "I don't think it's going to work out."

"What?" Mina gasped, a distressed expression on her face. "No! Why?"

Jirou dropped her act, now fully turned in her seat to join the conversation.

Sana bit her lip. It's not that she didn't trust the two girls, but her feelings for Bakugou were complicated, especially on days like today where his abrasive personality successfully pushed her away. She didn't think Bakugou would appreciate her airing their problems in front of the entire class. This chaotic, beautiful bond they share was theirs alone. She cherishes their relationship; this unspoken, undefined thing. Whatever it is that they have is delicate, and Sana didn't want to be the one to break it.

But the way he'd ripped his hand out of her's still stung. Just moments before, he'd been laughing and joking with her... only to shut her out afterwards. It was always one step forward, two steps back with him. Sometimes, it felt like she was the only trying to work at their relationship.

The same could be said for her friendship with Shoto. While she was actively trying to mend the rift, the dual-haired boy was blatantly ignoring her efforts, instead choosing to distance himself further.

Sana shrugged helplessly. "Because it feels like it will only end with my heart broken." She replied quietly.

She didn't just mean Bakugou, but Shoto as well.

Mina opened her mouth to add to their conversation, but was cut off by Midnight telling the competitors to begin their fight. Sana was grateful for the Pro's interference. The solar girl needed to focus on her upcoming match, and thinking about Bakugou would only serve as a distraction.

Explosions and smoke filled the air. Down below, a battle of stamina was taking place, and by the looks of it, the hotheaded blonde was winning. "Bakugou seems... different, doesn't he?" Sero commented aloud from a few seats down.

Tsuyu touched her chin thoughtfully. "Now that you mention it, he did seem pretty calm after fighting Ochaco."

Sana scoffed under her breath, sliding further down in her seat. The constant back and forth of does he or does he not, and the push and pull of her heartstrings was getting to be too much. It feels like the only one playing games, Katsuki, is you.

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Sana didn't think anyone was surprised by Bakugou's victory. Nothing against Kirishima, of course, but the ash blonde's tenacity and relentless attacks from the very beginning painted a pretty clear picture of who the winner would be. The redhead's quirk didn't make him invincible, and Bakugou had used that to his advantage.

Sana noticed Iida stand and leave the seating area. He was probably getting warmed up since their match was coming up.

The two boys joined them a few minutes later, Bakugou silently stewing in anger despite being the first to earn a spot in the semi-finals. Eijiro's smile was bittersweet. He was happy for his friend, but upset that his own time in the Sports Festival had come to an end.

Sana gave him a few head pats once he sat down, making him grin.

Tokoyami and a vine-haired girl were up next. His technique was similar to the one he'd used in the first round against Momo. While that match lasted roughly thirty seconds, this match was more prolonged. The girl's quirk, like Dark Shadow, was perfectly suited for long range combat. As soon as she wrapped vines around the large shadowy creature, he would slip back into Tokoyami's body, only to reappear moments later. Eventually, Tokoyami and Dark Shadow were able to overpower the girl and win the match.

Sana left her classmates with a chorus of good luck's following her out. A few had even expressed concern about her choosing not to warm up beforehand. Her laughing in response only served to increase their worry.

Sana made her way down to the entrance, spotting her opponent across the way. She saluted him with two fingers and a wink. The bespectacled boy bowed his head in acknowledgment.

Mrs. Midnight announced who was next, waving for them to step out into the arena. Present Mic gave his own comedic commentary while his partner, Mr. Aizawa, watched them apathetically.

Midnight snapped her whip. "Begin!"

The blue-haired boy dashed forward, trying to catch her off guard. Sana had overheard Midoriya  rattling on about a new power move he'd shown off during the calvary battle. Some kind of turbo boost that made the speedster even faster, but, according to those who'd witnessed it, the impressive move had serious drawbacks.

Sana wasn't sure how often he was able to use it, or for how long, or if he would even chance using it so soon after the second event, but she didn't plan on giving him the opportunity.

Her logic was simple, really.

"Catch me if you can," she smirked before disappearing into thin air. Iida couldn't beat her if he couldn't see her.

Present Mic, as well as the rest of those watching (on campus and at home) were stunned by the display of power. "HUUUUUUH?" The voice hero shrieked. "ERASER, WHAT'S THIS?"

Mr. Aizawa sighed into the microphone. "Sakano's quirk allows her to take in and manipulate light. By bending the light around her, Sakano can make herself appear invisible."

"SO COOL!"

Iida also looked quite stunned, skidding to a halt a few feet away from where she'd vanished.

Like most of their class, the boy had assumed the strawberry blonde would use her quirk to enhance her speed... which is exactly why she chose not to. It would be a complete waste of time and energy. She could easily outrun the boy using her quirk. She'd proven that their first day of class during Aizawa's apprehension test. No, this was a chance to conserve power while also showcasing her range of abilities to the world.

The class president was already at a disadvantage coming in, knowing what she could do... except no one knew what all Sana was capable of.

Not even her.

"Don't you remember what Sensei said at the USJ?" Sana's voice floated through the air. Iida spun around to try and determine her location, but it was useless. Her voice seemed to come from every direction. Warm fingers curled into the fabric of his uniform jacket, yanking him backwards forcefully. Surprised by the sudden, aggressive assault, Iida lost balance, only aiding his opponent in hurling him across the boundary line. "No good hero is a one trick pony."

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Sana returned to her seat with a bounce in her step. Her friends congratulated her for making it into the semi-finals along with Bakugou and Tokoyami. There was only one more match left. The moment they'd all been waiting for since the war declaration this morning.

Sana shifted in her seat, her long hair sticking to the damp skin of her neck, making her uncomfortable. She fanned her face with her left hand as Midoriya and Shoto stepped onto the field. Soon, she tried to appease the sweltering heat consuming her from the inside, demanding to be released. Not yet.

Shoto was the first to attack, sending a wave of ice towards the greenette, only to be pushed away by a powerful blast. The crowd went crazy once they realized what had happened; Midoriya had stopped the ice by breaking his finger.

Shoto didn't hesitate, attacking relentlessly over and over, only for Midoriya to thwart him once again. The greenette was only playing defense, which Sana found strange. Why wasn't he trying to counterattack? The boy was just standing there and mutilating himself. It didn't seem like a good strategy to follow. After all, he only had so many fingers to sacrifice.

Midoriya didn't seem to know or care about that, though. Instead of changing his course of action, the freckled boy continued to further damage his body by using his already broken fingers to protect himself against Shoto.

Sana threw her head back in exasperation. Idiot.

A particularly strong blow from Midoriya sent Todoroki flying back, the dual haired boy creating a blockade of ice to keep him from going out of bounds. Frost was blooming across the right side of his body, climbing rapidly. He wouldn't last much longer like this. Sana knew what was coming. Tremors would soon overtake his body, his muscles stiffening to conserve heat and impairing his movements.

Shoto was reaching his limit.

The two came to blows, the greenette landing a solid hit to his opponent's stomach while Shoto froze his arm in retaliation. All the while, the boys seemed to be having a heated discussion, but between the shattering of ice, gusts of wind, and chatter of the crowd, it was difficult to hear what they were saying.

"IT'S YOUR QUIRK!" Midoriya screamed at the red and white haired boy. "NOT HIS!"

For a moment, her world stopped spinning.

Eyes wide and unblinking, Sana leaned forward in her seat to catch the reaction of the youngest Todoroki, who appeared as stunned as she felt. What came next was an even bigger shock. She wasn't sure if he consciously activated his quirk or if the flood of emotions he was obviously experiencing triggered it... but Shoto's left side burst into flames.

Beautiful scarlett and gold embers streamed off his body and grew into a wildfire. She gasped, covering her mouth in awe as tears pricked her eyes. He... did it.

"SHOTO!" The flaming pile of garbage known as Endeavor shouted from the stands. "You finally accepted your purpose. Very good. This is the dawn of a new era for us." Sana glowered down at the despicable man. Even Present Mic seemed uncomfortable with the Pro's announcement, quickly drawing their attention back to the two teenagers. The battle ramped up now that Shoto was using his full power.

Midnight tried to intervene, voicing her concern, but it was too late. With a mighty explosion, the entire stadium was thrown into chaos. Thick steam blinded them as they tried to check on the two boys. After minutes of stumbling through the fog, Midnight announced that Todoroki would be the one moving on. The greenette's body was found embedded in the stone wall behind him. Med robots carted the unconscious boy away from public view, much to their classmates' concern.

Sana felt torn between wanting to curl into a ball and cry or scream at the top of her lungs until her vocal chords were raw. All this time, she'd been trying to show Shoto that he was his own person and not an extension of his father as the man would have him believe. But once again, Midoriya was somehow able to achieve the impossible.

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

While the Sakano heir was having an emotional breakdown, a family reunion was happening in a hall on the other side of the stadium. Shoto ignored the approaching figure of his father.

"What's the matter?" The Pro crossed his arms smugly. "Not gonna tell me to get lost?" He looked down at his son's exposed body, half of his shirt burned away. "You need to learn to control your left side. It's dangerous to release so much energy like that." His smirk widened further. "But I'm glad you're finally seeing reason. Now that you've abandoned your childish rebellion, we can get back to what's important. After you graduate, you'll work by my side-"

"Out there," Shoto suddenly spoke, voice soft as a whisper. "For that one moment, I forgot all about you. Whether it's good or bad... whether it's the right thing to do, I don't know." He shouldered past the stunned man. "Maybe I don't need you."

The hero's clenched fists shook in anger.

"What he needs," Sana had snapped at him. "Is help... and we both know you're the last person he'd go to for that."

"That girl," he seethed, catching Shoto 's attention. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "She's ruined you. You wouldn't be acting this way if she hadn't planted her own rebellious thoughts in your head."

Shoto faced his father once again, his expression unreadable, but his eyes were so cold and empty that it made the Flame Hero pause. "That girl," the dual quirk user drew the words out slowly. "Was the only family I had left."

Endeavor took a step back in shock, his bright eyes blown wide. "Shoto-"

"You've taken everyone from me. My mother, my siblings," the teenager met his father's gaze head-on, further surprising the pro. "My friendship with Sana was the one thing in my life that was mine..."

There was a small hitch in Shoto's breath and a look of devastation in his eyes. "And you ruined that, too."

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Bakugou and Tokoyami were the first match up of the semi-finals. The announcement made Sana chuckle to herself, though she was far from amused.

She would be fighting Shoto. Again. In front of an audience. Again. Only this time, it would be broadcast on national television for everyone to see, including their fathers. If a bolt of lightning struck me down right now, the universe would be doing me a favor.

Her childhood rival sat stoic in the furthest row, a clear divide between himself and the rest of the class. Sana sighed, shaking her head and facing forward. He's really taking this no friends thing to another level.

The solar girl excused herself to head to the waiting room. She needed to prepare herself to face Shoto. Sana slumped down in the metal chair, burying her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook with the force of the sobs she so desperately fought to contain.

She was genuinely happy for Shoto. She wanted nothing more than to run to her old friend and smother him with hugs and kisses and praise for the giant step he'd just taken... but that wasn't her place anymore. She wasn't sure where her place in the world was if not by his side. She'd never had to think about it before.

Now it was all she could think about.

And losing that spot to someone they'd just met not too long ago hurt more than any pain she'd ever experienced. Was she as expendable as her mother? Was she forever to be belittled and used and discarded by those closest to her? There's only so much rejection a person can handle in a lifetime, and she had a terrible feeling that she was about to hit her max today. The fact that millions of people would bear witness to her humiliation gave her very little comfort.

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

"They've given us impressive performances so far." Present Mic started the introductions as Midnight coaxed Sana and her opponent out from the shadows of the tunnel entrances. "And they're totally famous! YEAH! It's the battle of the elite: Shoto Todoroki vs. Sana Sakano."

The response from the crowd was deafening.

Sana wasn't sure if the moisture in her palms was from nerves or simply her quirk begging to come out. Both, probably. She was almost looking forward to Shoto's ice to help her cool off.

No, not Shoto.

The boy standing across from her was Todoroki. There was a difference between the two. Her Shoto was soft spoken, thoughtful, and thanks to his isolated upbringing, often clueless when it comes to things like social queues or pop culture references. Humor and sarcasm flew right over his head. It was one of her favorite things about him: his innocence. How he'd managed to hold onto it despite all of the trauma he and his family had endured, she'll never know. Todoroki was that scared, moody kid who used to glare at her from across the room as his father encouraged them to tear into each other.

But the heterochromatic boy currently staring through her was foreign. She didn't know this version of her best friend, not even when they were children and refused to get along. Back then, he'd just been angry, but this went beyond anger. This was hatred, loathing, despair. Things she never would've used to describe Sho. Her Sho.

"Are you ready to talk?" Sana activated her quirk as soon as the match began, her entire body beginning to glow.

"I have nothing to say to you." Shoto stomped on the ground, sending a mountain of ice in her direction that she bypassed easily. It was a familiar dance that they could perform with their eyes blindfolded, in the dark, after being spun in circles a dozen or so times. They knew each other too well. It was a double-edged sword, a blessing as well as a curse.

"Really?" She scoffed, arching a brow. "Because it sure feels like you're bottling up a lot of shit right now. So spit it out." She threw her arms out to her side in annoyance. "You can't ignore me forever, Sho. I'm not going anywhere."

The boy's gaze was as hard as stone, void of any emotion. "You made sure of that, didn't you?"

"The hell are you talking about?"

"You gave me hope. You made me think things could be different." A chill filled the air as a turbulent wind of snow flurries spun around him. "You made me believe that you cared." Turquoise and gray eyes burned into her like hellfire and frostbite, stealing the breath from her lungs. "You lied."

"Will you stop talking in riddles and just tell me what I did to make you hate me?!"

A blizzard tore through the battle arena, eclipsing the two teens. The onlookers gasped and cried out in shock as fierce winds tugged at their hair and clothing. The best friends-turned-rivals were obscured from view, the only thing visible was Sana's glowing silhouette moving swiftly within the white and gray haze.

"I t-thought after fighting Deku, Todoroki would ease up a bit." Uraraka hugged herself, her breath visible as she shivered. "But he seems even more fired up than before!"

"Kero," Tsu croaked sleepily.

"Yo, Bakubro. I dunno why," Kirishima scratched his chin. "But this matchup feels kinda personal, don't ya think?"

Bakugou scowled down at the stage with his arms crossed, his jaw set in stone. He knew exactly how personal this fight was. He'd overheard Todoroki reveal his family's dark origins to Deku in the corrider during break and had almost retreated back to the student section when he heard Sana's name.

"Since the dawn of quirks, many families have relied on quirk marriages to grow and harness their power. Look at Sakano: her family's legacy is built on a glowing baby. How else could they have stayed in power for centuries if not through selective breeding? How could she hold a fraction of the power she does if her ancestors hadn't practically monopolized light and heat-based quirks?"

It suddenly occurred to Bakugou that this was probably the most emotion he'd heard the dual-haired boy express in the months they'd known each other. Anger and annoyance were easy to recognize, but there was something else buried underneath as he spoke of the class beauty. It made the ash blonde's chest tighten.

"My mother's family was well-known for their strong ice quirks, which is why my father seeked her out. It's his wish to build a legacy of his own and cement the Todoroki name in history."

This is fuckin' boring, Bakugou kicked off the wall he was leaning on to leave. "She didn't know it at the time, but Sana was engaged to my brother when we were kids."

The ash blonde froze midstep.

"Our parents arranged the whole thing. But..." For the first time since he'd begun telling Midoriya—and unknowingly, Bakugou—his life story, the dual-haired teen seemed reluctant to continue. The youngest Todoroki cleared his throat uncomfortably. "... something happened when we were younger and the engagement was called off. My father only told me all of this because he wants me to marry Sana in my brother's place."

Midoriya gasped, and Bakugou nearly did as well. He inhaled sharply, his vermilion eyes blown wide as his fists clenched at his sides.

"Her father refused the offer at first... but I have reason to believe he's reconsidering."

Bakugou forced himself to walk away, unable to stomach another word without rounding the corner and demanding the peppermint bastard tell him everything he knows. Was Sana in on this? Did she even know? Why her? He wanted to ask. Why did it have to be her?

The sucker punched feeling he'd become oh so familiar with since enrolling in U.A was back. The pressure temporarily vanished when Sana joined him in the stands, flashing him that cheeky grin with those jewel-like eyes that, even when she was laughing and goofing off with the rest of the Derp Squad, always seemed to hold a touch of sadness. Bakugou felt like he was finally beginning to understand the enigma that is Sana Sakano, just as she'd been trying to figure him out since that first day of class.

He'd always felt that the strawberry blonde was putting on an act, pretending to be someone she wasn't for others' sake. He'd even called her out on it during their heated argument outside her house just days before. But slowly, he was starting to see glimpses of her, the real her, behind the facade. But he couldn't help but feel as though he was only just now seeing the truth hidden behind layers of charming smiles and smartass comments because the half-and-half told him exactly where to look.

