#(parents suck sometimes. it's not your fault. it never ever is.)

[wongyuseokie]

Teardrops On My Guitar | h.j.s

Summary: You loved him, but he was your best friend. While he sometimes blurred the lines, he never saw you more than that. Since he was your best friend and you were so in love, you’d break yourself apart for him. You watched him fall in love with everyone, but you only question for how long? ☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕smut | ♥ completed works

Word Count: 19,760 words

Pairings: Joshua Hong x Female Reader Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Unrequited Love AU! (don’t say I didn’t warn you; this really won’t be a nice one). Slice of Life AU! Fluff, Angst, Smut (the holy trinity, if you will) 

Content Warnings: Yelling, swearing, crying, arguments, toxic coping mechanisms, smut, unprotected sex (don’t do this). Smut Warnings: Fingering, oral (male and female receiving). multiple orgasms, squirting, hand jobs. Body insecurities, bitchy drama from other girls (let's lift each other up). Slut-shaming.  Authors Note 1: I think All Too Well was painful for me to write because that was the story about how a relationship that I deemed perfect fell apart, but this one hurts me more because this is a story I hate reliving so much. After all, this is the story of how I fell in love with my best friend and how I never told him (sort of), but now I had to watch him fall in love with everyone but me. This story is a letter to myself back then. I wish I loved myself more back then. 

Author’s Note 2: This is a Seventeen rewrite of an old fic of mine, so if it looks familiar, that’s why hehe.  Authors Note 3: Thank you so much to the following people for reading this for me @shuadotcom @gyuwoncheol @okiedokrie @wonuvs

© wongyuseokie 2024. All rights reserved.

High school sucked. It was a universal truth. 

But you felt like some days it sucked for you more than it did for others. You felt awkward, you didn’t make friends easily – if ever. You basically had just two friends, while every morning on the school bus, you’d hear chatter about someone getting drunk or kissing someone at a party. 

You would have to take a deep breath and pretend you didn’t care. But you didn’t even have enough friends to hold a party, let alone be invited to one. Hell, you couldn’t remember the last time you partied.

You even celebrated your birthday with your parents last year, entering the fifteenth year of your life in your bedroom, watching movies and spending time with your parents. And you didn’t really mind it. You just wished you had someone who wanted to spend time with you. 

The worst thing was hearing about other girls your age having lavish birthdays, having their first kiss, and whatnot made you realise that you had no experience of any of that. This sucked completely,considering that everything felt like a competition in high school. 

Who could get their first kiss before anyone else? Who could lose their virginity first? Forget virginity; you had never even kissed a guy. A proper kiss. Not a stupid peck, but an adequate kiss – one of those you saw in movies. 

You were convinced that the only way you’d ever get your first kiss would be if you were granted a magical makeover where the universe would give you a new face, a slimmer body, and more proportionate features. 

Your mother said you were pretty, but what mother wouldn’t? Some stupid boys in your high school took it upon themselves to tell you throughout your entire middle school years how undesirable you were. They would pretend that their eyes burnt if they saw you and they acted like you were Medusa. In some ways, you could relate. You, too, felt like you had a curse that wasn’t your fault either. You tried all the beauty hacks, scrubbing your face with homemade sugar scrubs and buying concealers that were too light to wear, all because you just wanted to be pretty. 

Feel a little worthy. 

Now that you were older, you knew their hurtful words were untrue. And no, you didn’t suddenly have an epiphany and start believing you were a beauty queen, but you knew not to take such awful comments to heart. Yet, you couldn’t help how they’d sometimes seep into your mind. 

However, as you stood outside your dorm room as a fresher at university, you couldn’t help but wish this was your chance to begin again. You had a new start; no one here knew you from high school; you weren’t back in your small town; you were in the city. You could start over. 

Your bullies, past, and insecurities didn’t follow you here, so maybe this would be the time you’d finally be able to restart. Get a new lease on life.

“Oof, sorry,” a voice apologised as its owner bumped into you, making you look up from the floor. You were met with dark brown eyes filled with kindness, compassion, and, at this moment, regret for bumping into you. 

You looked away from the stranger’s eyes to take him in. He was tall and devastatingly handsome, with a giant grin adorning his handsome face, and you immediately felt like you were thrown back into high school. Guys like him would either mock your appearance or ignore you, pretend you were a wallflower. 

Girls like you didn’t get guys like him. 

You immediately looked to the ground and mumbled an apology. 

“Hey, what are you apologising for? I bumped into you, and I bumped into my flatmate. Nice to meet you. I’m Joshua!” The handsome man introduced himself, holding his hand to you, and you accepted it gingerly as you shook it. 

“What’s your name?” Joshua asked. 

“Y/N,” you replied. 

“Well, I’m excited for fresher’s week! I think it’s so cool that we get to live in co-ed living spaces and get to be adults. I’m also glad that our rooms both have an ensuite, thank fuck. Not the biggest fan of sharing bathrooms,” Joshua rambled, then laughed when he saw your confused expression. 

“Sorry, oversharing with my neighbour within a second of bumping into you isn’t the best first impression, is it?” Joshua joked, and you shrugged, shooting him a smile. 

“Okay, well, I got to finish moving in, but will you be coming across the hall for the freshers’ party? I have a couple of friends I’m going with, but I’d love for you to join us! Unless you already have plans?” Joshua asked.

You shook your head, stunned. Was this reality? 

Someone willingly invited you somewhere, not out of force or school obligation but because they wanted to ask you. 

“I’d like that,” you finally answered, making Joshua smile.

“Well, Y/N, apparently freshers have been told to wear comfy footwear, whatever that means, but how about I knock at your door at nine, and we can leave together?” Joshua offered, and you nodded as you hurried back into your room, slamming the door behind you. 

You were beyond confused. You had plenty of outfits to choose from, but the one time you wore a skirt to your high school disco, you heard a few comments calling you a try-hard and an attention seeker, so you went home and threw the skirt into the back of your closet never to be seen again. And now, that skirt was in your hands again, reminding you of crappy memories and the fact it was impractical as it had no pockets. 

You decided to wear jeans instead. Jeans were a safe option. You chose a black, strappy top with some sequins and threw on a black leather jacket. 

The outfit was inspired by several hours of Pinterest-related shopping you did before arriving at university. You wanted a fresh start, which also meant fresh outfits. You wanted everything to be new. 

You grabbed your white striped Converse and put them outside, on the floor next to the foot of your university bed, a modest single. You also decided to shower, shave and exfoliate. You didn’t think Joshua would find you remotely attractive, but you wanted to at least feel somewhat pretty. 

A couple of hours later, you were putting on your silver hoops when you heard a knock on your door. 

“It’s open,” you said and smiled at Joshua as he walked into your room in tight-fitted jeans and a loose black tee tucked in and completed with a black belt. 

“You look nice,” Joshua complimented.

You hissed as you poked your ear with your earring at his compliment. “Ouch!” you yelped.

Joshua’s eyes widened as he approached you, taking the earring out of your hand and helping you to put it on. “Did I startle you or something?” he asked, his voice too close to you, breath fanning over your neck. 

“I just… I don’t get compliments, so yeah, I guess you did,” you admitted, feeling stupid for admitting something like that to a perfect stranger. He would probably think you were weird now and walk away. 

“Well, that’s a shame. You deserve plenty,” Joshua said genuinely as he squeezed your shoulder, smiling widely at you.

And for the first time in so long, you felt like there was hope for your heart, and for you to find and experience everything you never got to in high school. 

The void in your heart… maybe Joshua could be one who could fill it. 

“Oh, Y/N, by the way! They’re having a flat party. Everyone said that the freshers’ party is usually kind of boring and that nothing much happens. They were talking about things like safe sex, and I’m sure we’re all tired of that conversation from high school,” Joshua joked as you two walked out of your shared dorm and across the hall where you stood as he informed you of the flat party. 

“How many people will be there, though?” you asked, feeling insecurity and fear flood your system. You didn’t want a ton of eyes on you in your outfit. You didn’t want to hear the whispers that would inevitably make you curl up and cry into your pillow all night. 

“I think twenty, give or take. It’ll be our flat and the one across ours,” Joshua replied, and you pondered over the thought of meeting nineteen new people – people who could judge, mock and make fun of you. 

“Hey, you’re my next-door neighbour—well, our doors are opposite one another—you are now my friend, and I’ll keep you protected. If anyone tries shit, I’ll smack them,” Joshua vowed, making you giggle. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked, smiling as he watched you giggle. 

“I just tried to imagine you even trying to beat someone up,” you replied, wiping the tears of laughter that collected in your eyes, making Joshua laugh at you. 

“Oh, but I am fiercely loyal. Trust me, when it comes to protecting those I care about, I’ll fight,” Joshua said seriously. 

You nodded, following him across the hall to the other flat as you two walked into the kitchen, where drinks were being poured, and you could tell several people were already quite drunk. You swore you saw a couple exchange a few kisses. 

“Hi, we’re from flat 2A! Our flatmates told us about the party!” Joshua introduced himself, and one of the guys, who introduced himself as Jeonghan, approached you and Joshua. 

“Well, 2A, welcome to flat 2B! We do have alcohol to spare, but if you want more, you’ll have to bring your own,” Jeonghan explained, the smile never leaving his face, and Joshua nodded as he brandished a bottle of soju from his coat pocket. 

“I’ve got us sorted,” Joshua grinned, and Jeonghan smiled again as he welcomed you two. 

“Y/N, have a seat next to me. We 2A’s need to stick together,” Joshua joked as he guided you to the black couches, where he helped introduce you to the other students. You exchanged several words with Nia and felt she could be a good friend. She had kind eyes and a soft smile, something you were never used to ever seeing. 

“Alright, I’m bored. Can we play a drinking game? It’s the easiest way to get to know one another,” another girl, whose name you couldn’t recall, complained, immediately grinning when everyone agreed. 

You could see she had no actual malice. She just wanted to party. Not everyone you’d meet in life would be your high school bully. This was something you’d have to remind yourself of during every interaction. 

“Okay, what do you want to play, Nia?” Jeonghan asked as he joined her.

“Truth or dare! But take a shot if you want to skip the dare or truth?” Nia suggested.

Everyone nodded–including you, even if your heart beat wildly in your chest. What if someone asked you something like if you were a virgin? You’d lie, but the stammering would give it away. Then again, you had been a wallflower all your life. No one would ever pick you, you convinced yourself as you took a large sip of Jeonghan’s concoction. 

It tasted more like he poured pure alcohol in and sprinkled in some diet coke to mask the fact he did not know how to mix a damn drink, but it was a drink you were thankful for. It gave you a nice buzz, lowering your inhibitions and fears. 

“Okay,” Jeonghan said after three rounds. Everyone had a pretty good buzz, and the questions and dares were getting more unfiltered and scandalous with each game. “Joshua, I dare you to give Y/N a peck on the lips,” Jeonghan said smugly, making you gulp and swallow the remainder of your drink. 

As you sighed, you didn’t think the party would come to this, but you realised you were fooling yourself. People would always care about this, and you didn’t fancy being a laughingstock. 

“Wait, Y/N, where are you going?” Jeonghan asked, genuine concern lacing his voice. Joshua stood up, shooting Jeonghan a slight glare. 

“I just, uh, want to go to bed; you know the alcohol has hit me,” you mumbled quickly as you nearly ran out of the flat and straight back to yours. You rushed into your room, taking a seat on your bed as you took deep breaths. 

It was okay; he wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow, and you’d avoid it if needed. 

“You should lock your door, you know,” Joshua’s voice startled you as you stood up from your bed at his sudden presence. 

“Can I talk to you?” he asked, and you nodded, knowing there was nowhere to run. 

Then again, there was that large window… But if you leapt out of it, you’d fall into a bush of poison ivy, so you decided to take the scarier option of engaging in conversation. 

“I’m sorry if Jeonghan went too far with that dare,” Joshua apologised as he sat down on your bed, and you sighed, shaking your head, joining him. 

“No, it’s just… I didn’t want to make you feel repulsed by doing something you didn’t want to do,” you admitted.

Joshua turned to face you. “That’s the last thing I’d feel if I kissed you. You’re so beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to kiss you,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I wouldn’t know what to do,” you admitted, causing him to smile softly at you. 

“May I?” Joshua asked, and your breath hitched, knowing what he meant, “not because I feel obliged, but because I want to,” he added, and you finally nodded, making him smile as he moved closer to place his soft lips on yours. 

You didn’t know what to do, so you followed his movements, the way he moved his mouth ever so slowly against yours. He was kissing you like you were made of glass, and it made you feel like you were a crystal sculpture. 

Fragile yet beautiful, his kiss made you feel worthy. Joshua smiled as he pulled away. 

“Wow,” you whispered. 

“Wow?” he asked, and you nodded. 

“I’ve never had a kiss like this, just a stupid peck. But this one felt like a real kiss, so yeah… this one felt nice,” you admitted as Joshua nodded. “Sorry if I didn’t know what I was doing or it sucked, though, I just—oomph,” your rambling was cut off by his lips as they pressed against yours again.

You felt him smirk against your lips as he pulled away slowly. “You were fine,” Joshua clarified, and you nodded at him. “Look, the party isn’t over, and more people have joined. I think they’re playing music, and they’ve dimmed the lights, so if you want, we can go back?” he offered, smiling at you.

You hesitated. 

“Or I can grab another bottle of soju, and we can put a movie on? Or I can leave you alone?” Joshua offered. 

You smiled at him. “How about a movie?” you chose.

Joshua nodded with a grin. “Be right back! Let me go get the bottle of soju from my room. You pick the movie, but nothing horror,” he added as he left your room. 

You smiled in his wake. 

This was your new beginning. You could start afresh. 

~~

Two weeks in, lectures had started. Joshua had become your partner in crime, your closest friend. You had also grown closer to Jeonghan and Nia; they had become part of your little friendship group, and you felt wanted and included for the first time.

You felt needed, seen, and appreciated. It was everything you ever wanted. 

“Yo!” Joshua yelled, barging into your room one evening while you were reviewing your lecture material for the following day. 

“Do you bother knocking anymore?” You chuckled, shaking your head as Joshua got comfortable on your bed, kicking off his shoes as he lay down. 

“No. Friends don’t bother with formalities,” he told you smugly, making you roll your eyes at him. 

“Why are you here, anyway? I thought you and Jeonghan wanted to go to a social?” you asked him. 

“Yes, but apparently, Jeonghan and Nia decided to go on a date or something, I don’t know,” he mumbled, making your eyes widen. 

“Wait, what?” you exclaimed, and Joshua shrugged. 

“I don’t know. Nia didn’t give me a straight answer, just kept blushing, and Jeonghan just smirked,” he answered as he shrugged off his leather jacket and threw it to the floor. 

“Shua, are you planning on crashing or something?” you asked, putting your pen down and turning to face him, and he grinned at you. 

“Come on, it’s movie night,” Joshua whined playfully, making you smile. 

“Oh, shut up, you’re only here because Jeonghan ditched your ass, and I’m the second choice,” you joked, but you couldn’t help the thread of insecurity that weaved its way into you. 

“See, normally, I’d let that slide, but I know you might take that to heart. Hey, I live across the hall from you, and you’re one of my closest friends here, okay? I don’t want you ever to think that you’re my second choice,” he assured you softly as he got up to wrap his arms around you. 

That was a new thing you got used to: Joshua’s extreme affection - his need to touch and feel loved through the act of touch. It was new to you, but you weren’t entirely mad either. It felt nice being wanted and being a source of comfort to him. 

“Now, stop doodling flowers on your lecture notes and join me. I want to watch something,” he teased, and you nodded, smiling shyly as you saw the flowers etched into your work. 

“Shall we do a Pixar night?” He then suggested. 

“Always,” you smiled, nodding as you joined him on the bed. 

As you sat down, Joshua immediately pulled you to his side. Soon enough, he was curled into you as he held you during the movie, either babbling nonsense or pointing out things you never knew existed in the film. You loved that about him, you thought to yourself. You loved his ability to see the beauty in everything. 

You paused as you stared blankly at the screen. 

Was that it? Did you love him? 

Were you falling for your best friend? 

The man who took you seriously for once and made you feel seen, were you falling in love with him?

You knew you were falling for the man who could see the beauty in everything. 

You wondered hard that night… would he be able to see the beauty in you?

~~

“So, how was your date with Jeonghan then?” you asked Nia, who had just sat across you with her breakfast. 

She shook her head. “It wasn’t a date. I needed to talk to Jeonghan, that’s all,” Nia explained, and you nodded at her. 

“You two would make a cute couple, though?” You joked, earning a scoff from Nia. 

“What would you know about relationships? Aren’t you forever single or something?” she snapped at you out of nowhere, making you feel like all your progress with your friends over the past month crumbled in a second. 

“I…” You opened your mouth to defend yourself until you realised Nia was right. You were no one to give anyone any relationship advice. 

“That’s what I thought. So keep your comments to yourself. Just because you kissed Joshua once does not mean you know a thing,” she added unnecessarily, her words pouring more salt into the wounds you kept so hard to keep closed. 

Why did Nia know that Joshua had kissed you? And why was she using it as an insult? Did she find it laughable, or did Joshua embellish the story and tell them that he only ever kissed you because you were like a wounded puppy, and he felt sorry for you?

“I need to go,” you mumbled before speeding away, feeling nauseous as you returned to the dorms. 

Would Joshua ever hurt you like that? You didn’t think so, but guys like him were never meant to be with girls like you. 

“Yo, what’s up?” 

You heard Joshua’s voice as you walked into the standard room, and instead of reacting like you usually did, you ducked out of the room and ran to your own. Just as you were about to close the door, Joshua’s large hand pushed between the space and wedged himself into your room. 

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked. 

You sighed, not realising that the tears had fallen down your face. “Nothing,” you mumbled weakly, earning an eye roll from Joshua as he grabbed your books out of your hands and placed them on your desk. 

He then held your hand as he walked you to your bed and sat you down. “What happened? I know something did. I’ve seen your happy tears, and these aren’t them. What’s wrong?” he repeated, his hands moving to cup your face. 

“Fuck, Shua! How did Nia know about us kissing that night?” you burst out, making Joshua frown. 

“Fuck, I was talking to Jeonghan. I didn’t think he’d blab to her. Why, what did she do?” he asked. 

“I just… I was teasing her about Jeonghan and her going on a date, and she got annoyed. So I thought to diffuse the tension, I’d joke and say that she and Jeonghan would make a cute couple. She lashed out at that. She asked me what I would ever know about relationships, as I’m a forever single girl. Then, when I couldn’t say anything, she said, “Just because I kissed you, I shouldn’t assume that I know anything,” you admitted, feeling more tears falling down your face as you recalled the comments. 

“What the fuck? Why would she say that? Listen, you can always give relationship advice without being in one, okay? I’ll find out what’s wrong with her, but what she said is so beyond fucked up,” Joshua snarled. You could tell he was angry. 

“That’s not necessary, Shua. But… I want to know why Jeonghan even knew about the kiss,” you mumbled.

Joshua frowned as he sat down next to you. “I’m sorry. We were just chatting, and it slipped,” he apologised. 

“Well, you should be more careful. It’s not fucking okay to do that,” you muttered.

Joshua’s eyes widened at your tone. “Why? Is it embarrassing to kiss me?” he accused, and you stared at him in shock. 

“Oh, don’t even go there. You know I’m the one people laugh at and look at funny. The one everyone knows got a pity invite. And now they all probably think that you kissed me out of pity, too, and now they’re laughing at me!” you ranted, making Joshua scoff at you. 

“I don’t know that much. You don’t let me in about a lot in your personal life or your past, but no one pities you here. No one thinks that—only you do,” Joshua commented, making you feel small. 

“We all have a past, and I’m not trying to fucking invalidate yours, but you need to get over whatever happened to you in high school. This is a fresh start, so instead of victimising yourself every chance you get, maybe get out of that self-pity bubble you’ve trapped yourself in and realise that people might give a fuck about you! But if you keep wallowing and crying over stupid shit like this, then no one will want to be your friend for real,” he huffed out.

When you didn’t speak, Joshua looked up to see how you looked even more devastated than when you came in initially crying over Nia’s comments; he had made you cry more. 

“Y/N—” Joshua started to say, but you shook your head at him. 

“You’re right. I’m being a pain in the ass,” you mumbled, making Joshua groan. 

“That’s not what I’m trying to say, but if that’s how you keep taking it, then sure, you might as well be,” he added, and you nodded. 

“Can you leave? I have an assignment due tomorrow,” you mumbled, getting off your bed and walking to your desk, turning your back to Joshua, making it clear you wanted to be left alone. 

Joshua felt like a complete moron. He knew he was being a dick, but he didn’t like how you spoke in riddles. He didn’t like that. He wanted proper sentences, and you gave him emotion but no real problem. 

Joshua tossed and turned in his bed that night. What was your past? Why were you always suspicious of anyone who wanted to be your friend? Why were you always so guarded? 

He didn’t bother taking the time to look at the clock. Instead, he jumped out of bed and out of his room across the hall and pounded on your door until you opened it, glaring at him. 

“You could have woken up the entire fucking flat,” you hissed as you let him in. 

“Tell me,” Joshua breathed out, and you stared at him, confused. 

“Tell you what?” you asked.

“What happened in your past?” He asked as he sat on your bed, immediately getting comfortable under your blanket. 

“Didn’t you, just like, a few hours ago, oh, I don’t know, tell me to not wallow in my sadness and that I should get over it?” you mocked. 

Joshua sank, shaking his head for a second and holding his hand to you. “Sit. Tell me. Look, I was careless with my words. I just wanted you to stop feeling terrible. But instead of saying that or taking measures to ensure that, I lashed out. I don’t like seeing people sad, but I can be quite clueless when helping them out,” Joshua admitted. You nodded, sitting on the bed but not taking his hand to make a point. 

“I don’t know what it was about me, whether it was my hair, skin or whatever… Maybe I had a goofy smile? And I guess no one liked that? Maybe? I don’t know. All I know is that the kids in my school suddenly decided that I wasn’t worth being friends with,” you started out, struggling to keep your voice steady as you recalled your painful memories, opening old wounds that you had only wrapped in gauze, never adequately healing them. 

“All these students… they would never include me in games or let me sit at their table during lunch, so I’d play alone, eat alone. And then, one year, a group of guys thought it’d be great to act like I was so hideous that they’d cover their eyes for fear of being burned by my ugly face or something,” you mumbled. 

You noticed Joshua’s jaw clench out of the corner of your eyes.

“That went on for a year, the calling me ugly things, but the general feeling and act of being excluded from everything happened and continued until the last day of school. If I’m being honest, everyone just acted as if I inconvenienced them, so I carry that, Shua. I assume I’m always a burden no matter where I go.”

“I fucking hate that, but, and I ask this not to blame you, but out of genuine curiosity and concern, did no one know?” Joshua asked. 

You sighed. 

“Teachers weren’t blind. They knew, but if no one was physically attacking me, they kept their mouths shut. I told a counsellor, and her advice to me was that I should seek compassion for those who bully me because they’re probably victims of bullying themselves,” you scoffed, recalling the god-awful advice the counsellor gave you. 

“What about your parents?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head. 

“Never, no. I mean, I’m sure they guessed. I never had any birthday parties, but I didn’t want to tell them,” you mumbled. 

“Why?” Joshua asked, and you shrugged. 

“I felt stupid because everyone else in school could make friends; they could go a full day without being bullied or mocked or made fun of, and I couldn’t, and I didn’t want to burden them,” you admitted, letting out a muffled sob. 

“They’re your parents; they wouldn’t think you’re being a burden. You’re their daughter,” Joshua offered, and you shrugged. 

“I wore a skirt to a school disco once, and all the others could do was point out how funny I looked. Everything and anything I did in school, I felt like a hundred eyes watching me, waiting for me to fuck up,” you explained, taking a deep breath. 

“All through school, I lived like that, so forgive me for being cautious when a new guy—especially a guy like you—openly welcomes me as his friend,” you mumbled, making Joshua quirk his brows at you. 

“A guy like me?” Joshua asked.

“A hot and handsome guy. A guy like you would be the boyfriend of one of the pretty girls, someone like Nia. You’d be with her, and you two would give me sickly sweet smiles before laughing at me the minute my back was turned, and I – I guess I know you’re not that kind of a person, but when Nia snapped at me and used the fact you kissed me as an attack… it felt like that I was back in high school,” you admitted. 

“I see,” Joshua said before turning you around to face him. “I’m going to ask you something, and you need to be honest with me, okay?” Joshua asked. You nodded. “Did you think I was mocking you when I told Jeonghan we kissed?” he asked.

You nodded slowly. “I know you wouldn’t, but… I have a past where guys that looked like you and Jeonghan would mock me, and girls like Nia would get guys like you while I sat on the sidelines and watched,” you reasoned, and Joshua nodded. 

“You’ve survived a lot, and I’m sorry you even had to go through it in the first place, but please know one thing: I’m not going to ever hurt you like that,” Joshua said, kissing your hand softly. 

“I kissed you that night because I wanted to, not because I felt pity or anything. Girls like Nia… I don’t know what to make of that sentence, but I kissed you, not her. I find you beautiful, and I’ll gladly go blue in the face repeating it to you,” Joshua proclaimed, making you smile. 

“It’s not out of pity either. I wish you could see yourself the way I do one day,” he inched forward. 

“Can I?” He finally asked.

You nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt his soft lips on yours. Moments later, Joshua pulled away and smiled at you. 

“You’re beautiful. And I hope you’ll understand that every time I kiss you, it’s not because I have an ulterior motive but because I want to.” 

You didn’t know how to respond, so you simply blushed and smiled at him, nodding. 

“Now cuddle me. I want to sleep, and I know you don’t have an assignment tomorrow, considering you messaged me saying freedom in capitals,” Joshua joked as he pulled you into his arms. 

You couldn’t help but melt at the fact that he remembered that little detail that would haunt you and make you overthink everything Joshua would ever do. 

~~

You had never slept next to a boy before. Let alone wake up with his arms wrapped around your waist and his leg thrown over yours. But here you were the following day – laying in Joshua’s vice-like embrace.ou moved slightly to get up, and you thought you were successful until you heard Joshua let out a soft moan. 

You froze. You were sure that was just a regular moan he would let out in his sleep until he moved his leg, and you felt his hardness against your inner thigh. You might have never felt the touch of another pair of lips on yours until a month ago, but you weren’t an idiot. You could tell an erection when you felt one. You knew Joshua was turned on. But then again, you recalled reading that sometimes men just get hard for no reason.

That was it, you thought to yourself. It wasn’t because he was attracted to you; it was simply because there was a concept known as ‘morning wood’, and Joshua was prominently exhibiting it. Still, you couldn’t help feeling butterflies in your stomach. You couldn’t help the arousal you felt start to pool in your panties. 

You were a virgin, not a moron; you knew what was happening to you. And you needed Joshua to leave as soon as possible so that you could take care of the problem he caused. 

“Joshua,” you mumbled, trying to move away from him, which only made him move against you more, allowing his length to brush against your inner thigh over and over. He was incredibly long, is what you gathered. Very well endowed. 

“Stop moving,” Joshua mumbled sleepily as he pulled you tighter to him, moving his hips again as his length brushed against you, this time dangerously close to your aching cunt. You knew you needed to stop him before it escalated, and he regretted it. 

“Shua!” you yelped, pinching him, making him groan as he jolted awake, glaring at you as you broke free from his embrace. 

“Woman, will you let me sleep?” Joshua complained, his morning voice doing nothing to ease the ache in your pussy. It was so husky and deep… You wanted that voice to wake up to every morning for the rest of your life. 

“Not until that goes away!” you blurted out, making Joshua look at you funny until he followed your gaze down to his cock–his very hard cock. 

“Oh fuck! Well… this is just a normal thing,” Joshua said, chuckling, and you knew you hated how that made you feel. You wished to be the reason to arouse him, but he chalked it up to biology. “If I’m not out of line in saying this, you would also cause a similar problem, and holding you in my arms like that last night…  felt nice. So I’m sure my body was showing its appreciation in ways I didn’t,” he explained further, making you look down at the duvet with a stupid smile adorning your face. 

“Joshua, if you need to take care of it, you should do it. I don’t know what to do,” you mumbled quickly, earning a nod from Joshua. 

“Wait, ever?” Joshua asked, hating how incredulity laced his voice. 

“No. You don’t need to sound so shocked,” you mumbled, feeling defensive. 

“I’m not; I’m sorry, it’s the ass crack of dawn, and my brain is barely functioning,” Joshua defended.

You rolled your eyes at him. “And yet your cock was nestled in my ass crack,” you teased, your eyes widening in horror when you realised what you said. 

“Did you like it?” Joshua suddenly asked; his demeanour changed as he leaned back against the wooden headboard, making you gulp. 

His erection was more prominent with this slight adjustment. 

“I asked you a question. Did you like my cock rubbing against you,” Joshua repeated, this time his eyes burning into yours, and you knew you couldn’t lie. 

“What am I meant to say? I’m human,” you replied lamely, hoping it’d give him enough of an answer for him just to drop it. 

“So, it turned you on?” Joshua asked instead. 

You glared at him. “Why do you want to know?” 

Joshua smiled at you, admitting, “Because to think you are turned on… it’s fucking hot,”  

You wanted to yell but bit your lip to avoid verbalising your thoughts. 

“It’s even hotter knowing that I’m the reason behind it,” he added, and you kept staring at the duvet. 

“You should go,” you said abruptly, making him look at you in confusion. 

Even you weren’t entirely sure why you said that. 

Well, you did know why you didn’t want to be intimate with him: for fear that he’d take one look at what you had to offer and be repulsed. You’d be led to believe so what would stop him?

“If I overstepped,” he started to say, and you shook your head and held your hand out to him. 

“You didn’t! Just go!” you rushed, getting off the bed, indicating to Joshua that he, too, should leave. 

“I’ll catch you later?” Joshua quietly offered, and you nodded, waving to him awkwardly as he walked out of your room.

You let out a breath you were holding after he left. 

You shook your head, cursing yourself for kicking him out, but you knew you did the right thing. Joshua, just like any other man, had eyes and would be disgusted once he saw what you hid under your clothes. 

~~

Later that day, you walked into your lecture hall, cursing, when you saw that the only empty seat left was the one next to Nia. You sighed as you moved to sit down next to her, and she hesitated for a second before moving her bag down to the floor allowing you to sit next to her. 

“Hey,” you mumbled. 

You weren’t entirely sure why you were trying to converse with her when she had been rude to you, but you didn’t have many friends. This meant you didn’t have very high standards or understand boundaries.

“Hi,” Nia replied. Her tone was clipped. 

You assumed it was because she didn’t want to be disruptive during a lecture. She gave you a tight-lipped smile before returning to the front of the screen. 

“Y/N, hold up,” Nia called after you as you started to walk out of the lecture theatre once the professor had dismissed everyone. “Thanks for ratting me out to Joshua, by the way,” she taunted, and your eyes widened. 

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said to you. That was really shit. But you ran to Joshua, who then told Jeonghan, and then Jeonghan took it upon himself to lecture me about being kind to one another for twenty minutes. Either way, I shouldn’t have said what I said, so this is my apologies. 

“We good?” Nia asked, and you nodded. 

Not understanding what boundaries meant and not having many friends made you realise that your bar for human decency could have been higher. They needed to be higher. You knew that what Nia said to you was barely an apology. It was more of an “I’m sorry you got offended” apology, a shallow apology usually reserved for celebrities and their notes app. 

“It’s fine, I’m sorry, it’s just that Joshua caught me crying that day, and I guess I ended up telling him everything,” you rambled, biting your tongue, realising that you should have done it sooner, for it would have prevented you from oversharing.

Your bond with Joshua was sacred; you didn’t want any other girl or anyone to come in between that. You knew it was selfish and childish, but he held your entire life in his hands, and he didn’t know it. 

“So, are you two close friends then?” Nia asked as you two walked down the hall to the quad. 

“Yes,” you confirmed. You were shy about most things, but not this. You were his friend, one of his closest. 

“Then, do you know if he’s currently got his eyes on anyone?” Nia asked, her tone lowering slightly and your eyes widening at her question. 

“Wait, what?” you asked, and Nia smiled at you, the kind of smile that reminded you of the girls in school who called you pretty – only to say that you were pretty ugly. 

“Oh, I’m just screwing with you. He’s hot, but don’t worry. I don’t need your advice to get him. Besides, he and I have already kissed once,” Nia casually stated, making your heart sink. 

“What? When?” you asked, your voice a mere whisper. 

“Oh, you know, the night you chickened out for the dare to get pecked by Joshua? Someone dared him to kiss me after you left, and he did. I have to say I wanted to know what else he could do with his mouth,” Nia chuckled, making you feel like your stomach was twisting. 

You needed to leave. 

You couldn’t hear this. 

“I have to rush back, but I’ll catch you later?” you rushed, and Nia smirked, nodding and sending you a sickly-sweet smile. 

You were beyond thankful that your feet still moved because your mind was starting to malfunction and short-circuit. 

Joshua kissed you after he kissed Nia. That meant it was a pity kiss. And not only that, you were so taken away by the sweet cherry taste on his lips. Now it hit you that the taste was not only cherry but also peach, and it wasn’t his lip balm. It was hers. 

Joshua had kissed you without even bothering to remove the evidence that he kissed Nia minutes ago. 

But it wasn’t his fault, you thought. You were so desperate to be loved and feel the intimacy – to feel a proper kiss, the kind of kisses your friends bragged about – that you didn’t care that your first proper kiss was not only a pity kiss but that you also tasted another woman’s lip balm with it. 

You felt so stupid. 

Joshua had lied to you about what the kiss meant and failed to tell you that he kissed Nia. But then again, he was under no obligation to tell you anything. Where his lips went was not your business. You weren’t his girlfriend. You were just his friend. 

“Y/N, keep storming around like that, and you’ll burn a hole into the rug,” Joshua joked, his voice interrupting your thoughts when you realised that while you were busy ripping yourself to shreds, you reached back to the dorms. “Oh, by the way, I got something I want to show you. Can I show you in your room?” he asked excitedly. 

You couldn’t help the jealousy, bitterness, and anger that overtook your following words. “Sure, but are you sure that you didn’t show Nia first and are putting on an act now, pretending to show me?” you spat at him, taking Joshua aback. 

“Run that by me again?” he asked, and you scoffed as you opened your room door. Joshua walked in behind you, making you glare at him. 

“You kissed Nia that night. The night you kissed me, the first night. You kissed her and then kissed me,” you mumbled, hating how vulnerable and weak you sounded at this moment.

Joshua kept going from being your safe space to a man who toyed with your feelings. 

“I, fuck, how did you find out?” he asked, running his hand over his face and letting out a deep exhale, and you stared at him. 

“You’re not going to deny it?” you asked, and Joshua shrugged. 

“I’m not going to lie to you,” he offered bluntly, making you scoff. 

“You had no problem lying to me that night,” you countered, and Joshua shook his head at you. 

“I didn’t lie. I omitted a fact. But yeah, you’re right. Why did this conversation even occur? What did Nia say, exactly?” 

You sighed at Joshua’s questions. “Doesn’t matter. The point is that you kissed me after you kissed her,” you mumbled.

Joshua frowned as he inched closer to you to place his hands on your face, making you look at him. “Why does that matter?” he asked so innocently that you felt like you couldn’t even be upset. 

But you were. “Because I was a consolation kiss! You might not see it that way, but I fucking do, Joshua! I do. And you know what? It fucking sucks to know that you only kissed me because you felt bad for me. You kissed me after kissing the pretty girl, too, to what? Show that you’re capable of charity?” you accused. 

Joshua groaned. “I get your past, and I get why it’s making you lash out in the ways it is, but you cannot compare everything I do to the people who fucked you over in the past! I’m not one of them,” Joshua defended, earning a dry laugh from you. 

“Really? Because you are sure as shit fucking me over like them. I don’t want you kissing me or saying lewd things when you get hard from cuddling me because you think it’s easy to fuck with my feelings. I might not have any experience with all this, Joshua, but I have plenty of experience with being hurt and fucked over. You’re not the one I expected it to come from, though,” you spat back. 

Joshua just sighed. “Look, come find me when you want to talk like an adult. But if every little piece of gossip sets you off like this, I cannot keep up,” Joshua announced as he stormed out of your room. 

It was only your room he left… so why did it feel like he walked out of your life and broke your heart with the door as it slammed shut behind him?

~~

You didn’t talk to Joshua for two weeks. 

You’d bump into him often. How could you not? He stayed across from you, and it was hard to avoid your neighbour. Except it seemed like he would go out of his way to ignore you and express his disdain for you. 

At first, you assumed you were being dramatic, just like Joshua would call you dramatic. Maybe he, too, realised he wanted nothing to do with you, just like everyone else. 

“Penny, for your thoughts?” the guy suddenly asked you one day when you returned from your lecture. 

“You’re talking to me now?” you asked, puzzled. Joshua smiled, nodding. 

“I thought I wasn’t enough of an adult?” you snapped, making Joshua wince as you unlocked your door. 

However, he still followed you inside your room, making you narrow your eyes at him. 

“I didn’t realise I invited you in?” you asked, and he frowned, looking down at his feet. 

“I know I did something shitty to you, and it’s even worse because I wasn’t an adult myself. Hell, I stormed out of your room,” Joshua admitted, chuckling, and you sighed deeply at him. 

“I know I was too much. I just have a past,” you mumbled, and Joshua nodded. 

“I’m not trying to negate it, Y/N, but at some point you need to move past it. You have a clean slate to do whatever you want; why don’t you take advantage of that?” Joshua offered, and you nodded at him. 

“I know, and I get it. But with my past, Shua, I just – I let it haunt me so much that I end up struggling to believe that anyone could ever like me for me,” you admitted, and Joshua frowned as he moved to stand in front of you, his tall frame dwarfing you. 

“I’m so sorry that I was not more understanding. Truly, I am. I should have been, fuck. I just let my immaturity get the best of me,” Joshua apologised, and you shook your head at him. 

“We’re both learning. You have no reason to apologise to me. I’m serious. You don’t,” you admitted, and Joshua smiled softly at you as he wrapped you in a tight embrace. 

“How about we blow off steam at the party that Jeonghan’s flat is hosting?” Joshua offered. 

“I don’t know, the last party did nothing but cause drama, or rather, I overreacted,” you mumbled softly, making Joshua shake his head at you. 

“Your reactions are valid. Please don’t let me or anyone take that away from you,” Joshua comforted you, making you smile softly at him. 

“So, what’s the occasion of this party?” you asked, and Joshua shrugged. 

“I honestly don’t know, and I quote Jeonghan on this: who needs a reason? A party is a party,” Joshua chuckled, making you smile along with him. “Come on, go get ready, and we can go!” Joshua cheered, making you smile at him. “Look, we’re going to have ups and downs in our friendships. Isn’t that normal? But I promise I’ll keep the dramatic storming out of rooms to a minimum,” he joked, making you nod at him. 

“What should I wear?” you asked, making Joshua grin.

“Whatever you feel comfortable in,” he answered, making you swoon at his answer. 

It was a simple statement, but he never pressured you to look a certain way. But you still let your demons get the best of you. 

Was the reason why he didn’t deem it necessary to tell you to wear something nice that, regardless of what you wore, he’d never consider you attractive, so it didn’t matter?

“I can hear you overthinking. I’m saying wear something comfortable because it’s a flat party, not because I think you can’t pull off something else. I know you can. Hell, if you want to wear a dress and heels tonight, I support it, but I know you won’t be comfortable in it, not at a house party,” Joshua rationalised, calming the demons in your mind and making you nod and smile at him. 

“Sorry,” you gave him a sheepish smile, and Joshua shook his head at you. 

“Stop apologising for how you feel,” he said as he moved to open your wardrobe. 

“Oh, what about this? It’s sparkly?” Joshua beamed as he handed you a sparkly green top. 

You bought it on a whim once; it was what all the pretty girls in the magazines wore, it was what all the cute girls wore, and you just thought that if you wore that, you too would be pretty. 

“It’s stunning, and I think it’d make you sparkle and look like a mermaid,” Joshua laughed. 

“Mermaids are attractive?” You asked, taking the green top from him. 

“Listen, Ariel is fucking hot,” he declared, making you laugh. 

“She nearly gave up everything for a guy. A guy who she knew nothing about, and all because he was handsome,” you mumbled. 

“Not a Little Mermaid Fan?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head. 

“Not a fan of how much she gave up for him,” you mumbled, and he nodded, sensing that if he didn’t divert your attention somewhere else, this conversation would take a very gloomy turn.

“To be fair, and I’m just assuming here, it wouldn’t be easy to sustain a relationship with a damn fish,” Joshua said knowingly, making you laugh. 

“Okay, get out, you fish expert. I need to get ready,” you joked, pushing Joshua towards your door, and he nodded. 

“Be ready in about thirty minutes?” Joshua offered, and you nodded. 

~~

You were done with your shower, and as you walked out, you almost liked what you saw in the mirror. 

Almost. 

You wore the sparkly green top, paired it with black jeans, and wore your stripped Converse. You dusted a light wash of makeup on your face and some mascara on it then reached for the peach-flavoured gloss and dabbed your lips with a small amount before smiling in the mirror. 

“Ready?” You heard Joshua yelling obnoxiously outside your door, making you cringe at him. 

“You’re insufferable,” you giggled as you opened the door, laughing at him. 

Your laughter stuck in your throat when you took in Joshua’s appearance. 

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” Joshua giggled, making you glare at him. 

“You look good, okay,” you huffed, making Joshua smile. 

“Likewise. Shall we go? Jeonghan’s been texting me. Oh, by the way, Nia will be there,” Joshua said, his voice softening as he spoke her name. 

“Shua, I can manage. She might have just been having a bad day. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s fine. It’s all in the past,” you said, not meaning it entirely, but Joshua was right. You couldn’t live your entire life crying at every upsetting situation. 

