#then b) said that boys as a result are going to and i quote ‘stop touching girls and start only touching each other and living together’

[hecksupremechips]

My mother was genuinely pissed off tonight about the concept of two guys showing affection towards each other in any capacity and was ranting about it for like 20 minutes. And she still claims she’s not homophobic 😞

[randombush3]

you're not sorry to go

ona batlle x reader

summary: ona and you are best friends, but it's a bit more complicated than that

words: 4.5k

notes: this one is based on true events x

also let's ignore the result of my poll because i want the next part to have smut and it wasn't fitting with the vibe of this part

oh and the title is a quote from 'this side of paradise' by f. scott fitzgerald

January, nine years ago. 

Nothing about today has been out of the ordinary. 

The weekend is starting, winter drags on, and Ona is all set to train later on in the evening, provided you confirm whether or not you are willing to accompany her to the local pitch. 

Barcelona B usually allows for Fridays off, but Ona isn’t stupid. No one becomes the greatest footballer of all time by not playing more. School is beginning to bore Ona to death, and she knows that she wants what she always has: to go professional. 

“I have a plan,” she tells you confidently, glad you don’t mind sitting on the uneven, grassy sideline as she sets up her cones with determination. You hold the ball between your hands, though Ona is amused by how foreign it looks to you, and you seem to be holding her prized possession hostage so that she spills. “It sounds simple and obvious out loud, but it’s that I am going to play for Barça while you go to the university. You can introduce me to your smart friends so I can meet my wife, and you’ll have all the boys after you anyway so–” 

“Ona.” Her monologue has led her eyes to the ground, but your voice makes her head jerk upwards, not needing much authority to get her to look at you. “I’ve actually had a… realisation, of sorts,” you say with a bashful grin, chin jutting out the way it does when you are gearing up to tell her something that no one else will get to know. “Your cousin is really pretty.” 

“I’ll tell her you said that.” It’s a nice thing to say, and you are partly aware that Ona’s cousin knows who you are because she doesn’t shut up about you ever, but you can’t help the frustration that begins to bubble up inside of you.

“No, Ona,” you try again, “she’s really pretty. Like, I would kiss her.” 

Ona frowns, then. “Don’t be one of those.” She means the girls who experiment, who toe the line of liking girls but don’t, not really. She has been warned about them by her older teammates, the ones who go out for drinks and kiss girls in clubs. The budding footballer really admires them, because their advice is always good and she gets to explore her sexuality without feeling like a creep. No one in Vilassar de Mar cares much that Ona does like girls, but it doesn’t stop her from feeling judged all the same. 

You are one of her best friends, but Ona isn’t sure she can forgive you if you become someone like that. 

“I’m not! I wouldn’t do that.” Your offence is suspicious, and you have been so caught up in destroying her worries that the ball has been dropped and is now rolling towards Ona’s feet, where it is instinctively flicked upwards and caught. “I wouldn’t, Oni, because I know it’s unfair to you guys.” 

“But you want to kiss my cousin? That makes you interested in girls in general too, you know.” 

You bite your lip. 

“Ona, I think I’m gay.” 

The ball is dropped, along with her jaw, and you shift uncomfortably in your seated position, not enjoying how big of a deal she is making this out to be. 

People realise that they’re gay all the time! Why should it be any different for you? 

“Oh,” is all Ona can manage to breathe out, wondering what to do next. Although your friendship cracks the padlocks of most secrets, there is one that hasn’t ever been shared. One that now means substantially more than it did five minutes ago. 

“Say something, please,” you groan in mock annoyance, moving aside your textbooks so that you can grab Ona’s hand and pull her down on top of you. She is much stronger – she trains every day – but something about your skin touching hers injects a surge of patheticness into her well-earned muscles, and she falls, of course she does, because she always falls for you. 

…

A year passes. 

You kiss Ona’s cousin, as intended, and Ona knows the breakup is going to be rough but nothing prepares her for when it comes. 

She’s conflicted, and she’s older now. No longer left behind by her teammates, Ona gets to go out with them when they don’t have football; she gets to talk to the girls about their sex lives, she gets to be involved in it all. She has met Alexia Putellas and been treated like an equal, and she made out with her fourth ever girl last week, this time progressing past tongues and confidently letting her hands roam. 

Ona would say that she has learnt a lot since you dropped your nuclear missile, and she has managed to forget the initial hope she had felt. The secret had been near-faded. 

Until you are calling her, sending her a text when she doesn’t reach her phone quick enough.

‘Ona, I really need you.’ 

She hears nothing from her cousin – they were closer when they were younger – and that, she reasons, is why she is by your side in an instant, meeting you at the windy beach you go to when you are sad, hair damp from running and eyes a little wide as she tries to wake herself up. 

“She said she can’t do it anymore,” you whisper, voice cracking under the strain your sobs had put on it. “She said that she really likes me but that it’s not enough, and she doesn’t want to break my heart but she knows she has to.” 

Ona doesn’t get a chance to respond, because you have flung yourself into her chest before she can think of the right words to say. 

Your shoulders shake as you cry, devastating howling joining the whistles of the wind and the thrash of the waves. The sand is unsteady beneath your feet and you stumble, but Ona holds you firmly, as though she has only ever trained to hold you up. Though you feel her biceps, hard and significantly larger than the last time she had held you this way, you are too caught up in your first heartbreak to acknowledge the tiny, tiny spark between you. 

As you cry and cry and cry, Ona can’t help but feel a little bitter towards her cousin. Clearly, your affection wasn’t false and, though it was working towards the severance of your friendship, you actually cared quite a lot for her. 

Ona chooses to abstain from her jealousy because she is embarrassed that it is possible. 

She is there for you the next day, ensuring you have eaten and allowing you to sleep, but the sun soon sets and Ona vows one thing to herself: she will not take advantage of it. 

“I’m going home,” you mumble when you wake from your restless nap, rolling over into the empty space in your best friend’s bed. The sheets there are cold and unused. Ona must not have moved a muscle since you fell asleep. “My parents must be a little confused, and we have people coming over for dinner. Thank you for looking after me.” 

“No problem.” Ona nods and you awkwardly stand up. “I think I’m going out with the team tonight, but don’t hesitate to call me if… Well, if you feel sad again.” 

“It’s going to feel shit with or without you.” 

You are trying to distance her, to tell her that she can have fun. It might be an issue that your friendship only seems to work when the two of you discuss your recent conquests or latest flings, but it is not one that either of you wants to address for now. 

“I’m just making sure you know I’m here,” she defends indignantly, rolling her eyes at the glimpse of your happier self making its return. 

“Are you going to be drunk?” Your question is pointed and you should really cross your arms and tap your foot impatiently to match your tone. “Don’t you have training tomorrow?” 

“Maybe, and not tomorrow, no. I’ve been asked to join the first team the day after so they’ve given me an alternative rest day.” 

“Ona, if you get drunk, you won’t be there for me at all. You’ll have your tongue down some poor, poor girl’s throat and your phone will be dead.” You laugh from experience, having grown accustomed to how she behaves under the influence. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I swear that alcohol is what fuels your hormones. I’m not going to burden you with my fucking pathetic crying, and, well, you know me, I’ll just find a boy to talk to. I am going to be fine.” 

No one in the room is convinced. 

You swat the air between you two, telling her to get on with getting ready. “Now, enjoy your night, and tell me all about it tomorrow morning!” 

Ona wonders if you are over-compensating by insisting to hear about whoever she has gotten off with, but you are practically flying out the door the minute you have said goodbye to her family and she is stumbling around her room trying to find a clean bra. Life goes on. 

If time did not tick on its own, one of you would task yourselves with turning the hands of the clock manually. 

You try to recover from how much it fucking kills to have a girl break your heart by reminding yourself of your worth in the best way possible: male attention. They hound you, but you enjoy it. You crave it, most of the time, even if the feelings are never quite believably reciprocated. 

It annoys Ona to no end, the way you play with the boys chasing after you. She hates the push and pull, fed-up with the constant complaining from your end. Often, because Ona speaks her mind when she can, she tells you that it’s not fair on the ones who hand their hearts to you only to watch you pierce through them with sharp, I-was-never-a-lesbian nails. 

You don’t talk about her cousin. At least, not to Ona because you have been informed by some other friend that blood is thicker than water.

Or maybe it’s because Ona begins to avoid you, begins to spend more time with her teammates, who don’t hide their sexuality and who like the things she likes. (Once, in a hateful frenzy, Ona thinks to herself that the only thing the two of you have in common nowadays is that she likes you and you like you too.) 

“What happened to your best friend?” Laia Aleixandri asks thoughtfully once after training. Ona is helping her collect the water bottles the other girls had left lying around on the pitch. There have been more injuries than what’s comfortable within the first team, and maybe some of the reserves have forgotten that they are not yet professionals. “You’ve stopped talking about her.” 

“We’ve fallen out,” Ona answers, settling on that because she doesn’t know how else to describe the shift in your relationship. 

“Over what?” comes Laia’s obvious sequential question, more a due dalliance than genuine interest. Laia is one of those girls who plays to play and can sometimes be too busy to spend time with the team outside of training. Because of this, she is largely unaware of Ona’s growing reputation within the squad. As Ona has grown up, her confidence has increased. Girls like that, and they are in plentiful supply to her. She no longer needs to be drunk, but something almost certainly occurs if she is. 

“She dated my cousin and, I don’t know, the way she acted in the fall-out was horrible. She likes girls, I know she likes girls, but I think she has been scarred and her ego has been bruised. No boy has ever made her cry like that, and I think she’s traumatised. And it’s valid! I understand, completely and totally, but she is acting as though she never had a thing with my cousin and it’s annoying. It’s as if being gay is a joke to her.”

Laia senses that Ona’s not done, and she is correct to think so. 

The next wave is this: “Laia, I really don’t agree with it, and it is hurting me. It hurts to see my cousin be messed around by a straight girl, it hurts to see my best friend hate part of herself, and it hurts me because, well, it just– it just does! I can’t explain it.” She can; she doesn’t want to. Her secret is still heavily guarded and it is going to take more than Laia asking about you to get her to confess. “I just want peace for everyone involved,” she says after taking a deep, diplomatic breath. 

“Peace,” Laia repeats with a giggle. “Ona, the things I have heard about you are the opposite of ‘peace’. Aita’s been keeping me in the loop, and she says that–” 

“Okay, Laia, I don’t need a lecture.” 

What probably would have been very helpful for Ona to know is lost to the devastating final blow of her eye-roll as she jogs to the water cooler to return the bottles and head home. 

…

The reconciliation of a decade-old friendship is fast and natural. Things do not quite go back to normal, and the two of you are not as close as before, but your group of friends at school breathe out a collective sigh of relief when the ice thaws and Ona starts to turn up to their gatherings instead of the ones held by her beloved blaugranas. 

It’s a camping trip. 

Their first year of bach has ended, and someone – Ona doesn’t know who – has suggested a camping trip because her grandfather’s brother owns a farm and the farm has a field and the field is far-removed enough for the smell of cigarettes and red-label whiskey to dissolve before reaching the house. 

“Are we really going?” Ona asks, making you all laugh as you haul your bags and tents along the tractor path. 

“I do think we should’ve gotten in the tractor,” you agree. Ona nods at you, thanking you for your support. 

Everyone else says it’s good fitness, and then hurls insults at Ona for the remainder of the trek because she should be the last to complain if she is going to become a professional athlete. 

It’s not as far as it seems, and the tents are set up quickly, along with some chairs, a foldable table, and a hefty stash of various bottles of alcohol. 

You start smoking the minute someone flashes their lighter, and Ona uses that as a reason to stay on the other side of the small campsite for a good hour or so. 

She stays away from you no matter how much you stare, but you watch her all the same. 

The boys you talk to are not satisfying. Some may have innocent intentions but the majority don’t, and you know that you are pretty but you are not shallow like that. You don’t even meet the boys half the time unless they corner you at school and demand a slot of your in-person attention.

The boys you talk to explain football and the gym and why they have to play FIFA until the sun rises because it will definitely help Barcelona win on the weekend. They take you for an idiot, and they hardly acknowledge that your best friend (sort of) plays for their darling club so of course you know the rules and the positions. You know that Ona is a defender, and that she is good at it. You don’t want to be patronised and you don’t care about this kind of thing unless it involves Ona. 

Therein lies the issue, actually. 

You don’t care about much unless it involves Ona. Ona, who sways to the music bursting out from the speakers just as stiffly as she always has, not exactly blessed with dancing talent but not for lack of trying. Ona, who declines alcohol tonight because she is following a summer strength and conditioning programme with the hopes of playing in the first team’s preseason matches. Ona, who looks beautiful. Always. 

Smoke billows from your cigarette, right towards the point of your focus, and, suddenly, doe-like eyes are staring back at you with a small, small smirk. She waves, as if to say that she has caught you, and you lean back on the camping chair you are slouched in, pretending to laugh at whatever your friend has just said beside you.

Later, when everyone else is knocked out from the bad quality of the whiskey, snoring comfortably in the other tents, Ona and you kiss. And once you start kissing, you don’t stop. 

Ona is good at this, you assume, because she knows exactly what to do. Contrary to popular belief, you are far more active in theory than in practice, and she surprises you a little bit. Or maybe she doesn’t, because it’s Ona and Ona is good at everything. 

You strive to match her, and you do by the time you finish school. 

Sporadic, non-committal, and in complete disregard for your friendship, the arrangement of hooking up when you feel like it sees you out of Catalonia, with Ona naturally in tow. 

Madrid CFF is happy to have her, and you quite enjoy the challenge of the Spanish capital. It’s not Barcelona, it’s not ideal, but change is good and you need space to explore who you are without watchful eyes and nosy gossipers. 

Homophobia isn’t quite a thing in your family. Your parents are not radically against gay people. In fact, you’d say they are relatively supportive. However, that doesn’t stop you from feeling some discomfort. You lived through Ona’s struggle to come out, and her parents are ever more care-free than yours. 

Madrid is a brand-new place, and word about how you are doing is easily controlled. Updates come from either you or Ona, and that means there is a filter easily applied to all anecdotes. 

Your friends know about the sex, more or less. They know, they don’t approve, but they let you guys sort it out yourselves because everyone agrees that that is just how you and Ona are. They won’t understand it and they have given up on trying to.

Both of you make half-hearted efforts to separate the arrangement from your friendship. You don’t talk much afterwards until the other has left the realm of I-am-in-love-with-you. It’s nice to be in Madrid together, but you find different social circles soon enough and then you are reaching out more for sex than friendly activities and… You stop sleeping with each other upon the footballer’s request. She wants to focus on her career, on her success. She tells you over the phone because she cannot bring herself to end whatever occurred over the last two years in person, knowing that she’d take back her decision in a heartbeat. Ona really, really likes football, and she knows that she has to become obsessed with it to get to the top; more obsessed than she is now. How can she do that if you are distracting her? 

You’re disappointed, but you respect her wishes. 

Girls in Madrid stop seeming as shiny. The world is a bit duller, because although there had been no exclusivity between you and your best friend, there had always been that guarantee that the other would be ready and waiting. Your growing misery makes studying boring, and you find answers for your emotions in a science textbook, desperately running away from the obvious truth. Less sex means that you are unhappier. It’s biology. 

It’s not a crush. 

Not on Ona. 

No. 

And it’s certainly not this not-realisation that flies you to Milan the minute a modelling agency inquires about whether you have ever thought of, well, modelling. They scout you someplace random, and your mother claims that she could have helped you start your career earlier if only you’d have been interested. 

When you explain to your best friend what you are moving for, she is oddly unsurprised and uncaring. Her reaction is sickening, because you’d have rathered her get an ego boost from having slept with a model than be so fucking apathetic. 

“I’m going to Milan, Ona,” you repeat, just in case she has not heard you. “I’m moving. We did the trial shoots last week, and they loved me. They want me to update my social media and work on building up a following, and they said that I should start learning English because I might end up in New York.” 

“That’s good. I’m happy for you.” She doesn’t sound like she means it, and you grow annoyed about how she is not even trying to sound enthusiastic. 

“Can’t you be happy for me? Or is it only acceptable for you to have dreams?” 

“I am happy for you, I just said that.” 

“The words left your mouth, but they definitely did not come from your heart.” 

“You’re being dramatic.” Ona rolls her eyes and the pent-up sexual tension builds and builds until the bottle it has been shoved into can no longer withstand the pressure. You haven’t argued since you moved to Madrid, which makes no sense considering you literally broke up – even if it absolutely wasn’t dating. Neither of you has processed your broken heart, and you’re pretty sure you are still too traumatised from the first girl you fell in love with to be capable of revisiting those kinds of emotions. 

Ona hasn’t had sex in weeks, and it is affecting her performance. She can’t sleep if she has the energy she does, and she can’t get through her workouts because not sleeping makes her lose her appetite and then she does not have the energy to complete them. Her coaches are worried, but they know that she is young and though almost idiotic, they mostly assume that she is repulsed by the idea of playing for a club in Madrid. They get that a lot with the Catalans that come over from La Masia, whose dreams have been delayed because the first team had thought it necessary that they gained more experience elsewhere. 

Ona has wanted to shout and scream every minute of every day, and so have you. Therefore, everything explodes. 

…

You inhale deeply, exhaling when it feels as though some of the stress has dissipated. This casting is one of the more important ones of the week. It’s odd to be judged on your appearance, to be paid for it, but it has been almost a year since you moved to Milan and you are enjoying yourself. 

You don’t miss university, and you don’t miss your parents. Your friends visit you lots, loving the idea of your career, loving the excuse to escape their dreary weekends in where they have always been. 

Milan is great. You make friends with a few other models, though they come and go depending on work, and the more experience you get, the more your following count goes up. Brands send you things, nice things, and events start extending invites to lure you into the glamour of the industry. 

Milan is great, you tell yourself on repeat. 

Milan is great, but it would be better if Ona were here. 

Milan is great, but you regret the way you left things and want to take it all back. 

Milan is great but– 

“Your fitting is tomorrow,” says the assistant, reading off her iPad. You suppress your wandering thoughts, nodding. You need this job, you need the money to pay for a flight. The agency has given you some advancements – an impressive thing, apparently – but not enough to cover the cost of the ticket to New York for the start of Fashion Week. This show will fluff out your experience, and increase your chances of walking at one of the bigger shows. 

You’ve been told that you are quite a good model; attractive, funny, with just the right amount of personality to be both a mannequin and an interesting figure. 

The lifestyle is different but good, and you realise that you’d never wanted the mundanity of studying and then working and selling your soul to some kind of tall office building. Not everyone gets the concept of living away from home, especially not those from your tight-knit community who think the city is stretching the distance slightly (the train works, you can live with your parents and have a good job – you’ve been told that a few times), but you don’t mind. You can explain it as much as you want and they would still be confused. 

You stay in touch, but you don’t stay present. 

As your career snowballs over the next two years, you pull away from your home, always on a flight, always busy. You go to LA and Paris and London, and you rent your flat in Milan out as an Airbnb whenever you’re not there. You love the city, you start to think of it as yours, and slowly but surely, everything else fades into the background. 

Apart from Ona, of course. Your friends still visit, or you meet up with them if you ever find yourself in Barcelona, and they continue to affirm just how proud they are of you. They talk about her a lot, too; about where she’s playing now, about injuries and fame and representing Spain. They know you are too stubborn to search it up for yourself, but these are the people who have grown up with you: they know you would like to be informed. 

When you hear that Ona has moved to Manchester, you don’t quite think your actions through. 

You have had enough. You miss her terribly.

Her number has changed, but someone passes it onto you. 

You: I saw that you’re playing Arsenal next week. I’ll be in London then. Do you want to get a coffee? 

Ona takes her time replying, but that is only because she wants to delay the inevitable. 

Her eyes shine and her hair is damp, but the kick-off had been early and you don’t have anything to do today. You meet her in the carpark, picking her up in a black BMW that’s sleek and shiny and 100% not yours. Her laugh is light and free as she knocks on the driver’s window and juts her thumb out, instructing you to swap. 

“I’m not getting in a car that you’re driving,” she declares seriously, though you know she has forgiven you because she would not have agreed to meet if she hadn’t. “Come on, I checked on Maps and there’s a place not too far from here that looks nice. And it’s empty, so don’t worry about the paparazzi.” 

“The paparazzi are not after me,” you shut down quickly, not wanting her to think you are a bigger deal than what you are. Successful, yes. Famous? Not so much. “One day it’ll be you worrying about them, when you’re all grown up.” 

“I’m twenty-one!” 

It comes out so whiny and childish that you burst into a fit of giggles. Ona is proud to have made you laugh. 

You don’t kiss her, but you’d like to. Then again, maybe it’s better to just be friends. 

[renjiokumura]

Poor, Unfortunate Me:

Chapter 3

Summary: What if Ben didn’t fall in love with Mal? Find out the answer in Poor, Unfortunate Me. A story about the lesser known and evil second daughter of Ursula and how she gets the love she has been searching for her whole life.

A/N: I'm doing this off my phone so if the formatting is funky, it's because I'm not on my laptop. Also I didn't add a collage this time, and I might not in the future, because I think y'all understand the look I was going for and have a great imagination for these things.

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 (You're Here) / 4 (Coming Soon)

As soon as you got back to your dorm and Evan saw you crying, she asked what was wrong and tried to calm you down. You told her what happened while twisting the truth to protect the others. She just held you and told you everything would be better. To make you feel more relaxed, she broke out some hidden treats and some self spa tools, saying she was going to pamper you.

15 minutes into the mini spa, you already felt 100 times better.

“Thanks Evan. This is the first time I've ever done a spa.” you say with an avocado mask on your face, laying on your bed with Evan right next to you.

With the same avocado mask on her face and 2 cucumber slices on her eyes, Evan says, “I can't believe you’ve never done this before. Not even with your sister?”

You sit up and look at your lap, taking a moment before you answer her question.

“No, she can't stand me, because I'm too soft. Family is not the same on the Isle as it is here. Just cause we're related doesn't mean you have to love or care for each other. You got to look out for yourself.” Your voice is heavy with years of loneliness. When you don't hear anything from Evan but a sniffle, you look to the side to see what's wrong.

Evan, with her adorable self, has tears running down her face full of avocado while she sticks a cucumber in her mouth. She sits up and while chewing the cucumber slice, she says, “That's so sad! I'll be your new sister!” you don't want to laugh, but the scene in front of you makes it hard.

“Why are you laughing? I mean it. I want to be your sister!” She says with the other slice of cucumber in her mouth. It makes you laugh harder, which results in her pouting like a little child.

After a minute you finally calm down enough to talk to her. “I'm sorry. I've never seen something so funny,” she gives you a look, “And sweet. I want to be your sister too. Come here.” you open up your arms for a hug and she takes it.

