#what would the seven second summer song be

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Eisteddfod Chairs: Pick Your Winner!

It's almost June! Nearly time to reveal the 2023 Chair! So come, gather round Tumblrs, let me tell you of the furniture-based customs of my people

So Wales has been celebrating Eisteddfodau (festivals of poetry, music, and disco dancing), in some form or another, since at least the 1100s, when Lord Rhys of Dinefwr had one all formal-like and made it into a big fun party and that. The word basically means 'sitting place', and probably refers to the way people in summer would gather round the twmpath in the village to listen to bards that passed through and drink mead and shout 'hurrah!' a lot. Amazingly, this is not where the Chair Thing comes from.

Part of Welsh history is the Bardic Age, and it was custom for bards to travel the country and visit the courts of assorted gentry types (also normal people's houses and taverns and twmpaths but let's stay on topic) and play for them. If the lord paid well, great; if not, the bard would write a Super Mean Song about them and sing it everywhere, so they were pretty well treated.

But if they were particularly good, rather than making them play for the WHOLE meal, the lord would offer them a chair at the table to join in the feast as a guest, rather than a worker, and THAT is where the Chair Thing comes from.

Anyway that's preamble to say that every year in the biggest Eisteddfod of all - the Eisteddfod Genedlaethol - the highest honour awarded goes to the Prifardd - the bard who writes the winning cywydd (super complex Welsh poetry WE DON'T HAVE TIME TO EXPLAIN ALL OF THIS). And the prize for writing the winning cywydd is that you are awarded, you guessed it, the Chair.

Now these Chairs (capital C, please, we like a bit of Fantasy Novel Capitalisation and for this cultural reason I will never understand people who complain about it) are unique. They are thrones. They are carved each year by one chosen carpenter, who crafts a one-of-a-kind Chair with symbolism and that, never to be replicated. They usually have the year carved on, but otherwise, they vary wildly in aesthetic and symbolism. In a No Award year (because Eisteddfod judges don't subscribe to the Western idea that there HAS to be a first, second and third place; if no one is good enough there is no award, and I have seen choir competitions for seven year olds where there was no first or third place but there were two choirs in joint second), the Chair is sent back to the carpenter who carved it, and they get to keep it. In a year where the bard died before the ceremony, it is draped in black, and given to next of kin.

(That has only happened once. RIP Hedd Wyn, 1887-1917. Also the only reproduced Chair; the original, known as the Gadair Ddu (the Black Chair) is on display in his family home, but a 3D printed replica has been made for display by Amgueddfa Cymru)

BUT THEREFORE a big part of Eisteddfod fun is seeing what the Chair will look like this year. Traditional ones, see, we tend to think look like variants of this:

(Apologies for the substandard attempts at alt-text; I have no clue how to describe these properly)

This one is from 1896. The phrase "Y gwir yn erbyn y byd" means "The truth against the world", and was included in a lot of old ones. Modern ones tend to incorporate the druidic symbol for awen ("poetic inspriation") instead. Some of these incidentally turn up in lil' chapels and that about the country.

But actually even the old ones were mad different, look; clockwise from top left, these are y Gadair Ddu (1917), 1876, 1926 (when the carpenter was Chinese and enjoyed the cultural fusion), and 1908.

Still the same theme, though, but in the modern day the carpenters are all off the shits! They're all over the place! Fuck the rules! And I have Opinions.

Category: I See What You Did There

SYMBOLISM!!! 2011 is a pit wheel from Wrexham's mining past! 2013 is the head of a harp, from Denbighshire's cultural harp-making past! 2017 is fish, from Anglesey's maritime present! Fantastic. Love it.

Best in category: 2017. Why does Anglesey's have so many eyes on the fish? We don't know. Wylfa B protestors reportedly furious.

Category: The Modern Throne

TALL!!! That silhouette! That height!! They have the range, darling! Christ knows 2016 doesn't have anything else going for it! Shout out to the Conwy river on 2019, the different woods from the forests of Maldwyn for 2015, and the red kite symbolism for Ceredigion in 2022 (the spiritual home of the bird, where the species was first saved).

Best in category: 2019, Conwy. I like the bridge and the river lines and the water effect on the front of the seat it's just so pretty.

Category: That's Just A Chair

(I am actually friends with the Prifardd who won 2018 at the bottom there :D )

WHAT ARE RULES WE JUST WANT FUNCTIONAL CHAIRS. Man even so 2014 was fucking ugly. You could have 2018 in your house. Around your table, like. Even 2012 has a sort of IKEA vibe that's boring but palatable. 2014 is only coming in the house under sufferance.

Best in Category: 2018, easy, and not just because it's the one I'm most likely to get to sit in one day. It's pretty.

Category: NO GODS NO CHAIRS NO MASTERS

WHAT

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED IN 2010

BRO I DO NOT THINK YOU TRIED

Best in Category: OBVIOUSLY 2021 I COULD PHYSICALLY MAKE 2010 MYSELF

#wales! #closed for cleaning on mondays #long post

[maidragoste]

The Parent Trap: Chapter Two

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: After the disastrous divorce between Aemond Targaryen and Y/n Velaryon the twins Baelon and Aemon were separated. Each was raised by one of their parents. Baelon was raised by his father while Aemon was raised by his mother. Years later they both meet at a summer camp and discover the existence of the other. The twins realize that there are many secrets in their family, eager to discover their past, they put together a plan to deceive their parents.

Masterlist

Thank you for your support, I was nervous that people wouldn't like it because the fic wasn't the same as the movie so I'm very happy to read all your comments. REBLOGS, comments and likes are always appreciated 🥰🥰💕💕💕

Btw, I made two playlists for this fic. One is from Aemond and the Reader and another is from Reader and Aegon. As I keep writing I'll probably add more songs or even delete some, who knows. If you have songs for me to add or are curious to know why, you are welcome to write to me in my inbox.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

Ten years earlier

Your leg kept moving up and down. Your eyes are constantly directed to the door, expecting that at any moment Aemond would return home. You tried to distract yourself by watching TV but you were too anxious. Your mind couldn't focus on the stupid movie because all you could think about was the positive sign on the pregnancy tests you had taken that afternoon with Rhaena and Jace by your side. You regretted telling them to leave. If they were with you they would be preventing you from locking yourself in your own mind. They would make you tell them your fears and they would try to calm you down. The three of them would be making plans. You might even be practicing with Jace how the hell tell Aemond they were going to be parents.

You and Aemond would be parents. You would be a mother. You always knew you would have children, you wanted the happily ever after with the wedding and children like they always showed in the movies, but now you are terrified. It wasn't supposed to be like this. You're barely twenty-three years old, you haven't even finished your second year of editorial editing. It was assumed that when you had children you would be at least over twenty-seven, your career—a career you were truly passionate about—would be finished, you would have a good job, and you would be married. You tried to console yourself by telling yourself that at least you're in a stable relationship. You and Aemond have been dating for three years. You two knew each other since you were little because your godmother is Aemond's older sister and then you ended up attending the same school so you spent a lot of time together. You still remember like it was yesterday how nervous you were when you first kissed Aemond during New Year's. You were afraid of ruining your friendship and that things would become awkward but he didn't pull away when you kissed him he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him. That night they hid from everyone and spent the rest of the celebration kissing. The next day they started dating. From there everything was wonderful. Like any couple, you and Aemond have your run-ins—like when you argued because you didn't like the way he behaved with Jace, your best friend, or when Aemond got mad at you because you made the two of you leave the restaurant you were having a date at. to pick up a drunk Aegon in a bar again—but there was definitely more joy than displeasure in your relationship with Aemond. You saw yourself having a future with him, you could see yourself perfectly next to him in your white dress. You can imagine Aemond putting a baby to sleep while he lulls it to sleep in High Valyrian. Are you sure you want a future with Aemond. But you're terrified of his reaction to this unexpected news. What would you do if Aemond didn't want to keep the baby? You would have to break up with him. Even though you were scared, you knew you wanted to keep the baby. That was clear to you.

You heard the door open and it didn't take long for your boyfriend to enter. You got up from the couch and went to hug him. Whenever he returned home you welcomed him with a hug and kisses. This time you held on to him longer than usual, wanting to remember the feeling of Aemond's arms around you in case this was the last time.

You were about to kiss him but he turned your face away from him making your heart skip a beat. Before you could move away he gently grabbed your chin and studied you carefully. Of course, he had realized something was happening to you when you were clinging so fiercely to him.

“What's wrong?” he asked. Aemond first wanted to know what was happening to you before you kissed him.

Once again you regretted kicking Rhaena and Jace out. At least you should have taken advantage of this time alone to practice in front of the mirror how to tell your boyfriend that you are pregnant. Or you could have called your parents to help you. Although knowing them they would tell you to keep the secret so that the three of them could plan a big announcement together. But you couldn't wait, you need to know now what Aemond was thinking. You needed to know whether or not he would be with you on this trip.

“Y/n?” Your boyfriend called you, feeling his concern growing with every second that you remained silent.

“I think I'm pregnant” You closed your eyes feeling frustrated with yourself and hurried to correct yourself “I mean, I'm pregnant” You tried not to panic as you felt him move away from you “I haven't had any blood tests done yet but I'm One hundred percent sure I'm pregnant. I took five pregnancy tests and they all came back positive.”Your nerves were evident because you were talking faster than normal and you couldn't stop gesturing with your hands.

Aemond felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on him. This was not in his plans. Right now he was focused on opening his own publishing house, he needed to focus all of his attention on that, he didn't need a distraction and a baby would be that. Taking care of a child would take up too much time. But I couldn't tell you that. I'd be an idiot if I told you that. His mother didn't raise him to be an idiot.

“Marry me,” he said, knowing it was the right thing to do. Besides, ever since you two moved in together, he knew you were going to get married. He knows that he wants to spend the rest of his life waking up next to you, he wants your face to be the first and last thing he sees, he wants to come home and always be greeted with your kisses, he wants you to tell him about your day while the two of you have dinner, He wants to hear your theories about the TV shows you watch together. Aemond wants everything with you, even the most mundane things like going grocery shopping or walking the dogs. He loves you. The only reasons Aemond hadn't proposed to you already was because he wanted to wait until you finished college and he wanted his publishing company to be established. Planning a wedding was a big deal and you two didn't have time for that. But now it didn't matter anymore. “Marry me,” he said again with a smile as he saw how you opened your eyes and looked at him as if he were giving you the moon.

You couldn't help but laugh at yourself, feeling like an idiot for doubting Aemond. Maybe it wasn't the romantic proposal you had dreamed of but you didn't care. You were so relieved and so glad you didn't have to do this alone.

“Yes,” you responded with your heart racing and tears in your eyes. “Yes!” you repeated louder this time before throwing yourself into your fiancé's arms. You began to laugh as Aemond picked you up and spun you around. Your fears were forgotten. The only thing you felt at that moment was happiness.

Present

Aemon found it strange that when he arrived at camp Rickon was not waiting for him at the entrance like the previous years. He assumed this time that the trip had tired him too much and he went to take a nap in his cabin. So he decided to go there first instead of searching for him throughout the rest of the camp. If Rickon wasn't there at least he would leave his suitcases so he could walk comfortably.

When he entered the cabin he expected to find it empty or his best friend sleeping. He never imagined that an almost exact copy of him would be found walking back and forth all over the place. Aemon is not proud but his first reaction is to scream and throw his suitcase at him with all his might.

“Dude, what the hell?!” his copy shouted, barely managing to cum in time to avoid being hit.

“What happened?!” Rickon asked, also screaming, running out of the bathroom. “Aemon you finally arrived!” He ran to hug him.

Aemon barely moved his arms to hug Rickon but his eyes did not leave the other boy who was too similar to him. The copy of him didn't stop looking at him either, the two of them were studying each other. The only difference is that the stranger had much shorter hair than Aemon and did not have tanned skin like him. But Aemon knew that if he hadn't been sailing in the sun with his grandparents just a few days ago then he would look just like the copy of him.

"Who is he?" Aemon asked breaking the hug, no longer able to stand his curiosity. If he had encountered the copy of him years ago he would have thought that it was some kind of prank by Rickon or that maybe it was an evil clone but now he knew that it didn't make sense. The only logical explanation he could think of was that he had a missing twin but that didn't make sense because his mom would never hide something as big as this from him.

“Aemon do you need glasses? It's obvious that he's a copy of you," said the dark-haired boy, earning an angry look from the other two boys. “Don't do that, it's weird,” he complained.

“I am not Aemon's copy. In any case, he is my copy,” declared the short-haired boy.

“I met Aemon before so you are a copy of him.”

“Wait, why does he know my name?” Aemon interrupted before the other two continued fighting over who the copy was. He needed to know what was going on before he gave him a headache. Although since he saw the stranger he began to feel bad. It was disconcerting to see someone just like himself. He made him feel uncomfortable. Not even Joffrey looked that much like him, and she was his brother.

Aemon wanted to know who this boy was, why he looked so much like him, and why this was the first time he had met him. But at the same time, he was afraid. He could already sense that his life would be different after this camp. He decided to sit on the nearest bed to avoid running out and ask one of the caregivers for his cell phone to call his parents to come back to look for him. Maybe he should have let Mom walk him to the cabin like she wanted.

“Your friend thought I was you, he came up shouting your name when I was with my uncle Daeron. My uncle said that he knew you and that I should stay with Rickon until you showed up. Now I see why he insisted so much."

Aemon was sure he had heard Daeron's name before but he was sure he had never met him. Without realizing it he began to move his leg up and down trying to remember that he knew about Daeron but nothing came to mind.

“I am Baelon Targaryen,” the boy introduced himself, looking at him with concern and Aemon squeezed his leg to prevent himself from moving it further. “I think I'm your twin.”

“No,” the long-haired boy denied instantly.

“Dude, we're literally copies of each other!” Baelon said, frustration evident in his voice, pointing at Aemon and then at himself.

Rickon gave Baelon a look telling him to shut up. In the few hours that he had known him, Baelon had never seen Rickon so serious, so he crossed his arms indignantly and watched silently and attentively as Stark sat next to his twin.

“I know it seems crazy, Aemon, but I really think Baelon is right,” said the dark-haired boy, looking at his friend with concern. Rickon wouldn't know how to react either if he suddenly found out that he had a twin. “The two are copies of each other. Besides, he grew up without knowing his mom and you grew up without knowing your dad. I don't think it's a coincidence. Just like I don't think it's a coincidence that Baelon's uncle knew you."

Aemon looked at his best friend before turning his attention to his possible new brother. “When were you born?”

"June 20th. I guess just like you," said Baelon, and was satisfied when he saw that his twin nodded. "I have a photo of Mom!" He suddenly remembered the photo that he had stolen from Dad a long time ago and that he had hidden in his luggage. “You can see her and confirm that she is our mom,” he said excitedly, thinking that this way Aemon could no longer deny his relationship. He couldn't help but be excited at the thought that he was no longer alone, he had a brother. He had always seen how close his uncle Daeron was to his dad and his other uncles and he remembered wanting to have the same.

Baelon ran to grab his suitcase and began to take out all of his clothes, not caring about the mess, until he found the latest Boku no Hero manga that he was reading and triumphantly pulled out one of the pages the photo of her mother with him in her arms while she kissed his cheek, her eyes were only on him, not caring to look at the camera.

“Look,” he said, handing the photo proudly to Aemon. The photo wasn't complete, it was obvious that someone had cut it in half but Baelon didn't care. That photo was one of his most prized possessions. He looked at her every day before going to sleep because he reminded him that his mom loves him.

“Oh, shit,” Aemon muttered before handing the photo back to him.

“It's her, right?” Baelon asked, watching with anticipation as it was now Aemon who was searching for something in his suitcase. Aemon, unlike him, was not throwing his clothes everywhere. He felt his heart race when he saw how his twin took out a notebook and took something out of it.

“Is this your dad?” Aemon asked, giving him a photo. Baelon nodded several times, unable to say anything out of emotion. His dad wasn't looking at the camera but he wasn't looking at the baby he was holding either. He just looked to the side with a smile.

Baelon took both photos and placed them side by side on the bed. The photo was now complete. Dad was looking at Mom. If Baelon hadn't been so engrossed in looking at the photo then he would have noticed Aemon and Rickon exchanging glances.

“I told you we're twins!” Baelon said with a big smile once he snapped out of the shock of nudging Aemon.

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[moonhoures]

fool

pairing: mark (nct) + reader (fem.)

genre: non-idol!au, college!au, fluff

warnings: none, just mark being super nervous/anxious i guess

word count: ~1.8K

synopsis: mark is head over heels for you, but you have absolutely no idea. he’s running out of time to make a move. will the last day of school finally be the day?

a/n: i’ve lowkey been wanting to write a fic based off of “fool” by nct 127 for so long but never did it until now. i suggest listening to the song while you read to enhance the vibes 🤭 enjoy! 🫶🏻

posted: july 16, 2023

“I’ve never seen him like this.”

Four boys sat at the back of their homeroom class, waiting for the bell that signaled everyone to move on to their next class. The students were given the last ten minutes of homeroom to use freely and talk amongst themselves or study. A majority of them were buzzing with excitement and spieling to each other about their plans for summer break. But amongst the large group there was one student whose mind was far from thinking about their summer plans. Mark Lee’s mind was only preoccupied with thoughts of the girl sitting in the seat two rows ahead and one seat over from him.

The girl that had taken free real estate in his mind for the past semester. From the moment he saw you walking in on the first day of school, he had known he liked you.

Now, usually Mark’s friends would describe him as many things—extroverted, driven, caring, helpful, confident. But when it came to you, the girl of his dreams, he was merely a fool. A bumbling, cowardly fool.

Despite his friends’ countless efforts to get him to talk to you, he always either refused or fumbled on the chances he got. It irked him, but he couldn’t help it. You made him too nervous.

“Do you think he’ll finally get the courage to do it?” Renjun asked, glancing over at Donghyuck.

His friend sighed, “I sure hope so. If I have to hear him groan and whine all summer about her I might kill him.”

Beside him, Jeno chuckled, “I just don’t understand what is taking him so long.”

“And why did he wait until the last day of school to decide to ask her out?” questioned Jaemin.

Donghyuck shrugged, “I guess he figures if she rejects him, enough time will pass over summer break that it won’t be as awkward next semester?”

The boys nodded in understanding, then Jeno added, “You know he said he bought that outfit just to ask her out? Said it would ‘give him extra confidence’.”

“Yeah, and we can see how well that’s working,” Jaemin snorted, making the three other boys laugh.

They continued to watch their friend who sat a few rows ahead of them. Mark’s seat was shaking from how quickly his foot was bouncing on the bar underneath it. His nervous thoughts were translating to his motor skills by now, making his body visibly anxious. He could feel a bead of sweat formulating under his brow. Why was he like this?

His brows furrowed as he stared down at the desk top under his arms. Think, Mark, he thought to himself. All you have to do is talk to her. Just ask her what she’s doing this summer. Ask her if she might want to hang out. But what if she says no? What if she laughs in your face? What if everyone overhears and laughs at you too? What if-

He shook his head, growing more and more frustrated as time passed. The clock on his phone was ticking. He only had seven more minutes left until class let out, and he wouldn’t see you again until August. He needed to move. Quickly.

His eyes carefully looked back up at you. You were writing down something in your notebook while the girl in front of you spoke to you. Every few seconds you would glance up at her to show you were listening. You nodded along to what she said and laughed when it was appropriate. You were so kind and considerate; Mark knew that much. Admittedly, he knew lots about you.

You were semi-popular. You weren’t on any of the athletic teams or in the big clubs, but you were friends with the people who were. You attended almost all of the after school festivities. Your grades were a big priority for you, and you didn’t seem to slack in any of your classes. You excelled in Biology. You had one of the most melodic laughs he had ever heard. You had the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. You usually volunteered to help the homeroom teacher clean up any materials between classes. You were kind enough to help Mark pick up his belongings when his crappy backpack zipper had broke and spilled everything onto the floor. If one day you showed up with a halo suspended above your head, he wouldn’t be in disbelief for even a moment. To him, you might as well have been an angel. A goddess even.

His chest rose and fell a couple times with his deep breaths. He flexed his fingers on the edge of his desk before pushing himself back in his seat and standing up. The students nearby glanced up at him before returning to their conversations. A sudden rush of adrenaline pushed him forward, moving his feet closer to your desk before stopping next to it. Your friend stopped mid-sentence to look up at him, and you followed suit. Those tantalizing eyes of yours peered into his soul, it felt like. Still, he cleared his throat and spoke.

“Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to take a second to ask you something, _______.”

He waited for a response, but it never came. You stared at him, face completely blank. He stuttered trying to come up with his next words, but he shook his head and realized you didn’t answer because he never said anything. He never walked up to you. He never even got up out of his seat. He was so nervous that he was daydreaming. He checked the time on his phone again. Three minutes. Crap.

Come on, Lee. Stop being an idiot. Just do it.

Okay. No more stalling. No more being a coward.

One last, deep breath huffed out between his lips before he gently pushed his chair back and stood up. He willed his feet to bring him to the desk adjacent to yours. Luckily it was empty, so he sat himself in it, facing you. Your friend’s eyes gazed over at him, but she continued to speak as if he wasn’t there. You noticed him, doing a double take on him. His heart was pumping so fast he worried it might malfunction, but he told himself he wasn’t going to run this time. He wasn’t going to mess this up. He just needed to wait until you were free.

As soon as your friend finished talking, you looked back at him, “Did you need something, Mark?”

She knows my name. Well, of course she did. He had this class with you five days a week, every week, for the past eight months. But still, you knew his name.

“I- uh-“

No. No stuttering. Think, then talk.

“I was just wondering if you were going to be in town during the summer? I wanted to ask if you would like to maybe hang out during the break?”

The entire room went quiet. At least, it felt like it did. Maybe it was just the fact that he was holding his breath without realizing it. Either way, he felt dizzy.

“Yeah, I’ll be in town. I actually got a job at my parents’s convenience store down the street, so I’ll be there pretty much all summer,” you spoke with such a cadence that left him dazed. You were so entrancing.

He nodded, “That’s good! Maybe when you’re off, we could get some ice cream or something?”

“I’d like that,” you smiled, “I’m free tomorrow around three actually, if that works for you.”

Mark was half expecting to wake up from this daydream again and start the torturous cycle over. But this wasn’t a daydream. You were actually planning a date with him.

“Yeah, that’s perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, then.”

Oh my God. Oh my God.

As he finished speaking the bell rang, jolting him. You stood up, grabbing your notebook and backpack. Your friend followed you as you filed out of the room with everyone else, and he watched you leave him there in awe. A hand clapping down on his shoulder startled him for a second time.

“So?” Donghyuck questioned him, the other boys surrounding him. Surprisingly, with all the eyes on him, he was finally able to relax for the first time in the last forty-five minutes.

“We’re getting ice cream tomorrow.”

“Finally,” Hyuck groaned at the same time that Renjun congratulated him.

“Was that so hard?” Jaemin mocked him.

“Did your new fit help, then?” Jeno added, earning an annoyed look from his older friend.

Just as the room was clearing out, there was the soft sound of footsteps re-entering. The boys glanced up to see you walking back into the room. Your eyes widened a little bit from all the attention on you. You spotted Mark still in the spot you left him, and you approached him with your notebook and pen still in hand.

“We never traded numbers,” you reminded him shyly. He had never seen you look so bashful before. You were usually so nonchalant.

“Oh! Yeah, uh, can I get a paper?” he pointed at the notebook in your grasp.

You nodded, ripping a page out of it. You tore the paper in half, handing him one side while you kept the other. You jotted your number down and then handed him the pen you used so he could do the same. When he was done, you both swapped papers. You were both very aware of the four boys watching the whole exchange. They were seemingly oblivious to the awkwardness they added to the situation.

“See you, Mark,” you nodded to him and his friends before heading back out of the room.

“They grow up so fast,” Jaemin fawned sarcastically, a hand on his chest. Renjun snorted as Mark nudged the boy’s arm, earning a yelp of pain from him.

“I can’t believe she actually agreed to go on a date with you,” Hyuck said.

“I can’t believe he didn’t stutter halfway through and come up with an excuse to bail,” Jaemin crossed his arms and laughed. Mark rolled his eyes at his friends as he picked up his backpack. The tardy bell was set to ring any second now. His friends followed closely behind him as they left the classroom.

“Hey, I’m proud of you, man. Just wish you would’ve done it sooner,” Renjun spoke earnestly, “I mean, if you think about it, you could’ve been dating her this entire semester.”

Mark sighed, “Yeah, I know.”

Internally, he was thankful that this happened the way it did. Donghyuck, Renjun, Jaemin, and Jeno were the closest friends he had, but they also were relentless with the way they teased him. At least during the summer, they were all usually too busy to get caught up in each other’s business. This way, he could go out with you without being picked on all the time for it. Besides, he was nervous that if they got too involved, they might run you off. He liked the idea of just having you to himself, and letting you get to know him. The real him. Not the Mark Lee that was quiet and timid and too scared to talk to you all semester.

The tardy bell rang, making the boys erupt in a chorus of gasps and groans.

“Dude, Dr. Park’s going to kill me for being late again!”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this fic, please feel free to leave a like, reblog, and/or a message in my inbox! i would love to hear your feedback! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

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[loveysloveclub]

marys song - jack hughes

in which, you had always loved the boy next door.

your parents had been best friends with ellen and jim hughes long before you were ever born. so, it was no surprise that you had grown up alongside the hughes boys.

quinn was like an older brother you never had. he was the one you would run to when luke or jack were being too mean or when you had fallen off your scooter trying to beat luke in a race. he always took your side, even when you were in the wrong.

you and luke had been the closest growing up, since you two were the same age. he was your best friend. you helped him get girls and he scared away all the guys that were ever interested in you. you two stayed up all night, communicating through your bedroom windows. he was your partner in crime.

and jack? jack and you had always had a strange relationship. you had realised you liked him when you were six and he was hanging out with another girl that lived on the same street at you. her name was sally and you hated her guts from the second you saw jack tie her shoe lace. seriously, who even wore laces back then? it was all about the velcro.

age seven

you had found jack sulking in his backyard, kicking the grass with his shoed foot. you didn't know why he was upset, you were simply looking for luke.

"what's wrong with you?" you had asked him, your arms crossed and head turned up. you were quite angry with him that day, you had seen him kiss sally on the cheek during a game of truth and dare that you weren't allowed to play in earlier that week.

"no one here to play with me." he sulked, once again taking his anger out on a patch of grass. "where is everyone?" you had responded, slowly taking a seat next to him on the grass field. "luke got hockey and quinn at the movies with his friends, he said i wasn't allowed t come."

"why didn't you ask me to play?" you had asked the boy, who barely shot you a glance before shrugging his shoulders. "yous been moody all week."

you glared at the boy, "i'm not moody, maybe you just annoying."

"i'm not annoying, you're annoying!" he shot back, standing up from the grass and over you. you stood up just as quick, crossing your arms and standing on your tippy toes to seem taller than him. "you're always annoying me, jack!" you shouted.

jack rolled his eyes, "you should go home 'fore i beat you up."

jack would never have touched you, he was always threatening everyone with the same stuff. but you took it to heart anyways, tears filling your eyes. "i don't like you anymore, jack."

and with that, you were off back to your own home.

jim had watched the whole interaction with a small smile, he had an ongoing bet with your own father that you and jack were gonna end up together. it was all for laughs, something to bring up every christmas dinner.

little did he know.

age sixteen

you were practically bubbling with anticipation as you bounded down the stairs of your summer house, phone in hand with the text message from luke saying they had arrived on the screen.

you had seen luke all year, of course. but you hadn't seen quinn or jack since christmas last year due to hockey. you also knew that they had both brought some friends they had met through hockey, and had always had a thing for hockey players.

"bye mom! bye dad!" you yelled as you slammed the front door behind you and bounced over to the hughes household. luke had told you to just walk in, like you weren't already planning on it.

the hughes house had always been significantly louder than your own, you being an only child and there being three of them. but the noise that greeted you when you walked in was other worldly.

screams were heard, along with heavy footsteps as people ran around. you smiled to yourself as you crossed the barrier into the living room.

luke had an unfamiliar boy on top of him, holding a pillow over his head. jack laughed as he held back quinn, who was attempting to help luke. and two more unfamiliar boys yelled at the tv screen as they played some sort of hockey based video game.

"jesus, what in a warzone is going on here?" you laughed at the sight, and six pairs of heads snapped towards you. the boy on top of luke fell off him, as luke bounded to his feet and marched over to you.

"come on, holly. we're leaving these psychos to their own devices." luke stated as he grabbed your hand and attempted to drag you off to his room. but you stood your ground, ripping your hand from his before bounding over to quinn.

"quinny!" you exclaimed before enveloping him into a hug. the boy groaned at the sudden impact, before mumbling a small "hello bug."

as you released him, you turned to jack. the boy smiled at you and time seemed to stop. you hated how all this time and distance would never put your mind at ease when it came to jack hughes.

he opened his mouth to say something before the boy who was previously suffocating your best friend with a pillow intercepted him. "trevor. trevor zegras. it's lovely to meet you. have you seen the house? let me give you a tour." you had practically grown up in the hughes summer house, but you decided to not tell the excited boy that as you allowed him to grab your hand and guide you upstairs.

you turned back to look at jack, who already seemed to be staring at you. you offered him a shy wave and smile before turning back around.

no one seemed to realise how jack's eyes lingered on your retreating figure, no one except quinn who smirked at the sight.

he so couldn't wait to tell jim.

age twenty one

you mumbled small apologies as you pushed passed people in order to get to the authorised portion of the prudential centre. jack had just won his game with an overtime shot, and you were bubbling with excitement for him.

finally finding where you were supposed to be, you quickly flashed your pass before being let through by security. you passed many devils players that you had met over the passed year or two, offering them small congratulations.

you found luke before jack, crushing the taller boy into a hug before shaking his shoulders aggressively. "you were so good, lukey!"

luke simply shook your hands off him, his face stuck in a permanent fixture of smiles, before telling you he'd meet you at the car. you nodded your head before walking off, eyes searching for the middle hughes child.

when you spotted him, he was just wrapping up a conversation with his captain, nico.

"jack!" you exclaimed to get his attention, he seemed to look around aimlessly for a few moments before his eyes landed on you, a large smile overtaking his features as he began his trek in your direction.

upon reaching you, he wrapped his arms around your waist, "hey baby."

you smiled as you wrapped your own arms around his neck, offering him a kiss as a congratulations. his lips chased yours, but you were quick to pull away. laughing at his pout, "i'm proud of you."

the boy simply hummed before reconnecting his lips to yours. you pulled away again, "and i love you."

"i love you too." he smiled before reconnecting his lips to yours once more, groaning when you pulled away again. "and luke's waiting for us by the car."

and with that, you were dragging a sulking jack through the prudential centre.

#jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes #nj devils #hughes #jack hughes x reader #trevor zegras

[grapejuicestyless]

can you do a conrad fic based off the song i know you by faye webster?? angst to fluff? love youuuuu

I Know You.

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

flangst

summery: As the years went on, it became more apparent to Conrad of his and Y/n’s two year age gap. As he spends his last summer before college in a downward spiral. His mother, his father. But most important, the inevitable end of summer. Where he will go off to college and she will stay in high school.

Summer was always my favorite time of the year. The sand between your toes, the sunshine warming your scalp. Even in the sweltering heat, the summer temperatures only made the cool ocean water more desirable. More than that, it was the season of Conrad Fisher.

We’d met when I was only seven. He was nine, back when his hair was still shorter and his glasses weren’t collecting dust on his bedside table, but instead sat clean on the bridge of his nose. My parents had decided to finally buy the small beach house that had been on the market for almost a year. It was always my mom’s dream to live down by the water, so my father had been saving for it just so maybe one day, they could retire by the water, like the old couples do in the cheesy movies. The house that they bought that day sat neatly beside the Fishers beach house. Nothing but a wooden fence to separate the two backyards and a line of bushes in the front.