“If she steps out of line, I’ll put her back in place, I promise,” Joshua added, and you smirked at him. 

“Kinky,” you joked before slapping a hand over your mouth, your eyes widening in shock at what you said. 

“Oh, do you want to find out?” Joshua teased, making you look down shyly. 

“Come on, Jeonghan is waiting,” you said shyly as you dragged him across the hall to flat 2B. 

You didn’t see it then, and how you wish you did because your words lit a fire of envy in Joshua, one he could not douse and one that ended up ruining the night. 

~~

The house party was going quite well, there were no silly dares and no bitchy comments, but you couldn’t place your finger on Joshua’s behaviour. The entire night, he was distant and standoffish with you. 

Hell, he was chatting with Nia for a fair bit, but you chalked it up to the fact that you were a chronic over-thinker and that Joshua didn’t necessarily mean to do what he did with the intent of hurting you. 

“I like your top, by the way,” Jeonghan said rather loudly and drunkenly, and you smiled, thanking him. 

“Oh, thank you. Actually, Joshua helped pick it out,” you answered, and you saw Joshua smile warmly at you. He was about to respond when Nia spoke before him instead. 

“Why? You can’t choose your outfits or something?” Nia mocked, earning a couple of chuckles from what you could only guess were her minions. 

“I…” you mumbled, lost. 

Joshua was about to speak, but something stopped him. That something was Jeonghan, who shot daggers at Nia, making her roll her eyes. 

“Anyways, I was promised games, and all we’ve done is drink and make small talk,” Nia complained, and Jeonghan nodded slowly. 

“Get the cards then, and we can start playing,” Jeonghan said as he turned to face you. 

“You look beautiful, don’t listen to her. She has this bitchy persona, but she’s actually nice. Just got to get past the ice-cold persona,” Jeonghan mumbled to you. 

You smiled at him before noticing how Joshua smiled at Nia and whatever she whispered. 

Didn’t he say he’d set Nia straight if she spoke out of turn? So why didn’t he? 

“Alright, we’re just playing snap but with dares and forfeits if you don’t do your dare,” Nia explained once one of her friends brought her a deck of cards to her. 

It was quite an easy game, and the night was progressing smoothly. Nia hadn’t made a single snide comment, and thankfully, your speed made you avoid some stupid dares. 

“Oh! Joshua, you lost that round. You have to complete a dare!” One of Nia’s friends squealed, making you wince. 

“Ugh, I knew it. What do I have to do?” Joshua asked, smiling. You felt your heart starting to pound in your chest. 

“Make out with Nia. I know you guys only kissed, but this time, a proper make out,” Nia’s friend suggested, making your heart fall into your stomach with her suggestion. 

Surely, he wouldn’t say yes. 

“Sure, why not?” Joshua chuckled as he turned to face Nia, who shot you a smirk before meeting to place her lips on his, earning a few wolf whistles and cheers from the others in the room as they kissed. 

They fit together. It made sense. She knew what to do. You didn’t. 

You could feel your eyes burn with tears and knew you had to leave. You couldn’t watch this. You couldn’t keep watching this. 

You got up to leave but got up so hastily that you failed to notice that your glittery top got snagged by the edge of the table. The tear was barely noticeable, but the scrape of your chair against the floor was loud and got everyone’s attention, including Nia who smirked at you. 

“See, this is why you should dress for your body, not just based on trends. I guess that the rip was the universe’s way of letting you know that the shirt needed to be let out a bit,” Nia said with a straight face, her voice devoid of emotion, but her words were laced with venom. 

The venom that you could feel was starting to move in your body and to your heart and brain, making you hate everything about your body and yourself more than usual. 

Nia’s vile comments finally made Joshua snap as he pulled away from her and stood up. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He shouted at Nia as she shrugged. 

“She looked silly in that top. Is that why you picked it up, Shua? Because you couldn’t resist, knowing how stupid she would look in that?” Nia added, smirking. Her words were slurred, so you knew not to believe her, or at least that’s what you told yourself. 

But then again, doesn’t a drunken mind speak sober thoughts?

“Y/N!” Joshua called out as you turned your back to everyone and tried to leave. 

You took a deep breath before turning to him. “I’m fine, just tired,” you mumbled before exiting the flat. 

~~

After the flat party, you returned to your room, and you stood in front of your mirror in your underwear after a shower. 

You stared hard; you could see every dent, mark, and scar on your body. 

You weren’t chubby, far from it, but you weren’t a size two. 

You had curves, which came at the cost of more stretch marks. 

You had long, wavy hair that never seemed to cooperate with you. 

Nia was right; you didn’t look good. 

You were so immersed in picking yourself apart that you failed to notice Joshua walk in and wrap his arms around your waist.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he mumbled into your bare skin, and you could feel his toned arms under the flimsy fabric of your bra. 

“For what? She’s just telling the truth. She’s the kind of flawless I wish I could be,” you mumbled, squinting at the reflection. 

You hated what you looked like. You sighed deeply before removing Joshua’s arms around you. 

“I fucked up. I said I’d defend you, and I didn’t,” Joshua mumbled, and you sighed, sitting on your bed. 

Joshua sat down, kneeling, making you look into his big eyes shining with unshed tears. 

“Why the fuck are you the one about to cry? I’m the one that got body-shammed in front of everyone. You got the pretty girl, and you got to even kiss her!”

“I’m about to cry because I have been spouting this loyalty bullshit from day one, and when it came to you, I just let it go. And I guess it’s because you dropped my hand when I was being suggestive and ran off to find Jeonghan instead,” Joshua grumbled, and you scoffed at him. 

“That’s such a pathetic reason. I only ran off like that because, you know, I’m uncomfortable with sexual innuendos and jokes. I’ve never experienced anything, so how can I pursue a conversation further?” You questioned.

Joshua just frowned as he looked to the ground. 

“I didn’t,” you started to say and moved to kneel until you were on your knees, sitting in front of Joshua. “I didn’t run because I wanted to get cosy with Jeonghan. But I’ll say he was a better friend than you were tonight,” you finished and stood up, grabbing an oversized shirt off your chair, pulling it over your body, and moving to Joshua. 

“I was seeing red, and like a fucking dick, I said nothing. I didn’t pick that top for you because I wanted to mock you. I picked it because you looked lovely in it. It fits you like a glove,” Joshua spoke, and you scoffed at him. 

“Are you sure I didn’t look like a stuffed turkey instead?” you mocked, and Joshua shook his head. 

“I don’t know what Nia’s deal is—I don’t fucking know—but you didn’t look silly in the outfit. It’s your body; you wear what you want. You looked lovely, my angel,” Joshua smiled as he spoke, and you quirked your brows at him. 

“My angel?” you echoed, and Joshua blushed slightly. 

“I give nicknames,” he mumbled.

“Oh,” you mumbled.

“Only to the ones I love,” he replied, making your heart swoon. 

You knew you already had it wrong for Joshua, but his saying made you swoon more. You felt safe, and you knew that you were falling for him.

“I didn’t look stupid in the green top?” you asked again, and Joshua smiled, turning to face you. 

“No, you didn’t. Fuck Nia and her stupid ass opinions,” Joshua huffed, hoping it’d make you laugh, but somehow it failed. 

“Wasn’t that your aim tonight? To fuck her. I mean, I gathered that was the aim because you leapt at the chance to kiss her,” you spat at Joshua, who shrank at the accusation. 

“I just… fuck, I screwed up. I told you that I got mad, and I fucked up. I fucking did. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Joshua mumbled, and you sighed. 

“It hurt to watch that,” you voiced, and Joshua nodded. 

“Did, uh, did you want to kiss me instead?” Joshua asked, and your eyes widened. 

“Is this some sort of stupid game you play where you kiss Nia first and then come back and give me a pity kiss? Because if it is, I want nothing to do with it,” you said as you tried to get up, only to have Joshua pull you back onto his lap, glaring at you. 

“It’s not. Fuck, do you not realise that I had kissed you before, which wasn’t a fucking pity kiss? Two, I got hard for you. And now I want to kiss you because you looked amazing at that party, but you look even better in this stupid shirt that I kind of want to rip you off!” Joshua exclaimed, making your eyes widen. 

“Oh,” you said, unsure of how to respond.

Joshua rolled his eyes at you. “Yeah, oh,” he huffed, making you giggle. 

You didn’t know where you felt a surge of confidence rush into your blood, but you did, and as it did, the words tumbled out of your mouth sooner than you could stop them. 

“Then kiss me,” you whispered out. 

Okay, maybe you weren’t that confident, but you said the words, and you knew Joshua heard them because his grip around your waist tightened. 

Joshua didn’t say anything. He simply pulled you in closer until your lips met his. You ignored the taste of cherry lip gloss on his lips and instead tried to enjoy his taste, but you couldn’t. You eventually sighed into the kiss as you pulled away. 

“Did I do something?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head. 

“I just… I keep tasting Nia’s stupid cherry lip gloss on your lips, and it’s killing the mood,” you admitted, making Joshua sigh as he used his shirt to wipe his lips. 

“Try again,” he encouraged, and so you did. 

This time, you could taste him; the cherry flavour was an aftertaste, but one you could swallow because you liked him too much to care. 

As the kiss progressed, Joshua’s grip on your waist only got tighter, and you kept moving against his hips, making him groan into the kiss. He was so big and thick that you could feel yourself grow wetter each minute. 

“Wait, stop,” he mumbled against your lips, his grip still tight on your waist because he knew you’d run away the second he told you to stop. “Where does all this leave us? The slight dry-humping, the kisses?” he asked, and you smiled at him. 

You wanted to tell him you liked and wanted to date him, but you didn’t want to scare him off. So, you decided to choose an option that would only hurt you. 

But if that was the only way you could ever have Joshua, so be it.

“How about we just keep it casual?” You said, trying to sound nonchalant and unbothered, and Joshua nodded. 

“I agree,” Joshua replied, not leaving room for an explanation as his lips were back on yours instantly, making you moan into the kiss. 

Casual it is.

~~

Over the next three weeks, you learnt what casual meant. It meant still being friends with Joshua and having your usual movie nights with him. And then sometimes you’d end up on his lap, kissing him. 

A week after the casual arrangement began, you found yourself bare-chested and at the mercy of Joshua’s lips and hands running all over your breasts while you palm his hard length over his boxers. 

In the second week of understanding what casual meant, you found yourself clenching around his long fingers as they moved inside of you. You didn’t entirely realise how it happened. Still, it felt so good that you didn’t want to stop it. You were riding the wave of euphoria for as long as you could, and you couldn’t see it crashing anytime soon. You had also given your first blowjob. It was glorious watching Joshua fall apart under your touch. It was a sight you wanted to be tattooed in your brain. 

During the third week of understanding the word casual, you felt pleasure you only thought was confined to porn and smutty fanfiction, but when you two stumbled back drunkenly after a night out, you couldn’t control your hormones. 

You wanted him. 

“Joshuaie!” you slurred slightly as he helped you back to your room. 

It was a Friday night, and you had too much to drink. As a result, you ended up stumbling a bit, but you weren’t drunk, far from it. But you also had a pep to your step, one that did not help you walk. 

“Sit,” Joshua ordered as he helped you sit on your bed. 

His tone was slightly cold, and you immediately felt like he had poured cold water all over you. With one word, you sobered up immediately and let out a sniffle. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your night out. I’ll be fine. You can go back and enjoy yourself,” you mumbled as you kicked your shoes off and scurried under your covers.

Joshua sighed as he walked into your ensuite bathroom, grabbed your makeup wipes, returned to you, and sat on your bed. 

“Sit up,” he said, his tone softer this time, his kind eyes sparkling with endearment. 

“You didn’t ruin my night, none of it. Fuck, I just got annoyed. A few guys made some shitty comments about you, and I wanted to punch them,” Joshua explained as you sat up, and he moved to wipe the makeup off your face gently. 

“Oh, they probably said I looked hideous; no need to get mad at that, nothing I’m not used to,” you admitted, letting out a sad chuckle. 

“Is that what you fucking think?” Joshua asked, and you shrugged, at which he sighed, kicking off his shoes.

You shrugged. “Is it not?” 

Joshua shook his head. “Fuck, they couldn’t stop talking about all the sexual things they wanted to do to you, and I wanted to just punch them. No man should ever talk about a woman like that. It’s so stupid,” Joshua huffed out, making you smile. 

“Well, at least I was being complimented,” you sassed back, spilling out of your bed as you drunkenly stumbled into your bathroom and stepped into your shower, the alcohol making you forget Joshua’s presence in the room.

Thankfully, you always kept an oversized shirt in the bathroom, which you changed into before stepping out of the shower and walking back into the room. 

“The things those guys were saying weren’t complimentary. They were sexist and disgusting hell. If it were me…” Joshua trailed off when you joined him on your bed. 

“What would you say, huh?” you asked, and Joshua smiled as he inched closer to you. 

“I’d do more than speak,” he answered. 

The atmosphere in the room suddenly changed; it was now filled with want and desire, and you decided to bask in the glory and be bolder. 

“Show me then,” you mumbled. 

“You’ve been drinking,” Joshua mumbled, and you shrugged. 

“Your point? I’m buzzed, but I can consent. I can count to ten backwards if you want,” you joked.

Joshua smiled as he stood up, making you stand up with him. He pulled the curtains over your window so that the only thing illuminating the room was your table light. Joshua moved to pull the leather jacket off his body and tossed it on your desk before pulling you into a soft kiss. 

“God, I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you tonight,” he admitted, making you smile. “Can I take this off?” he asked, and you hesitated for a second, then nodded. 

“Just know that… I don’t look like a model underneath,” you mumbled suddenly. Even though Joshua had been intimate with you before, you still felt insecure every time. 

“I’m glad you don’t. You’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful,” Joshua praised you as he pulled the fabric off your body, leaving you naked. 

He walked you backwards until the backs of your knees touched his bed. He gently pushed you down, and you moved back on the bed as he crawled between your legs. He placed his lips on yours. You moaned into the kiss, and Joshua slipped his tongue into your mouth, deepening it. He pulled away gently just to look at you.

“Can I touch you?” Joshua asked, and you nodded slowly. 

He smiled as he placed his lips on yours again, kissing you again, and then moved his mouth to your breasts.

“Fucking hell, these tits. You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to suck and bite them.” 

You moaned as he squeezed your breasts, his fingertips rubbing your nipples. 

“Each time you were in a low-cut top, I wanted nothing more than to bring you into a room and take your tits in my mouth.” 

You squeezed your thighs as Joshua’s words did nothing but torment your aching cunt. 

He moved a hand down your body. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he said as he moved to lay down between your legs. 

He pushed your legs apart, and his tongue found your cunt. He placed several kisses on your cunt, each kiss making you buck into his mouth. He wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Easy, princess, I’m going to take good care of you.” You nodded as he ran his tongue along your folds, moaning as he tasted you. He circled his tongue around your entrance as he pushed his long and thick tongue inside you. 

“Fuck, Joshua,” you cried out, tugging on his hair. 

He growled into your cunt when you tugged on his hair, the vibrations making you shake. He pulled his mouth away from you and pushed two fingers inside you. He stood on his knees and stared at you directly as he hooked his fingers inside you, his other hand pressing down on your stomach.

“Hold still, princess; I will make you scream my name.” 

You nodded, and Joshua started moving his hand up and down vigorously. You could hear just how wet you were getting. 

“Come on, princess, I can hear how fucking wet you are. Wouldn’t it be nice if you just squirted all over my hand?” 

You arched your back as Joshua kept fingering you. 

“Pretty girl, I can hear you squirt for me. I can make you squirt again, don’t worry.” 

You kept whimpering until something inside you snapped, and you felt your vision fade as you came hard. You felt yourself squirt all over Joshua’s fingers. He pulled his fingers out of you and sucked on them. 

“God, you’re so fucking sweet,” Joshua moaned, praising you. You felt a bolt of confidence surge as you got onto your knees. “You don’t have to?” he assured, but you shook your head at him.

“I want to. Will you let me?” 

You reached forward and wrapped your mouth around his length. Well, as much as you could, your hands made up for what your mouth couldn’t. You ran your tongue along his length until you fixated your mouth around his tip. You kept sucking his tip, and your hands reached down to play with his balls. Joshua bucked in your mouth as you kept sucking his tip. 

“Fucking hell.” 

You smirked. Catching Joshua off guard was the only way to get him to submit to you. 

“Fuck, baby, if you keep doing that, I’m going to cum!” 

You kept bobbing your head up and down his length until you felt him still in your mouth and felt his warmth release down your throat. You pulled away, slowly swallowing his release and giving his sensitive tip a final lick. 

“Fuck, get over here,” Joshua moaned as he pulled you into his arms for a sweet kiss. 

You giggled into his chest as he cuddled you, making him nudge you. “What’s on your mind?” 

“You’re perfect,” you said. No mumbling, nothing. You said it confidently. 

“No one’s perfect,” Joshua countered, “plus, you’re only saying that because of the amazing orgasm I just gave you,” Joshua joked, making you groan and sit up. 

“No, you are! You’re so fucking perfect, just you are. I’ll explain someday; right now, it’s fuzzy, but you’re the closest thing to perfection,” you mumbled as you laid back down and curled into Joshua’s embrace. 

“Fuck, I’m going to miss you over winter break,” Joshua spoke, and you nodded. 

“Only three weeks, nothing’s going to change. I’ll still be here,” you said, touching his lips and making him smile into the kiss. 

~~

 The thing about bold statements is that they often come with uncertainty and pain should things not pan out the way you want. Which is precisely what happened to you. 

You said in three weeks nothing would change, but you were wrong because you told yourself that when you were high off the orgasms and falling in love with Joshua, your love only grew stronger every second. 

“Y/N!” Joshua exclaimed when he found you at the café. You were waiting patiently for him. It was the first week back from winter break, and Joshua finally texted to meet up. 

You agreed. You also decided that you wanted to confess to him, to tell him you liked him. 

“Joshua!” You greeted cheerfully as the tall boy hugged you tightly. 

How do you get more handsome every day? 

It was true; Joshua was getting increasingly handsome each day, and you weren’t entirely sure if it was good for your heart. 

“So, what’s up?” he asked once you two sat down in a booth, and he smiled, noticing you ordered his favourite drink for him. 

“Uh, winter break was good. I spent time with family, and uh, Joshua, I have to tell you something,” you started, and he nodded. 

“Me too!” Joshua exclaimed, and you smiled, thinking that maybe you and him were on the same page. Perhaps he liked you the way you liked him. 

“Really?” you asked. “Okay, you first,” you said, and Joshua grinned. 

As he was about to speak, a pair of long, slender arms wrapped around his chest, and a kiss was placed on his cheek. 

You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces – all stabbing you at the same time. 

“Baby, I missed you!” 

You looked to see Nia slide into the booth next to Joshua, making you feel nauseous. You felt like a fucking fool. 

Why would Joshua ever reciprocate what you felt for him? Why would he ever want you when he had a girl like Nia?

“Babe, you’re early. I haven’t told her yet,” Joshua mumbled, apologetic as he awkwardly smiled at you. Nia shrugged. 

“You two are dating?” you asked, and Joshua nodded. 

“We met when I went back home, Nia’s from the same town, and we hung out, and you know, over the last three weeks, she made me the happiest I’ve ever been,” Joshua said, and you could feel your eyes starting to sting with tears. 

“Wait, baby, they just called my order. Be right back,” Nia said, kissing Joshua’s cheek as she waltzed away. 

“I know you’re not her biggest fan, but I promise she’s kind, loving and sweet when you dig past the cold persona. I wanted to tell you, but I also didn’t know how. We weren’t really together or anything, you know?” Joshua mumbled, and that did it for you. 

He never even saw what you two shared as unique. You were nothing to him. 

“Does she make you happy?” You asked, and Joshua nodded, smiling. 

“Then I hope she knows that her side gets her the most amazing man, but if she hurts you,” you started to say, and Joshua shook his head. 

“She won’t!” he said excitedly, and you nodded, knowing that your ‘I’ll hurt her if she hurts you’ speech would be wasted on him.

“Then, go be happy, Joshua, that’s all I want,” you said as you gathered your things. You had to leave this café. You’d fall apart if you stayed any longer. 

“Wait, you said you have something to tell me?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head. 

“I got to go. Another time.” 

You rushed, hurrying out of the café and back to your dorm room, where you cried into your pillow. You cried until you couldn’t cry anymore, then you cried some more. You cried until you couldn’t feel anymore. You cried yourself to sleep, knowing that the boy you loved was never going to be yours. 

You would have to see them, Joshua and Nia. You’d have to see her with him, and it’d hurt because she had everything you had to live without. 

~~

Joshua tried to balance, but he was failing. He would flake on meetings with you and study sessions or hangouts, which started getting on your nerves. You brought it up to him one night during a movie night. 

“Stop making plans if you keep flaking,” you mumbled, and you saw Joshua glare at you. 

“It’s not out of malice. Forget it; you won’t get it,” Joshua dismissed.

“Why wouldn’t I get it?” You asked, and he sighed. 

“You’re not dating anyone. You’ve never been in a relationship either, so I guess you wouldn’t get it,” he mumbled, and you scoffed at him. 

“I don’t have to be doing either of those things to call you out on being a shit friend,” you retorted, making Joshua scoff. 

“You only just made friends, so please don’t act like you have any authority on what friends are meant to do either,” Joshua fired back, making your eyes well up with tears. 

“That’s so mean,” you choked out. 

Joshua groaned. “Oh, for the love of God, I can’t be at your beck and call! I have a life! I’m sorry you don’t, but I do! Why don’t you go out to make some friends? I won’t be able to be there for you all the time, not when someone needs me more, and she’s a priority,” Joshua said. 

His words felt like daggers, slicing you open, drawing blood, but all you felt were tears stinging your eyes. 

“I’m going. You’re right, I should make more friends. Also, I never asked to be a priority, Joshua, but I didn’t expect you to make me an afterthought… But I get it now, you don’t need me,” you explained, tears running down your face as you hurriedly grabbed your bag and stormed out of his room and back to yours. 

He didn’t come after you this time when he made you cry. This time, you were alone. 