When you guys pull apart from the hug you both look each other up and down then bust out laughing. During the hug, you guys got avocado all over each other. It was all on both of your clothes. “I trust that you won't freak out when I do this.” Before she can question what you mean, you say a little spell, flick your wrist, and all the avocado is gone.

“OMG, you have magic!?” she excitedly said. You nodded ‘yes’, which resulted in a squeal from her. Her excitement was infectious and made you giddy too.

The rest of the night you guys played around with magic, until you guys fell asleep. But during your good time, the others were making a love potion cookies among other things.

After Lonnie left the kitchen, Mal put the cookies in the oven. In the silence of the kitchen the tension between the group was almost palpable, but Carlos soon broke it.

“Mal, what you said back there to Y/N was very uncalled for. Just because you and her sister have beef doesn't mean you can take it out on her.” Evie and Jay nodded to what Carlos said.

Mal is trying to hold her ground by staring Carlos down, but the guilt is too much. She huffs defeated and looks to her feet. “I know! I know… It’s just we have a mission to complete and if we don't,” she pauses looking up at the others equally frightened faces, then continues, “I don't want to think about if we don't.” The air is heavy with emotions.

The same thoughts all go through their minds in the silence of the room. They all started liking Auradon, but they wouldn’t say it out loud to each other. Here they could do and be whoever and whatever they wanted to be without worry of judgment or consequences. But when they thought about it they don't belong here. They had to remind themselves they were evil and belong to the Isle. Though, in reality, none of that was true.

They had been so lost in their thoughts, that when the timer broke the deafening silence, they all collectively jumped in surprise. They all shared a look before they all walked over to see how the cookies came out.

Mal takes out the cookies and places them on the prep table. “I think these are ready. So do we all know what the plan is for tomorrow?” They all nodded in unison.

After cleaning up, they make their way back to their dorm rooms. Jay and Carlos get to their room first, which leaves Evie and Mal to still get back to their room. When they finally get back, Evie stops Mal before she enters the room.

“You are going to apologize to Y/N, right? Just because we are evil doesn't mean we don't have manners.” Evie can understand where Y/N is coming from and hopefully Mal can too.

“Yeah, Yeah. Only so we can make her our ally again.” Evie knew Mal was actually doing it because Isle kids stick together, but if it helped Mal sleep at night she wasn't going to say anything.

When morning rolled around you felt like something good was going to happen, but it was going to have bad consequences. Letting that thought linger in the back of your mind, you thought about how first period would go after what went down. At least you knew that if Mal came after you again, Evan was coming after her. Yup, reassuring.

Evan was nice enough to walk you to your first period class, since you usually went with the others. When you got there, everyone looked at you, with sorry written all over their faces. Evie put her hand on Mal's shoulder, which prompted Mal to get out of her seat and walk over to you.

When she was finally standing in front of you, Evan stepped forward eyeing up Mal like she wasn't Maleficent’s daughter. “If you hurt my sister,” she points her thumb over her shoulder at you, “I’ll hurt you.” Your surprised by the protective nature of Evan, but let her do her thing.

Mal’s surprised too, but also impressed, so she tells Evan she understands. With that Evan hugs you goodbye and walks to her class. Once Mal has you alone, she says something you'd never expect from her. An apology.

“I want to say sorry about yesterday. What I said was not cool. Can you forgive me?” she asks, looking at you expectantly.

“Water under the bridge. Now let's get to learning.” She smirks at you, and you guys walk to your seats.

During break the group tells you about the love potion plan and you agree to help as much as possible. It hurts you to help destroy any and all chances of getting Ben, but you still feel obligated to help them and something is telling you to do so too. They tell you the plan is going to happen after school at Mal’s locker, so you just wait till then.

When the bell rings ending school, you shoot up out of your seat and run out of class since Mal’s locker is on the other side of school. This causes Evan to follow you, though. You guys always walk from 5th period back to your dorm, so she thought something had to be wrong

By running, you made it just in time. Ben had just taken a bite out of the cookie, when something roughly bumps into you, sending you into Ben’s arms.

Ben is looking down into your eyes and is holding you against his body to keep you from falling.

“Y/N, are you okay?” You nodded too speechless and dazed to verbally answer. The next thing Ben ask you truly knocks you out more than the mystery object that got you the first time.

“But did it hurt?” his slight pause gives you a chance to be confused, then he finishes. “When you fell from heaven?” At that cheesy pick-up line, everyone's jaw dropped, especially yours. You honestly couldn't believe your ears.

“Ben, Are you okay?” You ask ,being able to finally stand on your own legs, but Ben still has his arms wrapped around your thick waist.

“I'm fine, but not as fine as you, sweet thang.” he says with a love struck smile on his face which you promptly covered with your hands so he would stop flirting.

“Jay can you pull him off me, please?” Jay comes to your rescue and gently pries him off of you. Once Jay has him, he asks Ben, “Has your world been worked?”

The answer to Jay's question comes in the form of a song lyric. Looking you in the eyes, Ben sings, “You know you do.” (quoting one of Michael Jackson’s songs). At that you become flustered and turn around, not wanting to drag out your embarrassment.

When you turn around to see what pushed you into Ben, you see Evan.“Evan, what are you doing here?” she opened her mouth to answer, but you interrupted her. “Wait, were you the reason I fell into Ben?” When you said that, she became a little sheepish as she answered.

“Yes,” she whispered, “But I was only running in behind you to see if you were Ok because you left class so suddenly...sorry.” Hearing her explanation only made you smile. You could never be mad at her.

“There's no need to be sorry. You were concerned about me and I appreciate that you care enough to check up on me.” With that said you hugged her. During your talk with Evan, the boys left to get ready for their game.

Once you pull out of your hug, you look towards Mal and Evie and see they both have an urgent look on their faces. “Uh, you want to go to the field and save us some seats in the bleachers?” you ask Evan nervously. She nods ‘yes’ and runs off to the game.

“What was that?!” Mal asked incredulously.

“I’m so sorry guys. It was an accident. I tripped,” you said apologetically, “But you can fix this right?”

“No, there is no time. You’ll just have to become his girlfriend.” She said nonchalantly.

“Wait, what?!” your jaw was practically hitting the floor.

You guess this was the good thing that you felt coming, but unfortunately you knew it was going to end badly.

[troop-scoop]

Youth I

Chapter One -  Pilot

Word count: 2k

Series Summary: On a family trip to your dad’s home town of Hawkins, Indiana, you make a series of decisions that result in you ending up in the year 1983 with more questions than there are answers presently available. 

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Reader ( slow burn ) 

Chapter Summary: You go through what’s become your new ‘normal’ at Hawkins High School

⟛⟛

Nothing about your current situation was settling right in your stomach. There were no answers as to how you got here, and you didn’t have any questions that could easily be answered. A series of unfortunate events resulted in the attitude you carried. You used to be sweet, all smiles and laughter unless someone did something to make you upset.

What happened to that girl? The girl who grew up never experiencing fear to the point where it worried her parents and made teachers concerned because she’d climb so high on the playground that if you fell, you’d surely break something.

You’d climbed so high on something, and you fell into this situation, and something did break. Your bravery, your fearlessness, nothing physical, but those two things were shattered, and your ego bruised.

Nothing was like what you were used to. To you, everything in this school hallway was dated. The fashion, the haircuts, the textbooks, and the tech.

The stereotypes.

“L/n!”

You shook your head, already knowing whose voice that was. A teenage boy who fit the typical ‘jock’ stereotype that everyone knew. The kid who hated his small town, he got around, played a sport his father probably hated, who would likely never get out of said small town he hated. Yeah, you knew the pattern. Everyone, where you were from, did.

“No.”

You continued on your trek to the locker, but you could hear the slight squeaking of the soles of the older boy’s Nikes on the linoleum floor trying to catch up. Where you were from, people would be staring at this type of occurrence, but because none of the students surrounding you even batted an eye at the basketball player or you for that matter, told you that it wasn’t abnormal for him to be audacious.

“Hey now, I just wanna talk.” He defended, finally catching up to you, walking alongside, but a little bit behind so he didn’t get in anyone’s way.

“Harrington, the last time you wanted to ‘talk’ was when you needed my math homework.” A chuckle escaped you as you said it, finally stopping at your locker.

“In my defense, you don’t look like a sophomore.” He tried, standing next to you as you were spinning the knob in the locker to get it open.

“Whatever, what do you want?”

“Wow, you’re grumpy. Anyways, Tommy H, Carol, and I wanna hang out but my parents don’t leave for another week, and we can’t be at Carol’s place because her mom hates Tommy, and well, you know how Tommy’s dad is.”

You hummed in amusement. “Yeah, he’s a dick, how does that involve me?” You had your binder and pencil case in one arm, staring at him with your hand inside of your locker, holding onto the cup of coffee.

“Can we hang out at your place?”

Rolling your eyes you kneeled down, placing your things down on the ground before standing upright, grabbing the collar of his jacket and pulling it towards your locker, placing it inside before closing the door on it. “Not happening.” You responded, a bright smile on your face as you grabbed your things, taking a step to walk away.

“Y/n! This isn’t funny!”

“I’m gonna correct you on that, it’s not funny to you.” The situation was probably the funniest thing you’d encountered in weeks, and considering your day to day life before used to be full of laughter and playfully teasing, that then went to quiet days spent alone and pondering, this was a nice change.

“Unlock it or I’ll tell Mrs. Jensen!”

Steve’s threat caused you to laugh, holding your things closer so you didn’t drop any of them. “A tattletale? You always did strike me as the type to tease kids in elementary school, but you never did seem like a snitch, you do know the saying right? About snitches?”

“Yeah, from you!” he responded, and although he had a serious face, you knew he was fighting back a smile as well by his voice and how his brows weren’t furrowed in frustration or anger.

“Snitches are bitches, who get stitches and end up in ditches.” it wasn’t intentional for both of you to say it at the same time, but you had, but in two very different tones of voice. Your’s was more ‘matter of fact’ and he was amused.

You stared at him for a second, your smile remaining before you stepped forward,  turning the dial of your lock to open it, and once you lifted the lever for the door, Steve got himself out, standing up straight and staring down at you, his hands finding the pockets of his jacket as you closed the locker door again. “That wasn’t fair, you look innocent,” he mumbled to himself.

“I’ll see you later?” Steve asked after a second.

“We have study hall together, so. . . maybe,” you told him, stepping away from the locker and heading down the hallway to your English class.

Bulletin boards on the walls, spaced out between each other, with thumbtacks keeping flyers and announcements up for students to see, lockers for students to keep their things throughout the day. It was all odd.

At your previous schools, lockers weren’t available. That was until your freshman year where you had to pay five dollars a year if you wanted one. And instead of bulletin boards, flyers and announcements would just be taped to the walls, or given during morning announcements, or emailed to students and parents. You were pretty sure your previous high school got rid of lockers in the late ’90s when drugs became prominent in your area and then got rid of bulletin boards when one student sent the other to the hospital with a thumbtack to the wrist, but those types of stories always had a few details in them that never made sense, allowing you to cast doubt on them. But maybe the story had just been told so many times that detail got twisted, the truth of what happened got misconstrued. Like a game of telephone.

Reaching the English classroom, you found your seat, with your anxiousness rising as you sat down, placing your coffee at the upper corner of your small desk, keeping your school supplies close to your chest.

You’d been a happy kid growing up. You didn’t have very many friends, but you had your parents, your little brother, and a condo that you’d been brought home to as a newborn that you knew was a safe place. Unlike the few friends you did have, you never really experienced anxiety or symptoms of depression, but you knew the signs, your closest friend, Mandy, dealt with it, and she confided in you often about how it felt and what it was like, and you often did your own research on it to know what you could to help her.

There were weekends where you spent a good few hours learning different breathing techniques to help her whenever she would have a panic attack, but now that you were dealing with moments where your heart sped up, your hands shook and you felt like something was terribly wrong, it was like all of those hours had been a waste because you couldn’t use them without getting more anxious.

“You okay?”

Looking to your left, you were met with a curious glance from your partner on the English project. Giving an unconvincing nod, you looked down at the top of your desk, eyes tracing over the wood pattern, lines connecting that looked like they shouldn’t, forming shapes and allowing you to distract yourself as Jonathan set his things down as well, taking his seat next to you.

Mrs. Jensen went over the usual, giving instructions for the project that everyone already knew, before leaving everyone to work, with her sitting behind her desk, a book in hand and a container of what you assumed were grapes by the purplish color. Though they could have been large blueberries.

“What’s so important about a quote?” Jonathan mumbled to himself, though it caught your attention from your own worksheet, looking over to him.

“In what context?” you asked, taking a sip from your drink as he began speaking.

“We’re talking about Romeo and Juliet, everyone knows what it’s about, you don’t really need a quote to explain things.”

You nodded when he looked over to you. “A lot of people only really know that it was written by Shakespeare and it’s about two star crossed lovers who kill themselves in the end. Mrs. Jensen probably knew that’s all anyone really remembers, she wants to make sure people know what’s actually happening.

“It’s pretty obvious, ‘Romeo, oh Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?’ she’s asking where he is.” He shrugged a bit, placing the book down on the desk, pages open and light reflecting off of the glossy pages.

“No, she’s not,” you told him, getting an odd and questioning look from him. “Well, this was written in the 1500s, English is practically a new language at that point, getting its own footing for once, paintings of historical figures wouldn’t have the English spelling of their names, and English is a language that’s taken a bunch of different parts from other languages, mostly german. If you ever see a period piece that’s set around this period of time, if a child says ‘lady mother’ when they’re addressing their mom, they’re not acknowledging that their mother is a female. They’re acknowledging her title. So her husband is likely a lord of a piece of land, which makes her the lady of that land as well. It was an archaic way of showing respect to their mother by also saying she had a title.”

“How does that relate to the quote?”

“Well, early modern English had many different phrases, and things have changed, we’ve come up with ways to say things that are far more simple. While we think she’s asking where Romeo is, she’s actually asking why he’s Romeo. Why out of all the people she could have fallen for, it had to be him. The enemy. You could use that in the analysis, a bit of how it shows we don’t choose who we love, even if we know we shouldn’t love them.”

Jonathan blinked before looking at his worksheet, picking up his pencil and writing something down, paraphrasing what you had just said and only moments later the bell rang, signaling the end of the class period.

You grabbed your things, leaving as quickly as you could without looking like an idiot, trying to get away from what caused you to be so nervous and make you feel like you could be sick at any moment.

Growing up, you weren’t afraid of many things if any. But maybe you just needed something like this to make you afraid of everything and anything around you. To make you jump at the sound of a drop of water from outside your motel window landing on the metal railing of the stairs and walkway.

But you were terrified, and you wanted to wake up in your own bed, at home, with your dad gently shaking your shoulder to get you up and out of bed. You were terrified you’d never see your parents again, that you’d been too mean to your little brother growing up, and that the last memory he’d have of you was you being mean.

You hadn’t even been afraid to sleep on your own as a kid, and all the things that you weren’t afraid of as a child that you should have been, always seemed to worry your dad. But what would he say and think now? Would he be worried now that you lived in a constant state of fear? Just looking at clothing racks scared you.

Since July you’d been trying to act normal, trying to pretend everything was okay, trying to be your normal self, but your normal self would be odd to everyone else, you knew random things no one else did, you liked things no one even knew about yet, and if you tried to talk about those things, you knew it wouldn’t be a good outcome, not a sour one, but not happy.

⟛⟛

Add yourself to the taglist!

tagging who i know would want to be - 

@stonersteve​ @ilovebucketbarnes​

[obxwhore]

The Night It Happened - Chapter One

Summary: It’s been two years since Ariana West, the fifth member of the Pogues vanished out of nowhere. After months of searching, they had no choice but to give up and her disappearance was left a mystery to her family and her best friends. After having the summer of their lives, the four remaining Pogues are met with shock when their missing friend stumbles into John B’s backyard, bloody and bruised. Ariana having no recollection of where she had been, and the group having very little trust with the law enforcement of Outer Banks, they rush to find out what happened to Ariana before it happens again.

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Cursing, violence, mentions of kidnapping, mentions and images of abuse.

A/N: Hello! Thank you guys so much for the positive reception I’ve been getting from the prologue. I was really nervous to put my writing out there, so it really means a lot. This is the first official chapter. I’ve written and rewritten it probably around four or five times and I’m pretty happy with the end result. Let me know what you guys think! I’m still trying to figure out where I want to go with the story, but I’ll try to keep updates as consistent as possible.

 Find the prologue here: https://obxwhore.tumblr.com/post/620367150401585152/the-night-it-happened-prologue

Two Years Later; the Winter after the Treasure Hunt.

John B sat in a hammock in front of his house, watching his breath escape his mouth in clouds as it entered the cool air of a North Carolina winter. John B didn’t very much like cold weather, much preferring the feeling of crisp Atlantic waves on a hot summer day. But for some reason, he was content with the icy feeling of this year’s twilight. Perhaps it was because the cold reminded him of emptiness, the feeling that has been stalking him since he and Sarah returned from sea, gold-less. Disappointment flooded his veins every time he looked at a photo of his late father, feeling like a letdown. A failure. Drowning in the idea of what could’ve been. Regardless, the love of his best friends and his girlfriend have kept him afloat. It kept him comfortable.

The voice of his best friend JJ Maybank invaded his ears as he tuned back into the conversation currently being held between the Pogues and Sarah.

“-and when Barry had us all on the side of the road with a gun pointed at us.” JJ said, laughter evading his lips as if the near death experience was the funniest thing to ever happen to him.

“Or when John B literally drove a boat into the middle of a tropical storm.” Pope added.  

“I’m just glad we’re all okay and alive.” John B muttered, not quite in the mood for reminiscing.

“We should go on another adventure,” JJ had a devilish smirk on his face, “I haven’t felt a rush like that since school started back up.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for a good reason.” Kiara added.

“Maybe you should just focus on getting good grades. That should be an adventure all on its own.” John B joked.

“Easy for you to say, high school drop out.” JJ threw back. John B hadn’t actually dropped out, he just opted to take all of his classes online. He couldn’t bear the thought of returning to school, life being just as boring as it was before. So he didn’t. Sarah had bought him a fancy new laptop so that he could get all of his work done and for the most part, he did.

“Think about it guys,” JJ continued, “the Pogues and the Kook, back in action!”

“And what do you suggest we do now? What kind of quest do you see for us, oh wise one?” Pope retorted.

“We could run drugs.” JJ suggested bluntly.

“I think not.” Kiara stated, not amused.

“I don’t think I can afford another ‘quote-on-quote’ adventure. Ever since I was emancipated, Sheriff Shoupe has been up my ass making sure I don’t mess up.” John B added. After the murder charges against John B were dropped, he fought with CPS tooth-and-nail to stay on the island. He got a job at a surf shop and makes just enough money to stay afloat.

Rafe Cameron ended up getting charged with the murder of Sheriff Peterkin and Wade Cameron got charged with the murder of John B’s father, attempted murder on John B, and a few other charges surrounding his involvement with the murder of Peterkin. The trials for the father-and-son duo are still in progress. As a result of Wade’s arrest, no one knows if the gold ever actually made it to Nassau and John B is positive that Wade will never tell him.

“Fine,” JJ huffed, “then I guess I’ll just close my eyes and relive last summer over and over again.”

“I wish Ariana was there to enjoy it with us.” Kiara hadn’t meant to say it out loud, it just slipped. A blanket of solemnness fell over the group as they thought about their missing friend. Sarah looked down, feeling awkward at the mention of the girl that used to be a part of the group. She wished she had been able to get to know Ariana. They had met a few times, but they had never gone past surface level conversation because of the Pogues vs Kooks war. With the way the Pogues talk about her, she was sure they would’ve been great friends.

“I miss her.” JJ added, looking down as if to hide his face from his friends. Everyone agreed with him. Life after Ariana was hollow, but at the same time, they always felt her with them. No matter what they’re doing or how long it’s been, she lives in the back of their heads as a distant memory; a beacon of light when the darkness start to take over. When JJ’s dad unleashes his rage onto him, she is there in his head to tell him that everything is going to be okay. When Pope is thrown around by stray kooks during his grocery runs, she is there in his head to help him fight them off. When Kiara needs someone to talk to, Ari is there to hold her hand and listen to her vent. And finally, when John B is feeling utterly alone, Ariana is there to remind his that he’s not. That’s their friend; not present, but always there.

As the others slowly fluttered back into normal conversation, John B became a victim of his thoughts once again. His mind raced with sporadic images of his lost friend. Flashes of long brown hair, white painted nails, a breathtaking smile. The smell of strawberry shampoo raiding his nostrils as soft arms envelope him in a warm hug. Moments shared between them that he cherished more than anything in the world. His best friend.

A hand creeping onto his own shook him from his thoughts. But as he smiled reassuringly as Sarah, his girlfriend, all he could think about was the smell of strawberries.

•

•

•

Hours have gone by and the group is getting ready to say their goodbyes. The smell of burning wood is starting to give them headaches and it was getting pretty late, the moon shining bright in the sky now. JJ was staying the night at the Chateau, as he usually did. His dad sat like a stick of dynamite back at the Maybank house with JJ being the match needed to light it. Some nights, the blonde boy just couldn’t handle dealing with that. Pope wanted to stay over as well but ever since the event of summer, his dad had tightened the leash considerably. Kiara had to work early the next morning and Sarah felt like John B needed space.

Pope shot up off the hammock with a stretch, a yawn quickly following his movements. Kiara moved towards the radio softly playing music, reaching to turn it off and retire it back to the porch for the night. Unknown to the group, a girl was sluggishly making her way down John B’s street towards to Chateau. The color of crimson caked her face and body like paint on a canvas, fresh blood mixing with old. Dark bruises were polka dots on her body, shades of purple and brown swirling together to create an explosion of circles and handprints. There was dry dirt covering every inch of her body as if she had rolled in it all day.

When she made it to the front yard, she hugged her arms to her chest as the cold of the air began to really take its toll. A deep exhaustion settled on her leaving her ready to collapse, but she was determined to make it back to her friends. She had made it this far so she couldn’t stop now. She finally stumbled into the groups line of vision.

Kiara was the first one to notice. She let out a sharp, loud gasp as her hand flew to cover her mouth in shock. This brought the attention of everyone else. JJ followed her line of vision and has he reached the end, he paled to the color of paper as if he’d just seen a ghost. One-by-one, Pope, Sarah, and John B turned their heads and were greeted with the sight of their missing friend.

Tangled waist length brown hair cascaded down her shoulders, leaves and twigs stuck throughout. She was wearing a white tank top and baggy black pants, no shoes adorning her bare feet. The blood, dirt, and bruises were a plague to her body. She looked like she had literally crawled out of a cheap grave.

