#That she somehow ended up picking the worst habits from the worst two dudes she has ever met | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yoonpobs · 3 years

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bad boy good thing xiv.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 5, 690

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

hello!!!! we’re here at fourteen chapters omg ✨✨when i first started this series it was mostly self-indulgent and now there are people who actually enjoy reading it??🥺 it almost doesn’t seem real T.T

thank you so much for the love and support!!! just so I don't give too much spoilers for this chap - I apologise to my fellow geminis for the potential slander 🤣 this is more of a self-drag lmaooo

anyway, I hope you enjoy this chap!!!

“Ah. I’m getting allergies.” Yena sniffs, scrunching her nose.

You furrow your brows in concern, “Are you okay? Do you need any medicine?”

“It’s just the seasonal changes,” She brushes you off.

You nod in understanding, “I get it. My mom has horrible reactions towards pollen so—”

“I’m not allergic to flowers.” She blinks.

“Then what—?”

“It’s Gemini season. It’s like—literally the worst time of the year.” She blinks.

You gawk at her, taking a whole ten seconds to process her serious tone when she doesn’t waver under your scrutiny.

“I’m a Gemini,” You inform her slowly.

“I mean …” She shrugs all as you scowl at her, opting to throw the closest object you had, which was your favourite pen so you decide against it; simply shooting her the meanest glare you could possibly muster.

“Look, it’s not you,” She sighs, and you’re half-expecting her to finish with an it’s me to make you scoff, “It’s me.” And there you go. “I mean, it’s Gemini’s in general because they’re two-faced bitches who have the worst emotional attachment issues. Like they’re literally what the opposite of glue is. And they’re so over-analytical. How is it like psychoanalysing every person you meet only to hurt your own feelings and sulk about it?”

You blink.

“I mean it’s not you but if the shoe fits.” She says casually, plopping a grape into her mouth that you’re tempted to slap away.

“You’re so mean!” You pout indignantly.

She cackles, throwing her head back as you continue to sulk. You weren’t that bad. You just … you were risk-averse! You liked having the freedom to observe everyone and anyone and package them into tiny compartments in your head so you could understand them better. You weren’t … that Gemini.

“You’re so cute,” She coos pinching your cheeks. “No wonder Beef One and Beef Two like you so much.” She teases.

Your first reaction is to blush because you know who exactly she’s talking about, but you have more pressing matters, like—

“You have nicknames for them?” You ask, baffled.

“Hey, I wasn’t friends with many girls in high school. Don’t girls usually have nicknames for their crushes?” She says through a pout.

You stay expressionless as you try to gauge the level of seriousness you can extract from her tone.

You realise she’s dead serious.

“Yeah, but we’re in college,” You argue, scrunching your nose, “And sides’, it’s not like they’re strangers. We know them.”

She rolls her eyes, waving you off like you were the inconvenience here. Then she leans forward, her eyes twinkling as she takes a complete one-eighty that you try to adjust to.

“So … you Gemini hoe, what’s your plans?” She nudges you.

You raise a brow, “Did you just call me a—?”

“Plans, ___. Stay on track.” She scolds.

You sigh, still fond but you pretend to be annoyed. You really couldn’t get annoyed with Yena. After all, the more time you spend with her the more you realise how much life sucked before you had her in your life. You spent each moment learning more about her quirks and habits, her choice of words that made you giggle or laugh until you were crying.

And you realise that this is how she loves, a little rough but welcomed nonetheless.

“If you’re talking about my birthday then … not much. I’m probably stuck doing admin work for the college’s charity programme.” You shrug, stabbing a fork into your soiled salad.

Yena gapes at you, “Not much—excuse me? It’s your birthday! You’re turning twenty-five!”

You look at her dryly, “I’ve been twenty-five since the year—”

She groans, “That’s not the same! You’re like—officially twenty-five. You’re literally hitting the mark for a quarter-life crisis. Isn’t that something to celebrate?”

“Me going through an existential crisis at the end of my degree is not how I want to celebrate my birthday but okay,” You blink.

She rolls her eyes at your realism.

“That’s not the point. Point is, this is our first birthday together and I want it to be special.” She points out.

You snort, “What? Are we doubling my birthday as our monthsary or something?”

She shoves you with a brute force that has you snickering but she continues to pester you anyway.

“You’re so dumb. So smart, but so dumb,” She shakes her head, “You’re always studying or doing some form of work that requires the use of more than one brain cell. You deserve a break. Besides, you have two dudes to pick from on how you’d like to be wined and dined and—”

“Yena!” You whine.

“—it’ll be like an episode of the Bachelorette! But just with a super cool and smart best friend that’ll make the decision for you. It’s not your birthday. It’s ours.” She emphasises towards the end.

You stare at her for a long second, before the two of you are bursting into laughter at the absurdity of her statement.

It was nice, just to laugh about things without having your heart feel so heavy. Even if it was a mild distraction, it was still wholly pleasant to be able to just talk about mindless things that didn’t require much mental gymnastics to navigate the conversation with.

“What are the two of you laughing about?” Taehyung and Jimin arrive at impeccable timing, sliding into the booth with their own packaged food. It’s very college-student-esque, a cute paper (because no plastic) container filled with an array of assortments.

“None of your XY chromosomes business.” Yena retorts.

Jimin blinks, “You are literally so hostile.”

“Then don’t give me a reason to be.” She sticks her tongue out petulantly.

You laugh, nudging her with your shoulder, “Be nice.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes but manages to keep a civil smile on his face. Always the more rational one between the two.

“Anyway, Yena definitely isn’t going to answer me so, what’s up?” He turns to look at you.

You roll your eyes but it’s half-hearted, “She wants to celebrate my birthday like we’re on the Bachelorette.”

“Like you’re on the Bachelorette.” She corrects.

“Oh my God, our baby’s turning twenty-five!” Jimin coos at the reminder, pinching your cheeks as he coddles you. You scowl and weakly shove him away, even if you preen under the attention.

“I’m literally older than the both of you.” You huff.

Yena blinks, “There’s no way I’m the oldest person at this table.”

Taehyung furrows his brows, “Wait—how old are you?”

She sends him a scathing glare that has his arms raised up in defence.

“Jeez, okay. Don’t answer.”

“I’m going to answer because you told me not to.” She clips. “I’m twenty-seven.”

Jimin blinks, “No wonder you and Yoongi hyung are so alike.”

You almost miss it, but as Yena so eloquently pointed out, you were a sucker for psychoanalysing people (even if you didn’t want to admit it yet) that you notice the way she flushes ever so slightly as she scoffs.

“Him? How dare you compare me to that sorry excuse of a—!”

“Okay, everyone is beneath you. I’m sorry your highness.” Jimin rolls his eyes.

You make a note to ask her about it because you know for a fact that Yoongi ‘complains’ about Yena every hour he can. It’s almost as if he can’t go long enough without mentioning her.

You smile to yourself as you duck your head.

“Exactly,” She flips her hair over her shoulders before turning to face you. “Anyway, back to you—our baby.”

Taehyung nods, “Exactly, the baby.”

You scrunch your nose, “Don’t coddle me.”

He pats your head before cooing at you like he would to an actual baby, “But you’re just so cute. You’re too good for this shitty world. Too good for the likes of mere mortals like us.”

“Not me.” Yena blinks before gesturing to their bodies, “You.”

Jimin sticks his tongue out in retaliation as you sigh at their never-ending bickering.

Somehow … it felt right. You think it most of the times but you don’t know any other way to describe how it feels to be back with your friends, laughing, bickering and just appreciating their presence.

When you and Jungkook had your issues, it was like you made the conscious choice to avoid everyone and anyone as much as you could, and any interaction you had during that period was purely out of coincidences and not the intention. You remember actively avoiding Jimin and Taehyung because it felt too draining to pretend like you didn’t have a battle in your head. Even studying or spending time with Namjoon made you feel guilty, the thought of Jungkook lingering in your mind. Yena was there through it all, but even then you saw her as much as you did with any of your classmates you so happened to share a class with.

In fact, if it weren’t for Yena you’d probably have zero social interactions as a whole because she just knew. She somehow picked up on your internal conflicts but never outwardly shamed you or confronted you about it. All she did was be there for you, offering you her presence and you were grateful.

So, yeah. Things were better, but your heart was still at its core—confused. Your feelings for Jungkook didn’t disappear overnight and you knew that you were the one that asked for space.

You forgave him … you did, honestly. But there are things you can’t forget, and those are the things that you wished you could. The words he said in principle, was outright shitty. But the fact that it came from him only poked at every single one of your insecurities that you developed over the years.

You knew it wasn’t healthy to compare yourself to other women when they were living vastly different lives than you were, but it’s proven difficult when you’re forced to see these type of women every day, at college, in your community work or on the media.

Believing Jungkook’s apparent feelings for you was harder because, well. Jungkook was Jungkook. He wasn’t just another guy, and despite his shortcomings, he had more merits than he’d let on and you knew that people saw that. It was also the fact that Jungkook had a charm that drew all types of people in. He was soft-spoken but passionate, and people loved a quiet achiever.

You … knew about the women. Way before Jennie and way before the thing between the two of you happened. Jimin and Taehyung would always update you about the new fling or girl he had tied to his hip just as he was in his final year in high school. You had to force a smile every single time they’d snicker and joke about how your Jungkook suddenly became a man overnight.

And you noticed the trend with the women he liked. They were … captivating. Beautiful wasn’t even enough to describe them because they looked like they could carry the world on their shoulders and spark immense change with just the movement of their lips. They were confident and charismatic, outgoing and just the right amount of flirty. You were anything but.

It sucked, majorly, because you spent years agonising over the fact that you were already coined with the older sister title in the group because of the way you acted—just a little more uptight than the average woman your age. You were quiet but loud in the right company; you didn’t like crowds, socialising or mingling around with people you didn’t know and based on your observations it seemed like that was the only thing that Jungkook’s been doing ever since he made it to senior year in high school, and even in the first years of college.

You don’t resent him, you think. You couldn’t blame him because you weren’t honest either. You consented, to all of the kisses and touches even if he hadn’t officially had sex with you. You wanted to, but you were terrified. Not at the prospect of penetration but at the prospect of not being enough and the fact that Jungkook was the only person you wanted to have sex with while he had options that were far more attractive and experienced than you were.

That’s why you needed time because at least you could get your shit together even if it was an uphill battle.

“Earth to ____?” Taehyung waves a hand in front of your face with a concerned expression.

You blink, snapping out of your daze as you offer a meek smile and an apology.

“We just asked you if you wanted a small get together at Tae’s and I’s place for your birthday?” Jimin asks.

“Really?” You beam. That was exactly what you preferred.

“Yeah, we know you don’t like clubs and stuff. Just a small and intimate gathering with all your best buds.” He grins.

You nod your head, but Yena beats you to a response.

“By best buds you mean the three friends she has, which is us and the two meatheads duelling for her affection.” She snorts.

You flush, “Y-Yena!”

Taehyung snickers at your embarrassment.

“It doesn’t help that both of them are literally the biggest dudes on the football team. It’s literally like watching King Kong and Godzilla getting into a fight for world domination.”

Jimin throws his back in laughter as you fold your arms across your chest at post at the way your friends are practically crying in laughter at the image. Jimin was clutching onto Taehyung for his dear life because if he didn’t then he’d fall off the chair.

“Stop,” You whine, “you guys are being mean.”

“Oh my God, you’re literally the only person on this earth that would take two people fighting for your attention as an offence.” Taehyung groans.

“I-It’s not that!” You deny exasperatedly, “I-It’s just … awkward …”

Jimin sighs with a small smile, patting your head.

“If it’s any consolation I think it’s offensive that Jungkook thinks he even has the right to breathe in—”

“Jimin!”

“Wow. It really is like King Kong and Godzilla.” Jimin whistles lowly, eyeing the scene before him with amusement lingering in his eyes.

“Do you think they’re gonna start slamming their chests soon or …?” Taehyung trails off in a whisper, leaning into Jimin so that the two other men wouldn’t notice.

“I can literally hear you.” You say dryly.

Jimin offers you a plastic smile, “You’re meant to hear us, babe. How about you try to tame them like Jane did with Tarzan?”

Jimin nearly shrieks when you shove him so fiercely that he topples over into Taehyung’s grasp as the second part of the duo only catches him in the process.

You sigh, completely ignoring the way that Jimin’s muttering curses that were directed to you under his breath. Instead, you were transfixed on the scene before you—which specifically is Jungkook and Namjoon staring each other down through the mirror of the gym. You were lucky that it was just the five of you since Namjoon was able to use his captain privileges to book the gym because you had no idea how to explain the fact that two big-sized men were attempting to outdo each other in their circuit reps as if they were on a suicide mission.

“Listen, when I agreed to help you out with your sets I thought I was meant to help log it in for a report.” You exasperate, but the two men continue their manly lift-off as they huff and puff their exertion away.

“Trust me, you are helping. Being the motivation is more than—”

This time it’s Taehyung who faces your wrath as you thwack him upside the head.

From where Jungkook and Namjoon were, Jungkook can only deliver death stares into the direction of his captain who returns it tenfold. He wasn’t even sure why they were doing this but something a flicked definitely switched in Jungkook when Namjoon (purposefully) revealed that you were helping out with something. At the gym. Supposedly alone.

Jungkook’s primitive side came out because the next thing Namjoon knew was that Jungkook managed to drag himself, and Jimin and Taehyung as a diversion. He still feels his chest swell with pride when recalling the scowl on Namjoon’s face when he entered the gym, all fake smiles and a pep in his step.

“____, could you help me spot?” Namjoon breathes, sitting up from whatever the hell he was doing with the barbell. You weren’t fixated with gym language and you weren’t even sure why he was asking you when there was an entire Jimin and Taehyung right next to you.

“Uh, okay sure—“

“Noona,” Jungkook calls.

You freeze.

“Jungkook … I thought we established that you don’t need to call me that anymore.” You raise an eyebrow.

You miss the obvious glare that Namjoon shoots his bitchass friend, as well as the snorts that leave Jimin and Taehyung’s mouth.

“Pay attention to me,” Jungkook pouts. Like, actually pouts. You somehow flush because he seemed so much like the younger version of Jungkook who used to always coddle you for attention.

“Okay but after I help—”

“Yeah. After she helps me.” Namjoon interjects, and you nearly jump at the way he’s suddenly behind you, more so—pressed against your back with his hands on your hips as he moves you aside to get to another piece of equipment.

Your breath hitches because while you weren’t exactly invested in Namjoon in the romantic sense, he was undeniably attractive and … big. You could salivate in private.

“Oh my God, do you see that?” Taehyung hisses in a hushed whisper.

“Hyung is petty,” Jimin gawks.

“This is Namjoon we’re talking about. Didn’t he steal all the umbrellas from your dorm because you ratted him out to the librarian when he broke a bookshelf?” Taehyung recalls.

Jimin pauses to retract his mind to that moment.

“He’s so petty and I’m living for it. Look at Kook’s face,” He snickers, nudging Taehyung with his shoulder.

Jungkook only can clench his jaw in return because he knew that you wouldn’t be a fan of him reaching out to strangle the shit out of Namjoon. But the older boy seems fine, if not pleased with how Jungkook’s fuming in his own spot.

“Let me just …” You cock a thumb to Namjoon, before releasing a breath of your own and going to help him with whatever he needed in the first place.

“Jimin can help him. I have a more pressing problem.” He complains.

You stop in your tracks before turning around, raising an eyebrow at Jungkook who finally sits up, still staring at you like you held all the solutions in the world.

“Literally wait for your turn,” Namjoon scowls.

“My arm hurts,” Jungkook says, raising his arm to show you.

“I don’t … see anything?” You furrow your brows.

“Because my muscles hurt, Noona,” Jungkook emphasises with a flex of his bicep and you can feel yourself get hot in the way your eyes can’t stray away.

You’re momentarily distracted by the blatant display of muscle by Jungkook that you completely miss the way that Jimin and Taehyung are struggling to breathe because of how hard they’re stifling their laughter or the way that Namjoon is contemplating on throwing the nearest dumbbell into Jungkook’s direction.

You flush, “Okay, you know what? Wait here. Let me get the first aid kit.” You mumble, quickly scampering off to alleviate yourself from the situation.

The moment you leave the room, Namjoon takes two long strides until he reaches where Jungkook’s sat, before wrapping a hand around the arm that was supposedly hurt—and squeezes.

“Ow! What the fuck hyung?!” Jungkook shrieks.

“Don’t hyung me, you brat.” Namjoon seethes, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jungkook gapes, while Jimin and Taehyung watch in amusement.

“Me?! What’s wrong with you?” Jungkook retorts, equally as agitated, “Oh, _____, help spot me! Woe is me! Like she wouldn’t get crushed under you, you meathead!”

“Like you’re any better,” Namjoon snaps, “Oh, Noona, pay attention to me. My arm hurts. You might as well have asked her to change your fucking diapers at the rate you’re acting like a damn child.”

“You’re the one that started all of this!” Jungkook exasperates, “With all due respect hyung, I love you and you’re my captain but I really feel like smashing your head into the wall right now.”

“That’s it?” Namjoon scoffs, “Well I’ll do you one better and let you know that every time you breathe in my direction I feel like—”

“Oh my God will you two idiots shut the fuck up?” Taehyung interjects, snapping at the two boys who pause, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Even Jimin is surprised at Taehyung’s intervention, purely because he was the type that usually let shit slide or let other people put problematic individuals into place. He was the mediator, the diplomat—not usually the aggressor.

“Wha—”

“Another peep and I’m going to smother your body under the dumbbells and leave you here to rot and die.” Taehyung seethes, staring straight into Jungkook’s soul.

That shuts him up.

“Both of you are acting like goddamn children, and for what? To battle out your masculinity to see who gets ____’s attention first?” Taehyung exasperates.

Namjoon clears his throat, “We were just—”

“—acting like a bunch of barbarians who’s never seen civilisation?” Taehyung retorts dryly, “Yeah. Because that’s exactly what this looks like. The two of you are so petty and for what? You two are literally rubbing the last remaining brain cells you have with each other but nothing is coming out from it. Like—nothing. Do you think she’d give a shit which one of you can lift more reps? That means absolutely nothing! She’s already freaked the fuck out at the prospect of her childhood best friend being in love with her and now we have Big Tit Number One and Two battling it out like you’re in the Greek Olympics.”

Jungkook blinks, and Jimin is mildly impressed.

“So before she comes back and tends to Jungkook’s hurt muscle,” Taehyung sneers, eyes narrowing at a guilty-looking Jungkook, “Both of you better sort your shit out.”

Namjoon flushes, embarrassed at the prospect of being called out, all while Jungkook is avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Oh my God, do you have a crush on each other or something? Apologise!” Taehyung gestures towards the two boys who awkwardly blink at each other, feeling much like reprimanded children.

It’s Namjoon who breaks the silence first, clearly the more mature one in the situation.

“Look … Jungkook,” He sighs, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to … drag it out like this. I don’t mean it maliciously and you’re my friend and teammate, so I’d really hate if a girl got in the way.”

Jungkook nibbles on his lips, eyebrows still scrunched; and the irrational part of him tells him to ignore the apology. But with the way that Taehyung is glaring him down, with Jimin’s expectant gaze, he knows that he doesn’t have much of a choice.

“I’m sorry … too,” he winces at his own voice, “But just to let you know … I really …” He shuts his eyes, feeling his chest tighten when he tries to force the words out, “She isn’t just … a girl to me, hyung. I really, really like her. And—I know you like her too but … I fucked up and I really want to make things right and seeing you—”

Jungkook is flushing while he rambles on, fully aware that the rest of his friends are listening intently to him speaking his heart. But a hand rests itself on his shoulder, and when Jungkook opens his eyes he sees Namjoon offering him a gentle smile.

“I know,” He says, “I know I said I wouldn’t back off …” He trails off and Jungkook recalls the conversation he had with him in the very same gym just a few weeks back, “But I don’t think I can compete with a decade long love story.”

Jungkook scoffs, though his ears are flushed.

“It’s really not—”

Namjoon waves him off, clasping a tight hand onto his back that tells him it’s okay, and whatever that was going on would get better. And Jungkook feels marginally better and allows himself to let out a sigh of release.

“So are the two of you gonna kiss or what?” Jimin asks in the midst of the silence.

Namjoon glares at the boy, “Don’t make me give you an extra ten laps.”

He backs down immediately, raising his hands up in defence. And at that moment, you return, all smiles and with a pant as you raise the first aid kit up.

“Your arm?” You smile sweetly, and Jungkook can only offer a weak on in return.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Depends. Will I have to run from the government if I answer you honestly?” Yena ponders out loud.

You roll your eyes but shake your head anyway. The two of you were meant to be cooking dinner but you’ve surrendered yourself to Netflix and Yena’s witty live commentary on horrible films you were scrolling through an hour earlier. Though, your head wasn’t quite in it, to begin with; your thoughts drifting to other aspects, ones that you thought too hard for and didn’t necessarily know the answer to.