And this time, you knew he was not yours. Not anymore. 

~~~

Three Months Later 

You weren’t entirely sure what you were doing at this party; none of the people here were your friends, but you decided to go out because another girl from your dorm, Mai, invited you out. You chose to go since Joshua painfully pointed out how few friends you had and that you should go out and make some. 

You weren’t entirely sure these were the types of friends you wanted to make. You weren’t judging them, but they were just different. They were more outgoing, the type to get wasted and hook up with each other. You judged none of it, but it just wasn’t you. 

“Yo, Y/N, have a shot of this,” Mai said, rushing over to you and handing you a shot glass of clear liquid. “It’ll loosen you up a bit. You’re so wound up,” she moaned, and you sighed, taking a shot of the drink. 

It burnt your throat, but it couldn’t compare to the pain you felt every time you thought of Joshua. 

“Good, have another,” Mai said, handing you another shot, and you did the same thing, downing the clear liquid, shot after shot, until you were four shots in, your mind hazy, and you stopped thinking. 

Instead, you soon found yourself on the dance floor, grinding against some guy. You forgot his name but didn’t care, not when his kisses distracted you from Joshua. And certainly not later when you were back in your room that night, he was down on his knees trying his best to please you. 

“Babe, if you don’t want to, we don’t have to,” he spoke, and you looked at him, his chin wet with your arousal. 

“Kyung,” you drawled; his name finally popped into your mind. “I do. I just don’t have protection,” you mumbled. 

“Oh, is that it? I do,” Kyung said, fishing out a condom from his back pocket, making you smile in amusement. 

You weren’t going to lose your virginity to Joshua. He made it clear that he didn’t see you as someone he’d prioritise, plus he had a girlfriend. 

“Just go slow,” you told Kyung as you pulled your dress off. 

You didn’t care what you looked like anymore. You didn’t. If Kyung could make you feel wanted, you’d do anything to feel that. 

You wanted to know what it felt like to be desired, even if Joshua wasn’t the one to do it. 

~~

You woke up to Kyung gently snoring next to you until you nudged him awake the following day. 

“Hey, oh, are you okay? Any pain, any regrets?” Kyung asked sweetly, and you shook your head. 

“No… Thanks for last night,” you mumbled, and Kyung smiled as he slowly got out of bed. 

“Look, I would stay, but I also don’t think your head is in it because you can tell when someone doesn’t like you, but don’t worry! I’m not mad,” Kyung explained. 

“Kyung, I’m sorry,” you mumbled as he got dressed and shook his head. “It was a hookup, no hard feelings, right?” you asked, and Kyung nodded, smiling at you. 

“Chill, we’re good. But you know, if you ever see me around and you want to repeat what happened last night, I wouldn’t be opposed to it. But if you never want to acknowledge me again, that’s also okay,” Kyung explained, making you smile. 

“I’ll at least say hello,” you joked, making Kyung laugh. 

“See you around, Y/N,” Kyung said as he left your room. You sat in bed and slowly got out later to shower, your legs aching with a good ache. 

It felt nice last night to feel wanted. You felt utterly rejected by Joshua, and you wanted to feel needed, and if doing things like you did last night made you feel the slightest bit wanted, then you’d do it over and over again. 

So, you did. 

You continued it. Going out, getting drunk, hooking up with someone random, and each time, you felt more complete seeing how they drooled when they saw you naked. You enjoyed every moment.

Each hookup was your attempt at filling the Joshua-sized hole in your heart, and though it wasn’t entirely practical, it was enough. It was enough to numb your pain. 

You continued this pattern for so long that you lost track, lost track of how many people you slept with. You just were chasing something permanent in something fleeting. 

~~

You hadn’t spoken to Joshua in two years.

Well, here and there, awkward hellos, but he’d become a ghost to you since he started dating Nia. You pulled away too because you couldn’t be around him, not when you felt your heart break a little more every time you saw him. 

You hadn’t spoken to Joshua in so long, until today, in the final term of your last year of university. You had just returned to the dorms and were unpacking your things after going home for the winter break when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in, it’s open,” you called out, and your eyes widened when they landed on Joshua’s scowling figure. “Well, hello to you too,” you huffed out. 

You had gained more confidence in the two years but felt every bit of it ebb away when you saw Joshua again. Because when you saw him, you were always the broken-hearted girl who cried over the fact that she could never have him. 

“What the hell are you doing with your life?” He asked, making you stare at him in confusion. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Don’t act stupid with me. What are you doing, hooking up with someone new almost every week? Do you know that this gossip followed me back home?” Joshua accused you, making you scoff. 

“Why do you care? You already made it painfully clear that I was not a priority anymore, so why do you care what I’m doing?” you demanded, and Joshua scoffed. 

“Well, if everyone I know is starting to call you a slut, then I care,” Joshua fired back, making you scoff again. 

“Do you think that?” you asked, and Joshua sighed. 

“If the shoe fits,” he mumbled, and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“That day in the café, I wanted to tell you I liked you,” you started to say as you unpacked your belongings. “I started falling for you, Joshua. The minute you made me feel seen, kissed me, and the three weeks we spent fooling around, I fell more and more. I thought you felt the same,” you said, pausing to breathe. 

“But you didn’t, and I had a Joshua-shaped hole in my heart,” you finished, and Joshua stared at you with wide eyes. 

“All that to say, I make no apologies for how I choose to fix that hole in my heart, and I make no apologies for how I choose to fix what you broke,” you responded. 

“Did you just quote Meredith Grey to me?” Joshua asked, making you roll your eyes at him. 

“Shut up, she had great lines,” you bit back. 

“I’m just saying you’re getting a reputation, and you know people won’t respect you as much,” Joshua babbled, making you scoff at him. 

“I couldn’t give less of a fuck. I’m trying to forget you,” you lied as tears started to pool in your eyes. “I don’t care about the respect of hundreds of people who don’t know me, but I do care about the respect you have for me,” you asked.

Joshua stayed silent, feet planted on the ground. 

“I’ve gotten my answer, thank you,” you replied, and Joshua sighed. 

“You keep this up. You’ll lose everyone,” Joshua retorted, making you roll your eyes at him. 

“I only ever had you, and I lost you the day you started dating Nia, so I think I’m good,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. 

“Fine, be that fucking way,” Joshua scowled as he stormed out of your room, slamming the door on his way out, making the hole in your heart grow with every step he took.

~~

“Y/N!” 

You left bed one night when you heard someone yell your name. Startled, you ran to the front door, confused when you saw Jeonghan. 

“Joshua’s in my room, and he’s crying. He needs you,” Jeonghan huffed, and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“No, he doesn’t, he hasn’t for so long. Tell him to go run to Nia,” you spat out, and Jeonghan sighed, running his hand through his blond hair. It was tousled and messy. You guessed that he had just gotten out of bed. 

“Nia is the reason he’s crying, so I can assure you, he does not need her,” Jeonghan deadpanned, making your heart sink. Joshua and Nia had problems? 

“Just go to him, preferably before he drenches my bedsheets with his tears,” Jeonghan rushed, and you sighed, following him across the hall to Jeonghan’s room, where you saw the man you were deeply in love with curled into a ball crying. 

“Joshua?” you said softly, and you only heard a whimper from him in response. 

“Go, I’ll be in the kitchen,” Jeonghan said, pushing you into the room, and you cautiously approached the crying man. 

“She cheated,” Joshua blubbered out, and your heart sank. 

You could only see red. How could she? She had your entire world in her hands and crushed it in one thoughtless moment. 

“I’m going to fucking kill her,” you spat out, and Joshua shook his head. 

“No, just hold me. I don’t want ever to hear her name again,” Joshua begged, and you sighed, giving in to let Joshua cuddle you. 

“I deserved this. I said such shitty things to you. No wonder I’m in this predicament now,” Joshua sighed, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Shut up. You said shitty things. It doesn’t mean you deserved this; no one does; I’m so sorry,” you said, hugging him tighter, earning a soft sigh from him. 

“Y/N, I haven’t been a good friend at all, and I’m going to be one of those douchebags who’s going to ask you to be there for me now because I need you, but I promise this time I won’t hurt you, not again,” Joshua admitted sitting up slightly wiping his eyes. 

“I…” you hesitated and sighed when you saw hurt flash across his handsome features. “Of course I will,” you said, making Joshua smile. 

Of course, you would because you held onto hope. Not that you ever wanted Joshua to get hurt, but he could finally be yours after the hurt passed. 

~~

Joshua was true to his word. Things went back to how they were, you two being the best of buds, no benefits, but still, he was your friend, warming your heart up. This time, it would be fine. 

“You look nice,” Joshua commented as he walked into your room, his hands automatically moving to adjust the zipper you were fiddling with. “There, all done,” he beamed at you. “You look beautiful,” Joshua commented again as he took in your emerald, green floor-length cocktail gown. 

You had just finished getting ready for the final year gala. You smiled at Joshua, and your eyes widened as you took in his appearance. 

“You look just as handsome. Any girl would be lucky to have you,” you suggested, biting your lip when you saw how his expression fell. 

“Let’s not mention that, please?” he asked. 

“She who shall not be named?” you offered with a smile, and Joshua nodded. 

“Yeah, she who shall not be named.” He smiled as you two walked out to your room and the ballroom. 

“Shall we, our final gala as soon-to-be university grads?” Joshua asked, holding his arm to you, and you smiled at him. 

~~

You and Joshua enjoyed the gala. For the most part, there was no drama, just a few odd questions about if you and Joshua were dating, but he quickly shot them down. By the night’s end, you were tipsy enough to spill the words brewing on your tongue for the entire night. 

You still loved him, and tonight, you’d tell him uninterrupted. 

~~

“Okay, what was so important that you needed to drag my ass out here and watch yourself! You’re going to fall over!” Joshua giggled as he wrapped his arm around your waist, making you smile shyly at him. 

This was it; this was the moment you’d tell him everything you felt for him. You’d say to him right here that you loved him. 

“Okay, sit,” you declared to Joshua, who only chuckled and then groaned when you pushed him down onto the icy-cold brick walls that adorned your campus. The décor of your campus made it look like a castle, and at this moment, you felt like you were maybe just in a fairytale. 

Joshua was the prince, and you were the wide-eyed princess about to confess to him. 

“Okay, now shut up and listen,” you giggled, making Joshua laugh. 

“I’ve legit said nothing. The floor is all yours, my love,” Joshua smiled as he spoke, and you melted. That smile would be the death of you. That’s all you knew. 

“So, this year, I felt we became so close. I mean, you were my first friend here, hell, you were probably my first friend here, and I know the last two weeks with your breakup, it wasn’t exactly kind on you. However, you could keep a straight face and smile through whatever pain you tried to hide. Inspired me,” you admitted. You saw Joshua’s smile, and you flashed him a smile before you continued to ramble. 

“I also remember, the night after that awful party, I told you to come and help me out, and you did, and I remember just drunkenly mumbling apologies to you. I think that was the first time I expressed my gratitude for you. You’ve made me a better person, Joshua,” you professed, struggling to look him in the eyes as you poured your heart out.

“I’m not going to lie. Because of the alcohol, I can’t. Honestly, thanks to the alcohol, I can’t remember much of what I said, but I remember you smiling and saying thank you, so I guess I must have said something right!” You drunkenly continued your monologue, making Joshua nod at you. 

“Now,” you said slowly as you stumbled to sit down next to him. 

“I’m going to bring this up quick. The way you shut down when you and Nia broke up. It broke me. I hate the fucking fact that she failed to see how wonderful of a man she lost, but that’s her loss, not yours; I hated that you doubted yourself so much,” you babbled as you placed your hand on his, which made him look up at you. 

“That being said, you inspired me even in your darkest hours. You were able to finally pull yourself out of that shitty headspace, evaluate it, and then reason. It’s something that I admire in you a lot and a trait I wish I also possessed. When I visited you the night, you found out about Nia’s unfaithfulness. I saw it was a different side to you. I no longer saw you as Joshua, the guy who always kept a straight face and never expressed emotions other than happiness and anger,” you explained, pausing to breathe. 

“I saw a guy who was hurt, vulnerable, sensitive, but a guy who was honestly just emotionally drained. That night, I guess, would be the pivotal moment of our friendship because I saw you not only being happy and cheery but also having a different and more sensitive side of yourself,” you smiled as the words tumbled. 

“Y/N, you’re going to make me cry if you continue,” Joshua mumbled, and you knew he wasn’t lying, especially with the way his voice was thick with emotion. You shrugged as you moved to sit down next to him. 

“Okay, turn, face me,” you slurred slightly, making Joshua laugh at you as he turned to face you. 

“How can I help you?” Joshua asked, and you grinned at him. 

“Well, now it’s Joshua appreciation time!” you yelled in his face, making him laugh as he slightly cringed at the volume of your voice before nodding, allowing you to speak. 

“Well, first, I’m jealous of you!” You exclaimed, making Joshua look at you funnily, “why?” Joshua asked, his voice small. 

“You make everything so effortless, good grades, good friends. I know you put effort into everything you do, but you make it look so easy. I’m jealous of that,” you admitted, making Joshua blush as he smiled at the ground. 

“Now, you remember how I said if I could use one word to describe you, it’d be perfect, well I still maintain that and let me break it down for you because I know you’re going to give me the bullshit that no one’s perfect, but listen up Hannah Montana, you are!” You declared, making Joshua laugh. 

“Look, you’re a fantastic friend. Wait for not a perfect friend. You are excellent at giving advice. You are also extremely trustworthy! If I’m ever questioning or hesitant about anything, I can always count on you to give me the correct answer!” You rambled, pausing to take a breath before continuing.

“Jokes apart, speaking presently, I know this month hasn’t been too kind on you! I won’t dwell on the girl who shall not be named. I know how she broke you into two. Still, I hope you know that you fucking deserve better than her. She lost a good thing, and that’s on her to regret for the rest of her life, not you. You’re going to meet the perfect girl because you’re the perfect guy,” you breathed out, smiling at Joshua, who was now smiling softly at you. 

“I know that sometimes you feel that it’s safer not to show your emotions, but as I said, you’re human. You’re entitled to feel and have every right to express them. I know you might find it much easier to ignore them and not deal with them, but sometimes, it’s not too bad to deal with them. All I want to say is that Joshua, if you ever need anything, a hug, a chocolate bar or a lame joke to cheer you up! Then I’m here! You’re one of my closest friends, and I never want to see you upset!” You exclaimed, pausing to take another breath. 

“I love you, Joshua, and before I sort of end this obnoxiously long confession, I want to say that I know you felt that sometimes you weren’t good enough. I want to remind you that you are! You’re good enough, better, and stronger than you give yourself credit for! Thank you for letting me be part of your life,” you exhaled, taking a breath before continuing. 

“So all that being said, I guess I’m trying to say something else too,” you mumbled suddenly, feeling your confidence drain out of your body, and Joshua nodded to you.

“What would that be?” Joshua asked, placing his hand on yours. You smiled at him as you decided to leap of faith and inch closer to him. 

“I…” you gulped before moving closer. You decided kissing him would be easier than telling him you were head over heels in love with him. 

You were about to place your lips on his when you heard her voice, 

“Shua, what did you want to talk to me about?” Nia called out, and you looked at Joshua with hurt and betrayal filling your chest. 

You got up and stumbled as you tried to move as far away as possible from him. 

You could bear your soul to him. You could tell him that you’d take a bullet for him, and you’d still never be enough for him. You’d never be the girl for him. You’d never be her. 

“Y/N, stop!” Joshua yelled out, and you shook your head at him. 

“No, nothing; I just wanted to tell you you were great. I need to, uh, go. You go get your girl,” you mumbled, your voice betraying you as it cracked, and you could feel hot tears start to run down your face. 

You tripped as you tried to run back to the dorms. You were never going to be the one for him. 

You weren’t her.

~~

You’d never be her. That’s all you knew as you cried yourself to sleep tonight, 

Joshua didn’t come to check in on you either that night, but you knew where he was. Balls deep in Nia, or so you could only guess from the moans you could hear across the halls. He was back with her.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, like most nights, but tonight, you’d stay away from him; he was not yours, and his heart would never be yours. 

You barely spoke to Joshua after that night of the final gala. You found out later that he had gotten back together with Nia that night, and so you decided that you’d forget it. Forget him, and heal. 

Divider: Five Years Later

Over the years, you thought you had healed, and you wouldn’t think about him every second, and you thought you were fine until your high school reunion. 

~~

“Joshua, you’re strong now,” you moaned as Joshua carried you into your hotel room. 

Frankly, you weren’t sure how you got here. You had shown up for a university reunion, and you and Joshua picked up from where you left off. It was as if nothing had ever changed. 

However, seven drinks in, Joshua started getting flirtier, and you reciprocated his every advance until you were in this exact position, his arms around your waist, waiting to fuck you. You hoped he wouldn’t pinch you at this moment because if it were a dream, you didn’t want to wake up. 

“You know what I want to do?” He whispered hotly in your ear, making you shiver in his embrace. “I’m going to finger you, lick you and fuck you till you’re trembling and begging to cum, and even then, I won’t let you cum. I’ll cum inside you and leave you tied to this bed. Your clit throbbing and you’ll be begging for me to let you cum, but I’ll leave you here filled with my cum.”

You whimpered at his words; your pussy ached for his touch. You nodded meekly at him. 

Joshua slowly undressed you. He hissed when he saw your swollen pussy lips. He moaned at the scent of your arousal and traced a finger from your clit to your entrance. Gathering the arousal he collected from that simple touch, he put his finger in his mouth and sucked and moaned in approval. 

“You taste so good for me, pretty girl.” 

He stood up and slid off his clothes, his tanned and toned body, his hard cock long and thick. He climbed back onto the bed and hovered over you. 

He placed his hands on your chest, massaging your breasts, making you moan. You didn’t wear a bra, so he felt your nipples harden and groaned in approval. 

He slid your top up, exposed your breasts, took one nipple in his mouth and began to suck gently. He then picked up his pace and started to bite and tug at your hardened nipples. 

You tried so hard to keep your mouth shut, but his mouth felt so good. You let out a soft moan. This didn’t go undetected by him. He slapped your now exposed clit. Your hips thrust up in response. 

His mouth left your chest, and he moved his mouth to your dripping cunt. He started kissing your inner thighs, darting his tongue out and licking every part of you except your aching cunt. 

You tried to move in an attempt to get his mouth onto your pussy. He slapped your clit again, except this time, he followed it up by inserting his long finger inside your pussy. You tried to suppress a moan, but it was too much, and you needed him to fuck you senseless. 

“Baby girl, I see that you just don’t want to listen,” he said as he inserted another digit. He curled his fingers upright against your g-spot and started moving his wrist up and down. “So make all the noise you want, but you cannot cum.” 

He continued his relentless pace and assault on your pussy. He leaned his head down and finally put his tongue on your clit, and you thought you were going to cum right then and there. 

His tongue flicked at your clit, before he enclosed his mouth on it, and you lost it. You couldn’t control it, and you came undone on his tongue and fingers. Joshua growled at your release but didn’t ease up on his movements and kept sucking at your now over-sensitive clit.

He removed his mouth from your pussy, but he didn’t ease up with his fingers. He added a third digit and fucked you until you squirted onto his hands. It wasn’t long before the overstimulation turned into pleasure, and you found yourself cumming on his tongue. 

You didn’t know how he could make you come undone so quickly and easily. You were shaking and trembling, tears of pleasure rolling down your face. 

You couldn’t even coherently mumble out a word or move. You felt so good, and your pussy was still throbbing, and yet you ached for more. 

Without letting you get more than a minute to recover, Joshua pushed his length inside you. He let out a growl and proceeded to fuck you, setting a relentless pace. He fucked you hard and fast, his thick cock hitting the right spots each time. He pulled out of you, and you moaned at the loss of contact.

He pushed himself into your dripping and aching pussy. At this point, he was just chasing his release. You finally used your arms to hold onto his broad shoulders as he fucked you into the sheets, your legs wrapped around his waist, allowing him to go deeper. 

He was close. You could tell by the way his thrusts got more uneven. To tease him further, you clenched your pussy around his cock. 

Oh, he was pissed. 

“Baby girl, is that hard for you to listen?” His hand went to your neck, gently choking you, and he continued fucking you. The breath play only made you reach your high again, and he wasn’t far off either.

He came inside your pussy and stayed still for a little bit. Then pulled out gently, not letting his cum spill out. He moved his body down yours until his mouth reached yours again and stuck his tongue into your cunt and lapped at it until you came again, and he cleaned his cum out from you. 

Swallowing, he moved up and pulled you into his arms, and you both lay on the bed. 

“How are you, baby? I hope it wasn’t too much for you.”

“Was so good.” You were still basking in the afterglow of your session. 

~~

You woke up later that night feeling rather hungry. 

Sex does that, you assumed. You noticed Joshua was awake and scrolling through his phone. 

“Hey, do you want to grab a bite or something? I’m starving,” you asked, and Joshua sighed, taking a sip of the water you left by the bedside. 

“This was a hookup, Y/N; please don’t read into it,” Joshua answered bluntly, and you stood up and walked to find his clothes and threw them at him. 

“It was a fucking question, Joshua!” you yelled. 

“I know not to hope with you anymore, but I can’t help if my heart doesn’t want to listen. But tonight, you showed me that you’re done, so I want you out,” you snarled, and Joshua nodded, getting dressed quickly and walking out of your door and crushing your heart again. 

~~

But that night was long gone, and so was he. 

~~

You noticed a heavily decorated envelope sitting on your desk later that evening. You must have collected the mail and not bothered sorting through it. You opened the envelope and held your breath when you saw an invite to Joshua’s wedding. 

Joshua weds Yuri the card read, and for once, you felt pain, but unlike the past, it felt dull. It didn’t feel like you were being stabbed in the heart. 

You RSVPed as soon as possible. You wanted to go. 

So, you did. You watched the ceremony, and the happy couple exchanged their vows, and you approached Joshua to talk outside after the reception. 

“I need to talk to you. I didn’t invite you to hurt you. I invited you because you’re a friend,” he started to say, and you nodded. 

“Then, as a friend, I need you to listen to me one last time,” you pleaded. 

Joshua nodded as he sat down on the bench outside the castle, his actions reminiscent of the time you confessed to him, but this time, it’d be different because you were different. Everything was different now. 

“Look, thank you for being so brave throughout the wedding. I know it couldn’t have been easy,” Joshua started to say.

You had to take a deep breath to not scoff at his words. Did he still think you were in love with him after all these years?

Truthfully, you will always love him. He was your first love. How could you ever forget him? How could you forget the nights when he’d pleasure you and look at you like you were the only one in the world? But more importantly, how could you forget the nights when he held you while you cried, wiped away every tear and kissed away every insecurity? How could you forget the boy who made you feel beautiful for the first time? 

But most importantly, how could you ever be the boy who kept breaking your heart repeatedly, and yet you kept forgiving him because you hoped that one day he’d wake up and realise that he loved you too? 

But it was too late for all of that. 

You were standing at his wedding, well outside the chapel, and you watched the entire night as Joshua exchanged his vows with someone who was not you. Your eyes moved to his left hand and zeroed in on the gold band that adorned his long finger, his ring finger. The finger that he’d always leave empty when he wore jewellery because he said he was saving it for someone special, and tonight, he finally found that someone special. 

You could never forget Joshua. But it had been ten years, and now you could look at him with a mixture of feelings, hurt, regret, and a multitude of negative emotions. But tonight, what consumed you wasn’t all bad. You also felt free. 

Tonight, Joshua gave his word to be with Yuri for the rest of his life and vowed never to leave her, and all while doing that, you felt the shackles of being bound to him loosening. 

“I was about to confess to you after graduation seven years ago. I wanted to tell you that I loved you. Not that I think I needed to, I was babbling away how perfect you were, but then she came, and I felt like no matter what I did, there would never be a right time to tell you I love you,” you sighed, smiling at him. 

“Over the years, I took it as a sign from the universe; maybe it protected me because the universe knew you’d never love me back, not how I did. After that hookup at the hotel, I said we should grab a bite. The first thing you said to me was that I shouldn’t mistake a hookup for feelings and that Joshua was when I realised that there would be no universe where you’d be mine,” you explained, making Joshua’s expression harden. 

“This is my wedding night; I do not need to hear you say something shitty to me on what is the happiest day of my life,” he started to say, raising his voice, and you sighed, sitting down next to him. 

“Let me finish,” you said, and Joshua pouted before nodding. “I’m not blaming you, Joshua. Yes, did we do stupid things that made me overthink and convince myself I had a chance, even if it was a glimmer of hope? Sure. But, all you ever were to me was a friend; you were my best friend, and you carried out your duties as a friend,” you explained, placing a hand on his, making him look at you. 

“I fell in love with you, Joshua, but that’s not on you. I fell for the tall, gangly boy I met when I was 18, putting you on a pedestal and myself on the back burner. But tonight… Watching you getting married and exchanging your vows didn’t hurt the way I expected it to. It felt liberating,” you continued, making Joshua sigh as he withdrew his hand from you. 

“We grew apart a lot, and it helped. It helped me think of you less, and over time, I guess I stopped being in love with you. And tonight, something clicked,” you said, turning to Joshua, who had an unreadable expression. 

“What was that?” Joshua asked. 

“I fell out of love with you, Joshua. I’ll always care for you, and hell, I’ll always love you, but Joshua, I’m no longer in love with you,” you admitted. 

It was true. 

Ten years ago, you tied an invisible string and pulled Joshua into your heart, where he stayed for ten years. He broke your heart so many times. Still, you kept him in there, holding onto hope. But tonight, when he said, “I do”, you felt that string lose its strength, inevitably weighed down and frayed over the last ten years, and tonight, it didn’t snap. It just—like your love—let go. 

You let go of Joshua, and in turn, you set yourself free. Free from the ‘what ifs’, the nights where you’d cry into your pillow, wishing you were in his arms at night, but you weren’t awake. You laid awake at night thinking of him for so many years, and you felt like you could finally let go tonight. 

“You will always have a special place in my heart, but how I loved you was dangerous and harmful. I put you above everyone and myself. I lost myself loving you, and I lost myself trying to be the girl you could love. But over the years and growing up, I realised that sometimes, it’s just not meant to be. And fuck, ten years ago, or even five years ago, that sentiment, the meant-to-be bullshit, would fuck me off, but tonight, I get it,” you explained, feeling tears of relief pool in your eyes. 

“I loved you deeply and immensely, but it didn’t work out, and that’s fine because I learned one thing, I’m capable of loving, and one day, I know I’ll get that love back, the kind of love I had for you, undying and unyielding,” you finished off looking at Joshua who smiled sadly at you. 

“When did you grow up so much?” Joshua chuckled, his voice thick with emotion. 

You smiled at him and shrugged.

“Time heals everything, Joshua. I want the best for you. I do. I want you to have the most amazing married life. Never break her heart. Never go to bed mad at each other. Always tell each other you love each other,” you babbled until you felt a tug on your hand, making you look at Joshua. 

“I couldn’t force myself to love you the way you loved me, and I won’t say I’m sorry for that, but I’m sorry for hurting you, seeking comfort in you for my selfish needs. You’re so special to me. You were my first friend in university; we have a history, and I want us to maintain that friendship. I want us to grow old as friends and laugh about this memory while we bitch about how annoying our spouses can be,” Joshua said, making you laugh. 

It was an honest laugh. It wasn’t forced. It was real. You were healing. 

“I’ll take you up on that, but tonight, I’m setting myself free, and you, Joshua, congratulations,” you said, standing up and holding out your arms for a hug. 

Joshua smiled softly at you as he pulled you into a hug, and you felt like your broken parts were being squished tightly together and being fixed, but you didn’t need to be fixed. 

You just needed to heal. 

~~

You kicked off your heels as you entered your apartment later that night, smiling. You didn’t feel broken or upset; you felt free.

Your eyes zeroed in on the notice board in your living room, where you had put up pictures of special people in your life. 

You looked at the one you had of Joshua. You took it one night, probably in your first year of university when you started falling in love with him. But it was just him. All the other photos you had with your friends were selfies of you and your friend. Only Joshua was solo, in a way; you kept it that way for so long because, for so long, you held on to the hope that he would one day love you back, and then you could stick a couple’s selfie there. 

You smiled at his photo. 

Taking a deep breath, you leaned forward, pulled his photo off your notice board, and replaced it with the Polaroid from the wedding. It was one the happy couple sent out to everyone. 

You smiled at the photo in your hand. Joshua would always be that story you could tell ten years later, but tonight, for the first time in a long while, you could sleep without agonising over the ‘what ifs.’ You locked away Joshua’s picture in a drawer where you knew you couldn’t find it even if you tried. 

You smiled again at the photo of him and Yuri as you turned around and got ready to sleep. For the first time in a long time, as you lay in bed that night, you didn’t punish yourself, thinking you weren’t enough, assuming you missed every moment. You went to bed knowing that you had a great love. It just wasn’t a perfect love story.

But it was okay.

And you would be, too.  

[writinginatree]

Safe Space

Relationship(s): Bodhi Durran & fem!Riorson!reader

Summary: The crowded first-year dorm sucks, especially when you have social anxiety and everyone wants you dead simply for being Fen Riorson's daughter. After yet another attack on you, your older cousin Bodhi lets you hide away in his room for the night.

Warnings: Blood and canon-typical violence, reader has social anxiety, vague mention of nightmares, slight spoilers for Iron Flame if you squint

Maybe you're too naive, but this is not what you thought life in the Riders Quadrant would be like.

Of course you'd known it was kill or be killed in here, that people weren't looking to make friends. And of course you'd known there would be those that saw the relic on your arm and instantly decided to hate you — those that would hear your last name and want you dead for what your father did. You'd thought you were prepared, that you could handle it. But now, mere weeks into your first year, you're not sure how much longer you can go on like this. It's so much worse than you ever could have imagined.

Everyone hates you.

Even your squad mates barely deem you worthy of acknowledging your existence. Maybe that's on you — you hadn't bothered to try and befriend them. The stress of that first day had left you with no energy left to socialize, and by the second one, everyone else had already seemed to know each other, and you hadn't dared intrude. You'd sat by yourself at breakfast, knowing it would seal your fate as an outsider. The only people who are ever nice to you are the other marked ones. Still, you're too shy to actually befriend any of the other marked first-years, to talk to any of them that you don't already personally know. Everyone's too busy focusing on their own survival, anyway.

You tell yourself you don't mind being alone, and for the most part it's true. The dirty looks and whispered slurs constantly thrown your way, on the other hand, are harder to deal with — even more so than physical attacks. When someone tries to kill you — sometimes because they think having social anxiety makes you weak and a liability, more often simply because of your last name — all you have to do is fight. And that you can do just fine.

Still, they never give you a break. Even at night you can't get any peace. The Codex might prevent your enemies from killing you in your sleep, but there are no rules to stop them from keeping you awake to torment you.

You'd chosen the bed in the farthest corner of the room, thinking most people would prefer not having to walk that far, but unfortunately there are so many cadets it doesn't make a difference. There's not a shred of privacy or quiet to be had, and worst of all, the woman in the bed next to yours fervently hates all marked ones. Apparently one of her parents had been killed in the rebellion, and since it had been your father who'd started the whole thing, she hates you especially. Unlike you, she easily made friends, all of whom delight in helping her torment you.

So far, she hasn't dared to try to outright kill you — maybe because she saw what happened to others who'd been stupid enough to try. Shy as you are, you might appear to be an easy target, but luckily your social anxiety does not affect your combat skills. Verbally taunting you seems to be her favorite pastime, though. Maybe it's your own fault for not talking back. You tried at first, but you're neither as confident nor as good with words as Xaden, and soon accepted that there's no use arguing with people who want to hate you. So now you just keep silent when your bed-neighbor reminds people that you're the Great Betrayer's daughter, tells them you'll turn against Navarre too, suggests getting rid of you before you can do so. The unfairness of it all makes you want to scream, to hurl the truth about your father's rebellion at their faces, but of course you can't do that. You can only say that they don't know you, don't know what you will or won't do — which already proved to be nothing but a waste of breath.

Tonight seems to be no different from all the other nights — people throwing dirty looks at you as you walk past them to your bed, someone purposely bumping into you, others pointedly ignoring you. The girl in the bed next to yours who hates you so much glares at you the whole time you're preparing to get into bed, and it's only thanks to her gaze flicking behind you that you become aware of another person sneaking up on you.

You continue unlacing your boots, not wanting to give away that you've noticed it, but every fibre of your body is on alert, ready to pull one of your daggers any second. While you already shoved most of them under the bed for the night as you always do, there are two you never remove, precisely for moments like this. Fresh out of the shower, already in your sleeping clothes, seemingly defenseless. The perfect opportunity for an enemy to strike. Of course there theoretically could be a perfectly harmless reason for someone to approach you, but you don't believe that for even a second. Whenever anyone decides to acknowledge you in here, it's never a good thing. That goes doubly when the person is making an effort to be silent in their approach.

Well, you're ready. In fact, you've been waiting for something to happen. It's been too long since the last attack on you, and the wait — because you know there's always going to be a next time — has been driving you up the walls with restlessness. You're almost glad it's happening now.

Just as you step out of the second boot, the person behind you closes in on you. You whirl around to face her, pulling your knife as you straighten and take a fighting stance. You're cornered between two beds and a wall with barely any space to move around, but that's exactly why you waited for her to advance on you. You prefer it like this. This way, no other enemies can attack you from behind while you fight this one. She seems to be alone, but you wouldn't put it past the girls in the beds nearby — all of them already watching — to stab you in the back if given the opportunity.

The blonde before you has a dagger in each hand, and wastes no time trying to put them to use on you. You don't recall having seen her before, can only guess at her motivations for going after you. Doesn't matter. She's about to regret it.

You duck under the blade swiping at your face and grip the attacker's other wrist, twisting hard until she yelps in pain. The dagger in that hand goes clattering to the floor. You kick it to the side, not looking under whose bed it winds up. Just as you hoped, the blonde makes the mistake of following it with her eyes. It draws her attention away for only a second, but that's all you need to land an elbow to her face, sending her stumbling backwards. She catches herself quickly, lifting the arm with the remaining weapon to block the attack you follow up with.

Throwing herself at you, she manages to tackle you to the ground. The blade races at your neck so fast you barely manage to beat it aside. Your cheek stings, warm blood trickling down.

Too close. That was too damn close. You need to get the upper hand. Now.

You pull your knees to your chest, ramming your feet in the woman's stomach with as much force as you can to get some room. Raising on your knees, you bury your dagger in her shoulder to the hilt. She cries out, but continues to hold on to her dagger. It's a split second decision to leave yours where it is and wrap both of your hands around the blonde's wrist, turning her blade on herself. A waterfall of blood follows the dagger when you pull it from her stomach again, letting go to wrench your own weapon from her shoulder.

The wannabe-assassin is weakened now, and you know the fight is as good as won. She makes one last futile attempt to stab you. You beat the blade aside easily, lifting your own and putting it straight through her heart.

You watch as she collapses, willing your own racing heart to calm down. Once you're sure she's actually dead, you rise from the floor, the slowly spreading puddle of blood warm against your bare feet. You can only pray you won't slip in it as belated panic threatens to overcome you.

This is not the first kill you've made — that had been on your third day here, when two giant brutes had jumped you and Bodhi in an empty hallway — and you're sure it'll be far from the last. You wonder how long it'll take until you get used to it, until the feeling of flesh giving way beneath your blade and the stench of blood will make you feel nothing anymore.

The room is unnervingly quiet as you step away from the body, the attention of everyone close-by focused on you and the blade in your hand. As though they're scared that this fight awakened your taste for blood, that you'll turn around and attack one of them next. You almost laugh at the thought. She attacked you, not the other way around. But she's the one that's dead now, so no one cares about that. So you're the one they fear.

Fine. Let them. Fear is better than contempt.

You wipe the blade on your pajama pants, and return it to the sheath strapped to your ankle. You should clean it properly, you know, but that'll have to wait. Even the thought of it is too exhausting right now.

You just want to get out of here. Fuck the curfew, fuck the corpse cooling between the rows of beds. Someone else will clean it up, you're sure. They won't want to go to sleep while the dead girl's blank eyes stare at them like that. You don't care what they think as you stride from the room, face schooled into a mask of calm indifference as everybody's eyes follow you and the bloody footprints you leave. Don't care if one of them will go running to your wingleader to tell him you're breaking the curfew. You have to get out, before you break down in front of all these people. They'd love to see it, wouldn't hesitate a second to kick you while you're down.

In the hall, you take a deep breath, but instead of the clean air you expected, you only get more of that smell of blood. For a second you wonder if it's just your imagination, then you realize where it's coming from — your top is soaked with the dead woman's blood, your hair literally dripping with it.

You should probably turn back to grab some clean clothes, then go take a shower. But you don't want to go back in there. They'd stare even more. Probably laugh at you for walking out without a plan and having to come back for fresh clothes. No. You're at your fucking limit for dealing with people. There's only one person you want to see right now — one person you can stand to be around right now — so you turn toward the staircase that will take you to the third-years' dormitories.

Bodhi must have still been awake too, because he answers his door upon the first knock. He only opens the door a crack wide at first, wary of who might come knocking at this hour, but throws it wide open at the sight of you drenched in blood. Worry furrows his brows as he pulls you into the room, gaze flying over you to figure out the source of the blood. He relaxes a little when he finds no injuries other than the small cut on your cheek and a scraped elbow, but his voice remains tense as he asks what happened.

You shrug. "Some girl wanted to kill me." Again, you don't have to add. You know Bodhi has been keeping count of the attacks made on you. You also know he's been disposing of anyone who threatened you that you didn't immediately deal with yourself, though he's clearly trying to be subtle about it.

"I take it she's dead now?"

"Mhmm."

"And you're okay, yeah?"

"Yeah. Just— Can I have a hug?"

Bodhi nods, and, despite the blood covering you, opens his arms. Stepping into them and nuzzling your face into his neck, you fully let down your emotional walls for the first time since entering this godsforsaken place and start to sob.

Bodhi sits down at his desk with you and lets you, just holding you tight and rubbing soothing circles on your back. You know he'd never judge you. The both of you have always been close — closer than you and Xaden, even. While your brother is your protector, strong and always pushing you to overcome your fears and be stronger too, your cousin is your safe space, the one you go to when you need a shoulder to cry on, who comforts you when you can't help but be weak.

You're not sure how long you sit there like that, finally letting out all your bottled up emotions. You've felt like curling into a ball and bawling your eyes out practically every day since you arrived at Basgiath, but sharing a dorm with all those other first-years, you haven't allowed yourself to give in to that weakness. Now that the floodgates are open, though, the tears soaking Bodhi's shirt flow and flow. When you finally manage to stop crying, your eyes feel puffy and sore, your whole head fuzzy from the exhaustion of sobbing for so long.

Bodhi hands you the half-full water bottle left on his desk, and you eagerly gulp down its contents.

"Better?" Bodhi asks when you set the empty bottle back on the desk.

"Yeah. 'm sorry, that was pretty pathetic," you sniffle, wiping at your face. "I've been trying so hard not to cry since I got here, I guess now it just all came out at once."

"That's okay. I can't imagine how hard it has to be for you to function in a place like this. Especially with everyone giving you shit for that thing." He taps the rebellion relic where it starts on your wrist, then takes your hand in his. "I know how much the stuff they say hurts, even if none of it is true. Maybe even more so because none of it is true."

You nod. Being helpless to correct the image the world has of your family is the worst part. Having to listen to them call your dad the Great Betrayer when all he'd wanted to do was help, and not be allowed to say a word against it. "I know they don't know any better, but I— I just—"

"I know. It'll get better once you have a dragon and your own room."

Maybe, but it's still so long until then. You're not sure how you're supposed to keep enduring this that much longer. At your sigh, Bodhi wraps his arms around you once more, rocking you softly with your head resting on his shoulder.

"You'll be okay, sweetie," he promises. "As much as things suck right now, you'll get through it. You're braver than you think. And I'm always here if you need anything, okay?"

You nod against the side of his neck, allowing yourself to close your eyes for a moment and just enjoy the embrace. When was the last time you got a real, long hug? Not the fleeting ones Bodhi and Eya sometimes give you when they see you in the hall and there aren't too many people around, not the brief squeeze Xaden gives you when he comes to say hi when he's visiting Violet, but a real, thorough hug?

You don't remember.

Your first day, after you survived the parapet, Bodhi had pulled you into his arms the second he spotted you amidst the other new cadets, but with so many people watching and judging, even that hug had been rather short. Now that you think about it, you realize you haven't been truly held since the apostasy — since right after your father's execution, when they'd ripped you out of your family's arms, away from your brother and cousin and everyone and everything you ever knew. Six years. Can it really have been that long since you had a proper hug? You hadn't even realized how much you missed that closeness, needed it.

Bodhi seems to realize it too, because he holds you tighter and says, "I'm sorry I haven't had much time for you outside of helping you train."

"It's alright. You're busy. 'n I'm busy, too. I didn't think becoming a rider would involve this much studying."

Bodhi chuckles at the disgust lacing your voice at the last word. "Well, this is a college after all."

You just hum, nuzzling your face deeper into the space where his neck and shoulder meet.

"Hey, don't go falling asleep on me," Bodhi warns. "I don't feel like sitting in this uncomfortable chair all night."

"Nh-nh, 'm not falling asleep," you claim, blinking away the sleep that indeed almost overtook you. You force yourself to sit up straight, suddenly remembering you're still covered in blood and probably smearing Bodhi with it, too.

"Liar," he says, smiling softly. "Why don't you go to bed, hm?"

You shake your head. Tired as you are, you don't want to go back to the dormitory. Don't want to leave the comfort of Bodhi's arms. You feel bad keeping him awake, but you want to stay here like this for just a little longer. Just a few minutes, then you'll stop bothering him.

But Bodhi offers, "You can sleep here tonight if you want."

You nod before he even finishes speaking, desperate for a reprieve from that crowded room and its occupants. Just one night of being able to truly relax, to fall asleep without worrying what the people around you might be plotting, without fearing if your nightmares might have you talking in your sleep — talking, thrashing, crying, revealing your weaknesses. Just for one night you can have cuddles and forehead kisses instead of all that, and, if you ask really nicely, Bodhi might even tell you a goodnight story — though, exhausted as you are, you'll certainly fall asleep without one just as easily. Tomorrow you'll have to go back to your usual everyday horror, but just for the next few hours, you can allow yourself to be weak and soft and cared for.

"Please."

"Okay." Bodhi ruffles your hair. "You definitely need a shower before I let you into my bed, though."

He doesn't have to ask to know that you'd rather not return to the first-year dorms for clean clothes, and wordlessly hands you one of his shirts and a pair of shorts, before directing you to the third-years' bathing chamber.

As you wash away the blood and tears, you decide you should wait until after curfew to shower more often. Having the whole showers to yourself is amazing. Savoring the rare moment of blissful privacy, you take your time — probably more so than you should, considering the trouble you would surely get into if you were caught in here this late at night.

But you don't get caught, and as you get comfortable on Bodhi's bed a little later, you already feel much better. Your cousin sits down behind you and towels your hair dry. You know you should do it yourself, but you're so damn exhausted, and it's so nice to just let yourself be pampered a little. It's already an effort to simply keep your eyes open, never mind lifting your arms. Besides, Bodhi seems content enough to do it.