The first summer down, it was cold. Already, I had kicked and cried about leaving my friends for so long. Both new and old, all with the fear that they would leave and find better friends in my absence. Now, on top of my already distaste of the distance from our home, the sky was gloomy and the temperature refused to surpass the high sixties. It rained almost everyday, and when it wasn’t raining, it was about to.

It stayed that way for a week, the same week I spent inside, curled up in my room and looking out the window anxiously. I wanted to swim, at least. I wanted to run in the grass and I wanted to do everything my mother promised. I missed my friends and I missed my bed. Summer wasn’t summer to me.

Then, one morning, the sun came out. The cold front moved out and an intense heat suddenly took over. The mid eighties seemed like a dream. I could feel the sweat on the back of my neck sticking to my hair. My shirt sleeves were rolled up and my cheeks were burned. I spent the whole morning running around and playing pretend. I didn’t need anything in that moment but the surrounding joys of the summertime weather that had finally came. I was so caught up in this that I didn’t see the football go hurling over the fence.

“Hey!” His voice was much higher pitched then, he was just a boy. But it still scared me. It was loud, sudden. It made me jump. When I turned to face where the sound came from, he looked apologetic, but he never apologized. He was gripping onto the fence so hard, it was obvious he was either on his tip toes or not touching the ground at all.

I stared at him like an idiot, stuck in place, piecing together the context clues. I understood now that he was my neighbor. I waved shyly then, not wanting to be rude, and he waved back, still gripping the edge of the fence with one hand.

“I lost my ball, could you throw it over?” I was suddenly aware of the brown football by my foot. He pointed at it until I looked.

Slowly, I picked it up to show him. For some reason I felt nervous, unsure. He nodded, his smile never fading. Even then he had the kindest eyes, the warmest smile.

“I don’t know how.” I confessed. I knew how to paint, I could ride a bike. I was a quick runner and I could out-spell anyone in my second grade class. But I never learned how to throw a football. My dad had never taken the time to toss a ball around with me like he had once promised my mother to do. So, I never bothered to learn either.

“What?” He questioned.

“I don’t know how.” I repeated, unmoving.

“You don’t know how to throw a football?” He laughed, but he wasn’t making fun of me. It was almost like he couldn’t believe someone could lack such a skill!

“Thats what I said.” I held it with both hands, looking at the lacing while I spun in around in my palms.

“I can teach you!” He said, a little too enthusiastically.

“What?” I questioned him this time.

“I can teach you! I play football, let me teach you!” He persisted, adjusting himself on the fence so he could hang there for longer.

When I didn’t move he continued to beg. He begged and begged until finally I walked over the the gate that resided between the sides of our homes. It was rusted and hard to open, but it budged eventually and once I was over, I could see him fully.

He wore a blue baseball tee and athletic shorts. His glasses were fogging up from the heat and his hair was collecting sweat along his hairline.

That day, we didn’t leave the confinements of that yard until his mom, that I now know as Susannah, called for him to come inside for dinner. When he begged both his mom and I to stay for dinner, neither of us put up any fight. He called dibs to sit at the end of the table so he could sit beside me, and when dinner was served he gathered my plate for me so I wouldn’t feel awkward.

That night, he and Belly, who I met at dinner because she was to my right side, and who was also my age, begged again to let me stay over for the night. Susannah was unsure, not wanting to worry my parents too much. The next morning, he was knocking on my front door bright and early. He claimed we still had more to learn, but we spent the entire day down by the beach with his surf board and buckets for sandcastles. Suddenly, with Conrad beside me, I didn’t mind being so far from home anymore. Summer became summer.

Kicking the sand as I went, my footsteps left a trail of divots on the beach, marking where we had already been. The sun was just peaking over the horizon now. The air hadn’t gathered the usual summer humidity levels yet. It was the perfect time to be down here. Yet, today the waves were flat and the tide was too far out to really enjoy it. Regardless, Conrad and I always came down. No matter what.

It was one of the many traditions we’d gathered over the years. The yearly made up games became calming walks. The burning passion and competitiveness between us still burned, but in other ways. Our early morning enthusiasm never dimmed, it simply shinned for something else.

It was silent between us, but not awkward. Usually during this time we would talk about everything we missed. Though we practically slept in the same bed each night during the summer, his home in Boston and my families apartment in New York was much too far apart for us to constantly be together.

We would talk about school, our dreams, our friends and family. We still did all of that, but I couldn’t help but notice how he spoke less and less of his friends and more and more about us, Brown, and his mom.

Part of me worried for him, honestly. He called me just a few months ago. He had decided to quit football. I was shocked. How had Conrad, a boy with more passion for the sport than anyone I knew, somehow lost all the burning desire for it? Not only that, but it was that passion that brought us together in the first place. It was foolish to have been so caught up on the news, it was inevitable that we would’ve met. But part of me wondered if it would have been the same. I couldn’t help but wonder if his sudden disappearance from his clubs and sports made him drift away from them.

I still remember the call, when he told me everything. His deepest secrets, the ones that he kept from his own blood. When I laid down my concerns for him, how blandly he had stated it. I needed to know if there was something that happened. Something had to have happened. Conrad brushed it off then, he told me he had grown up and grew out of it. I knew that was a lie. He was just raving about it last summer. How excited he was to be back on the field. He described the the Friday night lights as the closest feeling to the summer sun he would ever be in the colder months. Something had happened.

So, when the line went silent, I reminded him of how he could run circles around anyone he wanted, but not me.

“Conrad,” I had started, “I know you.” And he knew what I meant. It was like I was watching him crumble beneath my fingers, even if I couldn’t see his face. He told me about his fathers infidelity, his mothers resistance towards freeing herself from their relationship. More than that, now that he was a senior, the reality of moving away for school was a looming storm cloud scaring him. But he never mentioned the loss of his friends.

“Hows Brett and Johnny?” I asked, suddenly aware that the farther we got down the beach, the less we had to say. We already covered it all over the phone, too eager to wait this year. It felt wrong, so I dug in the one blind spot this year.

“Oh…uh, I don’t really talk to them anymore.” He said is so casually, scratching at the back of his head. I expected to be partly right, but not right on the money. I stopped in my tracks, confused.

“What? No! Brett and Johnny?” Drifting away from childhood best friends is inevitable in most cases. The interests you share as children develop into passions and mature hobbies that often differ from one another. You are led down another path, but the kind smile they give you in the hallway during passing period reminds you how close you once were. You chat in the classes you have together and you catch up every so often.

“Yeah.” He took a deep breath like he was going to continue, but he didn’t. He stopped himself, he never stopped himself. Especially when it came to Brett and Johnny. His pals, his buddies!

He used to talk my ear off about them every summer! Begged Susannah to let them come with him. He told me of everything they did during the school year and he taught me their schoolyard games and we made the same stupid bets. It was a boyish love, I was so sure they would be the ones to stick together.

“I’m sorry.” I felt like it was my fault, somehow. When I connected the dots, his fathers affairs, his mothers giving heart, his brothers attitudes, his never ending stresses, I was left with a scribble of nothing. Just lines that resemble something that should mean something, but don’t. His friends wouldn’t leave him for something so small. I was missing something. I knew it.

He stopped himself, he was tense. He couldn’t even look at me. I wanted to slap it in his face that I knew something was missing, something bigger. I knew him. But the look in his eyes he hid almost completely behind his gentle gaze warned me not to push. If I unsurfaced it, he might not survive. So I let him hold back, just this once. I hope the squint in my eyes assured him I still, couldn’t have circles ran around me. I could simply read the room.

The longer summer progressed, the quieter Conrad got. It wasn’t just his friends that lacked in conversation. It was everything. He walked beside me more often than not with his head down and his hands in his pockets. He never talked about school, or his mom. He never asked about me anymore, what we should do. He lacked any ability to care, it seemed.

His eyebrows are forever furrowed. That kind smile replaced with an empty expression. During the day he was uninterested in every way. He never participated, never cared enough to even try. Yet, when night rolls around and I slip in through the window, I’m his again. He doesn’t really speak like he used to. We don’t laugh hardly enough. But he reaches his arms out just the same, and welcomes me into his bed. And when he thinks I’m asleep, I catch him pulling me in just a little bit harder than before.

I can’t help but wonder where it really started. I think back on it, and the first signs were all there. So small it was hard to know if it was really him changing or if he was just growing. Quitting football, losing his friends. Losing his father, in some sense.

But every time I try I always see that same look in his eyes. The one warning me not to push. The one that forced me to listen.

It wasn’t like he was being cold towards me. But there was an obvious difference in our nature. Shorter walks, longer wake ups. He was tired, and now so was I. But not of him, never of him.

“Conrad?” I asked in the silence. His room was darker now that he had ditched his nightlight all those years ago. The moon didn’t quite illuminate it the same as the glowing yellow did. I felt his body next to mine, his arms hovering over my body. His breathing was steady and his body unmoving other than the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

“I wish you would tell me what’s going on with you. I just want to help.” I sighed, under my breath. It was so quiet, even the waves in the distance seemed louder. I spoke this way just incase he was awake, in case he was lying. I never really knew anymore. He might as well have been sleepwalking these past few weeks.

When a silent pause passed, I understood there would be no response. He wouldn’t open up, and there would be no resolve. Conrad was and will always be my best friend. He’ll come around, I knew it. He had to. I doubt myself just a little when I remember his resistant look and unwavering attitude. I begin to think that it’s me. I have lost that special spot in Conrad that made him feel like he could always be as vulnerable as he wanted with me. I am not enough. I begin to think the day he comes back to me will never come, and he will be off to college with his new life and forget all about the girl who learned how to find his favorite constellations by heart just so they could point and laugh all summer about how they drifted quickly across the sky.

“Conrad!” I called out. My feet his the sand harshly. The uneven surface sinking quicker the harder my feet hit only slowed me down. My outstretched arms would never be enough.

He was already up the steep hill. Nearly crossing through the hedges and over the fence to his backyard. He was a storm. Untamed and wild. His fists clenched, not from anger but frustration. The sound of the bonfire faded into the distance, and my lungs were hot and sticky with smoke and the salt air.

“Conrad, stop!” I yelled again, straddling the fence clumsily. With an extra hop I barely cleared it having no time to gain any composure when splitting it.

Finally, the speed of my legs compared to his long strides balanced, and my hand was close enough to grab at him. He didn’t spin, but I could see the bruises on his knuckles and the radiating heat from his clothes. He was hot, worked up too. I just needed to see him, finally pry him open.

“Conrad, whats going on with you?” I begged for him to tell me. I wasn’t at all disgusted with him, I held no judgement. But it would’ve been so much easier to defend him if I had a reason.

“Go home, Y/n.” He was angry, his hands pushing back his hair so much, I thought he might rip it out.

“We used to talk about things, remember that? When we could talk about everything? Why shut me out? Why now!” I expected some sort of sympathy. Anything that would explain his distance and let me back in.

“Go home, Y/n.” His voice was steady, but strict. When he shook his arm, my hand came off so quick it slapped against my thigh. It hurt but I would never tell him. Make myself look more immature than I felt already. Just a dumb girl trying to understand his complex feelings.

Maybe he didn’t expect me to actually do what he said. He didn’t see that I would actually turn on my heals and head for home. He let out a choked breath, and just barely over the gentle breeze I could hear him sniffling.

My parents were out of town until Tuesday. I was so excited for this weekend. I could barely wait for tonight. The first Friday for just us in months. I bought his favorite cookies. I rented our favorite movies, threw our favorite blankets in the dryer.

I sit in my bed thinking about this, about how I did so much for him all summer. Stayed with him, stayed true. Held him like an oath. What was I beginning to become to him? Nothing more than his other friends, it became clear.

“Y/n!” Knuckles hit my window, followed by the soft calling of my name. It was persistent, I was ready to yell at Jeremiah to go home.

The window was Conrad and I’s sacred space, in many ways. When we were younger, my parents were stricter. Too scared to let a boy so immature into my room. So each night, Conrad would climb the railing on the back deck until he was high enough to crawl up the garage roof. It was lower than the rest of the house, and ended just outside my window. He would tap very softly until I would turn on my light and rush over. We’d talk and talk and talk until our parents realized it would be safer to just let us be.

Now, Jeremiah came knocking more than Conrad. Always wanting to sneak out with Belly or Steven. Conrad slept in his bed, and if I didn’t come, he wouldn’t come retrieve me.

But, after all these weeks, there he was. Hair a mess and puffy eyes. He was sitting just outside my window like a dog with a bird at my door. Waiting for some praise.

“Con?” It was pathetic how quickly I unlatched the handle that kept the window stuck shut. So quick to let him in again.

His limbs were long and clumsy clanking through the small window frame. It took longer the more he grew. It was a harder fit. He was breathing heavily, hand on his chest, balled up in a fist. He looked bewildered, panicked.

From the uneven breathing and the rapid pace, along with the paleness growing more and more in his usually rather tanned skin, I knew it was more than fatigue.

“Conrad, hey, Conrad.” I knew him, deep down. Even if distant behavior couldn’t get rid of what I already knew. He could never erase us, or my ability to know him so well.

“Just talk, say anything. I just want…need to hear your voice, please.” He rushed, voice raised but not yet shouting fully. I knew he liked to be talked down from these attacks, he used to have some when he was growing up. I never really knew what to say, though. No matter how well I knew him, it felt different.

“About what?” I asked, my hands guiding him to my bed. The blue stripped sheets wrinkled under our weight, the white duvet tossed lazily at the foot of my bed.

“Anything. The beach.” He blurted out, eyes wide and staring back into mine. I couldn’t help but notice how the moon made them look even more blue. Just as deep and swimming in color. My hands were shaky, and my mind was racing. Suddenly, I was speaking.

“I think I like July the best.” I breathed, trying to remain calm. I let my hand slide off his shoulder and into his lap. My palm that rested on his thigh flipped only to show that he could take it if he wished to. I wouldn’t mind.

“June is great too. I like catching up with you, finally seeing you again. But the sand is the warmest in July. I love being able to know that. I love being able to walk next to you with my hands in my pockets one second and being thrown over your shoulder the next. I love when you race into the water in your nice clothes. How we swear to our parents we won’t do it again and we do. I love our traditions, I love that no matter how old we get we still do them. I love how you teach me everything you love so I can love it too. I love that nobody really knows about them but us.” I feel his hand now. His steady fingers intertwine with mine. His breathing has slowed juristically and his eyes have sunk back into the usual droopy state. But the moon still shines in his eyes the same, they still swim with color. I am still sotting next to Conrad.

“Talk to me.” I whisper in the silence. He squeezes my hand three times.

“What if things are never the same?” He won’t look at me, thats when I realize just how serious he is.

“What do you mean?” My thumb rubs against the back of his hand. His skin is warm and soft. I want to kiss it, make it better. Know him fully again.

“I’m already losing my mom, what if I lose you too?” And suddenly I know him. I see how his mothers obvious illness is affecting him, even if she won’t admit she’s sick again. He had to have known, which meant I did too. I can see how his father’s infidelity makes him blind with rage, and I see how anxiety eats away at his insides until he is nothing more than a once occupied space. Over his family, over me.

We both know he is leaving soon. Only going farther away from me. He’ll be in college and I will be a senior. Its in our nature to see the world differently as we grow. I see him thinking about Johnny and Brett. Wondering if we’ll have the same fate.

“You know me.” I remind him, then. I squeeze his hands three times, I remind him how much I love him. I’m afraid I’ll never stop. “And I’ll never forget you.” My hand leaves his to brush the hair out of his face. I let my palm rest against his wet cheek selfishly.

“How can you be certain?” His weight rested in the palm of my hand, skin being molded under the soft motion of my thumb against his cheek.

I paused, biting my tongue. I knew the answer, but I couldn’t find the words right away.

“When we’re old and have to leave the earth, I’ll still remember all I’ve learned. From you.” I felt him smile. His eyes scrunched up delicately, knocking the stray tears away from his eyes. They pooled around my hand. I let them lay. Still.

“I love you, always know that.” I reassured him, my gaze locked in his eyes. Stuck.

“I love you too. And I know, I know you.” Summer would always be summer as long as I had Conrad, and I knew he felt the same.

I knew him like no other. It was a scary reality, trusting someone with something so delicate, so special. But when that anxiety takes over I get to remind myself that its only Conrad. The boy who tossed a football over the fence and taught me how to be a kid.

I wonder if he threw it over on purpose.

#tsitp conrad #conrad x reader #conrad fisher angst #conrad fisher #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad x you #conrad fisher x reader #conrad #team conrad

[mrs-monaghan]

Can you show me jungkook being the best boyfriend ever

What tf kinda difficult question is this??? JK is an amazing fucking boyfriend. He shows up. This👏🏾 motherfucker 👏🏾shows👏🏾 up👏🏾 He puts the standard so high, making it look like we are all getting treated by our partners like garbage. This dude loves Jimin so much and has always been there for him in so many ways big and small and you want me to pick one moment?

Oh. Unless u didn't mean just one moment in which case forget all that 😁😁😁 here. Have this Jimtiddie as an apology

Tweet

Off the top of my head my dear anon;

Exhibit a) Dieting

So once upon a time, I'm sure we all know the story of how JK got Jimin to stop dieting unhealthily.

(Thanks @sarah2711)

Exhibit b) The live they did after their UN speeches.

V is the one who starts the whole thing by making fun of Jimin apologising after he made his mistake during his speech. (I already talk about JK being there for Jimin here) Other members chime in and at first Jimin is laughing with them. But then at some point he stops laughing, just sits there as they continue to make fun of him. Then he starts chewing on his nails which alot of the time is a sign of nerves

And he absolutely shrinks in on himself. Of course JK notices immediately and that's when he tells the members to cut it out. He tells them how they should be making Jimin feel better. Not making fun of him. Immediately all the members, at the same time, backtrack. They start praising Jimin and saying how they get it.

The whole thing is too long to clip but it all starts at 12:32 here

Because we don't talk about Yoonmin 😏 we have to note that all of them made fun of Jimin but JK only spoke up after Suga said this

🤭🤭

P.s RM also said something but the members only changed their tune after JK did. I have always found this moment so sweet. JK was being protective of his baby here of course. Which goes hand in hand with this post. JK just wasn't having it and I love to see it.

When Jimin was explaining himself,

JK was quietly listening. He didn't say anything until Jimin said this

And we all know JK doesn't like when Jimin is being self deprecating. So it tracks that he comfortingly says;

That, right there anon, was JK showing up like the amazing boyfriend he is.

Bonus with the Jimin jealous moment here. And yes, thats exactly what it was.

More instances of JK being protective of his bf by Kanmom here

Exhibit c) SEVEN

Yes. Seven. The summer song of the year. Love to watch it. Love to hear it. So, I think we can all agree its a sex song. Period. That's what it is. It's a proper love making song. A topic we love to discuss on this side of tumblr.... but, have we stopped for a second to explore the romantic side of SEVEN?

So we established SEVEN is basically satellite Jeon in a nutshell. Which that alone is quite big. Always wanting to be with your person, next to your person no matter what. But JK chasing after his love interest from beginning to end till she gives in shows;

He would do anything for the one he loves. He would walk through fire. Through storms. Go anywhere... if it means its for the one he loves. He is devoted, he is all in. Deeper than the ocean. And this is basically what this post is all about, really. JK's devotion for Jimin. Deeper than the God damn ocean.

Then we have this part

For those who dont know what that means by now, I'll give u a few seconds to go look up the meaning on Google. In the meantime the rest of us will enjoy this cute clip of satellite Jeon who started quite early

Oh you're back! Yes. We can proceed. 😁😁

So what we have discovered is that JK is a generous lover... a considerate lover... Puts his partner first. JK is a "it's okay baby, you can tend to me later, this is about you" kind of guy. He is the "I won't come until you've cum" type of dude.

In other words, his lover is the priority.

Now.

Jikook don't have an only fans so we haven't seen this in action and there4 have no way of knowing that JK is like this in the bedroom. BUT, considering the fact that he prioritises Jimin all the time, we have seen this happen, I dont see why we can't assume this part of him extends to the bedroom too! Right? Like, its gotta be the case.

JK would rather loose provided Jimin wins.

JK always prefering to walk slightly behind Jimin

JK would rather miss out on the last dish and let Jimin have it. (And we know this is huge coz mans loves his food)

Just to give 3 examples that show JK when it comes to Jimin... well, u know. Jimin comes first. Literally and figuratively 😏 So I'm gonna go ahead and politely insist 😂 that the same happens during Sevening. Mkay? Glad we agree 😁😁

Exhibit d) JK always looking to praise Jimin.

(Thanks @tarheelthings)

Jimin made the group ramen (his specialty) and as u can see JK was already telling him how perfect it tastes and yet he hadn't even tasted it yet. Even editors noticed 😂😂

Bv 1 finale no one praises Jimin's santa and he laments as much.

We know our Mimi loves to be complimented and praised; absolutely feeds off of that shit. And JK knows this which is why he immediately tells Jimin "yours is the best" Jimin is so happy to hear this, cheeses so hard that even the editors notice.

Gosh... he was so happy 🥺🥺 Jimin has a praise kink and JK is great at fulfilling this. Aaah. Shit. Now I'm wondering if this extends to the bedroom 🤔 I'm pretty sure it does 🙈🙈🙈

Okay ✋🏽 let's stop thinking about JK calling Jimin a good boy and move on, yes?

Btw, RM too recognises that Jimin loves to be praised and u will see him come through too. But JK is always faster so... 😁😁

Then we have ITS when JK tasted Jimin's food, once again, high praises.

And then when when Jimin says

JK replied "I know."

Something about this moment drives home to me the fact that Jimin doesn't cook well, at home. JK does. But we already knew this from Jin ("Jungkook is Jimin's chef")

On the topic of praises, when other members try to make fun of Jimin JK will quickly make sure Jimin knows he doesn't feel the same way. This and exhibit b are like sisters. They can go hand in hand 😆

So Bon Voyage season 1 Jimin was cooking for Jin. As soon as Jimin placed the plate on the table JK did not once take his eyes off of it.

And, this was after JK kept going to keep an eye on Jimin cooking even though they weren't team mates or nothing. I'm telling y'all, Jimin sits pretty at home while JK does all the cooking. Anyway, when Jin tastes the food he says;

But the way he says it, its like he's taking the piss. It wasn't complimentary. So JK of course went;

And he couldn't get to that dish fast enough

And he devoured the rest of it

While the rest, mind you, are still making fun of Jimin/his dish. But JK didn't give a shit. His baby had made that plate and by God he was going to enjoy every second of it.

Once again, to me, this cements my theory that JK doesn't get to eat Jimin's food often. He gets way too excited when Jimin cooks, can't wait to taste his food, etc etc.

Which brings us to our next example where one time Jimin brought the entire group cucumber drinks and they hated it. Jhope goes on to explain just how much they hated the flavor.

There is a chorus of all the members agreeing with Jhope and even Jimin accepts that the cucumber drinks were terrible. But low and behold, look what the boyfriend had to say about it

Timestamp 4:12 so u can see for yourselves just how much everyone hated those drinks.

(Thanks @tarheelthings and @chicknbunny13)

Look, in JK's eyes, Jimin can do no wrong, okay? To JK, Jimin is perfect and that's that. End of story: No further questions. This behaviour is what I was talking about on my whipped post here.

Exhibit e) When JK checks on Jimin.

I don't gotta show many examples of this we've all seen it. JK always craning his neck over members to see what Jimin is up to. He always likes to know where Jimin is, what he's doing, which imo is amazing boyfriend behavior if ask me.

A moment I've never seen talked about anywhere from BV 1; JK comes into the RV to check on Jimin who's sleeping.

I know he came to check on Jimin because he walks in, takes a peak, then walks back out. Almost like he had confirmed Jimin was okay and now he could go about his business.

Tell me thats not the sweetest, cutest thing ever!

I've just uploaded 31 images n a video. I don't think tumblr likes me enough to allow me to do more so let's stop here. I hope your Jungkook praise kink has been fulfilled. It was my pleasure.😁😁

He really is a good man. The best. And Jimin deserves nothing less 😍😍😍

#protective jungkook #we don't talk about Yoonmin #satellite jeon #jikook is real #if jikook isn't real then neither I'm i #bon voyage Jikook #run Jikook #ask shaz #bts ask #jikook #kookmin #minkook #jimin and jungkook #jimin #jungkook #park jimin #jeon jungkook #bts #whipped jungkook #whipped jk #jungkook seven

[ilyasorokinn]

mary's song (oh my my my) , quinn hughes

note, this fic is part of the "taylor's version" series, but all the pieces in that series are stand alone. a side note, i might use the whole song or just a quote for the fic. i also might not use the entire verse. just depends. sorry if that's confusing. feel free to ask questions. another note, okay i haven't touched this series in literally a year, but i will try to write it more. i'm still excited about it and want to write it! so, i'm starting out with a popular player so you all get excited lol pair, quinn hughes x reader summary, a fic based on "mary's song (oh my my my)" from taylor swift's debut taylor swift album. warnings, none :) word count, 2494 words

(gif not mine)

she said, "i was seven and you were nine" i looked at you like the stars that shine in the sky, the pretty lights and our daddies used to joke about the two of us growing up and falling in love and our mamas smiled and rolled their eyes and said, "oh my, my, my"

You lived right down from the Hughes family. Your parents were good friends so you spent lots of time with their family growing up. So, growing up you, your brother, and the Hughes boys would have tons of playdates and would go to the park together.

Growing up so closely with them, little Y/N did develop a crush on her neighbor Quinn. Everyone around you, all the adults, could tell. Kids weren't exactly subtle with their feelings.

One summer night, you were all in your backyard, post-barbeque. All the adults were sitting in lawn chairs, watching the five of you play. Well, it was more like Quinn, Jack, and your older brother Y/B/N, were playing and you were sitting in the grass watching all of them while baby Luke was asleep in his mom's lap.

They were trying to play a game of hockey, but the numbers weren't even. No one wanted to be goalie, so it was just one on one on one, "This would've been easier if you'd play, Y/N." Your brother pointed out.

"Leave her alone," Quinn spoke up in your honor.

"Yeah." You butted in, glaring at your brother.

Your dad chuckled as he watched you watch Quinn's every move, "What?" Your mom asked.

"Y/N. She's always watching Quinn." Jim and Ellen looked over and saw you watching Quinn.

"Can you imagine if those two ever got together?" Jim joked, sharing a laugh with your dad.

"That'll be the day." Your dad clinked his beer with Jim. Your mom and Ellen shared a look, before rolling their eyes and shaking their heads.

take me back to the house in the backyard tree said you'd beat me up, you were bigger than me you never did, you never did take me back when our world was one block wide i dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried just two kids, you and i oh my, my, my, my

"Come on," Quinn called after you. He knocked on your door one day after school and told you to follow after him. So, you did. You ran as fast as your legs could take you, but you still couldn't keep up with him.

"Come on, you're so slow." Quinn groaned, slowing down for a second, "If you don't run any faster, I'm gonna beat you up." You couldn't tell if he was joking, so you stopped running.

"Y/N, what're you doing?"

"You said you were gonna beat me up." You narrowed your eyes at him.

"Cause you're moving too slow." He whined, "I wasn't actually going to beat you up. I was just joking."

"Well, it wasn't funny." You started running again alongside him before you finally made it to the treehouse in the Hughes's backyard.

You and Quinn finally made it to the tree and looked up at the treehouse then looked back to each other, "You go first." You pushed him up in front of the ladder.

"No, you." He grabbed your arm and shoved you towards the ladder.

"You." You managed to get your arm back and push him back in front of the ladder. He finally cracked and began climbing up the ladder. Once he was halfway up, you began your descent up.

Once you were both up, you sat down on the ground together, "So, why did you bring me up here?"

"Just wanted to hang out." He shrugged, "We always hang out with Jack and Y/B/N. It's never just the two of us."

"Well, what do you want to do?" You asked, posing a good question.

"Truth or dare?"

"It's not fun when it's just the two of us." You frowned.

"Then we'll just have to think of really good truth or dares," Quinn stated.

"Fine." You crossed your arms, "I dare you to..." You pursed your lips as you thought about it, "... kiss me."

"Kiss you?" Quinn repeated.

"Yeah." You nodded.

"Well..." Quinn hesitated, "Okay." He shrugged and leaned in, lips pursed. When you realize he was serious, you quickly stood up and climbed down the ladder of the treehouse as quickly as you could.

"Y/N? What the heck?" Quinn called down.

"I have to go!" You shouted, running all the way home and shutting the door loudly when you got home.

i was sixteen when suddenly i wasn't that little girl you used to see but your eyes still shined like pretty lights and our daddies used to joke about the two of us they never believed we'd really fall in love and our mamas smiled and rolled their eyes and said, "oh my, my, my"

Somewhere in between the playfights, childish dares, and first days of school, the five of you grew up. Your brother and Quinn had graduated the year previous and were getting ready for college.

Y/B/N, being the responsible older brother, was in charge of driving you to school. So, on the morning of the first day of school, you both walked out to the car.

"Hey, Y/N, Y/B/N!" Ellen hollered, "Why don't we get a picture of all five of you together?"

"Mom," Jack whined.

"Just one photo," Ellen reassured. You all got into position and smiled, "All right, see, you're all done." She turned off the camera, "All right you three, have a great day." She kissed both her kid's heads before hugging both you and your brother.

"Bye, Q." You waved.

"Bye, Y/N/N." He waved back.

"So, what're you gonna do with all your spare time now?" Ellen asked, watching as the four of you drove off.

"Probably sulk 'cause Y/N's not gonna be around." Jim joked.

"Shut up." Quinn tried to hide his laugh as he made his way back inside the house.

"Y/N and Quinn, sittin' in a tree." Jim teased, following Quinn inside the house.

-

You smiled to yourself as one of the little girls in your neighborhood chased a boy around the yard, "Proposition for you." You jumped when you heard Quinn and quickly turned around to find him joining you at the picnic table.

"All right." You nodded.

"You go on a date with me."

"Oh, yeah? And what do I get in return?"

"An awesome free dinner paid for by me." He flashed you a smile.

You pretended to ponder it and think about it, "I guess that sounds nice."

"You guess?" Quinn balked.

"I guess." You shrugged watching his reaction shift from excited to confused, "I'm kidding." You then watched him break out into a nervous laugh.

"Oh, cool." He tried to play it off as if he wasn't freaking out inside.

Your parents were, once again, sitting in lawn chairs, watching you and Quinn awkwardly flirt, "Our babies are growing up." Your mom spoke dramatically.

"All grown up." Ellen nodded.

"Never thought he had in him, I gotta admit." Both your dad's kept talking and laughing about how you and Quinn were finally getting together.

take me back to the creek beds we turned up 2 a.m. riding in your truck and all i need is you next to me take me back to the time we had our very first fight the slamming of doors instead of kissing goodnight you stayed outside till the morning light oh my, my, my, my

When Quinn would come back from school, he would always come over in the early hours of the morning and he would whisk you away to the place you had designated as your spot.

"Shooting star." You pointed up to the sky. You were both laying on the hood of his car, looking up at the sky. You looked over at him, only to find that he wasn't looking up at the sky but at you, "Why aren't you looking at the sky."

"Cause you're my whole world." Your heart soured and turned your head to the side so he wouldn't see the shy smile making its way onto your face.

"You sure know how to make a girl feel special, Quinn Hughes." You leaned into him. He only hummed, pressing a kiss to your head as you continued to look up at the sky.

-

You had little spats before, tiny disagreements here and there, but your first fight, it was something you never wanted to experience again.

"Are you serious right now?" You spat.

"I just don't get why you're making such a big thing out of this." Quinn shrugged.