“Holy shit” John B took a step forward. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He and the rest of the Pogues had accepted a long time ago that Ariana was most likely dead. It had never seemed probable that she would ever come back, yet here she is.

“Holy shit!” John B repeated, louder this time, as he started to make his way towards the girl. Tears flowed freely down his face as emotions slammed through him. He thought he had lost his best friend forever, but here she was. He shrugged off his jacket, the frigid air giving him goosebumps, but he could not care less.

Once he reached her, he helped her get the jacket on. She started to become overwhelmed now, tears prickling her eyes as she felt warmth for the first time in two years. Everyone had the same feeling pooling through them at the sight of their friend: dread. The state of her being sent shivers down Kiara’s spine and JJ had to literally cover his mouth to keep down the bile that threatened to make itself known.

“What the fuck, Ari?” John B said, sobs racking his body now as he gently grabbed her hand.

“I’m sorry.” Ariana whispered, breaking her silence.

“You’re sorry?” John B questioned in disbelief. He couldn’t believe that she was apologizing for her own abduction, as if it were her fault.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” Kiara  added, bringing Ariana’s attention to everyone else once again.

As Ariana looked up at the rest of the group, the vivid emptiness swirling through her eyes hit them like a punch to the face. The once bright emerald eyes that gleamed with excitement were now dulled and clouded. The once strong, independent, free-spirited girl was now just a hollow shell of who she used to be. And as all of this dawned upon them, John B, Pope, Kiara, Sarah, and JJ all had one thought in their minds. They were going to find and kill whoever did this to their friend.

 Taglist: @thelovelydreamer17 @sunshine-27-grape-juice @starswin @minnie-mitzel

[outer-bnks]

Two Burning Hearts Are Dared to Break (JJ x OC) Ch. 8

Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Elle finds out bad news about the police investigation and calls Kie and Pope to help her decide whether to tell JJ or not. 

Warning: mentions of police

A/N: The Pogues don’t know that Rafe killed Sheriff Peterkin for the premise of this story so Elle and the others think he’s *innocent*.

Word count: 1.4k

The startling sound of Elle’s ringtone woke her from the deepest sleep she’d had the past few weeks. She’d only been able to sleep for 2 to 3 hours in bursts before waking up breathless and sweating from nightmares of the storm, so being disturbed in the middle of such a peaceful slumber irritated her. 

“Hey Dad, what’s up”, she answered, fumbling with her earring to calm her nerves after seeing his name appear on her phone.

“Hi Elle, I just got off the phone with the lawyer, and… it’s not looking too good”, he sighed. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What does that mean. “What? What are you talking about?”.

She heard her Dad let out a sigh before continuing, “Well, they’re continuing the investigation because they don’t believe you and Kie were the only ones who had anything to do with what went down. Especially with the trouble the boys have been in previously”.

Her head began to swim with all the negative possibilities that could happen. “Wait, are you telling me that JJ and Pope are getting investigated? On what evidence?”, she pushed.

“I’m not sure, Shoupe said and I quote that he ‘wasn’t allowed to disclose that’”.

“That’s bullshit!” she exclaimed, feeling herself getting angrier by the minute.

“I know darling. But he did tell me that JJ owes money, and has some possible breaking and entering charges, do you know about any of those?” Elle could feel her chest closing in on itself with the thought of JJ getting into anymore trouble. 

“No Dad of course not. Uh, what about Pope?”

“He didn’t mention anything, to be honest I think his case for Pope is a lot weaker than it is for JJ, knowing what JJ’s like”. Usually she would defend JJ, but the end of his sentence went in one ear and out the other once finding out about Pope.

Silence filled the line, Elle too caught up in her thoughts attempting to piece everything together.

“You need to stop hanging around these kids Elle, they’re clearly no good for you”

“I’ll tell you what Dad, you get a say in who I hang out with when here for more than 2 weeks at a time. Thanks for the information, I’ve got to go”, she fired back, promptly ending the call. 

Giving this information to Elle wasn’t a good idea. The most indecisive of the Pogues,  she now had to debate whether to tell the others or not. She knew that she should tell them, to keep them in the loop of the investigation. But telling the boys that Shoupe was going to do a deep-dive on them, would only result in chaos. Pope would freak out, his anxiety sky-rocketing and mulling over a possible criminal record that would make all his hard work this year for his scholarship redundant. 

Elle could predict how JJ would react; rebellion or packing up and running. Neither was particularly ideal. She wouldn’t even know where to find him after 2 weeks of no contact. She ignored that dreaded feeling in the pit of her stomach that rose whenever she thought of him and tried to think logically about her options.

How could this happen? Peterkin being shot by who they believed to be Ward. John B had never gotten around to telling them who it was, but they knew that he, Ward and Sarah were the only ones present when it happened, making it an obvious no brainer. And yet, John B was the one framed, and now that he’s not around for them to blame, they’re going to place it on the next best thing, the Pogues. 

Elle paced back and forth as she contemplated what to do next, twirling her rings around her fingers, thoughts rushing through her mind, one being replaced by the next. Settling on a decision, she walked back over to her phone resting on her bed, opening up their group chat and typing out, “We need to meet. Can y’all be at mine in 30?”.

-----

“So what’s going on?” Kie asked, plopping herself onto the outside sofa on the porch. Her and Pope had arrived together, something Elle wouldn’t have found strange previously but now left her feeling a tad uncomfortable. She was still trying to wrap her head around the idea of them together during all of this, and she was yet to properly talk to either of them about it and figure out what was actually going on.

She took a deep breath, preparing herself for their reactions as she filled them in on everything her Dad said. 

Pope’s face visibly drained of colour, and Kie’s eyebrows creased with worry. “Oh shit, I’m done for aren’t I”, Pope said, placing his head in hands and staring at the ground. 

Elle took that as her cue to calm him down, “You’re not done for Pope, they haven’t even found anything yet”.

“Elle that doesn’t matter, they’re searching as. we. speak.”, he added, pausing between his words for emphasis of the severity of the issue.

Kie who had remained silent processing the information butted in, “Does JJ know?”.

Waving her hands around in front of them to draw attention to the three of them, she replied frustratedly, “No, as you can see, he’s a no show”. 

Kie nodded solemnly, picking up the sadness underlying Elle’s words, “So you’re still not talking”, she pressed gently.

A sarcastic laugh escaped her, “Bingo!”.

Pope looked between the girls, sensing the tone of the conversation and awkwardly adding, “I uh… know where he is, and you’re not gonna like it E.”

Her head perked up, eyebrows raised with interest, “What, where? With his dad?”.

“Not exactly”, Pope paused, trying to prepare himself for her reaction, “he’s working at Barry’s, trying to pay him back for what he stole from his place.”

You have got to be fucking kidding me, Elle thought. “I’m sorry, what? Are you joking right now? He’s working as a dealer?!”, she spoke, feeling her hands becoming clammy with stress as this conversation progressed.

Pope shook his head vigorously, “No, not as a dealer. He’s doing maintenance on the house and his land. Apparently there's enough work needed to be done to repay everything he stole”.

She couldn’t believe her ears right now. He was going to earn 30k back from doing handyman work? She let out a sigh, “This is insane. He’s literally turned to the dark side. I have money, Kie has money, why didn’t he just come to us?”.

It was Pope’s turn to let out a sarcastic chuckle, “Do you really think that JJ, our JJ, JJ Maybank, would ask you for money to pay back someone for something you told him not do in the first place. Not with his pride and stubbornness Elle”.

Pope was right. Of course he wouldn’t do that. He liked to fend for himself, for everything. There was no way he was going to actually ask anyone for help. “Do you guys think we should tell him. I think it’s just going to make things worse and I don’t know if that’s the best idea,” Elle questioned softly. 

Pope and Kie both took a couple of seconds to think. Pope finally making a decision, “Yeah, I do Elle. He’s going to end up in a much worse place than just working for Barry if we don't get him out. I tried to talk to him the other day. All he said was that I didn't need to worry about him anymore and something about freeing me from his chains,  which made no sense but I know that what he meant wasn't good”. 

“Ok, I’m going to head over there and try and get him out”, Elle stated, grabbing her phone and getting ready to leave.  

Kie let out a soft laugh, “Good luck with that. If there’s anyone he loves saving him from his messes, it's you”. 

Elle could hear the sarcasm dripping off her words. She did have a habit of cleaning up his messes, whether he liked it or not. That’s what friends do right? They help you out when you need it, they give you money when you’re broke, they call you out on your bullshit? And then they ignore any attempts of contact for 2 weeks after breaking your heart? That’s how friendship works, right?

-----

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[oldfashionedmoth]

Fred and George do QVC

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It was a bright, sunny, Saturday afternoon, and Harry Potter was stuck inside folding laundry. He stared longingly at the window, wishing he was anywhere but here. Lately, he had been feeling listless and filled with ennui. His life at the Dursley’s was considerably less exciting than his life at school. Albeit, he didn’t have a crazed, nose-less, master wizard, trying to murder him here; but even that might have been an improvement, to the boredom he had felt all summer. He glanced across the room at his Aunt Petunia, who lounged on the sofa, half asleep. He wondered if she’d notice if he escaped outside, for a breath of fresh air. Uncle Vernon had just left, with Dudley and his friends, to see a professional football match. This was one of the numerous birthday surprises his aunt and uncle had lavished their son with. Harry would have liked to had gone too, but he was told “the laundry wasn’t going to fold itself.”

“If I were allowed to use magic outside of school, the laundry certainly *would* fold itself.” Harry thought bitterly.

The TV chattered away in the background.

“…and just so we’re clear, these are dishwasher safe?”  

“Yes, that’s right, Antonella. The Scrub Daddy is absolutely dishwasher safe.”

“And remember, you’re getting 12 of these! Order code 63528, when you call in.”

“Yes, and just quickly…because I know we are running out of time… I wanted to show you that the design for these is not just a smiley face. These are fully functional. Put your two fingers in the eye holes like so, and it stays on your fingers. That’s going to be fantastic for getting inside of mugs, cups, you name it.”

“Wow! that’s ingenious!”

The presenter turned and addressed the camera directly, holding the item for sale.

“Look! Here is what you’re getting, guys. And this packaging! Ah!  This custom packaging is exclusive to QVC, guys. And, all this could be yours, for 4 easy payments of $7.49. Amazing!”

The camera zoomed in, on the presenter’s face.

“Coming up, we have a couple of young entrepreneurs, showing us their latest confections. I’m sure we all know someone with a sweet tooth. Just wait till you see what these boys have in store for us today. But first, make sure you get your orders in for the Scrub Daddy. These things are selling like hot cakes!”

The shot cut to a pre-recorded infomercial, for Scrub Daddy sponges.  

“Hmmph!” Aunt Petunia snorted “I should order some of those for you, so you’ll stop ruining my pots!”  

Harry muttered under his breath “Well, if you fixed the dishwasher, instead of using me as your personal slave, I wouldn’t have to scrub the pots.”

“What was that?!” snapped Aunt Petunia, “You ungrateful little brat! After all your uncle and I have done for you; taking you in, like we did, after your parents…well…You should be ecstatic that I even offered to buy you anything!”

In a huff, she snatched the remote control off the coffee table and turned up the volume.

Harry put the folded laundry in the basket and stood to bring them upstairs.

“Up next, we have twins Fred and George Weasley, of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, here with us today. Welcome boys!”

Harry froze, gobsmacked. Much to his disbelief, there was his best friend’s older brothers, peddling their wares on QVC. One was wearing an evening tailcoat, which was neon orange with lime green polka dots. His trousers were also neon orange, but with a lime green tuxedo stripe running down each leg. The other twin was wearing the same tailcoat and tuxedo trousers, but in inverse colors to his brother. In contrast to the loudness of their jackets, both boys were wearing black cravats around their necks, giving them a ‘Victorian Regency on acid’ kind of look.

“Thanks for having us, Antonella. We’re happy to be here!” said one of the twins

“Remind us to buy a pack of those Scrub Daddies, before we leave.” said the other, “Our Dad would get such a kick out of them. Sponges with smiley faces. What a concept! Haha!”

His brother leaned into him, and theatrically whispered “We don’t need them ourselves. We can just use Malfoy’s head.” He held up two fingers in a sideways peace sign, and pretended to poke his brother in both eyes. “His hair is great at soaking up grease.”

The twins snickered together, as the presenter, unperturbed, carried on with the sales pitch.

“Fred and George have brought with them some of their Skiving Snackbox candies. Now, judging by the names of some of these, I think these would be perfect as a novelty get-well present, for someone in your life who’s been feeling a little under the weather. There’s something for every ailment. We’ve got ‘fever fudge’, ‘fainting fancies’, ‘nosebleed nougat’ and last but not least, ‘puking pastilles.’ Hehe! Now, what made you boys come up with this concept, for these sweets?”

“Well,” said Fred, “they’re not exactly for someone who’s already sick."

"That could result in some disastrous side effects.” quipped George

Fred turned to the camera and added “Always read the labels, kids!”

George continued, “They make you temporarily ill, if for example, you wanted the day off work. You pop in a fainting fancy. Bob’s your uncle-Fanny’s your Aunt, suddenly your GP has prescribed you a day of bed rest.”

“Oh, but totally 100% all muggle, I mean natural. 100% all natural.” Fred interjected

“Yes, definitely nothing magical about these candies at all.” George agreed, with a sheepish grin.

“Oh, I get it!” exclaimed the host, “That’s just like the Natural Herbal Detox Tea, we had on the show last month. This may be TMI, but I swear I was on the toilet for a week, after that segment! Hehehe!”  

Fred laughed and said, “Now would be a good time for me to tell one of my poop jokes.”

George replied “Nah, they always stink!”

“Hey-oh!” they cried, while high-fiving each other.

“You know what you needed?” Fred asked the host, “The Skiving Snackbox’s companion product, ‘You-No-Poo’. Guaranteed to cause crippling constipation in less than 3 minutes!”

“The constipation sensation, that’s gripping the nation!” exclaimed George

“Well, being conscious of time, lets move right along.” Antonella said, “Our viewers at home are probably wondering ‘but how do they taste?’ Let’s find out, shall we?”

She popped a candy into her mouth, and immediately started retching.

“NOOO!” the twins shouted in unison.

“You’re not supposed to eat the whole thing at once!” lamented Fred

“You’re only supposed eat half!” followed George

“The antidote is in the second half.” continued Fred

The poor unsuspecting host began urging in a rhythmic way, “Blech...Blech...Blech...Blech...”  

“Oh no!” wailed George “I think she’s stuck in vom-limbo.”

“Both sides of the sweet must be working against each other!” added Fred

“It’s simultaneously trying to make her be sick, and also keeping any sick from coming up.” George concurred.

Panic-stricken, Fred started rifling through his rugsack. He began removing items and throwing them behind him. A roll of parchment; a quill; various bottles and vials; a bowler hat; a cup of tea, complete with saucer; a set of fireworks, which exploded upon impact with the floor; a broom; a Yorkshire pudding; a literal kitchen sink...  

Between urges, Antonella asked “How...blech...did...blech...you...blech...fit...blech...all...blech...that...blech...in...blech...there?”

“Never mind that now! Here, eat this!” bellowed Fred, shoving the found antidote in the host’s mouth.

Finally, the retching stopped, but with it came a lengthy spew of vomit across the set, with such ferocity it rivaled Linda Blair in the exorcist. The show quickly switched to camera angle “B” to avoid broadcasting Antonella’s lost lunch to the viewers.

“I think it’s best we...uhh...take a little break,” the presenter said shakily, wiping tears and vomit from her face. “ugh... Up next we have Ken Oschipok with his beautifully iridescent Ammolite and White Zircon silver rings...ahh...oh...just a second, my producer is telling me something...”

She touched her finger to her ear, turned away from the camera and hissed into her mic “What do you mean you can’t find the rings? A Platypus? Are…are you sure it was a platypus? How did a platypus get in here, and why would it steal our merchandise?”

Fred and George exchanged worried glances.

The presenter looked back to camera, with a wide grin plastered on her face, “Sorry guys, we are just having a little bit of...umm...technical difficulties. We’ll be right back wi...OH!”

Suddenly a red envelope swooped down out of nowhere, flicked Antonella across the nose and stopped abruptly in front of the twins. A loud but shrill voice echoed throughout the studio.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY! OF ALL THE COCKAMAMIE STUNTS YOU’VE EVER PULLED — MUGGLE TV? YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU! IMAGINE MY SURPRISE WHEN I RECEIVED A CALL FROM RITA SKEETER, ASKING FOR A QUOTE FROM THE DELINQUENTS’ MOTHER — I NEVER — IN ALL MY DAYS — YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK ~ AGAIN! AS IF THE MINISTRY HASN’T BEEN FACING ENOUGH BACKLASH, AFTER THAT NIFFLER GETTING LOOSE, NOW THIS? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? YOU TWO COME HOME THIS INSTANT!!!"

Once the assault on everyone’s ears subsided, the presenter unsteadily staggered out of shot, with her hand on her forehead, murmuring “I think I need a nap, or a drink, or both”

The screen cut to another pre-recorded infomercial; a cheerful rock jingle began to play.

You wanna skip class, but not look like an ass? If you want an excuse; What have you got to lose? You better show some moxie, Grab a Skiving Snack Box-y From Weasley- Wizard - Wheezes!

Harry stood slack jawed, in the living room, transfixed by what had just played out on the tv in front of him. Clean laundry scattered around his feet, from where he’d dropped the basket.

“Bloody Hell! Those crazy troll bogeys!” He thought with a grin. A shocked guffaw escaped his throat.

Aunt Petunia gave him a scandalized glare and shrieked “I suppose you have something to do with this?”

Harry scooped all the laundry into his arms and dashed upstairs before she could chastise him any further. Although, he imagined any tongue-lashing Aunt Petunia could give him, would pale in comparison to the dressing down the twins were probably getting, from Molly Weasley, right now. She is one fierce boss-witch.

“Oh, to be a fly on the wall at the Burrow, right now” Harry said to himself, with a chuckle. “I can’t wait to hear the details from Ron!”

[undertheinfluencerd]

Outer Banks: 10 Best JJ Quotes | ScreenRant

All of the characters in Netflix’s Outer Banks are fun to watch. They get into some of the most unbelievable situations – and find even more unbelievable ways out of them. With all the treasure hunting and running for their lives, however, come some great lines.

RELATED: 5 Reasons Each Season Of Outer Banks Is The Best

Amongst the Pogues, a lot of the great lines are courtesy of JJ Maybank. Whether he’s dropping a funny one-liner, giving an emotional speech, or simply throwing his friends for a loop, JJ certainly has the kind of lines that stick with the audience.

10 “He’s Straight Up Like The Spanish. Just, Bon Voyage.”

JJ doesn’t always make the most sense when trying to make a point to his friends, as is evident in this Outer Banks Season 2 quote from him. It’s said while he’s trying to explain to Kiara, John B, Pope, and Sarah that the Pogues are his family. While it’s clear that they all appreciate what he’s saying, none of them can resist teasing him about not knowing the difference between Spanish and French.

The entire exchange is a great snapshot of the group in the show. They can tease each other for their mistakes, even be genuinely angry with one another, but they’d do anything for each other.

9 “The Pentagon… We Have Security Clearance. I Have A Card.”

After Hurricane Agatha lands in the early episodes of the first season of Outer Banks, JJ and John B stop by Pope’s family’s business to take him out on the water. Unlike the other two boys, Pope’s parents actively engage with him and are trying to get him to help with the damages to the property.

JJ tries to tell Pope’s father that the day after a hurricane is a free day… according to the government, i.e. the Pentagon. Pope’s father, of course, isn’t amused by JJ’s antics, though he fully commits to the bit. It’s the first of many times that it’s clear the Pogues aren’t really great with one another’s parents.

8 “I Love Third-Wheeling. It’s My Favorite Thing.”

While some will argue that a relationship between Pope and Kiara makes no sense, JJ is the one with a front row seat to most of their struggles during the second season. JJ appears supportive of Pope and Kiara, much as he appeared supportive of the potential of Kiara and John B ending up together in the first season. It’s clear, however, that always being the third-wheel to his friends is getting to him a little bit.

John B and Sarah fall for one another very quickly. Pope is pretty well gone on Kiara for most of the episodes. JJ is left to watch the couples around them – for better or worse. He often finds himself on the outside of their discussions looking in, as is the case with this quote when Kiara, Pope, and JJ are trying to get evidence against Ward Cameron.

7 “If I’m The One Mediating, We’ve Hit Rock Bottom.”

JJ might make some incredibly reckless decisions, but he knows that about himself. No one can deny that JJ doesn’t understand exactly who he is. He knows that he’s argumentative and that he often can’t stop himself once he starts down that road.

RELATED: Outer Banks Characters Ranked From Least To Most Likely To Survive The Hunger Games

So, when Kiara and Pope argue about John B’s safety in the first season of the series, JJ acting as mediator between them is a little surprising. He always takes a side amongst his friends. JJ, however, also understands that both of his friends aren’t truly angry at one another, but the situation they find themselves in, and his crack about mediating is enough to diffuse the situation.

6 “I Can’t Let You Take The Blame For Something I Did. You Have Too Much To Lose.”

If there’s one thing that’s reiterated in the first season of the series, it’s that JJ is the best liar. He knows exactly how to get himself out of trouble – or in the case of this particular line, into it.

One of the best things JJ does in the entire show, and one of the most selfless, is to take the fall for Pope after Pope sinks Topper’s boat. JJ has no illusions about his place in OBX, but he’s well aware that Pope is on track for a prestigious scholarship – and getting out. When Pope is going to be arrested for doing something JJ encouraged him to do to get back at Topper and Rafe, JJ doesn’t let that happen, giving this line to Pope to encourage Pope to say that JJ committed the crime instead. It’s a huge thing for a friend to do, but JJ is one of the most loyal friends there is.

5 “Ain’t All That Bad… That’s Just One Man’s Opinion Though.”

Out of context, this particular line doesn’t exactly have the same punch of some of JJ’s other quotes. It does comment on the central conflict of the Pogues versus the Kooks, though, as well as his never-ending support of the people he cares about.

Kiara is, technically, a Kook. She’s adopted the Pogue lifestyle, and in the second season, it starts to catch up with her as she’s constantly at odds with her parents. Her mother threatens to send her to boarding school because of who she’s becoming. JJ comforts Kiara with this line, that Kiara being a Pogue isn’t the worst thing in the world, and while he says it as though he’s speaking for Pope, he’s clearly voicing his own opinion about her.

4 “I Know For A Fact That All I Got Is Your Guys, Okay? You’re It.”

The family a character is born into compared to the family they’ve made in the Pogues is a running theme in both seasons. In the second season, JJ is finally able to cut ties with his abusive father because he helps his father run from the police on a boat, not unlike what he did for John B in the first season.