It was frustrating, the way that you wanted to have a solution for everything but overthought every single case that happens to pass by your mind.

“No one’s hunting anyone down, your anarchist,” You say, “This is a little … personal.”

You didn’t have any girl friends prior to Yena, and that was your first mistake. You weren’t the person that actively avoided having girl friends because you thought they were dramatic or overly emotional but purely because you never knew how to befriend women. It was weird—being a woman yet being muddled with your own sense of femininity that suppressed your ability to form meaningful friendships with your women peers.

Throughout most of your childhood and teenaged life, you only had Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook. While they were more than enough to keep your memories cheerful and filled with laughter, there were more personal things that you couldn’t quite approach them with. They had each other to confide in their ‘manly’ discussions, small talk that you’d often flush at—but you couldn’t ask them the same things you wanted to.

You knew, that on a fundamental level that your personal things were just … things. It wasn’t that deep, nor did it require a PhD in Gender Studies to fully understand the nuance of periods or apparent ‘girl’ problems; you just needed to listen. But you were timid, and you got embarrassed super easily—so that never boded well whenever you’d want to approach them with a question of your own.

But now, you had Yena—debatably the most open and understanding person you’ve met in your life; and you owed it to yourself, and her—to be honest, to live yourself vicariously in your girl best friends eyes—and ask:

“How do you have sex?”

Granted, there was definitely a smoother way of peeling off the bandaid, but you supposed if you were going to be discussing this one way or another, you’d go big or go home.

“I’m sorry,” She coughs, “What?”

You blink.

“Sorry, I guess I should’ve asked if you were a virgin first …” You mumble.

Yena stares at you with a stupefied expression as she gapes at you.

“Hey, repeat after me: candy, tree and cat.” She grabs you by your shoulders.

“I’m not cerebrally compromised, Yena,” you say dryly.

“Repeat,” She glares.

You huff, shoving her hand off your shoulder.

“Candy, tree and cat. There, happy?” You huff.

She eyes you weirdly as you sigh.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes!” You exasperate, “So like … how? Do you just? Penetrate?”

Yena blinks one more time, her eyes trailing to the ceiling as she asks for a higher being to give her strength before she returns her gaze onto your figure.

“Babe, that is literally the unsexiest way to approach sex.”

“Penetration?” You furrow your brows.

She scrunches her brows, “No.” She gestures to you, “That.”

You scowl.

“I don’t know how to approach sex! That’s why I’m asking you. I literally don’t know who else to approach. If I went to Jimin or Taehyung I’m pretty sure they’d just stare at me and cry. Namjoon is out of the picture because he’d likely approach sex textbook style and I don’t need that level of detail right now. I definitely can’t ask Jungkook because he’s the guy I wanna have sex with. So yeah. I’m here because you’re a woman and the only person I can have a full conversation with without losing my will to live.”

Yena gawks at you, jaw slack as you finish your ramble; ears flushed.

“… you …” She begins, wracking her brain for the words that seem to fail her, “… okay. You know what, the fact that you’re here and putting your big girl pants on and asking me this is a feat in itself so I’m going to just ignore the fact that you said you wanted to have sex with Jungkook.”

You flush, “I was word vomiting—”

“Ah,” She holds her hands up, levelling you with a knowing glare, “If you want honest, you be honest too.”

You slump in your seat, sighing as you nod your head defeatedly.

“Firstly, I’m not a virgin. I could never be a virgin.” Yena declares, “Granted, I’ve slept with three people and two of them were women. But the idiot I lost my virginity to was, unfortunately, of XY chromosomes so … I guess I can answer your questions.”

“I mean … I know how sex works but … approaching it …” You mutter.

“And sex isn’t this groundbreaking act that requires Einstein’s IQ to partake in. It’s both intimate and not, and that’s definitely a personal preference. You can know the semantics of how people have sex, for hets in this case, which is just the classic ol’ penetration method where the penis enters the—”

“Your point?” You exasperate.

“—okay, I got a little carried away. But really, sex isn’t … difficult. It’s scary, I’ll give you that. But you don’t go into your first time thinking you’ll be great at it. Hell, you won’t even like sex that much your first few times unless your partner is a sex demon or something.”

“I mean when Jungkook …” You shudder, “When he … I … you know, did things … it felt …” You fiddle with your fingers. Your ears were undoubtedly on fire, and you were so embarrassed saying these things out loud because it was just so awkward!

“Good? You know I’m not going to judge you for it,” she says pointedly, “That’s what friends are for, right?”

You flush, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment. You knew that Yena would never judge you for something as trivial and as unimportant as your sexual endeavours, but this was still a road you’ve yet to properly navigate yourself.

“I … came,” you wince at your breathy voice, “It felt good. And … he’s experienced, you know? I just don’t want to …”

Yena looks at you inquisitively.

“You don’t want to …?”

You sigh deeply, considering your next words with a soft murmur, “I don’t want to not live up to his expectations, you know?”

She frowns at you, “Jungkook’s made some mistakes but you said it yourself. He’s in love with you,” she says softly, “There’s no pressure to have sex with him just because it’s out in the open now, you know?”

You nibble on your lips.

“It’s … more than just that,” you tell her, “I told him I needed time, and really, I do. But it isn’t because I’m confused. I mean, kind of—but really it’s because I don’t want to walk into something and disappoint him … I’m just … scared.”

Yena holds your hand in hers while offering you a gentle smile.

“It’s valid that you’re scared. But there really isn’t anything that can come out of being scared right now. The two of you worked through an obstacle, and here you are creating another one that doesn’t quite exist yet. Trust me, when the time feels right, it does. And you’ll feel ready. Will you still be scared? Maybe. But it’ll feel like it’s meant to fit within your timeline.”

You nibble on your lips, “Is it bad that I’m overthinking this?” You wince.

Yena shrugs her shoulders, “Like everything else in your life?” She teases.

You whine, shoving at her shoulder playfully where all Yena does is snicker in response. You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting out of the conversation, even if it was vaguely about the ins and outs of sexual exploration. And she was right, you’ll always be afraid of something, whether it’ll benefit you or harm you because that’s what change does. It shifts your comfort zone into a space that may be unfamiliar but necessary.

You lean into Yena’s shoulder, and a wave of overwhelming emotion washes upon you when you look at her. You really didn’t know how you survived a time without Yena in your life. And as if she’s noticed your glassy gaze, she raises an eyebrow at you.

“What are you looking at?”

You grin at her, all teeth and gums on display as you hug onto her arm like a koala.

“I’m just really happy you’re in my life.” You sigh wistfully.

She pauses for one whole second before she snorts.

“Wow, talk about sex once and suddenly you’re in love with me?” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, “Tell Jeon and Kim that you’re mine now.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes.

“They’re not even competing in the same league as you are,” you assure her.

She smiles.

“So … does that mean I don’t need to get you a birthday gift?”

That earns a thwack on her shoulder.

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

Text

because I could not stop for death

because I could not stop for death / he kindly stopped for me / the carriage held but just ourselves / and immortality ~ Emily Dickinson

Danny Fenton was dying, properly this time.

Somehow, in the back of his head and in his worst nightmares, he knew it would end this way: bleeding on the floor of his parents’ lab where it had all began. He was so hot he felt like his skin was on fire, blood and ectoplasm were dripping all over him and his lungs and heart were working overtime to try in vain to keep him alive a moment longer. He’d imagined at the time that there would be more screaming but death, in the end, was turning out to be a quiet little affair. A lonely table set for one.

“Danny, Danny come on, you-you gotta slow down your breathing, just relax, for me, please,” Sam moaned, more than making up for his lack of noise. She was shaking and touching him all over, his chest, his face, his hair. Normally she jumped right into action but she had to know, deep down, that there was nothing she could do. All that was left was to watch her panic and cry, it wasn’t his favorite image.

“Vlad!” He heard Tucker scream cry into the phone, “please it’s Tucker, Danny’s dying I think. The Fentons had some new invention, something about his core, please we don’t know what to do!”

Ugh Vlad, he was probably going to be so happy Danny was on his way out. He wasn’t looking much forward to his last images being his archenemy gloating. Tucker hung up and reached down to grasp Danny’s hand so hard it hurt. “Don’t worry dude, Vlad’s coming. He knows so much about you half ghosts that you’ll be fixed up on no time.” Right, Danny was already dead. If calling Vlad, feeling like he did something, helped Tucker move on then he’d deal with it.

Danny tilted his head to the side where Sam’s fingernails were carding through his hair. It was getting harder to see with the blood pouring out of his eyes but he looked at her, and tried to memorize her face. He’d never been able to tell her how much he loved her, that any day spent with her was a blessing. Tucker too, his best bro and a part of his soul. His best friends in the whole wide world, through thick and thin. God, he was going to miss them.

“Glurk,” he said, trying to convey those feeling but the fluids in his mouth and airway made it impossible. “Blerh.”

“Shh shh shh,” Sam soothed, “it’s okay, don’t try to talk.”

“Daniel!” He heard Vlad’s voice shriek as he materialized in front of the portal. Sam and Tucker were violently pushed out the way. Danny wanted to be angry at his loved ones being taken away in his final moments but anger was for the living, he barely had the energy to breathe. This death was too long and too short all at once. He made eye contact with Vlad who all at once lost the frantic edge to his tone and and instead knelt on the floor. “Oh my dear boy. What did they do to you?”

“What is going on?” Sam demanded, shoving her way back in. Danny was glad, he could see again like this. “Why aren’t you doing something!”

“There’s nothing to be done,” Vlad said in a flat, monotone, he picked up one of Danny’s hands and patted it gently. “His core is dying, it’s like a ghost’s heart. It contains their very essence, it is from which everything they are comes from. If Jack and Maddie somehow disrupted it then there’s nothing anyone can do to save him.”

“But he’s human too,” Tucker defended, grabbing Danny’s other hand. His human warm skin burned but the contact felt so good, he twitched his fingers closer to his friend’s. “He-he doesn’t need a core, he’s already got a heart. So, so he doesn’t have powers, we can do normal again.”

“You-” Vlad hissed before taking a calming breath. “The accident that made Daniel like this irreparably altered him. His core was as much a part of keeping him alive as his other organs, without it, his body is shutting down.” Vlad turned down to look Danny in the eye and saw true, genuine grief in those hateful red eyes.

“I cannot imagine the agony you are going through, I’m so sorry. I’d say it will be over soon but,” a hitch that sounded almost like a sob if it was coming from anyone other than Vlad. “But you’ve hovered on the edge of death for years, son, and you’ve always been such a fighter. You have minutes at most but those minutes are an eternity when you’re suffering.”

Sam and Tucker’s sobbing blended together in the background, Vlad was saying something with a miserable, stunned expression. The swirling of the portal in the background seemed louder than anything, louder than his heart beat pounding and pounding as it ran it’s last race.

“Daniel, Danny,” he focused his eyes back on Vlad who had a stubborn, unhappy set to his brow. “Do you want me to make the pain stop? An ectoblast to your chest will end your life instantly.”

“Don’t you dare touch him,” Sam shrieked, coming back into view and looking like she was trying to fight Vlad off. “You do anything to him and I’ll kill you!” Tucker just sat and stared at him, like he too was trying memorize Danny’s face.

“It’s a mercy, Samantha or do you want his last moments on earth to be drowning on the blood in his lungs.”

“Sam, he has a point. I don’t- I don’t think we can fix this.”

“No! No we always fix things, I’ll do it myself if I have to!”

Danny’s vision was starting to go, more black than anything else. He closed his eyes and readied himself for the inevitable.

“Time Out,” Danny opened his eyes and found he was no longer in pain. He was standing up and apart from where he’d previously been lying. Sam had her hands in Vlad’s face and the older hybrid was snarling something at her. Tucker was midmotion trying to stand up, presumably to get Sam but the three of them were frozen in the moment. Danny turned and found Clockwork floating, looking very out of place in his parents lab. “Good evening, Danny.”

“You that short on cash that you work part time as a grim reaper?” Danny quipped out of habit. He looked down at his body and grimaced a bit, that wasn’t a pretty sight. No doubt traumatizing for Tucker and Sam. God how were they going to explain this to his parents? “Gonna ferry me across the River Styx? I don’t have two pennies but I think I have a bloodied $10 on me.”

“You’re core is dying and you have 17 seconds left in this world before all your organs give out and finish the process you began when you turned on your parent’s ghost portal,” Clockwork explained as he changed into child form.

“O-okay,” Danny said shakily, trying to be brave even when he was so, so scared. He was going out whether he wanted it or not but he refused to leave crying. “Nice of you to come say goodbye then but, uh but unless you have something to say then you should let me go back. No one knows better than me that you can’t outrun death. Thanks but I’m uh I’m ready.”

Clockwork stared at him for a bit, not sure how long, time was weird like this but he changed forms a few times. “You’re quite the remarkable young man, Danny Fenton.”

“Uh thanks,” Danny added, once more looking at his body which had, according to Clockwork, a 17 second expiration date. “What’s going to happen? Am I going to become a ghost? Does heaven or hell exist for someone like me?”

“I don’t get to decide what happens, I merely see options,” Clockwork stated easily, taking his time. “If you die naturally you’ll become ghost, a mere shadow of who you are now and one who would fade fairly quickly. You don’t have strong enough anger or regrets to tie you in the real world for long.” Not great but okay he supposed, hell for his friends and family though. “You could let Plasmius deliver his mercy kill, destroying what’s left of your ghost core and ensuring you do not come back.” Better, probably won’t help the Fruitloop’s instability but he can’t save everyone.

“That one comes with it’s own caveat but I’ll get to that in a moment,” Clockwork explained. “There is a third option where you get up off the floor and walk away.” Danny blinked then looked back at his body which certainly wasn’t walking anywhere but into a plush casket. Clockwork opened his hands and the Ghost King’s Crown materialized in his hands. “If you accept your claim to the King’s Cown, it will revitalize your core and your life would be saved.”

Danny blinked.

“By sealing Pariah Dark, you won by proxy and established a legitimate claim to the throne. The Zone has been without a king for millennia, most have forgotten the old rules. Those who remembered were not too keen on a half-ghost child assuming leadership and kept you in the dark. If Plasmius ends your life then your claim transfers over to him, which he is aware of. It had been his plan all along to trick you into defeating Pariah so he could steal the Crown from you at a later date, a much easier opponent.”

Danny’s mind was overloaded with information, he didn’t know what to focus on first. He stared at his 17 seconds from death face and tried to process it all. Crown? Claim? Vlad?

“Of course,” Clockwork tutted, “he didn’t plan on your dying and in such a gruesome fashion. If he kills you and takes your claim, he would spend his remaining years ruling the Ghost Zone in a just, controlled fashion for your memory. He destroys all the stable portals and keeps the ghost and human worlds separate.” Clockwork became and old man and titled his head, “it’s not a bad timeline, all things considered.”

“And if I take it?” Danny asked quietly.

“You’re compassionate, brave and motivated, you have all the makings of a revolutionary king,” Clockwork smiled. “The Zone would experience and unprecedented era of peace, there would be positive interactions between human and ghosts for the first time since life and death split into two. Your name would spoken with reverence for the rest of time.”

“But I don’t want to be king,” Danny frowned.

“I know, I��m sorry,” Clockwork stated. “Which is why I am giving you the choice. If you pass peacefully there will be no one to claim the Crown and life will continue on, ghost attacks and all. If Plasmius kills you, he becomes an effective but unmemorable king. If you take the Crown, you can get the chance to tell Sam and Tucker how much you love them.”

Danny rubbed at his face, he didn’t want to die but he’d be sealing away his entire future with a move like this. He didn’t even know if the Crown would let him go with death, maybe he’d die and be stuck as the Ghost King until his core finally gave out lord in who knows how long. Eternity was an awful long time to carry such a responsibility. He couldn’t bring himself to ask, too afraid of the answer.

“Is there ever a timeline I became an astronaut?” He asked instead. Clockwork hummed, seemingly unsurprised by Danny’s non-sequitur.

“Yes, in one of the few universes where you never walked into the portal. You never go into space what with human politics putting a halt on the programs but you work for NASA. You leave Amity Park at 17 and don’t come back save for your parents’ dual funeral.” He paused and Danny felt read down to his very bones, “from the moment you became half ghost you were always heading for this moment. The circumstances varied but it always came down to you and the Crown. Time is straining to continue, to see how this drama plays out. Will you accept it and all the joy and grief that comes with it?”

Danny looked over at Vlad, still mid-sneer but there was a scared desperation in his face. He and Vlad sniped at each other all the time but Danny didn’t really hate him and he didn’t think Vlad did either. Leaving him alone, plus making him be king was a heavy burden to put on his enemy.

Sam and Tuck probably wouldn’t recover from this, he’d put them through so much already but he just knew that they’d never be the same. Could he do that to them? Take the easy way out and leave them to suffer? Mom and Dad didn’t deserve to come home to a dead son, the truth would come out and they’d never forgive themselves. Jazz certainly wouldn’t, she was 2 states over at University but he could already hear her angry, grief-stricken screams.

Death, death was quiet. It was quiet and merciful and sad, but it was also easy. And Danny Fenton had never once taken the easy route. He reached out and took and the crown before shakily placing it on his head. He gasped, throwing his head back as his core swelled, taking up residence once more right next to his heart. Clockwork smiled, looking like the cat who ate the canary.

“The Crown of Fire, pardon me the Crown changes with each core, the Crown of Ice is now yours as is the Zone. Your reign begins now but so too does the rest of your life. People are waiting for you. Time in.” Danny slammed back into awareness on the floor of his parents’ lab, the floor he’d almost died on twice.

He sat up as cold radiated off his body, causing frost to crawl down his arms and along the floor. Sam, Tucker and Vlad, who’d been frozen up until now, jumped back to life. There was a new, familiar weight on his head that he didn’t dare acknowledge.

He squeezed his eyes shut and said a silent goodbye to a quiet, normal life. It wouldn’t be all bad, he could be happy like this but the Crown still felt like a iron manacle around his neck. But he got used to the ghost powers, he could get used to this too. Maybe one day he won’t look at the stars and say ‘what if?’

“Danny!” Sam shouted, throwing herself into his arms soon followed by Tucker. Their warm weight, their relieved sobs, their shaky breaths in his air, now this was something worth living for. He squeezed them tightly.

“But how dude, you were at death’s door!” Tucker asked, still not letting go.

“You accepted the Crown,” Vlad said evenly, “I wasn’t aware you even knew about your claim. Who told you?”

“You don’t know everything, Vlad,” Danny sighed, sitting himself upright. Ugh his shirt was covered in blood and ectoplasm. He needed to trash these clothes before his parents freaked. And find a way to hide the floating ice crown on his head.

“Even an old man can be surprised every now and again,” Vlad said wearily. He stood up to his full height before startling Danny by dipping down to one knee. “Then allow me to be the first to welcome my new king and wish him well.”

“I thought you wanted this,” Danny questioned.

“I do, I did,” Vlad said, unusually off balance. “To be quite honest, I’m not sure how to feel about it but, right now, I’m just immeasurably happy you’re alive, little badger. Now I best be off, enjoy your kingdom, my liege, I’ll be sure to come bother you some time soon.” Vlad disappeared in a swirl of pink leaving just him, Sam and Tucker still clinging to him.

Danny may have a kingdom, a job he didn’t want and his whole life decided in a spur of the moment choice, but he also had something very important. He squeezed his friends tightly.

“I love you guys, thank you for being my friends even though I have the worst ideas for activities. Dying? On a Sunday night? How lame is that?” Sam laughed, a bit hysterical but it was real and it made Danny feel weightless.

“Don’t do that again, buddy,” Tucker breathed into his shoulder. “So you gonna explain what just happened and why you’re apparently the Ghost King or something?”

“Yeah, yeah I will but let’s get changed first. Mom and Dad will be home soon and I think I’m going to need to have a conversation with them about my new job.”

#danny phantom #i was watching forever phantom and said 'i should kill danny' and then i fucking didn't #im obsessed with ghost king danny as end game #Im not sure this is the route I would want to go but I want him to end up woth tje crown #its bitter sweet bc its a *lifelong (possibly afterlife) commitment that he didnt get a choice in #he will be happy and he will be a good king but it wasnt his choice and he'll always regret it a little #i love clockwork but he's a bit shady and will always work in favor of the timeline #anyway happy fucking sunday bitches #have some homemade angst #also i typed this directly in tumblr and almost hit the power screen on my computer instead of backspace #god was trying to stop me from publishing but i overcame #Only did one quick edit Im too tired to care anymore #lmk if you want it on ao3

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

Text

To all Guys a Chat Loved Before

Okay, this is it. I’ve been working on this story for over a week. It’s seventy pages and twenty thousand words. I basically wrote you a short story. Enjoy it. Review.

I’m not fond of Rom-Coms and rarely if ever watch Romantic movies. But there are a few that i’ve liked. So THROUGH OUT THIS i’ve sprinkled some of my favorite lines from my favorite romantic movies over the years. Some also came from tv shows. See if you can point them out.