Once your hair isn't dripping anymore, you lean back until you're resting against Bodhi, and close your eyes. Moving up on the bed to properly lie down crosses your mind, but it doesn't seem worth the effort. Bodhi takes the decision from you, nudging you and coaxing that you'll be much more comfortable laying your head on the pillow instead of him, until you eventually oblige. You're about to complain that you were more comfortable before — the pillow isn't warm like him, doesn't have a steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep — when Bodhi gets in next to you, pulling the covers over both of you and letting you snuggle close to him. That's much better, especially when he starts tracing soothing patterns on your skin.

"Thanks for taking care of me, Bodhs," you mumble, leaning into the touch.

"Of course, honey."

You feel him kiss your forehead, and as you start to drift off, you know there will be no bad dreams tonight.

[queer-ragnelle]

Why do you hate the Once and Future Knight? I decided not to pick up the book because of personal preference but I’d love to hear your rant on it

Hi anon!

I’m assuming you mean The Once and Future King by TH White?

There’s nothing I could say that hasn’t already been said before I’m sure. But I didn’t read the series until I had already read many other Arthurian tales and I really don’t understand the love the series gets. The negatives don’t outweigh the positives, and worse, the lasting impact of TH White’s characterization choices on subsequent retellings is a stain on the literary tradition that set us back too far to comprehend. Putting my rant below a cut because I went off and the subject matter is disgusting.

First and foremost, the bigotry is astounding. The racism, the misogyny, the ableism and every other prejudice and cruelty you can think of are staggering in their variety and magnitude. It’s vile. It’s inexcusable. I don’t read modern Arthurian retellings to be bombarded with that in every single chapter. TOAFK is not “a product of its time.” It’s a product of a deeply unhappy and hateful man. Plenty of earlier writing is vastly kinder to Palomides and Guinevere and Morgause and Mordred and Lancelot or any other character unlucky enough to be depicted by TH White. Literally the Medieval source material is more nuanced than that. Morgause get behind me.

Secondly, the anachronism is an annoying stylistic choice at best and yet another tool for bigotry at worst. Why are Mordred and Agravaine likened to Nazis? Like seriously what the hell? It’s not enough for them to be antagonists, the text has to invoke the Holocaust? It’s so extreme it rips the reader right out of the story and calls to mind the most horrific parts of history for no narrative benefit whatsoever. Baffling and bad.

Thirdly, the prose just kinda sucks. It’s rambling and TH White will pause the narrative to stand on a soap box to talk at the reader about his views. He’s anti-war. Fine. But of all characters to use as a mouthpiece—King Arthur? The warlord King Arthur? Make it make sense.

Fourth, most tragically of all, so much of what TH White did in his series is reflected in stories told to this day. Every other retelling has a cover quote comparing it to TOAFK. (It’s supposed to be a compliment!) To put it in perspective…

You ever read a retelling with evil neglectful parent and rapist Morgause/Morgan? TH White’s fault.

How about added incest between one of the Orkney bros and their mother (which sometimes results in someone other than Gaheris killing her, say, Agravaine or Mordred)? Thanks, TH White, that’s just what Arthurian Legend was missing, more incest.

Ever see disabled, crippled, bad seed Mordred? TH White started that trend.

What about Guinevere assaulting Lancelot when she learns about Elaine getting him drunk and raping him? TH White really said “Lol what if Guinevere hits Lancelot and spits in his face while he’s crying?”

And the racism! TH White walked so Thomas Berger could run (derogatory). Discussions of race are so intense and so frequent and so random like one minute the narrator has paused the plot to talk about how war is bad and now it’s slandering Native Americans? Brother this is Medieval England what is even happening right now? Oh, look, another N bomb. The antisemitism! Weren’t you just comparing Mordred to Hitler? What do you mean the Orcadian/Scottish characters are evil because of *checks notes* “the incalculable miasma which is the leading feature of the Gaelic brain?” [Queen of Air and Darkness chapter 5] Thanks TH White for stripping Lot, Morgause, Gawain, Agravaine, Gaheris, Gareth, and Mordred of all nuance, a condition from which they have, literally, never recovered. Of course there are some retellings since that write one or two of them with a crumb of nuance, but they’ll never be like they were in the Vulgate. Not all at the same time. I feel sick.

It goes on and on. I have to stop listing examples or I’ll get pissed off. But frankly, more people should be pissed off about it! I’m tired of seeing five star reviews on storygraph and goodreads accompanied by a review excusing the most bigoted garbage I have ever read in a children’s book. It’s vile and everyone should feel bad about defending it. It’s inexcusable. This wasn’t a case of good-intentioned inclusion with dated language, this was an author going out of his way to be hateful. Period.

Big names in the fantasy book community like Daniel Greene should not be awarding five stars and leaving an uncritical review.

Far too many readers acknowledge the racism and then rate it five stars anyway. Go to Hell, Spencer.

Here’s some from storygraph with, of course, praise for Marion Zimmer-Bradley’s pedophilic power fantasy Mists of Avalon, another piece of hot festering sludge everyone should stop talking about. Kill the legacy already. The real life victims have suffered enough.

There also seems to be a trend in these reviews that excuse the texts bigotry by referring to how “old” it is. Which is crazy to me for many reasons. TOAFK in its final form was published in 1958. That wasn’t that long ago. Also racism has always been racism, misogyny has always been misogyny, ableism has ways been ableism. Plenty of authors came before this and really make TH White look like a clown.

Let’s promote them. In reverse!

John Steinbeck wrote The Acts of King Arthur and His Noble Knights in 1956 (published posthumously in the 70s, don’t go by that date). His depictions of Morgan and Guinevere are nuanced and fascinating, not to mention some original characters including an old granny who teaches Owain to be a warrior! This book also has a morally gray sun-powered Gawain without insulting his heritage, an emotional and thought-provoking Lancelot without marking his sin with a facial deformity, and a really sweet Marhalt who doesn’t often get much spotlight!

John Erskine wrote Restoring Palamede in 1932. He does exactly what the cover says, and writes a story about the Muslim knight Palomides beginning in his own country, living with his parents whom are both named, and follows him as he learns the ways of the world and finds an ally in his friend Brangaine! Tristan and Isolde are compelling here and while Tristan can still be a jerk to Palomides, it’s not the mask-off bigotry we’ve seen…elsewhere.

Howard Pyle wrote one, two, three, four books between 1903-1910. Two thumbs up from me. No notes. He drank his respect women juice, drew them with loving care, named so many previously unknown, and gave them voices. He was kind in his portrayal to Palomides and even some other knights of color from India. Morgause survives the narrative! We love to see it!!!

Henry Newbolt wrote Mordred: A Tragedy in 1895. A fascinating examination of family ties, all five Orkney brothers here AND their wives Lyonors, Lynette, and Laurel! (Minus Ragnelle bc life is unfair.) Guinevere and Lancelot are tragic and heart wrenching. Arthur struggles against his son Mordred and their destiny in a way that doesn’t outright demonize either side. It will rewire your brain.

Richard Hovey wrote his poetry between 1891-1900. A complex and interesting Guinevere and Elaine who are not enemies, Lancelot close with Galehaut during the war, destroyed by his torn loyalties between Arthur and Guinevere, Gawain who loves his friend Lancelot with all his heart, and so much more without tearing anyone down!

Oscar Fay Adams wrote his poetry between 1886-1906. Here we get a wide variety of character focus, with title-featured names from King Lot to Dagonet to Lamorak to Lionel. Each one is more fascinating and nuanced and fresh than the last, from a tour of Lot’s castle and meeting each inhabitant to Lamorak on Grail Quest learning to forgive himself from “sweet” Sagramore.

William Morris wrote his poetry between 1856-1910. All of it is on the Camelot Project but I also have this scanned book. Here we delve into Guinevere’s trial as she calls out those who have wronged her, lonely Galahad on Grail Quest relating to his father Lancelot and praising Palomides in his steadfast hunt of the Questing Beast, there’s even a poem named for Palomides himself!!!

Anonymous wrote Moriaen in the 13th century. It follows Aglovale’s illegitimate son Moriaen, who is of African descent. As he travels around Britain looking for his father, Moriaen meets many people who are afraid of his dark skin. BUT! All the Knights of the Round Table leap to his defense, even threatening townsfolk who try to demonize Moriaen for the way he looks and refuse him service. It is, essentially, an anti-racism story from the Medieval era. Not to mention healer Gawain’s care and attention given to the sick and disabled. That’s not even the moral/focus of the story so much as Moriaen’s journey, but it’s there and worth mentioning.

So here we are with a whole list of stuff to read that predates TOAFK and surpasses it. The last one is only sort of a joke. But it’s there to make a point about how inexcusable TH White’s racism really is. If Anonymous could give a black knight like Moriaen the narrative respect he’s entitled to for existing as a representation of real human beings that look like him, then TH White was capable of it too. Progress is not linear. This is not to say Medieval times were “better” than society today. But to write off any problematic story of the recent past as “a product of its time” as an excuse to make oneself feel better about liking it, well, I don’t know what to say. Maybe reflect on that. And while that marinates, read something else.

[masked-disciple]

Oh, Ryunosuke...

Hey. Two things. Firstly, you're still our very best guy. Graduating or not doesn't change that. A lot of people got to live when otherwise they wouldn't, because of you. One of the biggest, most complicated legal systems in the world is a lot healthier, because of you. Kazuma would have died in England as a murderer if it weren't for the fact you were there and you were going to fix things or die trying - and you did fix things.

So you're gonna mourn the fact that your parents can't see the son they have, and that's gonna hurt and it won't be easy, and you're gonna remember that you're still loved, and that your worth has nothing to do with them, and if they don't like the person you are, then it sucks to be them, because I know none of us would trade you for the world. What would the world give, anyway? Not you, so that's not a trade worth doing.

And secondly... I'm sure if you got in contact with Professor Mikotoba, and Lord van Zieks, and whoever they put in Stronghart's office to replace him - because that guy owes his position to you - I'm sure the university of Cambridge would be perfectly happy to bestow upon you an honourary doctorate of law. Or you could ask Iris to ask the Queen, and you'd get knighted probably, because again, services to the crown.

You're allowed to be angry and sad and grieving and stuff - sometimes I feel the same way, because my parents don't want me either - but you're not allowed to think you're less than you are, because you're not. What you are is our very best guy, and who you are is criminal defense attorney Ryunosuke-goddamn-Naruhodo. You kicked van Zieks' butt several times, and he has a law degree and a decade of experience, and you started destroying him in court on forty days' of law knowledge.

You don't need a degree, because to be quite honest, what could they even teach you that you don't already know? And if your parents can't see that, maybe they out to go get a degree in appreciating their son. If they won't, well, their loss. Your actions in one year abroad are going to have positive shockwave effects across the world for decades. A century from now, they'll be studying your cases and trying to figure out the secret to how one unassuming guy in his twenties became one of the most talented and influential lawyers of the 20th century in less than a year.

Don't you sell yourself short, and don't you let anyone else do it to you, either. You deserve better than that, and if you don't believe me, I'll tell you so as many times as it takes to stick.

I'm back from my trip early. To keep it simple, it was not a good trip. Hope you all had a good weekend and go on to have a great week.

[sugahbunnies]

BUCKET LIST ☆ 15

Saiki is not so sure why you invited him and not Aiura for this. You are currently trying on different outfits, today is the day you go on the date with Toritsuka. Saiki has a sinking feeling in his stomach and he’s not so sure why. He fiddles with his fingers as a way to distract himself as he waits for you to open your bedroom door. You swing the door open and accidentally smack yourself on the face. Saiki immediately calls you an idiot while you wail and say, “this happened on my first day of school oh my God”.

Saiki is about to call you a name again but once he sees what you’re wearing, he coughs. You actually look .. maybe lovely ?

“You look decent, Toritsuka will definitely leave you after this” He comments. You froan a bit, a lightbulb going off in your head.

“Why don’t we go on a double date? I’ll call Aiura right now!” You pick up your phone. Saiki pauses before shaking his head.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea”, “Why not?” You insist, your thumb pressing against your phone.

“Let’s just hang out, you and me” Saiki insists. He is practically begging and you do not notice this because you are just so oblivious. All the damn time. You think about it for a second, then shake your head.

“I think it’s time for you to hang out with others more than me, right?’ You laugh a bit at Saiki’s face when you say that. He is so deadpanned.

But I like hanging out with you, Saiki thinks to himself.

“I mean I like that all we do is hang out with each other and stuff but” You drift off. “Why don’t we spend some time away from each other?”.

That irks Saiki pretty bad, you both don’t spend that much time together do you? It’s basically your fault, you always want to hang out with Saiki much rather than being with your alcoholic mother.

“Alright-” Saiki begins but you cut him off. “Hang out with me and Toritsuka, I think he’s trying to have his first kiss with me” You say in slight disgust which throws off Saiki. Do you not like Toritsuka? You are so hard to read sometimes.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything weird, okay?” Saiki reassures you, awkwardly patting your shoulder. You smile slightly at his gesture. He never ever touches you, except for flicking your forehead or hitting the top of your head with his fist.

“Thank you Kusuo” You grab his hand in return for his gesture, thinking he would allow this. He does not, he pulls his hand away from you.

“Call Aiura then, I’ll go with you” Saiki says in defeat, but honestly he’s just worried that Toritsuka might pull moves on you. It’s normal to be protective of your friends right?

“Awesome!” You exclaim, holding your phone up and spewing the details to Aiura. You can hear her squeal in return through the phone. Saiki sighs, why are all his friends in such pain? You come back to Saiki and look him up and down.

“Your outfit sucks, I’ll let you borrow my dad’s clothes” You say, heading out the door and looking back. You raise an eyebrow at Saiki, gesturing to him to follow you.

“I don’t want to intrude into your dad’s room” Saiki admits. Isn’t this a bit rude? He thinks to himself. You shake your head in response, your face now blank of all emotions.

“Why would it be rude? My dad is dead”.

Oh.

☆

Saiki is not one to question deaths, he rather move on and not burden the other person. But it’s you. So how could he not? You never really mentioned your parents, just that your mother is an alcoholic. Honestly, he questioned where your dad was but never verbally asked you. He thought, “Well if L/n wants me to know, they’ll tell me”. And turns out, he was kinda right. Although now he has no other details, just simply your father is dead. Saiki tries to stay out of his head as you both ride the bus. He just simply can't while wearing your dead fathers cream vest. Toritsuka had said to meet up at Neko’s cafe, he mentioned that Aiura will be waiting with him. Saiki knows they are really good friends but shouldn’t have Toritsuka picked you up? I mean, Kusuo Saiki is not a date expert but isn’t that the bare minimum? To pick up your date?

Saiki looks over at you, your hair is nicely done, unlike during school days. Your cracked lips have healed, he noticed this about a week ago but it’s still nice to see some progress. Trying not to seem creepy, his eyes shift to your legs. He counts how many bandages you slapped on to hide your yellowish bruises. Only three. Typically there’s about seven in total. Saiki still hasn't come to the conclusion of what illness you have. You haven’t told him yet. You don’t hide very well on how sick you are. Your backpack is always jiggling with pills as you skip down the hallways. Your bloodshot eyes and eyebags. Saiki decides to let you come to him first, which might not be a good idea. You are quite stubborn, and hate sharing personal information. Such as your dead father. Is Saiki the only one in the friend group who knows?

The bus comes to a stop, you tug at Saiki’s sleeve to pull him from his deep thoughts.

“We’re here” You whisper, your minty breath finding its way to Saiki’s nose. He snaps away from his thinking at the sound of your voice. He blinks, following you out of the bus. These days, it’s been feeling like he follows you everywhere and anywhere. And he’s wondering why he gets SLIGHT, not big, for anyone who wants to twist his words, SLIGHT butterflies at the sight of you smiling. He doesn’t feel this way with Kaidou, Teruhashi or any other friend. It’s definitely a new feeling that Saiki would rather not explore right now.

You halt as you both approach the entrance to Neko’s cafe. You make a disgusted look and turn to Saiki.

“This dude really chose a maid cafe to have a date at?” You scoff, stomping your foot. Saiki believes it, he’s known Toritsuka longer than you have and he’s not a bit surprised at this.

“A loser like him shouldn’t be taking out L/n, they deserve better”,. He rolls his eyes at his thought, why should he care? If you get heartbroken by a dude like Toritsuka that’s just sad and embarassing for you. Saiki wishes you had better taste in men.

“Let’s go in holding hands, let’s make this loser regret everything” You scowl, reaching out your hand and waiting for Saiki to agree. Saiki ponders for a bit, well, more like a few seconds before grabbing your hand. You are caught off guard by this, since when does this pink haired boy ever come in physical contact with you?

“Only ten more seconds” Saiki says, and you frown a bit.

Wow, where am I finding these trashy men? You think.

As you both enter, you immediately see Aiura and Toritsuka sat next to each other on a booth. Toritsuka is the first to notice you two. He waves you both over.

“Yo Saiki” He awkwardly laughs and makes a slicing motion between you and Saiki’s hands.

Oh my god, what a loser. Saiki sighs mentally, how is this purpled haired weirdo even slightly appealing to you?

Saiki decides to just sit across Aiura while you sit across.. well the other dude.

“You look good, Y/n” Toritsuka is practically foaming at the mouth while staring at you. Saiki places his chin on his palm and watches as you and the purple haired weirdo talk. He decides to block you both out, his attention on Aiura now. Aiura brought nail decals to put on Saiki, and he agrees. Might as well try to have fun while you try to have a love life.

“It bothers you?’ Aiura whispers, her eyebrows cocking up and down towards you and Toritsuka. Saiki is completely confused by her question, why would it bother him that his friend is on a date? He shakes his head in response, looking through the menu.

Coffee jelly supreme? Double the serving with extra whip cream too?

Saiki feels better now for coming to this stupid date. You look over at Saiki, whose getting his nails done by Aiura. Your smile drops.

Seriously? He lets Teruhashi get close to him and lets Aiura do his nails? You can’t even hold his hand for more than eleven seconds without him dropping your hand. You know he has been friends with them for longer than he has been friends with you but .. still? Is he not just comfortable with you yet? it’s been four months, it’s like a slow burn romance! Although there’s no romance and simply a friendship that has not blossomed fully.

“Order anything you want babe, I got it” Toritsuka pets your head. You nod and look down at the menu and .. a crepe rainbow cake! Only 918 yen! He can afford that, right?

You point at it and show Toritsuka and he immediately says “Ooo uh”. Your smile drops as he explains it’s too expensive. You frown and sink back in your seat, meeting Saiki’s eyes. His eyes show empathy, he blows on his nails before reaching in his pocket and taking out his wallet. Aiura giggles as Saiki passes you his card.

“Saiki, no way! You’re kidding”. Your face lights up as you examine the card. “Toritsuka, I might have to leave you for Saiki” You say with an obvious joking tone. Although the joke doesn’t register in Toritsuka’s head, he awkwardly laughs again but shoots Saiki a death glare. Saiki tries not to smile at your reaction, he looks away and breathes in deeply. He glances down at his nails and see the flower decals smiling at him. He looks up at Aiura who is also giving him the same silly smile. Saiki coughs to cover up his grin, watching Toritsuka try to gain your affection

How embarassing of him, honestly.

After ordering all your treats, Saiki notices a little gift bag by Toritsuka's side. He clears his throat, not knowing why he feels a bit off.

Jeez, why am I so protective over L/n, they’re just a friend.

“Tori, let me do your nails” Aiura shakes the bottle of clear nail polish, in return he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Nuh uh, i’m not doing that girly stuff” He glances over at Saiki, who shrugs his shoulders. You look over and gasp, reaching over and gently grabbing Saiki’s hand. You grab each finger individually as you inspect the stickers on his nails.

“Cute” You comment, your thumb rubbing over his fingers. Saiki feels those small butterflies in his stomach again, he pulls away as always and luckily, the waiter has came with everyone's orders.

Saiki stares at the large coffee jelly parfait infront of him, dipping his spoon in.

Worth coming here.

☆

After about half an hour later, you already devoured your crepe cake and the peach lemonade. You definitely took advantage of the fact that Saiki gave you his card. Who knows how much is on it?

Saiki feels like his stomach is about to explode. That coffee jelly parfait was way overboard. He glances over at Toritsuka, who has chocolate stains on the corners of his mouth. Saiki grimaces, watching how you giggle and offer your date a napkin.

The next thing that happens is enough for Saiki to throw up the coffee jelly.

You wipe the chocolate off Toritsukas face with the napkin. For some odd reason, he thinks this is the perfect time to lean over and give you a kiss on the nose.

Saiki grimaces again, looking over at Aiura with a look that says ,"Are you seeing this shit?”

Aiura coughs, looking at her phone. “Tori, our bus is going to leave in ten minutes” She shakes her bracelets to get his attention.

“Really, well, I’ll see you later cutie” He ruffles your hair and gives Saiki a thumbs up. Aiura squeezes your cheek and waves goodbye at Saiki.

You look over at Saiki and say, “Well, it wasn't that bad, was it?”

Saiki shrugs his shoulders, leading you out of the cafe.

“Weird how none of the employees had maid dresses on, this is a scam! We must sue” You frown, walking down the street. You are a bit too close but Saiki does not mind it as much.

“Toritsuka isn’t your type of guy” Saiki bluntly says, “What did he gift you?”.

You pull a ring out of your pocket and go “Tata”. Its a silver heart ring. The type that turn your finger green, of course.

“Interesting” Saiki murmurs, not knowing what to make out of this cheap gift.“I see you with a more sincere guy”.

“Like you?” You question, stopping in your tracks. Saiki turns to face you, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Would you want it to be me?”.

You look around sheepishly, your heart racing. You feel yourself about to stutter, a tingling sensation in your chest and fingers.

“I-”.

“Messing with you” Saiki says in a harsh tone, beginning to walk again but looking back at you.

“Right” You smile faintly while he gestures you walk to him.

“Want to hang out tomorrow?” You ask, your hands behind your back as you grin up at Saiki. He rolls his eyes and hits your head gently with his fist.

“Always”.

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part eight.

The thing is, you pride yourself on being stubborn.

Your parents hated it━ loathed that you wouldn’t give in when they demanded you find some other career path, something stable like finance or business. They hated that you moved out instead of submitting to their whims, and you imagine they hated even more that you declined every call and never answered any of the messages they sent for months afterwards until they gave up.

You’ll be the first to admit that it’s not a particularly marketable trait, nor is it very favorable in the eyes of others. It pisses people off more than anything, especially when they badger and push and prod and all you do is stand your ground. An old boss early into your career once nearly burst a blood vessel when you resolutely refused to take pictures at a private event━ threw a fit when you stuck by your morals to uphold the privacy of the athletes involved. But it’s a feature of who you are and it’s managed to save your ass more times than you can count.

Nonetheless, you also know that there’s a time when you have to swallow your pride and give in. Garrett and his threats to your career had been one of those times. A teacher in primary school and an argument about an uncompleted assignment had been another.

The situation with Lando, however, is not.

And just because Oscar is weirdly perceptive and creepily wise for his young age doesn’t mean you’re about to change things.

Why should you be the one to talk to Lando? Why should you reach out first to clear up the misunderstanding? He’s the one who misunderstood in the first place, and he’s the one that blew up without ever even thinking to give you a chance to explain what was actually happening.

If Lando wants you to talk to him again, then he’ll have to suck it up and apologize to you first. It’s the least he could do after implying the whole world thinks you’re a slut. It’s his fault you two aren’t talking in the first place, and the fact that he has the audacity to think you’ll just lay down and take it? That you’ll hear everything he had to say and just be fine with it?

Just thinking about it has you gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles the entire ride back to your flat.

This isn’t the first time the two of you have fought. It’s not even the first time Lando has been the one in the wrong. Beyond the disagreements the initial tension had caused in 2019, your worst spat was in 2021, following his crash at Spa during the qualifications for the Belgian Grand Prix.

The crash itself wasn’t the problem. You’d never get upset at someone for something out of their control, and Lando had hydroplaned because of track conditions and nothing else. But he’d been so nonchalant about it all, brushing off the medical staff with an “I’m fine,” and a “nothing’s wrong.” That, in and of itself, is not uncommon among Formule One drivers or even athletes in general. A lot of them disregard their own bodily limits and the damage they take if it means getting to do what they love, and Lando isn’t any different.

He’d had bruises all along his chest from his seatbelt and had needed to get a precautionary X-ray taken, but there hadn’t really been anything wrong. Even still, you’d fluttered about asking if he was okay, asking if medical had anything to say, asking if he thought he’d be well enough to race on Sunday. You’d understood that he’d probably been asked those same questions a few dozen times already in that hour alone, but he’d scoffed at your worry and told you to leave him alone.

So you did, after scoffing right back at him and snapping that you were just concerned and he didn’t need to be a bellend about it.

You’d ignored him for the rest of the weekend and stuck close to Daniel. Lando had had to corner you on the plane to finally apologize, and you’d jumped right back into the swing of things afterwards, laughing and joking around like none of it had ever happened.

That short fight seems like a cake walk in comparison to what’s happening now.

Deep down, there’s a desperate need for it all to go back to how it was before the winter off-season━ back when you and Lando would get drunk in each other’s hotel rooms on cheap wine while watching shitty reality TV, when you and Lando would make up stupid games in the airport waiting for your flights, when you and Lando would gossip like a couple of school girls about all the messy drama on the grid and around the factory.

But without Oscar’s infuriatingly mature outlook on everything, and his stupidly healthy way of perceiving relationships and the people involved in them, that same desperate need to have Lando in your life is buried down beneath your rekindled anger and a very justified pettiness.

Your flat is cold, dark, and empty when you push the door open. The sound of your keys clattering against the counter when you toss them echoes, as does the thud of your bag as you let it fall to the floor by your shoes.

You need to eat, shower, and sleep━ preferably in that order━ but when you open the fridge you divert your path from the tupperware of leftovers and reach for the pack of beers you never got around to finishing awhile ago.

Lando brought it around and you’ve never been much of a beer drinker, but he’d insisted you try it, so you had. The bitterness had clung to the inside of your mouth and you only made it halfway through your first bottle before handing it off for him to finish it for you. The rest of the pack had been allocated to your fridge for when he came over next, but that had never happened.

The fact that it’s beer is annoying enough, and the fact that it’s Lando’s beer pisses you off even more, but this is one of those moments where you have to push your stubbornness aside because you don’t have anything else and all you really want to do is get drunk and watch sad movies on your couch to forget about how upsetting your own life is at present.

You can’t cry over Lando if you’re already too busy crying over a fictional character.

It’s not particularly healthy, and you can imagine Oscar with his creepy omnipotence giving you a look for it, but you don’t really have the energy within you to bring yourself to care and Oscar isn’t actually there to judge you for it anyway.

The first half of February carries on similarly. You don’t get drunk every night, but you don’t talk to Lando either and Oscar’s heaving sighs and blatant exasperation whenever he third-wheels the frigidity between you and his teammate is explanation enough to what his opinion is on your choices.

But you’re standing firm.

It doesn’t matter that your phone sits heavy in the pocket of your trousers, searing into you like a hot coal with the knowledge of how easy it would be to just make a few swipes, press a few buttons, and end this whole thing━ to give in first.

The reality is that Lando did something shitty and you aren’t going to give him the impression that he has the ability to do similar shitty things in the future and get away with them.

So you cling to your hurt and your stubbornness, and you use every mildly annoying and slightly frustrating thing to keep the flame fueled within you.

Garrett helps, too.

You’re in Woking now, which is just over three and a half hours away from Manchester. Between the distance, your new schedule packed full with preparations for testing in Bahrain and the start of the season, and Garrett’s busier schedule with the resumption of the Champions League, neither of you have been able to find the time to be able to meet up for another staged date.

And it’s making Garrett fidgety. He wants results and he wants them now. Footballers always seem to have an inability to be patient, probably comes with the fact that they’re always on the move in one way or another, and this━ his reputation━ is no exception.

He sent you a bouquet of flowers for Valentine’s Day, which you posted on your story with a sickening amount of heart emojis, and you’d both made disgustingly sappy Instagram posts about the day and how hard it was to be apart for the sake of maintaining the illusion of being smitten with one another in your fledgling romance.

Since then, he’s been hounding you about when you’re free and reminding you rather unkindly about just what he’ll do if you even think about using your schedule to get out of the agreement the two of you have.

He doesn’t seem to understand that you’re contractually obligated to travel the country for the next ten months, and even if you wanted to spend time with him and pretend to be his perfect little girlfriend, you can’t.

It makes your mood even worse, and when you accidentally snap at a poor intern who’s only crime was asking you the same question twice, you decide you have to do something.

“Y/N!” Jack’s voice crackles over the phone, and the way he says your name alone━ the excitement and seemingly genuine joy laced in his accent━ makes you smile. “I thought you’d forgotten about me already.”

Much like Garrett, it’s been hard to stay in touch with Jack as well. Not as hard, because at least you like Jack and it makes it that much more motivating to put in the effort to reach out even when you’re exhausted from a day’s work and faced with hundreds of images you still need to sort through and edit, but still hard.

You message occasionally about the big things. He knows you leave for Bahrain in a few days to begin set up for pre-season testing, and you know that he got “White Girl Wasted” in Copenhagen after the team’s win. He also knows, from the few times you’ve called him tipsy and crying, anything and everything about the fiasco with Lando and just how deep it goes.

“As if I could possibly forget you, what with your amazing DJ skills,” you tease back, a bit self-consious of how your voice carries in the otherwise silent bathroom.

Jack laughs, deep and hearty. “Right. I’m a proper expert now, the lessons are paying off.”

“So what I’m hearing is now I’ll have to book you in advance to make sure you can play at my birthday party?” You dig the toe of your shoe against the tiled floor.

He hums, pretending to think on it. You can almost imagine how his face looks, eyebrows scrunched up and lips pursed to stop himself from smiling, like he’s having some intensely philosophical internal debate with himself. “You know,” he says after a moment of contemplation, “as a VIP customer, I think I can squeeze you in.” You can hear the grin in his voice. “But really, me and the lads all miss having you ‘round. I imagine a lot of them don’t like coming in anymore when they ain’t got a pretty face to look forward to.”

“Grealo, you flatterer,” you laugh. “I thought we agreed it was your job now to be the pretty face? You’ve got the cheekbones for it. And the hair.”

He heaves a dramatic sigh. “The lads just don’t appreciate me like you do.”

“Figures,” you murmur in mock commiseration.

Jack chuckles again and then clears his throat. “But real talk, though. What’s going on?”

You gnaw on your lip, worrying it between your teeth for a few seconds of baited silence before it’s your turn to heave a very real and very stress-induced sigh. “I don’t know,” you start, “I’m just stressed outta my mind and I can’t really talk about it with the people here, which makes it worse. I snapped at an intern and then lied to her about why I was stressed which made me feel doubly as bad.”

“Not fun,” Jack replies.

“Not fun at all.”

“What’s got you so stressed?”

“Everything,” you groan. “Garrett won’t leave me alone about trying to schedule another outting, but I can’t just leave and spend the day in Manchester with him on a whim. The factory is really hectic with everyone getting ready to go, and I’m included in that. But he seems to think I’m doing it on purpose, just to spite him, and if I wasn’t genuinely swamped with work then maybe but that’s not the case this time and he just won’t listen.”

You run your hand down your face, pinching at the bridge of your nose to try and alleviate the ache behind your eyes.

“He’s threatening me again, and I’m trying to explain to him what’s going on, but he’s a prick as you know so of course he isn’t listening. And on top of that,” you squeeze your eyes shut, “Lando’s still ignoring me. And because Lando won’t talk to me, Oscar thinks I should talk to him, except I still don’t think it’s too much to ask for a simple apology.”

Jack hums. “You’ve got a lot on your plate, sounds like.”

“Yeah,” you grumble. “Tell me about it.”

“I think, that you shouldn’t have to talk with Lando until he apologizes. Outside of work, at least,” he starts. “What he did, what he said, hurt you a lot and you’re entitled to that hurt. And if this Oscar guy keeps pushing you to talk when you obviously aren’t ready and don’t want to, then he doesn’t sound as wise as you said he was.”

You make a noise. “No, he’s like freakishly wise, Jack. Sometimes it makes me wonder if I’m doing the right thing by sticking to this. I’m like, if he, of all people, is telling me I should talk with Lando, then maybe I should. Except I’m not. Because I’m pissed off.”

“And you’re entitled to being pissed off,” he says.

“It’s just messy,” you whine. “And I hate messy when it’s my life and not pretty people on TV or random logistical folks from the offices that I don’t know the names of because they never actually go to races.”

Jack hums again, “I feel you there. You just gotta take it one at a time, yeah? One foot in front of the other, and all that.”

“You got that from Rudolph,” you snort.

“Yeah,” he laughs, “and he’s a reindeer with a glowing nose and that’s pretty fucking cool so sue me if I pick the lad as one of my inspirations.”

You really do miss Jack. If Oscar plays the role of your little brother, then Jack takes the spot of the older one. His laughter is warm and friendly, familiar in the way that feels like coming home after a long day of work. From the day you walked in and found him waiting for you in your office, he’s always looked out for you.

Back at Etihad Campus, whenever the guys were telling stories, he’d always be sure to elaborate and explain who everyone and what everything is so you could feel included in it all. He was the first to take the plunge and invite you out the group dinners and hangouts, including you with the boys even when he didn’t really need to. You were a temporary addition to their team, and not even all that important, but he’d taken you under his wing and seemingly made it his mission to make you feel wanted.

He always just seems to know what to do.

“What do I do, Jack?”

“Well,” he drawls out, “with Garrett, I think you just gotta lay it out for him. Show him a screenshot of your crazy full calendar if you have to. He’ll listen eventually, you just gotta smack it into him sometimes. As for Lando…”

Jack sighs, “I think you’ve got two options here. You either keep waiting it out and hope he realizes how much of a total fucking muppet he’s being and apologizes, or you take the first step and start the convo.”

“What happened to making him jealous using Garrett?”

He makes a noise. “I don’t think you ever really wanted to make him jealous.”

“You’re right,” you mumble. You pull at a loose thread on your shirt. “Is it stupid that I think I’m still in love with him even after all this?”

“No,” Jack says. “I think if you weren’t still in love with him then you probably weren’t in love to begin with. It makes us do crazy things, things that hurt us sometimes.”

You both fall into silence.

“I wish I could go back in time and never even answer Garrett’s call,” you huff, hoping it hides how your voice cracks with emotion.

“I know you’ve already said it’d be too risky, but if you wanted to break things off with him, me and some of the other lads are all still willing to stand up for you if he tries to start any rumors,” Jack answers.

You shake your head, not caring that he can’t even see it. “It’s been too long now. If he comes out with some misconduct rumor he could just as easily make something up about the times me and him spent alone on our dates. Not to mention, with the way my comments and inbox was flooded with death threats just because I started dating him, I don’t want to imagine how bad it’d be if he purposefully weaponized his fans against me.”

You take a deep breath, “Even if my career somehow managed to survive, I don’t think I would.”

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght @bellezaycafe @whentheautumnleavesfall @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ssprayberrythings @landosgirlxoxo @lifelessfan @81ja @wcnorris @a-disturbing-self-reflection (CLOSED).

━━ a/n: i have not gotten around to editing this, so i do sincerely apologize if there are any mistakes. it's nearly 5AM and i pulled a crazy amount of consecutive all-nighters while keeping up with the pre-season testing, so my brain isn't functioning as well as it probably should be, and that's also why it took me a little longer than normal to get this out. i'm running on four hours of sleep from last night and my hopes and dreams! so, alas, if there are any grammatical errors, that's why. anyways, i hope you enjoy! i'm very excited to begin working on the next part~

[stargazer-sims]

Count On Me

Like your favourite chair, I'll hold you close whether you lose or win. I'm that breath of air flowing out and flowing right back in. I hope you know that I am here, always close and always near.

♫ Count on Me - Diana Ross ♫

_______________

This will make more sense if you've already read Full Circle and Broken Glass

CONTENT WARNING - violence, death

_______________

"Ugh... I suck." Fox sinks onto his sister's couch with all the grace of a seal flopping onto a beach rock. He leans his head against one of the decorative cushions on the back of of the sofa and lets out a groan. "I never imagined I'd screw up a conversation so much. And with my own kid, no less."

Now that he's calm, he realizes how exhausted he is. He navigates difficult situations all the time at work with kids in care, biological parents, foster parents, and professionals connected to each of his clients, but none of those interactions ever seem to drain him as much as this one conversation with his teenage son has.

He'd shared everything with Clancy in the car on the way over to her house, all about his confrontation with Forest and what had led up to it in the first place, and about his frustration and sense of inadequacy to handle it. Clancy was sympathetic, but he could tell she also had a lot she wanted to say. To her credit, though, she hadn't offered any of her own opinions in the car. She'd let him talk

Clancy hands him a mug of tea and then sets her own mug on the coffee table before sitting down next to him. "You don't suck. Your kid sucks."

"No, he doesn't."

"Okay, maybe not him personally, but it sounds like his attitude could use a serious adjustment."

"I don't know where we went wrong," Fox says. "None of our other kids are like this. Not that they're angelic or anything, but the other five combined don't give us as much trouble as Forest does. I thought we were parenting them all more or less the same way, but we must've dropped the ball with Forest."

"I don't know why you think it has to be your fault, or Takahiro's," Clancy says.

"Because we're his parents."

"And?"

"And we're supposed to teach him how to be his best self," he says.

"Kids are individuals, you know," Clancy points out. "You can try your hardest, but at the end of the day, they're the only ones who can decide if they're gonna be the best version of themselves or not. Forest is seventeen. He's going to make his own choices whether you like them or not."

"Yeah, but I hoped he'd make better ones."

"We all want that," Clancy says. "I want Grey and Frankie to make good choices too, but they're getting to an age where I have less and less influence over them. Especially Frankie. A sixteen year old with a driver's license and a part-time job? That kid thinks she owns the world."

"I'll bet she's never openly questioned your love though, or looked you in the face and told you to shut up."

"She knows better than to do that," Clancy declares. "She's free to make her own choices, with the understanding that every choice has consequences. I might not be able to spank her any more, but she knows I'm not above handing out other punishments."

"You know Taka and I don't punish our kids."

"Maybe you should," she says. "I know you guys are into that gentle parenting or whatever, but sometimes trying to reason with a kid is about as effective as banging your head against a brick wall. I'm not saying you're failures as parents, because you're totally not, but I think a few well-placed slaps on the bum when he was little might've done Forest some good."

"Violence isn't the answer, Clancy."

"Nobody's telling you to commit violence," she counters. "People shouldn't be indiscriminately hitting their kids every time they make some little mistake. All I'm saying is that on the occasions when using your words isn't getting the job done, sometimes you have to use other methods."

Fox sets his tea down on the end table and then turns to fix his sister with a level gaze. "Such as assaulting children?"

"Oh my God." Clancy lets out her breath in an audible huff. "I see where Forest got that hard head from."

"Excuse me?"

"Fox, you're deliberately missing the point," says his sister. "Look, I know spanking was never in your playbook, and it's fine. It hasn't been in mine either since Frankie was maybe six or seven years old. My point was, sometimes just talking to a kid isn't enough. Sometimes they need a stronger message."

"Such as?"

"Such as consequences that make them think about their actions. Some people have to learn things the hard way."

"I guess that makes sense," Fox concedes.

"Of course it makes sense," Clancy says. "Forest needs to understand he's not entitled to a free ride through life and that he can't get away with throwing a tantrum when things don't go his way, and you and Takahiro need to teach him that before someone else does, 'cause they won't love him like you do and... you know."

"We'll give him a safety net, and other people won't."

"Exactly."

Fox sighs. "Why can't parenting be easier?"

"If I knew how to make it easier, I'd write a book, make millions of dollars off it, and retire from the police force." Clancy gives him a half-smile. "Incidentally, if you think you've got it hard, you should try parenting by yourself.

"Sorry," Fox says. "I wasn't thinking of—"

"No, don't apologize. I was the one who brought it up." She reaches for her own mug of tea. Several seconds pass as she holds the mug between both hands and gazes into it. "The actual parenting part wasn't any less difficult when Garrett was alive. It's just... I miss being able to discuss things with him, and I miss us backing each other up."

"I don't know how you got through it," Fox tells her. "I'd be devastated if anything happened to Takahiro. I have no idea how I'd survive losing him."

"You'd survive," Clancy says. "I can't tell you how, but you'd do it somehow. If you were on your own, you'd have no choice. You'd find a way to do it for your kids."

His sister is right. As much as he knows a part of him would want to lie down and surrender, he would go on for the sake of his children, just like Clancy did. "I guess I would."

"You would," Clancy reiterates. "Sink or swim, you know? It's what you've got to do."

Fox nods. "I know."

He recalls the day, eight years ago, when his brother-in-law Garrett died. It had started as a perfectly normal Friday in early August, and Fox had been at the office finishing some paperwork and writing notes on the files one of his co-workers, Chloë St-Jean, would be overseeing for him while he was on vacation for the following two weeks. His mind hadn't been entirely on the task. He'd been too busy daydreaming about his family's upcoming camping adventure. He pictured himself playing and exploring with Taka and their kids, spending hot, hazy afternoons painting by the lake, making s'mores and singing campfire songs, and then snuggling by the slowly fading fire with Taka after all the kids were tucked into their sleeping bags.

Lost inside his own head, he barely acknowledged the approaching sound of police sirens on the street outside his office window. About fifteen minutes later, the distinctive wail of ambulance sirens racing past the building didn't entirely register either. It was only when Chloë dashed through the open doorway of his office with her phone in her hand and a wild look in her eyes that he pulled himself away from his reverie.

She announced herself with, "I just got a call from my brother."

"What happened?" Fox asked, and then because Chloë seemed so upset, "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he and Belle are fine, thank God. They're shaken up, probably like everyone else, but they're not hurt."

"What happened?" he asked again.

"Fox! There was a literal high-speed chase outside your window, like twenty minutes ago, and you didn't notice?"

"A high-speed chase? In downtown Willow Creek?" He was thoroughly confused and knew he sounded incredulous, but he couldn't help it. "I heard the sirens, but I didn't realize—"

"Davian said the car the cops were chasing crashed straight through the front of the building where his studio is," she explained, breathless. "Some people in the building got hurt, and Dav said they could hear shooting outside and he thinks somebody might've died, but he didn't know if it was a police officer or one of the bad guys or somebody else."

As things unfolded, Fox learned that more than one person had lost their life. While Chloë was still in his office, trying to calm herself down after the phone call with her brother, Fox's own phone rang. It was his sister.

"Fox, I need you." Clancy's normally strong, assertive demeanour had been replaced by a voice so weak and small that he almost didn't recognize it. "I got a call from dispatch. It... it's Garrett. There was a situation... something happened downtown."

She offered as much information as she knew, and asked Fox to meet her at the hospital. When he arrived at the ER, he found Clancy, her partner Harry, and two uniformed officers standing in the waiting area, apparently heedless of the handful of unoccupied chairs. To an outside observer, Clancy might've seemed steady and composed, but Fox could tell she was a hair's breadth away from losing it. He couldn't speak for Harry or the two patrol officers, but he knew why Clancy wasn't sitting. The instant she let herself relax, she'd fall apart.

The uniformed cops started to move toward him as if they might try to stop him from getting to his sister, but Harry reached out and put a hand on one of their shoulders. "That's her twin brother. It's fine."

Fox hadn't wanted to be right, but the moment Clancy was in his arms, she let out a sound that was so filled with anguish that it couldn't have been mistaken for anything else. Then, she began to sob. It was as if every tear she'd never allowed herself to shed throughout her life finally burst out of her in an almighty flood.

He'd never seen his sister like that before, and he hoped to God he'd never witness anything like it again. He didn't know what to do, so he just held her as tightly as he could and let her cry.

Clancy was wholly incapable of getting any coherent words out, so it was Harry who told him, "He didn't make it. Garrett, I mean." The detective clenched his huge fists and growled, "That bastard got him."

