#These are seven gifs. Is that a long post? I don't know if I should tag this as long post

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, sixty-seven

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

AN: WHOOPS, I disappeared for two years. (Legit the last chapter was posted in May 2022!). But I’m back and have written… a lot of the rest of this fic, so we’re just going to post weekly (or even twice weekly!) until we’re finished. And I hope you’re still out there, anyone, to enjoy it. Quick recap for a previously on IDWTW. Aelin and Rowan had sex! It was great. Then they walked in on Rhoe and her dance teacher Petrah having sex, which was NOT great. Aelin never wants to go back to dance again. We returned to school. Senior second semester is going great. Busy for Aelin, who is still trying to work her butt off re: APs and grades. Less busy for Rowan, who is already recruited to college for lacrosse. Aelin and Lys had a huge falling out, but have slowly rekindled their friendship now that Lys is sober and working on her shit. Elide and Manon came out! They’re running as homecoming queens! Dorian and Chaol haven’t DTRed and are taking a break. Last we left off, Aelin texted someone to help retrieve her lacrosse hoodie from the dance studio after hours. But who? Keep reading to find out. Also, I have been gone for so long that I have NO idea who is still in the fandom or reading Rowaelin fic. Please reblog to spread the word! Taglist doesn't seem to possible anymore, so please share! Love you all and missed you all. Comment, message, meme, gif, whatever. Let’s go, team.

Aelin watched with wide eyes as Lys lowered into a crouch and removed a bobby pin from her hair. When she’d texted her friend to help with her mission, she hadn’t realized that Lysandra was a bona-fide expert at breaking and entering. 

“It got boring in rehab,” Lys said with a small shrug, as if that explained her masterful lock-picking.

“Good to know,” Aelin said, chewing her thumb nervous and glancing over her shoulder at Rowan, who waited patiently in the jeep — aka, their getaway car. She didn’t think they’d actually need one, but this whole thing was such a thing, she figured it was probably safest to have a getaway car. What if the cops were called about the break-in, and they had to run? 

Aelin almost chuckled at the thought of Orynth’s elderly Police Chief trying to run after them, but it hadn’t stopped her from telling Lys to dress all in black and meet them at the dance studio at eight. Luckily, Rhoe was at the station overnight, so he couldn’t see their ridiculous antics. But, after all, this mission was serious. She tried to refocus on Lys, who was finagling with a pin in the lock, taking her sweet time. A rush of panic ran through Aelin. What if they got caught? What if this got put on her permanent record? What if they got arrested?

BZZZZ. Aelin’s phone vibrated in her hand, making her jump with surprise. 

“Gods,” she muttered under her breath, causing Lys to chuckle under her breath.

“Tell your buzzard not to worry, we’re almost there,” she said, twisting the pin again in a different direction. Aelin sighed at the reassurance. She knew that Rowan had to be feeling her nerves as well. Although maybe not quite as much. She wasn’t usually concerned about being a rule follower, but every step of the way had made her feel more and more stressed out. Which might have to do more with her overbearing boyfriend watching their every move than anything else. Couldn’t he just sit there and look cute and not worry? She looked at his text and shook her head. She should have known it’d be impossible. He was the biggest worry wart of them all.

Are you sure no one’s in the studio? It looks like the lights are on upstairs. Rowan texted from the front seat, his view of the studio probably better than theirs. But Aelin had spent too many years of her life at this studio. Despite her churning stomach, she knew they were fine.

Last class ended an hour ago. They always leave the lights on for the cleaning staff, but they get Fridays off, so they’re on until Saturday morning. It was part of my class schedule to turn the lights off. We’re good.

She looked over her shoulder after sending the text, and watched as Rowan threw a thumbs up in her direction. She couldn’t help but laugh at how silly he looked in his oversized black hoodie with the hood up. Despite completely disapproving of her decision, he showed up ready for the assignment at hand. 

“Tadaaa,” Lys sang out quietly as the lock clicked open, the door popping ajar. 

“Honestly, when I asked you to help me break into the dance studio, I figured we’d be throwing a rock into a window or something,” Aelin whispered, even though there was absolutely no reason to whisper at all. Aelin had timed it purposefully, so she wouldn’t have to run into … anyone. Okay, she really didn’t want to have to talk to Petrah. She’d avoided the studio (and Petrah) for so many weeks following the revelation that she’d been involved with her dad, and she had no intention of breaking that now. So, they’d had no choice but to break into the studio under the cover of darkness.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Lys said. “The door upstairs has a lock, too, right?” 

Aelin nodded. Annoyingly, there were three doors they had to break open — the building door, the door to the second floor, and then the dance studio entrance. Thank god Aelin had her locker key, so that wasn’t a worry.

“So, why are we doing this again?” Lys asked as they trudged up the long stairwell to the second floor. She tried not to flinch as the rubber-covered stairs squeaked beneath her shoes. “Not that I’m not happy to help,” she continued. “I just thought that you started dancing again and loved it?”

“Ugh,” Aelin groaned. “I did.” Aelin paused for a beat too long, causing Lys to flip her dark curls over her shoulder to get a better look at Aelin. 

“But?”

“It’s…complicated,” Aelin sighed as Lys crouched down in front of the second floor door.

“Well, this is going to take a minute,” Lys laughed. “Tell me.” Aelin was going to refute again when Lys’s voice changed, softer. “Unless you don’t want to…”

Aelin nearly smacked herself. She’d thought this would be a ridiculous, fun (and pretty low-stakes) way to hang out with Lys again, and here she was totally ruining it by keeping things to herself again.

“No, it’s not like that,” Aelin reassured her as she continued to work on the lock. “It’s just… horrifying.”

“Well now you can’t not tell me,” Lys snickered, but Aelin recognized the slight trepidation in her friend’s green eyes. Still nervous to push things. Aelin bit the bullet and let it out in a whoosh.

“Oh my GOD.” Lys’s nose crinkled, and she fell to her knees completely as her shoulders shook with laughter as Aelin told her story. “I mean, we all knew Rhoe fucked,” Lys cackled, causing Aelin to smack her friend’s knee. 

“EW! That is my dad,” she said, fake heaving.

“He’s a hot, hot firefighter daddy, though,” Lys said, her eyebrows wiggling.

“I swear to god I will vomit straight on you.”

Aelin tried to be serious, but Lysandra’s smile pushed them both over the edge into a fit of giggles. They laughed and laughed, releasing the tension that had been hovering around them like a thick blanket all night, officially removing all traces of formality. Unable to help herself, Aelin reached out for her friend’s hand, squeezing her fingers gently and was relieved as Lys squeezed back. They weren’t healed, per se, but they were healing, and that was the most that Aelin could really ask for right now.

Taking a breath and wiping the remnant tracks of tears from her cheeks, Lys pushed herself back up to her knees. “Second lock?”

“Speaking of my family…” Aelin started nervously, but forged on, curious. “How’s Aedion doing?” 

To her credit, Lys didn’t even lose pace as she unlocked the next door with ease.

“I know you want me to reply with something equally scandalous, but there’s nothing going on between me and Aedion,” Lys replied succinctly. “We’re friends.”

“Okay,” Aelin said, not completely convinced, but chose to respect her boundaries and believe her words. 

The pair fell into an awkward silence as they headed down the hall toward the studio door. Just one last lock to get through — and then she’d never have to return to this place. A part of her heart panged at that thought, that she’d be leaving Orynth and this studio behind and not really getting to say goodbye to it. But running into Petrah was NOT an option.

“Hey, isn’t this the studio?” Lys asked of a propped open door, a gentle music wafting from inside. Aelin’s stomach sank. Had someone stayed late tonight practicing? It was a plus that they wouldn’t have to break into yet another door, but she really didn’t want to risk running into anyone. “I thought you said it was closed.”

At the same time, the pair noticed the schedule on the door, showing the company’s new rehearsal schedule. Their rehearsals now went until nine on Friday night, meaning that Aelin had shown up in the middle of a packed studio, instead of an empty one. And one where Petrah would surely be. She contemplated turning right around, but Lys had already opened the door too far, leading them into the studio lobby where the company was on break, milling around and refilling their water bottles.

And at the front desk, Petrah’s eyes widened with surprise upon seeing her. “Aelin!”

She should have guessed breaking in had been too easy. Had the doors even been locked? She knew Lysandra had gotten through them too quickly! Grumbling, she stepped out of the shadow and into the lobby toward Petrah. She couldn’t run away anymore, so she had no choice but to say hello to the woman who she’d been studiously avoiding for weeks. And by the look on Petrah’s face, she knew it, too.

“I’ll go grab your jersey,” Lys whispered, leaving her to fend for herself. “See you downstairs!”

“Traitor,” Aelin mumbled under her breath as Lysandra all but ran into the locker room, excusing herself from the awkward conversation that surely lay ahead. She wanted to run, but her feet were stuck, watching Petrah approach nervously.

“Aelin,” she said again, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you….” But Aelin cut her off.

“I don’t want to talk about it!” she said, ready to slap her hands over her ears, lest Petrah talk about her dad in any less than completely formal way.

Petrah’s deep pink lips curled up on one side in amusement, but Aelin watched as she took another deep breath and shook off whatever she’d been about to say. Instead, she watched as her smile fell into a wistful expression. “We’ve missed seeing you around here,” Petrah said.

Aelin’s eyes shot to the open doorway of the studio where the company practiced, all jetes and pirouettes and well-supported port de bras. She had missed dancing. She really had just gotten back into it when she let it fall away. Petrah must have seen her expression because she smiled faintly and let her delicate hand fall to Aelin’s shoulder.

“You could join the class. Dance it out,” Petrah suggested.

Aelin couldn’t tear her eyes away from the dancers. She watched the emotion pour from them. That is what she needed. But as Lysandra held up her jersey and trailed down the stairs in the periphery of her vision, Aelin shook her head.

“I can’t tonight.”

“I understand that it might be strange to spend time with me after what you overheard…” Petrah trailed off as blood pooled in her cheeks, filling her usual pale complexion with a deep blush. “It was completely casual. It’s only happened a handful of times, and we both know it’s not serious. I’m not trying to replace your mother, or anything like that, it’s just… an occasional stress release, and oh my god, I am sorry I didn’t mean to say any of that.” Aelin cringed at the words. She wanted to stop Petrah, but the woman couldn’t be stopped even if she wanted to. “Please don’t give up dance because of this,” Petrah pleaded. “You have such a gift, Aelin, and I would be filled with regret for the rest of my life if I knew I was the cause of you walking away from it.”

Aelin took a breath, the comforting scent of chalk and worn leather infiltrating her senses and calming her down as she figured out what to reply to Petrah. Of course she wanted to dance still. It was undeniable, the way her body pulled her toward the studio, the way a sense of calm settled through her despite her initial discomfort upon seeing Petrah. She thought about her lack of free time and her constantly building stress as the semester went on and how badly she wished she could just dance it out. That release of emotion centered her, and she knew that she was feeling off kilter without it. Making time for dance had improved her life drastically — it'd kept her sane as the rest of her semester spiraled out of control — and she wanted it back. So, so badly.

She was on the verge of agreeing to join the practice when there was a crash and loud shriek from the studio. When the shriek morphed into a choked sob, a churning nausea overwhelmed Aelin. She watched as Petrah’s face morphed into one of horror as she sprinted into the studio. Sure enough, one of the dancers was on the floor, cradling her ankle, cheeks red and involuntary tears dripping down her skin, while another dancer attempted to help her stand. The girl hissed, crying out in pain and sat down again.

“Call an ambulance,” someone ordered, and suddenly there was a frenzy, a rush of dancers looking on in terror at the injury in front of them. Aelin stood with her back against the wall, not wanting to be in the way, slinking out of sight while so much was going on. It felt like a sign from the universe that Aelin shouldn’t even think about wasting her time with dancing. Like the gods warned her that she had way too much going on to even consider it.

With Petrah distracted, Aelin slipped out, trying to gain control of her waging feelings. She slid into the backseat next to Lys, her mind reeling and unable to get the image of the crying dancer out of her head. So caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t even hear Rowan call out to her, until red and blue flashed behind them. He swung his head over her shoulder, his mouth agape in horror as he stared at his unusually quiet girlfriend.

“Ace, what did you do? Are those the cops?!”

Aelin shook her head, the horrible feeling of nausea persisting in her gut as Rowan drove away from the studio.

. . .

It had been days since Aelin had received a text from an unknown number, and she still hadn’t decided what she was going to do.

I thought you should know we’re holding an emergency dance company audition this Tuesday at 5pm. Please come, Aelin.

Aelin chewed her sandwich thoughtfully as she pulled up the text again. The audition was merely hours away, but she was still on the fence.

“You still haven’t made up your mind?” Lysandra asked, glancing at Aelin’s phone screen. Her former — maybe current — friend had started joining them at the lunch table in the last few days since their late night break in, continuing to heal and thaw what had broken between them.

“I keep telling her to pro con list,” Rowan said, letting his fingers trail across the back of her neck and kneading the tight muscles there with his strong grasp.

“Mmmm,” Aelin mumbled, leaning further into his touch. “Con. Time spent without you.”

“Pro, something to do while I’m at lacrosse practice,” he countered as his fingers massaged a particularly tender part of her neck. She angled her head so he could have better access, but he took it as an invitation to let his head drop to her bare skin and press his lips against it, causing her body to light up. As she leaned toward him with another light moan, Dorian slammed his tray down on the table with a loud thwack.

“Get a room or get outta here,” he complained, tossing a fry at the still-intertwined pair.

“Someone’s got their panties in a bunch,” Aelin laughed as she tossed the fry back at the offender.

“My panties are perfectly smooth, thank you very much,” Dorian quipped. “Some of us would just prefer not to bear witness to your foreplay.”

“Pro,” Rowan whispered into Aelin’s ear, his lips ghosting against the tickling skin there. “I really love watching you dance.”

“Pro,” Aelin whispered back. “Increased stamina, muscle strength, and flexibility.”

Aelin glanced up at Rowan, who was already staring back at her with a fiery intensity. Her eyes glanced down at his mouth, which was curled into a satisfied smirk. His throat bobbed with a slow swallow, surely thinking of all the way those fitness benefits could be put to good use. She leaned in slightly, her lips a hairs breadth away from his when another fry hit her cheek. Aelin whipped her head around, rubbing at the salty spot where the food had made contact with her face.

Dorian was the picture of innocence, eyes wide as he chewed his own fry.

“Con,” Lys interjected. “Increased horniness.”

“Literally didn’t think that was possible,” Dorian said with a snort. “So, what are we pro-conning?” he asked, popping another fry into his mouth.

“Orynth Dance Company is having an emergency audition after an injury, and Aelin was personally invited to try out,” Lysandra explained.

“But I don’t really have the time,” Aelin started. “It would require actual rehearsal time. Like, a lot of nights. Not just an hour long class. Plus, I’d have to see Petrah every day. And I have to knock this last semester’s grades out of the park if I want to even think about getting a scholarship anywhere, plus I have a million AP exams to study for coming up, and that’s not even considering keeping up with hospital volunteering and going to your games and having any kind of semblance of a social life and…” she trailed off, her stomach finally settling as she came to the conclusion she knew she was going to come to all along. “I can’t join the dance company.”

Rowan frowned and reached for her hand. “Are you sure, Ace?” His hand wrapped around hers in a comforting squeeze, and she knew he was asking seriously. “We could make it work. I could help you study, we could bring out your color-coded schedule again to make sure we could fit everything in.”

“I know,” Aelin sighed, squeezing back. “But, I’m sure.”

But as the afternoon ticked by, Aelin couldn’t ignore the swirling feeling of guilt trying to pull her under. She was so distracted by the approaching time that she completely zoned out through all of AP Lit, startling when the period ended and Dorian poked her side.

And as five PM approached closer and closer, she found herself growing more agitated and even snapping at Rowan at one point. It wasn’t his fault; he had to head off to lacrosse practice, but Aelin had found herself so worked up that she had thought maybe he’d want to help release some tension.

“I’ll come right over after practice,” Rowan promised as he twined his hands around her waist.

“But you’ll be all sweaty and gross,” Aelin replied with a frown.

“I thought you liked when I get sweaty,” he laughed, nuzzling his nose into her hair. Aelin sighed, knowing she was being petulant, but she couldn’t get out of her own head.

“Only when I’m the one doing it!”

She tried to push him away, but Rowan’s grasp on her was iron-clad, too tight for her to even think about prying him off her. “Ace,” he lowered his voice. “I would love nothing more than to skip practice and be with you, but you know this is the only thing I need to do this semester to keep my place at Wendlyn.”

“Because Wendlyn’s more important than me?”

“I think you need a snack,” Rowan laughed, but Aelin didn’t find that funny at all.

“Sorry my blood sugar problems are amusing to you,” she said, stiffening within his grasp. She felt Rowan sigh deeply and watched as he pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched his brows up the way she loved so much.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “You know that’s not—”

“I know,” Aelin replied quickly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

Rowan raised a single brow as if to tell her he knew exactly what had gotten into her, and so did she.

“It’s not even four yet,” Rowan said. “You could still go.”

But Aelin was nothing if not resolute. She’d made up her mind, and it was completely logical. And she was sticking to it. No, she’d head home and, yes, get a snack, and dig into her lit homework. Maybe Dorian would be willing to give her his notes from the class, seeing as she couldn’t remember a single thing that was discussed earlier.

She forced a smile and shrugged her shoulders back. “Nope, you were right. I need a snack. I’ll head to Maeve’s and see what she’s got for me.”

Rowan grimaced. “She closed for the afternoon, actually, while they put in a new stove, but she should be reopened by the time I’m out of practice.” Aelin shivered as Rowan let his fingers trail in small circles up and down her back. “Why don’t I stop there on my way to your place after practice? Cheeseburger and brownies?”

“And then orgasms?” Aelin asked, causing a loud snort to erupt from Rowan.

“You want to have sex after cheeseburger and brownies? That feels dangerous.”

“Well, we could have sex first, but reheated cheeseburgers are pretty garbage,” Aelin replied, loving the soft smile that appeared on Rowan’s face. It was the one solely reserved for her. When she was being particularly ridiculous or annoying, it was like he couldn’t help but love her more, and the small curve of his lips let her know that.

“You’re right. Cheeseburgers first,” he paused. “Then sex, then brownies?”

“Deal,” Aelin said as she reached her hand out to shake his. But he instead grasped it in his and brought it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles lightly.

“I love you,” he said.

And though Aelin wanted to roll her eyes, she took a moment to relish the fact that her best friend in the whole world loved her. And would do anything to make her smile. In fact, he’d succeeded in getting her too distracted to think about the auditions and…

As soon as she thought about them, her smile faded again.

“Just go,” he whispered, but Aelin shook her head.

“Have a good practice. See you in a few hours.”

She kissed him and sent him off, hoping to pour herself into her studies. But even with her book open, Aelin digested none of what she was reading. She kept looking at the clock, distracted. Even as it passed five pm, knowing that she was missing the auditions, she still couldn’t focus. And her mood started to plummet.

It plummeted even further as she received a text from Rowan saying that their coach needed him to stay behind for a bit after practice and that he’d be later than anticipated.

She tried to read more, and when that didn’t work, she attempted to do some math equations, but she couldn’t get her brain to work. She knew what she needed. And it was to dance it out. Despite everything, that was still her best coping mechanism. When a second text from Rowan came in, apologizing for being even later, Aelin had had enough. She couldn’t just sit here and wallow. Instead, she wrote a note for whoever would get home first – her dad, Lorcan, or Rowan — and began walking.

She didn’t even know where she was walking until she ended up at the dance studio. It was unlocked, but empty. She couldn’t remember if there had been an end time to the auditions, but it seemed completely deserted. No one was sitting at the front desk, and the lights were eerily dim. This is what she’d expected to walk into last week when she’d stolen back her lacrosse hoodie, and she was even more annoyed about it somehow.

Instead of focusing on that, though, she went straight for the first open studio and turned the lights on. The fluorescent bulbs overhead flickered on, illuminating the wooden floors beneath with a warm yellow glow. She toed her sneakers off and padded barefoot to the corner of the studio where the massive (and ancient) stereo system was stored. She pulled her phone out and connected it, pulling up one of the old playlists Rowan had made for her and closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her. Her feet took off, working in sync with the rhythm reverberating through the bare floor. Next, her arms spread, stretching out and shaking off the stress of the last few weeks.

For the first time, she really let herself feel it. The worrying and wondering what the future would hold. She knew Rowan was destined for Wendlyn, but she had no idea what she would do if she didn’t get in, too. He’d assured her that they’d stay together and figure it out, but who really stays with their high school boyfriend? She knew they weren’t like everyone else – they were special – but it didn’t stop her from thinking about it and wondering. When it came down to it, that’s why she really couldn’t bring herself to audition today. She couldn’t risk spending less time with Rowan, not if this was the last few weeks of their relationship.

Whoa. Where did that thought come from?

