#image if they had been in the same school? neither of them would have been lonely! (even though reo met nagi)

[c7arisse]

hi!! could you draw reobachi just hanging out sjjfjgs they are so silly i wish they had more interactions <33

here you go!!

[xomakara]

Can't Help Myself

SUMMARY |  Mingi comes home early from a trip to find his best friend's older sister, you, roaming the apartment in a large shirt and panties. And god, does he want you.

PAIRINGS | Mingi x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked

GENRE |  smut, roommate!Mingi, brother's best friend trope, older woman/younger man trope, non-idol au

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, filthy dirty thoughts, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), female masturbation, fingering, oral sex (male/female receiving/giving), dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, vaginal penetration, kitchen sex, creampie, squirting

LENGTH | 5,744 words

TAGLIST |  ---

NETWORKS |  @illusionnet @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @othersideoutlawsnetwork

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Hi. Hello. This was supposed to be 2-3K words but it ended up longer. It's literally just smut lolol. And those Mingi pics for CK? geezes. Hope you all love and enjoy this. Love you ❤️

In your defense, you thought you were home alone so you didn’t second guess your wardrobe choice before walking out of your room and into the kitchen to rummage through the fridge for a snack. You really should have made sure first though.

You didn’t think much of it when your younger brother Yunho asked if you wanted to get a place with him and his best friend. It was a little more spacious, a lot nicer than your dorm room on campus, and still close enough for you to go to and from school and work easily. You knew Mingi, Yunho's best friend, forever, but when you told your parents they had suggested you take precautions. Mingi may have been a family friend of sorts but he was still male and he would be living there.

Both you and your brother dismissed their worries completely, assuring them Mingi had been like a younger brother, despite the year age gap, growing up and you could count the amount of times you ever heard him say anything even remotely perverted or gross to be none. But despite all this, you all still made a pact with your respective members of the household that your individual bedrooms were to stay firmly shut at all times and privacy would be respected and vice versa.

Earlier that week, Yunho said that he and Mingi would be going on a trip, somewhere with a bunch of their other friends, while the weather was still good. It would have been a trip you would have taken too, but you couldn't. School and work kept you here. You figured you would just catch up with everyone when they came back home.

They left a few days ago, leaving with a loud goodbye before you gave yourself the all-clear, allowing your usual messy, comfortable sleepwear to take over. It was going to be a relaxing day at home with no one there to scold you and you were going to do as you pleased.

Fast forward a few days later and you’re now standing in front of a confused Mingi, wearing nothing more than an oversized t-shirt that hangs off one shoulder and boy-short panties, leaving very little to the imagination.

Both of your arms are frozen, neither able to speak as you meet each other's gazes, Mingi's eyes darted lower as your arms come down in a sudden jerk to shield your exposed form from his eyes. His stare doesn't falter, but rather it hardens, taking everything that he can, burning the image into his brain.

This is Mingi, the family friend who played games with you and shared candies when you were younger. He was the same Mingi you would tease mercilessly as children before asking him, not so secretly, for advice about how to date a guy. This is the same Mingi you danced next to in the living room until both of you became nauseous because your moves had you spinning and twisting faster and faster. And it's the same Mingi you watched slam several cups of beer down like it was water during house parties like it was nothing. He had a bit of a track record for picking up girls with ease, the kind of guy girls looked up to and talked about dreamily whenever they thought no one could hear them.

Sure you had a silly crush on him growing up but you knew Mingi didn't think of you in that way. He treated you like an older sister and it showed. An older sibling was all he was likely to ever see.

But here and now, with the look Mingi is giving you, that all seems to go right out the window. If you thought his stare was hot when it was at eye level, there was no word that could come close to explaining how the scorching temperature went up even more in the downward, suggestive direction his stare had shifted.

For a moment you think you hear a hushed, muffled grunt come out of him, but it's gone as soon as it appears.

"M-mingi?" you mutter, clearing your throat a little. "What are you doing back so early?"

Mingi's expression doesn't change, if anything it seems to darken even more and if it was possible, you are sure he is undressing you even more with his eyes than before.

"Oh, uh...hi, noona. I had to leave early due to work," he says slowly.

You wait for more information, an explanation, something but he doesn't give one.

"... and?" You encourage and your response is an almost devilish-looking smirk. It has a strangely charming effect on you, but at the same time is enough to cause heat to flow through you, settling and concentrating at one very specific spot. You've never seen him look at someone like the way he's staring at you and you are surprised you didn't get caught on fire.

His eyes flick up and down your form slowly once more before locking on yours again and he stands up straight from the door. "It doesn't matter. I'm back now."

Damn. Now you had to go back to being dressed while stuck in the house alone for who knew how long.

"U-uh... okay? Alright, um," you swallow and squirm uncomfortably under Mingi's steady gaze, hoping he doesn't hear the way the breath catches in your throat. "I'm gonna go get dressed."

You wait, feeling incredibly awkward as he watches you without moving, but finally, after a moment Mingi turns and goes in the direction of his bedroom.

“Y/N-noona?” You hear him call out to you as you move away, feet already in motion toward the safety of your bedroom.

“Yeah?” you reply.

He leans against his bedroom doorway and sends a mischievous, somewhat predatory grin at you, causing your entire body to tingle at his intentions.

"You don’t have to cover up if you don’t want to. It’s not fair to you if Yunho and I get to walk around the place shirtless and you don’t. I won’t tell Yunho." he says simply before stepping into his bedroom and closing the door with a soft click.

You let out a deep exhale the moment you shut your bedroom door behind you, pulling a hand up to rest on your chest, feeling the rapid beating of your heart. Your knees felt weak and suddenly the image of Mingi had burned itself so deeply into the back of your lids that every time you closed your eyes, the image of Mingi smirking darkly at you made its appearance, causing a fire to flare up in you.

With a shaky but needy whimper, you find yourself falling into a heap on your bed. You rest a hand flat on your stomach, allowing your mind to fill with images of Mingi, remembering the feeling of his hard, broad shoulders from the hugs you would receive, his defined arms that seemed to give you comfort the times you got them wrapped around your form, and that confident, slightly cheeky smirk you had witnessed him sending at the female population several times.

You make sure the door is locked, not knowing whether you did it out of fear or need before the hand on your belly slowly slides down, fingertips gently ghosting along your lower belly, slowly heading for the cotton of your panties. They dipped below and you let out a tiny sigh at the touch of your hand between your legs. It was a tiny, delicate touch, yet it felt like sparks had erupted all over, tingling down your spine and in between your legs. Your teeth dug into the bottom lip hard in a bid to control your whines as one lone digit traced small circles, building you up.

It's not the first time you have pleasured yourself and had Mingi on your mind while doing it. You can't even count the many nights you spend laying in this very same position, imagining Mingi there. What his kisses would be like. The way his hands would glide along your body, causing you to arch into his touch, craving more contact from his body, while he pressed searing kisses all over your neck and chest, murmuring filthy words only the two of you could ever hear. 

What your mind is occupied with as your hips squirm a little are all the different scenarios you can think of. At first, your movements are small, just small pushes and rolls of your hips against your fingertips. You find yourself wondering what Mingi's hands would be like. How rough would he be or would he want to savor your body, lavishing the soft curves of your body with gentle touch, kisses, and teasing bites until he got closer to where you needed him? Would he be dirty? Would his words be enough to make you blush with his raw, sexual cravings? 

The sounds, oh the sounds he could draw from you.

Your breath hitches when the tiny moans coming from you make their way up and out of your lips and as good as this feels it's still not enough for you. Your imagination runs wild. The Mingi in your mind is taking control now, turning you around, the deft hands moving to knead your breasts, a warm, wet tongue swiping up the back of your neck, moving up until a hot mouth sucked, grazing your earlobe with his teeth.

And when the imaginary feeling of Mingi biting you while one hand trailed down the planes of your body before slipping beneath and your fingers move exactly the way you are fantasizing his hands were, in this situation, you find yourself burying your face in the sheets, doing your best to muffle all the noise coming from you.

One, two, three curling fingers are all it takes, and you have brought yourself to the peak already, the fire inside you burning, scorching even. The small coiling heat within your belly unraveled and you bit your pillowcase as hard as you could, hoping the soft fabric of your bed would block out all of your noises.

As soon as the fire dies out the heaviness of your eyelids overtakes you and it's a struggle to pull off the shirt you wore and slip beneath the blankets. As soon as you're settled though, the comfort and warmth of the bed sheets caused you to fall into a deep slumber. You dream of Mingi, thinking about those fantasies but you aren't waking up anytime soon.

Little did you know that Mingi was dreaming of you, trying to relieve his own arousal.

The next day, you wandered into the living room, this time in lace panties and a scantily thin tank top. Your feet pad slowly on the hardwood flooring of the apartment. A small groan came out of you as your feet padded into the kitchen area, your hair a mess, eyes heavy with sleep and your hands worked on the buttons of the small coffee machine to make yourself something to wake up with.

"Oh, Y/N-noona..."

You jumped, yelping, spinning to see Mingi leaning against the wall, his shirt hanging open, his usual black jeans hanging low on his hips, and his brand-name briefs sticking out above them. He was half grinning, eyes trailing your half-naked form before a smirk tugged on his lips.

"Don't mind me. Keep doing what you were doing," he walked towards the kitchen island to grab a cup for himself, not bothering to close his shirt at all.

You stared at him, suddenly unable to form words, only watching him and swallowing heavily as you eyed him up and down shamelessly. How many mornings have you woken to the same view as today? Yes, Mingi walking around shirtless was not uncommon, and yes, you've always tried to not focus too much on the planes and ridges of the muscles. You stood there, your fingers drumming along the counter, unable to turn away and ignoring the burning at the back of your neck as he turned around to face you, meeting your gaze head-on as you met his gaze.

For what seems like hours it's just you standing in front of Mingi, letting his gaze slide over the whole length of your body as you both stand motionless. You finally seem to break and turn around to do the task of preparing yourself some coffee. You are close, so close. The water drips into the little mug and then a shadow envelopes you from behind, heat spreading across your backside, something heavy against your ass.

Instantly you stiffen and turn your head to see Mingi has moved in close behind you, so close that you can feel his warmth and breathe on your neck.

He wasn't touching you, he was holding himself still, and in the beginning, you are unable to detect whether he is purposely pressed up against you or if his tall body is only bent at such an angle that it leaves your butt right underneath him.

When his hands grip the counter at either side of you, your attention focuses on his hold, noting his position is to have the two of you locked into place and that's when you realize how serious Mingi is with his intentions. He hasn't said anything and neither have you, the only sounds that have left the pair of you are your short gasps and sharp intakes of air.

When he rests his chin on your shoulder, the intimate pose has the effects of a powerful drug and your knees go weak. One long breath enters through your parted lips before his hips press into yours and there was no mistaking Mingi's arousal against your back, how stiff and prominent he was. His body is locked into position and there's no escaping.

But do you want to?

"Tell me to leave, and I'll leave," his voice rumbles low with a husky edge to his tone. "Now's your chance."

It's a challenge, a clear dare like he knows full well you don't want him to leave, even though he offers the option to. It's just a question. 

You decide now.

Your eyes drift down. You know that underneath that expensive-looking underwear and his tight, dark-wash jeans, the cock pressing into you is everything you've ever desired. A muscle twitches under the touch of a hand. Another tense, loud swallow, and you manage to glance to your side.

"Mingi?" you breathed out softly, your words barely above a whisper, so silent that the thrumming of blood in your ears was almost overshadowing your words.

"Hmm?" Mingi answered, turning his head a little, his face now mere millimeters away, and the anticipation you feel makes your stomach flip. Your thoughts are clear. The vision in your mind is real. Your senses are acute, and more sensitive than ever. But for whatever reason, words refuse to come to you. It was one of those moments of wanting to speak, knowing what needed to be said but it was a struggle.

Your lashes flutter and before you know it, your lips capture his.

A low groan vibrated in his chest the instant your mouth came into contact, his eyes sliding shut and arms snaked around your middle, pressing you completely back into him. The hand by your hip clutched you as you turned in his hold and pressed your chest fully into his, fingers sliding into his hair.

The feeling of being up against him like this is sending every single part of you into a heightened state and everything he touches sets your skin on fire. It's a tight embrace and when he lifts you effortlessly onto the kitchen counter you immediately wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him as close to you as possible.

Mingi pulls your head back, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You bite down on his bottom lip and his hands roam every single part of you and every curve your body can offer him. The second he pulls away, a single whine leaves you, already missing him, but at the sight of the look in his eyes, all coherent thoughts go out of your head. You stare up at Mingi who is just looking at you with a glint of smugness in his eye that tells you the guy knows what he's doing to you.

"Want to know something, Y/N-noona?" His deep raspy voice has you staring intently into his eyes as his hands glide down and cup your butt, squeezing the plump globes.

"Uh-huh," is your dazed response, followed by a deep breath. The sudden change in Mingi from a moment ago was impressive and honestly sexy. You swallow, staring into his eyes, the tiniest bit of hesitation, nervousness, and anticipation fluttering around in your belly.

"I've been in love with you since I was fourteen," he mutters, staring at you intently, his hands coming around and grasping the edge of your lace panties. "I stopped thinking of you as an older sister. And then every time I look at you, or think about you, my imagination runs wild and sometimes I can't help myself."

And with that his thumbs dip past the lace, stroking the tender skin there.

"O-oh," you bite your lip and curl your fingers, your mind swirling, intoxicated by the desire in his voice and his eyes. His fingers are still moving and Mingi moves forward, closing the gap between you two, lips pressing into the corner of your mouth as your hands come up, resting on the sculpted pecs that send every thought flying from your head. "Thank god because I've had a huge crush on you for a damn long time, Song Mingi."

Mingi let out an amused chuckle, before giving you a heated look, and the next time he pressed his mouth against yours he was no longer timid and gentle. He is more confident and aggressive, more demanding of what he wants, but you welcome it, giving him exactly what he was asking for, not having the will nor strength in you to push him away.

"Tell me where you want me," he says in between breathy pants against your lips, kissing you once more and his tongue slides into your mouth, reaching for every nook, wanting to be inside you in some way.

His actions, his hands stroking, his kiss, his scent surrounding you...everything has your senses, all of them, overwhelmed and your fingers tighten into his hair, a desperate sound escaping you.

"Fuck Mingi...I need you to eat me out," your words make Mingi give a low groan in the back of his throat.

You barely had a moment to catch a breath before his face disappeared downwards, your thighs resting on his shoulders. Mingi pushed the sheer material of your underwear to one side and slid a finger between your wet lips and let out a moan that sent an electric surge throughout you when he touched your aching clit.

You gasped and squirmed and his name left your lips. You're not quite sure whether your gasps were out of embarrassment or how good he feels but the moment you feel Mingi's tongue stroke against you, all thoughts are replaced by pleasure.

"F-fuck, Mingi" you breathed out shakily.

Mingi's lips curled into a smile, making a 'hmm' sound deep in his throat. Every vibration from that only makes you squirm against his lips and the things he was doing to you, his lips and tongue licking you out like you were his favorite flavor, like he wanted nothing more than to have you all to himself. Your moans were the icing on the cake, rewarding him further as you pushed yourself against him and had no other option but to clutch at his hair and beg.

All sorts of needy words and noises fell from your lips as you closed your legs, trapping him between them, and pulled his face deeper into you as Mingi alternated between licking and suckling you. He continued to kiss and suck on you, pressing his lips flat, open, and covering every bit of exposed skin. Your moans had only gotten louder and needier as you felt your release beginning to build up, getting closer and closer to the edge.

Suddenly Mingi stops and the next thing you know, you're thrown over his shoulders, his strong arms gripping the backs of your thighs firmly and keeping you secure. He threw a cheeky grin your way before carrying you off to his bedroom, using one arm to shut the door behind him before dumping you unceremoniously onto his large, soft bed.

The bed itself was so soft you sunk in a little, his silk, blue-colored bed sheets smoothing the action. This wasn't the first time you were in his bedroom, having gone in and borrowed games or clothes that had been left there. 

But this was the first time being in his bed.

"You look really good laying in my bed, noona. You look like you fit right in this spot," he chuckled deeply. "Let's see if we can make this scene look even better."

He pinned you on the bed and captured his lips to yours and your back arched at how amazing the weight of his body was on top of yours. Maybe it was because Mingi was very tall but laying on his bed, with his body pushing you into it felt nice. Not the sensation of being forced down, but the kind of nice where Mingi's scent, his body, everything just melted you.

A moan ripped through your body when his hands palmed you through your thin tank top. They traced every contour they could find.

"Shit," the man hissed. "You've got great tits."

His thumbs swiped back and forth over your nipples and it took less than ten seconds of the combined work of Mingi's mouth and fingers to turn you into a trembling, pleading mess. Mingi licked his lips and then he slid his fingers down to play with the elastic of your lace panties, the back of his fingers brushing lightly over your soft skin and the smirk never left his face.

"Mingi...can I... can I please suck you off?" Your heart was thumping loudly in your chest, heat bloomed all over your entire body and his face was suddenly pulled into a huge, teasing grin as he crawled up towards the head of the bed.

"You wanna taste it, noona?" He asked. "Go ahead then. Show me what you can do with that pretty mouth."

Your eyes couldn't look away from Mingi's as you moved slowly on your knees to follow him as he sat himself against the headboard of his bed. Without hesitation, your fingertips moved to push aside his undone shirt, exposing more of his bare chest. Leaning down to kiss his torso, his abs contracted while he sucked air in. When your lips met the elastic band of his briefs, you looked up and his eyes were completely focused on yours.

"Noona..." he breathed softly, licking his lips at the sight of your doe-like eyes staring up at him. "Look at you. Take what you want, noona. Do what you need. Use my cock as your plaything, doll."

Fuck. He's driving you crazy. 

The thought of having him like this has been a fantasy of yours, not that you had admitted it to yourself until just now, but your dreams are now becoming a reality. You slipped his briefs down, just enough to free him, letting out a hum in satisfaction.

"All for you, noona," Mingi kicked his pants and briefs off, smirking as he spread his legs out for you, wanting you to get closer.

God, Mingi was gorgeous. Not just because of his features but because he had the personality of an amazing man who made his way into the hearts and minds of everyone who met him. And with a body like that, well... who could resist him? No one you know.

Wasting no time, you wrapped your fingers around the base of him, your tongue starting the journey from the thickest section and licking a path from root to tip, sucking his crown between your lips. Your mouth enveloped the first few inches and you hummed when you were rewarded with a low grunt that told you everything your touch was doing for him was satisfactory.

"Noona. What the...how are you...so...good...?" he was at a loss for words, Mingi's sentence left in broken segments when his tongue got tangled. His reaction, however, was music to your ears. He tried to sound put-together, calm, and collected, yet his grunts and groans weren't lost on your ears as you worked him.

He was thick and hard in your hand, growing harder and longer with every bobbing motion your mouth did along his length. There wasn't anything better to hear than the man's own low, heavy groans when you tried deep-throating him or your name whimpered as a low, almost chant when your pace increased. His head dropped back onto the pillows. He was able to just relax and watch, one hand curling softly into your hair.

"You like it, Mingi? My hot, wet mouth on you? You like watching your big dick disappear in my mouth, babe?" you asked.

"So, you do have a dirty side to you, huh?" His low chuckles send pleasant shivers up your spine and cause heat to coil within your abdomen once again. "Fuck, noona...you're so fucking sexy right now. How the fuck can anyone expect me to act sane in front of you? You look so good sucking me like that. Look at me while you're sucking, Y/N-noona."

"You know...I've always fantasized about taking your cock deep in my mouth," you whispered seductively. His eyes met your gaze, watching as you bent and gave the head of his cock a delicate swirl with your tongue.

"Really, now? What else has my naughty Y/N-noona fantasized about, huh?" Mingi's eyes closed and let the bliss that was his imagination take over, biting his lip with a sexy smirk and looking delicious with how laidback he was.

"Mm, many things," you sucked him into the hot cavern of your mouth. You watched Mingi's chest as it rose and fell. "You fucking me, your cock splitting me open. Stuffing me with your cum. Marking me as yours."

With Mingi's eyes half-lidded, his groans are louder, deeper, and longer. The strokes and motions from your mouth bring him to the edge.

"Are you a squirter?" he asked, his eyes peering down, meeting your gaze again. He looks mischievous, and his tone dripped with lust and suggestion. His head tips back, his hips thrust forward as a deep, rumbling growl tore from his throat.

"Why don't you find out? If you think your cock can make me scream loud enough to squirt all over it," you challenged, one eyebrow raised up at him.

"Challenge accepted, noona," his lips twitched upwards in a lascivious smirk and that is when he sat himself up. Gripping the back of your head gently, he was very clear in his instructions. "Now open wide. Be a good noona, and make sure you swallow everything."

Obedient, you did as he asked, parting your lips and ready to taste every drop Mingi offered you, taking it like the good girl you wanted to be for him. And when it finally happened, the salty tang burst against your taste buds, Mingi growling your name and encouraging you to take everything.

"Come here, sweet thing," he growled, reaching out and grasping at the backs of your thighs, pulling them apart until you straddled him. He tugged your panties to the side before lowering you onto his erect cock, slowly so you could adjust to him. "Damn, you look so sexy with your panties pushed aside and stuffed full of me."

Settling yourself on his lap and stuffed full to the hilt, you grabbed the edge of your tank top and lifted it over your head, throwing it somewhere in his room. Mingi groaned at the sight of your fully naked upper body on display to him and he quickly busied himself by reaching out to run his fingertips over your nipples, making you arch into him, gasping at the feeling and your breathing erratic.

You grabbed the headboard of the bed. "Wanna bounce on your cock, Mingi."

His hips instantly jerked against you at those words, groaning as you slowly rolled your hips to get a feel for the movement before finding the speed and rhythm he liked, panting heavily when his head went up so he could focus his attention on your breasts bouncing and his name leaving your lips. Mingi held a strong grip on your sides to help steady your body before you felt his long tongue flick one nipple before wrapping his lips around it.

You were pushing his open shirt off his body so that you could finally admire how beautiful Mingi's body is, so fit and muscular and he let out a happy sound at how eagerly you were trying to touch every inch of him that's exposed to you, how willing he is to let you do as you wish.

"Look at you taking every inch so perfectly," his voice rumbles deeply, almost in a groan. His fingers trailed lightly up your chest, gently cupping your cheek. The tender gesture only lasted mere moments as you began to roll your hips harder, bouncing faster, moving around him, going in circles, grinding up against him. "You like how big my cock is, Y/N? Like the feel of the my cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy? Does my cock hit just the right place?"

"M-mingi..." you squeaked. He feels so thick, so full, all of it deliciously stretching and opening your wet core in ways you didn't know you needed until now.

He takes you without the need of force, every touch and movement filled with patience, and his groans are husk and raspy and deep, and you keep wondering how someone can even be so vocal. Everything Mingi did had you panting for more, pushing for more.

"Love you, Y/N-noona," the male growled, digging his nails slightly into your thighs before letting his palms glide upward and rest on your ass, squeezing and spreading you apart to give him a full view of you. His breathing was quick and his muscles tense. The room was filled with the scent of sex, both of your heavy pants mingling in the air around you as sweat began to glisten both of you.

“Love you too,” you moaned.

Your fingers brushed the top of his shoulders, trailing upwards and into the silky, damp strands of his black locks as you bucked your hips in response, giving him even more depth in your tight core. Mingi continued to gyrate upwards, keeping up the relentless pace you set. He let out an airy groan every few minutes. His body arched towards you. His grunts were desperate, more guttural.

"Fuck, noona," he groaned. "I could watch you ride me for a lifetime."

"M-mingi," you whimpered, letting out a noise when he squeezed your ass cheeks before he dragged a long lick up the valley between your breasts and flicked one pert bud.

"Look at us baby...so good together," Mingi crooned, taking one of your hands and bringing it down to the apex of your bodies, so your fingers brushed against the part where you joined. "Touch yourself, sweet girl. I want us to cum together."

Doing what you were told, you began to rub tight, frantic circles around your clit, and after only a few strokes, a tingle zinged through your pelvis.

"Fuck..." you whimpered, squinting your eyes shut, feeling the knot of pleasure unfurl. “Mingi, I’m going to cum soon.”

"Cum for me," Mingi urged. "Wanna see you fall apart around me."

He gripped your ass and guided you until it was only the head that was left inside you and his deep grunts increased as he slammed back up into your dripping core, deep strokes in and out of you, hitting the perfect place at each stroke. The familiar tightening in your belly returned, growing stronger, building towards an immense climax. Your walls constrict around him, the man moaning with you at how good you feel when he hits his release, coating your walls white.

"F-fuck! Oh shit, oh my god," you yelped, unable to resist, coming undone, squirting all over him as you'd teased and promised, screaming his name loud and unabashed, squeezing him tight, your arms clasping around Mingi's neck. He lets out a husky, broken laugh before collapsing back, dragging you down with him.

"I never would have guessed," Mingi mused breathlessly, stroking the underside of his spent cock while you came back to earth, "That you were a squirter, Y/N-noona. Of all the other surprises about you tonight."

A laugh, somewhere between exhausted and relieved bubbled out of you. "You...are so fucking amazing, Song Mingi."

There is a smile in his voice as he replies. "It's nice hearing that, especially after the kind of mind-blowing sex I just experienced."

Another moment or two and you begin to shift. You wanted, no you had to, clean the mess you made all over Mingi's amazing abs. Moving as if trying to untangle yourself from the tall male. “God, I need to shower.”

"Nope. If you're going, then I'm going," he gave you a quick kiss before looking down at his mattress. "I need to change my sheets anyway. Can't sleep in this bed."

"Pity that," you let out a little laugh before turning into his warm, naked embrace. A blush forming across your cheeks when his hardened length brushes against you. "I was hoping for more."

He pushed your hair aside, your bare back becoming exposed to his dark gaze. Leaning down, he began nipping at your ear. "Maybe..." he began slowly, "We could, y'know, try it in the shower? Maybe in the kitchen, up against the wall... Your bed...?"

"Sounds...wonderful," you moaned softly. "Where do you want to start, big guy?"

His strong arms encircle your waist, his eyes heated with desire. "Wherever you want."

[jiminrings]

four seven eight, phase 3 (2)

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 9k

glimpse: you’re pushed to the edge after eunsu’s stunt, and it makes jungkook realize that he’s no longer secure when it comes to being a husband and a dad.

alternatively, jungkook goes back to square one with you, but especially with hwayoung.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale — complete series masterlist, from phase 1 to 3 ]

[ angst, fluff, the double-edged desire of wanting more n Being More despite having almost everything, hwayoung being the universe, mentions of eunsu breaking in into jk's hotel room, jus eunsu being a weirdo in general, 478 couple goes old school YIPPEEEE, yoongi as his own warning, eventual redemption ]

notes: heh... i did say it wud get a little worse before everything gets better!!! :O

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Hwayoung keeps staring at Jungkook’s empty spot on the dining table.

“Where’s appa?” 

She looks like a spitting image of Jungkook with the way her brows are furrowed and her bottom lip pouted, clearly confused to why her carbon copy still isn’t here. Hwayoung’s heard your explanation a dozen of times already, yet she asks you again — not because she forgot already, but because she’s in disbelief.

“He’s working, Young-ie,” you smile tightly, cutting up her pancakes once again to redirect her into eating instead of asking where Jungkook is. She eats, even if you don’t slice the pancakes the way Jungkook does (he cuts them up to look like a window with four, almost-perfectly divided slices) and in the same breath, you try not to pull out your phone to ask if he’s already had dinner.

Loving Hwayoung is extremely easy, even if you get choked up from time to time trying to internalize the fact that she’s yours and Jungkook’s. There’s a continuous beep in your chest that rivals the volume of what pedestrian crossings sound like when they turn green; it’s been ringing ever since you found out you were pregnant with Hwayoung and came to the realization that you owe everything (if the world happens to not be enough) to her.

Hwayoung may be a curious, bubbly child, but the extent of her questioning only stops when you tell her that Jungkook’s working. She doesn’t prod any further than that, settling for a generic answer you’d expand on if only you could find the heart to. 

Hwayoung doesn’t ask why you hold her a lot more closely than you’d usually do when you’re asleep or why her oversized sleep shirts lately belong to you and not Jungkook, not because she doesn’t care about the sudden absence of her dad, but because the abundance of you almost makes her forget about her new routine.

Almost.

She goes down from her seat (just like how Jungkook taught her with both hands and extreme care) wordlessly, strolling off with a determined gait, only to return with your cat in her arms like it’s a normal occurrence at seven in the morning.

“What are you doing with Miso, Young-ie?” you question playfully, getting your answer soon enough when she carries Miso up to where Jungkook’s plate would be.

Your daughter seems pleased about the situation altogether, nevermind the fact that the too-chunky-for-her-age cat she’s been spoiling with treats is at the head of the table instead of Jungkook.

Hwayoung’s young. She’s young enough to the point that you can withhold entire truths from her without having to clarify your words. Even more, she’s young to the point that you can’t even tell if she’ll remember this point in her childhood for the years to come.

You can’t tell if Hwayoung will even remember the chunk of time wherein Jungkook’s nowhere to be found and she’s upset about it, nor if she’ll even recall in the future about the way you’re looking at her with so much fondness and desperation at this exact moment — but nevertheless, you want Hwayoung to be young in the same way you want to be honest.

Neither you and Jungkook can withhold anything from her if it means making her happy; even if it means she won’t do something as futile as making a cat a placeholder for her dad.

“Do you miss him, baby?” you hum, feeling for your phone in your pocket as you rub the ridges of its case over and over again while deep in thought. You can’t even tell why you asked that because you know the answer already, regardless of your daughter beaming and nodding her head fervently.

“Do you wanna go on a trip?” you whisper to her ear as if it’s a secret, immediately getting her giddy. You comb through her hair with your fingers as she basically bounces on her seat, already clapping her hands because she knows the word and everything fun that it entailed. “Let’s surprise your appa, hm?”

It’ll just be a last-minute airline ticket purchase, which would happen to be Hwayoung’s first-ever plane ride that Jungkook won’t be there to see because the whole trip’s purpose is to get to him. It’ll just be a rest day or two that you have to coordinate and apologize for over and over again for the potential inconveniences you’ll create. It’ll just be a blip in Hwayoung’s memory soon enough, one you’re uncertain if she’ll even remember, but you figure that it’ll be worth it.

It’ll be worth it because it’s Jungkook, you think as you cram yours and Hwayoung’s belongings into a single backpack with no other luggage in tow.

It’ll be worth it because it’s Jungkook, you rethink while contemplating about how it’s rare for you to be impulsive, but at your fate, with respect to Jungkook, you completely surrender.

It’ll be worth it because it’s Jungkook, you mutter under your breath as you hastily plan with Jimin on the phone about your temporary quick leave, if he can look after Miso, and how to get to the airport without being noticed and most importantly, without Hwayoung being pictured at all.

Your daughter doesn’t know any better about how you and Jungkook go to extreme lengths to protect her, or how the straps of your backpack are digging into your shoulders, or how you’re nervous because it’s her first plane ride and you don’t know how she’ll take it, or how you’re ready to bolt immediately with her in your arms because she’s only yours and Jungkook’s and no one else’s.

You’re not the world-famous and critically acclaimed actress in this long-haul flight; you’re a mom to Hwayoung trying to get her to yawn repeatedly so her ears wouldn’t get clogged, you’re a mom hanging her head down in apology when it’s the fourth flight attendant to approach you asking for a picture, and you’re a mom who just happens to be extremely desperate and humble to beg said flight attendants to help you deplane first so nobody else would look at your or your daughter.

For a split second, or even for as long as you hold Hwayoung and beyond that, you forget the trophies and plaques attached to your name.

You no longer want to be the best when in your arms, Hwayoung’s jet-lagged and fighting through said fatigue, because you’ve convinced not only her but yourself, that it’ll all be worth it because it’s Jungkook.

( ♡ ) 

Hwayoung sleeps in your arms the whole time.

You figure that she’s out cold because you’re wearing Jungkook’s hoodie, knowing better than anyone about how your baby gets completely placated whenever she’s held. It’s heartwarming to see her this way even in such odd circumstances, the fist that’s curled up on your shirt reminding you when things used to be a little more simple.

The stress that’s been accumulating inside your temples threaten to burst and you fear that you’ll be set off by the most miniscule thing while you’re on your way to Jungkook. You’re sleepless and you’re bubbling inside with annoyance and it takes an absurd amount of energy from you to try and contain yourself.

Coordinating with Jimin through the phone makes your nostils flare, even if he’s trying his best to be helpful. Seeing people on the street in large groups, without even knowing the reason why, makes your jaw clench. Even the driver who keeps looking at you on the rearview mirror in concern makes you want to rip your hair out.

You’re frustrated and angry, even if you try convince yourself that Jungkook is worth all the fuss.

“Young-ie,” you whisper, shaking her awake gently. Your free hand’s already gripping your backpack even if you’re still minutes away; if only you had the remaining patience (maybe even optimism) to look at yourself, you’ll see the irony of you being the equivalent of overeager dads you hate on airplanes that immediately stand upon landing, even when the connecting tube to the terminal hasn’t been attached yet. “Wake up, baby. We’re getting closer.”

Everything feels a little heavy. The weight of your backpack is not the problem, and neither is Hwayoung who’s glued to you by the hip.

You have the terrifying idea in the back of your head, locked and loaded for anyone (read: Jungkook) to see if they take the additional second to ask you, that you’ll have to suffer all over again; that you’ll have to establish an ultimatum with a time limit of sorts, just so you can nullify the vacancy in you by pushing Jungkook away again.

Even now, a part of you wonders about Sora. 

She’s no longer a part of your husband’s life, for good this time, yet she occupies your mind every once in a while as if she’s a bad meal on a bad day you have to stomach over and over again. You want to vomit her out completely and rid yourself of the taste of being inferior to who came before you, and yet, she lingers like a stray who knows its home.

You wonder if she’s happy with her life and how it turned out, even if Jungkook’s no longer in it despite being each other’s first for everything. You wonder if she ever thinks about Jungkook whenever it’s April 23 or when she walks past tent bars; if she’s ever married now and has a family like you and her first love do.

You wonder about Sora from time to time because if Jungkook really loved her, you fear that a little bit of it would always linger.

In the same way that you had really loved a multitude of things growing up, little bits of them would always linger even if you’ve sworn off them. 

Your old obsession with tiny bottles of perfume you could only buy from boutiques (and never from malls) resurfaces whenever you visit your parents and magically, they always have a box filled up with your childhood shirts they’ve spared for Hwayoung to wear, imbued with a scent you can place to a memory, but not replicate.

The old fixation you had on patchwork blankets lingers whenever you head to the stockroom to store a PR package you could justify keeping for future purposes, only to see the unopened stacks of shirts you’ve gotten from numerous workshops, countries, and tapings as mementos throughout the years. They sit there in the dust, waiting patiently for you to take notice, but you avert your eyes as to not start a project you can’t bring yourself to finish.

The old liking you had towards the color orange stains on your fingers whenever you peel tangerines for Hwayoung, training a keen eye on her as she holds it for herself while slicing the portions you have at hand for her to eat safely. 

You wonder about Sora and if she ever holds the regret of letting go of Jungkook for someone like you.

You wonder if Jungkook’s love for her, although dissolved and voided already, lingers through the existence of Eunsu — someone who’s much, much different than you, just like Sora was.

Love is not supposed to feel heavy and you stand by it, because holding Hwayoung while carrying the backpack that’s meant to sustain the both of you in a foreign country, just because you don’t want any excess baggage as you surprise Jungkook out of nowhere, has never felt lighter in your heart.

Love is not supposed to feel heavy, even if you wonder why the door to Jungkook’s hotel room is open by itself without needing a key.

Love is not supposed to feel heavy, even if you meet several pairs of eyes that either locks or avoids your own, all for a multitude of reasons. 

“Jungkook,” you whisper, pupils shaking as you instinctively turn Hwayoung’s head away from the sight before you. “What’s going on?”

Your husband, who’s evidently rattled for more reasons than one and is dressed in his pajamas, stares at you head-on with his bottom lip trembling.

His staff members, some of which you recognize, avoid your gaze whilst one of them continues talking on the phone with an apologetic bow.

The members of hotel security, both of which are a little lost in what’s happening because they’ve only been suddenly called to the room of a husband to a celebrity they didn’t catch the name of in a hurry, gasp in realization when they recognize you instantly.

Eunsu, who’s clad in only a silky nightgown that leaves almost nothing to the imagination as she’s restrained to a chair by hotel security, scoffs at your presence.

.

.

.

“It’s not what it looks like, I swear,” Jungkook repeatedly mumbles to you, even if he only catches a shadow of you lingering somewhere as you bounce in between places trying to sort everything out.

“I-I didn’t do anything. We didn’t do anything. I never wanted things to go like this in the first place,” he says to you over and over again, even if you’re on the phone with Jimin to get ahead of damage control if the news ever breaks out.

“I’d never.. I-I’d never cheat on you, Y/N. I’ll never hurt you,” your husband whispers to you like a broken record, running his thumb over your knuckles to try and get you to calm down as if you’ve lost your cool for the past two hours.

The whole thing’s been foiled.

Neither you, Jungkook, or even the staff can even think about the short film’s immediate downfall without it even being released yet because from the get-go, it had already been a raging wildfire with Eunsu in it.

There’s no talk about the film. 

There’s no talk about the hours, efforts, and even money wasted on it because all that you could think about— all that everyone who knew of the situation just now could think about, is how Eunsu broke into Jungkook’s hotel room to seduce him.

There's no talk about the unspoken rule in between the staff to tiptoe around their executive producer’s wife, and most especially his daughter. It’s no secret that the two of you dropped in unannounced (they recall Jungkook being miserable so they knew there was no way he could predict his family was about to surprise him), and yet with the way they give you space and nothing but humility, you’d mistaken them for devoted fans.