Harry went on to explain that Garrett and his partner had responded to a 911 call from an employee at a downtown bank who reported an armed robbery in progress. Just as they arrived on scene, the two armed suspects exited the bank and jumped into a waiting car where a third person was already behind the wheel. That, Fox learned, resulted in the chase Chloë had seen from her office window. Harry couldn't say if the getaway driver had lost control of the vehicle or if he'd smashed through the front of a building on purpose, but the collision had effectively ended the chase.

The driver of the getaway car was killed on impact. The back seat passenger, who was still armed with his gun from the robbery, scrambled out of the car and attempted to escape, but he was injured too. He fired at other officers who'd arrived on the scene, but he didn't get far before they were able to disarm and apprehend him.

Meanwhile, Garrett and his partner were checking on the front seat passenger. The guy was obviously injured, and according to what Harry found out from Garrett's partner, they thought the man was unconscious. When Garrett reached in through the smashed car window to check for a pulse, the man suddenly opened his eyes, grabbed Garrett's wrist with one hand and whipped out a previously concealed knife with the other. Before anyone had time to react, the man plunged the long, sharp blade directly into Garrett's neck.

The paramedics made a valiant effort to save him, but he'd passed away in the ambulance, less than a kilometre from the hospital.

"This job's a fucking nightmare some days," Harry concluded. "We all know the danger, but it's like you put it out of your mind so you can get shit done. And then you develop this thing where you start to believe it's never gonna happen to you. Or to somebody you love."

Clancy and Garrett had loved each other passionately, and they both knew the risks. They'd met when Clancy was still a patrol officer too, and despite the warnings of their parents and their fellow officers that getting involved with another cop wasn't a great idea, they would not be deterred.

Six months after they met, Clancy earned all her qualifications to become a detective. Six months after that, she and Garrett got married in a stunningly elaborate ceremony. complete with a police honour guard made up of their colleagues and friends.

They were over the moon when baby Francine came along, and just as elated at the birth of Greyson three years later. It was obvious to everybody who knew them how devoted they were to each other and to their little family, and their bond only grew stronger as time went on.

They loved like there was no tomorrow, as Garrett's mother had put it, or in Garrett's own words, "Make it count. Do all the living you can while you've got a life to live."

Fox was left utterly shaken by the description of his brother-in-law's last minutes. He couldn't imagine what it must've been like for Clancy to hear it again.

"Can I take her home?" he asked Harry.

At that, Clancy raised her head from his shoulder. "No," she said weakly. "I can't go. Not until I see my husband."

So, they waited.

When a doctor eventually came out and said Clancy would be permitted to view the body, both Fox and Harry went with her. When she saw her husband lying on the gurney, with a pristine white bandage across his throat, Clancy let out a scream so feral that Fox struggled to accept it was coming from a human. The sound of his sister's pain and the image of her cradling the pale, still body of her husband had haunted his dreams for months after that.

When they finally did depart the hospital, Fox had to guide her to his car. She stumbled along beside him, seemingly unaware of anything, mumbling things to herself that Fox was unable to comprehend.

He'd been afraid to leave her, so he took her to his own house. Knowing Frankie and Grey were safe with Garrett's parents, he made the decision to let them stay there undisturbed for the time being. Clancy was in no condition to help her kids, and Fox knew they'd be even more traumatized by what had happened if they saw their mother in that state.

As soon as they walked through the front door, Takahiro was there to meet them. He held out his arms to Clancy and she stepped straight into his waiting embrace. Open-hearted Takahiro, with his gift for comforting others, didn't say he was sorry or utter any meaningless platitudes. All he said was, "We're here for you."

Fox could visually observe the tension leaving Clancy's body. She sagged in Taka's arms and whispered, "Thank you, Takahiro."

It wasn't until the next morning that Clancy was ready to be with her kids, and even then she wasn't able to tell them about Garrett herself. It was actually Takahiro who’d broken the news to them and, in his gentle way, answered their questions about what dying meant.

Fox was grateful. He wasn't sure he could've handled it as gracefully as Taka did, and when he said as much to his husband later, Taka's response had been, "It's all right. Sometimes people need help from someone who's one step away. Close enough to care, but not so close that they can’t see things in perspective."

That piece of wisdom is something Fox has carried with him ever since. He thinks he fulfills that role in the lives of his clients, his niece and nephew and his friends, and he's taught himself to recognize when he needs someone to step into that role for him. As much as he wants to prove he's grown enough to manage things on his own, the truth is that he can't keep all the proverbial balls in the air by himself. No one can.

"Hey."

Fox realizes he's allowed too long a pause in the conversation when his sister's one-word sentence interrupts his reminiscence. He glances over at her. "Sorry."

"You okay?" she asks.

"Yeah. I was just thinking."

"About...?"

"Garrett," he admits. "Sorry if that's weird."

"It's not," Clancy says. "I was thinking about him too."

"Because of what I said?"

"Not really," she says. "There isn't a single day where I don't think about him at least once. Sometimes it's the most random thing that'll remind me of him. Like, when I accidentally burn the toast at breakfast, or when I catch myself squeezing the toothpaste in the middle. That annoyed Garrett so much. He used to say I was wasting it."

Fox smiles. "Taka gets after me for being a middle-squeezer too."

Clancy releases an abrupt laugh. "A middle-squeezer?"

"That's what he calls it. He's an end-squeezer, and he thinks that's the only correct way to squeeze out toothpaste. He also thinks there's only one correct way to put a roll of toilet paper on the holder too."

"There is. I had it on good authority from my late husband."

"We have to heed the experts," Fox says.

"Yeah," says Clancy. "God, I miss him. Sometimes I still come up with stuff I want to tell him, and I have these moments where I think 'I can't wait to tell Garrett when I get home from work'. But then I remember, and... yeah."

"So then you call and tell me."

"I'm glad you don't ignore my calls, even when it's about something dumb like seeing a stray chicken in the parking lot at Tim Hortons."

It's Fox's turn to laugh. "Can you imagine the lame jokes Garrett would've made about that? But yeah... you know I'll never ignore your calls. I'm here for you, one hundred percent."

"Same goes for you," Clancy says. "And you're not wrong about the jokes. Garrett thought he'd be a great stand-up comic, you know. He used to write down all his best material, as he called it. Kept it in a notebook in the apartment."

"The garage apartment?"

"Yeah. Well, it wasn't the garage apartment then, but you know what I mean."

As far as Fox knows, Clancy and Garrett's attached garage had never actually had a vehicle in it. The previous owners had been using it primarily for storage, and when Clancy and Garrett bought the house, Garrett decided it'd make a perfect family room. They had the garage door removed and replaced by a regular wall, had a small bathroom built in one corner, and moved in their big-screen TV, exercise equipment, pool table and an old sofa Clancy got from one of their cousins. Fox and Taka had spent many evenings hanging out with Clancy and Garrett, chatting and watching movies while all the kids played together nearby.

After Garrett passed, Clancy had the space converted into a bachelor flat so she could rent it out and supplement her income. She hired a contractor to construct a kitchenette and to install a separate entrance so her tenants wouldn't have to enter or exit through the house.

"Do you go in there much?" Fox asks. "To the garage apartment?"

"Only to collect the rent, or to fix stuff or clean up after somebody leaves," she says. "I gotta go in there this weekend, actually. I thought the student I had was going to stay for the whole school year, but she up and left. Decided she was going to move in with her boyfriend instead. She left it looking okay, but I still have to clean the floors and give the bathroom a good scrub."

"If you need help, let me know."

"Why? Are you going to send your kids to..." She lets the sentence fade and then grins at him. "Oh, wait."

"What?"

"I just had a genius idea," Clancy declares. "It's brilliant. Kind of a win-win, you might say."

"So, tell me what it is."

"You really could send one of your kids to the garage apartment. I mean, if Forest wants to move out so badly, maybe he should."

"And you think he should move in here?"

"Why not?" says Clancy. "He has a part-time job, doesn't he? He could pay me a little bit of rent every month. You wouldn't have him disrespecting you under your roof any more, and he'd learn how to be responsible for himself."

"I don't think he could do that, being totally on his own."

"He wouldn't be totally on his own. I'd keep an eye on him to make sure he's not going completely off the rails." She winks conspiratorially. "We just wouldn't tell him he's being surveilled."

"He wouldn't last a week," Fox says.

"Weren't you ready to let him run off to Japan by himself earlier today?" Clancy inquires.

"Do you think I actually believed he would?"

"You called his bluff."

"I did," Fox confesses.

"I'll bet Mom and Dad didn't believe you'd run away, but you did. They didn't think you'd make it on your own either, but you did that too."

"Fair point, but the difference between me and Forest is that my life was actually terrible and I had a valid reason to run away. I had to get out of there, and I was ready to change. Plus, I was twenty-five and fully educated."

"True, but the end goal is still the same," Clancy insists. "Look how much getting out from under our parents' roof did for you."

Fox considers it. He likes Clancy's plan in theory and he's thankful that she's willing to covertly supervise Forest, but he's not totally convinced his son could cope with being independent. As much as he wants Forest to learn that particular lesson, it'll defeat the purpose of the experiment if Forest begs to come home after only a few days.

"I'll have to discuss it with Taka," he says.

"I'd be concerned if you didn't," Clancy replies. "You can let me know what you decide, but don't take too long, okay? I want to advertise it for rent again if Forest isn't going to be moving in."

"Okay," Fox says. "Hopefully, we'll be able to let you know by the weekend."

[ficsforeren]

Our Little Secret - Chapter 6 (End)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Eren Jaeger X Female Reader

Genre: College AU, Spider-Man/Spider-Girl AU, Fluff, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Eventual Smut

Series Summary: Eren Jaeger, a 21-year-old virgin college student who loves his camera a little bit too much, has a crush on you. Every night, he switches on his camera and talks about you but he never could find the courage to speak to you in real life. Strangely enough, he finds it easy for him to befriend Spider-Girl, the crime fighting vigilante, not knowing that you both share the same identity.

Chapter Summary: Eren still can't believe that he just went on a date with the most popular girl in school and kissed the hottest superheroine in town all in one night. He tells himself that he has to make a decision—to choose between you and Spider-Girl, not knowing that you two are the same person. Well, maybe it's time for you to reveal your little secret.

Content Warnings: swearing, mentions of characters going through depression, traumatic past events, a little bit of smut near the end (not too explicit)

Word Count: 16k

Poster art by the most talented @rainbuniart on Twitter

Armin Arlert loves Eren Jaeger. He does. He really does, like in a platonic-but-can-also-be-qualified-as-super-gay-way-sometimes. 

He adores him. Might even name his fictional son after him in the future, who knows? He thinks Eren is the best friend he could ever ask for. Armin wouldn’t put his life on the line to save him, true, (‘cause as much as he loves the guy, that bitch can die on his own since it will probably be because of his damn fault anyway), but he would definitely sacrifice his most precious body pillow if Eren’s life depends on it and that’s saying something. Actually, hold up. Let’s not make any hasty decisions here. It’s a special, limited edition dakimakura with his fictional wife printed on it while wearing a slutty maid outfit. He ain’t gonna throw those glorious 2D titties just for Eren’s lousy ass.

Though his actions may speak otherwise, Armin does care about him. More than he has ever cared about anyone else, really. Even on those days back in high school when he was a bit… bicurious, Armin had imagined himself—more than once (or ten)—being with Eren and how hot it would be if he had Eren all tied up on his bed with his body shrouded by wet tentacles that were stimulating each of his sensitive spots. He knew it was weird to imagine his best friend begging him with tears in his eyes, saying lewd things like “Please, Master Arlert, please give me your thick, hard cock and fill me up with your seeds. I want you to breed me like a fucking whore,” but Armin was an eighteen-year-old virgin with a raging sexual desire, okay? Can you really blame him? (yes, please blame him, he's insane).

It didn’t help that Eren looked so pretty with his hair down either, especially when he was sitting half-naked on Armin’s bedroom floor during those hot summer days with a popsicle stuck inside his mouth, making questionable groaning and sucking noises as he jammed his thumbs against his X-Box controller. It also didn’t help that Armin had watched too much hentai in his spare time but at least, he was proud of it. Eren watched tentacles porn too—and enjoyed it—but he would always pretend he didn’t and say that he preferred lesbian porn just so he could “fit in” and “be normal” or whatever. Fucking coward.

We’re getting sidetracked but the point is, Armin loves Eren to the moon and back, but sometimes, sometimes, he just wants to break all 206 bones in his body, squeeze him into a pulp and flush him down the toilet. And by sometimes, he means now.

“Armin!” He can hear the sounds of small rocks hitting his window, followed by Eren’s husky voice calling his name in a mix between a shout and a whisper. “Armin! Dude, wake up!”

Armin only has one eye opened, glowering at the digital clock on his desk that shows it’s two in the fucking morning. His parents might be heavy sleepers—the government has to drop a nuclear bomb for them to wake up—but Armin needs complete silence to be able to wane into his dreamland (which would be the only place for him to be embraced by his fox-eared waifu). He tries to ignore the asshole standing outside his window, but that so-called green-eyed butthole is as stubborn as he is relentless. 

Gathering a handful of pebbles, Eren throws them one by one, continuously hissing Armin’s name like a demonic cat. With each stone hitting his window, Armin transforms even further into a seething monster. By the sixteenth pebble Eren throws, the blonde-haired boy pushes himself off the bed, grabs the baseball bat he hides inside his closet—which he bought not for sport, but for this very reason—and stomps his way to the front door.

“Armin!” Eren rejoices when he sees his best friend walking past his lawn, moving toward him. “Oh, thank God, you’re awake! I need to talk to you—WAIT, WAIT, WAIT, WHAT ARE YOU PLANNING TO DO WITH THAT BAT?!”

“I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU, JAEGER!”

It’s always like this with them—Eren annoying the shit out of him and Armin trying to kill him two or three times in a row—but it would all end well, not with laughter, but with a massive bump on Eren’s head that may or may not be big enough to trigger permanent brain damage. But then again, Eren is already an idiot. He’s probably maxed out at this point. 

“One of these days, Arlert,” Eren groans in pain, rubbing the back of his skull as he wills his tears to stop brimming in his eyes. “I’m gonna file a restraining order on you.”

“That’s my line, you nincompoop.”

“I don’t know what nincompoop means but that doesn't sound pretty.”

The two boys sit on the little stairs that lead to Armin’s porch (five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay). Armin still has his baseball bat between his legs, his golden hair all tousled from his one-hour sleep. Eren, who’s usually attentive to another person’s well-being, is too excited to pay attention to the bags forming under his eyes. Playfully bumping his shoulder against Armin’s, he asks him, “Dude, guess who just had his first kiss tonight?”

“Why do we strive for perfection if it is not attainable?” Armin says, dramatically sighing into the night. “What is the meaning of a good life? Is there a meaning in life itself? Are we human or are we dancers?”

Eren, now confused, has his smile wavering. “The hell are you talking about?”

“Oh, I thought we were just throwing out random questions.”

“That last one wasn’t even a question. That was `Are We Human’ by The Killers.”

“Yes and they were asking us whether we are human or dancers when they should have been asking: why can’t we be both?”

“It’s me,” Eren replies flatly. “I just had my first kiss.”

“Oh, wow, congratulations. I did not see that coming at all.” There’s no mirth or enthusiasm on Armin's face. He's just clapping his hands as he keeps his voice monotone. “Your lips aren’t a virgin anymore. Make sure they don’t turn into a whore.”

Eren, well-accustomed to his sarcasm, remains unfazed, continuously acting like the love-struck puppy that he is. “Aren’t you gonna ask me how it felt like?” He wiggles his eyebrows, showcasing a cheeky grin. “I’ll give you a clue. The word starts with an A and ends with a G.”

“Anal Rimming?”

Eren sends him a flat stare. “It’s amazing.”

“Sure, if you say so. I mean, I’ve never done anal or rimming before so I wouldn’t know, but hey, if it’s amazing then good for you, buddy.”

“I meant the kiss, Armin!”

This attitude Armin is throwing at him is his way of saying dude, I love you but I’m so fucking pissed at you right now, and Eren understands how much he’s being selfish for taking Armin’s precious sleeping time. He knows and he apologizes for it. But if he doesn’t tell Armin about the kiss—about how he’s both overjoyed and conflicted by it—he’s sure as hell he’s going to lose his mind. 

Armin, despite how snarky he is, can only exhale exaggeratedly in defeat once Eren puts his best-kicked puppy look on display. “Fine, you twat. Spill.”

And with his permission, Eren’s words come rushing in like a bullet train. “Dude, it was insane.” Whenever he thinks about the kiss, the first thing Eren feels is joy. The kind of joy that is so fierce, it leaves him burned and paralyzed by it. “I’ve been imagining what my first kiss was gonna be like since forever but even the sweetest dream wouldn’t be able to compare to how amazing it was.”

Armin can see it—that glow on his face. It’s the first time he’s ever witnessed his best friend being this happy. It's disgusting. “You sound like that sappy Aerosmith song.”

“And to think that I was having my first kiss upside down!”

“Wait, what?” Armin finally shows a reaction, his eyebrows adjoined in the middle. “Upside-down?”

“Yeah, she was hanging upside down.”

“Hanging? How—why—” You know that Jackie Chan meme? The one with him looking all confused? Yeah, that’s Armin right now. “Where were you? In her room?”

“Umm… no. We were outside.”

“In public?”

“Yeah, but no one was around. Oh wait, there were like three guys around us but they were unconscious.”

The more he explains, the more perplexed Armin becomes. “Why were they—no, who were they?”

“Just some dudes wanting to steal my camera.” Eren turns sheepish, his index finger scratching his cheek at the memory of you fighting so gracefully under the rain, almost like dancing. The words he says don’t match his expression at all. “They had, like, a knife against my throat. It was really scary.”

“Oh yeah, I can tell, ‘cause you’re blushing so hard right now.” At this rate, being sarcastic is the only way for Armin to keep himself sane.

Eren, to Armin’s horror, giggles. “I remember the way she came by. It was so dramatic. She beat their asses to save my life like bam, kapoww, kapoww!”

Almost getting hit by Eren’s lame attempt at re-enacting your punches, Armin cringed, “Please stop.” 

“We kinda flirted a little bit after that and I just, you know…” Eren has really turned into a thirteen-year-old girl at this point. “I kissed her. She was hanging upside down. There was rain pouring above our heads and we were, like, smiling into the kiss. It was so romantic.”

Fuck Jackie Chan. That meme needs to be reinvented using Armin’s face now. He’s more confused than any Chinese man could ever be. “Hold up, you fucker.” He pushes his eyeglasses up his nose, a pair of sapphire eyes scrutinizing Eren's face as if he could find the answer if he looks hard enough. “How and why was she hanging upside down?”

“Well, she was about to swing away when I stopped her and so she was hanging onto her web and—”

“Her web?” This dude makes absolutely no fucking sense! Armin is now picturing you (not Spider-Girl. You.) in your preppy girl outfit hanging upside down on a tree like a fucking monkey, exchanging tongues and saliva with an actual monkey who was twice your size. The result? Absolutely ludicrous. “Dude, what kind of kinky shit are you guys into?!”

And it’s only then that Eren remembers something. “Oh, no, you’re getting the wrong idea. I wasn’t talking about her. I kissed a different girl.”

“You kissed a diff—” Armin stops himself before he explodes. Taking a deep breath, exhaling with his eyes closed, he mutters under his voice, “Lord, give me strength.” When he blinks open his eyes again, Armin seems much calmer, although his grip around his baseball bat is tightening twice as hard. His fingers are just itching to smack the shit out of his best friend. Again.

Eren, scared for his life, has both hands in the air. “Calm down, Min.”

“I’m calm, I’m calm.” But he takes another deep breath just in case. Armin smiles—that kind of deadly smile that doesn’t reach his eyes—when he asks, “Let’s start from the beginning. You went on a date with Miss Popular.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“But you didn’t kiss her and instead you kissed someone else.”

Now that Armin phrases it like that, that feeling of remorse that Eren felt an hour ago comes back rushing in. Eren still loathes himself for kissing another girl right after his date with you ended but the thing is, it felt right. It felt like it was something he had been wishing to happen for years. He had spent all this time imagining what it would be like to share a chaste kiss under the rain with you—the college version of you. But when the moment was there, he couldn’t do it. It didn’t feel right. He felt guilt at that time, knowing that Spider-Girl kept showing up in his head when he was supposed to be thinking about you. But he didn't feel any of that when he shared those kisses with that alter ego of yours. He just felt joy. It felt amazing. It felt right. 

But with Armin confronting him about it, he returns to the dilemma he was drowning himself in a few hours ago. The time when he realized that he was in love with Spider-Girl instead of you.

“Yeah,” Eren admits in shame, casting his gaze downward. “I kissed someone else.”

Armin fixes his glasses again, just so he’d have something to do instead of looking flabbergasted at the revelation. “And who did you kiss?”

“Umm… Spider-Girl.”

Armin looks at him and Eren looks back. Three seconds pass by in silence and then—

“AW!” Eren shouts in reflex, not caring if it’s two-thirty in the morning, right after Armin smacked him with the end of his baseball bat. “Dude, stop doing that! It hurts!”

“You’re fucking with me,” Armin says, hitting him repetitively on his side. “You’re absolutely fucking with me right now. Can’t believe I woke up to listen to you spouting bullshit!”

“I’m not bullshitting you!” Eren winces, trying to dodge his next attack.

“You’re saying you kissed one of the town's hottest superheroines? The same girl who took down the Lizard—no, the same girl who looks smoking hot in that white spandex—you kissed that girl?”

“Yes! Fuck—Stop hitting me!” Eren, at some point, manages to snatch away the bat from Armin’s grip. His body feels sore all over, even more than when he fought those men in the alley. “Yes, Armin, I kissed her.”

“Yeah,” Armin snorts. “And I just had some raunchy sex in the barn with Green Goblin. Expect his babies to pop out of my ass in nine months.”

The brunette rolls his eyes. “Look, Spider-Girl and I have been friends for weeks now. Here.” Eren retrieves his phone from his pocket, going through his gallery before he shows the selfie he took with you in your costume on the night you shared stories on the rooftop of St. Mark’s theater. You were both so close to each other, shoulders nearly squeezed together as you tried to fit your faces inside the frame. Eren had the biggest, gleeful grin, his skin seemingly tanner than usual next to your white mask and hoodie. Armin examines the picture with suspicious eyes, his gaze shifting back and forth from his friend’s face to his phone. 

“Hmm, very convincing,” Armin comments. “Not sure where you found the skill to photoshop this shit so fast when it took you a week to choose a fucking filter for your Twitter PFP but okay. Assume that I believe you—I don’t,” he emphasizes. “But for the sake of our conversation, let’s just assume I do."

"Fine." 

"So you kissed her.”

“Yeah.”

“Upside down in the rain?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And how was it?”

“It was…” Eren’s cheeks sizzle at the memory. “They were… soft. Her lips, I mean. They were so soft and they tasted… sweet.”

Armin’s expression turns from suspicious to I’m-tired-of-your-shit-Jaeger in 0.2 seconds. “I was thinking more like it was bad because I’m sure she had rain clogging up her nose, ‘cause that would’ve sounded more realistic, but sure, let’s be corny.”

“Wait,” Eren blanches. “Do you think she was uncomfortable?” It’s stupid that he only realizes this now, but then again, what else is new?

“Yeah, well,” Armin shrugs. “Hanging upside down certainly didn’t seem like it was the best position to make out in, 'cause you have blood rushing to your head and all. And since it was raining, she definitely had water getting up her nose.”

“Oh my God,” Eren utters in horror, his hands going to his head. “Why didn’t I think about that?”

“Probably cause you were too busy sticking your tongue down her throat.”

Eren has no consistency in managing his emotions because at one point he was panicking, and now, he’s back to giggling like a schoolgirl. “Yeah, we used tongue a few times. It was so exciting.”

“Give me back my bat. I’m gonna kill myself with it.”

But jokes aside, the question remains. How could Eren, who has zero games in dating as far as Armin knows, kiss another girl—and not just another girl, Spider-Girl—right after he went on a date with one of his campus’ most popular girls? Even the sentence sounds bizarre and he hasn’t spoken them out loud. Most importantly, though, why? Why did Eren do it? “I thought you were in love with her,” Armin says. “Miss Popular, I mean. You spent the entire summer jerking off to that one picture of her wearing that short skirt and now you’re saying you like some other girl whose face you don’t even know?”

“Did you have to phrase it like that?” Eren mumbles in shame though he can’t deny the fact that he did spend—well, not the entire summer, the entire two weeks, probably—masturbating to the thoughts of you. It wasn’t the proudest moment in his life, but in his defense, that skirt you wore looked super cute on you. “I know, I fucked up,” he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m the worst.”

“How did this even happen?”

Eren tells him everything, and the more details he reveals, the harder he drowns in his guilt. He feels like he just betrayed and disrespected you—both you and Spider-Girl and it hurts him terribly because he still can’t decide between the two of you. He’s so conflicted he feels like he’s about to vomit his insides. 

“It’s so weird, you know?” Eren says. “At the end of the date, I was sure she wanted me to kiss her. I mean, like, the moment was there. We both felt it, and I wanted to do it but I… I kept thinking about Spider-Girl and it just felt… wrong. I didn’t want our first kiss to go that way—me kissing a girl while thinking about another girl. It wouldn’t be fair to her.”

“Should’ve just kissed her, in my opinion,” Armin counters. “If you had done it, it would’ve been easier for you to make sure of your feelings now.”

 “But that would’ve made me the biggest asshole in the world.”

“You are the biggest asshole in the world. But yeah, probably. Did it feel right when you kissed Spider-Girl?”

Though the remorse on Eren’s face still stands vividly, some of it morphs into delight at the memory. “Yes, it was,” he admits. “It felt like… something I should’ve done weeks ago, you know? Like, why didn’t I realize sooner that I’m in love with her kind of feeling. And I keep thinking about everything—about my feelings toward Spider-Girl and my feelings toward her and it’s stressing me out. Do you think a man can be in love with two girls at the same time?”

“You’re talking to a guy who has, like, seven different waifus. Of course, you can,” Armin snorts. “The problem is, unlike my wives who don’t know I exist, you have to choose. Unless you want to continue being a gigantic fucking asshole for the rest of your life, you need to decide who you want to be with.”

“I know...” Eren starts chewing on the inside of his cheek. It feels like he has a storm raging inside him. “I think I’m in love with Spider-Girl because I feel like… I know her better. I mean, I’ve been spending more time with her, so she feels more like a person to me. More… You know, real.”

Armin nods. “But when you went on a date with Miss Popular, did you enjoy it?”

“I did.” His answer is immediate. “More than I expected I would. She was so nice and funny and she… She gave me a scarf ‘cause she thought I was cold. She was so caring. She was great.”

“What if her personality is just as attractive as Spider-Girl’s then?” Armin provides a new perspective—a genuinely good one, which is rare considering how big of a pervert he is. “I feel like you just need some time to get to know her better.”

“Yeah, but how can I do that if I keep thinking about Spider-Girl? What if every time I see her, all I do is compare her traits to hers? It’s not fair.”

“Okay, let me ask you this,” Armin sighs loudly into the air. “Can you really see yourself dating a superhero? You don’t even know her real identity or what she looks like. What if she’s ugly?”

“I don’t care how she looks.” Determination stands thick in Eren’s voice. “It’s her—” He clears his throat, his face turning scarlet. “I-it’s her heart that I love.”

“Oh my God, I’m gonna throw up on you.” 

“I mean like her mannerisms!” Eren hastily adds when Armin threatens to jam a finger inside his own mouth. “Her attitudes, the way she talks, the way she thinks, and the stuff we talk about—that’s what I care about the most. She’s my best friend.”

“Excuse me?” Armin repeats, offended, picking up his weapon.

“A-after you, of course.”

“That’s right, bitch.” He drops his baseball bat back to the ground. “Okay, fine, you don’t care if she’s ugly. Not my problem. But does she like you?”

“I think so? I mean, she kept asking me to kiss her again. You don’t do something like that with someone you don’t like, right?”

“Yeah, well, strangers fuck at nightclubs all the time. I won’t think too much over a kiss.”

The pretty shade of red that paints Eren’s face turns pale by the second. “You don’t think she likes me?”

“I do, but is it enough for her to want to date you?” Armin lands a hand on the other man’s shoulder, giving him his best sympathetic look. “I wouldn’t be so sure, man. Look, I’m not trying to sound like a douchebag for crushing your R-rated dream so early like this but you’re my friend and you need a reality check so here it goes. She’s a superhero. Okay? She’s busy. She doesn’t have time to play tonsil hockey with nerds like us. Plus, if she cares about you then maybe she won’t date you ‘cause you’ve seen what happened to Mary Jane, right? That chick got taken hostage at least once a week these days, ’cause of what?”

“Umm… Cause she’s dating Peter Parker?”

“That’s absolutely right, you nincompoop.”

“Like I said, I don’t know what nincompoop means.”

“At this point, MJ doesn’t even scream anymore when she has a gun pointed at her head. She’s just like—” Armin pretends he has his smartphone between his hands, his thumbs moving to type something. He keeps his face blank and his voice monotone, talking in an exaggerated New York accent. “‘Oh no, please, don’t hurt me, I’m scareeeed. Hashtag SpideyDrama, hashtag Spidey-MJLoveStory. Take a cute selfie with my kidnapper—” He pretends to take a picture, puckering his lips while forming a peace sign with his two fingers. “—aaaand post.’”

Under different circumstances, Eren would have laughed. Armin’s impression of her was spot on. “Yeah, but that’s because everyone knows that Peter is Spider-Man. No one knows who Spider-Girl is.”

“Yes, but if you keep making out with her in public, they’ll know about you, and then what? You want to start doing your own TikTok trend? Hashtag PrayforErenJaegerTheNewDamselinDistress?” Eren parts his lips to answer but he’s stopped by two hands squeezing him by the shoulders. “Look. Just give Miss Popular another try, okay? It’s easier to be with her than being with Miss Vigilante, I promise you. Plus, Spider-Girl knows how you feel about her, right? Don’t you think it would make you sound like a player if you talked like a lovesick fool about another girl, but then you confessed to her three days later?”

Again, it’s absolutely ridiculous that Eren just realized this now. “You’re right,” he utters in horror. “Holy shit, you’re right.”

“Of course, I am.” Armin scoffs, tossing back his imaginary long hair over his shoulder. “Forget about Spider-Girl for now. Give it a week or two to sort out your feelings. Or focus on something else, like jerk off to your favorite tentacle porn or something. If you still feel like you can’t move on from her then, we’ll go to Plan B.”

“W-what is that?”

Armin retrieves his bat. “Me, beating the shit out of you until you suffer from a massive concussion and forget about this whole thing.”

“Yeah, why don’t we just stick to Plan A for now, thanks. But no tentacle porn.”

"Pfft, whatever, your loss."

***

You have never—never—felt like you were floating in the clouds after sharing a kiss with a boy, and yet there you are, climbing through your window with the biggest dopey smile on your face. You take off your mask, throwing yourself on your bed with the longest, most blissful, content sigh you’ve ever heaved in your life. 

You have two fingers tracing over the seam of your lips, your skin somehow still tingles whenever the memory of that kiss resurfaces. The sweet, pleasant taste of his mouth still lingers near. The soft texture of his lips is the best thing you’ve ever felt against your own. 

“Eren…” His name drifts past your lips and you find yourself giggling, turning over to your stomach before you let out a high-pitched scream against your pillow. It felt like a first love’s kiss and perhaps it was since he is your first love, isn’t he? You haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. Every cell in your body seems to scream I love him, I love him, I love him every time his smile appears behind your closed lids. It feels like you’re thirteen again, just a lovesick girl whose fingers are itching to pour every emotion you felt into your journal. 

Dear diary, I’m in love. 

You didn’t think your first kiss with him would be like that, but it was ten times better. No, a million times better, even if you did have rain clogging up your nose at some point. Eren was so… passionate, you think to yourself as you feel your stomach flipping at the memory of his lips melding against yours. You may be a virgin, but unlike him, you have experienced many first kisses before and none of them was this memorable. None of them managed to awaken the butterflies in your stomach as his kisses did. And none of those boys tasted as good as he was.

“I am down so bad,” you sigh as you hug your pillow close to your chest, a dreamy smile sketched upon your lips. I can’t wait for tomorrow to come. I want to see him. I want to be with him again.

With that thought in mind, you begin to create your diabolical plan to reveal your true identity to him. As cute as he was looking all conflicted from falling in love with both you and Spider-Girl, you decide not to torture him even longer. It’s unbelievable, the amount of elation you felt the moment you realized that he’s fallen for Spider-Girl. It’s clear proof that he wasn’t just attracted to your looks, but your personality too. It puts you at ease, knowing that he keeps catching feelings no matter what persona you’re putting in front of him. He fell for you when you were just an innocent little girl who couldn’t do anything but fangirl over Wonder Woman all day. He fell for you when he saw you stepping onto the podium to accept your science medal, blinding everyone with your perfect smile. And he fell for Spider-Girl, your alter ego that embodied your true personality.

I wonder how you would react when you find out that I’m all those three?

“Maybe I should step up my game,” you mumble to yourself. “Maybe I should be a little…”

The corners of your mouth curve up. Your smirk is just straight-up evil at this point. Hell, even Norman Osborn didn’t look this wicked when he turned into Green Goblin. 

“Aggressive.”

***

When Eren told his brother, Zeke Jaeger, that he wanted to borrow his motorcycle to pick up a girl this morning, his brother was on the floor. Literally on the floor. 

Zeke was skeptical at first, snorting loudly as he muttered, “Pfft. As if you could get a girl to notice you. Bet my ass you’re just being delusional.” But then Eren, heaving the biggest sigh, raised his phone in the air, flashed his wallpaper—that one picture you took on your date with you smiling as you kissed his cheek—on his brother’s face and Zeke collapsed to his knees.

“Oh my God.” Zeke landed both palms on the parquet, eyes shaking in horror. “Oh my fucking God.”

Eren, who was accustomed to his brother’s dramatic antics, simply shrugged when his aunt Dina looked at them funny. “He’s having a moment,” he explained and Dina just returned to her cooking, not wanting to deal with any of that. 

It usually took Zeke a while to get back on his feet—literally—when he was having an episode like that. Eren simply waited with his back leaning against the wall, checking his watch with boredom written in his eyes. “Try and make it quick. I got a date.”

“I can’t believe you found yourself a girl before me,” Zeke sobbed. “I thought it was Armin dressing up as a girl again—"

“We’re over that phase now.”

“—but no, she’s actually a cute fucking chick. Probably has massive badonkers too.”

“Please don’t say that.” Great, now I can’t stop thinking about it too, Eren adds inwardly, face flushed. What if she… does have massive badonkers—I mean, tits—I mean, breasts. He shakes his head. Eren, you idiot. Who cares if she has huge boobs or not. Flat, or huge, those are still great tits—no, stop thinking about her tits!

“Fuck, what if it’s true?” Zeke looked up to his brother from below, like a tortured servant to his sadistic master. “What if she’s packing some dobonhonkeros? Like, massive dohoonkabhankoloos, ya know what I mean? Big old tonhongerekoogers—”

“Language, Zeke,” Dina chimes in from the kitchen. “I don’t understand what you’re saying but I know they’re filthy words so stop it.” 

Eren, in the meantime, is conflicted between not thinking about your breasts or smacking the shit out of his brother. “You’re being disrespectful, stop it.”

“GOD, I WANT A GIRLFRIEND—”

“JUST GIVE ME THE GODDAMN KEYS!”

Zeke, almost with tears painting his eyes, handed them over to him. “Once you’re finished with it, do me a favor and just run me over. I don’t have the dignity to keep on living anymore.”

“Will do,” Eren said—promised—as he threw a black leather jacket on top of his white shirt. “I’ll be back in two hours,” he informed his aunt. “We’re just gonna study in my room after that.”

“Studying each other’s bodies?” Zeke uttered with jealousy coating his tongue. “Gross.”

“Statistics, actually.” Eren planted a small peck on Dina's cheek. “See you, Aunt Dina.”

“Bye, love,” Dina chuckled, seemingly proud that her nephew—one that she regarded as her own child, unlike the other one—was old enough to bring a pretty girl home with him. “Make sure to bring her something. Us girls love gifts.”

“Okay.”

“And buy some condoms on your way home.”

Eren nearly tripped over his feet. “I-it’s not like that!”

Zeke was lying flat on the floor at this point, like a stabbed victim on a crime scene, only in his case, the knife was invisible and he was bleeding tears from his eyes. “When can I get myself some bonkhonagahoogs…”

“Please kick him out before I get home,” Eren said.

“Trust me, darling,” Dina sighed. “I've been trying to do that since day one.”

“Guys, I’m literally right here.”

“Shut up, Zeke.”

***

Eren is just as jittery as he was during his first date with you, only this time, it’s ten times worse as he keeps thinking about Spider-Girl no matter how much he tries not to. The guilt he felt over the kiss sticks permanently in his mind, and it feels like he just committed adultery with a church elder or something when he isn’t even in a relationship with you—any version of you. But even so, he tries to stick close to his plan. He has promised to spend some time studying for finals with you, and he intends to give his full attention to you and no one else. Since he’d brought you a bouquet yesterday, he decided to buy you homemade chocolate truffles from this cute candy store downtown, one that Dina claimed to be the best one in the world. 

He arrives two hours early at your ballet studio, feeling so nervous to see you again that he feels like the whole world is spinning too fast before him. He’s waiting outside in the parking lot, leaning against Zeke’s all-black Royal Enfield Classic 350 with his phone in one hand and his head on the clouds.

What am I going to say to her? Can I even act normally around her? What if she—

“Eren.”

“Fuck!” The boy jumps on his feet, almost losing his grip on his phone from how startled he is. He spins his head around to the side, spotting you standing close with your gym bag slinging on one shoulder. His shock-filled eyes quickly traverse down your body, taking in the sight of you dressed casually in your fitted black tank top and white track jacket. “W-why are you not wearing your tutus?”

Out of all the things he could’ve said, of course, that’s the first thing that comes out of his mouth. “Because I’m still outside and my practice isn’t going to start for another ten minutes?” You reply with a hint of teasing in your voice. “You look handsome today, by the way. I always think you look hotter wearing a leather jacket instead of a hoodie. Not that I don’t like it, though. Hoodies make you look cute.”

This is an ambush, Eren thinks. You, casually throwing your compliment at him as if it’s nothing, feel like a fucking ambush to him. “I—Umm—You look—You look cute too.”

“Thank you,” you titter. “I can’t believe you arrived here before me.”

“Oh... Y-yeah.” It suddenly feels like it’s twenty degrees hotter for him. “I guess I was a little early.”

“As always,” you toss him a smile—the one that has the perfect amount of beauty and shyness that makes his heart swell in his chest. “You’re not planning to wait out here for two hours, are you?” When Eren has no answer to give, you chuckle. “Gosh, you are too cute. Come here.”

“Huh?” 

“You can wait inside.” It’s so natural the way you tangle your hand around his even when you can feel your own heart palpitating. “It’s warmer there.”

Eren, with his cheeks turning scarlet, follows after you. “Is—is it really okay?”

“Well, no. Usually, we don’t allow strangers to watch our rehearsals.”

“Then, why—”

“Relax, Ren.” You hurl a wink at him. “Petra—my instructor—is a close friend of my mother. I’ll just tell her you’re my boyfriend and she’ll make an exception for me.”

Three things left him dumbfounded. The first one is clearly the fact that you just called him your boyfriend. Second, it’s that naughty, naughty wink you threw at him, one that matches your cute little devilish grin. But none of those were as surprising as the way you called him with that nickname. 

Ren.

You’ve never called him that before, have you? But Spider-Girl called him Ren all the time, which is why to his ears, it sounds so familiar. The way you said it. The way your voice sounded when you did. Even if his mind tries to deny it, his heart still pounds. It feels so strange for this to just be a coincidence but you don’t give him a chance to think about it long.

“I’m gonna go change into my tutus, okay?” You tease him once you enter the studio, chuckling at your own words. “You can sit at the back. Try not to stare at the other girls as you wait.”

He knows he’s dumb but today he just feels ten times dumber and it shows. “W-why not?”

“Well, obviously, because you’re pretending to be my boyfriend today.” You reach out a hand to fix the collar of his jacket, watching him flinch at the way your fingers brush against his collarbone. “And also…” You look up at him, turning your voice into a breathy whisper as you feign a pout. “I don’t like seeing you look at other girls. I want you to look at me.” You take a hold of his key-shaped pendant, twisting your fingers around his necklace. “Only me.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. If there was steam coming out of his ears, Eren wouldn’t be surprised. He does feel like his face is about to explode. “I-I’ve only been looking at you.”

“You sure?” Your tongue peeks out to wet your lower lip and Eren swallows at the sight. “You seemed so… distracted last night. You weren't thinking about some other girl, were you?”

He’s staring at your lips. He’s definitely staring at your lips. Oh my God, her lips. “I—I didn't—I wasn’t—” He’s panicking. He’s already having a hard time trying to stay alive from your attack. You really didn’t need to bring back Spider-Girl into his head, but you did and that’s why you fit more as a supervillain instead of a hero.

Eren can practically taste the minty scent of your breath from how close you are when you grin at him. “I’m kidding,” you giggle, patting his cheek and giving him back his space. “You look like you’re about to pass out. You okay over there, big boy?”

“Yeah…” Just feeling like I’m having a cardiac arrest but I’m fine. “Good luck with your dancing—your practice. Break an arm.”

God, he’s an idiot, I love him. Refraining yourself from laughing, you stand on your toes and grant him a soft kiss on his cheek. “It’s break a leg, dummy,” you whisper in his ear, your smirk brushing against his earlobe. His face is practically in flames when you turn on your heels, tossing him one last smile before you disappear inside the changing room. 

The rehearsal starts on time and there you are, walking back into the studio dressed in pink seamed ballet tights, a black halter-neck leotard, and a pair of beige pointe shoes. Your outfit, the way the fabric hugs your body tightly, leaves no room for his imagination to wander. It’s so unfair that you look both adorable and effortlessly sexy at the same time. Eren doesn’t know whether he wants to say, “You’re so cute, I want to squeeze your cheeks!” or “You’re so hot, I wanna clap those cheeks.” He wants to do both, honestly, but he’ll need to rephrase that last line if he wants to be, ehem, respectful.

He can see your back muscles contracting as you perform, your skin glistening under the light, coated by a thin layer of sweat that somehow only makes you look more erotic. He hates the way his mind thinks, so he tries to focus on your movements instead. Every posture you strike is as graceful as it is beautiful and Eren has to remind himself to blink before his eyes fall out of his sockets from staring too long.

You try to concentrate as much as you can on the instructions Petra gives you but every time you see your reflection in the mirror, you also notice the way his eyes are entranced with every gesture you make. He’s staring at you like you’re the only girl in the room—the only girl in the world, even. As much as it pleases you to be the center of his attention, it’s also harder for you to focus on your steps. You just can’t wait for your practice to end.

Eren is so captivated by everything you do, and if he had brought his camera with him, he would’ve taken every bit of your expression. He wishes he could record everything. The way your body moves… Even the slightest lift of your finger is fascinating to him. At this moment, all thoughts about Spider-Girl vanish away from his mind. It feels like he’s falling for you all over again, his heart throbbing like on that day when he saw you on campus for the first time. You’re so pretty. So, so pretty that you leave him breathless.

“Hey,” you greet him again once your rehearsal has ended. “Sorry you had to wait long.” You’re dabbing a towel against the side of your face, gathering your belongings in your arms as the other students are making their way to the changing room without you. “I’m all sweaty so I’m just gonna go take a shower real quick. Is that okay?”

Eren can see a bead of sweat running down the side of your face, disappearing right between your cleavage. It’s the most pornographic thing he’s ever seen and this comes from the man who spent the whole summer watching questionable porn clips with Armin. It also doesn’t help that Zeke’s face keeps appearing in his mind, whispering to him, “Bro, look at those badonkers,” and no, Eren doesn’t want to look at your badonk—breasts. It’s very inappropriate, and you deserve to be respected. 

Fucking monke. Eren is going to run him over for real after this.

“Eren? You okay there?”

He coughs once, trying to focus on your face instead of your, in Zeke’s words, dohoonkabhankoloos. “Yes, I—uhh… I’ll just go wait outside, okay?”

“Okay.”

You’re not sure what you’re expecting but when Eren walks away without saying anything about your performance, you feel a sliver of disappointment growing inside you. Keeping your thoughts to yourself, you tighten your grip around your bag and pivot on your heels.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Eren says, stopping you in your tracks. You turn around, facing him with a questioning brow. The boy smiles at you, doing it so beautifully, so delicately, so lovingly that you feel like you can fight the whole world just to protect that smile. “You look so beautiful when you dance,” he says, his eyes gleaming in the adoration he holds for you. “So graceful, you’re like, uhh… Like an angel.”

It’s corny. It’s corny and cliche, and embarrassing, and you love it. If anyone else had said it, it would’ve sounded like the cringiest pick-up line, but not him. Eren said it like a confession as if he truly felt that way and he had to tell you the truth no matter what. He doesn’t intend to sound corny, of course, but what can he do? You did look like an angel in his head. But now that he’s hearing the words out loud, he can’t help but feel mortified by them. “S-sorry,” he blushes. “I didn’t mean to sound so… lame.” 

“No, it’s fine.” You could feel a pleasant warmth pooling inside your stomach. “Thank you.” You smile back at him, a bit timidly but as beautiful as always. “Will you… come and watch my recital next time? It’s not until three months from now, but—”

“Of course!” His eyes light up in excitement, his voice loud enough to make three people turn their heads at the sound. “Of course, I would love to! Can I bring my camera with me?”

You almost laugh. He reminds you of that little Siberian husky he owns, the way she looked so excited as she ran down the street, chasing a hummingbird. “Yes. Yes, you can.”