She ignored the small tear that pooled in the corner of her eye, letting it drip down her cheek as she spun in time with the music. How could she doubt her and Rowan’s relationship after all this time? She knew in her soul that they were destined to be together. She couldn’t imagine a world where she didn’t wake up and see him every day. But there had been a small slice of fear since they first kissed, and it had ebbed and flowed with each passing day until it was now a gaping chasm in the pit of her stomach. The idea that she could end up elsewhere without Rowan was a real, actual problem. And the timeframe was closing in on them. What if this was the end of them? How would she ever recover?

Her hands reached overhead and then she let her body collapse to the floor in a graceful fall, letting go over the overwhelming sensations of fear that had been swirling and threatening to paralyze her. She arched her back and her neck released, the tension that Rowan had tried to knead attempting to relax and letting gravity pull her down, down, down.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Rowan. She did. More than anything. She just didn’t trust this world. She didn’t trust that everything would work out the way it was supposed to. I mean, just look at her dad. He’d thought he’d found the love of his life, and she walked away like it was nothing. Walked away from Aelin.

She didn’t want to cling to Rowan, to be the girl who changed her whole life just to be with a guy. She wasn’t that person. No. She was Aelin fucking Galathynius, and she could live life fully on her own. But she wanted to be with Rowan. Wanted the whole package. Saw their life together. And wanted more than anything for it to become a reality. But what if that future disappeared? What if it was cut short? What if they drifted apart. What if they tried to do long distance? Last summer while he was at camp was only two months and it was pure torture. It caused a rift so big between them that she wasn’t sure they’d overcome it. And yes, of course they did. But… to do it again? And for four years?

Her emotions threatened to choke her as she continued to dance out her frustrations, stomping and spinning and leaping, hoping against all hopes that the answers to her anxieties would appear if she could only dance long enough. She left every feeling, every worry, every gnawing anxiety on the dance floor, letting it tumble out through her moving limbs.

She didn’t know how long she’d been dancing when she opened her eyes again and refocused at herself in the mirror. She didn’t recognize the girl she saw there. She may not have come up with any answers, but she felt better. Raw, red eyed, red cheeked, and breathing hard, Aelin felt totally exposed. Which is why she nearly jumped out of her skin when a voice cut through the silence, over her harsh exhale.

“Practice starts next week.”

The director of the company stood in the darkened doorway of the studio, arms crossed and lips pursed in thoughtful approval.

“Oh, I wasn’t—”

“I know you weren’t,” she said with a formal smile. “But we’d still love to have you. If you want.”

It wasn’t necessarily the answer she had hoped to reach, but something about this moment felt like the universe trying to reassure her. That things do work out the way they’re supposed to.

“Yeah?” she asked, feeling somewhat hopeful.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she said.

A wide smile crossed the director’s face. “Welcome to the Orynth Dance Company,” she congratulated her.

Aelin didn’t know what had overcome her, but she couldn’t help but run over to her and throw her sweaty arms around her neck in a giant hug.

“Thank you.”

Right on cue, Aelin’s phone buzzed with another incoming text.

Cheeseburgers en route. See you soon. Xx

. . .

As anticipated, the cheeseburgers were exactly what Aelin needed to rejuvenate herself, but Rowan was totally right that there was no way to be sexy after housing a half pound of meat and cheese.

“I’m so stuffed,” she said, patting her extremely full stomach.

Rowan snorted. “Why don’t we take a post-dinner break and watch something?”

“Only if it’s Housewives!” Lorcan shouted from the kitchen where he was cooking dinner for him and Rhoe, who were properly affronted that Rowan hadn’t brought them cheeseburgers, as well.

Aelin sighed and chuckled softly as she let herself slump over onto Rowan, who was already pulling up Housewives onto the television.

“You are such an enabler,” Aelin laughed.

“It’s easier than dealing with him being pouty,” Rowan smartly replied.

Aelin was about to agree when they were interrupted by an unusual ring tone.

“I’m sorry,” Rowan said, sitting up suddenly. “Is that your… home phone?”

Aelin genuinely couldn’t remember the last time that had rung. Usually she and her dad were both contacted on their cells. They really just had a home line because it was part of their internet package. She couldn’t even remember who had that number.

“Uh, phone’s for you Aelin?” Lorcan shouted from the kitchen.

Even weirder?

“Who the hell would be calling this late on a Tuesday?” Aelin whispered. Rowan’s brow lifted.

“Why don’t you go see?”

Curious, Aelin pried herself off the couch and headed to the kitchen where Lorcan was standing with a spatula in one hand and the phone in the other.

“Who is it?” she whispered.

Lorcan shrugged, simply shoving the phone forward. Helpful.

Aelin cradled the phone against her ear and took a deep breath. “Hello?”

“Hello!” A deep voice rang out over the phone. “Is this Miss Aelin Galathynius?”

“Um,” she cleared her throat. “Yes?”

“Excellent!” the voice boomed, causing her to pull the phone away from her ear slightly. “My name is Xavier Forul, and I’m a local alum of Wendlyn University. I’d love to have you in for an interview some time in the near future. Whenever you’re available! I know you’re a busy senior with a lot on her plate.”

Aelin’s heart took off, beating faster as his words unfolded.

“Interview?”

“Yes,” he continued. “It’s my favorite part of the process. As a former Wendlyn man myself, I get to sit down and speak with young promising applicants to see what their goals and ambitions might be and how they might become part of the Wendlyn world.”

Aelin glanced at the silver-headed mop peeking out above the couch and exhaled slowly. This was it. The universe reassuring her. She felt it with every fiber of her being. She could dance, she could nail her classes this semester, and she’d get into Wendlyn and be with Rowan.

“Wow, thank you so much for reaching out,” Aelin began, her autopilot pilot voice taking over. “I’d love to meet with you.”

As Xavier explained the details of the interview, Aelin’s hope buoyed. She’d been waiting for a sign from the universe, something to tell her that she and Rowan were going to work out and be fine. If a personalized phone call on a landline that hadn’t rung in more months than she could count, inviting her into the home of a University alum wasn’t a sign, she didn’t know what was. And Aelin began to hope for the first time that everything was going to actually work out.

~*~

#idwtw #idwtw au #rowaelin #rowaelin fan fic #rowaelin fic #tog fanfic #throne of glass #rowan x aelin #she's backkkk #i stg i'm finishing this fic #no fic left unfinished

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Kaiju Week in Review (October 9-15, 2022)

Supreme shock sensation of our times: a Godzilla comic released on schedule! Godzilla: Monsters & Protectors - All Hail the King! #1 dropped on Wednesday. I'll confess I forgot about it for a couple of days; your priorities get scrambled when you're recovering from knee surgery. This is a direct sequel to last year's Monsters & Protectors; I don't recommend going in blind. Two big reasons to pick it up: Gabara's debut in American comics (in a dream, natch) and a professional Xilien troll who muses over which reaction .gif he should deploy. Yeah, me too.

Toho released a teaser and this very cool still for the upcoming short Fest Godzilla 3: Gigan's Attack, showing off the Showa Gigan replica suit Shinichi Wakasa built. It's strange to see it opposite FinalGoji (presumably the same stunt suit from last year's Godzilla vs. Hedorah short). I guess it's just his destiny to face Godzilla suits that are barely holding themselves together.

I cannot hope to comprehensively cover the deluge of Godzilla merchandise forever threatening my bank account in this column, but I would like to spotlight this enamel Baragon pin, designed by Christian Gonzalez for Ghost X Ghost. When I saw it my hands simply moved to order of their own volition.

The Dino De Laurentiis King Kong films are getting format upgrades. StudioCanal has a 4K restoration of the 1976 remake slated for November 28, while Umbrella Entertainment is bringing King Kong Lives, long out of print in the States, to Blu-ray on January 18. Neither company is American, but 4Ks don't have region codes and I hear Umbrella Blu-rays are typically region-free.

Probably neither will be a buy for me. The color grading on the 4K King Kong doesn't look great, and the special features don't measure up to the Blu-ray Shout! released last year. I will grant that the King Kong Lives Blu looks like a winner, with great packaging and new special features including a Ray Morton audio commentary. (They had to be new; the old DVD didn't have a thing to mine.) But it's not exactly one of my favorites, and since Shout! recently picked up the rights to it, I'd rather hold out for a version I don't have to import.

Just over a year after it premiered at Fantastic Fest, Iké Boys is out on digital courtesy of (they just keep coming up) Shout! Factory. Hopefully a physical release will follow, because this heartfelt American tribute to tokusatsu doesn't deserve to be buried in the Google Play Store. Set in the last month of 1999, it concerns a pair of Oklahoma tokusatsu geeks and a Japanese exchange student trying to prevent the apocalypse, empowered by the obscure 1969 anime film that predicted it. It's very low-budget and hits a lot of predictable coming-of-age beats, but it's got a good heart and Yumiko Shaku (yes, Akane in Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla) classes it up. Also... it's not often I'm pandered to so directly. The director's one of us, to put it mildly.

Big thing are happening on the bootleg circuit... a couple of them last week, but I never posted about them on Tumblr and this is the first installment of this column. Yesterday, Skeweds Translations posted fansubs for What to Do with the Dead Kaiju?, Toei and Shochiku's kaiju comedy with no U.S. release outside of film festivals in sight. The film is catastrophically bad, I'm sorry to say, failing as a satire and as a genre exercise; Day of the Kaiju handled the same premise far better in a quarter of the time. But if you're so inclined, you can find a copy of the movie itself on the cat site... along with a higher-quality copy of Shin Ultraman than was uploaded there previously. I don't know where these things are coming from (Zarab?), but I'm not complaining.

And in the how-can-this-be-real category, a treat for your ears: the recently unearthed Hong Kong dub of Hanuman and the Seven Ultramen. As in Godzilla vs. Megalon, Ted Thomas, Chris Hilton, and Warren Rooke voice many of the characters. You won't believe the words coming out of their mouths—I don't think they did either. Between the child murder, checkmated atheist, and Hanuman's unquenchable thirst for carnage, this was always one of the kaiju movies with the most jaw drops per minute, and it just got better. A VHS containing the dub turned up in Lebanon; @Redcome40977685, @PrissMegaforce, Omayyad, and Elie Al Hajj got it digitized and @spacehunter-m synced the audio up to a fine-looking widescreen version.

#kaiju week in review #godzilla #godzilla monsters and protectors all hail the king #fest godzilla 3 gigan's attack #gigan #gabara #baragon #king kong #king kong 1976 #king kong lives #home video #ike boys #what to do with the dead kaiju? #hanuman and the seven ultramen #kaiju

[natsspammityspamspamham]

I'm actually writing this post specifically for @deepwoodenheart because they followed my main and were not a porn blog. Thanks! They've recently expressed an interest in Yuichiro Umehara (a voice actor), and @msyuksanh is his number one fan who is the one who actually introduced me to this specific voice actor. Since I watch a ton of anime (an unhealthy amount), I will be running through some of the stuff I have watched (and some stuff I haven't). Some of these are just to make fun of these anime, but I don't fault any seiyuu for taking a bad role because you do what you need to to make that bread 🍞

His list of roles is big but not as big as some other voice actors, so I was able to go through which ones I had watched or heard of quite quickly. He has made some random appearances in other anime that I've watched where I went "Huh, definitely know this guy from somewhere" like Fire Force, Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun, and Kaguya-sama.

Note: I haven't watched Jojo Part 6 yet or that parody magic anime with the wombat. The anime will go in no specific order, but it generally goes from "good" to "mediocre" to "these anime can go suck cheese" with anything below the "keep reading" being literal trash-tier anime. There's also some missing stuff, especially in terms of idol anime because I haven't watched those and don't plan on it for now. From looking at the cast list, I think his major idol roles are in Magic Kyun, Tsukipro, Ensemble Stars, and Idolmaster SideM (regular Idolmaster is for female idols).

Akagami no Shirayuki-hime

I was talking to a friend of mine recently when we went Christmas shopping, and when he saw this manga he went, "I didn't like that one." I personally did like this one. His complaint was that too much time was given to the secondary love interest. Umehara plays a supporting (but recurring) character.

((This scene still makes me laugh to this day. Kaori Nazuka was really funny here.))

Fruits Basket (remake)

Okay, Umehara admittedly barely shows up in this one, but people should watch Fruits Basket no matter who they are. It's good for the soul. That is all.

((It took me so long to find a fricking gif of this bir-- guy.))

Romantic Killer

Anyone who reads this or anyone who has Netflix should go watch this.

((Kabe-down))

Tenchi Souzou Design-bu

This anime is surprisingly not directly creationism, but it sure comes close! As a biology major, this anime was pretty neat, but some of it made me go, "What am I watching anyway?" I'm not an ecology specialist though, so maybe this makes more sense to others. His character is a supporting character, but he has some funny bits.

((He also gets to rap in this role, so that was kind of funny. My other favourite lines are "Wow, Mercury is dead!" and "WOO! SAIKOU NI COOL!!!"))

SSSS.Dynazenon

This one was not nearly as good as Gridman which was already divisive in the mecha community (that I'm not a part of). I heard from others that it was enjoyable, but I personally thought it was a bit of a bore. Props to the casting director for getting Chika Anzai and her cousin Junya Enoki. There are some subbed radio segments that are funny too.

((Also, this is the first anime I watched where he was cast as an ugly adult. Ain't nobody falling for kinoko hair over here. He has also played a piece of sperm, but I digress.))

Dame x Prince

This anime was built for cringe, and it succeeds at cringe. But because it embraces the cringe, it unironically becomes one of the better anime adaptations of an otome game which is like saying you're the tallest dwarf of the seven dwarfs. It also gave a long-running radio with Kaito Ishikawa and Soma Saito.

Shingeki no Bahamut: Virgin Soul

I genuinely remember so little about this anime that I went to go watch clips to refresh my memory, and this anime wasn't even bad. It was mediocre, but for something based off a card game, they did really well. I actually watched this for Sumire Morohoshi and her bubbly character Nina. This is technically a sequel, so you'd need to watch the previous one to fully understand it. Oddly enough, I didn't know the first season was a romance until some characters kissed.

Gakuen Babysitters

This one was essentially built to be a comfort watch. It works at what it wants to do, but I don't like kids. The ending theme is cute, but Nishiyama looked way more into it (Umehara was there to get paid).

Shinchou Yuusha

I personally thought this anime was gonna be a Konosuba, and it kind of was, but it was far more palatable for me (I was not able to make it through Konosuba and will try again at a later date). Aki Toyosaki carries 99% of the comedy in this anime.

((That slime never did anything to youuuuuuu)

Orenchi no Furo Jijou

Fun fact: I watched this before knowing what a shounen ai was! I saw the shounen part and went "Oh, so my demographic" watched it, came out, and went "What. Was. That?!" I don't remember a whole ton about it, but I don't remember it being horrendous. It's just some mermaid in a bathtub. I think this was his debut role, and he does play a main character.

Juuni Taisen

This is probably in a similar boat as Tenkuu Shinpan (later in the list). It's just a bloodbath of an anime, but I will give it credit that it has fanservice for both sides (they sexualize men and women). Anyways, it has a stacked seiyuu cast for something that is so incredibly mediocre.

Tada-kun wa Koi wo Shinai

He had to be replaced partway through due to his acute immune disease. However, I think he recorded it in post-production. Either way, it's a supporting character in an anime that I think wasn't worth the watch besides the banger of an opening. Masayoshi Ohishi has a knack for writing openings for romcoms (he likes romcoms himself).

((He's the glasses guy))

Tenkuu Shinpan

I kinda want to watch this one just to turn off my brain and watch some Battle Royale-style gore.

((That character looks sick.))

Darling in the Franxx

Apparently, you're supposed to watch the first 12 episodes then dip, but come on, when the mechas are built like that, I'm not touching that thing. Even though it has Haruka Tomatsu and one of her most famous characters, I'm not watching it.

((It took me over 100 gifs to find one with Gorou in them despite typing in "Gorou Darling in the Franxx", and he is part of the main cast.))

Goblin Slayer

You know, for such an edgy first episode, this series is so mid at the genre it tries to take on after. Umehara said himself, "He doesn't really say much of importance." This anime has sexual violence (and it's explicit), and it's not even good.

Plunderer

I haven't watched this one, but he does star alongside his bandmate Yoshiki Nakajima. Both of them have been in better anime that is certainly not this one. I even read a chapter or two of the manga when it first started airing and went, "They're really making that, huh?"

((He forgot one streak of hair when dyeing it haha))

Kabuki-bu!

I couldn't make it through three episodes, but maybe I'll try again-- actually, no I won't.

Uchitama

Hmm... I haven't watched this one. It's not hard to see why, but basically, I have not reached that level of degeneracy, and if I do, someone should put me out of my misery.

Senjuushi

Fun fact: This anime is so bad that it has a rating similar to Boku no P-- I'm not finishing that title. I obviously didn't watch this one.

Makura no Danshi

I didn't watch this one, but I saw a video on it and was near tears from laughter and despair because there's no fricking way someone made an anime about this concept AND got Masayoshi Ohishi to write an OP for it. This is the stupidest thing I've seen in a while, and just being close to it made me even more embarrassed that I watch anime. I also listened to Masayoshi's version of the OP before I knew what it was connected to or how to understand some words in Japanese. After learning its association, I was legally obligated to take that song off my playlist.

#long post #umehara yuuichirou #umehara yuichiro #seiyuu #I'm not tagging the rest

[anhandfulgirl18]

TAYLOR SWIFT'S COLLABORATIONS RANKED. (Part 3)

AND NOW THE EAGERLY AWAITED TOP 10. (these are the songs I can't live without, that I never skip and that I most definitely gatekeep with all my being).

(GIF credit to @geyikperisi)

(Part one; Part Two)

10) Tim McGraw - Highway Don't Care (feat. Taylor Swift)

At first, I didn't like it that much, so this was a skip and, if things didn't change, not only this would be probably number 26 or 27, but I would have missed out on one of the best country collab ever. I'm not a fan of Tim McGraw, but this song slaps. A certified bop. I'm so glad that day I decided to listen to this song one more time instead of skipping it immediately as I used to do. Now, I can't live without it.

09) B.o.B - Both of Us (feat. Taylor Swift)

This was almost number 10. It's a tight game. The difference between this one and HDC is that this was instant love. I listened to it the first time and I was like ‘This song is a masterpiece, this is amazing’. And I've been obsessed ever since. Also, I do think people are truly sleeping on this one – on the other side is a good thing, so I can keep it to myself.

08) Exile (feat. Bon Iver)

This was Billboard's number one, right? Do i remember correctly? Nothing against that choice, I just don't share it and I think they picked the safest option but tastes are tastes... Anyhow, I love this song. Great lyrics, great music production, marvelous bridge (oh, that bridge gives me chills all over my body), I just don't listen to it quite as often as the next songs.

07) Big Red Machine - Renegade (feat. Taylor Swift)

“Is it insensitive for me to say get your shit together so I can love you?”. Do I need to add anything else? No, I don't. I'm kidding, of course I'm gonna add something else. I love this song, especially the second verse and the post-chorus. Such a phenomenal song, I wish it was on folklore or evermore so I could have listened to it sooner.

06) Evermore (feat. Bon Iver)

Damn, it looks like I'm not a big Bon Iver fan. Just kidding. I'm not a fan, but this does NOT mean that I don't adore these songs. Before evermore was released, exile would have been in this spot, but this song – in my modest opinion – has just that je n'ai sais quoi that makes me listen to it more than the other. Of course – I think you should know by now – it has terrific lyrics lyrics, great music production (omg, don't get me started on that piano and the way the music changes during the bridge) and a mind-blowing bridge – when their voices overlap and then she sings “You were there" with that voice so soft and ethereal, chills. all. over. my. body.

05) Nothing New (feat. Phoebe Bridges)

"How long would it be cute / all this crying in my room / when you can't blame me on my youth and roll your eyes with affection / And my cheeks are growing tired / of turning red and faking smile" (I wrote all of this without having to search a single word on the internet, I'm so proud of myself!). I'm not gonna add anything else, this speaks for itself.

04) Sugarland - Babe (feat. Taylor Swift)

This song is a pure masterpiece. I'm very sorry that Junk Gollum hurt my poor girl, but if he hadn't, she wouldn't have written this Shakespearean poem and my life would have been so much worse, gray and empty.

03) Run (feat. Ed Sheeran)

Now, THIS is my absolute favorite Ed Sheeran's collab. This is pure pop perfection, such a delicate ballad. I fell in love in the instant that I heard the first few notes (when Tay starts singing "Give me the keys" with her soft voice I just melted) on that Friday morning at probably seven in the morning. This song has been on repeat ever since that morning and I will never get tired of listening to it.

02) The Last Time (feat. Gary Lighthouse)

AND THIS WAS BILLBOARD'S LAST SONG? One of my fav out of Red, and it’s my favorite collab of that album. I won't lie, when Red TV came out and the first notes of this song started playing, I started bowling. By the second verse I needed a tissue, a napkin, something that was more efficient than the sleeve of my sweater, which was completely soaked by then.

01) Coney Island (feat. The Nationals)

BEST COLLAB OUT OF FOLKLORE/EVERMORE. The lyrics are so poignant, a few examples (now, I'm gonna need some help from the internet cause this is like reading Shakespeare):

"Break my heart in two / looking for you but you right here. / If I can't relate to you, than who am I related to? And if it's the long haul /how'd we get here so soon? / Did I close my fist on something delicate? Did I shatter you?"