RELATED: The Main Characters Of Outer Banks, Ranked By Likability

As JJ watches his friends squabble in the marsh right after Kiara helps him see his dad off for good, JJ makes it clear that this group of people is the only family he really has. Sure, JJ has cousins he can ask for a hand once in a while, but the people he loves and trusts are the Pogues. That’s true for all five of the characters as they make their way through Outer Banks.

3 “Oh, Now She Wants The Gun.”

In the second season, JJ and Kiara end up paired up for a lot of the adrenaline-fueled sequences. Part of that is a result of John B and Sarah being separated from the rest of the Pogues quite a bit. Part of that is also the result of Kiara’s strained relationship with Pope. As much as JJ and Kiara are on the same side, however, they also bicker quite a bit.

One of the chief arguments they have is over JJ’s possession of a stolen gun. While JJ is not as quick to jump to violence as Rafe Cameron, that doesn’t mean he won’t use the gun, something Kiara doesn’t approve of until the second season when the group is targeted yet again. As Kiara asks JJ where the gun is, he’s both annoyed and surprised that she’s willing to use it as soon as he’s had to hide it to protect the group.

2 “So, I Busted The Wrong Guy Out Of Jail, Sue Me.”

When it comes to making plans, JJ isn’t exactly the smartest of the Pogues. His plans aren’t always the most thought out, and that’s never more clear than his convoluted idea that involves using an ambulance to break John B out of jail in Season 2.

When it doesn’t work, and a different inmate is released into the care of the paramedic JJ is pretending to be, he has to text Kiara for help. She and Pope save him just in time. Despite the desperate nature of the situation, he still has time for this quip.

1 “Stupid Things Have Good Outcomes All The Time.”

This is one of JJ’s only lines that makes an appearance in both seasons of the show. It’s an acknowledgment that he and his friends make, in their own words, incredibly stupid decisions. It’s also an acknowledgment that the choice to do that isn’t always bad.

After all, their bad decisions lead them on two different treasure hunts and allow Sarah and Kiara to become friends again. They also save one another’s lives multiple times.

NEXT: Which Outer Banks Character Are You Based On Your Zodiac Sign?

The post Outer Banks: 10 Best JJ Quotes | ScreenRant appeared first on undertheinfluencerd.net.

[wheel-of-fish]

By the Numbers: Ben Crawford, Ali Ewoldt, Jay Armstrong Johnson

By the Numbers:  The Ben Crawford/Ali Ewoldt/Jay Armstrong Johnson  Stream, August 22, 2020

[long-awaited submission from Aldebaran; I’m putting it behind a cut]

Oh my gosh, an epic stream deserves an epically long and epically late By the Numbers!  Come with me back in time, all the way back to two weeks ago, which in pandemic days is a month and a half.  Before we were treated to  Giant Ivan and Tiny Tamara in Moscow, there was The Swagger, The Disney Princess and The Bot…

This was a fantastically fun boot to watch as part of a group of enthusiastic Saturday Streamers!  Plusses included an earlier-in-his-run Ben “The Swagger” Crawford as the Phantom, with the spotlight on his booming baritone voice, and Ali “Paris’s Sweetheart” Ewoldt as an enchanting Christine.  And—Jay Armstrong Johnson (we’re pretty sure) as Raoul.  Or some semblance of Raoul.  Something was up with Raoul in this performance and the consensus was there may have been robotics involved. I won’t say more here; the streamers have it covered below and a fantastic set of memes by Onthevirg/faunaproductions caught tons more great moments.   Very very nice filming job by a master who clearly knew the show well and anticipated major moments and character moves in a smooth manner.  Not a bot though.  As far as we know.  And featuring an AIAOY– let’s just say that has to be seen to be believed.    

Some stats on the stats:  An asterisk * indicates a recurring category.  All numbers are accurate except where they are not.  I was tempted last week to resort to making crap up for this recap, but resisted the temptation.  I will occasionally add in a missing letter or two.  If a person’s train of thought is split up, I will ignore intervening commentary and put that thought back on track.  Occasionally, by design or by mischance, a comment or two will be moved slightly out of original chronological order.  Or wildly out of chronological order to cater to a theme.  Or a whim.  Only when it’s funny.  There is also no clean way to say the word “organ” which pops up a lot in this stream. (See what I mean?  It can’t be done.)

*Suggested names for this boot: The Animatronic Boot, The Better Than Cooper Boot, The It’s Alive! Boot, Robot Roll Call Boot (Okay, nobody suggested these.  It was me.  I suggested these)

*Statistician’s Favorite Boot Name:  mechanical hands down, The RaoulBot Boot

*Wow, we like to talk about Phantoms:  It has become clear to me that we like to talk about everybody.  And everything.  Phantoms, Christines, Raouls, Mandalorians.  Here are most of the people mentioned in the stream.  There is no context.  Just like a real stream!!!

John Riddle (9), Gina Beck (8), Ramin (6), Rob Houchen (2), Ethan (1), Eiji (1), Uwe (3), Jordan Craig (2), Sierra (1), Steve Barton (3), David Shannon (2), Norm (14), Earl (1), Cooper (2), Darua (4), Thiago (11), Rachel Barrell (1), Meghan Picerno (2), Cherik (19), Pedro Pascal (1), B*rbour (7), Eva Tavares (4), Ted Keegan (5), Maree Johnson (2), Quentin Oliver Lee (1), Jeremy Hays (1), Ben Jacoby (3), Andrew Keenan Bolger (1), Greg Mills (1), Michael Maliakel (1),  KKA (8),  Jordan Donica (1), Kyle Barisch (8), Andrew Ragone (3), Paul Stanley/Stankey (3), Hannah Gadsby (2)

Residual Stolle Thirst:  Residual Stolle Thirst from the stream a week prior to this one, plus Mr. Stolle’s appearance as Passarino AND the Conductor in this boot resulted in >32 mentions.  There may or may not have been comparisons between his Raoul and this boot’s Raoul.  I certainly wouldn’t put it past us.

Epithets for Ben Crawford:  Ubiquitous mentions of Crawdaddy and The Swagger.  More personalized and clearly personal epithets:  Big Ben—ktarinajones, BENBENBENBEN—whereisthepersian, OH HELLO VOICE—butdreamsofbeauty, my horny bastard and I love him—ktarinajones

Epithets:  reader’s choice as to which Phantom(s) the following apply to (no one in this stream):                                                        Fuckface McGee–therosenpants                                                      Sir Scruffsalot—snows                                                                    Voldemort—Benny-Lynne                                                                  Traschcan–therosentpants

Antici_____pation:

I can’t wait for jay                                                                                I honestly thought they’d slapped a human face on a robot and called it a day—angedelamusique

Let’s all just have fun trying to spy hints of actual emotion in Jay’s Raoul—GlassPrism

Oh there will be memes.  Ben Crawford is a walking meme and there will be a robot on stage—ktarinajones

Oh boy, here we go—GlassPrism

We love a trainwreck:

I love this stream crowd because you all show up for trainwrecks just as enthusiastically as you do for good actors—wheel-of–fish

We love a trainwreck!—butdreamsofbeauty

we’re ready—angelofthelake

trainwrecks are v satisfying—christinegrrl

We’re here with roses, we’re here with rotten fruit, we’re versatile!  A good tirefire is a marshmallow roast–snows

Debut of RaoulBot:  Before the show even began, JAJ’s Raoul had a name:                                                                                       

RaoulBot—ktarinajones at 20:01:33 (historic occasions get timestamps!)                                                                                     

wait they can’t moisten the raoul if he’s a robot, can they?—butdreamsofbeauty

they can oil him—ktarinajones

oil the raoul, perfect—butdreamsofbeauty

He has a silicone exterior—Benny-Lynne

wd-40—wheel-of-fish

How do we know he is waterproof?  Let’s see if he sparks when he hits the Raoul Hole—Aldebaran

Earliest Meme Generation:  Our intrepid memester Virg had material for a meme within 8 minutes 27 seconds of the start of the stream.

Love is in the Air:  There was a lot of love in this stream

Ali Love:  >32

Laird Love:  28

Carlotta Love:  20

Filmer Love: 5

Extreme John Riddle love: 2

when there’s video of John Riddle the filmer can have a kidney if they want—ktarinajones, seconded by christinegrrl

And then there was Jay:

Oh he did a head nod.  Well done.—Bozzleboz

At least Jay doesn’t shoot a policeman—PureAnon

Several head turns in succession there.  Getting ambitious.–Bozzleboz

Illumination!:  Auction Raoul set the tone for the evening to come, and the chandelier seized the moment to shine.

OMG, his jaw moves just like a real person….or a nutcracker—Aldebaran

His batteries are running down.  Maybe they will wire him for the new electricity.—Aldebaran

Robot Raoul is using all the electricity—Aldebaran

That chandelier isn’t rising—Ladyrock18

It’s not rising because they have to unhook the cables that power Raoulbot—DocTy

The chandelier shows more emotions than Jay as Raoul—Maze-zen

Erik made a Raouldoll to add to his collection?—Benny-Lynne

The chandelier shows the full range of human emotions.  That is why it was cast.—haunted-hideaway

The chandelier is more expressive than this Raoul—Carole

The chandelier can actually sing in morse code—DocTy

Meanwhile backstage Raoulbot is recharging in his alcove—Aldebaran

If you listen closely you can hear diesel generators in the background recharging the batteries—DocTy

C’mon guys, he’s solar powered—ktarinajones

is that why he stops working in the dark during AIAOY–christinegrrl

Statistician Aldebaran wonders if she will be able to handle viewing Cherik:

Oh I finally finished the 90’s miniseries!  I have thoughts!—Abberina

Abberina do you have thoughts other than “I hurt, I am in pain”?—snows

@snows the ending was WILD—Abberina

Abberina, I spent the whole day lying and crying after the 90s miniseries, are you allright?—Carole

“Wild”??? How are you still living!  That ending!  Gghh!—snows

Do you need something?  A glass of water?  Therapy?—Carole

My heart hasn’t recovered yet.  And I watched it 4 years ago.–Carole

Christine Who?:  One would think that Christine’s debut in Hannibal would have the streamers’ full attention.  But no.  All eyes were on Raoul in his box.  Or maybe just unpacked from the box he came in.

can it be? can it be a robot?—christinegrrl

can it be chreeeestineeee—butdreamsofbeauty

engage clapping program—Aldebaran

clap beep boop clap clap—angelofthelake

beep boop clapping action beep boop—Jadowdra

EXECUTE EMOTION—missbuster

Stache or cache?:  Once we were beginning to get an idea of the limits of Raoulbot’s programming, we turned our attention to his most character defining feature—the mustache.

omg mustache—MelancholysChild

His mustache is a little full for me.  Oh well.  I guess that’s where he hides his secrets.—haunted-hideaway

wowWWWW—put that boy in a floofy shirt and stick him in the pirates of the caribbean ride at disney, damn—snows

it’s where he hides his processer—therosenpants

haunted he needs something to cry into—ashadeintheshade

That is not a mustache, that is fiber optics—Aldebaran

although he is stiffer than the other robotic pirates—snows

Haunted, his secret is his charger entrance—Carole

You keep your secrets then, Raoul—haunted-hideaway

Autocorrect Follies:

Pinging = Piangi–Bozzleboz

Paul Stankey = Paul Stanley—IamErik771

Ironic Statement is Ironic:

I always forget there’s an elephant–yiks

Cooper finds a role:

[as Buquet appears] oh hey look it’s cooper!—snows                                                                                                                                    finally a role for cooper, buquet all the way—Aldebaran                                                                                                                                ohh wait sorry it’s the other scruffy creepy nasty weirdo—snows

*Best from Onthevirg’s Mom:  “like stolles passarino cooper should always be buquet—it’s a fitting role”

Joseph Buquet job  performance review:

DO YOUR FREAKING JOB BUQUET.  –madamefaust                                                                                                                                I’ll never get over that line “i promise i wasn’t doing my job!!!!!”—butdreamsofbeauty

The Boy Ain’t Right:  Little Lotte made it very apparent that Raoul may have been compromised.

Don’t make fun of him, you guys.  The tiny alien in his head driving his body is doing his best, ok?—haunted-hideaway

li tt le l ott e—tearoses

So….Erik’s looking like an awesome choice right about now…–HerbalPath

Usually i’m r/c  but uh not today—yiks

His hat is just an excuse he’s going to recharge a bit—Carole

That was almost threatening how he said little lotte—Ladyrock18

*Vintage MadameFaust:                                                                   Don’t quote me too much, my knowledge is based on judicious use of Wikipedia;-)

[inspired by Raoul’s Little Lotte performance]                                    CHOCOLATES 

HUMANS LOVE CHOCOLATES                                                                                                                                                                    *Biggest Organ in Paris:  The mirror scene included a thunderous organ accompaniment.  It took me ten minutes to write a non-filthy sentence that conveyed that information while containing the word “organ.”  The Saturday Streamers were fired up!  Except for a certain statistician–

WOAH—therosenpants                                                                    THAT ORGAN—PureAnon                                                                ORGAN—haunted-hideaway                                                              Wow—DocTy                                                                                      ORGAN!—butdreamsofbeauty                                                          did you hear that??????—therosenpants                                          organ—DocTy                                                                                    Orrgannnnn—Xyloghost                                                                    that roused me from Lore Olympus—therosenpants                          ORGAN!—Jawodra                                                                          What’s with the loud organ?—maze-zen                                            organ AWESOME—snows                                                                THE ORGAN WAS PERFECT—whereisthepersian                          I loved it!—MelancholysChild                                                            Is that new? that’s BADASS–snows                                                  Organ <3—Carole                                                                          The organ is loud because Ben is loud—PureAnon                          Erik is playing his pocket organ–Abberina                                        It’s the phantom of the phantom of the opera—wheel-of-fish

Oh God now I have to count Organ mentions (>20) and everyone is going to judge me—Aldebaran

*What scent are the Phantom’s candles:  Previously established in the official “Love That Lair” candle line, in addition to  Vanilla Brown Sugar, Cucumber Melon, Tobacco Spice, Underground Despair, and Hopeless Mist, the newest entry unveiled for this stream was Sepulchral Solitude, a light and airy blend of ennui, nihilism and condensation, perfect for occasional bouts of midnight composing.

*The Phantom’s pillows mentions:  2

obligatory pillow mentions, they are a nice colour scheme–missbuster

Baritone Love Fest:

we! love! a baritone! phantom!—butdreamsofbeauty

Baritones are the best!–PureAnon

Yes!—JacobZ

Yes to baritones.  To whatever they ask.—Aldebaran

baritones are incredible—angelofthelake

I like em big and boomy—Bozzleboz

yes they are—MelancholysChild

The deeper and boomier, the better—PureAnon

*Erik has Skillz:

Okay so Ben just flipped through about six alternate personalities in a single line, and that’s impressive—snows

his voice is like chocolate sauce—Benny-Lynne

His voice is so deep I wanna scuba dive in it—Benny-Lynne

The Swagger at Rest:

Sir must you spread your legs so—snows

snows yes he MUST—ashadeintheshade

nice stance—MelancholysChild

Oo.  Manspreading—Bozzleboz

but like… the good kind–snows                                                       

Sweet Music’s Throne:  Ben’s nascent aggression came out in his organ playing.  The INSTRUMENT!

OMG HIS KNEES This is really funny to me—madamefaust

He is def using his knees a lot—christinegrrl

Oh he’s….trying to play the keyboard—missbuster

He’s putting his back into that organ playing, there—haunted-hideaway

he’s definitely a more aggressive phantom I think—wheel-of-fish

A good squat workout I guess?—christinegrrl

Lift with your knees man—haunted-hideaway

The key to being an organist is all in the lumbar–Jacobz

Ben’s stance remains a source of….let’s call it concern.  Yes, concern:

He’s got good stance—ashadeintheshade

why are his legs SO far apart though—butdreamsofbeauty

because they’re so loooong—missbuster

power stance—MelancholysChild

is he riding an invisible horse?—jadowdra

And, inevitably, boner mentions: 5 (You know who you are.  Good thing, because I was watching Ben.)

The Phantom is pleased to announce:   boner mentions are ummm holding firm

Christine makes questionable choices:

oh she looked down—christinegrrl

she totally looked down and then bolted but let’s be real WHY RUN—snows

Boner-adjacent vocabulary:

Horny and variants (>17)

Lusty (2)

Organ—THE INSTRUMENT!!  (>20)

Christine does not stan a crafty Phantom:

he’s doing so well then he has to bring Barbara into it—Virg’s mom

SEE?  I MADE THIS FOR YOU?

OOPS

THAT DID NOT GO TO PLAN—haunted-hideaway

Strange Ships:  The debut of a long overdue category highlighting all the really random ships that are proposed during a given stream.

Erik/RaoulBot—haunted-hideaway

Andre/Carlotta–????

Barbara/severed Hannibal head—????

Christine/Luigi—ashadeintheshade

Barbara/new and improved sexbot from LND—Onthevirg

RaoulBot/Barbara—DocTy {streamers were split here that Barbara shouldn’t settle versus OTP}

Yes, I know, it’s a great disservice to Barbara but still, maybe they can bond over replacement parts—DocTy

Only in this streams I walk away with either a new favourite actor, a fanfic recommendation and/or a new pairing to ship—Jadowdra

*Education of the Innocent:  Several seminars were held this stream.  First,  a wide ranging and frank discussion of historically accurate ballet rats, pimping and ummm social diseases.  We segued from a dissertation on our own Madame Giry as a probable pimp to the topic of the hierarchy of French Royalty.  These topics heavily featured our resident history buffs therosenpants, angedelamusique, PureAnon and madamefaust, with varying degrees of participation in the pimping and social disease discussions.  Second, a discourse on “the catch” and variations, the catch being allowed in London and not on Broadway due to union rules.  A variant unknown to me, the “half catch” was mentioned.  Third, a sadly eye-opening (for some) discussion of the “horsey dance”:

Look, Norm was directed to do the horsey dance.  Anything is possible on Broadway.—madamefaust

sorry a HORSEY DANCE—butdreamsofbeauty

HORSEY DANCE???—onthevirg

horsey dance…??—angelofthelake

ah yes the ever classic jumping up and galloping horsey dance—madamefaust

It was more of a forceful trot during ‘Order your fine horses’ in Final Lair—madamefaust

faust you can’t just drop that in chat and not explain yikes—butdreamsofbeauty

someone link the gif—andgedelamusique

[fatefully the gif was linked]

thanks, I hate it!—butdreamsofbeauty

OH I thought that was a JOKE, that was REAL?—ashadeintheshade

oh noooo I saw that in like a compilation of funny phantoms and i thought it was a joke oh no—ashadeintheshade

The Horsey Dance claims more victims–Aldebaran

STYDI Sound effects:

[the Phantom collapses]

plorp—wheel-of-fish

plorp—MelancholysChild

Now I want to hear his palms squeak on the ground—madamefaust

I’m Jewish and I don’t approve of this level of ham Curse youuuuu—JacobZ

Prior to Il Muto the organ makes another appearance.  The INSTRUMENT!!!:

Organ boop!—Bozzleboz

Organ again.  Oh God now I said it.—Aldebaran

Aldebaran, you can’t escape the organ.  The Phantom’s organ WILL find you.—PureAnon

this Erik is so extra he took the organist’s place in the orchestra—DocTy

Il Muto Pillow Mentions:  1

Fascinating discussion about which is worse/better, bad actors or boring actors:

It’s the old argument between what’s worse bad or boring—GlassPrism

is it better to burn out or fade away—wheel-of-fish

Is it more fun to watch an Uwe or a Thiago—GlassPrism

Thiago activates my RAGE setting.—madamefaust

AIAOY is never make me watch this again:  Words cannot capture AIAOY.  Nevertheless we tried. Here are selected comments.

EXECUTEEMPATHY2.0—missbuster

Maybe there is a rat driving him by his mustache like in Ratatouille.  Raoultatouille.—missbuster

turn.her.90.degrees—Aldebaran

if she shakes him, I bet we can hear him rattle—DocTy

Raoul.exe has stopped working—christinegrrl

he bluescreened—butdreamsofbeauty

error 404—angelofthelake

can you even play Doom on this Raoul?—Jadowdra

Does he even like her?—madamefaust

He’s just staring into the abyss—angelofthelake

Why did no one tell him that wooing does not involve low-level dread—JacobZ

<10> no more talk of darkness GOTO20—snows

<20> forget these wide eyed fears GOTO30—snows

his wooing program has bugs–Aldebaran

YOU ARE NO BETTER THAN MY ARCH-ENEMY THIAGO–madamefaust

are they actually kissing?—madamefaust

now you must place your face upon her face and remain still—butdreamsofbeauty

this is depressing—virg’s lil sister

It’s more fun to suffer as a group—wheel-of-fish

Prevailing Theory:

The Phantom clearly switched Raoul with a mannequin—Maze-zen

Fondly Remembering Christian Lund during this AIAOY:  4

Fondly Remembering  “the Boop” during this AIAOY: 5

*Requests for AIAOY Kiss replay:  0

Priorities Straight:  Host Fish caller for dog pictures on her blog during the stream, resulting in the following mentions

Dogs (35, may need to be adjusted as one of Flora’s dogs is large enough to count as two), Goats (6), Cats (9), Rabbits (5), Chickens (3) Regular non-Cherik deer (1) Pig (1) Cherik deer (9)            actual human children (1)

The Masquerade, or as some wags had it due to the mannequins on the staircase, the de Chagny family reunion:

Let’s see the robot try to dance—katarinajones

dance.exe—whereisthepersian

dance.exe failed to start—phantomofthebasement

He is going as a robot to the masquerade–Aldebaran

People gonna trip over his charging cable—whereisthepersian

Relief is the wrong emotion to feel when the Red Death arrives:

Why at a costume party is everyone afraid of a costumed man?  How do they know to be scared?  Do they hear the background music?—JacobZ

It’s his authoritative stance—madamefaust

Christine’s reaction maybe?—ktarinajones

I think they’re afraid he’s going to drop another chandelier on them.  Which, valid.—madamefaust

They saw the bead work.  They know who it is.—haunted-hideaway

*Sad comment is sad:  commenting on the ornate bow on the score for Don Juan Triumphant

He wraps it up like the present he never received.—haunted-hideaway

*Fathering Gaze lyric: 1

*That staff tho:    

“I’m going to a graveyard.  I should take my shooty stick with the skull on it!”—haunted-hideaway

We passed the Point of No Return long ago.  From the auction, in fact:

his accent, lol–ashadeintheshade 

Accent—Bozzleboz

itsa me…—Aldebaran

ITSA HIM—madamefaust

I hate you all—wheel-of-fish

And Ben plays videogames backstage.  His inspiration is literally Super Mario.—madamefaust

That was some nice cup stroking—GlassPrism                   

The Raoul Hole holds no dangers for Raoulbot:

Oh no he’s going to rust and shut down in the lake—wheel-of-fish

They spray him down and moisten him before he jumps in, otherwise he’ll just float on top—haunted-hideaway

Raoul’s wifi is down once more:

Is the boat stuck?  Oh, there it goes—madamefaust

The radio signals running Raoul confused the boat—Aldebaran

The organ makes a return in Down Once More:  The INSTRUMENT!!!!:  2

Veil Fluff Mentions: 2

he didn’t fluff the veil—ashadeintheshade

I like the veil fluff–ashadeintheshade

Veil Yeet Mentions: 11

The Kiss.  An actual human kiss, unlike AIAOY:

ohhh he bends into the kiss—Aldebaran

Aw he’s TRYING to figure out how to kiss—Flora-Gray

He done touched a lady.—haunted-hideaway

That was a good kiss—Abberina

Bozzleboz breaks me, as the Phantom approaches hanging Raoul with a candle:

I burn him now, yes?–Bozzleboz

The Phantom breaks us:

oh god.  He just broke me.—Bozzleboz

ohhhh poor angel—Aldebaran

aw erik :(–angeloflake

he’s so resigned:(–Benny-Lynne

we love an exhausted depressed sewer man—butdreamsofbeauty

This Phantom survives just so he can go disassemble Raoul—Aldebaran

Looks Like We Made It:

Time to go plug Raoulbot in for the night—angelofthelake

Performance Comparisons for Raoul/Career Suggestions for Raoul, You Decide:

Nutcracker—Aldebaran

Mannequin Bride—coroaline

Tin Man—christinegrrl, yiks

Edward Scissorhands—GlassPrism

Calculon from Futurama—IamErik771

C3PO—wheel-of-fish

Automaton—ktarinajones

Dalek–missbuster

Cardboard Cutout—haunted-hideaway

Hat Stand–Bozzleboz

*Things I wish I had said:            

Christine in Final Lair:  She has to go put Raoul in a bag of rice but she’ll be back—Benny-Lynne

*Statistician Aldebaran’s two favorite personal quotes:  

little known fact, the red scarf is actually a fanbelt from Raoulbot

19 years on the score, 1 year on the bow

Phew!  See you shortly with the By the Numbers of Moscow from LAST week!!!  Aldebaran

[bugmomwrites]

Astragalus Tea & Soft Company (Juzo Honenuki x Reader)

Astragalus flower meaning: You soften my pain

Thank you for 100 followers and counting!