"Quinn, this is big. I was gonna introduce you to all my friends and you just didn't show up."

"I'm sorry, I just lost track of time." He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants.

"Quinn..."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything!" You shouted, "I want you to give me a better explanation than you just forgot."

"It's the truth!" He raised his voice.

You scoffed, "I'm done." You raised your hands in surrender.

"What do you mean "you're done"?" Quinn asked.

"I mean I'm tired. We're going in circles and getting nowhere, so I'm gonna go home." You rubbed your eyes and headed for the door, "We can talk in the morning."

He stared at you, silent as he tried to figure out what he was gonna say next, but when no words came out, you walked out the door.

The next morning, you woke up and didn't want to move," Good morning." Your mother knocked before entering.

You groaned, turning away from her and trying to go back to sleep, "Before you fall back asleep, just thought you'd want to know there's someone waiting for you on the porch."

You quirked a brow before pushing the covers off and making your way out to the porch of your house where Quinn was laying, asleep, a couple blankets thrown across him.

You stared at him frozen, "He was here all night."

"How do you know?"

"Heard someone on the porch last night, came out this morning, and saw him." Your mom explained before closing the door and giving you both some privacy.

You sat down on the step next to him and just watched him for a second before gently waking him up, "Q." You whispered, shaking him gently.

He moved, rubbing his eyes, before opening them and locking eyes with you, "Hey." He yawned.

"Hi." You smiled, "Heard you were here all night."

"Yeah." He stretched a little before sitting up and giving you all his attention, "I didn't really like the way things ended last night."

"Me either." You sighed.

"I'm really sorry, Y/N. I really did lose track of time, and by the time i realized what time it was, the dinner was over, and I know it's a sucky excuse, but it's the truth."

"I might've been a little harsh. There's another get-together in like a week..."

"I'll be there." He cut you off with a firm nod of his head.

"I know you will." You smiled, reaching over and squeezing his hand.

a few years had gone and come around we were sitting at our favorite spot in town and you looked at me, got down on one knee

After you had graduated from college, you moved up to Vancouver with Quinn and got a job at a hospital. You both got into a nice comfortable routine.

During the break, you went home to visit family and celebrate the holidays. Before you could even breathe, you were both wrapped in a million hugs by both sets of parents.

"It's nice to see you too, Mom." You chuckled, hugging her.

"How's work? Tell me all about it." You were whisked off to the kitchen table where Ellen quickly followed and you were soon immersed in a deep conversation about all the gossip you had missed while you were gone.

After dinner, everyone retreated to their own spaces so you and Quinn headed out to the treehouse that was somehow still standing in the Hughes' backyard.

"I can't believe this is still standing." You laughed as you climbed to the top.

You laid back and looked up at the stars, "We used to come up here all the time, remember?"

"How could I forget? We'd come up here and you'd tell me all those crazy facts about the solar system."

"I knew you probably didn't understand anything I was saying, but you being there, it was sweet." You leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Listen, I have a proposition." You smiled.

"All right." You nodded.

"Marry me." He stated.

Your eyes widened and your mouth opened in shock, "Are you serious?"

"So serious." He nodded, pulling out a ring box from his pocket and popping it open.

"Quinn Hughes..." You couldn't find the words you were so speechless.

"What do you say? You and me forever?"

"God, of course. Is that even a question?" You tackled him in a hug, "You're crazy." You laughed, letting him slip the ring on your finger.

take me back to the time when we walked down the aisle our whole town came and our mamas cried you said, "i do", and i did too

Quinn felt like he was going to explode with nerves, "Dude, calm down." He looked out into the crowd and literally everyone you knew was there. Every grandparent, aunt, uncle, former coaches, current coaches, teammates, former teammates, everyone.

"This is worse than my first game." He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

"You're gonna be fine." Jack reassured, flattening his tie, "Just breathe." He took another deep breath, "There you go."

"All right." He shook off his nerves the best he could and stood straight at the front. The music started and the doors opened. The bridesmaids and groomsmen walked in, then everyone stood.

He felt his breathing hitch as he saw you walk in. You smiled at him and every nerve in his body, he felt it disappear instantly. You met him at the altar, and kissed your dad on the cheek, watched him shake Quinn's hand, then handed your bouquet off to your maid of honor.

The reception felt like it went by too quickly, "Do you Quinn Hughes take Y/N Y/L/N to be your wife?"

"I do." Quinn nodded.

"And do you, Y/N Y/L/N, take Quinn Hughes to be your husband?" You could hear both your mothers' crying and being comforted by your fathers.

"I do." You nodded.

"Then by the power vested in me, you may now kiss." You couldn't help the smile on your face when you both leaned in for the first kiss. You linked hands as you made your way back down the aisle, big smiles on both of your faces.

-

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[blondeboyfriend]

𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Hyakunosuke Ogata x reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] This fic is @dolcezzzza's summer horror event, The Cabin! The title comes a Dum Dum Girls song which got its name from A Season in Hell by shitlord poet, Arthur Rimbaud. I'm not a fan, but each section of the fic starts with a line from his poem bc some of his prose kinda slaps. [ SYNOPSIS ] The summer camp you're working at is being terrorized by a unseen force that is picking off your fellow counselors one by one. [ WORD COUNT ] 15.3k [ CONTENT ] DARK CONTENT, cliche summer camp slasher film AU, murder/character death, gore, alcohol (binge drinking), suicide, vaginal sex, size kink (his dick is girthy okay), strength kink, oral sex, rough sex, facefucking, exhibitionism, biting.

Baptism enslaved me

The past week had been a blur. You spent seven days running around in the heat, trying to make an inhospitable boy scout camp into something inspired. Breaking it in was your duty as your group was the first of the season. The trappings of a long, snowy winter and a violently wet spring lingered around the facilities. Your arms ached from clearing out fallen branches and musty piles of decayed leaves. Your clothes were constantly mottled with cobwebs and dust. Every night when you collapsed in your twin-sized cot you debated on running through the woods towards the highway seeking salvation in the form of a kind motorist.

That’s why you hoped you would spend your last child free morning in the comfort of your cabin. And yet there you sat, listening to the camp director droned on. You melted in the midday sun with your back against a tree, a pitiful attempt to shelter yourself under its leaves.

“I’m gonna die out here,” Shiraishi, your partner for the summer, moaned.

He too was slumped by the tree, his head hanging down limply. You flicked him in the shoulder with your thumb and forefinger.

“You can’t die. Mr. Tsurumi still hasn’t told us what group we have,” you whispered.

“I think you can handle them on your own.”

Sugimoto turned his attention towards the two of you. His cheeks flushed from sitting in the sun. He didn’t seem to mind bathing in its rays.

“Can you at least pretend to pay attention like me?”

His words barely registered. You couldn’t stop staring at his face. A dusting of tan freckles spread across the bridge of his nose, elevating his boyish looks. He was the only one who got cuter after a week of hard labor.

“Sure,” you said, mind still occupied with the slope of his nose.

“Unfortunately our lead counselor will not be joining us for the first couple days of camp.” The director wiped sweat away from his brow. “I’m sure all of you have heard about Yūsaku’s unfortunate… situation.”

“We heard alright,” Usami snickered.

Yūsaku had forgotten to reapply sunscreen and got scorched from head-to-toe. The golden boy’s pained groans persisted through the night as everyone attempted to sleep. Yellow blisters ballooned on his skin, marring his pristine complexion. You tried your best not to think about his affliction.

“But I know we will persevere in his absence. I have high hopes for this summer. Let’s make it a good one.” He smiled warmly. “The campers will be arriving in two hours. Your coordinators, Mr. Koito and Mr. Tsukishima, will have your rosters and itineraries for the week.”

Tsurumi said his goodbyes and strided away to his quarters. You stood up slowly, stretching your arms above your head.

“I feel… like we’re missing people,” you said, twisting your waist. “Where’s your partner?”

Sugimoto looked around and shrugged. He was paired with Ogata, easily one of the most enigmatic people you knew.

“Well there’s Tanigaki,” Shiraishi yawned. “Inkarmat’s with him too.”

Tanigaki’s burly form crested the hill. He looked ashamed, like a puppy three seconds from getting kicked down the stairs. Inkarmat followed close behind with a cooler expression. She looked refreshed and practically glowed.

“Did we miss anything important?”

Sugimoto looked at him with big, sad, wet eyes and sniffled. “Camp got canceled. We’re getting sent home with no pay.”

“And it’s all your fault, like specifically yours,” you said with a glare.

Shiraishi mirrored your expression. “Mr. Tsurumi said your name.”

Tanigaki’s eyes briefly widened before adopting a more stern state. You knew he bought it for a millisecond.

“Am I in trouble for anything?” Inkarmat asked, laughing. She was unflappable.

“No. You’re not being held accountable,” you replied.

“Just in time for Women’s History Month,” Shiraishi added cooly.

It was June and the last time you checked Women’s History Month was in March. Inkarmat snickered and grabbed Vasily by the wrist, dragging him off towards the mess hall. The idea of going inside sounded practically orgasmic. There was zero chance you could comprehend what activities were planned for the day if sweat continued to drip down your spine all the way to the crack of your ass.

“Let’s get our shit and go, like, sit down somewhere,” you said, tone somewhat urgent.

Shiraishi nodded in agreement and offered to deal with the coordinators. He could tell you were in no position to talk to upper management. You decided to wait rather than go off on your own even though your impatience was on the verge of having a body count. Luckily neither Mr. Koito or Mr. Tsukishima seemed particularly interested in speaking to him, or any of the counselors for that matter. You were so relieved 

There was a collective sigh of relief once you reached the shade. You scanned your roster, familiarizing yourself with the names listed.

“Archery on Wednesday?” Sugimoto said, voice slightly concerned. “That sounds cool, but should we really be giving kids arrows?”

“What?! We don’t have archery. We have knife throwing. Well that explains all the knives…”

“That’s not all we’re doing is it?” you asked.

“One day we’re dissecting owl pellets—Oh wait, there’s archery.”

“Do you guys have judo on Tuesday?” Sugimoto asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” Shiraishi affirmed. “And then we have Russian immersion right after.”

“Russian immersion?” you asked.

“You know, the language,” Shiraishi clarified albeit for no reason as both you and Sugimoto knew Russian was in fact a language.

“We’re doing that too,” Sugimoto said, yawning. “And wagashi making.”

Other activities listed were: friendship bracelet making and various types of yarn-based projects, mushroom hunting, canoeing, swimming, hiking and giant shogi.

Peace had fallen over the three of you. All you could hear was lilting bird calls and a burbling stream. Just as you had grown accustomed to the wondrous sounds of nature, you heard the crushing of twigs and dry leaves.

“It’s a bear,” Shiraishi whispered.

“There are no bears around here,” you said.

“Even if there were bears, Mr. Tsurumi has a shotgun in his cabin,” Sugimoto chirped.

Shiraishi sighed in exasperation. “Great because that’ll definitely save us right now from getting eaten alive.”

Despite there being a lack of bears in the area every hair on your body bristled. What if you all fell victim to a vicious wild boar attack? You weren’t even sure if wild boars inhabited the area either, but logic didn’t matter. All you knew was you didn’t want to die at camp. You didn’t want to have your flesh ripped from your body by an overgrown, ugly hog or any animal to be honest. You were too young; there was so much you wanted to do in life, so much you needed to accomplish.

“Oh. It’s just Ogata,” Shiraishi said.

Sugimoto’s co-counselor emerged from the redwoods, his expression blank and unreadable. He didn’t react to Shiraishi saying his name. It was if he intended on strolling past without saying a word. Usually you found this type of behavior tiresome and obnoxious, but he made it alluring and charming in an absurd sort of way.

“Where are you going?” Sugimoto asked.

“To camp.”

Sugimoto went to speak, but you butted in.

“You should come sit with us! We got our schedules and everything! ” you blurted out.

Your face was burning. You assumed you would’ve been smoother with your approach. Your fumble didn’t seem to phase Ogata as he took a seat right next to you, leaving zero space in between. Sugimoto was left alone on the other side of the picnic table.

“Did I miss anything important?” he asked.

Sugimoto wordlessly slid their group’s information across the table. Ogata looked it over. 

“Mushroom hunting,” Ogata muttered as he ran his hand over his undercut, trying to smooth down a rogue lock of hair. “Hm. We’ll have to make sure the kids don’t pick anything toxic.”

Shiraishi groaned. “I figured everything out there would be safe to eat.”

“Wh—what do you mean out there? It’s the woods. Do you think Mr. Tsurumi combed through the entirety of it to make sure every little growth out there isn’t toxic?” you asked.

You found yourself compelled to say as many words as possible to make your presence known even if it was at the expense of your partner. It was shameful, but it was an unstoppable compulsion. Ogata’s presence implored you to take up more space. You laughed louder than you normally would. You smiled when your expression would otherwise be one of indifference. You said the things you would otherwise be too lazy to. Anything to get his attention even if just for a passing moment.

Ogata chuckled and your heart sang.

“I don’t know! Now we’re gonna have to watch them like hawks.”

“Our job is to supervise them,” Sugimoto chided.

“Excuse me for not wanting to do my job,” your partner grumbled.

You wondered how feasible it would be to get assigned a new co-counselor. Shiraishi wasn’t unlikable; you got along well enough. But you had a feeling most of the heavy lifting would fall on you.

Shiraishi rested his chin on his hand. “I just hope our kids aren’t assholes.”

“They will be. That’s just how kids are,” you laughed.

“Not if you scare them into submission.”

“Nope. Not happening. Not a chance,” Sugimoto said, demolishing Ogata’s suggestion.

“As long as we all set expectations early it shouldn’t be too bad. They just need to know what to expect from us. Kids are sedated by consistency.”

“Sedated?” Ogata asked with a smirk.

His voice, rich and gruff, reverberated throughout your body. It seeped through your skin, deep into your bones, saturating your thoughts with unseemly things. Your eyes went to his hands, something you always found attractive, only to be mildly disgusted by his dirty fingernails. 

You tried to shake it off. “Domesticated. Placated. Basically they won’t act like monsters.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied coolly.

“We should start getting ready,” Sugimoto said.

“I guess,” Shiraishi yawned.

You slapped him on the back. “You can’t be tired yet.”

Your partner whined that he was within his right to be tired which didn’t matter one way or another to you. It was going to be a long day; you could feel it. But not all hope was lost. If you were able to get within close range of Ogata it would be more than worth it.

The horror of my stupidity

The first day went perfectly. Your group consisted of six rambunctious, but generally well-behaved ten-year-olds. Shiraishi managed to overcome his lackadaisical leanings and took a hands-on role, but still deferred to you. You didn’t mind leading so long as he wrangled the more unruly kids. His commitment set you at ease.

The next morning was a quiet one. The kids were usually placid at first. Their cautiousness proved useful while foraging for mushrooms. They kept their hands to themselves and none of them ate anything deadly. The only unsettling thing was Tsurumi’s gleeful reaction whenever a destroying angel popped up.

“Mr. Tsurumi, would you poop your pants if you ate one?” a camper asked thoughtfully.

His dark eyes lit up and he gave the child a toothy grin.

“Why yes! Diarrhea and excruciating cramps are the first symptoms of alpha-Amanitin poisoning.”

Another camper pointed out what they thought was a wild carrot only to be told by an ecstatic Tsurumi that it was actually hemlock. The kids were riveted as he detailed the horrific symptoms of hemlock poisoning. Their horrified gasps when he told them there was no antidote seemed to thrill him.

Upon returning to camp it became clear that all was not well. Shiraishi was the first to notice the white sheet draped over a humanoid shape. It was partially obscured by one of the cabins. Tsurumi’s jovial facade gave way to flat expression and he sprinted off towards the disturbing scene.

“Hey,” you whispered, tapping Sugimoto on the shoulder. “Can you guys take the kids? I’m, uh, gonna be nosy.”

Your partner stood erect beside you. “Me too.”

“No,” you hissed. Shiraishi didn’t budge. “Someone has to be with our group.”

“Why not you then?”

“Be—because I was… I was… okay. Listen—”

“It’s fine. I got it,” Sugimoto sighed. “I wanna know all the details though. If you skimp, I’ll never forgive either of you.”

Ogata cleared his throat. He herded the campers away from whatever was shrouded under the white sheet. They were all clamoring around him, wondering when they’d get to eat fruit snacks. One was crawling up his leg and another was attempting to tie his shoes together. It made your stomach flutter seeing him be so patient with them.

Sugimoto took the hint and headed towards his partner and the gaggle of children, but he stopped midway to reiterate that he wanted all the details much to Ogata’s annoyance.

Once they were out of sight you and Shiraishi crept closer to and saw Nurse Kano kneeling beside what you assumed was a corpse. She lifted the sheet and studied what was under it, her expression a twisted combination of enthrallment and disgust. She stood up slowly.

“He’s dead.”

“We should call the paramedics then,” Tsukishima said.

Koito looked perplexed. “But he’s already dead. Shouldn’t we call the coroner?”

“You can’t just call up the coroner,” Tsukishima sighed.

Tsurumi squatted by the body and lifted the sheet. The director’s curiosity gave you a perfect view.

It was Tanigaki. His face was pale, eyes wide and cloudy. His lips and chin were crusted over with banana yellow bile. A desperate cry got caught in your throat. You wanted to look away and go back to your kids. But you were frozen, lost in Tanigaki’s lifeless gaze.

“Tanigaki,” you croaked.

Tsurumi’s eyes darted in your direction before returning to Tanigaki’s body.

“Otonoshin, go call 9-1-1,” he said calmly.

Koito rushed off to make the call. Tsurumi lowered the sheet. You couldn’t believe that you’d never see Tanigaki again, that he was gone for good. You hadn’t known him long, but you grew very fond of him.

“He can’t… This isn’t happening…”

You struggled to find the words. Seeing the outline of his face under the sheet radiated a finality that ripped your soul from your body.

“I wonder what happened,” he mumbled as you both walked away. “He looked…”

“I—I can’t think about that right now. I don’t wanna think about that right now.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

You wiped your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine. Let’s hike to the lake or something. I don’t know.”

There was a sense of relief when you spotted the campers. You couldn’t help but smile when they broke out into a cacophony of questions regarding your whereabouts. In the midst of the excitement one camper launched a fruit snack at Shiraishi’s eye.

“You pull something like that again and I’m sending you to Mr. Tsukishima,” Ogata rumbled.

“Anyway,” Shiraishi said. “Who wants to hike up to the lake? Maybe race some canoes?”

The campers cheered and bolted in the direction of Tanigaki’s body. You and Sugimoto chased after them but they scattered like roaches. You could only stop so many of them.

“Hey! Were any of you dismissed?!”

Ogata’s voice cut through them and they immediately made their way back, heads hanging. You hadn’t expected him to be so firm with the campers. He was kind of withdrawn around the other counselors, or at the very least opaque. He mostly kept to himself though his brother was usually fluttering around him. You felt like you barely knew Ogata despite spending time with him, whereas Shiraishi and his oversharing made him feel more like an old friend or a weird cousin. As frustrating as it was, the mysterious haze that obscured Ogata drew you in. You wanted to know more about him, to pry open his soul and study its contents.

“You all owe your counselors an apology.” Ogata’s sharp gaze turned to the kid that hit Shiraishi with a fruit snack. “You especially.”

The kid looked terrified and quickly mumbled an apology. The rest of the campers groaned “we’re sorry” in unison. With the apologies out of the way the four of you prepared them for their hike.

“Look! More hemlock!” one the kids exclaimed. She knelt beside the plant, her face inches from its toxic, white flowers.

“Don’t get too close to it,” Sugimoto said, his voice like that of a concerned mother.

You could barely focus, but the camper was in your group so you felt compelled to try. “Or just don’t go around it at all. Leave it alone.”

“I’m just looking!”

“Looking that close is enough to kill,” Ogata said over his shoulder. “If you inhale the fumes, you're dead.”

This seemed to quell any remnants of curiosity. The campers spent the rest of the hike spotting mushrooms and imitating Tsurumi’s passionate infodumping. The word “creepy” was thrown around liberally. You chastised them for being disrespectful, but you agreed. His behavior made you uncomfortable, especially in the wake of Tanigaki’s mysterious death.

The lake was calm, the serenity of the scene much needed.

“Look!” a camper called out.

You thought it was cute that they were just as pleased to see the lake as you were. However something was riling them up as they made their way down to the shore. Some ran right back up the hill. Their faces paled, their eyes ripe with fear. 

“Saichi, Saichi!!” one said, latching onto his arm. “Look!!”

Sugimoto crested the hill and looked down.

“Oh shit,” he said. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.”

“Stop swearing around the kids,” Ogata sighed as he joined his co-counselor to survey the situation. “Shit.”

“What is it?” you and Shiraishi shouted.

“Everyone away from the lake!” Ogata called out.

The kids bounded up the hill and cowered beside you, clinging to you for comfort.

“You guys, what is it?” you repeated, patting a camper on the head. “Is it something gross?”

“You could say that,” one piped up.

Sugimoto and Ogata turned to face you, but they seemed unable to speak. You freed yourself from the kids and walked towards them. Your absence caused them to swarm Shiraishi.

“It’s a body!” one shrieked.

“Um, it’s a lady!” one replied in a bratty tone.

Each step felt heavier than the last. Your body was screaming for you to turn around, but you couldn’t. You felt sick to your stomach. Kids made up stories all the time. They played pranks. Maybe they were lying.

“Is she going to be okay?”

“Maybe she’s just sleeping.”

“What are you? Dumb? She’s dead!”

Their voices were all melding into one. Everything began to blur. You knew what was coming. You knew what you were going to see. And yet you kept walking.

It was Inkarmat.

“Shi… Shiraishi. Take the ki…”

You forced yourself to look at the water, trying to ignore her putrefied remains. You leached away its calmness like a parasite. The tranquility you attempted to foster only did so much. You still felt like garbage, like you could vomit at any second.

“What is it?!” Shiraishi shouted back. “And,” he groaned, “I can’t take them all by myself!”

He was right. Being responsible for twelve disturbed children in the woods with terrible cell reception was asking for trouble, but you were too stunned to think up a plan of action.

“Ogata and I will be in the front. You and Shiraishi take the back. I’ll tell Tsurumi when we get back to camp.”

You nodded and started walking back to the group with Sugimoto. Tears welled up in your eyes as you made eye contact with a terrified camper.

“Hey! Ogata!”

He was still on the hill, staring down into the lake

 “We have to go!” Sugimoto bellowed.

Ogata didn’t budge, and Sugimoto did not have the time for such antics.

“I’ll wait for him,” you said, wiping away your tears. “I don’t want the kids to see me like this anyway.”

“It wouldn’t kill them to see that you’re human,” Sugimoto said, trapping you in his gaze.

You sniffled. “Gross.”

Sugimoto didn’t have time for whatever was going on with you either. You couldn’t blame him. The kids had to take precedence. All you needed was two minutes to collect yourself and you’d be a functioning camp counselor again.

Ogata was still frozen in time. Everything was so still you didn’t want to speak, let alone move. You felt like the sound of a twig snapping beneath your feet could send the world into chaos.

“Hyakunosuke.” Your voice was soft, any louder and it would waiver.

Your legs shook as you made your way up the hill next to him. You made a conscious effort to keep your eyes on Ogata, nowhere else. You let yourself get lost in him and studied his face. You were curious about his symmetrical scars and how he got them.

“You’re not traumatized by this?” Ogata finally asked.

You thought about Tanigaki.

“Doesn’t that bother you?” he said, pointing at Inkarmat’s bloated corpse.

“Why are you asking?”

“I dunno. Curious I guess.”

Your mind went blank, but you kept speaking. “I’m… upset obviously. But I don’t want the kids to know… so… I’m—I am gonna pretend none of this ever happened and get through the week in one piece hopefully.”

“I know you can do it.”

His support did little to soothe you.

“I saw Tanigaki earlier. I saw his face. It was… He had puked all over himself and it just was so sad, like so undignified.” Ogata snorted, but you were too frazzled to comprehend it at the time. “And now that’s how I’m going to fucking remember him?” You tried to take some measured breaths. “Like was he in pain? Was he scared? Did he call out to any of us? Did he die, like, knowing we cared about him? Or did he just fucking lie in the dirt for hours, wondering why none of us came to help him?”

“Where was he?”

“His cabin. It kinda looked like he was leaving, or maybe he was going back in. He was on his back though.”

You couldn’t say anything more. You needed as much distance from the memory as possible. If Ogata wanted to know more, he would have to badger Shiraishi.

“Let’s go,” he said suddenly. “They’ll probably have to ask us a bunch of questions.”

“They? Who—”

“Maybe Tsurumi. Or his two guard dogs. Or the police. If we’re lucky maybe it’ll be all of them.”

Your bones were turning into dust, your body buckling under its own weight. You saw far too much today and said too much about it.

“Are you going to be alright?” he asked.

“I can’t move.”

You knew that in theory you could manipulate your body in such a way that would create distance between you and what remained of Inkarmat. You were practically screaming at yourself to go back to the group and embody Shiraishi’s laid back nature. But your fear was intangible, unforeseen, and there was no escaping it.

“Get on my back.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll carry you,” he said, readying himself to give you a piggyback ride.

“Are you sure?”

“Probably.”

You felt bad for giggling, considering you weren’t far from a corpse, but the lightness of it set you free. You hopped on his back and made your way through the woods, following the shrill voices of your campers.

“I’m going to need a drink after today,” Ogata grumbled.

“What do you mean a drink? I need an entire fifth to myself with one of those sport caps they have on water bottles screwed on top.”

“I can make that happen.”

Ogata said it with such ease. He was becoming the perfect distraction, a comforting beacon in a sea of blood and vomit.

I believe I am in Hell, therefore I am

You and your fellow counselors decided a night of binge drinking was needed to cope with the day’s horrifying events. Everyone traded stories. Yūsaku joined the party, finally able to walk upright without yelping in pain. He was blindsided by what happened.

“So that’s it? They’re dead?” he asked, face flushed from his sunburn and the copious amounts of watery American-style lager he was drinking.

You took a sip from a bottle of tequila. Ogata managed to screw a sports cap on top making your dream a reality.

“I don’t know. I mean, yeah. They’re dead. That’s for sure.” The alcohol had softened the blow of seeing both of their bodies. “Seeing Tanigaki fucked me up… Not that Inkarmat didn’t… It’s just, like, his was the first I saw, y’know?”

“You always remember your first,” Usami said as he wandered into the woods to relieve himself.

Yūsaku shivered and you washed away Usami’s words with an amnesia seeking gulp of tequila.

“Sucks for you though. You’re gonna have to pick up the slack.”

“I don’t mind. It’s what I signed up for,” he beamed. “The kids really liked Inkarmat though. I have some big shoes to fill.”

“I think you’ll be a hit. They might try to peel off loose pieces of your skin though.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take for the good of the camp!” he cheered.

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed.

“In a bad way?” he said, batting his long eyelashes.

You thought he was a total dork, but his optimism was infectious. Or maybe it was just your intoxicated mind being more open to suggestion. After having such a horrendous day it was nice to indulge in someone else’s dream. You knew deep down that there was no way camp would go on as planned, but it was easier to pretend that Yūsaku’s drive would be enough to pull everyone through.

“No, no,” you said, patting him on the head. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”

Out of the corner of you watched Ogata emerge from the woods and sit on the ground right next to the campfire. He held his hands to the fire. You watched as he closed his eyes, his body relaxing, shoulders lowered.

“You’re so nice” Yūsaku said, giving you a bear hug and lifting you off the ground.

It caught Ogata’s attention and he narrowed his eyes as his half-brother spun you around.

“Yū—Yūsaku, I’m getting dizzy.”

He blushed and apologized. Once your feet were on the ground you joined Ogata by the fire.

“How’s the bottle been working out for you?”

“Amazing,” you said, taking another drink. “Are you cold?” You scooted closer to him. “Where’d your jacket go?”

“I’m not sure. Why all the questions?”

You didn’t think two questions were considered a lot. “No reason.”

You hadn’t thought this conversation through. You were stumped and floundering. You should have known better to attempt to flirt while drunk. Your chance was slipping through your fingers and it made you ill. You needed something good to happen, something exciting. You needed Ogata to figure out that you were charming and interesting and most importantly fuckable.

He closed the gap and leaned against you.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Maybe. I… I have no idea honestly. I don’t know how I feel. Sometimes it’s like,” you took a sip of tequila, “I feel freaked the fuck out. But then sometimes I feel abso-fucking-lutely nothing. Like right now. It feels like it didn’t even happen. Are you okay?”

“I am. I only knew them for a week so they didn’t matter much.” His comments were so callous. “Don’t get me wrong. They were nice people, but that’s all they were to me.”

“Nice people,” you repeated.

“Yeah. Nice people.”

“Would you be sad if I died?”

He stared into the fire. “Maybe. Our groups get paired together for activities.”

“What does that mean?!”

“I’m around you a lot. Your absence wouldn’t go unnoticed,” he said with a smirk.

Your cheeks flared up and found it increasingly harder to hold it together. You regretted all the tequila. Spit was pooling in your mouth.

“Yeah, well. Of course it would. I’m, like, fucking… yeah,” you said, eyes half-lidded.

He chuckled. “Exactly.”

“I think the kids and the—their, uh, inarticulateness is rubbing, you know, off.”

“Oh yeah, that’s it. It’s definitely not because your blood is 90 proof.”

“You want some of it?”

You gave him a sloppy wink. His dark eyes widened, his eyebrows raised. It was the first time you had ever seen him so flustered.

“I—” he stuttered.

“Hey,” Shiraishi barked. “You guys seen Vasily?”

Ogata resumed his usual hard to read demeanor. You wanted to break the bottle in your hand and gut Shiraishi with it.

“Uhhhhh… Not like recently. I thought he was with you and Sugimoto,” you replied politely through a clenched jaw.

“We thought he was with you.”

“He could’ve went to bed early,” Ogata suggested.

“Hmmm yeah. I wouldn’t blame him,” you said.

“We should do that,” Shiraishi said, pointing at you. “We have target shooting at seven in the morning.”

You groaned. He was right, a good night’s rest was necessary. It killed you to say good night to Ogata, but there was always tomorrow. You didn’t need to rush things. 

I looked on the disorder of my mind as sacred

You woke up the next morning with a persistent ache near your temples. You rolled out of bed and dug around your suitcase for some ibuprofen. You grabbed four and choked them down with room temperature water. It felt thick as it made its way down your throat. The sun was just starting to rise, the sky a dreamy shade of lavender.

It was weird to wake up alone. You hoped that it would be easier the second time around, but Inkarmat’s absence weighed heavy on you. You couldn’t figure out how she made it to the lake. The last time you saw her she said that she was going to fuck Tanigaki and to cover her ass if needed. She must have gotten lost on her way back from wherever it was she met him. Maybe she took a wrong turn and fell. Or maybe Tsurumi had something to do with it.

“Good morning!!”

Shiraishi’s cheery voice cut through your thoughts. You got up and let him in.

“Tsk, tsk. Still in your pajamas. What am I gonna do with you?”

He handed you an enamel mug full of coffee.

“Tsurumi wants to talk to us in an hour. I ran into him when I was going to take a piss.”

“Did he seem worried?”

“Not really.”

“Weird… I think he has something to do with it. He killed Tanigaki for sure and he probably killed Inkarmat too.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I think Tsurumi poisoned him with hemlock. What we saw lines up with the symptoms he told us when we went mushroom foraging.” Shiraishi didn’t look convinced. “Like do you think this is all a coincidence?”

“Why would he kill him though?”

“People kill without motives all the time.”

“I don’t buy it.”

“Seriously? He’s a creep. Who else would it be?”

“I don’t think it’s a person,” he whispered suddenly. His eyes shifted from left to right. “I think this place is haunted.”