"And do you miss the rogue / who coaxed you into paradise and left you there?"

Every time I listen to this song I can't help but crying like a baby (coming home from the bar... this one was good).

And that's all. I really thought this was going to be easier, but I had a total of 29 songs and I wanted 20 of them to fit inside the top ten. Overall, I think this is a much decent ranking than Billboard’s, but anyway, tastes are tastes, who am I to judge? I won’t judge yours if you don’t judge mine.

(I LIED. I will judge your taste, especially when you rank The Last Time as the last one. Sorry, not sorry).

#taylor swift #taylor nation #geyikperisi #collaborations #ranking #.txt #fearless #speak now #red #1989 #reputation #lover #folklore #evermore #swiftie #italian swifties

[s-brant]

Pirates and Princesses (8/8)

(gif: @beccs) (PART SEVEN) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: JJ must confront his childhood trauma when returning home for the first time since his dad went to jail and prevent it from sabotaging his new relationship. Meanwhile, something sinister happens at the Chateau that brings Y/N face to face with her grief over John B’s death.

Word Count: 13.4k

Warnings: Angst, implied sexual content, strong language, parent/child abuse, mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, grief, and fluff.

A/N: Welcome to the final chapter of Tokens! This one has a little bit of everything in it, but it also has detailed scenes about JJ and his dad, so proceed with caution if you’re easily triggered by that topic. The love you guys show this fic warms my heart so much, so thanks to anyone who stuck with this story until this chapter. Hope you enjoy it!

Now that she has been sentenced to both punishments, one as a consequence of the fight with Kacey and the other as a consequence of the stunt she pulled with JJ to break out of ISS, Y/N can confidently say that out of school suspension is superior to in-school suspension by a long shot. Instead of sitting in a humid room with Alec for the duration of multiple school days, she's allowed to stay home, go out surfing, and do whatever she wants in lieu of doing classwork.

She promised herself not to make it a habit, promising the invisible presence of John B that she likes to pretend follows her around that she will never get herself into trouble again, but she sees no problem in enjoying her suspension while it lasts.

For the first few days of her suspension, JJ skipped school to spend it with her. Their memories of the conversation they had at three in the morning on Sunday were fuzzy, but not missing entirely. She noticed a difference in his behavior for the first few hours after they woke up under the tree together for the second time in one week. It wasn't a difference in their relationship or how he treated her, it was a difference in him.

He was quieter than usual as they cleaned up cans of beer and tossed them into the recycling, sending pictures to Kie while she was in class after she made them promise not to throw them in the trash. Rather than cracking jokes or making casual conversation with her, JJ made his way around the yard with the recycling bin in his hands and his head in the clouds. It disappeared as the day progressed, but for a little while, he wasn't completely there.

Today, he went into school instead of ditching to spend extra time with her in between shifts at work and time spent with their friends. Since they can't exceed three consecutive absences without a doctor’s note and he doesn't own a printer or laptop to forage the header from a doctor's office, he had no choice but to part from her this morning.

He bites his lip to contain his smug facial expression at the recollection of her wake up call for him. The hand holding his locker door open for him to lean on in the midst of his not-so-wholesome thoughts of her squeezes the metal hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

The curtains weren't shut all the way when they fell asleep before midnight last night, allowing a shaft of sunlight to shine in and land on his face. But that wasn't what woke him up from the dream he was having. In fact, the reality he opened his eyes to was a hell of a lot better than any dream he remembered.

Most of his memory of those moments spent suspended between consciousness and unconsciousness consisted of feeling her pressing a kiss to his shoulder, then her hands rubbing up and down his waist to slip lower and lower until they settled on the waistband of his underwear. It was then that he woke to find her looking up at him for permission from where she peppered kisses along his chest.

Their eyes met right as she kissed the edge of his nipple with this pleading, needy look that he took pride in causing without actively attempting to. She woke up on the brink of coming undone from a pleasant—to put it tamely—dream about him. With a glimpse at the time displayed on the alarm clock, it didn't take much for her to roll over to wake him up.

It ended with her beneath the sheet, finishing what she started Friday afternoon until he was clutching the pillow beneath his head in the midst of his orgasm. It happened so fast, a fault of how hot he found it to wake up to her wanting him so badly, but it felt slower than it truly was in the early morning haze of exhaustion they felt.

The memory as he relives it is as heady as it felt the first time around. He sees it in fractions; her eyes looking up at his, warm palms finding the familiar planes of his muscular body with the exploratory touch of someone who's never traveled it before, and the intense sensations he felt at the end...It's easy for him to stand here and lose himself in it. Despite the class he has to go to, he bargains with himself for one more second spent in the paradise of his memories before he has to come back to reality.

Reality, as his shitty luck would have it, comes in the form of a familiar feminine voice chirping from behind his back as he replays his morning bliss.

"It's good to see you're alive and well, Maybank."

He decides, based on who he knows he'll see when he turns around, that he might invest in a sharpie to write "Bang head here" on the inside of his locker door for instances like these where he'd rather suffer brain damage than speak to someone he can't stomach the presence of.

When he turns to see Kacey with one arm still stretched to hold his locker open, he doesn't bother concealing the genuine reaction from his face for the sake of her feelings. Any care he had for her and her feelings was thrown to the wind as soon as she decided she could steal from and put her hands on his girl last week. However, after a second of thought, a condescending smirk finds its way to his face.

He says, jerking his chin to vaguely gesture at her bruised up face, "Purple really suits your complexion. It makes your eyes pop, don't you think?"

Though the swelling of her black eye has deflated in the days since the fight that’ll soon tally up to a week, the verbal jab hits right where it intended to if the light leaving her eyes tells him anything. She bounces back after a second, though, ever the relentless pest they've come to see her as.

She offers a sickeningly sweet, yet fake smile to mirror the one gracing his striking features and spins so her back meets the locker beside his, allowing herself to invade his space further.

A collection of Y/N's stickers decorates the inside of his locker door that he briefly entertained the idea of designating as a place to bang his head against. They range from girly, glittery ones to those he willingly picked when she gave him the choice. Whenever they're at his locker together, she sticks one on the inside, and the evidence of the habit catches Kacey's wandering eyes.

Her fingertips brush against the surface of the sticker-covered metal while she ignores his protest of, "Can you not touch my stuff?" to inspect them. Since one of the Pogues in particular is famous for her endless supply of stickers, her expression sours at the thought of the girl responsible for them.

She spares him a quick glance out of the corner of her eye as she continues to analyze the sticker collection against his instructions not to, asking, "Why weren't you at the bonfire?" A failed attempt at a seductive look in his direction makes him fight not to roll his eyes. "After how last year's ended, I thought you wouldn't miss it for the world."

JJ doesn't bother to take a second to think things through before he reaches to slam the door closed with her hand still outstretched inside of it. Watching her pull it away just in time to avoid jamming it in the locker probably pleases him more than it should, but he can't help it. His hand catches on the edge of the door, halting it in place right before it closes where her hand previously rested.

She doesn't look too happy with him when he opens the door with no harm done except for the drop of her stomach when he initially pretended to swing it shut on her bruised knuckles. She didn't get many shots in on Y/N when they fought, but apparently it was enough.

He doesn't bother with the fake niceties she's giving him after the disrespect she showed him, his friends, and, most importantly, his girlfriend. The fact that she thinks she has any right to breathe in his direction, let alone flirt with him, after she stole JB's bandana is criminal. 'Cause not only did she mess with Y/N, she messed with John B on multiple levels, and his loyalty to his best friend hasn't disappeared with death. Kie and Y/N told him everything she said about their departed friend in the locker room last Thursday.

But he's smart enough to know what'll hurt her more, so he doesn't go for the general scolding he imagined giving her in his head. Since he was told everything about the encounter in the locker room, he knows she's still holding their history together near and dear to her heart.

"We stayed home," he says, casual and cool as always, with added emphasis on the first word, "You know how it is, my girl doesn't like parties. Especially not ones with kooks."

Hook, line, and sinker.

She scoffs, "Your girl?"

Looking at her now, he wonders if she was always this stupid, or if this is a new development she's had in the year since he last spent more than a minute or two at a time with her. It’s easier to trick her than it was with Kie and Y/N a few days ago, and those poor girls flew into that trap like moths to a flame.

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

The ire is visible in the way her face tenses up in places, her lips pressing together a little more firmly and her forehead creasing between the brows.

"Doesn't your, um, history bother her?" she asks, and he's gotta give her credit for being a sneaky little shit when given the chance. The girl takes every possible opening she can to strike for a potential weakness. "No offense, but you kinda get around."

He shrugs this time, deciding to drop his casual act and aim straight for the jugular.

"She likes having someone who knows how to fuck her right, actually, but I really appreciate the concern."

Much like Kie's reaction to their matching tattoos in the hot tub the other night, her jaw is unhinged to meet the unswept hallway floor they stand on. It makes him wish Y/N weren't suspended in order for her to see the gobsmacked reaction Kacey has to the harsh dismissal. Though he wouldn't want to incite an extra round of the Kacey vs Y/N WWE showdown by having her watch another girl flirt with him and essentially call him a slut upon rejection, he knows she'd get a kick out of it.

This one's for you, baby, he thinks with a quiet laugh to himself and turns his focus to the sticker collection she so lovingly crafted.

There are plenty of summer themed ones left over from the same pack he gifted her for her birthday with the surfboard sticker she used to tease him, as well as a newer genre of Valentine's Day stickers she started using the closer they grew since first getting together. They're mostly different colored candy hearts with corny phrases ranging from "U SXY THING" to the classic "BE MINE" and one printed with "ANGEL" on it—his favorite by far.

However, others are random ones from her endless stash built up over the years from birthdays and holidays deemed worthy enough by her dad to stop by Dollar Tree for a new pack, so the one he sets his attention on is likely meant for teachers or coaches to give to their students. The opportunity appears too good to be true to him when it clicks, but it isn't.

He peels the sticker off of the locker door, careful not to disturb the ones around it, and leans in closer to her to place it on the front of her tank top.

"Leave us alone or I won't stop her next time," JJ says lowly, past the point of civility, then backs away to slam his locker shut for real this time as his voice raises back to a normal volume, "And keep John B's name out of your mouth, got it?"

All she can do is look down at the sticker placed on her shirt with squinted eyes to try and read it while he walks off in the direction of his next class. It tears away from the fabric with a soft noise, and when she finally reads it, she rolls her eyes.

“Good Try!”

​​Walking out of school to see the Twinkie parked in the usual spot Y/N takes when she isn't suspended is a delightful treat he didn't know to expect after a rough day in class and his run in with Kacey. His head was hung low on his way to Kie's car to hitch a ride to his house before going home to the Chateau, since he had some things to pick up with his dad out of the picture for the near future, but then he heard her greet them.

JJ's body melts into hers upon contact, and he nearly pushes her up against the closed passenger side door of the van with how hard he hugs her. Though he doesn't want to acknowledge it, his dad has been living in his thoughts more than usual today. Ever since he texted him goodbye, he's been withdrawn inside of his head more and more, and after today's inconveniences, the rising anxiety of his plan to visit home has him two seconds from losing his mind.

Her eyes widen at his zeal, meeting Kie's concerned gaze from over the shoulder she rests her chin on. She stands with her keys swinging around her finger as she watches the couple embrace one another. In an answer to the silent question Y/N asks her in their stare, her lips mouth the words, "His dad," to her.

Deep down, Y/N had a feeling.

It began with his impromptu request to run away with her a few days ago and extended into his uncharacteristically reserved attitude the next morning that receded somewhat, but has yet to fully disappear. There is a part of her that's upset that he hasn't come to her to talk about it, to communicate the way they swore they would, yet she also knows it isn't that simple.

She has to remind herself that she knew what she was getting herself into with him. That's not to say that dating her must be a walk in the park for him, it isn't.

She knows based on the amount of times he had to hold her as she cried, or the time he curtailed her panic attack in this very parking lot, that she hasn't made it easy for him in the aftermath of John B's death. But it's because she knows how it feels that she has such patience with his communication issues.

It's not a conscious choice most times, it's an involuntary blockage preventing the words from being spoken no matter how desperately they long to be. They may have made a promise, but she won't chastise him for succumbing to the same pitfalls as her. It’d be hypocritical.

"Bad day?" she asks.

Her voice is tender with him, prodding gently for a clue as to why he pounced on her on sight. He sinks further into her arms at the sound and lets the sanctity of her touch sway him into submission. Everything about her sets him at ease, if only for a second. Her hand lifts the beat-up red hat from his head to allow the other to brush through his hair.

There's a hum of agreement that she feels vibrating through the center of his chest into hers, and her arms pull tighter around his shoulders in response. This time, when she looks up to see Kie there, she's waving a quick goodbye and setting off toward her car, clearly giving JJ the space he needs.

"We can go to the beach," she says softly, "I have a towel in the back of the van, we can just lay there and talk about it if you want."

The idea of her kind offer to him should add to the comfort he finds in her embrace. It should make him nod and whisper his gratitude to her for being the one person that knows him better than anyone, but it brings him back to the gloomy headspace he was in before seeing her.

It started as a minor distraction when he first arrived at school after carpooling with Kie. It followed him in the quieter moments, only making appearances when he wasn't distracted with more pressing matters. It began as that and built the closer the day came to ending. The sooner his inevitable visit back to his childhood home came, the more he lost himself in his fear, reverting back to a state of helplessness he now occupies with no small amount of shame.

His bottom lip trembles with the urge to cry.

"Can we stop somewhere on the way home first?"

The last place she expected him to drive the Twinkie is here.

As they made their way down each street, taking each turn necessary to bring them closer to the house he seldom let her go to over the course of their lifelong friendship, she felt her heart begin to race. And now, as the van rolls to a stop in the yard in front of his house, she has swallow back the lump in her throat at the sight of it.

She has only been here a few times.

The first time, she was seven years old.

It was a sweltering summer morning in the Outer Banks for her and John B as they set off to retrieve their friend after he missed their plans to meet up at the Chateau for a day of having fun, riding bikes, and playing on the boat. Pirates and Princesses was her favorite game to play with them because JJ would switch roles with her halfway through when she grew tired of being the damsel John B had to rescue from the most cruel and vicious Captain Jesse James Maybank.

The HMS Pogue would rock beneath his feet as he marched across the deck of the boat and took her place as the kidnapped Princess Routledge. He handed off his "sword" to her, a stick he found in the yard, and stood at the edge of the boat with his hands behind his back as though he were a tied up damsel in distress for her to hold captive. The sun setting behind them laid a picturesque backdrop that made the scene all the more vivid to their imaginative young minds.

The boat floated in the afternoon current as John B approached the pair with his best pretend face of worry for the fair Princess Maybank, who had the sharp sword of the pirate queen pressing into his throat with the threat of death should he have tried to escape.

Sometimes, she'd let John B advance on them and tie make believe rope around her wrists and ankles while he and Princess Maybank claimed their victory. Other times, they'd get backed up until the heels of her sneakers hung off the edge of the slippery deck. One move from her brother would have her yell something along the lines of not taking either of them alive, then she'd let her and JJ fall back into the marsh together with gleeful laughs infiltrating the humid air upon their return to the surface.

On the day he didn't show up, none of that happened. She and John B rode their bikes together along sidewalks until they pulled into a driveway marked with the address number he remembered from the other time he sought him out to play before.

Y/N didn't understand what they were hearing when they pushed their kickstands down and called out for their friend, but John B's little face blanched at the sound flooding out of the opened windows of the dilapidated yellow house. It was a combination of banging against the walls, glass shattering, and childlike shouts of frustration and pain. Her big brother placed himself in front of her protectively when the front door opened and smacked against the side of the house, but it wasn't his dad storming out of the house, it was JJ.

His eyes widened at the sight of the siblings standing there, and his heart dropped to his stomach at the realization that they heard it. Maybe not all of it, but based on how the girl peeking out around John B's shoulder looked at him, they heard some.

The van is parked in the exact same place their bikes once were, the exact place she and John B stood years ago when they were first confronted with the harsh reality about their best friend's home life, and he looks like he has fully backpedaled into the state of mind his childhood self inhabited. Even when he turns the key in the ignition and lets the rumbling engine sputter down in silence, he sits in the driver's seat with his lip drawn between his teeth in thought.

Yet as soon as she summons the courage to say something, he takes a deep breath and opens the door without a warning or the typical instruction for her to stay in the car. He doesn't tell her to follow him in, nor does he order her to stay out as he used to when his dad still lived inside. He gives her the choice to make on her own, and, when faced with the opportunity to support him or stay outside like the confused little girl she once was, she chooses the first option.

Her swift steps kick dirt up from the earth onto her ankles as she follows him out of the van to the front steps of the house. She tries not to make her concern for him as evident as it'd be without her intervention on her way up the porch, but it's impossible to erase every sign of it from her face.

It isn't a particularly special or scary house. It's a normal home that'd likely look more inviting if JJ were still living here to mow the lawn and tend to the household upkeep his father saddled him with since he was old enough to be put to work. But she knows better than to trust the street appeal. As he takes her hand to lead them through the threshold of the haunted structure, she is overcome with a sense of creeping trepidation that she can't shake.

"You're sure he isn't here?" she asks.

The entryway is crowded with stacks of mail his father wasn’t bothered to open, as well as empty cardboard boxes that once held cans of beer that are scattered, empty, in various places around the house. Her question is answered by the state of the rooms they breeze past in the direction of his bedroom, but she needed something to say to fill the silence. With them, they usually don’t feel uncomfortable not speaking to each other, but this feels different.

The way he stares out in front of him with his hand squeezing hers hard enough to cut off circulation unnerves her more than the tainted energy of the house itself. He isn't himself. He's a shell of the JJ they know and love, the JJ who is most comfortable tucked away in the safe walls of the Chateau with their friends, not here. If anything, how he is while he's here is the antithesis of his behavior while living with her.

Ever since John B died, he's practically moved in with her. When they're hidden away in her house without the reminders of his home life in sight, he's usually the caretaker of the relationship. It comes naturally to their dynamic, both with him being slightly older and his promise to take care of her, but everything is flipped here. It's an alternate reality for him, or, perhaps, actual reality smacking him in the face after a carefully constructed two months in utopia with her.

They come to a stop in front of his closed bedroom door.

"He's gone," he says, not even sparing a glance at her for reasons she can't decipher, "He texted me a few days ago to say goodbye."

With that, he turns the doorknob and lets the door swing open to reveal the bedroom she only saw one other time.

The second time, she was thirteen years old.

It was a Friday.

Since his dad was supposed to be at work, they stopped at his house on their way home from school exactly like they did today so he could share with their friends what he got from his cousin the night before. Being the good girl she was, she didn't even know what he was showing her when he dug it out of the backpack in the bottom of his closet.

Her brows furrowed at the ziploc bag, more specifically the contents inside of it. She was knelt down on the floor in front of the opened closet door with her shoulder pressed up against his to inspect it. The dried green cluster of a plant didn't look like anything she'd seen before, and she couldn't help but ask him what the hell it was rather than react the way he knew the others would.

"What is it? It looks like dried up moss."

JJ laughed and pulled another bag with rolling papers and a grinder stowed inside.

"It's weed. My cousin Ricky gave me a discount since—"

He halted mid-sentence abruptly enough to startle her, his head turning in the direction of where he heard a trunk pulling up to the front of the house. Her stare was still set on where he was holding the plastic bags in his hands, and she noticed, after he stopped speaking in reaction to his dad coming home, that his hands began trembling. It was so minimal, she almost didn't catch it until she saw the bag wavering under the light coming in from his window.

Before she could open her mouth to say anything more, she felt his hands on her shoulders shoving her into the closet. He followed in closely behind her and crawled in until they were both crammed into the confined space together. With the closet doors shut in front of them, he clamped a hand over her mouth, whispering in her ear for her to be quiet.

She stands with her arms crossed over herself in the center of his room, and though nothing has yet to be said or done to convince her anything is wrong, that's the exact reason why she feels so unnerved by the entire experience of coming here.

He's silent.

The closet doors are wide open as he stuffs the rest of the clothes he had yet to bring to the Chateau into the biggest bag he could find. He rips through his belongings in a fit of melancholy driven anger. His thoughts are swirling with similar memories to the ones she conjures from being here again, but his are tinged with a darkness hers don't have, even with hearing him crying in pain as a child and hiding in the closet with his hand smothering her mouth to evade his dad.

JJ visibly grimaces at the memories he's forced to relive in flashes with every glimpse he gets of the room he spent so much time hiding in. It used to be more tolerable to be here, or at least easier to suffer through. At least he was used to it before, but he got so accustomed to life somewhere else that the second he was confronted with coming back, he started to fall apart.

Whatever he can't live without, he finds space for it in the bag and prepares to leave the rest behind. But every object he touches and step he takes around the room brings him back to the person who he spent his adolescence simultaneously fleeing and wanting more from. More notably, it brings him back to the train of thought that has been nagging him ever since he texted him over the weekend.

The third and final time she came here was over the summer.