"You don't know her like I do."

The pain in his chest flared, the fear of being second to anyone causing him to lash out at the solar girl. I know, dammit. Bakugou dragged a calloused hand down his face in frustration as she turned her back on him, then kicking the seat in front of him with his boot.

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

She was in the eye of the storm. Sana was sure the only reason she could see her own hands in front of her face was because they were glowing faintly. She knew that Shoto would be able to spot her easier this way, but she also knew the second she deactivated her quirk, she'd be a goner. Her body would quickly succumb to the freezing temperatures around her and Shoto would be named the victor.

"I know you're using his quirk," his voice called out to her in disgust. He'd felt the heat coming off of her from across the arena. Only one person was capable of producing fire that intense. Flames straight from Hell itself, wielded by a devil in disguise.

"I needed to get your attention somehow." Sana called into the dense fog surrounding them. Everything was white and hazy and cold, though she hardly noticed the chill in her current state. Enji's fire flowed like lava through her veins. "This seemed the most effective way."

He chuckled dryly. "You're shameless."

"...what?"

The air in front of her stirred and shifted, a sign that her opponent was close. "Taking bribes from my father? Asking him for favors?" The dual-haired boy's voice grew in volume and intensity with every word. "You sold yourself to him, Sakano."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sana frowned.

"How are you here at U.A? We were both there when my father said the only way you'd be recommended to this school was if you agreed to marry me after graduation."

"And I said no-"

"-yet here you are!" He shouted. "Recommended to the top hero school in Japan. So, who was it then? What Pro would vouch for you... the daughter of the man that has done nothing but curse their profession since he gained office? Who else would've recommended you but my old man?"

Sana thought back to that white envelope she'd received in the mail months ago containing the date and time of her entrance exam. The solar girl was completely blindsided by her status as a recommendation student. The letter included a note from Principal Nezu stating that the pro had asked to remain anonymous.

"I don't know!"

"Liar." His voice was getting closer, she noted. Right now, Shoto has the advantage, but Sana isn't going to go down without a fight. "You said things would be different this time around, that we'd have a choice. You promised we wouldn't become our parents. You swore to honor Touya."

Sana whirled around, coming nose to nose with her former friend.

There was a surprising fury in his eyes that she hadn't seen in years. Never with Shoto, no, but a beautiful, snow-haired boy with eyes that rivaled the sky. Touya was a name she longed to forget... only because the memories it brought to mind were too painful to put into words.

"What do you think Touya would say if he could see you now? Scheming with my old man?" It sounded as though the words had been ripped from his body involuntarily. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breaths coming out in pants. "I didn't have a chance to know him like you, but I think he would be ashamed of what you've become."

Shoto knew every weakness she'd ever had—had helped her discover most of them—but he'd never hit so below the belt. Over the years, they'd both demonstrated that their weaknesses extended beyond physical blows. Verbal and emotional attacks worked just as well, and clearly neither of them were above using such underhanded tactics. But this-

Sana stumbled back, as if the accusation was a physical blow. She would've preferred that to hearing those words. "Wha-? No!" She gasped, her eyes burning with tears. "I would never-"

"Don't you ever get tired of lying to everyone all of the time?"

"Can he fucking see you? See past the bullshit act you put on?" Before this year, Sana's answer would've been a resounding yes... but everything was different now.

He can't see me, she realized. Not anymore. All he sees now is that man. She steeled her shoulder and flexed her hands, mentally armoring herself, but it was too late. Shoto had taken her shattered heart—the same one he'd helped mend all those years—and stabbed her with the shard she'd given him to protect. He'd used her love against her and twisted it.

The battle wasn't over, but she'd already lost.

[our-aroace-experience]

i think me and this guy may actually got in a queerplatonic relationship together and no one us realized?

so, explaining

im aroace for starter (kinda obvious), but i dont think im demi or gray or like that, just like none none never bye bye

i got this friend, lets call him B. we started to hang out, we like vibe together, have complementing personalities and similar interest, plus everything brings us together (we go to the same school and same class, our moms are friends, he lives one block from me, etc)

we hang out for the stupidest things, like help each other with homework, or that i missed his cat, etc. plus, we talked a lot through text message, we talk deep shit, dumb shit, hobbies shit, all.

everyone would think we are friends. but the thing is we dont call each other "friend" or at least i dont think he percives as one. we often say "i wish i had friends" / "me too" (we are impopular nerd losers with barely any social life) but also "we need to stay together" (in a different context). Like we really value each other, but not as friends and not as couple. Something different.

And it is different. I dont feel i can talk to other friends like i talk to him, i can say the dumbest randomest wild shit and he will listen and answer with the same energy.

so i think we accidentaly are in qpr? or just really close friends? i dont consider him my best friend, even though any outsider would think so. but it also feels weird calling it a qpr? i dont think the term qpr fits but friend doeesnt either?????? man, im confused (man in a gender neutral way, by the way, what are your pronouns? mine she/her and someties she/he)

also, kinda scare about him getting romantic feelings? he does feel romantic atraction and he knows im aroace (first person who knew) so i dont know

it could be alterous attraction, which is attraction that isn't platonic, romantic, or queerplatonic! its more undefined, but a very strong connection. i'm glad you found someone you can be so close to!

(my pronouns are they/neos! so basically anything other than she/he)

[aspec-manga-snom]

Aspec Manga Rec: Our Dreams at Dusk

Written and illustrated by Yuhki Kamatani, Our Dreams at Dusk is a manga about self acceptance, dealing with expectations, the power of queer spaces and the relief in questioning one's own identity.

Trigger Warning: Homophobic Comments, Mentions of Sexual Content, Transphobia, and Mentions of Suicidal Intent. I you can handle these topics, I highly reccomend this manga. If not, I break down the main aspec character below the break.

This manga is a masterpiece of identity and the overwhelming heteronormative expectations of society. The manga itself is incredibly contemplative of these topics but also the power and solidarity that comes with queer spaces. A lot of this is my own interpretation and the manga leaves a lot up in the air for the reader to decide for themselves.

Light Plot Spoilers Below:

The main plot of the manga follows Tasuku Kaname and his process of dealing with the fact that he was outed as gay to his high school class. The evolution of his self-acceptance and moving towards living a queer life in the public eye is the main conflict, but he isn't the one I want to focus on.

The main supporting character of the manga is Anonymous. She owns the small house from which a community sprung out supporting many queer individuals who couldn't find themselves elsewhere in society. But her origins are what make her characterization as an aspec character interesting, though she prefers to remain unlabeled.

We are first introduced to Anonymous as she flies through the air and confronts Tasuku when he is contemplating suicide after being outed at school. Multiple times throughout the manga show her often appearing and disappearing at will, seemingly able to do whatever she wishes to do. She is as she says, "nobody".

In listening to one of the older members of the community, they recount giving her the identity of "nobody" because she felt like she couldn't be defined by society because of her lack of romantic and sexual attraction.

Important Note: A lot of the time in Japanese Media the term "Asexual" refers to the term "Aromantic Asexual" in English as it is in this case. An "alloace" would be "Nonsexual". There isn't any adopted phrase for aroallo people, though there are ways of describing the feeling rather than a label.

Anonymous desired to be so because of a lack of social support in Japanese society for people that want to remain "isolated", so she accepted an identity that remains "invisible". Anonymous also identifies as free of gender but is referred to by female pronouns.

This ungrounded identity is really expressed later in the manga near the end, inspiring the idea that your labels aren't your entire personhood and that you are a living breathing person just like everyone else, even if you are Anonymous. Anonymous isn't Anonymous because she is Asexual; she is because she wants to remain undefined as a person. Anonymous isn't a list of labels and personality traits, she is the foundation for a network of support, and that is what is most important to her.

Anonymous is a characterization of the role of queer communities in supporting others without taking on the burden of their identities to try and understand.

TLDR:

Our Dreams at Dusk presents an aspec character dealing with the weight of societal expectations through a disassociation of identity from self. Anonymous exists as both herself and the personification of queer support.

[reputayswift]

what do you think Suburban Legends is about?

I think it’s about having a tumultuous and undefined relationship with someone and putting up with red flags because you want to believe you’re meant to end up together. Basically this quote about Style:

This song is about those relationships that are never really done. You always [have] that one person who you feel might interrupt your wedding and be like, “don’t do, it ‘cause we’re not over yet.” I think everybody has that one person who kind of floats in and out of their life and the narrative is never truly over.

But she’s reimagining this relationship as a high school romance—as she’s wont to do!

Here are a few section-by-section explanations and parallels just for fun:

Note. Sometimes I use “Taylor” to refer to Taylor, the songwriter, and sometimes to Taylor, the narrator of the song. I’m not saying Taylor, the songwriter, experienced all of this literally lol 🫶

you had people who called you on unmarked numbers / in my peripheral vision

She’s noticed that the person she’s with often gets mysterious phone calls when they’re together, the “unmarked” implying he’s hiding the contact names from her because he’s pursuing multiple romances at once. (“I heard that you’ve been out and about with some other girl / he said ‘what you heard is true but I can’t stop thinking about you and I’ / I said I’ve been there too a few times”)

I let it slide like a hose on a slippery plastic summer / all was quickly forgiven

Here she’s combining the phrase “let it slide” (allowing someone to get away with something) with the imagery of a Slip ‘N Slide (a flat, plastic water slide you wet with a hose—usually for children). It was meant to be a playful summer romance with looser expectations, so she ignored the calls and didn’t demand exclusivity. (“August slipped away into a moment in time / ‘cause it was never mine” / “it was just a summer thing” / “no rules in breakable heaven but / o, it’s a cruel summer”)

you were so magnetic it was almost obnoxious / flush with the currency of cool / I was always turning out my empty pockets

Someone who’s “flush with cash” has all the wealth they could ever need. Someone’s who’s “flush with the currency of cool,” then, has endless charm that makes relationships easy to obtain and gives them access to anything they desire. In contrast, Taylor is “turning out [her] empty pockets”; the same charm that drew her in makes her feel insecure and inadequate beside him. A “flush” can also refer to blushing with embarrassment or attraction, further showing the effects of his charisma.

I had the fantasy that maybe our mismatched star signs / would surprise the whole school / when I ended up back at our class reunion / walkin' in with you

This is far from the first time Taylor has used high school as a metaphor for the gossip, pressure, and claustrophobia that comes with the spotlight: (“they whisper in the hallway, ‘she’s a bad, bad girl’” / “honey, life is just a classroom” / “you had it figured out since you’re in school / everybody loves pretty everybody loves cool”). High school classmates may question the compatibility of two people based on social standing (“currency of cool”) or zodiac sign the same way tabloids theorize how and when her relationship might crash and burn from the outside. The high school reunion represents an opportunity to show everyone who’s ever doubted her that they were wrong, that their love was fated and they fell back together in the end.

you'd be more than a chapter in my old diaries / with the pages ripped out

With Taylor’s diaristic writing style, she’s often accused of discarding partners and keeping the songwriting material. Again, this fantasy reunion would allow her to silence these detractors.

I am standin' in a 1950s gymnasium / and I can still see you now

A few possibilities here:

Being, physically, in an old gymnasium reminds her of this fantasy and her dashed hopes for their relationship

Taylor’s fantasy takes place in her high school gym, which was built in the 50s

Taylor’s fantasy takes place in a gymnasium in the 1950s, echoing the James Dean x Good Girl dynamic seen throughout 1989

I didn't come here to make friends / we were born to be suburban legends

Despite “let[ting] it slide,” she actually desires a defined, committed relationship. “Suburban legends” is a play on “urban legends,” which could refer to becoming the talk-of-the-town and/or a renowned power couple out of ordinary circumstances (“you and me, we’d be a big conversation”). However, the veracity of “legends” is often disputed, hinting that whispered rumors may be all that’s left of their love in the end. The use of “suburban” also supports the image of a small-scale high school romance.

when you hold me, it holds me together / and you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever

Their chemistry is so strong she knows she’s doomed to always wonder when and if he’ll reappear.

tick-tock on the clock, I pace down your block / I broke my own heart 'cause you were too polite to do it / waves crash to the shore, I dash to the door / you don't knock anymore and I always knew it / that my life would be ruined

Again, she is placing the relationship in a “world that was one block wide,” where impromptu visits are a short walk away. Time is running out to define the relationship, and Taylor has resigned to call it off altogether knowing he’s content to string her along indefinitely. The past tense “broke” versus the present tense “dash” could indicate she’s already called it off and is visiting despite herself. The fact he no longer “knocks” (approaches her independently) confirms her fears that he’s losing interest and she’ll be left to wonder about and pursue him, alone.

[orientspectra]

Types of Universities in UK for Indian students

You may get confused when you look for universities in the UK for Indian students to study abroad. Mainly because many international students often have difficulty deciding which types of universities in the UK they should look for. To make things a little easier, we’ll run you through the different types of top universities in the UK for masters.

We have already discussed why you study in the UK, and now we will help you finalize your ideal type of UK university that fits best for you. 

There are numerous top, high-ranking, traditional universities in the UK that offer amazing quality of l. It is challenging to select the perfect university among the top universities in the UK. If you are looking to do an MBA in the UK for Indian students then read along and find your dream university.

Ancient Universities in UK

The United Kingdom is home to the most ancient universities in the world. Established between 1096 and 1582, these are among the first standard higher education institutions of the English-speaking world. These universities offer tutorials and lectures that help students to connect with faculty in smaller and separate groups. These UK universities are the University of Oxford and the University of Cambridge, founded in the 12th century. The earliest is the University of Oxford, founded in 109,6, and the latest of the ancient universities is the University of Dublin, founded in 1592. Initially, most of the top universities in the UK for masters taught language and songs. They introduced liberal education that laid the seed for the academic research and development we see today.

Russell Group of Universities

Established in 1994, the Russell Group represents 24 leading studies in UK universities for Indian students that are committed to providing research-led, outstanding learning experiences to all students. Formed in the 1800s, it includes England’s oldest and most prestigious universities. The Russell Group Universities receive two-thirds of all research grant funding from the British government. If you want to study in the UK, then these are the top universities in the UK for a master's as they are popular among international students for their high-quality education, innovative teaching methods, excellent student experience, and world-class research output.

Red Brick Universities

The Red Brick Universities, formally known as Civic Universities, were a group of institutions founded in major British industrial cities during the 19th century to suffice the growing demand for university-level study in subject areas like science, technology, design, and engineering. The most attractive quality of Red Brick Universities in the  UK lies in their location as they are built in the middle of the cities on undefined campuses. These universities focus on science and engineering streams. If you want to do an MBA in the UK for Indian students, then international students can gain an exceptional education from these universities.

Plate-Glass Universities

During the 1960s, the British government commissioned the Robbins report, which declared that there were too few universities in the  UK. This gave way to several new and progressive universities at that time. Founded between 1963- 2 to increase the number of top universities in the UK for masters, Plate Glass universities in the UK took initiatives to update the syllabus, teaching methods, examination, administration, and discipline. These universities shot to fame as Plate Glass universities because of the stunning glass buildings and modern architecture.

Modern Universities

Any university that was established or granted university status after 1992 is a Modern University. These universities are relatively younger than their older, more experienced counterparts, but they are no less in educational quality. With new and innovative teaching methods, they strive to provide top-quality education.

Are you confused about how to choose the right university?

The ideal study in a UK university should have a welcoming community and multicultural environment. It should have an impressive campus with a mix of buildings and workspaces. It should provide an excellent learning experience so that you graduate with a rewarding degree. There are pros and cons to each type of university to study in the UK for Indian students. The choice is yours; the UK has a fantastic mix of different universities, so there’s something for everyone.

Conclusion

You’ll be moving to the other side of the world, so you need to make sure that you choose the right universities in the  UK for Indian students that suit your wants and needs.  Researching on your own can be an exhausting task, and you may feel further confused. You need not worry. Orient Spectra is here to help you. Our experienced education experts can guide you to find the right university for you.

ORIENT SPECTRA: ABROAD EDUCATION SIMPLIFIED.

[solardick]

First draft of card З.

Should include completion. Start or finish. Openess vs. enclosure. Destination. Work. Spring. Winding paths or streams. The Card stands between homeland, connected by english to the world card. Travel, the chariot and the И card as strength. A strong association to number three.being interconnected. Thus also to card number 3, Вv. Still undefined.

Though by tarot is the Empress and by latin overlay the high priestess.

Geographically and historically the card would represent the great European steppes and the forest.

At the same time a dozen russian words starting with letter Зз.

Background card is from lo scarabeo’s the law of attraction deck. Which may also be found in russian print. A modern yet, antique oracle class deck. Mixing modern day tenchology and connections to the olden pre-war era.

In addition to the card, by deduction, may be delegated to number 12. Which by russian Cyrillic overlay is the justice card. By tarot to the hanged man. Or by latin overlay to the hermit.