There’s only hushed, cordial conversations between everyone to keeps things up to date and under wraps. There’s only gratitude, pity, and assurance thrown your way about how they never liked Eunsu in the first place and how you were such a good, filial wife and mother to clean up the mess attached to Jungkook’s name whilst keeping Hwayoung close to you the entire time.

“She’s detained by the police now. I’ve already called up lawyers back at home. We’re pressing charges,” you say, finally standing in one place. “I have Jimin drafting everything in place in case word gets out.

You’ve been going back and forth trying to sort everything and everyone from the police, to the hotel security, and even Jungkook’s staff — even if you’ve already vacated Jungkook’s room for the three of you to be transferred to a different room in a different hotel entirely, not once have you set Hwayoung down.

You haven’t even let him hold her once since landing here.

Jungkook’s shaking in anger, or atleast whatever it is that drowns him whole even if his head is only submerged in between his knees as he tries to breathe. He’s spoken perfectly and concisely when he was asked for his statement. He’s spoken without a hitch when asked for his honesty, and he hasn’t even faltered once when he asked for the footage of Eunsu seducing a receptionist to break into his room to support his rock-solid testimony.

Jungkook even cussed Eunsu without stuttering as she basically confesses her crime (while cursing you, who didn’t want to look at her, in the process) whilst being dragged away by the cops.

Ironically, the only people who had everything going on for him whom he momentarily tried to distance himself from, are the first people to his rescue. The bed in the new room is more than massive, yet you don’t even lay Hwayoung on it; she’s still in your arms that are screaming to give out, and the backpack you’ve packed for the both of you is yet to be opened, sitting on the opposite side of the room to Jungkook’s massive luggage.

Everything has failed and collapsed around Jungkook, yet it’s you who cleans up after him.

.

.

.

You only let Hwayoung sleep on the bed once you needed to book separate flight tickets.

“It’s not a problem for me. We’ll be less recognizable together,” Jungkook answers quickly when you question him if he could take Hwayoung back while you get on a later flight.

He’s snappy this way, trying to ignore the raging pounding on his head that you’re upset with him; that perhaps not only were you disgusted with him, but you were also exhausted of him entirely.

There’s a massive knot in Jungkook’s throat that doesn’t want to untangle in the slightest. He feels like he’s about to choke on nothing because he rethinks that he has no right to feel tired; that he has no right to close his eyes for even a second because you haven’t slept for a day and even longer, and that he has no right to feel this low when he’s dragged you down even lower.

You only nod quietly at his answer, clicking on your phone without meeting his eyes as you blow money on last-minute flights without even flinching.

“You okay?” 

You ask softly, the bags under your eyes more evident under the warm lighting. You’re sitting on a chair at the corner of the room like you’re a complete stranger while Jungkook’s sitting on the edge of the bed like he’s only a familiar guest. 

It’s only Hwayoung in this room who’s acting as if she belongs here. 

Right now, it’s only your daughter serving as the common denominator that you have with Jungkook — with her asleep, your husband can’t even tell if he’s on the same ground with you. 

“Did she touch you anywhere?” you add, slouching on your knees. You’ve never laid back since you’ve gotten here, the fear that something bad would happen to you or anyone in your family if you took your eye off the ball for the slightest second overtaking you.

Even after you’ve cleaned up Jungkook’s mess, it’s you who tries to reach out; it’s you who tries to keep everything and everyone together, even if it’s by the thinnest thread that incessantly digs into the palm of your hands, even tighter than how your wedding ring could.

“No, no. She didn’t even get close. I just… I immediately yelled so the staff nearby heard,” Jungkook answers truthfully, shaking his head slowly in the process.

You say that it’s a relief nothing else happened, and reiterate that you and Jimin have all exits covered.

You say that you’re sorry that it happened to him, and reiterate that you’re pressing charges.

You say that you’re there in case he wants to talk about it more, and reiterate that he has to wake up early so he and Hwayoung could go on the first flight back home.

Jungkook feels extraordinarily guilty. He feels so much regret in his stomach that he wants to throw up because your contained frustration for him is unbearable to the point that it brings him to tears.

"Give it to me," he inhales sharply, shoulders trembling as he buries his face in his hands. "Just give it to me."

“What are you talking about?”

"Why won't you yell at me?!” Jungkook sobs painfully, his own hand slapping down on his mouth as he tries to keep his volume down so Hwayoung could keep sleeping. He feels as if he’s tethering over the edge the longer that you look at him stoically, his fingernails digging to his palms roughly to the point that he draws blood. ”Why won't you tell me I told you so? Why can't you tell me that I had it coming?"

Everything and everyone except you is falling apart around Jungkook, and it brings him to his knees.

“Do you want me to punish you? Is that it?” you ask, clenching your jaw until it aches. 

Jungkook looks miserable this way. He looks like a devastated sinner awaiting judgement from a god whom he once lost his faith to. He looks like your husband begging, not for forgiveness, but for something more painful for as long as you feel compensated for what he’s caused you.

“You want me where to hit you where it hurts, Jungkook?” you laugh dryly, making him raise his head up as he nods slowly yet definitively, the tears on his face not close to stopping.

You say nothing while Jungkook expects everything, your husband unable to decode what you say under your breath as you turn your back on him to go shower.

You get out of the bathroom eventually, finally seeing that he doesn’t have his forehead touching the carpet.

Instead, Jungkook’s passed out from crying and has himself curled up into a little ball on the same chair you’ve sat on just awhile ago, with your clean change of clothes pressed on the bed right next to your daughter.

( ♡ ) 

Jungkook looks for you in everybody but he finds you in no one.

He woke up far earlier than his alarm (not that he had been in a deep slumber anyway) and the perpetual ache all over his body reminds him of that, his eyes glazing over you as if it’s the last he’ll see of you for decades.

Hwayoung stirs awake at the same time that he does, and for a moment, Jungkook thinks that everything’s okay.

For a split second, he mistakes today as one of your workdays wherein he wakes up early to prepare you your breakfast and it just happens that Hwayoung wanted to be a joey to a first-time kangaroo mother. He mistakes your little family in this hotel room to be a perfect one, wherein his only biggest hurdle in life is to keep his daughter inside his do-it-yourself sling while trying not to overcook your fried rice.

Apparently, Jungkook mistakes everything and everyone to be in favor of you, of him, to the point that he had deliberately ignored your plea to work with Eunsu all this time ago, and that decision of his has majorly, if not completely, undone everything you tried to work on for your family.

He tries to find you in the elderly lady who looks at him in pity as Hwayoung cries while they’re in first class seats, the shallow breaths he tries to ground himself to (so he wouldn’t panic and text you in fear of bothering you) doing nothing in the long run.

Your husband tries to find you in the foreign flight attendant who despite not knowing him or whom he’s married to, offers to hold Hwayoung as she explained that she’s a mother and also has a toddler at home.

Jungkook tries to find you in the remnants of your perfume on his daughter’s shirt. Hwayoung’s already stopped crying after some time of being cradled by the flight attendant, and the sight of his daughter calming down because of a stranger (who is obviously better than him) makes him want to be ground to a fine powder for everyone to walk over.

He feels ashamed in a way that he can’t even put into words. Jungkook feels far too inadequate, far too undeserving, and far, far pathetic that he fears not even his constant apologies to you would ever be enough.

Jungkook feels ashamed even when you take the last flight home and you go through the door like nothing’s wrong between the two of you, simply because Hwayoung’s watching. He feels like a dog fetching you your house slippers automatically but he wants to be reduced to something more filial; something a little more loyal to the point that it’s pathetic.

Your husband is ashamed even when you’re not awake and he can’t see your eyes avoiding his whenever your daughter’s not around.

Jungkook holds you tighter in his sleep, going so far as to kneel by the side of your bed instead of reaching across you, so Hwayoung wouldn't be caught in the middle — even if she’s already been since the start.

( ♡ ) 

Outside of you and Jungkook, only Jimin and Yoongi know about what happened.

You have your pride holding you back from telling your parents because in the back of your mind, there still lies the instinct of wanting to protect Jungkook, your own family, from the family that raised you.

You have no one to confide to except for your manager, who’s technically obligated to know what’s been going on with you when you suddenly call him up to tell that you’re surprising Jungkook in the US, only for your next call to consist of you asking for his help in a terse manner– and your best friend, who’s the first person Jimin calls whenever you’re in need of serious assistance.

There’s been no headlines of Eunsu breaking in and entering Jungkook’s hotel room, along with the follow-up details of how you and your daughter (whose existence is known but her privacy maintained to the highest level you can maintain) arrived as a surprise, only to be confounded by the very scene of your rival in a nightgown, held back by guards.

You know it’s going to come eventually.

You know the telltale dread that fills you up when something far bigger and beyond you is on its path to overtake you. The articles, the scrutiny, and the discourses haven’t even entered the stage yet you already feel sick because this time, it’s not only your name that’s going to be dragged into a situation you never thought would happen.

It’s also your daughter’s.

“We need to talk about Hwayoung,” you approach Jungkook as soon as you come home after your overtime, stilling in your tracks when you see Hwayoung sleeping in her pen.

Jungkook’s eyes linger on her before looking at you properly this time, the knot on his throat loosening at the prospect of what’s been bothering his mind repeatedly, but with the promise of a solution that he hasn’t arrived at, yet is bound to hurt him nonetheless.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

You sit on the far end of the baby blue floor couch as if you and Jungkook don’t share a home together.

“We look okay to her now but still,” you pause, looking down on your feet that are bruising from the heels you’ve been filming with all day and night. “I don’t want to put her in the middle of… everything that thisis.”

Jungkook nods, not only because he understands, but because he’s aware of everything, all the way from the guilt of being a husband to the guilt of being a dad. 

“She’s bound to ask questions too, and even if she’s not asking them now, I feel bad having to keep her in the dark.”

“She’s still young, Jungkook. I never thought I’d say this, but I mean,” you sigh, shrugging defeatedly as you try to look for the right words. “If we keep including her in situations that she shouldn’t be a part of, we’re only bringing her closer to harm. For all we know, someone somewhere has a picture of her during the trip.”

“I-I tried my best. I moved as fast as I-…”

“I know. I also tried my best when we took the trip to you,” you exhale heavily, trying to wrap your head around the complexity of the past week alone; you can’t even understand why you pushed yourself to go back to work immediately after going back home. “I’m not saying that Hwayoung’s known already. I’m just considering the possibility because we could never be too sure.”

Jungkook knows you’re trying to get rid of the guilt that forms in him for that matter, but for everything else, he knows better than to assume of you.

“Do you…” he swallows. “Do you also think that Hwayoung needs a breather from us? Not the other way around, of course, but you know-…”

“I know what you mean,” you nod your head, the guilt of being a mom to a Hwayoung coming easily these days. “It’ll be good for her to be around other people. To be away from what we have going on.”

You and Jungkook share a guilt that’s only unique to having Hwayoung under your circumstances, and it’s a burden you want to get rid of without ever hurting her in the process.

“We can’t have my parents babysit. They read me easily and I don’t want them to know,” you confide, making your husband hang his head in shame even if it wasn’t your intention.

“My parents can’t either. They went on a cruise.”

“I don’t trust nannies,” you add, making Jungkook nod deliberately.

“Who can we trust then?” he sighs, rubbing his hand all over his face as he tries to scour his brain for people. “Who do we have in our lives that Hwayoung trusts too?”

Your head tilts after a few seconds in realization, and Jungkook’s mind drifts to his daughter’s godfather whether he likes it or not.

You and your husband have the same idea in mind, with one being less fond of it than the other.

“I’ll call Yoongi.”

( ♡ ) 

“I want to be your personal assistant.”

Jungkook says in one breath, right in the middle of making your lunchbox. 

You woke up early in the first place because you neither thought nor expected for him to do it for you, but with the way he’s nearly done and making more than necessary, you’re clearly due to be corrected.

Without Hwayoung to tend to, Jungkook itches to have a purpose. He wants to be needed even if he isn’t and the thought always springs up on him whenever his girls are by themselves. The use of him, although not always necessary, is what keeps Jungkook up on his feet these days, nevermind the excruciating guilt and desperation of wanting to make it up to you.

He almost always came to accompany you to your shootings before Hwayoung came around and he’s reminded of it as he packages your meal, his shaking pupils meeting your own that are only begging for any sort of explanation.

It’s not that you don’t want Jungkook to try — it just happens that it’s been awhile since it was only, truly the two of you.

“Why?"

“Because I want to,” he merely shrugs, and when he steps out of the kitchen, you only keep your frown to yourself as you realize that he’s already dressed for the day.

Jungkook doesn’t invade your space like he usually does but he sits close enough to you on the drive to your shooting location; enough for you to feel the warmth that radiates from him without being overwhelmed.

It’s been more than a long time since this happened that you’ve practically forgotten what it felt going to work with Jungkook.

You forgot how your husband steps out of the car first to hold all of your things in one hand with the other reaching out to help you down. 

You forgot how he has a natural scowl on his face and how despite your staff knowing that you’re already married (and to him specifically), they can’t believe the sight of the two of you together.

You forgot how Jungkook likes to hang around you as if he’s a dog with only one owner in any place he can call home as long as he’s with you, that you forget to tell Jimin that you haven’t told your husband about the upcoming press conference at all.

Without even trying, Jungkook overhears Jimin (who’s giving him the cold shoulder) going through your schedule for the next two weeks, his jaw grinding at the particular event that he already knows is important without any explanation—

Without any heads-up from you at all, it seems like.

Jimin’s already left your trailer several minutes ago but Jungkook’s eyes are still fixated on the chair he sat on, his eyes looking past the flooring and deeper into the ground that he wants to be one with out of disbelief– out of shame, even.

You always told him about your schedule and you didn’t leave anything out — it’s only now when it dawns on him that you haven’t been telling him about your work at all.

“Do you not want me there?” he asks, his voice thick with confusion. “Are you embarrassed of me or something?”

“It’s not like that, Jungkook.”

“Then make me understand,” he pleads with the hint of despair, the disbelief that coats his tone all throughout being entirely transparent.

You didn’t plan on how to break the news to him. You didn’t plan on letting Jungkook know about the media event at all.

There’s no other response that springs up to your throat except for the one that only exists since he’s had that drunken fight with you. 

“Because I don’t want you to ruin it again for me, okay?” you lick your lips, going more and more breathless the more that Jungkook mirrors how you looked back then when you begged him all those years ago. “Because the last time that I had a big press conference like this, you ruined it for me too.” 

The thought of Sora, and then Eunsu, and then Jungkook himself come hand in hand, and you wonder when will you stop suffering from the though process that haunts you whenever you’re reminded of press conferences — of your entire work in general.

“I don’t want to be reminded that you hate the life I gave you.”

Jungkook feels the urge to tuck his head in between his knees again, but he doesn’t want to run away this time.

“I said I’m sorry,” he surrenders as he lacks the words he had been telling you in numerous variations for the past days and weeks.

He didn’t think it had hurt this bad the last time around.

"And I only forgave you because it seemed right at the time," you clench your jaw, your exhale being more shaky than you expected. “I only forgave you because I had Hwayoung in my mind."

( ♡ ) 

Jungkook’s getting back into the groove of being by your side at work.

You’re still not fully adjusted to the sight of Jungkook during tapings, all while he moves about like it’s always been in his nature to assist you. He’s overeager in a lot of things, so much so that his presence practically attracts more attention than you do on set. 

It was just yesterday when Jungkook hollered and clapped his hands loudly after you say a long, emotional line before the director said cut and before your co-star could even say her line next, which led to you having to re-do the scene.

It was just two days before when he audibly groaned when an extra had to whistle at you for a scene and literally walked right into the set with his fists clenched, forgetting entirely that you were filming and that a random guy just didn’t catcall his wife in front of him.

It was just two minutes ago, when you ban Jungkook completely from watching you act.

“I’ll do it,” he perks up at the stylist as if he hadn’t been sulking to you just two minutes ago, his hands already fixing themselves on your arms to get you to stand up.

“Jungkook-…”

“But Mr. Jeon-“ she squeaks, about to say her thrice-rehearsed piece of doing her job (everyone on set has been warned about your husband making them jobless) when Jungkook basically carries you to your dressing room.

“No, no, I said I’ll do it!” he practically squeaks, setting you down wordlessly with a giddy smile on his face.

Jungkook’s too good at getting back into the groove of being by your side, you almost forget that the two of you aren’t entirely okay.

He gets you into your gown with utmost care (albeit a little confusion along the way), his hands caressing you with the familiarity that only he carries. Jungkook carries a weight with him that settles when he touches you in any which way, the weariness of his fingers dispersing as soon as you give him the slightest attention.

He may have looked stupid pretending he didn’t know how corsets worked or how petticoats are worn first before the actual gown, but his denseness had atleast bought a little more time from you.

A little more warmth.

Jungkook looks at you intimately, not in the way that’s begging for you to want to jump his bones, but in the way that he knows who you hated throughout the workday while having his warm hands work on your calves.

He knows every inch of you, which may be the reason his hands feel warmer on you than you recall, all the way to the tips of your toes that feel trapped all of a sudden.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I think they’re gonna swap out my shoes anyway because they won’t be seen,” you murmur, trying to avoid the heels and the pain they bring but not until he hushes you.

“I’m not putting on your heels. I’m putting on your socks.”

“I don’t need socks.”

“Your cold dogs keep rubbing up on my legs at night whenever you forget to put them on,” he snickers out of nowhere and it brings out a sudden snort from you, the brief and unorthodox moment hanging over you whilst the two of you gloss over the fact that not only have you not been intimate for so long, but you’ve also not cuddled despite sleeping in the same bed.

Jungkook walks you to your set with his hands raised in surrender, already murmuring to your worried director that he’ll stay out this time as soon as he finishes taking you.

“Wait,” he squeaks before turning back to you, making everyone else hold their breaths to see if they could retain their jobs today. Jungkook carefully removes your wedding ring that you forgot to stash, wearing it snugly on his pinky instead. “Just for safekeeping.”

( ♡ ) 

Jungkook’s not fond of the rain.

He’s not fond of it especially when your job requires you to stand under it.

“Your hazard pay should be ginormous for the work they’re making you go through,” he mutters, holding up an umbrella for you as some stylists make quick work of already pre-soaking you before the scene starts.

“It’s just a little rain,” you roll your eyes, about to shove your hands in your pockets because it’s getting a little cold already yet Jungkook notices before you even could, holding both of them with just one massive hand as he leans the umbrella more to your side.

“They should cancel the filming today. It’s pouring,” he continues like he’s never heard you, even if the rain isn’t terrifyingly bad. The weather’s only fitting because the scene calls for it, but even so, Jungkook feels hesitant.

He lets go of your hands for a brief second to retrieve the handkerchief that’s tucked to the waistband of his pants, already unraveling it for you in waiting.

“Blow.”

“What?” you narrow your eyes at him, looking down on the fabric until it finally hits you in realization.

“Blow your nose,” he nudges you, nodding his head to it but it only makes you shake your head even more.

“No way!”

“Just blow your nose now so you wouldn’t feel stuffy later.”

“I’m not gonna feel stuffy later. It’s just a little rain,” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms together as you beg internally for the lighting to be fixed so you could shoo your husband away.

“Blow your nose while I’m still asking.”

“Ew, no. I’ll look like a child in front of — Jungkook!”

Before you could even comprehend it, Jungkook’s already pinching your nose with the handkerchief, forcibly making you blow your nose, uncaring of the swooning and oddly endeared eyes trained on the two of you.

“Just a little rain. Heh,” he mocks, folding the handkerchief back up with one hand to tuck back into his waistband. Jungkook moves on like it’s nothing, begrudgingly leaving you alone without an umbrella, but not without raising his voice enough for the other staff to hear. “I’ll try to scare your management into raising your hazard pay.”

( ♡ ) 

Jungkook likes peeling fruits for you and Hwayoung.

He doesn’t like the sticky residue nor the lasting smell that gets stuck underneath his fingernails, but he manages. He’d only eat your leftovers and he wouldn’t do it for himself anyway, even if he knows you always get a little irked by the fact.

It’s his habit now to cut fruits for you in the most Hwayoung-tolerable slices possible, the bowl of tinily-cut tangerines underneath your hands as you skim through your script making him uncharacteristically silent; if he wasn’t apologizing to you, you would be talking each other’s ear off about Hwayoung.

He tries not to make a big deal out of brushing your hair because it’s been a while since the last time, instead reading your script along with you so he’ll be distracted. Jungkook doesn’t know if he can focus as hard as you do or remain like so for even longer, but at the moment, there’s only one line on the script that stands out to him.

It stands out, not because it’s long nor vulgar, but because the line belongs to him.

“That scene — will it be filmed today?” Jungkook asks, breaking the silence as he traces the words with his finger.

“Huh? This one?” you follow to where he points, shaking his head as you try to remember. “No. It’ll be next week, I think. I’m just memorizing in advance.”

Jungkook hums but it’s not out of interest, the sound that comes from him instead bordering on a wince. There’s a terse look on his face that you could only liken to jealousy, the thought of it unexpectedly making you snicker.

“Calm down, Jungkook. It’s not a kissing scene.”

“But you say I love you to him, though.”

“That’s worse?”

“Maybe. Probably,” he shrugs, the uncalled-for thought about what he’d feel if there’s a scene where you have to have (read: acting to have) sex making his throat close up painfully. “I can’t tell.”

The thought crosses your mind too, but you’d rather not dwell on it.

“How do I look like when I say I love you?”

Jungkook purses his lips, pausing from brushing out the section of hair he’s passed through more than ten times out of distraction (read: devastation).

You look like love itself if it had been personified. 

You look like an unexplainable feeling in an interrupted dream he had been born with, and his sole mission in life is to seek you.

You look like what miracles do and he’s the first witness each and every time until you’re canonized by everyone, except he always wants to place himself at your feet as your first devotee.

“I know exactly what you look like when you tell me you love me,” Jungkook answers. “But I don’t want to tell you.”

“Why not?” you laugh at his defensiveness, replacing your gaze on him through the mirror just to crane your neck up at him so you could see his reaction more closely.

“Because you only have to act it out,” he shrugs, eventually laughing along with you even if he means every word. “I want to be the only one that knows what you look like when you’re saying the truth.”

( ♡ ) 

It’s your first good day in a week and a half.

It’s actually the first day wherein you and Jungkook talked simply because you wanted to; the first day wherein your conversations didn’t revolve around Hwayoung and pestering Yoongi to send more pictures of her, and the first day wherein Jungkook didn’t try apologizing.

You hum in content as you sit on the couch as soon as you come home, your husband following suit and sitting next to you instead of giving you space.

There’s only a centimeter worth of distance between your hands placed on the couch, and if Jungkook only twitched in faux accident, his pinky (the one that still wore your wedding band) would be brushing yours already.

“It’s like we’re kids again,” you smile to yourself, looking around the entire house. You remember how your ceilings didn’t used to be this high and how your space didn’t used to be this wide — you remember how you and Jungkook weren’t always like this.

“We are kids,” he emphasizes, playfully rolling his eyes.

“Aren’t we pushing thirty?”

“I don’t wanna go into details right now,” he murmurs, slouching further into the couch and nearer to you, his hair that’s growing past his ears lightly brushing against your shoulder.

Jungkook looks around the house too, his eyes glazing past Hwayoung’s playpen, the laundry of a family of three that he’s yet to fold, and the toys of a cat who hates him that he has to sort out soon enough.

Jungkook’s life wasn’t always this way and although he appreciates the fact, he’s terrified by the possibility that it’ll be this double-edged sword that’s waiting to happen.

In the same way that worship is optional but devotion is necessary, Jungkook tries to hold you as tightly as he could without pushing you away.

“Baby,” he rasps out, chewing on his bottom lip as he tries to make sense of the ache that blooms in his chest. “What if…”

“What’s in your head, Kook?”

In the same way that devotion is necessary but worship is optional, Jungkook toes the line with a question that he has no telling what the answer is to.

“If you had the option to have Hwayoung with someone who isn’t me,” he clears his throat, trying to get rid of the immediate pang in his heart that follows.“Would you still have her?”

You think for a second and answer immediately, even if Jungkook wanted you to stay silent for longer because he’s afraid of what you would say.

“That’s not Hwayoung then.”

“No but I mean hypothetically, if you could have Hwayoung-…”

“I got what you meant the first time,” you interrupt him, gently shrugging him to get up from your shoulder so he’d look at you without running away. “That’s not Hwayoung,” you mumble, trying to keep up with the myriad of thoughts that he had opened up. “Hwayoung’s only Hwayoung because she’s part me and part you.”

Jungkook nods, except he doesn’t understand. You could say your piece over and over again, but Jungkook still wouldn’t understand because he doesn’t know what he wants to hear from you either.

“But what if she has all of you and you could pick someone else to be her dad,” he croaks, looking down on the floor with a grief that belongs only to him. “Would you still want her?”

“I want Hwayoung because she’s my daughter with you, Jungkook,” you sigh. “I could pick someone to be her dad and that someone is you. I already chose you — what’s hard to understand about that?”

You hear Jungkook asking you the question over and over again, even if his mouth is already shut. You see him looking at you with tears in his eyes even if they’re downcast on the floor in reality.

You feel yourself wavering even if you’re definite about your answer.

“You made me a mom and I made you a dad.”

“But I doomed us into this,” Jungkook weakly counters. “If only… i-if only I changed my ways earlier, if I — if I could’ve been just content with this perfect life you built for us, t-then we wouldn’t be-…”

Jungkook inhales sharply, the choke that soon follows ringing in your ears to the point that it pricks tears from your eyes. 

“We wouldn’t be in this situation, Y/N. I turned us into this,” he sobs. “If only I could’ve been s-satisfied, Hwayoung would be in my arms at this time while we wait for you to come home,” Jungkook shakes his head painfully, the clench of his fists evident even when you’re only looking at him from the corner of your eye. “If only I thought everything you— you spoon-fed me was enough, then Yoongi, of all people, wouldn’t be babysitting our daughter right now,” he pauses. “Why can’t I be in your press conference?”

You don’t have to look anywhere in the house to realize that Hwayoung’s playpen is empty.

You don’t have to tune anything out to realize that Hwayoung isn’t here in between the two of you, talking and giggling as you go about your day while you’re still wearing your outside clothes; while she’s still in her pajamas because she wanted to wait for you to come home.

The gravity of everything hits you all at once, making you hiccup in tears.

“You were really mean, Jungkook.”

In the same way that worship is optional but devotion is necessary, Jungkook listens to you even if it’s you cursing him.

“I’m not the best mom there is because I’ve missed so much milestones. I… I-I’ve missed so much trying to secure everything for you, for Hwayoung, f-for us because I don’t know how much more I could take,” you sob, burying your face in your hands. “Do you know how hard it is for me? Do you know how hard it is for me to work alone while knowing that my husband and daughter have each other at home? That I don’t have someone while I put myself out there?”

There’s a strain of grief in your heart that only you carry, and Jungkook can’t do anything about it.

“I feel so, so, s-so fucking guilty, Jungkook!” you shriek, your cheeks turning blotchy the more that you cry. “I-I… I had to pick up this child— this child actor— over and over again because my fake role is to be his mother,” you strain a laugh humorlessly, trying to screw your eyes shut so you wouldn’t see Hwayoung’s laundry from the corner of your eye. “Meanwhile, I can’t even hold my own child because her appa’s already taking good care of her at home.”

In the same way that devotion is necessary but worship is optional, Jungkook takes it, takes you, should this be his punishment.

“Jungkook, if you envy me, then you don’t know how much I envy you more,” you exhale in defeat, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “If only I could, do you think I wouldn’t drop everything just to stay at home with you and Hwayoung?” 

“You could be mad at me all you want, Jungkook, but I still don’t want you to go to the press con.” 

“It’s different now, Y/N,” Jungkook whispers, his eyes rubbed red and raw as he pleads with you silently because no word, no litany can save him now.

“But how different is now from then? It’s like we’re kids again, Jungkook,” you whisper. “If you were the one in my place, would you drop everything if I asked you to?” you add, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Can you drop everything if I asked you to?”

( ♡ ) 

In a dream Jungkook doesn’t tell anyone, he’s never met Sora, and you happen to be his first everything.

In a dream your husband doesn’t tell anyone, he doesn’t know of Eunsu’s existence, and if he were to know about her, he only happens to think about her as your rival and nothing more.

In a dream he doesn’t tell anyone, he didn’t wake up late in your bed, and he most certainly heard Yoongi ringing the bell eagerly because he wanted to take Hwayoung home to see the both of you before you go to your press conference.

Jungkook bounds down the stairs so quickly that he almost trips on the way down. His hair is still unkempt and his shirt remains askew, yet he still goes down anyway with a speed you can’t even decipher because he’s already heard his daughter cheerful screaming.

"Up, up!" Hwayoung claps her hands, looking at Jungkook’s direction but not at him — instead, she’s looking at Yoongi who’s emerging from the kitchen.

In a dream Jungkook doesn’t tell anyone, Hwayoung doesn’t know anyone except for you and him.

“Up, appa! Up!”

In a nightmare that Jungkook’s experiencing in real time, Hwayoung mistakes Yoongi as her dad.

[moosesarecute]

Day 7: Free

@azrielappreciationweek

Neither Cassian or Rhysand knew why Nuala and Cerridwen insisted on getting Azriel home from his mission as fast as possible.

They did not know that Azriel had the same agreement with all of his spies.

If anything dangerous, anything at all, happened in Ironcrest, they would tell him immediately.

Because Ironcrest was where his entire heart lived.

“But if it’s something important about Ironcrest, we would need to know,” Rhys tried to get the twins to speak.

They just looked at each other and in the end nodded in agreement.

“There has been a rebellion in Ironcrest,�� Nuala spoke.

Cassian felt his entire body freezing. What? How did that happen? They had been watching the males in Ironcrest for months now!

“The leaders tried to clip one of the girls’ wings and all of the females in the camp went together to stop them,” Cerridwen continued.

The females rebelled against the males. This was not good. Cassian couldn’t image all the terror the females must have gone through.

“They’re all locked inside the leader’s house and all the children they could find is locked inside the ‘school’” Nuala explained.

Rhys had heard enough.

“Cassian,” he started and Cassian knew immediately that this was the High Lord speaking. “Get as many illyrians you can and make sure they’re on our side. We need to intervene before this gets too out of hand.”

Cassian stood up and was ready to leave when Azriel rushed through the door.

“What’s going on?” He asked looking directly at Nuala and Cerridwen, but it was Rhys that answered.

“There has been a rebellion among the females in Ironcrest,” Rhys stated in his neutral High Lord voice. “I need you to-“

But Rhys didn’t manage to finish the sentence before Azriel had started moving.

“Where are you going?” Cass asked, but Azriel didn’t stop.

“Go with him,” Rhys commanded. “I’ll get the illyrians.”

Cassian rushed to get to his brother.

“I’m going with you,” he said.

“Hurry up then,” was Azriel’s only answer.

Cassian expected him to refuse, but this only made things easier for him.

The second Cassian was close enough, Azriel grabbed him and shadow walked. And after one small break in the middle of Illyria, they ended up in Ironcrest.

Azriel let go of him and immediately started moving towards a small house. The lowest of the two floors looked like it was a restaurant, but Cassian had never been there.

Azriel ripped open the door and started looking around.

“Mia?” He shouted. “Mia, it’s safe. You can come out now. It’s Azriel. I have my friend Cassian with me. Do you remember me talking about Cassian?”

His behavior confused Cassian. Who was Mia?

“Az, what are you doing?” Cassian asked.

“You can either leave or help me look,” Azriel spat back.

The two of them continued up the stairs and walked into a small bedroom.

“Mia?” Azriel said again, more softly this time. “You can come out, I promise it’s safe.”

A careful knock shifted their attention towards the end of the bed.

Azriel sat down on his knees and knocked once on the floor. Cassian was starting to worry his brother had gone mad when the floor near the bed answered with not one, not two, but three knocks.

Azriel knocked four times and suddenly the plank at the bottom of the bed was moved. Up from the floor came a small illyrian girl. She couldn’t have been older than four.

“There she is,” Azriel said and opened his arms. The girl ran into his chest and Azriel picked her up. “Are you unharmed?”

The girl nodded into Azriel’s chest.

“You did so well, Mia,” Azriel continued and kiss the top of her head.

“Momma said not to come out unless it was her or you,” the little girl said in between her soft sobbing. “I tried to be quiet, but I was so scared.”

Azriel cooed at her and brushed some hair away from her face.

“Was there someone here that wasn’t me or momma?”

“No, daddy” the girl answered.

Cassian felt his eyes widened at the two of them. Azriel had a daughter? A daughter he didn’t tell him about?

Azriel met his confused look and just shrugged at him.

Cassian just mouthed “what the hell?” at his brother.

Azriel just mouthed back “later”.

With his daughter still tucked safely into his chest, Azriel and Cassian started to move down the stairs. That’s when Rhys contacted them.

“Feyre and I are at the school. I have about 15 illyrians, we need to get going. How fast can you get here?” Rhys asked them.

“We’re there in five minutes,” Cass replied.

The two of them rushed towards the school, Azriel walked a lot slower than usual as all his attention went into comforting Mia.

She had cried herself to sleep by the time they arrived.

The school was a mess. The older teen girls were trying to comfort the youngest kids. Some held babes that were no older than months, others held each other as they cried in terror.

Cassian soon noticed Madja and some other healers from Velaris that were comforting and healing.

“Rhys and the other’s already left,” Feyre suddenly stood in front of them. “Who is that?”

She noticed Mia clinging to Azriel and Cass saw how she immediately started worrying about the little girl.

“Her name is Mia,” Azriel told her, but left out the important detail of her being his daughter. “I need you to watch her. Please don’t leave her out of your sight, her mother would kill me.”

Feyre nodded and Azriel carefully placed Mia in Feyre’s arms. He gave his little girl a small kiss, before he nodded at Feyre and made his way out with Cassian.

Cassian got more and more curious about the little girl’s mom and hoped that she would be okay.

Feyre held the little girl until she woke up. After Azriel had left it only took about fifteen minutes before she started to stir and wake up.

She looked up at Feyre with confused and tired eyes.

“You’re not momma,” she said with a yawn.

“No, I’m Feyre. And a friend of mine told me that you’re Mia.”

Mia only nodded at her.

“Do you know where momma is? Or where daddy went?”

Feyre felt her heart break a little at her questions. She had no idea how any of the females in the camp was doing. And if her dad was an illyrian from this camp, he probably wasn’t the nicest.

“I’m afraid I don’t know, sweetie” Feyre answered honestly.

“Daddy saved me, why did he leave?” She asked.

Her father saved her? The male that had been carrying her was Azriel. He couldn’t be her father, right? She would have known about that, wouldn’t she?

Feyre spent some time looking closer at the girl’s face. She had dark drown her and brown eyes, but so did most illyrians.

That’s when she noticed the small shadow twisted into the girl’s hair.

“Do you know your father’s name?” Feyre asked.

“Daddy’s name is Azriel and momma’s name is Y/N and they love me very much,” Mia answered.

Even though it was a shock, Feyre couldn’t say she was too surprised at Azriel having a secret family. The entire male was secrets, so of course he hid some from them as well.

“Your daddy went to help his brothers help your mother,” Feyre tried to explain.

“When will they come back? Momma promised to sing me to sleep.”

Feyre’s heart broke even more. How could she lie to this sweet little girl?

“I’m sure she will sing you to sleep as soon as possible.”

Feyre had been at the school for five hours before her mate informed her of the first females making their way to them.

The entire school turned into a mess. Females everywhere were crying. Some had lost their mothers and sisters, others had lost their ability to fly.

There was also the occasional happy reunion.

Madja and the rest of the healers were working so fast trying to save some lives or wings.

Feyre held Mia’s hand as they moved through the school.

The little girl had neither spoken nor slept for the last five hours since their last conversation. She had been clinging to Feyre the entire time.

Feyre started to become anxious to find her mother. Mia had not eaten in ages, but she simply didn’t trust anyone that wasn’t her mother or Azriel apparently.

The two of them moved slowly through the school. Mia looked anxiously around and after about an hour of looking, they finally found who they were looking for.

“Mia!” A cry filled voice said.

Feyre turned and immediately found the sweetest looking eyes. Mia let go of her hand and started running.

The female was currently helping another female dressing her wounds, but she stopped the second she saw her daughter.

Mia ran into the Y/N’s arms.

“Momma,” Mia cried multiple times.

“I’m here my little fly,” she answered. “I’m so proud of you Mia.”

Mia almost melted into her mother’s embrace and it seemed like her mother did the same.

“Thank the mother you’re okay,” the female muttered.

After a while the Y/N looked up at Feyre and her eyes widened. She moved to stand and picked up Mia.

“Thank you so much, my lady,” she said with a nervous nod. “Thank you for everything.”

“No need to apologize. I just did what I would want someone to do with my son if I wasn’t there.”

“But I’m sure you’re so busy and you still took time to watch my Mia. Thank you so much. Mia, have you thanked the High-”

Y/N turned her head and noticed a sleeping Mia in her arms. Feyre almost felt Y/N’ relief and saw how much she loved her daughter.

“She didn’t sleep much after Azriel left. And I haven’t been able to make her eat or drink.”

Y/N just nodded still not looking away from Mia.

“Is he okay?” She asked with a soft voice.

Feyre absolutely loved the feeling of happiness she felt when she realized the female was talking about Azriel.

“I haven’t heard from them in an hour or so, but I’m sure he’s okay. I’ll tell you the second I know.”

“Thank you.”

Cassian, Rhys and Azriel rushed towards the school.

It took almost ten hours, but they had been able to threaten the camp leader to stop wing clipping forever. Moving forwards, Cassian and his men would watch the camp more closely.

The three of them were exhausted, but nothing stopped them from making sure all the females were now safe.

They walked in through the doors and immediately saw Feyre.