It happened right before Hurricane Agatha waged war on the island, when none of the Pogues heard from JJ for two days after he said he had to go home to help his dad with something. She didn't want to track him down to his house after they went over twenty-four hours without a single message. She didn't want to have to go back to the house that gave her chills to think about, let alone go to again after they hid in his closet when they were younger, but he gave her no other choice.

What was she supposed to do except go check on him where he last said he'd be? After all, if she lived in the hazardous environment he did, he'd do the exact same for her. If their friends were involved in her thoughts at the time, they would've gone out on a limb to say he would've gone beyond what she did to protect her if the situation were flipped. If he knew someone was hurting her, he would've come in swinging first and asked questions later, but, in her defense, he strictly told her to never come back to his house. By walking over in the first place, she was breaking one of the fundamental rules of their friendship.

Nevertheless, she found herself crouching around the side of his house to find his bedroom window and check if he was in there. Kie and Pope weren't aware of what was happening with his dad yet, but she and John B accidentally found out years ago, so she wasn't wondering why he wasn't answering them, she was wondering if he was alive.

Part of her truly thought underneath it all that Luke might've killed him. He might've been too drunk or high and went too far when beating him, too far to the point where he didn't want to risk going to jail to take him to the hospital for help. She couldn't live with herself if she didn't check, and if he got pissed at her for showing up against his wishes and didn't want to speak to her ever again, she could live with that.

She knocked on his window in a cadenced beat loud enough for it to heard through the room but not any further. After the first series of knocks, no one came to the window. It ripped her heart to pieces to wonder if she'd see him again as she continued to knock and allowed the sound to increase in volume in hopes that maybe he was asleep, but it didn't bring anyone to the window.

It wasn't until she turned back around to go to the front of the house again that she bumped right into the solid wall of his chest and was pushed back up against the house. The question of what she was doing there was on the tip of his tongue, but she said something that stopped him from asking it.

Her arms were thrown around his shoulders in a desperate bear hug.

"Oh God, JJ, you scared me half to death!" she cried into the front of his shirt, "I thought he killed you!"

He can't help but think of it as he packs his belongings away for a final time to bid his hellish childhood home goodbye: What kind of life are they going to have together if they can't get off this island? Running away may have been an idealistic drunken fantasy for him to entertain after his conversation with Pope got him to admit his true feelings for her, but they both know his consistency can't be trusted.

One moment, he's planning to tell her. The next, a day like today comes along, sweeps his legs out from beneath his body, and he's questioning whether it's worth it to force her to put up with his fickle commitment to her. It isn't fair to her, is it?

Right now is just about when he'd normally start to hyperventilate with an oncoming wave of panic, and he does, but he can't let it fully sweep into him with her here. He fights the urge to smack his head with the heel of his palm, as if that'd forcibly remove the poisonous thoughts infiltrating his mind and ruining the careful work they've done together to remedy their issues with communicating their feelings.

Just like you ruin everything, a thought whispers in the corner of his mind. What made you think this would be any different?

His actions around the room have turned somewhat aimless and distracted, which she notices as soon as he starts to disintegrate into a mess of heavy breaths and self-sabotaging thoughts. She picks up on the shift in his energy as soon as the anxiety starts to wash over him, and she'll be damned if she continues to stand here quietly to let it happen.

It's one thing if he's being silent because being here upsets him, or if he simply doesn't know what to say, but she refuses to let him tailspin into a mental breakdown without doing something to stop it. Whether he knows it or not, after what they went through with him trying to push her away last week, she knows what's occurring within his mind right now.

He flinches at the feeling of her hand grabbing his shoulder to turn him to face her at first, and when she reaches again with her other hand to try to hold his hand as he cries, he shrugs off her touch.

"JJ..." she lets the solemn sound of her own voice murmuring his name trail off, "it's just me."

His head shakes at her consoling words. Everything else inside of his mind is so earth-shatteringly loud, he can't drown it out with logic or reason to bring himself away from the memories of his dad. Those intrusive thoughts keep attacking him with doubled, then tripled force the harder he tries to resist them, and he's so exhausted from it. All of it—the memories, his dad going to jail, and his inability to accept her love to its fullest extent without convincing himself she'll abandon him—is exhausting.

This time, when she rests her hand on his shoulder, he swats it away as the frustration of today crushing him with the force of an avalanche. Not to hurt or scare her, but to get her hands off of him before he bursts out of his skin with the sickness it stirs in his stomach. So detached from himself, he anticipates pain from every touch she gives him, and he knows it hurts her.

JJ hardly recognizes his own voice as he backs away from her a step and says, "Don't."

He can tell it hurts her based on how she looks at him immediately after, but he can't handle being touched right now. How did this happen so quickly? It was overwhelming when they first parked outside, but as soon as he stepped foot inside, it was as if a switch was flipped inside of him and all of the buried feelings he kept hidden over the past two weeks exploded into this.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"You need to leave. I just-I can't breathe and"—He still refuses to look up from the ground or see her face as he paces around the room with no real intent in mind—"You can't see me like this."

That is what breaks her out of her soft spoken, timid attitude to handle the situation the way it needs to be handled. Their natural dynamic worked best for him to take charge when she had her panic attack because JJ acts first and thinks later. He saw that she was in distress and jumped in to help her before things got worse rather than allowing her to keep him at an arms length where he couldn't do anything about it.

Taking a page from his rule book, she takes action.

The room surrounding them is in a state of disarray from him searching through it for the items of clothing and objects now stashed in his duffel bag. There are multiple obstacles in her way as she steps between them like navigating a minefield to reach him after he backed away in instinctual fear, but they don't stop her from reaching him. Nothing could.

Y/N walks right up to him and reaches to grasp his face between her hands, forcing him to stop pacing around and actually look at her for the first time since they arrived her so he hears what she says. To say the least, the way he looks right now is enough to make her cry. There are tears welled up to the brims of his blue eyes, his lips are downturned with his sobs, and he's staring at her like she's about to strike him.

She says it as slowly and clearly as she needs to get it through his head, "He's not here," and before he manages to squeeze out another word of doubt between his rapid inhalations, she cuts in, "Take deep breaths."

He isn't listening to her.

The movement of his chest that hits hers from how close they stand to each other has yet to settle into the familiar pace she remembers from nights of falling asleep with the rhythm of his breaths beneath her head.

Her eyes search his face frantically, from left to right and top to bottom, for any sign of the person she's known for years, but she doesn't see him. Instead, she sees the same panicked child her and John B saw the first time they visited this house. It's uncanny how similar the expression in his face is. It feels to her as if she's been hurled back in time to the moment itself, and when she tries to think about what would've worked with him back then, she doesn't know what else to do except help him escape.

So, with the helplessness of having to watch him turn into a sobbing, incoherent mess, she decides to step into the darkness with him and do what seven year old Y/N would've done. Just like their games of make believe, of pirates and princesses, she assumes the role John B would have and rescues him from what holds him captive. It’s his own mind in this case, but, in the physical sense, it's the house.

She drops her hands from his face and takes his hand in hers to drag him out of the room. The packed bag sits on the floor in their wake as she pulls him back through the bedroom door and into the living room, not caring about what they came here to do.

It doesn't matter anymore.

The various rooms of his dad's house pass by them in a blur as she leads him down the hallway to the front door with one sole objective in mind: get him out of here. If he wants his stuff to bring back to the Chateau, she'll go back inside and get whatever he needs her to, but she isn't letting him inside of this house again. Not under her watch.

Thankfully, since he is undeniably stronger than her and she wouldn't have stood a chance, he doesn't fight it. He stumbles after her guiding hand the same way he always has, just like how he followed her back to the Chateau after she and John B saw him that day when they were kids. She led the way as he sat on the handlebars of her brother's bike, and he watched her hair flutter in the wind with the momentum of their bicycle spokes until the tears dried up.

He watches her drag him out of the home until they've reached the safety of the yard at the bottom of the porch steps, and as soon as the soles of her shoes meet the dirt, she feels his hand slipping out of hers.

"JJ?"

She turns around to see him clutching his chest, rubbing his hand along the front of his shirt over his heart as though it'll loosen up the tightened muscles preventing him from catching his breath. His body weight is leaned onto the railing of the porch steps for support. He's partially slumped on it, looking at her desperately, like she somehow knows the answer to every question screamed inside of his head, and she has never felt as useless.

"You're gonna leave," JJ says through the gasps and cries that leave his cheeks stained with tears.

When she reaches out again to help him remain upright without leaning over the railing, he doesn't shove her hands away as he did inside of his bedroom. It's a small battle won, but she takes it as a win nonetheless.

"What are you saying? I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere—"

"You're gonna leave! Everybody does! My mom, John B, my dad, and you"—his head falls to look at the ground instead of her, and she watches him work through it in his head—"I mean, look at me. You don't want this."

"Don't tell me what I want," she says.

Her voice remains as steady and calm as she can force it to be amidst the turbulent situation, but the way he said it...It takes her right back to sitting in the back of the Twinkie with him at the Cherry Bowl, except it's ten times worse. That felt like a break up, but based on what he's saying, this is one. She hasn't prepared herself for the heartache she feels in response to it.

"You don't want me, you just think you do 'cause I was there after John B died, but you don't. You're gonna go off, find some perfect guy that isn't as fucked up as me, and have a great life somewhere else, but it ain't here," JJ says, his breathing evening out with the distraction of the argument to keep him tethered tor reality, "And it won't be with me."

He can see it every time he's looked at her and debated saying those three titular words that have been floating around in his head since he first met her.

How could she want someone who can't walk into his childhood bedroom without breaking down, or someone who still has years-old scars from cigarette burns on his skin when she touches him? Her bright future contrasted with his pre-designated fate on the Cut, her personality better matched with someone more similar to her, her life continuing on whether he's there or not—it's his worst nightmare, but he's prepared to see it through.

What he doesn't expect is for her to hold her ground.

"You honestly think I'm buying into that bullshit?" she asks.

"What?"

She doesn't put it softly, she states facts with as much harshness as his cruel fantasy had, "You're trying to push me away and I won't let you."

Her typically sweet, soft features have hardened into a bitter expression he's sure he mirrors. The arms holding his waist to keep him upright move to climb up his chest and cup his face between her hands with all of the gentleness her face and voice don't have right now.

She sees right through him.

When he tries to look away again, to avert his eyes to make what he's trying to do easier on himself by not having to look at her when he does it, her grasp on his face holds firm. Her hands guide his chin back up so they're face to face, and he realizes what a mistake everyone makes in assuming her this dainty, broken girl whose only source of strength came from the brother she lost. She's a forest fire.

"You're not hearing what I'm saying—"

Y/N interjects, "I am hearing what you're saying, I'm just saying it's bullshit."

She refuses to let him off the hook, and though it frustrates him on the surface, deep down, it makes him fall in love with her all over again. Her insistence against his speech about her leaving him proves him wrong more than anything else could, 'cause he gave her the perfect chance to dip and she shot it down instantly.

The house looms behind them as a menacing presence that threatens to take control of him again, but she doesn't let it. She keeps his eyes on her no matter how many times he tries to look away and doesn't let anything get in the way of what she says next.

"You think that if you push me away and get me to leave you right now, it'll hurt less than it would if I did it later, and I don't accept that. I won't take the bait and let you torture yourself anymore, okay? I can't speak for anyone else, but I know I'll never leave you. Not willingly, anyway."

She looks into his eyes, and this time its softer, more loving, and he's never felt as understood as he does when she continues to speak.

"I'm in love with you. Whether it scares you or not, it's the truth, and I'll never stop saying it. If you think that your issues with your dad are gonna change that for me, you've officially lost your mind." Their noses brush as she leans in to ghost a kiss over his mouth and pulls away a second later to whisper, her forehead pressed to his, "I love you, JJ. Stop being so stubborn and just let me."

His next breath in trembles as he lets her words sink in, and he's stuck at a crossroads inside of himself without a clue of what to do.

The breeze blows her hair away from her face, the afternoon sunshine painting her golden, and when he sees her hair flutter in the air like it did so many years ago, he can't help but feel as calm as he did during their bike ride home. The further away he got from his dad and the house where it all happened, the calmer he grew, and it hits him at this moment that he's so taken aback by her confession to him, he forgot why he was so upset.

It's sobering. The intoxication of his panic hurtled him back in time to the frightened, childlike state of mind his dad's violent abuse often sent him to, but it was hearing her say those words he's feared for weeks that brought him back. Like the jolt of a defibrillator, he's roused back to life with more clarity than before.

She loves him, but, perhaps more importantly, she said she'd never leave him, and that is what he needed to hear more than anything. That is the statement worth more to him than the four letter word he has agonized over endlessly. No one else every attached the promise of "I love you" with the stipulation of it lasting forever. They said the empty words and contradicted it with their actions, but she hasn't done that. Her actions spoke the words long before her mouth did.

He sighs.

It's a deep, yearning sigh that sends him melting into her with the acceptance of what he's denied for too long. He savors the hands cradling his head, as well as the body pressed up against his that he has memorized down to every beauty mark and imperfection, and makes the right choice.

It isn't like it was the night at the Cherry Bowl, or the night he spoke to Pope about it. It still takes more bravery than he possesses to form the words, but there isn't a physical incapability stopping him anymore. It's just him against the trauma beckoning him into its trap again, and he won't let it lure him back into that house.

"Alright," JJ says to her through a sniffle in acceptance to her command, as if he were agreeing on afternoon surfing plans rather than something as monumental as allowing someone to love him, then continues onto with a timid tone, "I love you too."

Before he can watch for her reaction, she's surging forward through the few inches of space left between them to connect their lips in a kiss.

It's vastly different to the kiss they shared in the hallway at school last Friday. In contrast to that one, the reigning emotion within him that drives the kiss after the hesitant beginning doesn't lead them into increased intensity, it gets gentler. It doesn't explode into chaos and passion, it's a tired kiss that he never wants to retreat from. It's the physical manifestation of his feelings for her underneath the guarded exterior he uses to protect himself: gentle and yielding, yet undeniably powerful.

He feels her smiling through her tears against his mouth. In the face of everything that happened this afternoon, he doesn't feel like he should be smiling back at her, but he does. He smiles while kissing her with tears streaming down his face, still reeling from his traumatic response to coming home for the final time, and wonders how a person can feel such contradicting emotions all at once.

Y/N is the one who starts to pull away first, though it's only to check in on him. If she had it her way, she could stay here with him until the sun sets, but he did just come back from the brink of a full-blown panic attack, so she can't in good conscience ignore his well-being for the momentary bliss of their love confessions.

Her thumb brushes over his bottom lip, her smile drooping with worry as she asks, "Wanna spend the rest of the day on the boat? You always say being on the water makes you feel better. Maybe it'll make it easier to talk about it."

His Adam's apple bobs with how he swallows the lump in his throat.

"Can we maybe take baby steps for now? I don't think I can handle telling you all that shit yet."

It was already enough to allow her to follow him into the house, watch him break down into a fit of panic no one else has seen him in, and tell her he loved her, but it'd cross the line into uncharted territory to talk about everything between him and his dad so openly. Between the minor annoyance of dealing with Kacey to this hellish visit home, he thinks he's reached his quota on feeling uncomfortable today.

She nods in agreement.

"Baby steps."

Drawn back to each other by a force stronger than gravity, they collide again, but it isn't a kiss this time. It's a hug charged with all of the previously unspoken emotions they've buried inside of themselves for years, the same hug she gave him the last time she came to this house with the fear of his potential death lingering in her thoughts.

She throws herself at him with the same desperation she did that day and relishes the feeling of his muscular arms returning the embrace until their bodies are tangled together. She'd usually never refer to something as inherently affectionate as an embrace as violent, but it's the closest she can come to capturing how it feels as their bodies meet. It makes her lose her footing on the bottom step they stand on together, teetering on the edge she'd surely slip off of with the force if not for him keeping her steady.

He's about to say something, a thank you to her for calling him out on his bullshit and not letting him go that easily, when the grating sound of her ringtone blares from the back pocket of her denim shorts.

The contact popping up on the screen along with a series of frantic messages when she pulls away from him to answer shows Pope's name.

Pope You and JJ need to get back to the Chateau ASAP!!

The van doors slam shut behind Y/N and JJ as soon as it rolls to a stop in front of the Chateau.

Under the assumption that something dire happened, as in injury or death or catastrophic damage to the house itself, they bolted off of that porch faster than they knew they could move. She only turned back when she remembered the packed back of JJ's things they abandoned on his bedroom floor and, not wanting him to reenter the house, she brought it back to the Twinkie in record time.

They're preparing to trample up the porch into the house like a stampede of animals when they hear Kie calling them over to the backyard and change direction.

"No one's hurt!" she shouts, knowing that was likely where their minds went after everything they went through during the summer, "You have to see this though, I don't know who did it!"

Sticks and fallen leaves crunch beneath her feet on her way around the side of the house. Her mind races with the possibility of what could've happened that didn't hurt their friends but necessitated a series of texts and calls as frantic as the ones she received at JJ's house. She drove over here in defiance of the speed limit, something she rarely does, and prayed nothing terrible was happening.

It gave her flashbacks to when she found out John B and Sarah died in the storm. The pedal beneath her foot brought the van to an uncomfortably swift speed, then she remembered the sound of Shoupe's voice when he gave them the news. JJ warned her to slow down, then she remembered how it took multiple people to help her restrain him from attacking the new sheriff for letting his men drive their friends into their deaths.

At first, she doesn't realize what's wrong.

Kiara and Pope are standing and waiting for them across the grass near the large tree that sits as a centerpiece to their yard. Based on the body language screaming their frustration and the tears in their eyes, she can tell something bad did happen, but it's not clear what it is until she looks past them to the tree. More specifically, until she looks at what's on the tree.

"Oh my god," she whispers to herself.

Her hand is already up to cover her mouth and conceal the instantaneous frown besmirching her previously relaxed face. They both are stopped in their tracks halfway to where their friends are standing, and she can’t hear JJ's reaction over the rising volume of her hysterical thoughts.

Spray painted in red on top of their memorial for John B are the words "COP KILLER" in bold letters that conceal what they burned into the tree trunk for his gravestone. It sticks out from the beauty of the greens, browns, blues, and swathes of other earthy tones composing the scenery around the Chateau like a thorn amongst flowers, so much so that she wonders how she didn't instantly see it when they rounded the corner to come back here.

Yet that isn't the only thing amiss in the peaceful sanctuary they call home, there are random things strewn around the ground around the tree. An old t-shirt spray painted with the word "murderer" on the front, four ripped up envelopes, and a gorgeous mahogany jewelry box...broken on the grass.

The freshly turned dirt they had the contents of the box buried beneath is scattered around the trashed area as well. It clicks with her a few seconds late that whoever came here to do this must have seen the pinwheel she put in the ground to mark the "grave" and dug it up to add insult to injury.

She moves forward without consciously realizing it and stumbles until she reaches the first object of the debris field. Before this, she was doing a masterful job of holding in her cries, but as soon as she crouches down to pick up the pieces of the jewelry box, the lid snapped clean off the hinges to separate it from the bottom section, it comes rushing out of her against her will. The first unrestrained keen is the first thing to snap JJ out of his shell shocked trance.

He walks after her as fast as his legs will take him without breaking into a run, but she isn't letting him get close before she puts the box back down and shuffles forward to collect the torn letter remains. She doesn't want them to get blown away by the wind anymore than they already might have been, so she scrambles to gather the pieces until they're cupped in her hands to protect them.

"Why?" she asks and looks up at Kie and Pope with tears dripping down her face, "Why would anyone do this? Who would do this?"

Pope says, "My guess is as good as yours. We didn't see anyone leaving when we got here, so it must've happened before school ended. This is all we saw before we called you guys."

For a second or two, JJ is grasping at straws for why this happened and who did it like the rest of them are, but then something Pope said makes it click into place. It sets off a domino effect in his mind as he brings back the memory of a certain offspring of satan being absent from gym this afternoon despite being at school earlier, since his encounter with her before Physics made him, unfortunately, aware of her existence again.

His face is set in anger, jaw clenching with the tension of him grinding his teeth together, and he takes his hat off to fidget with it between his hands for a second. Their friends are too focused on her crying to see him contemplating it, but as soon as he speaks, they look up to see him setting his hat back onto his head in preparation to leave and track Kacey down.

Y/N's head snaps up from the torn letters in her hands to the sight of him storming off across the yard with his only goodbye being the words, "I'm gonna kill that bitch."

Her and Pope stare after him in shock, unable to put the pieces together about who that "bitch" is, but Kie doesn't miss a single beat. While Y/N is crumpled over on the ground in tears, she's rushing after JJ before he can approach the bike parked in front of the house. He doesn't even make it five steps before he feels her hands latching onto his wrist to stop him.

She asks, "Who the hell are you talking about? And why would they do this?"

His eyes narrow at her. His unreleased frustration for the situation in general and having to watch Y/N cry after an emotional afternoon together comes rushing out when he snaps at her.

"Kacey. She talked shit at school and I put her in her place. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna pay her a little visit."