“Oh yeah? Did Inkarmat read some passages out of the Necronomicon Ex-Mortis? Did she release the Deadites? Or maybe the soul of a drowned ex-camper is wandering the woods and picking us off one by one.”

Shiraishi was an idiot. There was no way the camp was haunted. You kicked him out and got dressed. You felt like you were moving in slow motion. You didn’t want to have some group discussion about what happened the day before. You wanted to put it in the past and focus on the kids and their activities. You wanted to finally have a canoe race.

When you walked into the mess hall it was dead silent. You took a seat next to Ogata much to the disappointment of Shiraishi and Sugimoto. There was an empty seat in between them.

“Where’s everyone?” you asked.

“No one’s seen Vasily or Usami since last night. And Koito’s with the kids. We’re just waiting on Tsurumi.”

“What about Nurse Kano?”

“I dunno…”

“Sorry I’m late!” Yūsaku said breathily. His hair was wet and his clothes were haphazardly thrown on.

“We haven’t even started yet,” Ogata groaned. “Sit down.”

Five minutes later Tsurumi came in with Tsukishima following behind like a shadow. He looked tired. His normally neat hair was askew, several strands of hair grazing his face, and his clothes were wrinkled.

“There’s no easy way to begin this discussion. We’re down four counselors. Genjirō and Inkarmat are dead, and apparently some of you are missing. That means there are twelve campers without any supervision.” He pointed at Yūsaku. “Yūsaku, you’re their counselor now. We’re also down a nurse. I received a note this morning from Nurse Kano saying, ‘I’m done with this shit. You’re not paying me enough and if I see you again I’m going to skin you alive.’ Needless to say, I would appreciate it if we kept any and all injuries to a minimum.”

Shiraishi raised his hand. “What if there’s an accident?”

“There won’t be any accidents!”

It was the first time any of you heard Tsurumi raise his voice. He took a deep breath and continued speaking, his tone even.

“The police have been informed about the disappearances. They said,” he sighed, “they’ll keep in touch.”

Sugimoto’s hand shot up. “Mr. Tsurumi, I have a question.”

“Yes, Saichi.”

“Shouldn’t we cancel our activities today and go look for Vasily and Usami?”

“I see no reason to punish innocent children for our failings.”

“Aww,” Shiraishi said quietly. “That’s so sweet.”

“It’s best to leave this up to the authorities. The last thing I want is for one of you to get hurt. We’re short staffed as it is,” Tsurumi said before ending the meeting.

The campers were full of questions, but overall the day was peaceful. Target shooting went well, and the kids loved learning Russian. Whenever Tsukishima wasn’t paying attention Ogata would teach them a few swear words. They lived for it, laughing like hyenas as Tsukishima tried to figure out what was so funny. Things felt kind of normal.

Sugimoto was the one to finally suggest going on a night hike after dinner. He thought Tsurumi was stupid for not utilizing everyone in the search, and it weighed on his mind all day.

“I can’t believe the cops didn’t show up,” he said, turning on his flashlight.

“That’s illegal, right?” Shiraishi asked.

Ogata yawned. “It might be, but they don’t care.”

“Whatever,” Sugimoto said dismissively. “I’ll probably regret saying this, but I think we should split up. We’ll cover more ground.”

“I’ll go with Ogata,” you blurted out.

Sugimoto’s millisecond of confused silence opened a window for Ogata to direct the hastily thrown together operation.

“We'll go further up the mountain and check the trails. You guys stay at this elevation and search the woods. I’m sure they got lost. I’d say let’s bet on it, but I know you’re all broke.”

Shiraishi nodded, but Sugimoto looked annoyed beyond belief. You watched as they melted away into the darkness eagerly awaiting your alone time with Ogata.

“It’s better if we both have one,” he said, handing you a flashlight. “You said my name pretty fast back there.”

Your palms began to sweat. You had been too eager.

“I don’t know,” you said, pushing a low hanging branch out of your face. “Shiraishi’s been getting on my nerves.”

You cringed at your lie. Hopefully Ogata would deem it inconsequential and forget you ever said it.

“Is he really that bad?”

“Uh, well, you know… He—sometimes it’s like he’s just so obnoxious.”

“He is pretty annoying. I don’t know how you put up with him.”

“I’m, um, just really good at tolerating people. It’s hard though.”

“You’re good at hiding it.”

You were good at hiding it because you loved having Shiraishi as a partner.

“Thank you.”

“It’s too bad we weren’t paired together. Sugimoto’s an asshole,” he sighed.

The two of you walked cautiously down the trail. You grew more and more nervous as it got steeper. Every twig felt like a landmine. You kept your eyes on the ground. It proved to be a terrible idea because you ended up walking right into Ogata. He fell forward, dropping his flashlight.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” you said, cradling him in your arms.

He looked up at you. His forehead and his arms were covered in swaths of raw skin and blood. He tried to get up, but only managed to roll onto the ground. You pulled off your sweatshirt and put it under his head as a makeshift pillow.

You dug through your backpack for your first aid kit. It was nearly empty already because your group of campers loved skinning their knees. You found a few alcohol wipes and some gauze. You wanted to punch your past self for not refilling it, but now wasn’t the time for self-flagellation.

“It’s gonna sting.”

“I’m not a child. You don’t need to remind me.”

“Damn, okay,” you said, cleaning the wound on his head.

“Sorry…” he mumbled.

It was just a superficial scrape, but of course the urge to spiral was present. Despite your attempts to be optimistic your mind went to the worst places. 

I gave him a traumatic brain injury. I cracked his beautiful skull. I killed him and Mr. Tsurumi is going to be so fucking mad at me!

“No. I’m sorry. I’m the idiot that made you fall.”

“Good point. I take back my apology.”

You slapped an alcohol wipe on one of the cuts on his arm. His pained groan was like an angel singing your name.

“What day is it?” you asked, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs.

“June 8th.”

“What’s the time?”

He paused. “I don’t know. It was around 10 when we left.”

“Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous? Sleepy?”

“No.”

“Do you remember what ha—”

“You shoved me and I fell.”

“Shove makes it seem like it was intentional.”

“It was.”

“No it was not.”

He sat up. “Yes it was. You shoved me because you have a huge crush on me and you can’t stand it.”

“You definitely damaged your brain. Like, you’re so unwell right now. It’s sick.”

He laughed. “Don’t deny it. You can be honest with me.”

“I was looking at the ground! There were exposed roots!”

He pulled his arm away from you and grabbed you by the jaw. “If that’s all it was, why do you look nervous?”

“That’s just my face.”

“It’s a cute one.”

You panicked and tried to think of a cool, couth response, but nothing came. You just sat there, brain filled with white noise. The air was heavy; you felt like you were choking. You kept your breathing steady, but it was a herculean effort. All your energy was going into keeping yourself in one piece. The longer those four words sank in, the harder it was to retain your humanity.

It’s a cute one. It’s a cute one. It’s a cute one.

Your hesitation evaporated and you clumsily kissed him. Despite his words he seemed unimpressed with your agency, giving nothing in return. And in turn you felt nothing. It was like you were holding him hostage rather than sweeping him off his feet.

“Um, we should… go back to camp.”

The relief you felt upon finding Sugimoto and Shiraishi was immense. However your fellow counselors remained missing. You couldn’t help but feel like you were hunting for ghosts.

I found I could extinguish all human hope from my soul

Much to the chagrin of Shiraishi, Tsurumi asked you to help Yūsaku and his twelve campers. It wasn’t ideal. Managing kids you weren’t familiar with was rough. They tested you left and right. They relished in lying about their names, snickering when you’d try to chastise them. They seemed to have a modicum of respect for Yūsaku though.

“How’s it going?” Shiraishi asked during your lunch.

“It’s—”

“Well I’m having a terrible time. These kids hate me. They keep asking when you’re coming back.”

You laughed. “Did you tell them never? Because I don’t see Tsurumi letting the golden boy stuck with a bunch of kids on his own.”

“It’s not like he needs you! I’m dying out there!”

“You have Sugimoto.” You sighed. “And Ogata.”

“They’re barely any help. Sugimoto’s too busy trying to solve a murder mystery like he’s Columbo. And Ogata’s too busy being his weird self. I think he’s pissed off at Hanazawa.”

You cocked an eyebrow.

“I don’t know why. Maybe he’s jealous that Hanazawa is—”

“Working with me?” you asked, your eyes full of stars.

“Psh. No. Part of me thinks Ogata just wants to be Tsurumi’s pet.”

 “Oh. No yeah, you’re right.” You stared off into space. “He totally wants to be the golden boy.”

“You’re both wrong.” Ogata silently took a seat next to Shiraishi. Your head was swimming. “I just hate being here.”

“Then why glare at your brother?” Shiraishi asked haughtily.

“Are you an only child, Shiraishi?”

“Probably.”

Ogata smirked and changed the subject. “How is working with him?”

His tone wasn’t threatening, but the flatness of his gaze made you feel like you were being interrogated.

“It’s fine!” you exclaimed a bit too hurriedly. You tried to save face by tempering your tone to match the coolness of Ogata’s. “I mean, yeah, like, it’s okay. The kids like him, which is good because they can’t stand me. I don’t mind him, you know, taking the lead. He is the lead counselor.”

“It looked like he was doing all the work.”

His words were a wasp’s sting.

“You’d be stupid not to take advantage of that dork,” Shiraishi said in an attempt to bandage your wound.

“I’m not taking advantage of him.”

“Shiraishi has a point.”

“No he does not!”

“You can admit it,” Ogata teased.

“There’s nothing to admit. What am I supposed to admit?”

He paused.

“You know you hate being here just as much as everyone else.”

You glared at Ogata. “If I hated being here, I would leave.”

“Sure you would.”

“Yeah! Exactly. I would.”

Shiraishi scurried away awkwardly, though to be honest you barely noticed.

“I don’t know,” he chuckled. “How can you be so sure of something like that?”

“Because—because I know myself? This isn’t, like, some hypothetical thing. If I didn’t want to be here, I would leave. But I’m invested in whatever the fuck is going on… And I like my kids! I care about them! Okay, not the ones I have right now. Honestly fuck those ki—oh god.”

Ogata was trying to hold back a laugh. “Child hater.”

“I don’t hate kids! Even kids that are little shits. I’m just…” You carefully chose your words. “Not fond of some.” You regained your conviction. “Regardless it’s not like I could ever leave any of them behind.”

“It’s so funny.”

You tilted your head, awaiting an elaboration.

“You all say the same thing. The way you say it is different, but—”

“What are you talking about?”

He stood up and patted you on the head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

You thought about chasing after him, but there was only ten minutes left of your lunch and you hadn’t even touched your food. You choked it down and searched for Yūsaku. You found him sitting in the grass, telling the kids one of his numerous summer camp tales.

“And that’s how I learned you should never eat mud.”

You joined their circle. “How was the jigen-ryū class?”

“Boring,” one chirped.

“Lame,” another admitted.

“I hate Mr. Koito.” one said bluntly. “Why does he scream so much?”

Yūsaku nervously chastised the kids.

You giggled. “That’s a great question. But I have an even better one: who wants to have a canoe race?”

The kids were eager for normalcy, typical summer fun, and you couldn’t blame them. You sought it yourself. Anything to shake off your conversation with Ogata. You felt like it poked holes in your brain. You hoped in utter desperation that the laughter of children and the afternoon sunlight dancing across Yūsaku’s precious face would fill them.

And for a brief moment they did. But Ogata remained a looming presence. He was so distracting you came dead last in the race. Your eyes couldn’t focus on anything other than him watching from a distance like a hunter.

A man who wants to mutilate himself is certainly damned

You went to bed early that night though you failed to drift away. You were in a fetal position, snuggled up in your sleeping bag, looking up at the Milky Way through your window for hours. You couldn’t get Ogata out of your mind.

“Idiot,” you murmured as you flipped over onto your back, not sure if you were calling him an idiot or yourself.

You stretched out and took up every inch of your bed. Your joints popped, the satisfaction from the sound soothed your soul. There was the chance this was as worse as it would get. Yes, people were dropping like flies, disappearing mysteriously. Yes, the camp director was a blatant freak. Yes, Ogata was fucking with your head. But the canoe race was normal! It was benign and expected! Those moments were few and far between so far. Maybe this was a good omen, a sneak peak of the placidity that was going to follow.

Pretending to be optimistic successfully lulled you to sleep. But rapid, and somehow pathetic, pounding on your cabin door ripped you from your slumber. You groaned audibly, hoping whoever was in desperate need of your attention would feel a semblance of shame. You got out of bed at a sloth’s pace and sighed before opening the door.

“Are you busy?” Ogata asked.

“I was sleeping.”

He gently pushed you out of the way and entered the cabin, a stiffness and urgency embodied in the swift movement. Your grip on consciousness was tenuous at best so you didn’t protest.

“Everything, uh, good?” you asked.

“If I said I wanted to apologize, would you believe me?”

You scoffed. “Not after asking me that.”

He sat down on your bed, and you struggled to hide your disgust. You couldn’t stop thinking about the fetid remnants of the woods that lingered on his sweatpants. Having him take them off crossed your mind.

“Well I am.”

“You’re what?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it… All the stuff I said.”

“You sure about that?”

He attempted to smooth down a strand of his hair. A hoarse mhm resonated in his throat.

“You’re so easy to rile up. I couldn’t resist.”

“Well,” you groaned. “Thanks. I guess.”

You figured he’d get up and leave, but instead his presence lingered, growing heavier by the second. His eyes were restless, his body tense.

“Do you mind if I stay the night?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the floor.

It was such an abrupt question. All you could do was choke out an affirmation. You knew kicking him out was the smart thing to do, but his perceived permanence on your bed overwhelmed you. The rational voice in your head grew fainter, your lust forcing its way through your papery veil of self-preservation. You were nothing more than your repressed urges.

“Are you sure?”

Dumb question. You’d never been so sure of something in your life. You couldn’t recall any form of previous trepidation though you weren’t trying particularly hard to do so.

“Yeah,” you answered, sitting beside him.

You leaned in. His sweatshirt smelled like wet leaves and copper. You used his thigh to steady yourself. He turned his head, his dark eyes looking through you. It was unnerving, but not enough to trigger common sense.

“Aren’t you hot?” you asked, laughing as the question tumbled from your mouth. His answer didn’t matter. “You’re making me sweat.”

You tugged at his sweatshirt. It felt dirty, heavy with sweat and earth. He took it off without a stitch of hesitation. Your eyes trailed down his arms, longing for them to be wrapped around you. It was the only way you’d make it through the night.

“I run cold,” he practically purred.

Cliche comments ran through your head.

That’s so funny because I could totally keep you warm, big boy.

I’m burning up, why don’t you cool me off with your stupid, gorgeous body?

“That’s cool.” Your brain shut down. “I want you.”

Your bluntness seemed to please him. His lips curled into a half smile before he pulled you into a kiss. He wasted no time, pushing his tongue past your teeth. He caressed your cheek as his tongue brushed up against yours, soft and warm. He pulled you onto his lap and rubbed the inside of your thigh with his rough hands. You tugged at his shirt, the cotton damp with sweat. He lifted it up and pulled it off, letting it drop on the floor.

“You should lie down,” you said, breath hot against his neck.

“Am I easier to take advantage of that way?”

“Excuse me?”

Your question went unheeded and he reclined on your bed, beckoning you to straddle him. You looked down at his body, muscles perfectly toned like they were crafted by the gods. He looked so pleased with himself, like he’d won an award. His cock was hard against the thin fabric of his sweatpants. It ached against you.

You studied his face. There were a few faint, red scratches across his cheek. You ran your thumb down one, feeling the slightly swollen skin. He winced.

“What happened?” you asked.

He exhaled. “I fell.”

“Like recently or?”

“On my way over.”

“How?”

His right eye twitched.

“I tripped,” he said, words clipped.

“On what?”

You never knew him to be clumsy, if anything he was rather feline in his agility. His fingers dug deeper into your hips before rolling you onto your back and getting on top of you. He pressed his rough palm over your lips.

“Hush.” His tone was nauseatingly sweet.

“I’m serious, are you okay?” you asked, voice muffled by his hand.

He titled his head and stared into your eyes with a calculated gaze.

“Isn’t it a little late for you to be so talkative?”

It was astounding how easy it was for him to shut you down. Granted you weren’t steadfast when it came to Ogata. You couldn’t take a firm stance. How could you hold onto a belief when you couldn’t predict his reaction to it? You wanted to be palatable and if that meant bending like a willow to his incomprehensible will then so be it.

“You’re so cute,” he said, removing his hand. “You’re like a scared deer.”

He lifted up the oversized t-shirt you liked to sleep in and pulled off your underwear. His fingers grazed your folds, coating them in your arousal. You swallowed hard, spit catching in your throat, as he slid them into your cunt. They curled inside you, pressing against your walls. The pressure made your skin tingle.

His gaze was attentive but cold. You felt studied, examined. It bred a twinge of looming uncertainty, one that settled in your stomach. But he didn’t hesitate with a remedy. He pushed his fingers as far as they could go and began fucking you with them. Your concern disappeared as fast as it came. Your eyes glazed over, ensnared by the man looming over you. You tried in vain to hold back your pleased whimpers.

He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re falling apart so fast.” His lips grazed your lobe.

Apologizing crossed your mind, but you kept your mouth shut. You writhed underneath his weight, rutting up against his fingers as they fucked your slick cunt.

Your hands wandered down his back. His skin was soft and sticky with sweat. You let your fingers trail down his spine before settling on the crest of his ass. You yanked down his briefs and dug your fingers into the taut flesh. He flashed an impish smile and pulled them down, kicking them off. The head of his cock was leaking precum. He tugged on it and bathed in your starved gaze.

“You want me so bad,” he said haughtily. “Tell me how bad you want me.”

You sighed as he jerked himself off. “I feel like I’ll die if you don’t fuck me.”

“Oh yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I need you.”

“Then beg for it,” he growled.

“Please. Please fuck me.”

He rubbed his cock up against your folds. “Say my name.”

“Please fuck me, Hyakunosuke. Please. Please. Please.”

He nuzzled your neck and pressed his cocktip against your clit. “More.”

You continued to plead, body aching for him to fuck you. He guided his cock inside you, its girth stretching your tight cunt. He groaned as he pushed it in further. His movements were slow, and he seemed to relish in your whimpering.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he commanded as he thrust into you.

“Really good. Really fucking good,” you babbled.

He let out a pleased sigh and fully submerged his length within you. His tip pressed up against your cervix, sending a shock to your core. You yelped as he pushed against it harder.

“Such a big cock for such a precious little thing.”

His thrusts drove you into the mattress, making your cot creak. His touch wasn’t gentle. He didn’t hesitate to bend your body to his liking, to show off his strength. It was deliciously overwhelming. He laced his fingers in your hair and pulled. He manhandled your legs to get them over his shoulders. You knew his force would leave blooms of bruises on your ankles, bruises you’d have to explain away when your friends inquired about your life after hours.

Being at his will was exciting.

“Do you like getting fucked like a whore?”

“Uh-huh,” you moaned.

He grinned. You wanted to lick his teeth, but settled for hugging his cock with your cunt.

“Fuck,” he hissed, jaw clenched. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

His pace quickened and his breathing grew labored. He seemed weakened by his impending climax. His eyes were softer, his words lacked their previous domineering weight. He looked like he was in agony. Seeing him fall apart made your clit throb. It was almost too much. Your body was immersed in euphoria, drowning in an obscene amount of debauched delight. To finally experience something you craved for so long was almost maddening. So many times you dreamt about him lording over your body under the serene light of the moon. And now you were living it out.

You wanted him to come first, to feel his cum flood your cunt, but your body wasn’t on the same page. Your impending climax was bubbling up inside you. Resisting it was a futile feat. What good was it to deny yourself such ecstasy?

“Harder,” you moaned.

He repositioned himself so he could drive his cock deeper in. You felt like you were going to burst. You dug your fingers into your mattress, gripping the tangled up sheets. The feeblest attempt to keep yourself tethered to this world lest you ascend to an Icarus end. Your back arched as a numinous groan crept up from the depths of your being, a simple carnal prayer. A cluster of whimpers followed in its wake.

Every inch of tension melted away as you let your orgasm consume you. You nearly forgot where you were until you heard Ogata’s pained voice.

“Where do you want it?” he asked urgently.

“Inside, inside,” you babbled.

He grimaced and pulled his cock out of your dripping cunt. He straddled your chest and held your head, forcing you to crane your neck. He pushed his cock past your lips and rutted against your face. His touch became gentle, hands almost cradling the base of your skull. He held you like you were fragile, like he could rip you to pieces if he lacked restraint.

“Look up at me,” he groaned as his cum splattered against the back of your throat.

You looked up at him, as he continued to thrust. Spurts of his piquant cum filled your mouth. You thought it would never end. Tears welled up in your eyes as his cum trickled from the corners of your mouth. Once his cock stopped twitching he placed his hand on your forehead and pushed you off. He then rolled over onto his back and stared blankly at the ceiling.

“Um,” you said, crashing back into reality. 

You hoped no one heard what happened. Your cabin was the one closest to the outskirts of everything, but still. Your cot’s incessant squeaking plagued you. Your breathy moans haunted you. Ogata’s audible grunting was a dark cloud swirling above your head. You missed your fucked out state of mind. You debated on chasing it. You thought about grabbing his semi-erect cock, but the feeling faded from your grasp. It didn’t help that he looked completely dissociated from the situation.

“Hyaku,” you paused, his first name felt too intimate, ”Ogata?”

You rolled over onto your side and placed your hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

“Sure,” he said before turning his back to you.

“Okay,” you replied, molding your body beside his.

You expected him to scoot away from you, or retire to the unforgiving floor. But instead he pressed himself up against you. You draped an arm over him and nuzzled your face against his undercut as you drifted away.

Life is the farce we are all forced to endure

Waking up alone wasn’t a surprise though it was still disappointing.

The sun roused you, making you painfully aware of your lack of clothes and the dried cum in the corners of your mouth. Visions of a relaxing shower danced through your mind. You could practically feel the steam surrounding you. However, leaving your cabin was precarious. No one could see you like this, skittering around and clutching your toiletries like they were gold. You’d wither away if perceived.

“I got this,” you whispered to no one in particular.

You stepped out into the morning light. It felt early. You didn’t hear any kids or any sort of chatter which was a relief. The outside world was safe; it was secure. You took a deep breath and took in the fresh air.

“Good morning.”

Your exhale lodged itself in your throat, forcing out a pathetic cough.

“Fuck. I mean good morning, Mr. Tsurumi.”

He looked tired, less triumphant, and part of you wondered if he was going to kill you.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be up this early.”

“I wasn’t expecting to be either,” you said, trying to mask your discomfort. “Anyway—”

He interrupted your attempt at a polite getaway. “How well do you know Yūsaku?”

“Uh. I guess about as well as you can know anyone given the amount of ti—”

“Did he seem unhappy? Dissatisfied?”

“That sunburn made him pretty miserable.”

He studied you. “Anything beyond that?”

“I—yeah no, I think that’s, uh, the only thing.”

“I see. Well I won’t keep you any longer.”

You simply smiled and nodded. Once he was out of sight you sprinted to the showers, eager for the cleanly embrace of its solitude. It was exactly what you wanted, what you needed. You needed to wash away whatever that conversation had been. You couldn’t figure out why he was so curious about Yūsaku. Your relationship with him was friendly but superficial. You wouldn’t know how to describe him in any meaningful way if prompted to, but made an attempt anyway.

He’s Ogata’s half-brother. He can tell two different stories about eating mud as a little kid. He sucks at putting on sunscreen. His eyelashes are pretty. He has a general golden boy vibe that is almost insufferably charming.

You knew essentially nothing. Whereas you could write an entire thesis regarding the random facts about Shiraishi you learned against your will.

You spent the entirety of your shower, wracking your brain over the camp director’s questioning. Unfortunately your brain wasn’t operating at full capacity. The night before lingered around you like a ghostly shroud. Your legs were peppered with bruises and your hips were sore. There were so many random aches echoing throughout your body.

By the time you were done the shrill voices of children flooded the camp. You hurriedly made your way back to your cabin, careful to avoid running into anyone. But despite the painstaking  care you took, there was Shiraishi pawing at your door anxiously like a dog.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

He didn’t bother answering your question. “They’re sending all the kids home.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yup. A few parents have already come by. Tsurumi wants to sit us all down and talk about what we’re gonna do.”

“We’re all going to leave, right?”

“Well we got all this shit here. The canoes. The food. The giant shogi pieces. All of that needs to get packed up probably. Do you think we’ll still get paid even if there’s no kids to watch?”

“I’d like to think so.”

“I heard something kinda messed up though.” You stepped closer to him and he continued, his voice low. “I overheard Koito saying some shit to Tsukishima about another body being found.”

“No,” you gasped.

“Yeah. They left maybe an hour ago. I doubt they’re coming back. I saw them pack—”

“Okay whatever. Whose body?”

Shiraishi shushed you. “Yūsaku’s.”

“Shut up.”

“Tsurumi found him hanging in the forest.”

“Like hanging out, right? With his brother maybe?” you asked desperately.

“Nope.”

“ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?”

“Relax! Maybe I heard wrong.”

You took a measured breath and distanced yourself from this loss. “It makes sense. Tsurumi was asking me about Yūsaku this morning. He wanted to know if Yūsaku was sad or, I don’t know, depressed I guess.”

“Did he seem—”

“No, but not all suicidal people act like outwardly suicidal.”

“So you think he killed himself?”

“Fuck no,” you sneered. “I bet Tsurumi did. That’s why he was asking me about him. He wanted to come up with an alibi, or a reason for Yūsaku to have done something like that.”

Shiraishi looked a little nervous. “Whoa, whoa. Let’s not jump the gun.”

You pushed him away from the door and dropped your stuff off. On the walk to the mess hall you watched as kids crawled into massive minivans and sleek electric cars. They were a resilient bunch. You admired their ability to withstand the trauma murder reaped. It sucked to see them go, but this camp was no place for their kind.

You felt oddly numb in the wake of Yūsaku’s apparent demise, especially as you sat amongst the camp’s dwindling numbers. It was just you, Shiraishi, Sugimoto, Ogata, and that freak Tsurumi. You all sat in a circle around an ashen fire pit, sipping coffee. It was bitter, the acidic taste boring holes through your tongue.

“It pains me to say this,” Tsurumi began.

“We all know about Yūsaku,” Shiraishi yawned.

His lack of tact made you want to crawl into your mug and drown.

“Oh, I wasn’t going to start off with that but…” He sighed. “As you all apparently know Yūsaku is no longer with us.”

“Did he go home?” Ogata asked.

“Shut up,” Sugimoto hissed.

Tsurumi ignored the chatter and continued. You struggled to focus. Your mind drifted off into fantasies of catching the camp director in the act and getting the hero treatment for saving the day. They were fun scenarios to entertain, but deep down you didn’t crave glory or even recognition. You just wanted to be right.

To no one’s surprise Tsurumi managed to convince everyone to stay one more night in order to return the camp to its previous barren state. It was depressing to snuff out the last remnants of the camp’s life, but necessary so Tsurumi could get back his security deposit. It was impressive to see how impermanent everything was. What took a week to create was dismantled within a day, a notion that haunted you to no end. You hated to think everything was so transient. It beckoned you to hold on tighter to your memories, to the bonds you fostered. If they were going to be ripped away, they would be marred with ghostly reminders of your feral grip.

Throughout the day you orbited around Ogata, searching for tasks that required you to be near him. Despite your attempts to be discreet, anyone with a brain could see your passive clinginess. You couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to ask if he was okay, but you didn’t want to risk an awkward conversation. When you finally built up the confidence to speak to him he was swept away by a bored sheriff wearing mirrored sunglasses.

“Wonder what they’re talking about,” Shiraishi said, startling you.

“Yūsaku obviously,” you scoffed as you swept the porch of a cabin. “Whatever. It’s not like I care.”

He laughed loud enough to grab the attention of the sheriff. Ogata was undisturbed.

“I feel bad for him.”

“Yeah?”

Shiraishi frowned. “Yeah, like his brother’s dead. He’s a total weirdo with no friends. And he’s short.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re shorter than him.”

“I am, but I’m sexy and have friends.”

Ogata was sexy, but you opted to keep that to yourself.

“Okay, and?” you said bristling with annoyance. “Go bother someone else.”

“I actually had a reason for bugging you. Sugimoto wants to make s’mores tonight because we have a bunch of marshmallows. I was thinking we could turn it into a mini party.”

“A final hurrah.”

“Exactly!” he said as he walked away.

S’mores and cold beer sounded nice, but not nearly as nice as another night with Ogata. You watched as he stared lazily at the sheriff, his posture loose and mildly defiant. He wasn’t naive enough to believe Yūsaku hung himself. He must have caught onto how strange Tsurumi was. There was no way he hadn’t. He was perceptive. You couldn’t help but feel as though you were kindred spirits.

When the sheriff finally left you decided to approach him.

“Hey,” you said gently. “I just wanted to, you know…uh. I’m really sorry about your brother.”

“Why? Did you make him kill himself?” he said, his gaze friendly yet cold.

You laughed and shifted uncomfortably.

“I just wanted to see if you were okay. Is there anything I can do?”

“Hmm. I don’t know.” He closed the distance you kept. “How far are you willing to go to comfort me?”

“A normal amount. If you need to talk or anything, I don’t mind listening.”

“Would you mind choking on my cock again? I found that to be very soothing.”

Ogata’s words were grotesque rather than alluring. You couldn’t help but feel like he was just trying to scare you off. His vulgarity lacked any sort of intensity. The threat was hollow. You swallowed hard and tried to look less timid.

“Don’t be an asshole. If you need to talk, you know where to find me.”

He looked thoroughly amused. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You patted his shoulder with a platonic, heavy hand and headed off in a random direction. You were too frazzled to think that far ahead, but you walked into the woods with faux confidence.

All filthy memories fade out

You sighed in relief as the sun sunk into the horizon. Making s’mores and getting drunk by a fire sounded like the only suitable end for such a horrific venture. Shiraishi and Sugimoto met you by your cabin and aided you in crafting a fire pit.

“It’s so fucked up we never made these with the kids,” Sugimoto sighed, puncturing three marshmallows with a two-pronged skewer specially made for the act.

You sipped your beer. “We failed them.”

Shiraishi nodded. “We may be the dream team, but we weren’t perfect.”

“The what?!” Sugimoto struggled not to laugh as he crafted a picturesque s’more.

“Wh—who? Who’s the dream team?” you asked.

“Us! Me, you, and Sugimoto… obviously.”

“I had no idea.”

“I never said it out loud until now,” Shiraishi said solemnly.

It was hard to deny. The chaos that was camp proved to be a great conduit for bonding despite the horrors. You never would have made it through without Shiraishi’s humor and Sugimoto’s kindness.

“Dream team, huh?” Sugimoto said with a smile blooming across his face.

You punched Shiraishi in the arm. “Cute. I like it.”

Shiraishi blushed and shifted his gaze to the case of beer.

“How does the dream team feel about shotgunning some beers?”

Shotgunning some beers turned into shotgunning several. Stabbing the cans and chugging like your life depended on it was addicting. By the end of it you were all in a hazy trance. You collapsed down into your chair with too much vigor, sending yourself backwards into the dirt. You cackled like a witch.

“Holy shit! Are you okay?” Sugimoto asked. He was unable to hide his amused smile.

He held out his hand and hoisted you up. Shiraishi watched on, tears in his eyes, and stabbed another beer with his pocket knife. Beer spurted out of the hole and it sprayed all over. A dramatic “noooooooooo!" erupted from him as he tried in vain to suckle the rest of the beer out of the can. Sugimoto could barely hold himself together and lost his balance, sending you back into the unforgiving dirt and landing directly on you. His body was so heavy you thought you were going to suffocate. Luckily he rolled off of you within a second, wheezing with laughter.