Cassian saw almost all the tension leave Rhys’ body at the sight of his mate. He could not wait until he got home and could snuggle up with Nesta.

Rhys gave Feyre a strong hug and a small kiss, before Azriel interrupted them.

“Where is she?” He asked and Cassian noticed the absence of Mia.

“They’re over there,” Feyre answered softly and pointed towards one of the corners.

Azriel immediately rushed towards the corner. He almost fell to his knees and embraced Mia and the female that held her.

Mia’s mother, Cassian realized.

“Have I missed something?” Rhys asked with a raised brow and a small smile. He was looking at Azriel and his girls.

“Azriel apparently has a daughter,” Cassian said.

“Not exactly,” Feyre informed softly. “Mia is Y/N’s daughter and Y/N and Azriel started dating a few months ago. They have known each other for a while longer, but Y/N wanted to make sure he was the right for her and Mia before she introduced them. Mia has also recently started calling Azriel her dad.”

The three of them look over at the small family with tired, but smiling expressions.

“He looks happy,” Cassian broke the silence.

“He absolutely does,” Feyre agreed.

“I’m happy for him,” Rhys said and the two others agreed.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[0cta9on]

Unlikely Duet - 8

Length: 18k+ words

Genre: Fluff

NewJeans Minji x Male Reader (OC)

(Author's Note: First of all, thanks to @msafterhours for beta reading! This chapter wouldn't have been as good without your input :] TW: Violence and mention of blood. Hope y'all enjoy this chapter, it was a blast to write :> )

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Yuno’s POV

It’s weird. It’s a Monday, universally agreed to be the most hated day of the week, and yet, here I am, waking up with a smile on my face like it’s the most regular thing in the world. I had no weird dreams this time around, but that didn’t stop Minji from being the first person I thought about the second I opened my eyes. Whatever I said before about love being stupid, scratch that. I feel invincible.

After quickly getting ready, I head downstairs to see my dad cooking breakfast, an image I’m slowly getting used to. It feels comforting knowing someone cares enough about me to go through all the trouble of cooking a meal.

“Good morning, dad.”

“Good morning, Yuno. You seem happy this morning,” he smirks at me.

My face already aches, not used to smiling this much. “Yeah, just… excited for school, I guess,” I shrug.

“Mhm, sure,” he chuckles, sliding a plate of food towards me. “Eat up.” Right before I dig into my breakfast, I send a text to the group chat, asking Winter and Yujin if they want to meet up at the convenience store and walk to school together.

Winter: sure thing :)

Yujin: yeahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!

Actual food for breakfast, actual friends to walk to school with, and an actual crush I get to see at school? It’s only morning and already this day feels perfect.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

My heart thumps with anxiety while my parents sit across from me at the dining table, completely oblivious to the dread I feel in every fiber of my being. In order for me to survive at the banquet tomorrow, I need them to agree to let me bring a plus one. Specifically, I need them to let me bring Yuno, the one person they specifically told me to stay away from.

I inhale deeply, firming up my resolve as best as I can. “Um, Mother? Father?”

They both look up at me. “Yes, dear?” Mother answers.

“About the banquet tomorrow-” “Ah right, Ms. Park told me that Sunghoon is excited to see you again after so long. Isn’t that nice?”

I bite my tongue to keep myself from visibly cringing. “Right, um, I actually wanted to ask you if I could bring a friend to the banquet.”

They exchange looks at each other before turning back to me. “I don’t see why not. Who did you want to invite?”

“Um… Yuno.”

“Absolutely not!” Mother answers a bit too quickly. “We told you already that we don’t want you associating with that boy! Why don’t you bring any of your other friends, like Danielle, or even Hanni would be more acceptable than him.”

“Because, uh…” I need to think of a lie, something, anything that can convince them. “...Because he has an interest in the business,” I blurt out. Not my best work, but it’s better than nothing. Both of them furrow their brows, unconvinced, yet neither of them say a word, simply waiting for my explanation. 

“I, uh, told him about the family business and he got so, um, inspired by your story that he wants to, uh, pursue a business degree in college.”

 Their glares feel like spotlights, scrutinizing my every little move. Mother’s expression remains the same — bewildered and a little irked — but I can see the gears slowly turning in Father’s pensive gaze.

“I thought the banquet would be a good opportunity for him to make connections in the industry, y’know, just like how you want me to,” I continue. “You two always emphasize the importance of making strong connections in case I need help in the future, so why can’t I be the connection that helps Yuno?”

“Honey, we are not charity workers-”

“Wait,” Father says, turning towards her. “I think we should let him come.”

Both mine and my mother’s eyes grow wide in surprise.

“Really?” We say in unison.

“I’ve always had a firm belief in education, both in and out of the classroom. This banquet could be an opportunity for him to better himself. He clearly has no plans for the future otherwise.”

Mother opens her mouth to argue, but instead sighs and nods. “Fine, we will permit Yuno to come to the banquet.” 

I almost can’t believe the words coming out of their mouths. My plan is actually going to work. I’m so happy I could cry.

“But,” she adds, “If he causes any trouble, we forbid you from seeing him outside of school, okay?”

“Y-yes, of course, I’ll make sure he stays out of trouble! Thank yo-”

“And I don’t want you sneaking off and being alone with that boy. We’ll have Sunghoon stick with the two of you the entire time.”

My ears start to ring like a massive bomb just dropped nearby.

“...W-what!?”

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

The morning sun warms my skin as I wait for my friends by the convenience store. Birds fly above, singing their spring song like gentle plucks of a violin, sonorous yet fragile. A clear sky hangs overhead, unblemished by smog or storm clouds. It almost feels like mother nature herself wants me to have a good day.

“Good morning, Yuno!”

“YUNOOOOOOOOOO!!!” Winter and Yujin appear in the distance, walking towards me.

“Hey,” I greet them with a wave. They both stop in their tracks, eyeing me with surprise. “...What?”

“You’re smiling,” Winter states as if it’s the most insane thing she’s ever seen.

I turn my head away, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Y-yeah, so what?”

“Aw, Winter, you ruined it,” Yujin teases. “He looked so happy.”

I sigh. “...Let’s just go.”

Both of them chuckle, taking their spot on either side of me like it’s where they belong. For so long, I walked the same route to school alone every morning, yet today, it feels a little different. The colors on the buildings and the street signs seem so much more vivid, the air smells like fresh grass and blooming flowers, puddles and windows glisten like diamonds as they reflect the sun’s morning light. A part of me thinks that I’m dreaming again — when did the world look this beautiful? But the way Yujin nudges my side to show me a drawing he’s working on or the way Winter clutches onto my shoulder after almost tripping on nothing lets me know that all of this is real. The world that I used to hate waking up to is now a world that I can look at with a smile. 

A real, genuine smile.

______________________________________________________________

As the three of us walk through the hallways of Evergreen, I feel the familiar stares of the other students, eyeing me like some kind of untamed beast that could jump out at them at any moment. Even with everything else changing around me, I can always count on high schoolers to be ever stagnant and predictable in their behaviors. Although, something in their eyes feels a little peculiar. Instead of just fear, there’s something else hiding behind it. Intrigue? Admiration? Maybe these rose-tinted lenses are starting to make me see things.

“P-people sure d-do stare a lot, h-huh?” Winter asks, her voice shrinking to a mere whisper.

“Yeah, I guess they do.” I glance back at them, both their gazes glued to the ground, clearly not used to the unwanted attention. “Sorry, I should’ve warned you guys.”

“It’s okay, Yuno, it’s not your fault,” Yujin reassures me.

“Y-yeah, I’m sure w-we’ll get used to it,” Winter adds with a small grin. Man, what did I do to deserve these two?

The five minute warning bell rings, sending the students still left in the hallways in a hurry. I say my goodbyes to Winter and Yujin as we part ways, enduring the usual stares and hushed voices as I make my way to my seay in the back. Still, something feels odd about the way they’re looking at me today. I try to meet their eyes to get a better look, but everyone keeps looking away, pretending like they weren’t whispering about me to their friends. If this keeps going on for the rest of the day, I’m gonna be pissed.

“Yuno Lin to the principal’s office, Yuno Lin to the principal’s office. Now,” the PA system announces, giving me a wave of deja vu. I have a couple guesses for what this could be about…

______________________________________________________________

Instead of coming out the gate swinging, Mr. Geier just sits at his desk, his hands clasped in deep thought. Normally, I would be pretty indifferent to whatever he has to say, but after everything Minji said to me, I suddenly feel guilty sitting in front of him. It probably isn’t easy dealing with my shit on a weekly basis.

“So…” he starts, finally looking up at me after a few minutes of silence. “I’m sure you know why you’re in here, Yuno.”

“Yup…”

He sighs. “The McGraw’s donate a lot of money to this school. They didn’t exactly take well to receiving a call that their son was found unconscious in the bathroom with a broken nose.”

Ah shit. This is it. The consequences of my actions have finally caught up to me. Fate, you cruel bastard, making me wake up in a good mood for the first time in years, only to send me to jail before the day even starts. Goodbye dad, Yujin, Winter, and Minji. Minji…

“But…”

But…!

“...They’ve decided not to press charges.”

“What!?” I exclaim, relieved and deeply confused. 

 “We received a tip from one of the boys on the football team that Tyler had been bullying a group of freshman boys for months. They still wanted to press charges anyways, but I may have… insinuated that if they did, I would ensure Tyler could only set foot into a community college at best.”

My eyes widen, slowly connecting the dots. “Did you…?”

“No, it was not for you,” he states matter-of-factly. “It was for the sake of all the freshmen that suffered because of him.”

“R-right.” I sink back into my chair, feeling sheepish. “So… what happens now? Detention? Suspension?”

“No, I have something else in mind for you.”

Just then, the door to Mr. Geier’s office swings open, sending in a wave of lavender and rainbows into his office as the girl of my dreams walks through.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Geier?” Minji says before turning to me, a quizzical look in her eyes.

“Perfect timing, Minji,” he says, “This is Yuno Lin. Yuno, this is Minji Kim, the student council president.”

Minji shoots me a confused look, but I’m too distracted by her beauty to pay full attention. Her hair is in a ponytail today with two strands of hair framing her perfect face. The sound of my thumping heart gets louder in my ears, drowning out whatever Geier is saying. Hopefully it’s not anything important. What could be more important than Minji? God, she’s so pretty, I-

“Yuno, are you paying attention?” Mr. Geier snaps at me.

“S-sorry, what?” Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Minji stifling a giggle, making my cheeks burn red.

“As I was saying, your punishment will be to help Minji with prom preparations. Whatever she asks you to do, you do it. If you cause any trouble for her, she’ll report it to me and you will face the consequences, understand?”

You mean I get to spend more time with Minji? As a punishment? “Yup, I understand,” I say, trying not to look too eager.

“Good.” He turns towards Minji. “Just make him lift the heavy stuff or something. He can be a handful, but he, uh… He means well.” How sweet, Geier. I’m blushing.

“That shouldn’t be much of a problem,” she says, smirking. “We’ve actually met bef-”

“U-uh, it’s nice to meet you for the first time ever, Ms. President!” I exclaim, shoving my hand towards her before she can utter another word. If Geier finds out that his “punishment” is more like a “blessing” for me, he’ll probably give me some other grunt work to deal with.

Minji awkwardly shakes my hand, giving me a curious expression. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you too, Yuno.” The feeling of her soft hand against mine beats out any kind of embarrassment I should be feeling right now.

“Alright, you can head back to class now, Minji,” Mr. Geier dismisses her. She gives me a small yet bewildered grin before exiting his office, leaving me alone with the principal yet again. My gaze lingers towards the door even after it closes, wishing she’ll pop back in for a few more seconds.

“So,” he begins, taking me out of my daydreams. “You got lucky. Extremely lucky. However, that doesn’t mean you can keep doing this and expecting to get out scot free just because I stick my neck out for you. There are rules here, and I understand that you may not agree with those rules, but they are there regardless, which means you must follow them just like everybody else. No more playing vigilante just because you can, you understand?”

“Yeah, I understand. I’m sorry.”

“I- you what?” He asks, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Uh, I said I understand and I’m sorry,” I reiterate sheepishly.

“Oh. Okay. Well. Good. As long as you understand.” It’s almost offensive just how shocked he is, as if I didn’t know my own actions were wrong. I might be stubborn, but I’m not stupid.

“I’m going back to class,” I state, getting up from my chair. Right before I exit his office, I turn to Geier one last time. “Uh, my dad is doing better now.”

He looks up at me, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile. “Really? That’s great to hear, Yuno.” 

I give him a nod before shutting the door behind me. I’m not sure what exactly compelled me to tell him that, just a hunch that told me it was the right thing to do at the moment. Geier did ask about him last time, so it only makes sense. I guess.

As I turn the corner, I catch Minji leaning against the wall right outside of Geier’s office. Was she waiting for me?

“Oh. Hey,” I greet her with a small wave. “Hey!” She says, flashing me a smile that could bring about world peace. “What did Mr. Geier talk to you about? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

“It was about the, uh… thing that happened with Tyler.”

“Ah, right. So his idea of a punishment for you is to be around me? Ouch,” she jokes. We walk through the halls together despite not sharing the same first period (or any period for that matter). A weird energy hangs in the space between us, like a balloon threatening to pop if either of us get too close. My mind tiptoes on the fence between pushing my luck or staying in a comfortable space. In the end, I throw caution to the wind and close the gap just a little.

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think it’s a punishment at all,” I say, thinking out loud.

“That’s very kind of you, Yuno,” she chimes, a hint of pink gracing her cheeks. Simply being around her is making my heart pound like crazy. Can she hear it? God, I hope not. How am I supposed to control myself when she’s this cute? I just want to-

“Oh!” Minji suddenly stops and points at my face. Shit, was I thinking out loud again? Is she secretly psychic and can hear all my thoughts this whole time?

“W-what?” I ask, flustered.

“You’re smiling.”

I awkwardly clear my throat, wiping the smile off my face. “Y-yeah, so what? Am I not allowed to smile?”

She giggles at me. “No, you’re allowed to smile. In fact, I think you should smile more often, I rarely ever get to see you smile.”

“W-whatever,” I mutter, trying to hide the growing blush on my face. “About the banquet tomorrow, is there a dress code or something? I, uh, don’t own a suit,” I ask, changing the subject.

Minji’s expression suddenly darkens as a dejected sigh floats from her lips. “Oh right, the banquet…” she groans.

“S-sorry for bringing it up.”

“No, it’s fine,” she assures me. “My parents just told me this morning that if I’m gonna bring you along, the guy I’m trying to avoid has to stick around us the whole time, rendering my whole plan basically useless.”

“This guy you’re trying to avoid, is he, um….” I gulp nervously. “...your ex?”

“Ew! Oh my god, no!” Minji exclaims. “He’s the son of my parents’ business partners. He used to be a complete menace towards me when we were kids until he moved away during middle school. Oh my god, the thought of us ever dating is just…” Her entire body shivers in disgust.

I try my best to appear neutral, but inside, fireworks are going off in my head. It’s like Christmas came early this year. I have to physically fight off another smile from growing on my face.

“So, what are we gonna do now? Maybe…” I search my mind for another possible solution for her problem, but only one comes up, and frankly, it’s the best possible case for her and the worst possible case for me. I sigh in disappointment. “...maybe I just shouldn’t go.”

Her gaze shoots up at me. “What?”

“If I don’t go, then you won’t be forced to be around him the entire time,” I explain.

“But I-”

“I’ll probably stick out like a sore thumb anyways, being in a room full of a bunch of rich business people. Your parents already don’t like me, what would they all think of me being around you? Maybe it’s best if I don’t go-”

“Stop!” She suddenly exclaims, a fire burning in her irises. “I invited you because I want you to go, okay? Screw my original plan, screw everyone who judges you, and especially screw Sunghoon! You’re my friend and I want you to be there, don’t worry about all that superficial nonsense.” Her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, carrying the determination of her words. No wonder people voted for her as student council president, a speech like that could move anyone to action.

After a short pause, I concede. “...Okay, I’ll go.”

A smile replaces the serious expression she had, sending my heart into another frenzy. “Thank you, Yuno. All you have to do is enjoy yourself, don’t worry about scaring him off or anything dumb like that.”

Enjoy myself. At a banquet. That I certainly don’t belong in. Sure, I can do that.

“I should probably head back to the student council room, I still have a lot of work to do,” she says. “I, um… I’m glad we had this talk. I’ll see ya later.” And just like that, Minji disappears down the halls, leaving me standing here like a fool in love. The warmth in my chest feels like it’s gonna get hotter and hotter until I explode. I desperately hope she needs my help with prom preparations later.

______________________________________________________________

The presence of a substitute would normally mean all chaos ensues, but the odd tension hanging in the air during English practically suffocates any chances of socialization. I didn’t exactly mind nor care, but the silence only made the nervous glances towards me even more obvious. Furthermore, thanks to Tyler’s “disappearance”, his friends on the other side of the room don’t even try to hide their accusatory pointing and disdainful glares. Their sentiments aren’t exactly wrong, but it’s still annoying being on the receiving end of them. Surely, they know better than to start any dumb shit right now. 

And yet, I’m unsurprisingly proven wrong as one of them, a tall boy with blonde hair (is his name Connor? Colton? I have no clue), stomps towards me with fury in his eyes.

“Hey,” he growls at me, “You wouldn’t happen to know what happened to Tyler, would you?”

A sigh escapes me. Welp, that’s what I get for getting my hopes up. “Is he not here today? I had no idea,” I mutter, not giving him so much as a glance.

He slams his fist into my desk, causing everyone to look back at the commotion with fearful glances, including Winter. I shake my head reassuringly at her, but unfortunately, Tyler’s friend notices this and scoffs to himself.

“Behind the gym during lunch. Don’t be late.” He glances in Winter’s direction with a smirk on his face. “Or else.”

My fingernails dig into my palms as I ball my fist up in anger, my heart pumping with anger. For the first time since he came over, I glare at him, watching his cocky facade crack in front of my eyes as he scurries back to his little group with his tail in between his legs.

Dammit. God fucking dammit. Is it so hard for me to have one good day without having to deal with anyone’s shit? I notice Winter still staring at me with a worried look, so I conjure up my best convincing smile. She nods and turns back to her book, but I’m not sure if it ends up working.

It’s clear that he wants a fight. Of course he wants a goddamn fight.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno: I won’t be at lunch. I have something I need to deal with.

I send the text to the group chat as I pace around, waiting for Tyler’s goons to show up. The area behind the school’s gym is basically a cesspool for rule breaking; half the concrete is covered in cigarette butts, glass shards, and other mysterious stains from other’s unseemly activities that I’d rather stay unaware of. It’s a wonder how none of the teachers look back here with how often students frequent this place.

Finally, the boy from English class (Kayden? Kenneth? It starts with a K sound, I know that much) appears, alongside a dozen other boys that I’ve seen hanging around Tyler. A few of them are unarmed, but most are carrying broken mop handles. One guy has a pocket knife, so that’s something at least.

“Hey fuckface!” The blonde boy yells. “You think you can mess with Tyler just because you think you’re all high and mighty? Well, newsflash pal, you’re not!”

“Yeah!” His entourage cheers him on.

This is comical. These guys attend a high school in the suburbs, and yet they’re parading around like a bunch of wannabe gangsters. Did they rehearse their lines or something? Why does he talk like a movie bully from the 1950s? It’s taking every fiber of my being not to burst out laughing right now.

“You made a big mistake pal, and we’re gonna make you regret-”

“Fuck, alright!” I groan in annoyance. “Are we doing this or not?”

I stretch my arms, loosening myself up as they timidly inch closer with their little sticks pointed towards me. This could be over in the blink of an eye if I want it to, but I promised Minji I would stop fighting, so I won’t. Not exactly sure what that means, but I’m not exactly known for planning these things out.

I’m not a fighting expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I’ve been in enough to recognize certain patterns. Shaky eyes. Quivering breath. Their knuckles burning white as they clench their fists too hard to compensate for the fact that they have no idea what they’re doing. With each step they take, it only becomes more apparent how downright terrified they are. I almost feel bad for them. 

It’s not like I wanted this either, but I brought this upon myself of my own volition. These guys could have said no and went about their day, living their regular high school lives, but instead, they’re rallying behind some guy they’re probably not close with just for a measly ounce of street cred they get for “showing their loyalty,” effectively reducing themselves to lap dogs that get the “privilege” of calling themselves popular. I’m not doing this for street cred or privilege or any of that bullshit that they care too much about. I’m doing this because the asshole that they’re rallying behind threatened my friend.

Inevitably, one of them gets brave enough to make the first move. He swings his stick, hollering at the top of his lungs, and misses wildly as I dodge to the side. The next guy gets lucky, breaking his stick against my arm as I block the side of my head. My arm stings like hell, but I can’t focus on that for too long before the rest of them start getting confident and lunging at me. 

Even in the midst of the frenzy, as I dodge a swing aimed towards my head or suffer a kick to the stomach, all I can think about is Minji. I made a promise to her, one I have no intention of breaking. Rather than a fight between me and the dozens of Tyler’s lackeys, it feels more like a fight between me and my instincts, actively trying to suppress the years of bad habits just for Minji. A part of me feels stupid for doing it - it’s not like she’ll ever see this anyways - yet I continue to subdue my instincts, even if it means sustaining a couple brutal blows to the body.

One of the bigger guys in the group tackles me to the ground, taking the wind out of me as my back collides with the hard concrete. My ears start to ring as he lands two solid punches to my cheek. I flail my hands wildly to the side, desperate for something to grab, before landing on a pile of broken glass. Ignoring the blood rushing to my palms, I chuck the shards at his face. He yelps in pain, allowing me to push him off and get back to my feet. Before I can even blink, my head begins to spin as another punch sends me careening towards the brick wall. Warm blood leaks through my lips, staining my shirt. Two more guys stand over me before hoisting me up by my arms.

I’m fucking exhausted. My vision is blurry and the ringing in my ears grows louder by the second. Each inhale burns just a bit hotter than the last. I’m covered in blood again, but this time, it’s all my own. Every cell in my body screams at me for getting into this situation in the first place, berating me for my own stubbornness. Yet the blonde boy, Kyle or whatever the fuck his name is, stands in front of me unscathed, not even a drop of sweat on his brow. The rest of his buddies are on the ground, breathless and covered in injuries they got from tripping over each other. I cough out a weak chuckle, sending a jolt of pain through my chest.

“W-what the fuck are you laughing at?!” Even his threats are starting to get shaky.

“Just funny… You called me out here… Yet… You didn’t do shit…” I mutter. “Fucking… coward…”

The fury ignites in his eyes, the same one present when he first called me out in English. He grabs a broken mop handle off the ground and swings it overhead, aiming for my face. This is it. Started this day off with a smile, and look where I’m at now. In the back of my mind, I always knew I would go out like this. It’s a shame this had to happen after I finally found something to look forward to. With a shallow breath, my eyes flutter shut as I unwillingly accept my fate.

Suddenly, a loud siren blares through the air. The stick that was sailing towards my head mere seconds ago now clatters to the ground. Mr. Geier pops up from behind the building with a megaphone in his hand, alongside two teachers, Winter, Yujin, Danielle, and Minji.

“What the hell are you doing!? Put him down NOW!” Geier yells through the megaphone. I collapse to my knees as the two idiots drop me to the ground. A mix of emotions swirl through my head, but the sense of relief shines clearest through the storm. The fact that I’m alive almost makes everything feel more painful. 

As the teachers reprimand the other guys, Minji and the others rush over to me, their overlapping voices of worry combined with the ringing in my ears making it impossible to make out anything. I want to tell them that it’s fine, I made it out alive. In a shit ton of pain, but alive nonetheless. No words come out. My vision is starting to blur again. Minji’s face is the last thing I see before everything turns to black.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

I lean back in my chair, stretching my arms as I let out a long, exhausted sigh. It feels like no matter how much progress I make with prom, there’s still a whole mountain of things I still need to do.

Danielle walks through the door of the student council room, carrying a pile of papers with her. I nearly burst into tears just looking at the size of the stack.

“Relax,” she says reassuringly, reading my expression. “These are all taken care of.”

I slide farther into my chair, releasing a deep breath. “Oh thank god, I don’t think I can handle doing anymore paperwork.”

She grins, taking a seat next to me. “The principal approved the caterers and our ‘Red Carpet’ theme, I informed the club leaders to start working on their floats for the prom parade, and Woohyuk and Julie from the art club agreed to paint a mural in the gym. All we have left to do is pick a venue, find a DJ, and prepare decorations.”

“You say that like it’s an easy thing to do.” I sigh, resting my head on the table while Danielle merely shrugs her shoulders. A couple minutes of silence pass, both of us exhausted and overwhelmed by the ever growing pile of work. “Are Woohyuk and Julie dating?” I ask, making small talk.

“I think so. They seem to have gotten a lot closer after the school festival, and they wouldn’t stop shooting each other heart eyes when I asked them to paint the mural. It was sickening,” she jokes.

Dating in high school always felt like an enigma to me. Statistically speaking, only 20% of couples last until college, and only 10% ever get married. High schoolers are the most emotional, stubborn, immature, and hormonal people on the planet (according to my parents), why would you want to date someone like that? But it’s not like I don’t want to date… I just never had the chance to. I would be lying if I said I don’t look at couples walking arm-in-arm through the halls with some kind of envy. Wouldn’t it be nice to go through the struggles of your teen years with someone that understands you because they’re going through the exact same thing? I say that, and then I look out the potential dating pool at Evergreen, only to be reminded of why I haven’t dated anyone. I mean, there is one guy I wouldn’t mind dating…

“Why do you ask?” Danielle says, interrupting my train of thought.

“U-uh nothing, just curious.” My cheeks suddenly flare up with heat as she leans forward, scrutinizing my expression.

“Are you thinking about that boy again?

My eyes go wide as I shake my head profusely. “W-what, no! Why would I be thinking about Yuno?”

“Because I didn’t even mention a name, yet your mind automatically went to Yuno.” She raises her eyebrows in an ‘I told you so’ expression, causing me to shrink in my chair. “Are you really gonna fall for someone like that just because he saves your purse from a thief?”

“I told you I—Huh? How do you know about that?”

Danielle takes her phone out and pulls up a video from a local news account titled, “Heroic Man Stops Mall Purse Thief.” My eyes grow even wider as the video plays, showing Yuno tackling the thief who stole my purse and the… awkward hug I gave him afterwards. Apparently, someone had recorded the entire altercation and uploaded it to social media. It now has…

“Five million views?!” I exclaim. That explains all the weird looks I’ve been getting today. I faceplant into the table, my face burning with a fire of a thousand suns. So that means the entire school saw me… hugging Yuno… I mean, why do I feel so embarrassed in the first place? Hugging is a perfectly normal way to show gratitude towards someone. He got my purse back, so a hug seems pretty normal, right? It’s not like people are gonna assume we’re dating. Not that I have any problem with dating him, it’s just…

I let out a sigh. “Danielle…” I groan, my voice muffled by the table.

“Hm?” I feel her gently pat my shoulder in support. I lift my head, turning towards her.

“What do I do?”

She tilts her head at me, confused. “Do you want them to take the video down?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s… I don’t know. I’m so lost. There’s a lot going on with prom and my parents, it feels like I’m being tossed back and forth in a tornado with nothing around to hold onto for support. There’s things that I want to do that seem so… impossible given the circumstances. I wish I could freeze time just so I could have a moment to myself to think.” I slump back onto the table in defeat while Danielle continues to rub my shoulder.

Compared to the rest of the girls, Danielle is the most logical one. Hanni does everything she can to cheer me up, Haerin lends an ear and a shoulder to cry on no matter what, Hyein is always there to show me the brighter side of things, and Danielle is prepared with an easy 3-step solution to virtually any of my problems. If I’m drowning in a sea of doubt and anxiety, I know she’ll be there with a spare life vest and an intricately made wooden raft to hoist me out of the water. But not even she has the answers to everything.

Suddenly, the door to the student council room swings open.

“We need help,” a familiar voice shoots through the door. “Quickly.”

Yuno’s friends stand in the doorway panting, worry painted on their faces. Winter looks like she’s on the verge of tears while Yujin’s normally cheery disposition is hauntingly absent.

“What’s wrong?” Danielle asks.

“I-I’m not sure, b-but I think h-he’s in a fight right n-now, behind the g-gym,” Winter answers, her voice breaking.

A fight? N-no… What if he gets hurt?

I hurriedly jump to my feet, my mind racing. “Danielle, Yujin, go get Principal Geier. Winter, come with me,” I command, panic evident in my voice. The four of us promptly leave the student council room, with Danielle and Yujin diverging to the principal’s office while Winter and I walk briskly towards the gym.

“Tell me everything. What do you mean Yuno might be in a fight?” I ask her.

“D-during English, Cameron w-went up to Yuno and he looked r-really angry. I-I couldn’t hear everything th-they were saying, but it s-sounded like he told him to m-meet behind the gym during l-lunch,” she explains. I pick up the pace, adrenaline pumping through my body. With each passing step, all I can think about is one thing.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

______________________________________________________________

As we turn the corner to the back of the gym, my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach while my breath gets completely sucked from my lungs. Two boys hold up Yuno’s limp body as a third prepares to swing a stick straight towards his head. I wanna scream, I wanna run to him and make sure he’s okay, but my entire body stays frozen in place. Why does it have to be Yuno? Why couldn’t it be anyone else? I was just talking to him a few hours ago, he was fine. He was smiling. I wish I could see that smile on his face again. Please.

“M-Minji,” Danielle softly calls out my name, wiping the tears off my face with concern in her eyes. I didn’t even realize I was crying. She holds me as I uncontrollably sob into her shoulder, my heart aching with an indescribable pain. It feels like I’m being torn apart from the inside. I need him to be okay. Please.

“C’mon, let’s go,” she says, patting my arm. I look up from her shoulder, wiping away my tears, to see Yuno collapse to the floor. Mr. Geier and the other two teachers with us yell at the rest of the boys to line up against the wall using harsh language I’ve never heard him say before. The four of us get down by his side, desperate to make sure he’s okay.

“H-he’s fine, right? He’ll be okay, right? D-Dani?” Yujin asks, his voice quivering as he looks up at her for reassurance.

“Just, um, give him some room to breathe for now.”

“Y-Y-Y-Yuno…” Winter’s entire body shakes as she weeps into her hands. I should comfort her. I’m the student council president, it’s my responsibility to make sure everyone’s okay. But my own tears won’t stop flowing as I gently cup his cheek, swollen and red with cuts. You were awake earlier. Your eyes were open and you were smiling. Please wake up. Please smile again, Yuno. Please.

“Guys, we have to take him to the nurse, now!” Mr. Geier exclaims, grabbing Yuno by the arms. “Help me get his legs up!”

The three of them lift up his legs while I’m still too busy crying to help. My body is moving, following close behind them, but my mind is too muddled to properly process anything. The next few minutes are nothing but a blur of hallways and odd stares from students exiting the lunch room. I don’t care. I don’t care about what other students think of Yuno. I don’t care about what my parents think of him. I don’t care about what people at the banquet will think of him. All I care about is him and making sure that he’s okay.

Once we arrive at the nurse’s office, they gently lay his body on one of the cots. I sit down next to him, just staring at his face. His chest slowly rises and falls with breath. That’s good. He’s breathing. He’s alive. 

Mr. Geier says something to us that I can’t quite make out. All of their voices fade into the background of my mind like nothing was ever said in the first place. Mr. Geier leaves, with Winter and Yujin following soon after. Danielle sits down next to me and says something, but I’m too distracted to listen right now. She ends up leaving soon too. All I can do is sit here and wait for him to wake up. Please wake up soon. Please.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

My eyes blink open to a blotchy field of grays and blacks. I try to sit up, but a stabbing pain shoots through my entire body. Every breath feels like hell to get through. Memories of what happened moments before I passed out come back to me. I almost got my skull busted open, and then there was this loud siren. I thought I saw Minji before I passed out, but I’m not too sure. Fuck, my body hurts like hell. Where am I anyways?

As my vision begins to focus, I see the familiar fluorescent lights of the school glaring back at me. I finally sit up, doing my best to ignore the pain in my back, and look around - the nurse’s office. The school’s nurse, a skinny woman with giant glasses and violently pink scrubs, sits at her desk and types away at her computer, oblivious to my consciousness. I consider saying something to let her know I’m awake, but my throat is too dry to produce any noise.

I turn to my left and my heart stops in my chest. Minji is lying on the cot next to me, sleeping peacefully. I start to wonder if this is all just another weird dream, but as I reach out and gently brush the hair from her face, the soft skin of her cheek feels too real. Even when she’s sleeping, she’s so beautiful. But… Why is she here?

“Oh good, you’re awake,” the nurse says, rising from her desk. I quickly retract my hand from Minji’s face. “Principal Geier explained everything that happened. How are you feeling?”

I stretch my limbs, testing how much I can withstand the pain before it becomes unbearable. “Could be better, but I’m alive and breathing at least,” I say. “Uh, what is she doing here? Did she get hurt?” My voice raises slightly as I gesture to Minji’s sleeping form. If those fuckers did anything to her, I’m gonna-

“I think she’s fine. She came in with you and wouldn’t move or speak, even after Principal Geier told the rest of the kids to get back to class. She just sat there, watching over you until she fell asleep,” the nurse explains.

I sign in relief, thankful that she’s not hurt, but the nurse’s explanation only produces more questions. Why didn’t she leave? I’m sure she’s busy with a million other things, watching over me will only set her back even more. It’s not like this is the first time this kind of thing has happened to me. Something similar happened right before I met Minji. I’ll feel like shit for a few days, but I’m relatively fine. 

So why did she stay?

The nurse pats my shoulder, handing me an ice bag. “I have to go, some kid threw up in the library, just put this wherever you feel like it. Will you and your girlfriend be fine here alone?”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. “She’s not m- Uh, sure, we’ll be fine.”

She exits the room, leaving me alone with Minji. The silence gives me a moment to get my thoughts straight as the ice bag partially soothes my headache. Her face is so still and peaceful, I slow down my breaths despite the pain just so I don’t wake her up. The last time I saw her face like this was when we slept in the same bed after she almost got attacked in front of the convenience store. My heart still burns with anger at the thought of Minji nearly getting hurt. I want to protect her. Even if she doesn’t feel the same, I want to be there for her in any way I can. In the short time I’ve known Minji, it feels like I’m becoming a better person, or maybe I’m just becoming more and more foolish. I don’t know. Feelings are confusing.

Minji’s eyes suddenly flutter open, and as soon as they meet mine, she jumps up, wrapping her arms around me in a tight embrace. “Y-you’re awake! Oh my god, you’re awake!” She sobs into my shoulders. I completely freeze in her arms, the surprise overtaking the pain.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, Minji. Are you okay?” I ask, awkwardly patting her back. She separates from me, tears overflowing from her eyes. With each drop that falls, I feel my heart crack into a billion pieces, this pain worse than anything I’ve ever felt before. Hesitantly, I wipe away her tears with my uninjured hand, making sure my movements are gentle.

“H-hey, it’s okay. What’s wrong?” She takes a moment to calm down, sinking her cheek into my palm as she controls her breathing. I don’t dare move my hand, even after most of the tears stop flowing.

“I-I was… so worried… that y-you wouldn’t… wake up…” She stutters in between sniffles. “I-I thought you w-were… th-thought you were… dea-”

“I’m okay, Minji,” I interrupt her, afraid she’ll start bawling again if she finishes her sentence. “U-um, please stop crying. I’m okay.”

She takes one more deep breath before sitting back down, regretfully moving my hand from her cheek. We sit in silence for a while, unsure of what to say. She cried after getting attacked by the convenience store, but this time seems different. This time, she wasn’t crying for her, she was crying for me.

“Wait here,” Minji mutters before getting up and walking over to the sink in the corner of the room. I watch silently as she pulls out a few things from the cupboard and fiddles with the sink for a moment before walking back over to me. She gently places a bowl of water and a hand towel next to me before taking out a juice box and poking a straw through the top.

“Here.” She brings the straw to my lips, making me flinch slightly.

“Oh. Thanks.” I take it from her, drinking it as she dips the towel into the water and gently tends to my cut up hand. My body recoils from her touch more than the pain itself. It still feels foreign to me, being cared for like this. Never in a million years did I imagine someone like Minji Kim to pop into my life. She’s way too good for me. What good would I be as her boyfriend? What good am I as her friend for that matter? I don’t want to be a nuisance in her life. I want- No, I need to be better. For her.

She finishes wrapping the gauze around my hand. “Is that okay? Not too tight?” She asks, her voice slightly hoarse from crying.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Thanks.” I look at her, meeting her eyes. “You didn’t have to do this. You should’ve just left-”

“Why did you get into another fight? I thought you said you wouldn’t fight anymore.” Her tone turns stern, softly reprimanding my decisions.

“I didn’t fight,” I assure her. “If I didn’t show up, they were gonna go after Winter, but I promise, I didn’t try to hit them or anything.”

“So you just let them beat you up!?” Minji shoots me a look of disbelief, tears welling up in her eyes.

“N-no! I-I dodged and stuff, they just got a few lucky hits in!” I hastily try to explain myself, hoping she doesn’t cry again. In hindsight, it sounds even more stupid when I say it out loud. I went to the back of the gym, fully expecting there to be a crowd of people wanting to kick my ass, and the only plan I had was to… not fight? Even if I did make it out fine, did I just expect Minji not to say anything about the sudden abundance of injuries all over my body? God, I’m such a dumbass.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone!? A-a teacher!? Principal Geier!? Me!?” The look of outrage alone is enough to make me feel like a child getting scolded by their parents. My gaze falls to the ground, hiding my embarrassed blush.

“I, uh… I didn’t think of that…” I shamefully admit. She sits next to me, sighing into her hands. Seconds stretch into entire years as tense silence overtakes the room. Even my own breathing feels comparable to a car engine with how quiet everything is.