He yanks his arm sharply towards himself to free it from her grip, but she's a step ahead of him. Quicker than he can think to stop her, Kie swipes the keys hanging out of his back pocket away and throws them to Pope, who, bless his heart, can't catch to save his life. The key ring jingles with its contact at the dead center of his chest, and she mouths an apology to him before turning back to face JJ.

"What the fuck, Kie?"

He makes to stomp past her and retrieve the keys from Pope only to be stopped by her hands reaching out to grab his shoulders.

"Listen to me, you can't go anywhere. Look at her," she whispers lowly enough to keep Y/N from hearing, pointing behind her to where she sits on the ground with Pope knelt beside her, "I wouldn't put it past Kacey to pull a stunt like this. I'm just as mad as you, but revenge can wait and you know it. She needs you."

The fury visible in his expression is subdued by looking past Kie's shoulder to see Y/N crying softly to Pope about the vandalized memorial.

The last time he saw her so distraught over something, it was the day they made the memorial and buried the box in the first place. She sits on her knees with her mom's broken jewelry box between them, shuddering with the sobs she has no control over, and pours the torn paper into the empty bottom half of the box. Exhausted to the core, she looks more like a sullen, kicked puppy than she does herself.

It makes his anger-fueled instincts that urge him to hunt Kacey down and do something, anything he can to make her feel the pain they do right now bubble down into sorrow. It's visible in his eyes when he looks at her.

Kie knows she's gotten under his skin when he sighs, sparing a parting glance to the bike in the driveway, and nods once at her before setting off back to where they're sitting in the grass.

Meanwhile, Y/N is stuck staring down at the disarray of her backyard with nothing but pain aching through her to the bone.

Her brother did wrong things sometimes as a consequence of being human, but never this, never something worthy of having his name dragged through the mud and being branded a murderer after his death. He stole scuba gear from Ward and broke dozens of laws in their hunt for the gold, but he never crossed that line into moral bankruptcy. Rafe did, and it kills JJ to see someone like Kacey do this to his best friend while hanging off of Rafe and his friends like a leech.

The fabric of his worn t-shirt is tarnished by the dried paint clinging to the front of it to the spell the lie written there, and her vision blurs with tears for what feels like the millionth time in the span of an hour. First, it was JJ. Now, it's John B, and she can't help but wonder if the heartache will ever end. It began to feel better over the course of the week, her grief for him slowly beginning to slip from her mind until now. Until the storm clouds converged again to batter her with another wave of it.

Through the deafening volume of her mind racing with thoughts and feelings to process what's happened, she hears Pope shuffling around to stand on his feet. Then, another person sits down in his place and scoots closer until their bodies are touching, and she knows it's him. She doesn't have to wait to hear his voice or look to see his face, she can tell based on the feeling of his touch and the smell of him she's so intimately familiar with, yet couldn't describe it aloud if she tried.

He doesn't smother her. He sits close enough to touch her and doesn't push it any further.

The background of the pale, cloudless sky frames him in the foreground like the subject of a painting—a living, breathing painting that she could study endlessly. The other trees planted in the yard's leaves flutter distantly behind him and try to draw her gaze away, but she keeps her eyes on him.

Maybe that's how it is, she thinks.

Maybe it'll get better and worse in a dance that'll only stop when they're no longer here to agonize over it. Maybe this is what moving on from John B will always be like. It'll feel like they've made strides in the right direction, then something will come along to shatter it to sharp pieces that'll reopen their stitched up wounds. If that's the case, at least the four of them have each other to lean on when it gets worse again.

JJ sits with her and lets her crawl onto his lap, resting her head on his shoulder, until the sun sinks below the horizon.

The gentle bobbing of the HMS Pogue at the surface of the water steadies her amidst her eddying thoughts. It keeps her present to the moment the way the ropes tying the boat to the dock keeps it from floating adrift into the marsh. It's a motion engrained in her from the start of her life until now from countless days spent on the water. Whether it be for fishing, swimming, or playing make believe with her boys all those years ago, it's as much a part of her as her personality or body itself.

JJ was right about one thing: being out on the water makes it easier to think.

He hasn't followed her out since she woke up before sunrise and snuck out of bed to come here. Despite her efforts not to wake him, he woke up when she disentangled her body from his, silently cursing the fact that they always cuddle so closely, and he tried to pull her back to him with a whine of displeasure in his groggy, half-asleep state. Sleep finally found them after hours of staying up together to talk about what Kacey did, unable to relax from the chaos of yesterday, so he wasn't prepared to wake up that soon.

"Go back to sleep, angel," she whispered as she hovered over him, brushing a chaste kiss to his lips that he was too tired to return.

That was the last time she saw him since this morning, and now that the sun has risen to its peak in the sky without her moving an inch from her perch atop the bow of the boat, she's begun to wonder if he's awake yet. It isn't uncommon for them to sleep in for half of the day when there isn't school or work, so it isn't surprising to her that he's just now waking up when she hears the back door to the Chateau opening and closing.

Unbeknownst to her, JJ has been awake the entire morning since she left bed.

They were so attached to each other yesterday night, he didn't have the time to put it together without her seeing and ruining the surprise, but once he heard the door to the porch close to signify her leaving, he kicked the blankets off of himself and got to work. He wasn't originally planning on starting so early, since they stayed up late into the night together, but once he woke up to the feeling of her sneaking out of his arms, he was too awake to fall back asleep.

The sound of his footsteps on the dock warns her of his approach, but she doesn't raise her head from where she rests it in her palms to stare out at the water.

"I was wondering when you'd finally wake up," she says.

There's another few steps, then the boat jostles with his weight stepping onto it.

He doesn't say anything to her in response. The only clue she gets as to what he's doing are the footsteps on the deck that lead closer to her until she feels him sitting down on the bow next to where she is. And she's about to open her mouth to ask if he's okay when he sets something down in front of her.

It's a shoe box.

Y/N turns to see him, eyes flickering over his tired face, and looks back at the box with furrowed brows.

"What is this?"

His hair is messy, exactly how it was when she left him in bed this morning, and if she weren't more focused on the mysterious box he plopped down in front of her, she'd be combing through it with her fingers. He's gotten used to those casual displays of affection from her; how she runs her hands through his hair on mornings before school when he forgets to brush it, or when she fixes a button on his flannel that he missed.

JJ's lips are tipped in a smile, and she can't help but blush with how he looks at her. She never used to see it, but he has always looked at her like this. Like he's hopelessly, utterly in love with her. Even before they lost John B, back when he'd expend all of his romantic and sexual attention on girls he hardly knew, he still looked at her this way.

He gestures at it and says, "Open it."

The lid of the box is coated in a freshly dried layer of blue paint to match the shade of the sky overhead. She knows instantly that he must have dug through the arts and crafts box she specifically labeled with a warning for him and John B to stay out. It's painted with aimlessly sloppy brushstrokes and stickers placed at every corner of the cardboard box, all of which she recognizes from the stash she kept under her bed alongside the India ink he borrowed last Friday.

As she gives him a skeptical look and reaches to lift the lid off of the shoe box, she makes a mental note to rewrite the label on the arts and crafts box without the warning for him to keep out. Since John B isn't here to steal anything from it and JJ never follows that rule anyway, it's redundant at this point.

Any skepticism is washed away from her face as soon as she flips the lid open to reveal what's inside. It leaves her speechless as she looks down at it all.

"JJ..." she murmurs in awe.

Sitting at the bottom of it is a folded up t-shirt she saw JJ wear multiple times, but never again since John B died. He refused to glance at the shirt his best friend gave him the year before they never saw him again, let alone dig it out of the corner of her closet where he keeps his things...until now.

But that's a scratch on the surface of all of the things about his gift that stuns her to silence. The next thing to catch her immediate attention is a picture she hasn't seen in years.

It's one that Big John took of the three of them together right where she and JJ are sitting. She was much younger in it, flashing a toothy grin with her arms thrown over both boys' shoulders. To her left, John B was leaning his head on her shoulder. To her right, JJ was wearing an eyepatch they crafted out of an old black shirt he stole from his dad. It was cut with the kitchen scissors and tied around the back of his head in a knot.

She brushes her thumb over John B's face, then sets the crinkled photograph back down atop the folded shirt and moves her attention to the last surprise.

Letters.

Torn up pieces of paper painstakingly taped back together sit one on top of the other, some missing pieces here or there, and it makes her mouth part in shock. Her hands shuffle the letters apart to see each one and recognize the handwriting: Kie's bubbly, swirling letters, Pope's neat cursive, hers, and JJ's chicken scratch writing that she's able to decipher from years of proofreading his essays.

She pictures him at her desk all morning while she was sitting out here, ripping tape off of the roll and arranging the puzzle pieces of the ripped letters until he was sure he got it right. It made him want to rip the hair from his scalp, but he sat there and pushed through the frustration to make it as perfect as he could for her. The missing pieces were primarily from Kie's letter, which fluttered away on a balmy breeze when Kacey tore it up and threw it to the ground, but the one he wanted her to have the most wasn't missing more than a single piece.

Y/N looks up from the letters held like a precious treasure in her hands to see him watching her with that same classic JJ smile on his face, but he doesn't let her get a word in yet.

"Go on," he says, leaning closer to pull his letter to John B out and place it on top of the pile for her to read, "I want you to read it."

"You didn't let me read it when I asked before though, are you sure you—"

He interrupts her before she can worry herself over it, "Dude, just read it. I promise I'm fine with it. I want you to."

The letters crinkle under her touch as she looks back down and smooths them out on the deck enough to read through the clear tape. With one last confirming glance to him for permission, she takes a deep breath and reads the first line.

Dear John B,

You really know how to keep a guy on his toes, don't you? You really outdid yourself on this one. I was so sure we were gonna make it, but I guess you had to go all Romeo and Juliet on us, huh? As long as you and Sarah are happy macking on each other in heaven, it's okay.

In all seriousness, I fucking miss you, bro. I miss you more than I realized a person could miss another person. Whenever I need to talk to you again, I don't know what to do. I guess that's why it's good that Y/N made me write this.

Also, I'm really sorry for—

"What does it say there? There's a whole chunk missing," she murmurs.

He scoots close enough to her that she can feel his body warmth radiating onto her through the shoulder of his flannel. Sunlight reflects on the silver rings decorating his fingers as he holds one side of the paper to tilt it enough for him to squint at.

"Macking, I think. It's supposed to say "I'm sorry for macking on your sister."

—macking on your sister. You can totally kick my ass for it, but before you come back from the grave to murder me, let me defend myself, okay? She isn't just another girl for me, John B.

I think you knew it before I did.

Last summer, you asked me straight up if we were hooking up behind your back after I kissed her in front of you on the porch. I laughed in your face, but you were right.

You saw everything before me, man. You knew I loved her since we were kids and waited for us to come to you about it, so that's gotta mean something, right? I hope it means you wouldn't be mad at me for this.

I swear I won't fuck it up with her, but you already know that. That's why you asked me to take care of her,. I didn't know why at the time but I do now. I won't let you down.

I'm keeping my promise.

- JJ

P.S. Don't miss me too much. We'll be shotgunning beers together up there before you know it.

There are tears blooming in her eyes when she lifts her gaze from the tattered paper to look at him again, but they aren't sad. For once, the tears slipping down her cheeks are happy tears, not born from grief, sadness, and pain, but bittersweet happiness.

They're caught staring at each other for a second before he asks her shyly, "It isn't too sappy or anything, is it? 'Cause I thought it—"

"C'mere," is the only thing she can get out before she's tugging him forward by the front of his shirt to kiss him.

JJ stumbles a little with the unexpected force of her pulling him to her, but he takes it in stride. He steadies himself and lets his hands shoot out to grapple for purchase on her waist, keeping her pressed up against him tightly as he kisses her back.

And it doesn't get much better than this, does it? This is it for him. He meant what he wrote to John B, he won't fuck it up with her, especially not because of his trauma with his dad getting inside his head and sabotaging his relationship with her. This is what makes everything worth it.

It brings happy tears to his eyes too.

She can taste the salt of them where their lips meet in the middle. It makes her smile, wrapping her arms around his neck and clenching the letters he mended for her in her fist to keep them from blowing away in the wind, and they both start to laugh into each other's mouths at the poignant feeling they both share but can't quite place.

They pull away from each other to catch their breath after another moment of it, and she can't help but stare. How could she not when she feels like this? It’s less like he’s her boyfriend and more like a piece of her soul has attached itself to his with no hope of letting go in the near future.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," she whispers to him.

Plain and simple. No room for disagreement or a bashful rejection of the compliment. She's pulled back from him enough to hold his gaze and make sure he sees her seriousness, and there isn't anything he can do to refute her statement.

He brushes his nose against hers affectionately, dipping down to kiss her again, but when he leans back to see her face, he can't help himself.

"Ditto."

The rest of the day after their moment on the boat, locked away in their own little world where none of the monsters chasing them could sneak through and ruin it, melts away peacefully. After another half hour spent looking through the box together, of her thanking him over and over again, he hops off of the HMS Pogue onto the dock and extends his hand to her in the most gentlemanly manner possible.

His lips are curved into a smirk as he kneels down on one knee as though she's a revered royal and bows his head in subservience, "Princess Routledge."

Her hand fits in his warm, calloused palm as a perfect match, and she steps off of the boat onto the dock beside him with an expression to match his.

"Captain Maybank," she says in her most regal royalty voice.

Her stellar performance breaks into a laugh they share as he stands and throws his arm around over her shoulder to walk back to the yard. The cardboard box is tucked beneath one of her arms while the other slips around his side to hold him back, and her heart feels full with both the presence of JJ and John B alongside her.

They bury it together.

Tag List: @gabiatthedisco, @fangirlvoice, @black-syren, @apparrio, @particularcth, @planetdemon, @idk-ijustworkhere, and @krisphann

Also, now that it’s over, let me know what your favorite part was in the comments or tags if you’d like to :) I’m curious.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks #obx #fanfiction #i'm gonna miss these dorks #🥺 #I love how he tries to break up with her and she’s like ‘no❤️’ #also totally do not put on ‘seven’ by Taylor Swift during the childhood flashbacks unless u wanna cry #cause I did and my sensitive ass was crying #that song is about John B and JJ okay #it just is

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 8 of ?)

gif by @thesoldiersminute can i send you a cake or something cause fuCk!!!!!!!!!!! he's beautiful

a/n: to everyone still reading this fic, my sweet angels, ily!! this fic is so near and dear to my heart and @stxdyblr-2k has just done such an amazing job with it i can't even thank her enough. as per the last part, this one is also mostly her, just me editing but i hope you guys love it as much as i did!!! don't worry, there's gonna be a lot more :) and i apologize for being not as active, i'm gonna try to get a couple of requests up that i'm really excited about this week tysm for being patient with me <3

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five six seven | my masterlist

prompt: ada has some talking to do, and you're not about to deny her.

warnings: fluff, semi-angst, tommy being the cocky mf he is (let's be real, it's only acceptable cause he's so damn fine), john being cute and in love and jesus i am head over heels

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03, @operation-spot

You had planned to go to Ada's after work, but she obviously had other ideas. She didn't even bother walking in and asking to speak to you; instead, choosing to bang on the window closest to your desk and yelling at you to "fucking hurry up!" Your boss opened the door for you expectantly, not offering you any protection; he was firmly in the Shelby's ever growing pocket and as long as he could go home to his children, his sickly wife and their six bed in the country, with a full time nurse and nanny, he had no interest in crossing Thomas.

"Ada, I was coming to see you after work, I swear."

"I know. I was going to let you but..." She trailed off. "We need to talk. I don't know what the fuck is going on with you. John said he'd seen you last night and you asked after me."

John had indeed seen you last night. It was strange waking up with him, used to leaving almost immediately after he was finished with you. Your small bed could barely comfortably fit you both, having to intertwine your limbs with John's to not fall off the edge. You had awoken to John pressing a kiss to your forehead before lazily trailing his fingers between your legs, waiting for you to open your eyes before settling between your thighs, tongue swirling around your clit, making you cum before sunrise.

"Do we have to do this in the street?" You practically begged, the shouting having attracted onlookers.

"I wanted to talk to you before anyone else in the family gets to you because I need you to be honest."

"Ada-"

"No, I'm doing you a favour here, so you fucking listen. Right now, between you and I, no bullshit. No tactics. No white lies. You have to tell me exactly what we're dealing with." She looked frantic, scared for some reason.

You nodded, walking her down the side street, careful not to link arms with her. You knew she was doing you a favour; this wasn't about forgiveness or friendship, much more was at stake here.

"To what extent was Thomas involved?"

That took you off guard. Ada read the confusion on your face and sighed impatiently, her subtle plea for you to keep up.

Shit. You remembered your conversation with John, how she thought this was her brother's way of pushing her out of the company.

"Don't spare my feelings. What did my brother say to you?"

"He said it was in our mutual interest that you didn't find out. He didn't care who John slept with but cared who you trusted so I had to trust him. He said there was no point in upsetting you over one of John's conquests who he'd tire of in a month."

"That all?"

"Pretty much, I didn't know Arthur knew. He never talked to me about it, did laugh at Thomas' digs now that I think on it-"

"Did you know Isaiah and Michael knew?"

"I thought they were aware but no one ever talked to me about it."

"Of course they wouldn't." She hissed, frustration causing a nerve on her neck to jump.

Ada and you had spoken for years about the rampant misogyny of her brothers and any men you two came into contact with. Although you were both far more reserved than you used to be as rebellious and adventurous thirteen year olds, you'd both grew increasingly angry at how you were treated. She'd long written off her brothers as womanisers, who saw women as purely sexual and entertaining, objectifying them. You both long despised how they dehumanised women. She was amazed that Thomas had attempted to settle down and managed a somewhat loving marriage, but resented him for his carelessness and need for power which inevitably killed his wife.

"Ada, I just want to say..." You licked your lip nervously, unsure of how to continue.

"You need to talk, Y/N. No bollocks."

"Before last night, he'd never been to mine or called. I always went to him."

The muscle in her jaw tensed.

"You slept with him last night then?" You met her question with silence and she rolled her eyes. "The second he said he saw you I knew you had, he wanted to tell me that he was going to continue seeing you and that he hoped I'd be able to accept it one day."

"We never intended to hurt you. It was meant to be fun at first, but now..." You cut yourself off with a sigh, unable to admit you'd fallen for her brother.

"Isn't fun for me. It's fucking embarrassing." She paused, lighting a cigarette, nervous to offer you one, conflicted within herself. She raised her eyebrow, prompting you to continue, the mannerism so similar to her brother’s.

"It should never have happened. I am never going to be able to fix this, I'm so fucking ashamed for doing this to you, Ada."

She sulked, silently drinking in your words.

"Obviously it's not going to be the same, yeah? I'm really fucking upset. I'm so fucked off with you but Poll's really worried about a coup. She thinks you're being used as blackmail against John to keep him on side with Tommy while he expands."

"Makes sense."

"You're part of a much bigger game, you know?"

You nodded. "Yeah, and I knew I would lose from the start. Fucking tragic, Ada."

"My brothers keep pushing, keep growing the business. They keep chasing this prize but I don't think it even exists."

"If it does, it isn't worth it if this shit is the cost. I didn't mean to play into his hands."

"You couldn't have known." She said with a shrug, " 'Siah thinks John loves you."

"He told me last night." Several times, this morning also. You would never tire of hearing him moan those words into your neck or being yelled from your front door as he left for the office.

"You love him, don't you?" She said bluntly, a statement more than a question, your face suddenly hot with embarrassment.

Everything you'd suppressed for months, everything that you'd hidden, every time you lied smiling, every knowing glance from a stranger, every degrading comment from under Thomas' breath.

"I do, an awful lot."

She pauses, relighting her cigarette, "The worst thing about the entire situation is it could've been fine if someone told me. I wouldn't have loved it, obviously, but-" Ada sighed, rubbing her temple with her free fingers.

"I thought you'd hate me."

"How could I? I'd be more angry that you'd drop your standards for my brother. Seriously? Him? Mate…."

"Come off it, I've always thought he was charming. He's funny, smart-"

"Don't gush over my brother, it's grim. I'm just so fucked off you all lied to me." She peered at you through her cigarette smoke. "If you love him and he loves you..." she pressed her lips together as she tensed her jaw, "I could get over it. If it'd make you both happy. But that's going to take a long time. A long time."

"Ada-"

"Look I have meetings and shit to sort, I have to run." She interjected, checking her wristwatch, adjusting the cap which sat atop her trendy short haircut. You caught her arm before she could turn away.

"Thank you. For understanding."

She shrugged you off, "I don't get it, I'd never do that to you. But you also don't get to choose who you're attracted to. I'm really hurt, but I do love you and John a lot. He mentioned that after last night you helped him, got him cleaned up. I have to believe that you both do love each other. So I have to believe that this is a good idea for you both and not stand in your way."

"I love you, Ada. Can we hang out soon, just us two?"

She shook her head. "I need some time, I'll be in touch, yeah?"

You nod, stretching out your pinky finger. She sighed and linked it with hers, as you'd done since you were children, a silent signal to each other after a fight that you still had the other's back.

"Right, I've got to get back to this meeting, Tom is getting done by Polly for nearly getting John killed. I need to be there in case one of the lads needs patching up."