This is Adrien-centered fic. It’s also slash.

Don’t you wish that people came with warning labels?

Adrien did. He wished more than anything because his life would be so much easier if everyone could see each other’s warning labels.

Bustier: Terrible teacher. Needs to please everyone. Hates confrontation.

Lila: Waring massive Liar, manipulative shrew.

His father: Workaholic, possible sociopath. Might be allergic to hugs and any affection whatsoever.

Adrien: A little needy. Emotionally scarred. Touch starved. Famous. Trust issues. Lacks some basic social skills. Probably going to be in therapy for the rest of his life. Likes to run around in a skintight leather bodysuit.

You know? The basics.

Okay, maybe that’s too much. Too personal. Fine. Whatever.

But at the very least, if he could meet someone and just know, you know?

Know that this is the one.

This is it.

This one.

They’re the one that’s gonna break your heart.

Adrien’s life would be so much easier if he could at least get that one warning.

Maybe he’d run the other way. But maybe he wouldn’t. Adrien had a terrible habit of always making the stupid choice.

Still, it would be nice to know before he gets into deep.

Before his heart isn’t just broken…

It's shattered beyond repair.

Iron’s Kid: When did you realize you weren’t like other guys?

Chat Galore: I was twelve. You?

The first time Adrien realized he might not be like other guys his age came AFTER he put on a magic ring and ran around Paris as a superhero in black spandex. And yes, that statement alone makes him realize how insane he sounds.

But in his defense…

Okay, there was no defense. He didn’t need to defend himself. There was nothing wrong with him. He knew that. There was nothing wrong with…

Iron’s Kid: Fourteen. And it took me completely by surprise. Like a bite in the neck.

Adrien always really liked his penpal. It had been Chloe’s idea. Adrien signed up when he was thirteen, anonymously, through a program at school and was given an American penpal the same age as him. The schools vetted all participants in the program for authenticity. They’ve never told each other their real names, never seen so much as a picture of one another, but still, Iron’s kid became one of the few people who knew him best.

The blond knew a lot about Iron’s Kid too. He even had a list.

Iron’s kid:

A year older than Adrien.

Huge geek like Adrien.

He was a guy.

He loved Legos

Said he had brown hair and eyes.

He was bisexual.

He was really funny.

Really smart. Like Genius smart.

He was an intern at Stark Industries.

He was a huge iron man fan and adored Spiderman a bit as any New Yorker did.

He loved superheroes and memes (like a lot) and stayed up late a lot.

He made as many puns as Adrien did as Chat Noir.

. They got along really well. They texted constantly. And, Iron’s Kid slowly became one of Adrien’s dearest friends. After the first year of being Penpals, Adrien asked if Iron’s Kid wanted to meet. The answer was no. Adrien asked Iron’s Kid at least once a year if they could meet up (or skype or trade pictures); the answer was always No. It was only after Adrien revealed that he was a supermodel, that Iron’s Kid revealed he had a famous face too and just wanted to be treated normally.

That did stop Adrien from still asking once a year. Iron’s Kid was one of the few people, outside of being Chat Noir that Adrien could just be himself with.

But unlike Iron’s Kid…

Honestly, Adrien always kind of knew, ya know?

He was always as into Harry Styles as Chloe was. Maybe a bit more.

When he binged watched Stranger Things with Marinette; he noticed Finn Wolfhard as much as the bluenette did.

Maybe, he noticed Kim’s biceps just a bit too much.

So he started to suspect early on.

He didn’t know for sure until…

Luka.

And that’s the worst (and craziest) part because knew Luka. He had been sort of, kind of, friends with the guitarist for quite some time. He had never even thought of the blue-haired boy like that.

Until one day, Adrien, Marinette, and Luka were playing video games after school. They were just laughing and chilling out like they always do. It was perfectly ordinary.

Then out of nowhere, Adrien noticed just how blue Luka’s eyes were. Then that was it. Suddenly the blond couldn’t help but think how cool Luka was, how funny he was, how artistic. And Adrien was really self-conscious. When Luka was in the same room as him, Adrien was hyper-aware of everything his own body was doing and everything he was saying.

It was like he existed outside it for a few seconds and was just watching the chaos.

How does my hair look?

Why did I JUST say that? No, don’t say that THAT’s even worse.

What is wrong with you?

Don’t stand like that! Who stands like that?

Does it look weird?

Am I being weird?

He totally thinks I’m weird.

Iron’s Kid: How could you NOT have seen Princess Bride?!!!!!?!!

Chat Galore: It doesn’t look like not my type of movie

Iron’s Kid: But you’ve seen the Labyrinth???!!! WTF

Chat Galore: It was my mom’s favorite movie!!! You haven’t seen vampire diaries yet!!!

Iron’s Kid: That is BESIDES the point. Princess Bride is a classic!!!!

Chat Galore: Oh just shut up

Iron’s Kid; As you wish.

Adrien slowly became a blushing, stuttering mess.

And he didn’t know how but somehow this was how Marinette figured it out what was going on.

“…You have a crush on Luka,” Marinette said slowly and quietly, one day after school as they sat in Marinette’s living room as if the words were as hard for her to get out as they were for him to hear.

The two had gotten closer as friends as a result of the Lila situation at school worsening. Once most of the class made it clear how quickly they were willing to drop Marinette for a shiny golden ticket; the blond and bluenette quickly washed their hands of the situation. They decided to let their ex-friends sink or swim on their own.

Adrien did not need fair-weather friends. Marinette was tired of being everyone’s doormat. They decided to sit in the back together and wait for the fireworks. Surprisingly, not long after Nino joined them. The glasses-wearing boy hadn’t cared if Lila was lying or not (though Adrien and Marinette would provide him with enough evidence to convince him later), he just knew that Marinette was his childhood friend and Adrien was his best friend. Nino trusted them, and sure wasn’t going to abandon them.

That was over a year ago. Marinette, Nino, and Adrien were best friends. Then the bluenette and the blond found out they were really Ladybug and Chat Noir effectively ending their crushes on each other. (Though Marinette took a bit longer)

“No!” Adrien said quickly. “I mean, I can’t, I, uh. I used to love Ladybug, remember!”

Marinette shrugged, “So? I dated Kagami for like three months last year, and I’d still wouldn’t say no to seven minutes in heaven with Luka. Or longer,” She smirked. “I used to like you. I’m bisexual; lots of people are.” She then tilted her head. “It’s okay if you like boys.”

Adrien glanced down shyly. At that point, He hadn’t thought too much about his sexuality. He always figured he was straight. It was the standard some people would say. But… Did he? Did he like-like other guys like that?

…He definitely liked Luka like that. But was it just Luka? Maybe Luka was special. And dreamy. And nice to look at. And he made Adrien’s stomach feel a little weird when he was around, “…I have a crush on Luka.”

“Everyone does,” Marinette nodded. “It’s a fact of life. He gets Kagami to blush. Chloe says he not completely awful. Hell, even Nino said, and I quote, ‘if I ever I had to pick a dude.’” She said but then her eyes widened as she looked at Adrien. “Wait! I just realized have you ever had a crush on a girl besides Ladybug? I never heard you talk about any. This is the first crush besides Ladybug.”

Adrien blinked and then blinked again. “I went out with Kagami once,” He offered, and then gave Marinette a playful glare. “Before you stole her away from me.”

“It’s not stealing if she practically jumped into my arms,” Marinette defended with a laugh. “Don’t hate the playa!”

The blond snorted.

“I mean, what did you like about Ladybug?” Marinette asked. “Not me! Not now. But before you knew that I was Ladybug. What did you like about her?”

Adrien bit his lip as he thought, “She was always fun to be around. When I was with her I never had to worry, you know? I could do what I wanted, say what I wanted. There was no pressure or anything. I was just me… but more. And I liked that. It was easy being around her.”

Marinette nodded, “Ladybug used to be the only one you could be free around,” She said. “As Chat Noir, you never had to censor yourself for fear of what your father would do. It was freedom. A type of freedom you always wanted; to be wild and carefree. You got to do that whenever you are Chat Noir, and whenever you were Chat Noir, Ladybug was there. Did you ever… you might’ve… I think you,” She sighed. “…Adrien, I don’t think you ever loved Ladybug. I think you loved how you got to feel when she was around. You might have equated the two.”

It went quiet as Adrien thought about what his friend said. It helped that his crush had been long gone so he could view it without the bias he used to have. And yeah, the more he thought about it, the more he realized Marinette was right. Adrien had been more infatuated with the fun and freedom of being a superhero, being Chat Noir that he ever was with Ladybug.

He also comprehended that His crush had ended it rather instantly the second he found out who was behind the mask. Marinette was amazing; the girl of most guys’ dreams. Yet Adrien just didn’t see her like that. He didn’t have romantic feelings for her. It was then he realized that no matter who was behind the mask, what girl, Adrien wouldn’t have been happy. “She wasn’t real to me,” He admitted. “Not really. Ladybug was this unattainable dream. Anything was possible with her. I got to think up outlandish fantasies all the time of what our future could be and nothing was too extreme or impossible. The second she became real, the fantasy ended, and… I didn’t want her anymore; not like that.” He told Marinette. “Don’t get me wrong, I love you! You’re practically my sister. You’re the best! But… It is strange, I know.”

Marinette shook her head, “It’s not!” She would know better than most what it was like when the fantasy ended and you had faced reality. “We’re kids. Feelings are all haywire.”

“It’ll get easier.” He asked. “I mean it has to. Soon, right?”

“No!” Sabine, Marinette’s mom, called from the kitchen. “Try in about a decade. If you’re lucky!”

“Mama!” Marinette yelled as she face-palmed. “Private conversation.”

“In our very public family room,” Sabine sassed back. “Adrien, honey, besides Luka, have you ever thought about any boys like that?”

Marinette just sighed.

Adrien turned bright red. He had more or less been adopted by the Dupain-chengs, and he was still getting used to having an involved parent. “I, uh, like Kim’s arms.”

“Who doesn’t?” Marinette asked. “Drool-worthy.”

“Harry Styles,” Adrien offered. “I like his face.” The bluenette snorted, earning herself a face full of the pillow. “Oh, you are so helpful!” After that, they erupted into a pillow fight.

Chat Galore: I’m late

Iron’s Kid: For what?

Chat Galore: Reality.

Iron’s Kid: Oooh someone’s feeling deep today. What’s up?

Chat Galore: I’m

Adrien paused writing.

Iron’s Kid: You’re…

Iron’s kid: Chat? You still there?

Chat Galore: I’m gay.

Chat Galore: You’re the first person I’ve told.

Iron’s Kid: I’m honored. And proud of you man.

Chat Galore: TY!!

Iron’s Kid: So who made you realize you were finally into Luka?

Chat Galore: …I hate you. GO AWAY!

Iron’s Kid: As you wish.

It took another month, and a lot of introspection but Adrien finally came to terms with it, and while getting ice cream with his friends, he said, “So, yeah, I’m gay.”

“And the sky’s blue,” Chloe shrugged.

Marinette elbowed, “That’s not how we’re supposed to react.”

The blonde huffed, “What? We’re supposed to pretend to be surprised. I’ve known him since we were in diapers. I was there through OUR One Direction phase. We were just little kids but just because he blocked it out or whatever doesn’t mean I forgot he called dips on marrying Harry.”

“All good, dude,” Nino told Adrien. “Still my boy.” He told him. “Does this mean you’re finally gonna ask out Luka?”

“NINO!” Marinette groaned. “I didn’t tell them. I swear!”

“What?” Nino licked his ice cream. “It was obvious Sunshine digs Luka.”

Adrien’s froze. “…How obvious?” Dread slowly crept onto his face.

His friends quickly went to assure him.

“It’s barely noticeable!” Marinette said.

“Everyone wants Luka; he probably doesn’t even realize it at this point!” Went, Nino.

“It’s not as obvious as the crush Marinette had on you!”

“Chloe! Seriously?!”

“What!”

Chat Galore: My friends suck as much as you!

Iron’s kid: Ahh, they call you out on the Luka thing too?

Chat Galore: Fuck off

Iron’s Kid: lol

Iron’s Kid: As you wish.

Adrien just groaned, seriously wishing the earth would just swallow him up. It was official all of his friends were completely awful.

Not long after he came out to his father, Nathalie, and Gorilla. His father barely blinked twice and told him not to make a fool of himself. Nathalie scheduled when he’ll announce it officially on twitter. Gorilla at least hugged him.

Lila attempted to convince the class that Adrien was just confused and hiding his feelings for her. But even that was a bit too much to buy. Instead, the class shot the Italian girl pitying looks for being in love with an unreachable guy. Lila seethed with fury as what she thought was her ticket to fame and fortune going up in flame.

Pretty much everything stayed normal though. There were no big fireworks. Adrien never confessed to Luka about his crush; instead joined his dozens of other admirers in mooning from a distance.

Adrien was fine with that. He wasn’t looking for anything for his life to radically change. Or to completely lose his mind over some guy (though he did come close with Luka). In fact, he was rather happy if that never happened.

But since when does he ever get what he wants?

Iron’s Kid: If you could punch anyone in the face, who would it be?

Chat Galore: What did Flash do now?

Chat Galore: And the answer’s: Lila. But Marinette has dips. And then Chloe. Then Kagami for some reason. I’m also after Nino, which doesn’t seem fair.

Chat Galore: …There’s a line to punch Lila.

Iron’s Kid: lol.

Iron’s Kid: Flash embarrassed me in front of Liz. He got everyone at this party chanting the stupid nickname he gave me.

Chat Galore: What a jerk? I vote revenge!

Iron’s Kid: What happened to the high road?

Chat Galore: It went nowhere. Time to light someone’s car on fire now.

Chat Galore: OOOOHHH!!!! Get MJ to put a porn virus on his computer! Let it hit during that school project you guys got next week.

Iron’s Kid: You’re a cruel man. And you and MJ are never allowed meet!

Chat Galore: Lol

Iron’s Kid: I can’t do that. Revenge isn’t my thing. I wouldn’t even care if Liz wasn’t there.

Chat Galore: You really like her, huh?

Iron’s Kid: Yeah I do

Adrien grinned at his phone. Iron had fallen hard for Liz a while back, and it was the cutest thing when he gushed over her. Plus it gave the blond some relief to know that there was someone as bad as him when it came to romance.

Iron’s Kid: So my dads suck

Chat Galore: We should start a club!

Iron’s kid: Lol.

Chat Galore: Your dad or your pops?

Iron’s Kid: Both. They totally freaked out on me! They’re so overprotective it is insane.

Chat Galore: Been there. Am there.

Iron’s Kid: Me and dad totally got into it. He thinks I’m reckless and stupid. Like I don’t know what I’m doing. I just wish he’d trust me

Chat Galore: Stop treating you like you’re a little kid?

Iron’s Kid: Exactly!!!!! I can do this! I know I can! If he just trusts me!

Iron’s Kid: Instead I’m grounded.

Chat Galore: What are you going to do?

Iron’s Kid: Whatever I have to!

Chat Galore: just be safe, ok? I don’t know what’s going on. And I know you can’t tell me. But just Be. Careful. I’d miss you.

Iron’s Kid: I’d miss you too.

Chat Galore: Goodnight!!

Iron’s Kid: As you wish.

It was Christmas. Adrien was staying with Marinette’s family while his father was away on business and avoiding all things happiness. Marinette told him that her Uncle was coming. Her dad’s great uncle from New York. He broke up with his boyfriend not too long ago and wanted to get out and see more of the world.

Adrien had expectations of what Marinette’s great uncle would look like – like any Uncle. Old, kind of fat, who made way to many dad jokes, and smelled like mothballs. And he definitely wore tacky clothes.

The guy who walked into the Dupain-Cheng home, following a laughing Tom Dupain, was NOT that guy!!

First of all, he was young; like two or three years older than Adrien and Marinette. He wore was pale with dark eyes and hair. He was dressed in all black and wore an old black leather bomber jacket. He was unnaturally handsome.

“Who is that?” Adrien hissed.

“My uncle,” Marinette said. “I told you he was coming.”

“How is that your great Uncle?”

Marinette shrugged, “Magic. Demigod. Prince of the Underworld. What can you do?” She said. “His name’s Nico.”

Adrien’s life was already so bizarre he didn’t even question the demigod part. All he could see what Nico. His mind turned to mush. “Boing!” He pointed.

“That’s my Uncle, Adrien,” Mariette reminded him

“Sweet! I would be your Aunt,” Adrien said. “Uncle. I don’t care. I’ll be whatever he wants me to be.”

Marinette laughed and got off the couch to greet the newcomer, “Uncle Nico!”

“Marinette!” Nico smiled as he hugged his niece. “I told you to call me Nico.”

“Uncle is a bit weird,” Marinette nodded in agreement as she let go.

As soon Nico let go, he found his arms full of again but this time by a blond, “Uncle Nico.”

“Adrien, right,” Nico said as he hugged the smaller boy, “I’m not your Uncle.”

“Even better!”

Marinette snorted and pulled her friend away.

Nico looked them up and down. “Aww, it’s good you two are still so close. I still got that picture your dad sent me of you two in Halloween costumes; Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.” He said. “Adorable. You two must have been, what eleven?” He shrugged and smiled at Adrien. “It’s been a while. You grew up gorgeous.” And then walked off to say hello to Sabine.

Adrien turned bright red and a big grin spread across his face.

Marinette crossed her arms, and gave him a serious look, “You are not going to be my Aunt.”

“I can’t hear you!” Adrien sang. “Buh dah Bu da da Da!”

“He’s almost eighteen; physically and mentally anyway!” Marinette said. “We’re fifteen.”

“Almost sixteen,” Adrien snapped quickly. “Which is practically seventeen. Which is a skip away from eighteen. Two plus Two, you know?”

Marinette rolled her eyes, “I know Two plus two equals four. But with your logic, two plus two is three with a wig on.”

He hissed at her.

Chat Galore: I think I found my Liz

Iron’s Kid: Someone Completely unattainable, and probably a bad idea?

Chat Galore: MJ or Ned?

Iron’s Kid: …

Chat Galore: Seriously? Give Iron back his phone!

Iron’s Kid:

Chat Galore: WAIT! What do you mean about Liz? What’s going on? Why is she a bad idea?

He would get a response an hour later. It was just after dark.

Iron’s Kid: Sorry! MJ took my phone!

Chat Galore: NP. What’s this about Liz?

Iron’s Kid: A good friend will ignore whatever MJ told you!

Chat Galore: A best friend’s gonna get answers out of you!

Adrien’s phone remained silent as he waited for Iron’s reply.

Iron’s Kid: ‘sigh’ Liz’s dad a supervillain. He tried to kill me.

Chat Galore: Shit. I’m sorry. Are you okay?

Iron’s Kid: It sucks. Liz’s dad in prison. She had to move.

Chat Galore: that blows

Iron’s Kid: Yep

Then Adrien did something daring; something he thought about doing before but just stops short of being brave enough.

He called Iron’s kid. It rang a few times before finally answering?

“Hello?”

“Iron’s kid?” Adrien whispered.

“Chat Galore?” Was said. “You called?”

“I thought you might need someone to talk to,” Adrien said. “Really talk to. It is fine if you don’t want to. I just thought…”

“No!” Was quickly said. “This is great. I mean, yeah. I’m cool with this if you are.”

They ended up talking to each other for hours like they always did. But this time it went on even longer; to the point where Adrien was genuinely surprised to see the sun starting to rise.

It was the first Adrien began to suspect he might be falling a little bit in love with Iron’s Kid.

It didn’t end there. As the weeks went on Iron Kid and Chat Galore kept texting and talking. Iron Kid was going through a hard time and Adrien just wanted to be there for him.

Iron’s Kid: It’s never been easy being me. I love my parents. But normal doesn’t exactly coincide with our last name

Chat Galore: It is like no one can look past it, right? They don’t see you, they see your name. It’s all they care about.

Iron’s kid: Exactly!!!!! Who I am doesn’t matter. Its who my dad is, who my pop’s is. Hell sometimes who my grandfather was, and he died way before I was even born. It’s not fair!

Chat Galore: And you never know if anyone likes you for you. Or if they just want something from you. Or from your dad. You just want people to see YOU for who you are!

Iron’s Kid: Makes it really hard to trust people. My parents always did their best to give me a normal life but

Iron’s Kid: it’s whatever I guess.

Chat Galore: It’s not whatever. And its okay to feel like this.

Iron’s Kid: It’s sometimes I feel a little lost. Or maybe just…

Iron’s Kid: I mean, I can be surrounded by a sea of people and still feel all alone. Like no one really knows me or sees me. Then I think of you. I think of talking to you. And I don’t feel so alone anymore.

Chat Galore: I see you.

Iron’s Kid: I see you too.

Then once more Adrien asked Iron’s Kid if he wanted to meet, even though he knew he’d be turned down. That was fine. Adrien would wait.