The comedy of errors was too much. Not a single one of you went unscathed.

“I’m so sorry,” Sugimoto choked out.

You stood up and brushed the dust off of your body. “It’s okay. I’m alive. I made it. I survived.”

“You know,” Sugimoto said, still sitting in the dirt. “I’m really gonna miss you guys.”

“We’ll have to meet up again before summer ends.”

Shiraishi wiped the beer from his lips. “That’s assuming we live.”

“Dude! Not funny.” Sugimoto threw an empty can at Shiraishi. It missed.

“I’ll probably die next,” you replied thoughtfully. “Tsurumi’s gonna catch on and have to silence me.”

“Stop!”

Shiraishi corrected you. “No, no. It’ll be me.”

“Yeah, you know what. It’ll be Shiraishi, and then you. And then me.”

Shiraishi pouted. “What makes you so sure you’ll live the longest?”

“I’m immortal, dumb ass.”

“If you’re immortal, why not protect us?” you suggested.

“Yeah!”

“I’ll obviously do that! That goes without saying!”

You looked at him, doe-eyed. “Promise?”

He stood up, his balance shakier than ever. It didn’t inspire much confidence in his ability to protect you, but you chose to believe in his conviction.

“As long as I am here, neither of you will die. I… I love you guys s—so much.”

“Don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll cry. And I hate crying in the woods.”

You heard rustling in the distance. Sugimoto and Shiraishi didn’t seem to notice so you chalked it up to your intoxication. You focused your attention on the delightful little bars of artisan chocolate Yūsaku bought for the kids. Your stomach had been growling, begging for something other than beer.

“Gimme the stick thingy,” you barked at Sugimoto.

“Is that any way to ask me for something?”

“You’re talking like a caveman.”

You groaned. “Please give me a, uh,” you gestured towards the skewer resting at Sugimoto’s feet, “that item. Please, good sir.”

Shiraishi applauded your efforts like a real friend and spoke words of affirmation as you struggled to make a s’more. Neither of them stepped in to help you. They appeared to find your tribulation much too entertaining, and you were much too drunk to ask for assistance. However you managed to make four. The sloppiness didn’t detract from the flavor which was all that mattered.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Shiraishi said. “I don’t know about you guys but I’m tired.”

Sugimoto stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “Yeah, I have a long drive tomorrow. I’m not trying to fall asleep at the wheel.”

It was almost painful to part ways. A little sliver of you was afraid to enter your cabin on your own. You knew there was no reason to be scared. It wasn’t as if Tsurumi was hiding inside, waiting for the perfect opportunity to stab you. There was no way he could have snuck past you, Shiraishi, and Sugimoto. One of you would have seen him, or at the very least heard him.

Your heart began to pound. You had heard something lurking about in the woods. It very well could’ve been him. Maybe you were too drunk to be vigilant and maybe Tsurumi took advantage of that. Your hand trembled as you reached for the doorknob. Your fear was heavy and looming. It was like you were slowly being crushed. Every inhale felt like it was catching in your throat. You slowly twisted the knob and pressed your weight up against the door.

“Hello?” you asked as if an assailant would actually respond.

You flipped the switch and your room was filled with soft, incandescent light. There was no one in sight, not a soul. The relief you felt was almost overwhelming. Your terror was replaced by a pleasant drowsiness. Sleeping through the night with no interruptions wouldn’t be a pipe dream.

And it seemed to be going along quite well…

Until you had to pee of course. The urge hit you like a truck. You sprung up out of bed and ran all the way to the bathroom, hoping you’d make it in time. You regretted drinking so much. If it hadn’t been for the beer you might have gotten an uninterrupted six hours.

Luckily you made it to the bathroom in time, but on your walk back you became keenly aware of the fact you were still quite drunk.

“Ughhhhhhhhhhh,” you moaned as you trudged back.

You passed Tsurumi’s cabin and it triggered a deep desire to indulge in some snooping. Moonlighting as a drunk detective seemed like an incredible idea.

There were no lights on in his cabin, which wasn’t odd considering it was the middle of the night. But everything seemed vaguely ominous given your state of mind and your desire to prove he was the murderer. You peeked in his window and saw him sleeping. He was face down, body spread out like a starfish.

“What a freak.”

“You’re the one watching him sleep.”

You spun around and saw Ogata. You opened your mouth to scream but he covered it. His hand was damp and smelled like soap. He looked unkempt, and seemed a little frazzled.

“I can explain,” you whispered.

“Are you drunk?”

“Maybe. Listen!”

He shushed you and grabbed you by the wrist. He dragged you away from Tsurumi’s window.

“Can I talk now?” You didn’t wait for an answer. “I think Tsurumi is killing everyone.”

He looked thoroughly amused. “What makes you so sure—”

“He’s a total fucking weirdo, Ogata! He, you know, like… Okay, I don’t have solid proof. But he did ask me about your brother. He was like ‘Ohhh, do you think Yūsaku was suicidal? Did he seem like a little sad boy with little sad boy problems?’ And I was like, ‘No.’ And he was like all… whatever.” You hiccuped. “Why would he ask me that if he wasn’t trying to find a way to cover up his crime?”

“You did work with Yūsaku. I don’t think it’s weird that Tsurumi would ask you about him. If I were him, you would be one of the first people I’d talk to.”

“Ogataaaaaaaaaa,” you whined. “Don’t be a shit.”

“All I’m saying is the two of you seemed close.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

“I think he had a crush on you,” he teased.

“He didn’t.”

“I wouldn’t blame him for having one.”

You gave up on protesting. It wasn’t like he was actually listening to you. You turned your gaze towards the ground. It was then you noticed what looked like rusty stains on his shoes.

“You really shouldn’t wear white shoes.”

He looked confused.

“Yours are always s—so dirty.”

He stared down at his shoes and smiled. “I like them this way.”

You shrugged. “Anyway. I think Tsurumi poisoned Tanigaki with mushrooms.”

“What about Inkarmat? Usami? Vasi—”

“When did they find Usami and Vasily?!”

He paused. “They didn’t. I thought maybe you had an explanation for them going missing.”

“Oh. No. I haven’t really thought about them. Is that fucked up?”

“A little, but I like it when you’re fucked up.”

He leaned in and slipped his tongue into your mouth. You tried to let yourself fall into the moment, to let yourself be enraptured by him once more. But you felt uneasy. A part of you was screaming at you to stop. Your entire body tensed up and you pushed him away.

“Not here,” you sighed.

“Why not?” he said, rubbing the small of your back.

“What if someone sees?”

“There’s no one to see us.”

With your luck Shiraishi and Sugimoto would see you wrapped up in Ogata’s arms and never let you live it down. A greater horror would be Tsurumi catching you. He would have no issue disposing you.

Ogata didn’t share this concern. He simply shoved his fingers down your shorts and rubbed your clit through your underwear.

“You don’t need to be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid. I don’t want to get caught.”

“Hmm,” he purred as he nuzzled his face in your neck. “Getting caught could be fun. We could finally reveal our true nature.”

His wording puzzled you.

“Wait, what true nature? That we’re fucking?” you asked.

“Don’t play dumb.”

He let his fingers graze your cunt. His touch was hypnotic. You felt like you were melting in his arms. The world around you faded away, your concerns were nonexistent. Everything was a distraction queued for destruction. He kissed your neck, his stubble tickling you. You felt his teeth graze your skin. A smile crept across your face as he bit into it. Your knees buckled as he bit down a little harder. Your head was spinning.

“I need to taste you,” he said against your neck, pulling down your clothes.

The night air was brisk against the skin of your ass. He kissed the nape of your neck as he hands traveled down your waist, stopping at the dip of your hips. He got on his knees and stared up at you, eyes dark with ardor, before giving your clit a languid lick.

He lapped at your cunt like a starved animal. It was like he was trying to consume you. You felt so desired, so adored. His tongue was dizzying. You nearly lost your balance as he buried his face in between your thighs. He grunted and gripped your ass to steady you.

You gasped as he dug his fingers deeper into your skin. His sweetness was always tinged with a little cruelty. You felt like you were falling in love with him whenever he was rough with you. Your pleasure seemed endless. It was something to get lost in. He shielded you from the tragedy that had overtaken your life.

You ran your fingers through his hair. “You’re so good at this.”

“I know,” he groaned.

His haughtiness was unfortunately warranted. He could work wonders with his mouth. He rolled his tongue against your throbbing clit. Your knees trembled as your orgasm began to bloom. You tried to speak but all you could do was whimper his name. You felt like you were floating away.

Moaning soon became the only thing you were capable of doing. Your body was limp and swollen with lust. The only reason you were upright was because of Ogata’s steadying grip.

“Are you really going to come already?” he teased.

“Yes!” you choked out.

He held your clit between his lips and sucked. Your head rolled back and you murmured a string of obscenities. Euphoria wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the heights you were ascending to. You drenched his face with your arousal as your orgasm echoed through you.

“Sor—”

Your demure apology was interrupted by a pained moan coming from the distance. You crashed back down to earth.

“Did you hear that?” you asked.

Ogata didn’t respond. He simply stood up and wiped his chin.

“Let me walk you back to your cabin.”

“Uh, yeah sure. But did you hear that? It sounded like a person.”

“I didn’t hear anything. Your paranoia is getting the best of you.” He grabbed you by the hand. “Come on.”

He didn’t say a single word on the walk back. He didn’t even look at you. You felt like a ghost.

“Thanks… for escorting me.”

“It’s no problem,” he said with a smile.

You were convinced you would never fully understand him, that he would always keep you on your toes. And maybe that was the appeal. It was a danger you didn’t mind dancing with, something low stakes in comparison to people getting fucking murdered.

With my eyes closed I offered myself to the sun

It was your final day and you jumped at the opportunity to interrogate Tsurumi. It didn’t matter if you were the only one that thought he was the cause of all the camp’s calamity. The lack of faith from your friends didn’t deter you in the least. You knew you were right and soon everyone else would know as well.

“What the?”

You saw a heap in the distance, something keeled over just beyond the trees. The sun sliced through them, drowning whatever it was in unforgiving light. You heard the faint buzzing of flies and your stomach dropped. The familiar sensation of spit pooling in your mouth triggered a lethal anxiety within you.

Every step you took made you more and more nauseous. A horrid smell swarmed your nostrils. You couldn’t help but gag.

“No,” you said quietly, looking down at the heap.

It was Sugimoto, face down. His arms were stretched in front of him, fingers caked with dirt.

“Saichi, get up.” You squatted beside him. A prayer circle of jet black ants surrounded his body. “Get up. You’re supposed to keep me and Shiraishi safe, remember?”

There was no hope and yet you tried to hold onto it. You wanted to roll him over, thinking maybe you could rouse him. You saw it in movies all the time, the classic fake-out death trope. You’d slap him around, maybe yell and cry a bit, and his eyes would flutter open. He would apologize for worrying you and you’d tease him for how rank he smelled.

“Oh fuck!” you screamed as you rolled him onto his back.

His chin was coated with dried blood. His stomach had been cut open, entrails butchered and hanging out. You looked just beyond his body and saw a trail of blood and intestines. You started to sob. Sugimoto didn’t deserve to suffer such a heinous demise. Why couldn’t Tsurumi have just killed him outright? Why did he have to exercise his will with such cruelty? You hated him and his flagrant barbarity. Your rage washed over you. The desire to throw yourself over his mauled body and wail was extinguished.

“I’m so sorry,” you cooed, stroking his hair. “Tsurumi’s not getting away with this.”

In order to properly avenge Sugimoto you needed Shiraishi, but you didn’t even know if Shiraishi was alive. You grabbed Sugimoto’s pocket knife and bolted to Shiraishi’s cabin. You kicked the door in and all you saw was an unmade bed, empty bags of marshmallows, and all of his belongings scattered around an empty duffle bag.

You kept running out of sheer desperation, searching Shiraishi’s usual haunts to no avail. He must have been killed too, another counselor disappeared by that freak Tsurumi.

Your bravado began to melt away. The more you thought about it the more you realized you likely couldn’t hold your own against Tsurumi. You were nothing without the dream team.

There was always Ogata, but if Sugimoto was slain by Tsurumi with such ease then Ogata didn’t stand a chance. You were enshrouded in a sinking loneliness. It made every step an ordeal but you continued your march to Tsurumi’s cabin.

Your head was swimming by the time you got there. You didn’t even notice the door was already open. As you stepped inside you heard a series of loud, wet thwacks.

“Wh—what are you doing?”

Ogata stood over Tsurumi’s twitching body, bashing in his skull with the butt of his own shotgun. Pale foam seeped from his parted lips. You watched in horror as his face gradually became unrecognizable carnage with each of Ogata’s blows.

“Why?” you squeaked.

“What do you mean why? I did this for you.”

“This is not what I wanted.”

“Yes it is. You thought he was killing all your friends and it bothered you enough that you whined to me about it.”

“I didn’t tell you those things because I wanted you to kill him! Fuck! Now the cops are going to think you killed everyone!”

He cocked his head to the side and stared at you. You froze in place like a deer in front of a speeding truck. He looked gutted.

“I did kill everyone.”

You bursted into laughter. “No you fucking didn’t.”

“Yes I did.”

“Stop it! No you didn’t!”

He stepped over Tsurumi’s corpse, gun still in his hand. You backed out the door, trying to keep distance.

“Yes I did,” he said. In the sunlight you saw how much of Tsurumi’s blood ended up on him. He was dappled with crimson splotches. “That’s why you told me about Tsurumi. You wanted him gone and you knew I’d take care of it.”

Your mouth was agape. You refused to believe him.

“You—you’re not serious. Please tell me you’re not serious. Please.”

“I’m se—”

“No! Shut up! You didn’t do it. You didn’t do any of it. You… You couldn’t. Right? Right?!”

His disappointment was palpable.

“Why are you acting like this? You knew what you were doing when you talked to me about him.”

“I never said I wanted you to kill him! I never fucking said that!”

“Stop screaming. I’m right here.”

Your eyes were becoming glassy. Tears were imminent. 

“I never said that,” you said quietly.

“You didn’t have to. I knew what you wanted. We see things the same way. You hated all of them as much as I did.”

“What? I didn’t hate any of them.”

“Oh so you liked Usami?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I wanted him dead.”

He sighed heavily. “You don’t need to pretend anymore. They’re all gone.”

“Pretend? I’m not pretending.”

“Drop the act. I didn’t mind it before, but now there’s no reason for you to hide yourself from me.”

Everything was spinning around you. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. It was absurd for him to think you harbored as much hatred as he did. Sure, some of your fellow counselors got on your nerves, but being annoying wasn’t a death sentence.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not hiding anything.”

He tried to pat down his unruly lock of hair. “So you’re saying I’m wrong? You’re nothing like me?”

“Yes! I could never dream of being as monstrous as you! How fucked up do you have to be to decide you can just kill people for, I don’t know, being annoying or stupid or whatever?”

“It’s not like I intended on killing everyone. I just wanted Yūsaku gone, but then I caught Tanigaki and Inkarmat 69ing by the lake and it spiraled from there.”

“Th—that’s why you killed them?”

“It was disgusting, okay.”

“Was it more disgusting than what we did?”

He glared at you. “What we did wasn’t disgusting. Tanigaki and Inkarmat didn’t actually care about each other.”

“You don’t know that.”

“They barely knew each other. You can’t like someone that much after, what, a week?”

“Does that mean we don’t like each other?”

“No!” He took a measured breath and regained composure. “It’s different with us. You know me. You understand me.”

“I don’t understand you at all.”

“But you were… so nice to me.”

Neither of you spoke. The only sound was the wind cutting through the trees. You thought back to old conversations you had with him and tried to see where your ignorance blinded you. There were plenty of times you should have known it was Ogata, but you were so caught up in blaming Tsurumi for everything.

It was hard to reconcile the man you had your heart set on was a cold blooded killer. You wanted your feelings to subside, but they remained despite his horrendous crimes. Part of you needed to fix him, to save him from himself. Maybe if you had caught on sooner you could have stopped him. There were so many what-ifs running through your mind you almost forgot where you were.

“Did it not mean anything to you?” he asked.

“What?”

“Being nice to me. Was it an obligation?”

“No. I think… most people deserve kindness.”

“Even someone like me?”

You tried to ignore the shotgun in his hand. “Yes… especially you, Hyakunosuke.”

“After everything I’ve done?”

“Ye—yes.”

“Liar.”

He aimed the gun under his chin and pulled the trigger. You tried to catch him in your arms, but you weren’t strong enough to carry that weight. You fell to your knees and cradled him. His face was nothing but an open wound. You wept as his blood seeped into your clothes.

“You were never an obligation.” 

You wiped away your tears and got his blood in your eye. It burned, but it was nothing compared to the sinking feeling in your heart.

“Holy shit!!”

Shiraishi came barrelling out of the woods. His lip was busted and he had dried blood under his nose.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?” 

Shiraishi kneeled in front of you. You looked down and noticed his hand was resting in what used to be Ogata’s face.

“Shiraishi, your hand.”

He fell backwards and kicked himself away from Ogata’s corpse. He wiped his hand in the dirt.

“He, uh, didn’t hurt me. I’m fine… I thought you were dead.”

“Nah. I just let him beat the shit out of me and pretended to be dead. I didn’t think he’d fall for it. Have you seen Sugimoto?”

“He… he didn’t make it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Shiraishi helped move Ogata off of you. He looked horrified once he saw how much of Ogata’s blood had ended up on you. The coppery scent was impossible to ignore.

You were thankful Shiraishi was still alive. He took charge for a change, deciding your best course of action was to go to the mess hall and contact the authorities. It wasn’t until you got there that he realized his phone was dead. You both sat in silence as it charged.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked after checking his battery life.

You nodded.

“Did you like Ogata?”

You didn’t want to admit it. You couldn’t imagine a world where Shiraishi would understand the complexity of your feelings. He never liked Ogata in the first place.

You tried to slaughter the sentimental romantic inside you. You thought about how mean Ogata could be, the awful things he’d say to you. You thought about Sugimoto and how he tried to drag himself to your cabin despite being gutted like a fish.

“No,” you scoffed. 

Ogata was right. You were a liar.

#ogata hyakunosuke x reader #ogata x reader #golden kamuy x reader #golden kamuy smut #ogata smut #reader insert #x reader #.fics #.gk #.ogata

[s-4pphics]

dial. 5 (e.w.)

wc;cw: 3.9k, fratadjacent!ellie, all ocs r black coded<3, angst, weed, nun crazy… yet😝😝😝😝

SEVEN MONTHS LATER 

You’re finally a fucking senior! Joy to the queer world! 

After barely surviving your last term due to heartbreak and an intense depressive episode, the future ahead of you brightened the second you stepped into your aunt's home. Your summer was the highlight of your year… maybe even your life. What had you done in your past life to be blessed with such an amazing auntie? 

She took you any and everywhere you wanted to go. You never imagined Iceland would be the home country you wished to be born in. The mountains, the bright green grass, the fucking waterfalls you only dreamt of diving into. You became a mermaid the second you and Niah jumped into the Reykjadalur River. 

Every fiber of your being rejuvenated after your much needed break, and you were ready to get through your last year without chips on your shoulder. Fuck everyone from your past!

Moving in was always the worst part of the year. As much as you loved decorating, you never fully threw yourself into it until your third week on campus. Your fairy lights would have to sit in their box until you got your schedule in order. 

You and Niah trekked back and forth from your dorm to your auntie’s truck, hauling in box after box until your arms burned. Your back was already killing you. 

“Fucking son of a bitch— “

You interrupted Niah’s exhausted exclamations, “Swear ja— “

“Bitch, fuck you! I'm grown!” She dropped the last box near your work desk before slumping onto your chair. 

“Alright, my loves!” Your aunt entered your shared room with bags of new bedding. “This is the last of it. Need help making your bed?” 

You blankly stared at your aunt, and she smiled slyly, “Don’t look at me like that! You’re my baby!” 

You shook your head, snagging the neatly wrapped blankets from her hands, tossing them to the floor and engulfing her in the tightest hug you could muster. 

“I love you,” you mumbled into her shoulder. 

“I love you, baby. You’re almost done, you got this,” she kissed your cheek a dozen times before pulling back to plant more on your forehead. And nose. 

“Want me t’walk you out?” 

“I got it. Unpack and get comfy. I’ll see you in a couple months, okay?” She bopped your nose and you nodded, embracing her one last time before seeing her out. Niah gave her a goodbye hug and watched her dodge exhausted bodies down the hallway. 

Niah helped you set up your mattress topper and stuffed your pillow cases before your phone vibrated in your pocket. 

“Dina’s having din-din downstairs in a feeew,” you sing-songed, “Come with us?” You gave Niah the best puppy dog eyes you could muster, her lips pursing as she glared at you. 

“Girl… Y’all always wanna do shit when I’m fucking tired— “

“Pleeease.”

She sighed heavily before conceding, “If that bitch show up, I swear to god— “

“Dina wouldn’t let that happen,” you defended. 

“Oh, she wouldn’t? Really?” Niah scowled. 

“Stop,” you huffed in agitation, “Nothing that happened was her fault. She did what she could at the time.” 

Niah and Dina never explained to you why their relationship rifted, but you could only assume that it was due to you and Ellie falling out. They haven’t spoken since the beginning of summer, according to Niah, and it upset you greatly. You all used to fall asleep on the phone together every night during your scheduled breaks, and now you were hesitant to have them in the same room. 

You were never against Dina and Ellie being friends, even after she blew up on you; They grew up right next to each other, for fucks sake! They’ve always had a strong bond, and not even Dina’s loyalty to you would ruin that. Niah would just have to understand. 

Your best friend rolled her eyes, but dropped the tensity in her shoulders. 

“I’m not eating.” 

You pouted. 

“I don’t care about that,” she pointed at your stuck-out lip, “Get my purse.” 

The booth you shared with your friends in the dining hall was tense. 

You awkwardly forked your pasta while Niah and Dina stared at each other. You didn’t notice any hatred in their gaze, but the fire was there without a doubt. 

This was the worst dinner ever. 

“Sooo…” you twirled your noodles, “How was your summer, Dee!” 

“Fine.” 

Your bright smile dropped at her empty response, but you tried again. 

“Cool! Did anything exciting happen? I saw you and Jess traveled a bit!”

“We did.” 

Your eyes flickered between your two friends, their eyes distant. 

“Guys, c’mon! This is so stupid!” You nearly threw your fork on your plate. “Why are y’all even mad at each othe— “

“I’m not fucking mad— “

“Ask her that— “

Both friends brushed you off in their fit of rambles, and you exploded. 

“CAN Y’ALL STOP!” 

Neighboring students began to stare at all three of you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

“I don’t fucking care about Ellie anymore! I’m over it! It’s a new fucking year and I wanna move on, but I can’t if y’all keep bringing it up every time you see each other!” Niah tried to interrupt, but you cut her off with a stern finger. 

“I know why you’re mad and I appreciate you for caring, but Dina didn’t do anything wrong! You’re taking your anger out on the wrong person!” You took some breaths through your nose to calm yourself.

“I don't wanna see y’all fighting over this bullshit anymore. I mean it! Or we’re…” you looked between them with a harsh glare. “We’re gonna have a problem.” 

Moments of thick silence passed before you heard a gentle snicker. Followed by a snort. 

Boisterous laughter escaped both your friends while you stared in confusion. 

“What’s so funny?” 

Niah clapped her hands in hysteria. 

“Who the fuck are you tryna intimidate— “

“She pulls one little prank and suddenly her balls dropped. How cute! —“

Your head jerked in Dina’s direction, “Wait—” 

“Oh! You thought I didn’t know about that shit? Seriously?” Dina wiped away tears, “You’re nasty, by the way.” 

Heat washed over your entire body at her smirk and arched brow, “My baby’s a fucking freak! Who woulda thought.” 

Niah muttered whores around her straw with a shake of her head. 

“… You still got the vid, or.” 

“DINA!” 

More laughter erupted from your table, and your arms folded across your chest. Dina’s hand met Niah’s from across the table in a high five. 

“She does still have it, not gon’ lie— “

“SHUT UP, NIAH!” 

The second Ellie saw you, Niah, and Dina laughing through the windows of the canteen, she hit the fastest fucking U-turn of the century. Her appetite dissipated in an instant and she booked it towards the parking lot and into her car. 

She hated the physical reaction that took over her body whenever she saw you, the only thought on her mind being run, run, run. 

After her last… encounter with you and fucking Abby, she made a request to move to the complete opposite side of campus. She packed all her belongings and was out of her and Jesse’s shared place in the nick of time, surrounded by faces she wasn’t used to. The thought of switching schools raced through her mind days after it happened, but when she realized that you hadn’t had plans to broadcast your porno across the campus’ Snapchat, she was at ease.

At least for a little bit. 

Telling Dina and Jesse was, by far, one of the worst parts of this whole experience. 

She hadn’t mustered up the courage to do it until two months later when Abby brushed past her with a mere nod of acknowledgment at a house party. Her hazy mind thought that coming clean would erase some of the guilt she felt, but it was all for naught. 

All she got was a theoretical pie thrown at her face when both her best friends' exploded into the biggest laughing fit, she’d ever seen from them. They knew she deserved all the smoke she got from you and Abby after everything she did, and despite her attempts at being prideful, she knew she did too. 

You never came along when Ellie was around for the remainder of the term, and she didn’t know whether to be thankful or full of fucking shame. It became a bit of both overtime. 

She’d only seen you once after the sextape fiasco. It was during move-out week: your face was droopy and tired—probably due to finals— as you and your family hauled box after box into a truck. 

Ellie hadn’t had a reaction to anyone like that since her first fucking girlfriend. The sweaty hands, the swirls in her tummy, the jitters of her fingers. It all came back to her and she wanted to vomit. 

Looking as cuddly as you did that day shouldn’t be allowed. Ellie knew she didn’t deserve a hug from you, but she allowed her imagination to take over anyway, her subconscious completely engulfed by your scent and forgiveness. 

Ellie’s head rested on her steering wheel, her head banging against it and accidentally sounding the horn. 

Ellie’s never been in a relationship with someone who wasn’t selfish. She allowed people to take and take and take so much from her in the past, gladly accepting their overstepping and lack of boundaries if it meant she received their affection. It went on for so long until it abruptly halted and left her destroyed and alone. Her heart iced over after her last relationship went up in flames, and she vowed to keep it that way. If there’s no love, there’s no heartbreak. 

She thought she could do that to someone else. Prey on someone as sweet and comforting as you. 

But it didn’t work. You fucking cracked her. You’re a witch, and your pussy is godsent. 

Ellie brought out that side of you and she regretted it (despite the jerks in her clit every time she reminisced about your glittery tears), and she owed you the most respectable apology she’s ever given.

Ellie reached into her hoodie pocket and pulled up her phone, messages filled with students asking if she’s around to sell. She ignored them all and searched for your contact that she selfishly never deleted. 

Her thumb hovered over the unblock button. 

Ellie’s heart is racing and she thinks she might pass out. 

She got used to hearing the small ding from the bell of the Starbucks entrance that she hardly ever looks up at who’s waltzing in. 

When she heard you and your best friend’s laughter, she almost dropped to the floor to hide behind the service counter. She was not fucking prepared to see you. Nausea and butterflies stirred in her gut at the sound of your giggles. 

H-Have a good day, she cringed when her voice cracked, scribbling the customer's names on their cup before passing it down to the mixing station. 

The minutes that passed felt like years, endless seconds of anticipation of seeing you face to face for the first time in months. Her eyes scattered to the end of the lines where the two of you stood every two seconds, observing how you inched up the line. 

Until the two of you stood in front of her, Niah’s intense glare searing through her skin and shaking her bones. She shakily asked for both your orders, but you took over, answering for you and your roommate with your classic smile. You’re too sweet for your own good; She couldn’t imagine being this cordial in public with someone who did what she did. Said what she said. 

You looked fucking adorable: hair twisted, dangly earrings, glossy lips. Her hands wouldn’t stop as she scribbled your name on your cup and cake pop baggie. 

Niah was fucking grilling her, and rightfully so. Ellie’s shocked she didn’t reach over and strangle her with her bare hands. Her presence was a threat on its own, Jesus Christ. 

You swiped your student ID and yanked a stiff Niah by the arm over to the pick-up line, the wind sitting in Ellie’s lungs finally releasing. 

She peered over at the two of you as she collected the rest of the orders from caffeine-withdrawal students, anxiety pitting in her gut when she watched you snag your cup and bag, reading the messy scribbles she left at the bottom.  

hi. can we talk when you’re ready?

You had enough courtesy to hide the baggie from an already pissed Niah, and she was grateful. It gave her an inkling of hope before you frowned, your eyes surprised, then confused. Then angry. 

Ellie almost cried at the scoff that left your mouth when you shot her a pissed glare, before you snatched your dessert from its encasing, crumpled the paper and threw it into the trash by the exit. She watched the two of you leave with a heavy heart, embarrassment overtaking her when you refused to look back. 

Ellie couldn’t shake the feeling that you experienced this same disappointment whenever she shut you down previously, and it made her feel even worse. 

Ellie started seeing you everywhere you went after that: in the quad, on the way to class, even in the fucking library (a place she never went!), but you never seemed to notice her. She hadn’t been in the study center since she was a fucking sophomore, and she instantly remembered why when she caught a glimpse of you in your own world, headphones on as you scribbled down your notes. 

Remorse flooded her gut when she remembered the time, she dismissed your proposal of listening to a playlist you made for her a couple days after you fucked a couple times. She didn’t even know what artists you liked. 

Even after all this time, she refused to forget all the times she upset you, intentionally or not. 

The twisted part of her brain was already prepared to march over and speak with you, but she had enough sense to overpower her selfish desires. 

She managed to get past you without hassle, rushing onto the elevator to find her usual spot in the second-floor corner. It was her safe place whenever she came in here; She’ll never forget when she and Dina tripped balls atop the beanbags pressed up against the window. 

Going to the library was pointless; The thought of you and your sprinkled cupcakes dominated her mind for the rest of her study session. 

It was the best part of the entire year. 

The month of October has its own presence: it’s grand and dark, gloomy, fun. Evil. You would never wear bright orange on a normal day, but during October, you might as well be a pumpkin! 

All your friends were already in the Halloween spirit, baking and decorating some of the strongest edibles you’ve ever smelt in your damn life. You were shocked that none of Jesse’s neighbors called to complain about the loud scent. 

“You wanna hit?” 

You peered up at Abby’s invitation puff from her blunt with a polite smile and a shake of your head, “You know I have to drive that one home,” You pointed out an already wobbling Niah in the kitchen. 

Abby chuckled around her next puff, “They’re gonna go fucking crazy with those.” 

“I’m scared,” You huffed, “Niah literally turns into a fucking potato when she’s high. I can never get her to move anywhere.” 

Abby giggled at your eye roll while she ashed. 

Running into Abby after what happened last year was much different than you expected. 

After you two went your separate ways at the party, you assumed she would never want to see you again, blow off any invitations you had to hang out, go back to fucking Ellie like nothing happened, but she did nothing of the sort. 

She always waved you over when she saw you sitting by yourself, greeted you with the brightest smiles and warmest hugs, texted you first. She was everything you could’ve wanted from someone. From a partner. 

So why didn’t you feel that spark whenever she looked at you with those pretty, blue eyes? 

You could always be honest with Abby, so bringing up your predicament was easy. She took it with a grain of salt and told you not to worry because she’s still a whore. It’s college! Her energy always calmed you. 

Niah’s weight plopping down next to you broke your trance. She slumped onto your shoulder with a weak giggle of it’s October 3rd. 

You stared down at her blankly, “It’s the tenth, bonehead— “

“Shhh, shh, i-it’s October 3rd,” she sloppily pressed her index finger to your mouth. 