***

There are a lot of things Eren is grateful for in his life. He’s thankful that he has his Aunt Dina taking care of him and his brother after his parents passed away. He’s thankful that he has Zeke, no matter how obnoxious he is, for always lending him his credit card whenever Eren is in desperate need of money (involuntarily, true, but let’s not get into details). He’s thankful that he has Armin in his life to knock some sense back into him, both literally and figuratively speaking. And of course, he’s thankful that he met you—every version of you, though he hasn't noticed yet. But today… Today he doesn’t direct his gratitude to his Lord. Today, he wants to thank whoever it was who decided that motorcycles should have these super cramped seats because holy shit, they’re doing God’s work.

“I’m sorry for holding onto you like this,” you say with your hands tangled around his waist, a little bit embarrassed with how close you are to him. The motorcycle itself is designed to be a two-seater, but apparently, comfort for the pillion has not been a priority—which is a good thing for Eren because you don’t have other options left but to have your front all squeezed against his spine to fit in.

“Umm…” Eren swallows and he swallows hard. You’re wearing his leather jacket above your clothes and yet he can still feel the way your breasts—oh my God, they’re so soft—are pressed against his back. Maintaining his eyes on the road, he tries to focus on his surroundings as best as he can. “I-it’s okay.”

“Are you sure you’re not cold? You can take back your jacket if you want. I can just use mine.”

“No, it’s fine. Yours is too thin.” He refrains himself from sniffling because damn it, it is cold. He should’ve thought of bringing a spare jacket for you, but no, of course, being the idiot that he was, he didn’t. “Don’t worry about it. My house isn’t far from here.”

“Okay.” Despite his reassurance, you still have your eyebrows knitted in concern as you can still feel him shivering from the cold. As a way to warm him up—which is only an excuse for you to touch him even more, and to continue with your diabolical plan—you embrace him from behind, tightening your arms around him just a little bit harder. 

Fuck, Eren thinks, face flushed. You’re plastered against him like a conjoined twin and he can feel your warmth seeping through his shirt. It’s a wonder that he’s still able to maintain his grip on his vehicle. “W-what are you doing?”

“Umm… Making you feel warm?” You reply sheepishly which drives him insane. You’re already so beautiful and sexy in his head, now you get to be so innocently adorable too?

Eren only responds with a little "Oh..." because that’s the only thing his pea-brain can manage to form with all this blood rushing to his head. God, you wish you could steal a glimpse of his face. What kind of expression does he have right now? He must look so cute.

He’s dying, that’s how he looks. Probably about to combust into flames too. Why are they so sooooft, Eren wants to whine, feeling your chest pushed up against his back even more. Is this the kind of sweet torture people talk about? The kind that makes you feel like you’re both in heaven and hell at the same time? It certainly feels like one. 

“Sorry, Ren…” Noticing the way his body is tensing, you loosen up your hold. “Am I making you feel uncomfortable?” 

“No!” Eren takes off his left hand from the steering wheel and snatches yours back before you can retrieve it. He keeps it in place, pressing your splayed fingers tight against his stomach until you can feel the shape of his abdomens underneath the thin layer of his white shirt.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” he says, his voice subdued by the wind. You fail to notice the way he stutters his words. “Hold on tight so you won’t fall."

When he’s only driving twenty miles per hour because of traffic ahead, even if you did fall, you would only get a scratch on your palm at most but neither of you cares. You both know it’s just an excuse anyway. "Okay."

"And also, uhh…” Eren is glad he has his helmet on to conceal his face. “It’s… warm. You, I mean. You're so warm.”

“I'm glad I am,” you giggle, winding your arm around him again, even going as far as resting your chin on his shoulder. Feeling a bit naughty, you lower your pitch, seduction ringing in his ears. “Kinda wish we were alone in your room right now,” you purr, your fingers hovering dangerously close above the hem of his jeans. “I know something else we can do to warm you up.”

That’s it. That’s the final string. Eren’s concentration breaks and he’s easily startled by the car driving past him on his right. Veering his vehicle immediately to the side, he nearly collides with the motorcycle on his left. 

“WATCH IT, JACKASS!”

“Sorry,” Eren mutters in chagrin, while you’re cackling like a witch behind him. From his bar-end mirror, you can see how he childishly pouts at your laughter. “Why are you laughing—that wasn’t funny!”

“It was a bit funny,” you sneer. “You panicked like a girl.”

“Well, you were saying some nasty things to me!”

“What nasty things?” 

“Y-you said you were going to do something else to warm me up.” 

“Yes, I was speaking about making some hot chocolate for you. What were you thinking about?”

He opens his mouth, closes it, and repeats these two actions three times more before he gives up and grouses, “Oh, shut up.” Eren spends the rest of his drive pretending to be upset about it, even when you can tell he’s having the hardest time masking his smile. He can’t do it for long since your giggle is infectious. 

“You seem happy,” he comments, mirroring the joy on your face. 

“That’s because I am,” you reply, snuggling close. “I feel like I’m the happiest when I’m with you.”

Oh, for fuck's sake. “Don’t make me crash our bike into another car, I swear to God—” 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!”

When the laughter has receded, Eren shares stories about Dina and Zeke, the two family members he loves dearly—well, he loves Dina, Zeke can go to hell (affectionately)—and how they are very excited to meet you today. But the second you arrive at his house, no one comes to answer the door.

“Weird,” Eren mutters as he walks past the entrance, dropping the keys on the counter. “I thought they’d be—” He stops short when he notices a piece of paper lying on the coffee table. With a frown, he picks it up and runs his eyes across Dina’s neat handwriting.

Zeke and I are going shopping to give you kids some time alone. We’ll eat outside too so we won’t be back until nine. Remember to use protection ;) - Love, Dina.

Eren, too busy trying to understand what the fuck is going on, doesn’t notice the way you’re standing on your toes, trying to steal a peek at the paper from behind his shoulder. Unlike him who needs a whole minute to process her words, it only takes two seconds for you to finish reading the whole thing. 

Eren shrieks at your presence, crumples the paper with both hands, tosses it inside the trash bin, and hopes the whole thing gets swallowed by hellfire. “You—You didn’t read that, did you?” It feels like he has his heart throbbing in his throat.

“Read what?” You play dumb, even tilting your head to the side for a cute, dramatic effect.

“Nothing,” he says, and when you arch your eyebrow at him, he spins you around, placing both hands on your shoulder as he guides you down the hallway. “Let’s just go to my room. Go, go, go, go, go.”

“Wait.” You stop him with one hand in the air, putting on your best solemn face. “Have you brought protection with you?”

“OH MY GOD, GO!”

***

Things aren’t going as smoothly as Eren had planned. Actually, nothing went as planned. For all he knew, all he had been doing was just turning red like a fucking tomato for the whole two hours he had spent with you, and you teasing the shit out of him. And it doesn’t seem like you’re going to stop anytime soon!

Is she planning to kill me? He sighs as he opens the door that leads to his bedroom, welcoming you in. She wasn’t like this yesterday. Now, don’t get him wrong. Eren loves how aggressive you’re being—he hasn’t unlocked his kink yet, but he’s secretly a sub who longs to be dominated by his women, both in bed and in real life—but with how smooth you’re going right now, constantly flirting with him as if it would kill you if you didn’t make him blush every ten minutes, this is getting so bad for his heart.

And it doesn’t help that he’s now alone with you in an empty house for the next—he takes a glimpse at his phone screen to check on the time—three hours and twelve minutes. His thoughts are going insane. From Dina’s message to the image of you in your skin-tight leotard, and of course, the way you embraced him on the ride home too. You’ve been giving him signs that you like him. You’re more honest and blatant compared to how you behaved during your date, and as much as he is certain that Spider-Girl is the woman he’s in love with, he can’t deny that he has feelings for you too. And the way you’re looking at him right now, sitting on the edge of his bed in your cute little red dress and your cute little matching headband with your smile never faltering away from your lips—everything about you right now is so… titillating.

“You’re such a dirty boy,” you smirk.

Eren nearly collapses. “W-what?” What the hell is happening? She can hear my thoughts now? WHAT IS GOING ON?! “What do you—I’m not—I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I said you’re a dirty boy.” Your salacious smirk turns into a mischievous grin. “As in your room is a mess.”

“Oh!” He laughs once in relief, his hand coming up to wipe cold sweat off his forehead. “Oh, you were talking about my room, thank God.” Wait. He panics again, eyes moving back and forth from one corner to another, scanning his room. He’s sure that he’s cleaned up everything he could this morning, and by cleaning up, he means picking everything off the floor, jamming them inside his closet, and pretending that they don’t exist. Everything seems to be in order. There are no clutters on his computer desk. No laundry on the floor. Sure, the books on his shelf are in disarray, but at least they’re not too dusty. “It looks clean to me, though.”

“On the outside, sure,” you titter. “But your wardrobe looks like it’s seconds away from exploding. I don’t need to take a peek inside to know that you have dirty clothes and questionable things stored there.”

“I don’t have… q-questionable things,” Eren says very unconvincingly. Poor boy can’t lie to save his life. Unable to stand the way you narrow your eyes suspiciously at him, he sighs in defeat, “Well, it depends on how you define questionable.”

“Playboy magazines?”

“Nope.” Why should I buy one when I can just see naked girls for free on PornHub?

“Erotic novels?”

“No.” Ha ha, too bad. You were close, though, cause instead of erotic novels, I read—

“Erotic mangas, then?”

Fuck. “N-no,” he coughs out.

You wait for him, watching him with the nastiest grin you could muster until he gives up on his lies. “All right, all right, you got me,” Eren says, rolling his eyes. “I have some hentai mangas hidden in my closet. Happy now?”

“Immensely,” you chirp back and whatever it is you’re doing, it’s working well because Eren feels like he can breathe properly again. 

Now that the tension isn’t as suffocating, you both settle down on the carpeted floor, your backside leaning against the side rail of his bed. You have your textbook perched on your lap, a pen between your fingers as you teach him about univariate and bivariate transformations. Eren wears a pair of eyeglasses when he studies, and you hate whoever invented those black frames for making him look more attractive than he already is as if his little man-bun wasn’t strong enough to emphasize that. 

An hour passes by in a flash and Eren asks for a ten-minute break. You follow him to the kitchen, watching him make two cups of hot chocolate while casually throwing back some of your earlier teasings. It feels so domestic—the playful banter you throw, the way you share smiles and giggles while you both sit on the kitchen aisle with your legs dangling in the air. And while you secretly fantasize about spending every morning with him like this, Eren is constantly reminded of the time he spent with Spider-Girl.

Why does this feel so familiar? He ponders. Is your personality similar to hers? Is it the way you talk? Or is it because he unconsciously starts projecting Spider-Girl on you? Because he can’t stop thinking about her even when he’s trying his best to focus on you today? He grows restless at the thoughts. Because if that’s the case, then what’s the point of doing this? It’s clear that he’s still searching for Spider-Girl everywhere he goes. Even when he’s seeing you, he still thinks about her. He was sure he managed to forget about her earlier today, but the more he grows comfortable with you, and the more you show your true personality to him, the more he sees Spider-Girl in you.

When you return to his bedroom with him trailing after you, you notice a little box sliding out of his bag. Eren follows your gaze, mumbling, “Oh, shit, I forgot,” under his breath before he snatches it away. “I bought something for you earlier today,” he says, taking a seat on the edge of his bed with you settling down right next to him. “I wanted to give this to you back when we were at the studio but…” He smiles a little bit sheepishly as he hands it over to you. “I got, uhh… distracted.”

The way he said his words, it was clear that you were his distraction. “Thank you,” you reply, your fingers playing with the little red bow that ties the package together. “You’re always so thoughtful. I wanted to give you something too, actually, but I couldn’t get it done on time. It’s going to take a little while before I can finish it.”

“Oh?” His whole face brightens at once, seemingly giddy at the thought, as it would be the first time he’ll receive a handmade gift from the opposite sex. “You’re making something for me?”

“Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a surprise.” Your coquettish smile quickly becomes one of his favorite things in the world. “For now,” you land a hand on his shoulder, leaning up to brush your lips lightly against his cheek. The kiss is light and chaste, and yet, Eren turns rigid, his heartbeat roaring in his ears. You break away with a bashful smile painting your lips. “I hope that’s okay?”

“Umm…” He mumbles out, unfocused. “Yeah…”

The moment is there. The same atmosphere, the same tension that you felt when you were about to part ways at the end of your date has returned, ten times thicker than before. You maintain your gaze on his face, while Eren learns the texture of your lips with his eyes. They seem so soft, so inviting and he wants it. He wants to know how it would feel like to have your mouths pressed against one another but at the same time…

He’s conflicted again, you think to yourself, and if you’re not careful, your devilish smirk will rise to the surface again. It’s such a fun game watching him like this. You can almost literally see the way he’s battling against himself. On one side, he wants to kiss the bejeezus out of you, while on the other hand, he wants to push you away and say, “Girl, you’re making my jeans tighter than ever but this heart only belongs to one woman, and as long as you’re not dressed in white spandex, you’re not her.”

The evil that you are, you plan to make it even more interesting. “Kiss me.”

Somewhere at the back of his head, a nuclear bomb explodes, killing half of his brain cells at once. “W-what?” Eren croaks out, sounding like he hasn’t spoken in years. 

You lean closer, your breath fanning his lips. God, your perfume, the scent of your breath—you smell so fucking wonderful. Sliding a hand up his chest, fingers gliding smoothly against the fabric of his shirt, you whisper again, “I want you to kiss me, Ren.”

“I—mmph—” His eyes close in reflex the moment your lips touch his, his eyebrows sewn together in the middle. You frame his cheek, bringing him closer to you than ever. For a moment, he succumbs, his fingers fisting the sheets underneath him. You press your body against him, and he wonders if you can feel his heartbeat reverberating on your skin. He lets out this cute little whine when he feels you parting his lips with yours, but the second he feels the tip of your tongue touching his, his body flinches and Eren breaks away.

“S-sorry.” He stands up abruptly from the bed, one hand shooting up to cover the bottom half of his face. His blush creeps up from his neck to the tip of his ears. He seems breathless, panicking out of his mind.

Your lips are just itching to exhibit a wicked grin but you pretend to be confused. “Is there something wrong?”

“I—I can’t—” He’s looking anywhere but your face, jittery hands moving animatedly as he speaks. “You and me—we can’t—I can’t do this with you—Not right now—Not when I’m—I can’t, I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Poor Rennie looks like he’s having a heart attack. “You can’t?” You’ve never taken any acting classes before, but you’re sure as hell this performance you’re doing right now deserves an Oscar's Best Actress nomination. Guess binging Euphoria all weekend has some perks after all. “But…” You perceive him with glassy doe eyes. “I thought you liked me…”

“I did!” He shouts out the words like it physically pains him to say them out loud. He’s losing his mind and it’s hilarious. “I did…” Eren goes down to his knees before you, his hands reaching out to take yours before he settles them on your lap. They’re sweating, and so cold. “I really liked you but…”

You start to feel bad but the sadistic villain inside you wants to see more so you just fake a sob. “But now… You don’t like me anymore…”

“Oh, God.” You, brushing your nonexistent tears with your fingers right now, are his kryptonite. “Please don't cry. No—no, it’s not like that! I like you!” he shouts, his eyes shaking as he peers into yours. “Jesus, I think I even loved you at some point and maybe I still do, I don’t know—I don’t understand my feelings right now, I just—”

“It's okay,” you say, trying to calm him down. You're a bit worried now because if this guy ends up passing out, that’s going to be your fault. “It’s all right, Ren… I know what you’re saying…”

He pauses to take a deep breath. When he speaks again, he no longer sounds as squeaky as before. “Listen to me,” he squeezes your hand, and even if his fingers are still trembling, they’re doing their best to comfort you. “I really, really do like you. Honestly? I was so obsessed with you before. I stalked you like a pervert. I took pictures of you when you weren’t looking. I've had your photo as my wallpaper for God knows how long. My video journals—”

Are all about me, you echo the words in your head as he speaks the same thing. Oh my God, he’s freaking out so bad, he’s telling every bit of his secret now. So cute. 

“I did all those things because I liked you and you should hate me for it—”

“I’ll never hate you, Ren. I want to be with you.”

You’re killing him. You can tell you’re killing him inside. “And you don’t know how much those words mean to me but the truth is, I’m—” He hesitates, still contemplating whether he should say the words out loud. He doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, but if he continues doing this, letting his desire overtake him once again, he’s only going to hurt you even more. He needs to make a decision. “I’m in love with someone else.”

You fake a gasp, even going as far as covering your mouth with both hands. “Y-you are?”

“Yes…” He answers in dismay. “I know maybe I should give myself some time to figure this out but I don’t want to be selfish. I don’t want to make you wait for me. I don’t want to make you feel confused. And I know it would be easier to love you instead of her—I don’t even know how she feels about me but… I can’t. I can’t deny that I’m in love with her. And it’s not fair if I keep doing this with you when I keep thinking about someone else. I don’t want to be that kind of person.”

He’s kind. Eren is always kind. He could’ve just dated you both if he wanted to, but he didn’t. “I see,” you solemnly respond. “Can you… tell me who you’re in love with?”

He nibbles on his lip, looking down when he says, “S-Spider-Girl.”

FUCK, YES! In your mind, you’re punching the air in triumph with Cardi B and DJ Khaleed throwing a party in the background, celebrating your victory. But if you take a look at the situation, how fucking ridiculous is this? Imagine if Spider-Girl wasn’t your alter ego. It would be like you confessing to that delusional nerd Armin, only to be rejected by him saying he’s in love with a random cosplayer whose real name he didn’t even know. Well, with Armin, it’s still a plausible thought. Ridiculous, sure, but plausible.

“I see…” You land a hand above your heart, pretending like it’s breaking when you’re really trying your best not to cackle like a madman. “Oh, gosh… I don’t know what to say… This is such shocking news to me.”

Colors drain from his face. “I’m sorry.” He looks like he’s the one who’s having his heart shredded apart. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. I’m sorry for leading you on. I should’ve told you last night. You are such an attractive woman. You’re beautiful. You’re brilliant and you’re so kind and—”

Oh my God, he’s consoling me now. It’s getting harder and harder not to guffaw at his face. "Ren—"

“—I’m sure there are a lot of guys out there who would love to date you,” Eren says, his eyes drooping in sadness. “And I know this is a selfish thought but I hope we can… still be friends?”

God, you better be grateful I’m Spider-Girl ‘cause this feels like a terrible break-up movie and I’m livid. “We can,” you nod. “But only if you do something for me.”

Eren blinks, his eyes turning hopeful. “Yes, anything. Anything you want, I’ll do it.”

“Okay, then, sit down on the floor.” With a confused frown, he follows without a word. “Lean back.” You give two light taps on the railing of his bed and he rests his backside against it. “Good, now close your eyes. Don’t open them until I say so.”

“Umm… Okay…” 

“Promise me that.”

“I promise.” His furrow turns deeper when he senses you crawling up his bed. You position yourself behind him, lying down on your stomach with your elbows propping the upper part of your body. 

You lean close, whispering breathily in his ear, imitating the words he once said to you on the night he kissed you. “Can I try something I’ve never done before?”

He shivers. The way your voice echoes through his mind sends his mind reeling. “Y-yes…” It sounds more like a question and you almost laugh. He’s beyond nervous. 

Your hand slithers down his cheek before you hook your fingers on the underside of his jaw. You lift his face. His gaze would’ve lingered on the ceiling if he had his eyes opened but Eren keeps them pressed shut. Your touch feels burning on his skin. “W-what are you doing?” he stutters out as you take off his glasses.

“Telling you my biggest secret,” you murmur, leaning closer until you have your face hovering above his. He can almost feel your every word on his skin. “Do you trust me?”

“I—” He noticeably gulps. “I do.”

With an elfin smile, you lower your head. Eren softly gasps when your lips are connected. You’re kissing him upside-down, similar to the kiss he shared with Spider-Girl. You try to replicate the way he kissed you that night, starting out slow, giving him a light, innocent kiss. There’s no pressure on your lips, nothing to distract him away from how soft they feel against his. This is that kiss—your first kiss together.

And Eren remembers it. His body, his lips, his heart remember it.

A few seconds are spent with Eren holding his breath and when you pull away, whispering, “Look at me,” he slowly opens his eyes but they stay half-lidded, completely dazed. 

You stroke his cheek, your smile is an everlasting beauty. 

“I’m in love with you too, Rennie.” 

Your confession certainly comes as a shock, but it’s not as much as the way you called his name. Eren has his heartbeat ringing clamorously in his ears, his eyes widening at the pet name you gave him back when you were nine-year-old. His flashback hits him at once and it strikes him like thunder. He has never told anyone else about the little girl he met in the hospital except for Spider-Girl, and even then, he didn’t tell you that she used to call him Rennie. So how the fuck can you tell? 

Eren turns around, almost knocking his head against the railing as he does. “Wait—” He rises to his feet, both hands stretched out forward. He is mortified beyond belief. So embarrassed, that he wishes he can light himself on fire so he doesn’t have to deal with whatever the fuck that’s going on. This can’t be—she can’t be—

He catches you grinning at him no matter how much you try to hold yourself back. “Calm down, Rennie.”

“No, don’t call—” Oh my God, I can’t breathe—This isn’t happening right now—She—

You’re laughing—great, now you’re laughing—interrupting his thoughts and sending him even further down this endless hole of shame. “So, I’m your first love, huh? Been crushing on me ever since we were nine? Damn, didn’t know you were such a simp for me, Tarantula Boy.”

“No. No, no, no, no, no.” He only has one color on his face: red. “You can’t do this to me—”

“And you jerked off to my pictures?” You playfully scold him, stepping down from the bed and making your way to his spot. “Can’t say I’m pleased with that. Also, I can’t believe you kissed me right after our date ended. Not to mention, I had to save your ass again—”

Fuck, I can’t do this. Eren spins on his heels, literally trying to run away in shame as his brain turns into mush. He has one hand around the doorknob, ready to run and jump off the nearest bridge when you stretch out your arm and shoot out your web. Snaring him by his wrist, you pull him back toward you with a hard yank. With a startled yelp, Eren tumbles back, his body nearly crashes against yours but you catch him just in time. You flick the web off your wrist and tangle your arms around his neck. 

Standing on your toes, you press your body against his, meshing your lips together and laughing against his mouth in response to the muffled sounds of his protest. “Kill me,” he sighs against your mouth, followed by a strangled moan when you part your lips just to close them around his bottom one. “Just kill me now, please.”

“You sure about that?” You tease him, one hand sliding down his chest. “Cause I’d rather do something else if you ask me.” You nip on his lip, not being as gentle as before. 

Groaning in defeat, Eren frames your face with both hands. He decides to take control of the kiss as a way to make you feel just as flustered as he is now. He’s still awkward, his teeth almost knocking against yours but when his tongue slides inside, he manages to steal a gasp out of your mouth. 

You lean your entire weight on him, clawing against his chest as he winds his arm around your waist. “Easy, Tarantula Boy,” you giggle, still sounding mischievous albeit a little breathless.

“You’re evil.” Eren moves his lips to your jaw before he settles his head in the crook of your neck. “I can’t believe you played me like this. Is this the reason why you were being so aggressive today?”

“I’m sorry.” Your small laughter morphs into soft moans as his tongue slithers against yours again. Your fingers slip between his strands, your eyes closed in pleasure as you face the ceiling, giving him more access to nibble on the supple skin of your neck. “I didn’t mean to go this far, actually. I just wanted to tease you a little bit but—” Your sentence ends abruptly in a gasp when he seizes you by your waist and throws you down to the bed. His strength surprises you but the way he handles you so easily, losing almost all the tenderness in his touch, lights your stomach on fire. He crawls on top of you, pinning your hand down against the sheets before he smashes your lips together again. The sudden change in his attitude baffles you but you're quick to display your smirk again. “My, my, look who’s being so aggressive now.”

“Shut up,” he replies, face aflame, robbing you of the ability to speak. Eren kisses you deeply, almost frantically, demanding, plundering your mouth with his own, and you understand why. He doesn’t use his passion to cover his embarrassment, not like what you thought he was doing. He’s kissing you like this, like he owns you and you own him, because he’s been in love with three different people all this time, and all of them are now in his arms, in the shape of you. And, God, you are beautiful.

“Calm down,” you remind him again, sliding your fingers up and down his spine, effectively slowing down his pace. His bun is a mess, his strands falling all over the place, all designed by your eager hands. You play with the baby hair on his nape when he pulls away, your smile is too delicate to be real. “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to rush.”

His heart hammers inside his chest and it’s beating so fast, it’s frightening, but Eren loves it. He’s always felt this way when he was with you—with any version of you—but now that he knows you’re all of them, his heart beats three times faster. “I don’t think I can do it.” He keeps his face close enough for the tip of your nose to brush against his when he whispers, “I’ve been in love with the same girl for twelve years and now you’re right here and I’m… I’m going insane.”

He’s adorable. So adorable. “Well then, maybe I feel the same way…” You untangle his hair tie with one hand, pushing back his hair behind his ear before you caress his cheek. “‘Cause I’m sure I’ve been in love with the same boy for twelve years too.”

He melts in your arms, weak with the surge of joy that suffuses his body. “It’s hard to believe that you’re Spider-Girl,” he breathes out, resting his temple above yours, closing his lids. He seems so blissful, so relieved at the revelation. “But at the same time, it feels so right. This is the perfect moment of my life, I feel like I’m gonna die.”

“Don’t die just yet,” you titter. “You haven’t loved me enough yet.”

He breaks away with a peal of laughter flowing past his lips. “I’m already going insane because of you and you still want me to love you harder than this?”

“If you can.”

“So demanding.” He jokingly rolls his eyes. “That little boy in the hospital.” He twines his fingers around your wrist, bringing your hand closer to his face. He speaks his next words with his lips brushing against the lines of your palm. “Have you always known it was me?”

“No…” You’re entranced, eyes turning a bit hazy at the way his long eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. He peppers soft kisses on your skin down to the veins that paint your inner wrist. “I only realized it was you when you told me that story.”

“That night on the rooftop?” His pout returns. “You should’ve told me then.”

“Well, yes, but then I wouldn’t get to have this much fun.” You toss him your signature Cheshire Cat grin. Eren throws you a playful snort before he dives back to taste your lips again. “Plus, I was too… embarrassed to say a word back then. I’ve always thought you looked familiar but I had no idea that you were that boy.” You hug him close, breathing right against his ear. “You grew up so handsomely, Rennie….”

He’s buzzing with joy, every part of him is. “You’re really trying to kill me right now, aren’t you?” Eren tickles your side, making you laugh hard enough for his neighbors to hear. He takes in everything, the crinkles in your eyes, the way you have your mouth opened wide, and that adorable laughter you emit–he loves it all. “This is how I always imagined you to look underneath that mask when you laughed,” he confesses, settling himself between your legs. 

You play with his necklace, fingers hooking around his silver chain. “Are you disappointed that I’m not as feminine as I usually behave on campus?”

“Are you kidding? I love you more like this.” Your heart thrashes wildly, no matter how hard you tell it to stay put. Eren props his elbows on the bed, trapping you between his arms. He gently swats the bangs out of your eyes, taking his time to examine your every feature, using the chance to commit every part of you into memory. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on but it’s Spider-Girl whom I’m in love with, and I never cared about her looks. I care about the way she comforts me with her words.” He presses a gentle kiss on the center of your temple, stunning you with intimacy. “I care about the way she cares about me.” He drags his lips to your cheek, lips as light as feathers. “How she gets upset on my behalf when I blame myself for something that isn’t my fault.”

“Yeah, you do that a lot, it’s annoying,” you giggle and you can feel his smile growing on your skin. “What else do you care about?”

“I care about the way she uses sarcasm as her weapon.” His lips are now closing around your earlobe, letting you know the shape of his smirk as he speaks. "And how she gets snarkier when she's embarrassed, not knowing what to do when she receives a compliment."

You flinch, a little bit sensitive in that area. Especially when he sounds breathier like this, huskier as if he just woke up from his dream. “I thought I was irritating.” 

“Sometimes, sure.” But in his next lines, he abandons all the mirth in his voice, and he speaks sincerely from the bottom of his heart. “I'm kidding. I just find you endearing. I care about how you always pretend to be strong when you’re actually scared.” He grants a soft kiss on your nose, breaking away to look you in the eyes as he strokes your hair. “I care about how you seem like you don’t need anybody else in your life, when the truth is, you’re always searching for someone to be there for you. Just like everyone else, you’re scared of being alone.”

Your gaze softens, your stomach somersaulting at his words. “I can never lie to you, can I?” Your voice is not louder than a whisper, your lips only a breath away. “Ever since we were kids, you always knew what to say to me. You understood me more than anyone else.” It’s such a wonderful feeling to be with someone you can truly open yourself to. No secrets. No lies. No sweet nothings. No boundaries. “I wish we had never grown apart during those years. I would’ve loved to spend every moment with you. Growing up together. Being your best friend and making out with you on our school’s rooftop during lunch breaks.” You brush two of your fingertips against his lips, tracing the pretty shape of his mouth as he chuckles. “Maybe I could even give you that radioactive spider that bit me so you could be my sidekick and we could fight crimes together.”

“Your sidekick?”

“It’s kind of a package deal. Plus, I have better social skills. You're not ready to be a superhero, trust me."

"And why not?"

"'Cause even if you were able to kick some ass, you’d never win against your true enemy.”

“Which is?”

“The press. And Tony Stark ‘cause he’d just bully you like crazy without me.”

He just can’t seem to stop grinning when he’s with you. “Well, it’s not too late to start. I'm sure there's some radioactive spiders somewhere.” He gently bites on the tip, rolling your finger between his teeth. “Can you find me a tarantula, though? Spiders are a little bit overrated.”

“Of course, baby. Whatever you want.” 

Eren smiles, bestowing another kiss and letting himself drown in your taste for a minute before he pulls away with a pout. “You said you could never lie to me,” he mutters. “But you’ve been lying to me about your identity for three months.”

“Oh my God,” you groan, throwing your head back. “Stop being so butthurt about it. I said I’m sorry.”

He chortles, gathering your face in his hand again. “You’re so annoying.” He pecks your lips. “But I love you.”

“You’re such an idiot.” You pull him for another kiss, separating your lips to welcome him inside. “But I love you.”

Your kisses seem never-ending, and none of you complains about it. It’s so addicting, so exciting to have his taste lingering in your mouth, to feel the flick of his tongue against yours. Eren may be an inexperienced kisser, but he learns fast. By the time he regains confidence, it’s easy for him to steal your breath away, leaving you all dazed and needy for more.

You have your body squeezed against his, your heels hooked behind his waist, but you’re left feeling unsatisfied as you still have layers of clothing separating your skin from his. “Can I do something I’ve never done before?” you ask him with a cheeky grin.

Eren, who was suckling on your neck a second ago, elevates his face just to give you a flat stare. “Can you stop embarrassing me for one second?” 

“What, I can’t speak English now?”

“You’re using my words!”

“Since when are those words your words—It’s basic English!” Laughing, you roll him to his back, position yourself above his lap and watch him gulp in anticipation. With a naughty smirk, you slip your hand underneath his shirt, your fingers tracing the ridges of his abdomens before you bunch up the fabric in one hand and push it up to his chest. “Wow…” The word accidentally slips out of your mouth as you stare shamelessly at him. “Jesus, when the heck did you work out?”

“S-shut up.” He pushes down his shirt, hiding as much skin as he can from your hungry eyes while blushing like the virgin that he is.

Well, actually, you’re a virgin too, but at least, you act like a pro. “Why are you covering—let me see your abs!”

“No!”

“Wha—” You’re trying to pry his hands away. He’s pretty strong, and you don’t want to use your superhuman strength to pin him down just so you can marvel at his stomach (you won’t stoop that low).

“Stop trying to undress me, woman!”

You know what, if he keeps fighting you back like this, you might as well tie him up with your web. “Rennie, come on, just give me a peek!” Did you sound desperate? Yes. Are you desperate? Yes, times a thousand. “I’m your girlfriend, you know!”

“You literally just became my girlfriend like seven minutes ago!” He’s struggling just as much, keeping the hem of his shirt as low as possible. “Also, being my girlfriend doesn’t mean you can do whatever you like with my body! Ask me for my consent first!”

You see, he’s right. He’s totally right, but— “Babe, I can literally feel your dick poking against my thigh right now.”

“Y-yeah, but still…” Aaaaand he's blushing. 

“Huh. Cute. Now let’s get back to the game, darling.” You grab the hem of his shirt and— 

“No, wait! I’m not mentally ready and we're—” Eren gasps loudly—almost too dramatically—in both horror and surprise when you shoot two lumps of your web, snaring his wrists and keeping them glued on the bed right on each side of his head. He turns to face you again, his jaw dropping low when he speaks, “Did you just use your web on me?”

You did. Holy shit, you did. What happened to not stooping that low? “I-I’m sorry.”

“Just to see my abs.”

You palm your face, your cheeks blazing hot. “I’ll let you out—”

“You know Peter Parker wouldn’t do this to MJ, right?”

You sigh. You kinda wish you were bitten by a radioactive bunny so you could dig really fast and bury your whole existence inside a hole. “Well, I mean, I wouldn’t know–”

“Steve Rogers would judge you so hard right now.”

“Steve’s actually a kinky bitch. I’m sure he likes it. Look, just calm down,” you tell him, settling yourself on his lap while trying your best to ignore the way his cock is twitching in his pants at the sensation of your weight pressing against him. “I won’t do anything to you without your permission, all right? I'll act like a gentleman. A gentlewoman, if you must.”

“Oh, am I your lady now?”

“You’re acting like one right now, aren’t you?”

“Oh, shut up.” He yanks on his wrist, trying to break free but your web is unyielding. “Can you get this off of me? This looks ridiculous!”

No, it doesn’t. This looks kinky as fuck. Never have you imagined that you’d be using your superhero ability to tie up a handsome man on his own bed, but you learn something new every day, I guess. Trying not to stare so much at the way his biceps are flexing with every attempt he makes, you ask the most important question. “Are you nervous because you’re a virgin?”

“I’m not—” His face catches on fire. “I’m not nervous, I’m just—okay, yeah, I’m nervous.”

“Because you’re a virgin?”

“No,” is his first answer but then bashfully he corrects with, “Well, yeah, kinda. But I’m more nervous about the fact that you’re… not.”

“Not what?”

“A virgin.” He tucks his chin, his voice muted. “I just… I don’t want to disappoint you.” Because Eren knows that you’ve dated several popular guys on campus in the past. Porco Galliard, Colt Grice, even that notorious bad boy, Floch Forster at some point. How can he compete with that? He wants to have sex with you—God, he wants nothing more than to get his dick wet with the girl he’s been in love with for twelve years—but what if you’re not satisfied with him? What if he sucks (no pun intended)? What if he’s supposed to suck but he can’t suck properly? Like sucking on your tits, for example. What if he can’t suck them right? What if—

“I’m a virgin, though,” you say.

“Okay, you can do whatever you want with me. I’m ready.” 

That’s it. That’s all it takes for you to get his consent. The next thing you know, Eren has his shirt bunched up around his chest, your fingers splayed and pressed flat against his stomach. “Damn,” you murmur under your breath, eyes transfixed on the way his muscles tighten underneath your palm. “If I had known you looked like this underneath that hoodie, I wouldn’t have wasted all these months keeping my identity a secret.”

His blush blossoms fast on his face, flinching when he feels your fingertips tracing the dip of his V-line. “I—I thought you were trying to keep your identity a secret to protect me.”

“Well, yeah, that too, but—” You brush your pads against his navel, feeling the little happy trail that disappears behind his jeans. He lets out this little sound, like a mix between a yelp, a whimper, and a moan, and it’s so fucking cute. “I think I’d be okay with you getting kidnapped once a week if I get to do this every day.”

“It feels so weird to have a hot girl talking about me like this, but okay.” Eren, despite how bizarre this conversation is getting, still has his focus on how to break himself free from your webbing. “Can you do something about this, please? It feels sticky on my skin.”

“No.”

“What do you mean 'no?' I can’t touch you if I’m like this!”

“Yes, that is the point, now shut up.” To Eren’s surprise, you casually yank your dress over your head, tossing it haphazardly on the floor and leaving you only in nice lacy lingerie that matches the shade of your lipstick.

“Fuck me,” he mutters under his breath, his gaze quickly shifting down to your chest. He gulps at the sight. “B-badonkers…”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, your tits—your breasts!” He stammers. “They’re—they’re perfect. Like, the shape of them and how they look so… so soft and…” He clears his throat, realizing just how much lame he’s being. “You know, like a really nice pair of natural, fully functional breasts.”

You scrunch up your nose at his words. “Are you going to be like this the whole time?” You reach one hand behind your back, unclasping your bra.

“I… hope not…” He’s staring with unblinking eyes, practically salivating at the sight of your breasts bouncing once as you position yourself better on his lap. Fuck, they really are perfect. “A-are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“You mean sex? No.” You lean forward, crawling up his body until you have your face hovering above his again. “Why?”

“You just seem awfully calm and—” You leave him speechless for a good few seconds when you press your breasts against his chest. Eren whines, closing his eyes as he throws his head against the bed. “Fuck.” 

Your lips twitch up into a smirk. “Soft, aren’t they?”

“Like fucking marshmallows.” He dreamily sighs—almost sobbing, really. “Can I have your tits in my mouth, please?”

Perhaps sometime in the future, when you look back into this scene again, you’ll have the biggest cringe moment in your life because what the fuck is he asking but right now, everything just seems so hot, you don’t even care. “Yeah, but maybe later once I’m done with you.” You reward him with a kiss to distract him, stifling his protest. “To tell you the truth, I’ve gone to second base before but I’ve… never gone past that.”

“Oh… Why not?”

“Just didn’t feel like it was the right thing to do at that time,” you answer with a shrug. “I almost did it with Porco but… It felt like I was missing something so I stopped him at the last minute.”

There’s jealousy burning inside him, but the revelation also provides him some relief. “I see…”

You can sense it, the tiny hint of fury raging in his chest and you nuzzle the tip of your nose against his to soothe him down. “Are you jealous?”

“No.” 

He is. He so is. “Would you like it if I said I was waiting for the right person?” You slide down one finger from the middle of his chest to the dip of his belly button. “Waiting for you?”

“N-no.”

He would. He so would. “You’re cute.”

“Stop calling me cute—ah!” A moan is snatched away from the back of his throat the second you grind your hips against him. Even the slightest friction drives him insane and now he has you rubbing your clothed heat against his bulge. “Fuck, baby, that feels good.”

You recall the way he called you by that pet name on that night you shared your first kiss with him, and as pleasant as it was in your ears, this one feels a million times better. It’s laced with urgency, desperation, and need. “Can I take off your jeans?” You ask him, even when your fingers are already playing with his zipper. 

“Are you going to ask me questions the whole time?”

“You said you wanted me to ask for your consent.”

“Yeah, fuck that. Do whatever you want with me. I’m yours.”

You almost laugh. “Well then, don’t mind if I do,” you say, a moment before your lips meet in a frenzied kiss. Eren arches his back, wanting to close every inch of gap between your skins until he feels like you’re completely plastered against him. He can feel your hand sliding down his stomach, toying with the button of his jeans before you push them down to his mid-thighs, along with his briefs. With a sheepish smile, you maintain eye contact as you curl your fingers gently around his shaft.

“How does it feel, Rennie?” You keep your face close, loving his expression. “Feels good?”

His chest rises and falls with rapid breaths, his face scarlet and erotic. “Feels ama—”

Right at that exact moment, Zeke Jaeger comes bursting inside his room with a phone in his hand, recording everything as he shouts, “AHA! CAUGHT YOU GUYS IN 4K! I knew you wouldn’t be studying–” He freezes at the sight of you stroking his sibling’s cock, your naked breasts practically dangling over his face, and for a second, none of you make a sound.

And then, it’s chaos.

The three of you are screaming at the same time, with you quickly grabbing the nearest pillow to cover your front, completely forgetting to throw a blanket on your poor boyfriend who’s practically buck-naked on his bed. Eren, with his wrists still glued to the sheets, can only spout out incoherent words, while his brother, who’s so horrified at the sight of Eren’s cock, spasming and leaking in desperate need of attention, can only stand still, his brain unable to function. It’s only until Eren screams, “ZEKE, GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM!” that he returns to his senses, whining out, “DINA, MY BROTHER IS FUCKING BEFORE ME!” as he runs back into the kitchen.

You hastily jump down from the bed, shutting the door and locking it up. “Use your web,” Eren says, “He has a spare key. He can still barge in anytime.”

“I think he saw us,” you utter in horror.

“Yeah.” 

“If I drop him off the building and make it look like an accident, do you think you’ll be okay with that?”

“Will I be okay with you killing my brother after seeing your boobs and catching me getting tied up to my bed and being dominated like a fucking masochist by my girlfriend?” Eren watches his cock wilting away. “Yes.”

“Well, not killing. I’m just gonna punch him hard enough to give him like a massive concussion or something.”

“No, no, no. Let’s just stick to murder. I like murder.”

***

AN: Hi, everyone! It took me a while but I finally got to finish this series. I wanted to write a small epilogue that will feature a funny scene where they get to lose their virginity to each other but since I'm pregnant with my second child now, I don't think I'll have the energy/time to do it, I'm sorry 😭😭😭 I hope you enjoyed the story despite how cringe this is (I'm never gonna do comedy again oh god what was I thinking). Anyway, thank you so much for reading! I'll see you next time!

Tagging:

@l6ffys @vivi-et @halparkebitch @fwess @littlemochi @thebeardedmoon @didiyogo @coyloves @erenbean @tehehebri @justasketch @infnteen @naiomiwinchester @spiderlingh @doyochii @ahornyenby @aengelren @sakurashell @princess-okkotsu @resonancesoul @blrqt @cacapeepee @persyhange @jaegersdiary @erentoes @trashygremlin04 @meed18 @j0livi0ni @snowflake-201 @eva-gates @claudevonstrukesblog @sofijaeger @rinsie @blanccofiie @ereninbunu @natanialora @khinjito @jaegeriess @watermelon-online @tropicsoda @damselofblueroses @alexackrman @bblgumz @jurrasicpork @erenjaegercult @holycandypizza

[plounce]

i think about ryne and thancred so much. what if your younger sister got into a car and drove away from you and got into an accident and died. and you spend years thinking of all the things you never said to her and all the times you brushed her off because you were busy and all the times you could've been there for her but wasn't (because you were younger back then - but she was so young too when she died). and then after living for years in this grief-subsumed, depressed, isolating-yourself way, you find out that surprise! she had a daughter you didn't know about! a daughter who was in a terrible situation and who you were able to sue for custody of. but now you (mentally ill wreck of an adult with freshly-reopened trauma & guilt and absolutely no childcare experience) and this teenage girl (traumatized, abused adolescent who never got to leave the house or get any outside culture or learn anything beyond the basics) are sharing a series of apartments in different cities as you hop from job to job and dodge the harassment of her previous guardian. and she looks just like your sister. and you lay awake at night from terror that you're gonna lose her just like you lost your sister. and sometimes you have good days and most times you have bad days. and because she's a traumatized teenager she internalizes the bad days. you are so scared of losing this little girl that she looks at you and mostly sees your fear and trauma that centers around her. you're not a Bad parent to her - you go without so she can have what she needs and you never complain about being hungry or tired, you take her to see as much of the world as you can because her eyes light up when she sees sonething new - you're the best parent she can ever remember having, but she's so sad and shrinking and timid and you know that it's not all just her previous guardian's fault. it's all your fault but actually it's not all your fault but actually it IS your fault. thancred you suck but i get why and so i can have multiple opinions about you. which is awesome, because i love thinking

[fudanshidoublevision]

Double Vision as a father.

Ray better kill him before Double puts his bloody claws on MC and even thinks of forming a family with them. /j

Dude, no, imagine being his CHILD, i feel sorry for anyone who has Double as some type of...paternal figure, LMFAO.

Experiencing parenthood isn't on my “to-do list”. Plus having a child, on this ECONOMY? I'm good.

Parenting is a humbling experience, my parents had taught me AND told me that. Well, that is certainly my fault because I was the devil reincarnated when I was a kid— but they still call me their little devil so not much has changed I guess. ( ͡°з ͡°)

But in this scenario...even if the circumstances aren't ideal, I believe that anyone can do their best if they really want to, it's not easy. It isn't the children's fault that their parents are so troubled. (meaning, if their progenitor is Double Vision in this case, lol)

I've discussed this with my best friend once, a long time ago and they said something about how Double will view his child as a possesion and extension of himself (and yours too, because he would only care about that kid just enough 'cause you are attached to them), i kind of agree with him. But, I mean? If Double Vision has kids with MC, wouldn't that mean he is fond with the idea of having kids? I haven't mentioned nothing about him being capable of “baby trapping” you because everyone else is disposable to him but you aren't. For all he cares, he only needs to held you tight by your throat to remember that he only needs you, he doesn't want or need someone else. In this scenario, your child was planned and wanted.