My entire body freezes as I feel Minji rest her head on my shoulder. Her silky black hair tickles my neck while the scent of her lavender perfume wafts through my nose, giving me visions of running through a clear field full of nothing but lavender stems. “Do you know why I’m mad at you?” She asks, her voice surprisingly mild.

“Uh, because I’m… stupid?”

She chuckles lightly at my half-joke. “You’re not stupid. What you did was stupid, but no, that’s not why I’m mad.”

“Because, uh… I didn’t talk to you first?”

“Bingo.” She lifts her head up to look at me. Her face is close, I can feel the warmth emanating from her soft cheeks. “I know you wanted to protect Winter, but you ended up getting hurt in the process. If you had just gone to a teacher, those boys would’ve been reprimanded without you having to get hurt.”

“They would not have been reprimanded-”

“Okay, fine, they probably wouldn’t have been seriously reprimanded without any solid evidence,” she concedes. “But that doesn’t mean you should go through these kinds of things alone. Your friends were worried sick about you. And I…” Her voice cracks like delicate porcelain. “...I was worried sick about you.”

I gulp, finally feeling the weight of my actions. For years, everything I’ve done has only affected me. I never had to second guess anything. But things are different now. I have people around me that care about my well-being, which means all of my actions have some kind of effect on them. This whole thing sprouted from me wanting to protect a friend, but in the end, they got hurt because of me.

“I’m sorry, Minji. For being stupid and not talking to you and letting myself get hurt.”

She nods, offering an appreciative grin. “Next time something like this happens, just text me first so I can at least try to talk you out of it, okay?”

How could I ever say no to a face like that? “Okay.”

Minji’s smile widens, and like a mirror, I can feel my own lips curling to reflect her joy. She’s so… amazing, unreal even—like someone plucked a princess straight from a fairy tale and placed her right in front of me. Kind, caring, courteous, beautiful, strong, intelligent, absolutely perfect in every way possible that it almost feels unfair. I might be fated for nothing more than an early grave, but for once, I want to defy fate and entertain the possibility that something good could happen to me. Maybe Minji is the good thing that happened to me, and maybe, just maybe, there is a future where me and her… y’know.

A whole minute passes before I realize that neither of us have stopped staring at each other. Something in my head clicks. I find myself leaning in, inch by inch, closer to Minji’s lips, just like I’ve done many times in my dreams - But this time, it’s real. Her breath dances against my skin, making my cells tingle in anticipation. Something in her expression shifts. Her eyes widen slightly, flickering downwards every so often, but she doesn’t pull away, even after my intentions become crystal clear. She opens her mouth as if to say something, a protest maybe, but no sound comes out except for her shivering breath. My heart pounds in my ears like a warning alarm telling me to stop. “This is a bad idea, Yuno! What are you doing!?” Yet I continue onward until the tension is palpable. So close, I can almost taste it-

The door to the nurse’s office swings open. “Oh good, you’re both awake!”

Minji and I jump to opposite sides of the cot, my face burning hotter than the sun. The nurses waltzes in with another kid sporting a gross vomit stain on his shirt, tossing any kind of sentiment I had mere moments ago out the window. My heart chugs with the force of a speeding bullet train; it’s a miracle I haven’t succumbed to a heart attack by now.

“U-um, I should, um…” Minji stutters frantically, her eyes darting everywhere but in my direction. If it’s any consolation, I feel too overwhelmed to look at anywhere except the floor. She hurries out of the nurse’s office without uttering another word.

“What’s up with her?” The nurse asks. I’m too busy freaking out to even register her question properly.

WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST TRY TO DO!?

___________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

Oh my god. Oh… my god. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. My god. OH. MY. GOD. OMGOMGOMGOMGOGMOMGOMGOMGOMGM-

“Minj? Are you alright?”

I jump in my seat, my gaze flying wildly around me. “H-huh?”

Hanni and Haerin exchange odd glances as they take their seats on either side of me. “Girl, what’s wrong with you?” Hanni asks, her eyebrow raised in concern.

“I-I’m fine, just working on prom stuff like usual.” That’s only somewhat of a lie: after getting permission to excuse myself from the rest of the day’s classes, I came into the student council room with the intent to work on prom stuff to get my mind off of… that. However, I ended up spending the last hours of the school day staring at my blank computer screen while my mind spirals out of control. “Where’s Danielle and Hyein?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Home stuff,” Hanni answers, sliding an iced coffee towards me. “Are you sure you’re fine? You look… shaky.”

“It’s probably just stress, you know how I’ve been lately,” I awkwardly chuckle. Caffeine is probably the last thing that I need right now, yet I take a sip to keep up appearances. Haerin’s cold, analyzing glare seems to notice this.

“Mmm…” She grumbles to herself, her gaze never leaving mine as she takes a notebook from her backpack and starts to scribble in it. Haerin always had a knack for knowing things before they happen, but not even she could’ve possibly known about the nurse’s office… right?

“Ugh, all this talk about prom is making me sick,” Hanni groans. “Spending over $1000 on hair, makeup, a dress, and a limo, all for what? Three hours of some sweaty boy’s hands on my waist? I think I’ll pass.”

“You can think that, but some people wait their entire lives for this one magical night, I just want to make sure everyone has fun,” I reason.

“Pfft, you just want to slow dance with your little boyfriend, Yuno.”

The shock from her words makes me choke on my drink, devolving into a mad coughing fit. “W-what?! N-no I don’t! He’s not my- shut up!” Hanni throws her head back in laughter, clearly amused by my near death experience at her hands.

With how insanely stressful prom preparations have been, the thought of procuring a date to the event never crossed my mind. At this point in the year, most people have found potential dates to take or a close group of friends to go with, with Danielle, Hanni, and I falling into the latter. All this time, I never even thought what prom would be like for myself. I’ve seen it all the time in movies and TV shows: the main character boy asks the hot cheerleader girl to prom, they slow dance together to a popular song fitting of the time, they kiss, credits roll. A simple, predictable formula riddled with a mess of cliches, but one that many dream about for their own special night. But what did I want out of prom? Would he even- Nevermind, I can’t even think clearly about that right now.

Haerin tosses her notebook over to me. “I drew this,” she states.

I peer down at her drawing, growing more confused with each second. It seems to depict some kind of misshapen blob and a… girl? I think? They’re sitting on some kind of bench really close together. Haerin never showed any interest in the arts before this, so why would she be into drawing all of a sudden?

“Um, it’s nice? I think? What is it supposed to be?” I ask.

“It’s you kissing a shadow monster.”

My arm lurches wildly to the side, inadvertently tossing her notebook across the room. Does she know? How does she know!? She wasn’t there, right? Right!?

“That wasn’t very nice, Minj,” Hanni chides, picking the notebook off the ground. “I think it’s very unique and has a lot of character. She even got your ponytail right. Good job, Kitty Kang.” She pats Haerin’s head, bringing a pleased smile out of her, yet her eyes stay glued to me like a predator stalking its prey. I’m starting to wonder if she ever even blinks.

“Sorry, Haerin, I just feel out of it today. It’s a, uh… lovely drawing,” I sigh, resting my head onto my palm.

“Yah, you’re bumming me out, Minj. Let’s do something fun instead of all this prom garbage. Karaoke?” Hanni suggests. They both look at me expectantly, which only makes my answer even more painful.

“I would love to, especially today out of all days, but I have to prepare for a banquet tomorrow.”

“A banquet? You never told us about that. Ooh, can we come?” Hanni pleads, flashing her big eyes and pouty lips.

“I, um… It’s for my family’s business. They said I couldn’t invite anyone, sorry.” Oh god. Lying to my parents is one thing, but lying to my best friends? The people I trust more than anybody in the entire world? My own words leave a bitter taste in my mouth, more bitter than the strongest black coffee. But what am I supposed to tell them? That I invited Yu- him instead of my own closest friends? Even if his presence serves some kind of purpose, I still can’t imagine how they would react if I told them I basically chose a boy over them. No matter how I try to justify it, it still feels wrong.

“Aww,” Hanni pouts. While she’s distracted, I notice Haerin picking up her notebook and pointing at the “shadow monster” in her drawing with a scrutinizing squint. I try to ignore her, keeping a straight face, but it’s becoming more clear that she knows something’s up.

“I’ll make it up to you guys some other time,” I say, gathering my things. “Next time we go to karaoke, I’ll pay for everything, snacks, drinks, whatever, alright?”

“Woo! I won’t say no to that!” Hanni cheers, skipping out of the student council room. I get up to follow her, but a tug on my sleeve stops me. Haerin stares at me blankly, unblinking, for what feels like forever. It’s normally hard to read her, but especially now when my mind has been in a constant whirlwind for the last couple hours, all I can come to are a few thousand anxiety-ridden conclusions. She suddenly moves her hand upwards with the focused intensity of a cat, waving it around before finally landing her index finger on the middle of my forehead.

“U-um, Haerin, what are you-”

“You’re overthinking things. Go with your gut,” she states before putting her notebook back into her bag like nothing ever happened.

“What are you talking about-”

“If you’re not gonna admit it to us, at least admit it to yourself. It’s not healthy to keep things bottled up, you’re barely floating as it is.” Haerin goes up to the door, stopping to look back at me. “Are you coming with us or not?”

“O-oh, right, yeah.” I can barely process her words as I follow the two of them off campus. What does she mean by “overthinking”? I’m not overthinking, I’m thinking a perfectly healthy amount. I just have a lot on my plate, so there’s a lot I need to think about. That’s not overthinking, that’s just… thinking a lot. I need to be thinking a lot, or else I run the risk of letting a ton of people down. My parents, the entire student body, my friends. Once I get a quiet moment to myself, I’ll be fine. Right? Right?

______________________________________________________________

I kick off my shoes by the front door, ready to land face first into my bed and turn off my brain for a couple hours. Unfortunately, fate has other plans for me.

“Minji! Welcome home, dear!” My mom announces from the living room, her tone a bit too cheerful to not raise any immediate red flags. “How was school?”

I fight back an exhausted sigh. “It was fine, Mother. I’m just gonna go up to my room and-”

“Oh, well don’t go upstairs yet! The Parks are here, come say hello!”

The Parks are what!? My eyes shoot up, scanning the living room. Mr. and Mrs. Park sit on the sofa, offering me kind smiles. But if they’re here, does that mean-

“Minji! Long time no see!” My worst nightmare rounds the corner with my father in tow, laughing like they’re old buddies or something. My skin crawls as he walks towards me with his arm spread out like he’s about to hug me. I wanna run and hide, but I’m too terrified to move. In the end, all I can do is try not to vomit on his shoulder as he wraps me up in an awkward hug.

Is this real? Surely this isn’t real, right? Maybe this is all just some sick nightmare and I’m still sleeping in the nurse’s office. Please let this be just a nightmare.

“Cat got your tongue or something?” He jokes, finally releasing me from his grasp.

“Sunghoon, it’s uh… good to see you.”

Father walks up and clasps his hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder. “Sunghoon was just telling me that he’s considering transferring over Evergreen for the rest of the school year. Isn’t that great, Minji?”

“He WHAT!?”

Everyone turns to look at me, shock and concern written all over their faces. “I-I mean what a great surprise! That’s just… so, so, sooo great to hear,” I say through bared teeth. “I have an, uh, important test tomorrow that I need to study for, so I’m just gonna go up to my room and-”

“Why don’t you bring Sunghoon with you, dear?” Mother suggests, oblivious to the fact that she’s slowly destroying my life. “It’ll give you two time to catch up without us adults getting in the way.”

I muster up the most convincing smile I can and say, “S-sure. That would be great. Just… great.”

I stomp up the stairs to my room with Sunghoon in tow, immediately collapsing onto my bed without giving him a second thought.

“Your room is nice,” he says, shutting the door behind him and effectively taking away my only way of escape. Maybe there’s some soft bushes I can land on if I jump out the window. If not, at least death seems more favorable than being stuck in here with the worst human being alive.

“Mhm,” I mutter, half-listening to whatever he has to say.

Sunghoon paces around my room, looking around at my posters and my desk before picking up Mr. Bear from my bed. “I see you’re still into teddy bears,” he chuckles to himself.

“Put that down!” I grab Mr. Bear from his grasp and glare coldly at him, causing him to back off with his hands up.

“Alright, it’s clear that there’s still some bitterness so I might as well just go ahead and address the elephant in the room: I’m sorry for the way I treated you when we were kids. I was an immature little brat and I should’ve treated you better. Will you forgive me?”

That was… surprisingly mature. Did the original Sunghoon die in an accident and got replaced by a nicer clone? Does he have an illegitimate twin brother that replaced him and took his name after Mr. and Mrs. Park realized how much of a gremlin their son is? Any of those explanations seem more plausible than Sunghoon actually maturing.

“Uh… sure, I guess,” I say, still weirded about this sudden revelation. He grins at me, sitting next to me on the bed. “Um, I’m sorry for yelling. It’s been a, uh… long day.”

“No worries, I deserved it.” Jeez, this new understanding side of Sunghoon is so off putting. If he acted like old self, at least that would be predictable. This feels like walking through uncharted territory without so much as a map or even a flashlight.

“Your mother told me that you’re inviting a friend to the banquet tomorrow,” he continues. “Some guy named Yuno. What’s he like?

“He’s…” Oh god, I can’t even think properly about him right now after what happened in the nurse’s office. I still haven’t been able to process my own feelings about it. What was he thinking? What was I thinking? I can’t even remember where my mind was during that whole thing, yet I can remember everything else so vividly; his warm breath dancing against my skin, his kind eyes peering into mine with so much care behind them, his soft lips inching closer and closer-

“Minji? Are you alright?” Sunghoon nudges my shoulder, taking me out of my impromptu trip down memory lane. I sink my face into Mr. Bear’s head, hiding the growing blush on my cheeks.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Like I said, long day,” I reason. “Um… He’s nice. A little shy, but he means well.”

“Are you sure you two are friends?” He chuckles at me. “It doesn’t seem like you know him very well.”

“We, uh, haven’t been friends very long,” I explain. As weird as it is, Yuno and I have only known each other a couple of days, yet it feels like so much longer than that. Now that I think about it, we’ve run into each other everyday since we met, even on the weekend. For the past three years of attending the same high school, he’s been nothing but a body walking through the hall or the utterance of a name whenever he stirred up trouble, but now, we’re so intertwined in each other’s lives like he’s been there from the start. Without him, I probably would’ve gotten attacked by that drunk man and I never would’ve gotten over my fear of spiders. His presence has become so integral to my life, I can’t imagine him not being there in some way.

“Do you like him?” Sunghoon asks suddenly, glancing at me.

I… I don’t know. I don’t know what to think or feel about him. He is a part of my life, but I just… I don’t know. “As a friend, yeah,” I utter, unsure of the words coming out of my own mouth.

He nods, grinning to himself. “Good.”

“What do you mean ‘good’?” My eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Oh, nothing, just, uh… thinking out loud.” He gets up from my bed and walks towards the door. “I’ll let you study for your test now, I’d hate to interfere with your academics. See ya tomorrow, Minji.”

“Yeah, see ya…” He shuts the door behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Instead of getting up and doing something productive to distract myself, all I can do is lie there and stare at the ceiling, wondering when everything became so complicated.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

“Yuno, are you okay? You’re blanking out again,” Winter says.

“Hm? Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little headache.”

Honestly, I would prefer it if it was just a little headache rather than the fucking tornado that’s been running rampant through my mind. During the entire walk from the school to the convenience store, all I could do was stare at the ground and let my legs blindly follow behind Winter and Yujin. Hell, I barely even noticed we came to the convenience store until just now.

“Shouldn’t you go to the doctor? You don’t look very good,” Yujin says.

“I’ve been through worse.” Both of them still stare at me, unconvinced of my wellbeing. “I’ll feel better after I sleep it off, alright? You guys don’t have to worry about me.”

“How can we not worry about you, you got hurt b-because of me…” Winter’s voice falters as tears begin to well within her eyes.

“Ah jeez. Look, I…” My mind wanders back to what Minji said to me in the nurse’s office before I did… that: But that doesn’t mean you should go through these kinds of things alone. Your friends were worried sick about you.

“I’m sorry. To both of you. I should’ve let you two know what was going on instead of running in alone and letting myself get hurt. It won’t happen again, okay? I’m done fighting,” I say. Both of them look up at me in surprise.

“So no more Super Yuno?” Yujin asks.

“Uh yeah. No more, uh, ‘Super Yuno’.” If there’s a silver lining in any of this, it’s definitely getting rid of that ridiculous nickname.

“Hmm…” Yujin’s gaze falls to the ground in contemplation. “When superheroes in comic books get hurt, they usually have some kind of healing factor or revival ability that helps them get back up no matter how much damage they take. But you…” He looks up at me, his own eyes glossy with sorrow. “...You’re real. You don’t have any superpowers to help you. It was really scary seeing you not wake up, Yuno. I-I don’t… I don’t want to see you get hurt anymore.”

“Me neither,” Winter adds.

The three of us sit in silence with nothing but the crickets and the gentle howl of the passing breeze to let us know the world is still moving. The weight of their words sink deeper into me, making me feel even more guilty for my lack of consideration. Things are different now. I can’t act like I’m still living the same life I was a couple days ago, and frankly, I don’t want to go back to that life of solitude and pain. I need to change for the better. For me. For my dad. For my friends. For Min… For her.

I clap Yujin on the back, ruffling his hair. “You guys won’t have to see me get hurt anymore, alright? I really am done fighting.”

Winter smiles at me, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’m glad.”

“Me too,” Yujin chuckles.

My lips form into a grin, a feeling I’m starting to get used to. “But if anyone messes with either of you, I don’t mind coming out of retirement for a little bit.”

The sounds of their laughter float with the wind, carried wherever fate takes them. I always viewed fate as cruel and unyielding, rendering our sense of choice to nothing but dust. But every once in a while, it’ll surprise me with something new, not necessarily good or bad, just different. This, however, is good. Unequivocally good. It can be convoluted and annoying at times, but still good.

“How’s the student council president?” Winter asks, making my shoulders tense up suddenly.

“Oh yeah, she looked really worried about you. Danielle told me that she’s never seen her act like that before,” Yujin says.

My gaze drifts to the side, unable to meet their eyes. “U-uh, she’s fine. We talked. We’re, uh, cool.” I can’t even imagine how she must be feeling right now after I did all that. What am I supposed to say to her? Do I just pretend like nothing happened? That I didn’t just try to kiss her? OUT OF NOWHERE? I clutch my head as I devolve into another tumultuous storm of uncertainty and anxiety. I need to get this feeling out of me. I need to… I…

“I almost kissed her,” I blurt out. Winter and Yujin’s jaws drop in utter shock at my confession. My entire face burns with shame, but my soul feels lighter now that I finally acknowledged it.

“Uh, what do you mean almost?” Winter asks after several seconds of stunned silence.

“I-I, uh… Fuck…” I inhale deeply, steadying my breath. “We were just talking and then suddenly her face was really close and I kinda just… leaned in… uh…” The more I blabber, the warmer my entire body feels, yet going back and reliving that moment so clearly feels oddly nice in a way. Instead of it being a dream, it was real. I almost got to see what happens at the end of that dream instead of waking up in my bed.

Both of them lean in with amused smirks, completely intrigued by my stupid little accident. “Do you like her?” Winter asks.

“Y-yeah, I do. A lot.”

“Aw, look at him, he’s blushing,” Yujin teases.

I turn my head, hiding my face into my hands. “Sh-shut up…”

“I think it’s very cute that you have a crush on her. Minji seems like a really nice girl,” Winter says, amused. “Are you gonna ask her out to prom?”

“I, uh… I don’t know.”

“Why not? I think you should go for it if you really like her.”

“I don’t know how she feels about me. I mean, I know she thinks of us as friends, but more than that…” I sigh, my shoulders slumping towards the ground. “Minji has a lot going for her, and I’m just me.”

“How did she react when you almost kissed her?” Yujin asks.

“She, uh… She ran out of the room in a panic.”

Both of them turn to each other in contemplation. “Well, that could mean anything,” Winter says. “Regardless of what you think she feels, you should ask her out or else you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life. I didn’t think Karina would ever like me, but look where we’re at now.”

“Yeah, Yuno!” Yujin adds. “We’ll even help you with your promposal! I can make posters and-”

“N-no!” I interject. “No posters. I don’t want to make a big deal out of it. I already know what people think of me, so to put that kind of attention on her would be cruel.”

Amused smirks grow on their faces as they exchange knowing glances at each other. “That was really sweet, Yuno,” Winter says, gushing.

On second thought, maybe it’s better if I didn’t tell them all of this; God knows I won’t hear the end of it for the next week. But as I look at the sincerity in their smiles, a warm feeling stirs within me. Maybe it’s better I did.

______________________________________________________________

My hand rests on the doorknob of my home, frozen by the impending dread of having to come clean and explain the sudden influx of cuts and bruises marking my body. If he’s going to be in my life again, he’ll have to deal with the fact that I made and will continue to make really shitty mistakes. I just hope I’m able to learn from them every once in a while.

With a deep breath, I enter my home to find him sitting alone at the dining table, his leg bouncing restlessly as he stares blankly at nothing. All the lights in the house are off, save for the single one floating right above him, creating an ominous tension that blasts me from the doorway.

“Uh, hey, Dad.”

“Yuno!” I expected anger, disappointment, maybe even disgust, but instead I’m met with relief as he walks over to me, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Your principal called me earlier, I was worried sick about you. Are you okay?

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I thought I would get tired of reiterating for the umpteenth time that I’m fine, but having people around me that care enough to worry gives me this tingling feeling in my chest. It feels… nice, actually.

“Are you getting bullied at school?” He asks worriedly.

“No, it’s nothing like that. It was just a stupid fight.” Some could argue that I’m the bully at the school, and maybe they’re right, but at least I pick on people that deserve it instead of defenseless underclassmen.

“Do you need me to take you to the hospital or something?”

“I’m fine, I’ve been through worse. Just need a little rest,” I say. He begins to speak, but stops and sighs instead.

“Alright. Just let me know if you need anything, okay?” I nod. “I trust you know how to take care of yourself by now, but I’m always gonna be here if you need me.” He walks over to the kitchen and pours himself a cup of water, but instead stares pensively at it, watching his reflection in the cup.

“Actually, I could use a ride after school tomorrow,” I say. “I was, uh, invited to a banquet.”

He looks up from the cup, his brow raised in curiosity. “Really? What for?”

“Minji - the girl you met at the mall - she invited me,” I explain.

My dad smirks, finally showing a positive emotion for the first time since I got home. “Sure thing, I can drive you.” 

“Thanks, dad.” I grin at him before heading upstairs to my room. 

The easy parts are over. I apologized to Winter and Yujin, and accidentally let my feelings for Minji slip out. I talked to my dad and he seemed to take things better than I thought he would. Now there’s just one person left I have to talk to, arguably the most important I need to talk to: Minji.

I stare at my phone, my eyes rereading our previous texts over and over again. Should I call her? What would I even say? Even texting her seems like an impossible feat at this point. After she freaked out and ran out of the nurse’s office, I’ve been struggling to think of how I should address the incident. Hell, I’ve been struggling on how I should feel about it myself. I did, technically, want it to happen, but couldn’t I have chosen a more opportune moment to do it? Y’know, like after knowing for sure what she feels about me? God, I’m a fucking idiot.

To add salt to the wound, I end up going for the coward’s way out, typing up a message that avoids the issue entirely because acting like everything is fine is surely the best course of action.

Yuno: Hi. What should I wear to the banquet? And what’s the address?

Feelings are so exhausting.

______________________________________________________________

Compared to how “eventful” yesterday was, Tuesday went by in the blink of an eye. The weird stares were still there, even more so thanks to my injuries, and Tyler’s group of friends in English class seemed to be down a couple of guys. Not my problem, less trouble for me and it’s not like I even hit any of them. Minji never responded to the text I sent last night. To make matters worse, every time I saw her in the hallway, she avoided eye contact completely and ran the opposite direction. If she told me that what I did was disgusting and to never talk to her again, I would at least understand, but to avoid me completely when I’m literally going to a banquet with her feels like cruel and unusual punishment.

I sigh, banging my head into my locker. Not the greatest decision given my condition, but I don’t give a shit anymore. I just want the girl I like to talk to me.

“Is she still avoiding you?” Winter asks from next to me.

“Yeah,” I utter sadly. “Maybe I messed up. Maybe she doesn’t want to be friends anymore.”

Yujin pats my shoulder in support. “Don’t worry about it, Yuno, you’ll get a chance to talk to her eventually. Didn’t you say you were going to that banquet with her tonight? You can talk to her then!”

“She hasn’t even given me the address, how am I supposed to get there?” I reason. “Maybe this is her way of telling me not to come.”

Winter and Yujin exchange worried glances while I lean against my locker, thinking about everything and nothing. Is this what it feels like to have something good ripped away from you all of a sudden? It sucks. It fucking sucks. Part of me wishes I never met Minji in the first place just so I never have to feel like this.

Just then, Minji’s tall friend walks past, offering a polite wave. What’s her name again? It starts with an H… Not Hanni… Harry… Halsey… Hyemi…

“Hyein!” I call out, rushing over to her.

“Hello, Minji’s friend!” She says. “What’s up?”

“Have you talked to Minji at all today?”

“Of course I have!” She smiles like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Why?”

“Has she, um, said anything about me?” I may sound feeble and desperate, but that’s because I am. If Minji hates my guts, then I need to know, or else I’m gonna be walking around like a hopeless idiot.

“Hmm… No, I don’t think she’s said anything about you.”

“Oh…” I hang my head, completely dejected. Not only did I get any new information, but now her friends are gonna think I’m a weirdo. “Well, next time you see her, can you ask her to check her texts? She hasn’t given me a response yet.”

“Why can’t you tell her yourself? Did something happen between you two?” Hyein squints at me.

“N-no! I mean…” You tried to kiss her, you dumbass. “...maybe. I don’t know. Can you tell her that I want to talk? Please.”

“Hmm…” She studies my expression with an intense glare. “Okay, but I can’t promise anything. Whatever you did must’ve upset her a lot if she’s not talking to you all of a sudden.” I sigh, feeling my heart being ripped out of my chest. “Yeah, I figured. Thanks.” With my gaze fixed on the ground, I trudge back to my locker where Winter and Yujin are waiting. I wanna bash my head into the metal door so I can stop feeling like this, but I can’t even muster up the energy to do that. If only I didn’t catch a stupid crush on her.

A stupid, hopeless, foolish crush.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

Schoolwork. Study. Test. Prom. Schoolwork. Study. Test. Prom. Schoolwork. Study. Test. Prom. I feel like a robot running through a constant cycle to maintain peak productivity. I’ve accomplished so much in the day that I don’t even have time to think about anything else. With prom slowly approaching, my continuous cycle of work will eventually pay off and everyone will finally be happy.

The door to the student council room clicks open, but I don’t even flinch. Eyes are glued to the screen, typing up emails and researching venues until calluses form on my fingers.

“Uh, Minji?” I hear Danielle’s voice ask. “What are you doing in here with the lights off?”

Oh right. The lights are off. I didn’t even notice. The bluelight from my laptop has burned itself into my retinas. Even when I blink, all I see is the screen.

“Just working,” I mutter.

“Hey, girl,” Hanni says, concern laced in her tone. “We got you an iced coffee if you want it.”

“Thanks.” I take a sip, the caffeine having an immediate effect on me like adding coal to the furnace of a speeding steam train. Email sent. New tab opened up. Check notification. Look at potential venues. Don’t think. Just work.

A hand slams my laptop shut. “Hey! What are you-” I look up for the first time to see all of my friends looking down at me with worry all over their faces.

“I told you keeping things bottled up isn’t healthy,” Haerin states, her hand holding my laptop closed.

“W-what are you talking about?” I ask, annoyed. “Can’t you see I’m trying to work!?”

“Minj, look at yourself! This isn’t just stress anymore, you look like a zombie!” Hanni exclaims.

I scoff, rubbing my hands over my face. “I’m fine, I’m just working on prom like usual. Haerin, give me back my-” I reach for my laptop, but Haerin snatches it away. “Haerin, what are you doing!? I’m in the middle of something important!”

“Minji, what is going on with you?” Danielle asks in a calm yet concerned tone. “You’ve been acting weird ever since yesterday.”

I feel like my head is about to explode. What are they not understanding!? Of course I’m going to be mad, they just took away my laptop! If anything, they’re acting weird! “I told you guys, I’m fine-”

“Is this about what happened between you and Yuno?” Hyein asks from the corner of the room. My gaze shoots towards her. Her hands are trembling by her sides like leaves in a heavy storm, barely holding onto the branch they’re a part of. Tears threaten to burst from her eyes. She’s scared, terrified. Of me.

My legs give out from underneath me as my vision becomes blurry with tears. A blanket of warmth covers me as the girls hold me in their gentle embrace. I don’t deserve them. I’ve been lying and keeping secrets from them, and now I yelled at them. All for what? A boy? Have I lost sight of what really matters in my life just because I think I have feelings for someone?

It takes a while for me to come down from the overwhelming wave of emotions. By the time my tears stop, I find myself surrounded by my friends’ caring gazes. The four people I trust most in the world, but also the ones I need to apologize to.

“I-I’m sorry guys,” I begin. “I know I said I’ve been stressed, but that doesn’t excuse my outburst. You guys don’t deserve to be yelled at like that.”

Hanni tenderly brushes my hair with her fingers, letting me rest my head on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Minj, we know you didn’t mean it. We’re just really worried about you.”

“Yeah,” Danielle adds. “It’s clear that this isn’t just about prom anymore.”

“What did Yuno do to you?” Hyein asks.

“He didn’t, um…” I take a deep breath, steadying my heartbeat. “When he got into that fight yesterday, it really scared me. Seeing him pass out like that, I thought he was d… gone. It felt like I couldn’t breathe properly until I knew he was alright. All I could think about was ‘Why did this have to happen to him? It’s so unfair. He doesn’t deserve this at all’. When Yuno finally woke up, it was like… everything felt right again. I was so relieved. And then I looked into his eyes and thought ‘I never want to see you get hurt again’. And I…” My cheeks start to burn as my voice falters. The girls begin to stare at me with intrigue, waiting for me to finish my sentence.

“I-I… I almost kissed him.”

The room fills with collective gasps as each of them freeze in shock. I bury my face into Hanni’s shoulder, each passing second of silence making me feel even more embarrassed.

“W-what do you mean almost?” Danielle asks, the most disturbed out of the four of them.

“The nurse came in before we could, uh… finish,” I say, my voice muffled by Hanni’s shirt.

“OH. MY. GOD.” Hanni squeals. “Girl, tell us everything! Who initiated? What did he say to you? Did he go right or left-” Haerin clasps her hand over Hanni’s mouth, shaking her head disapprovingly. Thank god, I don’t know how much longer I could’ve taken her questions. 

“Is that why you were avoiding him all day?” Hyein asks. I sigh, nodding sadly.

“Every time I saw him, I panicked and ran away like an idiot,” I admit. “I don’t know what to think or how to feel.”

“Do you like him?”

I stare at the ground in contemplation, thinking about the past few days with Yuno. Despite what others think of him, he’s proven himself to be kind hearted and loyal, oftentimes putting his friends above his own well being. He’s saved me countless times, never once asking for any sort of recompense, and he’s shown that he’s willing to change for the better, even if it might go against his own ideas of justice. Yuno is a good guy, a great friend, and…

“Yeah,” I nod. “I think I do like him.”

“You think?” Danielle asks, unconvinced.

“I don’t know, I’ve never had a crush on anybody before.”

“Minj, that is so cute!” Hanni chimes. “You should ask him to prom!”

“Shouldn’t he ask me…?”

Haerin shakes her head. “It’s 2024, subjecting yourself to outdated ideals will only leave you disappointed. Get with the times, grandma.”

I side-eye her, grimacing at her insult. “Whatever. I don’t even know if he feels the same and I’d rather not do something drastic to ruin our friendship.”

“But you’ll never know if you don’t try,’ Hanni says. “You’re gonna regret it if you don’t tell him how you feel.”

“I know, but I can’t just rush into something like this without thinking first,” I argue. “Besides, I’m busy with a thousand things right now, I don’t even think I have time for a relationship.”

Danielle takes my hand in hers, looking me in the eye. “You should do what makes you happy, Minji. I mean, look what happened when you bottled up everything inside and put other people’s feelings above your own. Forget everyone else right now and focus on your own happiness for once.”

“But-”

“No buts,” she snaps. “I can get the other student council members to pick up the slack on prom preparations, so go out, have fun, and date a stupid boy. And if he hurts you, then you have the four of us to fall back on.” The others nod in agreement, smiling brightly at me.

“Thanks, guys.” I quickly clap my hands over my eyes in an attempt to stop another onslaught of tears. “God, I feel like I’m gonna cry again.”

“Aww, you big softie,” Hanni says. “Come here.”

The four of them pull me into a warm group hug that melts all my worries away. Honest to God, I don’t know what I would do without them. These girls are like my own little life raft, keeping me afloat even when I fall overboard. 

I take out my phone and send a text that I should have sent ages ago.

Yuno: Hi. What should I wear to the banquet? And what’s the address?

Minji: hey :) just wear something nice! the address is 0507 Ador Ln. don’t be late, there’s something i want to talk to you about.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, checking if my outfit is okay for the millionth time. “just wear something nice!” she says, yet the only nice clothes I have are some light blue jeans and the bear sweater that I bought on a whim. I’m not sure if “nice” is how I would describe this outfit, but I don’t exactly have any other alternatives.

I would be lying if I said her text didn’t make my heart feel so much lighter. It doesn’t matter how stupid I look as long as I finally get to clear things up with her. Not being able to talk to her at all for the past day has been complete hell, I wouldn’t wish the feeling on my worst enemy. Yet, a part of me feels downright terrified. What is she gonna say to me? Will we still be friends after this? I’ll have to hold onto this dreadful suspense until I see her, and probably even longer depending on how the banquet goes. Hopefully we can get over this quickly so I can finally breathe normally.

My dad knocks on the bathroom, peeking his head through the open door. “You ready to go?” He asks.

“Yeah, uh…” I pause, awkwardly looking at the ground. “Do I look okay?”

He chuckles at me, patting my shoulder. “You look great. I’m sure she’ll like it.”

I take one last look at myself in the mirror before heading out to the car, my heartbeat ringing in my ears as we head to the banquet.

Naturally, the banquet takes place on the far side of the town where all the rich people live. Grandiose buildings line the streets as opposed to the regular suburban houses I’m used to, larger and shinier than anything I’ve ever seen, their opulence almost blinding under the streetlights. Even my dad looked impressed, staring at all the different houses that we could never dream of affording. All of this only serves as a reminder that I don’t belong in this world and never will. To Minji, this is just another Tuesday for her. I sigh, the pit in my stomach growing deeper and deeper.

The banquet hall sits atop a hill overlooking the town as if it's looking down on everyone else with disgust. As we drive up to the building, the frequency of luxury cars increases, making our car look like garbage on wheels in comparison. The closer we get, the more I’m starting to regret my decision to come along. A few guests are talking outside, dressed in their finest tailored suits and elegant gowns. I look down at the bear on my sweater with shame. I didn’t want to stand out, yet I’m basically wearing a giant sign that says “look at me, I’m an idiot.”

Near the entrance, I spot Minji wearing a stunning black dress that compliments her natural beauty. Simple yet sophisticated… And I’m wearing this god damn bear sweater. Maybe it’s not too late to turn around and go back home. I’ll tell her my body started hurting all of a sudden and I can’t move and-

“Hey,” my dad says, patting my shoulder. “It’ll be okay. Go have fun.”

I nod, taking one more deep breath before stepping out of the car. “A-alright. Uh, thanks for giving me a ride.”

He smiles at me. “Of course. Text me when you want to leave and I’ll come right away. Bye, Yuno.” I watch as the car disappears down the hill, leaving me completely stranded with no way of escaping. All I can do is face this head on, like I’ve always done.

With each step I take towards Minji, my heart beat rings louder and louder in my ears. The gnawing insecurity in the pit of my stomach makes it hard to breathe, yet I continue forward towards the impossibly beautiful girl that I’ve fallen completely in love with. Her black hair flows like waves curling from a waterfall, light and airy, as she exudes an air of elegance and grace. If I survived a beating from a group of guys, then I can survive this one night. For her.

“Min-”

“Hey Minji!” A loud voice calls out from behind me. The source of the voice, a tall guy wearing a sophisticated suit, walks over to her and pulls her into a hug. My blood immediately begins to boil with rage. Who the fuck is this guy!?

“You look great! How are you doing?” I hear him ask her.

“U-uh, thanks, I’m fine, um…” Minji spots me, her face lighting up instantly. “Yuno!” I do my best to hide the growing smirk as he looks back at me with bewilderment.

“H-hey. Hi,” I say to her.

“I’m glad you could make it,” she replies, smiling at me. God, I missed that smile. I missed hearing her voice. It’s only been a day, but it feels nice to finally talk to her again.

“Um, hello? Aren’t you gonna introduce me to your friend, Minji?” The tall guy says. He must be the one Minji was warning me about, I can already tell he gives off a pompous energy.

“Ah right. Yuno, this is Sunghoon, Sunghoon, this is my friend from school, Yuno,” Minji says.

“What’s up, man?” Sunghoon reaches his hand out towards me, which I nearly shake before realizing I still have the gauze wrapped around my hand. “Oh damn, what happened to your hand? Are you some kind of fighter or something?” He jokes. Minji gives me an apologetic look while I simply shake my head.

“Cooking accident. I’m fine,” I say, lowering my hand.

“That sucks, man, uh…” He looks down at my sweater, his lips widening into an amused smirk. “Cool sweater, man, where’d you get it? Balenciaga? Armani? Target?” he chides, laughing at his own shitty joke. I shoot a glare at him which makes him shut up pretty quickly.