Abby’s laughter rang from next to you like bells in winter. 

Ellie was… sad. And felt like a fucking loser. 

She’d been lazily lying on her couch with her dab in hand, scrolling through Instagram and watching 5-minute crafts when she received a notification from Dina. 

She felt a subtle crack in her chest when she saw her best friend caption the post the ‘best time of the year 👻’. She was dawned in her usual witch's hat while Jesse had a pumpkin carving imprinted on his shirt, both decorating what she assumed to be laced sugar cookies. 

Her heart shattered when she scrolled through the slides and saw pictures of a slumped Niah, Abby with her tongue out and middle finger up, and you, eyes gentle and smile doll-like with two peace signs by your face. You looked so cozy under the yellow glow of the decorative lamp. So comfortable in the place she used to call home. 

… She’s never not received an invite to decorate edibles. Why was a lump growing in her throat? Her high was fucked. 

Another notification from Jesse’s Snap highlighted across the top of her screen. Her thumb tapped it without hesitation, and some tears fell from her eyes to her cheeks. 

It was a clip of you, Dina, and Jesse squeezing out icing from a tube onto a loudly snoring Niah’s face, snickering softly when the traces of sugar didn’t go where you wanted. 

Stick it up her nose!

Ellie’s body tensed when she recognized Abby’s low whisper in the background. That was definitely the final nail in her coffin. 

The Snap ended with Niah’s eyes peeling open like a zombie and your heavenly laughter. 

Ellie dropped her phone and sat up, resting her head atop the back of the couch, palms digging into her teary eyes. She tried to convince herself that she was angry, pissed the fuck off, ready to fight everybody, even her closest friends. But she wasn’t at all. 

She was lonely and sad, and no one was there to comfort her. 

Class dragged on the entire week leading up to Halloweekend. 

Your shoulders were heavy and slumped from exhaustion. What kind of professor assigns projects the week before Halloween? They’re pretending as if they’ve never been students before; They know you’re all getting faded soon! 

You and Niah were grinding in the library the entire week, perfecting your papers and presentations for the following week. You didn’t want anything to ruin this weekend. Distractions, be gone! 

You’ve dedicated a couple hours each day to prepping your costumes for Friday and Saturday. The excitement to adorn your fairy getup was nearly bursting through your eyes. You decorated your wings with sequins and glitter, made your own flower crown, and designed your own spirit guide by snipping and re-stuffing a Squishmallow. 

You were a little too antsy to start the weekend; Niah almost called Dina to help tape you down to a chair. 

You bolted down the crosswalk after your scheduled library visit, a bright grin on your face at the thought of showcasing your designs for your costume. Dina and Jesse are your best critics. 

You turned the corner and hit a hard chest, almost falling to the floor before a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist. 

“Lookin’ for rings?” 

Your smile widened at the all too familiar voice, “What does that mean?” 

Abby separated from you with a gentle smile, pointing at your sky-blue sweatshirt, “Blue sweater… running… Sonic— “

“Oh fuck!” You paused before a lightbulb appeared atop your head. “Oh fuck! Sonic would’ve been such a cute costume— “

“Still stressing Niah out?” Her brow arched. 

“Of course! Dina and Jes are about t’get the same treatment!” You rushed past Abby, throwing her a wild wave, “I'll see you on Friday bitch!”

Her airy laugh aired behind you before you eased past departing students and into the apartment lobby. 

It’s almost impressive how much your mood can deplete due to one person. 

You instantly recognized Ellie’s back muscles over her muscle-tee, her tattoo sleeve completely exposed as she murmured to the receptionist. The bun at the back of her head was coming loose with each nod of approval she gave. 

Anger and embarrassment and sadness battled for power in your gut as you glared through her skin and down to her bones. And she must’ve felt it.

She spun at the sound of the door shutting, and her eyes immediately glossed over when they locked with yours. She looked like a deer caught in headlights before she whispered hey.

You ignored and looked behind her and greeted the familiar receptionist, “Hey, is Jesse home?” 

“Yeah, babe! You just missed him— “

“W-Wait— “

“Cool, thanks,” You didn’t hesitate to book it for the second entrance, Ellie’s urgent calls of your name ringing behind you. You heard her following you down the hall like a horse. 

She called your name out louder, “Fuck, wait, wait— “

You frantically pressed the up button on the elevator but it was for naught. 

You felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Hey— “

“Ellie, don’t fuckin’ touch me, I’m serious,” you spat. 

Her touch dropped, her hands raising in the air, “Okay, okay, I’m sorr— “

“You’re sorry? Really?” You scoffed. “Fuck off, bro.” 

… Where the fuck was this elevator?! You were this close to holding the button down until the doors opened. 

Ellie sighed, “No, I’ve… I've been meaning to talk to you. Can I— “

“I don’t give a fuck about anything you’re saying, genuinely,” You harshly turned to glare into her eyes. Her gorgeous, green eyes that, for the first time, seemed so soft for you. Desperate, and not lustful. 

She didn’t seem to care about your protests, “I know I fucked up and I was… awful— “

The dings sounding from the elevator sounded like alarms. 

“Ellie, please, I’m begging you, just leave me the fuck alone,” Rageful tears flooded in your eyes. “Get the fuck away from me! Just g-go away!” 

Ellie’s small glimmer of hope died in her orbs, her body flinching at your tone as she peered to the floor with red cheeks. 

The doors peeled open after what seemed like a lifetime and you threw yourself between them, slamming the fourth-floor button like your life depended on it. You refused to look at Ellie as the doors shut, your heart pounding in your chest as you heaved, your hands resting on your knees. 

You vowed that absolutely nothing could ruin your weekend, but why was Ellie’s flushed cheeks and sniffly nose almost enough to make you fold? 

Almost. 

okkkaaaaayyyyy im switching shit up fr so excited to write the next part stay with me yall lemme cook lemme coooook

taggie waggies love yall down :3 @dyk3ang3l @iced-metal @sawaagyapong @kittnii @mariefilms @villainousbear @pick-me-up-im-scared @dragonasflowercrown @elsmissingfingers @bugaboodarling @freakumfilm @robinismywifee @ohitsjordynn @womenofarcane @inf3ct3dd @nil-eena @kaispaws @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @yuckyfucky @machetegirl109 @ximtiredx @mattm1964 @liabadoobee @tfuuka @aouiaa @lastofvenus @iove-bbb

teaser, one, two, three, four

#fratadjacent!ellie #ellie williams smut #ellie williams au #ellie williams angst #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #the last of us #ellie tlou #the last of us 2 #black!oc #ellie williams x black!oc #works 𖧧࣪ #lesbian #Spotify

[mazzymoonlight]

Are There Still Beautiful Things?

summary: inspired by taylor’s “seven”, follow JJ and reader through snapshots of their lives together.

warnings: mentions of the death of a parent, mentions of excessive drinking, mentions of abuse

word count: 9.9k

a/n: hellooo & welcome to my first fic :) some of this had been previously posted in parts, but after evaluation i realized this needed to be heavily edited & worked better in this format. this fic has a special place in my heart, so i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing it. (p.s, happy obx 3 eve!)

SEVEN

please, picture me in the trees, i hit my peak at seven feet, in the swing over the creek, i was too scared to jump in but i, i was high in the sky with pennsylvania under me … are there still beautiful things?

JJ Maybank thinks the last time he was truly, truly happy was when he was seven. At such a young age, anything seemed possible. The sky was the limit and the ocean was their backyard. He had his mother and his father, and even though it leaked sometimes, a roof over his head.

And he had his friends, his favorite people in the world. John B, who he had been sat next to on the first day of second grade and was now inseparable from, and y/n, the girl whose mother was his mother’s best friend, who he had known his whole life.

It was always the three of them, getting into trouble together and spending nearly every moment with each other. You rarely saw one of them without at least one other, and even at such a young age, it was clear they had a bond some people spent a lifetime searching for. They were lucky, and people liked to tell them that.

In their younger days, one of the moms (or more often, both of them together) would often take the trio around. Watching at the beach while they learned to surf, the parks while they played until red in the face, treating them to dinners at the local establishments, or ice cream on those extra hot and intolerable days.

But their favorite was camping in the backyard. They would set up a tent and a bonfire, and roast s’mores and stare at the stars.

JJ’s mom had a particular affinity for the mystery that hung above them and would spend hours teaching the kids everything she knew. She loved the moon, she would tell them everything she knew. She liked to talk about the phases and what they meant, what kind of full moons they were in store for soon.

But Saturn was her favorite, she would talk about any chance she could.

Did you know it’s actually a big ball of gas? That it would float in water?

The ring is made up of ice and dirt and bits.

It’s windy up there.

It takes twenty-nine earth years to revolve around the sun.

Time must move slowly up there.

And they let her talk too. And they listened to every word. They listened to the tales and myths and theories of space until they couldn’t fight the sleep back, and their eyes of wonder became sleepy, slowly blinking at the woman in front of them.

“Goodnight,” She’d say to the three of them, and then she would lean in close to JJ, and leave a kiss on his little forehead.

“I love you to the moon and to Saturn.” he would fall into sleep with a smile on his face.

Nights like that were always beautiful. Memories like that were beautiful.

JJ couldn’t help but wonder; without them, was there any beauty at all left in the world?

FOURTEEN

sweet tea in the summer, cross my heart won’t tell no other, and though i can’t recall your face, i still got love for you your braids like a pattern love you to the moon and to saturn, passed down like folk songs … the love last so long.

The summer they were fourteen, JJ’s life changed. His mother passed, and he was never the same after it. It seemed like the entirety of the outer banks was aware of the light that had been lost.

y/n and her parents were right alongside Luke and JJ. None of them knew what was in store without her. Filled with anger, sadness, regret, and guilt, they all knew that she had so much more to give. Life was not kind, life was not fair, and although they all knew it, they never thought that they would get a reminder quite like this.

JJ stood in between his two best friends, y/n’s hand in his, she was struggling too, but she was holding back. She knew she had to be strong for JJ, she had lost someone special, but he lost his mother, and that was something that he would never get back, something that could never be replaced.

That night y/n stays with JJ, and they end up outside the same way they used to, but without a bonfire tonight. Tonight they stare in silence at the night sky, both thinking about all the things JJ’s mom had told them about the stars and planets above.

“I keep thinking she’s on Saturn,” y/n says, suddenly, the thought slipping out before she can think about stopping herself.

“What?”

“I keep thinking about Saturn, how much she loved it.” She clarifies, “And I keep thinking how happy she must be to finally see it.”

There’s more she wants to say, but figures it’s nothing that JJ hasn’t already heard. What can she say, really? When she catches his smile, the first she’s seen in weeks, she leaves it at that. She’s said all she needs to.

“Yea,” he said, wiping a stray tear. “I bet she is. I like that thought.”

And he meant it. The thought of his mom, an angel on her favorite planet, he didn’t think there was any other explanation.

FIFTEEN

JJ’s fifteenth birthday creeps up, and y/n had worked extra to get him a special present. She had seen it in one of the windows of the fancy boutiques on figure eight and immediately ran in to look at it, begging the store owner to hold it for her after seeing the price on the tag. It had to be JJ’s, she knew it the moment she saw it.

So two weeks later she returned with money collected from babysitting and delivering groceries, the proudest smile on her face. Bringing it home and exchanging the chain for a longer silver one before wrapping it up neatly.

Everyone gathers at the Maybank home on the day of. John B and his father, y/n and her parents, and Pope and Kiara, who the trio had recently befriended.

Luke had even put in a little effort, putting up some simple birthday decorations he had bought from the dollar tree. It wasn’t very much, but all JJ cared about was that everyone he loved was there with him. JJ was happy, but there was a lurking sadness in the back of his head. This was his first birthday without his mom. There was an empty space that would never be filled, no matter how hard he tried. And he was trying very hard.

Despite the weight of loss, it was one of the best days JJ’s had in a long time. Luke had set up a slip-n-slide for the kids, really just a tarp with some water and some dish soap but the kids didn’t care. He grilled hamburgers and hotdogs and even stocked up on more sodas than they needed. y/n had made a cake and John B helped her decorate it. It was sloppy, but it was theirs, for JJ.

y/n had waited until later to give JJ his present. She found him still sitting at the outside table with his hand on his chin, looking up into space like he always did.

“There you are.” She says, siding into the seat next to him. She follows his gaze up toward the night sky.

“Looking for Saturn?” she asks.

“Always am.” He answers sadly despite the small smile on his lips.

She doesn’t say anything, only matches his sad smile with one of her own, and holds out the box shyly.

“Happy birthday Jay.”

He takes it gently, looking at her with a look neither of them can register yet. He leans into her a bit, nudging her softly before tearing at the paper.

When he opens the box his smile drops, and suddenly it feels like he can’t breathe, he feels caught off guard as his emotions blindside him. He had no clue what to expect but this certainly wasn’t it.

y/n sees his reaction and it feels like a gut punch. Why had she gotten him that?

She felt so certain it belonged with JJ but seeing him look so upset now she just felt stupid.

“JJ, I’m sorry, I can bring it back, I just thought … if you don’t like it I’ll take it back.” She tries to explain herself and reaches for the box, but he jerks away from her when she tries to take it back.

She freezes, confused now. He doesn’t catch her reaction, still looking at the necklace in his hands.

“I think I’m forgetting her.” He finally says, voice barely above a whisper, like he was scared to say it. Like this was the first time he was admitting it to himself.

“I’m scared y/n, it’s only been a year, and every day I’m scared I’ve lost another piece of her, what if I’m forgetting her?” And then he’s crying before he can stop himself, sobbing almost.

He clutches the box to his chest like he’s scared to let it go, like letting it go would be the end of the world for the second time.

y/n pulls him in, a few tears of her own falling, thinking of all the things she would do and the things she would trade to take away his pain.

“JJ… you’re not going to forget her, okay, I promise you. All you’re doing is healing, trying to learn to live a normal life without your mom, something that no child should ever have to do. You have so many memories of her, you have so many stories and pictures. You're a piece of her. When you’re older you’ll pass the stories on, and people who never got to know her will know her. And when you're older, older, you’ll tell your kids about their grandmother, the woman who was as strong as a hurricane and soft as a butterfly all in one. You won’t forget her JJ, you can’t when you’re part of her.”

She talks him down, and once he subsides he sees the truth in her words, he trusts her so he trusts what she’s saying wholeheartedly.

“You promise me, y/n?”

She holds him tighter

“Cross my heart JJ.”

“Okay,” He says, sitting up from her.

“Okay?” she questions, wiping the last few tears from his face “because you don’t have to be.”

“I know, but I will be.”

She smiles at that, she knew he would be, even if he didn’t fully believe it, he was the strongest person she knew.

She nods towards the necklace “so you like it then?”

He nods. “I think this is the best present I’ll ever get.” And finally pulls the chain out of the box, staring at the clip confused as he tries to figure it out himself.

y/n laughs, making a motion for him to come closer.

“Here, I’ll do it for you.”

She undoes the clasp and wraps it around his neck, closing it again before adjusting, the charm settling just above his heart.

Her fingers linger on the charm, smiling at the memory, the meaning of it.

“Now you have your own Saturn, always with you.”

His hand closes on hers.

You are my Saturn y/n, he thinks.

But instead, he wraps her in a hug, “wanna camp out tonight? I’ll get John B to come back, the three of us like old times.”

She nods in his arms.

“Always.”

That night the three of them all felt like things had gone back to normal, even just for the night both John B and y/n were glad that JJ could feel some type of relief, even if it was fleeting. They knew in the morning things would go back to the way they were, and JJ would struggle a little bit more than the average person, but if they could just give him a couple of hours, it was worth it.

And finally, when they’ve retired to bed and settled in their sleeping bags, JJ and y/n had the same thought running through their minds as they fell asleep.

I love you to the moon and to Saturn.

And JJ swears he felt something press against his forehead that night, exactly like old times.

SIXTEEN

and i’ve been meaning to tell you, i think your house is haunted, your dad is always mad and that must be why, and i think you should come live with me and we can be pirates … then you won’t have to cry, or hide in the closet and just like a folk song, our love will be passed on

The summer they were sixteen was one they had been dreaming about what felt like their whole lives. Finally old enough to roam freely, exploring all the nooks and crannies unsupervised. The trio had now officially graduated to a group of five, and now they took on the world with Pope and Kiara by their sides.

It should have been a dream. Granted, most of the time it was, but there were nightmares constantly lurking in the corner. JJ didn’t want to admit it, but he was pretty sure he had finally lost his father.

Luke Maybank was never the same after his wife died, but for a while, he at least attempted for JJ. He tried, he really did, to be there, and be something for JJ. But he was losing himself, and in the past year, he was slipping further and further away, turning into someone that even y/n’s parents, who had known him for so long, didn’t recognize.

The drinking was getting out of control, and the hitting started not too long after. When he was sober, he was sorry, but eventually, it became a rare occasion to find Luke Maybank sober

So JJ’s normal became sneaking around his own house, avoiding the last of his family, seeing how many family dinners at y/n’s he could get invited to each week, and saving everything he could from his oddball jobs to get out as soon as possible.

He didn’t like to talk about it, in fact, he never did. He let the pogues think whatever they wanted to and never gave them a real answer when they asked. As far as he was concerned, they didn’t need to be concerned about him, he’d be leaving soon anyways.

But y/n knew. She watched like she always did, she was observant. She watched his eyes get that faraway look whenever he rattled off his latest excuse and the way his smile would fall when he thought no one was looking. She watched him and knew he was hurting more than he would let on.

She had gone to his house to find him but only found Luke instead, and what she saw scared her. She did not recognize the stumbling drunk man looking back at her. And he didn’t recognize her either. The girl he had watched grow up next to JJ, the girl he had roasted countless marshmallows for when she was scared of getting too close to the fire. The girl he made pancakes for in the mornings and the girl he lit fireworks for on the fourth of July. None of the memories registered, he had run her off his property like a stranger had just trespassed.

It was when y/n knew that for the second time, JJ’s life had changed. The knowledge tormented her for weeks. She hated the small piece of her that still felt sympathy for Luke, he was a broken man with plenty of reason to be. She was holding out hope, that something good would happen to JJ.

But when JJ showed up with a black eye one afternoon, blaming it on a group of kooks, she knew she had to say something. She spilled half-truths to her parents, although she suspected they picked up on the unspoken story from the tears in her eyes.

“I’m just - I’m worried about him. I just have this feeling that things have been, I don’t know … harder than normal lately.”

Her parents had sensed the shift too, all her confession had done was confirm the suspicion. Her mother told her then that JJ was always welcome in the home, and her father told her he would try to talk to Luke the next day.

And that worked for a little bit, JJ had visibly perked up and for a minute things seemed like they were back to normal, and y/n was waiting for the right to tell him what she knew but it seemed Luke had beat her to it.

She had been waiting for him at the beach, but her smile immediately turned to worry when she saw him storming up toward her.

“What the fuck y/n?” was the first thing out of his mouth, and now instead of worried she was panicked realizing his anger was directed towards her.

“JJ, what-” But before she can get anything else out he’s talking again.

“What did you do? What did your dad do? What’s with all these cryptic messages of watching us and threatening to take me away? I mean what the fuck, what does that even mean? Take me away? Away from what, my home? My father, my only family I have left? How could you do this to me?”

Her face pales immediately, her head shaking.

“JJ, that is not what happened, that’s not what he meant -”

“So then it’s true, he did come by?”

“Yes but he didn’t threaten your dad JJ, he -”

“You know what y/n, I don’t care. I just came to tell you to stay out of it. I don’t know what you think you know, but my dad and I are fine. We don’t all have a picture-perfect family to go home to at the end of the day.”

His words stung, leaving her nearly speechless. “That’s- that’s not fair JJ. You are family.” She chokes out, but he was already walking away.

“What if it was me?” She calls out, frustrated.

He stops, and she keeps going. “If I were you, and my dad was putting his hands on me. If I started showing up with marks and bruises, wouldn’t you do anything to protect me?”

“I don’t need you to protect me y/n.” And that’s the last thing he says to her before walking away.

JJ’s not around for the next couple of weeks, and it drives y/n up the wall not knowing where he was, or what he was up to.

She spends time with the pogues, but she’s never fully there at any time, part of her mind was constantly on JJ. She finally broke one day and told the pogues to please go find JJ and make him go out on the boat with them. They tried to argue with her but she told them that she was pretty sure that if he didn’t blow off some steam soon, he was going to start getting into trouble, and it wouldn’t be good for him.

She gave them space for a few days, and just assumed that they had picked up JJ and got him out of the house for a bit, so she nearly lost it when the pogues finally confessed that they hadn’t seen or heard from JJ since they had been tasked to go find him.

“Are you sure he’s not at the house?” she asked “Sometimes he just won’t come out, or if you ran into Luke then -”

“He wasn’t there, and we didn’t see Luke either. We checked inside.” Pope answers.

She could feel herself panicking.

“Why did you say something sooner?” She stressed, looking mostly at John B.

He looks down, away from her gaze. “You know how he is y/n… and you were already worried enough. We thought he’d turn up soon, he always does.”

She shakes her head, “maybe, but haven’t you noticed that when he does there’s always a new bruise?”

The three of them exchange looks while she closes her eyes, taking a breath and trying to think for a moment.

“Okay, why don’t you guys go check some of our beach spots maybe? There are a few places I can look and just keep me updated if you find him and I’ll let you guys know too.”

They part ways and y/n knows she’s going back to check the house first. Even if he had left, he was never gone from the house long, there was too much to leave behind.

She parks a little way down from the house, she hadn’t been back since the day Luke had yelled at her and if she was being honest she was still a bit scared. She crept up to the house carefully, freezing she hears shouting, the noise becoming clear once the door swings open.

“Boy, I tell ya, that’s just about the funniest thing I think I’ve heard you say.” y/n hears him laughing maniacally.

“You’re not going anywhere, you won’t leave her, you know you won’t. You’re stuck here, just like me.”

Luke stumbles off towards a trail and y/n waits until he’s out of sight before dashing into the house, finding it still and quiet. She wonders for a moment if Luke had been talking to himself the whole time, not finding it entirely impossible considering how drunk he seemed.

And then y/n is suddenly realizing that the last time she had been in this house was JJ’s fifthteenth birthday, and she was suddenly very aware of how empty it felt. It had lost the warmness and comfort it once held, feeling more like a ghost town than a home now. She felt out of place, which was something she never, ever thought she would feel in the Maybank home.

She notices a slightly open closet door at the end of the hallway, and she swore she could hear sniffling, muffled cries like someone tucked away and hiding in there.

“JJ?” she called out, and when it suddenly went silent again, she knew, rushing over to the door and opening it delicately.

And there JJ was, curled up in himself, knees up to his chest and a photograph in his hand. She knew exactly what photo he was looking at, and she immediately dropped next to him. She didn’t know what to do, she didn’t want to scare him, but looking at him broke her heart.

So instead she starts talking.

“I remember that day.” She says. “That was one of the fourth of July parties, we were all there, even John B and his dad. And this was the year the full moon lined up with the holiday, and your mom was so excited, she talked about it all day and got us excited too. Our dads bought way too many fireworks like they always did. And we ended the night with s’mores, of course, because it wouldn’t be one of our nights without them. You always were so messy. There she is again, cleaning you up.”

JJ falls into her then, and y/n catches him like she always does, and always will. She has tears too, staring at the picture of an innocent JJ, a smile plastered on his face, stacked s’more in hand, staring up at his mom who he loved so much, with no idea he was going to lose her in the next few years. And there was his mom too, beautiful as always, her own s'more in one hand and the other attempting to wipe the sticky marshmallow from his mouth, laughing because she knows it’s useless. But she was his mother, so she would try regardless.

She wraps him up in her arms, her grasp firm so he knows she’s there but not tight enough to hurt him.

“I know why you won’t leave. I know why you won’t leave him, why you always come back. You’re holding on to that last piece of normal. It’s okay, it’s okay to hold on, but not when it’s hurting you like this. This house is full of memories, but it’s haunted and full of pain too. I would never ask you to leave what you know, but please just come with me for tonight, maybe a few days at most.”

JJ has always trusted y/n, so even now, when he was upset and jumbled with emotions he trusts her.

She lifts them both up gently. “Let’s get some spare clothes, okay? I can pack them for you if you want.”

They both walk into his room but he makes no effort to pack. Instead, he picks up another photograph that was sitting on his dresser before sitting at the end of the bed. Without saying anything else she grabs one of his duffle bags, and starts putting in a few extra shirts and shorts, and even grabs a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt just in case. When she’s finished he’s still staring at the photo like he’s in some kind of trance.

She throws the bag over her shoulder and reaches her hand out to JJ. That seems to break him out of his state a little, standing up and pocketing the photographs. He takes her hand and they walk out of the house together, out to her car.

She pulls into her driveway, and they walk into the house together and up to her room.

“Why don’t you shower and change?” She can tell he’s still dazed, and she’s hoping a shower will relax him.

While he showers she makes her way back downstairs, her parents are out of town for the next few days, so she figures she’ll cross that bridge when she gets there. She does, however, text the pogues, realizing just how long it had been since they all began looking for JJ. She keeps it simple and just lets them know that he’s okay and with her for now.

And then, she makes two sandwiches, one for herself and one for JJ, because she knew he wouldn’t eat if he thinks she had made something especially for him. When she walks back up the stairs into her room, JJ is already out of the shower and changed. He looks up when she walks in and she lifts up the plates of sandwiches slightly.

“Eat with me?” she asks.

They sit and eat the sandwiches in silence, and when they’re both finished she runs the plates back down before returning with two classes of water.

“Okay,” she says after a few sips. “Just try to get some rest, okay? I’m going to shower, but I’ll be quick.”

Long after the shower turns on, JJ is still hesitating and realizing how stupid their fight was. All that he knows is that he missed y/n, and now he was here with her, everything felt like maybe it would all be okay.

He had just made it under the covers when the water shut off, and a few minutes later y/n came out, not hesitating to lay down in the bed beside JJ. It didn’t matter that they had been fighting, or not speaking, or had not seen each other in the past few weeks. They would always be there when it was needed.

“I’m sorry y/n,” he says suddenly. She had thought he had fallen asleep.

She shakes her head, even though he can’t see her.

“It’s okay.”

He rolls over, and now they’re both on their back, staring blankly at the ceiling as if staring long enough would make it disappear and show them the night sky just on the other side of it.

“But it’s not.” He starts, “You were just trying to protect me. And this whole thing has been so stupid - I’ve been so stupid. I didn’t like that, us fighting, us not talking. It just feels like … a storm sometimes. In my head, and it scares me when I’m not in control.”

His hand finds hers in the dark, “I know you were just trying to protect me. I was just mad at myself because I feel like it’s my job to protect you, and I wasn’t doing that.”

She squeezes his hand. “Maybe it’s not okay…” she starts, “but just know I understand, and that I’m always going to be here.”

She looks at him then, reaching up and finding his chin, turning it gently.

“And we protect each other, okay?” There’s a desperation in her voice that he picks up on. One that he understands, deeply.

He gives her wrist a soft squeeze, “okay.”

Then he’s curling into her, and she lets him. It’s silent for another moment before y/n breaks it this time.

“JJ?” she says quietly.

He’s barely awake but he still answers her with a tired “Mhm?”

She hesitates, “to the moon and to Saturn.” She backs out, but the unspoken meaning is still there.

He smiles.

“You are my Saturn.

EIGHTEEN

please, picture me in the weeds, before i learned civility, i used to scream ferociously … any time i wanted

y/n blinks and suddenly it’s graduation. She’s never been happier, a swirl of excitement and pride all in one stirring in her stomach. For herself and everyone but mostly for JJ. Things had been okay enough, but no one could deny the hand JJ had been dealt. He faced it every day, the sideway looks and the backhanded comments and the flat-out insults. But he had done it, proved them all wrong.

Luke had even made it to the ceremony, sitting tucked away in the back as he watched his son walk the stage, and afterward y/n eyes them as they had a conversation before finally parting ways.

JJ runs over to the rest of the group, scooping up y/n and spinning her around, cheering and causing a scene.

“We did it, we’re done!” He’s yelling, “we’re free!”

They continue to chat for a while and joke around, taking photos until the parents are all satisfied before parting ways with plans to meet back up at the beach later in the night.

JJ goes home with y/n and her parents, where there’s a small celebration set up for the pair. They eat cake and flip through old scrapbooks and photo albums. He’s happy, but there’s a sting in his chest, wishing his mom was there.

He imagines briefly, what it would have been like had his dad never changed, if he would have been there in the living room with them, or if he would have had his own afternoon planned. He decides not to dwell on it, instead, he wraps his arms around her from behind on the couch. He focuses on her, and her parents, the photo album of past memories. He understands he’s still lucky.

It gets later, and before JJ and y/n leave for the beach her parents call them into the kitchen again, they have something for JJ. He blushes at the statement, although he tries to hide it. He’s handed a small box and is shocked when he sees a silver key sitting inside.

“We hope we aren’t overstepping,” your mom starts, “really, it’s a bit overdue but we just thought - we just want you to know you’re welcome here anytime.”

Her father places a firm hand on his shoulder when he sees JJ getting choked up, “just if you ever need anything. Hell, if you ever just want to come bother us. You know you’re family.”

He laughs a bit, trying to lighten the mood, shaking his head, “Aw man, now you guys got me all emotional.”

Then he looks up at her father, “thank you, really.” And then he turns to her mother too, and she pulls him into a hug that he gladly accepts. “This means a lot to me, really… I don’t … I don’t know what I would’ve done without you guys. Where I’d be… just, thank you.” He tells her.

“You don’t need to thank us, honey. We’ll always be here to take care of you.”

The moment passes, he pulls away, clearing his throat in an attempt to hide his emotional state and he turns to y/n. “Alright, soaps over.” He announces, “you ready to go?”

They make their way to the beach, talking about summer along the way. JJ keeps listing all the things he wants everyone to do together before it’s time to part for school.

They find a spot on the beach, sitting and talking about how strange it is to be done with high school, and the future. Everyone is leaving, even John B. But JJ and y/n decided to stay close to home, not ready to leave yet.

“After college,” he says, “that’s when it’ll be time to go.”

“You would leave Outer Banks?” She asks, slightly shocked.

“Yea.” He says, confused as to why she was so shocked at his statement

“I’ve always said that, why the face?” He questions.

She looks down, realizing that he was right, he had always said that. She never thought about it in detail, never pressed him on it. Maybe she thought all this time that he never really meant it. Everyone always says they want to leave their hometown but how often did they really?

“nothing it’s just, something I heard Luke say once.”

She catches the way his face drops and she tries to backtrack

“No, no, it was nothing bad I promise. I heard him say ‘you know you won’t leave her’ and I don’t know, it’s just the only thing I’d ever agree on with Luke. That you wouldn’t leave your mom behind, and I understand that. You could build something better, be something better.”

He has a pained look on his face, his hand reaching up to the Saturn around his neck.

“Did you mean what you said, about me being a part of my mom?”

She rests a hand on his shoulder, “of course I did JJ. Everyone knows. You’re the best parts of her.”

“Then it won’t matter where I go. She’ll always be with me.”

Then the look on his face turns into a smirk.

“Besides,” he starts, “it wasn’t my mom he was talking about.”

y/n pulls her arm back from JJ’s, retreating into her own space.

“Oh.” She says simply, starting to wonder who would keep him tied here.

The only other girl he really had in his life was Kiara, and they had been awfully close this past year. She had even gifted him a locket for his seventeenth birthday and it now sat right next to his Saturn charm. It took everything in her not to ask what it was, her curiosity was killing her but she respected his privacy more. But truthfully, y/n couldn’t blame JJ even if she wanted to. Kiara was special, she wouldn’t want to leave her either. She didn’t want to leave any of them.