Number twelve is also curios as it stands as midday, noon hour, also the hanged man card. As completion of the zodiac wheel. As it stands for the combining and merging of both sunset and sunrise to, midday. Only missing the unspoken midnight. Which also stands as the completion of the hourly clock. Though because of the stronger connection it has to labour, and easter, and travel also being found between the chariot and the present card of saint george. The midnight image is left to the dream. Or relegated to the purging of the witch trials, by the american west. Or simply on another hand to the evil’s plaguing the land or the feminine body. As Saint- george rescues the damsel princess from the dragon. And rides off into the sunset as a martyr for not sacrificing his beliefs to the pagan gods. But on the negative note against the feminine and homeland or world are also the evils of industrialism destroying mother earth. In the case of carbon emissions and nuclear waste.

As number 15, by the present card of repeating 3’s. Is the devil card. Though this is the Only other letter card in the deck that may take advantage of this. Having a letter and a number being synonymous by image. As said the devil card by tarot. The open to debate chosen death card Oo. Representing among other things, portents and natural omens with the guise of Waite’s magician card. And russian letter H(n). Which by tarot is the lovers card. It gets rather complicated here. As various images come into play which may be connected to others yet unrelated to the present subject. But, having an H stand in for an N is a matter of conflicting perceptions and habit formed association that puts old a language or cultural barrier. As the russian in this case are seemingly saying No to love and harmony and, subject to prejudice.

To fallow on point is that the association, connection to these following cards and images is considered a lesser arcana addition. To be distinguished from the classical major and minor attributions of tarot. There are no minor arcana as shown in the 4 divisions of elements and numbers one through 14 or one through ten with added face cards. The minor arcana of the “trumps major” are majuscule and minuscule letters. A trump major gives extra power to a word by its majuscule form starting a word or a person’s name. Elevating it, aggrandizing it, in the literal sense and not just in the aphorical sense. This is to say that the difference is a minute detail of lesser importance. Though for russian, there isn’t much difference between a major and minor letter. For they are mostly identical, except for in a few cases.

The minor arcana as are known popular by divination are a completely separate and an unrelated aspect of a tarot deck. None ever held much for imagery. And it was mostly left open to others searching for added weight of the missing elements for use in their purposes. They are an addition to aid in divinatory purposes. But, its pretty clear that the alphabet holds major and minor cases. And the minor arcana is a glorified poker deck. With four extra face cards. This is not to dismiss importance, just to make clear the distinction from the major and minor arcanas of the alphabetical suit.

So current theory for the “trumps” major and minor combined with the goal of unity or world peace. Merging alphabets and what-not, a complication affair. Is in assigning multiple letters. My explanation of this is rather meek. But bare with me. The russian language, more so than english. Has variable letter pronounciations. O sounds like A, D sounds like T. Combining the pictorial definitions of tarot with english(latin) and russian cyrilic. … One of the few exceptions of this in english is the letter C. It is a phonemic equalivant to letter S. indistuishable. This plays to notion of the devil S in the mind C. As the sea and to see can only be contrasted by written form or by spoken contextual form. As goes with the devil wispering motivation to sinful actions. Or to mistaken impressions. Example luCid, Circus, penCil, Civil. While other times making it’s proper K sound. CirKus. Or as C being in the temple of the church. One finds the devil. And now one gleams a power in the letter K being the justice card standing vigil in-front of the courthouses. And not as in Waite’s strength as harmony. Embracing the serpent hidden inside the guise of a lion.

Magic word of the day Zinc.

Wonder who my sociopath is. I bet she’s super hot. She should come to my place and ill show her a good time. Should get me an austrailian girl and make her go down under. Get me both of then and ill introduce them to my butt plugs.

As you can see i started getting positive again. So more sabotage. Cant have that. Got to manipulate and twist the psyche around and fool wveryone. Need to punished. Beaten and tossez around into another neurotic, delinquent or de….. something mess and then punish somemore until suicide becomes the only option. Year after by year. If it continue into my forties. Im not going to

Try and survive anymoee. Not allowed having a life outside being mistreated. Or dominated. Wonder whats thats like. Never rlexperiemced it before. Images of my famuly memeber standing over my body on the ground calling me a pussy or reveling in that fact that tehy are in that position. If im not allowed not being serrounded by violence or degenerate fucken cunts. Well then…. Yup. Spychologicak violence is aoonlow key that you dont notice it until you start lossing your mind. While being puniched for it.

Its like they’re all pretending to be Russians invading ukraine. Annexing what they dont have a right to using military and subversive tactics. Mirroring the image of the cure. While bullshitting the whole time and claimign a war on fake news. Yup. Serving multiple life sentences of satanic bs foe being born. Attacking wveryolatform i have even if its nto a social one. Takign ques from the art of war. Written by a totalitarian communist.

The star card doesn’t equal venus. Its night time. Its a day star. … great what doni wear the whethers all fucked up formt he mentality of this asshole s

Russia and china and the reat if thise counties could wasily take over the rest of the western world. Cant cant. Becaus ethey know the american will use their nukes. More so then they would. Thats why russian keeps threatening to use them. America has done it before.

Noni could i just refuse to be dictated to and subversed by totalitairan nazies pretending to be liberals by perventing it by military jorgon as, “

We’ee not stealing” wemre liberating.

Didnthe russians wver own any slaves? Indont thnk so. Pretty sure they were always at war with the nations of people that did. Like the roman catholics and their descenadant or spin offs.

Its fun being held prisoner like this.

America depends on threats to world destruction for its survival.

[dennisloos01]

Cryptocurrency Investments_ A Golden Opportunity or a Risky Venture_ - Dennis Loos

Cryptocurrencies, a digital or virtual currency that utilizes cryptography for security, have captivated the world with their unique blend of technology and finance. Born out of an ambition to create a decentralized currency that operates independently of traditional banking systems and government oversight, cryptocurrencies present a new paradigm in the financial world.

Delving into the historical context, the arrival of Bitcoin in 2009 marked the genesis of cryptocurrencies. Created by an anonymous person or group of individuals under the pseudonym Satoshi Nakamoto, Bitcoin offered a peer-to-peer electronic cash system that revolutionized our perception of money. This ingenious invention sparked a global trend, leading to the emergence of thousands of other digital currencies, collectively referred to as Altcoins. Today, cryptocurrencies have evolved from an obscure concept to a dynamic market with immense investor potential.

Cryptocurrency investments carry a unique appeal that draws more and more investors toward this digital frontier. A primary allure is the potential for high returns. Cryptocurrencies have shown an extraordinary capacity to grow in value, even over short periods. Bitcoin, for instance, which began at a value of less than a cent during its inception, has seen its price reach thousands of dollars per single coin. This extraordinary growth trajectory is not limited to Bitcoin, as many other cryptocurrencies have also witnessed comparable price escalations, marking crypto investments as a potentially lucrative venture. Dennis Loos

Another significant attraction of cryptocurrencies is the anonymity and decentralization they offer. Unlike traditional banking and online money transfers, cryptocurrency transactions can be conducted with more privacy. This stems from the underlying blockchain technology, which ensures that transaction details are encrypted and that the parties' identities are masked. Moreover, the decentralized nature of cryptocurrencies - free from government control or interference - offers a sense of financial freedom that is appealing to many investors globally.

Finally, investing in cryptocurrencies can contribute to the diversification of an investment portfolio. Financial experts often advocate for diversification as a means of spreading risk. With their unique risk and return profiles, cryptocurrencies can be an effective tool for portfolio diversification. They show little correlation to traditional asset classes such as stocks and bonds, providing investors with a novel means of achieving diversification. However, it is essential to understand that, like any other investment, cryptocurrencies should only make up a fraction of a well-rounded portfolio and not its entirety.

Despite the potential rewards, investing in cryptocurrencies invites risks and challenges that need careful consideration. One of the most glaring risks is price volatility and market unpredictability. Unlike traditional financial markets, the crypto market is notoriously volatile, with the values of cryptocurrencies subject to drastic fluctuations within short periods. This volatility can produce significant gains, but equally, it can lead to substantial losses. Investors, especially those new to the crypto market, must prepare for this unpredictability and ensure their investment strategies can accommodate such fluctuations.

Regulatory issues and legal uncertainties also pose substantial risks. The legal status of cryptocurrencies varies widely from country to country and is still undefined or changing in many of them. This variance can create a more transparent landscape for investors who must remain informed about the legal implications of their investments in different jurisdictions. Furthermore, the evolving nature of these regulations means that decisions made today may be impacted by changes in legal stances in the future.

Finally, security issues revolving around hacks and frauds present another challenge. The anonymity and lack of regulatory oversight in cryptocurrency transactions make them attractive targets for cybercriminals. Notable incidents, such as the Mt.Gox hack, where approximately 740,000 Bitcoins were stolen, serve as stark reminders of the security risks in the crypto arena. Investors must exercise due diligence in securing their digital assets and use trustworthy platforms for their transactions. The allure of investing in cryptocurrencies comes with its share of risks, and understanding these challenges is a crucial first step in navigating the crypto investment landscape. Dennis Loos

Several key differences stand out when comparing cryptocurrency investments with traditional investments, particularly regarding risk and return profile, liquidity, and regulatory and legal protections.

Firstly, cryptocurrency and traditional investments' risk and return profiles vary significantly. Traditional investments, such as stocks and bonds, have long-established, historical data that investors can rely on to make informed decisions. On the other hand, the crypto market is much more unpredictable and volatile, making it challenging to forecast returns accurately.

Another key difference lies in liquidity. Cryptocurrency investments generally operate with lower liquidity than traditional investments due to various factors, such as the limited number of exchanges and trading platforms available for digital currencies. This means that investors may need help to convert their digital assets into cash quickly.

Finally, traditional investments are generally subject to higher regulatory and legal protections than cryptocurrencies. Governments worldwide are beginning to introduce more stringent regulations on cryptocurrency transactions, but these still tend to be much looser than what applies to other financial investments. Investors must keep this in mind when weighing up their options.

As with any investment, having a well-thought-out strategy can significantly mitigate risks associated with investing in cryptocurrencies. Here are a few strategies that investors might consider.

Diversification is crucial with traditional investments, but it's equally important in the crypto market. By spreading investments across various cryptocurrencies, investors can avoid putting all their eggs in one basket. This strategy can reduce potential damages if one cryptocurrency underperforms or crashes. It's about striking a balance—invest in several cryptocurrencies but don't spread your investments too thin.

The crypto market is dynamic and fast-paced. Regular market analysis is vital for staying ahead of trends and changes in the crypto world. Valuable tools for market analysis include crypto price charts, news on crypto developments, and forums where investors and experts discuss market trends. Staying informed about the overall state of the market, emerging cryptocurrencies, and regulatory changes can help investors make knowledgeable decisions.

Before investing, it's crucial to understand what you're investing in. Each cryptocurrency operates on different technology, and understanding these can give investors insights into potential growth and risk factors. For example, knowing how blockchain technology works can provide a deeper understanding of the security features of cryptocurrencies, which can ultimately influence investment decisions.

Investing in cryptocurrencies can be a profitable but risky venture. While the potential for high returns is attractive, it's essential for investors to understand the risks associated and to take precautionary measures to protect their investments. Diversification, regular market analysis, and understanding the underlying technology of cryptocurrencies are all strategies that can help ensure a safer investment journey in the dynamic world of cryptocurrencies. As with any investment, thorough research and informed decision-making are crucial to success.

[parfumerievn]

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[longwindedbore]

Today’s reminder that JUNETEENTH is both a celebration of the last day of the abomination of illegitimately legalized slavery in the US AND a Memorial Day for the 360,000 of the multi-ethnic US military who gave their lives so that slavery would be abolished.

Juneteenth is the ONLY National commemoration of either that Emancipation or that profound Sacrifice.

The deliberate historical belittling of that Emancipation as well as European decesdants’ amnesia of that Sacrifice demonstrates that the rotten cancer of Bigotry still stains our country’s spirit long after the first Juneteenth.

The whitewash of bigotry has acted to suppress the history of bigotry through a pattern of mislabeling and misdirection.

====Supporting Argument====

(OK, more of a rant. But that’s because belief in the lies below form d the bedrock of my ideology as a Conservative. Only because I have an attraction to and memory for odd bits of history did I begin to notice that a lot of lies didn’t make sense at n larger contexts)

—————————

American bigotry was honed in Europe over millennia as succeeding waves of invaders (Franks, Anglos, Saxons, Norse/Normans) from the eastern lands colonized Western Europe ‘clearing the land’ and oppressing & marginalizing the surviving inhabitants.

This pattern was transplanted by European colonizers to other Continents - initially by English, Dutch, French, Spanish, Portuguese, and Danes 1600s to 1800s. Then by the Germans, Belgians, and Italians in the 19th and 20th Centuries.

Consider how you USA history classes largely ignored the history of the 134 years between the First Thanksgiving in 1621 and French and Indian War (No. 3) in 1755.

In that 134 year time period ‘British English-speaking people’ were forged out of Dutch, British, and French colonies through local wars, through spillovers from European wars, by German refugees from the Christian vs Christian (from 2.5 to 8 million estimated dead). The lands of the eastern seaboard ‘cleared’ of Indigenous peoples and legalized forced labor ‘force’ imported from Europe and Africa.

Our history texts and media performances create an false whitewashed of the history we do acknowledge with accurate milestone dates but misdirected explanations. Our cultural History…

‘Celebrates’ the First Thanksgiving when the Puritan invaders are saved from starvation by the Pequot Indians. But ‘forgets’ the slaughter of the Pequot by the Puritans a few years later.

———————-

‘Celebrates’ the Boston Tea Party of 1773 ostensibly by common people rioting because of a beverage tax on a drink favored by the Rich. But ‘have wiped from the records’ the more probable explanation of how the wealthy colonials were terrified because their slave-based economy was threaten when a legal case in 1772 ended slavery in England. The case emancipated all black people INCLUDING those temporarily brought over by visiting colonials (without compensating the colonials for the loss of their property!!!). Also, we ignore the Intolerable Act of preventing colonizing Indigenous lands west of the Appalachians.

———————-

‘Commemorates’ those who died at the Alamo but ‘forgets’ that the TYRANNY threatened by Santa Ana’s Mexican army was the abolition of illegal slavery introduced into the Mexican territory of Texas by white illegal ‘wetbacks’ who crossed the Mississippi.

——————

‘Commemorates’ all the 620,000 Dead of the Civil War as if they died over some undefined principal or matter of regional honor rather than the issue of slavery that is explicitly spelled out in the documents of secession issued by each of the 11 States of the Confederacy.

———————

The 11 States of the former Confederacy still maintain that the Civil War was the ‘War of Northern Aggression’. Of course forgetting that most of the Confederate dead died on battlefields in the Border States. States which the Confederacy tried to capture to expand slavery. No battles were fought in the South until Sherman’s March to the Sea a few months before war ended.

(Yea, yea, Fort Sumpter, 1861. However, Major Anderson had already informed the Confederacy of his intention to honorably abandon the fort and March north. The Confederacy attacked because their leadership wanted a surrender.)

—————————-

The 11 States of the former Confederacy still maintain that they were impoverished by the Damn Yankees. IGNORING that slave owners were compensated for the loss of their property. Look for other causes for 150 years of poverty - in red counties but not in blue.

——————————

Our Cultural mindset continues to ignore the armed resistance in the 11 States and Border States to the Secession and the Confederacy’s military draft.

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

Inspired to ‘Die for the Lie’.

Many of those who volunteered and sacrificed for the Confederate cause were undoubtedly motivated by ideals separate from maintaining slavery.

So many so that, perhaps, the Confederacy might not have survived any length of time without Fort Sumter as it’s “Remember the Main” or “Zimmerman Telegram” or “Gulf of Tonkin Incident”.

Lies and Exaggerations used to incited other generations to unite for mass slaughter.

[raibebe]

Love shot

Genre: Tooth rotting fluff Words: 8.590 Prompt: Hockey Player Jeno feat. best friend Jaemin, love letters? Warnings: none..?

A/N: This was written for @woahhwa​ for the @kafenetwork​ kafeholidays event! Hi Ru! I had so much fun talking to you when tumblr wasn’t eating my asks! I hope you liked this and it incorporates some of the things you said you liked. Also. Warning: I know absolutely nothing about hockey so please bear with me :] As always thank you to @burtonized​ for always listening to my rambles and telling me that my writing doesn’t suck. Also literally no one asked for me to put Johnny into this but I am a simple woman and miss him and his gorgeous hair. I am sorry for this horrible title...