Even if you loved your child, he will be uncapable of loving them back the same way you love them but he wouldn't be uncaring, dude is deranged and a major bad influence. Mostly because of the way he is and taking in consideration the fact that his parents were emotionally and psychically absent when he needed them around, it's not an excuse considering how in this similar scenario Ray didn't had NO good-present parental figures on his whole life but wants to try his best, it just kind of explains why he acts and why would he act like that. I'm not saying that Ray would be perfect at parenting a child just a bit better than Double for sure, not gonna lie Double gives me “crazy-unstable uncle” vibes.

He is not right in the head, neither i am but hey, this is not a competition for who's more deranged, so...someone has to be the relatively-stable and emotionally available parental figure. (Meaning, YOU.)

Just sane enough to not make a mini Double 2.0. Who can be worse.

He would care...and “love” (the way he “loves you” is pretty different) his own child his very particular way. Yeah, he would be cruel and a piece of shit to you but just a tiny mean and highly authoritarian towards his child.

me if our kid ever asks me why their father fucking SUCKS at giving advice and why is it always has to end up with someone getting hurt:

"Mini-me, if you ever need adivice, you can open up to me and say whatever is bothering that little head of yours. Keeping some ugly thoughts to yourself isn't good, whatever it is, I'll never judge you and you'll never scare me off....What about your dad...? Eh, he...just isn't the best giving out advice. Some people aren't good with their words...and tend to say things that are bad, sometimes it's better to do...whatever you think is right instead of following what others may "advice” you but you can always double-check with me to know if you are doing the right thing.

Why, you ask? WELL... what about if we just...OH, what if we go out for a bit? Would you like that? I'll buy you whatever you want. ANYTHING! Just...dont tell your dad, okay..."

It's sad but it's not easy to explain to children why their mom/dad/parent acts or behaves “weird” or is incapable of doing things their other parent can do.

Oh well, i believe Double's kid wouldn't question what their dad tells them to do or say because...that's their father, they don't know any better than what their parents tell them.

Double's parental skills aren't the best; he is driven by his own emotions and he is the definition of what impulsivity means. He doesn't care much about consequences and who he might hurt to achieve what he wants and what he NEEDS. (You, again, for example. He obliterated the previous Night Crew members because of your “disappearance”. He may or may not broken someone's bones and mayyybe, just maybe! I think... he threatened some people here and there to get your location.)

I thought that maybe he would use your own child as a weapon to tame you so you'll do whatever he says. Emotional manipulation and conditioning...not even that poor kid is safe from that, Double is VERY MUCH controlling and overprotective. No matter how you behave, he stills wants you but of course, he loves a defiant behavior but he can't deny that he enjoys it when you "make things easier".

After all, parents will do anything for their children, right? Oh well, I'll be guessing that you'll do that for the sake of your child. Sorry if I'm wrong.

It doesn't really matter how that child appeared or how they were conceived and brought to you two to form a family. Those little details don't matter, you'll try your best, right? No matter what. You don't have much of an option if you are with Double, I guess. ಠಿ_ಠ

But I have the feeling that this freak will be overjoyed if the kid, shares your and his blood and genes. Just another thing to reaffirm his ownership over you. I don't think he will be capable of harming his own child, psychically, I mean. Maybe he WILL threaten you and say he'll hurt your kid when you “act feisty” so you'll give up.

Double Vision wouldn't be jealous at all of his child if they take all the attention from his most beloved possession off him because they aren't simply a bit of a threat to him and that kid is just trying to bond with you, i don't think Double would even bother to get in between of the parent of his kid and his child. Unless it is to annoy you or just be insufferable, as usual.

I like the idea that he underestimates what his child is capable of doing, lol.

For my own mental peace, i didn't added details like “what if your child had abilities?”. Because I have the feeling Double will be up to NO good with that little piece of information.

But let's just sit and think about it, either way, if your child is an ability holder or not, doesn't really matter if Daddy Double is around. Anything is possible and who is he to deny his child's wish to follow his daddy's step? Villainy, I mean, lol.

He would be overjoyed and proud his child wants to be a villain, like his parents. Well, he still is a villain and MC is not longer in the business because of Double, LMAO.

If you'd like to enter a more dangerous territory well, what if his kid wanted to become a hero? Not even an option, haha.

It's not like they have one, being a villain or just a regular citizen, no child of Double is going to become a hero on his guard. He will be very open about his distaste on the wish of his child wanting to be a hero, he might be ticked off by that.

Maybe he is usually cold-headed when he interacts with his own child, I think it's enough with him having you in edge constantly, at least he wouldn't behave or treat them the same way he treats you. Even though, there are times that his patience runs thin (when annoyed or angry, not entirely directed towards his child) and could say some concerning things that his child may take to heart.

Parents knows best, I've heard from a certain someone say before.

Now, what if that child grows? Woah, they are going through the terrifying, horrifying, traumatizing, horrible phase of adolescence! Amazing, worst years of my life! ᕕ( ՞ ᗜ ՞ )ᕗ

They are slowing growing into becoming an adult, they might realize how different everything looks when you are a bit...mature, you become more aware of what's going on around you. They will notice about how some behaviors from their parents aren't normal and not what they seemed, I'm specifically talking about Double Vision but you get it.

Maybe they will develop a rocky relationship with you but I believe that no matter what they will still love you and care for you, maybe you'll become their favorite and appreciate more the way you cared for them, who knows. Maybe they will hate you because you didn't tried enough and had to choose Double Vision as their shitty dad (I think it's for the best if they didn't know the reality of your situation 😁), they will grew and distant but who knows...?

About Double, I have the feeling that for their own sake they'll ignore his dad's existence as much as they can, Double is aware of that and doesn't care that much but I won't deny that he might be annoyed by that and oh NO! They ended up being just like you and Double is going to pick on you for that and even say that is your fault why they hate him so much.

Maybe it's for the better if your kid ended up being more like you rather than Double.

Double is an only child so i believe that he'll only want one single kid but I don't think he would be opposed of having another one but MAYBE, just maybe, no!

But there's something I believe that everyone can agree on and that's on the fact that Double looks so fucking HOT with grey hair.

And oh my FUCKING God, his gloves? You can see his tattooed sleeves and his neck? I feel like a Victorian man seeing a woman's ankles for the first time. I want to break his senile back.

Conclusion, could you have kids with Double? Absolutely, will he be a good dad? Questionable but most likely, not. I think he might be like his parents, he exists but he isn't a reliable person for his kids, it's kind of difficult to come a conclusion because he is so complex to me, my opinion on him is always ever-changing.

OH YEAH, you and your child might be the only ones besides some of your family members who probably meet him wayyyyyy before, a long time ago, that know his real name. It isn't that relevant but one of the most important things a kid has to know it's their parents name and last name, right? Not that Double's real name is going to be used as much as you might think.

I wrote this solely because I had a dream where Double Vision was my uncle and he lived on my grandparents backyard??? Sick and I just wanted to post this because I spent three days of my life writing this and then chickened out.

This post in particular wasn't proofreaded (at all) by my friends that usually encourage to post my dusty drafts.

I hope you liked it, I might add some things to this post in the future...

Anyways, Haley bae is next. Maybe even Binary Star because I think having kids with him sounds scary, if you are aware of WHY ARE YOU having kids with him on the first place (canonically speaking).

How would Double actually act if he ever had a kid: /j

I had this video on repeat playing in my head while writing this.

[lizzie-boo]

Whispers in the Shadows: Part 1

Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 671

Masterlist

A/N: I'm not sure how many chapters this will be but I have the next two written and they will be posted every few days. After that updates might slow down a bit but I have fun ideas for where this is gonna go so I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think!

As the months passed the feeling of unease was relentless. I could never place exactly what made me feel on edge but it was always something. Sometimes it felt like I wasn’t alone when I knew I was, or that the shadows hid secrets just out of reach, and more often than not the silence that filled my house was too much. 

I often found that hanging out with my new friends helped to ease the torrent of nerves. Yet, I never knew if it was because the fear I felt was all in my mind and they helped bring me back to reality or if I was just too preoccupied to notice the monsters lurking. All I knew was that I was grateful to have friends to keep me company when it all got too much. 

I pull open the door to Family Video, ready to return the movies I had rented last week. Movies were becoming my new crutch. When the silence got too loud and the shadows seemed to grow bigger I would throw on a movie and lose myself in the fictional world. 

“Welcome,” I hear a familiar voice greet me as I step in. Looking toward the counter I notice Robin and Steve wearing their matching vests. 

“Hey guys,” I greet as I place my movies down in front of them. 

“Another night home alone?” Steve asks as he checks my selections back into the system. 

“Yeah, my parents are out of town for another conference.” I let out a sigh and Robin catches my gaze. 

“Are they ever home? I swear you’re always renting movies or hanging with us so you don’t have to be alone,” Robin grumbles. 

I chew on my bottom lip for a second trying to figure out how to respond. Where they always away for work, yes, but it wasn’t their fault their adult daughter was still scared of the dark. My silly fears shouldn’t hold them back from their dream careers. 

“They just really love their jobs and they’re good at it so they are the first pick for conferences. It’s really not a big deal,” I reassure. 

Robin taps her nails against the counter before grinning up at me. “I think that once I graduate this year we should get an apartment together, then you won’t need to worry about your parents being away all the time.” 

“That might be the best idea you’ve had,” I joke before turning to browse the new movies next to the counter. 

Steve rounds the counter coming to stand next to me. He plucks the movie out of my hand before replacing it with his choice. I bump my shoulder into his before putting the movie back on the rack. 

“I was thinking that if your parents are still out of town we could hang out tonight if you want,” Steve tells me while adjusting his vest. 

“As fun as that sounds I already have plans with Nancy, we are having a girls night.” I then turn to Robin, smile widening. “You should totally come too!” 

She grins at Steve, mouthing something that I can’t quite figure out before telling me, “That sounds great.”

I finally settle on a movie for us to watch tonight and place it on the counter. I quirk a brow in Steve’s direction when he silently checks out the movie and doesn’t make a single joke about the cheesy movie I picked. 

Grabbing the movie I make my way toward the door and call out, “I’ll pick you up after your shift.” 

Robin waves to me before turning to Steve, “Should I add another tally mark to the you suck side?” The door swings shut behind me and I never get to hear Steve’s response. I add the quip to my mental list of things I need to ask Nancy about later. The never ending list of inside jokes and stories that I want to understand so I can feel like I’ve fully become part of the group.

[five-rivers]

Waking the Woods

AO3

Sequel to Rumors of the Woods of the Kingdom of Amity.

For @summerssixecho and @modordracena

Danny was sorting through the pantry, hoping to get all the misplaced poisons put back in the red cabinet before his parents came home the day after next.  More inedible substances would inevitably be stored in the pantry once they came back, but Danny would do just about anything to avoid eating another bezoar for just a little bit longer.  

Also, getting poisoned sucked, but that went without saying.  

His sister, Jazz, was gone, too, but that wasn’t unusual.  She’d gotten an invitation to study at the College of Elmerton, and of course she had to go, even if it was in another country.  

Which meant that he was the only one home when he heard the knock.  It also meant that he was so startled by it that he propelled his head into the underside of one of the pantry shelves at speed.

No one knocked on their door.  Ever.  Even the paying customers were more of the ‘let ourselves in’ type.  

Danny staggered out of the pantry, head spinning slightly.  Ow.  

The knock came again, this time taking on a decidedly frantic character.  Danny shook himself, and patted his head down.  No blood.�� Great!  He walked to the door, half convinced that he’d find someone who was both out of town and very lost, but determined to be polite.  Show people it was possible for a Fenton to have manners!  Not their fault he smacked his head into the shelf.  

He slid open the door and immediately got punched in the face.  

“Oh, gods, I’m so sorry– Where did the door go?”

“It slides,” explained Danny, clutching his face.  “Sideways.  Ow.”

“I’m really sorry, I was just knocking.  I didn’t realize–”

“I know, I know.”  Probably, the whole ‘nobody knocks’ thing was the only thing keeping this from happening much more often.  He peeled his hands away from his face and took in his visitor as well as he could, given his temporarily blurry vision.  

Dark skin, yellow cloak, vividly red hat that had to be violating at least a dozen sumptuary laws…  There was only one person Danny had ever met that dressed like that.

“Tucker?”

“Uh, yeah,” said Tucker, sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Surprise?”

“In more ways than one.”  Danny touched his face tenderly.  “Ow.”

“I am sorry.”

“It’s fine,” said Danny, deciding not to mention that he’d done much worse to himself not five minutes ago.  “Come on in.  What are you doing here, anyway?  I haven’t seen you since, uh…”  When had it been, anyway?

“Since I got apprenticed, I know.”

“Yeah!”  Tucker hadn’t been happy about it, but as his parents had said, felting was good, steady work.  People always needed cloth.  “Don’t tell me you’ve already finished your apprenticeship.”

“Uh, no.  It is sort of about that, though.”

Danny paused, halfway to the living room.  “You’re not running away, are you?”  Tucker had never seen the type, but it had been years.  

“No,” said Tucker.  “But, uh.  It’s sort of complicated.  It’ll take a little bit to explain.”

“Alright,” said Danny, continuing into the room until he could perch on the edge of his mother’s rocker.  “Go ahead.”

“Right.  So.  Every ten years or so, the weavers’ and felters’ guilds get together to negotiate with the shepherds about prices.  Tanner’s guild, too, sometimes, but not this year.  This year, my master got chosen to go.  Which meant I was at loose ends."

"So you came to visit me?" asked Danny, touched. 

"Um.  No.  Maybe I would've, but at the same time, the pages at the castle all came down with carbuncle pox–"

"Oh, yeah, I heard about that."

"So, the pagemaster asked the guilds to send apprentices to fill in for them."

"And you were sent because you were at loose ends."

"Right."

They stared silently at each other.  Just when Danny was about to prompt Tucker to continue, because that had explained nothing, the other boy exploded.  

"I was sent to give a message to the princess and she had a book out about Rangers, like the one your mom always had, and I asked her why she was looking up Rangers and she said it was for a personal project and she asked me why I could read - because apparently royalty think guild apprentices can’t read, go figure, she sounded impressed, though - and I told her that I’d always wanted to join the monastery, but money, and then, you know, she was surprised I could read, I wanted to say something impressive, not be written off, and I said I knew a Ranger family, and then she said that if I could get a Ranger to help with her project, she’d pay off my apprenticeship and recommend me to the head monk, and I said I could definitely, one hundred percent do that and you’d be happy to help.  So, uh.  Yeah.  Yeah, then I came here.  What’ve you been up to?”

Danny's jaw had dropped at some point during Tucker’s ‘explanation,’ but he gathered himself.  "The attic, I guess.  Tucker…  I'm not a Ranger."

"But your parents were."

"Not… not really."  Jazz, at least, had thought they were doing the whole Ranger thing to embarrass her.  The Fentons were alchemists by trade, if not temperament.  Rangers didn't really exist any more.

"Grandparents?"

Danny shrugged.

"Come on, Danny, you're literally my only hope."

"Why do you even want to join a monastery anyway?"

"Because that's where all the books are."

Danny rubbed his head, winced, and thought about it some more.  "This project isn't some creepy rich person thing, is it?"

"What?  No.  The princess is our age!"

"So?  I'm self‐aware enough to realize that I can be creepy about…" he trailed off, blushing furiously.  "Things."

"She's a girl!"

Danny blinked.  “So?”

Tucker stared at him.  He stared at Tucker.  

“She legitimately needs a Ranger.”

“What for?  It isn’t like there’s any magic in the woods anymore.  They’ve been mapped.”

“Apparently not,” said Tucker.  “Look, I know you haven’t seen me in a long time, and we’re not close friends anymore, but you have to at least be curious.  And you’d get to meet the princess.”

Danny sighed.  “Alright, alright.  I am curious.”  Otherwise, he wouldn’t have asked all those questions.  “Where am I supposed to go and when am I supposed to be there?”

“The princess wants us to meet her at the castle at noon.”

“Tucker,” said Danny.  

“Yes?”

“You want me to go to the castle.  At noon.  Today.  Looking like I just got beaten up.  And convince the princess, who has apparently done a lot of research, that I’m, what, an apprentice Ranger?  Is that even a thing?”

“An experienced Ranger.  I, uh, might have played you up a bit.”

“Tucker,” said Danny.  “You were wrong.”

Tucker hunched his shoulders.  “About?”

“Us not being close friends anymore.  You see, if we weren’t, I would be kicking you out right about now.”

“Noted.”

.

Danny did not run around like his hair was on fire for the next hour, although at one point he came perilously close to actually setting his hair on fire.  

An hour was not long enough to prepare for this.  For that matter, days wouldn’t be long enough to prepare for this.  He was an apprentice alchemist, barely, not a monster-hunter, not a warrior of any stripe, not a mage, not even a historian.  

But on the off chance that there was magic… or a creature or some sort…

He packed his travel kit with a few randomly chosen vials of caustics and poisons, making sure they were carefully separated from the vials and flasks carrying more benign brews.  Glues, solvents, and cleaners went in another compartment, salves and topicals in yet another, and things you were actually supposed to eat or drink in a fourth.  

He felt woefully underprepared.  

Tucker was really lucky he didn’t have any other friends, darn it.  

His eyes strayed back to the lockbox in the back of the storeroom.  He shouldn’t…  But odds were, the princess was delusional or just getting scammed.  He could put everything back before his parents got home.  And if the princess had found something magical, wouldn’t it be better to have something that could affect it?  Even if it was old and super questionable?

With a skill born from his parents always losing their keys, Danny picked the lock on the lockbox.  Within were two vials.  One was pale green, with a dark, glittery red mixture inside.  The other was coated with crackling, peeling red and contained a liquid that glowed green through the cracks.  The reason for these color choices was, Danny assumed, because one of his ancestors was a sadist of some variety.  

He checked the labels to make sure they were what he remembered.  Tincture of Sanguiflora magicidium in the green vial and mana pondalorum physick in the red vial.  He triple checked his memory of their effects against the booklet in the lockbox.  Only then did he put them in their own, separate, compartments.  

He was ready to go, and absolutely sure he was going to regret this in at least some way.  

Welp!  At least it’d be interesting.  

.

Danny had never actually been to the castle before.  His parents were… Well, even if they were the absolute best alchemists in the kingdom (a disputed title) they weren’t exactly welcome around anyone who might not want their clothes ruined.  Or their houses.  Or their health.  Even beyond the Ranger thing, they were pretty eccentric.  

The castle was impressive, he supposed.  But it was just a large building.  He wouldn’t want to be a guy attacking it, he was sure.  But looking at it from the outside got old, fast.

“So,” he said to Tucker, “noon, huh?”

“You know that’s just an estimate.  Not everyone has clocks.”

“I am absolutely convinced that the royal family has at least one clock.”

“Yeah, but do they know that you have a clock?  That’s the question.  And is your clock even right?”

Danny shrugged.  

One of the guards whistled at them, and for the first time, Danny saw his face.  

“Huh,” he said, “is that Dash?”

“Might be,” said Tucker.  

“You!  Boy!” snapped Dash, who was only a little older than they were.  “Are you Tucker Foley?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“And the-” Dash sneered, “-Ranger?”

“It’s not my day job.”  Or any kind of job.  Actually, was he getting paid for this?  As much as he’d like to live off air and pleasant thoughts, he did have other needs.  At this point, though, it seemed too late to ask.  

“You’re expected.  Follow me.”

Wow.  Danny didn’t know that Dash knew any words as long as ‘expected.’  Shocking.  Maybe being around all these high-class people was starting to rub off on him.  

Not far inside the gates was a…  Alright, Danny didn’t know what was going on, but it had the energy of people preparing to go somewhere, so.  Yeah.

“Your majesty, I’ve brought the felter boy and his… friend.”

“I’m sure they have names,” said a girl who was wearing a surprisingly practical riding dress, “and I know you know at least Tucker’s.”  She turned slightly towards Danny.  “And you are?”

“This is, uh, Danny, Princess Samantha,” said Tucker, bobbing bow and elbowing Danny in the side until he got a clue and did the same.  

“I’ve told you, you can call me Sam.”

“R-right.  Sam.”

Everyone in the vicinity except the princess shot them a glare so venomous Danny was tempted to get out a bezoar (ick).  The princess didn’t notice.  She was too busy examining Danny.  He straightened under her sweeping gaze.

“You don’t look like a Ranger.”

“My parents have more experience.”  Or so they claimed, anyway.  “There’s not a lot of call for Rangers these days.”

“Well, you’re the first one to come to me with even a lick of authenticity, so I suppose you’ll do,” she said, finally.   “The Fenton line, correct?  Branch of House Nightingale?”

“Um,” said Danny.  “I suppose?”  He’d heard some things like that, but if he had any Nightingale ancestors, they were buried beneath far more common people.  

“I think you might actually be the last survivors of that house.  Do either of you ride?”

Danny and Tucker shook their heads.  

“More’s the pity, although we won’t be moving at much more than a walk with all the people who insist on coming with us despite their lack of interest in our nation’s heritage.”  She sniffed.  “You will be coming of course, Tucker?”

“‘Course he will,” said Danny, looping an arm around his shoulder.  “We used to be a team when we were kids.”

“Oh?  Goodness, that almost makes me reluctant to send you off to a monastery.  There are so few people with any Ranger training left.”

She turned away, back to her preparations, and Tucker threw Danny’s arm off and glared at him.  Danny grinned lazily back.  Served him right.  Danny could spread the misery around a little bit.  

.

It was true that the princess’s retinue did not move at a rate faster than a walk.  This was, however, at least partially because the princess kept stopping to give alms on her way out of the city.  It seemed the city’s population of beggars had learned her preferred routes.  

“Hey,” said Danny, “this was a one day sort of thing, right?  It’s okay that I didn’t pack stuff for overnight?”

“No, it should be fine, I think,” said Tucker.  “But there’s like a hundred people here.  Someone will have spare stuff.  Besides, if it goes much longer than that, we can just leave.”

Danny nodded.  “That’s true.”

.

When they finally reached the forest, they walked for another hour and a half, this time stopping so that the princess and her ladies could coo at the half-feral forest cats that sometimes watched their progress.

Alright, Danny cooed at them, too, and since he and Tucker were on foot, they had a much better chance of petting them, something he felt just a little smug about.

The first hour of that was on a well maintained road, the last was on a path that looked to be newly cut through tangled underbrush and fallen trees.  Much to the displeasure of the princess’s guards, she decided to dismount and walk next to Danny and Tucker for this part of the journey.  She called it ‘bracing.’

“We only found this because of the late storm during the drought last year,” she said.  “Father sent the fire watch to make sure there hadn’t been any bad lightning strikes close to the city, and one of them found it.  I spent months convincing Father to let me investigate.  I’m hoping that soon it will be something I can share with everyone.”

Danny cleared his throat.  “With this all being so last minute, Tucker didn’t actually get a chance to tell me what ‘it’ was.  Um, Princess Samantha.”  He had no idea how often you were supposed to address royalty by title.  It didn’t come up all that often in his life.  

Samantha’s smile faltered, slightly.  “It’s Sam.  And we’re not sure, actually.  That’s one of the reasons we wanted a Ranger.  I thought that you might recognize it from your training.”

“I don’t know how likely that is,” cautioned Danny.  

Samantha shrugged.  “It is only one of the reasons.  But you don’t have to be pessimistic.  I’m well aware that this endeavor might come to nothing.  It is one thing to hope to reclaim a country’s magical heritage.  It is another thing entirely to actually do it.”

“So… you don’t believe magic is getting used up?”

“I’m not sure.  I think it might have been…  But I have hope that magic is something that can be restored, renewed, and used more wisely.  Other places seem to have managed that, at least a little.  It would be a shame to give up on it entirely, wouldn’t it?  It was a wondrous thing.”

“Sure,” said Danny, “but there were also the monsters.  That’s what the Rangers were for, a lot of the time.”

“Even so.”  She fell silent for a while.  “Have you ever heard of the trap-rabbit?”

“No.  Tuck?”

Tucker shook his head.  

“They used to be quite common here, is my understanding.  The walls of my nursery are painted with them.  They don’t exist anymore.  It’s a sad thing, I think, for that to happen.  I would not wish it to happen even to monsters.”

Tucker made a face.  The princess saw it.  

“I have read the stories,” she said.  “In them, we strike first as often as they.”

“But those are stories,” protested Tucker.  

The princess shrugged.  “As is any history you did not witness personally.  But even we can’t return things to what they were, don’t you think learning what was is still a worthy goal?”

“It sounds like one, anyway,” said Danny.  “I’ve never really thought about it.”

They emerged into a clearing around a large pond.  On the other side of the pond was a huge tree with great, drooping branches.  The branches swayed in the wind, momentarily revealing something made of stone.

“It’s impressive, isn’t it?” asked the princess, stepping onto a path that led around the side of the pond.  It was made of uneven pavers and looked ancient.  

“Yeah,” said Danny.  “I didn’t know trees like that got that tall.”

“Neither did I,” muttered Tucker.  “What’s under there, though.”

“You’ll have to see,” said Samantha- Sam, skipping down the path.  

Danny started after her, and immediately tripped.  He just barely caught himself before face planting and possibly having a very expensive and dangerous accident with his travel kit.

He maybe wasn’t as recovered from his head injuries as he’d thought.  And, yes, he was counting Tucker’s accidental punch.  

It was fine.  

The stone beneath the tree was part of a structure, obviously made by intelligent hands and at least as old as the paved path.  There didn’t seem to be any way into the small building, just some words carved into the side.

“Do you recognize it?”

Danny shook his head.  “But there’s always been lots of different kinds of ruins.”  He walked around the structure, going slowly.  “Reminds me a little of shrines in old temples.  Those are open-sided, though.”

“I know,” said Sam.  “The tree doesn’t mean anything to you, either?”

“Should it?”

Sam shrugged.  Away from the shadow of the tree, her retinue was setting up camp.  They seemed more than happy to let the three of them investigate the maybe-shrine on their own.  Well.  Mostly.  A couple very formidable looking ladies were watching them like hawks, and a bald man had taken out a stool and a thick, dusty book to read in the shade.  

“I don’t think so…  It’s kind of similar to that one story, though, isn’t it?  The one about the tree of life and a sacred pool.”

“It is.  The water seems to be just water, though, and the fruit is just fruit.”  

“Might be where the story came from, though.”

“Maybe,” agreed Sam.  “What do you think of the writing?”

Gods, that was not his area of expertise.  Still, he stepped closer.  “Hm,” he said.  “It’s very writing-like.”

Sam looked at him, concern on her face.  “You can read, yes?”

“What?  Yeah.  Just give me a second.  This isn’t regular writing.”

“I’m aware.”

“You’ve gotten someone else to translate this already, right?”

“My tutor, William Lancer."  She gestured at the bald man, who briefly glanced up from his book.  "It’s good to have a second opinion.”

Danny nodded and called up his admittedly meager knowledge of this sort of thing.  He knew some, because a lot of alchemical texts were written in the old language, but he wasn’t exactly spending his days practicing it.  

“Um,” he said, intelligently.  He was starting to see what Tucker meant about wanting to impress her.  “The first binding, valued more than coin, valued more than land, but spent on it nonetheless, by those who do not own it.  When it is gone, dust is left.  Heart of the land, spend yours before your people.  We shall… wake?”  Danny paused.  “Is that ‘wake?’”

“‘Open,’” said Sam.  “We think answering the riddle might open up the… shrine, for lack of a better word.”

“Mm,” said Danny, who had usually seen it in the context of sleeping medicines.  “Is it the same on all sides?” 

“As far as we can tell.”

“Dust is, um.  Huh.”  He rubbed the back of his neck, wincing when he jostled his head.  “I think this dust might be the same dust as grave dust.  Does that help?”

“This isn’t one of those animal sacrifice things, is it?” asked Tucker.  “Or, uh, human sacrifice?”

“We thought of that,” said Sam.  

Tucker moved away from her.  

“But, ah.  Blood magic tends to be… unpleasant.  We thought we’d avoid that.”

“Might still be blood magic,” said Danny.  “I mean, blood fits, doesn’t it?  Blood relations are the first tie you have, it’s more valuable than money or land, but people still fight wars for those things, they just try to spill other people’s blood.  When it’s gone, you’re left with grave dust.”

“I would prefer not to get sacrificed,” said Tucker.  “If it’s all the same to you, your highness.”

“Tucker, if I was that desperate to get in, I’d just hire people to pull it down, or get a battering ram.  I’m not going to sacrifice anyone.  But… heart of the land?  We thought perhaps wood doves, because of the crest…”

Danny shrugged.  “At that point, it might as well be talking about your blood.”

“Mine?” asked Sam, scandalized but intrigued.

“Sure.  You’re popular, right?  Or at least, you’re royalty.  That’s sort of like being the heart of a country.”

“Couldn't it just be talking about the word, too?" asked Tucker, looking faintly ill.  "Couldn't it be that you just have to say the word blood?"

"I don't know, we've said blood a lot just now."

"But not in the old language," pointed out Sam.  

"Sure," said Danny.  "Sang."

Nothing happened.  He shrugged.  

"Maybe you need to say it," Tucker said to Sam.  

"Sang." 

Still nothing.

"Bleeding it is, then."  Sam pulled an unreasonably large knife from the vicinity of her corset. 

Tucker jumped away, and even Danny took two hurried steps back, ready to throw himself behind the corner of the building.  The ‘supervising’ adults were unalarmed.  

But the princess just pressed the blade to her thumb and held it out to the structure.  

Nothing happened.  

“Maybe you need to bleed on it?” suggested Danny.  

“You don’t want to get an infection, your highness,” said William Lancer, not looking up from his book.

“I know,” said Sam.  She pressed her thumb against the wall, just under the carved riddle.  

For a long moment… nothing happened.  

But then the walls shuddered and began to drop into the ground, leaving only the pillars at the corners to support the roof.  

“Yes!”  Sam pumped her fist and ran in as soon as the walls got low enough.  

This, finally, stirred the watchers to action. 

Danny and Tucker exchanged a glance.  It'd be bad if the princess were cursed, wouldn't it?

Danny hopped over the wall next.  The interior was… Not much of one.  He didn't know what he expected of a ten foot by ten foot building with no walls.  

"Look," said Sam, pointing up.  

"Oh, wow," said Danny, all awareness of what the princess’s minders were doing falling away from him.  The pillars might not be much to look at, but the ceiling…  Danny had just enough experience at art to understand what had gone into carving and painting it.  It was the night sky, as viewed from below trees.  Each leaf and needle was picked out in exquisite detail, perspective perfect.  And the stars… as an alchemist, even an apprentice one, Danny had to know when the stars were right.  These stars were accurate.  They were even accurate to this time of year.  Even the moon was right, its face a careful reproduction of what was really there.

“The floor, too!” said Sam, bringing Danny’s attention to the stone tiles and the small flowers and leaves painted on them as well as… were those map lines?  Danny wasn’t sure.  “This is marvelous.  Do you suppose the pillars are meant to resemble tree trunks?  I didn’t see it before, but now-!  Even if this was it, it’s worth it!”

“It is pretty,” said Tucker, finally following them in.  “Wonder what it was for.”

“It hardly even matters.  That is, it matters, of course, but look at it!”

They looked.  

And while they were looking, the walls shot back up, leaving them in pitch blackness.  

“Ah,” said Danny.  “Somehow, I feel like we should have expected this.”

“Bleed on the walls again!” suggested Tucker in a not at all panicked voice.

There was some shuffling as everyone ran into one another.  

“It’s not working,” said Sam.  

“Well,” said Danny, “at least there’s still the battering ram option?”

“That only works if there’s nothing inside the thing you care about breaking.  Do you– No, I suppose you wouldn’t.  What was the point of this, anyway?  To trap princes and princesses?”

Danny shrugged, even though no one could see him.  

“I don’t suppose any of you have flint or matches?” asked Sam.  “Candles?”

“Some,” admitted Danny.  “But you don’t really want to light a fire in a closed space like this.  Oh!  Wait!  I do have something.”  He opened the top of his travel kit.  The glowing mana pondalorum physick was immediately visible.  The red coating of the vial blocked most of the green light, but in the otherwise absolute darkness, it seemed to burn.  

“What is that?”

“Mana,” said Danny.  “Or water with mana in it.  Some of the old books aren’t super clear.  My parents saved it from way back.”

“Did they save anything else?” asked Sam, her eyes wide.  She reached for it.  

Danny pulled it back, towards his chest.  He had not anticipated curious royalty as a threat to his ‘not getting in trouble with my parents’ plan, but in retrospect he could see that was as obvious a risk as getting stuck in a weird possibly magical ruin.  

“Yeah,” he said, “there’s also the magicidium mix.  It’s, um, emergency magic antidote.  Magic killer.  So, if one of us gets cursed, you want to grab the green vial with the red stuff in it.”

“And, what, drink it?” asked Tucker.  

“Or dump it on them.  Drinking it is better, but, you know, curses…”

“Right,” said Tucker, nodding, “I absolutely know curses.”

Danny had doubts.  But he also had better things to do, like examining the inside of the walls.  He raised the vial, glancing up as the green light was reflected off the painted stars.  For a moment, he thought he might have caught a glimpse of something else, then the moment was gone.  

“Hey, why don’t we just dump the magic killing stuff on the walls or something?” asked Tucker.  

“Because it’s probably magic that makes them move,” said Sam.  “Not magic that keeps them in place.”

The walls had writing on them.  He turned to the nearest one, and brought the vial closer.  “That’s different from the outside, I think?”

“What does it say?” asked Sam.  

“Give me a minute,” said Danny.  “It’s really hard to see.”  He squinted at the writing.  “This is a lot longer,” he said with some dismay.

“You can read it, though, can’t you?”

“Just… don’t rush me.”  Danny chewed his lip, then read slowly.  “Beat true, oh heart, with wisdom and wit, for without these passion lies silent.  Um…  Those who would be woken, must be named.  Those who would be named, must be woken…  No.  Those who are named will be woken.  Speak, therefore, the names of…”

“What names?  Ours?  Mine?”

“Give me a second.  The names of… Okay, I’m not sure if this is just a poetic way to say sleep or not.  The names of those beneath the stars, for you must know them whether it is day or night.  Say them, wake them, walk into the light.”

“You think beneath the stars means sleep?  Those are completely different!”

“And beating around the bush is completely different from avoiding a topic,” said Sam.  “But they mean the same thing.”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  “The stuff I learned from is big on metaphor, but it was, you know, formal.”

“We’re going to die,” said Tucker.  

“We’re not going to die.  Let’s start with our names.  I’m Sam.”

“Danny.”

“Tucker.”  Tucker looked around, nervous.  “Do you think it wants our full names?”

“Yeah…” said Danny, also apprehensive.  “Magic usually does.” Not that he really knew, but that was the way it was in stories.  So.  “Daniel Vladimir Fenton.”

“Oh, gods, that’s your middle name?”

“Shut up.  I know yours is Meredith.”

Sam rolled her eyes with her entire body.  “Princess Samantha Annamarie Laurel Caspera Manson of Amity, Duchess of Beau.  Your turn.”

“Tucker,” he sighed, “Meredith Foley.”

“Alright,” said Danny, “maybe it means something else when it says all.”  

“Like what?  We’re the only ones here.”

Sam had started picking at her lip.  “We are,” she agreed.  “But…  The floor, it was a map, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  “I really hope you’re good at geography.  I’m not.”

“You’re a Ranger.”

“That has nothing to do with geography.”

Sam turned, surveying the room.  “What if it’s not the map, but the trees?”

“The… sculptures?”

“They’re under the stars, too aren’t they?”

.

The next half an hour or so was spent desperately trying to name… everything.  Danny and Tucker just recited every tree name and plant name they could remember - and some animal names just in case - while Sam was a bit more methodical.  Danny and Tucker’s frenzy was only occasionally interrupted by Sam saying something like Elmerton, Casper, Axion, Floode or Eerie.  

As a result, they had no idea who it was that finally triggered the walls to slide down again.  Danny, for one, didn’t really care.  He threw himself out as soon as he was able, and the others seemed to have the same opinion.  

He knelt on the grass and tilted his head up to catch the sparse sunlight filtering through the branches above him.  In doing so, he saw that everyone who had been there before was gone.  

“We weren’t gone long enough for everyone to have left, right?” asked Danny.  

“No,” said Sam, “not at all.”  She climbed to her feet and walked past him, examining the ground.  “It’s like they were never here at all…”

Tucker gasped and pointed up.  “Look at the tree!”

Fruit hung from its branches, heavy, round, and red.  

“What is that?” asked Danny.  

“You don’t know?”

“No.  I’ve never seen a tree like that.”

The walls of the small building grated as they started rising again.  Danny, Sam, and Tucker turned back to it, slowly.  Dread bubbled up in Danny’s stomach, creeping along his spine.

“Maybe we should just go back to the city,” said Danny.  

Sam shook her head.  “There’s no guarantee the city will even be there.”

“There’s no guarantee it won’t be.”

“And there’s no guarantee that stupid thing won’t disappear one of us if we look at it funny,” argued Tucker.  “Let’s cut our losses.”

“There must be a reason for this,” insisted Sam, crossing her arms.  “They wouldn’t just make all this happen for no reason.”

Danny eyed her suspiciously.  “There’s something else, isn’t there?  Something you know about this.”

Sam tapped her foot.  “Maybe,” she allowed.  “Nothing solid, mind you, but one Ranger journal I found suggested that this place was used by the old kings to petition the woods, and that they needed both royalty and Ranger to do it.  That’s… one of the reasons I wanted someone like you to come.”

“Petition it for what?”

“I don’t know.  It didn’t say.  It was one sentence in thousands.  It could have been anything.  Good harvests, few wolves, killing the Pariah King, whatever.  It might not have even been talking about here at all.  I just thought…  If there was anything left…”

“Clearly,” said Tucker, “there was something left.”

“Right,” said Sam.  “But it didn’t say anything about making people disappear.”

“It didn’t say anything about anything, is what it sounds like,” said Tucker.  

“Yes, but…”  She trailed off.  “Don’t you think it’s more likely that we were moved?  Considering.”  She gestured at the peaceful and undisturbed clearing.  “Even the path we came in on is gone.”

Danny hadn’t noticed that, but it was true.  The border of the clearing was entirely overgrown, with no sign that people had broken through the shrubs and small trees there.

“I think,” she said, “that to get back, we have to keep going.”  She looked between the two of them, then at the building, squaring her shoulders.  “I am sorry I brought you into this, but it’s done.  Let’s at least work together to get out of it.”

There wasn’t much choice, was there?  “Alright,” said Danny.  “Let’s go.”

The words on the walls were, predictably, different than they had been before.  Danny was getting used to this already, somehow.  “This is the wisdom of the land, that when the land drinks, the people shall drink, and when the people drink, so shall the land drink, and that when the land is fed, so shall the people be fed, and when the people are fed, so shall the land be fed.  For water to be received, it must be given.  Should salt be given, then salt shall be received.  The land that is fed on blood shall also bleed.  The seed that is planted will grow.  That which wakes will be woken.  The…”  Danny paused. 

“And you were doing so well, too.”

“Listen.”

“Sorry, it’s only… at least the last one had a clear instruction.  This sounds like some kind of philosophical statement.  Not that there’s anything wrong with those.”

“I’m not done yet,” said Danny, plaintively.  “I haven’t seen this word before.  I think it’s a person?  And they’re getting whatever they’re doing done to them?  It goes on like that for a while longer.”  He ran his finger down the line.  And then it says, because the people and the land are one, only about a dozen times.”

“Why would it say it a dozen times?” asked Tucker.  

“It uses a different word for land each time.”

Sam frowned at him.  He wasn’t looking at her, but he could feel it.  “What?”

“Like, mostly it uses the word for land that has trees on it, but–”

“You mean a forest?  Or wood?”

“No, there’s a different word for a forest.  Actually, there’s specifically a word for land that has a forest on it, as opposed to just trees.”  Which Danny only knew because a lot of alchemical potions had dirt as an ingredient.  Incredibly specific dirt.  “And there’s a different word for soil.  Or for unoccupied land.  It’s… the old language is weird.”  There was a reason it wasn’t spoken anymore.  

“And that’s it?”

“No, there’s one more line.  Show your intentions: to eat, and to be eaten.  No, wait, that doesn’t make sense.  That must be feed.”

“That’s not ominous at all,” said Tucker.  

“At least it’s an instruction.”

“Maybe we’re supposed to eat the fruit.  I might do that anyway, actually,” said Danny.  “What?  I’m hungry.  I didn’t eat anything at midday.”

“But what if you eat it, and then it eats you?”

“At least I won’t be hungry?”

“I think the bigger problem here is what if it’s poisonous,” said Sam.  

“Is that really the bigger problem?  Really?”  He gestured around himself.  “I’m going to eat one of those fruits and, uh.  Water the tree.”

“You can say you’re going to pee on it,” said Sam.  “I have bodily functions, too.”

“Whatever.  If that doesn’t work, we can try something else.”

Sam squinted at him.  He got the impression it wasn’t an expression she wore often, but it suited her face very well.  “You know, I expected a Ranger to know more about all of this.”

Tucker made flailing motions behind her.  

“That’s–  In the spirit of honesty, no one in my family has done real Ranger-ing since my grandfather disappeared when my mom was a little girl.”

“The woods do disappear people, oh my gods–”

“My parents just like camping and pretending there are still monsters, and Tucker said you needed someone, so…”

Sam’s whole face twitched.  “I see.  I suppose we can’t say we aren’t similar, then, with respect to false pretenses.  But… let’s not do that anymore.  For the sake of not dying.”  She paused.  “Is the red–”

“It’s really anti-magic.”

Sam’s shoulders slumped.  “At least there’s that.  If the fruit starts turning you into, I don’t know…”

“A wolf,” suggested Tucker.  

“Why not?  A wolf, I’ll make sure to pour it down your throat.”

Danny rolled his eyes.  “And if it’s poisonous, I’ll eat a bezoar.”  

“What’s that?” asked Sam.  

“Thing that helps with poison.  It’s gross, you don’t want to know where they come from.”

“I thought we were being honest–”

“It’s a stone formed in a someone’s stomach or gut,” said Danny.  “Like a gallstone.”

Sam looked fascinated, if disgusted.  “Does… does that actually work?”

“I’m… not actually sure.  But it can’t hurt.”

“I don’t know, it kind of sounds like it could be poisonous on it’s own.”

That was what Danny said to his parents, but did they listen?  No.  

He shrugged at Sam walked away from the building and towards the shore of the pond, where the branches trailed in the water and the fruit was easier to reach.  He pulled one off and rolled it in his hand.  It felt like a plum, even if the size and color was off.  

“Danny, are you sure,” started Tucker.  

"Am I sure what?" asked Danny, opening his kit.

"What are you doing?"

Danny looked down at the beaker in his hand, then back up at Tucker.  "Testing for common poisons?"

"Oh.  I thought you were just going to eat it."

"No, that's weird."  He set up his materials and poked a hole in the fruit with his knife to get some juice.  He let it drip into the containers, then stood up to throw the punctured fruit into the pond.

"Maybe we shouldn't throw things into the potentially magic pond," suggested Sam in a way that wasn't very suggestion-like.  

Danny shrugged at her, wondering vaguely if shrugging at royalty was a punishable offense.  Something caught his eye.

“Hey, there’s a bucket here,” said Danny.  “Do you think we’re supposed to do something with the bucket?”  He walked over and picked it up.

"Maybe it's to actually water the tree," said Tucker.  

"That makes sense," said Danny.  He tossed the bucket at Tucker.  Tucker fumbled it.  

“Why me?”

“I’ve got to watch this,” said Danny, pointing at where the fruit was reacting or not reacting to the chemicals in the beakers.  “And, well…”

“Dear gods,” said Sam.  “You had better not be about to say that I’m somehow unable to fill and carry a bucket because I’m a girl.”

“No.  I just thought you wouldn’t want to.”  And she could probably make life very hard for them if they annoyed her too much.  

Sam scoffed and took the bucket from Tucker.  “I’ve got it.”  

“Alright,” said Tucker.  “She’s got it.”

.

The tests for poison came back negative, so…

Danny bit into a fruit he’d just picked and blinked.  “Oh, these are actually really good.”

“We’ll take your word for it.”

.

“Look,” said Tucker, “That thing’s not doing anything, so I’m going to see if I can find the main road.  I’d prefer it if you came with me, but…”

“Might as well,” said Danny.  

“Fine,” said Sam.  “But we’re going to take precautions to make sure we can get back here.”

“Like what?” asked Danny.  

Sam pulled out a clue of string from… somewhere.  

“Do you just carry that around?”

“Of course.  String is useful.”

.

It turned out it didn’t matter.  No matter how they left the clearing, they wound up back in it.  

.

"It's been a couple hours," said Danny as they laid on the ground under the tree.  "I probably would have died by now if there was actually poison in those fruits."

"Mhm," said Sam, contemplatively.

"Just a question, but, speaking of which, have either of you noticed the sun getting lower?"

"No," said Sam.

"Nope," said Tucker.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."  He looked up at the still-blue sky.  “You guys are going to have to eat or drink something eventually.”

“Yeah,” said Tucker.  “But I’ve been thinking, and… what if it takes us someplace worse?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny.  

“Staying isn’t an option.”

“It could be.  Maybe the fruit grows back, or there’s fish in the pond.”

“Have you seen any fish?” asked Danny.  

“No.  Why?”

“Sometimes people use fish as fertilizer.”

“We don’t have anything to catch fish with.”

“We’ve got string and the fruit.  Maybe we can find some worms, too?”

“Might as well,” said Sam.  

.

None of them were particularly skilled at fishing.  No fish were caught.  

.

Sam chewed on the fruit.  “You know,” she said, “if it weren’t for the mortal peril and all, I’d say this was pretty good.”

“It is tasty,” allowed Tucker, who was pausing to glare at the fruit between every bite.  

“No, I mean all this.”  Sam waved at nothing in particular.  “It’s nice.  Fun.”  

At least someone was having a good day.  He’d been trying to ignore the swollen lump on the back of his head and his black eye, but it hadn’t really been working.  