And then y/n started to realize that she always thought it would be her and JJ. Whenever she imagined the future, JJ was there too. She was realizing that maybe it was selfish of her to just assume he’d always be there. She knew he had dreams of his own, and who was to say that she was involved in any of them?

“Hey now,” he starts when he notices the change in her demeanor, grabbing at her face and pushing at the corner of her lips, playfully trying to force a smile.

“Why’s my y/n so sad?” He says with a pout, putting on a dramatic voice like he’s talking to a hurt child.

She pushed his hands away, trying to look annoyed but failing miserably, not being able to control the smile that follows her laugh.

“Well I’m sorry, my best friend just dropped a bomb that he has some mystery woman he’d follow to the ends of the earth. I guess I’m just a piece of moldy bread to you now, huh? I’ve been replaced.”

She overplays her sadness, saying it dramatically, but truthfully deep down a part of her is hurting at the thought.

His hands have moved to the side of her face.

“Come on now y/n, you’re supposed to be the smart one.”

She places her own hands on his, turning her head to the side slightly in question.

“Oh my god y/n,” he laughs, “are you going to make me say it?”

She remains silent, her face reflecting her deeper confusion, wondering what he was on about. She honestly felt like she had missed something, feeling like he had moved on to a whole new topic all together.

“It’s you, you big dummy!” He exclaims, shaking her a bit to emphasize his point.

Suddenly y/n is shocked and embarrassed, moving her head down, trying to hide from JJ’s gaze.

He laughs again and pulls her in, “I would never leave you y/n. You’re stuck with me.”

She doesn’t reply, but she doesn’t need to, instead, she lets him tuck her into his chest. Her eyes land on that locket of his, and she can’t stop her fingers from playing with the charm.

Then suddenly his hand is running up her arm and grabbing hers.

“Why don’t you just ask already?” He says and she immediately freezes. “I know you want to know.”

She still doesn’t say anything but she shrugs her shoulders a bit. Yes, y/n was dying to know what was in the locket but part of her also felt it was an unspoken line that she shouldn’t cross. It was Kiara that had given it to him, so it was probably something that meant a lot to the two of them, and she didn’t want to pry at their relationship.

Of course, he would tell her if she asked but she never let herself.

“Just open it y/n.”

She looks up at him, still hesitant. But the look on his face reassures her, so she pinches open the locket and immediately smiles when she sees the photo inside. That photo from that fourth of July all those years ago, sitting with his mom on the banket, marshmallow all over his face. She can’t help the bittersweet tears that prick at her eyes, thinking about all that JJ had accomplished, and wishing more than anything that his mother had been there to see it.

Then silently JJ reaches up and opens the locket the rest of the way, and when y/n sees the photo on the other side it feels like all the air has been sucked out of her. It’s a photo of him and her from when they were little, looking like it’s from the same night. There they were, standing next to each other with wide eyes and beaming smiles, sparklers in hand. Trails of light surrounded the sparklers, the children unable to keep them still.

And that was when y/n knew. She knew that it would always be the two of them, somehow and someway. She knew that she would go wherever he wanted or needed to go at the drop of a hat and that he too would follow her without hesitation. And most of all she knew she was lucky. She knew how lucky she was to have someone like JJ in her life.

She closes the locket with tears in her eyes, and rests her palm on his chest, feeling his heart beat wildly. When she finally looks up she sees him tearing up too. She reaches up and wraps her arms around him, holding onto him tightly and he does the same.

“I love you JJ.”

He squeezes her tighter for a moment.

“I love you too y/n.”

And maybe the words meant more to both of them. It seemed like over the years that the lines between loving platonically and loving romantically had blurred. Best friends, soulmates, twin flames, they were always something to each other. But the one thing that they did know was that they had time. They had so much time to figure it out and neither were in a rush to figure it out. What they were now was good, who were they to question it?

TWENTY-TWO

sweet tea in the summer, cross my heart won’t tell no other, and though i can’t recall your face i still got love for you, pack your dolls and a sweater, we’ll move to india forever … passed down like folk songs our love last so long

It’s Friday night and the Fourth of July. y/n has been cleaning the apartment all day, needing everything to be perfect. Everyone lived busy lives now, but they were coming tonight to celebrate. She even decorated. A few balloons tied to chairs and red, white, and blue streamers hanging from the doorway.

She hears the front door opening but doesn’t look up from the counter she was wiping down.

“Are you still cleaning? It’s just the pogues y/n, relax.”

“I know,” She says, folding the last blanket and placing it on the edge of the couch “I just want it to be nice. It’s all going to be so different soon.”

There’s a beat of silence and a bittersweet tension hanging in the air.

“Why are you home so late?” She asks, changing the subject quickly.

He lifts the grocery bag in his hand, “beer” he says simply.

She rolls her eyes. “JJ, we have plenty of beer.”

She starts walking towards the kitchen and JJ trails behind her, pulling the pack of beer out of the bag.

“Oh y/n, you can never have too much beer.” He places the pack in the fridge and then starts taking out a few more items.

“Plus, we can’t do the fourth without our favorite.”

She smiles at the contents on the counter, “how could I forget the s’mores?”

JJ turns back to her and puts his hands on her shoulders.

“Because you’re in overdrive, and stressing yourself out. Go take a nap before they get here. You’ve been up all day and I know you had a late night, you’re tired.”

“No, I was going to make some snacks and -” She protests.

“You don’t need to make anything, Kie said she’s bringing dinner from The Wreck.”

“Well, what about the fireworks?”

“John B has it covered”

“What about -”

JJ cuts her off again, “everything is done y/n, we’re ready for tonight. Go rest.”

She pulls him in, wrapping her arms around him.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

She looks up at him, admiring him for a moment. It was something she caught herself doing often, and if he noticed he never commented on it.

College had been kind to JJ. Once he got a handle on it he thrived in the freedom of it. They were coming up on a year since graduation, and JJ had since shed his childlike habits. He was still himself, the light of the party and loud and still sometimes impulsive but underneath it all, he was a man now. It was evident in the way he carried himself now, broader and more confident. He took his life seriously and was happy to do so.

She smiles up at him, “I’ll take a nap if you come with me.” And when she looks at him with those eyes of hers, JJ simply cannot resist.

“Okay, come on.”

They walk over to the couch, JJ picks up the blanket and unravels it before laying down.

“JJ! I just folded that.” She says, slightly irritated but laying down nearly on top of him anyways.

He only rolls his eyes at the comment, dropping the blanket over them and wrapping his arms around her, y/n melting into him as soon as he does.

Minutes of silence pass, and JJ thinks she’s fallen asleep until she speaks up.

“Are we sure about this?”

“y/n, we’ve spent months talking about this. I promise you we’re doing the right thing, okay?”

She sighs, knowing deep down that he was right, so she lets herself relax and catch up on the much-needed sleep.

-------

Hours later and the night has finally begun. They’re all sitting in the living room, chatting. JJ and y/n exchange a look, and they know it’s time. 

“Alright guys, we have something to tell you all.” Her smile is spreading, but she still turns to JJ for reassurance. He takes her hand in his and the pair turn back to the group.

“We’re moving.” They both spit out at the same time. 

The other four drop their mouths in shock, it wasn’t the news they thought they were getting, but it was still enough of a bomb to catch them completely off guard. 

But the speechless shock only lasts a brief moment before they start bombarding the pair with questions.

“Okay, okay!” y/n shouts, trying to calm all the voices talking over each other. 

“San Francisco, California. That’s where we’re going. I got a job offer and JJ found a few places hiring where he can teach surfing lessons.”

Kiara and Sarah are nearly jumping from excitement, pulling her into a hug. 

“y/n, that’s amazing!” 

“Congrats, baby!” 

“When do you have to be there?” 

y/n’s smile drops and she pulls away. 

“Well, that's the thing…” She starts, glancing towards JJ again, and that’s when he steps in. 

“Our lease for here is up at the end of this month anyway …” 

“You’re moving across the country in less than a month?” 

“We didn’t think it was going to move this fast but things just seemed to line up that way…” 

...

After the excitement and explanation, they’ve migrated into two separate groups, the boys still lingering in the living room. 

“So that’s not the announcement we thought we were getting tonight,” Pope says, nudging JJ. 

JJ looks at him confused, “what do you mean?” He asks. 

“He means,” John starts, sitting up, “when are you gonna ask y/n to marry you?” 

JJ nearly chokes on his drink at that, even spitting a bit of it out. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He asks, “we’re not even dating.” 

The other two glance at each other for a moment before back at him.

“What?” 

“What?” The other two echo back, just as confused. 

“And I thought two of my best friends moving across the country was going to be the biggest news of the night,” John says, taking a swig from his beer. 

“What have you two been doing the past five years then?” Pope asks.

“We’re just … She’s my best friend, you guys know that.” 

“But aren’t you guys more than that?” John asks. “You know, you could have told us you’ve been dating since high school and we’d believe it. You really aren’t together?” 

JJ shakes his head, trying to explain what he doesn’t fully understand himself. 

“No, not like that. We’re just… we’re JJ and y/n. Like we’ve always been.” 

The other two share a small laugh. 

“What?” The blonde asks.

“It was never JJ and y/n,” Pope answers. “It was always jjandy/n.”

“Have you guys really never?” He pries. “... At all? Anything? This whole time? Have you talked about it ever?” Pope continues as JJ shakes his head.

“No… we haven’t, we’ve never had to. I just know I’m always going to have her, and she’s always going to have me. We’ve never questioned or talked about how or in what way.”

“But what are you going to do if she meets someone? If you meet someone? Will you move out? Do you two even know how to function without the other?” Pope spits the questions out at a rapid-fire, genuinely curious.

“Of course, we can function without each other, we aren’t codependent.” JJ sighs, taking a breath, “I don’t know what’s going to happen if we meet people, we’ve never had that problem. She’s never mentioned guys past a hook up so I don’t know.”

“And what about you? What if you meet a girl?”

“I don’t know! Good god, what’s with the third degree?”

“You’ve seriously never thought about the future?” John presses. 

“Not in, that sense I guess.”

“Okay, here, close your eyes. Don’t give me that look, come on just close them.”

JJ rolls his eyes but does as he’s asked. 

“Okay, now, imagine yourself five, maybe even ten years from now. What do you see?”

“I don’t know… I just - I just see y/n.” 

…

In the kitchen, Kiara and Sarah are giving y/n a similarly hard time, although it seems to be phasing her a little less. 

“You know we totally thought the two of you were going to tell us that you were finally engaged, right?” 

y/n rolls her eyes at Sarah, jumping up onto the counter to sit, “I’ve told you guys, we aren’t even dating. I don’t know where you keep getting that.” 

“Still?” Sarah nearly shouts, “You guys still aren’t dating?” 

“Ha!” Kiara cuts in before y/n can reply, “You owe me ten bucks.” 

“Oh, so you guys are betting on us now?” 

“Sarah’s betting.” Kiara says, “I’m making a profit.”

The other two are still standing, leaning against the counter inches away from y/n.  

“What have the two of you been doing this whole time?” Sarah starts asking. “I thought for sure after we graduated college the two of you would finally get together.” 

“They’re their own thing, Sarah, I keep trying to tell you.”

“But you guys are basically together, aren’t you? Is it just a ‘we don’t want to put a label on it’ thing?” Sarah presses.

“No, we aren’t together romantically at all. As I’ve said, I don’t know why it’s so shocking to everyone whenever I remind you.” 

“But do you want to be?” Kiara asks, shifting the tone of the conversation a bit. 

“I don’t know.” She says quietly, thinking it over. 

“I mean, Sarah is right you guys have been together for, well your whole lives really. You guys are moving across the country together. The two of you are pretty much starting your lives together. What if he brings someone home? What if you meet someone?” 

y/n just shrugs, starting to feel the tingling of emotions. 

“To be honest with you, I don’t like to think about it. I mean I’ve dated here and there, and I know JJ has too but it never became anything serious for either of us.” 

That day on the beach all those years ago had been enough to hold her over. The thought of always being together in some way, but now that they were getting older and a new part of life was starting, would that hold true? 

“I just know I want him in my life.” She continues, “I mean, I think part of me always did think that maybe we’d end up together but… I don’t know I just, I guess I just want to make sure we’re together because we want to be, not because we’re all we’ve ever known. Sometimes I get scared that we’re holding each other back, that there’s something or someone we’re missing out on.” 

She looks back up at the two girls, shaking her head at her emotions that seem to be building up. 

“But most of all I just want him to be happy you know? I need to be prepared if it’s not with me. I guess I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m saying.” 

Sarah places a hand on y/n’s shoulder comfortingly. 

“No, we get it. I think a lot of this is just anxiety from the move, from this big life change coming up. I can tell you, the one thing that’s never going to change is you and JJ. You guys are absolutely not holding each other back. Trust me, one of us would have said something if we were worried.” 

“You can’t see it from the outside.” Kiara jumps in. “It’s not always bad to have someone like you have JJ. Never once have either of you held each other back. You’ve always brought out the best in him and he’s always brought out the best in you.” 

“You really think so?” She asks, looking between the both of them. 

They both nod, pulling the girl into a group hug best they can, just as the boys are walking back in from the living room. 

“Hey!” JJ immediately shouts, walking over to the three girls. “Which one of you made my y/n cry?” 

Sarah wordlessly moves from her side and next to Kiara, making space next to y/n for JJ to slide into, sending a look to Kiara at the words my y/n while doing so. 

“Kiara was telling me a story about work.” y/n says quickly. “You know how I get about the turtles.” 

“Oh yes,” He says, lifting a hand and wiping away the few tears, “that would explain it.” 

“What about you boys?” She asks, nodding at Pope and John as well, “What were you all gossiping about, huh?” 

“John was telling me all about the fireworks he brought. You ready to go light ‘em up?” 

She jumps down from the counter excitedly. 

“Yes, let’s go!” She says, grabbing the large plate that contained chocolate and graham crackers in one hand and a large bag of marshmallows and skewers in the other. 

The rest of them follow the pair out, watching as JJ takes the plate from y/n so she doesn’t have her hands full. 

“Okay,” Sarah says, “I’d put money on a year from now.” 

“Oh my god, Sarah,” Kiara says, giving her a playful shove. 

The rest of the night is good, y/n makes sure to take a moment to let it sink in, all their smiles and all their laughs. 

They set off fireworks, and sparklers, throw poppers at each other’s feet, watch the boys run from one another with roman candles in hand, and JJ and y/n eat their weight in s’mores. The night runs longer than intended, especially since the girls decided to bring the alcohol back out. 

Finally, long after the night has settled and everyone has lingered for as long as they can, the group starts to say goodbye to each other. Dishes and trash are brought back inside, excess fireworks and belongings collected, and goodbyes dragged out until JJ and y/n are left in their apartment.

y/n lets out a long sigh, feeling the night and the drinks and the reality of them leaving catch up to her. It felt a lot more real now that they had told their closest friends. 

JJ notices her lingering by the door and tugs her gently on the arm. 

“Hey, you wanna sleep with me tonight?” 

She nods silently, a grateful smile on her lips. 

“Go change and meet me in there, okay?” 

She moves a little bit slower than usual, weighed down by exhaustion, doing the bare minimum to get ready for bed, simply changing her clothes and brushing her teeth lazily before pulling her hair up and walking to JJ’s room. 

He’s just climbing into bed and she follows without hesitation, curling into him. She thinks about how easy it is with JJ, or maybe natural is the better word. Everything just is with him. 

He notices the way she’s holding his hand tightly and to her chest.

“Hey,” he starts softly, “you know if … if you’re second guessing this whole move, just say it and we’ll stay. Or… just tell me and I’ll stay.” 

“No,” she says quickly, holding him even tighter now. “It’s not that…” She pauses, trying to gather her words and her courage. 

“It’s just, you know that I love you, right? But do you know that I love you?” 

JJ thinks he can’t breathe and worries for a second that his heart beating as fast as it is can’t be healthy. He wonders for a moment if he’s already fallen asleep and if this is all just a dream. 

Because this is the moment he’s been waiting for his whole life.

“I’m starting my life with you. Moving all the way across the country… away from our home, our family, and our best friends. But the thing is, as hard as I know it’s going to be … I don’t care. Because I’ll be with you, JJ. I’ll have you. I don’t want anything else. Anyone else. I never have.” 

It’s more of a confirmation than anything else.

There’s a moment of silence, and she holds her breath. Then another, while JJ tries to find his words. His mind races, processing her precious words. Pieces of their life together flash through his mind.

He’s crying before he can stop himself, overwhelmed.

“Just… come here.” He says desperately, pulling her in and locking her into his hold. 

“You’re going to make me cry.” She says, muffled in his chest. 

If it was anyone else, maybe the tears would be alarming. She would’ve read the situation differently, and taken it as a rejection. 

But it was JJ. And tonight is more of a confirmation than a confession. 

He pulls her even closer, tightens his grip in hopes of emphasizing his words, and just how much he means it. 

“I never told you outright, but you had to have known, right?… that it was always going to be you? I’ve never been good with my words but I hope I’ve shown you. I hope you’ve felt it this whole time. How important you are to me. How much I love you.” 

She escapes his grip, pulling away only so she can see his face. 

“I have never felt anything but loved by you JJ.” 

And then JJ blacks out he thinks. Or maybe it was just a mind-numbing rush of adrenaline. Or maybe it was natural instinct that had been lying dormant this whole time, just waiting for the right moment. 

Because one second he was staring at her glossy eyes, and the next his lips had found hers. 

Finally. 

It’s soft and slightly desperate, dizzying and intoxicating. 

A sensation that both of them had been the feeling they had simply been waiting for their whole lives. 

They only break away to relieve the burning in their lungs. 

“Say it,” she begs softly, a little out of breath and a little drunk on JJ. 

His mind is in a haze, a smile still adorning his lips as he tries to get back to hers. “I love you.” 

“No,” She says, pulling on him to get as close as possible, “the other one. Tell me again.” 

He doesn’t even hesitate, knowing what she means in an instant. 

“You’re my Saturn, y/n.” 

She smiles into his chest, “again.” 

His hand finds her cheek, guiding her face to look up at him. 

“You are my Saturn.” 

“Never stop saying it?” 

He kisses her again, then pulls her back into his side, tucking her into the spot that she’s always belonged in. 

“Never.” 

#jj maybank #jj maybank oneshot #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank angst #outer banks oneshot #obx fanfiction #outer banks fic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x y/n #outer banks netflix #outer banks fanfiction #obx 3 #obx season 3 #outer banks season 3 #songfic #taylor swift seven

[tyrantisterror]

My Personal History with My Good Friend, Satan

My first encounter with The Devil - that I can remember, at least - came when I was about three or so. My mom liked to borrow VHS tapes from libraries to show me and my siblings a lot, and one of the libraries she used was the one at our church. It was a small and obviously very religion-centric collection, but it left a notable mark on me - like, that's where I saw this weird, kinda shitty cartoon version of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe which might be responsible for irreconcilably fucking up my taste in women? I just have this distinct memory of watching the scene where Edmund is tempted by the White Witch and thinking, "Yeah, he's making the right call." If anything I was frustrated that he hesitated - three year old me was already simping for this woman. Just imagine a child channeling Ernie Hudson in Ghostbusters and growling, "When a terrifying and beautiful woman offers you candy and a private sleigh ride, you say YES!" and that's basically me as a kid.

Where was I? Right, Satan. So, the other video from that library I remember was this cartoon retelling of Bible stories, and really I just remember the Adam and Eve part. The temptation scene had this huge, super gnarly-looking demonic red snake in it, and he was so cool and badass and I was already predisposed to like snakes anyway, so of course he was my instant favorite. But, like almost all media featuring reptiles that captured my little child heart, he turned out to be the bad guy - literally The Devil, in this case - and was punished at the end of the story. And that pissed me off.

Sometime shortly thereafter - or at least that's how I remember it, this was over thirty years ago so things might be smushed closer together than they really were by the fog of ages - some of the kids in my preschool chastised me for liking snakes. "Don't you know the devil is a snake? Snakes are evil!" I remembered the movie, and it made me angry.

Because snakes aren't evil, and as a kid I knew that because my parents taught me it. Snakes were just animals, they don't know right from wrong, and to call them evil it to judge them for what they are, not what they do. That experience taught me a very important lesson: The Devil is a tool to make people hate the innocent. And as I'd later learn, snakes were far from the only innocents people would vilify because of a demonic association.

The second time I met the devil came a few years later, when I was six or seven or so. My Grampa and Grams liked to take us up North to Mackinac City and the Upper Peninsula each summer, and I have a lot of fond memories of those trips, but there was one in particular that's relevant to this discussion. We saw a sign for a "laser light show" in the shopping district, and I got to stay up late to see it with my family. The show in question was basically a cartoon projected into the night sky adapting the song The Devil Went Down to Georgia. It was super primitive and hokey and cornball and terrible and I loved every second of it. I was enchanted, absolutely delighted with the spectacle and the silly song where the devil was less a force of evil and more a comically bumbling inept supervillain - one of my favorite archetypes, even back then. So that's the second lesson about the devil I learned: The Devil can be fun sometimes.

Now, Godzilla, one of the few reptile characters I encountered as a kid who didn't end up a villain (at least not in the first movie of his I saw, Godzilla vs. Megalon), had already set me on the path to loving monsters of all stripes and, by extension, horror fiction in general, so as I grew up I had many more encounters with the devil. But while I warmed up quickly to most monster archetypes, like vampires, zombies, werewolves, etc., I always felt dismissive of demons. It kind of coincided with me becoming disillusioned with Christianity as a whole, in fact. A story about fighting evil, Christian-style demons is ultimately an allegory for fighting evil as defined by Christianity, and Christianity's definition of what evil is, well, sucks. It's bad! They got some things right, but some things horribly wrong. The devil is the tool Christianity uses to make you hate the innocent, and I struggled to enjoy a lot of demon stories because of that. Still do with some, in fact.

There were exceptions, of course - I loved The Evil Dead series as soon as I saw it at too-early-of-an-age, but then, the demons in it aren't super Christian. They aren't repelled by holy water or crucifixes or prayer, and in fact God and Jesus barely get mentioned in the series and never come up as a potential solution. They're kind of secular as demons go, and maybe that made them easier to stomach. But overall, demons ranked pretty low in the hierarchy of monsters to me - they were too tainted by the religion that spawned them for me to enjoy.

Until college, anyway. I quietly renounced my faith during my Freshmen year, and then, as if seeking one last chance at redemption in my eyes, the devil came to me again the following year. That's when I had a class on Medieval literature, and was exposed to far older devil stories than I had ever seen before. And Medieval devils kick ass. They have so much more personality and variety than I had come to expect, and some are downright affable, even sympathetic to a degree. It was one of many moments in college when I realized there was much more to a topic I'd previously written off as boring and trite.

This is when I read Dante's The Divine Comedy and Milton's Paradise Lost and Marlowe's Faust and Ben Johnson's The Devil Is An Ass. It's when I read early Gothic Horror novels like Matthew Gregory Lewis's The Monk, and dived into The Twilight Zone, which has more than a few episodes that are updates of medieval-style devil folktales in a more modern (i.e. 1960's) setting. And so many of these works presented the Devil not as a stand-in for everything Christianity hates, but as a person - a deeply flawed person, yes, but a person with actual wants and feelings and thoughts of his own, a person who was interesting and compelling - and sometimes funny, and sometimes charming, and sometimes really sad. There was, dare I say... sympathy for the devil growing in my heart.

In the last year of my undergraduate studies, I attended my college's yearly Medieval Studies Congress, where people from all over the world came to Kalamazoo just to share their research papers on medieval history and literature. One girl's thesis paper was on the subject of "rueful devils," i.e. depictions of demons in literature where they wanted to repent their sins and redeem themselves, which uniformly ended with the devils' hopes being dashed as they could not fully repent. This idea... possessed me. The idea that the devil could repent, or at least try to - that there could be hope even in the most debauched sinner. It was such a good narrative trope in my eyes - why did it die out centuries ago?

Well, because the church didn't like it, you see. If the devil can repent - if the Absolute King of Evil can choose to become a good person - then he's not very useful as a tool to make people hate the innocent anymore. The devil MUST be "pure evil" to work as intended. A rueful devil, a repentant devil, a devil that can be redeemed, forces us to be more forgiving and kind. It forces us to be better. It prevents us from hating people because an old book says so. And some people just couldn't have that, and so the trope died.

...

After I got my bachelor's degree, I entered the job market and, after applying to fifty different places or so, was finally hired as a high school english teacher about two weeks before the school year started. Said school year was the worst year of my life. Like, I've had extreme self loathing issues and suicidal ideation since, like, sixth grade, but holy shit it was NEVER as bad as it was in that nine month stretch between 2012 and 2013. There was this bridge I had to cross on the way to work each morning, and about two months in the job was so stressful that part of my morning routine was thinking, "You know, if I just swerve to the right, this can all be over and I'll never have to worry again." About halfway in I began drastically losing weight despite not changing my diet or getting more exercise and it was so traumatic that to this day whenever my weight starts to drop my initial reaction is dread rather than excitement. I impulse bought the first two Kung-Fu Panda movies and, after watching each for the first time and crying hideously, proceeded to watch them on repeat for an entire weekend while sobbing myself hoarse for reasons I couldn't comprehend at the time.

I was in Hell. And the devil met me there.

I started writing a story during that year. I didn't get very far, just a couple chapters, but it was one of the few things that gave me a sense of accomplishment. Despite all the stress and sadness and misery, I made something. It was a story about demons, and Hell, and trying to make your life better even when the world around you seems deadset on making you suffer as much as possible.

When my bosses called me into their office at the end of that year and told me that I had to quit my job so the assistant principal could take my teaching position and survive the downsizing they'd get next year, and that if I didn't quit they'd give me the lowest teacher evaluation they could and make it supremely difficult for me to get hired elsewhere... I was relieved. I'd been let out of Hell. After a handful of months left to finish out the year, I was free.

And then I went home, with nothing. No job, no desire to pursue the career for which I'd spent five years and an ungodly amount of money getting a degree to pursue, no nest egg, nothing. Nothing except a few chapters of a book.

The years that followed were hard. I did a lot of temp work, it took me a very long time to find something that worked for me. I may have left the worst year of my life, but there was still a lot of misery waiting for me. And through it all, I felt the need to accomplish... something, ANYTHING. I had to make something to prove I had a reason to exist, even if it was something that only had value to me.

With three years of work, those chapters became my first novel, No Sympathies: A Tale of Those Who Trespass Against Us. It was about the devil, and Hell, and finding salvation even when things seem inescapably bleak. It was my first novel, and now, eight years later, it's the first of five.

The devil saved my life. He saw me at my lowest, lifted me up, whispered, "It'll be ok. You have to keep going. I'll be with you, but you have to keep going," and goddammit, he kept me from swerving right.

That's when I learned the greatest truth about the devil, at least to me. The devil is a tool to make people hate the innocent, yes, this is true, but because of that, the devil can be a savior for the broken, the beaten, and the damned. You can feel like you're worthless, wretched, and doomed. But if the devil can rise from Hell, if the devil can choose to change, if people are willing to pray for the one sinner who needs it most - then there's hope for you too, isn't there?

Demons are creatures of rebellion - against God, against nature, against the powers that be, against doom and damnation itself. They were made to be a tool to hurt the innocent, but that's not what they have to be. Devils can lift us up, because no matter how far you fall, no one can say whether it's the end for you except you.

...I would like to point out that I am being figurative here. The devil does not literally exist, at least not in my view of things. He's a fictional character, nothing more. But he's a prolific fictional character, and how we portray him can say so much about us. And, to me, he is a dear friend, despite being imaginary, because the devil was there for me when I was low, and it was on his wings that I rose from doom.

...again, figuratively, not literally.

[dvrk-moon]

POPULATION 300 - JAKE SIM

TEASER 1

synopsis : it was some bullshit that jake had to stay in a city barely on the map called elmbridge rather than going to italy with his best friend. being forced to spend a whole summer there, all jake expected to be there was old people, not a girl who hasn’t left his mind since that one night at the gas station.

word count : .9k

genre : summer love, jake x fem!reader

warnings : mentions of suicide

playlist : tba

expected release date : next month lol

i. SUMMER TRIP TO NOWHERE

There were two things that Jake hated most in the world. Heights, and going away from home.

When Jake was five, before going on a trip to an amusement park with his mother, he was fine with heights. 

But when his mom and him had reached the top of the mock Eiffel tower during their day out, and Jake had managed to watch someone’s last moments on the tower as they decided to take their own life, it was a different story.

The header: “24 Year Old Man Takes His Life After Plummet From Mock Eiffel Tower at Ark Island Amusement Park”. Forever engraved in Jake’s mind, he swore to himself to never intentionally put himself in a situation where he would be so high in the air that anything remotely similar could happen to him, someone he loved, or even a stranger. 

On the other hand, the idea of going away from home just irked Jake in such uncomfortable ways that he grew to resent it. The resentment eventually turned into hatred. 

So, when it was revealed to him that he’d have to spend his whole summer in some nameless town in the middle of the U.S. with his aunt rather than spend his summer in Italy with his parents and best friend, Sunghoon, naturally he declined. In what right mind would anyone choose an unknown town over Italy?

Clearly his aunt would. 

No matter how much he tried to persuade his parents out of it, no matter how much he attempted to convince his aunt that taking him and his younger cousin, Huiyeon, on this trip was a bad idea, and no matter how much he struggled to make Sunghoon talk to his parents about taking him to Italy anyways — because they clearly loved Jake enough to at least try and do so — instead of ‘Middle-of-Nowhere-Ville’, all his trials ended fruitlessly.

Because two weeks after receiving the proposal of the trip, here Jake was, sitting in the passenger seat of his aunt’s half-working 1998 Ford Escort, trying to drown out Billy Joel by using his hand-me-down cassette player from his dad. 

Seated behind him was assorted bags that each person inside the car had chosen as essentials to bring, Huiyeon: some old dolls she’d bought with her mom at an antique store during a trip to a small town in Oregon, her quilt since birth, dress up clothes, and of course clothes suited for a seven year old such as herself; Jake: about 20 different flannels, about 20 different cassettes, an ugly doll that he originally was going to leave at home, but since his mom considered it ‘necessary’, he packed it in his suitcase to appease her, and his polaroid; and his aunt, Seulyi: clothes you could typically find any 31 year old wearing, a picture book, a couple cassettes she had found for Jake, and some jewelry.

There were also more bags in the trunk, loaded with clothes. Due to the trunk space being so unexpectedly small, each person only got to pack two bags of clothes. The remaining things that needed to be packed were left in the bags in the backseat row, or left at home, due to lack of room.

A newly awakened Huiyeon interrupted the comfortable silence — aside from the Billy Joel songs from the radio — in the car.

“Are we there yet?” she yawned, stretching herself over as far as she could in the row without touching the bags that occupied the spot next to hers. One hand rubbed her left eye while the other one was shaken. “My whole body feels fuzzy.”

“Like TV static?” Jake questioned. He figured she was trying to wake her body up from falling asleep.

“Yeah. I feel fuzzy.” She responded, yawning a second time.

“We’re almost there,” Seulyi reassured from the drivers seat. Huiyeon and her met eyes from the rear view mirror, “give it about 20 more minutes, Hui.”

As Seulyi focused her attention back on the road, Jake took this time to fully take off his headset and pause his cassette. 

“Hey, Aunt Seulyi?” 

Seulyi hummed a half response.

“What’s the name of this town again? I forgot to look it up when I still had my phone…” Jake semi laughed. His phone was probably on his dresser at his house, or maybe in his parents room. Two days before the trip, they’d confiscated it in hopes that ‘he’d learn to keep away from it for a while’ and ‘he’d actually have to connect with people his age in real life’. Apparently, according to both them and Seulyi, the service there was horrible anyways.

What a load of bullshit. If Jake had to guess, the town would most likely be filled with old people, not anyone his age he could connect with. 