The red numbers on the clock over the rink slowly counted down, the last minute of the game beginning. You had your hands tightly clutched together, sitting on the edge of the seat as you watched your home team in the orange and blue tricots trying to defend the last push of the opposing team. Mark Lee - on the defense - body checked the opposing wing player, who had been pushing forward, hardly into the banister, causing him to lose the puck. Quick on his feet like always, Ten snatched it from him and took a sharp turn to avoid the second wing player, using his smaller size to his advantage so he could push forward into the last third before the huge defender of the opposing team tackled him harshly. But like the genius player he was, Donghyuck had anticipated it, screaming Ten’s name at the top of his lungs so the elder had the time to pass the puck on to his wingplayer. Using his momentum from following Ten, Donghyuk pulled both of the opposing defenders towards him, leaving the star player of the team - Lee Jeno - free right in front of the goalie. A huge mistake. With a mischievous grin on his lips, Donghyuck waited until the very last second to pass the puck straight to Jeno who didn’t hesitate even for a second to take his shot: Hitting the puck with all his strength, he sent the rubber flying right past the goalie’s body, slamming into the net of the goal.

The crowd around you erupted in loud screams and cheers, everyone jumping up from their seats and celebrating the last minute goal as the red timer on the scoreboard ticked down to zero, the loud noise of a horn mixing with the cheers of the students. In the middle of all of this you were hugging your best friend, screaming loudly before turning back to look into the rink where the other boys had buried Lee Jeno beneath them, hockey sticks scattered around them. The other team had already angrily left the rink, collecting their stuff to make their way to the locker rooms when the boys finally let off and let their MVP breathe. Grinning broadly they took their helmets off one by one, shaking out their matted hair and just like after every game, the sight of Jeno’s midnight blue messy hair took your breath away. Once you could muster up the courage to talk to him, you wanted to ask if he had dyed it to match the color of their blue and orange jerseys. But even though you went to every single one of their home games and sometimes even went down to the rink to congratulate them, you had yet to speak more than three words with their handsome center forward player with the 23 on his back.

“Let’s go down to congratulate them, this was insane,” Jaemin said before already pulling you down the stairs against the tide of people that were already leaving. A couple of the player’s friends had already gathered at the rink, cheering them on and clapping them on their padded shoulders. You could make out the University’s heartthrob Johnny Suh - a volleyball player himself - fondly petting his best friend’s head which made Ten smile brighter than the harsh lights that illuminated the ice. A group of other boys from your year that you knew from a couple of your courses had rounded Donghyuck and Mark and looked like they were currently mocking the elder for his misplay that had led to the early goal of the opposing team, leaving their goalkeeper Yangyang almost no time to react. With a loud thud Jeno joined the circle, clinging to Mark’s back who cried out in pain from how hard the impact had been. The newest addition to the team, a tall freshman with the number 27 on his back, awkwardly shuffled on the ice before the team captain - Sicheng - pulled him over to where they were celebrating.

“Yooooo, boys this was sick!” Jaemin called out when he jumped down the last couple of steps before joining his friends who had stopped mocking Mark for a little while. But that wouldn’t be for long and you knew it. You had been their fan for quite some time now and knew that Donghyuck would not let Mark live and would bother him about it for a long time. “Watch your back, stupid,” you mumbled after your best friend who had been part of the team last year but had to quit playing for an undefined amount of time due to some issues with his back. He was the one who had originally gotten you into this sport which had led to your crush on Lee Jeno. So basically Na Jaemin was the reason you had the worst everlasting crush on a boy you barely knew and were way too shy to talk to even if he shared a ridiculous number of classes with you this year. But to Lee Jeno you must just be Jaemin’s weird friend he still knew from his childhood.

Slowly you approached the circle of boys, trying to hide as much of your face as possible in the bright orange scarf you had wrapped around your neck to shield yourself from the cold of the stadium. Jaemin was already retelling the highlights of the game in rapid-fire double time rapping speed, gesturing broadly and making the players laugh. “If you were to commentate the games they would probably be twice as fun to watch,” you spoke your mind when your best friend had to take a deep breath, making all of them stare at you which promptly lead to blood to rush to your face. “Yoooo, that would be such a good idea,” Mark broke the silence, his eyes wide, “Since you know all the rules and stuff.” “Also I wouldn’t be biased at all,” Jaemin just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he can’t just trash talk the other team during the whole game,” Sicheng threw in. “But it would be fun,” Yangyang mused. He had finally managed to get all of his extra protective gear off, his dark hair hanging into his eyes. “You should try it, Jaem,” Jeno also agreed. “I’d rather join you on the ice, you know,” your best friend mumbled, shooting the rink a longing gaze. “You’ll be back with us in no time once your back is healed,” Sicheng smiled, patting him on the shoulder with his still gloved hand, “Just give me a call and I’ll unlock the rink for you to make a couple of rounds.” “What am I, a short track athlete?” Jaemin grumbled but nodded his head anyways. He had been an amazing sprinter until he had exchanged the goggles and tight suits for heavy padding and a stick some time in high school.

“What’s this gloomy atmosphere? We won guys!” Ten shouted over from where he had been talking to Johnny and some other upperclassman, “Let’s get out of these uniforms and have some food to celebrate, Sicheng is paying.” “I am what?” The team captain protested but his complaints were lost in the cheers of the younger members of the team who quickly scrambled to get to the lockers to shower and change, their stomachs always bottomless holes after an intense game. “Let’s go home then,” Jaemin suggested, raking a hand through his caramel hair. You could tell he was still sad about not being able to be with his boys but he made an effort to hide his inner struggle. “Jaem!” A voice called you back when you turned to climb up the stairs and Lee Jeno skidded effortlessly over the ice to roughly collide with the side of the rink again. “You know you can join us, right?” A smile spread over your friend’s lips but he shook his head. “I can’t leave this one all to herself.” “The more the merrier,” Jeno just answered, looking you straight in the eye which lead to your heart missing a beat or two. He was covered in sweat and his hair was matted to his head, he should not have looked this attractive to you with his stupid half-moon eye smile and mole beneath his right eye. “I- I don’t want to mess up your all-boys time,” you tried to politely decline, scolding yourself for stuttering like this. You did not need to make an even bigger fool out of yourself. “It’s fine, really. Mark’s girlfriend is probably going to join us as well,” Jeno reassured you, “I’ll see you two outside!” He quickly added before crossing the rink again to disappear into the lockers, not leaving you two any more chance to decline.

“We’re not going to say no to a free meal, are we?” Jaemin grinned. “Wipe that grin off your face Nana,” you grumbled, scolding yourself for going for comfortable and warm clothes instead of pretty ones. What would Jeno think of you in your oversized blue hoodie and orange scarf? “Stop stressing, I can hear you thinking,” your friend whined, pulling you out of the by now empty stadium. “I look like a potato.” “No you don’t. You look fine. Jeno is not into the whole dolled up thing anyways.”  Slapping his arm hard, you looked around if any of the players had already changed and overheard his comment. “You better keep your mouth shut, Na Jaemin or may god have mercy over you,” you hissed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he innocently blinked his eyes at you. “Na Jaemin, I swear to god. If you make me look like a fool in front of my crush that I should have never admitted to you, I WILL make you regret it.” “You don’t need me to make a fool out of yourself,” your best friend laughed, just barely dodging the punches you threw at him.

“Please be nice,” you whispered when the boys came out from the locker after a couple of minutes, their hair still damp from the shower they must have taken, their bags slung over their shoulders. Pictures of what a certain forward player must look like beneath his heavy padding and jersey flooded your mind for a second and you had to fight the heat that threatened to creep up on your cheeks. Mark’s girlfriend who had arrived a couple of minutes earlier and who you two had already told about the game, raced to fling herself into her boyfriend’s arms, giggling loudly when he almost toppled over from being thrown off balance. Somehow that image tugged at your heart and you wished that one day when you were finally not too shy to talk to Jeno, this could be the two of you.

Dinner was filled with a lot of loud laughter and just mildly annoyed waiters at the restaurant that had the best hot pot in town or so Sicheng claimed. But you really couldn’t even blame the poor waitress that had to deal with the hyped up hockey players. You mostly kept quiet, listening to their bickering and their stories. Donghyuck only retold how Mark had messed up in today’s game about three more times until he earned himself a rather hard slap to the back of his head from both Mark and Jeno. During the whole time you tried to steal secret glances at the forward player, admiring how fluffy his hair got after it had dried and how his glasses would fog up from the heat of the food until he took them off with an adorable but also really annoyed huff, stuffing them into the pocket of his neon green hoodie that should have looked ridiculous but he could pull it off. At this point you thought that he would look good in a plastic bag. God you really had it bad for him.

“Alright children, it’s bed time,” Ten exclaimed after everyone’s bellies were full, clapping his hands, “We should leave quickly so Sicheng can pay for the meal.” The team captain just sighed and leaned back in his seat while the others quickly shuffled around to sort out their bags and their jackets to hurry out of the restaurant, muttering words of thanks to Sicheng. You felt bad for him and lingered behind for a little before pressing a note into his hands that he declined with a little smile. “It’s fine,” he shook his head, handing the money back, “One mouth more or less doesn’t matter.” “Thank you for the meal, Sicheng,” you smiled. “Thank you for your support, you’re at every of our games, aren’t you?” Flustered you followed him to the register where a woman took his card to pay for the meal. “I try to make it. Jaemin doesn’t like going alone when he’s not allowed to play and I really enjoy watching you guys play. Your freshman really did so well.” “Sungchan is really talented,” Sicheng nodded, “He is such a great assent to the team and he compliments Jeno well. He’ll give Jaemin a run for his money when he comes back.” Smiling, you nodded. “I hope he’ll recover fast, he really misses you guys.” Taking his card back, Sicheng grimaced at the receipt. “We all miss him.”

Stepping outside in the cold, you were glad you had brought your thick jacket, your breath came out in little white clouds and Jaemin’s nose was already red. “I thought you’d never come back out, I am freezing over here,” he complained. Rolling your eyes at your roommate, you quickly said goodbye to Sicheng who once again told Jaemin to give him a call if he wanted to use the rink to skate for a while. On the way over to your apartment a little off of campus, you both kept quiet, each lost in your own thoughts. Even through your thick layers of clothing, the cold began seeping into your bones and you buried your hands deep into the pockets of your jacket. But instead of the soft material of the inside of the pockets, your right hand came into contact with a neatly folded piece of paper. Confused you pulled it from your jacket and unfolded it. You didn’t remember stuffing that in there. In neat handwriting, a single sentence was written:

You look so pretty in blue.

What? You were so perplexed, you halted in your steps, staring at the piece of paper as if it would tell you what in the world was going on or how it had ended up in your pocket. Had one of the boys snuck the note into you jacket when they all had left before you and Sicheng? But why would any of them do that? What if... What if it had been Jeno? No, that couldn’t be. He was way out of your league and most definitely confident enough to tell you in person if he liked the honestly very much not special or pretty blue hoodie. “Hello? Earth to best friend?” Jaemin’s voice ripped you from your thoughts. He was standing a couple of steps in front of you, a questioning look on his features. “Did you just remember you left the stove on or something?” “N... No,” you muttered, shaking your head before shoving the note back into your pocket, catching up to Jaemin.

What you didn’t know was that would not be the last weird note you would find. The next one didn’t take long. You found it stuffed in your bag between your books on your second class of the day. Trying to not catch your friend’s attention so you wouldn’t have to explain the note, you carefully and secretly unfolded it to read the neatly written sentence.

You look great today, have a great start into the new week! Fighting!

Not unlike last time, you wondered who could have dropped the note into your bag. And when? Looking around the class you were currently in, your eyes caught on Lee Jeno’s midnight blue hair just a couple of seats in front of you. Had he been in your previous class as well? You couldn’t remember. But even if he had been, it was just wishful thinking that he had been the one to write the note. It was most likely a cruel joke someone was playing on you. Sighing you crumbled the piece of paper and focused back to what your professor was saying, trying to concentrate on taking notes instead of daydreaming while staring holes into Lee Jeno’s head like you had done way too often in this class. You weren’t very successful and when Jeno answered a question the professor had thrown at the class flawlessly, earning himself a couple of back pats from his friends that were seated around him, you couldn’t help but sigh. God, why did he have to be both smart and incredibly handsome? And on top of that a very talented hockey player.

A slap from your friend to your shoulder brought you back from your daydream to find the professor staring at you intensely. Shit. What had he asked? “Alright miss, I’d like a word with you after class. Now who can answer my question instead?” He spoke and you just wanted to ground to swallow you whole.

For the rest of the class you were just imagining all the worst case scenarios in your head of what the strict professor would scold you about. Would he make you do extra work for the class? Give you a bad grade all together? Or just humiliate you further? “Alright class, that will be it for today, you’re dismissed. Don’t forget to do the reading for next week and hand in your assignments on time,” the professor dismissed the class, immediately finding your eyes to nod his head sharply to indicate he hadn’t forget about you zoning out.

Discouraged after the scolding you had gotten from your professor about dozing off in his classes, you climbed the stairs to your seat to pack your stuff to go hide in your room until everyone would have forgotten how embarrassing the whole situation had been, especially Lee Jeno and his friends. But yet again another note was placed right on top of your notebook, seemingly written in a haste and carelessly ripped out of its original page.

Don’t take it to heart, it could have happened to anyone. Cheer up!

Okay maybe the someone who was writing you these notes actually wasn’t playing jokes on you and actually cared about you. You’d be lying if the few words hadn’t made you feel any better.

Over the next few weeks you found more and more notes. Some longer than others, some just a few hastily written words. Some were just a quick cheer up to help you get through a long day of class, some compliments about your outfit or your hair and some even little stories about the day of your admirer. Somehow you felt like you got to know him a little through his little messages. You even dared to say you looked forward to finding more and more notes.

One time your secret admirer even left you a coffee on your table at the library when you had gotten up from your seat to get more books to look up some information for the essay you were trying to finish. When you got back to your seat, you looked around quickly to see if the admirer was still around. But you only saw more students perched over books or their laptops, typing away. Just when you were about to get back to your own project, a white hoodie caught your eye between the dull lighting and brown colors of the library. Below a mop of blue hair, Lee Jeno shortly smiled at you from behind his glasses, toasting towards you with his own cup of coffee and you couldn’t help but notice that it was from the same shop the steaming cup in front of you was from. Picking it up, you toasted back and took a small sip to not completely burn your tongue before examining the cup which just said your name with a little heart on it. It could have been just a coincidence that Jeno chose to get coffee from the same place your admirer had. The shop was just a few meters from the library after all but the way Jeno had smiled at you, not his usual bright smile but something maybe a little more shy, made you believe it could actually have been him and you really hoped that he actually was.

But today you hadn’t found a single note from your admirer and for some reason that was really bothering you. He had managed to sneak you at least a little note every day for a while now. And you still hadn’t figured out how he did it. Or when. You didn’t leave your bag or jackets unattended for long periods of time and it seriously baffled by how sneaky he must be.

“Stop staring holes into the air and get back to work,” your coworker Yuta scolded you, clapping a hand on your back on his way past you. “I’m sorry, I was lost in my head,” you apologized but he just shrugged his shoulders as he collected the mugs a group of students had left behind. “Exams?” He asked as he came back, putting the mugs into the sink. “Something like that,” you lied. You really didn’t know the upperclassman well enough to vent to him about how someone you didn’t even knew who they were send you secret messages and somehow they hadn’t done it today yet. Before Yuta could ask any further questions, the bell on the door jingled happily, announcing the arrival of a new set of customers. “I’ll go, bring those to the back,” your coworker instructed you. Sighing, you bunched up your sleeves to stack up all the dishes that had been piling up in the front during the time Yuta and you had been too busy with orders to put them in the big dishwasher in the kitchen.

With a couple of freshly washed cups and plates you emerged back into the main room to see Yuta flirting with the group of girls that had just come in to probably order some way too overpriced season special with more sugar than actual coffee in it. Of course only after they had been completely charmed by the objectively speaking very pretty foreigner with a silver tongue. Rolling your eyes at the group, you instead made your way to where the customers were sitting to check if anyone new had come in while you were in the back. After most classes were over for the day, the cozy café usually filled up with students pretty fast; either to relax for a little before going to the library or to discuss group projects.

Today was no different and you easily spotted a group of boys from one of your courses squished together in one of the booths, your best friend smiling brightly at you when he saw you approach. “My favorite waitress is working,” he spoke, awkwardly hugging your waist from his sitting position. “You just want my employee discount,” you fondly rolled your eyes at a now pouting Jaemin, “So what can I get you.” You quickly collected all the boy’s orders including Jaemin’s horrendous deathpresso. “Oh, add another iced Americano, someone is still missing,” Donghyuck called after you when you had confirmed their orders, a knowing smirk on his lips. Quickly scribbling another one on your little notepad, you didn’t look where you were going and suddenly collided with a very solid chest and you were pretty sure you would have fallen if it was not for the customer’s quick reflexes. So instead of on the floor, you found yourself pressed against his chest, his perfume clouding your senses. “Careful where you’re going,” he said and you could already tell that your eyes would meet ones with the color of molten amber, hidden behind a cute pair of round glasses, before you even looked up to see Lee Jeno’s smile. “You... You too,” you stuttered, feeling your face heat up, quickly scrambling back a step. “Are you alright?” He asked, looking you up and down once. “Yeah, I was just taking your orders, I’ll be right back,” you tried to smile while trying to tell your heart to stop beating like you had just ran a marathon. “I’ll help you carry, we’re quite a few people.” “No, it’s fine really,” you quickly declined, “This is my job after all. “I feel bad for running into you though, let me help,” Jeno insisted, a slight pout on his lips that you really could not resist. When you ended up nodding, his whole face lit up with his famous eye smile and your insides might have just melted a little. While he was quickly putting his bag down and greeting his friends, you busied yourself with the orders. Yuta was still no help whatsoever, telling one of the girls an obnoxious story of how he had ended up at a university in Korea. You barely held back your laugh when the girls gasped, their eyes glued to Yuta. The story might have been impressive to you if you hadn’t heard it about 30 times already, always a little different but always pretty far from the actual truth.