“I’m just joking man, jeez,” he says. “I’m gonna head inside, Minji. I’ll get us a good table.” Sunghoon winks at her before walking off towards the building, leaving me and Minji alone finally.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry about him, Yuno,” Minji apologizes.

“It’s fine.” I gaze into her eyes for the first time since arriving, my heart skipping a beat as I got lost in the deep browns of her irises. The stars reflect off of them, containing the beauty of an entire galaxy right in front of me. “U-um, is this sweater okay? I, uh, didn’t really have any nice clothes to wear,” I blabber awkwardly.

“It’s, uh… It’s cute,” she says, her face lighting up as she looks at the bear. “Aw, he’s wearing little overalls. It’s like he’s a little farmer bear.”

I turn my head, quietly giggling to myself. How can someone look so ethereal, yet act so adorable? “Oh right, you said you wanted to talk to me about something,” I say, fixing my expression.

“Oh, um… Uh…” Her gaze nervously shifts side to side as she messes with her fingers. “Can we, uh, talk about that later? My parents are probably waiting for me inside.”

I sigh, disappointed but also understanding. “Okay, that’s fine.”

She offers an apologetic look before leading the way into the building. As we walk through the doors, my jaw hits the floor from utter shock and awe. The banquet hall is a giant room adorned with pillars of flowers and a giant golden chandelier hanging overhead, illuminating the room with a brilliant light. Fancy-looking tables are spread out throughout the room, seating even fancier-looking people, laughing and sipping from skinny glasses of champagne as they talk. The looks I get from school are a little annoying, but bearable enough - They’re all just kids trying not to get into any trouble that I’m usually a part of - but being in this room, looked down upon by these people is a different beast entirely. Instead of being viewed as some scary monster that could act up at any moment, it feels like they’re scorning at me like a rat that wandered into the wrong place. It’s like Minji’s mom times a thousand in here.

“Are you okay, Yuno?” Minji asks, lightly grabbing onto my sleeve with a worried look.

“I-I’m fine,” I assure her. Before she can say anything else, an older man walks up to her, smiling.

“Minji! How are you doing, dear?” He says.

“Hello, Mr. Park! I’m doing well, how are you?” She replies, seamlessly slipping into a more professional tone.

“I’m doing great, of course. It’s great to be doing business with your parents.” He looks towards me, his face subtly shifting into that of disdain. “Who’s your friend here, Minji?”

“This is Yuno, he’s my friend from school.”

“H-hello, sir.” I reach out to shake his hand only to be met with a confused expression as he stares down at my gauze-covered hand. Sheepishly, I retract it, my gaze falling to the ground in embarrassment.

“Right… Well, my wife is probably wondering where I am and I wouldn’t want to keep her waiting,” Mr. Park says, not even glancing at me. “Good bye, Minji.”

I sigh dejectedly as he walks off, both grateful that he’s gone and annoyed at myself for not making a better first impression. “That was… awful,” I mutter.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Minji soothes. “On the bright side, you’ll never have to talk to him again after tonight.”

“I don’t know, Minji, maybe me being here is a mistak-”

“Oh!” She takes an empty glass from one of the tables and hands it to me. “Here, hold this.”

I take it from her, giving her a quizzical look. “What do you want me to do with this?”

“Just hold up this glass with your right hand and people won’t shake your hand anymore. Problem solved, right?”

She’s trying so hard for me. What a saint. I truly don’t deserve her. “Yeah, okay,” I nod, mustering up a smile. “Thanks.”

“No proble-”

“Ay, that’s where you guys are!” Sunghoon pops out of nowhere, wrapping his arm around Minji. It’s taking every fiber of my being not to knock his lights out right now. “I was wondering where you two were.”

Minji pushes his arm off of her, side-eyeing him with contempt. “We were just talking,” she states.

“Well, I’m sure there’s a lot of people that would love to get to know Yuno. Isn’t that right, man?” Sunghoon firmly grasps my shoulder, pushing me towards a larger crowd of people culminating in the middle of the room. I could kill him if I want to (and I do want to), but with Minji here, I’m left at the mercy at whatever the hell this rich fuck plans to do. Whatever. I can survive talking to old people for a little bit.

The next hour crawls along as I’m swept through countless bouts of small talk with increasingly important people, constantly bombarded with questions that I don’t have the answer to.

“What are your plans after high school?”

“What university are you thinking of attending?”

“Have you started on your college admission papers?”

Minji and Sunghoon handled everything with ease, accustomed to the talk like they’re fluent in a second language, whereas I was barely floating by. Overwhelmed doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt. Minji tried her best to help me out, but with an abundance of other people talking to her, her plate was already full as it was.

Finally, after another uncomfortable conversation with a woman that didn’t even try to hide her disapproval, I found myself on the outer rim of the conversation. Minji and Sunghoon were in the middle, keeping everyone distracted, giving me a chance to escape. I spot a door at the edge of the room leading towards the outside. I take one last look at Minji, feeling guilty for leaving her like this, before scurrying out the door.

Fresh air fills my lungs, a luxury I didn’t know I had until now. I scramble over towards the railing, letting myself breath for the first time in what feels like years. Getting another beating would be more favorable compared to the hell that I just went through inside. I don’t know how Minji does that on a regular basis, I could barely get a coherent word out the entire time.

I lean against the railing, watching the full moon float slowly above the town as I ponder whether or not me being here is a good idea. Maybe I should’ve just given Minji a lame excuse and stayed home. Like a dazzling star in the sky, it feels like all I can do is watch her from afar while I’m trapped by the gravity of my own miserable little planet, destined to fade into mediocrity as she illuminates the night sky with her light. A part of me wishes I never offered to walk her home in the rain just so I would never have to feel this pain. But I did and now I’m paying the price for it.

Isn’t it so tragic? To fall for someone that’s so close yet so far?

“There you are.”

The clacking of high heels against the concrete gets louder with each step as Minji walks up next to me. “I was worried you got lost or something. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answer, not quite meeting her gaze. Minji slumps against the railing next to me, watching the moon.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I invited you here for a selfish reason, and after that backfired, I thought I could salvage it, but all I did was make you uncomfortable.”

“Hey, it’s fi-”

“And I’m sorry for ignoring you all day,” she says, her gaze falling to the ground. “I should’ve just talked to you instead of running away like an idiot.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that she finally acknowledged it. “It’s fine. I’m sorry too, for, um… y’know.” Heat rises to my cheeks as I’m reminded of why we’re in this awkward spot in the first place. If I just kept my urges in check, neither of us would’ve felt like this.

“U-um, it’s okay, that’s partially my fault too anyways,” she says, chuckling nervously. Minji looks up at the moon and inhales deeply. “It’s really pretty tonight.” Something in my head shifts as she utters those words, and I’m suddenly hit with a wave of deja vu as Minji shifts from “The daughter of the founder of a highly esteemed multimillion dollar company” to “The girl who’s afraid of spiders and likes teddy bears and dreams of becoming a singer one day against her parents’ wishes”. The girl that I fell in love with.

I nod in agreement, but all my focus is on Minji, more beautiful than any celestial body could hope to be. The wind makes her long, black hair float and ebb like a stream of the finest silk, while the Milky Way traps itself in her irises, containing the beauty of an entire galaxy in just her eyes alone. She shivers as another gust of wind floats past, and I contemplate whether or not I should give her my sweater. I’m wearing a tank top underneath, so it’s not like I would be flashing her all of a sudden…

Without anymore hesitation, I take the sweater off my back and hand it to her. “U-uh, here. Y-you seem cold,” I stutter awkwardly.

“O-oh!” Her cheeks turn a bright pink as she eyes my upper body, her gaze flying back and forth. “Thanks, that’s very, um, sweet of you,” she says, wrapping the sweater over her shoulders.

“Y-yeah, no problem…”

We stand there in complete silence, simply watching the moon as the crickets and the wind play their abstract melodies. The breeze may be cold, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth I feel in my heart for Minji. I want to tell her how I feel. I wanna scream it from the top of this hill for everyone to hear. But I can’t. What good would it do, knowing that it won’t work out? I know life has been nothing but cruel to me, but having the person who fills me with nothing but joy be this close to me yet still so far away is this cruelest act it’s committed. I’m cursed to live a life of mediocrity while Minji undoubtedly skyrockets to a space among the stars, a place that I can never hope to reach.

Minji glances at me, scanning the bruises on my arm. Without a single utterance, she gently traces her finger over them, leaving a line of electricity in its wake. “How are you feeling?” She asks softly.

“I’m fine. Like I said, I’ve been through worse,” I say.

She sighs, moving closer to inspect the injuries. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

I turn to her, her face much closer than before. “Y’know, I think you’re the first person to ever say that to me.”

“What do you mean?”

I shrug. “People don’t really talk to me in general. They’ll look at the cuts and the bruises and think that I probably deserve them. And maybe they’re right.”

“Hey,” she lightly chides. “Don’t say that, they’re not right at all.”

“I’m always sticking my neck into situations that I don’t belong in, it’s only natural for me to get hit every once in a while.”

“Still, that doesn’t mean you deserve to get hurt.” The worry in her tone begins to grow with each word.

“I’ve hurt countless people in the past, Minji. There’s literal blood on my hands. To say I don’t deserve some kind of divine punishment would be wrong.”

“O-okay, but-”

“And maybe this is it. This is my punishment.” I look in her eyes, tears slowly welling up within them. “My mother’s dead. My father became an alcoholic. I’m left to survive alone while people look at me like a monster. I constantly get into fights because I’m hard-wired to have this fucked up sense of justice that I have to act on for some reason. A-and…” And you. The greatest punishment of all is meeting you. Because I know that I’m not good enough for you and I never will be. No matter how much I like you, you’re always going to be light years away. 

“...My life has been nothing but a punishment, one after another. I deserve to-” “STOP!” Minji shouts, pushing me back a bit. “Just… stop, Yuno. You don’t deserve any of that. When I look at you, all I see is someone that’s been treated unfairly their whole life. You deserve to be happy. I-I mean, look at where you are now! You have friends that care about you, your dad is doing so much better now, and I…” She looks at me with steely determination. Her chest rises and falls with breath, as if she’s made up her mind about something.

And then she kisses me.

Her arms clumsily wrap around my head, pulling me into her lips. It’s rough and messy, yet so sweet and soft. The heat in my chest expands, hitting every cell in my body. I melt into her, placing my hands gently above her waist. All of my feelings for her are contained in my lips, transferring over in a silent exchange. Her lips are everything I’ve ever dreamed of and more.

Minji pulls away slightly to catch her breath, warm puffs of her dancing against my cheeks. We look into each other’s eyes, not a word spoken but so many things said before going back in for another, this kiss more gentle than the first. She softly cups my cheek, caressing me with her fingers. I pull her in, wanting to be as close to her as physically possible. I want nothing more than to be here in this perfect moment with her forever.

A glass shatters against the concrete, ripping us out of our blissful space. We scramble to get off of each other as Sunghoon stands there, his jaw dropped in shock.

“W-what… What the hell are you two doing?!”

[writerofsorts]

Moment of Suspicion

(image creds: to the owner)

pairing: jason dilaurentis x female reader.

summary: 2x03 "my name is trouble" episode imagine/rewrite.

warnings: none.

*read previous part here!

—————

A week later, [Y/N] came to an empty home from school. After grabbing a snack, she decided to do some reading before starting her homework.

Just as she finished up a chapter, her phone rang from next to her on her bed. When she saw the caller was Spencer, she frowned in worry. Placing the bookmark on the recent page, she closed the book before answering her phone.

"Hey, Spence," she greeted, placing her book on the nightstand before sitting up on the bed again. "Everything okay?"

"Hey, [y/n/n]. Yeah, everything's fine!" Spencer answered rather enthusiastically, which made [Y/N]'s brows furrow.

"Alright, Spence, spill," she said in a playful stern voice and heard Spencer sigh on the other end.

"I may have called you to ask a favor," the brunette answered slowly.

"Sure, what is it?" asked [Y/N].

"Toby's working for Jason and I'm really worried," Spencer explained. "Can you check on him for me, please?"

"Wait, since when did Toby start working for Jason?" [Y/N] questioned, surprised.

"Since this afternoon," Spencer replied.

"You don't sound too happy about it," [Y/N] said.

"How can I be?" Spencer sighed. "For all we know, Jason could be hiding Ian, protecting him, in that creepy house."

"Spence," [Y/N] sighed this time. "I still don't think Jason would want to help his sister's murderer."

"Then, how do you explain the shadow I saw in his house yesterday?" Spencer challenged. "[y/n/n], I was right outside talking to him when I saw someone move upstairs. And, he told me he lived alone. He was clearly lying."

[Y/N] remained silent, processing Spencer's words. She still didn't believe Jason could be helping Ian hide.

However, she did find Jason's sudden return to Rosewood pretty strange. It was true that he didn't owe anyone explanation; yet, his cold demeanor towards her friends confused her because she had thought he had changed after working on Ali's memorial with them.

"Hello? Earth to [y/n/n]?" Spencer interrupted her from her thoughts.

"Sorry, I'm here," [Y/N] replied, shaking her head, hoping to remove her suspicious thoughts regarding Jason. "But, yeah, I'll go check on him."

"Thanks so much, [y/n/n], I owe you one," Spencer breathed out.

"No problem," smiled [Y/N]. "But, I have to ask you something."

"Sure," Spencer replied.

"You literally live right next door to Jason," [Y/N] spoke. "Why not just peak and make sure Toby's okay?"

"I tried," Spencer sighed out. "But, I couldn't see anything."

"It's okay," [Y/N] chuckled. "Alright, I'll check on your defenseless boyfriend and update you soon."

"You're very funny, you know that?" Spencer deadpanned.

"Sorry, I just had to," [Y/N] giggled. "Don't worry too much, alright? I'm sure Toby's okay."

"I'll try," Spencer replied. "Thanks again, [y/n/n]."

"Of course, talk to you later," [Y/N] answered and the two said their goodbyes before hanging up.

…

Once [Y/N] got near the DiLaurentis house, she noticed a shirtless and sweaty Toby first, who seemed to be hard at work with a shovel in his hands. With another few steps, she noticed Jason who was dressed in a tight blue t-shirt and faded denim jeans as he placed some heavy bags in a wheelbarrow.

She took a deep breath in to calm her racing heart as she walked closer to the two men. Her steps must've been quiet because neither Toby nor Jason took notice of her, lost in their work.

"Hello," she greeted, causing the two men to look up at her in surprise.

"Hello, [Y/N]," Jason greeted her back with a smile, standing straight as Toby did the same.

"Hey, [y/n/n], what are you doing here?" Toby asked, resting his hands on top of the shovel.

"A little birdie told me that you got a job so I figured I'd stop by and say congratulations," she replied, hoping her breathy voice didn't give away how nervous she was -- especially with Jason's gaze on her.

"Is that little birdie's name Spencer?" Toby asked, smiling mischievously.

"Of course, not," [Y/N] said, a little too fast for her liking. "Haven't you heard? My friends and I are spending some time apart. Doctor's orders."

"I just saw you guys together recently," Jason replied before Toby could and [Y/N] looked at him. She knew he was talking about the time he caught the girls sneaking out at night a couple of days ago.

[Y/N] looked back at Toby, who had a Cheshire cat grin on his face.

"I wonder if that was before or after the doctor's orders," he commented.

"It- it was before," [Y/N] replied slowly and shifted to look at Jason when she noticed Toby didn't believe her words.

"It's alright, I won't tell anyone," Jason chuckled, holding up his hands. A few moments later, he cleared his throat before asking, "I'm gonna grab a drink. Do you guys want something?"

"I'm okay," Toby replied just as [Y/N] said, "No, thank you."

Jason gave her a smile in return before turning to walk inside the house.

"Alright, [y/n/n], what are you really doing here?" Toby asked quietly once Jason had disappeared inside the house.

[Y/N] sighed and walked closer to Toby, glancing at the closed door of the DiLaurentis house once.

"Spencer sent me," she admitted, making sure to keep her voice as quiet as Toby.

"I had a feeling," Toby sighed.

"She's really worried," [Y/N] said.

"Why is she so scared about me working for Jason?" Toby asked in genuine confusion. "I mean, he's been nothing but nice to me so far."

"She thinks he's hiding Ian," [Y/N] whispered, taking another glance at the shut door.

"That's insane!" Toby said a little loudly when [Y/N] shushed him.

"I don't know what goes through your girlfriend's brain," [Y/N] shrugged playfully.

"What do you think?" Toby asked her suddenly.

"Sorry?" [Y/N] frowned.

"Do you think Jason's suspicious too?" Toby questioned her and [Y/N] dropped her gaze from his for a moment.

"He hasn't really given me a reason to be suspicious about him so far," she finally said, looking up at Toby, who nodded at her in understanding.

Before Toby could reply to her, Jason walked out of the house, carrying out a trash bag with him.

"I would invite you guys in but the place is kind of crazy," he said once he was closer to Toby and [Y/N].

He threw the bag to the side when it opened and several bloodied gauze fell out of it.

[Y/N] stiffened in her spot and her eyes widened at the sight. She looked at Toby, who looked at her, concerned. She had a feeling Toby might've been reconsidering their conversation and to be honest, so was she.

"Uh, I cut myself," Jason explained with an awkward chuckle, rubbing his palms in his jeans.

"Hope you're okay now," [Y/N] said meekly once she was able to get some words out.

"Yeah, it was just a small cut," Jason replied and [Y/N] nodded.

"Well, I should get going now," she said, slowly backing out of the DiLaurentis yard. "It was nice seeing you two. Good night."

"Good night, [Y/N]," Jason answered.

"Thanks for stopping by, [y/n/n]," Toby told her with a smile. "Text me when you get home, okay?"

"Will do," [Y/N] smiled back at him and gave one last wave to Jason before turning around and making her way towards her home.

While walking, she sent a quick text to Spencer, letting the latter know that Toby was okay. She decided to keep the suspicious-bloodied-gauze from Jason's trash to herself as she knew sharing this with Spencer would make her friend go on a dangerous hunt to know what was up with Jason.

—————

[steddieas-shegoes]

if you want to use me, i could be your puppet

for @subeddieweek day four with the prompt edging

rated e | 2,505 words | please check ao3 for tags

Day one:  ao3 | tumblr Day two: ao3 | tumblr Day three: ao3 | tumblr

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

Eddie didn’t think this through.

Running from Steve’s bedroom, naked, meant he would have to find a hiding place.

He did not want to have to deal with this right now.

He didn’t need Steve seeing the way Eddie’s feelings would no doubt show on his face, how he’d be quick to brush off Steve’s apology.

How quickly he’d agree to continuing what they’re doing so he had something rather than nothing at all.

The house was quiet, dark, a reminder of how lonely Steve probably was when he wasn’t busy with the kids or Robin or him. No wonder he was always so quick to jump in bed with Eddie; He wanted a warm body to keep him company.

“Eddie! Wait!” Steve’s voice came from the top of the stairs, but Eddie didn’t turn.

Maybe if he locked himself in the downstairs bathroom, Steve would give up and he could sneak out to his van wrapped in a towel or something. He’d done worse.

Unfortunately, Steve was much faster than him, probably due to the whole jock thing. Eddie had no chance.

Steve’s hand burned where it touched Eddie’s arm, trying to make him turn around and face him.

“Please, Eds. Please look at me. Let me-”

“I don’t want you to explain, Steve.” Eddie turned to him, suddenly angry. How dare he ruin what they were doing? How dare he take something that was so precious and send it careening off the road so quickly? “I want to pretend it never happened. I want to go back to letting you touch me and kiss me and hurt me just right. I want to know you don’t mean it.”

“Why?” Steve sounded angry. “Why would you want that? Is it that bad? What is it about me loving someone that makes them wanna run in any other fucking direction than to me?”

And Eddie wasn’t really prepared for that.

He didn’t really know exactly what happened with Nancy or any of the other girls Steve had been with in high school. He didn’t really know much about any of his casual hookups. He just knew that Steve gave so much to anyone he cared about, and many people took more than was fair of him to give.

“Why can’t I love you, Eddie?”

Eddie looked at Steve, really looked at him.

His eyes were watery, red-rimmed as if he was doing everything he could to resist letting the tears fall. Eddie could see his flush cheeks, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to hold back a sob. His hands shook.

Eddie recognized this for what it actually was. Sure it was emotion, and maybe Steve felt it was genuine emotional turmoil.

But it was also the start of a panic attack, one that would quickly escalate to something Eddie wasn’t sure he could help Steve through.

“Steve, hey-”

“Don’t fuckin’ pacify me, man.” Steve’s breathing picked up and Eddie had to shut this down. “I can be upset.”

“Yes, you absolutely can. I’m not gonna tell you how to feel, but you definitely need to breathe, nice and slow.” Eddie put his hand on Steve’s bare chest, forgetting for a moment that they were both still naked, both still sweaty and sticky from everything they did in Steve’s bed.

“I am breathing.”

“You’re panting. You need to sit down.”

“I’m not sitting down-”

“Red.”

Steve froze.

Eddie immediately regretted saying it, hated that he was using this in a situation outside of their agreement.

He just needed Steve to stop and take care of himself for a second.

“That’s not fair,” Steve’s voice was shaky, unsure. He’d never heard it like that, not even when they first started this, not when they discussed the difficult things.

“It may not be fair, but neither is what you said.” Eddie looked behind him at the couch, the same couch Steve had held his hand while they talked about what they’d be into trying together. “Can we sit?”

“I dunno, are you gonna run again?” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, which would be a hilarious image any other time, but was currently just really sad.

“No. I’m not gonna leave.”

“Yet.”

“Yet,” Eddie agreed.

They both sat down on the couch, shifting until there was enough distance not to touch, facing each other.

Steve threw the blanket over their laps to at least make an attempt at being serious.

“I’m sorry I said it like that.” Steve sighed as he put his head back against the couch. At least he seemed to be holding himself together better now. Maybe Eddie could have a turn at a breakdown. “I shouldn’t have said it when we were still…”

“You shouldn’t have said it at all, Steve.” Eddie watched as Steve ground his teeth together. “I know you may think that’s what you’re feeling, but you were on a sex high.”

“I can see why you’d think that,” Steve sounded like he was doing his best to stay calm. “That’s why I shouldn’t have said it then. But I did mean it. That hasn’t changed and it won’t change.”

“Steve, be serious.”

“I am! I need you to be serious! I love you. I’ve loved you for long enough to know that’s what it is.” Steve turned his head and gave him a sad smile. “I know it wasn’t supposed to happen, and I know you don’t feel the same, but I’m glad I said it, even if it wasn’t how I planned to.”

Eddie had to remind himself to breathe as Steve’s words sank into his brain, consumed his chest and stomach, made the nerves in his body spark with a combination of hope and fear.

“How long?” Eddie squeaked out.

“You remember that night when we talked about our limits?” Steve grinned.

“That was…so long ago. What the hell?” Eddie slapped Steve’s knee, but didn’t pull it away fast enough. Steve’s hand grabbed his. “We’ve been around each other almost every day since then.”

“And I thought about it every day,” Steve admitted. “I was gonna ask you on a date first and make it a big romantic thing. I had a plan.”

“Steve, I-” Eddie shook his head. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to say these things to me to keep me around. I mean, it’s not like anyone’s lining up at my door. I wouldn’t trust anyone the way I trust you with all this. I kinda figured you’d be the one to call it off soon.”

Steve moved the blanket for a moment, tugged Eddie into his lap, and tilted his head to the side.

“I’m not going anywhere, Eds. You’ve got me and I’ve got you.”

How did he do that? How did he sound so sincere, so charming, after such an emotional admission?

“You’ve got me?”

“I’ve got you,” Steve surged forward, lips crashing against Eddie’s as his hands left bruises on his hips.

Eddie would be an idiot to let him go.

He would have to trust that Steve meant it, and he’d have to trust that his heart would be safe in Steve’s hands.

He already trusted him with everything else.

The blanket that had barely been around his waist slipped, half pooling on the couch next to them and half falling to the floor.

Steve pulled away, breathless.

“Will you?” He asked.

Eddie had no idea what he was actually asking. “Will I…?”

“Go on a date with me.”

“Yeah, Stevie. I’ll go on a date with you. You’re buying, though,” Eddie winked.

“Of course,” Steve nodded, leaning up to peck him on the lips. “I was thinking about a road trip. Heard there’s a new record shop opening in Bloomington if you wanted to check it out.”

“Fuck, you really do love me, don’t you? You know I could spend hours in there, right?” Eddie’s heart couldn’t handle the soft look in Steve’s eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll bring a cooler with drinks and snacks. It’ll be fun,” Steve shrugged.

Eddie inched back the tiniest bit and was suddenly reminded that they were very naked. And Steve was getting hard again.

“You know…this house is kinda quiet. Maybe we could…”

“Oh, you wanna be loud?” Steve raised his brow. “Hm. I guess I should give you a reason to be.”

The tone was different, not quite his usual teasing demand, but something that left Eddie wanting.

“Please. God, Steve, I need it, need you,” Eddie had no idea where this begging came from, or why he suddenly felt like he would die without Steve’s hands on him.

“I know what you need, baby,” Steve kissed his jaw, soft for what Eddie knew was coming. “But I need you to tell me your color first.”

“Green, so green.”

“Hey.” There was the demanding tone. “Look at me.”

Eddie had no choice but to look.

“I need you to think about it. Don’t think about how desperate you are. Are you okay with everything we talked about? Are you okay with me loving you?”

Eddie thought about it. Was he actually okay with their short conversation, the feelings Steve admitted to, what that would mean going forward for them? Or was he desperate in more ways than one?

No, no he definitely was okay with this. He’d been so worried that his feelings would never be returned, that he’d be in an endless loop of unrequited love, that he’d do what Steve did and let it slip while he was in space.

Having the guy he loved love him back was a best case scenario for him.

“Green.”

Steve’s lips were back on his, hungry, rough, almost more than Eddie was prepared for, but it wasn’t unwelcome. He sunk into the feeling, let himself drift into Steve physically so he could carry him away mentally.

“Wanna get my fingers in you. Think you can handle just spit?” Steve said as he nipped at Eddie’s neck, leaving red, leaving teeth marks. Eddie wished they could be permanent. Maybe he’d get them tattooed.

“Mhm, please,” Eddie nodded, ignoring the tiny part of his brain that was telling him to be responsible and get the lube. He’d be sore if they didn’t.

The louder part of his brain didn’t care about that, wanted to be sore. He could feel good now and deal with the limp tomorrow.

Steve’s fingers ghosted over Eddie’s lips, pressing down until his mouth opened. He sucked them in, three of them, moaning around them as he made sure they were slick enough to get inside with little resistance.

They were both impatient.

Steve pulled his fingers from Eddie’s mouth only a few seconds later, gently patting his cheek with his other hand when he whined at the loss.

“You’ll have me inside you again, baby.”

Steve didn’t waste another second.

His wet fingers rubbed against Eddie’s entrance, fingertips teasing along his rim and just barely pushing inside one at a time.

It was too much, not nearly enough, and almost exactly what Eddie needed all at once.

He was so close already, teetering on the edge of coming without a hand on him or fingers actually inside him, and it would probably be embarrassing if Eddie could think about a single thing that wasn’t the way heat was pooling in his stomach and chest.

“Close,” Eddie whimpered, bucking up against nothing as if that was even necessary.

Steve’s hands were gone. Just like that. No warning at all.

Eddie whimpered again, reaching his hands out to touch, to beg, to do whatever would get Steve’s hands back on him and finish the job he started.

“No, baby,” Steve said, shaking his head. “Not yet.”

And so it went.

Steve got a finger inside him, barely thrusting it in and out before removing it completely when Eddie would start rocking back into the touch.

Then there were two fingers, and Eddie could just barely feel the pressure against his prostate, begging for more or less or something that would be different from the current hanging by a thread he was doing.

He could feel himself drifting, knew he was mentally checking out from what was happening, but he could still hear Steve’s rough voice soothing him, guiding him.

Three fingers pressed inside him, slower than before, stretching him in a way he never could himself.

He felt full, used.

“Color, sweet boy,” Steve said from somewhere in front of him. Eddie was having trouble centering himself, couldn’t quite figure out where he was physically even though he knew he was with Steve.

The fingers inside him stilled, not working him open further or pushing and pulling until Eddie was naturally rocking back and forth.

Steve needed an answer. Eddie had to give him one.

“Green.”

“Good boy,” Steve praised.

Eddie pretended that didn’t make his heart flip-flop in his chest, but something must have given him away anyway. Steve was grinning at him knowingly, though he didn’t say anything.

“You’re gonna come when I tell you, right? Not a second earlier than that.”

At this point, Eddie was pretty sure Steve was in complete control of his body. He was simply the puppet on Steve’s strings.

“Answer me, Eddie.” Steve pushed against his prostate, making his body shiver and cock twitch.

“Only when you say,” Eddie gasped out, lifting his hips to pull away from the overstimulation, but immediately falling back down when he missed it. “Wanna be good for you.”

Steve groaned, and his fingers pushed in and out of Eddie faster.

He wanted to be good, but he was only human.

“St-” Eddie moaned. “-eve. Can’t-”

“‘S okay, baby. You can come now.”

And Eddie did.

Just like that.

The relief of finally being able to unclench his thighs, to actually feel the last string tethering him to earth snap as his release painted Steve’s stomach.

His fingers slowed, but didn’t leave him, keeping him stretched as he clenched around them during the waves of pleasure still wringing through him. He felt like he’d never stop feeling this deep pulsing, had to try to open his eyes to see if he was still coming somehow.

Steve was murmuring something against his hair.

When had he even fallen against Steve’s chest, face buried in his neck?

How long had he been just whimpering against him like a dog in heat?

“...So good for me, sweet boy. So proud of you for waiting for permission.”

Oh.

Praise like that wasn’t exactly a new part of their aftercare, but it was rare that Steve said it more than once or twice, usually just holding him in his arms in silence while Eddie came back down from the clouds.

He’d think about that later.

For now, he let his body relax, the noises stop, and his breathing slow.

He could sleep in Steve’s arms, feel the love pouring from his words and fingertips, and plant his feet on the ground in the morning.

Day five: ao3 | tumblr

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - I’m Not Above A Love To Cash In

@a-closet-emo @coyotecrackers @DizzlyPuzzled @vigilant-insomniac @Kawaiijohn @fangirlwriting-stories

Danny’s kind of out of touch with humanity, that was kinda the point in the end. He had a job to do, people and ghosts to protect, a dimension to rule, and crazy bigoted ghost hunters to keep in line; potential distractions and collateral weren’t useful for anyone. Though maybe those would have been good for Danny’s well being, not that he cared too much about that.

Danny sighed at the little envelope, how the heck any of them even tracked down where he was living he had no freaking clue. Oh well, it was here now, meaning he couldn’t feign ignorance. The A-listers, or whatever they called themselves these days, had set up a reunion and had invited even him ‘Freaky Fenton’. Course they also managed to get the ghost mailman to deliver one to Phantom as well, which was slightly insane because as far as they knew Phantom had literally never gone to school at all??? Wasn’t it kinda weird to invite someone that not only wasn’t in your grade but wasn’t even in the school, to a high school reunion? Eh whatever, who was he to dictate who they invited, Dash probably demanded it actually. Ugh. So that left him with what to do about it, it would be rude as fuck for either Danny to not show and it would hurt his image in both forms. Jack and Maddie would spin some story about how it was proof that Phantom didn’t care about people, and then would say the same about Danny Fenton except that Fenton had been ‘tainted’ by Phantom.

To say they weren’t getting along these days would be an understatement. It made him very happy he never told them about being Phantom as a teen though. That would have ended with him strapped down on a table, no doubt.

His whole secret identity was the entire problem here really, his forms looked effectively identical meaning the two sides of him never being seen right next to each other was kind of important. Even being in the same room was too big a risk, if someone simply glanced from one to the other it was obvious. In photos he was fine, since ghosts messed up photographs and videos so severely.

Absolutely no one would buy it that neither one of them noticed the similarities. And absolutely no one bought that ‘Phantom stole Fenton’s face’ thing his parents once tried to spin. So Danny trying to play the similarities off wasn’t going to work.

…

Well he could simply do the aggressively opposite thing. Have Fenton and Phantom near each other constantly and clearly aware of the similarities for some reason. Just what kind of reason should he come up with? Claiming twins would get disproven in a heart beat, especially because everyone would wonder why he waited fourteen fucking years to reveal that shit. He… could, maybe, spin some soul mates bullshit. Ghosts were weird and did weird things and worked in weird ways, people would buy them having legit soul mates and being weird as fuck about it.

He should work shop this a little.

Really sell it.

Fuck.

Danny’s totally going to pretend to be his own fucking boyfriend at a random ass reunion that he still doesn’t know how he wound up getting invited to.

…

Oh Ancients Jack and Maddie were going to lose their minds when they heard about this. That’s it. He’s sold. He’s dating himself for a night. Fuck it. They put him through hell, he’s gonna put them through a little hell too.

Now how to explain it… ghost soul mates copy the appearance of their mate? Why though… hmmm… he doesn’t have a good one for that. Maybe… to recognise them while they’re still alive? Technically that could stab him in the ass if Fenton him ever died but well… unless something killed him then he wouldn’t die, semi-immortality was kinda a bitch like that. Old age was gonna bite him in the ass no matter what. And if he did get his sorry ass killed, finally rested in deaths grasp, his appearance would change to his ghost king form fully meaning that his ass actually would be covered by this dumbass excuse. Okay he is mentally swearing way too much and should absolutely go to bed at this point, sleep deprivation was absolutely taking the piss outta him right now.

He’s definitely sticking with this dumb dating himself idea though, it was just too good and too stupid.

Had Danny’s fully rested opinion changed from his sleep deprived one? not a chance. Eleven years ago this would have been utterly impossible to do, but now? he’s got duplication down pat, all his powers he was pretty solid with now. Not having friends gave him a crap ton of free time. Again, positive sides to negative things.

Heck he doesn’t even know what Sam and Tuck- Tucker were up to these days, it’s better left that way too. He’d be too tempted to keep checking up on them if he looked into it, and he gave that up the day he died and decided to keep that to himself no matter what. That no matter what had become losing his friends, his family, his sleep schedule, his unmarred body, his childhood home, his dream job, his grades, everything he used to care about except the stars. The stars he could be closer to than every living being, so he made that enough for him, it had to be.

Because he couldn’t follow his former friends, he couldn’t follow his former parents, he couldn’t follow his sister, he couldn’t follow his former teachers, he couldn’t follow his dreams. He refused to take all of that down with him, because the only one or thing Danny Fenton followed was Danny Phantom, because all Danny Phantom followed was Danny Fenton. Guess ‘dating’ was just taking it to another step, an absurd one but absurd was his half-life already so it was okay.

… Better thing to wonder about was what the heck to wear? He could slap his Phantom self in some of his more humanly normal royal wear but Fenton him? He owned one suit and it was shit. Most of his clothes were shit, he never actually paid for them so most were either destroyed or cheap enough that he didn’t feel too bad about the act of theft. His morals were another thing he gave up following, at least following it to a tee anyways. Eh fuck it, he’ll ‘barrow’ some of ‘Phantom’s’ royal wear. He’s not wasting time, money, or further morals, on trying to get something decent in a human way.

When was this happening again?

…

Tomorrow. Of course. It was fucking tomorrow. Figures that it would take a while to mail shit to a ghost and figures that they’d be lazy about sending ‘freaky Fenton’ an invite. Ugh. Whatever, he doesn’t really have energy to waste on caring or being bothered. Screw them too. He’ll be late purely to repay the audacity. That way he’ll also have to deal with everyone less, all the ‘normal’ people. Which if Tucker or Sam showed would probably be for the best, he doubts they’d approach him but it’d be painful to see them regardless. Not being in school anymore made it easy to fall out of being used to ignoring and avoiding them.

Though to be fair, he’d been out of school longer than everyone else, since he dropped out as soon as he legally could. Turning seventeen had be such a massive turning point for him, he’d been building up to dropping out and the teachers all knew it. None of them expected anything from him, Lancer held out hope longer than most but not even that man could hold out hope for a lost cause for long. Jack and Maddie thought he was joking till the day he actually dropped out though, they kicked him out of course which he expected; he didn’t even bother taking anything since nothing that was still there held any value to him.

Over time they had destroyed, one way or another, every physical thing he did care about. So he stopped bringing new things he would care about, it was a waste and only stood to hurt him in the long run. Them taking apart his telescope he spent years saving for just to make some stupid new invention was the nail in that particular coffin. So he left them everything he’d ever had but some clothes, that were barely wearable but he couldn’t exactly walk around naked. He’d been tempted to purely to make a point that everything in that house was worthless to him, them included, even if that used to be a lie.

Now he had some decent stuff, his mattress had a bed frame with stars scratched into the wood. That was something. Yeah…

…Yeah

He does have some food in the fridge right? Shit he should totally raid the free food at the reunion thing, the local town hero needed it more than they all did really. He’s seriously hoping that they have those yummy cheese tart things, those were delicious.

Fenton stretches out, eyeing his Phantom duplicate, it was so much harder to make a human duplicate than a ghost one so the choice of which one to make ‘real’ was fairly obvious. Snickering as Phantom chucks some clothes right at Fenton’s face, this kind of crap always amused him, being a goofy jerk to himself by himself. Fenton shaking his head, “dumbass”.

“You know talking to yourself isn’t supposed to be healthy”.

“As if we’re remotely close to healthy anything”.

Either way Fenton pulls the dark green knit tank top on, it looked acceptable over the black poets blouse, and the puffy blouse sleeves worked with the baggy harem pants. The shiny dress shoes stuck out bit so he’s swapping that shit out to soft weathered leather boots. Phantom’s already dressed in something more form fitting, like he always wore in that form, straight cut pants he’s sure are from the early nineteen hundreds and a borderline military tight collared and fully buttoned up jacket. Phantom sticking with the white boots and black gloves, there really wasn’t a reason to change that and he wasn’t a fan of people seeing the scarring on his left hand/arm.