FUN FACT: This was actually for the Bnharem server collab, and the prompt was Flowers. I was hella late for this one due to things that popped up BUT my friend’s awesome stories are linked below, so check them out too!

https://jojosmilktea.tumblr.com/post/618831496637300737/this-is-a-sfw-choose-your-own-collaboration-by-the

I ended up whipping something together like a day before the deadline and almost having it done- and then I forgot my family came up to visit. My state has eased up guidelines a bit, and since I haven't seen them since my grandma’s funeral at the end of last year, I wanted to spend some time with them before they go home. As a result I kind of didn't have the time to polish it and post on schedule. Better late than never? Anyway here's some food for you Honenuki stans cause my boi needs more love. Takes place in their third and final year- their long history of friendship is important and comes up.

Rating: Teen and up

Words: 7.7k

Warnings: Language, vomit (brief scene), nudity (nothing happens but still)

After sharing classes for God knows how long, Juzo Honenuki could confidently say he knew just about all of your little idiosyncrasies and habits. You were one of his closest friends after all, even having gone to the same middle school. You both got in on recommendation, and the two of you were now in your third year of UA. He knew you liked to watch older memes from years ago, still quoting Vines as far back as 2013. He knew you’d flap your hands a bit whenever you got excited or nervous. Lastly, he knew you well enough to know you didn’t just get sick out of nowhere- it had to be a result of your poor sleeping habits as of late, ultimately catching up to you and taking a toll on your well being.

The other night he could hear you shuffling in your room across the hall until about 4:30 in the morning, and upon seeing your current state he mentally kicked himself for not nipping it in the bud weeks ago.

How you managed to retain the energy to function in class every day was a mystery in and of itself, but you for one thought you were doing an ​awesome​ job at balancing late night productivity with biological needs. Honenuki just so happened to live in the dorm room right across from you, often bearing witness to your bizarre nightly routines first hand. It never bothered him too much; he knew academics were tough and sometimes people needed a bit more time to study or indulge in their hobbies. So for a while, he thought nothing of the shuffling noises, or the light coming from under the crack of your door at some unholy hour. If he held his breath he could even make out some soft curse words uttered by you among other various sounds. 

He knew you were up to ​something,​ but as much as he wanted to check in on you, there was a strictly enforced curfew, and it wouldn’t look too good if someone caught him sneaking in and out of his friend’s room in the middle of the night; nevermind that you were a girl. He resorted to just shooting a quick text, hoping you’d take a hint and maybe get some shut eye. His phone pinged not a minute later, and he shook his head in disappointment at the notification.

Read: 3:36am

By week two he began to notice you lagging behind in sparring, and even stopped to ask you about it- something that took you a bit by surprise considering his normally competitive streak- but you had dodged the question completely, dismissing his concerns and attempting to get back to the match at hand. He didn’t want to press, but if you said you were fine- so be it, he wasn’t one to hold back. He trained with you for about twenty or so more minutes before he noticed your reaction time slowing down exponentially, and even swaying side to side towards the end. You hunched over and rubbed your temples in pain, and in a moment he found himself cradling your head towards him, even softening the gym floor a bit in case you teetered off to the ground. He could see the bags under your eyes, so after scooping you up completely, he went off to Recovery Girl.

Said nurse confirmed that your tiredness was, in fact, a result of the all nighters Honenuki would catch you pulling multiple times per week.

“You should listen to your boyfriend! He only wants you to be healthy,” said Shuzenji.

Of course you only heard bits and pieces, already dozing off on the cot. He cleared his throat, teeth clacking when your head fell onto his shoulder. If he was already tense before, he was a full-blown statue by now, and the poor boy prayed he didn’t look like a tomato. He went to correct the nurse, talking carefully so as not to disturb you.

“We’re actually just friends, ma’am. I just happened to know about it because my dorm is right across from hers, and I can see when the lights are on under the d-” She cut him off, whacking him in the shin with her cane.

You tumbled onto the cot, somehow managing not to wake up from the impact. Honenuki could only sit there slack jawed as the older woman continued her tirade.

“You’re still close to her! Don’t be afraid to nag a little bit. But hopefully this should be a lesson. I’ll write you a pass.” And so, Honenuki took one last glance to where you lay curled up and at peace for the first time in a while, and saved that memory to his brain when Shuzenji offered the scribbly post it note to the blushing boy. He nodded in thanks, and briskly made his way out.