If Marinette thought it was over when the holidays ended, she was dead wrong. Nico got an apartment to stay in Paris and to spend time with his family.

And Adrien got used to his brain going all gooey when Nico was around. He always said goofy things; things that made him wish he’d never learned to speak in the first place. He read books that Nico casually mentioned just so they’d have something to talk about. He did ridiculous things try to get the older guy’s attention. And whenever, Nico asked the gang if anyone wanted to hang out, Adrien would be the first to shoot up and practically yell yes.

And all Adrien would get from Nico would be a placating smirk; the same type Nino would give his younger brothers’ when they did something outlandish to impress him.

The weird thing was when Adrien was going all googly-eyes at Nico, they got along really, really well. They both loved art and classic noir films like Gun For hire and Laura. The two once spent an entire afternoon in the museum just talking about the pieces, ignoring the whines of Marinette and Nino who got dragged along.

Still no matter what Adrien did Nico never took the hint to ask Adrien out. Or even hint that he was open to Adrien possibly asking him out.

His friends got used to Adrien sighing wistfully.

“Gods’ he so handsome, it makes my face hurt,” Adrien whined.

Marinette giggled, “You’re young, you’re dumb.”

“Just so we’re clear,” Chloe pointed a fork at him that still had a bit of salad on it, “That those are not necessarily correlated. You’re just an idiot.”

Nino leaned forward, “Bro, just ask him out!” He said with his mouth half full of pizza.

“I can’t do that!”

“Why not?” Marinette, Chloe, and Nino asked/yelled at him.

“What if he says no?” Adrien asked, because duh, why else wouldn’t he have asked Nico out already.

Chloe glared at him, “Then you look in the mirror and remind yourself that you’re the second hottest dude, around our age, in Paris?”

“Ahh, Luka’s first,” Marinette put in.

Nino raised his hand, “Just so we’re clear, I’m at least in the top ten, yeah?” Silence. “Guys? Top fifteen?” Nothing. “Top twenty?”

“Eehh,” Chloe offered as she flipped her hand side to side rapidly.

Nino grinned, “I’ll take it!”

It all came to a head during the Dupain-Cheng family game. Marinette invited Chloe, Nino, and Adrien, who had become Tom and Sabine’s additional adopted children, when Tom walked in, with Nico trailing behind him. “Family game night to the max!” Tom cheered.

Nico chuckled and gave everyone their hellos.

Marinette holding a hat on her lap, “Time to pick the games tonight: Mom, Chloe, and Nico’s turn to draw from the hat.

Sabine drew Uno.

Chloe drew Pictionary.

Nico drew dungeons and dragons which caused everyone in the room to groaned, “What?”

“That game always takes forever,” Nino whined.

Marinette flopped on the couch dramatically, “Mom’s always the dungeon master and she never lets us win. Dad always dies before anything good starts.”

“We always get frustrated,” Chloe added with an eye-roll. “And snap and try to kill each other!”

“In the game?” Nico asked.

Nino glared at his friends, “Not. Always. Marinette!” He called her out, and she had the decency to blush. “Some people walk with scars.”

“Mental and emotional ones,” Adrien winced. “Marinette.”

Chloe caught Nico’s confused look, and explained, “Marinette’s a bit competitive.”

“A bit!” Everyone else in the room said.

“Let’s just play!” Marinette gave them a playful glare.

Uno was fast. Marinette won, of course.

Pictionary resulted in tears. (Sabine was just as competitive as her daughter, and Tom was a bit sensitive.)

The Dungeons and Dragons came took hours. Tom died right away and was content to watch the show. The kids turned on each other by the second hour, and it took Nico’s taking leadership and forcing them all to work together to achieve victory, for the suffering to stop.

By the end, nearly everyone in the room was dead asleep, their characters long since dead, apart from Marinette, Sabine, Adrien, and Nico. Until the die was rolled for the final time and Marinette raised her tired arms in victory, “Finally. Six hours, friends came together on a harrowing quest; the longest game of my life. And we finally, finally won!”

Seconds after she was cuddled against her mother, both having fallen asleep.

Adrien gave them a sleepy smile from where he sat on the floor before every cell in his body suddenly felt like it was hit by lightning when he caught Nico’s dark eyes staring at him. It was then that Adrien realized that, with the others all asleep, this was the first time Nico and he were ever technically alone together.

Be cool, he thought. Just be cool, damn you.

It was all for naught as Nico got up off the couch and went to sit next to Adrien, who let out a small happy squeak.

“Let’s talk,” Nico told Adrien, who fought to stop his entire body from shaking. “We’re sort of friends, right?”

Adrien winced a little but nodded eagerly, “Yep, friends, totally. I’m happy being friends. Yeah, friendship!” He waved his fist around in a small cheer and died a little inside as soon as he did it.

Why am I such a loser, he asked himself.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yes, sure,” Adrien said. “Anything. Whatever you want. You can ask me anything too. I’ll probably say yes. I’ll defiantly say yes. Yes!”

Nico just gave him a small smile, “When I was just about your age, maybe a bit younger, I had a crush on this older guy Percy. I was ten when I met him. He was fourteen, almost fifteen. In my eyes, he was all my dreams come to life; a real-life Greek demi-god hero. He fought monsters, saved lives. I had the biggest crush on him instantly,” He told Adrien. “Not that I knew it then. I was too young. I was from a completely different time where things like a man liking a man just were okay, or… Or Legal. I didn’t handle it well. Even worse after my sister died and wrongly placed at least part of the blame of unfairly on him. It took me a long time to realize I never hated him, I hated myself. I only stopped hating myself when I realized and accepted I was gay. And a little bit in love with Percy.”

Adrien had no idea where this was going but he listened intensely. He always enjoyed listening to Nico whenever he told tales about his life as a demigod.

“Still I ended up doing a lot of stupid things,” Nico said. “Just to get his attention, to help him; to get him to fall for me back. A lot of stupid things.” He chuckled. “When I found out he was Bi, I thought I had a chance. But I didn’t. I never would’ve. Percy just saw me as a brother. I was too young for him. Way too young. There was no way Percy could’ve ever seen me like that. I accepted that. I moved on. I got over him. I even admitted to him about my crush; after telling him that he wasn’t my type. Asshole fell down laughing.”

Adrien laughed a bit.

“We’re still friends,” Nico added. “Great friends actually. And I’m glad. Do you know why I’m telling you this?”

The blond frowned and suddenly found the game board very interesting. Because, yes he did know why Nico was telling him this.

“You know I’m too told for you, right?” Nico asked quietly as to not wake up the others.

“Yeah,” Adrien nodded slowly, his throat felt a little dry, and his eyes stung. “I know. I kind of always knew.” He glanced at the Dungeons and Dragons, and a strange sense of hope-filled him. The blond shot the older dark-haired boy a smirk, “But I’m playing the long game.”

Adrien tried to be hopeful about it. Or least pretend to but…

Chat Galore: I just got my heartbroken.

Iron’s Kid: That Douchebag. I knew that weird death kid was no good!

Chat Galore: He’s not that bad. He said I’m too young for him. I get he’s trying to be a good guy but…

Iron’s Kid: It still hurts.

Chat Galore: Yep

Iron’s Kid: I get that. How about we watch Star Wars and make fun of Kylo Ren, that’ll make you feel better!

Chat Galore: I’ve seen less teen angst in my high school. The dude has problems!

And that’s what they did. They texted each other while watching Star Wars: The Force Awakens; sending each other stupid memes and jokes. And Adrien felt a lot better by the end it of it.

Chat Galore: Thanks for this btw. I think I really need this.

Iron’s Kid: No Problem

Iron’s Kid: And for what it’s worth, I’d never turn you down.

Adrien stared at that message for an hour, mentally screaming. Because… What. The. Hell.

Chat Galore: Oh be quiet! Lol

Iron’s Kid: As you wish.

The next day, Adrien sent Iron’s Kid another request to meet. The answer was a simple: Not Yet. That was Fine. Adrien would wait.`

“You are not playing the long game, Adrien Agreste,” Chloe glared at him. “Do you hear me? I will not take this into my twenties.”

They had talked Adrien into ditching one of his many lessons and were hanging out downtown. Eating ice cream.

“But!”

“No!”

“I agree with her man,” Nino said, and Adrien gave him big green puppy dog eyes. “You can spend your life swooning over some guy. There’s other fish in the sea.”

“I don’t want fish,” Adrien complained. “I just someone to ride the Ferris Wheel with me!”

“Ferris Wheel?” Nino asked confused.

“Gay culture,” Chloe explained.

Marinette nodded, “We just mean that… You need to Get some more life skills. Learn how to talk to guys. Get cool!”

“I’m cool!” Adrien defended and was met with multiple snorts. “I am. I got my dad to let me have more freedom. I paint. I went to comic con last year. I ride the metro now. And I can talk guys. I’ve successfully learned how to be cool.”

Chloe smirked, “Okay, let's see how you react when you see him,” She looked over his shoulder. “Guy’s been checking you out since we got here.”

“I’m cool,” Adrien said as he casually glanced over his shoulder and saw just who was checking him out, he let out a series of nervous chuckles. And couldn’t stop.

The guy looked about his age, with dark hair and blue eyes, a jawline that was similar to ones Adrien’s had seen on Greek statues; and he had muscles, so many muscles. He sat on a park bench and was writing or sketching in a red notebook.

Nino shook his head, “Yeah you still need some lessons in cool.”

“Lesson one: go talk to him,” Chloe demanded.

Adrien’s eyes went wide, and he let out a squeak. “Nope! Can’t do it. Won’t do it!”

His friends shared a look, and Adrien suddenly fears for his life. He found himself all but pushed/carried over to the guy on the park bench. He struggled a bit. Suddenly when they got close enough, Adrien was pushed (By gleeful and vindictive looking Chloe, his official witch of an ex-best friend), right into park bench guy, who caught him at the last second. And Adrien found himself sitting in the lap of a virtual stranger.

“Hi?” Adrien offered weakly. “Me and my friends were just talking about you.”

The guy gave him a big smile, “I know,” He said. “I figured. I’m Jon.” He said with a southern American accent. “Jon Kent. And you can talk about me any time you want.”

“Adrien,” The blond laughed. “Adrien Agreste.”

“I like your laugh, Adrien.”

“I like your smile, Jon.”

Then Adrien’s phone started ringing. It was Nathalie and Adrien had to rush home. Mourning his chances of ever seeing Jon again. He was probably a tourist who’d be gone the next day, the blond figured.

Chat Galore: I have the worst luck with guys!

Iron’s Kid: I don’t know. I think you have better luck than you think.

Chat Galore: Lol. What’s up with you lately.

Iron’s Kid: Flash finally left me alone. All it took was a school field trip to my job. Suddenly I’m not a liar anymore!

Chat Galore: Oh I would’ve killed to his face, lol.

Iron’s Kid: It was basically the crying emoji.

Iron’s Kid: Oh yeah, I met this guy named Johnny; totally gorgeous, rides a motorcycle, and my dads’ hate him

Chat Galore: Last ones’s the best part, right?

Iron’s Kid: YES!!

The next morning Adrien and his friends were happily sitting in the back of the class. The other kids in the class ignored them as usual. Even Lila more or less pretended they didn’t exist. (Though she had been reluctant to let Adrien go and had made several attempts to get him under her thumb. Until Adrien got his dad to fire her under threat of dying his hair neon green, and wearing plaid, the one pattern his father hated above all others.)

They had entered a cold war with her. As long as she stopped trying to make their lives hell, they’d stop exposing trying to expose her.

Bustier was once again proving she had no control over her classroom as she struggled to teach a simple history lesson about the French Revolution. It didn’t make a lick of sense and Bustier tried way to hard to get the kids to relate on a personal level.

“History shows that bad things happen when you don’t know who you are,” Bustier said just as the classroom door opened and in walked two boys and a girl.

Adrien’s eyes went wide, and leaned over to Chloe, “Park bench guy!” He whispered.

“Foreign exchange students,” One of the boys said. He had dark hair, green eyes, olive skin, and a thoroughly unimpressed look on his handsome face. He wore a black turtle neck and slacks. “Damian Wayne, Gotham.”

“Lian Nguyen-Harper-Queen,” Said the girl. She had Auburn hair and gray eyes. Lian wore a pink headband, a pink cardigan over a white top and blue shorts.

“Hi I’m Jon Kent,” He said. Jon wore a red plaid shirt over a simple t-shirt and blue jeans. “I split my time between the Farm in Smallville and Metropolis.” He looked at the back of the classroom straight at Adrien. “And I’m happy to be here.”

Bustier nodded, “Welcome. Always happy to get new students! Let's find you some seats…” She looked around the room.

“OH! Damian can sit with me!” Lila waved her hand. “I’ll be happy to show him around.”

“Declined,” Damian simply said. “We’ll sit in the back.”

Alya leaned forward, “But Lila’s goes to Gotham and Metropolis all the time!” She said and didn’t notice the way Lila paled. She seemed to have forgotten Damian Wayne was apart of her many, many lies. “Damian, you showed her around last time she was there. You guys became such a good friend. She just wants to return the favor.”

Damian scoffed, “I’ve never seen this girl before in my life.”

Marinette smirked at Adrien, “You’re going to need to move. I have a new best friend.”

“Mean,” Adrien said. “But understandable. Still not moving.”

Jon and Damian sat in empty seats in front of Adrien and Marinette.

Jon turned around in his seat, “Hi.”

Adrien smiled shyly, “Hi.”

Then they just stared at each other.

Chloe let out a long-suffering sigh, “Oh this gonna be exhausting.”

Iron’s Kid: Best day EVER!!!

Chat Galore: SAME! What happened?

Iron’s Kid: Johnny asked me out!

Chat Galore: AWESOME!!!

Chat Galore: Park Bench Guy is in my class NOW!!!

Iron’s Kid: ‘High Five’ Maybe fate DOESN’T hate us.

Chat Galore: …

Chat Galore: …I swear to the Gods if you jinxed us

The two guys in class quickly joined the Adrien’s friends’ group. They blended in seamlessly like they were always there as the weeks went on. Before anyone knew it, they were pretty much attached to hips. Even going as far as joining family game night.

Through them; Damian, Lian, and Jon were able to get all the information they needed to survive Paris. The three had heard whispers of Hawkmoth but had been a little shocked when the Akuma alert went off and everyone had to duck for cover. After the third or fourth time, the new kids got used to it and easily swallowed the excuses Marinette, Adrien, Chloe, and Nino made about having to run off and go home during alerts.

Around the same time as the fourth akuma of the new semester hit, three new heroes arrived in Paris.

Well, new wouldn’t necessarily be the right word. They weren’t new heroes, they were just new to Paris.

Robin, Superboy, and Arrowette. They assisted in fighting back akuma that turned people into candy; a toddler whose mother refused to buy him sweets. Afterward, they explained that they would be in the city for quite some time, and would assist when they are able.

They didn’t reveal why they were there though. All Robin said was, “Justice League business.” And the Parisian heroes decided to leave it at that after offering to help if needed.

Paris went nuts over the arrival of the new heroes.

Alya cried in class when she found out Ladybug gave Aurore the exclusive interview about what was going on. Ladybug also publically endorsed Bugout, Aurore’s website, as the only reliable main source for credible information on the Parisian heroes. She didn’t say a word about Ladyblog, which was pretty much all anyone needed to know what they had already expected.

Ladybug hadn’t given an exclusive on the Ladybug blog in almost two years but now it was official…

The Ladyblog was out. Alya was out.

Time went on. The kids grew closer as friends. Jon and Adrien got closer as… Well, Adrien didn’t know.

He did know that his dad despised Jon because of time he picked Adrien up wearing a green plaid shirt but Gabriel wouldn’t admit it. Jon was the son of famous reporters Lois Lane and Clark Kent, godson to Lex Luther. And Gabriel Agreste was anything but stupid.

“I miss my family,” Jon told Adrien one day while they were studying in the library. “All the time. But I guess also miss the pets I have.”

“I always wanted a dog,” Adrien said.

“In Smallville, I have twelve chickens,” Jon said. “Three horses, four pigs, two cows, and a dog.”

The blond nodded, “You win. Tell me about them.”

And Jon did. He told all about his life in Smallville and metropolis. And Adrien told him what it was like growing up in Paris and being a supermodel.

Adrien grinned, “I want to be a lawyer when I get older,” he told Jon. “I want to fight for people who can’t fight for themselves. Like I read about this law firm called Nelson and Murdock who take all these pro bono cases to help people who usually have no chance of winning against bigger, bad-er, and richer people. It gets really dangerous for them but they just keep helping. Because it’s the right thing to do. I want to do that too!”

“I think when I grow up…” Jon said slowly. “I want to be like my mom. She goes above and beyond to get her story; to find out what’s really going on in the world and reports it honestly. I want to do that too. I want to be an investigative journalist. I want to hunt down the truth. Because people deserve the truth, even if they don’t like it. I know the truth can be scary sometimes, and a bit sad. But They deserve to hear it. But I’ve probably said too much.” He laughed.

“No,” Adrien shook his head, and smiled, “Tell me more.”

Still the more their friendship and bonds of trust grew, the more Lila became frustrated. As far as she was concerned things just weren’t going her way. First, she lost her future as the world-famous fashion model Lila Rossi/Mrs. Adrien Agreste. Then Damian Waynes comes to town and won’t even look twice at her; too busy trailing after Miss Goody two-shoes. Then she finds out that Jon Kent is the son of Lois Lane and Clark Kent, godson of Lex Luther, only AFTER she privately threatened to make his life hell for siding with Marinette. She didn’t bother to try to get close to Lian Queen, granddaughter of Oliver Queen, the girl had been glaring at her since the second she heard Lila tell her first lie.

So instead of The Italian girl, once again, tried to sow dissension in the class, tried to force Damian to sit next to her; loudly bragged about her trips and famous people she knew to get attention. Damian ignored her. Then she tried making Marinette look bad again; lied about how the bluenette was bullying her. It didn’t work. Damian was quick to point out inconsistencies in her tales.

That didn’t stop the class from believing them.

“Morons,” Damian called them one day after school.

“They’re not that bad,” Marinette tried.

“They kinda are, dudette,” Nino said. “I really expected Alya to catch on by now. But it’s like she doesn’t want to.”

Chloe scoffed, “Of course she doesn’t!” The blond sneered. “She betrayed her best friend, ditched her best friend, broke up with her boyfriend, pretty much led the charge in exiling us, spread Lila’s lies on her blog which included Lies about Ladybug. It’s not just admitting she was wrong.”

“It’s having to deal with consequences,” Lian agreed. “That Alya got herself into this mess. If Marinette and all us aren’t the bad guys in this, that means she is. That’s a hard pill to swallow.”

Jon shook his head, “I don’t understand why Lila lies so much,” he said. “Dad’s always told me honesty is the best policy.”

“You’re a long way from the farm, boy scout,” Damian tsk’d.

“Damian,” Marinette sighed and grabbed the boy’s hand and pulled him away.

Adrien snickered, “Those two are so into each other, it’s not even funny!”

“I know,” Jon laughed in agreement. “I’ve never seen Damian be so nice to anyone before. I’ve known him since we were in the sandbox, and he just stopped calling me Kent last year.”

“Yeah…” Chloe drawled. “Watching two people dance around each other for months, neither making a move. It’s the worst.”

“Waiting for one of them to finally make a move,” Nino said, “Literally. Kill. You. Inside.”

Lian nodded, “They like each other. Everyone knows they like each other. And Yet nothing. And we'll have no choice but watch and wait for them to pull their heads out of their asses,” She told them. “When all you want to scream is: hey, you two! Just freaking kiss already!”

“Yep the absolute worst,” Nino repeated.

Then Lian, Chloe, and Nino stared blatantly at Jon and Adrien who merely shrugged.

“Damian will make a move soon,” Jon assured.

“I’ll try to get Marinette to say something,” Adrien promised.

“…I hate you,” Chloe said.

Adrien gave her another confused look. Because what did he do wrong now?

Chat Galore: Dude!

Iron’s Kid: Dude!

Chat Galore: I need Hufflepuff support now!

Iron’s Kid: …Crap, I never told you Pottermore sorted me into Gryffindor, did i?

Chat Galore: WHAT!

Chat Galore: Traitor. Never talk to me again

Iron’s Kid: As you wish.

“How do I look?” Marinette asked as she twirled around in the living room. She wore a soft pink dress. Her hair was down and slightly curved. She looked like a princess from a fairytale.

“Flawless,” Adrien said, for the tenth time. “Why am I here?”

Marinette narrowed her eyes at him, “Because!” She said. “You’re my bestie. I have my first real date. Chloe’s shopping with Lian. Nino won’t answer my calls. I need you here!”

“Take a deep breath, Mari!” Adrien told her. “You look absolutely beautiful. Damian’s already head over heels for you, and the way you look is gonna make his purpose.”

The bluenette blushed a lovely pink, “Shut up!”