“The town is called Elmbridge. The population is only around three hundred people, so it’s more than likely you’ll see the same people more than once while you’re down there.” Seulyi informed. “That means don’t pull anything dumb, Jake.” 

Seulyi glanced in his direction, not in a way to berate him, but more in a warning way. Jake half assed a laugh as he turned out to face the window to watch trees as the car flew on the highway.

“Also, just to let you both know, we’re about forty five minutes away from actual human civilization,” she joked, “so this experience will be something interesting for us all.”

a/n : ive been formulating this story since 2020 LMFAO originally i wrote it with nct’s renjun in mind but i felt bad for emu having a sad ending for jake so here is his redemption arc

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fanfic #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfics #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen headcanons #enhypen texts #enha x reader #enha imagines #enhypen jake #enhypen jake scenarios #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen jake x reader #jake x reader #enha jake #heeseung #enhypen jay #sunghoon #sunoo #jungwon #ni ki #dvrk moon

[sourlemonsprout]

gn!reader x Alphonse

Word Count: 1,078 (This piece briefly references the "Summer Eve w/ Your Pastel Punk Boyfriend" vid from like 4yrs ago.)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"Music?" Al cocked his head slightly.

"Yeah! Remember when we got ice cream the other week? At the beach, you said if I was interested we could hang out sometime. Your suggestion of lying around and listening to music actually sounded really nice. That is if you're cool with that?" you said, your eyes scanning around the store, lightly bitting at the corner of your bottom lip.

oh-

"Uh yeah, yeah! That would be cool. I close up shop in a little over an hour. Is that alright?" He asked, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Sure thing! I'll come back then!" You said, waving as you headed out the door.

fuck they're cute

The shop had been a wasteland the rest of the day, so Alphonse eventually decided to close the shop a little early. The second the doors were locked and lights were out, he scrambled to clean his apartment. The clothes on the bedroom floor got kicked into the closet. The dishes beside the kitchen sink were cleaned in record time. Just before he heard a knocking at the shop's doors, he was able to tidy up the living room area. Taking a deep breath, Al ran his hand through his hair and glanced around the apartment one last time before answering the door.

"Hey there, come on in," he motioned inside.

"Again, feel free to grab anything you'd like from the shop," he said, locking the door once again behind him.

"Thanks, my day was kinda shitty, so I appreciate this," you admit. As you pass the rows of shelves stocked with delicious sweet treats, you snatch a KitKat from a basket as you walk beside Al to the back door.

"Oh, sorry to hear that. Did you wanna talk about it…?" He offered.

"Nah, it's not that serious. I just wanna chill and forget about it," you say, chomping directly into the top of the KitKat bar, which makes Al chuckle and admittedly cringe a little. You pause for a moment once you've reached the vaguely familiar living quarters you visited once before. Absentmindedly, you chew at your lip, taking in the apartment properly this time. Alphonse briefly looked around the room before his eyes landed on you. He can't help but feel a flush of heat rise to his cheeks as he watches you bite your lip innocently. As nonchalantly as possible, Al ducked behind you and made his way over to the kitchen. Now out of sight, a deep breath to regain his composure.

"Make yourself comfortable! I'm gonna grab some water. You want anything to drink?" he called out.

"I'm alright, thanks!" you call back, oblivious to Al's fluster. You wander over to the living room and sit in front of the couch on the carpet with one leg up and the other crossed underneath. You watch Al enter the room carrying a deck of cards, a baby blue speaker, and a glass of water. Upon reaching you, he places the water down on a little coffee table and hands you the speaker to which you're making little grabby hands.

"I thought it'd be fun to have something to do while we listen to music." Al gestured to the cards in his hand. As you eagerly queue up a list of songs, Alphonse begins to shuffle the deck of cards.

"So what games do we know how to play?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Crazy Eights, Slap Jack, Rummy, Black Jack, uhh… Go Fish?" he reeled off.

"Ooo, it's been a minute since I've played any card game," you pondered your options for a moment.

"Let's start out with Crazy Eights, I definitely know that one!" you decide. Alphonse deals out seven cards each, his head nodding in beat with the song pouring out of the speaker.

The first few turns passed slowly as you both sorted your cards and got into the rhythm of the game. Alphonse found it silly how much strategy you were trying to implement in a game he believed to be mostly chance. After several rounds of skill, luck, and shit-talking, you were both tied.

"We need a tiebreaker," you declare, reaching for the deck of unorganized cards.

Al sarcastically said, "Obviously, the town would be devastated if we didn't determine which of us is the Crazy Eight's champion," rolling his eyes with a grin. Thus began an intense game (mainly for you) for the crown and title of official Crazy Eights champion.

Rolling the bottom of your lip under your teeth, you surveyed your cards intently, plotting your next move as if money were on the line. Alphonse smiled softly as he watched you concentrate. His heart flutters at the way you nibble at your lips, causing them to swell and redden. Your expression delates with defeat and your eyebrows furrow as you realize you have to pick up cards from the draw pile. A warm bubbly feeling swells in Al's chest, and suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to lean across the table and kiss yo-

"AH HA!" You shout triumphantly, making Al jump slightly at the sudden outburst as you proudly display an eight or spades.

"I call clubs babyyyy," you declare smugly, knowing damn well Al didn't have a single club card in his hand. Alphonse chuckled as you slid the entire draw deck towards his side of the table.

"You're something else, you know that?" he shook his head, drawing his seventh card.

As the night wore on, you and Alphonse continued to play card games and listen to music, occasionally pausing to chat about life and share stories. Any tension or fluster Al once felt had melted into a comfortable ease, it felt lovely to open up to someone like this again. As the clock struck midnight, you both decided it was time to call it quits.

"Thanks for tonight, Alphonse. I had a lot of fun," you said, standing up from the floor to stretch.

"I did too. We should do this again sometime," he replied, walking you to the door.

"Goodnight," he whispered, his eyes meeting yours.

"Goodnight," you replied, feeling a warmth spread through your body.

As you walked home under the beautiful night sky, you couldn't wipe the smile from your face. Maybe there was something there between you and Alphonse, something worth exploring. Only time would tell, but for now, you were content basking in the glow of a wonderful evening.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The End!

Thanks again @sleeplessdreamer14 for the req/idea! <3

I'm not exactly sure why this is the story route I went down, but I must really want to play a card game or something considering this is the second piece I've written where card games are involved lol.

#yuurivoice #yuurivoice stuff #yuurivoice alphonse #alphonse yuurivoice #yuurivoice fanfic #writting #fanfic #fluff #yv fanfic #yuurivoice listener #first request! #yuurivoice fandom #lip biting #sourlemonsprout

[imeternallylove]

Secret - S.Holmes; Prologue

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Genre: purely angst, upcoming age and some smut

Warning: none

Word: approx 700

main mastetlist  | request & ask | prompts | theme song

Chapters index

prologue | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part night | part ten | part eleven | part twelve | part thirteen | epilogue

You should never have had slept with Sherlock Holmes.

From the moment you mistakenly kissed after a long night of drinking, it was a downhill spiral of secret meetings in the private study room – not studying – and late hours in the lab room – not practising. All of your friends warned you that it would only end in a heap of tears over a destroyed friendship.

But you couldn't help yourself. Sherlock left you wanting more: a junkie infatuated with the pleasure.

Because the way that his thighs bumped against you and his strict tremulous voice empowered you to give him every part of yourself., twice. So far, you both have been quite thirsty.

Everything had been wonderful in your life. You were ready to graduate from high school, you had your entire summer planned out, and when autumn arrived, you were going to pack your paints and go to Liverpool to pursue a career as an artist. And suddenly it was all collapsing around you, one fantasy after another turning to dust and vanish in the blink of an eye. 

"Do you have any trophies?" You stuttered in astonishment, your legs giving way from beneath you and allowing your body to fall to the bench.

It was a chilly Tuesday evening, and you were sitting in the park midway between your house and Sherlock, exactly as he had requested. He seemed anxious on the phone, but Sherlock was always like that, like the time he called you at 3 a.m. and forced you to come over just to be sure he didn't have a third nipple. Even so, you hastened to get ready and see him since he was your best friend and you needed him by your side.

And he was about to leave you.

You understood how important this was to him. Even you and everyone else who knows him would agree that the lab is his second home. You knew how hard he had worked for an opportunity like this, and you wanted to be happy for him, but hearing him tell you about the best news of his life made you sick. If Sherlock was accepted into Boston University, he'd leave you behind to cope with your mess of a life.

Sherlock sat down beside you, knees brushing up against yours as he moved as close to you as possible. “Yeah, isn’t it amazing? I was just scolded Mycroft that I hate government jobs when someone from the uni called I should come to Boston and you know, start to prepare myself there. It’s what I’ve always wanted!” He was beaming with so much excitement and happiness.

You didn't want to be the one who got in the way of his dreams, as much as you didn't want to go through it alone. You tried to grin as you drank past the lump in your throat. "That's fantastic news, literally. Sherl!" You cried, attempting to fake enthusiasm. You were still sick to your stomach on the inside. 

"I still can't believe it," he said, shaking his head in bewilderment before wrapping his arms over your shoulders and pulling you against his chest. His scent enveloped you in an instant as you buried your face in his coat, holding back the tears that begged to fall. "Thank you for never letting me give up," he muttered quietly, gently cradling the back of your head and running his fingers through your hair.

You were on the point of tears, feeling the salty sting as they gathered in the corner of your eyes, but you swallowed hard to keep them in. "This calls for some celebrations," you burst into tears leaning out of Sherlock and bringing your scarf closer to your face. "How about you go get us some tea from the corner café?"

Sherlock smiled brightly at you and rose to his feet, oblivious to your pain. "I like the way you ponder," he said while directing attention to his nose and then at you. "One green tea for my best friend, coming right up!" He responded, backing away and kissing you.

You finally allowed the tears fall down your cheeks as you watched his figure walk out of the park, sobbing breaking out of your chest. The last shred of hope you had clutched to, the possibility of having him at your side through it all, had slipped from your grasp and broken on the ground. You couldn't be the one to derail his hopes as well. 

"I guess it's just me and you," you said to yourself, cradling your stomach with your hands. Inside was a swarm of cells that were rapidly multiplying into something that was totally your responsibility.

The secret you could never tell Sherlock.

#bbc Sherlock #bbc sherlock x you #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock imagine #Sherlock #sherlock x reader #sherlock x you #sherlock x y/n #sherlock imagine #Sherlock Holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes x you

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Why Are Seers Always Cursed? (3)

Wesley Weston is a son of Apollo with the rare gift of prophecy.

Written for @crossoverdanuary Week 2024, Day three: Percy Jackson | Lake

This takes place shortly before Annabeth, Luke, and Thalia arrive at Camp Half-Blood, and while Wes is still in middle school, meaning it's set before the primary canon events of both series. You can also read it on AO3!

Chapter 3: Downhill Fast

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[Warning for mild violence]

Over the next two weeks, Wes started to really get the hang of Camp Half-Blood. A few more campers had arrived, including another Apollo Camper close to Wes' age named Lee Fletcher. The two of them got on really well right out of the gate. Wes did not manage to get out of explaining to Archer that he had the gift of prophecy, but for some reason, Archer told him that it would be wiser to keep it secret from anyone outside of Apollo Cabin.

Wes wasn't sure why, but he was starting to get the sense that his ability was more dangerous than it seemed. Archer warned that people might try to take advantage of him, or pick on him because they saw him as having an unfair advantage himself. So Wes' powers of foresight became cabin seven's little secret.

Unsurprisingly, Wes demonstrated a knack for archery. He'd never done it before, but it was like the bow simply belonged in his hands. His cabin-mates were very encouraging and helped him with his form so the bowstring didn't snap against his forearm. They were also fun to play basketball with. Wes established a personal record of scoring 90 feet from the hoop. Nowhere near the cabin's record, but still basically a full-court shot.

He wasn't as good as the others in the infirmary, but he wasn't so useless that they sent him out. They mostly had him cut bandages and get things for them, which was fine by Wes. 

When it came to singing camp songs, Wes was exposed for his awful singing voice, but he was picking up the ukulele remarkably fast, so maybe he had inherited a little bit of Apollo's musical talents. Not as much as Lee, though; he was a regular musical prodigy as far as Wes was concerned. At only thirteen, he could play several instruments and his singing voice was downright mellifluous.

The one thing Wes really struggled with in the Apollo Cabin was seeing his cabin mates as his siblings. Technically they were, but Wes already had siblings. These people were basically strangers in comparison. And it didn't really help that he'd made a conscious decision not to think of Apollo as anything like a father to him back when he was ten years old. 

The Apollo campers were warm, and accepting, and he liked them a lot... but they weren't family. Not yet, at least.

Aside from that, the only thing that really bothered him about this place was the pine tree that wasn't there, the one he kept seeing on the crest of the hill.

He brought it up to Chiron once, in private, and Chiron told him that sometimes they couldn't know what a prophecy meant until it came to pass. Wes only begrudgingly accepted that answer. He didn't like it.

What was the point of seeing the future if it didn't make sense until it became the past?

That pine tree became increasingly frustrating. Even more so than the monster attacks. They weren't daily or anything, but there had been two so far, counting the drakon, and both had been taken care of with only mild injuries and no deaths. That pine tree though....

Once, when Wes saw it, there was something gold hanging in its branches, and a dragon wrapped around its trunk fast asleep. Then he blinked, and the golden thing and the dragon were both gone. Then he blinked and the tree was gone too.

At the end of the second week, there was a terrible summer storm. For some reason, while the storm raged, Wes' eyes were drawn to the top of the hill. Each time a strike of lightning lit up the darkness, the pine tree appeared, just for that instant, before vanishing again. That felt important, but Wes didn't know why.

He told Archer about it, but Archer just told him the same thing Chiron did.

He didn't like it any better the second time.

Then, one night, Wes had a dream. He dreamed about the pine tree. About lightning striking, about a hoard of monsters straight from Hades.

The forbidden child approaches, the dream told him. The forbidden child approaches.

When he awoke, he thought about telling Chiron again, but then he remembered what he'd said before.

"You can't always know what a prophecy means until it comes to pass."

Wes sure as Hades didn't know what a 'forbidden child' was, and Chiron had already said he had no idea what the pine tree meant. Maybe this was one of those things where he should just wait and see how it panned out, rather than bothering anybody with his stupid dreams again.

Although... the last time he'd had a dream like that, it had told him Apollo would visit his mom.

But Apollo hadn't been in this dream. Just that stupid pine tree and a bunch of monsters. And it wasn't even worth it to warn everybody of monsters coming because he had no idea when this was going to happen.

Maybe he should ask anyway.

"Hey, Chiron," he asked the centaur during archery practice, "Do you know what a forbidden child is?"

Suddenly, Wes felt as if he'd been struck by something heavy falling on him. He stumbled and let go of his bowstring and the arrow missed the target by a mile. As it left his bow, he could swore the whistling sound it made as it shot toward a tree trunk sounded like an apology.

"Sorry, kid," it said. "I hate to do this to ya. I can't defy my father, you understand." Then it pierced the tree trunk with a thunk.

"My, are you alright, Wes?" Chiron asked.

"I'm... fine, but my question."

"I'm afraid not," he said. "I suppose if a child were to be sired by one of the three most powerful gods they might be considered a forbidden child, since the three of them swore on the River Styx not to sire children. But no such child exists."

"What if one did?" Wes asked. "And what if they were coming here and a whole bunch of monsters were chasing them?"

"That would be preposterous," Chiron assured him. "None of those gods would go back on their word, not when it's so important for them to honor it."

"But I saw it happen!" Wes insisted. "I saw three demigods and satyr climbing that hill," he pointed to the camp's border. "I saw them being chased by a horde of monsters from the underworld. I heard the trees whisper that a forbidden child approaches. I saw it in my dream last night."

"Dear boy," Chiron said. "You may have the gift of prophecy, but not every dream is prophetic. There is no forbidden child, and no horde of monsters. I can assure you. I hope you'll be able to calm down now."

"What?"

This didn't make any sense. Chiron's advice was sometimes frustrating, but he'd never been dismissive like this. He knew what Wes could do, what he could see. He knew that prophecies should be taken seriously. So what the heck was this?

"Why don't you focus on your archery for now?"

"But...." Wes was too confused to formulate a proper argument. He shook his head, his face scrunched up in a mix of emotions. "Okay...."

Wes lifted the bow again and lined up his shot. This time, his arrow flew true, and landed right in the bull's eye. But again, the sound of the arrow taking flight was a whispered apology.

"I cannot defy my father's wishes," it said. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

That night, Wes had the same dream again. The forbidden child approaches. The forbidden child approaches.

A few days later, on an otherwise ordinary evening, while the campers were enjoying dinner, it happened. An uproarious cacophony of monstrous shrieks and bellows shook the valley. The blue sky darkened as smoke rose up from the far side of the hill.

Wes sprinted to get his bow and arrows and followed the rest of his cabin mates to the ridge while the other campers headed for the hilltop. 

They couldn't get ready fast enough.

They weren't even halfway to their positions when four figures crested the hill, three demigods and a satyr.

"Go!" one of the figures, a girl, shouted. "I'll hold them off!"

She stopped at the top of the hill, wielding a spear and a shield, and the other three kept running. She fought valiantly, slashing and stabbing at bat-winged creatures and hell hounds until they overwhelmed her, and she fell.

It was only then that the other campers finally got close enough to help her.

They were too late. Wes knew it innately. That girl was the forbidden child, and she was going to die.

Without warning, a bolt of lightning shot out of the clear blue sky, and struck the girl. Then she started to change. 

As the battle raged around her, she grew bark and sprouted branches until a tall, proud pine tree stood where she'd once been lying, half-dead on the ground. 

Wes had seen that tree before. This time, though, it was actually real. It didn't disappear when he tried to blink it away.

A pulse of light emitted from the tree, expelling all the monsters from within the bounds of the camp. Then the light faded, leaving an invisible barrier protecting all the demigods within its bounds.

Later, the three who survived explained what happened. The satyr, Grover Underwood told them all that Thalia was a child of Zeus, a forbidden child. He explained that ever since he'd found her, creatures of Hades had been chasing them. Hades himself had sent them, angry at his brother for breaking their pact.

Wes kept his anger contained until Chiron dismissed everyone. He waited until everyone else was gone. He stayed silent.

"Is something wrong, Wes?" Chiron asked, noticing that he wasn't going to leave.

"I told you this was going to happen," he said, barely keeping a lid on his rage. "I warned you about the forbidden child, about the monsters from Hades, all of it. You didn't listen to me. You told me it was just a dream. 

"If you'd just listened, we could have done something. We could have put a group of guards up on the hill. We could have been prepared for this! Thalia Grace didn't have to die!"

"I'm sorry," Chiron said. "I don't know what came over me. I knew of your abilities, and yet... when you told me about the forbidden child, it was as if... ah... I see...."

"What?" Wes did not accept this apology. He glared viciously at the centaur.

"Did you hear anything else? That day you told me about your dream, or afterwards?" 

His glare eased as he thought about it.

"Actually, right before I told you, when I stumbled and my arrow misfired, it sounded like an apology" Wes recalled. "And then again the next time I fired at the target. 'I'm sorry. I cannot defy my father,' is what it said."

"The arrow spoke to you?" Chiron repeated derisively, but he quickly shook his head with pained expression. "My apologies.

"It is the fate of all oracles that such great power must come at a price," he said. "Either one must make a willing sacrifice to balance out that power, such as the Oracle of Delphi does, living as a maiden her whole life in a cave. Or, the gift will lead the bearer to be cursed, such as Tiresias who was inflicted with blindness, or... Cassandra.

"I believe Zeus did not want the secret of his child to get out," he continued, "so he had his son Apollo inflict you with Cassandra's curse to prevent you from sharing what you knew, or rather, to prevent anyone from believing you, even if you did."

"What exactly is this curse?" asked Wes.

"That you may see the future, but that you cannot share it with anyone, for they will never believe you," Chiron answered. "It's a terrible curse. It means only you alone will ever be able to benefit from your abilities, but you cannot help others with them."

"Is there a way to break it?" Wes asked.

"I'm afraid not," the centaur answered mournfully. "A seer's curse cannot be broken. Even those who know of the curse will have difficulty overcoming it's effects. Even I... well, you've seen already. I have a strong enough will to fight my initial reaction if I'm ready for it, but my initial reaction will always be disbelief. I'm sorry, Wes."

Chiron's appraisal turned out to be right on the money. As much fun as Wes had at camp that summer, and as much as he learned and grew, his precognition became completely useless. Even his cabin-mates, who already knew about his powers, didn't believe his visions until they came true.

Sometimes people would even ignore things Wes didn't realize were prophecies. The entire Aphrodite Cabin got poison ivy, all because their counselor didn't listen when Wes said to take the other path.

The same thing happened when he went back home at then end of the summer. His mother, who always humored his hunches before, now fully dismissed them. His father would laugh like Wes was telling him a joke.

And the next summer, when he returned to Camp Half-Blood, it was the same story. 

Now that they had a magic barrier, there weren't any monster attacks to keep their skills sharp, they'd introduced regular games of Capture the Flag in the woods. It was the perfect opportunity for Wes to use his foresight to help his team win, but when none of them would listen to him, he had to go ahead on his own.

He won the game for his team, but it wasn't as satisfying as he'd thought it would be.

It was a relief when he finally went home for the summer. He wasn't looking forward to starting high school, but outside of camp, there were a lot fewer situations where not being able to tell people about his visions was a serious problem. Or so he thought.

Strange things happened in Amity Park that year. There were monsters around town that everyone could see, ghosts, rather. Not from Greek myths, but from a portal to another realm in the Fentons' basement.

Wes tried to make it not his problem, he really did.

Until the night he woke up in a cold sweat with prophetic knowledge echoing in his brain.

Danny Fenton is Danny Phantom.

But no one would ever believe him.

#wes weston #fic #things i wrote #danny phantom #dp #dp x pjo #pjo #dp crossover #crossover #crossover danuary week #crossover danuary week 2024 #why are seers always cursed?

[wongyuuu]

sunday afternoon | mjh

pairing: jun x f!reader genre: fluff word count: 1.4k

this is part of my series, seventeen as songs from red (ts)

• Jun ➝ Begin Again But on a Wednesday, in a café, I watched it begin again ↳ everyday Jun goes to the same café in hopes that one day he’ll get enough courage to ask the cute barista out.

Jun was in deep shit.

It wasn’t anything new, him being in trouble that is. Growing up he was known as the kid who always got in trouble first but he was also the kid who could talk his way out of anything. Truth be told he was never the one who got in trouble, he knew when it was time to stop but his friends didn’t so he always took the fall for them. He did so until he realized that by taking the blame he wasn’t being a good friend he was just being stupid.

But this time around the fault was completely, entirely, truly his. It wasn’t his intention to fall for the cute barista from the café close to his work. This time it was all on him. Jun should have walked away the moment he realized that something was going on, the second he knew that he wasn’t going to the coffee shop just for coffee.

Evidence number one should have been the fact that Jun hated coffee. 

Perhaps hate was too much of a strong word, he thoroughly disliked it - the smell of it was enough to make his insides twist. He still remembers the face you made when he ordered hot chocolate on a very hot summer afternoon, you looked at him like he was insane and in that moment he truly felt like he was. Somehow every day after that he saw himself coming back. He tried to tell himself that he was only going back for the high-quality food and drinks but deep down he knew it wasn’t as simple as that.

The second piece of evidence should have been when you started to call him by his name and when you already knew what his favorite drink was.

The third evidence, and probably the most important one, was when his heart started to tickle inside his chest whenever you smiled at him.

All the other things you could do for other customers, other people who just like him went there every day, but the feeling he got whenever he saw you wasn’t normal. The giggles he felt whenever he looked at you, whenever you smiled at him.

He tried to stay away, tried to go to a different coffee shop but when the other barista came to serve him and he didn’t see you Jun felt like something was missing and he just couldn’t order a drink.

When he went back you didn’t greet him with a smile like you normally would. Instead, there was a frown on your face, like you somehow knew what he had done. And Jun felt guilty. The guilt only grew when you said:

“Are you okay? You didn’t come by yesterday”

But the guilt also turned into something else. It turned into hope. Jun was probably getting ahead of himself, making assumptions before time and way before anything could ever come close to becoming true but he also couldn’t stop himself from doing so.

He felt like a teenager who had just gotten his first crush on a girl, and partially that feeling was right. Jun had a crush. But could it really be a crush when he was twenty-seven and fully aware of what was happening? Probably not.

It took him a lot of courage to ask you out, more so than what he thought that was going to take. It wasn’t like you were intimidating; you were far from anything of sorts. You were kind, your smile being the first thing anyone noticed when they walked in. Even cranky customers would fall for you, smiling at how polite you were despite their rudeness.

All of his courage melted into a puddle at his feet when he heard you talking to a customer.

“I have a boyfriend, sorry”

Jun was too little too late. He had waited far too long. All he had left was anger. Not at you, never at you. Jun was angry at himself for being so scared all the time. It had never been like that before, if he saw a girl that he liked or someone that sparked some interest in him Jun always approached first. He had always been the one to make a move. But with you, he had been terrified that he might get rejected.

He tried to hold it back, his disappointment so when you smiled at him Jun smiled back.

“Do you want to try something different today?”

How could Jun possibly say no to you when your eyes were sparkling like that? The answer was easy: he couldn’t.

“As long as it’s not bitter”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“I’ll make sure to make something very sweet just for you” you laughed at the sound Jun made “Maybe not that sweet”

Jun swore that he could watch you work for hours without getting bored because you always seemed happy while doing it, happier than he had ever seen anyone working.

“Try this”

You handed him a to-go cup. You knew very well that Jun couldn’t stay for very long on afternoons, that almost as soon as you handed him his coffee he would nearly throw himself out of the door. It always made you wonder how far away his work actually was and why he went through all the trouble of going to the coffee shop on his 15-minute break.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Not telling” you shook your head with a smile

“Tell me tomorrow morning, okay? I’m running late”

You nodded at him despite yourself. You knew that he had to run back to his job but you always found yourself wishing that he could stay longer. Even if the store was filled with customers you always made time for Jun, made sure that he always had your undivided attention. But that day he seemed to be running faster than any other day.

Jun ran out the door before you could say anything but, for a change, you ran after him. That day just five minutes wasn’t enough.

“I’ll be back in a second,” you told Tina.

It was the middle of the afternoon so there weren’t that many customers, except for a few kids that had skipped class again.

Outside, Jun stopped, one hand in his pocket while the other one held the cup of coffee by his fingertips. He had to go back but he just didn’t want to. He felt like an idiot for holding himself back, for feeling like he had just gotten dumped when the truth was that you and he never dated.

Get a hold of yourself.

It was what he needed to do. It wasn’t the end of the world. He could meet someone else, someone who wasn’t in a relationship, someone who also liked him back. There’s a fish in the sea that will love all of your colors, Jun’s mom used to say. Perhaps you just weren’t it for Jun, maybe his fish was still out there somewhere looking for him as well.

“Jun!” he stopped and turned to look at you “Why are you so fast?”

He hadn’t taken more than four steps away from the door before you came rushing out after him.

“What’s wrong? I haven’t tried the coffee yet”

“That’s not it, no” you shook your head and took a deep breath “When are you going to ask me out?”

You don’t know what came over to ask that sort of question to Jun. Ever since high school when your dating life had officially begun, you always waited for boys to approach you. Yes, of course, you always gave them hints of what you wanted but never once you had taken the first step. But when you saw Jun walk away from the store you felt like you had to do something otherwise you would miss something very important and that something was Jun.

From the day he entered your store, from the second you came across his bright eyes you couldn’t see anything - or anyone - else. His ever inviting smile made you smile back at him. He was the first of your customers that made you take a second glance, the first one to consume your thoughts when you weren’t working. Most of the people who went through the café were just people who you would probably never see again but then Jun showed up the next day and the day after that and he kept coming back. You always thought that it was funny how he never ordered coffee, how he always wanted hot chocolate or the drink with the least amount of coffee that you could possibly make.

The first time you heard his laugh was like something changed inside of you. The feelings you had, feelings which you weren’t too sure where they came from or why they even happened in the first place, grew even bigger and so much stronger.

You thought that you had given him enough hints, enough words and smiles to make your intentions towards him clear but they had only been clear to you. For months clients had come in and asked you out, some far more aggressive than others, but your answer had always been the same “I have a boyfriend, sorry”. Those words weren’t true, clearly. You hadn’t had a boyfriend in years, someone who was by your side, someone who you wanted to hold your hand, someone who would help you get through the rough moments.

Jun was the first one who you wanted to take that place. Up until then you had dated out of convenience. Because being with someone made you feel less lonely and you were used to being around many people. Not one of your previous boyfriends made you wish to be with them in the long run, not one made you fantasize about a possible future and how it would be.

Jun made you do those things, he did it with something as simple as a smile.

Some days after you got home from long hours at work you felt like an idiot as you laid down in bed and thought about your day. Out of all the things you did that day your mind was always brought back to Jun. The way he smiled when he walked in, the way he said hi, the way fingers touched yours so briefly but even so lighted up your entire body.

With just a look in his eyes, Jun managed to color your entire world.

Jun saw you before you took notice of his presence and he swore that he could just stand there just looking at you. He couldn’t believe that he was going on a date with you until that very moment. Until he saw you there waiting for him at the park, like you both had agreed to.

You were one of the many people who were at the park on that incredibly sunny day. Young couples, people with their kids, teenagers, elders. The park was filled with all sorts of people and then there were you: sitting alone on a bench, early for a date that made you stay awake for two days on a row because you were too excited with the idea of being around Jun for more than a few minutes at a time. 

You were so out of your mind that you called your mom to talk about it which caused her to start the talk - something that made you want to crawl back into yourself and reverse time because I’m twenty-five mom, I don’t need the sex talk now.

“You’re early”

The smile that spread through your face the second you heard Jun’s voice was unstoppable, it didn’t matter that you tried to hold yourself back. It was like your mind and body weren’t working in harmony.

“First thing to know about me: I’m never late”

He nodded at you and scrunched up his nose.

“First thing to know about me: I’m always late”

“You’re always on time to get your morning… drink”

Jun laughed at the way you tried to find the words to describe his odd distaste for coffee.

“I have a really good reason to”

You thanked the gods for all the makeup you had put on the day because if you didn’t Jun would probably see how pink your cheeks turned - considering his giggle he probably already knew about it.

“We can work on your punctuality as we go” you assured him.

You weren’t even aware of the words you said until you saw the look on Jun’s face. As we go, it meant that you wanted something more with him - that just one date wasn’t going to cut it and you wanted to explore this much more - as much as you could, for as long as you could.

“Should we go for a walk?”

The entire thing felt like a dream, something out of a book or a movie. You walked around and talked with Jun for over six hours and neither of you ran out of subjects to talk about, not even for a second things got awkward between the two of you.

Most of it felt like a reunion, like you had always known each other but only found out about it that day.

“Why did you ask me to bring you here?” Jun asked as you stopped in front of the coffee shop he had become all too familiar with.

“I live here, over the cafe. Because I need to get here early to start preparing it’s easier if I just live close to it” at his confused face you continued “I own the place Jun, that’s why it’s easier”

Suddenly it was like a light had been turned on inside his head.

“That would explain so much! For instance, how you always give me free cupcakes on mondays”

“I was trying to cheer you up! You look very close to a dead person on monday”

Jun pulled you closer to him at the same time that he took a step forward. His face was so close to yours, you could see very little detail, every single sand trait in his eyes. There wasn’t a single part of him that didn’t make your heart beat faster.

“After an afternoon sunday date, what do you think about an early monday date?”

You leaned up, your lips nearly touching his ear.

“How about you come in and we can decide what we call it later?”

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