"Your aunt has a nasty left hook, I'll give her that."

"She'll be pleased you think so, she wanted Tommy to slice you to bits for crossing me."

"Fuck’s sake, thanks for the warning, I'll keep my head down. Good luck with the meeting."

Ada nodded and you watched her walk away, a Blinder suddenly appearing by her side seemingly from nowhere. This city was crawling with them. They clambered into Ada's car as you watched the car disappear into the distance before walking back to work. Thankfully, with your head still attached to your shoulders.

*******

Ada arrived at Thomas' estate, following the swell of shouting voices to his exquisite library. It was eye roll worthy and typical Tommy to choose the location of his post-fuckup debrief to be where he had the best view of the gardens, river and rolling hills. She could bet he'd sit in a corner and stare at the view, zoning out their aunt's lecture.

An armed blinder she vaguely recognised opened the door. Thomas was making a statement today with the armed guards, she noted. Her brothers really were fucked up. Arthur was an alcoholic killer who couldn't understand that Thomas would betray them all eventually, Finn was letting the tokyo and the razor chasers that circled him distract him from keeping the family together, John was apparently in love with her best friend, and finally, Thomas nearly got Arthur and John murdered last night with his foolishness. At this point only herself and Polly were holding everyone together, keeping everything silently moving along.

The door opened, and she was the last to arrive, Polly glaring as she murmured an apology, standing next to Finn. His eyes were bloodshot, grey-purple smudges under his eyes, he'd obviously had a heavy night. The last thing the poor lad needed was Polly's shrill yelling and the blinding sun streaming through the large immaculately crafted windows, which he'd tried to block with the brim of his cap. John caught her eye, acknowledging his sister with a nod, which she returned with a small tight smile.

Ada couldn't bear to think about the reasoning behind her brother's smug interjections in between Polly's rant to Thomas who was listening wordlessly, smoking.

Y/N and John? It didn't make sense. They had a similar sense of humour, sure, but she was far too intelligent for him. He also had a swarm of children, while Y/N preferred a wild night out only staggering home at daybreak.

It made far more sense for Y/N to end up with Michael, or if it had to be a brother, Finn. They were younger, so had less responsibilities and commitments so they could keep up with her. But John? Of course she knew he was believed to be the Casanova of her brothers, he was kind, he was an excellent father, yet he could never keep anyone around long, usually John was chasing someone new after a month or so. That's why the revelation that John had been involved with her best friend for almost half a year had taken her completely by surprise. Maybe that was why she was open to them being together. That had to be it. This relationship was completely out of character for John; she needed to believe that he was serious about his feelings towards Y/N and wasn't going to fuck her over. Because if he did, John would be a dead man.

"I don't know why you're all bleating at me. Yeah, I overlooked some details in the planning of last night's meeting-"

"Such as warning us that they were really fucked off because you'd helped bomb their warehouse." John pointed out.

"What do you want me to do? Apologise? Grow up, John." Tommy snapped back.

"They had loaded guns against their heads, they deserve an apology." Ada interjected, John giving her an appreciative flash of smile. She did love her big brother. Despite the fact that she'd pretty much only been yelling at him for the past month, John never dismissed her feelings and only apologised. It was confusing to admit to herself, but when Isaiah told her that he was confident John loved Y/N, she felt a wave of relief. At least he cared about her; it was the bare minimum but the Shelbys were notorious for not even meeting the bare minimum for acceptable social interactions.

"They didn't fuckin’ get shot." Thomas stated, his voice matter of fact and condescending.

"Do you ever hear yourself speak?" Polly spit back at him. "They didn't get shot this time. But it was too fucking close."

"It won't happen again, Polly." Tommy sighed. "What else can I say? Sorry lads, take the weekend off?"

"It's a good start." Arthur countered, "You're also paying for the extension on my house and my wedding."

"Fuck’s sake Arthur I was joking. But fine. Sure."

"You can't buy your family off." Polly scoffed at him.

"Think of it as compensation, a settlement." Thomas coolly corrected his aunt. "What do you want, John? A fucking farm?"

John hesitates while Finn whispered suggestions to him, Ada meeting his stare, John raising a brow to her in question. She sighed and nodded her approval.

"You can pay off my mortgage Tom, give me the kids' birthdays off-"

"So you'd never come into work then?" Finn cut in, Ada elbowing him in the ribs. She usually enjoyed Finn's remarks but she knew where John was heading; she could barely breathe.

"Tom, you're also to leave Y/N completely alone. If you have a problem with her, you come to me about it." He said firmly.

Arthur and Tommy traded knowing looks, obviously more aware of the ins and outs of his relationship than Ada was.

"Also if you're paying for Arthur's wedding I want the equivalent in cash." He adds.

Tommy shrugged. "Whatever. As long as we can move past last night and focus on today's order of business."

John nodded, satisfied. He knew Tom wouldn't care, but just saying out loud that he was involved with Y/N and having his family aware was a relief. He hadn't realised until he finally admitted how stressful keeping his relationship a secret was. Now, he could stop worrying about Tommy interfering.

Polly rolled her eyes, lecturing the brothers on their lack of moral backbone to allow themselves to be bought off, but dismissed them. She caught Ada's arm in hers on their way out, pulling her far from earshot.

"So Y/N and John are together now?" She asked, her face firm and scowling.

"Polls, I talked with her, she's aware of what she's done. She apologised and meant it. What more can I ask for?"

"Her not to have fucked him in the first place."

"She said that. Look, Polls, they're happy right? John seems happy-"

"He always is when he gets a leg over."

"You know she looked after him last night? Fixed him up after the meeting."

"Meeting? It was a fucking set up." Polly hissed but her face had softened. "She cleaned him up?"

"Antiseptic, bandages and all."

Polly looked subtly impressed, although she'd never admit it. "He went to hers? Not yours?"

"He wanted to talk to her." Ada shrugs, "I saw her this morning and-"

"What do you mean? You bumped into her?"

"I went to her work." Ada admitted, her aunt shooting her an exasperated glare.

"Why do I bother? Nobody listens to me."

"I had to talk to her, I'm glad I did. She reckons she loves him, he told her last night that he loves her, so..."

"We are talking about John? Our John?"

"I know Polls, I'm as amazed as you."

Her aunt huffed, unimpressed. "Are you okay with it though?"

"I guess, I just want them to be happy. I've told them to give me time with it."

"She was a good friend growing up, but people change, sometimes for the better, often for the worse."

"Poll, it's Y/N; she's my best friend. At the end of the day, we'd do anything for each other."

"Sweet Ada, you're going to be so miserable if you keep letting people walk all over you." Polly said wisely, kissing her goodbye affectionately. "I hope you're right. If she makes you cry again I'll kill her myself."

"Thanks, Polls."

She knew her aunt wasn't joking.

#john shelby imagine #john shelby x reader #john shelby fluff #john shelby series #john shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fluff #john shelby #john shelby x you #peaky blinders imagine

[rose-colored-amy]

So, this is a continuation to my extremely short one-shot Last Moments, Last Regrets, but it can be read as a stand-alone. Regardless, I'll leave the link of that one in here:

Also, thanks to @coeurhh for suggesting I write a second part. You're a sweetheart 🥰

She made a lovely fanart/gif, which I'm also sharing, of course:

Prompt: AU. Sakura's death goes unnoticed to everyone but the squad she protected with her life and Tsunade. Team Kakashi doesn't find out until the very end, when Naruto and Sasuke have already had their fight, and there's nothing to do about it but mourn the absence.

Warning: Mild Sasusaku and lots of angst. Team 7 sort-of-fluff (?)

—Blue Bird, Let Go—

"Hey, bastard... I know they really let us down, the village, I mean."

"Aa... "

"But I really think it's not all that bad. When we were I team, I knew you understood. It felt like having a brother, believe it."

They were watching their lives go by, shadows of unknown faces passing by them, not noticing their pain, or not caring whatsoever. Their backs were touching, but it was all cold and bleak; a bad memory. A clan slaughtered, a demon sealed. Two lonely boys wallowing in their own sadness.

"Well, even if I don't make it, I'm glad it was you, bastard—"

"Shut up, idiot." His voice sounded strained, even for his standards, but Sasuke was so tired he couldn't even bring himself to care.

"We're really dying, ah? Wanna say something? I do have things to say, 'cause there's no way I'm dying—"

"In silence?" Sasuke interrupted, but Naruto payed him no mind.

"Without telling you how much of an asshole you've been! I couldn't even keep my promise to Sakura-chan! She's gonna be so damn mad when she finds out, I'm sure she'll drag me back to life just to cave my face in—" He was rambling at that point, but it was just so comforting and normal to Sasuke that he didn't even acknowledge it anymore.

"Hn. Sakura... She..."

"She still loves you, asshole. I don't have any idea how it can be possible but—"

"I'm sorry..." It sounded rushed, but Naruto heard it perfectly, and in the darkness of their shared consciousness, Sasuke heard a resigned sigh.

"Well, it's not that bad. I cannot imagine dying beside anyone but you, bastard."

"Idiot..." He made a pause. "Me neither."

"You're both a pair of idiots!"

Suddenly, the unreadable mass of unrecognizable faces around them cleared, and one figure stood in front of them, pink eyebrows frowned in annoyance. Though this version of Sakura looked familiar, it was one none of the boys had seen in a long time. Genin, long-haired, Sakura was glaring at them, arms crossed.

"Sakura-chan! What are you doing in here?!"

Her eyes softened. "What, so I'm supposed to let you two die, after everything? No way in hell!"

"Sakura..."

"You!" She pointed at Sasuke, who flinched slightly at her rudeness. "I don't know what the hell happened, but I don't care. Lighten up and start being your moody self. We love you just like that! Don't act so repented and shit! If you're sorry stop looking like a lost puppy and start doing something about it, you asshole!" Her voice was raising with madness and it was slightly off putting to see what used to be a stuttering lovestruck preteen talking to him like that.

Naruto snorted at that, obviously delighted for not being at the receiving end of her wrath for once. It was short-lived, however.

"And you!" She pointed at the blonde; then crossed her arms. He jumped back in fright. "What is this? How dare you even consider dying after you promised to be the best goddamned Hokage in history?! Here I am, rooting for you, while you lay around like a lazy pig with your edgy bro there. You should be ashamed of yourself!" She scoffed.

Naruto's mouth was so wide open he could have caught a fly. "Lazy pig? Are you kidding?!"

Sasuke raised an eyebrow, half amused, half annoyed. "Edgy?"

Suddenly, the edges of their vision began to blurr, like a genjutsu being unravelled. "Ah, someone came to help you at last." Sakura seemed relieved. Strangely so.

"Hey, Sakura-chan! You know what? You're right. I'll be the best damn Hokage ever, believe it! Just you watch!" He threw a punch to the air.

Seemingly placated and pleased with his answer, she nodded. "I know so." Then, she turned to her other teammate, who was concentrating solely on her face, mismatched eyes softened as they'll ever be. "And you'll make sure he doesn't mess up, right?"

They shared a long silence. There was something strange about Sakura aside her appearance. He could tell. "Hn. I will..."

"Hey! I don't need him watching over—"

"Sure you don't." He countered sarcastically.

"Also..." They turned to her again. "I'm sorry."

"Wha—" Naruto stuttered. "What the hell would you be sorry for, Sakura-chan?! If anything, it's the bastard here who should be apologizing to you!"

"Sakura..." Sasuke seemed to be searching for the right words, but she couldn't let them go without them listening to her. To what she needed them to know. There wasn't much time left after all.

"I'm sorry, because I wasn't what you needed..." She closed her eyes, her pretty minty orbs. Her appearance suddenly shifted, before then now standing her true self, still dressed in the standard shinobi uniform of the alliance. Her forehead protector lost to whoever knows where. "And thank you. You both made me stronger. You made me appreciate what I had. And I'll always, always love you. Our moments together like team seven... I'll treasure them for all eternity."

"Sakura-chan..."

"I know Konoha wasn't the best to you both, but don't forget the good... The wholesome moments. It's all that matters in the end... Our bonds, the bonds you managed to forge with sweat and blood... The world we live in, the world that gave me the chance to meet you. To me, that's to be cherished. Forever."

The white light started overwhelming the rest. Even Sakura's features started dissapearing.

"Live. Just live." For that, she specifically stared at Sasuke, a soft smile playing on her lips. "And thank you."

Sasuke started racing towards her, hand stretched, a forebonding understanding shaking his bones. "Sakura!"

And then, they both lost consciousness.

When they woke up, aside from feeling like shit, the first thing that crossed their minds what the finality of Sakura's words. Tsunade was beside them, patching them up, with Kakashi beside her, silently watching over them.

"About time, brats! What were you think—"

"Baa-san." Naruto interrupted her, his voice the most serious she had heard him until then.

"Where's Sakura?" Sasuke finished for him, his eyes icy and detached, trying to keep his worry at bay.

But she didn't need to answer. Her chakra flow hesitated, spiking with sorrow. Her eyes glistening with unbearable loss. Kakashi, at her side, stared, eyes widened in comprehension.

She was gone by a long shot.

And they were just finding out.

...

Everybody had different ways of dealing with loss. Naruto helped rebuild the village along with everyone else, but he skipped his usual meals, his ramen left forgotten in his kitchen counter. His movements when sparring were sloppy at best, not just because of the new prosthetic limb, but also because his mind was clearly somewhere else. Usually, Shikamaru would drag him out his makeship house, like he had done when Jiraija was gone for good. Sometimes, he would bring Ino with him, who was suspiciously skinny and messier than normal. No makeup covering the dark circles under her eyes.

Kakashi spent more than usual at the memorial stone every day, tracing the newly marked name of the girl who once remained him of Rin but that had come to claim a place for herself in his heart. Also, he took more missions than it was allowed in a month, going so far as to pick up his ANBU mask again, which caused an altercation with Tsunade, who hadn't been sober in a long time and had been hoping to hand the Hokage seat to him.

Sai avoided the color pink for a long time.

Sasuke... Well, he dealed with loss the same as everyone else... Longing for the missing person to be there, itching to have the opportunity to say what he couldn't at the time. Wanting to be alone whenever they would reach for him... And he built a tomb for her in hopes to find some closure. Not that official, because there wasn't a body to bury, and it had no name, but it was enough for him. He would bring with him camellias every day, buying them at the Yamanaka's, where Ino would always glance at him in silent understanding.

One morning, on his way to her tomb, he spotted a young shinobi leaving a white lilly for her. When he came by, the child spoke without a care, like they were acquaintances. "This is Sakura-san's, right?"

"Hn." It wasn't really an answer, but the child seemed to understand anyway.

"You know? Mama and big sister are also buried in these grounds... I always talk to them and tell them about my day and stuff I want them to know!" He turned to the Uchiha, a smirk on his cherubic face. "I'm sure she would appreciate it as well." And just like that, he left without another word.

Sasuke sat on the ground, just in front of the stone, mismatched eyes half lidded. Sensing no one in the vicinity, he exaled a shaky breath, and his dam opened up, the words longing to be said broke the silence he had been wrapping around himself since he knew of her death:

"I miss you... I've been missing you since I first left."

#naruto #sasusaku #team 7 #naruto uzumaki #kakashi hatake #sakura haruno #sasuke uchiha #tsunade senju #post war #fanfiction #sai #ino yamanaka #angst

[braceletofteeth]

I was tagged by @yohanisms, @sofarraway, and @onaiclockwork. It was nice discovering more things about you three! Thank you for remembering me 💙

Rules: Tag 9 people you’d like to get to know better!

Favorite color: Gray.

Currently reading: Story time! I traveled with a 2-in-1 book to my mother's house, to read during the holidays. It contained the first two books of The Mediator series. 12-year-old me thought the books were cool and I wanted to know why (my conclusion: me and her have very different tastes). I read the first, but not the second, and forgot the book there when I came home. It's on the other side of the country, and now, since I haven't read the second, I can't read the other four books of the series that I do have here :D

Should start something else. Really. There is about 40 different books here that I've never read. I feel too tired to start a new story though, so I'm currently just reading fanfics, with characters I'm already familiar with, whenever I find the time. The last one was All Along The Watchtower by memequeen1147 (and it was fun seeing Jongwoo being the one stalking Moonjo for once :D).

Last song: Hari – Gwiyomi Song (is playing at random as I reach this topic. The timing is horrible but hey. I've been listening to this song unironically for the last seven years. It hasn't annoyed me yet).

Last series: I haven't initiated anything voluntarily since I finished Bad And Crazy (I MISS THEM. Guess who cried watching the last making of!), but my brother is making me watch this karate show called Cobra Kai. I feel like punching all the characters presented to me, but, despite of that, everything is fun with my brother. Also, I've never seen any of The Karate Kid movies, but he told me it wasn't necessary to understand this sequel (and it really isn't, for what I've seen, but it feels like I'm breaking some unspoken rule).

Sweet, savoury, or spicy: Sweet >>>>> Savoury >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Spicy.

(Can you tell which one gave me minor death experiences not in one but in multiple occasions?).

Currently working on: My french. The dreadful green bird pecks me in the eye every day in order to make me take small steps ahead even when I don't feel like it. // My health. Tried to donate blood today, but the doctor there said I couldn't, so I better take care of myself if I want to go back to the regular donator status. // Trying to find time between fifth semester of college, fourth semester of university, and all the stuff I wanna do, like folding my clothes and finding parallels between Strangers From Hell and every other media in history.

Post the first GIF when searching your name:

Me and @scarefox were really excited about something SFH-related when this gif was used. I think it was about the prequel/spin-off (by the way, WHEN! WHEN, OCN??? WHEN!!!).

Favorite season: Unfortunately, where I'm from we only have two seasons. The one in which you get a taste of hell, and the one in which rains every day. The rainy weather makes it hard to get up but the heat makes it hard to think. I like the rain more.

Time to tag 9 people... @hwiyoungslesbiangf @loveforseo @smiley-wookie @jentonic @inhokki @bobafvcks @mangodelorean @anocturnaluniverse @softneomirotic

I usually try to pick people that might want to participate, but this time I prioritized the ones I've not known for long/don't know much about*, but enjoy seeing around. I just wanted to let the nine of you know you're appreciated, but go ahead and have fun doing it if you'd like to 💛

(*This doesn't apply to you, @softneomirotic, you're my longest friend here! I just like to tag you in everything and see you talking about the stuff you like 🥺 please understand).

#tag game #yes of course I know all the 6 steps of the gwiyomi song. #I can perform it in front of anyone. literally. anyone

[fanxyblog]

ALL IT TOOK WAS ME FALLING DOWN THE STAIRS ~ SIK-K

GIF IS NOT MINE CREDIT TO OWNER

Request: Can you write about minsik like a really big fight and silent treatment and somehow one of the two break and things are mended back together again

A/N : I'm sorry you had to wait for so long, but I've had some exams online and I've been quite occupied with online school. It's currently 1am as I'm posting it so I hope you all gonna like it.

Warnings: Cursing

Word Count: 865

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE I'M SORRY FOR THE MISTAKES

You and Misnik haven't spoken to each other for eight days. Whole eight days.

You felt terrible about it, even thought you two were living with one another, you were pretending that the other one didn't exist.

Everything due to the fight you two had past week. You two fighted a lot with each other over small things, but these fights were never as bad as the recent one. Just the memory of it made you feel like crying.

It all started innocently, Minsik have gone out with Coogie and Haon to the club and it wouldn't be a bad thing to you If it wasn't for the fact that you two were supposed to spend that evening together. Obviously it didn't happend and you came back to empty apartament.

You were dissapointed and mad. Hours were passing and Minsik wasn't coming back, it was 4 am when you heard door opening and some light curses.

Minsik came into living room completly unawear of your presence,and went straight to the kitchen counter. You were watching him carefully, he was stumbling slightly probably due to all the alcohol he had drunk that night, he was never good at drinking.

You felt overhelming anger, he prefered getting drunk with his friends than spending one evening with his girlfriend whom he hasn't seen in 5 days due to all the work both of you had.

" Where have you been !? " your scream have stratled Minsik so hard he had spilled all the water he had poured for himself.

"Oh my god baby, you scared me! Why aren't you sleeping? It's late, actually it's really early" he laughed and turned around to face you.

" Wow you are in a really good mood, aren't you? " your words were stern and full of sarcasm.

" Are you mad? Baby come on I'm sorry that I came home just now, I should have come earlier. Don't be mad please. "

" Don't be mad ? Don't be mad!!! Are you fucking kidding me Kwon Minsik !? We were supposed to spend yesterday's evening togheter but you prefered to go out with your friends and I've waited for you here like a dumbass" you weren't controlling your screams anymore, you had a lot of grief towards him.

" Oh come on Y/N ! Don't make such a big deal out of it, we can spend some time with each other some other time"

" You know what Minsik, I don't want to spend time with you anymore, not when I have to practiclly beg for it"

" Y/N... please. Stop being like that" he sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose

" Sleep well Minsik " you went to your bedroom and closed the door. Hot tears were running down your face as you were laying in your bed, all alone. It was strange sleeping without Minsik while he was at home.

Seven nights went like this, without Minsik sleeping next to you. It was hard for you, but you weren't the one that should apologize. He was, and you didn't want to talk to him till he did so.