“Please get some rest, I hate seeing you like this.”

~~~

Did you learn your lesson that day? Apparently not. He still told you now and then to go to bed at a reasonable hour, and as much as you appreciated the care from the boy you loved, his warnings fell on deaf ears. This pattern persisted for a while, where you’d wake up exhausted and have him lecture you, only for you to ignore his advice. Rinse and repeat. You knew he meant well, but after one particularly bad day you couldn’t help but snap at him. Honenuki still remembered it vividly, seeing most of it firsthand in your shared class:

Another Monday morning. You were tired, and that was an objective fact. You already knew it was your fault, but you were so far gone that you couldn’t just go to bed early one night and hope it would undo all the self-inflicted psychological damage. You had already formed a habit, and it was something that could only be fixed over a period of time, little by little.

That day was particularly rough- Vlad kicked off the morning by giving the whole class a pop quiz, which you were sure you bombed horribly. Afterwards, you weren’t alert enough during training, which gave Tsuburaba an opening to catch you off guard and knock you to the ground ass first. It was a short fight, and he wouldn’t stop bragging to his friends about his quick victory.

“That’s a victory royale, bitches! Three years of UA and I finally beat (l/n)!”

To add an insult to injury, he was doing Fortnite dances (in mid 2020, no less), while whooping and hollering. You wanted to be happy for him, maybe even congratulate him on a good fight, but he was too damn obnoxious and by that point you just wanted the class to be over. The bastard didn’t even help you up, so you could only glare at him from your place on the floor. On the way back from the USJ, you got stuck on the bus seat between Monoma and Kamakiri, the former screaming from his own seat behind you to pick a fight with the hotheaded boy two rows up.

“Listen man, I’m just saying, if I wanted a teammate with the same abilities and none of the death threats I got from you on a daily basis, I’d tape a couple of knives to a Roomba and let it loose on class A.”

Kamakiri, however, was having none of it, so the next time Monoma leaned over your backrest to yell in his ear he was greeted with a swift punch in the throat. It sent him tumbling backwards and he released your backrest, but not before Kamakiri’s quirk accidentally left a clean gash on your forehead as you tried to duck down from the crossfire.

The howling laughter and “oh shit! Monoma’s fucking dead you guys!” from Setsuna did nothing to ease your headache, and as much as you wanted to give the two boys a piece of your mind, you didn’t particularly have a death wish. So you opted to seethe quietly, applying pressure to the wound until you could patch yourself up at the clinic.

When you arrived, the nurse was on lunch break, so you had to haul ass all the way back to the Class B dorms in the rain, do a walk of shame through the common room where many of your peers congregated at that time, and pray that you could find some sort of first aid kit in the bathroom. As expected you were bombarded with questions, but you dismissed them quickly, making your way over to the ladies room.

One alcohol wipe and a few butterfly sutures later, you tried to sneak back to your room for some sort of respite from what ended up being a trainwreck of a morning. You were almost in the clear when you bumped into someone you really, really didn’t want to deal with. Juzo. Normally, you’d be relieved to see him, possibly even thrilled. Alas, you just wanted to be left alone with your thoughts, at least for the time being. But in a matter of seconds he was all over you, much to your chagrin- especially since you were already on the verge of tears.

“Are you okay? What happened? Maybe you should go get some rest.”

“I’m fine, Juzo, it’s nothing. Just tired.” He frowned, having been here before one too many times with you. You looked like you would break down any second, and when that happened, he didn’t want you to feel alone. He loved you more than life itself, but if he couldn’t even be there to pick you up when you fell, what kind of friend would he be? Certainly not your best one, that was for sure. He figured he should tread carefully, knowing how much you hated crying in front of others. With a sigh he reached out, hesitantly running his thumb along the underside of your cut.

“Have you tried going to bed at a decent hour? I know I sound like a broken record, but-” Having enough, you slapped his hand away out of reflex, your teary (e/c) eyes now burning with rage at his words. Gentle, well-meaning words you’ve grown accustomed to hearing for the past few weeks being the final thing pushing you over the edge.

“I said I’m fine Honenuki! My sleep habits are my business, so why don’t you leave me alone. Don’t you have anything better to do?!” You did a full 180, lashing out and raising your voice loud enough it would traumatize even Present Mic. You were a ticking time bomb from the moment you woke up that day, and Honenuki was the poor soul that just happened to cut the wrong wire.

Honenuki visibly flinched at the use of his surname. Coming from anyone else, it was just a friendly acquaintance giving him a warm greeting, or making small talk. Coming from you, however, it felt...cold. Unfamiliar. You had been calling him Juzo since you both were fifteen, forging a camaraderie after the summer camp incident and growing closer ever since. He could only blink in shock at your outburst, unable to find anything to say as his mouth went dry. You stormed off, slamming the door to your room and shaking the floor beneath him, leaving him standing there with mixed signals and a heavy heart.

Still, he knew it was only a matter of time before you’d be paying the consequence, so he really shouldn’t have been so surprised when he got a message from you less than a week later. The news came to him just before he arrived to his first class of the day, and upon reading your text, he mentally facepalmed at your stupidity. Your bad sleeping choices- coupled with the freezing rain from that fateful day- had finally caught up to you, knocking you out with a nasty bug. It was the first time you had reached out to him since then, and even if he didn’t take anything too personally, it was a little odd for you to ignore him and follow up out of the blue without closure.

(Y/N) 8:30am: Can you please tell Vlad I can’t make it to class today? I feel like utter garbage. You'll never guess why ;-;

Juzo 8:33am: Ugh! I knew it! >HHHH<

(Y/N) 8:35am: In all fairness, maybe it’s just from the rain and not my piss poor bedtime routine...?

Juzo 8:36am: Stay put. I’ll be over after class.

(Y/N) 8:38am: Cool beans. Btw I already took some nasty ass cough medicine so please don’t make me take another dose for a few hours.

Juzo 8:39am: Fine. You better take it without any arguments when it’s time.

-and with that he clicked his phone off, waiting anxiously for the bell to ring. He took an extra set of notes for you, because you had insisted ‘that’s what friends do’, and he needed to keep his mind busy. The next class was English with Present Mic, and he thanked whatever deity out there that he was bilingual. Popping in and letting him know the circumstances wouldn’t cause any harm, and he was sure Mic would be willing to get another copy of the notes.

9:30am couldn’t arrive soon enough, but as soon as Vlad dismissed the class, Honenuki made a beeline for the English classroom. He was making great time, and was sure he’d be the first one there. At least until he found himself barreling into the back of a familiar leather coat. He almost got knocked back from the sheer force and he quickly apologized, bowing his head when a loud voice stopped him in amusement.

“Woah, slow down there speed racer! Just try to be careful next time”, Present Mic laughed, and Honenuki looked up in relief to find his teacher on his way to the same destination.

“Mic-sensei! Perfect timing, I actually wanted to ask a favor. You know (y/n), my best friend? She’s sick in bed right now, so I was wondering if I could get an extra copy of the notes to bring to her? I’d write them myself but my hand is a bit cramped from doing two sets last class.” His teeth clacked nervously, hoping that he didn’t seem too desperate, especially since it could be misconstrued as something more.

Mic raised an eyebrow, and hummed in thought briefly. “Ah, young love. You’re my top student in that class so I’ll do you one better! Next period is lunch, so I’ll give you a copy real quick since the teacher’s lounge is right here. I’ll even let you leave a half hour early IF you promise to help me organize the new textbooks when the order ships on Thursday afternoon.”

Honenuki was thrilled, and nodded his head in agreement. A half hour later a hall pass was placed on the desk along with a photocopied set of notes, and he thanked Mic again, nodding gratefully before hurrying off to the dorms.

Honenuki rushed over to your bedside with a thermometer and a hot cup of tea, and you wanted nothing more than to apologize for giving him grief the last time you saw him when he was only looking out for your well being. You opened your mouth to speak.

“Juzo, I’m s-” You got cut off by a coughing fit, and he found himself rubbing comforting circles on your back before a mug was held out to you, almost like a peace offering. His eyes were soft and caring, and he muttered out encouraging words until you calmed down enough to notice what he had brought over for you.

“Don’t worry about it, we’re good. I brought you some astragalus tea. Yaoyorozu from class A said it was really good for pain relief and sickness. Shiozaki happened to have some fresh herbs growing too for brewing.” You accepted the cup gratefully, shaky hands attempting to take a tentative sip before you sneezed, spilling the hot beverage on your lap and wincing at the pain.

Honenuki panicked, fumbling for the cup and placing it on the nightstand beside you. While you knew Honenuki would never yell at you, you knew there was a pretty high chance he would at least give you a piece of his mind or even an ‘​I told you so’​. He was normally pretty laid back, so to see him so visibly worried was...jarring, to say the least. It probably didn’t help that you got teary eyed from the scalding hot beverage, and as much as you wanted to cry because of how much pain you were in, you didn’t want to deal with another post-sob migraine or stuff your nose up even more.

“I thought I told you not to stay up so late.”

There it is, ​you thought. Honenuki had told you time and time again that pulling all nighters would lower your immune system, making you more susceptible to viral infections that you may have otherwise been able to prevent with some proper rest. It was Friday morning too, and you woefully remembered that you’d have to cancel your plans for a girls’ sleepover in the dorms later that evening.

“What was so important that you had to sacrifice your hours anyway?” He chastised you gently, careful not to raise his voice too much as he put a hand to your forehead.

You sighed at your friend, leaning into his touch. His hand retracted much too quickly for your liking, and you had to take a second to compose yourself and provide a response.

“Video games...?”, you grinned sheepishly. You didn’t want to elaborate any more, hoping he would buy it.

Honenuki almost rolled his eyes at that. He knew you typically played online with a team, more specifically Awase, Tsuburaba, and Tetsutetsu. He also knew Awase had mentioned offhand yesterday that you hadn’t been on the raid team for almost a full week, and ‘​was wondering where the hell you disappeared to’​ . It’s not like you played a million other games either- you only got into it because they needed a full team of four once while Rin was away visiting his family.

“Try again, (y/n). I know you don’t dabble in much else besides Minecraft.” Defeated, you sat up, covered in sweat as your clothes felt like a layer of plastic wrap.

He began to absentmindedly rub your back, a habit which you normally found endearing, now serving as major comfort. His massages were hands down the best, and you often wondered if his quirk had anything to do with it.

“I’ll tell you all about it when I’m better, but everything hurts right now.” Honenuki nodded in understanding, and you both sat in silence for a few.

“I’m going to check your temperature. Is that okay?”, he looked at you with concern.

You hummed in agreement, and the next moment the cold metal was placed against your forehead, rolling down to your temples. You wished it was any other circumstance besides this one where his face would be close to you, because ​holy shit, he was so cute when he was focused​. If you weren’t sick as a dog you may have even had the courage to lean forward and kiss him on the teeth, but that may have just been your fever induced delirium. It beeped after about ten seconds, and he showed you the flashing 38.9°C on the little screen. From your perspective, you wondered how much of that was actually from the sickness, and how much of it was from nerves. He ruffled your hair before speaking again.

“Tell you what- go in and shower okay? You’ll feel leagues better, it’ll loosen your sinuses a little bit, plus you still have tea on your lap.” His teeth clacked as he chuckled good-naturedly.

You grumbled at the realization, and rolled out of bed to clean yourself up a bit. You left a big patch of sweat on your sheets, so Honenuki offered to run them to the laundry room and see if he could find some cough medicine in the meantime. You thanked him, your voice still raspy and gave him an affectionate headbutt before you left.

After you disappeared down the hallway with a towel, he got to work for a few minutes when his phone buzzed. Kurorio’s picture popped up on the caller ID, and Juzo unlocked his phone to accept the call.

“Heard your girlfriend’s not feeling too well?” inquired Kurorio.

“Kuro, hey man! Um, (y/n) and I are still just friends. Would be cool though.” Honenuki slapped a hand over his mouth at his wording, hoping that Kurorio would buy it (he did not).

“I’m just taking care of her for the time being, taking her temp, washing the sheets, you know?”. Kurorio hummed suspiciously, but changed the subject.

Honenuki pulled up the topsheet with both hands while balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear as he bantered back and forth with one of his classmates. Kurorio was cracking jokes about how much dogs in general look like their owners. Especially their homeroom teacher, Vlad King and his English bulldog.

“It's the underbite! I know the former doesn’t have the floppy jowls, but I just can’t get over the underbite!” he had said, as Honenuki was quick to mention the square shoulders probably didn’t help much either. The two of them broke into a fit of laughter as Honenuki bunched up the sheets and pillowcases into the comforter like a knapsack, about to make his way downstairs when something wooden was peeking out from between the top sheet and fitted one.

It was a simple embroidery hoop with some aida cloth stretched over it, and various colors of thread knotted and going every which way. He flipped it over cautiously, ​YOU SOFTEN MY HEART ​was stitched in neatly inside a simple little border of what looked like Astragalus blossoms, and a small tapestry needle dangled below the messier side of the work. 

Honenuki was intrigued- he never knew you could cross stitch! Of course it was nowhere near completion, but the black outline you started with was kind of a dead giveaway. It was like you blocked everything out first and built a foundation before finishing the more complex portions. It had to be planned out, the craftsmanship was too deliberate, too precise to just be done one stitch at a time while still maintaining consistent proportions. It was definitely a bit of an odd phase to copy onto what would likely be a keepsake, and he puzzled over the reasoning behind it when a wrinkled piece of graph paper under the bed caught his eye.

He smoothed out the pattern you had drafted so carefully, and he was thoroughly impressed at the detail in the work. But everything seemed to click in his brain when at the very top of the sketched out pattern were the words ​Birthday Gift: 06/20. That, and the post-it note on the side that said ​It’s for Juzo you lovesick bitch so make sure you practice, practice, practice!

Was that why you were up so much? Were you learning a brand new skill this far in advance to make something for ​him?​ His birthday wasn’t even for another month, but when it came to art projects, you were always planning and organizing to create the best results. He decided to set the pieces on your desk and went back to stripping the last of your bedsheets to take down to the laundry room. It would be a while before they were dry and clean enough to put back, so if you finished up before then, he figured he could just grab a couple blankets from his own bed right across the hallway.

“Huh, that’s really pretty”, he muttered absentmindedly.

Kurorio’s interest was piqued, and before either of them knew it, the conversation went back to (y/n) as Honenuki continued to tidy up for about ten more minutes.

“Yeah, I brought her tea, and sent her in to shower. She should be fine in a couple of da-“ THUD​. Seeing as how you two were the only ones in the dorms, the noise was no doubt from you. Honenuki paled, but tried to stay composed even though his mind was racing.

“You were saying?”, Kurorio was snickering on the other line, not even trying to hide his amusement.

He knew his friend had a growing crush on you, and as much as he wanted to tease him about it he knew Honenuki was stressed enough already.

“I’ll call you back.”

And with that Honenuki found himself clicking the “end call” button and booking it towards the bathroom down the empty halls of the dorms. He tried not to seem too worried, praying you just dropped a bottle or something. Still, when you were in such a state he couldn’t help the looming sense of dread that you had gotten hurt somehow.

“(Y/N)? Everything okay there?”

Silence.

He knocked again, only to be met with a pained groan from the other side. Common sense was thrown out the window as he turned the knob and found you sprawled out on the floor, face down, a little wet, but thankfully still fully clothed with the shower running. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or just confused, and if it weren’t for your labored breathing the whole thing would very much look like a crime scene.

He kneeled down to your level. “What are you even doing? I thought you were going to shower”, he asked softly as he tried to flip you on your side.

You blinked slowly, assuming fetal position as you responded.

“Water hot. Floor cold.” Just as you went to press your burning cheek back against the tile, a pair of arms scooped you up.

He didn’t even have time to be embarrassed as he set you on the countertop by the sink and helped you peel off your now soaked top, tossing it to the side. He took the hand towel hanging up next to you, folding it lengthwise and ran it under some cold water before holding it up to your forehead. Your normally healthy (h/c) hair was matted and smelled of sweat, and it looked like a real bitch to comb through. You seemed to realize just how much of a mess you were, and couldn’t help but feel tears of humiliation bubbling up. This didn’t go unnoticed by him though, and his brows pinched together in concern. Before he could ask what was the matter, you sighed ruefully.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with me like this”, you muttered.

God, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. The man you’ve admired since day one was seeing you at rock bottom, and the shame was almost too much to bear. Honenuki, being the saint he was, just rubbed your back soothingly and told you not to worry. Still, there was a growing dread in the pit of your stomach, and you wondered why he was pitying you. Could things get any worse?

Indeed they could. Before you could stop yourself, the little bit of tea, as well as the crackers that you had consumed earlier somehow found its way back ​up ​and all over the front of not just you, but your best friend and longtime crush as well. There wasn’t a whole lot in your stomach, but the amount of it wasn’t what worried you- it was that you did it in the first place.

You started crying all over again, apologies spilling out of your mouth as you hyperventilated. This was it, there was no way he’d want anything to do with you now. He’d probably be too disgusted to keep helping you, and as soon as everyone got back to the dorms, word would get out, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. His stunned silence only made you more anxious, and you prepared for the worst when he took off his tee shirt and started wiping you off as best as he could. He put the soiled shirt into the corner before grabbing the wet towel and wiping off more of it, cleaning up the mess. Finally, he looked down at you, and squeezed your shoulder affectionately.

“It was an accident, (y/n) it’s fine. I’ll be right back”.

Now it was your turn to be stunned as you sat dumbly on the countertop for a minute until he reappeared with lysol wipes, a new towel, a jar of Eucalyptus mint soap scrub, and a fluffy bathrobe.

He turned on one of the showers, waiting for it to be a good temperature before turning back to you. “Go ahead and get in the shower. I’ll clean up.”

You didn’t have the energy to object as you shuffled over to the stall, peeling all your clothes off and getting in, albeit sitting on the floor- you didn’t want to risk falling over again. After a few minutes, you could feel your sinuses clearing a little bit. Enough for you to talk a sentence or two at least. After the events that transpired, you found some solace knowing that your best friend must ​really ​care about you to stick around and help you during a time like this. You remembered how he’d blush whenever someone asked if you were dating. You had nothing else to lose at this point, so your feverish brain made a bold decision and you stuck your head out to find him still waiting outside.

“I’m not gonna let you sit covered in vomit. And I know you’re too stubborn to leave my side to go wash up somewhere else, so get in here.”

Honenuki was at a loss for words. Was it really fair to you? You were the one inviting him in. But then again, you did have a point- he really did plan to wait it out. He’d do it a hundred times for your sake. Would it be weird? It wasn’t like you were toddlers anymore, whose mothers wanted to get a cute picture in a bubble bath- you guys were in your final year of high school, and if the note he found in your room was any kind of proof, you were just as in love with him as he was you...but there was no one else in the dorms, and the opportunity was practically handed to him on a silver platter. You were just a sick friend in need of help, right? Except you saw him as something more than that, he wasn’t stupid. And while in any other case an invitation to share a shower would be implying some sort of ulterior motive, he knew you well enough to know that you were genuinely looking to help him. Just with the added bonus of seeing a different side of you.

So he took off his shorts, opting to leave his boxers on just in case. He was silently grateful that the water was a colder temperature to ease not just your fever, but his racing thoughts as well. Keeping them on probably wouldn’t do too much to hide his arousal if they were going to get soaking wet anyway and just cling to him as a result, but at least this way he could keep it hidden from plain sight. He opened up the jar and passed it to you, which you gratefully accepted, but not before taking a deep whiff of the soothing scent. He sat behind you criss-cross applesauce, and gently took the plastic comb from you as you kept trying to yank it through your hair.

“Allow me”, he said, squeezing some shampoo out and lathering it on your head. Occasionally, the foam would fall onto your body and you’d have to flick it away with wet hands. These motions only made it that much more difficult for Honenuki to keep his eyes off your supple, soft curves. The slope of your back to your ass looked almost too inviting with the white suds cascading down in rivulets. He groaned inaudibly when you wiped a particularly large cluster of bubbles from off your chest, trying not to stare for too long.

He coughed, grabbing your attention. “Can you lean back more?”.

You tilted your head back, sighing in content as he massaged your scalp, taking great care to not get soap in your eyes. He reached for the shower head when you stopped him. You lathered up some shampoo and repeated the process on him, making sure to spike his hair up as high as you could. Then you did the same for yourself before you both turned to each other, and broke down into a fit of much needed giggles at how ridiculous you both looked. Maybe laughter really was the best medicine.

He rinsed your hair off and proceeded with the conditioner, combing it through one section at a time. It was one thing to absentmindedly play with the ends of it whenever the two of you were hanging out in close proximity, but to go through it so thoroughly and gently was surprisingly intimate, especially given your current scenario. Honenuki and you have been close for years now, maybe not quite since diapers but long enough for you to realize that he had already seen most (if not all) sides of you- and likewise, you of him. The man had somehow managed to stick by you through your awkward middle school years, to the rough days of early highschool and hero training, and even now when you were suffering the consequence of going against his advice.

You thought you were only crushing on him before, but after having him see you so vulnerable and ​still s​ tand by you, you realized the idea of spending the rest of your life with him sounded even more appealing than before, if that was possible. You, (y/n) (l/n), were in love with your best friend Juzo Honenuki, and after the events that transpired this morning, you were okay with that.

“So that’s what you use to get your hair to smell like (f/f)...” his thoughts were accidentally voiced out loud, breaking you out of your reverie. You nodded slowly, and the soft clack of his teeth was heard behind you. “It’s nice. I like it!”, he said more confidently this time before he picked up the bottle to read it.

“Thanks, you want some?”, you questioned hoarsely, but since your voice was still sore it was very difficult to be heard over the running water.

You didn’t get a response, either because you weren’t loud enough, or he was too absorbed in the words printed neatly on the bottle.

“Juzo?” He hummed in response, which you took as a yes.

If he let you use that fancy ass scrub for your illness, you figured the least you could do was share your leave-in treatment. Sharing is caring.

“Here, let me” You attempted to rotate yourself to face him so you could condition his hair too.

He glanced back up from the directions on the back, and you thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. Dropping the comb he stammered, trying to maintain eye contact and not look down. He gulped, and all the words he had on the top of his tongue vanished when you plucked the comb from the wet shower floor and placed it on your thigh. You tried to reach a bit to get the conditioner bottle from him. This was a leave in conditioner, so your own (h/l) hair was still plastered down until it “set” for seven minutes. The excess dripped from the ends, down your back and shoulders, giving your body a light sheen. Your bare chest slid against his arm, and the bottle fell with a harsh clatter. He averted his eyes to look anywhere but at you, but it was kinda difficult when you were-

A. Naked

B. Feverish and flushed

C. Half straddling him

D. Covered in copious amounts of wet foam.

“Are you sure? I’m the one that’s supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around,” Your breasts were inches from his face, and Hoenuki swore he could feel his soul leaving his body when he finally had enough, frantically shoving the bottle in your hands.

“Juzo, you’ve helped me so much already, and it’s not even eleven am yet.” And with that he promptly shut his mouth and let you get to work on returning the favor. You squeezed out some onto your hands before rubbing them together. “Turn around and tip your head back- you’re taller than me and I can’t see.”

He normally loved massages (especially if they came from you after a long day of training), and how quickly your skillful hands would put him at ease, but he knew you weren’t really feeling your best today. He didn’t want to push you too far, but the sentiment was still appreciated nonetheless. You obviously couldn’t go for as long or apply as much pressure before your arms got tired and you started to ache a little, but you didn’t mind brushing his long, sandy blond locks. He was still grateful for the little bit that you were able to do, and you wondered how the universe could bless you with someone this sweet.

After seven minutes passed, Honenuki stood up and grabbed the shower head above you and rinsed out your hair, being extra careful to make sure each section was covered, and out of your face with a wide tooth comb in the other hand. You were still seated, and this gave him a bird’s eye view of not just your backside, but your front as well. He swore to himself he was only in to help you out, but ​fuck​, if you weren’t contagious he’d seriously consider taking you right then and there. You peered up at him through wet lashes, and to make matters worse you were nearly eye level with his straining erection. He was almost certain you noticed, but knowing you, you were too kind to comment on it. 

Eager to get out before things went south, or- god forbid- he did something impulsive he’d possibly regret, he quickly repeated the process on himself. After you were both rinsed, he switched the lever to “off” and turned to look down at you.

“I’m going to help you stand up, okay?”, his voice was calm, but assertive as he pulled back the curtains and stepped backwards out of the shower. Still seated, you spun around, and moved to push yourself up. You were halfway there when he threw a towel around your back and put his arms under yours. You suddenly felt more self conscious than ever, and as much as you wanted to drool over how toned he had gotten from years in the hero program, you couldn’t help but feel a lingering sense of inadequacy at your own figure. You trembled slightly, fever chills slowly coming back now that the water was off, and your legs shaking like a baby deer.

“Juzo careful, I’m gonna sli-”

Before you could finish your sentence, you slipped on the shower floor and went tumbling forwards. Yet instead of meeting a face full of tile for the second time in the hour, you found yourself leaning into Honenuki’s protective embrace. Your breasts were pressed up against his torso, and you both found yourselves relishing the feeling of fitting together just right.

“You feel more refreshed?” He asked as he wrapped the rest of the thick towel around you.

You nodded, genuinely relieved that you were no longer covered in sweat, vomit, or tears. And you smelled damn good to boot. You still felt sick, but now at least you could heal comfortably.

~ ~ ~

“Your sheets aren’t ready yet, so you can sleep here for a little while.”

You were being carried into his dorm, wearing his fluffy robe that he had lent you after you had freshened up. He was originally just going to lend you some blankets, but he figured you’d be more comfortable in a made bed- that, and he could keep an eye on you. He went to set you down, but instead of letting go, you held onto him tighter. Honenuki glanced down at you, nuzzling into him for comfort and sighing softly. You were still a little bit warm, and your voice was raspy, but you seemed much better than you were just a short while ago. Now that you were showered and medicated (not to mention under the care of someone who’s presence just generally put you at ease no matter what), you felt like you could get better fairly quickly.

You didn’t know what you’d do without Honenuki at your side, and found yourself mumbling “please don’t go yet” when he tried to tuck you in.

Your request caught his attention, and he checked again for confirmation that he heard you correctly.

“You...want me to stay?”, Honenuki asked you curiously, a rosy hue growing on his face. The only response he got was an exhausted hum of approval, and a small nod.

“Am I some sort of alternative medicine? Can’t get enough of me?”, he joked, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at how adorably clingy you were when you were sleepy.

You were too sick to get flustered at his comment, and even if he did call you out on blushing, at least you could use your fever as an excuse.

“Alright, let me get something lighter. I know that robe is comfy, but you’ll bake yourself alive in it.” Reluctantly, you let go so he could go to his dresser drawer and find you some makeshift pajamas.

“I’m a hot snack, sorry. I gotta be wrapped up and baking”, you croaked out, smiling weakly.

It hurt like a bitch, but seeing the amused shake of his head and smiling eyes at your stupid joke was well worth it in your opinion.

He tossed a tee shirt and some boxers in your direction, and you sat up to slip the robe off. Almost immediately he whipped his head away from you so fast, you thought he’d get whiplash. It was rather cute, actually- he had already seen you naked not even ten minutes ago, and had known you for about a third of his life- but the way he cleared his throat and mumbled out a soft apology was one of the sweetest things you’ve seen from him. Your robe hit the ground and you slipped on the shirt first, before you moved to tug up the boxer shorts. Making sure everything was in place, you turned to your best friend. He still had his back to you, but you could see the very tips of his ears flushed scarlet.

Seeing him so flustered was still a relatively new sight to you, but adorable nonetheless. You took a couple seconds after you were dressed to just appreciate the sight before you, committing it to your memory. Honenuki sensed the silence that settled around the room, no longer hearing the shuffling of fabric behind him and cleared his throat before he spoke up.

“You’re all set then?”, for someone who was normally composed you noticed Honenuki’s voice was uncharacteristically shaky, and he still refused to look at you as he had a hand blocking his peripheral line of sight. He was such a gentleman- you almost felt bad for flustering him so much.