“I didn’t know you worked here,” Jeno ripped your attention from your coworker when he leaned against the counter to watch you work the big coffee machine. “I was working in a different shop a little off campus before,” you smiled, focusing on pouring the milk into one of the cups of coffee to form a pretty picture. “You’re really good at making them look pretty,” Jeno complimented you, his cheeks tinted a rosy color. “It’s just practice,” you mumbled, hiding your own shyness behind the counter to quickly grab the cake slices the boys had ordered. An awkward silence hung over the two of you while you worked on finishing the other drink orders (it always took a ridiculous amount of time to make Jaemin’s) and your brain ran on overdrive trying to come up with a topic to talk to Jeno to fill up the silence while willing your hands to not shake and make a fool out of yourself in front of him.

“Do... Do you work between classes?” You chose to ask in the end, scolding yourself immediately for asking what must be the most lame, basic question ever. “I hardly have time between classes and practice,” Jeno explained nonetheless, scrunching his nose adorably to push up his glasses,” I’m here on a scholarship so I have to show results in hockey or I’ll be out.” “Ooh, I didn’t know that. But you’re really good so it shouldn’t be a surprise,” you spoke your mind before you could think about the words but as soon as it registered, your face immediately was heating up. Jeno just laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his head. “I’m not bad I guess. It’s just a lot of practice, it’s nothing special,” he mirrored the words you had said earlier, an easy smile on his lips. “Even I can see you have an unfair amount of talent for hockey, Jeno.” At that he barked out a short laugh. “You should have seen me when I stood on the ice for the first time, I couldn’t even skate in a straight line without falling on my ass, no idea what the scouts saw in me when they talked to my mum to recruit me.” “I bet you’re just being modest,” you argued. “I am not I swear,” he laughed, “I was really bad but I trained a lot so I could make the team. I’m not like Donghyuck who can just skip half of practice because he’s hungover. I have to work for it.” “That makes it even more admirable,” you mumbled, not able to look him in the eye when you spoke the words even though you meant them with all your heart. “Th- Thank you,” Jeno stuttered and when you looked up at his face again, you could see that his ears were bright red. “I mean it,” you smiled and when he finally met your eyes you couldn’t help but get lost in his for a while.

“And you tell me to stop flirting with customers,” Yuta broke whatever moment you just had with Jeno and shoved you from the spot on the coffee machine. “I wasn’t,” you tried to argue but your colleague just clocked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “I... I wouldn’t mind if you were,” Jeno mumbled so quietly you had almost missed it, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach and a smile to creep onto your lips again. “We should bring the drinks over,” you smiled, grabbing the tray that held the drinks so Jeno could take the one with the cakes. “Ye... Yeah, orders, drinks, sure,” he stuttered, grabbing the second tray and following you through the café back over to where his friends were seated. “I thought you would never come back,” Jaemin already whined, grabbing his deathpresso off of your tray. “It takes a while to make eight freaking extra shots of espresso,” you scolded your best friend while giving out the rest of the orders to the other boys who all agreed, joining in on telling Jaemin how unhealthy his coffee drinking habits were. “Let me know if you need anything else,” you smiled politely when everyone had gotten their respective drinks, leaving the boys to banter playfully.

Over the course of your shift, the boys stayed to study and ordered another round of hot drinks before they left just shy of the ending of your shift. Jeno threw you another shy smile and a little sweater pawed wave when they left the shop that almost send you into cardiac arrest. “I’ll clean that table and then head out,” you announced to Yuta who was glued to his phone, checking his twitter feed. Among the chaos of used napkins and dishes, you found a neatly folded piece of paper with your name neatly written on it, a little heart drawn in the corner that set you own one racing again. You quickly put it in your pocket and cleared the rest of the table, all but throwing the dishes into the dishwasher at the back so you could get out of your apron and take a look at the note your secret admirer had left. While you were changing into your warm jacket, you couldn’t help but to think and to hope that Jeno had left it for you. After all he had been at both the gatherings that had led to you finding these notes and he also shared lot of classes with you where he could technically have slipped you a note or two. And on top of that he had also been at the library when the coffee incident happened.

Once you stepped out of the café and into the cool air of the early evening, you sat down on one of the benches surrounding the building to read the little note in peace.

You look so cute when you’re concentrating on making pretty latte art, did you know that? I loved the little talk we had but I am too shy to talk to you. Can you tell by these notes? My friends all make fun of me for writing cheesy notes instead of manning up to actually talk to you. I don’t even know if you would want to meet me. But if you want to, then meet me at the ice rink tomorrow at 7pm. I’ll be waiting for you there, I promise.

You couldn’t hold in the little shriek of joy that made its way past your lips. It had to be Jeno. It couldn’t be anyone else. It had to be him. Holding the little note close to your furiously beating heart, you smiled and kicked your legs in joy before storing it carefully into your bag. Jaemin better be ready to help you choose an outfit for tomorrow and listen to you whine without asking too many questions about who you were actually going to meet.

When you arrived at the stadium the next day, clutching the note tightly in your hand, you double checked the time and carefully looked around before you tried to open the front door which to your surprise was actually unlocked. Taking a deep breath, you went in, closing the door firmly behind you before walking up to the second door that would take you to the bleachers. Slowly you pulled it open as well, hoping it wouldn’t make too much noise. The rink itself was just dimly lit, most of the lights turned off and on the ice there was a single figure skating around the perimeter, seemingly lost in their thoughts while aimlessly taking sharp turns that send pieces of ice flying, making the skids screech. You would have recognized that person between hundreds of other skaters, the midnight blue hair easily giving him away.

Jeno seemingly hadn’t noticed you yet and it gave you time to sort out your racing heart and thoughts. Had it really been him to write you all the sweet notes that you had begun to collect in a little box you hid from Jaemin in a box beneath your bed? Or was the universe playing a prank on you and it was just a coincidence that he was practicing right now, alone at night. But then again no one else was around and he really wasn’t dressed for practice, just wearing one of his big hoodies and jeans. It had to be his notes. And thinking back on it, he really had been the only person who had been at the same places, the notes had been showing up. From the dinner with the hockey team to the ones in your classes and at your work or in the library.

Slowly you made your way down the steps of the bleachers, keeping quiet so you wouldn’t disturb Jeno who was still skating around the rink. Once you arrived at the bottom row of seats, you took a seat next to a pair of skates and a pair of sneakers that probably belonged to Jeno. Sitting in silence, you watched his movements for a while. He was captivating to watch: Seeing him effortlessly glide over the ice before suddenly sprinting forward only to come to an abrupt halt or take a sharp turn. It was beyond you how he held his balance through it all.

Suddenly he halted in his moves completely to stare at the big clock on the back wall of the stadium that showed that it was fifteen minutes past seven already before he sighed deeply, raking a hand through his fluffy hair. Was he nervous? Nervous you wouldn’t come? Just when he was taking off, his eyes caught your figure and he stopped again, a big smile spreading across his face that made his eyes curl into the beautiful half-moon shape you adored. While you were busy trying to remember how to breathe, he was skating towards you, effortlessly jumping from the ice through a little door in the rink, walking towards you. “You came,” he beamed, kneeling down in front of you after he had grabbed the skates that were still lying next to you. “Yeah I did,” you answered, still not entirely sure what to make of this situation. With how fast your heart was beating, it must have climbed all the way up to your throat and you weren’t sure if you could have produced a proper sentence if you wanted to.

“I hope I didn’t misinterpret all of this,” Jeno mumbled while he carefully undid your shoelaces before slipping them off your feet, “And you’re just here to tell me to stop being creepy and not leave any more notes around.” The way he looked up at you from beneath his midnight blue bangs tugged at your heart and you couldn’t find any words to tell him just how okay you were with this, so you just nodded, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, the skin feeling way too hot against the cold of the stadium. Smiling brightly Jeno quickly prepared the skates to slip onto your feet and laced them up tightly, his nimble fingers working fast and efficient. “Is this alright? Not too tight?” “Seems fine,” you smiled back at him, experimentally wiggling your toes. “Alright,” Jeno smiled, extending a hand to you. “Come on, let’s go.”

Shyly, you took his hand to let him pull you upright. On wobbly feet, you followed him to the little door in the rink, letting him step onto the ice first. “I’ve never done this before,” you confessed, almost reflexive reaching your gloved hands out towards him which he took with a gentle smile, squeezing them reassuringly. “I won’t let you fall,” he promised, tightening the grip on your hands. “Okay,” you whispered, carefully stepping onto the slippery ice, unsure how to work with the skates. “You’re a natural,” Jeno beamed when you finally stood with both feet on the ice. “I- I don’t know,” you shied away from the praise, wishing you could hide in your big scarf. “Hold on tightly now,” the hockey player warned before he skillfully moved his legs so he was sliding backwards, effectively pulling you with him. A little surprised sound escaped your lips and you clutched his hands tightly, worrying your gaze to your feet where you tried to stabilize yourself and keeping the skids up right.

“Don’t think so much about it. Look at me,” Jeno’s voice cut through the soft scratching noises of the skates. “I’ll fall if I do,” you argued. Also your heart would most likely leap out of your chest if you did. As if it wasn’t already beating furiously enough now that you were basically on a date with your crush and he was holding your hands. “I told you that I won’t let you fall,” he promised, slowing down his own movements until you came to a halt. Steadying yourself on the skates, you took a deep breath before looking up to meet Jeno’s eyes. And just like that time stood still. Under the dimmed lights in the stadium, it felt like you two were the only people on this planet. You got lost in the deep brown shade of his eyes and adored how his nose and cheeks were tinted a pretty blush color from the cold. “Hey there,” he whispered, tucking your scarf neatly around your neck where it had come undone, the gesture so intimate, it made your breath hitch. “Hi,” you answered dumbly and it made him smile, his eyes curving into the beautiful half-moon eye smile.

Before you could do anything stupid like coo hat how pretty he looked, his smile turned into a mischievous grin and he quickly let go of your hands to skid backwards a couple of meters further towards the center of the rink. “Jenoooo,” you whined once you had found your balance again, glaring to where he was making a couple of sharp turns, creating indents in the smooth ice and sending pieces flying. “Come over,” he called, opening his arms wide. “You just want to see me fall.” “You won’t, have some faith in yourself. Just kick with your skates until you gain momentum. It’s like walking just with a little more glide.” “Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?” “Just try it. For me,” Jeno smiled, sliding a little closer to you and opening his arms again. Sighing, you nodded, balling your hands into fists before you kicked your feet just how you had seen Jeno and the other’s do a hundred times before. Albeit very wobbly and slow, you were sliding over the ice. A smile slowly spread over your face as you kicked your feet again and again and you weren’t even mad when you noticed that Jeno steadily moved backwards to keep you going. “See, you’re a natural,” he beamed but just when he said that, you stumbled over one of the indents he had created earlier when he was showing off. You already prepared yourself to meet the cold unforgiving ice, making a complete fool out of yourself but instead two strong arms curled around you to pull you against a strong chest so you were stabilized again.

“I told you, I wouldn’t let you fall,” Jeno whispered, his hands steady on your waist. “Thank you,” you mumbled, slowly snaking your arms around him as well until your bodies were flush together. For a while you just stood on the ice, hugging each other until your breaths evened out, hearts beating in the same rhythm. “I’m so glad you actually came.” “Why wouldn’t I?” You mumbled into his neck. “Maybe you thought all my notes were creepy.” “I was really confused at first,” you admitted, “I thought it was a joke. I couldn’t think of a reason why anyone would write these to me. I was waiting for someone to bring up the topic so they could make fun of me. But deep down I really wished it was you who was writing them and that you actually meant everything you wrote.” The longer you spoke, the more you felt your face heat up. “I wish I had more courage to actually ask you out properly,” Jeno confessed, his voice quiet, “I kept seeing you around Jaemin and then you started to come to our matches. And then we ended up in so many of the same courses and guess what you’re not only very pretty but also incredibly smart. And I guess I kind of developed this huge crush on you with your big scarves and hoodies.”   “Me... Me too, Jeno,” you whispered, your heart making summersaults in your chest and a smile spreading on your lips. Beneath your fingers you could feel Jeno chuckle. “Will you let me kiss you?” He asked softly and who were you to deny him?

Slowly you lifted your head from his shoulder and he carefully cupped your face before he leaned in to kiss you until your noses were touching. His bangs were tickling your face but you wouldn’t have wanted to have it any other way and crossed the last few centimeters between you to press your lips against his slightly chapped ones. Like you had all time in the world you just stood on the ice, lazily moving your lips together only ever separating to heave in a couple of breathes of air and share a soft giggle before claiming each other’s lips again with hearts beating like one.

Eventually Jeno pulled back when you leaned in to kiss him again, a big smile on his lips when you pouted. “You’ll get another one when you manage to skate a whole round in the rink,” he grinned, his eyes sparkling. “You’re the worst Lee Jeno,” you kept pouting, “You’re hurting yourself just as much as me.” “Come on, it’s going to be fun,” he smiled, snaking free from your grip to skate around you in quick motions. “Show off,” you mumbled underneath your breath but tried your best to copy his movements to fulfill his quest.

In the end he had been right, once you got the hang of it and didn’t lose your balance every time there was a dent in the ice, it actually as fun to chase each other around the rink even though you knew he was purposefully letting you catch up to him at times to steal more kisses. It still somehow didn’t feel real that you actually were here with Lee Jeno and that you were actually allowed to kiss him just like this. After what felt like hours, Jeno helped you out of your skates and you just sat on the bleachers cuddled up together beneath a blanket, looking down at the rink. “Are you going to see the match tomorrow?” He asked. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?” Jeno just hummed, a blush creeping up his cheeks and ears, this one definitely not from the cold. What was making him shy all of a sudden? “Would you... I mean... If you wanted to... Would you,” he stuttered before he groaned loudly and grabbed your hands tightly, “Willyouwearmyjackettothegame?” “What?” “My jacket... Would you wear it tomorrow?” He asked again, slower this time but still not meeting your eyes, instead looking at your interlocked hands. “Do you want me to?” You asked him back, a big smile on your lips. “I mean... I understand if this is a little fast but... But I’ve had this crush on you for the longest time and... And I would really like to show everyone that you’re you know...” “That I’m your girlfriend?” “Y... Yeah,” he admitted, shyly looking at you from beneath his midnight blue bangs. “Of course I will,” you smiled broadly, throwing your arms around him to hug him close.

And you did. After you and Jeno had talked for a little while longer about everything and nothing at all (and maybe some more kissing) until you had yawned more than he found acceptable, he had quickly run to the locker rooms to fetch his jacket that he had promptly laid over your shoulders on your way home. In front of your apartment building he had kissed you goodbye and wished you sweet dreams before he walked away to his own dorm room that he shared with Donghyuck so you had found out. You turned the key as silently as you could so you wouldn’t wake up your best friend who was out cold on the small sofa in your living room, the Netflix ‘Are you still watching?’ screen illuminating the room. Shaking your head, you draped a blanket over the sleeping boy and turned the TV off before getting ready for bed as well. The next morning you had to explain why you had Jeno’s jacket to a screaming Jaemin at an ungodly hour but in the end he was just excited as you were if not more because he didn’t have to hear both of you pining anymore because he had promised Jeno not to meddle.

You slipped into Jeno’s big jacket when you and your friend where about to leave so you wouldn’t be late to the match, you couldn’t help but smile, snuggling deep into the collar until your boyfriend’s smell engulfed you like a blanket. “Stop being gross or the best seats will be taken,” your best friend complained, tugging you with him and filling the way over to the stadium with chatter. “There are so many people,” you exclaimed when you had entered the stadium, looking around for free seats. “It’s the highlight of the season, what did you expect?” Jaemin asked, tugging you further down when he spotted Mark’s girlfriend waving excitedly at your two. She also was wearing a jacket with the name ‘Lee’ on the back just that hers had a big blue 2 on the back and not a 23 like yours. “You and Jeno?” She excitedly jumped up and down when she had spotted your jacket and you could only nod shyly. “I’m so happy for you. Mark told me how Jeno kept pining after you.”