The door opened, and in walked Nico, “Looking lovely, niece,” He said. “Big date tonight, huh?”

“Yes,” Marinette sighed dreamily. “He’ll be here soon.”

Nico smirked, “Good. Don’t worry, I’ll only threaten him a little.”

“Nico!”

The dark-haired boy chuckled before flopping down on the couch. “Hey, Adrien.”

Adrien felt his mind go a little mushy. He never quite got over his crush on the older boy. At least not yet.

The two still hung out every now and then, still always with Marinette. Nico frequently split his time between New York and Paris. So Adrien didn’t see him that often, though Nico had been around to wish Adrien a happy 16th birthday.

Adrien tried to play it cool, but ended up sitting in awkwardly in the recliner, “Hey Nico!” His voice squeaked, and once more Adrien wanted to die.

The doorbell rang.

Damian brought Marinette a dozen red roses, let himself be mildly threatened by Nico, endured the massive amount of pictures Tom and Sabine took and ignored Adrien’s snickering in the background. Then the two love birds were gone. Sabine and Tom went to go finish closing the bakery for the night. And then it was just Adrien and Nico.

“So,” Nico said as he put his feet on the couch. “What are you doing tonight, Blond Wonder? Any plans?”

Adrien shook his head, “Not really,” Jon was visiting his parents. Nino was watching his siblings. “I’ll just go home and watch Bleach. Or something.” Stuff his mouth with the hidden box of Oreos he had.

“Why don’t you hang out with me?” Nico offered. “The Maltese Falcon at the old theater on 3rd street. It’s your favorite right?”

Adrien nodded eagerly, “Me and my Mom used to watch it all the time.”

The two had a great time at the movie theater and ended up staying to watch another movie. They laughed. They ate lots of overpriced junk food. They talked. And Adrien finally managed to have a non-blushing, stammering, mind mushed, conversation with Nico. It was still just a bit awkward but it was not the cause of something either of them did.

At the end, Nico walked Adrien to the front door of his house.

“It’s weird,” Nico said, “But I kind of always forget how great it is hanging out with you.”

Adrien shrugged, “You’re not too bad yourself,” Then he smirked, “Though you’d probably be happier if you add some color to your wardrobe. Do own anything that’s not the color of sadness?”

Nico barked a laugh, “I am the son of Hades,” He defended himself. “It’s our aesthetic, okay. And we all can’t be made from rainbows and sunshine.”

“Excuses.”

The dark-haired boy shook his head, and smirked at Adrien, “This was fun. We should do it again sometime.” He said as he backed away.

“Yeah,” Adrien smiled. “Go to the beach, see what happens when you go out in the daylight. Even money, you burst into flames.

Nico chuckled as he turned around, “Goodnight, Sunshine.”

“Night, Twilight!”

“You’re dead to me!” Nico called back.

Ladybug and Chat Noir and the other Parisian heroes got used to the Three Justice League sidekicks appearing out of nowhere and assisting in battle. It had been strange at first; a little tense. Mostly due to Robin interrogating them every chance he got. Arrowette glaring menacingly at them. Even Superboy was a bit intimidating. Still, they never revealed why there in Paris.

During this time, Adrien and Jon became much better friends. And the blond started to suspect that Jon would prefer to just stay friends with him.

Iron’s Kid: Johnny and Me are over.

Chat Galore: Ouch. What happened?

Iron’s Kid: ‘Dramatic Sigh’ we’re just too different, you know?

Chat Galore: Different is not always bad. You really liked him, right?

Chat Galore: And did you actually type ‘Dramatic Sigh’, you dramatic bitch?

Iron’s Kid: I like that he was different at first. But we barely had anything in common. We were fire in and ice. Sure it is steamy at first but when the steam is gone…

Iron’s Kid: And yes I did

Chat Galore: You okay?

Iron’s Kid: I’m fine. I just realized I want someone I can talk to about everything and nothing.

Chat Galore: Someone to geek out over Star Trek with, and go to when you need a shoulder to lean on.

Iron’s Kid: Someone who’d stay up all night talking just because he wants to be there for me.

Chat Galore: Dating shouldn’t be this hard

Iron’s Kid: It’ll only get harder.

Chat Galore: Shut. Up.

Iron’s Kid: As you wish.

For Marinette’s sixteenth birthday, she had a party. It was much bigger than she wanted, but not smaller than her friends tried to make it. The bluenette was always there for them, and they wanted to remind her how special was.

However, for the first time, Adrien was pleased to say, he was not the one trying to overdue everything to the extreme. Chloe was pleased that she wasn’t the one making the party planner cry whenever she called them. Nino was pleased that he wasn’t the one to be overly critical of the musical entertainment for being just a bit subpar.

No! That was Damian Wayne.

And unlike Marinette’s best friends, Marinette’s boyfriend’s craziness could not be contained.

The party was huge. There were hundreds of balloons. Everyone was wearing fanciest party clothes. There were hundreds of balloons. Gourmet food. All of Marinette’s friends, close acquaintances, and anyone who loved and or adored her had shown up. Jagged had come. Cara Nightingale did a surprise performance.

Adrien had a blast. His friends found out that while the blond boy had lessons in practically everything, dance wasn’t one of them. He was a terrible dancer. Laughably bad. Still, everyone had fun. Nino danced in a giant glow in the dark dinosaur costume.

Then Marinette, Adrien, Nino, Chloe got on stage and sang Born to Brave from High School Musical: The Series. Damian, Jon, and Lian joined them. The crowd sang with. Bubbles filled the air. It was exhilarating.

So much so that Adrien stepped out to take a small break. He sat on a white wood bench outside, looking up at the stars, and let the cool brisk night air relax him. Even from where he sat, he could still hear music playing from the party.

“Needed a breather,” Jon asked as he sat down next to Adrien.

“Parties,” Adrien shrugged. “They can be a bit much.”

Jon shifted in his seat, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess.”

Then Blue eyes met green…

And then everything suddenly felt really the world was holdings breath. Adrien had no idea where the tension came from but it was there. And it was like he was waiting for some imaginary bubble to burst. And Adrien just… Ugh!

He glanced down at his hands, suddenly not knowing what to do with them. He was also intensely aware of every millimeter Jon so much as moved. In fact, Adrien was aware of everything, including how many times he was blinking.

“This kind of reminds me of how we met,” Adrien finally blurted.

Jon cast him a curious look but nodded, “Yeah, the park bench, right?”

“Mmhmm.”

There it went quiet.

“Why are parties a bit much?” Jon asked.

“Not all parties,” Adrien said. “Just the ones my dad usually drags me to. Everyone is always overly polite while giving backhanded compliments; they pretend to be nice but they don’t mean it. No one’s straight forward. I don’t know why it is so hard.”

“It’s not!” Jon turned to him. “Let’s try it now. Hi, I’m Jon and…” He took two plugs out of his ears, “…I wear earplugs because I can’t handle loud noises sometimes.”

Adrien chuckled, “Hi. I’m Adrien. And apparently, I’m a terrible dancer.”

“God Awful!”

“Hey!”

Jon laughed, “My little Pony is one my favorite shows.

“I once had an imaginary friend named Phineas!”

“I like fried broccoli!”

“I like fried Oreos.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Oh because fried broccoli so much better.”

“Hey, being straight forward here!” Jon defended. “I like raining days over sunny.”

Adrien smiled, “I like you,” he took a deep breath. “Like really like you.” He glanced down and then back up at Jon and tried to be brave. “Like I the way I thought you might’ve used to like me but don’t anymore.”

“Really?” Jon asked looking just a bit stunned. “How very straight forward of you.”

Adrien stood up quickly, slightly panicked, “That’s it. That’s all I wanted to say. If you don’t like me anymore, I get it.” He said. “I… I just really wanted you to tell you. Even if you change your mind.”

“Adrien,” Jon said, standing up too, facing the blond. “I’ve never changed my mind.” Then he leaned forward and kissed Adrien. “I really like you too.”

Adrien and Jon held hands as they walked back into the party.

Later, after the party ended, Adrien would tell Marinette, Chloe, and Nino about his first kiss, and go partially death from Marinette and Chloe’s screams.

Chat Galore: You know what I like?

Chat Galore: Life!

Iron’s Kid: Things going good then?

Chat Galore: Jon kissed me. My grades are perfect. My dad’s letting me cut back on modeling.

Iron’s Kid: Awesome! You’ve need a break.

Chat Galore: We need a happy song!

Iron’s Kid: We. Do. Not.

Chat Galore: We need a happy song so when we can sing the happy song when we’re happy.

Iron’s Kid: We will never have a happy song.

Iron’s Kid: That’s more of a Hufflepuff thing

Chat Galore: I’d be offended if it wasn’t true!

Adrien’s life really was going great. He became good friends with Nico. Lila’s lies in the class were starting to unravel, and she was quickly losing her supporters. Jon and him were sort of, kind of, officially dating. The sun was shining. Rainbows were everywhere.

…He should’ve known it wouldn’t last forever.

Adrien got a 911 group text from Chloe; with like a dozen exclamation points and several frowny faces so he knew it was serious.

When he got to Chloe’s place, he found Marinette and Nino already waiting on the couch, while Chloe paced the floor. Adrien joined on the couch.

“Okay,” Marinette said. “We’re all here. What’s up? What’s the emergency?”

“They’re spies,” Chloe hissed, rage clear on her face. “Lian, Jon, Damian; they’ve been spying on us all this time.”

“What? Dude, no way!” Nino shook his head. “They’re our friends. Lian hates traitors!”

“Damian would never!” Marinette denied. “He loves me. I love him.”

Adrien agreed, “They’d never do that us. Jon couldn’t. He’s like the most honest kid ever.”

Chloe picked up a nearby face and smashed against the wall, “They’re two-faced lying little creeps.” She yelled. Though it was clear she was angry, they could also see the hurt clear in the blonde’s eyes.

“Chloe…” Marinette started slowly but was cut off.”

“Lian is Arrowette!” Chloe growled. “Jon’s Superboy. And I’ll give you one big fat guess who Damian is. And for the record he is not as wonderful as his nickname implies.”

Pollen flew out from wherever she was hiding, “It’s true!” She said. “I saw them myself. They are the American heroes.”

“Pollen followed them,” Chloe explained. “She saw everything. They’ve been following us. Reporting intel to the Justice League all about us. That’s why they’re here. That’s why they got close to us. They know we’re heroes!”

Horror and understandingly slowly crept over Nino, Marinette, and Adrien’s faces.

Pollen nodded eagerly, “They have reports all about your lives in and out of the mask. It's very detailed.”

Adrien was glad he was sitting down because he felt like the floor has disappeared under his feet. Shakily, he stood up, “I need too…” He shook his head. “I have too…” He couldn’t finish his sentence instead he just ran from the room.

And kept running and running.

Until he found himself standing in front of the apartment where Jon, Lian, and Damian lived. He stared at the olive green door as if he didn’t recognize it. As if he hadn’t been there, in that same spot, standing in front of that door, a hundred times before.

He closed his eyes and he knocked.

Jon opened the door, “Adrien!” He had a large grin on his face that slowly disappeared when he saw the look on the blond boy’s face.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure, yeah!” Jon moved out of the way to let Adrien pass. “Is everything okay?”

Adrien walked into the living room and saw Damian and Lian sitting on the couch, “Go see Marinette,” He ordered Damian. “If you want any chance of saving your relationship, if you ever really loved her like you said you; you will go see Her. Right. Now.”

That was all Damian needed to here to fly out of the room.

Adrien turned to Lian, “I need to speak with Jon alone, please,” He said as politely as possible. “I would suggest going to go speak with Nino and Chloe.”

Lian frowned but nodded and left the room.

“Adrien, what’s going on?” Jon asked again. “You’re scaring me.”

Adrien let out a shorter bitter laugh, “I’m going to ask you three questions, and I need to be honest with me, okay? Is your name Jon Kent?

“Yes,” Jon stated firmly. “Jonathan Kent Lane.”

“Are we friends?”

“Of course!”

Adrien nodded and swallowed the lump that was building in his throat, “Why did you really come to Paris?”

Jon frowned, “I’m here on a foreign exchange-” Adrien cut him off.

“Don’t lie to me, Superboy!”

The boy of Steel flinched back.

“Tell me it isn’t true!” Adrien all but begged. “Tell me you didn’t come here to spy on Chat Noir and Ladybug and everyone else. Tell me this wasn’t all a big lie. Tell me you weren’t using me for information. Tell me! Tell me wrong I’m, please.”

“Adrien…” Jon whispered, pain on his face. “I’m sorry.”

That was Adrien needed to here. “All this time. You… I thought… Was any of it real? Was anything you ever told me real? Do I even know you?” He asked. “

“The Justice League was concerned about Hawkmoth,” Jon tried to explain. “They received intelligence that Ladybug and Chat Noir were teenagers, and wanted to know more. They sent us.”

Adrien just stared at him, “I like you,” He said. “I really liked you. You were my friend, Did you do all just because you were ordered to?”

“No!” Jon nodded, “I swear. I’d never do that to you, to anyone.”

“But you thought it was okay to kiss me,” Adrien said “To date me! When I had no idea who you are really?”

Jon tossed his hands in the air, “You know who I am. Nothing’s changed. I’m still the same guy. I’m still me!”

“Everything’s changed!” Adrien yelled. “I’m questioning everything. Everything I��ve ever said to you, everything we ever did together!” His entire body shook. “You were sent to get close to us. You were sent to get close to me. To. Get. Information.”

It went quiet. Neither knowing what to say.

“…That day in the park,” Adrien whispered. “You were on the bench and Chloe thought you were checking me out. You weren’t, were you? You were watching me, us. Gathering intel. Weren’t you?”

Jon looked away, “…Yeah, I was.”

You knew I was Chat Noir even then?”

“I did.”

Adrien nodded, “It’s been a lie since the beginning,” He clenched his fists. “In the library, you told me that people deserve the truth. I believed in you. I trusted you. I told you things I’ve haven’t even told people who’ve known my entire life. Because I trusted you. I trusted you were honest and good and you would tell me the truth. Why didn’t I deserve the truth?”

He looked up at the mantle that was covered in pictures of people that Adrien knew as friends and family of Jon, Damian, and Lian, and at all of the pictures of Chloe, Nino, Adrien, and Marinette together with the three; laughing and smiling. And it hurt to look at it. “You’ve been here for almost a year. You three pretended to be our friends, to care, for almost a year.”

“It wasn’t pretend. Or a lie,” Jon looked ready to cry. “You are our friends!”

Adrien ran a hand through his hair, “Then Why? If we were your friends, why?”

Jon shrugged, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. Everything was so complicated. We were never supposed to be here this long. It was our first big mission. The first mission JL trusted us to handle alone. I could give you a thousand excuses but I know they wouldn’t be good enough.”

“They wouldn’t be,” Adrien agreed. “They aren’t. They never will be.”

It went silent again. Jon and Adrien just stared at each other.

“You weren’t sent to get close us,” Adrien repeated. “Not just learn about Hawkmoth. But you were specifically sent to get close us; learn who we are as heroes and as civilians. Hawkmoth was a bonus. But you were sent for Ladybug and Chat Noir and Queen Bee and Carapace. Right?”

Jon looked down, away from Adrien’s soul-piercing gaze, and admitted, “You were the mission.”

Adrien closed his eyes, stood up straight, and with every ounce of control he could muster, he calmly said, “Goodbye, Jon.”

“I never meant to hurt you,” Jon said.

“That doesn’t really matter, because, in the end, it all hurts the same,” Adrien replied and left.

For the next few hours, Jon saying, “You were the mission,” Kept echoing in Adrien’s head on a loop.

Not long after leaving Jon’s place, Adrien would find himself in Marinette’s room, letting the bluenette cry her eyes out into his shoulder, shedding his own tears too. Chloe would arrive next with bloodshot eyes, and cuddle next to them. Nino, just after her, looking like a wreck and would take the spot next to Adrien.

It would be hours before they’d calm themselves down. But it wouldn’t be until the next day that any of them managed to ask what they should next.

Chloe spitefully suggested kicking them out of Paris.

Nino agreed halfheartedly.

Adrien was fine with just ignoring them. At least he hoped that he could. He would try really, really hard to.

Marinette didn’t say a word. Instead, she just let them talk with a faraway look on her face.

In the end, it wouldn’t matter.

By Monday, Jon, Damian, and Lian would be gone. Bustier would announce that the exchange program ended.

And Adrien would find himself frequently staring at Jon’s empty seat.

Chat Galore: So it turns out… Jon’s a big jerk

Chat Galore: He wasn’t who I thought he was.

Chat Galore: It’s complicated but to summarize he’s a jerk.

Iron’s Kid: Screw Prince Charming if he turned out to be a warty, jerky frog.

Iron’s Kid: You deserve better.

Chat Galore: To quote Gabriella Montez: Now I know you're not a fairy tale And dreams were meant for sleeping And wishes on a star Just don't come true

Iron’s Kid: Crap, you're quoting high school musical. You're really hurting, aren’t you.

Iron’s Kids: Want to watch shitty Disney Channel movies and talk?

Chat Galore: …Yes.

Three months, two weeks, six days, nine hours, and twelve minutes. That was how long it took for Adrien to move on. For all of them to move on from the sense of betrayal.

Iron’s Kid: YOU STILL HAVEN’T WATCHED PRINCESS BRIDE

Chat Galore: It doesn’t seem like that good of a movie

Iron’s Kid: ‘Insulted Gasp’ How. Dare. YOU!

Chat Galore: You still have watched Vampire Diaries!

Iron’s Kid: I have taste!

It took almost three weeks for Chloe to stop growling whenever someone mentioned Damian, Jon, or Lian’s name.

Iron’s Kid: I might need to hide out in Paris for a while

Chat Galore: Did you blow up your dad’s lab again?

Iron’s Kid: Worse!

Chat Galore: You superglue legos to your Pop’s shield again.

Iron’s Kid: That was an accident. They were supposed to come right off. And it's worse.

Chat Galore: Melt another hole in your living room floor?

Iron’s Kid: So. SO much worse.

Chat Galore: You didn’t call Natasha fat did you?

Iron’s Kid: Never that bad

Iron’s Kid: I may or may not have caused MJ’s laptop to crash

Chat Galore: … Shit

Chat Galore: Not even the gods could save you.

A month for Marinette to not look like she wanted to cry when she thought about Damian.

Chat Galore: I’ve decided to learn to cook

Iron’s Kid: Sweet

Chat Galore: Just think One day you will try my cooking.

Iron’s Kid: Sorry, Can’t I’m on a new diet.

Chat Galore: WHAT DIET?

Iron’s Kid: Photosynthesis

Two months for Nino to redownload all the songs he deleted because Lian recommended them.

Iron’s Kid: Archie is one of my best friends

Chat Galore: *doing the Fortnite dance*

Iron’s Kid: I lied I don’t know you

Three months for Adrien to be able to sit in the park and not think about Jon.

Iron’s Kid: I think are MJ and Shure are laughing at me

Chat Galore: Don't be so paranoid

Iron’s Kid: They're pointing at me and laughing.

In the fourth month, things are pretty much the same as they ever were. Though everyone picked up the habit of pretending they didn’t know Marinette started texting Damian again. Eventually, the gang was okay when Marinette announced she was seeing Damian again; even if they, themselves, decided not to deal with the American heroes.

Chat Galore: I really thought 2020 would be a great year!!!

Iron’s Kid: …WWIII was trending in the first week of January.

Time went on. Adrien went on dates, had fun, had a boyfriend or two. He grew up a bit, and kind of understood the position Jon had been in better. And then he wasn’t so angry. Still, a bit hurt though.

Iron’s Kid: I’m sending good vibes your way, they’re coming and there is nothing you can do to stop the

Chat Galore: that is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

By the time summer hit, Adrien decided to take a step back from love and romance and just focus on himself. He finally told his dad his wanted to be a Lawyer, and to his surprise, his dad helped him get a summer internship at a prestigious law firm.

Chat Galore: I’ve decided if I kill Lila, I’ll make it look like an accident.

Chat Galore: Unlike Chloe who has plans to mount her head on the balcony like a warning to the next that may come

Iron’s Kid: How will you make it look like an accident?

Chat Galore: I have a crowbar and a banana.

Iron’s Kid: Quick request: Go look up accident in the dictionary.

He quit modeling because he never really liked it. He found out he liked to paint and was pretty good at it. He tried and failed to learn how to dance.

He did learn to surf.

Adrien hung out a lot with Nico, who had become a good friend.

By the time summer ended, the gang was back on speaking terms with Damian, Lian, and Job. Mostly at Marinette’s behest. She and Damian were going strong. And she really wanted everyone to forgive and forget and be friends.

Chloe just agreed to be civil.

Nino agreed to try being friends again after the three apologized.

Adrien, mostly out of love for his all but sister Marnette, put his best foot forward and start over with them – even Jon. They agreed to be friends. Just friends.

Iron’s Kid: I don’t have a nervous system.