“Yeah, thank you Juzo. I don’t have a bra or underwear, but if I’m being honest I think this is more comfortable.” You wanted to slap yourself for oversharing- while this fever was making coherent thoughts and common sense a bit more difficult, you couldn’t help but inwardly cringe at your lack of a filter.

Still, he plopped himself into bed behind you, pulling you into his chest and massaging your back. Your sinuses were still a bit clogged even after the shower, but his hands worked wonders when it came to easing your pain, and it didn’t take long for you to fall into a light slumber. You sighed contentedly, closing your eyes.

He could only hope that after you were fully healed, he’d be able to fully confess his feelings for you, and after how you two interacted that morning, he realized his friends insisting that you felt the same for him might not be so crazy after all. But for now, he just wanted to enjoy this moment, as friends, because your friendship was more than enough for him if it meant he could have moments like these. The day he confessed would come eventually, right? You guys were definitely more than friends, it just wasn’t official yet. ​Someday​, he thought wistfully. ​Someda-

“Thanks for softening my pain, Juzo. I love you.”

‘​...!”​

His eyes shot open at that, and he briefly wondered if he heard you correctly. ​Of course she meant you, idiot. Who else would she be talking to? H​ e wanted to twirl you around the room with a resounding ​I love you too! I always have!,​ he wanted to scream it from the top of the rooftops, and celebrate once and for all, but just as quickly as you had uttered the words, you fell asleep in his arms, and he was certain you could hear his racing heart through his chest. It wasn’t from nervousness however- it was the sheer joy, the anticipation of when he could finally ask you to be not just his best friend but his ​girlf​ riend, from relief of knowing you would say yes.

He now had verbal confirmation that you felt the same. The ball was in his court now, and as soon as you got better, he was going to make up for so much lost time. Even though you couldn’t hear him, he pressed his teeth gently to your forehead and held you closer, drawing heart shapes on your back.

“I love you too, (y/n).”

~ ~ ~

Thank you so much for reading this labor of love! I’d love to hear your feedback, and I’m always open to new ideas <3

[donny-donuts]

July 28th, Day 3

Prank and Party

("Both. Both is good")

@serohantaweek

Original sketch: Kōhei Horikoshi

Editing: me

Everything was going according to their plan.

The "Cellophane Stans" worked hard for an entire month before the fateful day because what they would organize must be the most memorable birthday party of all time.

Sero Hanta didn't know that some admirers had founded a super secret fan club for him, however, he probably never imagined this group included only two members.

"I can't wait to see his face when he'll find out what kind of "surprise" we are preparing"- commented Honenuki laughing

"It's more a prank if you ask me"- Todoroki said in a serious way - "He'll die of embarrassment"

"Trust me, it'll worth the pain"

"How did you convince her to help us?

"Quite easily, actually"- Juzo seemed extremely proud about it - "I simply told to our girl that "a certain someone" will pay attention. A lot of it."

"Are any romance involved in this?"

"Of course, my Red-and-White friend"

They both became Cellophane's supporters due to different reasons: one felt guilty regarding that Giant Iceberg's Incident during the Sport Festival, the other saw a few resemblances between his and Sero's Hero Costume.

Using the status of recommended student, Honenuki obtained permission to use the gym for the surprise party and, after that, he started decorating the place begging almost everyone from Class 1-A and Class 1-B to come in his aid.

Meanwhile, Shouto tried to distract Sero with not great results. 

"Something's wrong"- Sero already had some suspects

"...Do you think so?..." 

"We are walking around the campus for two hours by now. And you seems more strange than usual"

"I'm not hiding anything!"- Todoroki spoke loudly without realising

"These words sound like a confession to me"- Hanta watched him triumphant - "So, tell me, what's going on?"

"Damn, he screwed me..."

Defeated and with no choices left, Shouto led his friend to the party's location praying the whole thing was ready.

Fortunately, when they entered the gym, everyone began to wish "Happy Birthday" for the black haired boy who clearly didn't expect such a celebration.

However, he remained puzzled when Satou brought an incredibly huge cake, orange flavoured.

"Thanks"- thought Hanta happily - "this is the best birthday ever!"

"To be honest, the real "main attraction" will appear soon"

"Red-and-White friend is right" - Honenuki couldn't stop to move for the excitement - "Lizardy, now it's up to you!"

Suddenly, Setsuna Tokage jumped out the cake wearing only a black two-piece swimsuit.

Sero froze at the view of her and died of embarrassment with a stupid grin in his face.

Juzo laughed hysterically due to his reaction while Todoroki checked if he was still alive.

The tape guy stared at the girl in astonishment, not believing his crush since the Joint Training accepted to do something unpredictable and, he had to admit it, sexy.

He focused so much on Tokage that he didn't even notice when she approached him several minutes later.

"I hope you enjoyed the show" - she playfully winked

"...y-yes, a-amazing..."

"Good, I'm really, really glad to hear it."

Sero hadn't the time to answer back because Setsuna gave him her "special" birthday present: a kiss on the cheek.

"Cellophane.exe" has stopped working"- commented Todoroki not surprised - "again"

"Our super secret fan club has gained another member! We become more and more every day!"

"Juzo, I think I spotted some romance over there" - Shouto pointed out watching the newly born couple - "Sero just covered Tokage with his jacket"

"See, this is what I call a "perfect victory"

"Are you quoting Bakugou?"

"Of course, my Red-and-White friend"

The two boys kept an eye on them from the distance attempting not to ruin that sweet atmosphere.

[annemiek19]

He’s doing a JJ thing. He’ll come around - JJ Maybank

A/N another JJ imagine. God, that boy has taken over my life haha. is there anything you want to read? Please let me know!

Summary:

You’re best friends with JJ Maybank, but that isn't always easy. Not when you have feelings for him and he vanish again.

Materlist

You can request an imagine here.

Being friends with JJ Maybank wasn’t always the easiest thing in the world. You know about his dad, but in a result to that, JJ would sometimes vanish for days, he would act out and do the craziest things in the world. Right now was one of these moments. JJ has left two days ago with saying a single thing to his friends. You, secretly having feelings of him, were worried. You know this is his type of thing to do, but you still worried about him. He didn’t deserve this. You wanted to be there for him, so bad, but you were afraid he would find out how you felt about him. You didn’t want to lose him as a friend, so you kept it quiet. No one knew about how you truly felt about JJ. Kie had asked you about it once and you lied about it, another rule broken. 

Right now, you were hanging at the chateau. You were all laying in the hammock. You mind kept wondering about JJ. Where would he be? Would he be okay? Does he have food?

“Are you sure we don’t have to look for him?” You asked your friends. 

You jointed the friend group the latest. You moved here almost two years ago. You met your friends at a party, or a kegger, as they call it. You were like Kie, going to the kook academy, but being a pogue by heart. You liked going on an adventure, surfing all day and having the most fun you ever had in your life. You quickly realized what was going on between JJ and his dad. And from the moment you found out, you were the person he turned to when something happened. You cleaned him up, layed with him in silence while you held him. You don’t know why he turned to you, but you liked it. Slowly you started to get feelings for the blonde haired boy. But your friends had two rules: no pogue on pogue macking and no lying to a pogue. You broke those two rules by falling in love with JJ Maybank and lying about it to your best friend Kie. 

“Don’t worry to much Y/N. He’s fine,” Pope said. 

“He does this all the time. He will show up in a few days and act like nothing happened,” John B said. 

“And you’re okay with that? You don’t worry about why he has run off again or how bad he’s doing right now? What if he’s lying dead somewhere and we’re not doing anything,” you said. Kie looked up to you, surprised how much you cared for JJ. 

“Of course we care and yes we worry, but this has been going on for so long. The longest he was gone for was almost a whole month. Yes, after a few days we started to look for him, but if JJ doesn’t want to be found, you will never find him,” Kie explains to you. 

“It’s a JJ thing. He will walk away and turn up in a few days like nothing happened. He’ll come around,” John B explained for the millionth time. Every time this happened, you asked them the same. You had the same argument about it. But this time, you felt like something was very wrong and you couldn’t shake the feeling. You got out of the hammock. 

“Were are you going?” Pope asked. 

“Looking for my best friend,” you said and walked away from the group. They didn’t come after you, they never did. They knew it was pointless. JJ didn’t want to be found, but you couldn’t care less. 

You got on your bike and started to go through the neighborhood. You went to every spot you could think of. Once you were done on the cut, you started to make your way to figure eight. You knew he would never be there, but you just needed to see for yourself. His friends would never look for him here, so it would be a good hiding spot. But if Rafe or Topper found him there, all hell would break lose. You circled around your neighborhood and you ended up at your favorite spot, the mini forest as you liked to call it. It was a piece of the island where the trees were so close together, it created a mini forest. You sat down on a fallen tree and looked around. Why wouldn’t he just text you? Just an ‘I’m okay’ would be enough. Just something so you know he would be okay. But JJ never texted you when he vanish. All these nights of cleaning him up, laying with him, talking about the most stupid shit, meant more to you then you would ever admit. You liked laying next to him. You liked how you could take his mind of the pain for just a few hours. And that’s why you didn’t understand why he had to run away. He could stay with you for as long as he needed. But you also knew he would never do that. He didn’t want to be a burden. You looked around when you heart the branches snapping. And that’s when you met his gaze. 

“JJ,” you mumbled. He froze in his spot. You jaw dropped. His face was covered in cuts, his lip was swollen, his eye was bruised. Everywhere were you looked, you saw a bruise. 

“Hey Y/N,” he said casual like nothing happened. You stood up from the tree and slowly walked over to him. 

“oh my god,” you whispered. 

“It’s fine. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“So that’s why you ran away? Because you can handle it?” You ask him. You can’t help but feel mad. After everything he still acted like it was nothing, like it doesn’t hurt him. 

“Just stop being emotional about it. I’m fine. What are you doing here anyway? It’s almost dark.” You haven’t noticed that the sun was already setting. You were to caught up thinking about him. 

“I was looking for you.”

“Why?” You looked at him. 

“Seriously? You really have to ask me that? God, you’re unbelievable.” You shook your head and started to walk away from him, back to your bike. 

“What do you mean?” he yelled at you. You turned around back to him. 

“You vanished, JJ, again! I didn’t hear a single thing from you and I was worried. I didn’t know if you were okay, where you were and how bad your dad got you. For all I know, you could’ve been dead!” you yelled back at him. “You know, every time you come to me with another cut on your face I feel my heart break for you. I want to help you so bad, so I do the best I can. I’ll always be there for you and you know the door is always open. You can stay for as long as you want, but you decided to run away, again and again and you never let me know if you were okay. How would you feel if I did the same thing? Would you just give up on me? Wait for me to get back? Or will you lose your mind and search the whole damn island to see if I’m somewhere? But you know what, JJ, why would I look for you? Why would I care so much for you? Because you clearly don’t feel the same!” With that being said, you left JJ behind in shock and you started to make your way home, as fast as you could. 

When you arrived home, your cheeks were stained with tears. You yelled at him. You said he didn’t care for you. You said you weren’t going to look for him anymore. It broke you heart once you realized what you had said. You wanted to apologize, but you couldn���t. Every time JJ left, he took a piece of you with him. Every time that piece got bigger, because every time you cared more for him. You cared so much for him and now you snapped at him. 

“Are you okay honey? Where have you been?” Your mom asks when you walk into the kitchen. 

“Nowhere. I’m fine.” You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. 

“Is it about JJ? Did something happen to him?” You shook your head. 

“It’s a JJ thing. He’ll come around,” you quote John B. You hurried up the stairs and let yourself fall on your bed. The tears started to make their way down your cheeks again and you hated how much you cared for the boy. You decided to take a shower. At least there you wouldn’t notice that you were crying. At first, the warm water relaxed your muscles. But then you started to think and the crying started again. How could you be so stupid? It was clear that this was an act for attention. He wasn’t okay. He needed someone to be there for him and you pushed him away. You yelled at him, said he didn’t care. Right at this moment, you hated yourself. 

You got out of the shower and slowly got yourself dressed. You wanted this day to be over. You wanted to go to bed and hope this was all just a bad dream. You walked back to your room and let out a scream when you say someone standing in the corner of your room. 

“You asshole!” You yelled at him and threw your towel towards him. He didn’t try to catch it. He stood frozen in his place. “JJ, what the hell are you doing here?” You were not in the mood to see him right now. You walked over to your bed and sat down.

“I’m sorry,” he said and you could hear his voice break. You turned your face to him. He took a step towards you and now you saw his face. His cheeks were stained with tears. There were even more bruises on his face than just an hour ago. 

“Oh JJ,” you mumbled, suddenly feeling sorry for him. 

“I was going to kill him, Y/N. I was going to do it. But he was drunk and stronger,” he said and completely broke down.

“Come here,” you said with a soft voice, trying to hold back your own tears. JJ walked over to you and layed down next to you. You pulled him into your embrace and he broke down. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for leaving. I’m so so sorry,” he said. 

“It’s okay, Jay. It’s okay,” you said while rubbing his back. “You’re going to be okay.” Your door opened. Your mom looked at you in surprise.

“I heard you scream,” she said. JJ his head shot up. 

“I’m so sorry mrs Y/L/N. I’m so sorry. I can leave. I can go,” he said to your mom. 

“No, you stay for as long as you want. You’re welcome anytime. Y/N will show you the guest room.” With that being said, your mom walked away. JJ layed down again. 

“Is it really okay if I stay?” 

“For as long as you want. This house is big enough to give shelter to the whole island,” you joked. JJ didn’t laugh. 

“I’m sorry you thought I didn’t care about you. I do, more then you will ever know. I just needed time.”

“I know. You’re here now. But please, don’t even do this again. Like my mom said, you can stay for as long as you want whenever you want.” JJ eyes met yours. 

“God, I’m really sorry for hurting you,” he says. Are you kidding me? Even now he is in so much pain and he apologizes for causing you pain.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you said slightly smiling at him. “But don’t even do this again because I will kill you myself. I care too much about you to have go missing again.” “Why do you care so much about me, Y/N. I don’t get it.” Now you had to come clean. Now you had to tell him how you really felt. 

“Because I like you, a lot. More than just friends.” JJ didn’t say a single word. You knew he didn’t feel the same about you. You knew it and now you ruined your friendship. JJ looked at you. He slowly reached up to you and placed his lips on yours. You were surprised at fist, but then you kissed him back. 

“I like you too, more than just friends,” JJ said and smiled at you.

[kuratoki]

Changes 6.5

Annyeong~ So it’s been a long time since Changes was last updated...was it? Honestly I can’t remember >< I’ve been wanting to post more consistently so instead of posting a chapter time I finish one, I decided to finish the whole story instead and this post means...CHANGES IS COMING TO AN END!! I’m thinking no more than 3-4 more chapters before I get started on the SEQUEL! Distance

Depending on the flow of things, I may post every other day as I bust out the sequel and another fic that I have in the works so I can post them co-consecutively but we shall see...anyways, thanks for supporting Changes ^-^

Also I think I may have bias switched six times this comeback. Just saying.

Do you agree that things change in time? Well four years abroad would tell wouldn’t it?

Pairing: Reader x Jeno ft. NCT

Words: 4769 (Why was this longer than the last chapter T-T)

Warning: Mild swearing

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 6.5

“So are you guys thinking about joining the club?” Doyoung asked.

After school activities were done and a large group of people which consisted of various members of the NCT Dance Club and a few others were at a restaurant to welcome Renjun, Chenle to the school as well as welcoming back Sicheng.

“WinWin said we had no choice.” Chenle answered, “He said it was part of the transfer requirement.” 

“Transfer requirement.” Taeyong said, using his fingers as air quotes, “It’s your choice but from what we’ve heard, it’d be great to have you both. I heard you aren’t a dance major Chenle.” 

“I’m a voice major.” Chenle said and pointed at Renjun, “He’s the dance major.” 

“Speaking of dance,” Renjun said wiping his mouth, “Jeno, I heard you won the National School dance competition as a junior soloist last year.”

Jeno looked up at the boy mid bite and nodded his head.

“Are you planning on competing again this year?” Renjun asked curiously and you looked at Jeno with the same curious look, wondering if he too was planning on competing. 

“I’m still deciding.” Jeno said, mouth full of meat before swallowing, “I might just compete in the group dance this year. Give someone else a go. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. I heard through some friends that you really stole the show.” he said with a small smirk that Jeno picked up on and his eyes narrowed, “Wish I saw it myself.” 

You looked at Renjun, wondering what he meant by that and the bright smile your friend gave you made you suspicious. It was that, I’m going to do something stupid but I also know what I’m doing smile. First he cut you off in the library and now he was asking weird questions.

“Yea! Jeno’s dance was one of the best I’ve ever seen him perform.” Mark said hyping him up, “It was so emotional yet so powerful. Totally deserved the national title.” 

Many people around the table agreed and Doyoung almost looked like a proud father.

“Must’ve been about someone then.” Renjun said with a nod, “You know what they say, the piece comes out more meaningful when it’s meant for someone else.” 

 “It’s like how Y/N’s contemporary piece got her the role of Omlgmlsml” Chenle started but you were quick to lean over and muffle the brunette boy with a steamed bun and the look you gave him told him to shut up.

Renjun turned to look at you in shock, he knew what Chenle was going to say and he was surprised you didn’t tell any of your friends about it.

“You never told them you were THE Odette?” Renjun gasped and curious heads turned towards your conversation as your friends around you stared at you in shock, making you smack your head down on the table. This was not how you wanted your biggest secret to come out.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want anyone to know. You were still healing from your sprained knee at the time of auditions and despite all the late night practices(doctor approved) with Renjun, you weren’t confident. Even when Renjun said you were a shoe in for the part, you felt like you couldn’t do it. In the end you skipped the audition. What you didn’t know was that Renjun already had a plan B and that was what got you the role. 

The day the roles were announced, you were floored to see that you got the part of the Swan Princess herself. When you asked the casting director how you got the role without auditioning, he had told you that your audition video made most of the team cry and they couldn’t not have you as their Swan Princess. 

You knew Renjun was behind this right away and you wondered what video he had submitted on your behalf. Of course you couldn’t be mad at him even though he went behind your back. He was one of the few who knew that your dream was to play Odette in the Swan Lake Ballet production and thanks to him, you were able to achieve that dream.

The production consisted of the top ballet dancers of the junior level and students all over Europe auditioned for various parts. It was a grueling process that took several months and many students waited anxiously for the results. Once the roles were announced, the new cast would spend half a year in London practicing before performing for sold out shows in one of London’s most well known theaters. 

The year that you were in the production, the producers wanted to do something fun and made you wear an elaborate Swan mask throughout the production. On the promo poster  the only persons name who was not mentioned was yours and the picture was of Renjun as the Prince and you wearing that swan mask. Only those who attended the shows would’ve seen your face but tickets at the time were limited. You would think that you’d invite your friends along with your parents to at least one of the shows but no, you only invited WinWin and his family along with your parents. This was your best kept secret. What you didn’t know is that it was also known as the best portrayal of Odette performed by a junior.

“You were Odette?” Hana asked with wide eyes, “With Renjun?” 

“Mhm.” you said muffled.

“But Renjun was the Prince for the Select Junior Ballet performance…” Jisung said looking down before he looked at you in shock, “W-Why didn’t you tell anyone?” 

“What’s chicken little getting at?” Yuta asked looking around the group and Renjun had the urge to smack you in the face but reached over and started to shake you violently instead.

“Are you serious right now? I get that you wore a mask for like half the production and your name wasn’t even in the program for surprise sakes but it’s literally you in the promo poster they’re using to promote the ballet even now!” he raged, “Why didn’t you tell anyone?! Were you that embarrassed to dance with me?! Your nickname was fucking Swan Princess for fucks sakes!” 

“Stooooop!!” you whined, sitting up straight and attempted to stop Renjun from shaking you as your stomach had yet to settle, “You know I didn’t want the attention. I wasn’t going to audition and then you went and submitted the tape behind my back.”

“We promised that we’d audition together!” Renjun growled, “And what do you do? Not even show up for the audition. Thank goodness I made that excuse that you were sick and they let you send in an audition tape instead.”

“Which you broke into my apartment to get.” you growled back, “The key I gave you was for emergency’s only.” 

“Yea and that was an emergency.” Renjun argued, “You were already set for the part and I was not going to put the hours of practice we put into it to waste!” 

“I only rehearsed with you because you wanted to audition!” you exclaimed, agitation evident in your voice.

“Guys cut it out.” Chenle called out from his seat fed up with his friends behavior, “This is why people still think you hate each other!” 

During the time, Jeno, Jisung and Jaemin could only observe your bickering with Renjun like a ping pong match. It was a side of you neither of them was familiar with and truth be told, Renjun was the only person who was able to bring this side out of you.

The two of you met on the first day of practices your first year and truth be told, you didn’t like each other right away. The two of you came into the academy under high recommendation from your previous schools so the expectations for you were high. In the beginning, the two of you would discreetly argue over the smallest of things, Renjun always acting more superior. It wasn’t till you were paired for a project that you had to suck it up and get along. 

You found out that when you weren’t arguing or being nitpicky over the others posture, you actually had very decent conversations. He also had this weird side which you weren’t sure if you should be taking seriously or not but in the end, the two of you became as close as bread and butter. 

“So this is a normal thing?” Jisung asked Chenle and the boy nodded.

“There’s something wrong when a day goes by where they actually agree on something. But he’s her Ying to his Yang and they both brought out the best in each other.” Chenle said eyeing his two friends who were now getting harassed by Hana for not inviting her to such an iconic performance, “He helped her heal.”

“Jeno?” Jisung asked curiously as he looked at Jeno, who was looking somewhat annoyed with the way Renjuns arm had yet to leave your shoulders and you, who was completely immersed in a story Renjun was telling. “Renjun helped her with the piece?”

“He helped her get her emotions out.” Chenle corrected, “The choreo was all her. She performed it for her end of year recital and ended up winning first place that year...she was supposed to come back the year after and claim her spot back but she got into the accident and gave it up to second place.” 

“Who was that?” Jisung asked and Chenle was shocked he didn’t know.

“Wong Yuwen, Yukhei’s sister.” he answered and thought again, “I still find it coincidental that it was Yukhei who caused her accident that summer though...I know that the girls didn’t really get along since Yuwen saw Y/N as competition from day one” 

“Yukhei’s sister? You guys know Yukhei too?” Jisung asked again, his eyes wide and Chenle gave him an odd look from all of his questions but Jisung had good reasoning for it.

“Renjun was the one who introduced Yukhei to Y/N. We all knew each other in China and Yukhei came with me since his sister attended the same school when I visited the first time. We spent a lot of time together...well Y/N spent a lot of time rejecting Yukhei so..” Chenle said and noted the look on Jisungs face, “You good bro?

Jisung’s mind was boggling. It couldn’t have been a coincidence could it? He knew that you had won first place in your schools competition, he even knew bits and pieces who Renjun and Chenle were but never ever had you brought up knowing Yukhei on that personal level. He just knew that you had met briefly before camp the first year and that you rejected him once. Outside of that, he had no idea why Yukhei loved to bother you so much but now the pieces of the puzzle were coming together.

Jisung shook out of his thoughts and gave Chenle a reassuring smile and thumbs up. This new person seemed to know a lot and Jisung was curious to what else he knew about your association with Yukhei.

“Oh yea, I forgot to ask. Where are you guys staying?” Hana asked once everyone had finished eating. 

“We’re both staying at a house my family bought recently nearby.” Chenle answered, “If I remember the address correctly, it’s not that far from Y/N’s.” 

“That’s so cool, you guys are all in the same neighborhood.” she said, referring to you, Jeno and Jisung, “Well, Jaem and I are gonna get going. We’ll see you guys tomorrow.” 

“Do you guys need a lift?” Jaem asked, swinging his eyes around one finger while his other hand was interlocked with Hana’s, “I’m gonna take Hana home and then head back to Jenos.” 

“I heard there was a Moomin Cafe in town and there’s still a few hours till it closes.” Renjun said and turned to you, “Care to join me? It’d be great to touch base on a few things.” 

“I’d love to watch you weeb out for a few hours.” you said giggling, knowing your friends obsession with character, “There’s a few things I wanted to ask you as well actually.” 

“Perfect, lets go then.” Renjun said,“It was nice meeting you all. We’ll see you all tomorrow.” 

You gave the group a quick wave and Hana quickly hugged the two of you before you looked at Renjun and the two of you set off, with your arm looped through his.

A few hours later, you walked through your door deep in thought from your conversation with Renjun. The two of you discussed a lot in a short period of time, from a potential reunion with the rest of the cast of the Swan Lake to information regarding Yukhei. 

Waving at Sicheng and Yuta(who you assumed would be a regular in the house now that Sicheng was back), who were currently digging into a piece of the chocolate cake you made the night before for Sichengs return, you made your way up to your room. Because you were so deep in thought, you literally screamed when you walked in and saw Jeno lying on your bed,hair pushed back, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose and reading a book.

“SORRY, I FORGOT TO TELL YOU HE CAME OVER.” Sicheng yelled from down the stairs, there was no apology in his voice. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked, hand over your heart as you tried to calm your breathing.

“Jaemin decided to bring Hana over instead of taking her home and I wasn’t in the mood to listen to the conception of Baby Na.” he responded, looking at you from the corner of his eye, noting your concentrated look and your lack of reaction to his joke, “Everything okay? How was the cafe?” 

“Everythings fine.” you said distractedly, putting your things away, “Renjuns a Moomin weeb so this was like a dream come true for him. It was nice to catch up since we really haven’t talked in months minus the odd text here and there.” you said, forcefully shaking your thoughts from your mind and paid attention to the person on your bed who was currently looking like he just walked out of Mens Athletic.

It was obvious he showered before he came over since his hair was still slightly damp and pushed back while he was dressed in black sweats and a white wife beater. It was a nice sight for the eyes.

“Are you planning on staying long?” you asked curiously and Jeno looked up from the book.

“Am I intruding?” he asked back and you shook your head. 

“Of course not.” you said quickly, “I just wanted to know how many pieces of cake I had to bring up.” 

“Three.” Jeno said holding up his fingers and giving you that reserved for special people eye smile, “The one you made a few days ago was so good and with Yuta downstairs, there probably won’t be any left in the morning.” 

“True.” you said, grabbing a few things, “Be back in a bit. I’d tell you to make yourself at home but you seem to have done a good job at doing so already.” you snickered as Jeno waved, going back to the book from your shelf he had immersed himself in. 

“Don’t be long.” he said, settling himself into your bed, “Do you want to watch a movie?” 

“Sure.” you said looking behind you as you stepped out the door, “My laptops on my desk. The password hasn’t changed. If you still remember that is.”

Jeno looked up when he heard the bedroom door shut and marked the place in the book he was reading, before putting it down.He made his way over to your desk which was decorated with stationary and few pictures from the past and present. 

The ones that stood out were from his fifth birthday party where he had a mouthful of cake and you had the happiest grins two five year olds could muster while “Say cheese!" was being  yelled at you in four different directions. 

There was another one where Jaemin and Jeno were at some beach and they had you lifted in their arms during a big family vacation that the three of you somehow managed to convince your parents to have after weeks of begging. Jeno remembered that day more than any other vacation memory since seconds after that photo was taken, you were thrown into the ocean.  He remembered the grovelling he and Jaemin had to do since you decided to ignore the two for the rest of the day.. He chuckled to himself at the memory, remembering that despite the one hiccup,  it was one of the best vacations he’d been on in his life. 

Before he could press the power button on your laptop, a polaroid under your keyboard caught his attention and Jeno couldn’t help but feel his heart swell when he realized when it was from. It was a photo of the two of you that Jaemin took during a break between dance classes when you were in middle school. 

The two of you were leaning against the mirror, Jeno’s arm wrapped around your shoulder while the two of you watched something on his phone. Your head was resting on his shoulder and he was resting on top of yours. He remembered Jaemin showing him the photo, telling him that this was when he knew the two of you were meant to be more than friends. Jeno brushed it off at the time, but he couldn’t help but think how right his friend was in this present moment.

He looked to side when he heard your phone buzz and a text from someone showed up on the screen.

[9:55pm] E.T - Think about it...It’ll be fun, just like the old times. I’ve got your back Princess~

Jeno’s lips formed a straight line at the text and was tempted to check the message himself. He had an assumption as to who this “E.T” person was and fought the jealousy that bubbled inside him. You and Renjun were friends and he had no right to feel this way, he didn’t know your friendship but he couldn’t help but let that fact bother him. Were you and Renjun closer then the two of you let on or was it just his paranoia?