Both of the hims absolutely rock the evil eyeliner though, because of course.

Fenton straightening the random bullet necklace he threw on, “so, ready to go babe”; fuck this was gonna be hilarious.

Phantom finger gunning right back, “tots babe”.

Oh here’s hoping he can hold his laughter and mocking smirks inside his mind. Everyone even in this spooky town could be so dumb though that they might not even notice even if he didn’t manage to keep himselves together. Plus he was ‘the freak’ and ‘crazy’ so he probably would get written off anyways. Fenton gesturing out the door as he opens it and begins to walk out. Phantom chuckling, “naw, I’ll fly us”; and having Fenton pretend to be startled when he gets picked up by his ‘romantic partner’. Man he’s going to make himself laugh at this point.

It doesn’t take long to get to Elmerton, at least the ‘A-listers’ had the sense to not try and hold a reunion inside Amity Park, especially when a lot of the people who were likely invited had made a point to get the hell out of dodge once they could. Amity was kinda a nightmare so Danny couldn’t blame them, even if it felt a little insulting. He thought he was doing a damn good job of keeping everyone safe! Sure there was lots of damages but no one ever got seriously injured. Living in a so called normal town just sounded boring to him these days, what did all those people even do with their time? Sleep? Eat? Did people still go to the movies these days or was that outdated? Whatever. Not his life style not his problem.

Phantom zipping up to open the door, Fenton stuffing his hands in his pockets and following along. Fenton had the loner lazy weirdo image to maintain after all. And there’s Star immediately, honestly he kind of expected either Dash or Paulina or maybe they were just ‘too good’ to greet people at the doors.

Star opens her mouth and nothing comes out, her just staring at the two hims. Yup. She noticed the freakish similarities immediately. She swallows very awkwardly and her smile is pinched, “Phantom! Danny! Glad you could make it!”. That rang about as true as a fucking potato trying to pass as a turtle. What the fuck. Did they just not expect either of hims to show up? Why even invite him then!

Phantom tilting his head, “well I was invited, someone went through a kinda weird amount of effort to do that”. Fenton scoffing, “and I can absolutely just leave if I’m not actually welcome, don’t know why y’all went to the effort to track me down if you didn’t want me here though”.

She waves them both off, “no no no! You’re both fine!”, and fiddled with all the little name plates, “it’s…”, side-eyeing Phantom’s glowing self, “just been a while since I’ve been around a ghost and wearing a bullet to see a bunch of people you haven’t seen in over a decade seems a little concerning”.

Fenton blinks, is she trying to say it came off as a threat? “If I was going to threaten people I’d do it to their face and if I was going to shoot people I’d have walked in with a gun”.

“That’s… not comforting”, she looks Fenton up and down, “you’re not armed right”.

“No!”; oh my zone just how bad was everyone’s opinions of Fenton? Ugh. Phantom gestures at his face, “I’m kinda always armed? I can’t do anything about that”.

She actually chuckles at that, handing them their name plates, “still a joker I see”.

“Death can’t kill these puns”.

Fenton snickering, “hopefully it can still off me though”. Phantom laughing lightly back, “you’re not a walking sentient pun, otherwise I feel very misled”; and makes a point to ruffle Fenton’s hair and have Fenton grin a little fondly at the action.

It was actually kinda nice to feel his hair being ruffled up again though…

Star, finally, gets the vibes he’s putting out. Vibes squared that he’s putting out. Doubly putting out. Her eyes widening, “oh my god are you two dating? Since when and how even!”.

Danny’s a little miffed she didn’t even comment on how similar the two hims look though. Like come on! If this whole thing was pointless he’s going to be annoyed enough to try setting something on fire. Nothing like arson to really scratch that destructive itch.

Fenton quirks an eyebrow, “I mean, yeah?”, sharing a glance with Phantom before looking back to her, “and pretty much ever since I dropped out, folks kicked me to the curb and this idiot showed up”.

“I’m the smart one in this relationship”.

“I don’t know about that, you dipshit”,

“Hey!”.

Oh okay, so that’s why everyone liked calling him insulting names. It was legit hilarious and weirdly satisfying… hopefully he doesn’t come out of tonight with a weird degradation kink, that would be his luck and very concerning. Would confuse a lot of ghosts though.

Star shakes her head with a more genuine grin, “I think I’m glad then, feel free to head on in. There’s food and drinks to the left”. Sweet, free food. “No invisibly stealing most of it, Phantom”. Aw. Damn. He’s still going to just… with more subtlety.

Phantom smirking, “so steal all the food, gotcha”, and winks before they’re fully inside.

It’s loud, not club loud but noisy. A second duplicate absolutely raids the table, just taking only a few things and at random. Not the toasted sandwiches though, ew. Hard pass.

Lily spots them first, nearly running over, he can tell by scent alone that she’s got kids now. Weird. “Holy crap, Danny? Phantom? Did you guys just arrive by chance together or do you- holy what the?”, she stops a bit away from them and tilts her head, “did you two always look this similar?”, and shakes herself off before coming all the way over to the two hims. “So both of you still in Amity I guess? Phantom obviously but you seriously didn’t leave Danny? With how crap your parents were to you?”.

Wow. Way to be gentle about it, damn. Fenton quirks a judgmental eyebrow, “harsh much, but Amity’s big enough that we avoid each other pretty easily. They leave my precious Nasty Burger and coffee shops alone, I stay the hell away from FentonWorks. It works”. Phantom nodding readily, “plus I would be very sad if he went and left”, and makes a point to pout goofily.

Lily hums and nods, “oh yeah I guess since most of us left, you’d miss anymore leaving huh?”.

Dense much. Fucking Zone.

Fenton and Phantom exchanging looks before staring at her. Phantom giving her that smirk that meant he was about to say something stupid, Danny loved making that smirk, “no, I’d miss sucking his face off”.

Lily squawks, scandalised, “you don’t just say stuff like that! And you’re dating!”, tilting her head, “you guys have the same name and could pass as twins, that is so weird”.

“WHAT! Oh mi god!”.

Ah that sounded like Paulina. This ought to be fun.

Paulina almost knocks Lily over and physically flings her arms around Phantom’s neck. Danny can’t resist but have Phantom give Fenton an awkward apologetic look; just to make Lily uncomfortable. That absolutely works and she shuffles on her feet and taps Paulina’s should in an attempt to get her to stop.

“I can’t believe you actually came! Oh this is the best! And you’re still so muscley! And you smell like lime still!”.

He… forgot how creepy she could be, actually. Wow. He’s nipping this in the ass. Fenton putting a hand on his hip, “you done dangling off my ghost, Paulina”; he makes sure that comes off as chastising instead of actually questioning.

Paulina doesn’t get off of Phantom and instead just turns her head to look at Fenton, “and you are? What could you possibly mean by that?”.

Holy shit. By all the Ancients. She doesn’t even recognise Fenton him. What the fuck actually. For someone who was, and clearly still is, so obsessed with a version of him she clearly couldn’t be bothered to remember him. Phantom prying Paulina’s arms off him with an almost baffled raised eyebrow, “Danny Fenton? You know? The kid you guys used to call freaky all the time? My soulmate?”.

“Your what?”. Of course the last bit is the part she really cares about. She stares at Fenton, who glares, her looking back to Phantom, “I refuse to believe that”.

You know what? Fuck it. Time to absolutely horrify everyone and do something arguable really weird. Fenton grabs a fist full of Phantoms hair and kisses him like he fucking means it. Even though all he really means is that he desires to disturb Paulina and see if he can make her throw up on command.

She doesn’t throw up, sadly. She does start waving her hands around and backing away disgustedly though; an almost win. “Oh god ew! I don’t want to see that loser kissing anyone! Especially not Phantom”. Well too bad Paulina, you’re seeing it. Lily is busy clutching her pearls and shuffling away from them like they’re physically toxic to be around; which with him being literally a ghost in one of his forms that was actually an accurate statement.

Fenton does break off the kiss though, “oh so you do remember me?”. She scowls at Fenton him so he has Phantom whole ass bite Fenton’s neck with his fangs like a proper possessive asshole ghost would. Her scowl deepens and he feels very satisfied with himselves.

She backs up a bit, “unfortunately. Now at least. I would have preferred not to have the reminder”, looking to Phantom almost hopefully, “are you sure? Serious?”.

Phantom keeps a hand around Fenton’s waist, “course! It’s pretty obvious he’s supposed to be mine so”. Fenton sticks his tongue out meanly while Phantom shrugs like all of this is a given.

“No it’s really not”.

“Holy shit Phantom!”.

“Wait really!?”.

“Phantom!”.

“Wow you’ve changed! Awesome man!”.

“He came!”.

“I forgot how freaky ghosts looked”.

“HI!”.

Fenton gets pretty much shoved to the side as Phantom gets mobbed. Ahh yeah Danny did not miss all the fangirls and fanboys shit. He really didn’t. That was one thing about being a hero he could seriously do without. It was at the least uncomfortable and at the worst actively dangerous for everyone involved. Fenton huffing and shaking his arms out, going through the motions of running his bite mark and grumbling about people hogging ‘his boyfriend’. Fuck it, Fenton him is hitting up the food table and grabbing both hims a drink. The duplicate can deal with all the damn fans and freak outs.

Phantom chuckles awkwardly when Dash smacks him a few times in the arm, “solid and tough as always I see! Man it still sucks that ghosts couldn’t be on the team!”.

“And I’ll point out that would have still been unfair”; like really, Danny, especially as Phantom, could pick up the entire school building. He could kick a football into the goddamn stratosphere.

Dash smacks him again, “oh who cares”.

“I do? And did?”. Danny liked to pretend he still had good solid morals sometimes.

James starts aggressively shaking Phantom’s hand, “man it’s been too long, wow i thought I’d been misremembering that your skin, or suit I suppose, tingled!”. Phantom only laughing awkwardly in response.

“You still doing the whole super hero thing?”.

“it’s almost weird to see you all grown up?”.

“You know you practically were part of our class!”.

“Could you imagine if he still looked like a kid?”.

“Amity’s ghost issues as bad as ever!”.

“Think I could get a signature for the kids?”.

“The Fenton’s still trying to catch you?”.

Okay this was a bit much, like it always was. Most of Amity didn’t do this crap now, everyone used to him just kinda always being around. Everyone here though? Again most of them left Amity, meaning he was now a novelty to them. Phantom him was at least.

Danny’s putting a stop to this, “Hey spooky butt”, Fenton leans his face and one drink over Phantom’s shoulder in a way that could only be described as shit-eatingly sultry.

“Holy shit Danny!”.

“Looks like someone finally learned how to dress”.

“Why are you getting Phantom a drink?”.

Paulina crosses her arms and huffs, “apparently they’re dating”, waving a hand around dismissively, “soul mates or whatever”.

OoOooIooOoooOoOooh someone’s jealous. Ha! He loves to see it. Suck on that, little miss stalker.

Everyone just kind of goes silent, zone someone actually goes and shuts off the music even. Wow. His both touched and slightly horrified. Phantom takes the drink from Fenton and sips noisily at it while everyone stares; Fenton just smirking his ass off and Danny trying not to have either hims collapse to the floor in laughing fits.

Todd snapping, “what the hell does that mean”, then scowling, “wait, why do I even care?”, and stalks off to aggressively grab a rice crispy square. That starts the shouting though.

“What?!”.

“What does she mean dating!?!”.

“There’s NO WAY THAT’S SERIOUS!”.

“How!”.

“Woah woah woah huh?!?”.

“WHAT!”.

“The hell happened!”.

“How does this even make sense!”.

Paulina looks pleased with herself actually, smirking at Fenton like this somehow proved something? Danny’s completely lost on what she thinks she’s won. Like, Danny’s winning here, mass confusion was practically ninety percent of the goal. He wanted to piss off, freak out, and annoy these people. Most of them had treated him like shit, the others didn’t care, and well, two were… okay but he was best leaving them confused too. At least he doesn’t see either of them yet.

Dash near shrieking, “Fenton!”. Danny’s suddenly distinctly remembering that this guy used to slam him into walls and try to drown him. Fenton ducking down under Phantom's arm to be able to slip under it to move in front of his ghost self, “what do you want, Dash? Feel like revisiting shoving my head in toilets?”. He makes a point to have Phantom watch the interaction like a very obviously protective hawk; protective eyes for Fenton only. He is legit enjoying seeing Fenton him standing up against Dash though, especially since Fenton was taller than Dash now and more bulked up.

Someone fell off with all their working out. Ha! As if that would ever happen with Danny, he’s mere existence was a work out.

Dash glaring up at Fenton, sneering, “Fenton, still being weird I see”.

“Let me guess, I was invited to be the freak show you lot would point at and use as a way to make yourselves feel better about how your own lives turned out? What? Upset that you were right about peeking in Highschool?”.

Dash actually clenches a fist, Danny keeps Fenton glaring straight at his face, and makes Phantom’s eyes glow dangerously in warning. Dash wilts immediately, scoffing, “gotta have a ghost fight your battles for you, Fenton. Whatever”.

Fenton cackles meanly, wandering off to pick up one of the full coolers up over his head with ease and shout, “you wanna go bitch?!? You think I’m hooked up with a combative mother fucker without getting a few hits in myself!”. Yes, fear human him even slightly, please him.

Then Star stomps over, “Danny put that down”, pointing at Dash, “Dash, this isn’t Highschool anymore, grow up”, then looking at Phantom, “please discourage this?”.

Phantom blinks innocently, “why would I? It’s hot when throws shit at people, he threw Johnny’s bike two days ago, ten outta ten”.

That gets him a lot of ‘what’s’ and Paulina recoils, “you, called Fenton hot”.

Phantom shrugging like this is obvious, “well he is”. Note, Danny is fully aware that he is absolutely not hot or conventionally attractive in anyway. He just wants to see her grossed out. The disgusted look is so worth it, worth all this crap.

Kwan shakes his head, but when he smiles at both Danny’s his smile is genuine, “well good for you two then!”. Dash glances away awkwardly, Danny’s guessing those two had a falling out. Figures, Kwan was always a kinda decent dude that was just surrounded by assholes. Kwan coming over and smacking both of the Danny’s shoulders, “how’d this happen though?”.

Multiple people raise their hands, clearly wanting an expilnation for this shit too; zone the music is still off. Danny knows he’s a hot topic, as Phantom at least, but for fucks sake! Phantom and Fenton exchanging glances before Fenton crosses his arms at the group, “after I got the familial boot, this shit ass”, jabbing a thumb back at Phantom. Phantom muttering, “yes insult me harder, daddy”, purely because that was absolutely taking this a step too far. Making Fenton pause and look back at ghost him, “I can’t believe you actually said that”, then turning back to everyone, most of whom look varying degrees of freaked out, “so this shit ass, helped me get back on my feet and not be contentedly homeless and you know, when a hero type starts stealing things for you you start to question that shit. And well, romance bloomed”. There are some ‘aw’s’ and some gags and some eye rolls. Expected, many here had once had crushes on Phantom him and also viewed Fenton him as a loser; most wouldn’t be happy about this pairing not that he cares.

Phantom waving at everyone with a big smile specifically to get their attention, “we’re soul mates!”, humming, “which is a ghost thing so it’s probably really weird to the living”.

Fenton nodding, okay self… selves, time to sell this shit. Fenton pointing at his face then Phantom’s face, “it’s why we look alike”. Phantom nodding immediately, “looking like our loves makes them easier to find”.

Jesse blinks, he was dressed in an actually starched suit, “so ghosts just copy their partners appearance until they find them as ghosts? Until they die? That seems a bit insane and like it would mess with your sense of self”.

Paulina stares at the ground, “so I’ve been crushing on a Fenton look-alike, ew”. Oh Danny hadn’t even thought of that reaction! Ha! Suffer for his amusement. This was a great plan.

Fenton smirks to himself, “yup. Too bad you missed out on the real thing huh?”. She scowls deeply at him and stalks off, apparently done with his bullshit; the quick glance she gives Phantom is a little odd but maybe this will finally kill her odd obsession with half of him.

Phantom hums, shaking his head in that way that makes his hair flop around detached from gravity, “oh I can look how I’m supposed to look fully if I want to”, leaning over and pinching Fenton’s cheek, “looking like this silly little human, in general body shape, is just more tolerable around all you humans”; then running the same hand through his hair, changing it to white flames as he does so. Danny lets the fire hair ‘hang out’ on and around Phantom’s head for a bit before settling back to his standard hair.

Dash grumbling, “I’d rather look like some beast than a loser. Fire hair is cool anyways”.

Brittney sticking up a finger, “but with this, then wouldn’t you have known since you first met? When you first showed up in Amity? So why didn’t you date back in Highschool?”.

Phantom quirks an eyebrow at her like the answers obvious, because frankly it is, “He’s alive? I wasn’t about to mess his life up, then suddenly he wasn’t in school or at his home. He was alone with no real human responsibilities so I decided why not? And I could hardly do nothing when my mate could use some help”. Dating any ghost, especially himself, would have gone horrifically bad while he was still living with Maddie and Jack. The amount those two would have tried to use him and this fabricated soul mate bond thing would have been absolutely insane and very very painful eventually. Even if he had dated a blob ghost that would have ended in the ghostly ultimate destruction. Even now dating a ghost came with far too much risk to them, dating himself he could get away with since he was a very powerful ghost and also knew exactly what he was getting himself into more or less. Besides, if dating himself is what gets his ass finally truly hurt by those two he will laugh.

Star grins at the ghost, “that is very adorable”, then looking at the mass of people, “okay that’s enough mobbing them, this is to mingle with everyone not just ogle Phantom”. Oh hey, look at the old queen bee lackey being the voice of reason now, talk about moving up in the world.

A couple people grumble but things do go back to somewhat normal, the music comes back on too. Nice. Star nodding curtly to herself, then to Fenton, “now I didn’t ask this earlier but are the Fenton’s going to show up? They weren’t invited but they were never big on following rules”.

Both Danny’s chuckle at that, Fenton shaking his head, “so long as no one tells them a ghost’s here, then no”.

“Glad to hear it, now I’m going back to greet people, I imagine there will be a couple more late arrivals”. Fenton smirks meanly at that while Phantom tries to look slightly apologetic, ultimately Danny didn’t really care and they should be glad he bothered showing up to an event full of people that either ignored his existence or treated him like shit except when he was saving their hides or floating around as Phantom.

Phantom finally gets to sip his, unfortunately ectoplasm free, drink and take some food from Fenton. Danny’s tempted to have Fenton fucking hand feed Phantom just to mess with people. The tarts are sadly really bland, is this what ‘normal’ grown ups liked to eat? Hard pass. But people’s tastes seriously get this boring? How sad and a bit pathetic. Live a little! Enjoy some flavour!

Kwan elbowing Phantom, “so the ghost problem still going strong”, laughing almost awkwardly, “I haven’t exactly been keeping up, the tech industry is a hard core one!”.

Ah so he worked in tech now? He’d expected English, a teacher maybe, he seemed to like poetry if Danny’s remembering right? Phantom chuckles, “of course! I doubt that’ll ever change. Serious damage doesn’t happen too much now though, since I’m pretty solid on what kind of damage is serious damage in the living world now”. Fenton nodding, “and I get the fun of patching his dumbass up when he lets himself get hit for a pun”.

“As if you don’t do the same”.

Fenton snorts, making a point to seem amused by Phantom’s antics. Phantom smirking playfully before looking back to Kwan, “besides, no ghost these days would want to actually get on my bad side with my position, you know?”. Jack and Maddie might very loudly and very aggressively deny that ghosts could possibly have a political system but everyone else seemed to accept it at least. Besides, those two hunters being loud about anything didn’t somehow make it true, even if the town believing the whole ‘ghost king’ thing made some of them a lot more leery of Phantom. Like he’d execute them or try them for dissent or something if ‘his human people’ went against him. Some folks moved out purely because they didn’t want to be in a town under ‘some ghost royals rule’, even though Danny had firmly established his Phantom self as the good guy by now. Humans could be so annoying. None of the ghosts got pissy about being under his domain and they were more under it than any human in Amity.

Kwan looks… confused? “No I don’t think I know? Are you, like, an actual ghost cop now? Man that would be so cool”.

What. Hmm. Well. Maybe most of these people don’t know? Most of his old ‘citizens’ hadn’t been citizens for a while before Danny took the throne proper and him doing so got leaked, thank you very much Vlad. Asshole. Though having very public arguments with the Observants in the mild of the fucking sky probably didn’t help, or him actually having to go scary ghost king on that one Ancient that tried poisoning the water supply with corpses. If you’re gonna mass kill people be a proper ghost and do it with your own bare hands. Danny makes a point to have Phantom look to Fenton in confusion, Fenton facepalming, “right. Most of y’all have been gone a while”, moving his hand off his face and giving Kwan a mean smirk, “Phantom’s been the current ghost king ever since he became an adult ghost”, waving a hand around dismissively, “its been, what? eight years?”.

Phantom nodding, “and my town’s, Amity’s, known for five because Plasmius is a jerk and the Observants won’t stop hassling me”, grumbling, “one of these days I swear I’m gonna start shooting them with suction darts”.

Fenton barking a laugh as if he wasn’t fully aware of what his other self was going to say, “if that works I will mock them relentlessly”.

“Please do, anyone who doesn’t give up on political assassination attempts after the third failure deserves to be mocked”.

At this point it was like they felt obligated to try at least once per year, it was very annoying and a waste of his time. At least all the other ghosts who started beef with him provided some entertainment and stretched his muscles out, let him satisfy that pesky little protective obsession of his. The eyeballs were just jerks. At least he had fun setting the last wannabe assassin on fire. Ha.

Kwan blinks before smacking Phantom’s arm hard, “wow! Congrats then! I’m busy enough just being a desk boy usually! Being a king would be awful, no offence”, then smacking Fenton’s arm one, “and congrats on bagging royalty!”.

Todd scowling from a little bit away, “fuck, right, I forgot that asshole got that throne thing, ugh I hate this town”, and wanders off further away from Danny’s hims and their everything.

But someone’s turned off the music, again ugh, it’s Lindsey by the controls and she’s gapping at the hims, “what do you mean Phantom’s royalty!”.

Oh. This shit again.

Everyone starts yelling at the hims again.

“What!?”.

“Oh that’s awesome!”.

“For defeating that dude that abducted the town right?!?”.

“For how long!”.

“That’s absurd!”.

“I could have dated a king!”.

“We sorta went to school with royalty!”.

“Oh my god!”.

“WHAT!”.

“Why are there still ghosts then!”.

“Does that make Amity, like, a royal capital!”.

Phantom buries his face in his palms, groaning loudly. Man Danny remembers going through this back when Vlad leaked everything and the towns folk realised he wasn’t joking. So many questions, an entire press conference even. Fenton crossing his arms and scowling, “there’s an entire press release on it, google it your self, hell go track it down on TikTok I don’t care”.

Phantom sighing again and removing his hand from his face, looking at the people in his line of sight, “yes it’s the throne the guy who abducted the town had. It’s only been eight years and the towns know for five. No I’m not going to mass control the ghosts to stay out of Amity, freedom is a big deal to ghosts. Amity is technically a royal capital but it’s not in the Infinite Realm so that doesn’t actually mean much. And yes it is absurd”, gesturing a hand at his head and making the green flaming crown appear for a few seconds before sending it away again.

Fenton pretty much gets shoved away from Phantom again as everyone pretty much mobs the ghost, Kwan patting an annoyed Fenton’s shoulder, “so what have you been doing? Outside of apparently dealing with Phantom’s craziness all the time”.

(Phantom holds up his hands, “alright alright, just stop shoving my mate around. Geez”. Only a couple of people apologise)

Fenton huffs, at least the man sounded genuine, after all most people didn’t expect Danny Fenton to amount to much of anything. Homeless and jobless was the expectation. It was also almost accurate, if he wasn’t Phantom at least. The only reason he had an apartment at all was because he was better at making weapons than his parents were, even if he sold his more or less illegally. The G.I.W. would never approve someone who was ‘in league with the dead’ to deal ghost tech in any form, even if they did, Jack and Maddie would try to keep him out. At least Vlad pulled his weight by letting Danny sell the more important stuff under the Dalvco brand, like shields and ghost-plant killer that secretly doubled as a Blood Blossom spray. His general weapons were blackmarket only though, fuck the government. “If I told you I’d have to kill you”. Kwan rolls his eyes and Fenton snorts after a beat, “I sell weapons on the blackmarket”.

… It takes a bit but, Kwan blinks, “oh you’re serious”.

(Phantom chuckles awkwardly, “yes I’m a lot stronger now than I was back then, I don’t flaunt that though”.)

Fenton shrugging, “it’s ghost weapons, dude. More ghost friendly, Phantom friendly, and more effective than what FentonWorks or Dalvco produce. And not legislated to the zone and back like G.I.W. tech, plus fuck those guys, no Amity Parker current or past would buy shit from those assholes”.

“Yeah I absolutely remember them shooting live rockets at little kids that one time”, Kwan shakes his head, “I guess that makes sense, can’t do it legally because of being publicly pro-ghost?”.

(Danny internally sighs as most of the group shove pens and paper and whatnot at Phantom, ugh).

“Got it in one, got it in one. It doesn’t make good money but it does make some. Enough for a place to live and cheap food, I’m not moving into the gz regardless of someone’s insistence on how cozy it is”.

Kwan actually takes that comment in stride, good for him, “I mean, you’re gonna be there one day anyways? So why rush it? Even if Phantom would probably prefer you there sooner than later”, the guy scratches his head, “man that must be weird. Being a ghosts soul mate or whatever. Chelsea marrying that old guy was weird enough, a dead guy is on another level”.

Chelsea married a sugar daddy? Really? Okay… Get that bread he guesses. Fenton snorting, “if she’s making bank and living the rich life because of that then good for her”, shrugging, “and outside of him running of to throw fists and laying on the ceiling, it’s not much different from dating a human. Getting bitched at about royal shit is way more weird”, looking down at himself and sticking his arms away from his torso some, “the clothing’s nice though”.

“That’s ghost clothing?”.

Fenton smirks, “yup. This shirt is probably older than our parents. And I think the boots are made from Minotaur hide”. He doesn’t think, he knows they are. Ghost clothing was badass like that.

(Phantom rolls his eyes at Jasper, “no I’m not going to just make people my knights when they die”.)

James pops his head over, “that would freak me out to wear, damn aren’t you worried about ecto-contamination and shit? I’d prefer to stick to stuff made by human hands, cool though”.

Was it weird? He didn’t think so. “There’s so little ecto on it that it really doesn’t matter, besides if clothing was bad for my health Phantom would kill me via cuddles”. Kwan bursts out laughing, and nods repeatedly.

James nods a little, “oh yeah! I guess that would be right huh?”.

The Danny makes a point to have Fenton jerk a little from Phantom just kinda appearing right next to Fenton. Kwan putting a hand to his chest and James yelping a little. Fenton glancing at Phantom, “got bored of being mobbed or doing signatures?”. Ancients everyone wanted signatures and if Phantom wasn’t the duplicate Danny’s sure his hand would be sore for at least ten minutes. Ugh. signing shit for Craig’s goddamn six children was wild though, his poor wife. Phantom pouting, “yes”.

“I did warn you that would happen”.

“I wasn’t going to not show up, that would be rude!”.

At least the music turns back on, thank everything. Dale spotting and hearing where Phantom disappeared to and popping over, “everyone’s glad you came, even if being around a ghost again is a little off putting and weird”.

Phantom rubs his neck, “me being more powerful probably doesn’t help”. Fenton shoving him a little good naturedly.

Dale acts like Phantom didn’t even say anything, “and yeah Fenton was kinda invited in hopes you’d be more likely to show, since both of you were seen near each other a lot”.

Kwan gives the other man a disappointed look, “dude”. Making Dale blink, “oh right yeah that was mean”, and just stares off blankly a little.

Wow. Fucking figured but damn. Jerks. Though right, wasn’t Dale the guy that had some brain damage? Eh, Danny shouldn’t be too mean to the guy. Still making Fenton scowl though, “why am I not surprised, it’s not like I was ever close with any of you shitheads”. James wanders away very quickly at that, and at Phantom growling a little. Kwan scratching his head, “sorry about that, Dale’s not the best at brain to mouth censoring”. Dale blinking and still looking a little far off but nodding, “ah, yeah no I’m not. Eh? At least dogs don’t care about that”.

Phantom brightening up immediately, “oh yeah! Cujo can be a handful but he’s a good boy”.

Dale blinks again, “I don’t think I could handle a ghost dog, all dogs are great dogs though”.

See that? Danny could agree with. Cujo might cause a lot of damage and might drag him around by his ankles but he was still just the best. And getting to have interactions with someone or something that had no expectations of him and couldn’t be disappointed by him was nice. All the pup wanted was a playmate, belly rubs, and to guard his master; nothing more nothing less. Cujo didn’t care if Danny was a king or if he was on bad terms with his biological makers or if he was a little out of touch with other beings or if he technically was an entity that should be impossible to exist in the first place. Dogs were nice like that, unlike people. So both Danny’s nod.

Then, as if summoned by the dog that ‘ruined’ her life, Val shows up. The good ol’ Red Huntress. At least they got along somewhat these days, her and Phantom at least.

Her voice is harsh, “what the fuck”. Ah so she spotted Phantom. This was gonna be fun and possibly annoying or stupid or a lot of things. She stomps over, glaring bloody murder at Phantom who whistles and glances around like an innocent little angel. Man Danny loved to rile her up sometimes, and she couldn’t even shoot him this time! She grabs Fenton’s baggy sleeve roughly and physically drags him off. Leaving a blinking Phantom, “well at least this time it’s him being pestered and not the ghost with the most”. Kwan laughs.

Fenton blinks at Val, “sup, Val. Why are you dragging me around?”. As if he doesn’t know exactly why. Phantom was here and she wanted to know why, the Red Huntress did talk to Fenton him sometimes, since he made ghost shit and everything. Plus the ‘Fenton’ knowledge he had from Jack and Maddie. Danny’s ninety percent sure she suspects him of knowing exactly who was under the helmet, She drags him all the way over to the food tables before responding to him, “I’ve been here all of ten minutes and all I am hearing about, besides people telling me what their jobs are now and Ali trying to get me to join her pyramid scheme, is that you are apparently dating Phantom. What the actual fresh fuck, Danny”.

Fenton huffs, “let me have my love life, gosh”, smirking, “what? Do you have a problem with gay couples?”; that’s not the issue and he knows it and she knows that he knows it.

She swats him over the head immediately, “he’s a ghost you dumbass”, huffing, “I know you tend to side with ghosts but dating Phantom? Really?”, rubbing her temples, “like yes, if you’re going to have a thing for the dead then Phantom’s acceptable but what are you two doing?”.

Fenton smirks, “what we’re doing is being little shits and cuddle buddies”.

“You know what I mean, you shit”.

Fenton chuckles, “and I couldn’t make this anymore clear, I could described what Phantom’s mouth tastes like if you’d like?”; of course Danny could actually have Fenton do that since Danny knew what his own mouth tasted like.

Val glares, crosses her arms, and looks from Fenton to Phantom, from one Danny to the other… then she does it again. There it was, the recognition. “What the?”.

Lily walks over to grab some food, “oh yeah let me guess, noticed the similarities? Apparently they’re soul mates”, eyeing Fenton, “ghosts am I right?”. Danny can tell instantly that Val doesn’t buy that shit, like at all. Figures, she was a ghost hunter after all… and she knew about Vlad’s sorry half-dead ass. AND she’s seen Elle’s human half which was basically just a female version of Fenton him.

Fenton smirks at Lily, “they’re weird, but exactly my kind of weird”, and fucking winks at her. Lily shaking her head and heading back over to a bunch of the other ex-cheerleader girls.

Val looks to Fenton slowly, “Danny? Are you? Are you him?”.

Fenton finger guns, “with him you mean, ha!”, then dropping his hands and shrugging, “it shouldn’t have taken you this long, Red. Like my excuse? All the reactions have been to die for”. She smacks him over the head again, expected, she always did love to rough up his sorry ass. “You know Phantom’s not gonna like if you bruise me up too much”.

“I hate you”.

“No you don’t”.

“Fuck you”.

“You wish you could”.

She throws her hands up dramatically, “I can’t with you! Oh my Zone!”, dropping her hands and glaring at Fenton, “you could have just fucking told me, you know”.

Fenton shrugging, stealing up a little rainbow rice crispy square, “eh, it was better off I didn’t. I’m a lot to get involved in and it’s better that people just don’t”, pointing the square at her before taking a bite, “tough shit or not you still die if someone lops your head off”. Sometimes he did want to try and stop her from the whole huntress thing but who was he to tell someone to not do stupid dumb reckless shit? Plus all the ghosts actually liked her, and that shit counted for a lot.

She frowns at him, “that’s a bit depressing you know? Is that why you’re such a loner?”, shaking her head and glancing at a wall, “I guess I’m not really one to talk though, huh?”.

“No shit, Sherlock. We’re both pretty irredeemably fucked, I just have less of a choice about it”.

“You have a choice“.

“Look me in my half dead god king face and say that again”.

She flinches at that, fucking good, he didn’t have a whole lot of tolerance for people telling him he could just walk away. As if everything wouldn’t go to utter shit without his asses involvement. As if people wouldn’t die or wind up experimented on. As if his realm could function and maintain itself without its king. As if there was anything better for him to do other than rot in bed. As if this wasn’t all he was goddamn good for and all he knew how to do anymore. Everything else is gone and there ain’t no getting it back. He’s fucked. Absolutely, completely, and utterly, fucked. And saying otherwise was like pissing on all his fucking suffering and sacrifices. He was needed as Phantom, as a sovereign and protector. He was needed as Fenton, as the interspecies liaison and defender. And that was all he was needed as. Never anything more and never anything less. It wasn’t his choice to make anymore, even if it’s a choice he would make over and over again if it was up to him. Nothing was changing that till either every part of him collapsed or the universe did.

Fenton huffs, “come on, let’s mingle instead of wallowing in our mildly crappy existences”.

She stands firm, making him eye her, “you do like it though, right? I do”.

Even if he didn’t, even if he hated every second of it, he’d still say yes just so she wouldn’t pity him or try to carry more of the load on her very mortal shoulders. He did enjoy it though, so there’s that, meaning it’s not a lie when Fenton says, “duh. I’m a combative mother fucker, even if somehow no one noticed that trait in Fenton”. This time she lets him drag her off with him.

Phantom giving both of them smiles, “have fun catching up, babe?”. Fenton snickering, “of course babe”. Val glares murderously at both hims but doesn’t call him out on his bullshit.

Silver waving at Val, basically killing the conversation Silver’d been having with his duplicate about their greenhouses poppy flowers. It’s was weird someone being so interested in just… growing a bunch of poppy’s. Like fuck, way to show you have a real hunky-dory life. They actually teared up a little at successfully growing an orange one… Sliver speaking up, “you still stuck in Amity?”.

Val nodding easily, “yeah, what can I say, I like the stupid town. I doubt I’ll ever leave, it’s got me for life”.

Yeah… she was probably right about that. She was married to the game less than him but still was all the same. Her it was more that she didn’t want to stop and felt responsible, rather than genuinely not being able to stop.

Phantom putting his hands behind his head, “yeah, her and her dad run a pretty solid tech shop these days, I get my thermoses fixed there since the Fenton’s are still crazy”. Fenton snorting, “tell me about it”. Did Danny actually need to be doing that? Obviously not. But it was a chance to have Phantom talk with Red outside of combat, and to familiarise her with thermoses in case the worst happened.

After all, losing all his human connections is what made Dan and that’s exactly the way things were now. It was bound to happen if he ever lost his protective drive. Protection and combat are his only drives, one without the other is a problem for his mind. So he’d keep his one connection with Val, for as little as that might be worth in the end, and he’ll keep his protective streak going till it burns him to ash.

Val rolls her eyes at the two hims, “helping the town, even that little bit, is worth it”.

“I hear ya, I hear ya”.

“Hey Fenton! Does Jazz still live in Amity?!”.

Fenton blinks, leaning away from his little group going on and stares at Dash, “fucking no?! Why would she?! She literally left the day she turned eighteen how did you not notice that?!?”, scowling, “and no! I’m not calling her for you! We barely talk anymore anyways!”. Which kinda sucked but she got to live her normal human life that she very much enjoyed.

Dash blinks, “damn!”. Ugh.

Silver blinking at Fenton, “oh? It’s ’cause of the Fenton’s isn’t it?”.

Phantom sighs, rubbing his temples, “I took her away personally. The Fenton’s, aware that Danny wasn’t going to, and in their eyes shouldn’t, take over FentonWorks, burned her scholarships and tried to stop her from leaving. I got her out and a few towns over, saw her off and all that”.

Fenton nodding, “which I was very relieved over, that had been Hell a little bit-”. Silver cringes. “-she’s doing well for herself though, has her own therapist practice and all that. Doesn’t want anything to do with Maddie or Jack, same as me”, shrugging, “she also wants nothing to do with ghosts, so I’m kinda an at arms length sibling if you will”.

“Since you’re dating a ghosts and illegally selling ghost tech? Yeah I can get that”.

Fenton nodding, “ditto. And if she did show up back here I’d slap some sense into her and tell her to get lost before she regrets it”; ahh getting maybe a little bit too real there but oh well. Jazz was a Fenton, which meant that Amity was a place she had to stay the hell away from; Jack and Maddie she had to stay the hell away from. Hopefully she never forgets that.

Then Star pops back in, “alright that’s everyone who’s coming!”. Getting a bunch of raised glasses and food stuff in return. A dark-skinned man with dreads coming in behind her, or… rolling in behind her.