Under other circumstances, though… He could see hanging out with Sam and Tucker being fun.  The odds of that happening if Sam went on with princess-ing and Tucker became a monk were pretty low, though.

“I don’t think I’ve done anything without being watched by half a dozen people since I was eight.”

“Anything?” repeated Danny.

“Anything.”

Danny didn’t want to ask, but the question was there, in his head.

“Yes, in the bath, too.”  She sighed and held up the fruit pit.  “I suppose we should bury these?  Over there, maybe?”

“Can’t hurt,” said Danny.  “Anyone have a shovel?  And– Oh!”  He opened up his kit.  “We can use this!”  He held up a vial of white powder.

“What’s that?”

“Niter!”

“... Doesn’t that explode?” asked Tucker.

“Sometimes.”

“Why do we want to explode anything?” asked Sam.  

“We don’t.  It’s fertilizer.”

“But it’s white.”

“So?”

Tucker sighed heavily.  “Maybe we can use the bucket as a shovel?”

.

Sam patted down the last bucket-scrape of dirt with a gleeful expression.  They were all pretty grimy at this point, but it looked like she was enjoying it.  

The scraping sound wasn’t exactly music to Danny’s ears, but it was still something.  They ran to the building.  Three of the walls had dropped.  The one nearest to the pond had remained standing.  

Danny swallowed.  Something felt… Not wrong, exactly, but there was a strong sense of meaning.  

“Hey,” he said, before Sam and Tucker could step in, “wait.  Maybe only one of us should go in.  Just in case.”

“In case what?  We’re already in a bad way,” said Sam.  “We might as well face this together.”

Danny nodded.  “Yeah, but this feels…  Different.  If everything’s fine, you can come in, too.”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny, “but you wanted a Ranger for a reason.”

“Yes, but we’ve established you aren’t one.”

“I’m enough of one for us to get here, right?  If I get stuck in there, you can always plant more pits and open it back up.”

“And who knows if we’ll be in the same place?” asked Sam.  

“Just… humor me on this,” said Danny.  “And remember, if I do get cursed, we have the magicidium.”

“There has to be an easier name for that,” muttered Tucker. 

“Sure.  Blood blossoms.  They’re called that because they’re red.”

Tucker spread his hands.  “Then why–”

“I like saying it.  It makes it sound cooler.”

Sam raised her hand, stopping them.  “You know you’re the only one who can read the old language, right?  You’d be the one going in to look at what’s written there.”

“I know.  I’m the one who suggested it.”

Sam groaned, rubbing her eyes with the backs of her wrists.  “I should have learned the old language instead of Elmerian.”

Danny shrugged.  “There’s always the future?”

Both of… oh, he might as well call them his friends, at this point… glared at him.  

“Fine,” said Sam, “but if you do get cursed, I’m going to say I told you so.”

With trepidation, Danny crossed into the building.  The floor and ceiling hadn’t changed, but the only upright wall was now packed with writing.  He craned his neck back to see what was on top.  The words almost seemed to glitter.

“This is a lot,” he said.  

“Can we come in now?” asked Sam.

“Not yet,” said Danny.  “Let me translate this first.  Children of the land, know this, we, your forefathers, and we of the land have built this path to see the… obscured?”  A shadow fell across Danny’s view of the carving, making the words seem to flash.  He stood on his tip-toes and leaned closer, squinting.  “To understand the world… beyond?  Within.  The world within the woods, and you have come because they have failed and you wish to repair.”  He put his hand on the stone as he leaned still closer, nose almost pressed against the stone in an effort to see just a little better.  It slid into a comfortable depression and he continued to read.  “Let the bright magic– mana– let mana alter–”

Light flared across his vision, then everything went dark.  He yelped.  

“Danny?!”

“I’m–  Hells and heavens–”   He rubbed his eyes.  “The sun didn’t suddenly disappear after that flash, did it?”

“No.”

“What flash?”

He’d been afraid of that.  “I’ve been cursed.”  His heart did a funny twist at the admission.  

If his parents were here, they’d be thrilled.  

Actually, probably not.  If they’d been cursed, they’d be thrilled.  They’d still be upset about him getting cursed.

“What?”

“I can’t see anything.  I must have triggered it somehow–”  He shook his head, as if that would throw off his blindness.  “The word obscured.  I thought it was just the lighting, but maybe it really flashed?  Um.”  He turned around, carefully.  “I think it was just the words that triggered it, but I’m going to walk in your direction…”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Tucker, “you’re going the right way.”

“Just stay straight,” encouraged Sam.  

The building was barely three strides across, but at the same time it was the longest walk he’d ever taken.  He was relieved when Sam and Tucker grabbed him.  

“Alright, so, if you guys can open my kit and get out the magicidium–”

“Blood blossoms.  Let’s call it blood blossoms.”

“Whatever you want,” said Danny.  

“They’re red, right?” asked Sam.

“Yeah, and sparkly.”

“I’ve got it.”

“Good,” said Danny, holding out his hand.  “Can you–  The cap?”

Sam pressed the vial into his hand, her fingers lingering around his as she made sure he had a grip on it.  

“I should just need, like, a sip,” he told himself.  He raised it to his lips, drank, and immediately knew that what he had in his hand wasn’t the blood blossom mixture.

With a calm he didn’t feel, he lowered the vial. 

“Can you see, now?” asked Sam.  

“No,” said Danny.  “I can’t.  What color is this?”  He held up the vial.

“Red,” said Sam.  

“The vial is red,” clarified Danny.

“Yes, that’s what you said, isn’t it?”

“No,” said Danny, closing his eyes.  “That’s- The blood blossoms are red.  But the vial they’re in is green.  This is the mana, isn’t it?”

“Uh,” said Tucker.  

“Kinda crackly glaze, glowing green on the inside?”

“Yeah,” said Tucker, weakly.  “It looked different in the dark.”

“Yeah,” said Danny, voice cracking.  “The dark does that.”

“I thought you said the red vial,” said Sam, very quietly.  “Oh, no, I thought you said the red vial.”  She sounded like she might be about to cry.

“Hey, it’s hard to tell the difference between red and green,” said Tucker, clearly intending to comfort her.    

“Genuinely, it is not.”

Someone, probably Tucker, swallowed audibly.  “You can still take the blood blossoms, though, right?”

“No!  No.  They don’t react well with concentrated mana.”

“By not reacting well, do you mean–”

“Niter isn’t the only thing in my kit that can make explosions.”  He swallowed and opened his eyes.  He still couldn’t see anything but this still felt more like facing things.  “This is fine.  I’m just blind, not dying.”  Probably.  “We’ll just be relying on more guesswork than before.  Or I can try to figure out what it’s saying by touch?”

“No,” said Sam, grabbing his wrist, “do you want to get more cursed?”

“Carefull,” he hissed.  “We don’t want to spill this here.  Where’s the stopper?”

“Here,” said Tucker, taking the vial of mana from him.  

“What else do you remember from what you were reading?  Before you were cursed?”

“I don’t know.  Something about letting magic change you to be…  Something.  And then something about guarding both sides on the next line down.  Or fighting.  Maybe something about waking up.  I don’t remember.”  

“Danny,” said Tucker, “your eyes are glowing.”

“They’re not, like, melting or anything, are they?”

“Just glowing.  The same color as the, uh, stuff.  The mana.”

“And your hair is turning white,” added Sam.  

“Oh, that’s great.  Maybe I am dying.”

“Don’t say that,” said Sam.  “Maybe- Maybe this is magic changing you, and we just have to let it run its course.”

“I don’t like that.”

“Neither do I, but it’s that or you explode, so forgive me for a little optimism!”  She’d never dropped his wrist, and now she trapped his hands between hers.  “I don’t want you to die.”

“Neither do I,” said Tucker.  “You’re my best friend.”

“We haven’t seen each other for years,” said Danny, trying not to sound choked.  “Come on.”

“Hey, some friendships are timeless, right?”

Sam sniffled.  “Even short ones.”

Gods, he really might be dying.  

“Does that mean I can tell people I’m friends with a princess?”

“Only if you want my mother trying to get you executed.”

“That’s not a n–”

The sound of the wall behind him dropping made Danny jump.  But what made him spin was that he could see light coming from behind him.  

Footprints made of flowers glowed on the ground.  A rectangle in the dimensions of the far wall was cut out of the darkness surrounding him.  Beyond it…

“Oh,” said Danny.  “Do you guys see that?”

“Do you?” asked Sam, suddenly sharp.  

“Maybe.”  He took a deep shuddering breath.  “Were there steps leading down to the pond before?  And was the pond glowing?”

“No,” said Tucker.  “But we don’t see that.”

“We see everyone,” said Sam.  “The way out.  The knights are there, someone must have sent for them.”  She laughed.  “We can get out.  They must not be able to see us, though.”

“I don’t think I can go that way,” said Danny.  “I don’t see it.”

He could only see the ancient and watchful trees that surrounded the clearing, the faintly luminous waters of the pond and the steps that led down to them.  Images of trees, not quite reflections, swayed on the pond’s glowing surface, seeming to extend into the depths.

“You should go,” he said, faintly.  “Now.  You don’t know if you’ll get another chance.”

If his heart had been twisting before, it was shuddering now.  

“No,” said Sam.  “No.  I started this.  None of this would have happened if I didn’t bring you here.  I’m not going to leave you.  We’ll go down to the pond with you.  Or at least I will.”  The last was said with an edge of challenge.

“Me, too,” said Tucker, though he seemed far less certain.  “I got you into this mess, Danny.”

“I don’t know that I’m going down to the pond,” said Danny, both touched and annoyed.  “And you don’t know if you can, if you can’t see it.”

“It’s where the path leads,” said Sam, stubbornly.  “Didn’t you read that that’s why this place was built.”

The footprints.  Danny closed his eyes briefly, and nodded.  “Walk where I walk,” he said, putting his foot squarely on the first print.  

He wasn’t sure if it was just the magic doing weird things to his vision, but as he got closer to the opening, the prints seemed to shift when he wasn’t looking straight at them, taking shapes other than a human sole.  He tried not to think about what that might mean.

He stepped out of the building.  Sam and Tucker walked out after him.  

“Wow,” said Sam, looking around.  “That’s… definitely different.”  She waved her hand in front of her.  “It’s like the air is glowing.”

A breeze stirred the waters of the pond to lap at the lowest step.  It felt like they were beckoning him down into that even stranger forest beneath its waters.

He pulled the strap of his travel kit off over his head.  “Here,” he said, handing it to Tucker.  “Just in case.”

“We’re going to be with you,” said Tucker, trying to push it back to him.  

“Yeah, but… Let me go first, alright?”

He stepped down and forward, once, twice, and his foot broke the surface of the water–

.

A forest is not a single thing.  It is a vast and sprawling ecosystem, containing within itself multitudes.  Creatures, plants, and even decay.  Life, limited and not.  Water, from beneath the earth, from the sky, from the rivers and streams, from the lakes and the ponds.  Air and soil and stone.  Death that becomes life and life that becomes death.  The trees stretch upwards.  

Yet, it is a single thing.  

Truthfully, sometimes it is even a single life.  A thousand trees with a single root.

And, here, there was magic.  

The woods woke, stirred from slumber by the ripples of a stone thrown into still water.  

A stone is changed by water.  A stone is changed, also, by the root of a tree piercing through it, dividing it, scattering it.  A stone may be shaped.  A stone may be changed.  But this stone was clay.  This stone was flesh.  This stone was a seed that might yet grow.  This seed was a star that might yet shine.  

They were awake.  

They were awake, and, so, they would wake.  

But the people were the land and the land was the woods, and the heart of the land had long ago promised a champion to the people, a guardian at both sides of the gate.  A contract that was wisdom.

The seed was well rooted, but the star was of the air, and there was accord between heaven and earth.  This satisfied.  But the price of knowledge was always the destruction of ignorance.  

This was the past:  The sword, the spear, the fire, for evil is the reward of evil, and sown salt shall reap no harvest but salt.  Monsters met with monstrous ends, even the monsters who called themselves men.  

“I don’t want to be a killer,” whispered Danny, “I don’t want to kill people.”

Then he would not be, and the gifts of killers would not be his.  

This, too, was the past: The wall.  The tower.  The rope.  The net.  The maze.  The binding word.  The sacrifice.  The promise.  

It shall be kept.  

“It shall be kept.”

And this was the past:  The house that was built under ax and saw, a home for a gardener.  The books that became forests of their own.  Long memories and longer stories, passed on forever.  The campfire and the meal shared.  The trees tended, and new growth rising from ashes. 

“I can do that,” said Danny.  “I can be that.”

The heart of the land sent forth a gift, with passion, wisdom, and wit, and it was received.  That which gives is also given, and that which is gifted may also receive.  There were gifts.  There were expectations.  A gift must be given in turn.

And the fruit of the trees shall sustain.  And the branches of the trees shall shelter.  And that which is protected shall protect.

And this was the future.

.

Danny crawled out of the pond, gasping.  Hands - familiar, now - pulled him up and out.  

“Oh, gods, Danny–”

“What?” he managed, spitting up water.  

“There’s stuff growing on you–”

“Your ears–”

“Princess Samantha!”

Something heavy and hard jostled into their little group, knocking Danny back to the ground.  He could feel it.  The ground.  All those little lives and deaths.  The things growing, hungry, wanting, needing– All the things he could give them–

“Stop this at once!” demanded Sam, bringing him out of… whatever that was.  He looked up and around, and was impressed by how many sharp, shiny, pointy things were pointed in his direction.

He tried to scramble to his feet, but was thwarted by his body deciding it just wasn’t going to do that.  His whole body felt like it had been taken apart and put back together with new parts.

… Which might actually be what happened.  The… presence in the woods within the pond had been…  It had been an experience.  One he wasn’t keen on repeating in the near future but nevertheless ached for.  

His head didn’t hurt anymore, at least.

“Back foul beast!” shouted one of the knights with a spear, his voice reverberating within his helmet.  “You will not lay your hand on the princess–”

“I was the one touching him!  He’s not a beast– Let me go!  Tucker, say something!”

“Please don’t kill us!  Danny’s just cursed!”

“What manner of curses have you wrought upon the princess!  Release her from your geas, monster!”

If Danny wasn’t so scared right now, he’d be laughing.  Who talked like that?

But he was scared.  He needed to get away.  He needed speed, swiftness, and the agility, or at least the size, to avoid all these spears and swords.  

Which was a ridiculous thought to cross his mind, because it wasn’t like he was going to pull any of those things from thin air.  

Except he did.  Change rippled over his body, throwing off white sparks like from fireworks.  Fingernails to claws, hands to paws, ears sharp, tail -  He ran, four-footed, between the feet of the nearest knight, body stretching and contracting in his flat-out sprint as if he knew what he was doing.  

He had no idea what he was doing.  

A spear impacted the ground in front of him, and he startled sideways into a horse’s path.  Everything was so much larger than him, now.  He lashed out, claws raking across the horse’s nose, and the horse reared back, dumping its rider.  

It occurred to Danny, then, in a sort of vague, panicked sense, that whatever he’d turned into, he could cause a lot of chaos.  

The next horse he saw, he went for the eyes.  

He neglected to realize that, as small as he was, chaos might affect him more than it usually did.  

Still, he made it to the brushy edge of the clearing in what he hoped was one piece.  He crawled underneath it, hopping through thin spots whenever he was able.  A tree rose up out of the shrubby mess like a godsent miracle, and he climbed up it, sinking his sharp claws into the bark, until he got to a branch that could support his weight.  His real weight, not whatever he weighed now.  

He huddled down, trying to remember what the change felt like, trying to will it to reverse, to make him himself again–

Slowly, his body returned to normal, fur fading back into skin, claws becoming nails once again.  His clothing, sans shoes, rematerialized from somewhere.  But… This wasn’t what his body had been like when he’d crawled out of the pond.  It had been different, then.  He could feel it.  He knew it.  

The tree he was perched in was not the presence below the pond, but that was a matter of degree, not kind.  The roots of the woods were tangled and reached as far down as the branches reached up.  To stone.  To star.  

It was quiet.  Steady.  Already established.  It didn’t need things from him, not like the ground.  Not right now, anyway.  

But still, it whispered to him, and he knew.  This was no more him than the forest cat's body he'd worn moments ago.

He curled in on himself and cried.

.

Tucker found him first, over a week later.

Although, it might have been better to say that Danny let himself be found.  Shapeshifting into a cat or squirrel helped with hiding, funnily enough.  

Shapeshifting was fun, even if it wasn't worth… everything else.  At least, so long as he was in the trees.  With his feet on the ground, listening to everything beneath them, without the lightning focus of fear, he couldn't direct it.  What he was fell apart into… this.  

Not the same as he'd been as Sam and Tucker dragged him from the pond, but more like it.  A shape closer to what he was wanted to be rather than what he wanted to be.  

But he'd seen Tucker coming, and he didn't want to talk to him while hiding in the trees.  That would be wrong, he felt.  

So, he walked into the middle of the road in front of Tucker, moss and grass curling up around toes that weren’t shaped right.  His fingers were long and sharp and so were his teeth.  He had no idea what his face looked like right now.  He hadn’t been brave enough to check… assuming, of course, that he could even tell by touch.  He could have stripes right now and not know it.  

He hoped he was, at least, recognizable.  

“Danny, gods.  We thought you were dead.”

Oh, good.  At least that fear was unfounded.  

“Hi, Tucker,” said Danny.  After not talking much for a week, his voice was scratchy.  

… Or maybe that was the crying.  Who knew?

“Oh my gods.”  Tucker drew his hands down his face.  “I can understand why you didn’t come back to the city with…”  He gestured at Danny’s entire body.

“That’s not why,” said Danny, before he could continue.  “I can’t leave the woods.”

“You what?  What do you mean, you can’t leave?”

“I just can’t.”  He’d tried to leave, at the beginning, but it didn’t work.  He could walk to the border of the woods, where they opened up into the fields immediately around the city.  He was quite comfortable there, even, standing under those branches, looking out.  But he couldn’t go any further.  

“Because of the curse?”

“I guess,” said Danny.  “There’s not really anything else, is there?  There’s not something that just makes people stop for no good reason.”  

“Can you– I brought the blood blossom stuff, can you take it?  Maybe–”

“No,” said Danny, firmly.

“But–” said Tucker, pulling the green vial out of his pocket.  

Danny wanted to cringe away from it.  “Just.  No.  Tucker…  I’m not sure how much…”  He wasn’t sure how much of him was left that wasn’t magic.  “Sometimes, when curses really take hold, it doesn’t–”  He sucked his lips in and regretted it as his long teeth scrapped at them.  “What do you think happens when that stuff is put on something that is magic?”  Danny tilted his head to the side and tried to smile again.  “It’s been over a week.”  

He watched Tucker’s face shift as he realized what that might mean, and his smile fell as well.  

"I've seen my parents come through a few times," he said, just to say something different.

"Did you talk to them?"

"No." He grimaced.  "Apparently, I'm a creature now.”  He ignored that he’d said as much to Tucker just moments ago.  “It didn't seem… smart."

"That must be…"  Tucker paused to search for an appropriate adjective.  "Hard."

"Yeah."  He'd been wondering if Jazz had come home.  If she was looking for him, too, or if she was still in Elmerton.  If she knew.  But he didn’t want to ask.  

"Sam will want to see you."  Tucker bit his lower lip.  "She kind of… asked if I would look.  I was going to anyway!  But… I can tell her I couldn't find you, if you don't." 

“No, I think I’d like that, actually.  She was right.  It was fun, before.”  He sniffled.  “Maybe we can even try to find what she was actually looking for.”

“Why would you do that?” asked Tucker, aghast.  “Messing around with all of this cursed you to have weird ears and be stuck in the woods for who knows how long.  Let’s just forget–  Well, I mean, avoid anything else like this as much as we can.”

The woods leaned in around them.  “I don’t think it works like that,” said Danny.  “Things are waking up.  And I think… I think the only reason Sam was able to find the- the path was because the woods were already waking up.  And some of the things… I don’t think they’re good, Tuck.”

“That’s not ominous at all,” squeaked Tucker.  “You know your eyes are glowing again, right?”

“Are they?”  He blinked and shook his head.  “Have you been looking for me the whole time?”

Tucker laughed nervously.  “No.  There’s, uh.  Turns out that if you disappear with the princess there are questions.  Lots and lots of questions.  So many questions.”  He shuddered.  “And my master is angry at me.  And the guild is angry with me.  But I’m fine!  What- What have you been up to?  What else have you been up to?  I, uh.  Ha.  Ha?"

A wry smile twitched the corner of Danny's lips.  "The tops of the trees, I guess." 

[lexosaurus]

Keep Your Enemies Closer

A little Tech Hunter AU oneshot I wrote for DP Angstfest 2023! I based this off of @kinglazrus' AU fic for the @dpauzine in which Tucker is the Red Hunter. It's been stuck in my brain ever since, so I couldn't resist writing her AU for this event!

[ao3]

****

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

That's what people always said, anyway. It's what actors spouted in Hollywood blockbusters as their characters sipped their old fashioned in the dimly lit bar. It's what people typed in their chat logs online, thinking of themselves as high and mighty, very cool, not to be messed with, while they cracked open their fifth serving-sized bag of Doritos that day.

But this wasn't a Hollywood blockbuster. It wasn't Tucker talking up himself to random usernames online.

As he looked at Danny, who was animatedly chatting to Sam about some recently released video game that Tucker couldn’t pretend to care about anymore, he knew that this wasn't just a cool verse. It was real, at least to him. 

“The final boss was way too easy,” Sam was saying. “It's like the devs weren't even trying.”

“I beat it in like five seconds flat,” Danny agreed.

“Yeah, because you exploited the armor glitch,” Sam said. “If you played the game like it was supposed to be played, the final boss would have taken at least a little longer.”

Danny tsked his tongue. “It’s not my fault that I’m obviously just one step ahead of the devs. And you, actually.”

“Come on,” Sam laughed, catching onto the mood. “Stop messing with me.”

Danny grinned back at her, his fangs poking out over his lips. “Samantha Manson, when have I ever messed with you?”

Tucker ducked his head before his face could show. Though, each day that passed seemed to allow that quiet mask to slip over his face far more easily than the day before. And he wasn't even talking about the little yellow mask that lived under his skin.

He remembered the day he'd pieced it all together. The day all the lies, all the little breadcrumb clues, suddenly snapped into place.

He'd been home, as usual, watching videos of the rapidly increasing ghost attacks targeting the city. And of course, at the epicenter of it all was Phantom.

Danny fucking Phantom.

He remembered Danny calling him, his face popping up on Tucker’s home screen, and Tucker pausing the video and holding up his phone to see the two faces side by side. The same smile, the same freckles, the same jaw and haircut and they were the same. 

He couldn’t believe it. But…it made sense. And maybe that was the worst part because it meant that his friend, his best friend, was dead. And worse, he’d turned into a monster. 

But when? When had he died? Was it that “accident” that he sometimes referenced? The day he’d gotten hurt by some of his parents’ equipment?

It didn’t matter. Because now, he was Phantom. But how was he Phantom? The ghost that Tucker loathed. The ghost that Tucker had long since blamed for turning their safe city into a fucking warzone.

How did his best friend turn into…that? Was death really so horrible that it completely changed a person? 

Or was this always inside Danny, deep down in the recess of his subconscious? So deep, so hidden, that Tucker had never noticed till now.

Some people saw Phantom as a hero, and he seemed to revel in it. His cockiness was overflowing, and he took great pride in arriving at every scene precisely when the new ghost of the week would show up. He'd throw a few puns, assure the crowd that, “Don't worry, citizens! I've got this!”, and then he'd beat the ghost up, suck them in his thermos, and would disappear until the next attack.

Phantom had fooled many of the masses. But despite what Dash's stupid nicknames would suggest, Tucker was no sucker. Even if everyone else had their heads up their ass, he didn't.

Tucker didn’t do anything at first. Maybe he’d just been in too deep of a denial. After all, who wanted to pin the destruction of their city on their fucking best friend? 

But then, he started paying attention. To Danny, the “human,” more. All his little quirks, his habits. The way he seemed to jump when Sam casually put a hand on his shoulder (he’d never used to do that), the way his teeth started to sharpen (humans don’t have fangs), the way his eyes would spark green sometimes (it wasn’t a trick of the light), or how he’d always disappear right before a ghost attack (almost like he knew they were coming).

But Tucker stayed silent. Because if Danny was Phantom, then Danny was dangerous. Who knew what Phantom would do if Tucker revealed that he knew? No, it was better to stay docile, not rock the boat, not put his life at risk. Just play it cool.

That plan only worked for so long.

The breaking point wasn’t an explosion of flashy lights so much as it was a seed, planted, but not yet even watered. It was Tucker booting up his virtual computer and opening Tor after school like any other day. 

The usual usernames were chatting in his group. People working on their various projects, coming to the chat room for tips or just talking about whatever other topic was on their mind. This was typical—welcome, even—after the confusing mess that had been Tucker’s every other waking moment as of late.

And then the conversation took a turn. 

To Phantom.

Sporksmith: I haven't wrapped my head around whether Phantom is a good guy or not. ChaseK: It's sus that as soon as the ghosts started showing up, so did he. Sporksmith: That's what I'm thinking, but the guy takes so many beatings a week. I feel like it's more likely that he's crawling out of the same dimensional holes that they are because the dude has family here or something. Mole: That's probably it. He uses modern slang, so it's pretty obvious he died recently.

This wasn’t the first time they’d talked about Phantom. He was a fascinating subject and under much national scrutiny. But this time, Tucker finally stepped in.

GoldenFryer: You guys don't know what you're talking about. ChaseK: You know something then? GoldenFryer: Yeah, I have some inside info. Can't say much, but Phantom isn't who he seems. He's dangerous. Sporksmith: You sound like a guy who's got something up his sleeve.

He hadn't, at that point. But still, it needled his mind. He was closest to Phantom, wasn't he? Even if Danny himself didn't know. Of everyone, wasn't it Tucker’s responsibility to do something about this?

To set the soul of his dead best friend free?

GoldenFryer: Not yet, but maybe I should.

Of course, he couldn't do it by himself, but there was someone who could help. Someone with money, power, and a vocal hatred for ghostly invaders.

“Tucker Foley,” Vladimir Masters said, opening his door. His hair was pulled back in his signature ponytail, and he wore a gaudy green Packers bathrobe. “You’re awake early on a Saturday for a teenager. My, where's your other half?”

“No Danny today. Just me,” he said, keeping his tone casual despite the sudden anxiety spike in his gut.

Vlad grinned and stepped aside, sweeping his arm over the now open doorway. “Excellent, why don't you come in?”

Tucker followed the gesture and stepped through the door, trying to ignore the guilt that was clawing at him. Danny always talked about how much he hated Vlad, and how creepy the guy was. And while Tucker agreed that Vlad was more than a little slimy, Vlad was a businessman, and more importantly, a billionaire. Being slimy kinda came with the territory.

And besides, Vlad had only moved into the town a year ago, after Danny had already turned into Phantom. So, it wasn't Danny who hated Vlad, not really.

“Come, make yourself comfortable. You're a bit too young for me to offer you a drink, but maybe some water, perhaps?”

“I'm fine,” Tucker said. His voice echoed around the empty house.

“Then sit.” Vlad pulled out a seat at the bar. “I just brewed myself a pot of tea. Maybe you'd care for some of that?”

“No thanks,” Tucker said, his voice jilted as he forcefully remembered his manners. Even if it was Phantom who hated Vlad, Tucker wasn't too keen on being behind closed doors with the man any longer than necessary either. 

Vlad paid him no mind, of course, and poured his tea into a fancy china cup. He brought the cup up to his nose, sniffed, and then smiled, setting it down on a small plate on the counter and settling into a seat for himself. “So,” he started, clasping his hands together. “What do I owe the pleasure of seeing you on this fine day?”

Tucker blew a breath out, trying to expel the mounting anxiety in his system. “Okay, I realize what I'm about to say sounds absolutely insane. I get that, but I just need you to let me explain.”

That slimy smirk was back on Vlad's lips. “Oh? Do tell.”

“Okay.” Tucker wrung his hands in his lap. “Okay, just—just hear me out. Trust me, nobody wants to say this less than me.”

“But of course, my dear boy.”

Tucker exhaled one last time and then began. “So, I know who Phantom is. You know, the ghost? I—he's disguising himself as a teenager, and I know who it is.”

“Oh, really? My, that doesn't sound good.”

“It's not.” Tucker closed his eyes, covering his forehead with his hand. “It's the worst, really. Because the person that Phantom is pretending to be—and I know, I know, just let me explain—but it's Danny. Danny Fenton.”

Tucker peeked through his hand to see the smile on Vlad's lips widen. 

“Daniel Fenton, my godson, you mean?” Vlad said. “That's quite the accusation.”

“I know it is. Trust me,” Tucker said. “But—okay, so basically, I think what happened was that Danny was in some sort of lab accident, and it killed him. He talks about it sometimes, but he doesn't give any details. But I'm pretty sure that was it. Because only like a month after that happened, all the ghosts started appearing. And Phantom too. I—uh, here. Hang on, let me show you...” Tucker leaned over and pulled his tablet from his backpack. He opened it and went to his files, opening a pdf of his comparison photos. He handed the tablet to Vlad, saying, “This is them side by side in different positions. You can really see it there, when the photos are lined up like this. They look exactly the same. But that's not all! Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Vlad said, swiping through the pdf.

“Look, I don't really know how to explain it, but Danny's just...he's different now. He disappears before ghosts attack, he comes back all beat and sometimes bloody. He's cold, way colder than normal, and sometimes I see him—when someone's annoying him or if he's pissed—where it's almost like...like he can't even contain his human form anymore. His eyes get green, and sometimes ectoplasm sparks in his palms. It's not human.”

“And you see this as...a problem?” Vlad looked up from the tablet. “If Daniel was Phantom?”

“Why wouldn't it be? Don't you have this whole initiative to get rid of ghosts?” Tucker argued.

If anything, that seemed to amuse Vlad more. He set the tablet down and said, “But of course, I wasn't insinuating anything. I merely just acknowledge that Daniel is your best friend and that most of you youths enjoy Phantom's presence in this city.”

“Only the blind ones do. I know better. Phantom is bringing the ghosts into this town. Mr. Masters, you know how all ghosts have Obsessions?”

“Yes, I am aware.”

“Well, Phantom’s Obsession is being a hero, right? What's more heroic than setting up a bunch of ghost fights to 'save' people from?”

Vlad's smile was almost impossibly wide now. “Yes, I understand.”

Something was amusing to that billionaire creep, but Tucker hardly had time to figure out what before Vlad was up out of his seat, pacing around his kitchen.

“You see, I already know all this. You understand, I'm the one funding this city's anti-ghost initiative. And I also know that young Daniel is Phantom.”

Tucker's jaw dropped. “You do?”

“But of course, I do!” Vlad pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped on it for a minute before passing it off to Tucker. In an encrypted app that Tucker didn't recognize was a video. 

“Well, go on,” Vlad said.

Tucker pressed play on the video to see a dimly lit alley with Phantom standing at the end of it. He glanced around, and then white rings appeared, passing over his body. A white T-shirt and jeans replaced a black suit, and black hair replaced white hair.

The rings disappeared, and the person that remained was none other than Danny Fenton.

Tucker blinked, and his head snapped out of the memory. His eyes refocused, and Danny Fenton sat in front of him, still talking to Sam, his posture still far too easygoing for someone who wasn't even human.

His human form was impressively detailed. His unruly black hair, dash of freckles on his cheeks, blue eyes, and pointed nose—all signature traits of Danny. He had gotten it almost perfect.

Almost. 

It made Tucker's blood boil, and he struggled to push it down, keep it in check. Ghosts could feel intense emotions.

The calm mask slipped over him once more, and Tucker was empty. Just empty.

Just how, when he stared into Danny's eyes, he could see that same emptiness too. There was no humanity left. No, that'd died almost two years ago now. All that remained was a ghost. 

He wanted his friend back. But that was impossible. The only thing that he could do now was wipe all ghosts out so no one ever suffered the way Tucker was right now.

He was a hacker, so once he got the tech, programming it was a piece of cake. Okay, so maybe it was a little bit harder than that, but he was nothing if not determined.

And he was nothing if not a damn good programmer.

And now he had the power to fix this, end the ghostly invasion in Amity, end Phantom's terrorizing reign, and set his former friend free.

“What do you think, Tuck?” Danny turned to face Tucker.

“Huh?” Tucker grunted, his elbow nearly slipping from his desk. “Sorry, what are we talking about?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Jeez, you really have been spacey today. Sleep well last night?”

No, he hadn't, actually. Because Phantom had set up another attack at 2 a.m. and so Tucker had to intervene.

Danny was wearing long sleeves today. Good. It meant that Tucker's shot really had nailed his bicep.

“No, sorry,” Tucker chuckled. “Was rushing to get Lancer's essay done. I can't work on it this weekend; my cousins are coming to town.”

“Again?” Sam asked.

No, they weren't. Tucker hadn't seen his cousins since Christmas. 

“Yeah, my aunt and my mom are in this whole midlife crisis thing right now. Want to make sure we all bond properly or something.” Tucker waved his hand haphazardly. “You know how moms are.”

That was the perfect trigger for Sam, who huffed expectantly. “Oh yeah, don't even get me started. My mom is still trying to make me bond with Kate. Kate's two years older than me and was the head of her cheer team. Like, hello? You can only imagine what her playlists are like.”

“You should blast some death metal next time,” Danny said.

“Trust me, I have. It's the only way to get her to shut up.”

“Must not be death enough.” Danny flashed his teeth in a mischievous smile. “I’m sure I can help put together a playlist if you want.”

That cocky motherfucker…

Did he enjoy gloating over everyone? Did he really laugh at them when he was alone, all the stupid, idiotic, airhead humans who he thought didn’t notice anything?

Squashing his emotions was suddenly too difficult, and just before the internal tea kettle was able to whistle, Tucker was saved by the bell.

Oh, thank god.

Tucker was out of his seat before anyone else, scooping his notebook from his desk, throwing his bag over his shoulder, and racing out the door before Sam or Danny could catch up.

Still, when against his better conscience he glanced over to his friends, he didn’t miss the subtle look Danny gave him or the green glint in the corner of his eye…

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

If only it was easy.

****

[read more of my work]

[qqueenofhades]

best wishes to anon because i feel this so hard with my parents. it sucks, i can't agree better.

The thing is, queer people are under constant pressure to Be Good Queers. Some of this comes from the toxic online purity culture spearheaded by often-young queer-identifying people who nonetheless deride the word "queer" itself as Problematic and are largely ignorant of the community's history, even its very recent history. (See the constant wank about what kind of queer media is Good Queer Media and what kind of queer representation is Good Queer Representation; i.e. in their minds often sanitized, sexless, devoid of difficult themes or narratives, and not containing anyone except Good Queer People. Bleh.)

The other half of this comes from straight/heteronormative mainstream society itself, especially now that the LGBTQ+ community is once more under such vicious and sustained attack. Individual queer people feel the need to be, indeed, Good Queer People, to put in the work to change harmful attitudes and beliefs, to try to reduce harm to other community members by challenging bigoted attitudes, feeling like it's "their fault" if they don't do so and therefore they might be indirectly responsible for perpetuating harm... etc. etc. It's exhausting, it's draining, and often leads to these people blaming themselves (or uh, each other) individually, instead of the massive revanchist theocratic/homophobic project currently being driven forward in the US by the nakedly fascist right wing. But it's a trauma response to that ongoing desperate effort to re-eradicate us (which they won't succeed at, obviously, but it's scary and will not automatically just go away without major pushback), and it should be seen as such.

Therefore, it's not the responsibility of every single queer person to actively attempt to change the mind of every single bigot they come across. It's just not. Those things rarely rely on logic or well-reasoned conclusions anyway; it's just something they find Icky because the Ideology has told them so. Yes, they can sometimes get past it and re-evaluate those beliefs and realize their harm, but it's also something that person generally has to do for themselves. They don't care about statistics or reality; they don't see the actual people affected by their beliefs as anything more than abstract Threats to something that they "know" is Right and Correct. Again, this can be overcome, but usually not by anyone except the bigot themselves. And it's hard enough out there for all of us to survive and get through the day. We don't need to be pouring constant emotional energy and labor into dealing with bigots who just don't want to hear it anyway. So.

Basically, this is my blanket permission for anyone dealing with a bigoted friend or family member where they feel they have a responsibility to fix their thinking and can't just walk away: you don't. You can walk away and set that boundary for yourself. If you want, you are even allowed to cut off contact and not remain as the Nice Queer Friend who they can use to justify their beliefs ("I can't be homophobic I have gay friends!" etc), or anything like that. It's hard out there right now in so many ways. Prioritize taking care of yourself and fighting the battles that matter, against the enemies who really matter. And never, ever feel guilty for HOW you're queer or how you interpret that or what you do to safeguard yourself, the end. Love, your cranky old lesbian internet spinster aunt/godmother.

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

OC interview

Thanks @theelfauthor here!

Rules: answer the questions in the perspective of an OC!

I think I'll do Akash!

Are you named after anyone?

“Nope. Well, at least, not that I know of, but I don't think so.... Maybe there might've been a distant relative named Akash or something that I've never met, or maybe my parents knew someone named Akash when they were young and thought it was a cool name of something. I dunno, I don't think so, at least as far as I know.”

When was the last time you cried?

“Hahaha... It was...last night, actually, but it's not MY FAULT that it was Carla's turn to pick the movie and she picked the most heart wrenching film I've ever seen in my life!”

Do you have kids?

“... Dude. I'm fourteen.”

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

“Not really. I kinda just call things as they are, and sometimes I'll throw in a joke or something.”

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

“I literally have no idea. I think I just kinda see all of them at once. Not, like, in a deep way or anything. I just don't think I really focus on a specific detail. I guess... hair? I usually notice if someone's hair is better than mine, but that's a low bar.”

What’s your eye colour?

“What do you think? *Blinks slowly* Lovely lovely brown.”

Scary movies or happy endings?

“Sorry, I like happy endings. I scare super easy, and Robbie doesn't let me live it down. But he screams more. I flinch at everything, but on the bigger moments, Robbie is a total wuss. But yeah, happy endings. Sometimes they make me cry, I'm not ashamed.”

Any special talents?

“My middle school choir teacher said I have a good range. I hope that counts. I'm also good at making music playlists. I know how to cook, but I'm nowhere near Noelle's level. Um. I also am decent at pencil doodles, haha. If dragons, mainly. Uh... I... I'm not sure, what can I do? I can... tolerate a bad hair day? Ish. Man, why is this so hard?”

Where were you born?

“I think India, I was told India, but this whole Alium thing makes things very confusing.”

Do you have any pets?

“No, and that sucks! I want a cat.”

What sort of sports do you play?

*bursts out laughing* “No, no, okay, okay... I like watching sports, not playing. I've held the balls before -- NO NO NO NO the sports ball things, I've held those, but I don't play. I love watching baseball, though. Robbie thinks it takes too long, but he always sits next to me and gets the soda and hotdogs and popcorn.”

How tall are you?

“Five-foot-seven, which is an inch above Robbie. And no, I don't let him hear the end of that.”

What was your favourite subject in school?

“English and choir.”

What is your dream job?

“Woah, I've not that far ahead. Uh... No idea. Well, maybe an idea. School wasn't, like, awful, but it was a struggle for me. I think that if I became a teacher, I could make it better for kids like me, y'know? I'd like to give them things I never got.”

Other Akash: OC in three, OC in fifteen, Picrew, kiss, two truths and a lie, questionnaire one, questionnaire two

Other interviews: Wade, Jazlyn, Gwen, Lexi, Carla, Carmen, Maddie, Liam, Ash, Rose

Tagging @sarandipitywrites @dyrewrites @oh-no-another-idea @diabolical-blue @kaseylynnwriting

+ ANYONE ELSE

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

Blanks below the cut

Are you named after anyone? When was the last time you cried? Do you have kids? Do you use sarcasm a lot? What’s the first thing you notice about people? What’s your eye colour? Scary movies or happy endings? Any special talents? Where were you born? Do you have any pets? What sort of sports do you play? How tall are you? What was your favourite subject in school? What is your dream job?

[swearingcactus]

OC INTERVIEW : Lil V :)

thanks for the tag @v-eats-bugs (and @elvenbeard's post that reminded me that I have yet to do this even though I was tagged!) get ready for your local little guy answering some of your q's (this pic was supposed to just be a cover but it does make him look like he's answering these before bed in his jammies, which could fit too)

🔸Name?🔸 "Contrary to popular belief, it's not a pasta brand, but I would neither confirm or deny any guesses."

There's been wild rumors that he's changed his name to Vitoli or Viagra (Jackie's fault for that one) but nope, his name's still Vincent. His last name's Woodman or some other boring generated name hospitals print out for babies with no parents claiming them, so he never went by it. Great decision on his end, cus "Vincent Woodman-or-similarly-boring-sounding-last-name" sounds more like an accountant than a cool merc.

🔸Nickname?🔸 "Just V."

Before Atlanta, some 'friends' burned him and used him as scapegoat for a gig and he landed in prison because of it. His efforts to erase the records and leave much earlier than his sentence bankrupted him; but he got out and decided to wipe his slate clean. What better way to start a new life than with a new (technically just chopped down) name?

🔸Gender?🔸 "🤨📸"

Cis male. But he thinks it's weird if people gotta ask that.

🔸Star sign?🔸 "Aw fuck, I gotta ask Misty for that, I keep forgetting which one I am. Hang on."

This is totally not a cop-out cus i haven't played phantom liberty and therefore am still unsure when is his canon birthday. Either way he doesn't care about it that much.

🔸Height?🔸 "5'8 which I've heard is 173cm."

173cm is NOT 5'8, he's lying or simply getting it wrong, and frankly for night city denizens, that's more amusing to ponder than his height.

🔸Orientation?🔸 "Oh ;) I'm not picky! ;) heheh wait i mean 🤨📸"

Sometimes his excitement at the prospect of getting laid by hot men and women makes him forget to act cool and nonchalant about being bi.

🔸Nationality/Ethnicity?🔸 "I mean I'm pretty sure I gotta be somewhat white, but never knew the detes. Not gonna pay a corpo for them to tell me about it either, cus what do they know?"

He has a paler complexion, but sometimes his features on the right lighting kinda play tricks on you. With him being from Heywood and no parents to speak of, he has no idea if he could actually be part Hispanic or Asian or any other ethnicity. Obviously, he could pay to get some 2077 "hyper-accurate" version of 23andMe but he thinks that's bull and way too easy to fake. Totally just that and not cus he gave up on the idea of biological families anyways, nope.

🔸Fave fruit?🔸 "I dunno, never really had anything 'ganic 'cept some grapes and they were really sour, so probably not those. Pears are okay, I guess."

🔸Fave season?🔸 "Winter. Atlanta sucked but they had better winters."

Atlanta's winter was colder than Night City's, so the idea of spending the holidays just cold and broke with crippling loneliness sounded too horrible. He attempted to avoid this by treating himself to a 'real' white christmas experience, tried ice skating and making snow bunnies when it did snow and got hot chocolate and even bought himself some overpriced present and all that. Atlanta didn't work out, but he did like winter coming out of it, and he gets nostalgic of it when the holiday season come around.

🔸Fave flower?🔸 "Sunflowers. Oh, but cherry blossoms are really pretty too, even when they're just holos."

He doesn't tell this story much, but when he got out of prison, the field next to the road was riddled with dying sunflowers. Nothing welcomed him out of the gutter but those shriveled plants right next to ones that were done blooming couple weeks ago. If he had been able to get out earlier, he could've seen at least some of them in bloom. It should be a bitter thought and memory, but he found walking next to them very comforting. He has a soft spot in his heart for them ever since.

🔸Coffee, tea, hot chocolate?🔸 "Well not coffee, and not tea, so I guess hot chocolate it is. Actually, you have that iced?"

He used to think he's a coffee guy but dating Kerry made him realize the canned coffee he drinks are just sugar with a hint of caffeine flavor. (he hated the black ganic stuff Kerry drinks but powered through that One Time) In general though, he likes cold drinks more than hot ones.

🔸Average hours of sleep🔸 "I'd like to say 8 but I know that'd be lying. Probably closer to 5 or 6."

Don't get him wrong, he gets on the bed. He just scrolls his phone for hours after and doesn't sleep immediately when he gets on it is the problem. He falls asleep closer to 2-3AM, then wakes up at 8 or 9. This is a real issue if he stays the night over with Panam at camp, since the Aldecaldos are mostly early birds.

🔸Dog or Cat person?🔸 "Oh cat, definitely. Have you seen my cat Nibbles?" *queues up 100+ picture slides of her directly to your holo*

🔸Dream trip?🔸 "Antarctica, maybe? Heard it's kinda peaceful over there, and it'd be even colder than Atlanta so hell yeah, could get all cozy, bundled up and waddle around there for a bit."

🔸Fave Fictional Character🔸

to reiterate this post , he found a copy of Toy Story 4 and made fun of how Duke Caboom sounded like a chipper, Canadian version of Johnny. Then the whole 'guy who failed a stunt and got thrown in the trash because of it, is actually deeply terrified about the entire experience but still continues to be a happy dude' hit too close to home.

🔸Number of blankets they sleep with🔸 "??? People sleep with multiple blankets??"

Just one. He gets too cold even with it when he gets even sicker from the relic, so he sleeps with fuzzy socks too now. The idea of two blankets for one person never occurred to him.

🔸Random fact🔸 "Okay, I'm only gonna tell you this 'cus I'm back in Night City, and enough time has passed that no way anyone can actually get anything to stick to me... but back in Atlanta, I used to crash weddings. Not even for gigs, was just trying to avoid spending eddies on meals. It's really easy to just sneak in, especially if you wear some black cardigan, or flash a digital lanyard, or just walk really fast and with purpose. They just assume I'm part of the event organizer or one of the catering team, and let me in. Then you just act like you've been invited, grab a plate and mingle with some guests who don't look important. Was better entertainment than BDs too, hearing all the stuff about the bride and groom from different tables. Sometimes I just let slip some gossip I heard from another group to the current one I'm mingling with, and shit would hit the fan real quick, which means I get to delta nice and quiet. I wish I could stay for more of 'em, Atlanta weddings end a lot more in fist-fights than Night City ones, that's for sure."

Yeah so he might not know or realize this detail, but he most definitely was the reason those fist-fights happen and was part of the reason for the spike in divorce rate in Atlanta for a bit.

phew that was a lot of words. no pressure tagging @mail-me-a-snail @glitchinginthegarden and anyone else who'd like to join but haven't been tagged! :)