A few minutes later, you walked in, freshly showered with a tray that consisted of cakes and hot chocolate along with a bowl of marshmallows, a big satisfied smile on your face.

“I took like a quarter of the cake and I think Yuta growled at me.” you said placing the tray on your desk before picking up your phone and reading Renjun’s message and responding, making Jeno question what you said since you rolled your eyes.

“Yuta is aware that you’re the only one who can cook in this house right?” Jeno asked, taking the cake from your outstretched hand, his face in pure bliss after taking a bite, “You can always give his portions to me you know. Now that my parents aren’t here, I think I’m gonna starve.”

“Isn’t that the reason why Jaemin is staying with you? So you won't starve?” you asked with a lifted eyebrow, knowing that his parents had just left to meet with your parents somewhere in Europe. 

It was a blessing and a curse that your parents enjoyed travelling, it meant that you and Jeno had grown up travelling together during the holidays and you always had someone to experience new things with. It may have been the main reason why your friendship with Jeno had maintained its strength during your transition from children to preteens despite the differences in personalities. 

“With the amount of time he spends with Hana, I probably will.” Jeno snorted moving slightly when you settled next to him on the bed, “Did you know that he’s serious about her?” 

“Good” you said, taking a bite of your chocolate cake, doing a little dance when you felt the velvety texture of the frosting on your tongue, “Cause from how our talks are going, she feels the same.” 

“Ah…Young love...” Jeno sighed, leaning back thinking about his two friends before his eyes caught a small album on your bedside table that hadn’t been there before, “What’s that?” 

Following his gaze, your eyes landed on the album and Jeno saw the excitement in your eyes and you put down your plate to reach for it. 

“I found this while I was cleaning my room a few days ago.” you said handing him the medium sized album that contained so many memories, “I’ve been waiting for you to come over to show you.” 

Jeno opened the album and was greeted by a sense of strong nostalgia. It’s contents familiar but distant memories of your combined family travels. They lasted from when the two of you were three to about the age of thirteen, where dance became more important and you were both enrolled in your respective summer programs and the year after you left for Europe.

“I can’t believe you still have these photos.” he said, slowly flipping through each page, chuckling to himself at certain photos that caught his eye “This is like a decades worth of history.”

“I couldn’t believe it either.” you said, resting your head on his shoulder so you could look at the photos too, “It made me think of all the carefree days we had. It sucks that we only went to tropical destinations. I think I would’ve liked Europe as a child.” 

“Did you travel a lot while you were abroad?” Jeno asked, still looking through the photos and felt you nod against his shoulder.

“Renjun and I did a lot of that during the small breaks we had when we realized that we could actually tolerate each other” you said, looking through your phone for a specific picture, “We would travel to different places by train and spend a few days exploring. Depending on the holiday, our trips lasted several days to several weeks.”

“Just the two of you?” he asked, looking down at you from the corner of his eye, frowning at the sound of the China Princes name once more.

“Mhm.” you said and smiled when you found the photo you were looking for, “Chenle, Sicheng and Hana joined us once during winter break and we spent two weeks in Germany before we met my parents in England for Christmas. Outside of that one time, it was just Renjun and I. A travelling photographer passed our cabin while we were headed to Paris to watch Swan Lake and asked Renjun if he could take a picture and told us to hold the pose. It's still my favorite to this day..” 

You flipped your phone around and showed Jeno the picture on your phone where you and Renjun were seated in a cabin on a train. The two of you must’ve been on your way to some sort of event since you were both dressed in semi-formal wear. You were wearing a long sleeved emerald dress and black tights and black boot heels. Your head was resting in your hand and you were looking out the window. Renjun, who was wearing a dress shirt and vest, was looking at you with what to Jeno looked like admiration? Adoration? Passion? A sketch book rested on the table and Renjuns hand was in mid sketch. Had you known that he was sketching you at the time?

He thought the long sleeved dress was different but brought out the more mature aspects of your figure with how it hugged you in all the right places and made your legs look longer. The beret that rested on your head while your wavy hair was thrown over one shoulder completed the look and Jeno decided that he liked seeing you in hats.

His eyes narrowed when he realized that the drawing in Renjuns sketchbook looked familiar and he looked at a painting that you recently hung up.

“Is that painting of you?” he asked and saw the wistful smile on your face.

“Yea...Renjun enjoys doing art in his free time and painted that for me after our fifth trip together. The photo itself was taken only during our first trip but he worked on it for quite some time after that. He told me that he’d been looking for a muse for a while and all the travelling did it for him. I was floored when he gave me the painting, I think I cried a bit too..” you said thinking back to your travels with your best friend from abroad.

“There was always something missing though…” you muttered quietly and Jeno almost didn’t hear you.

“What’s that?” he asked, eyes still on the painting and wondered what it would be like to travel the world with you now that you were older.

“You.” you whispered looking down, “I guess a part of me always wondered what you’d think of the places I’ve gone and what it’d be like to experience what I did with you.” 

A smile made its way to Jenos face as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you snug against him and trapped you in his arms. He was glad your head was on his shoulder since it was easier to hide his blush this way. He was giddy to know that you often thought of him during your travels and even though someone else was your travel companion, he was still on your mind.

“One day,” Jeno promised, “We’ll go together and you can show me all your favorite spots you’ve been to. We can even take a summer and travel Europe by train if you want. I think that’s what our parents are meeting up to do. I saw them plan the trip and heard them talk to your parents over the phone about it. Seems like a lot of fun.” 

You looked up at Jeno wide eyed, had he really just promised that he’d travel all of Europe with you? Why was he saying things like this so loosely? Did he know that when he acted so nonchalant but sweet like this, it made the butterflies in your stomach flutter?

“Y-You want to travel with me?” you managed to stutter out and he gave you a look with furrowed brows.

“Of course. You’re the only travel buddy I had for most of my life and we have five years to catch up on. I wouldn’t want to experience those things with anyone else.” he said confidently, looking down at you, moving his arms to wrap around your waist and you felt him play with your fingers when your hands met his, “A trip with just the two of us.” 

“A trip with just the two of us.” you agreed quietly, settling into Jenos embrace and felt his arms tighten around you, the chocolate cake forgotten as your eyes drifted close. 

You weren’t sure what was happening with your friendship. These nights had become a thing after you had woken up completely jet lagged and Jeno had so happen to be coming back from a late night bathroom run. He’d seen your light on and texted you to see if you were alright since you were in the house alone.

When you told him that you couldn’t sleep, he had come over and the two of you spent hours watching Netflix; thankfully for the two of you it had been a weekend.

After that, Jeno came over whenever he was bored, he even helped you clean the house when Sicheng said he was coming back. You constantly wondered why he’d spend time with you when he could be out with Jisung or Jaemin; though Jisung spent a lot of time playing video games at your house just as much as Jeno did. He just said that he was lazy to socialize which totally didn’t make sense since he could be a social butterfly around the right people.

You just knew that over the short time you spent together, your heart would beat faster whenever he was around at school and now you were partnered for the project so spending time together was inevitable. 

Little did you know, Jeno was working hard to show you that he was serious about you and you only. He just hoped that whatever he had planned didn’t backfire, especially with the arrival of one Huang Renjun.

[bellemorte180]

Addressing some negative comments I received on Wanderlust

So, the overall comments I have received on Wanderlust have been positive and amazing. The support this story has gotten is overwhelming and has taken me by surprise. I want to thank everyone who has stuck by me, read my story and loved it as much as I have. 

With that being said, obviously the story is not going to be for everyone; and that’s okay. Not everyone is going to want to read a murder mystery about a serial killer and the romance that blossoms between a federal agent and a witness.

That’s not everyone’s cut of tea and that’s okay.

I’m saying this because I got two comments on the story today that are kind of negative. While I’m not expecting everyone to love and rave about my story, I want to address those two comments. The first one I can kind of see where you’re coming from while the second I 100% disagree with. (I’ll leave the comments up on A03-chapter nine). While they are not the first negative comments I’ve gotten, they are two that are kind of bothersom.

The first one starts by quoting a paragraph that in chapter ten about Marcel and Rebekah’s relationship- more so their breakup. The rest of the comment goes as followed.

When Marcel asks Rebekah to move, it makes sense. When Rebekah asks Marcel to move she is expecting everyone to drop everything for her. When Marcel refuses to move, he is just being a devoted agent. When Rebekah refuses to move, she probably doesn't have any reason, she is just being difficult. Really, Klaus? Her reasons are not serious and valid, you will just assume they must be irrelevant? While Marcel's choices are just and reasonable? Wow.

Btw, Klaus himself says Rebekah was refused, so she seemingly asked about possibly getting a job in D.C.

Klaus really needs to stop being so dismissive and glaringly patronizing towards his sister. It's pretty obvious and disgusting of him.

Like I said, I can see where you’re coming from. Yes, Klaus kind of is rude to his sister in regard to his breakup with Marcel. The whole argument that Klaus is patronizing to his sister….well, yeah. He is. It’s part of his character, not the best part I’ll admit, but that is kind of one of his negative traits. That is how he is in the show too, so it is not something that comes out of no where.

Also, he isn’t patronizing towards his sister because she is female (which is what I’m assuming is meant from the comment) but because she is his sister. Siblings do this. I have three siblings and trust me when I tell you, we say the rudest and meanest things to one another all the time, but if someone else tried to talk crap on one of my siblings…no I’m coming for you.

Rebekah is spoiled and bratty. It is part of her character in the TVD and TO! And I imagined that the Rebekah in this story would be very much the same way. Klaus really only heard Marcel’s side of the breakup, and knowing how Rebekah is, he probably just assumed that Rebekah was being stubborn and not willing to compromise without really talking to her about it.

Was it a shitty thing of him to make such an assumption? Yeah, it was; but it stems from years of knowing his sister and how she is as a person. I think it’s a very in character thing for Klaus to do, both underestimating Rebekah and jumping to conclusions without listening to the other side first; especially when it comes to his siblings. I’m not going to remove Klaus’s flaws in this story and make him out to be the most ideal version of himself.

So yes, Klaus is patronizing towards ALL of his siblings….because honestly, that’s what siblings do. The part about it being disgusting makes me wonder if A) you’re an only child-(nothing wrong with that), but it tells me you don’t understand the dynamics of siblings and B) you don’t have an understanding of Klaus as a character.

Now the next comment….boy this one kind of has me very annoyed; not because it’s a negative comment but what is being insinuated or how I am taking it just kind of feels like a really hard slap in the face.

First things first, I 100% believe that police brutality and corruption is a MASSIVE problem that needs to be sorted out. I think that the use of brutal force by a police officer that results in injury or death of another person is disgusting.

I support the BLM and have zero patients with anyone who believes that police officers have the right to harm anyone in such a manner.

Now: onto the comment.

Klaus should have been taken off the case a few chapters ago. Vincent keeping him on makes no sense and there is no justification for it. There is a reason you don’t get involved with a witness on an ongoing case and Klaus did get involved. He should be absolutely off the case, there is no place for the police or FBI to abuse their power.

Okay, before we get to that last line…I’ll address the first half of the comment.

Yes. Klaus got involved with Caroline. It’s a Klaroline Fanfiction and that’s the point. As far as him being removed….yes. He should have. Vincent talks about that but decides against it because he is weighing Klaus fucking up against the potential for more loss of life.

Does he take Klaus off the case, when he knows the most about it, and re-interview all witness, try and learn the case from the inside out all the while there is a serial killer out there who might kill more people? Or, does he keep Klaus on the case in order to use not only the relationships he has built but the knowledge and understanding of the case in order to save time and potentially save lives?

Vincent went with option B. Was it the right choice? Probably not. It will be a bureaucratic nightmare; which Vincent already knows and understands; but if that means saving someone’s life in the long run…oh well.

Yes. Klaus getting involved with Caroline is a BAD move. It is something that I’ve mentioned time and time again in this story, Klaus should not get involved with Caroline because of her involvement in this case…..but he does anyway; because he is a human and sometimes people make bad decisions.

Now, onto the part that really bothers me.

there is no place for the police or FBI to abuse their power.

I do not understand how two consenting adults having sex is an abuse of power? Klaus is not forcing her to do anything Caroline does not want. He is not using his position of authority to convince her to sleep with him. Klaus is not taking advantage of Caroline in order to gain something or demanding sex in return for something Caroline needs.

Klaus sleeps with Caroline because he is falling in love with her.

When they have sex, it is not because Klaus is an FBI agent and Caroline is a witness; they had sex because they have feelings for one another. They care for one another and needed comfort; which they found in each other’s arms.

Was it a stupid thing to do? Absolutely; but again, Klaus and Caroline are human and sometimes humans make bad decisions…and without giving spoilers, there are unforeseen consequences that occur in the story that are a result of Klaus and Caroline having sex.

What bothers me is in the comment, or at least how I am taking it, is the comparison to two adults having consensual sex to police brutality and abuse of power. In today’s political climate, that is not something I am going to take lightly with my writing.

I do not condone, or support police brutality and I would not write something that would justify such abuse.

At all.

To sum it up, Klaus is a flawed character with negative traits. I’m not going to write a rose-colored glasses version of him. I do not like Mary-Sue or knight in shining armor type characters, and removing the patronizing and bad decision making part of Klaus would pretty much being doing so. My characters will have flaws and make bad decisions.

Wanderlust is a fanfiction. Maybe it is not everyone’s choice of enjoyment and that is fine. I’ve seen lately, and not just on my fic, but people leaving comments that are either rude or meant to be “constructive criticism”. Fanfiction is a hobby that is meant to be enjoyed and distract people from their own lives for a short while. Don’t try and tear it down and twist it to be something it is not. If you don’t like Wanderlust or Klaroline or anything else, that’s fine…but don’t try and insult those who do.

[poguesofthebau]

Hi love! Idk if you’re still doing ships, but if you are could you please do one for the obx characters for me? I’m a 5”3 straight gal with short red hair and pale skin. I could’ve been in twilight lol. I love rock and alternative music. I’m also a dancer:) I love making people happy and always try to be there for everyone and have a smile on my face. I do get really nervous super easily and I never quite know how to handle but we deal. Thank you! I hope you’re doing alright during these times!

i ship you with pope!! (honorary mention: we all know jj also loves rock and alternative so the two of you would initially bond over music taste, and then you’d become besties, and you’d go to concerts and stuff together and it would be the world’s cutest friendship. also nothing could make pope happier than his best friend and his girl being so close.)

pope was a smart ass just like jj and john b, something i think we sometimes forget bc our judgements are clouded by his angel-babyness. but, like, that first scene of episode one when he tells john b he’ll shoot him on his way down? that “i’ll be so safe?” two of many examples of times when pope’s words were just like... out of pocket. you would legit just love sitting and listening to jj and pope bicker back and forth, even though it often times annoyed the shit out of kie and john b, you thought it was hilarious. the first real thing about pope you saw was his sarcasm. at first, you thought he was just the brains of the operation, but once you got into the back of the twinkie with the boys for the first time, you realized... pope was like an onion. yes, that’s right, layers. *cue shrek quote* the more you saw of him, the real pope, the more intrigued you were. soon enough you realized that intrigue was more of an interest, and then the interest grew to feelings. everyone had kind of expected you to end up with jj when you first started hanging around with them, but when you and pope got together (after you executed an elaborate plan to trick him into kissing you during a kegger and then confessed your feelings to him), no one was really that surprised. the two of you just sort of balanced each other out somehow. in times when pope was freaking out over school or his scholarship or kooks being out to get him, you could shoot him the perfect goofy little grin to pull him out of it. and when you started to fret a little too much over jj doing risky ass flips off the hms pogue or picking a fight with rafe or going home to his dad, pope always found just the right way to say ‘he’s an idiot but he knows what he’s doing.’ 

that was pretty much the situation one night at the Boneyard. before you’d left for the kegger, pope was absolutely going out of his mind trying to edit an english paper that was due the following monday. it was worth a huge amount of his grade, and english was his ‘worst subject,’ so he insisted on sitting silently in the guest room of The Chateau, rereading and making edits where they needed to be made. you, however, were not accepting that. after jj and john b burst into the room and tried to rip his laptop out of his grip, resulting in an obsessive and angry pope, you were slipping quietly into the room and sitting next to him in the bed. peeking over his shoulder, you skimmed over a few words before looking back to your boyfriend. “whatcha doin’?” pope was typing rapidly on the keys, not even pausing when you spoke. “ummm... i’m... just... working on... my... paper.” with his final word, he glanced up at you. you’d catch his eye for just a second before he was turning back to his laptop screen. “hmmm,” you’d hum, leaning forward to obstruct his view a little. “hey, i can’t see!” as he spoke, pope stopped typing to throw his hands up in the air, giving you the perfect opportunity to quickly press Save before slamming the laptop shut. “all done. come on, now, my little genius.” “hey! what the hell! i have to finish that!” as pope complained, you would be moving the laptop to the side, standing in front of the boy and placing a hand on each side of his face. “no, you have to finish it monday. today, friday, we party. ‘kay?” you pecked his lips a few times, kissing him until he broke into a smile. “that’s like, scientifically not fair. you just loved me out of my homework.” you’d grin, grabbing his hands to pull him off the bed and toward the living room where the others were waiting. “hey, it’s not my fault you make me love you so much, pope.”

so there you were an hour later, flip flops thrown to the side as you wiggled your toes in the sand. you and pope were sat on a log on the Boneyard, red solo cups in hand, laughing at some stupid shit that john b had said. so far, pope was secretly grateful that you’d dragged him out, because this was one of the most fun, peaceful nights he’d had in a decent chunk of time. but of course, as soon as pope admitted that fact to himself, things took a turn. things, as in, the current population of the Boneyard. rafe cameron himself had officially set foot on the beach, and pope knew the vibe was about to die a brutal, painful death. and, as per usualy, he was right. barely half an hour after he arrived, rafe had made his way over to you, laying right into sarah, john b, and jj. (for some reason, they were his favorite pogues to verbally and sometimes physically torture.) things escalated quickly, with kie throwing her drink on rafe and jj immediately stepped in to defend her actions. you, not the biggest fan of physical fights, would be trying not to hyperventilate from where you stood a few feet away, shifted slightly behind pope as chaos ensued. after yelling a few times to try to stop jj, pope was turning to you. his hands would be on your shoulders, shaking you gently to get you to shift your eyes from jj slamming rafe into the ground to him. your eyes flickered over to his, and you snapped back into reality. “fuck,” you’d breathe, eyes still wide. “it’s fine. he’ll be fine. just stay behind me, okay?” and once you nodded to let him know you were okay, he would turn back to his friend to find him on his back, taking hits from rafe. soon enough john b and topper were interfering, having developed some newfound peace, to separate their friends from each other. after each almost breaking loose a few times, the fight was over, and all that was left to deal with was jj’s anger. you dropped your forehead onto pope’s back, sighing in relief. “i’m sorry i took you from your homework, after all.” he’d turn back to you, a smile on his face. “at least i got drinks and a show, i guess.” he’d lean down and kiss you, breaking away a few seconds later when you giggled at your own thoughts. “you’re still ridiculous about that paper, though.”

[megalony]

Fractured pieces- Part 9

Another part to my single dad! Roger Taylor series which I hope you are all enjoying.

Taglist: @marshmallowmae @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @luvborhap @jennyggggrrr @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

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Roger's eyes locked onto the small round glass of whiskey sitting on the desk in front of him, wishing that he could just down the bottle but he knew that wasn't a good idea nor would it be the best option since James was here. Roger couldn't get bladdered in case James woke up and needed something and yet the idea was so tempting to him.

Being drunk would help to take some of the pain away, the pain that had been a frequent friend to Roger at this time over the past for years.

He hated the fact that he felt angry and hurt and in agony around James' birthday because that wasn't fair. Roger had to try so hard to keep a lid on his emotions when all he wanted to do was throw a tantrum and break everything, to scream and shout and sob. He wanted to stay in bed all day and let the sorrow overtake. Roger wanted to lay and scream or go to (Y/n)'s apartment and go through her things with tears streaming down his face with each memory that he came across. Yet Roger also wanted to feel normal. He wanted to feel happy and excited and his usual giddy self because it was his boy's birthday. His boy whose doctors had doubted he would get past a month old who was now going to turn five next month.

Roger should be excited for this, he should be happy instead of feeling like he wanted to curl up under the covers of his bed and stay there until these feelings passed. He shouldn't be going through the same turmoil that he went through almost five years ago now. He shouldn't be conflicted, feeling like he should have been the one to die instead of (Y/n) because she was the one who had ensured James would be alright. She had died to save him when Roger wanted her to live instead of their boy, a decision Roger regretted ever thinking about because it was too confusing and hurtful.

The drummer shouldn't be wishing that he never had that one night stand with (Y/n) because she would be alive if they didn't at the cost of not having James. Roger could have one without the other when he wanted to be selfish, he wanted to be greedy and have them both in his life but he couldn't and that hurt more than words could ever express.

At the sound of the door creaking open ever so slightly, Roger turned his head sharply to the left. Rubbing the few tears from his eyes when he noticed James standing in the doorway. Roger's eyes narrowed when he noticed the look of worry on James' features, watching him brushing tears from his own eyes for reasons Roger wasn't aware of yet. His head was leaning against the door, one arm wrapped around his middle to make sure Roger's baggy jumper stayed on him instead of falling from his shoulders.

Reaching out Roger turned off the record player on his right that was very quietly playing a Beatles song that he hadn't really been listening to nor could he hear it very well due to the volume of his thoughts.

"What're you doing up?" His tone was gentle as he waved the four-year-old over to him, showing him he wasn't mad or annoyed that he had left his room to come and find Roger. It had been a week since Roger took James to the hospital which ended up in them staying there for the night until James was stable enough to come home. His fever hadn't completely gone but it was going but his other symptoms would take a while and he was on antibiotics.

Leaning down Roger picked James up when he trotted over to him, settling James on his lap and wrapping his arms around him as he burrowed himself into Roger's chest. Moving his head to the side Roger looked down at his boy when he stayed quiet, alarm bells ringing in his mind when James had more tears falling from his eyes that were beginning to soak into Roger's shirt.

"Hey, hey why the tears?" Roger tried to brush the tears away but more continued to fall and replace the ones he vanished. His teeth bit down on his bottom lip when James shuffled around on his lap, his arms wrapping around Roger's neck as his face buried in his shoulder. "Baby, I can't help if you don't talk to me. You feeling any worse tonight or had a bad dream?" Guessing what was wrong wasn't really helping Roger at the moment because he couldn't read James' mind so he couldn't know what was wrong unless he was told. His hand rubbed up and down James’ back to try and help calm him down.

"W-why did mummy die?" An uncontrollable shudder ran along the base of Roger's spine as he gently tugged James so he was sitting on Roger's lap properly. Allowing him to look down at his boy who was rubbing at his eyes, small whimpers and coughs escaping his lips making his chest shudder and his breaths crackle like static on a tv.

Why was he suddenly asking this?

Admittedly Roger hadn't told James the exact reason since he was too young to understand and he didn't want to upset him. But he knew she had gotten ill and passed away not long after he was born, that had always been enough for James. He was told everything else about (Y/n), about her personality and what music she liked, what she liked to read and her favourite places. He had never asked this before or seemed to cut up like this. He always felt down and out of place when certain topics considering (Y/n) came up because he felt cheated. He didn't get to know her but John and Brian's children knew their mums who were still around.

"Why are you asking that?"

"Was it b...because of me?" James' arms wrapped around his chest when Roger seemed to choke on thin air. A string of tears unable to hide away in his eyes anymore as they flushed down his features that were beginning to blotch a darker shade of crimson.

"Who said that?" There was no way that James could have thought of this on his own and everyone had been briefed about this subject. No one could mention how exactly (Y/n) died and they couldn't say she died on James' birthday because he was too young and that would be too upsetting for him to hear. There was no way he could have come to this conclusion without someone saying something to him. "Tell me who told you that." Roger didn't miss the way James visibly jumped at the sudden snapping tone to the drummer's voice. A tone he had never used with James before.

James wasn't a bad kid, he never did anything wrong and so Roger's voice was always as sweet as honey around him. He had never heard that tone in Roger's voice before and he had very rarely seen Roger cry. The cut-up and broken expression on Roger's face was rather scary to the four-year-old who didn't mean to upset Roger. He only wanted answers.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Roger rubbed at the tears quickly as he held his breath to calm his raging emotions down. He never meant to snap but he needed to know who had said this to or in front of James. Leaning over he pressed his lips to James' temple before pulling him back to his chest, feeling the little boy gripping his shirt tightly as he began to wheeze from the small cries leaving his lips. He curled up as much as he could against Roger who tried his best to stay calm, he never wanted to upset or scare James but he was feeling rather volatile and this was not a subject he wanted to talk about.

"Shh, oh baby I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap, I just need to know where you heard that. Calm down baby or you'll hurt your chest." Rubbing his hand up and down James' back, Roger evened out his breathing to try and prompt James to do the same. Needing him to calm down and breathe a little better or he was going to start coughing and his lungs weren't exactly at their best performance at the moment.

"I- I heard nanny and grandad talking... t-they said mummy died when I was a baby a-and you said she was ill but I was ill too. S..so was it because of me?" His breaths hitched every so often causing him to tense and his shoulders to pull inwards against Roger's chest.

Now Roger realised why James had been a little off today when Roger brought him home. He hadn't eaten very much which Roger had put down to feeling unwell and he hadn't really talked a lot either. Not singing along to one of the Disney movies they put on before bed, not quoting it like he normally did and he seemed to attach himself to Roger just a little more than normal. Of course it was them who James had overheard, the boys never talked about (Y/n) passing away especially not when James was around. They must have thought he was playing or upstairs or something.

Pulling James back, Roger kept his arms tight around him as he looked down to him. Watching his little double brushing the tears away with the sleeve of Roger's jumper that he was wearing.

"Your mum got really ill before you were born sweetheart, she was sick and had to stay in the hospital for a few weeks. You were born too early, that's why you were poorly and have tummy trouble and the infections but your mum... she protected you before then. She had a different illness to you and that's why she went to heaven baby, that was nothing to do with you." Roger couldn't stop the tears from falling from his eyes as he watched a mix of emotions flood James' face and pupils before he slowly nodded. Trying to process what he had just been told.

(Y/n) had made the choice to wait longer for James to be born so he would have the best chance at life, that was no fault of James' when it resulted in her death and not his own. He didn't ask her to do that, she wanted to have him later and she was ill, James didn't give her the illness.

"Are you mad because you miss mummy?"

"Yeah... I always miss her, you and your mum mean the world to me. I feel happy when I miss her sometimes too. I feel happy that you look like her, that you're here with me, that she would have loved you almost as much as I do. I feel a lot of things when I think or miss her."

Roger didn't want James to think the only emotions Roger felt when he thought about (Y/n) were anger and pain. He felt joy and love and happiness too because he knew if she were here she would love how James was growing up and the person he was turning out to be. Roger felt the bad emotions when it was closer to the anniversary of when he lost her but he felt so many good things when the thought of (Y/n) came to mind and James needed to know this too. He needed to know that he could feel a range of emotions when he thought of his mum. James needed to learn it was okay to feel cheated or sad that he didn't know her but he could feel happy and proud to know she would have loved him and who he was turning out to be.