Iron’s Kid: I am a nervous system.

Chat Galore: I’m a Scorpio!

Their final year of school started with a bang. Next year they would all be off at University. And by Bang, Adrien meant Alya knocking Lila the fuck out during the first week.

Lila had told the one lie Alya couldn’t just live in denial with.

“I told Ladybug, I just couldn’t do it anymore,” Lila sighed, “I already have so many medical issues. I couldn’t be Rene Rouge anymore. Ladybug was devasted.”

Then the entire class heard Lila scream, and the thing they knew Alya was on top of Lila beating the hell out of her, screaming, “You lying little WITCH!!”

Chat Galore: ‘Video Sent’

Iron’s Kid: Lila’s the girl on the floor right?

Chat Galore: Alya SNAPPED

Lila transferred out of the school Alya transferred out of class. No one got an apology. Adrien didn’t know why he was still a little surprised.

Outside of school, Adrien was pleased to say the gang’s friendship with Jon, Lian, and Damian was back to full force. Even Chloe greeted the three warmly.

Once Adrien decided to move passed any lingering romantic feelings for Jon, they managed to have a pretty good friendship. Even the Superboy and Chat Noir team-ups were going well.

Chat Galore: what should I be for Halloween this year?

Iron’s Kid: a vampire, Batman, my boyfriend, Superman

Adrien laughs until everything processed in his mind.

Chat Galore: What?

He didn’t get a reply. And Adrien figured it was just autocorrected. But still… his mind couldn’t help but wonder. Just a bit… What if?

A while ago, he had vaguely considered that maybe him and Iron’s Kid had something, could possibly be…

In the middle of Winter break, Adrien got the best gift he could’ve ever asked for.

Iron’s Kid: I’ve been thinking

Chat Galore: Well that can’t end well

Iron’s Kid: Have you and MJ been talking behind my back

Iron’s Kid: Wait don’t answer that. I’m afraid to know

Iron’s Kid: Ned made a point the today

Adrien waited for Iron’s Kid to elaborate more, because what?

Iron’s Kid: I’ve been stupid.

Chat Galore: Ned makes a good point, lol

Iron’s Kid: WHAT I’m TRYING TO say is; I trust you

Adrien smiled as his phone.

Iron’s Kid: We’ve been friends since we were like 11

Iron’s Kid: I want to meet

Iron’s Kid: I want to know what you look like.

Adrien agreed instantly. Because he’s been waiting for like six years. They agreed to meet up that spring. Iron’s Kid’s was going on a trip to Europe for his spring break. It was just going to be him and a few classmates who were in the same club as him. Iron’s Kid said everyone else in their grade was looking forward to the Big Senior Ski Trip at the Brown Bear Ski Lodge that happened every year.

Adrien had family in England. They would meet at six pm at the London’s Eye.

Chat Galore: I always figured you were secretly a werewolf and knew we’d automatically be enemies.

Iron’s Kid: Wait, why would we be enemies?

Iron’s Kid: Oh You’re a Cat!

Chat Galore: And You’re supposed to be a genius.

Iron’s Kid: Meow!

Adrien’s seventeenth birthday came and went without any fireworks; metaphorical ones anyway. His party was huge.

He also met the Justice League and got to watch Chloe cuss out the greatest heroes in the world for the invasion of privacy. Marinette, Adrien, and Nino just watched with smiles on their faces.

He was counting down the days. Until he and Iron’s Kid finally met. It was strange to think it was really going to happen.

Chat Galore: Would you say you’re an independent person?

Iron’s Kid: MJ told me to say to yes.

Chat Galore: Stop being weird.

Iron’s Kid: As you wish.

Adrien chuckled.

“What?” Marinette asked. He showed her the text. “It kind of funny.

“Not the Mj thing,” Adrien shook his head. “Iron’s Kid always says ‘As You wish’ whenever I tell him to do something. It’s weird.”

“…Like in Princess Bride,” Marinette asked.

Adrien shrugged, “Never seen it. It’s one of Iron’s favorite though. Irritates him that I refuse to watch it. But I won’t until he watches the Vampire Diaries.”

Marinette stared at him, “And Iron’s Kid says ‘As you Wish’ every time.”

“Yep.”

“Adrien, WATCH. THAT. MOVIE,” Marinette ordered a firm look on her face.

Adrien pointed at her, “No!” He said firmly. “It goes against my principles.” She shot him a curious look. “I have a duty to annoying Iron’s Kid in any way I can.”

The bluenette nodded understandingly, a small smile on her face, “Makes sense,” She said. “I totally accept your reasoning.”

Adrien smiled happily… Like a fool.

In retrospect, he should’ve known Marinette would never back down that easily.

And that was how he ended up literally hogtied on the couch, the Princess Bride playing on the TV, with a smug Chloe and a gleeful Marinette next to him. Nino watched from the recliner with an easy grin on his face.

“You’ve could’ve helped!” Adrien complained to his friend.

Nino shrugged, “I did help!” He defended. “…Them.”

Adrien sighed and allowed himself to watch the movie; he fully knows two things.

One; there was no way he was getting out of this

Two; Iron’s Kid was never going to let him live this down.

The movie was actually pretty good. But then…

The scene played…

Grandpa: Nothing gave Buttercup as much pleasure as ordering Westley around.

Buttercup: Farm boy, polish my horse's saddle. I want to see my face shining in it by morning.

Westley: As you wish.

Grandpa: "As you wish" was all he ever said to her.

Buttercup: Farm boy, fill these with water - please.

Westley: As you wish.

Grandpa: That day, she was amazed to discover that when he was saying "As you wish," what he meant was, "I love you." And even more amazing was the day she realized she truly loved him back.

Buttercup: Farm boy ... fetch me that pitcher.

Westley: As you wish.

Adrien’s mind went blank. His heart started beating faster than it ever had before. It couldn’t mean…

Iron’s kid didn’t mean…

Right?

But what if he did.

Adrien always sort of held a small torch for his penpal. And he never had any concrete evidence that said he felt the same. And he was waiting until he did.

But what if Iron’s Kid was waiting too. What if he was waiting for Adrien to finally say something; to finally get his message.

Chat Galore: So…

Iron’s Kid: So… Did we agree to stop sending cryptic messages

Chat Galore: We did not

Chat Galore: So I finally watched Princess Bride

Iron’s Kid: YES!!!!!!!!! Finally!!! Fuck yeah! Tell you me loved it.

Chat Galore: It was good, you freaking loser

Iron’s Kid: It’s amazing. It’s a classic you asshat

Chat Galore: Learned something interesting though

Chat Galore: ‘As you wish’, huh? You say a lot

Chat Galore: To me.

Adrien stared as his phone waiting for a reply. It came after ten minutes.

Iron’s Kid: I do.

Chat Galore: Does it mean what it's supposed to.

Another five minutes, and it felt agony.

Iron’s Kid: It does

Adrien screamed a little

Chat Galore: Are you seriously just going to give me two-word answers? Why didn’t just you tell me

Iron’s Kid: In a way I sort of did

Adrien glared at the phone.

Chat Galore: You are the most frustrating person to ever exist!!!!!!

Iron’s Kid: Thank you

Adrien took a deep breath before dialing, “You suck!” He said as soon as it answered.

“I told you to watch the movie,” Iron’s kid defended.

Adrien gripped his hair, “You don’t tell someone you love them by using some obscure 80s movie reference!” He snapped. “How hard would it be to say: Iron’s Kid, I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since we were twelve-years-old.”

It went quiet as both processed what Adrien just said.

“…That’s oddly specific,” Iron’s kid whispered.

Adrien took a deep breath, “Yeah it is.” He said. He was forcing himself to be brave, braver than he ever had before. “But its how I feel. And I can’t help that.”

“I love you too,” Iron’s kid said. “And I’ve loved you since the first time stayed up talking while Binge-watching Harry Potter. It was the first time I realized you know me best in the entire world, and you don’t even know my real name. I could be honest with you in a way I can’t be with anyone. If I could dream up the perfect guy, he wouldn’t even come close to you.”

“Boys meets world,” Adrien let out a small laugh, that sounded a bit more like a sob. “Most of my life I felt alone, even when I was with people. That was until I met you.”

“Pretty little liars,” Iron’s Kid stated.

“In a few weeks, we’re finally gonna meet.”

“I’ll be there,” Iron’s kid said. “I swear.”

Adrien smiled, “Good because I’ve been waiting for six years. And I know this is scary, but I will be there. Don’t let me down.”

“I won’t,” He promised.

Valentine’s day came and went.

Adrien was literally marking off the days on the calendar. The trip was all planned already; Nino, Chloe, and Marinette were tagging along.

Iron’s Kid and Adrien talked every day.

“Okay if you sigh dreamily one more...” Nico teased.

Adrien flushed a bright pink, “I’m finally gonna meet Iron’s Kid.”

“Ahh,” Nico nodded understandingly. “The mysterious penpal. It’s been what seven years?”\

“Six,” Adrien corrected. “Feels like twice that. We like each other,” He admitted. “Like really, really each other. We told each other a few weeks ago.’

Nico frowned, “Just before meeting each other. Sounds like a lot of pressure. You ready for that?”

The blond took a deep breath, “Yeah, I think so. It’s time. It’s going to be perfect. We’re gonna meet at London’s eyes, under the stars; it’ll be like a movie.”

“Your Ferris wheel moment,” Nico concluded. “Marinette told me,” The older boy explained. “Just… be careful okay.”

“I will be.”

Nico gave him a hard look, “I’m serious. I know you. You’re all in. You always are,” he said. “Just don’t build this some more than you should. Don’t go in thinking it’ll be this picture-perfect movie moment. I don’t want to see you let down.” He told Adrien. “You’re my friend. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Adrien gave him a small smile, “I don’t care if the Ferris wheel is broken when I get there. Or its raining cats and dogs. It’ll be perfect.”

“Just be careful,” Nico repeated.

The big day came. Adrien arrived in England on late Thursday with a stomach full of butterflies. Iron’s Kid had texted that he had been in London with his friends for a few days and that he couldn’t wait to see Adrien.

Iron’s Kid: I have brown hair. I’ll be wearing black slacks, and a rose lapel flower pin.

It wasn’t the first time the blond had been to England; he had more than a few photoshoots there. Yet somehow it all felt different. It all felt new. And it was like he was looking at everything again for the first time.

He was to meet Iron’s Kid on Saturday at 6 pm. And he could barely contain himself

He spent most of the Friday touring with his friends. They went to Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, The British Museum; standard tourist spots. And eating really, really British cuisine.

Adrien woke up bright and early on Saturday and pretty much had a panic attack. It took Nino twenty minutes to calm him down. However, even when he was breathing normally again, Adrien was adamant about running back to Paris. That was when Nino called in Marinette and Chloe as reinforcements.

“If I have to drag to London’s Eye by your tacky boyband haircut,” Chloe growled. “I will.”

Marinette tried the nice route, “Everything’s going to be fine,” She assured.

Chloe huffed, “I didn’t come all the way to London so you can be a little bitch.”

“You are so hostile,” Nino complained.

“What if this a mistake?” Adrien asked. “What if he’s disappointed? What if he takes one look at me, and is ‘You? I waited six years, and I get you. Waste of time.”

“That won’t happen!” Marinette said. “He’s gonna love you. He already does!”

Nino nodded, “Yeah. You two are practically soulmates.”

“No!” Chloe held up a finger. “Listen to me clearly, Adrien Agreste; Just because he likes the same nerdy crap you do doesn't mean he's your soul mate. And if it doesn’t work out, not that it won’t, you will be just fine.”

Marinette sighed, “No matter what happens everything is going to be okay.” She said firmly. “But you should really change that blazer. It’s not doing you any favors. Then we’re going to get breakfast and go to the museum. You have 11 hours until you have to be at the London’s eye. You’re going to relax until.”

“While we stop you from fleeing the country,” Nino yawned tiredly.

That had to stop Adrien at least three times. One time Ladybug actually had appeared to pick Adrien up when he was halfway to the airport. This was all before one pm.

The blond boy managed to calm down after that. Then he went back to bursting with excitement. He was still afraid but he couldn’t let that stop him. Adrien has been waiting six years to meet Iron’s Kid, to meet Iron’s Kid.

He arrived at the London’s eye, half an hour before six. He wore a silver suit Marinette had designed for him.

Adrien took calming breaths. Marinette rolled her eyes as she fixed his tie, “See? This isn't so bad. You look amazing.”

“Are you kidding?” He gave her a nervous smile, “He traveled over three thousand miles to me. Any second now he's gonna get here, look at me and go, "Ha. Yeah, right, you're so not worth this.”

Marinette gave him a hard look, “Yes, you are.” She patted his chest. “Take a lot of pictures. Text if you need anything.”

And then she was gone.

Adrien texted Iron’s Kid.

Chat Galore: I’m here. Blond; silver suit.

The blond looked up at the London’s eyes, the biggest Ferris wheel had ever seen, and knew this was it. This was the moment Adrien had been waiting for. He smiled.

When six pm came, Adrien was practically bursting at the seams. He was literally shaking in excitement. He watched the people go by and held his breath every time he saw a guy his age with brown hair but would frown when he didn’t see the rose lapel pin.

Chat Galore: You here yet?

Six turned into seven. The sun had gone down. The stars were shining. Everything looked so perfect. Adrien was sure Iron’s Kid was on his way.

Chat Galore: If your running late it’s cool. I’ll wait.

Seven turned into eight. Adrien refused to give up hope. He would wait no matter how long it took.

Iron’s Kid was worth it.

Chat Galore: Still here.

Chat Galore: Did something come up?

Eight turned into nine. The London’s eye closed. People started leaving. Adrien texted his friends that he was fine.

He wasn’t feeling as hopeful as he did a few hours ago. But he’d wait.

Chat Galore: Still waiting.

Chat Galore: Well past feeling just a little pathetic.

Nine turned into ten. Hope kind of then.

Chat Galore: Still here. Still waiting.

Chat Galore: What happened?

Chat Galore: Just say something!

Ten turned to eleven. Adrien didn’t even know why he was still waiting.

Chat Galore: Anything! Please!

A quarter to midnight, Adrien finally got an answer.

Iron’s Kid: I’m sorry.

That was it. That was all he said.

Adrien got back to his hotel room a little after midnight; feeling numb. His throat burned a little. His eyes were a little red.

Nino greeted him with a big grin, “Back late, huh? Must’ve had a good time…” He trailed off when he saw the look on Adrien’s face. “Oh god, what happened?”

Adrien shoved his hands in his pockets, “He, uh, he never showed up,” he said and swallowed the lump that had been building in his throat. “It’s fine. I’m fine. It’s okay.” Adrien nodded. “I need to, I have to, uh. I got to the bathroom.” And then he fled into the bathroom, locking the door behind him; willing the world to just stop existing for just a few moments.

“Dude, it’s okay,” Nino said through the door. “I know this has to be rough. But you’ll get through it. I’m here. I called Chloe and Marinette, they’re on their way.”

Adrien didn’t say anything. He just wiped the tears off his face, and then gripped the bathroom sink.

“They’ll probably be banging on the door any sec,” Nino added. “Unless, Marinette’s trying to stop Chloe from committing murder,” He joked. “Which would be way rude by the way. I’d have liked an invitation. I thought our friendship was stronger.”

Adrien heard loud knocking and the sweet voice of Marinette asking where he was, and the furious voice of Chloe already talking about how she knew how t to hide a body.

The blond boy figured it was only a matter of time before Nino or Marinette convinced him to open up the door. Or Chloe broke it down.

However, surprisingly after twenty or so minutes of his friends pleading with him to open the door, the door would gently swing open to reveal Marinette kneeling with a lockpick set in her hands.

That got a smile out of Adrien. After all these years, the bluenette was still full of surprises.

Adrien spent the rest of the night letting his friends comfort him. They left England the next morning.

When they got back to Paris, and Adrien was back in the comfort of his room, he finally texted Iron’s Kid back.

Chat Galore: Why didn’t you show?

He’d wait for a reply all day but wouldn’t get one.

The next day, Adrien texted again.

Chat Galore: I’m not mad.

Chat Galore: I promise

Chat Galore: just a little hurt.

Again, he’d wait for a reply all day, but it didn’t come.

Though his friends tried to get him to talk about it, Adrien wouldn’t budge. He just couldn’t…

It just stung too much. It burned too much.

Chat Galore: I get it if you were afraid or something

Chat Galore: It’s okay.

And was the truth; it was fine.

He would be fine. Everything was good. It was okay.

Adrien would be fine.

That was what he told everyone.

Chat Galore: We can pretend this never happened if you want

Chat Galore: Just be friends.

Adrien still didn’t get a reply. That didn’t stop him from waiting for one. He figured Iron’s Kid was just embarrassed that he didn’t show or something. Everything would go back to normal after a few days.

Chat Galore: I’m going to see Onward. Heard its pretty good.

But a few days became a week. A week became two. Two weeks a became a month of radio silence. And a seed of worrying starting to grow in Adrien’s stomach. Nevertheless, Adrien wrote Iron’s Kid once a day. He refused to give up hope.

Adrien kept a smile on his face to stop his friends from being concerned. There was no reason to. He would be fine. It was okay. It wasn’t the first time he got his heart broken; probably would even be his last.

His days were split between studying and fight Hawkmoth. The villain was getting bolder and more desperate. Every Akuma seemed worse and stronger than the last. The kids got used to the feeling of always being dead on their feet.

Marinette finally decided they needed a break and ordered a family game night. She got the newly permanent heroes Luka, Kagami, and Aurore to cover for them.

Adrien tried to give all his attention to the monopoly game they played; laughed when he was supposed to. Tried to ignore that in the back of his mind, his attention was still a bit focused on his phone, and that fact that it's been a month since he heard from Iron’s Kid.

A month since London.

He barely even blinked twice when Marinette successfully bankrupted him, even though he was the first one out. Instead, as soon as the game got more intense, Adrien stuck away. He found himself on the roof the bakery, staring at the stars, clutching his phone in his hand.

Chat Galore: I’m running out of things to say

Chat Galore: Hard to have a one-sided conversation.

Chat Galore: I’m not even sure you’re reading this.

Chat Galore: Maybe I’ll just you send you movie quotes until you respond

Adrien looked back up at the stars and wished. He wished never agreed to meet Iron’s Kid. He wished he never told him he loved him. He wished he could take it all back because at least he’d still have his friend.

He wrapped his arms around himself. Adrien blinked back the tears that were building.

He heard the door open behind him and figured it was Chloe or Nino coming to check on him; whoever got kicked out of the game firsts. Because Marinette was going to win.

“Beautiful night,” A voice said. “Nothing quite like Paris in the springtime.”

Adrien cast a quick smile at Nico, “I always preferred it during Winter. A Snowy wonderland.” He went back to looking up at the stars.

“You know someday someone will walk into your life,” Nico said as he walked to stand next to the blond, “And make you realize why he never worked out with anyone else.”

“Go ahead,” Adrien laughed bitterly. “Tell me I told you so.”

Nico shrugged, ‘Iron’s Kid’s a kid. And an idiot.”

“Yeah,” The blond sobbed. “That doesn’t mean much coming from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nico crossed his arms.

“Nothing,” Adrien rolled his eyes. “I’m just tired… I'm so tired of falling for guys that don't fall back. It hurts.”

“Adrien, I…”

Adrien cut him off, “It’s the same thing every time. I’m all in, and they’re not. I’m the one left out in the cold. I’m waiting, looking like a total idiot. Because I was stupid enough to give all my heart when no one else ever does. So you wanna help me, Nico? Tell me what I do wrong.

“Nothing!” Nico gripped Adrien’s shoulders. “There is nothing wrong with you. You’re smart and talented. You’re caring and you’re funny. You look at this world like everything is possible, and you make me believe it too. You’re not the problem.”

“Tell me why I'm so easy to give up then,” The blond asked. “And maybe I can fix it”

“You’re asking the wrong guy, Sunshine,” Nico whispered, his forehead against Adrien’s, their lips inches apart. “There is no time or place or world, where it would ever be easy to give you up.”

Nico moved closer; so did Adrien…

“Hey!!” A voice called from downstairs. “New games starting. It’s Poker! Hurry your butts up!”

The two guys snapped back to reality and away from each other.

“You should go,” Nico said dryly, looking away from the other boy. “I’m going to stay here for a bit.”

“Nico…” Adrien said, looking a bit confused.

The older boy shook his head.

The blond nodded and started for the door.

“For what it’s worth,” Nico called. “He made the wrong choice.”.

A small smile spread over Adrien’s face, “I know.”

“I wonder what would’ve happened if we met when we were older,” Nico asked.

Adrien shrugged, “Someday we will be.”

“Long game?”

“Long game.”

He went back to the living room where everyone was waiting, with the cards and poker chips already dealt.

Adrien settled in the seat next to Marinette.

The bluenette shot him a concerned look, “You okay?”

“I’ll be…” Adrien sighed. “Eventually.”