Maybe you were exageretting this whole situation, maybe you were being immature, but you didn't care. He was the one at fault this time.

You were in the kitchen finishing mopping the floor and that was when you've had heard a loud bang followed by loud curses seconds later.

You runned out of kitchen immediately to see what happend, infront of you was Minsik laying on the floor at the bottom of stairs, a look full of pain evident on his face.

" Oh my god baby! Are you okay? " you runned up to Minsik and held his face in your hands as you looked over his body to check if everything was okay with him.

Minsik smiled widely and stopped you in your track. You looked at him confused.

"What?" You were dumbfounded and you absolutely forgot about the fact that you were mad at your boyfriend for the past week.

" Nothing, you called me baby" he was smiling like a fool and he didn't even care that every single bone in his body hurted.

"Does it mean you are not mad at me anymore?" his voice was full of hope and you couldn't say no to him.

"No, I'm not mad anymore just please don't be a dick to me and don't stand me up otherwise I'm going to break up with you" you thretened him with a pout on your face.

"I promise to be a better boyfriend from now on" he kissed you sweetly and rested his forehead on yours and laughed.

" Why are you laughing hmm?" You looked into his eyes with a small smile

"All it took was me falling down the stairs for us to make up"

" Well, you kind of deserved it" you teased him.

" I know. It was worth it thought" he kissed you again. You were happy that everything got back to normal even if it meant Minsik getting hurt a bit.

#khiphop imagine #khiphop oneshot #khiphop scenarios #khipkhop #h1ghermusic scenario #h1gher music imagines #h1ghrgang #h1gher music #h1ghrmusic #jay park #kwon minsik #khh #khh scenarios #khh imagines #korean hip hop #sikk #ph 1 #woodiegochild #aomg

[reinahwanggg]

I Miss You》 Park Jisung

credits to gif owner

pairing: jisung park x reader

word count: 1.9K

warnings: slight angst (not really)

genre: established relationship, idol au, fluff, slight angst, jisung being a caring boy, boyfriend!jisung, reader misses him, but doesn't wanna admit it

a/n: i envisioned myself in this position haha, sorry

"good night honeybee. i love you."

"good night angel! i love you always."

jisung sleepily replies, yawning into the phone, before he closed his eyes to be guided into slumber. although he knows comeback seasons does take a toll on his body, and sometimes mentality, he makes sure he calls you every night. whether it be to tell you he'll be in the dance studio until the next day, or before bed, he always tries to find time for you in his extremely busy schedule, especially since he is quite worried about you.

although it's been a few months since the entire debacle, he always wants to make sure you're safe and well. he knew that you didn't mind all of the sudden attention, and you didn't care about what everyone thought about you and him together, but sometimes he just wants to make sure you're okay.

it's obvious that he's the more vocal one in the relationship; always saying what's on his mind, telling you whenever he felt you should say or stop this, or whenever he felt angry about something petty and wanted to say it to get over it. he just has more experience in expressing his feelings to those close to him.

you, on the other hand, always kept everything bottled up inside, not necessarily saying anything, even when it bothers you, because you wouldn't want to be a bother to others, unless it ticked you off. you were always the one to express your anger for some complicated situations, but rarely to others. you find yourself as your own confidant, as your own provider, as your own push to help you through the tunnel of life.

the way you handle things, often than not, got you in some heated arguments with jisung. he just wants you to tell him when it's too much pressure. especially that day when the camera crew came in, setting a gazillion cameras inside your house, saying that the fans would love to see how you and jisung interact. he saw how uncomfortable it made you, and seeing as it's been two weeks, and you still jump when you walk in your sleepwear at 7am and see the camera following you, it's enough evidence.

yet, whenever he asks you, you brush it aside. ''i'll get used to it'' you'll always tell him, knowing fully well, you sometimes can't stand it. waking up, and pretending to be a youtuber making a get ready with me video, only for it to actually be posted, it ticks you off. yet, all you tell him is that you'll get used to it.

this situation, was no different. for the past three months, jisung has had activity after activity to go through, while trying to record content for this stupid youtube segment. most times it would split videos of him and you on the phone, laughing about some stupid meme you saw on twitter. you know, every single piece of your body misses your boyfriend; dying to be back in his arms, and snuggled with him on the couch, watching random TV shows while he randomly kisses your hair and pulls you closer.

you know that you miss him, and yearn for the day he comes and tells you that promotions are over and the frequent break in between has begun, but you don't tell him that. you don't tell him how much you miss waking up in the morning to see him dancing around the kitchen to a video of you singing one of his songs in the best voice you can muster, unintentionally burning the eggs on the stove.

you don't tell him how much you miss coming home from an interview with other artists, only to see him fixing his hair, humming puzzle piece, smiling goofily at the thought of you. you don't tell him how much you miss your rant sessions; him ranting about how close fans get sometimes, and you ranting about how much you wanna punch your coworker in the throat for her unbearably cocky attitude.

you don't tell him how much you miss last minute packing for a day trip to the other side of the country. you don't tell him how much you miss sulking on the couch, only for him to plant a million pecks and kisses on every corner of your face, until you smiled and playfully pushed him away.

before you knew it, you're sitting up in your bed, crying to yourself about how much you miss him. and for once, you want to let him know, desperately throwing away your pride and wanting him to know how much you ache for his presence, and his quirky habits, and his killer smile, and just everything he has to offer. you miss him so much, your cries get a little too loud, your breath gets a bit too heavy, and your body shakes a bit too much, but you don't care, you just miss him so much it physically hurts you.

the little lamp in the corner of your room shines a somber gold around the room, you oblivious to the fact that the cameras are on 24/7 and is catching this very moment, of your vulnerability. you are also oblivious to the fact that he didn't hang up the phone, him obviously being too tired to actually hover his finger, as he was out like a light, his little snores in the background evident to the entire thing.

"honeybee, i miss you so much. so much it hurts."

you start, your voice choked up, coming out cracked, and scratchy.

halfway through your rant, jisung wakes up, blinking a few times to himself, trying to adjust to the bright light amidst the dark room, the slightest sound of hiccups ring in his ear, an extremely nasally voice ringing out sobs and muffled words, and he automatically sits up in concern. he wants to immediately ask you what's wrong, but instead just listens to what you have to say.

"i miss how, every time you hug me, it feels like placing the last piece of the puzzle in its rightful place. honeybee i just miss how much you check up on me when i'm sick. how sometimes we take turns nightly to sing each other to sleep, you laughing when my voice cracks, or me teasing you with praises for a run you mastered. i miss playful mornings, both of us being too lazy to move, but somehow ending up dancing around the room to various artists and songs. i miss when i wake up, and you're already staring at me, the loving gaze in your eyes as you slightly smile, immediately going to plant a kiss on my big ass forehead. i miss pushing you away, and telling you to brush your teeth before you could give me a good morning kiss. i miss when you and the boys would all pile up in my house, and i would get to show you a bit of my country's cuisine, and laughing when you guys scarf it down like you haven't eaten in years. and i want to tell you all of this, but i don't want to be a burden to you. you already have a lot, with some overbearing fans, promotions, and the occasional run ins. i don't want you to focus on me only and put your feelings on the backburner like i always do. i wish i just had to courage to tell you all of this."

by the end of your rant, jisung has to wipe a few tears from his eyes, smiling sadly on the other end of the phone call, wanting to just pack his overnight bag and come to hold you, tell you that he misses you just as much, and scold you for keeping everything bottled up, like he always does.

he goes to check the time, 2:16 am it says, and he knows that he has to be up by 4am in any event, and he suddenly thanks literally everything for the sudden off day his boss gave them, because he knows for sure, after what you just confessed, he's going to surprise you. he hears some ruffling on the other side of the call, the sound of bedroom slippers hitting the tile floors, and a door opening and closing. he just hopes you're okay.

you, on the other hand, walks into your kitchen, quite starved after crying your heart out for what feels like all night, which in truth was about three hours. you flip the switch, your kitchen suddenly illuminated, and you put your hand in front of your eyes, the quick headache taking effect, and you blink repeatedly at the sudden light. you then smile, before going to your dishes, taking out your favorite bowl, and pouring some lucky charms to the brim of the bowl, before going in your refrigerator, and grabbing your milk, pouring it in as well, and grabbing a spoon.

you walk back towards the exit of the kitchen, towards the corridor that connected both the living room and the stairway in separate mazes together. suddenly flinching once you see the infamous moving camera, following you, and you roll your eyes. 'do they not need new batteries or something?' you thought to yourself, before walking upstairs to your room.

you look up at the camera on top of your vanity, and smile and tight lipped uncomfortable smile, before showing the big bowl of lucky charms and chuckling.

"cereal hits different at 2am after an emotional breakdown."

you say, chuckling once again, and happily eating your food, humming along to love again, as it plays inside your head, liking the way it sounds, and suddenly asking alexa to play it for you. it's not as loud as it would usually be, considering what time it is, and the fact that your neighbor just came back home from her long ass business trip (which you're lowkey suspicious of, because her boss came looking for her halfway through, saying if she didn't come in tomorrow then she'll be fired) and doesn't like k-pop for the life of her.

you rest your bowl by the foot of your bed, honestly too lazy to go back downstairs and place it back inside the sink. you then go to your phone, and open it, seeing as it was still on the book you were reading before jisung demanded for your attention, only to then fall asleep on you ten minutes later. you read until you notice the sun up, suddenly hearing my first and last playing around you. the doorbell ringing frequently, and you check the time.

9:48 am it reads, and you realize you read about 10 books in the span of seven hours. you shout that you'll be down in a minute and make sure jisung's hoodie is low enough, before placing your bedroom slippers back on and walking down the stairs, turning into the living room and left, towards the separate entryway (it's kind of a big ass house), opening the door, before tears blurred your vision, and you immediately scooped up from the floor, and spun around on your porch, inhaling the scent you missed for the past three months. quite happy that you were in jisung's embrace again.

you didn't question it one bit, in fact you didn't question anything, just told him to come inside and told alexa to play the song louder. coincidentally, it was Quiet Down, making both you and jisung laugh boisterously, before walking into the kitchen, and dancing to his songs, as you both made pancakes and gossiped about anything and everything, just like you missed and loved.

#park jisung #jisung #kpop fluff #kpop fanfiction #kpop imagines #nct imagines #nct dream #park jisung x reader #nct dream fanfiction #nct dream fanfic #jisung is caring and adorable wtf #jisung fluff #established relationship #jisung pwark #nct fanfic #nct fanfiction #nct jaemin #nct mark #nct #nct scenarios #nct fluff

[hjbender]

talk to us about thor's trauma(s)! how does he feel about his injured eye? what are the habits he developed/abandoned after iw? what words/sights/situations trigger his ptsd? (sorry if i'm annoying, you don't have to answer these if it's too much. i just love reading your headcanons😊)

Thank you, Anon! Thor’s trauma is a big point of interest for me and I’m always happy (ironically) to talk about it.

Thor has had a lot piled on him in an extremely short amount of time, hasn’t he? The past seven years of his one-and-a-half millennia life have been extremely action-packed, but the events that take place in just a matter of days end up having the profoundest effect on him. 

His father dies (or is murdered, pick your favorite version). He loses his hammer. Hela kills his friends, the Warriors Three. He is overpowered and enslaved on Sakaar, where he loses his locks and gets whaled on pretty thoroughly by the Hulk. Then Hela bends him backward over a balustrade and blasts out his eye, Ragnarok is triggered, Asgard is destroyed, presumably along with a great number of its people, and the survivors are all homeless. 

And this is before Thanos steps into the picture. Thor is literally having the worst week of his life.

I headcanon that Thor was already suffering from feelings of inadequacy when he finally became king. (Remember how awkward he seemed, taking the pilot’s chair throne? Big change from his cocky 2011 self.) It would be understandable; he’s now alone without his father’s guidance, he’s been disfigured, he’s still missing his hammer despite the revelation that his powers aren’t connected to it, and all of Asgard is looking to him to save their lives, find them a home, and make things right again. That’s a lot for a guy who freed himself from a very humbling enslavement just a few hours ago.

If Thor feels self-conscious about his eye, it’s a secret he keeps to himself. That’s what I like to think anyway. As if having his hair chopped off wasn’t enough of a cosmetic change, now he’s got a charred socket where his right eye used to be. He’s probably not feeling very handsome or confident now (even though he still is, of course he is, he’s Thor), and he probably struggles to recognize the face staring back at him in the mirror.

And then, just when it seems like things are looking up and they’re over the worst of it, Thanos drops in and utterly rips the rest of Thor’s life apart.

I strongly believe Thor was more concerned about evacuating his people than facing off with Thanos. He could have, and maybe he did, but he was obligated to act as a king this time, not a warrior, and getting his people to safety was more important. But he can’t save all of his people, and he certainly can’t save himself—or even those he loves.

The God of Thunder gets his ass handed to him. He takes a beating so hard that he can barely even raise his arm. He’s spewing blood, his eyes are rolling. When he speaks he sounds like he’s barely clinging to consciousness. All he can do is slap weakly at Thanos as he’s being lined up for slaughter.

For the first time in his long life, he tastes defeat at the hands of a stronger foe. Heimdall is killed in front of him. He is made to watch his brother die in a gruesome, horrifying way before being tossed aside like a sack of garbage. And when Thanos leaves, all Thor can do is crawl to Loki’s side, grasp his collar, and lie down to die beside him. 

This is his lowest point. (So far.) He’s given up, accepted defeat and death. He’s ready for it to end. There is nothing more he can do. So he chooses to die with Loki. With Heimdall. With his people. Isn’t that what a king and captain should do? Go down with his kingdom, his ship?

I think if the Guardians hadn’t literally bumped into him, Thor would have eventually died in the cold darkness of outer space and none of the Avengers would have known what became of him. That would have been the end of his story.

But he didn’t die. He lived. And now he wants to get even. 

Why he must get a new weapon after it was established in Ragnarok that he didn’t need a weapon doesn’t make sense. Bad writing, perhaps. Or maybe it’s just that Thor has been going to war with a weapon in his hand for so long that it’s now a habit he can’t shake. Mjölnir’s weight in his hand might have been a source of security and confidence to him. Maybe he’s not used to facing an enemy empty-handed. His powers weren’t very effective against Hela, were they? So maybe that shook his confidence a little (though it wasn’t his fault; Hela just needed to be defeated a different way). 

And since he’s going to challenge Thanos again, the being who has already bested him once before, Thor needs that confidence. Maybe he’ll feel better with a big motherhonking axe in his hand rather than nothing at all. Maybe it will help him concentrate his energy better, give him a way to channel it.

But even with all this, his new axe and his vengeance-fueled mission, he fails to stop Thanos. And half of all life in the universe is obliterated.

He, Thor, who of all the Avengers had the best chance of taking him out, did not get there in time.

This must seem like a horrible deja vu to him. Another failure. Another massacre. He could have prevented it. He had Thanos right where he wanted him, but he wasn’t quick enough, wasn’t smart enough, wasn’t good enough, and so on goes the self-flagellation in his mind. How could he have ever been worthy of anything in his life? If there is one thing I should have gotten right, it should have been this, he thinks.

In the aftermath, Thor goes through each stage of grief with excruciating helplessness. A crushing sense of guilt, failure, and impotence follows him like a shadow, never letting him forget. He probably goes through each day with you should have gone for the head playing over and over in his mind. Like Rocket says, he’s pissed. He doesn’t just think he’s failed. He knows he’s failed.

And when he finally gets a chance to face Thanos a third and final time, when at last he hacks the Titan’s head clean off his shoulders, it makes no difference. The damage that has been done cannot be undone. He is simply fulfilling his promise.

It’s understandable how after this, with nothing really solved, he would try to drown his negative feelings in alcohol and replace the good feelings he normally gets from helping people with comfort food, distracting hobbies, and friends who enable his downward spiral. If he can avoid thinking about the Bad Things, maybe he’ll forget in time. Only he doesn’t. He still remembers. Still carries the weight of his past. He is incapable of moving on. His life has come to a screeching halt, and now he is no good to anyone. Unworthy.

The name of Thanos, as we can see canonically, is a huge trigger. So powerful that everyone in New Asgard knows “we don’t say that name around here”. That’s probably not the only thing; Thor probably has an anxiety attack anytime someone snaps their fingers, although I don’t imagine that anyone would ever snap their fingers in jest after this. That once-innocent action now carries a grave context. Just the image of a hand with snapping fingers might become as abhorrent and reviled as the Nazi swastika. It’s a symbol that represents death.

...I suddenly forgot where I was going with this. Either that or my Think Good Brain Juice just ran out. But did I answer all of your questions, Anon? Did I headcanon hard enough? I hope so. I think this post ended up a big pile of Thor whump and nothing really new to add, but I hope you enjoyed it. And if you didn’t, at least you got to look at some nice angsty Thor gifs for a while, right?

#ask bender #thor meta #thor odinson #thoredit #thanos #loki #heimdall #thor whump #loki’s death #ragnarokedit #iwedit #ptsd #depression #trauma #angst #alcoholism #self-confidence #after the snap #headcanons #opinions and interpretations #hjbendergifs #marveledit #mcuedit #mcu #thor gifs #avengers endgame #avengers infinity war #thor ragnarok #i love thor

[thatonegirljessy99]

Gongjunim (1/2)

Summary: You fall for Yoongi. Only problem? Your Namjoon’s little sister. Oops lol

Requested?: Yes! By @soulpunker58

Word count: +3.2K

Warning:Teasing, Fluff??

A/N: I AM SO APRRY I HAVEN'T POSTED ANY WRITING! I'VE HAD MAJOR WRITERS BLOCK BUT I PROMISE THE NEXT PART OF LONGING TO FEEL LOVE IS COMING THIS WEEK! I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS! Also, credit to whoever created this gif. Sorry I don't know who made it. Anyways enjoy!

He had your mind spinning as he cupped your cheek sweetly and kissed you softly under the tree outside your house. His lips were so soft making butterflies burst into a frenzy in your stomach.

“I love you so much princess...”

“Oppa... I was so scared you wouldn’t feel the same way and I would make things...”

“Weird?”

“Yeah,” a giggle escaped your lips as you looked up at his grinning face before turning towards the darkness of the night hearing something.

“Y/N!”

“Present!” you scream standing up before being pulled back down to your seat.

The class busted into laughter as you looked around embarrassed, biting your lip awkwardly as your best friend sighed behind you.

‘Second time this week… fuck’

“I know Miss Kim, nice of you to remind me that. But I was asking if you could solve the problem on the board. If you aren’t paying attention I can always deduct participation p-“

Before the professor could even finish his sentence, your eyes were already scanning the board to analyze the problem and solve it faster than what most students could in the class.

‘Deduct participation points my ass’

“5i over 7 minus 4i would have the top and bottom multiplied by 7 plus 4i leaving the new equation for the denominator to be 49 plus 28i minus 28i plus 16. Once simplifying the denominator, you would have 35i minus 20 over 65 which would turn into 35i over 65 minus 20 over 65. So, you final answer in standard form would be negative 4 over 13 plus 7 over 13i.”

The class fell silent as they looked at your professor work out the problem on the board only to find you were right, as per usual. You were the youngest person in the class, math having always been your strong suite, and you were the only student that was known to have to switch classes when it came to math. Normally it would just be the teachers switching classes, but you had to go up stairs to the advance senior classes when it came time. Currently you were taking college algebra with a professor that loved to call out anyone he thought wasn’t paying attention. Which was you most of the time, but that is not the point right now.

“That is correct… please just look at the board next time Miss Kim. Or at the very least please take notes,” the older man sighed going back to teaching his lesson to the rest of the class.

-

“You are by far the biggest queen of bullshit I have ever met in the history of this school,” Sunny laughed as you guys walked out of the class and headed to the lunch room,” You were so far gone and yet you were able to make him shut up for the second time this week. I think you could set a school record for how many times you just bullshit your way through class. Now tell me what you keep day dreaming about. And I will not except anything less than the full story.”

“Honestly, it's some cheesy shit that you would see on one of out dramas. It’s me outside of my house with some guy that calls me-”

“Princess! Hey! How's my favorite girl?” a voice from behind you called out before you felt a long arm wrap around your waist to pull you close to his side.

A chill ran down your spine when you looked up to be met with that signature gummy bear smile that made your heart melt in a second. By now you would think you would be use to it from how often you saw this smile, but nope!

“Oppa! Aish! Stop it! Your being embarrassing!” you blushed pulling away from your brothers' best friend.

You’re not sure when your little school girl crush started for him but sometime during middle school you started to feel your cheeks heat up whenever the tall boy looked at you for too long or gave you a compliment out of the blue. Which for you came more often that you needed it to. Especially around a certain someone you should be blushing around.

“Tch, why do you have to be so mean to oppa. I’ve called you that since you were a baby,” Yoongi smirked letting go of you and bowed towards your best friend,” I remember calling that loser Bambi from how much she tripped in dance class.”

Sunny rolled her eyes and pulled Yoongi down to her height by the ear as she glared into his soul. In hindsight Yoongi would be smart enough to know not to say something like that to a girl like Sunny. But of course, he wasn’t, and now you were here.