“What’s with all the Lees over here?” A male voice cut in before you could answer anything and Johnny Suh sat down next to Jaemin, not clad in his usual dark red jacket with his name and the 9 on the back but in a rather small orange one with a giant blue 10 on the back. “You’ll fit right in,” Mark’s girlfriend chirped, making Johnny blush and hide his face in his knitted scarf, mumbling something about how stupid it was that it had to be so cold to play hockey and how much rather he’d be in his heated gym. “The joy of dating Korean guys,” Jaemin laughed, jumping up and climbing in a seat the row above you, “Let me take a picture, this is hilarious.” “Ten and Mark aren’t even Korean,” Johnny argued, “But Leechaiyapornkul would have been a bit excessive to put on a jacket.”

The rest of his argument was drowned out by the cheers that erupted when the players came from their lockers, the starting 6 quickly rounding the rink, making a couple of sharp turns and going through moves with their stick. Being their center forward player, Jeno was in the starting team along with Sungchan and Donghyuck. On the defense, Winwin and Mark were checking their gear before the captain made sure that all of Yangyang’s protective gear was on right. In the meantime Jeno was searching the bleachers and you couldn’t help but feel shy before you waved at him, jumping up and down so he would notice you. Because of the helmet you couldn’t know if he smiled at you but your heart made summersaults nonetheless when you playfully put on the hood of the jacket to show him that you were indeed wearing it. You imagined him laughing before he blew you a kiss with an over exaggerated movement that made quite a few people turn their heads to see who he could have blown the kiss to. Before you could even think about hiding, Johnny gripped your arm tightly and hissed: “If I am out here wearing Ten’s stupid jacket that is way too small for me while he refuses to wear mine in public because he’s not some trophy wife, you will not hide now.” Not knowing whether you should be afraid of Johnny or laugh at what really sounded like something Ten would say, you just nodded at the blonde, straightening out your back. From the opposite side you could see Ten sitting in the exchange box, a huge grin on his face when he must have spotted Johnny in the crowd (which really wasn’t that hard, the dude was unnecessarily tall).

“They better win this game or I will be mad,” the blonde grumbled when everyone had sat back down and the referee had called both team captains over. “It’s going to be a tight game,” Jaemin filled him in, “The gorillas have been on a roll for the past couple of games. But I have the feeling that a couple of players might just try extra hard today, trying to show off.” At the end, he threw both Johnny and you a very over exaggerated look completed with wiggling eyebrows which earned him slaps from both of you. “Now shut your mouth, Na Jaemin, I actually want to see this game.” “Wow she gets a hot hockey player as her boyfriend and suddenly she doesn’t need my top notch commentating anymore, that hurts.” “Shut up, Nana,” you smiled, focusing back to where in fact your boyfriend was playing on the ice just now. And even if you loved to see Jeno playing, you couldn’t wait for the game to be over to be back in his arms to congratulate him.

[s-brant]

Cherry Bowl (3/8)

(gif: @kiekiecarrera) (PART TWO) (PART FOUR) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: When Kie cancels their plans together, Y/N asks JJ on a date to the Cherry Bowl Drive-In. Unsure of how to navigate his first ever date, JJ seeks out advice. Unfortunately, the night doesn’t go as planned, and both parties are left shaken by miscommunication.

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Smut, public sex/exhibitionism, sexual choking, angst, depictions of mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, and implied/referenced abuse.

A/N: Welcome back to Tokens! Slight trouble in paradise is brewing for these two lovers, so buckle up and read because it’s gonna be a rollercoster for a little while after what happens in this chapter. I hope you all like it, and if you did, feedback is very appreciated. Have fun!

"I'm just saying that oatmeal raisin is superior to chocolate chip, why is that such an egregious crime, Kie?"

The lunch room is filled to the brim with students going to town on questionably cooked frozen foods, soggy tater tots, and sugary drinks from the vending machines despite the Obama-era posters on the walls advocating for healthier school lunches that never seemed to make their way to Kildare County High. The extent of their healthy lunches extended to a serving of overcooked canned green beans served with the worst slice of doughy pizza known to human kind, so it was sort of contradictory.

Y/N sits across the table from Pope and JJ, the latter of which being the one who launched into a full-fledged debate with Kiara about which type of cookie was better.

The clear cling wrap sits, unfolded, on the table with one of her stickers neatly placed on the back of it. As consolation for his epic loss yesterday at the beach, she paid an extra .75 cents to get him it when she arrived first to their shared lunch period—one of only two class periods they have together, the other being gym. He was still in line when she peeled a surfboard sticker off of her sheet and placed it at the center of the wrapped up cookie as if to remind him of her triumph over him in the waves.

"Thanks, hot stuff," he said, voice somewhat quieter despite the fact that hardly anyone was in the cafeteria with them. Then his smile dropped into an deadpan expression as soon as he saw her choice of sticker and looked back up at her. "You're never gonna let me live that one down, are you?"

"Never in a million years. I'll be gloating about it until I'm elderly."

"That's my girl."

The sound of the constant chatter surrounding them from at least two hundred other people drowns out the memories of yesterday that threaten to haunt her when she watches him debate with Kie. The mere recollection of their night in the back of the van has her reaching to pull the collar of her cropped tee up to assure that the hickeys remain hidden on instinct, and he catches the action out of the corner of his eye. It has him fighting a smile.

Kie quips, "Maybe on another planet, but, here, I think we can all agree chocolate chip is better, right Y/N?"

Y/N's eyes widen around a forkful of mushy "green beans" at the sound of her name being said bringing her from the depths of her memories.

Usually, she's quick to jump in and give her two cents on whatever stupid back and forth they're all having, but her mind was elsewhere. Unbeknownst to Kie and Pope, she was mentally reliving every second of getting fucked in the van last night, so her attention to detail when it comes to the Chocolate Chip vs Oatmeal Raisin case isn't all too sharp.

"Uhhh," she stops for a second, looking at the half eaten chocolate chip cookie in Kie's hand, "If I say chocolate chip is better, can I get a piece of it?"

Kie's face lights up at her words, and she's already pulling off a generous chunk of the baked good to hand off to her. The sound of a certain someone whose lap Y/N's legs are outstretched onto from beneath the table scoffing distracts her from the first bite.

"I know you prefer oatmeal raisin, you traitor," JJ says.

Their brunette friend's brows scrunch.

"Why is she a traitor?"

They try to keep from making any faces or giving anything away, but Y/N has to stifle the sound of her choking on her mouthful of cookie at the question. You'd think one of them came out and asked if they were dating or something with how she reacts, and she feels JJ squeeze her ankle in a non-verbal way of telling her to hold it together. It was her idea in the first place, yet he's a lot smoother with keeping it under the radar.

Under it all, the aspect of keeping it a secret does unnerve him to a degree. He doesn't think he'd be brave enough to communicate it, especially not when their relationship remains undefined, but the darker side of his mind wonders...

He shrugs, saying, "Cause we were friends first. Duh. Other than John B, I've known her the longest."

None of them stop to acknowledge the identical aches in their hearts at the mentioning of his name. They skip right over it like it never happened. After the funeral a few days ago, they've filled their quota on mushy-gushy sad talk for the next week and a half.

The real reason is something far more complicated than him having a claim staked on her loyalty through having the longest friendship. It's something tied up in days of slowly getting pulled into one another's worlds like the tug of gravity itself, in how he has to refrain from slipping his arm around her waist in the hallway or kissing her goodbye after a sleepover at the Chateau. But until she gives him the go-ahead, he won't let it slip to anyone.

Pope speaks up from beside him, "You literally met her twenty minutes before we did."

"Still counts. Technically, I did meet her first, so her betraying Team Oatmeal Raisin is enough to be tried for treason in Pogue Court."

"Pogue Court isn't a thing."

He crosses his arms after he pops the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

"It is now. You can be tried for treason for breaking the rules. Rule number one is that all Pogues have to admit oatmeal raisin is superior."

He's about to ball up the cling wrap to throw away later when the surfboard sticker catches his attention again. It's the same color as his board, which he'd like to think is a result of her being an evil mastermind that went out to get this sticker sheet for the sole purpose of teasing him, but he's the one who got her the sheet as a gift for her birthday, so he knows it was pure coincidence.

Last second, he peels the sticker away from the cling wrap and looks down to place it over the top of her yellow converse that were once a vibrant, paler color when Big John got them for her, but have since turned into an ugly mustard/dirt-dusted color they heckle her over.

"What are the other rules?" Y/N asks.

One of the hands holding onto where her feet are casually planted in his lap, something that they've done long enough that their friends won't see it as anything odd, slides down to caress the stretch of skin beneath the frayed hem of her dark jeans. Something she didn't know about him before whatever it is they have together started was that he constantly needs to be touching her. She can't say she doesn't love it though.

Pope answers, "The oatmeal raisin rule is not official"—a pointed glance at JJ—"But I'd assume the rest of the rules of Pogue Court would be no lying and no macking."

"So, basically you two break almost every rule except the oatmeal raisin one, and I lie," JJ says and turns to look at her, "How does it feel to be better than everyone, Y/N?"

"Pretty good, not gonna lie."

He keeps caressing little circles and tracing up and down her skin beneath the flared out pant leg of her jeans while he swipes his phone off of the table top without attracting the attention of their friends, who continue on to a new topic. She isn't too focused on what it is. She only picks up that it has something to do with a class they're in that's more advanced that hers, so she promptly checks out of the conversation.

Ever since John B died, she hasn't been performing too well in school. She tries, truly tries, but her mind outright refuses to absorb any of the information. When she reads her assigned reading, she hovers over the same paragraphs over and over until she shuts the book in a huff and hides it in her backpack again. Losing someone you love has a surprising amount of side effects.

Her phone buzzing in her hand brings her away from the impending cloud of doom that often accompanies any thoughts of John B, and when she taps in her passcode, her brother's birthday, a message bubble appears with a banner displaying JJ's contact name.

JJ (Derogatory) ur a good liar. prob could've fooled me if i weren't the one macking on u

Their eyes meet for a second across the table, then he watches her thumbs move to type a response.

Kief Princess Little do they know I break every rule now that I've switched sides on the cookie debate. Kinda impressive ngl.

JJ (Derogatory) triple threat, baby

JJ (Derogatory) thanks for the cookie btw

She smiles to herself, so wrapped up in their own world that she doesn't notice everyone in the room starting to pack up their stuff in anticipation of the bell that is due to ring any second now.

Kief Princess Had to repay you for last night somehow ;)

When she glances up to see his reaction, she watches his chest rise with a particularly large inhale, and he chews on the inside of his lip in thought.

JJ (Derogatory) strategically bringing up last night so i'm turned on in physics? ur an evil mastermind

Kief Princess I try.

Kief Princess Apparently whooping your sorry ass at surfing isn't the only thing I'm good at.

She hears him scoff.

JJ (Derogatory) first of all, ouch. second, u barely beat me

Kief Princess I'm happy to challenge you to a rematch. I have plans with Kie tonight, so I can't till this weekend. All it'll prove is that I am the rightful winner, but we knew that already.

JJ (Derogatory) what r the stakes this time

Kief Princess No sexual favors. If you beat me (fat chance) I'll formally rejoin team oatmeal raisin.

JJ (Derogatory) :( sex makes it more fun but i still accept those conditions

JJ (Derogatory) team oatmeal raisin needs u, even if ur a traitor

Kief Princess Why bet sexual favors if you're just gonna fuck me after anyway?

JJ (Derogatory) good point

The sound of the bell ringing echoes through the cafeteria, and they both pop their heads up from their phone screens to see everyone, including Pope and Kie, already packed up and raising from their seats to scurry off in the direction of their next classes. Meanwhile, their stuff is all bestrewn across the table, particularly JJ's belongings.

The sight of Kie walking away makes Y/N ask after her, "We're still on for tonight, right?

She stops with Pope's hand interwoven in hers. The look on her face when she turns would make you think she got caught doing something she wasn't meant to. Something like forgetting about the plans they made last week to watch Fear Street together. The Cherry Bowl Drive-In is premiering the first two movies as a double feature for the horror movie buffs of Kildare, so they decided to get tickets. Kiara shares a fondness of horror movies with her. Since gory movies make the boys squirm, though JJ pretends they don't, it's their own thing.

"Actually, Pope and I were gonna go to the beach. I'm sorry."

JJ knows she's more upset about it than she lets on, but Y/N simply gives the pair a smile that doesn't reach the eyes.

The sound of JJ behind her makes them laugh on their way out, diffusing the minor tension lingering in the air from the awkward encounter, "Use protection!"

After their friends offer them a goodbye, they gather their stuff quite leisurely, not really caring about being late.

It's something they've talked about before here or there: her feelings surrounding Kiara and Pope's sudden relationship. It's not as if she harbors any ill feelings for them, she doesn't, but the ripple effects of their pairing on the group, and more importantly the girls' own friendship, couldn't be clearer from her perspective. Between the missed hangouts, forgotten plans, and the convenient way she never seems to have time to hang out with her and JJ unless Pope is there too, it's been building up for a month now.

What makes it sting the most is how close her and Kie used to be. They didn't hit it off immediately the way she and JJ did as children until her thirteenth birthday when no one she invited showed up to the party Big John helped her set up in the yard of the Chateau.

She was the one who rallied the boys together to walk to ask their school friends from the year above to come hang out for an hour or two, promising a slice of the wonky-looking but delicious strawberry cake her and John B spent the morning crafting together. She can remember the sound of their high-pitched laughs and the cloud of flour that hung in the kitchen when they high-fived over the finished product like it was yesterday. In her heart, it was yesterday.

That night was when she fell in love with her friends, and that was when she first knew Kiara was her best friend. They wove friendship bracelets on each other that night and wore them for years until they withered away. No one had ever done something like that for her before. Not even JJ.

"You okay?"

Feeling his hand on her arm, slipping down to take her hand for a moment in the seclusion of the empty cafeteria, makes her glance up at him with a distinct sorrow washed over her features.

You know what? Screw this. Why should she be torn up over Kie and let it ruin her excitement for the double feature tonight? There's no way in hell she's letting her best friend ditching her for her boyfriend get in the way of her plans.

"Do you wanna go on a date tonight?" she asks him abruptly, then adds, "To the Cherry Bowl with me instead of Kie?"

The question sparks a pause in his mind, a halt of hesitation in which he worries about her avoiding having to answer what he asked, but he attempts to play it cool and not fuss over her outwardly. There have been times where being treated like that has made her feel suffocated, so he doesn't want to risk it. When she's ready, she'll talk about it, and if she takes too long and buries her feelings, then he'll intervene. For now, he tries to keep his face neutral despite the frown tempting his lips at her disappointment.

JJ looks around once more before throwing his arm around her shoulder to walk her out.

"You bet your ass I do."

What is a person supposed to act like on their first date that's not actually a date cause everything between them is the same, but kinda is a date because they called it one? If you ever find out, please find JJ and tell him because he has no clue.

Pope wasn't too much help in the Instagram group chat he made for it seeing as his and Kie's relationship is too fresh, John B isn't even alive, so he's out of service for advice unless there's Ouija Board he can borrow, and, thankfully, Kiara was his savior.

Their phones began blowing up as soon as he reached his class after lunch period ended. He couldn't under any circumstances let it be known that this mystery girl he had a date with was their friend, but thankfully Y/N already had the alibi of going to the Drive-In alone. All he had to do was make up a fake date scenario and get basic advice.

danknugstickiestickies added kiara-c and popeheyward to the groupchat

danknugstickiestickies named the group HELP ME

danknugstickiestickies i have a date with this chick i met on the beach when i was out with y/n last week. i need ur advice

His phone screen lit up with the notification that both of his friends were typing, signified with the three dot symbol bouncing in the bottom left corner as he thought it through. They couldn't possibly figure it out, right? They'd been careful, he'd been respectful of her wishes, and they'd been too busy together to notice anything new with them. He figured it would work. It was a risk, sure, but it was worth it to him. He didn't want to fuck this up with her.

Knowing her, she probably wouldn’t even treat it differently than any of their other hang outs. It's not like they haven't been romantic or sexual with each other. They've done everything but go out on an actual date, so why was he nervous?

kiara-c ummmm

popeheyward Yeah, I'm gonna need you to ELABORATE!!

kiara-c did hell freeze over? since when does jj maybank go out on dates??

danknugstickiestickies renamed the group hell froze over

kiara-c very funny, I'm laughing so hard 😐

popeheyward Do we know her?

danknugstickiestickies don't think u do. she moved here last week and hasn't enrolled in school yet. her name's steph

popeheyward What about Y/N though?

kiara-c ^^

JJ's chest muscles tightened with the question prompting a rush of anxiety that made his breathing feel slightly harder. He glanced up at his Physics teacher, who was essentially dozing off behind his desk with his hand in a bag of chips and an educational video on the projector as an excuse to not teach, and looked back down at his phone without the added stress of possibly getting his phone confiscated.