The blond boy decided to chalk up whatever happened on the roof with Nico as… Just the two of them being caught in the moment. Emotions were high.

…That didn’t stop Adrien from smiling every time someone mentioned Nico’s name.

Chat Galore: Everything is possible.

Chat Galore: Even the impossible.

He still wrote Iron’s Kid once every day. Adrien didn’t say much. He just sent a movie quote he liked, just to let Iron’s Kid know he was still there. He was still waiting… if Iron’s Kid ever changed his mind.

Chat Galore: When you can’t look on the Brightside, I will sit with you in the dark.

A month became two.

Chat Galore: In the garden of memory, in the palace of Dreams, that is where you and I shall meet.

Two became three. They figured out who Hawkmoth was. The battle had been epic. Adrien’s father had hesitated when he realized Adrien was Chat Noir, long enough for Ladybug to make the killing shot.

Figuratively anyway.

Ladybug blasted Hawkmoth into a wall. The heroes banded together to remove his miraculous. Then they erased his memory. And then Natalie’s. Of any and all knowledge of magic permanently; defeating Hawkmoth once and for all.

As far as Gabriel knew he was just a recluse workaholic with what barely passed as a decent relationship with his only child.

Adrien was devastated to learn who his father really was. Even so when he discovered the reason behind Hawkmoth’s villainous pursuit; his comatose mother and learned from Fu there was no way to save her; not even with a wish.

The blond boy had long ago mourned his mother and moved on but that it didn’t hurt.

Emilie Agreste was officially declared dead and buried on a sunny Tuesday afternoon in the middle of Spring.

Chat Galore: Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it

Three months became four.

At this point, he knows Iron’s Kid’s never going to write him back. And that was okay. Adrien was okay.

People move on. And while Adrien would always wonder why Iron’s Kid never showed, he could live without knowing.

If anyone asked why he was still writing, Adrien would say he didn’t know.

But that was a lie.

He did know.

Iron’s Kid had been a really big part of his life, had been one greatest friend he ever had; had been his first love in a way.

So yes, Adrien knew exactly why he was still writing.

He could live without Iron’s Kid in his life but he couldn’t live without one thing.

Chat Galore: Here's looking at you kid

Adrien officially graduated from school. He was accepted into Columbia. He’d be living in New York. And so, would Chloe, Marinette, and Nino. They decided they wanted to stick together and keep being heroes.

Chloe would be going to Columbia with him to study business and public relations. Marinette would study business and fashion. Nino decided to dedicate his life to being the next great movie director. Adrien would study Law.

They decided to get two apartments across from each other like in F.R.I.E.N.D.S. Because that was pretty much all they knew about New York.

Damian would be attending Columbia; he was gearing up to take over Wayne Industries one day. Him and Marinette were still going strong. Lian would be going to Princeton, as Oliver Queen would be damned if his granddaughter went anywhere else. Jon would take a year off to explore the world before attending Metropolis University; he still wanted to Major in Journalism.

Damian kept hinting hard that the Titans, not the Teen Titans, were looking for new members. And as he was the current leader of the Titans, it was less of a hint and more like being actively headhunted by the most aggressive Robin to ever walk the earth.

It was official, they weren’t kids anymore.

Chat Galore: You know that place between sleep and awake where you’re always dreaming? That’s where I’ll always love you. That’s where I’ll be waiting.

They had a few months before they had to move completely to New York, and decided to do something special. Or rather Tom and Sabine did.

And mostly because they just wanted to see where their kids would be living from now on.

Sabine and Tom claimed to find this great deal on a ski resort near New York. Everyone was invited; Nico, Kagami, Luka, Aurore, Lian, Jon, and Damian.

They did the whole tourist thing, led by Nico who was excited his cousin would be living in the same city as him and explored the great New York City, and Tom and Sabine got to see the penthouses, Gabriel and Audrey had bought each their perspective children and were assured their kids would be living in a safe location.

Chat Galore: So maybe it won’t look like you thought it would in high school, but it’s important to remember that love is possible. Anything is possible. This is New York

The Brown Bear Ski Lodge was packed, apparently, some class from a school called Midtown had booked a trip at the same time they did. So the entire lodge was filled with graduating seniors, between the ages of seventeen and eighteen years old.

To say it was wild was an understatement. Sabine vocally wondered why the school though three chaperones to watch over an entire class of students were enough. Tom just comforted Mr. Harrison when he started to cry.

Adrien got to meet loads of kids his age, a few that would even be starting at Columbia the same time as the French kids. It turned out most of the kids from Midtown were insanely smart.

The blond boy ended up spraining his ankle while skiing and ended up spending most of the time on sitting on the lodge’s bay window watching nature and relaxing. He ended up sitting there long after nearly everyone else had gone off to bed.

“Having fun,” A boy his age asked, one of the few people left in the room. He was handsome with light brown hair and kind brown eyes.

“As close as I can get,” Adrien answered.

The brown-haired boy smiled, “Well if you get bored out of your mind, I got some movies on my tablet if you want to watch. I know some pretty good ones.”

“I’m good,” Adrien said. “You can join me if you want. I wouldn’t say no to company.”

The boy did, “Name’s Peter.”

“Adrien.”

“By your accent, I’m guessing your not with the Midtown group,” Peter asked. “Also, because I’m from the Midtown group.”

Adrien snorted, “France. I’ll be living full time in New York come autumn.”

“Is that right?” Peter looked excited by the news. “You’re gonna love it.”

“Yeah, and why’s that?”

And then Peter went on to tell Adrien all about the places and people he loved in New York. They talked for hours until morning rays hit them through the window.

Over the next week of the vacation, the two ended up finding themselves repeating that; talking and letting time disappear.

Chat Galore: I wish I knew how to quit you.

Adrien introduced Peter to Marinette, Chloe, Nino, and the others. Peter introduced him to his friends Michelle, Ned, and Gwen. Like Adrien and his friends, Peter and his friends were pretty much attached at the hip.

“He pissed me off, so I put a porn virus into his computer,” Michelle answered the Marinette’s question as to why a Eugene kept running from her.

Marinette and Adrien had decided to enjoy a nice cup of hot chocolate by the fire, only to be joined by Peter’s friends: Michelle and Ned. Another would’ve joined them but he scampered away the second he saw the girl.

“He deserved it,” Michelle added.

“He totally did,” The large Asian boy nodded in agreement. “But MJ you might’ve taken it too far when you made it happen during class.”

Marinette giggled. “Harsh!”

“No mercy, Ned!”

Adrien laughed until his brain processed what was said, “Wait, I thought your name was Michelle?”

Michelle and Ned froze like deer caught in the headlights.

“MJ’s my nickname,” Mj explained cooly. “And we should really be going…”

“Geniuses,” Adrien suddenly recalled; his mind finishing a calculation, he didn’t even realize he was trying to figure out. “Who goes to a school for super-smart kids. MJ, scary queen who could rule the universe,” He pointed at her. “Ned; loveable teddy bear nerd with a fixation on Legos. A bully named Eugene who I’m guessing goes by Flash.” He swallowed hard, and fixed hard green eyes on the two kids in front of him. “Did you take a class trip to Europe in Spring? Keep in mind I would really like you to say no.”

Ned and MJ paled.

“Ned and MJ,” Adrien repeated. “Iron’s Kid’s best friends…” He whispered. “Peter’s best friends. Peter is Iron’s Kid, isn’t he?”

MJ narrowed her eyes at him, “Chat Galore: Adrien Agreste.”

Adrien’s entire body froze. He tried to remain calm, “This can’t be happening.”

Marinette glared at them, “Your friends with Iron’s Kid!” She growled. “Peter is Iron’s Kid. What was he thinking? How could he just stand Adrien up? I’ll kill him!”

“I never told you my last name!” Adrien realized. “How did you?”

“We hacked into Peter’s phone a few months ago,” MJ shrugged. “And traced your Ip address.”

Adrien glared, “And Peter knew? When I got here, he knew who I was didn’t?” He accused. “He lied right to my face!”

“It’s complicated!” Ned looked at Adrien with wide eyes. “Yeah, he knew who you were when he saw you. He just wanted a do-over. It’s weird I know. I told him not to do it!”

MJ looked at Marinette, “You should kill him. It was a bitch move,” She said. “But if it means anything, he regrets not showing up at London’s eye.” This part she told Adrien.

“Like super regrets it!” Ned added. “You can’t beat him up half as much as he does himself.”

“I can try,” Marinette crossed her arms.

“He reads your texts every day,” Mj said.

Adrien stood up angrily, “Then why doesn’t he text back?” He demanded to know. “Why didn’t he show up at the London’s eye. I waited! I’ve been waiting!”

MJ shrugged, “I can’t answer that,” She said. “Only he can. I can only tell you he was stupid. And he overreacted. You deserve to hear everything from him.”

Ned nodded eagerly, “He really likes you. He nearly dropped dead when he saw you were here. Just let him explain!”

“No!” Adrien snapped. “I don’t want to see him. Ever.” He clenched his fists. “I… I just can’t.”

And he stumped away.

He went to his room and packed his bags. He was getting out of there. He was leaving he had nothing to say to Iron’s Kid. Or Peter. Or whoever he was.

There was a knock on his door.

“Go. Away!” Adrien snapped.

“I can’t do that!” It was Jon that surprisingly said that.

“Come in!” The door opened. “What do you want?” Adrien asked. “Sorry, I’m just a bit busy right now.”

Jon wore a red plaid shirt over a white t-shirt and blue jeans, “Don’t leave,” He told Adrien.

“I have to,” The blond said he snuffed his suitcase.

“You can’t!”

Adrien all but snarled, “Look you don’t understand. You don’t get it.” He said. “I have to leave.”

“Yeah I do,” Jon said and shut the door behind him. “Super hearing, remember? I know everything that’s going on. You can’t go, not like this.”

“Yes, I-” The blond started but was cut off.

Jon grabbed his shoulders and sat him on the bed, “You deserve an answer. You’ve been waiting for an answer,” He stated. “You deserve to know why he didn’t show up.”

“And why he decided to mess with me for the last week?!!”

“That I understand!” Jon said. “He wanted to start over. Second chances are hard to come by. And once upon a time, there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have done for one.”

“And you think he deserves one?”

“Just talk to him,” Superboy said. “Or scream at him. Whatever.”

Adrien ran a hand through his hair, “I haven’t been waiting for an answer,” He admitted. “I would’ve liked one, but I wasn’t waiting for it.”

“You love him,” Jon said. “You did. Or do. I know. Because I remember how you used to look when he texted you. I know… Because you used to look like that around me.”

“Jon…”

“I saw you two together,” Jon said. “You’re good together. Leaving now would be a big mistake. I’m saying that as your friend. Meet him, talk to him. Even nothing happens. Or everything does.”

Adrien hid his face in his hands and groaned, “Even if it’s just to reject him?” He crossed his arms. “Wouldn’t it be better to just leave?”

“Not for you,” Jon shook his head. “Look, if you reject him now, he's gonna make it his life's mission to go out there and meet the most perfect, beautiful guy or girl in the world just to try and get over you. And he'll end up marrying this other person and spending the rest of his life with them. And you know, he'll tell himself that they're perfect and... He really must be happy, but they won't be you, you know? And that’s the worst thing that will happen.”

It went quiet.

“Follow your heart, Adrien,” Jon added. “It’s what you do best. And it’s the best thing about you.”

Then the boy of steel left.

And Adrien was alone with his thoughts.

Chat Galore: Relationships are messy and people’s feelings get hurt. Who needs it?

Adrien left. It wasn’t his finest moment and not his bravest. But he left. Because he wasn’t ready to see Peter. Not yet. He texted his friends and tom and Sabine that he was leaving and that he’d okay… eventually.

He’d go back to New York City, leave on the next flight out. He’d back to the big Apple two months later, move into his apartment with Nino, Marinette, and Chloe and start his life there.

Two weeks after that Chloe would get the opportunity of a lifetime, a PR internship for college credit at Stark Industries. The blonde girl invited them all to go on her tour with her; apparently, she was told she could bring friends.

Adrien would frown when he heard but not say anything. Peter wasn’t the only one with friends that could track an IP address.

It was time. No more running.

Stark Tower was everything, the kids all dreamed it would be. A scientist, futuristic wonderland. They oohhh’ed and awed. And Adrien tried to enjoy himself and keep his mouth closed.

Even when the most advanced elevator in the entire world “mysteriously” malfunctioned and took them to the very top floor; otherwise known as the place the Avengers lived.

“Sorry about that,” Tony Stark, himself, gave them his most charming grin when the doors opened and he was standing right there. “We’ll get that fixed right away.” He promised. “Come on kiddies, let me show you where the big kids play.”

He led them to the living room where Captain America was watching TV.

“Hey, babe!” Tony grinned. “This is Chloe, Pepper’s newest intern. Marinette, Nino, and… Adrien.”

“Tony…” Steve Roger gave his husband a chastising look.

“Cap…”

Adrien huffed and glared at the occupants in the room, “Cut the crap,” He ordered them, drawing surprised looks from his friends. “Where’s Peter?” He asked. “Iron’s Kid,” Tony smirked at the name. “Is Peter. Peter Stark-Rogers.”

His friends turned fierce glares at the Avengers.

“It’s a setup!” Chloe accused.

“Heroes are supposed, to be honest,” Marinette chided.

Nino crossed his arms, “What a letdown.”

“Where’s Peter?” Adrien asked again.

“He’s coming,” Tony said. “You three and my hotter than the sun husband come with me; I’ll show you the training room that you can use full time If Ladybug, Queen Bee, Carapace, and Chat Noir decides they wanted to ditch the Justice League and hang with the Major Leagues.”

His friends paled at the fact that Tony Stark and probably all the Avengers knew their superhero identities and followed Iron Man out of the room. Steve just sighed at his husband’s antics and follow him out.

Adrien crossed his arms and waited.

The elevator would ping, and five minutes later Peter would walk into the living room. They just at each other for a few moments.

“I’m sorry,” Peter finally said.

Adrien shook his head, “I don’t want your apologies. I came here… I waited here… for the same reason I’ve waited the last seven months,” He said. “I only waited to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” Peter gave him half a smile. “We’ve only just met.”

Adrien pointed him, “Don’t!” He said. “Don’t quote movies at me.” He snapped. “Why?” Adrien asked. “Why weren’t you there? How could you not be there?!”

“I was!” Peter said. “I was there. I saw you. I was terrified. And I left.”

“I was afraid too!” Adrien said. “The difference is I still showed up. I waited six years to meet you. And I waited at the London’s eye for almost seven hours, and you just left me. You blew me off.”

“I’m sorry!” Peter yelled. “I’m so sorry. It was the biggest mistake of my life.”

Adrien clenched his fists. “Why didn’t you write me back? Why did you pretend at the lodge?”

“I don’t know,” Peter admitted. “I really don’t. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just saw you and my mind just went blank. I thought it was like fate giving me a second chance. I didn’t do it right. I screw up. Again!”

“A second chance?” Adrien glared at him. “You think that was your second chance? No. Your second chance was I texted asking what happened. You got another chance every time I texted you. I texted you every day for six months. Those were your chances!” He yelled. “If it was over for you, you could have told me. Said something. But you left me in the dark. If you didn’t feel the same about me, you could’ve told me. I just wanted my friend back!”

“Adrien, I…”

“Why didn’t you write me back?” Adrien asked, tears burning in his eyes. “Why? It wasn’t over for me. Six months, that’s one hundred and eighty-two days. I wrote you one hundred and eighty-two times. I waited for you! It’s too late now. It’s over!”

Peter looked ready to cry, “I wrote you over three hundred emails. I have them saved on my computer I never sent them. I didn’t think they’d be enough. They’re still not enough. It’s wasn’t over for me. It’s still not over.”

“Why?” Adrien asked again. “Why didn’t Iron’s Kid show up? Why was he so afraid?”

Peter just looked at the blond boy for a moment, before taking a deep breath, “Iron’s Kid thinks about that moment every day. He used to think he didn’t show up because he was afraid of what would happen; that it wouldn’t work out. That he’d lose one his best friends.” He said. “That them being together would ruin everything. Because they were just kids; they were stupid and young. But that was just a lie he told himself because he was afraid. The truth is, He was at the London’s eye that night, he saw Chat Galore: the most perfect person he’d ever seen and got scared for a completely different reason.”

“Why?”

Peter stepped towards Adrien, “Once he figured that out, and he figured that out really quick but only when it was just too late, Iron’s Kid didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say to make it right. So he said nothing. And it killed him every day. Iron’s Kid would give anything to go back to that night at the London’s eye, to back to that moment when they were supposed to meet. Before everything went wrong. Iron’s kid would tell Chat Galore everything he always wanted. But he couldn’t. Because doesn’t work like that. Instead, he was so sorry for what he had done.”

Adrien just listened.

“Because Iron’s Kid realized,” Peter said, “That he wasn’t afraid that night because he thought it wouldn’t work out; that Chat Galore wasn’t the one. He was absolutely terrified because he knew he was. And if Adrien could just give him one more chance. Just one more chance, he’d spend the rest of his making it up to him.”

“Peter…”

“I love you,” Peter said. “I’m totally and completely in love with you. And I don’t care if you think its too late. I’m telling you anyway. Because if I don’t, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. Because I know in my heart, you’re the one for me.”

Adrien just sighed and looked away, wondering what he should do.

“I don’t what’s going to happen in the future,” Peter said. “I don’t if in the time I was an idiot if Jon or Nico or Luka,” He chuckled, and so did Adrien. “Won your heart. I just know… I may not be your first love, but I intend to be your last. However long it takes.”

A smile spread across Adrien’s face, “You watched it,” He said. “You finally watched the Vampire diaries. It only took you, what? Seven years.”

“Six and a half,” Peter corrected. “Sorry I made you wait.”

“I know,” Adrien nodded. “I need some time, okay. I need to get my head on straight. Before I decide anything.”

“I understand,” Peter agreed eagerly. “I get it. I’ll wait.”

Adrien would take two weeks to decide what he was feeling and what he wanted to do. And when the two weeks were over, he knew exactly what he wanted, and who he wanted. So he made a call.

And then ended up a Coney island, next to The Wonder Wheel, one of the most famous Ferris wheels in the world. He waited in line and happily got on the ride. The seats next to him were quickly filled by Marinette, Chloe, and Nino.

“Finally getting your Ferris wheel moment?” Nino asked as the ride started.

Adrien smiled, “Yeah. Except I wanted the people I love the most with me.”

“Awww,” Marinette hugged him. “We love you too.”

“That’s a dollar for the overly sentimental jar,” Chloe glared at him. “And no more rom-com for you.”

Adrien snorted.

The kids enjoyed the ride, and when it was over, and they got off, Marinette asked, “So you didn’t choose anyone?”

“Well…” He motioned to the guy waiting at the exit of the ride. “I wouldn’t say that. I’m done. No more waiting, no more long game, no more… anything. Its time I get a little more proactive.”

Chloe smirked, “About time. Get it, Agreste!”

“Just remember you have a roommate,” Nino smirked.

The three walked off to enjoy the rest of the amusement park.

Adrien smiled at them, and then smirked at the guy waiting for him, “Wait long?”

“I’d wait forever.”

2K notes · View notes

anthropwashere · 4 years

Text

Phic Phight: set the self upon the shelf

Prompt from @five-rivers: Jack and Maddie acquire the pieces of Freakshow's staff.

@currentlylurking @phicphight

Word count: 3,841

In hindsight, Danny should have expected something like this to happen. He'd been on a good streak; a really good streak. No catastrophes, no explosions, no be-all, end-all ultimatums with terrible creatures trying to squeeze the life out of some poor schmuck trying to go about their day. Heck, aside from a few toothy Day-Glo bright beasties waking him up just shy of his alarm and the usual irritation of the Box Ghost haranguing the nearest postal office, things have been easy. There hasn't even been any test to stress out over. So with how his luck usually is, he's overdue for a bad day.

Today's that day, turns out. It's just not so obvious as bad days usually go for him anymore. It's insidious, creeping, sly.

Worst of all, his parents are the ones to blame, and they're not even trying to take Phantom apart molecule by molecule this time.

It's a Wednesday, as dull as any other Wednesday can be, when he unlocks the front door of FentonWorks, leaving it open for Sam and Tucker to come in after him. They're all in the middle of another round of friendly bickering, some he-said she-said I-read-this-article goofing with no stakes or real anger in any of their threats to shut the others up. They're just goofing. Danny locks the door once they're in, punches in the pass code on the panel his parents had installed a couple months back so the trigger-happy security system doesn't take umbrage with whatever-the-hell just strolled in through the front door. Tucker's managed to bamboozle the security somehow—Danny can almost follow along with the concept of coding if Tucker's in the mood to skip the jargon, but sit him in front of a command prompt with nary a word of English to be found and his whole brain just fritzes out in self-defense—and point is, the security recognizes Danny's not very human, but it does the software equivalent of a shrug and dumps the notifications into a hidden folder his parents would need to get real creative finding.