That was…

Tucker was in a wheelchair?!?! What happened! Half the damn point was those two not getting fucking hurt! Was there no point? Had it been a hopeless endeavour?

It takes a bit to avoid dissolving Phantom. As it is his ghost selves eyes flare up a little and his ecto-field wiggles concerningly. Val kicks Phantom in the boot, to stabilise him maybe? He doesn’t know and he doesn’t care. He needs to know what happened, how it happened, could he have done something different? Fenton absently muttering, “I’m going to go say hi”. Val giving him a bit of a supportive back pat that he barely notices, she physically blocks Phantom him from following with a whispered, “Tucker’s Danny Fenton’s old friend, not Phantom’s stay put you”.

Sliver nodding, “I guess it’s no surprise you’re an over protective boyfriend”.

Fenton blinking down at Tucker, “Tuck”. And the guy raises an eyebrow, “been a while since I’ve been called that”; making Fenton, and Phantom, wince. Star walks away quickly, easily picking up on the awkward and probably way to private atmosphere.

Fenton blinks again, “you’re in a wheelchair”.

“Yeah I noticed”, Tucker sighing when Danny doesn’t really have a response to that that wasn’t horrifically insensitive. Tucker putting his hands on his lap, “Danny, you kinda lost the right to ask a while ago, but since you’re concerned enough to talk to me properly for the first time in nearly fourteen years, it’s genetic. I have a type of muscular dystrophy. Now can I get past and grab some food or?”.

Again, both Danny’s wince, him realising that the Fenton one was practically blocking Tucker from getting his… wheelchair past. Fenton stepping to the side with a neck rub, “sorry about that”.

“Whatever, man”.

Danny just kind of stares as the man goes, it hurt a little. The dismissal. But he expected it and it was okay. At least… at least it was nothing he could have done anything about. If anything this means that Danny was right to push him away. Being involved with ghosts would have gotten him killed probably. But… getting diagnosed and eventually having to use mobility aids had probably been crushing to him… and Danny hadn’t been there to support him. Any ounce of support he tried to give now would just seem hollow and like pity. Former friend was the right label for them and he should just let the man go, shouldn’t follow after.

He does of course. Fenton him does. Because the wheelchair and subsequent mild protective freakout has thrown him off kilter. He can tell the man’s glaring at the food table, Fenton him can see it in the reflection of some of the glasses. “Danny I’m really not interested in ‘catching up’ with you”.

Fenton stares a little before Danny can remember himself and that humans find staring creepy. Shaking his head, “right yeah, that makes sense”. Maybe he’d have better luck and less hostility with Phantom him? “Can I ask what you do at least? Then I’ll get out of your hair. You don’t have to ask me shit, or you can, it’s whatever”.

Tucker actually smacks a fist on the table, “I know the only damn reason you’re even trying is because I’m disabled now, so fuck off”.

Shit. Okay. That wasn’t how he was trying to be interpreted. “Tuck-”.

“Don’t”.

Fenton snarls, properly snarling, startling his former friend, “just because we stopped being friends doesn’t mean I stopped giving a damn. But fine, fuck it, whatever”, and basically stomps off. He doesn’t turn around when Tucker mutters a possibly regretful, “shit”. If the man wants to be an ass then fine, let him be an ass by himself. It’s better Danny doesn’t care anyways, it’s better they end on bad terms. Fuck it and fuck him.

Val’s kicking Phantom him again, since Phantom had snarled too. Shit whatever. Fuck it if he’s freaking anyone out, they’re all assholes anyways. Val eyeing the ticked of Fenton, “your mood is rubbing off on someone”.

“I’m fully fucking aware, Val”.

She smacks him over the head, “well pull your shit together, you can’t expect him to want to be friendly with you after all this time”.

“Yeah well I didn’t expect to basically get told to go fuck myself either, jackass”.

Both Val and Silver frowning, Silver shaking their head, “okay yeah that’s a little rude, but he might be going through some stuff, you don’t know. You staring at the chair probably didn’t help”.

“My mind goes to worst case scenarios so excuse me if the thought of someone I used to be extremely close with getting into some kind of horrible accident was upsetting”.

Phantom huffing and crossing his arms, “being dead or surrounded by the dead tends to do that”. Now he wishes Tucker hadn’t shown up at all. He’s going to be pissed off about this for days, fucking asshole.

Val sighs, “okay you’re not wrong on that, I thought the same. At least I didn’t freaking ask though, Danny. I thought you were just going to say hi, not be an insensitive jerk”.

Fenton scowls at her, sticking his arms out, “I didn’t fucking ask, he just assumed I wanted to, which yeah was right”, and grumbles a little incoherently before taking some breaths to avoid snarling at anyone else especially not the only human connection he still had. Ugh.

Val shakes her head at him, “okay I guess you can get to be annoyed, not mad, annoyed. Star’s civil with me even though we had our falling out”, crossing her arms, “Paulina not so much”.

Fenton grumbling, “if Sam had shown up I’d expect her to slap me at this point. Fucking zone”.

Star hums, having apparently made her way over after overhearing her name, “yeah she replied in the discord chat that she wouldn’t deign to show up to rejoin a shitty town full of people that were morally horrific”.

“Ancients that’s messed up, what the Zone Sam”. Fenton blinks and shakes his head, what the hell happened with her? He doesn’t want to know. Was she always that egocentric and holier than thou? If so it was probably better for everyone she had no say in him and what he does. Did childhood him just suck at picking friends? “Wait. There’s a discord?”.

Star puts a hand on her hip and cocks an eyebrow, “yup. All anyone could find on you was an address so we couldn’t exactly give you a code in”.

Val shaking her head and forcing a little laugh, eyeing Fenton, “if I had known no one had your number I would have sent it. I figured you just had no interest in messaging anyone, like me”, she waves a hand dismissively, “I confirmed I was showing up and dipped”.

Fucking great. Love it.

Danny notices Tucker pushing himself over to talk to Jesse. Danny chooses to ignore that. If he sends Phantom over he might just accidentally start a brawl and that was a very bad idea.

Star shakes her head, “would it kill either of you to be a bit more sociable?”.

Fenton immediately responding with, “yes”. Phantom with, “already did”. And Val with, “probably”. Making Star sigh and Silver laugh; Silver walking off right after, Danny pretending not to notice them point aggressively at Tucker. Ugh.

“Phantom! Come meet my husband! He’s heard stories about you and got curious!”. Phantom glancing to the side at Ashely then to Fenton with a quirked eyebrow.

Fenton waving him off, “go, I’ll be fine, you stupid celebrity”. Danny makes a point to have Phantom give Fenton a quick peck on the cheek, making Fenton blush a little, before running off. Val’s barely restrained look of horror is so worth it and definitely improves his mood.

Star shakes her head, “well at least it looks like you’re in a better mood now, this is supposed to be fun”.

“Then why are all the drinks liquor free?”.

“Because Todd has a liquor problem and I know you know it”.

Okay yeah that wasn’t wrong. All the local bartenders knew him by first and last name, zone some knew the middle one too. Sure they also knew Danny by first and both lasts but that was for an entirely different reason… he did also drink though so like it was a toss up. Then she glances to the side, winces slightly, and jambs a thumb over her shoulder, “anyway’s I’m going to check on everyone else. See if more people are better off not being in the same room”. Ouch. True but she didn’t need to say it. Star pointing at Val, “you’re coming whether you like it or not, you can talk to Danny whenever you want”. Val grumbles but doesn’t put up a fight.

Fenton shaking his head and laughing a little to himself, now what should he do? He frankly didn’t feel like dealing with anyone now, especially not all these chuckle fucks. He’s half tempted to just wander into the bathroom and stare at the mirror for twenty minutes self actualising or whatever. Grimacing, yeah he’s gonna do that, plus all this ecto free food was grating on his stomachs nerves.

He could eat normal foods, it’s just the ecto made it taste better and easier on his system to digest. Didn’t help that he grew up eating contaminated shit, thanks Maddie and Jack, and basically only ate contaminated shit after the whole half dying thing; it was an easy thing to do in Amity after all since everything was contaminated. But this was Elmerton and the food was definitely from outside the city, probably to specifically ensure it was ecto free. Yuck.

So Fenton meanders his way over to the gym bathroom/locker room, stuffing a hand in his pocket as he goes. Him popping into the sink and mirror area, kicking the door closed-ish and pulling out an ectoplasm vial at the same time, tossing it back without much hesitation. He didn’t hear anyone else in here and plus he also didn’t super care, which fine was partly because his attention was split into two different places and almost no one would really genuinely question him outside of Val obviously.

Granted Val would know exactly what he was doing and why.

“Did you seriously think I’d been hurt bad?”.

“Fuck!”, Fenton jumps, tossing the vial in the air, (Phantom jerking in his conversation about welding of all things) at the frankly very unexpected sound of Tucker’s voice. It took some doing to actually startle him, but guesses he was in his own head enough that someone was able to pull it off. Didn’t help that he just came from a room full of people whose scents he doesn’t recognise anymore. It bothered him a little. Fenton turning away from the mirror and looking down at Tucker, “uh?”. And then the fucking ecto vial clinks on to the ground and rolls across it in that loud way glass tends to do. Well fuck him, this shit is entirely his fault right oh wow this is instantly awkward.

Tucker stares down at the vial on the ground before looking back up at Fenton, “new question, what was that”.

See that did not sound like a question. Okay, self, shit, what to say? If this was anyone else, other than Val, he’d just say it was a weird Amity energy drink and he was tired and to piss off. Zone he’s tempted to say that crap anyways, but Tucker had sounded… apologetic, even if he’d startled Danny. He can’t not lie though. Well… technically, if he mentally twisted things around enough, calling ecto an addiction for him wasn’t wrong per say. He legit couldn’t exist without ecto, his system was dependent on it, so like, he could go with that? And now Tucker’s glaring at him like he’s thinking about ramming into Danny. Fenton blinking before shrugging awkwardly, “addiction’s compulsory, or whatever. And yes?”. Crap this was a really stupid plan of action. Way more stupid than dating himself, Ancients.

Tucker blinks, “addiction?”, shaking his head, “I don’t even care about the first question now”, frowning, “well I do, you jerk, but less”.

That’s fair, Danny thinks. Fenton shrugs, “that accident fucked me up, okay? Kinda needed ectoplasm ever since. Which sure, wasn’t exactly something I wanted to share with anyone. And maybe I didn’t deal with that well, but I think I dealt with that right. And I guess that’s all that matters”. Okay cool, so this is how he’s going to explain ditching them as friends, great. Fuck Danny’s so goddamn stupid. ‘Addiction’ was not on his bingo card of how to explain how weird he was to people… he really should update that stupid card.

Tucker’s glaring again like Danny’s done something wrong, except Danny doesn’t know why Fenton him is getting glared at this time. “Are you lying to me?”.

Fenton glaring back before sticking out his tongue, which was coated in faintly glowing green of course. Pulling his tongue back in, “do you know anything else that looks like that besides ecto? ‘Cause I sure don’t”; that had a bit more bite than he meant it to but oh well, he’s still kinda ticked off with this man so…

“And it doesn’t get you high?”.

Okay see now Danny’s getting actually ticked again. Fucking damn it. “No. Now if you’re going to just ride my ass then let me out so I can go somewhere that isn’t here”.

Tucker doesn’t move, in fact he locks his damn wheels, “no. Because that last conversation made me feel like an asshole and I refuse to feel like an asshole over you deciding to isolate yourself”, gesturing at the vial that’s still on the ground, “especially if all of it was over some stupid ectoplasm issue, you jack ass”.

“So what I’m hearing is you’re just being selfish”.

“So what if I am, I think I’ve earned that from you”.

Danny makes Fenton him relax over that, because if anything letting people take their issues out on him was something he was good for. “Ugh I guess that’s okay then”.

Now Tucker’s glaring again, “what”.

For fucks sake. “Dude, you’ve known me for years, since when did I ever put myself first? If you want to use me as a punching bag to unload your issues on, go right ahead”, snorting, “cause yeah, I’m well fucking aware it’s been earned. If you were Dash I’d tell you to piss off again”.

Tucker sticks his arms out, basically smacking the door, “so you’ll tell me to ‘piss off’ over not wanting to talk to you but won’t over me wanting to berate you?! Seriously?!”.

“Yes”. Fuck that was weird wasn’t it? Do normal human people do that? Or was he coming off as a massive hypocrite? Or as a masochist maybe?

Tucker pinches the bridge of his nose, still doesn’t unlock his chair though, “damn it, you have a bunch of mental issues now, don’t you”.

“Rude”.

“Yeah well now I just feel like more of an asshole, so there”.

They stare at each other for a beat, Danny’s trying really hard to mostly ignore Phantom having to play nice with Dale and his loose tongue again, apparently the guy really liked bluey. Fuck when was the last time Danny got really genuinely into any tv show? Had he even watched one since he dropped out? Crap probably not. If he had down time he was usually laying on the floor staring at the ceiling with a music playlist running, or having a quick drink with Val, or trying to study ghost history, or replaying an old video game he’s beaten hundreds of times just to feel young and carefree again.

Wow that had to be unhealthy. Not that he really cared about that. Blinking at Tucker, “so… what do you do for work”.

“I’m not telling you”.

“Fuck you too then I guess”.

Tucker puts his face in a hand and sighs very deeply with a muttered, “I was right, I really should not have come”, before lifting his head up and glaring up at Danny with goddamn pity in his eyes, “look, okay, I am sorry about brushing you off if you were genuinely worried about me having been badly injured and I guess I’m sorry you have this addiction issue, but you brought it on yourself. Me and Sam could have helped, you ass”.

“Tuck-”, crap he’s back to calling him ‘Tuck’ goddamn it, “-my head was a fucking mess after that shit, I have literally no memory from the three months after that crap. Just a boat load of pain cutting straight to sitting up in bed violently vomiting up ectoplasm. Excuse me for making some jack ass choices but again, I stand by those choices”, running a hand through his hair and leaning his ass back against the sink, “I thought that shit was gonna end with me dead, sooner rather than later, and I didn’t want to take you guys down with me. So I had to choose between the life I had with you guys and the moral thing to do. Kinda an obvious choice there, to me”. Honestly? Why was he explaining this shit now? Was it because his life was somehow less chaotic now? Or because he was an adult ghost and fully grown into what and who he was? Loneliness perhaps? Or did he just not want Tucker to actually hate him?

Tucker stares at him before wheezing, “Christ I wish you had just told at least me that”, massaging his temples and using the chairs arms to rest his elbows on, “if I remember right, which I might not, you basically didn’t talk and just stared blankly, it was creepy but your parents assured everyone you wouldn’t have any ‘long term’ issues. That you were just recovering and in shock. Not that dumbass fourteen year olds knew shit about shock-”.

Seriously? Seriously! What the Hell! Fenton blurting out, “what the zone is wrong with them! in what world would getting electrocuted by literally billions of volts not have a lasting effect?!”.

“-me and Sam basically carried you everywhere and babied you and then you suddenly flipped on us and avoided us like the plagu- wait what”.

Tucker looks horrified, crap that was not Danny’s goal. Oh well, he’s in it now. Fenton blinking, “Jack and Maddie sucking is what”.

“Dude”.

Fenton swallowing and rubbing his neck, “you guys were taking care of me?”. Okay so maybe Danny had been more of a jerk to them than he realised but still. Tucker glares so Danny bites the bullet and has Fenton respond properly, Tucker was an adult now not some teen who’d do stupid shit like follow Danny Phantom’s sorry ass into combat, “it was something like four billion volts, it was a miracle I wasn’t instantly vaporised into ash. As it was apparently Jazz came home to them attempting to bury what they thought was my dead body in the back yard, apparently I woke up during the argument and crawled out and ran into trees for three days”.

“They told us you were missing because you were in another cities hospital! They tried to bury you?!?”. Somehow Jack and Maddie just keep getting worse. Tucker wheezes again, “well regardless of you becoming an asshole, I’m glad you didn’t die, holy shit”, staring at Danny, “is that why you were so weird about my wheelchair? You thought something like that had happened to me?”. He takes Fenton’s wince as a yes. “Ugh fine you’re forgiven for that then, I can’t hold what’s probably severe trauma and ptsd against someone”, pointing at Danny, “you were still a jerk then and now though. And you basically shoving me away was awful and basically wrecked me mentally for a long time”.

Yeah Danny knew neither Sam nor Tucker took him pushing them away well, but being upset or depressed or confused or worried was better than getting caught in an undead fist fight or losing a limb or getting contaminated by him which he had thought back then would have been extremely dangerous. “I thought it was for the best, okay? And I didn’t mean to hurt you when I was basically hurting myself”.

“How the hell was push me away from my best friend ‘for the best’?!?”.

“Because I was all fucked up and I didn’t want my shit fucking you up”. That was part of it, at first anyways. Then it quickly became more of him having to be the hero and get into fights and not wanting anyone getting caught in the crossfires and waiting them to keep the ability to live normal fucking lives unlike him.

Tucker stares at him like he actually somehow gets it, huh, Danny didn’t see that one coming. “So you thought you’d get us sick? Or something? Just by being around us? Okay I know you’ve always been a bit of a dumbass but goddamn it, Danny”.

“I don’t know what the hell is happening in there but I’m taking a piss in the ladies room! what in the!”.

Both Fenton and Tuck (and Phantom for that matter) jerk a little from whoever shouted from outside the bathroom/locker room. Fenton cringing his face up, “right, this is a public space”.

Tucker sighing, “maybe not the best place for this crap conversation”, unlocking his wheels and roll backwards out of the little sink and mirror area doorway, “I’m still mad at you though”.

“That’s fair. I’m not looking to rekindle friendship or whatever”. Danny uses the man’s distraction to have Fenton telekinetically move the vial back into his hand and pocket.

“Seriously. Jerk”.

Fenton shrugs as he moves out of the little doorway, “I only really hang out with ghosts now and I actually am unsafe to be around too much if whoever doesn’t have a tolerance or protective gear, the ecto-contamination and shit”.

“That’s… pretty shitty actually”.

Fenton giving back a snide, “gee thanks”.

“You still shouldn’t have pushed us away. But I guess you still want to do that, so you do you I guess. Its not like I actually know you, or you me, anymore”.

“Yup”. Tucker bashes him in the back of the legs with the chair for that, “hey!”. Danny making Fenton sigh at the glare… and at Dash attempting to drill Phantom about football like that mattered anymore. Phantom couldn’t be sighing at Dash after all, images to maintain and all. “Look, Tucker, you got pissy over me staring at your wheelchair, that tells me your life’s doing pretty alright actually. If I was in a wheelchair and someone was staring I’d assume they were trying figure out how to use it to kill me. I sell weapons illegally and am dating a death god king, I’m not really shit you wanna be involved in”.

“What about Valerie?”, Tucker making a bit of a face, “that soul mate ghost thing I’ve been hearing is real?”.

Danny is absolutely about to throw Val under the bus, servers her right for still hanging around his half dead ass. “She… is a coworker let’s say, a not legal one”, not technically a lie, the Red Huntress wasn’t legally allowed to do what she did, it was just that no one could actually stop her. Thank fuck for that. Fenton huffing, “and we mostly only talk over drinks or if we run into each other during ghost attacks”. Then smirking, “and oh yeah me and Phantom are fucking match made in hell”. His own personal hell of protective desire and pain.

“You know what, you’re right. You’re an asshole, a criminal, and a necrophiliac; I’m out. I almost want to try but you stopped being worth it years ago. Still glad you’re not dead though”.

On one hand Danny wants to smack the guy, on the other hand Danny’s getting exactly what he wanted; and ain’t that just a terrible thing?

“How’d you find out you needed ectoplasm?”.

Oh Ancients, well… nothing was weirder than the truth with that one and fuck it at this point. “First time I ran into a whisp ghost I, kinda, couldn’t, exactly, stop myself from eating it”.

“You… ate a ghost?”.

“It was a really bad day and I’d rather you keep that in confidence”. Man he legit wants to get out of this damn bathroom/locker room now. Ugh. He starts walking to the door.

Tucker makes a gagging sound, muttering, “no one would even believe me anyway. I’m starting to think he did actually do me a favour as kids and that kinda pisses me off a little. I’ve spent too long being mad at that shit ass for me to feel good about that shit”.

Danny making Fenton pause at the door, one hand on it, “dude, I have freaky good hearing, go see your therapist and I hope you have one. You’re not the lost cause in this bathroom”, and then pushes his way out, leaving his old friend and the friendship more firmly behind.

He absolutely has Phantom ‘rescue’ Fenton immediately, throwing an arm around Fenton’s neck and ruffling his hair with the other hand, “I have escaped Dash and him ‘regaling me’ with his glory days”.

Danny makes Fenton sigh to seem tired, “that’s…”, brightening up, “thats good. He really did peek in Highschool, just like he said he would”. A self fulfilling prophecy, Danny pretty much did the exact same. The biggest jock and the biggest loser both fucking themselves up in the end; how ironic.

Danny makes Fenton sigh to seem tired, “that’s…”, brightening up, “that’s good. He really did peek in Highschool, just like he said he would”. A self fulfilling prophecy, Danny pretty much did the exact same. The biggest jock and the biggest loser both fucking themselves up in the end.

Then Val goes and actually rescues his ass, stomping over, “let’s bounce. I don’t want to be here or around these people anymore, and I want to get shitfaced until I start putting holes in walls or pass out on your crappy apartment floor”.

Fenton quirks an eyebrow, “you have literally never been over? How do you know it’s shitty?”.

“Because it’s your apartment”.

“Fuck you”.

Phantom quirking an eyebrow at her and tilting his head, “and who pissed you off?”.

Val grimaces, “Paulina, I swear she needs to get stabbed a couple times”.

Phantom laughing while Fenton gestures at Val with both of his hands, “no. Bad. If you start stabbing little miss pretty puddle I’ll get stuck having to clean up the blood before the cops show up-”. He can feel Tucker’s concerned eyes on him as the man wheels out of the bathroom/locker room. “-and I really don’t feel like being on crime scene clean up duty”.

Phantom perking up, “eh I could just phase it through the ground”.

“Don’t encourage her murderous desire”.

Val grins, though clearly still thinking this is super weird, “no, let him speak, he makes good points”.

“His only point is letting you make a point with a knife point”. She scowls at Fenton’s joke immediately, nice, at least that makes him feel legitimately a bit better. Either way Danny is content to leave this place before shit goes anymore south, and he has frankly had enough of humans and their weirdly boring plain interests. Looking at the crowd, it actually looked like some others had left. Todd, no surprise there. Charlie that he doesn’t think he ever even talked to as Fenton, he’s not sure if they talked in high school either though. Two of the jocks also looked to have bounced, Dash was still her of course and Scott didn’t look like he actually wanted to be talking to him. Ha. Brittany doesn’t look to be around either, meaning Sarah’s probably gone too if she was ever even here.

And then.

Of fucking course.

His ghost sense goes off.

Val’s reaction is instant, her folding out a blaster, the second she notices both Danny’s straightening up, stiff, and glancing around. Danny making both hims relax with annoyed sighs when he realizes who it is or one of the whos whatever. Phantom waving Val off, “it’s an eyeball, don’t”. The woman throws her hands up a bit, clearly annoyed that it was one of the ghosts that Danny was pretty strict on her not fighting.

Danny making Fenton scowl deeply, “oh fucking goddamn it, not those assholes”. Phantom rolling his green eyes fondly before stepping forward some and cupping his hands around his mouth, Danny should at least warn these people, “hey! Non-hostile incoming! They’re probably just showing to annoy me!”.

The reactions is immediate. Guess spending multiple teenage years in a town constantly plagued by ghost attacks tends to stick with you. Everyone pulling away from the walls, and anything box-shaped, and sticking to groups while glancing around in mild panic. The Observant comes up through the floor, jerk, in all their eye-ball shaped ugly cloak wearing green-skinned annoyance. “Phantom-”. Oh Danny can tell they’re here to lecture him or chastise him or something equally annoying and pointless. Nope. He’s not putting up with this.

Fenton smacking Phantom, “make me a suction dart gun construct”. Danny having Phantom do that without hesitation, even if it was a bit harder to make ecto-energy constructs outside of Amity or the Ghost Zone. Phantom passing over the sorta weapon, it has a pump action shotgun reload for comedic effect. Fenton pumping it immediately and shooting the Observant in the head/eye, “not today, eyeball asshole”.

“Phantom-”.

Oh how chastising, Fenton shots him again, “no”. The suction cups are actually sticking, awesome. But he’s got no interest in actually letting the eyeball actually say anything, so Fenton stalks over, putting a finger in the ghosts face, “fuck off, ‘Phantom’ isn’t your goddamn servant”. The Observant doesn’t look remotely chastised which frankly Danny’s a little goddamn ticked off about. These guys were constantly riding his ass and they act like they had some sort of high ground on him which they did not. So Danny has Fenton kick the ghost in the chest and basically jump on their chest, pointing the ‘gun’ in its eyeball/face and shooting it enough to cover its whole iris; its point blank enough to actually injury the ghost. The Observants were always more powerful as a mass than alone.

“Are you done?!”.

Fenton smirking, “no”, and smacking the ghost on the top of their head with the butt of the ‘gun’. Lowing the ‘weapon’ some, sighing tiredly, “now if this isn’t something actually important, I’m going to rip off all of your limbs”. And Danny means that, he will, he’s had it up to here with these guys.

The Observant, seeming to get this, just fucking disappears with a, “you need to be bound”; like he wasn’t aware they hated how much power he had.

“Fuck you. You exist in my favour”, Fenton hurling the ‘gun’ construct at the ground, it bouncing up a bit before dissolving into goo. Stupid jackasses.

“Geez Fenton where was that in high school, what the hell!”.

Both Danny’s jerking, Fenton looking back to Steven, “do you know how many ghosts annoy me because of that asshole?”, gesturing a thumb at Phantom who glances around innocently. Fenton huffing, “and yeah maybe I enjoy annoying the ones that annoy him, sue me”.

What makes it so clear that basically all these people have nothing to do with Amity any more is how all of them look on edge, nervous, unsettled, scared. They don’t ‘bounce back’ instantly and more than a couple eye Phantom nervously like they had just now remembered how arguably dangerous he could be. That Phantom was a ghost and could very well kill everyone in this room without much effort. As if Danny ever would do such a thing, he was a protector and if they wanted to forget that then screw them. Amity always was the weird place where humans and ghosts could actually remotely get along, even that was a crap shoot, humans would always be unsettled by ghosts and trying for genuine coexistence was fucking pointless. These people simply being away from ghosts for a few years and yet acting put off by one that was less human simply showing up was almost insulting to all his effort. Whatever, what did he care if most of humanity was too damn weak to handle not being the top of the food chain. Making Fenton scoff at everyone’s stares, “guess I should get gone, huh?”, and nods his head at Phantom.

Phantom stretching out and floating up to sort of lay in the air on his back, finger gunning at Val, “coming?”, as he moves to hover around Fenton’s head, ruffling Fenton’s hair fondly.

Jason blinking, “you know, I almost felt like I missed Highschool, thanks for reminding me why I absolutely do not”, and wheezes. While Star waves the two Danny’s off, “yeah should have guessed a ghost that wasn’t invited might follow Phantom”.

Phantom chuckling, “what can I say, I’m very attractive”. Making Fenton snort and blush, “shut up, you stupid ghost”. And making Phantom snicker meanly at Fenton.

Kwan shouting, “you better have a cute wedding!”.

Val rolling her eyes at the pair, pocketing her gun, and walking towards them while waving a hand over her shoulder, “bye. This was nice though”, muttering to herself barely loud enough for even Danny to hear, “regardless of certain people”.

Fenton rolling his eyes and waving at everyone, “I’d say you can easily visit me but I made myself hard to find for a damn reason and I vaguely hate most of your guts, peace bitches”. Phantom facepalming, watching Val and Fenton walk towards the door for a beat before looking to the people, him still floating up in the air, “everyone’s free to give me a visit of course, even though the fact that no one had before makes it kinda clear no one will, no hard feelings about that by the by. Besides, when you die we’ll met again”.

Star sighs at him, “that’s needlessly ominous, Phantom”. Phantom shrugging before floating off, “I’m dead, I don’t know what you expect. I can tell that none of you are going to die soon, so there’s that”, and giving them a thumbs up, absolutely ignoring how that doesn’t seem to actually make anyone feel better. It’s not Danny’s problem if ‘normal’ people aren’t comforted with ominous messages about the not so untimely demise, he thinks it would be a good thing knowing you’re not gonna die soon. Like really. He personally would have loved a heads up that he was gonna half die when that shit happened, a little count down or something would have been nice. A little count down to obliterating everything he used to be and wanted to be.

You know.

For the dramatics.

Danny absorbs his duplicate as soon as he’s outside of easy viewing range of the building, Val quirking an eyebrow at him, “I’m guessing you didn’t drive here?”.

“No? Why would I do that? And neither did you”.

She snorts at him, summoning out her board, “well hop on, I’m still down for drinks so”.

Danny eyes the board, “naw I probably should pass”. Bonding wasn’t really a good idea anyways.

She rolls her eyes, “come on, don’t be a stranger”.

“Being a stranger is kinda the point”. He has every intention of just going invisible and flying off, but she grabs his arm and yanks him onto the board before he can follow through on that thought, her muttering about him being a dumbass the whole time. Danny eyeing her, hands in his pockets and just sitting on the board, stupid stubborn ghost hunters.

Though… looking down, it was kinda nice to watch the city sights this leisurely. It’s filled with spots of damage and things being repaired even here in Elmerton still. It was impossible for everything to stay contained in one simple city after all, sometimes Danny debating expanding is human lair a bit more, just to keep more of an eye on more of it. Perhaps that was a speck of greed or just his overprotective nature.

Really it wouldn’t take much, honestly he had the power and ability to take over the entire planet if he so chose. And really, ghosts did crop up everywhere, and further ecto-contaminated cities and towns would just make more places possible to be common ground of sorts.

It wasn’t a bad idea…

Just not a good or human one either. He had to play human games to thrive and be accepted in the human world, even if those games were sometimes stupid and annoying and isolating. Hmmm… maybe he should get drinks with Val, she was at least slightly better with normal human things than him.

Looking down, there’s some patches of green growing in ash. Life from death, strength from destruction. Kinda like him.

She lands them on the ground, Danny standing easily as her board folds up becoming nanobots under and through her veins; an altered state of being similar and not to himself. Her making ‘come on’ gestures at him before heading in to one of the more beat down bars that don’t ask questions and assumes every patron is involved in something shady or another.

And Danny follows. Maybe he was a little too much of a loner.

End.

Prompts: Pretending to be someone's boyfriend for a night was not as high on Danny's list of crazy-ideas-he-should've-said-no-to as, say, agreeing to become the King of all ghosts, but it was definitely up there. Ten years since Danny graduated high school, and fourteen years since his accident. The former A-listers are organizing a high school reunion, and somehow both Danny AND Phantom got an invite… Seriously, how are these things still happening to him? Parents take apart Danny’s telescope for a new invention. Being dead somewhat drastically shuffles around your priorities. It's been a long time since Danny was able to remember what a human would feel to be important. Tucker Foley's terrible, awful, very bad day. No one knows au identity reveal

[yuurei20]

Hello! I was wondering if you have a post for the difference of the JP and EN versions of the Fairy Gala IF event? I wasn't able to find it in the master list, thank you!

Hello hello! Thank you for this question! 🧚

I am so sure there was one before but I cannot find it either, oh no 💦 While the Fairy Gala IF event had no significant changes, something fascinating happened in Silver's Fairy Gala IF vignette!

During the event itself we have a line by Ortho that confirms the craft faeries are female: he refers to them as 彼女たち (kanojo-tachi), which is a plural form of she/her.

Ortho could have said something else (just "the fairies", for example) if the game did not want to specify gender, but they intentionally chose the plural form of "she/her," instead.

But then, in Silver's vignette, he repeatedly refers to the same faerie (or an identical sprite) as "he/him," and "he/him" was an addition to the English-language adaptation.

In Silver's original dialogue he never actually specifies any pronoun at all, gendered or otherwise!

The images above include very literal translations which are a bit awkward in English ("Something is being made" etc.) as that is something the Japanese language does that English does not.

The EN adaptation is adding pronouns to dialogue all the time because the English language needs them in order to make sense, and while usually they get it right, sometimes they do not.

More here:

So where did "he/him" come from? Possibly from two factors:

It is possible that the localizations team(s) do not have access to the game's visuals as they work. (This is not uncommon in the translation industry. For things like subtitle translation we will often just receive an excel file or .txt file with time codes from the client, and otherwise no context. If it's a continuation of an ongoing project then we can usually fill in the blanks based on previous experience, but if it's something new then there will often be a lot of late-stage corrections.)

We have received hints before that this might be the case, such as ・The EN game describing the Diasomnia armband as yellow ・The EN game rewriting Kalim's "badge" as "armband" ・The EN game adding to Jade and Floyd's dialogue to make it sound as though they are at Octavinelle when they are actually in the school's courtyard

2. The craftfairy's personal pronoun of choice is 俺 (ore), which can be associated with men, but it is not exclusive to men and actually varies by person, situation and region.

More here:

Technically the faerie could have been of any gender if we were only going off of the dialogue from Silver's vignette where nothing is ever specified, which would make EN's interpretation neither right nor wrong.

But as the game has Ortho specify "female" through his choice of word for "they," I think this was maybe an example of pronoun confusion for EN :>

And that was all for Fairy Gala IF! Thank you again for this question!

[actingwithportals]

I wish more people understood that not every blind person is the exact same and we do not all need the same things and also the circumstances under how you were raised and when your blindness occurred and how involved you were in a blind community all play parts into what accessibility needs you will have.

Like. I was born legally blind. My vision has been for the most part stable my whole life, and it is likely to not change (unless normal worsening with age). I was raised in a family full of sighted people and all of my friends and members of my community were sighted people. I did not start meeting other blind people and joining blind communities until my early teenage years. This shaped me in such a way that I never learned Braille until I started teaching myself when I got older, did not learn to use a cane until I started attending blind camps as a teen, did not know I had an option of asking for accessibility with videos or images or menus or shopping or cooking or ANYTHING until I met other blind people who made it clear to me that there was a way I could exist with independence as a blind person and didn't have to just. miss out on life that I couldn't see.

So a vast majority of the way I taught myself to get by is very different from someone who spent a lot more of their early years around other blind people. But I also picked up a great deal of "normal" blind accessibility tricks from my teen years of involving myself with more blind communities that other blind folks who never involve themselves in blind communities are aware of or find useful.

My vision teacher as a kid showed me JAWS and explained what it was, but never really bothered to teach me to use it because ZoomText she decided was better for me. So I grew up to use screen magnifiers and not screenreaders. She didn't teach me Braille because she could get ahold of large print books, and when she couldn't she would find me a vast array of magnifiers to use. Ones with lights, ones in different shapes, some that were actual screen devices while others were simply glass. She didn't teach me how to use a cane and instead got me monoculars and bioptics, even though those actually...were not very easily usable to me. I had to teach myself how to use a cane after my first year of camp where I was gifted one, and later expanded upon learning when I finally took Orientation and Mobility training my year before moving out to college. I wouldn't start learning Braille until around the same time when I was given a Brailler by the specific state agency that provided assistive devices to blind students during high school and college.

So now, as an adult, what I find useful is reading text on a screen so that I can adjust my own contrast and magnification, I use a cane when walking around on my own outside of my home or other familiar areas, I use Braille on my keyboard and around on my household appliances so that I don't have to bend over or squint to attempt to read any settings or buttons or keys. A different blind person who grew up with different circumstances will have a very different list of assistive technology that is useful to them. Some will hate magnifiers and prefer audiobooks. Some would rather read Braille. Some will use puff paint or color-coding for household appliances or items like on clothing tags or toothbrushes. Some will use bioptics or monoculars when going to the theater instead of sitting close to the screen, or they might do both, or neither and will just listen. Some will use canes, some will use service dogs, some will use neither, or might prefer a sighted guide.

There are...so many ways a blind person might choose to make their life accessible. And we do not always agree with each other on what is best, because we do not all have the same eyes. Nor do we have the same ears, or hands, or feet. We are varied and complex and we disagree sometimes and come together other times and we discuss amongst ourselves on how to make things better for our community and we confer with other communities on how we help ourselves and help each other. We are not all the same. We are not all the same. We are not all the same.

If you want an answer for what is the One Agreeable accessibility feature for blind people: there isn't one. So just talk to us, instead. Get to know how we vary, how we relate, how you can best help one of us and how you might best help another. I'm sure we'd be happy to tell you what works best for us individually if you ask. And if we wouldn't, then that's ok. Sometimes we gotta figure things out on our own first before we can explain it to others. Either way, never stop asking. Because accessibility is always evolving, and someone is always going to have a different answer to the same question.

You can't get accessibility wrong if you're just willing to try. So keep trying.

[ms-snape]

i LOVE your writing sm!! could i request a Tom Riddle x reader where she sends him anonymous love letters and he somehow— for his own amusement— decided to write back which surprised her.

he meant for it all to be just for his benefit but slowly he started falling for the girl and one day she confessed who she is and he gives her chance!

Title: Letters From The Heart

Warning: Tom being Tom, opened end might be a part 2 depends on u guys

Words Count:3000+

Masterlist

---

There were things about Hogwarts that Tom Riddle had learned to both admire and despise. It was a place of power—raw, unfettered power—but it was also a place where the weak minded reveled in their ignorance. To Tom, power was everything. It was the key to control. It was what separated him from the rest of them, the ordinary masses who bowed and scraped, who lived in fear of their own limitations. And Tom had never been like them. He was exceptional. Brilliant. Born to be something more.

He had already begun to carve out his future, reshaping the world in his image. No one in the school, not the professors nor the students, could touch him. His intelligence, his ambition, and his presence were more than enough to put him at the top.

But it was the unexpected intrusion of something he could neither predict nor control that intrigued him.