“Mmm, don’t forget lover boy, I might be short but I’m still your senior one year and am top of the dance department on the girls end. So! Unless you’re my Hope, don’t ever fucking bring up my dancing again, got it Min Yoongi!” Sunny practically hissed through her forced smile at the cold face of Yoongi who was trying his best to not show exactly how scared or in pain he was.

Normally you would have understood if someone would have said that she was over reacting, but as students at the Conservatory for the Fine Arts of Seoul, Sunny had earned the right to be snippy with anyone that had something to say about her dancing. Just to get into this school was mission impossible but to stay in the school was a whole other level of stress. All the students here were considered the future of their industries respectively. Sunny was number one in the girl's department of dance, number two in the whole department. But that changed every other term since she and Hoseok interchanged spots whenever testing came around.

But the friendly competition didn’t hurt their relationship. Only Yoongi who didn’t know when to shut his mouth.

“Hey! Hands off the best friend,” your brothers voice boomed from behind the three of us as we got to the lunch line making me grown just from pure instinct.

Oh look, that person you definitely should not be blushing around!

“Oh, calm down, he can still use his other ear to hear his voice crack mid-way through a song,” she smirked letting go of Yoongi's ear finally.

Seeing Yoongi get ready to say something to her, your hand went to his wrist catching his attention as you smiled shyly at him making his cheeks flush before looking away as he rubbed his ear and walked over to your brother.

“Mmm, if only you could see how whipped you have him. I don’t think I have J-Hope wrapped that tightly around my pinky,” Sunny snickered in a low voice handing you a tray before starting to serve herself some food,” imagine if Rap Monster found out that his little sister had his best friend completely brainwashed.”

“Shut up.. It's not like that between us. I’ve known him before either of us got into the conservatory. He’s like a brother to me,” you started, feeling your cheeks begin to flush as you scooped rice into your bowl and covering it with chicken curry.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Save that for someone who believes it,” Sunny chuckled waving off your denial as she turned to smile at you,” but no one would ever believe either of you if they saw you two together, ma cherry.”

A deep sigh escaped you lips as you looked at your friend with a smile of pure amusement.

“Ma chérie... please remind me never to practice my French on you,” you laughed wrapping an arm around your best friend as you two walked to your usual round table.

As you two sat down you were quickly joined by Hoseok and Yoongi, both of them having two soda cans on their trays. Of course, then being followed by Namjoon who sat between Sunny and Yoongi.

“So how are my favorite girls?” Hoseok grinned as he placed a soda can down in front of Sunny, pecking her lips sweetly before taking a seat and winking at you.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t start flirting on my girl in front of me,” Sunny glared playfully at the bunny faced boy, elbowing him softly before beginning to eat the kimchi she had served herself too much of on purpose.

“Can both of you losers not hit on my little sister, please? I don’t need her being corrupted by you two weirdos,” Namjoon rolled his eyes while taking a long drink, Yoongi looking at you kindly before handing you the extra soda can he had brought to the table.

Smiling at Yoongi, you took the can and opened it before giving a side glance at Namjoon. It was not the first time he had made this type of comment, nor would it be the last as far as everyone could tell. To Namjoon you were still that 6th grader that was auditioning to get into the same school as him. You are the girl that goes from school straight to your house and practiced and did your homework and you have only one friend. Or at least that was probably what he thought as since he didn’t know about the times you went out to a few house parties here and there.

“Wow, you got her a drink and not me?” your brothers voice snapped you out of your small trance you had not noticed you had fallen into.

“Aish, Namjoon! Leave him alone. He’s just being nice. Unlike you, Yoongi actually cares about your little sister. You should be nicer to her. Poor thing is going to die single if your keep being such a helicopter parent,” Sunny snorted feeding Hoseok who nodded as he chewed through his mouth full of kimchi.

“Mm thanks for that kind reminder of my lonely impending death,” you grumbled getting a spoonful of rice and curry into your mouth.

Yoongi chuckled rubbing your back as you slouched forward not wanting to talk about your relationship statue. Or lack thereof relationship.

-

The rest of the day went by as ordinarily as it got. You went to your music classes, vocal performance, music theory, piano practice, dance practice, and your advanced classes, later waiting at the front gate to go home with Namjoon.

By now it was seven in the afternoon, many students still being inside studying and doing class work. It was a long school day but that was the price all of you were willing to pay in order to be the best of the best. After all, there was a reason why you had chosen to sell out your childhood for a shot at being a star.

As you waited, leaning against the wall, you couldn’t help but groan when you over heard a small group of girls that was in your dance class gossiping and giggling as they walked past you on their way home. All you could hear them talking about was the new kid in your class, Jungkook. Or as all the girls had begun to call him, Kookie. Why? Because “that Kookie could be my snack.” Gross. So fucking gross. Yeah sure he was a pretty good dancer, and your new partner for this first quarter, but it never ceased to disgust you how quickly girls in her class could fall for a guy just for his looks.

From: RM

Forgot to tell you I had a study group after school. You can head home or come to the library if you want to wait for me

Looking down at your phone as it went off, you quickly typed an answer just so he knew you had seen his message before letting a small sigh escaping your lips.

You start making your way down the street towards your shared apartment a few blocks down from the school looking up at the sky. It was funny to you how you basically never got to see the sun during the week anymore. Well you and all of the other student that lived in your district. Many of the students from the conservatory lived within the same area because the school didn’t provide dorms and many of the students came from many different parts of South Korea just to be a part of this place.

As you made your way up the stairs that lead to your building you noticed some fluffy mint locks that had been the result of someone buying the wrong hair dye and a blue and yellow jacket you were used to seeing in your house.

“Yo, yo, yo, Agust D,” your yelled running up to Yoongi and bumping him with your shoulder playfully making the guy readjust his glasses, "What up homie?”

Realizing who it was and what you had just said, Yoongi's face looked pained as he laughed and turned to look at you in amusement. After seeing you do this some many times you would think that he would be used to this cringy act but he was pretty sure he would never stop dying inside when you tried to act like what you thought a rapper acted like.

“Gongjunim, how about we make deal and you never do that ever again,” he laughed shaking your hair with his hand to mess with your hair, knowing you would just swat your hand at him to stop.

“Aw, but I’m just trying to be as cool as Agust D,” You chuckled fixing your bag on your shoulder before getting it taken from you by Yoongi as you two walked side by side up the road.

“You know I hate being called that right?” he asked giving you a side smile as he rolled his eyes,” if you're going to call me anything other than my name call me Suga. You know I like that a lot more when you call me Suga.”

“But all the girls at school call you it. ‘Oh, Agust D is so cute’ ‘no he’s sexy’ ‘have you seen his body roll, I literally die’. Oh, and my absolute favorite ‘have you heard his voice? I bet he could say some nasty things while he makes me forget my name',” you said mimicking the girls you had hear saying throughout the school on a normal basis.

“Oh, come on gongjunim. You know I wouldn’t have eyes for any of those girls. They love Agust D, I want someone who loves Yoongi,” he chuckled looking up to the sky only to feel a water droplet fall on his now,” hey why don’t we go into my house and you can have a drink with me.”

“Fine but let me just text Namjoon that I’m going to be out.”

“Mmm was he expecting you home?”

Shaking your head, no you two began to run up the rest of the stairs where there was a small building entry as rain began to pour over you. Quickly rushing into his living room as soon as he opened the front door, you both laughed at how soaked you had gotten in the short span of time and how both of you now looked like a mess. It wasn‘t the first time you two got caught in the rain but it had been a while so the feeling of running through it together brought back old memories of when you were both younger.

“How long has it been since we danced in the rain?” his voice chimed as he looked at the door and then back at you with a soft smile.

“Remember the dance from Trouble Maker I did for my audition?” You asked leaning back against the wall.

“Yeah, that was three years ago.”

“That was the last time I danced in the rain,” you mused looking down at the water spots on your shirt from running through the rain,” I have to dance it again with some guy from my performance class in two weeks.“

“Some guy? I heard that you got partnered up with Jungkook-“

“Please don’t remind me. Every girl is crazy about him in my year and we’re all two years older than him,” You groaned rolling your eyes before looking over at Yoongi,” Don’t you just love how the conservatory has high school and college students all in the same place.“

“You know they do it based on your level. And you only have one year left before you get to audition in front of all the companies and pray that you make it big, but until you get to join me on stage lets change into some dry clothing before you get sick in that outfit,” he chuckled placing a hand on the small of your back, leading you back to his bedroom.

“Shhh, what your brother doesn‘t know won’t kill him princess,” a smooth voice cooed into your ear as you giggled nodding.

His hands had been all over you as you two danced against each other and now he was leading you back to another room. It wasn‘t long before you got inside the room that your back was slammed against the wall, his lips on your neck, your hand in his hair. He was like a damn drug and you couldn’t seem to get enough.

“How the hell is it that you act like a child when I change in front of you, but I have never seen you bat an eye when those girls from your year flirt with you wearing practically nothing,” you smirk leaning against Yoomgi after downing your shot of soju.

You two had gone through three bottles of sake by now and you had gone from sitting across from Yoongi to almost sitting on his lap from how close you two were. Yoongi's arm was around your shoulder as he chuckles and shakes his head putting a finger your chin to make you look up at him.

“Damn you and that stupid smile,” he chuckled causing you pout as his smile widened at you.

“Y/N, you’re always dressing so cute to school, how am I supposed to see you as anything other than pure,” he teased poking the tip of your nose only making you frown.

“I’m not pure oppa... In fact, I can show you exactly how much I have changed since we were kids,” you whisper as you straddle his lap and moved his hands to your hips,” those dance classes are good for more than just dancing on stage.”

Biting his lip, Yoongi can’t help but check you out as you begin to move against him, grinding your hips onto him only causing his hands to begin to explore under the oversized shirt you had on.

“You’re my best friends' little sister... this is so wrong,” Yoongi hummed closing his eyes as you begin to kiss his neck, making him groan slightly as he felt your teeth graze the skin right below his ear and then pull on his earlobe.

“You’re not stopping me...” your voice cooed into his ear before a knock on the door interrupted your moment.

“Yoongi! Y/A-ah! It’s pouring out here! Let me in!”

“But that is...”

#suga x reader #yoongi x reader #bts #bts suga #bts yoongi #min yoongi #suga #thatonegirljessy #y/n x suga #yoongi #y/n x yoongi #Gongjunim

[joannalannister]

I've seen you reblogging Jon/Dany stuff and I'm curious how likely you think that level of love/romance would be in the coming canon. Even putting aside whatever state Jon is going to be in post-resurrection, I'm not sure their past relationships suggest that each would be the other's type for instant attraction, and I don't know if they'd have time to develop much of a relationship what with the oncoming winter apocalypse. Or is it just a ship people like the idea of but don't expect?

Oh no, I don’t think the all-American, crewcut, boy-next-door Jon Snow we’ve seen in AGOT - ADWD is Dany’s type for instant attraction at all! 

Dany’s the type who likes rockstars with wild hair, and the power and danger of a big ol’ Harley-Davidson between her legs. She’s looking for a maverick fighter pilot from Top Gun to ride one of her dragons.  She wants a rebel with a cause, not a lost, grieving boy. I don’t think the Jon Snow we know is the type of guy Dany’s looking for!

But Jon Snow died. ;)

In the words of the King, “The person you put up there ain’t the person that comes back. It might look like that person, but it ain’t that person” (Pet Semetary). “Resurrection… ah, there’s a word (that you should put right the fuck out of your mind and you know it).”

GRRM has said that “Death is hard.” It changes a person. Look at the Lightning Lord. Look at Lady Stoneheart. They remember, but they’re not the same people anymore. I think Jon Snow, after spending some time in Ghost, is going to come back wilder. More reckless, more dangerous, more … rockstar. So I think Dany will find Jon very attractive. 

(from Jesus Christ Superstar) 

(Will TWOW please come out soon, because my ASOIAF / pop culture analogies are getting wilder and wilder.) 

So anyways, you can’t just “put aside” Dragonriding Rockstar Jesus Jon Snow and his Resurrection, or his Freefolk Groupies on the tv show, or his tv manbun when considering the potential for Jon/Dany. The resurrection – and the change it will bring – is a big reason why I think Jon/Dany has potential.

So how likely do I think there will be love/romance between Jon/Dany in canon? I’m certain of it. I think Jon and Dany will grow very close as they fight together to save the world, and I think that’s a beautiful thing. I’ll wager money on Jon/Dany falling in love in the books before the end of ADOS; any takers? First come, first served. 

I’m not saying there won’t be issues Jon and Dany need to work out, or that they’re just gonna say “Hi” before asking each other to winter prom so they can bang on the backseat of a dragon. 

I’m not sure their first meeting will go smoothly, or end well.

I don’t know the lay of the land for this journey GRRM is going to take us on. 

But I feel very strongly that our destination is Jon and Dany being in love before the books end. I don’t care how cliched, how trope-y anybody says it is; GRRM loves this trope-y, cliched fantasy shit. (I love it too.)

Do you remember Vaes Tolorro? Dany ate a peach in ruins bleached bone-white by the sun. The juice stained her cheeks as she ate, “so sweet she almost cried.” Vaes Tolorro is one of my favorite places in ASOIAF. It was cut from the tv show, because it wasn’t significant to the plot. 

It’s thematic significance is paramount, however. Vaes Tolorro is about life. It’s hope, in the midst of rack and ruin. It’s about standing in the shade of one of those white buildings and looking out at that sun-drenched Red Waste, at that endless sea of death stretching from horizon to horizon, and saying, “Not today. Not to-fucking-day.” It’s a glorious city, even in ruins. It’s defiant. As glorious and defiant as Casterly Rock in its own way, and I can speak no higher praise. 

“From the ashes a fire shall be woken, A light from the shadows shall spring” and all that jazz about hope and life and rebirth. 

To steal the words of Robert Jordan, “Almost dead yesterday, maybe dead tomorrow, but alive, gloriously alive, today.” 

That’s what Vaes Tolorro is all about. 

That’s part of what ASOIAF is all about: “I’m alive. I’m still here, I’m up against the impossible and I’m still trying, I’m still breathing, I’m still standing, and you’re not going to treat me that way anymore. My life has meaning, my life is valuable, and you’re not going to treat me like a kicked dog. I’m alive. I’m a human being. And don’t you forget it. Because I will prevail.” Whether the “you” is a man as small as Randyll Tarly or a force as big as the Others, it doesn’t matter. To each and every one of them, what do we say? 

Not today, motherfucker.

That’s what GRRM is saying when he writes paragraph-long descriptions of food that make your mouth water, and songs to make your heart ache, and yes, love and sex. 

Every morsel the characters eat, every voice lifted in song to ask the Gentle Mother for mercy, every “often and unpredictable” kiss … it’s a celebration of life. 

And every celebration of life is an act of defiance against the Others who would destroy all life on Terros. Every kindness, every act to humanize one another … it’s a bulwark against the Others. Every time the Tywins and Tarlys and Boltons of the world work to dehumanize another person, they’re aiding the enemy. They’re traitors to life itself. 

(I could go on and on about this “celebration of life” for every story GRRM has written, but I’m restraining myself.) 

I don’t know what Jon and Dany (and Tyrion) need to do beyond the curtain of light to save the world. But I don’t think it’s something as simple as “We have to put this obsidian rock on the crystal throne” or something like that. I think whatever they have to do will be something more thematically important, something that is a celebration of humanity. 

When they go beyond the curtain of light, Jon/Dany is Vaes Tolorro. They’re an oasis of life, surrounded by death in the stronghold of the Others. Intimacy between them is the most life-affirming thing they could do, and that’s what the series is all about. 

I’m not saying Jon and Dany are gonna fuck to save the world but … I think Jon and Dany are gonna fuck to save the world. Or at least that’s going to be part of it. I’m not even particularly emotionally invested in this ship (where are the Lannisters?), but a Jon/Dany romance is simply the logical conclusion imo. 

“A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness… .”

“We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.”

I think Jon/Dany is something glorious, something transcendent, but it’s also something sad imo, because I think they’ll die doing whatever they have to do. 

(Also Tyrion needs to learn to love himself and forgive himself, and I think that’s also a part of saving the world, but that’s not what this post is about.)

******

You mention that you don’t think there’s enough time, but I have a couple things to say to that:

1) GRRM can build a whole world in two paragraphs. Despite the verbosity of ASOIAF, he can tell a whole complete, emotionally-satisfying story in 10 pages. Give him one Dany chapter, and I think we’re good to go.

2) I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I think the place beyond the curtain of light is like the Fairy Realm and we don’t know the rules of such a place. Does time flow faster or slower there? Does time have any meaning at all there? We don’t know. If precisely nine months have to pass “under the Fairy Hill” while 9 minutes pass battling wights at Winterfell to make whatever needs to happen happen, then that’s what GRRM is gonna do. *shrug* We don’t know the rules. The rules of such a place are whatever GRRM will make them.

So I would say that there’s however much time GRRM needs to tell Jon and Dany’s story. 

As I’ve said elsewhere, I think the Iron Throne is going to be melted down, I think Jon and Dany are both going to die while saving the world (I will put money down on Dany dying, at the very least), and I think the Seven Kingdoms are going to break apart into separate kingdoms.

So I don’t think we need to worry about the “Afterward” for a Jon/Dany romance. It’s like if Frodo died in the lava when Barad-dûr collapsed in the movies. idk how it will play out tho in ASOIAF. Maybe after the “Fairy Hill” of the Others’ “collapses” for lack of a better term about what’s going to happen there, it spits mortally wounded Jon, Dany, and Tyrion out at a place of power, like the God’s Eye, idk, maybe it will be like GRRM’s Laren Dorr story. Anyways, maybe nine months have passed in the “Fairy Hill” while only a day has passed in Westeros, and Dany gives birth to a child before dying? Really, I don’t know, this is just me throwing wild suggestions out there. If GRRM really does make them have a kid, I definitely think both Jon and Dany are dying, but I’m really not sure if there is a Jon/Dany child in store in ASOIAF. 

I feel certain that Jon, Dany, and their potential kiddos are not going to be ruling Westeros in endgame. (I’ll put money on that one too. I’m gonna be rich as a Lannister if anybody wants to take me up here.) Any cute Jon/Dany+kids art/gifs I reblog is purely because I think it looks like a sweet and fluffy AU totally unlike anything GRRM will do. I really, really don’t think we’re ever gonna see any Jon/Dany family time, either together or one of them as a single-parent. (That’s what fanfic is for, friends.)

******

I could use this space to make a list and give you quotes to “prove” that “Jon likes THIS quality in a woman and THIS quality and THIS one” and then I could give you quotes proving how Dany possesses those qualities

but

1) I honestly don’t care. I’m mostly here for ASOIAF themes, and when I shake my magic 8-ball of ASOIAF themes and ask it, “Will Jon and Dany fall in love and bang?” it returns an answer of “Outlook Good.” 

2) GRRM is gonna change Jon to fit this, whether it’s the resurrection, or spending 40 days and nights in the deserts of Dorne, or whatever the fuck else is happening in twow

3) Jon’s headspace is not one I prefer to spend time in.

4) plenty of other people have probably already made such a list. (Feel free to link me, people!) Lots of people are way more emotionally invested in Jon/Dany, so if such a list isn’t already out there, I’m sure someone will write it. 

What I will use this space for is to mention GRRM’s short story The Way of Cross and Dragon. Because GRRM literally wrote and published a Bible AU with dragons and Judas in love with Jesus, let’s not forget that while considering Jon/Dany and the betrayal for love, I’m not even joking.

because Judas had loved Him so, Christ gave him a boon, an extended life […]. Once Dragon-King, once the friend of Christ, now he became only a blind traveler, outcast and friendless, wandering all the cold roads of the earth […] 

And Peter, the first Pope and ever his enemy, spread far and wide the tale of how Judas had sold Christ for thirty pieces of silver, until Judas dared not even use his true name. […] 

Christ promised that He would permit a few to remember who and what Judas had been, and that with the passage of centuries the news would spread, until finally Peter’s Lie was displaced and forgotten.

GRRM says he is a “recycler” of stories, and I’m interested to see what GRRM is going to do with Jon/Dany. I like the idea of it, and I’m totally expecting it to become canon during the apocalypse.

tbh this makes me sound more interested than I am, when in reality it’s like, I’m interested in Jon/Dany simply because I’m interested in the ending of ASOIAF. Because “Jon/Dany” and “ending” are synonymous in my mind. 

But I would literally forgo ADOS in exchange for more information about Casterly Rock and House Lannister. (A large amount of information, but still.) House Lannister for life, what can I say?

#someone give me ASOIAF: The Musical #a traditionally animated version #charlie dance can sing ''Be Prepared'' from Lion King; i wont mind #mzyraj #replies #lannister thoughts #jon x dany #dany x jon #vaes tolorro #the meaning of asoiaf #istg if wankers find this post i will block everyone #i honestly don't care about anyone else's opinion here #and this is like a posted no trespassing sign: ''i am not asking for anyone else's opinion here'' #jon snow #daenerys targaryen #endgame #the war for the dawn #the way of cross and dragon #jdmeta