Pope's message might as well have been a sucker punch. Forget butterflies, he set a wasp’s nest loose inside of his stomach to tie it into knots and flip it every which way. His neglected textbook served as a prop for his phone to lean on as he set it down to think.

Did they know? As far as he was aware, they were getting away with it. No evidence, concrete or circumstantial, was there to prove it. At least the stress of the situation killed any chance of him being turned on by her reminder of last night in their messages. This shit was boner repellant of the highest degree.

He played stupid. Better to let them volunteer whatever information they had before he went in saying anything incriminating that they didn't already know. If anything would sour the experience of their first date, it would be him accidentally making their strange in-between relationship public behind her back.

danknugstickiestickies ?? what do u mean

Three dots bounced in the bottom left corner of his slightly cracked phone screen.

popeheyward ...

kiara-c I mean, you don't see it?

danknugstickiestickies see what

popeheyward I guess we were wrong, but all of us always thought you two had some feelings going on.

"You don't say?" JJ murmured sarcastically to himself under his breath. "Never crossed my mind, Pope."

danknugstickiestickies bro that's jb's little sister

kiara-c so?

danknugstickiestickies forbidden fruit? making john b roll over in his grave? do those ring a bell or am i speaking in tongues

He was already a proficient liar in real life, but, fuck, it was easy in text messages. There's no chance at deciphering facial expression or tone, just a plain message with no room to budge. Thank God he didn't do this in person with them. He could've survived, but it wouldn't have been as quick and painless as the group chat was.

kiara-c jeez, sorry

Pope didn't voice it, but he noticed something.

He looked up from his phone and stared off at the wall in thought in his AP European History class. It piqued his interest that JJ simply said she was off limits, forbidden fruit as he put it, but did not outright deny having feelings for her. In fact, he didn't even address the question. He made excuses for why he shouldn't have feelings for her, but he never said he didn't have feelings for her.

Kie did not notice. Not because she wasn't smart enough to either, but because she was too busy hiding her phone behind her backpack to think too deeply about it. Her teacher was one of those teachers that would flip shit if they saw a cell phone turned off and faced down on the desk, let alone being used by a student during a lesson.

In his classroom across the hallway, JJ bounced his leg up and down beneath his desk in an absentminded urge to release the built up energy the anxiety produced in an over abundance.

popeheyward Our bad then. Even John B thought y'all were sus lmao.

Since when was that a known fact? Could he tell? Did he talk to Pope about him and Y/N before he died? Either way, it wasn't the time to pry about it.

kiara-c yeah you guys honestly could've fooled me if you wanted to

danknugstickiestickies well thank u, glad ur invested in our friendship but

danknugstickiestickies please help, i have no fucking clue how to act on a date and this girl is too cool for me to screw this up

That was when they finally dropped the interrogation session and started offering up tips. The best ones came from Kie, which made sense to him since women are more likely to know what other women like than two dudes who share one collective brain cell and never had real relationships.

Rule One: Be ready to pick her up five minutes early.

He wasn't ready to pick her up five minutes early. His bike broke down by the time he made it halfway down his street, so he had to push it back up the road and into the yard before setting off on foot to reach the Chateau quickly enough. And by quickly enough, it means he got there five minutes late, not early.

Rule Two: Compliment her after you get in the car.

She tossed him the keys to the Twinkie from across the hood, not giving him the chance to open the door for her, and it wasn't until they were setting off down the road that he remembered the next piece of advice he was given.

Side-eyeing her in his peripheral vision, he tried to find something to compliment her on specifically rather than the general compliments about her being pretty that she never fully believes when he says them. He was intending to say something about the skirt she had on, but when he chanced a glance over at her, she caught him and asked—

"What is it?"

Sent into panic mode, JJ blurted out instead, "I like your shoes."

He could've bashed his face against the steering wheel twenty times right then and there at the utter absence of reaction on her part for the next few uncomfortable seconds. It wasn't that it was a bad compliment. She appreciates any compliments at all...but her shoes were hidden from his view. Not to mention, they were the dirty, mustard yellow converse that the Pogues bash on a daily basis.

She laughed, lifting her leg to expose the sneaker on her right foot, and asked, "These? Dude, you roast me for these all the time. You and John B said they look like Big Bird shit on them."

The skin on the apples of his cheeks scorched hot with embarrassment, and he was never so glad that the overhead lights in the van were burnt out until that moment. He would've died on the spot if she saw him blush like that, face flushed pinker than sunburn. All he could do to save himself was murmur something about the color growing on him and keep driving in the direction of the theater with his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel he fantasized about banging his face into.

Rule Three: Insist on picking up the check.

In this case, it meant insist on buying the popcorn and drinks, and he miraculously managed to drop his wallet somewhere along the way when he ran over to the Chateau, so when he stepped up to the makeshift concession stand with her standing at his side, he felt around for his wallet in his jeans to no avail.

His thoughts echoed back to him, You gotta be fucking kidding me. Seriously? Is this actually happening right now?

"JJ, it's honestly fine," she said softly as he leaned over to search back of the Twinkie for the wallet. "We can look for it on your street right now if you want. It has your ID and stuff, you don't want a stranger to have that. We don't need to stay—"

It took all of his control to not shout it in reaction when he said, "No way. You've been waiting for this, and Kie ditched you, so I ain't ditching you too. We're staying."

His wallet could go kick rocks.

He came too far to be dragged down by the old leathery piece of shit anyway. Would he go out and search for it tirelessly the second the date ended? Hell yeah, that fucker had twenty dollars and his debit card in it, but he couldn't bear the thought of abandoning her or ruining her anticipated movie night by taking her out to search the streets with their phone flashlights for a wallet they might not find. He'd wait till the movies ended, take her home, then haul ass around the Cut searching for it after.

Thankfully, he found a couple bucks crumbled up in his front pocket while she scavenged for coins in the glove compartment, and they came up with enough to buy a water bottle and small popcorn to share together.

Rule Four: Don't have sex on the first date.

And it may sound easy enough to not act like a complete Neanderthal for the length of two movies, but the girl makes it pretty damn difficult if he's to say so himself.

That's what led him here, laying in the back of the sideways-parked Twinkie in the farthest corner of the outdoor theater with her practically on top of him. In any other instance, he wouldn't be opposed in the slightest, but with the cursed fourth rule in mind, he isn't too thrilled with the feeling of her hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

It isn't even meant to be sexual. They're constantly touching one another this way. She'll even slip her hands up under his shirt just to feel the warmth of his skin or when he asks her if she can get an itch on a part of his back he can't reach, but for some reason his brain is short circuiting right now.

The thing is, when Kie and Pope said he shouldn't do it on the first date, they meant it for his and Steph's made up circumstances, not his and Y/N's full-blown relationship without labels. When you've had sex with someone as many times as they have with each other, the hesitancy on the "first date" is nonexistent. It doesn't matter. But JJ, trying to follow the advice given to him to the letter for the sake of being the date she deserves, doesn't think about it that way.

It shouldn't be this nerve-wracking. They've been best friends since they were children, they've been flirting since they found out what basic attraction was in the first place, and they've been forming this relationship ever since John B died. Why can't he relax? Why is this so different compared to how easy it felt between them yesterday on the beach or today at lunch?

Rule Five: Be yourself.

It takes him another few moments of laying here with her before he realizes quite abruptly what went wrong in a quick flash of a thought that brings the fifth rule back to him. The problem wasn't the bike, or the weird compliment about her Big Bird sneakers, or the lost wallet.

The problem is him. The problem is that he's trying way too hard to make this something it isn't. The part about them that he adores so dearly is how they never have to try when they're together. With any other girl or guy, they'd have to fake something or act a certain way, yet when they're together, they can simply exist and everything is runs smoothly. That's not to say they don't disagree or bump heads, they do, but short of those outlier moments, it's easier than anything else they do in life.

His eyes flicker away from the screen for the first time since the movie began, which, by the way, is gruesome enough at times that he had to divert his eyes to prevent himself from seeing it happen. They land on where she lays, completely content with the night in spite of its mishaps, with her head propped up on the pillows they brought from the Chateau.

He wonders if she can tell he's acting differently. Surely she must notice. She's the type of person that typically never misses a thing, perfect for the gold hunt they went on in the summer with picking up the clues and helping her brother unravel the mystery, so maybe she noticed how flustered this date has him. Does it bother her? Does he bother her?

With a confirming glance back up at the movie to see nothing important happening, he can't fight the urge to speak anymore.

"Can I tell you something?"

His voice appearing through the darkness of the shut off van after spending the past half hour in complete silence makes her jolt at first before realizing who it was. Though she loves horror movies, she can't claim to not be affected by them. The night she falls asleep after watching one, she often finds herself compelled to turn a light on and keep her feet from dangling off the edge of the bed. It's worth the fear, though.

When she turns to look at JJ, there's a warm smile on her face. She's cuddled into his side with a hand placed casually atop his thigh, caressing with no purpose or intent, and her movement halts when the light from the movie on the projector allows her to see the expression on his face.

Anxiety has become an increasingly significant presence in his life with the recent events in mind; John B and Sarah, the four-hundred million dollars they lost out on, and dodging his father whenever he sneaks home to switch out the backpack of clothes and personal belongings he keeps at the Routledge house.

It manifests itself in jittery nerves, stomach pains, shortness of breath, and, at worst, panic attacks striking either at random or in response to a specific trigger. It's one of the few things he still tries to hide from her, and she tries not to push him too hard with opening up about it.

She abandons the movie for the time being and rolls onto her side to face him, upper body propped up on her elbow as she examines his face with downturned features.

"Of course," she says.

The words left unsaid are, "You can tell me anything. Whenever you need someone to listen, or to talk to about shit, you can tell me." He's heard her say it enough that he doesn't need to hear it now to know it's true.

There's a pause, then—

"I feel like I fucked this entire date up," he starts to ramble and cuts her off before she can think about saying what she wants to, "and I know it's okay to you. You have way too high of a tolerance for my bullshit, and I've been trying so hard to make this perfect, but all that did was screw it up."

She's left quiet for a second, taking it all in.

Maybe if he hadn't been so anxious about it, he would've realized what was wrong with his bike when he rode it home from school, or he would've noticed his wallet fall out of his pocket. The point is, he wishes he hadn't let the label attached to this freak him out so much. He isn't sure why it does, but it does.

But she doesn't do what he expects. She isn't drowning him in reassurances and, "It's okay's" because she knows he doesn't care for them much. When he, the most stubborn person she knows, apologizes for something he did, he doesn't want it to turn into the person accepting the apology coddling him.

Y/N sighs.

"Is that why you've been acting so different all night? I scared you with the whole ‘date’ thing, didn't I? It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want it to be."

What she doesn't know is that he wants it to be a date. He wants it to be a date so badly, he risked Pope and Kie finding them out for the sake of getting some proper advice on it, and now he's caught up in the same game of tug and war in his mind that always occurs when he wants to tell her the truth about his feelings for her.

Part of him doesn't understand why he doesn't outright say it. With every other girl he once showed interest in, he had no issues in letting them know he wanted them, but this is different. This isn't simply wanting someone, he thinks he's fallen for her. But whenever he says he's gonna grow a pair and tell her after all this time, he chokes. Involuntarily, he's reminded of his parents. Other than his friends saying it platonically, the only people to tell him they loved him were them, and with how they treated him, he sure as hell doesn't think that is love.

From his dad's brutal physical abuse to his mom's abandonment, he's too timid to tell her he loves her because of what could happen if she loves him back. Everyone else that has said that to him has either hurt him, died like John B did, or abandoned him.

He won't let that happen with him and Y/N. What they have, albeit undefined and codependent, is safe. It's the only thing he has left. Maybe it isn't right, and maybe he should open up about it to communicate the correct way, but somewhere in the misshapen logic of his mind, he correlates love to abandonment. And he doesn't want that to happen with her.

There are two sides of him at battle inside his mind. One side, the side that wants to do right by their relationship and actually communicate his feelings for once in his life, wants him to tell her everything. The other side, the side that responds based on the history of his past, wants him to hide it all.

"Will you be mad at me if we don't call it a date?" he asks.

She shakes her head.

The heavy sensation inside of JJ's chest nears a point of vitriolic violence against him as he starts to realize what he's doing to her, clearly letting her down, but he can't stop himself. Like a passive witness watching himself from outside of his body, the instantaneous trauma response to the sudden confrontation of his true feelings for her guides his actions without his permission. It shuts down any protest he has.

The sound of the movie fills the gap of silence between them the entire time. It’s a variety of bloodcurdling screams and disgusting sounds that would've made him gag if he weren't as distracted.

They can make out each other's faces through the darkness, but barely. It takes a flash of bright color from the film or a nearby car's lights turning on for them to fully see one another. Without the other knowing, they both put masks of calm and collected coolness on their faces despite the feelings raging beneath the surface—more so on his part than hers.

"Maybe," he says, pausing, "we should just keep things the way they've been."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, a soul-crushing amount of disappointment weighs her down. She said it was fine if he doesn't want it to be a date—and it is, she would never hold it against him—but that doesn't mean it can't hurt her. Things have been going so well, she almost thought...If tonight went well, she was thinking about no longer keeping it a secret, but if he said he wants things to stay the same, then maybe he isn't as ready for it as she is?

Meanwhile, JJ is on another page entirely.

She's embarrassed of being with you, a familiar voice in the back of his head croons. She's gonna leave just like everyone else does. If she doesn't even wanna tell your friends, why should you pretend you're dating?

The internal comments are the type that cause him to physically grimace when he's alone. Intrusive thoughts are just that: intrusive.

Sneaking into the guarded sanctuary of a person's mind, they set out to convince them the opposite of their reality. The only thing is, where most people's minds are guarded sanctuaries with walls of impregnable defense, his mind is the equivalent of a fortress blown to smithereens. The castle walls lay in rubble, the guards no where to be seen, and the path for these thoughts to slip past and straight to the vulnerability of his mind is left wide open.

In the privacy of his room, these thoughts attack him the most at night when he tries to fall asleep—when things get too quiet. With nobody around, when they get this bad there's nothing he can do except break down. It builds from the mere anxiety of attempting to force the thoughts away to full-blown panic attack mode. The more he resists them, the more aggressive they become. He'll gasp for air with tears streaming down his face, hitting his head with the heel of his hand as if that'd do something to stop his relentless mind.

But he can't afford to react in front of her, so the extent of his reaction is a subtle twitch of his face that she cannot see in the momentary darkness before the movie switches to another scene a second later. In a way, it does make the thoughts go away to have her here preventing him from spiraling alone. Having to focus on her keeps his mind away for moments at a time until the thoughts ease their grip on him.

When she hasn't answered for a while, he asks, terrified that he did something bad, "Are we good?"

The question seems to wake her up, snapping her out of the lonely direction her thoughts went into when he "rejected" her. It takes every bit of common sense she has left to force herself to understand that this doesn't mean he doesn't want her. He does, and not calling this a date doesn't mean they won't be together in the way they have been since John B's death, but she isn't perfect. She gets as unsure and insecure as he does.

As if the cloud of doom was lifted off of her, she makes her face lighten where she lays on her side next to him. Seeing this expression makes his chest feel less heavy, and he could let out a sigh of relief at the realization that he didn't break her heart and stomp on it. He should've known. Y/N is the sweetest person he knows, so she never would've flipped shit over him not wanting to label this as a date. That's not how she is.

And he's partly right. It isn't how she is. She would never hold it against him if he didn't want something further with her since she got herself into this position by pursuing him with his reputation with girls in mind, but she can't ignore it. Whether she wants it to or not, it had its affect on her as soon as he said it.

She leans in to kiss him, their lips meeting in the middle with the faint taste of popcorn salt mingling at the soft peck.

When she pulls away, she brushes the hair back from his face and says, "Don't worry. Nothing can change how I feel about you."

She has no clue what it feels like to hear that from her.

Despite the turmoil they unknowingly share beneath the surface due to this conversation, he could cry hearing her say it. It doesn't feel real to him that she feels the same way he does about her, because nothing could change how he feels about her either. That’s why he manages to work up the courage to repeat it back to her, and, for now, this is the closest he's physically capable of coming to telling her the truth.

"Ditto," he says.

It isn't what she wanted, but it's close enough, and if she dwells on this any longer, she might start getting too emotional and let the urge to tear up become too strong. Why does she have to be this sensitive? It's no secret that it's remarkably easy to make her cry, but this is insane to her. When all of this began with him, she didn't give a shit about him not wanting a label. She understood him, and she understood that he doesn't do this kind of thing, so why has it changed? Why doesn't she want to keep it a secret anymore? Why does she want this to be a date when she knows he doesn't want it to be?

Pulled by an invisible string back to him to silence her mind, she leans in to kiss him again with a hand cupping the back of his neck to guide him the rest of the way to her.