It began with a letter.

It was a late evening when Tom returned to his dormitory, his footsteps echoing through the empty corridors of Slytherin House. The fire in the common room had long since died out, and the shadows seemed to stretch longer than usual, their cold fingers creeping along the stone walls. He was alone, as always, and that was how he preferred it. He didn’t need the company of others. People were tools, instruments to use when necessary, and once they had outlived their usefulness, they could be discarded. The thought made him smile faintly.

As he stepped into the private quarters assigned to him as a prefect, something caught his eye: a small, folded parchment sitting on his bed. There was no seal, no identifying marks on the paper. Just a single, carefully folded note. His mind clicked, instantly curious. He had grown accustomed to receiving praise from others—though never directly, always whispered behind his back—but this was different. Whoever this was, they had made sure no one knew of their message.

With a flick of his wrist, Tom summoned a candle, lighting it with a small burst of fire. The soft light revealed the elegant handwriting on the note.

"Dear Tom

I don’t know if you’ll ever read this, but I can’t help but admire you. Your brilliance, your strength, the way you walk through this school as though you are above it all. I have spent so many nights dreaming of what it would be like to be near you, to feel the same air, the same space. Maybe that’s foolish, but it’s true.

Your Secret Admirer"

Tom stared at the letter. It was oddly intimate, almost too personal for someone so clearly intent on staying anonymous. His lips quirked upward in amusement. Someone—some girl, most likely—was infatuated with him. He should have dismissed it immediately, but instead, he found himself reading it again. The words were filled with reverence, with a longing that he had seen before in the eyes of countless students, but this letter… this letter was different. There was something about the way it was written. It didn’t scream desperation, it whispered with a quiet intensity.

With a quiet sigh, he folded the note back up, slipping it into the drawer of his desk. It wasn’t worth his time to think about. He had more pressing matters to attend to. But the next day, when he returned to his dorm after a long day of lessons, another letter awaited him.

This time, it was heavier, the parchment thicker. He opened it with the same mixture of curiosity and indifference. The words were different, yet the tone remained the same. Reverence, fascination, and a touch of fear. The writer spoke of his eyes, the way they could see through people, cutting through their facades and exposing their weaknesses. They spoke of how his mere presence seemed to command attention, how it was as though he were not of this world, but something far greater.

This time, Tom smiled darkly. "How pathetic."

But there was something else lurking in the back of his mind. He had always enjoyed the power of being admired, but this was different. This felt almost… personal. There was something about the tone of the letter that intrigued him.

What if he responded?

He had never had to chase after attention—his reputation did that work for him. But the thought of an unknown admirer… someone who dared to admire him from the shadows… it was a mystery he found himself wanting to solve. Perhaps it would be amusing to see where this led.

And so, he wrote his first response.

"To my anonymous admirer,

Your words have reached me. Your admiration is noted, though I wonder—do you truly understand the depth of what you are feeling? Do you even know what you desire from someone like me? I do not give my attention easily, and I do not waste my time on those who are not worthy of it.

But I must admit, your persistence is… interesting. I wonder if you will continue to write me, or if you will fade away as so many before you have done. You are already more than most of the students here, and yet… I wonder what you truly want from me."

Until then, I await your next letter.

Tom M Riddle."

He sent the letter off with a casual flick of his wand, his heart not quite as indifferent as he would have liked. The idea of a mystery—an admirer—was not something that Tom was accustomed to. And yet, he felt… something. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was boredom. Whatever it was, it was enough to keep him engaged in this strange game.

For the next few days, Tom carried on as usual. He attended his classes, ignored the sycophants who tried to gain his favor, and continued to plot his rise to power. But still, he thought about the letters. The words. The careful way in which the writer expressed their feelings. Whoever this person was, they had talent. They could write—really write—and there was something deeply personal about their observations of him.

As the weeks passed, the letters kept coming. Tom found himself growing increasingly intrigued by the mystery behind them. The messages were no longer simply filled with praise and longing; they had become more introspective. The writer spoke of their own struggles, their dreams, and fears. They confided their deepest thoughts in a way that no one else ever did. It was as though they believed they could open themselves up to him without fear, even though they knew nothing about him.

There was a certain beauty in that, Tom thought. A rawness he had never allowed anyone to see. Not even himself.

But each letter was also a test. He found himself crafting his responses with greater care. He was no longer playing just for amusement. He was fascinated by the writer's mind, by how she saw him. And the more he read, the more he began to wonder: Who was she?

His answers to her letters became more pointed, more calculated. He wanted to see how far she would go. How much she would reveal. He would lead her on, keep her writing, keep her thinking about him, all the while weaving his own twisted thoughts into her mind.

"To my dear admirer,

I have been thinking about your letters, about how you speak of your own weakness. You claim to admire my strength, my power, but I suspect you are simply looking for someone to guide you, someone to help you overcome your own failures. But do not misunderstand me. I do not give my attention to the weak. And you, my dear, are still weak."

"But I will say this—your letters intrigue me. I wonder what else you are hiding behind your words. Perhaps there is more to you than meets the eye."

Until then, I remain curious.

Tom M Riddle."

Days turned into weeks. The letters kept coming, and each one felt like a thread pulling them closer together. Tom found himself reading them with a strange sense of anticipation. The game had shifted. It was no longer just about power, nor about winning some hollow admiration. There was a deeper layer to it, something he hadn’t expected. A sense of longing had crept into his responses, subtle but unmistakable.

Then, one day, the letters stopped.

For days, Tom waited for another envelope to arrive. He convinced himself it was nothing. A mere blip in his game. Yet, as the silence stretched on, he realized he was growing… frustrated. Was this the end? Had she given up? Had she finally realized that she had been writing to someone who was untouchable, someone who had no interest in the fragile, fleeting emotions of love?

It was late one evening when he returned to his dorm after a long day of plotting and maneuvering. He opened the door to his room, and there, resting on his bed, was another letter.

But this one was different.

The handwriting was familiar. It was the same as before, but this time, there was something else. Something more direct. More honest.

"Tom,

I can’t hide from this anymore. I’ve been writing to you for weeks, pouring my heart into these letters, and yet, you still don’t know who I am. Maybe that’s a part of me I never wanted to reveal, but I can’t keep pretending. I’m YN YLN. You’ve been reading my words, and now I want you to see me.

I’m not perfect. I’m not like the others who crave your attention, who will do anything to be near you. But I’ve never been able to stop thinking about you. From the first moment I saw you, I knew there was something about you. Something I couldn’t explain.

And now, I’m standing before you. Will you accept me? Or will you push me away like you’ve done with everyone else?"

Tom’s breath caught in his throat as he read the letter. His thoughts spiraled. YN. So that was her name. This wasn’t just some foolish infatuation after all. This was real. This was… genuine.

He stood frozen for a moment, the letter crumpling slightly in his hand.

The game had changed.

Tom stared at the letter, his sharp eyes scanning the words for meaning, for any indication that he was being played. But there was nothing in her handwriting that suggested dishonesty. YN. Her name was simple, unremarkable, and yet the moment he saw it, it felt like a key had turned in his mind. This was no longer just a game, no longer some childish correspondence. No. This was real. The walls Tom had built around himself began to crack, ever so slightly, as his thoughts tumbled over themselves.

He had known, on some level, that this was coming. He had felt it in the tone of her letters, in the way her words had begun to shift from worship to something deeper, more dangerous. He had played his part in their little dance, baiting her, pushing her boundaries, testing the waters. He had wanted to see how far she would go—how much of herself she would give. And she had given him everything.

But now… now she had taken it one step further. She was no longer hiding behind the veil of anonymity. She was standing before him, vulnerable, exposing herself to him in a way no one else ever had.

Her confession had been straightforward, unembellished, as though she was laying bare a piece of her soul. And in that moment, Tom realized something he hadn’t anticipated. It wasn’t just about power, or control, or winning. This wasn’t some mindless pursuit. This was a connection, one that he couldn’t control. That realization gnawed at him, sending a ripple of unease through his chest.

For the first time, Tom Riddle didn’t have all the answers.

He took a step toward the window and let the letter fall from his hand, the parchment drifting softly to the floor. His eyes focused on the dark expanse of the grounds outside, but his mind was far from the peaceful, mist-covered landscape. It was consumed with the girl who had sent him these letters. YN. A name, a face—finally. He could almost picture her now, her eyes, the way she must have written each word with such care, such fear.

The very idea of someone daring to feel so deeply for him both repelled and fascinated him. What had she seen in him, in the cold, calculating Tom Riddle? The one who had built walls so high that even the most persistent attempts to scale them were doomed to failure? Why had she, of all people, chosen him?

He walked over to the desk, his long fingers brushing the edge of the drawer where he had kept her previous letters. Each one a fragment of something he could never fully grasp. And yet, here she was. His admirer. His equal, perhaps. Someone who had outsmarted him, pulled him into a game he hadn’t even realized he was playing.

He ran a hand through his dark hair and sat down in his chair, his eyes falling on the letter once more. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting—an answer? A revelation? But all he could think of, all he could hear in the silence of the room, was her final question.

Will you accept me?

Tom had never known acceptance. At least, not in the way YN seemed to mean it. He was a man who had built his life around rejection—both his rejection of others and their rejection of him. But YN… YN had refused to be cast aside. She had fought for his attention, and in a way, she had earned it.

But could he give her what she wanted?

The next morning, Tom was awake before the sun, a habit he had maintained throughout his time at Hogwarts. His usual morning routine was mechanical, precise, but today, something was different. He found himself replaying her letter over and over in his mind, hearing the tremor of her voice in his head as if she had spoken the words aloud.

She had bared her soul to him, and all he had given her in return were cold, calculated responses. Was he capable of something more? Was he capable of meeting her honesty with his own?

He hadn’t decided when he arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast. As he sat down at the Slytherin table, his eyes swept the room, and for the first time, he let them linger. He searched the faces around him, looking for someone, anyone who might give him a clue. Who could she be? The girl who had written to him with such fervor, who had laid her heart at his feet without hesitation.

It didn’t take long for him to find her.

At the far end of the hall, sitting with her friends, YN was eating quietly. Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her face in a way that almost seemed too delicate for the sharpness of her eyes. She was quiet, her usual smile absent, replaced by a faraway look as though her mind was elsewhere. Tom couldn’t look away.

For a moment, his gaze was fixed on her, and though she hadn’t noticed him yet, he could feel the connection between them, pulling at him like an invisible thread.

And then, as though sensing his attention, she looked up.

Their eyes met across the vast expanse of the room, and time seemed to slow. Her expression was unreadable, but her gaze was steady. There was no fear, no hesitation. Just a quiet strength in the way she held his gaze. In that moment, something shifted in Tom.

It wasn’t just about the letters anymore. It wasn’t about her yearning or his amusement at the game. It was something deeper, something that he couldn’t quite define.

He broke the stare first, his heart unexpectedly racing as he returned to his food, though his appetite had suddenly vanished. His fingers tightened around the edge of his plate, and his thoughts swirled with possibilities.

It was late that afternoon when Tom found himself walking through the halls, his footsteps echoing in the silence. He had thought long and hard about the letter, about YN, and what he was willing to do.

He had told her that he was curious. But now, as he rounded a corner and saw her standing there, waiting near a set of old classrooms, he realized that his curiosity had turned into something else entirely.

She stood still, her eyes locked on his, waiting for him. He hadn’t asked for this—he hadn’t asked for her to be so brave, so open—but there she was. She had stripped away every defense, every mask, and she was waiting for him to make the next move. To give her an answer.

"YN," Tom said her name for the first time, his voice cold but laced with something else—a tremor, a hesitation he hadn’t known he was capable of. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or something else, but it was there.

Her eyes softened at the sound of her name, and she stepped forward. “Tom, I—”

Before she could say anything else, Tom closed the distance between them, his hand rising instinctively to touch her arm. The contact was brief, but the electricity between them was undeniable. He could feel her pulse beneath his fingertips, steady but quick. She was nervous. She had to be. But Tom wasn’t sure what he was feeling. What did it mean when someone looked at you like they trusted you completely, without question? He had never been trusted before—not in this way.

“I didn’t think you would actually come,” YN whispered, her voice barely audible. “I thought you would reject me.”

Tom looked at her with a mixture of amusement and something softer, more contemplative. “I’m not the type to reject someone like you.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion, and Tom couldn’t help but smirk, leaning in slightly. He wanted to kiss her, and yet, he held back. Instead, he let his words sink in.

“You’ve made your feelings clear, YN. Now it’s my turn to decide.”

She opened her mouth, but he silenced her with a single finger to her lips. “You don’t need to say anything more. I already know. But you’ll have to wait. Wait until I decide whether I’ll accept this… or if I’ll destroy it.”

For a moment, her eyes shone with uncertainty, but then they darkened with resolve. She nodded, as though knowing this was all part of the game he had set in motion. And maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t afraid of losing.

And that made all the difference.

Tom Riddle had always been a master of control. But YN had something that even he couldn’t quite manipulate. She had a way of making him feel—of making him question whether he was as invincible as he thought.

He didn’t know what would happen next. But he knew that he wasn’t done with her yet.

[kandadze]

Ep 27 loose thoughts

Well, that's one way of snapping someone shell-shocked out of making a drastic decision. I feel like PSJ snapped something in herself at this moment, too. Anyone else found the ancestor's commentary going on in the background while the girls are bawling their eyes out hilarious? Just me? Okay.

While I was waiting for the ever burning wood to activate or something, the moment WX opened the box to reveal dried flowers I choked. ZYC!!!

Baby!Yichen breaks my heart, so impressionable, so open to learn. It's interesting to see that the phrases about suffering we've seen him use as an adult might have come from WX... Not a fan of telling people in mourning to stop dwelling in misery and sadness like it's as simple as flipping a switch (not to mention, she apparently *just* met him for the first time? The heck?), but at least the rest of her words seem to have helped him... so much that he kept the flowers 😭 The irony of her snow metaphor contrasted with their current predicament is indeed exquisite, A+ for that.

Are they going to be saved by the power of lurrrrve??? (At least this time. Still holding out for how that's gonna play out in the finale.) I mean, what other way to sway an ancient creature who's seen pretty much everything there is to see, than to show them something new? What's that? A test for a future event? (I'm getting really paranoid about nothing we've seen so far being real. It's like Alice in Wonderland on a bigger scale. Or Finnegans Wake on a smaller scale. I don't know.)

Oooh Bingyi and Ying Long, our original doomed couple (of self-sacrificial idiots)! I would watch a whole drama just about them. And damn, I can definitely see where Zhao Yuanzhou got his masochism from. Stoppppp not "Just let me be the first star"! (Especially since I just remembered ZYZ's "I'll be the rain...") It's not supposed to be literal! 😭😭😭 Ahhhh this scene just broke me, also because it seems to reinforce the idea that ZYZ *has* to be killed for the greater good. The visualssss in the execution- sacrifice? What the heck do I even call it?- scene though, soooo good!

"Let me do it myself." LET ME DO IT MYSELF??? FUCKKKKKKK DAMNIT HE JUST- ::head in hands, crying forever::

"Remember. This is my choice, not yours. You don't have to bear any blame or guilt." That's not how that works. That's not how any of that works!

Again, we're dealing with choices. But the fact that ZYZ choice was the same as Ying Long's... the fact that YL says that neither he nor Bingyi had any regrets... oh this is going to hurt.

Oh? ZYZ's future is not what he wants? (And wouldn't that be funny, considering ZYZ's own words while schooling ZYC in the very first ep... 9 times out of 10, things don't go our way?)

"You two are really like us." 😭😭😭

I was wondering if they were going to show us what ZYC saw, and not only does the image of ZYZ's body on that dark floor mirror Ying Long's body floating in the water, both ZYZ and ZYC wear the same clothes as in the very few scenes from the trailer that didn't happen yet... These poor sods, they've been Going Through It for almost a decade now with the only end in sight being yet another tragedy (even if the drama seems to suggest that they don't see it that way at this point.) ::head in hands, crying continues::

"My friend is here. We'll go together." The *sound* I made. Everything else this drama has given me aside, the growth of these characters and their bonds is so well done, and absolutely precious to me.

I want Ying Long's hopes and wishes for them to become true. Seeing how there's hints everywhere in this drama, I hope the words of one of the most powerful beings in existence will count for *something* in the end! (Am I grasping at straws? Maybe. Let me be delusional for a bit longer.)

What do you mean, five, ZYC? What's Ying Lei, chopped liver?

Oof this *almost* hug before WX starts feebly hitting ZYZ. It's relief, it's anger, it's fear for the next time, it's all the feelings that became too big to contain. I feel her so much. (I would've started whacking both him and ZYC way earlier tbh 😅) And ZYZ allowing her that release before pulling her in for reassurance, patting her as if she was a scared child. 😭 Cut to PSJ, looking as if she wanted nothing more but to be the one offering the reassurance to WX. Cut to ZYC, remembering that willingly or not, he's going to hurt WX beyond reassurance. Once again, the bonds in this drama!

Wait hold up hold on what? You just removed Bingyi's blood from him, that should mean that ZYC will not have to become a demon, right? So what's that about developing the inner core? (Also, I just realized that so far all they got from this trip was "go east and ask for a dragon scale" lol) Thankfully him and ZYZ had their conversation(s) about titles and identities so being asked to make that particular choice was not completely out of left field at this point. And all he cares about is whether that means that the last trace of Ying Long will disappear! 😭 (I'm so with Bingyi on this one... I would hold onto that last shred of my friend's existence, too, *especially* if they offed themself via my goddamn sword.)

What's with that look after he says that he thinks he has it - the inner core - is there a joke here somewhere? (I *gotta* go back to learning the language, the things I'm undoubtedly missing on!) The only thing I can think of is - did they think he said he's pregnant??? ::dies:: "So what's your true form?" "Must be dragon." "I say you're a mule." "Better than being a monkey." "I'm a white ape!" ::dies again:: Nice to see we still get a friendly ribbing between all of them, and I can breathe after all the angst. Fingers crossed? There's still 5 minutes left...

Oh good, let's talk about getting Bai Jiu back! (I knew there was one more character from the opening credits that didn't show up yet... guess it's the rebel princess.) While Ao Yin is eavesdropping! Talk about good hearing. Sigh, here it comes, another goal they have that will conflict with Li Lun's; they want the scale to restore the sword, and LL not only doesn't want that to happen, the scale could potentially help him get rid of the poison.

Oh for fuck's sake, I think I was subconsciously waiting for Chongwu Camp to show up, knowing that they've eavesdropped on the gang earlier, and here they are. ZYZ should really think of putting up some sound barrier when they discuss important plans, everyone seems to know exactly what they'll be doing at any given moment!

Ahhhh we're getting a nod to that little cough and stumble WX had shortly before this trip. Something's wrong with Baize token? Or with her connection to it? We only have 7 episodes left, drama!

(ZYC is such a good little brother.) Oh great, it was the rebel princess who killed WX's dad? I repeat, we only have 7 episodes left!

Sigh... with only 7 episodes left, we *also* find out that the goddamn 3-face-mask has history with the princess? And has everyone and their mother sat on that little bridge???

This feels like the endless final scenes in Peter Jackson's "Return of the King," my head is spinning.

Note to self, *stop* looking at previews. Ying Lei, what the absolute fuck?

[darkmoonchild]

•I blame the Kitchen Fan Lullaby for this idea. And I also my re-awaken obsession with Ghost.•

Warning: Angst and death. This is just sad.

Summary: As Ghost finds himself fading away, he can’t help to have his mind wander to what could have been.

— — — — — — — —

The mission had gone wrong. Horribly wrong.

Simon found himself stumbling down a dimly lit hallway, wounded badly and bleeding heavily. His breath was ragged and every step he took there was nothing but pain engulfing him. The only thing that made his situation better was that his team was safe and out of harms way.

Finally allowing the pain to take over him, Simon leaned against the wall and slowly slid down to the floor. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, feeling woozy from the blood lost. His vision was also going in and out, becoming fuzzy before he forced it back clear with a slight tap to his cheek. With a frustrated groan Simon removed his head gear, skull mask and his balaclava. His hair was laced in sweat and so was his face.

Simon knew he was not going to make it out of this god forsaken building. He raised a shaky hand and opened one of the breast pockets of his vest, retrieving a picture. It was a little black and white sonogram of a baby. His baby. His little girl.

You, his loving wife of four years, had sent it to him in a letter weeks ago. Of course, you had already announced to him over the many video calls you two shared of the news. He—as you jokingly said—had hit the target the first try, and before he was deployed had gotten you knocked up. Sure neither of you were thrilled he was miles and miles away facing danger while you were home, growing a life alone and could possibly give birth to the babe by yourself. You weren’t really alone. You had your friends and family to help while he was away and Simon was thankful to them all. He just hoped he’d they’d all would still be there for you with what comes next.

The sonogram of his daughter, his little Amadora, was your last one before birth. He could see from the image she would have your nose, small and cute as a button and your same pouty lips. Maybe she’d have his eye color and maybe his hair? Fuck. He wish he would be around long enough to know.

Simon used to not fear death, he’d always embraced it as a friend anytime he was in the field, and always anticipated something like this would happen. Growing up how he did made him hard. He was a solider. So, if he died being one, dying for his team, dying to protect the innocent, dying as the goddamn Lt. “Ghost” Riley he was, then so be it. Yet, that changed when you came into the picture.

You with your good hearted nature, your ambitiousness, and your power to turn everything bright around you. You were the most stubborn woman he had ever met and yet he loved that about you. The feisty side you could have and how you could have easily beat every man on the task force with a hand tied behind your back. Price always commented on how you were one hell of a woman to be the only female on Task 141.

Simon loved your feisty side. He loved your sweet side. He loved you. Love was a foreign feeling to him until you came around and he could drop every wall he built up in his life for you. Only you. His true love, his best friend and his sweet little missus.

When you left the force, it was a mutual decision. Stuff got too much for you after a while but Simon was always there. And you two kept your relationship going, and after about six years together, Simon popped the question to you. He remembered how you wrapped your arms around him, knocking the both of you to turn ground as you kissed all over his face, his lips, anywhere you could while sobbing happily like a baby.

Simon wished he could see those tears again as you both held your daughter for the first time. See them when you dropped the little tike off to her first day of school, going off to college and he wished he could walk her down the aisle like every little girl wished their daddies would do on their wedding day. Because he knew you’d have those tears coming down your face, and he was not too much of an asshole to admit, tears would be coming down his face as well.

But he won’t.

He’d have to watch all the big mile stones from the clouds. Or wherever the fuck he was going.

Feeling your body grow cold was an odd feeling. Or the slow realization that your heart was beating slower and slower, and breathing was getting harder to do. And when you could they were hollow and uneven.

Simon kept looking at the sonogram in his hand, holding to it tightly, fighting his hand that kept wanting to become loose as his body slowly started giving up on him. He smiled softly.

He thought back to a random conversation you two had one morning, laying in bed on a Saturday afternoon. You remembered a science lesson from the tenth grade, where your teacher had mentioned that at death the brain has just enough function to remember seven minutes of happy thoughts, or basically what coulds. Just like it had the same function to allow the eyes and mouth to move before the brain, too, died. And he remembered how you ran a hand over his mask less face, letting your finger tips run over the scruff he had developed from being off duty, and told him that whenever it was your time, he’d be your seven minutes.

Simon had kissed you softly after that. The kiss growing more passionate until early morning love making happened. Something the both of you enjoyed.

Swallowing thickly, hardly any saliva from how his mouth and throat were so dry, Simon closed his eyes one more time.

Memories of the both of you came to his mind. The good, the bad, the ugly and the wonderful. His team, his friends, his brothers came to his mind. And everything every one of them had been through together in the years he spent with them. Then he used the last bit to see for himself an image of you and the baby together.

You would be in the kitchen cooking breakfast, Amadora on your hip as you hummed that little song you always sung. Swaying from side to side slowly as you watched the pancakes on the griddle.

You always had woken up before him and giving that a baby was now added to the mix, getting up early was out of the question. You could always wake him and he made sure to always tell you that, but you never wanted to do it. You always wanted to let him sleep because you just knew he was tired. He would be but he wouldn’t mind if you woke him to help you with anything. Even settling the baby down.

Amadora was what he hoped she looked like. She had your nose and your pouty lips, and some of the faces she made were all you. Yet, some were him as well. Her skin fair with dark hair like his. It was even uncontrollable in the mornings like his was when his hair grew back after shaving it for work. And her eyes? Hell. She had his same hazel brown eyes, a little bit of green near her pupils. Her brown was a bit more warmer than his but they were still like him.

You would turn to face him with a smile on your face and at the sight of him, your daughter would beam a toothless grin behind her pacifier. Her deep dimples showing perfectly on her chubby cheeks. Simon would walk over to his beautiful girls, kissing his little daughter on her head and rubbing his nose with hers before turning to you, wishing you a Goodmorning before letting his lips meet yours. The kiss was always slow and loving, always had been. You always smiled into the kiss and placed your hand on either his cheek or cupped his chin as he lovingly held his hand to the nape of your neck.

He would wrap his arms around your waist and rest his chin on your shoulder, placing a few kisses to the bare skin. A smile on his face as he would look back, wondering how he got so lucky and just glad he did something with his life to end up with you.

“I’ll see you soon my loves,” Simon spoke with a voice barely above a whisper, “just wait for me until then.”

His breathing slowed and slowed until he could feel his head dipping down, chin resting against his chest. This was supposed to be his last mission for a while to go watch his daughter come into the world, and this was his last mission. But it was his last mission because he sacrificed himself for his team. He had mentioned to Soap prior to the mission that morning if anything happened to him that Simon wanted him to be the one to deliver the news. And he knew Soap would and would do anything in his power to be there for you and the baby.

The right grip he held in his daughter’s sonogram loosened and the picture slipped from his grasp. It fell on the floor beside him, your neat handwriting in red pen on the bottom, acting as if the baby had written it, saying, “I can’t wait to meet you, Daddy!”

An image of your smiling face came to him once more, for the very last time. With what little strength he had left to even move his face muscles, the corner of his lips turned up into a smile before they fell again into a straight line.

Before he even knew it, darkness over took him. And Simon Riley took his very last breath.

[forestlingincorporated]

I’m pretty new to Megaman, so I haven’t gone through all of the canon media yet but I am enjoying your comics so… what’s NOVAS, what’s up with, and why is it bad?

Aaah, Novas Aventuras de Megaman....

Novas was a licensed Brazilian Mega Man comic book developed by Estúdio PPA and published by Editora Magnum in the 90s. It's well-known for being... bad. The kindest words I can use to describe Novas is "edgy" and "unprofessional."

I'm interpreting this quesion to be not just "what is Novas" but also "WHY is Novas" so I did a little bit of research to get you a full answer, and not just my horrified reaction to it.

The book was published not long after the Ruby Spears cartoon. Apparently the book's early writer and editor, José Roberto Pereira and Sérgio Peixoto had been in touch with Character Toy Trade, who licensed Capcom products to Brazil. Upon hearing of the Ruby Spears release, Pereira and Peixoto pitched a comic to Editora Magnum.

Apparently, they wanted to do this so badly that, to convince Magnum's execs to enter a publishing deal, they offered to work... for free, earning nothing for the first ten or twelve issues.

While it's not unusual for a comic run to use multiple artists and contain varying art styles throughout, most of THIS title was drawn using unpaid labor from fans solicited through the magazigne it was published in, Animax, and it shows. Readers were prompted to submit their art tests to the publishers, and out of those the best of the lot was selected. To participate, the candidate had to send 6 pages of comics, 2 in pencil, two finished art and two colored. Contributing artists were compensated with a copy of the published issue to use in their portfolio. Quite literally working on spec for exposure.

Most of it is, simply put, not the quality you expect from a publisher. Fair is fair, though, and I would be remiss not to aknowledge that some of these artists went on to be very well-respected comic artists, such as Daniel HDR (who did MM2 and 16, and has now worked for Marvel, DC, Dynamite Ent. and Image Comics, was the winner of DRAGON AWARDS 2020 - BEST GRAPHIC NOVEL for Battlestar Galactica: Counterstrike, and is the CEO of Dínamo Estúdio art School in Brazil) and Érica Awano (who got her start with MM4, and now known for her works related to the Tormenta universe and has recieved the Troféu HQ Mix).

The art... is the least of their issues, though. I've read plenty of webcomics where the art began, let's say, amaturish, but the story and writing more than made up for it. I can't say the same is true for Novas.

It's baffling that Pereira and Peixoto fought to have this book, given neither of them appeared to give a single shit about the source material. My understanding is manga and anime was very popular in Brazil at the time. I'd call it a cashgrab, but they weren't paid for most of it. Editor-in-chief Sérgio Peixoto admitted neither he nor Pereira had ever played a Mega Man game before and all they knew about the story was some information they got from someone who played the games. Further more, despite the first two issues including promotional art from Ruby Spears and official art from the games, including a large centerfold poster that remained for two additional issues, Pereira believed Ruby Spears was "very bad." He didn't think much of the games' plot either, what little he knew of it.

Pereira's distaste for American media and adaptations is painfully obvious within the text of Novas, which takes the time to address the audiance to soapbox about imported media. This is, in part, done in a self-depricating sort of way, but seems to be the driving force behind the decision to even make Novas. Peixoto admits Character offered them "the original Megaman manga" (the Shigeto Ikehara "Rockman" manga, I believe) but he turned it down to do a Brazilian-made book. They wanted Megaman to be drawn by Brazilians and in the manga style - very fixated on being a "manga" rather than a "comic." Despite apparently knowing the product is low-quality, Peixoto appears to be proud to have "made 16 editions of the first manga magazine created entirely in Brazil, using a world-famous character."

I suppose that's the tipping point - "a world-famous character." No care for Megaman, no, but care that he's famous. Pereira apparently had every intention to have his own OCs take over the book after Megaman got readers in the door - apparently intending to kill off the megaman characters in graphic ways - but he left the project after #5, citing that he couldn't actually write his "own" story and... well, lack of payment. Peixoto wrote number 6, and Orlando Tosetto Jr. was brought on to do 7-16.

The desire to provide opportunities for local writers and artists is admirable... in theory... but... hardly anyone got paid and it's not exactly a book I would be proud to have my name on.

But enough about Novas' unpaid labor, quesionable motivations, and poor research. The writing is just... bad.

The plot is all over the place. There are so many dropped plot threads, tone shifts, continuity issues, and retcons in only 16 issues, it'll make your head spin. It reads like a 15-year-old boy made a megaman comic because he thought there should be more swearing and naked girls.

The least of the writing's issues stem from the fact that they barely knew the plot, so character backstories, personalities, relationships, etc. are all over the place. Forte/Bass is named "Slasher" and he takes on a Protoman-type role as a Light bot and sibling, while Protoman is implied to be this mysterious mastermind-type character pulling strings behind the scene, Roll used to be human and is super special for some reason, Rock's an asshole, and X is a horny whiney pissbaby asshole...

It's crude.

It's bloody.

It's horny.

Sometimes downright disgusting.

And one can't ignore the incest.

There are... MUCH more egregious panels, I'm trying to keep it tame. There's a LOT of pointless nudity, including a scene near the end where they're kidnapped and tied up but only the women are stripped naked... for no discernable reason, I can't even say it's because their kidnappers are being disgusting, because they're not, even X is behaving himself for once.

I'd love to say the incest was an accident, but it's not, they actively call each other brother and sister.

Occationally the comic veers into dark topics, but the ever shifting tone and oversexualization makes it hard to tell how I - the reader - am supposed to feel about it. While I'm busy being horrified, I can't help worrying someone's getting off on child abuse and murder.

Maybe this kind of misogynistic gross-out shock-value was funny at the time. I've seen a few people remark on this comic's run fondly, saying they liked it when it came out. I can't imagine ever thinking it was good.

If anyone would like to know more about Novas without subjecting themselves to reading it, Mechanical Maniacs does their best to summarize.

[totallyveryallosexual]

I see a lot of people say that people self diagnose neurodivergence because it's "quirky" or cool or something, which shows a lack of understanding of self diagnosis that I would like to correct.

1. I personally do not think I have autism because I "saw a tiktok and related to it". I think I have autism because I fulfill the diagnostic criteria that I have looked into extensively. I have sensory difficulties. I get overwhelmed by sound, and light, and the wrong fucking texture un my clothes or food. I was made fun of my entire childhood for "taking things too seriously", and I took what people said at face value, because I took things far too literally. I spent my entire childhood figuring out how to act normal, how to say the right thing at the right time so I wouldn't be made fun of or excluded. I am extremely comforted by various types of stimming, but was punished as a child for anything considered fidgety or abnormal. I love biology, and can infodump to you about genetics (special interest) for hours. This is an interest that can be considered abnormal, and it has consumed most of my available brain space for many years. Also, every single autistic person I've ever met has clocked me in about five seconds and immediately told me I have autism. The truth is, people don't self-diagnose themselves with a highly stigmatized disorder unless it is seriously impacting their lives.

2. Autism, especially in girls and bipoc, is often missed. If they can learn to mask it, it doesn't get diagnosed. I got straight A's all throughout high school, and I had teachers tell me that they thought I had autism, but that it was probably fine because it didn't impact my academics or my life. Spoiler alert: it did! People think that when a seemingly functional person claims to have autism, they are hopping on a trend, but most of the time, they are suffering. I was depressed and sometimes suicidal before I figured out I had autism. I got called a psychopath for things that should have been recognized as symptoms of autism, and a lot of the time I believed it because I didn't have any other words for myself. Our society is shitty and if you aren't a little cis white boy, it's much harder to get diagnosed.

3. Diagnosis is expensive, and hard to access! A lot of people don't realize that it's a privilege! It costs a lot of money to get diagnosed, money that not everyone can afford. It's also hard to get a diagnosis because of social stigma, especially if you figure out you have some form of neurodivergence under the age of 18. I'm a month shy of being a legal adult, and I know that while I'm working towards it, it will be a while before I can get properly tested and diagnosed. My mother, who would scream if she ever saw me wearing noise cancelling headphones in public, is not going to help me get a diagnosis. My mother, who has thrown what can practically be considered temper tantrums over me stimming (literally just tapping my fingers against each other) is not going to help me get a diagnosis. The children of parents who aren't ready to give up their image of a perfect child and think autism can be wished away don't have the same access to diagnosis as the children of parents who are willing to work with them and contribute financially, and neither does any adult who has gotten through life alright but struggles financially because They Have A Disability!!!

In conclusion, don't shame people who diagnosed themselves. I absolutely think the end goal should always be to work toward a professional diagnosis, but that isn't always feasible for people, and we can't sit around slowly drowning in the meantime. If you are worried about self diagnosed people taking away resources: guess what, there are no resources!

Self-diagnosis shouldn't be quick. It comes after a long time spent diving through symptoms and diagnostic criteria. But it gives people without access to diagnosis the ability to nonetheless understand themselves better. For me, it means being able to say "I'm overstimulated, I'm going to find a quiet place" instead of sitting and suffering. It means being able to say "I'm going to sit on the floor instead of my desk, because that grounds me and stops me from spiralling". It means stimming when I'm overwhelmed, and stopping when I need to, all without shaming myself or thinking of myself as lesser for not being able to do things I was told I should be able to.

[piizunn]

ᓄᐦᑕᐃᐧᕀ ᐊᐢᑯᑖᐢᑯᐱᓱᐣ nohtawiy askotâskopison, My Father’s Cradleboard by Morgan Possberg Denne

The New Gallery, November 18 - December 22, 2023

“Cradleboards have been used for thousands of years by our ancestors to carry and love for our future generations. They have protected us, acted as an external womb, and given us a place as children to watch our parents' culture and learn from a safe distance. I’ve always wondered if the fact that neither my father, his father, or myself was ever put in a cradleboard may have had a long term impact on our development, personhood, and our coping mechanisms to the ways that colonialism, residential schools and the foster care system has affected my family.

Now as an adult I deeply wish I could rewind the clock and put myself, and my father before me, and his father before him in a cradleboard as a child. To softly sing songs to us, give us safety, and to give us a connection to our culture in a safe environment. Maybe this would fix things. As kids when we were supposed to be kept safe and playing in the woods we were instead being prepped for the meat factory - the eternal meat grinder of colonialism.

The western world teaches us to push aside this childhood imagining and innocence - “These things can’t be undone!”, but what if they could? In another world somebody took better care of us, in another time we learned to drum and sing and dance, in another place we were listened to by adults who had the capacity to love and care for us.

These hot chest and aching throat feelings, the times of biting back angry tears and saying “It’s fine” have to count for something….right?”

“Morgan Possberg Denne is Two-Spirit millennial scoop and foster care survivor; with settler, Cree, Metis, and Chippewa blood connections. They have grown up in treaty 7 territory, and have relatives in southern and northern Ontario. Morgan creates imaginative, illustrative objects which could be seen as pieces of possible narratives, different ways to connect with the past and potential futures through layers of abstraction with no right or wrong answer. What matters to them is not accurately recreating the past or to predict the future, but rather to capture an inner truth and a possible alternative reality of colonial experiences. In a sense, creating new culture from a series of “what-ifs” and new stories / lore. Their work has been recently shown at the Confederation Centre for the Arts and Gallery Gachet.”

(Photos belong to me and the description and artist bio are courtesy of The New Gallery’s website)

[IDs:

1. a large wall hanging made from fish leather,

2. a close up of the same piece. the artwork has faint text cut out of the green tea tanned fish that reads “hey it’s not your fault, you know that right?”

3. a photo of the space showing a video projected onto several fish skins, a table with a vest and a hat made of fish leather, and on the table are cartons made from rawhide.

4. a coatrack on which are a rawhide hunting ruffle and rawhide fishing net resembling a badminton racket

5. a shelf seen in the background of image 3 containing a astro-turf shirt, a hand gun and pocket knife made from rawhide and a fish leather circular clip with a piece of dark hair hanging off the shelf.]