It shouldn't be laced with any sexual intention. She should be kissing him simply because she wants to, and, in a way, she is. Their kisses and touches are never lacking the motivation that is their underlying connection and mutual feelings for one another, but this is not the same. As he kisses her back with as much confidence and passion as always, she is reeling from the conversation that reminded her too much of a breakup.

It takes another minute of this for the kiss to heat up, their breathing becoming shallower in the moments they part to inhale, and she is undeniably the one instigating when she officially crosses the line between casual and sexual by crawling onto his lap. It's not hard for him to pick up on when their innocent moments take a turn. She's easy to read in that regard, and this has happened a multitude of times with them, so the shift of a mini make out session turning into something more is nothing out of the ordinary for them.

If he knew how shaken she is on the inside, he'd never want this. And the same would go for her if she knew what he was thinking before this. Neither of them wants to admit what they're feeling.

With her legs seated on either side of his hips, she kisses him like it's the last time she'll ever get the opportunity to. Her hands wander wherever they can, pulling at his shirt and feeling him up as his hands guide her hips to move against his in a steady grinding that she has no issue partaking in. It's an eagerness he hasn't seen from her in weeks. She's never un-excited when it comes to being physical with him either, but this is another level. The last time a girl was all over him like this, it was desperate touron at a party a few months ago.

In the span of time it takes her to glance over her shoulder to see if anyone could see them and reach to pull her skirt up until it bunches around her hips—no one can see them, by the way, since they got here late and were forced to cram the van into the back corner of the lot with no street lights illuminating the path—his brows raise at her presumptuous behavior. Not that he's one to complain, however, seeing as he's typically the one doing what she is.

Their next kiss clashes their teeth hard enough to make them wince, but he loves it. It makes him smirk into her parted mouth, alive with both the feeling her reassurance provided and the fuzzy-headed high that often finds him when they're together in this way. Incomparable to past flings or the high related to any drugs, she is the peak of everything to him. It's no contest.

His chest stutters against hers with a bout of amused laughter, asking within a brief pause in what feels like the most JJ thing he's said this awkward night, "Two for two in the Twinkie. What's gotten into you?"

Y/N's hand dips between where their bodies move together to unclasp the closed buckle of his belt in one smooth motion that has it falling apart with a clinking noise.

Her features are set with a look that tells him she means business. Whatever it is that sparked this, he wonders how the fuck to make it happen again another time. She's begged for it before, but never taken control so dominantly, and he can't deny what the role reversal does to him. The evidence is obvious in the distinct hardness she feels pressing up against the hand undoing his jeans.

"I was hoping it'd be you," she says, voice breathless and airy from the constant contact in a way that makes it ten times hotter for him.

If there were any chance of him not being in the mood prior to this, which wasn't the case anyway, it's gone now. He never wants to hear her say she doesn't deliberately try to tease him ever again.

He doesn't need to be told twice.

JJ surges forward to capture her mouth with his, this time with no intention of pulling away to breathe or speak again. No, he'll let himself get lightheaded and dizzy if it means he can stay with her for as long as possible.

With the circumstances of it all, them being visible to someone if they happened to pass by the open door of the van, they move at a pace quicker than usual. She's immediately helping him shimmy his jeans and underwear far enough down his hips to free his dick from the confines of his clothes, making him sigh out a breath of relief when her hand brushes against him in the process.

There's no opportunity to slow down, it has exploded into a full-throttle speed race that neither of them can halt.

His hand blindly flies out beside him to grope the floor of the van for the set of keys he tossed carelessly to the side once the movie started, eyes shut in the midst of the hot, messy kiss they share. His fingers find the fabric of one of the blankets they brought in case they got cold, then drifts again and lands on her Big Bird sneakers until he feels the sharp metal of her keys meet his calloused palm.

After the events of last summer, she bought a switch blade to keep on her key ring alongside the keys to the van, HMS Pogue, and Chateau. She may not like violence or weapons, seeing as she was a skeptic of JJ keeping the gun alongside her friends, but she saw it necessary. Between Rafe, Topper, and Kelce, how could she leave the safety of her and her friends up to chance knowing what some of the kooks did to them not long ago? What happened to Pope on the golf course alone was enough to make her skin crawl.

Right now, though, the knife flips out from the pressure of his thumb pushing the button to release it. He holds it out away from her at first to assure it doesn't nick her in the process, then uses his other hand to tug the side of her panties that hugs her hip far out enough to press the sharp side of the blade onto the inside of it.

She can hardly believe what she's watching as JJ cuts the delicate maroon underthings from her body as if he were doing something so normal, like it's something he's done before. Her forehead is pressed against his, her mouth parted both in shock and in a need to pant for oxygen, and she watches the knife ruin her favorite panties. The stitches come apart with a satisfying ripping noise that can hardly be heard over the sound of people reacting to the movie in the background.

Other customers of the Cherry Bowl Drive-In are too glued to the screen as a beloved character is chased down, reacting in shouts when she's seized by the killer and shoved onto the table of an industrial bread slicer, so they remain wholly unnoticed.

The lace, now ripped in half, dangles on the tip of the knife when he lifts it away from her, tosses it aside, and presses the button once more to retract the blade. It clatters to the floor, but is in no way forgotten with them resuming in a desperation to keep going until they both satisfy the need clawing at them from the inside. But her sense of need is different from his, and even with the fresh memory of him with the switch blade in mind, she's still somewhere else the whole time.

Her mind is faraway, muted through layers of sadness, anger, and disappointment as he reaches between them to line himself up to her entrance. The sensation of him running his cock, hard and messy with a few drops of precome, through her dripping pussy to coat it in her slick arousal is enough to make her moan pathetically. Yet when he's about to guide himself inside of her, she stops him.

"Wait, wait, wait," she breathes out rapidly, heart pounding so hard she can feel herself pulsating between her thighs, "Condom."

They were so antsy to get to it, they almost forgot.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, and his eyes flicker from where they were trained between their bodies to glance back and forth around the van before it hits him. "I lost my wallet..."

But right when he thinks their public rendezvous in the back of the Drive-In is over due to his unfortunate mistake, she shakes her head and slips away from her perch astride his lap to crawl over to her bag.

She fumbles with the old tote bag and plunges her arm in to sift through the hodge podge of things that are purely Y/N in nature—stickers, glitter pens, a half-eaten bag of candy, etc—for the square foil package she decided to toss in before she left just in case. She usually doesn't keep them on her because he never fails to have one, but, thankfully, she had the random instinct to bring it tonight.

The only thing to bring her out of her cloudy, malevolent storm of feelings when she settles back onto his lap with the condom wrapper ripped open for him is him saying, "So you planned this, huh?" with his mouth tipped in a familiar self-satisfied grin.

She didn't plan it. In fact, she threw herself at him the second she sensed him withdrawing from her and can't stop herself despite the fact that she constantly feels two seconds away from letting a tear slip down her cheek. If that counts as "planning it", then sure.

"Maybe so," she answers, cool, calm, and collected—the antithesis of the truth.

They usually don't lie to each other.

They're thrown right back into it without any other hiccups once he rolls the condom on, and he takes in a shaky breath at her hand wrapping around him to align their bodies up. Before she can do anything, though, he takes chance to swipe the blanket he found a moment ago and wrap it around her back to keep her covered in case they get caught.

Y/N sinks down onto his cock with her lip caught between her teeth to stifle the sound that threatens to escape. JJ, on the other hand, doesn't bother concealing the sound of the groan he makes at the sensation of having her wrapped around him like this. The tension in her entire body from the anticipation and the looming threat of being seen by someone has her squeezing him so tightly, he can't help but be a little louder than he should.

Her soft palm slaps over his mouth with enough pressure to force his groan to quiet itself, and she watches his pretty blue eyes widen in reaction to the dominant action. Who is this girl and what has she done with his sweet, submissive Y/N? Don't get him wrong, he is very turned on by it, but it's unlike her to take the lead this way. He can't figure it out.

"What's wrong, angel?" she asks in a whisper into his ear, her hand over his mouth and her hips starting to slowly rock against him, "Watch the movie."

Once the words leave her mouth, she drops her hand, just in case he wants to stop and can't say anything because she had his mouth covered, and JJ is pretty sure he's died and gone to heaven.

He doesn't watch the movie, not at all, because he's too busy watching her. For someone losing their mind internally, she does not let it show, nor does she let it distract her from what's happening. If anything, the distraction in this situation is the sex, not what's going on inside of her head.

There's a moment of adjustment and going as slowly and gently as possible while waiting for the dull pressure of feeling him inside of her to fade away, but, for the most part, she doesn't waste any time. As soon as she feels comfortable enough with the ache between her thighs giving way to a spark of pleasure when she grinds her clit down on his pubic bone, she starts to ride him at a better pace than the initial slow movements of her hips.

She raises herself up and takes him again inch by inch, enjoying the sense of fullness she gets from having to fit him in spite of the slight discomfort at first, and she could swear that he'll leave bruises in the shape of his handprints with how tightly he clutches her hips. It's all he can do to prevent himself from moaning or saying something, ever the vocal lover she's come to know.

Unless his mouth is preoccupied like it was on the beach yesterday afternoon, JJ is usually impossible to shut up, especially in this context. With him always whispering dirty things to her, whether it be praises, pet names, or plans on what he wants to do to her, she has come to find it breathtakingly hot. He could likely get away with saying something if he wanted to, but he isn't sure he wants to risk it. If he opens his mouth to spew something filthy to her, he won't trust himself not to make a louder, different kind of noise that won't fit in the with background audio the other moviegoers are listening to.

The wet sound of their bodies colliding that fills the space of the van is drowned out by the loud and violent sequence occurring on the screen far ahead of them, and hearing it makes her bounce herself on him a little harder. She's fueled on by it all, and, strangely, what happened before she practically pounced on him is the main contributor.

Similarly to the nature of his intrusive thoughts, the harder she resists the memory of how it felt when he told her he didn't want this to be a date, the more forceful it is in its return. Her eyes trail down to watch where they connect with her forehead pressed to his, then she's thrown back into the feeling of helpless disappointment and insecurity. His head tips back against the window with his bottom lip dropped open and his brows furrowed just enough to create a crease on his forehead, and she's bombarded with the look of relief on his face when he realized he didn't have to be tied down to her with a label.

It makes her want to get rougher, harder, and she doesn't even care if it'll make her sore later on. She presses herself down so far every time she slides down on his cock, her teeth draw blood on her lip with how hard she must bite it to remain quiet. The pain of her hipbones rubbing against his doesn't even matter to either of them at this point. They're both too lost in the pleasure that has begun to take control of them to care about something as minuscule as that, or the burn in her thighs from the repetitive physical strain.

She grabs his wrist and brings his hand between them, flattening hers overtop of it and pressing down on the base of her abdomen in the midst of the increasingly feverish thrusts.

"Feel you here," she murmurs to him through a quiet moan, hoping he can hear it over the movie, and pushes down on his hand for emphasis. And if the way he reacts by cursing under his breath tells her anything, it's that he picked up on it. "JJ..."

He reaches out to grab her by the throat with his free hand and tug her forward to kiss him, as if something inside of him snapped in response to her doing that. The motions of her jolting up and down throws the already messy and uncoordinated kiss off-kilter, but they don't mind. It has them separating every time she lifts up, producing this heady little head rush from from them breathing in each other's air without actually letting their mouths meet in the middle.

Though they're trying their hardest not to alert anyone outside of what's happening, it didn't occur to him until now, when his eyes catch John B's old bandana swinging back and forth where it's secured around the rear view mirror.

They're worried about moaning while the entire fucking Twinkie is rocking with their movements. Well, at least it makes good use of the corny sticker he gifted John B last year as a gag gift. He tried to peel it off after JJ snuck it onto the side window to no avail. So, now Y/N is stuck with a sticker on her car reading, "If the van's a-rockin', come on in, we like orgies," rather than the more common phrase.

It almost makes him start laughing, and he prays no one takes that shit seriously, 'cause he is never intent on sharing this breathtaking girl. Ever.

Y/N isn't anywhere near laughing like he is, in fact, she's finding it difficult to keep herself together. She feels her eyes sting with the promise of tears, and she's never felt so pathetic before. Is she seriously about to cry during sex? Is she really that girl that is so ill-equipped to handle rejection, she can't get through it without tears?

She won't cry. Perhaps if he sees how glossy her eyes have become in a rare moment of good lighting, she can blame it on the hand around her throat putting pressure on the sides of her neck.

The worst part about her being near to crying is the timing of it.

The emotion of what she feels mentally mixes with the swirling, building sensation she feels in the pit of her stomach that tells her she's close to going over the edge, and it's so overwhelming. Was she imagining that their friendship had changed? More importantly, is this all she'll ever be to him? Sex is the only thing she's sure of with him, it's the only thing that doesn't require deeper emotions, and when the ground beneath their fragile relationship felt shaky...

He can feel her starting to unravel, and he knows that he'll come before she does if he doesn't do anything now, so he decides to take control.

JJ pulls the hand he had resting on her abdomen away as though he were burned by it, wrapping his arm around her waist to steady her body against his and using the hand around her neck for leverage to thrust up into her, effectively reducing her to a teary-eyed, moaning mess atop him. They both stopped caring about making noise the second he began to fuck her like this.

She cries out in ecstasy at the sudden change in pace and depth that has him hitting all the right places. Every time he thrusts up into her, just as rough as she wished for, the tip of his cock nudges into that perfect spot inside of her that makes her incapable of silencing her moans. This time, it's JJ that puts his hand over her mouth, letting the one he had around her neck move away to keep her from alerting everyone around them of what's happening.

There's nothing she can do to stop her climax as it barrels through her in its initial sweeping wave of bliss to contrast the venomous doubts in her mind. She's never felt such conflicting, yet powerful feelings before—the intensity of the physical pleasure that makes her whine into the palm of his hand, then the part of her mind replaying every word he said in their conversation before this.

Her body is rigid and tense through it all, squeezing down around his cock with the involuntary spasms of her orgasm, and he can't help himself anymore. All it takes are a few more frantic thrusts for him to bury himself inside of her one last time and spill into the condom, uncovering her mouth so he can drown out his own groans into a kiss.

Their skin sticks to their clothes on the inside with sweat from the exertion of their actions, and he can feel her stomach tremble where it presses up against his with each undulation of her hips that meet his as he rides it out.

But even with the added distraction of the sex, she can't rid herself of the feeling that started plaguing her as soon as things went awry. That was why he was acting weird all night. He must have been so worried about her thinking this was anything more than their typical hangouts that he couldn't bring himself to act normally.

She forces herself to look happy when they pull away from the kiss, panting, and JJ, unaware of what she's been thinking, doesn't notice the small deception.

Tag list: @gabiatthedisco

[gnflorida]

Out of curiosity, do you think Dream and George’s feelings are more romantic or platonic?

hmm. i think that in general the line between platonic/romantic love is a lot less distinct than people tend to think it is. george and dream undeniably have some sense of attraction to one another, whether platonic or not. they also have clearly displayed a strong level of loyalty and commitment to each other, as well as a lot of fondness.

thinking about their dynamic, i always go back to something that i was briefly taught in a psych class a few years ago and has stuck with me a lot: the triangular model of love.

i think dream and george’s relationship, from what they have expressed online, leans toward companionate love, something i’ve mentioned once or twice before. i say this largely because they have demonstrated clear feelings of commitment and liking for one another. you can see it the way they’ve interwoven themselves in each other’s lives over the course of several years. the way they still spend hours every day talking after so long. the way they genuinely live in each other’s heads rent free and don’t even realize that the people they’re around look at them crazy when they bring up the other person in a situation that has nothing to do with them.

in contrast, we have no way of knowing the extent to which either of their feelings lean towards the “passionate” side, because that’s not something they would really discuss publicly, if they’ve even considered it seriously themselves.

in my experience, these somewhat-vague and undefined feelings are things that can easily become romantic if you start thinking of them in that light. and through both their friends and their audiences making comments about “dnf”, dream and george are very regularly exposed to the idea of a romantic relationship between themselves. it would force also anybody put some amount of consideration into what their true feelings are for the other person.

to what degree do they actually consider this idea seriously? who’s to say. but the two of them are close enough that these comments are not always easily laughed off, like most platonic fake-flirting is, and are sometimes even met with an awkward silence instead. and when they do actually play into the jokes, it is often ambiguous as to what is meant as pure bait/fanservice, and what is a reflection of the actual nature of their relationship, of the interactions that would be no different off-stream. i imagine that if this distinction can be so confusing from an audience perspective, it’s probably confusing for them, too, especially knowing how great their communication skills are.

so ultimately, even though there is a lot that will always remain unknown to us, i think dream and george very clearly love and feel strongly towards one another. they have an incredible dynamic, and have built a very strong relationship over the course of years. they are each other’s extensions of self. and i don’t think that’s something that fits nearly into a box of platonic/romantic.