He means to lead them to the stairs to dump their backpacks off in his bedroom before raiding the kitchen. The Box Ghost had decided to ruin lunch today instead of Algebra, like a jerk, and Danny's starving as a consequence of his sandwich ending up on the floor and burning up a ton of energy chasing the idiot around the entire school six times. He's trying not to laugh as Sam keeps up her rant on how unreliable sad nerds on forums are for relaying what cocaine-addled movie producers in LA may or may not have agreed to, when Tucker says, "Danny?"

"Yeah?"

"Where you going?"

Danny blinks. He's halfway down the stairs to his parents' lab. He didn't even notice. "Uh," he says, turning around. Sam and Tucker are still on the top step, raising identical eyebrows at him. "Sorry. Habit."

"BG can wait, dude. I didn't get to eat either."

"Ha. Right."

They go upstairs, Sam picking up her rant again on the second-floor landing. They drop their bags off in his room and tromp downstairs again. Danny flicks the light switch on as he passes through the doorway to the—

"Danny?"

He blinks. Halfway down to the lab again, and he'd been sure he was in the kitchen this time. He swallows, putting on a sheepish grin for his friends as he trots back up to them again. Tucker looks amused so he almost thinks he's gotten away without worrying them, but one look at Sam tells him to dump that hope in the trash and forget about it. Her painted mouth is downturned and distinctly worried. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he says. The funny thing is, it's not even a lie. "Why?"

She hesitates, then shakes her head. So he's not worrying her enough that she needs to make a parade of it. That's good. That's great. All he wants to focus on right now is microwaving the entire box of taquitos his Dad snuck into the grocery cart the last time his parents went shopping, and then eating it as fast as half-humanly as possible.

Jazz comes home while they're all splayed out in the kitchen, poking her head in to say hi and ask if he needs any cover stories drummed up with lunch having been so chaotic. "Nah," he assures her, "I'll just dump the Box Ghost into the Portal after Mom and Dad go to bed. Thanks, though."

"Patrol tonight?"

"Always."

"Let me know when you head out?"

"Sure."

She smiles at him warmly, and not for the first time is Danny glad to have her in on his secret. She's overbearing and controlling and way, way too worried about rule-breaking, but still. It's nice. He trusts her, he loves her, and he gets no small amount of delight at having her in on all the ridiculous excuses he concocts for his parents. He has no idea how he managed so long without her helping him keep his secret.

"Don't let him do anything stupid," she tells Sam and Tucker. Tucker gives her a mock-salute without looking up from his phone.

"That's a tall order," Sam says with a roll of her eyes. Danny elbows her. She elbows him right back, and hers are sharp.

Jazz laughs so hard she snorts. It's a sure sign she's comfortable around Danny's friends, which is a lovely relief all on its own. For all that they don't talk much about not-ghost stuff, Danny knows she's struggled to make friends for a long time, knows she's lonely, knows she's just as happy to be included in all the Phantom business as he is to have her there beside him. She waves a touch sarcastically at them and goes off to her own room, presumably to be a good straight-A student and do all her homework for the rest of the month somehow.

Whatever. Danny's got a full-sized mountain of taquitos to plough through and nothing the least bit life-threatening on his radar for the foreseeable future. That's as sure to change in the next five minutes as it always is. He's used to having a tight knot of panic clenched around his heart and/or the funny little cold spot where his ghostly core leaks through to his human side. He's always on edge, always ready for something. It's half the reason he can't remember the last time he got a decent night's sleep, too stressed to do more than toss restlessly in his bed until the wee hours, and the proper ghosts all seemed to have unanimously decided that five a.m. is the best time ever to come charging through the Portal to cause a little pre-dawn havoc.

"Danny?"

He blinks, and he's halfway down the stairs to the lab again.

He licks his lips, swallowing nervousness. He... he doesn't even remember leaving the kitchen. He looks over his shoulder to find Sam and Tucker up on the top step again, equal amounts of concern furrowing their brow. Down in the lab he hears his parents' voices, just low enough that he can't make out individual words over the heady thrum of the Ghost Portal. "Uh," he says.

"Something's wrong," Sam says. it's not a question.

"I'm okay," he says automatically. "Really. Not lying. Just... I dunno. Let's go upstairs."

They go upstairs. Danny plows through his taquitos as originally intended, relaying through rude mouthfuls that he really does feel fine, totally normal (for him, shut up Tucker). He doesn't think he's losing time or anything as worrying as that. He's just... going through the motions so much that he doesn't even notice when he misses his mark.

Sam and Tucker do not like the sound of that, but he convinces them to let it lie. His parents are probably just working on some new gadget. He'll take a look at the lab later tonight. It's not like it feels evil or anything. It doesn't even hurt, which considering the trend of ghost hunting gizmos they've drummed up the last few months is a welcome change of pace. It's fine, really. He's fine, really.

"If you're sure," Tucker says, doubtful.

"I am. Give it a rest, will ya?"

They do, and they reluctantly bunker down to make a decent dent in their homework so they won't have to worry about it in that anxious gray waiting after dinner with their families and before they can sneak out for patrol. Normal kids do their homework after dinner. Not them. They're halfway between valedictorian and delinquent in their habits, toeing the line between abandoning homework entirely and only keeping up with it as best they can to avoid any unnecessary eyes. Danny can't afford the extra attention.

The afternoon wanes, evening looming like an executioner's axe—Sam and Tucker are all too aware of how long they've gone without a proper catastrophe too—and sooner than they'd prefer it's time to part ways. Sam and Tucker gather up their things and hide away their patrol schedules and the like in the hollow space in Danny's ceiling as per usual. Then the three of them tromp down the stairs again to dump their plates in the sink and pay lip service to a goodnight until tomorrow in case Danny's parents are around. They're not at first glance, or at second glance for that matter, but better safe than sorry. Danny starts to follow them to the door, uneasy of the doorway down the lab yawning like a mouth, and this time he feels it—

(come here)

—but there's nothing for it. Knowing he's being bidden down the basement doesn't stop him from swiveling on his heel to start down the polished stairs. It's only Sam's quick reaction that stops him only two steps down, her hand a firm vice on his bent elbow.

"Yeah," he says, a little breathless with surprise. "Felt it that time."

"Only that time?" Tucker asks in a tone firmly detailing how little he likes the sound of that.

Danny looks over his shoulder to nod at them both. "It doesn't hurt," he reminds them. "It's okay. I can handle—whatever it is they're doing down there."

"Tell Jazz," Sam says, which is surprising enough that Tucker gawks at her too. It's not like she and Jazz get along, after all. Danny promises, too surprised to scoff or tease her for worrying over nothing. Maybe that should've been a warning sign too.

He waves them off at the door, locking it and punching in the code again with a habit so well-honed he doesn't even think about it, and before he knows it he's blinking harsh neon green light out of his eyes. Down in the basement, and he only remembers walking down the stairs after the fact.

"Danny-boy!" His dad shouts with his usual boisterous energy from over near one of the examination tables. His mom's off at one of the far counters, bent over a heavily modified microscope. Both of them have their hoods up, and Danny has to swallow a shiver when his dad looms too close. Something about the goggles always reminds him of how a praying mantis' eyes bulge; charmingly goofy right up until it snatches its prey up in its scythe-like forearms.

"H-hey, Dad."

"Whoa, is it that late already? Baby cakes, it's almost six!"

His mom straightens up with a murmured groan as her back pops audibly. Her red-lipped smile ratchets right up into something uncanny and wrong without her eyes visible to soften the bright flash of teeth. "Is it? Oh, hell, I completely forgot to take the hamburgers out to thaw. Danny—hi, sweetie—do you mind calling in take-out? Your choice."

"Uh. Sure, no problem." Funny. Never mind the taquitos he devoured an hour ago, he's always on the cusp of starving. Ghost powers or puberty, or both. He doesn't know and it doesn't really matter so long as nobody notices how much he puts away without gaining an ounce. He casts a wide glance around the lab, feigning bored curiosity, hoping to find some strange new device with his dad's face stickered all over it that will explain this weird urge demanding he be down here—

—and feels his heart and core both stutter at the sight of what's laid beneath his dad's broad hands.

"What," he chokes out. It's all he can manage. His usual anxiety—something's coming, something will come for him, any moment now, any moment, soon soon soon—transmogrifies into a full-blown panic attack so fast he feels the air in his lungs literally, genuinely freeze. He clenches his jaw against the coughing fit threatening to expose him as wrong, pointing at the long black staff laid on the table instead.

"Oh, this? You're never gonna believe it, Dann-o." His dad beams at him, proud of his work and glad his son's taking an interest in it. "We got a call yesterday on the 800 number. Some hiker found this thing absolutely covered in little ghosts down in Little Grand Canyon and figured this thing oughta have a proper once over from us instead of being left to lie where the river'd dumped it."

"It appears to generate a frequency too high for humans to perceive," his mom chimes in, walking over to join them at the table. She shoos a small sparrow-looking ghost away with naked disgust curling her mouth; it goes sailing on stiff wings off to settle on a sturdy crate off in one corner, red eyes leaving streaking after-images as it twists and ducks its little head, taking in all the strangeness of the lab. Danny pretends as hard as he can that he can't hear it asking, where am i? where am i?

"That's right," his dad confirms, plucking the staff up with a frivolous little twirl that has his mom swatting his shoulder with a laugh. "There must have been thirty birds and snakes and the like swarming all over this thing when we got there this morning. We had to melt the lot of them to get our hands on this thing, and we've got no idea yet what got them so interested in this thing."

"At first glance it's only a simple iron-wrought staff," his mom says, tugging it free from his dad's hands to display the detailed bat at its top and the glittering shards of crimson-colored glass running down its back. "But see this glass? There's a tremendous amount of energy emitting from it—harmless to humans, don't worry. But that bird's the seventh ghost we've seen since we brought this thing down here. Something about the frequency is compelling to ghosts. They have to come see what's going on. Although why they feel such a compunction or what this thing's original purpose was is beyond me...."

In the back of Danny's mind he hears an echo of an echo of Freakshow's voice urging him on. (take it. bring it back to me. come home. come home to me.)

"Yeah," he manages thinly. "Weird."

They ramble on for a while, too giddy to have him showing an interest in their work to recognize that his interest stems from something adjacent to terror. He musters a rictus grin, nodding like some wall-eyed bobblehead toy when they look to him for input. All the while the beady red eyes of the bat on the staff burn his skin like lit cigarettes, like brands, like red-hot manacles he might not be able to shake this time.

(come here,) the staff bids him, its voice so gentle it could his own mind assuring him that this is the best idea he's ever had. (take me. bring me home. bring me to him. it will all be so much better once we're his again.)

"Dinner," he chokes out eventually, backing away toward the stairs. "I should—order. Order. Dinner. Pizza?"

"Sounds good to me," his dad says cheerfully. "You know what I like."

"My wallet's in the kitchen," his mom adds.

(stay,) the staff says. (take me. bring me home.)

"Nngh," he says, nodding dutifully. He doesn't know who to. It takes far more effort to climb the stairs this time, his grip white-knuckled on the banister, his gaze reluctantly dragged away from the basement and up to the living room. Once there he blinks, feeling the tug of the staff fade to something slight again. He can ignore it up here, but now that he knows what it is he can't stop hearing-feeling it.

(come here,) it urges. (downstairs. i'm here. take me back. take me home. come home with me—)

He slaps his hands over his ears (for all the good it does), and stomps over to the kitchen where the landline is. Pizza. He. He's gotta order dinner. His parents will suspect him if he doesn't do this one perfectly normal thing.

He dials. He orders. He fumbles around his mom's wallet for her debit card. He manages a stammered apology to the person on the line, who laughs indulgently and tells him "No worries!" in a tone that says she knows how young he is just by his voice. Underestimating him. Simple human. Stupid human. He could show her how wrong she is. He should show her. Scare her. Make her scream. Hurt her—

He drops the phone, breathing heavily.

Shit.

"Hello?" The girl's tinny voice asks uncertainly, a hundred miles away at his feet.

He picks the phone up. "S-sorry. Anyway, the number's...."

He finishes the order. The girl on the phone tells him to expect the driver to arrive in about 45 minutes. He makes a few incomprehensible noises that might translate to something like a thank you if the girl happens to feel real generous. He's never calling this pizza place again.

Once the phone's back on the receiver he bolts up through the ceiling, straight up to the roof, past the Ops Center, up up up until he feels the final sticky thread of the staff let him go, until he's skirting the scraggly cloud cover and thinking clearly enough to realize he really ought to ditch visibility while he's up here trying to figure out what the fuck he's gonna do next.

Freakshow's in jail.

Freakshow doesn't have the staff.

Freakshow can't control him now. He can't. He can't.

It's the staff. Just the staff down there, and whatever about it that makes it so—intoxicating? Smothering? Comforting?

He's far enough away that it's easy to recoil from that. It's not a comfort. It's not. It's not easy, or gentle, or good. It's piano wire tugging on his joints, turning his mind to so much waterlogged cotton. There's no knowing what the staff would do to him without someone at the metaphorical wheel. Just because what he remembers from when Freakshow controlled him is a warm, soft cocoon doesn't make it right. He put humans—people—in the hospital. He stole thousands of dollars worth of jewelry from eight different stores in six days. He nearly killed Sam.

These are things he knows because he was told them secondhand. He read articles, watched news reports, listened to Sam shakily try to convince him that she was okay, really, just as he'd done to her a hundred times before.

But the truth of the matter is this: he has no concrete memories of that week spent under Freakshow's thumb. He remembers warmth, and rightness, and glee. He remembers feeling a good so giddy it might be better than any description of any drug he's ever heard of. He knows the comedown was hard, and disorienting, and cold, and that he couldn't shake the ring of Freakshow's laughter in his ears for weeks. He knows that the majority of him hated every minute of not being himself. He knows that nine-tenths of him still feels a touch unclean in a way he doesn't know how to voice to Sam and Tucker, to know that he did those things without any semblance of self, and that last little part of him reveled in just... letting go. Running wild. In doing things for the fun of it and not caring at all about consequences, because what did consequences matter to a ghost?

There's a very, very tiny part of himself that wishes for the freedom of that feeling. Yoked and manacled in the sticky, impossible-to-resist way of magic, but free from the burdens of Danny Fenton. No expectations, no future, no what-ifs, no curfews, no algebra. Just Phantom. Just free to do whatever he pleases.

Skittishly he looks down at FentonWorks a thousand feet below, unsure if he's put enough distance between himself and the staff, unsure if he can trust his own thoughts yet. He doesn't know. He doesn't think there's any way to know for sure.

What should he do?

What can he do?

Just being within easy reach of the staff puts prickles all down his spine, numbs his hands and feet and tongue. He broke it. That's how he got free of Freakshow. He dropped it to save Sam because she was more important, and it broke, and now he's free. He's free. He is.

Maybe the orb-thing wasn't the source.

Maybe....

He doesn't know.

He can't let his parents keep it. That much he does know. If they figure out how to utilize it, even at a fraction of what Freakshow was capable of, then there'd be no winning. Phantom could barely fight it with Sam begging for her life right in front of him, and that was with a stranger at the reins. If his mom or dad told him to come down to the lab and lay down on an examination table....

He can't.

What can he do?

His hip buzzes, so unexpected he drops twenty feet before catching himself with a yelp. His first instinct is that it's an attack, and he switches to Phantom and throws up a shield faster than thought, twisting around in the dark trying to find the source, trying to see who's coming for his throat next—

It's his phone. A text. That's all. No more, no less.

He changes back, not trusting his shaky hands with gloves on. It's from Jazz, asking where he's at. He calls her back, and she answers on the third ring.

"Hey, Danny," she says, relief audible in her voice. "Was there a ghost?"

"Uh-uh," he says. "Worse. Jazz, I—I need a favor."

"What was that? You broke up."

"Oh. Uh. Hang on." He drops hundreds and hundred of feet in free fall, watching the Ops Center racing up to meet him, all its floodlights swiveling round and round on automated patterns. He halts on a dime, far faster than any human could endure, and feels only an irritating tug on his bones as he swivels to find balance again. "Can you hear me now?"

"Yeah, that's better. What's up?"

He takes a deep breath. "I need a favor. A really, really big one."

#my writing #danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2020

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trickstermelon · 5 years

Note

may I please request a doodle of the asl trio and acesan headcannons-

The doodle is in progress! In the meantime...

So Many Acesan HCs (a lot of these are inspired by @beeforce ilu kite)

- While Ace was traveling with the crew to Alabasta him and Sanji just sort of Clicked, spending ridiculous amounts of their free time chatting together for people who just met. Since both their sleeping patterns are unusual, it wasn’t uncommon to find them in the kitchen at the crack of dawn giggling over tea, Ace insisting on helping prep breakfast

- Ace is 100% Sanjis first crush on a dude so he had some processing to go through that’s a different wormcan

- Sanji was nervous but Absolutely got his number before Ace had to leave, and hogs the phone c o n s t a n t l y

- Lucky for him Ace calls, while inconsistently, for hours whenever he manages to get the time. They love to swap stories about the dumb things they��ve gotten themselves into

- Ace sends a BUNCH of ingredients and little trinkets whenever the crew actually knows where they’re going. While he finds little things for all of them, Ace specifically looks for the weirdest sounding teas and ingredients he can grab for Sanji to try. Whenever the packages get in and they manage to line up the time, the crew will call up Ace to catch up and do little unwrapping parties—

- But once they’ve settled down and the kitchen gets quiet, Sanji takes the time to puzzle the ingredients together while they idly chat, and steep the tea. Ace keeps some of the blends for himself after the joke that if Sanji was going to willingly eat whatever poison Ace picked up off the streets of god knows where, Ace had to at least be decent enough to go down with him

- They drink together, Ace cackling at some of Sanji’s over the top criticisms while he gets onto Sanji for being unwilling to try the ones distilled from peppers— just enjoying their connection across thousands of miles

- Usopp and Nami are the worst teases about Sanjis not so secret crush, regularly bullying him about staring wistfully into the sunset every now and then. Nami particularly loves to hear him go on romantic tangents because 1) it gets him off her back 2) she thinks it’s genuinely adorable 3) has Lowkey been in touch with Ace too so could use it as blackmail at any moment

- (Luffy meanwhile did not pick up on it until Zoro made a jab about it)

- Meanwhile some of the Whitebeard crew (esp Whitebeard himself) are half convinced Ace and Sanji are already engaged the way Ace tends to croon on about him

- Sanji actually asked Ace out before the other got the chance, on accident too, because Sanji ends most his calls with “Love you” by habit

- You wouldn’t think it off the bat but Ace is highkey Lowkey the more romantic of the two simply because he’s unabashed about his feelings + recognized them for what they are much faster

- Ace is very much accustomed to casual touch and being handsy as a form of love— they had to work out boundaries quickly. Sanji just isn’t used to nonviolent physical contact from other guys. Though being around Luffy and Usopp has helped him relax a bit, Ace is a whooooole other level of PDA

-Since Ace has sooooome (just a feeeew) self worth + rejection issues, he took Sanji getting tense and unresponsive to his more forward flirting harder than intended n was moody for a bit. But they worked it out after some difficult conversations. Ace wants him to be comfortable as much as he wants to show his affection and Sanji more than makes up for his awkwardness in public by being a total cuddlebug when they’re alone

- Now /later/. Whoo boy later. When Sanji is confident in himself and Ace is secure in the fact that Sanji loves him and isn’t lying. They are. The MOST OBNOXIOUS couple

- Always have to be touching somehow, Sanji is really fond of sneaking a hand into Ace’s back pockets while Ace is all but draped over his shoulders, Ace using him as a chin rest frequently while they argue over little things

- U would not believe they’d only been dating for a few months they fit together so easily

- Ace is really fond of nicknames and calls Sanji all the classics like babe/darling/hon— but some of his faves are snickerdoodle, lemon / tart, and sugarsnap

- (He defiantly greets Sanji with a regular “Howdy stranger” thank you @cowboyzoro)

- Sanji is the opposite— when he’s being sassy or teasing he likes to use a sharp ‘Portgas’, but he manages to fit so much love and affection into such a short name that Ace is overwhelmed every time he says his name untethered

(Sanji: yeah I was chatting with ♥️♥️♥️♥️Ace♥️♥️♥️♥️ and—

Usopp: how the fuck did you do that with your mouth)

- He did spend a week or two trying to come up w something cutesy but realized that he likes Ace’s name just how it is

- (Tho Ace also really likes when he gets affectionally insulting + is impressed by his creative curses)

- Ace got Sanji the gentlecook shirt— he also likes to snatch it back time to time because Sanji gets occasionally grumpy that Ace owns no hoodies for him to steal. The shoulders have become very stretched out

- Whenever Sanji gets cramps Ace is his living hot water bottle—

- Ace frequently compares him to a cat because he runs cold and is constantly trying to steal Aces warmth either way

- They like. Planning impossible missions together just as thought exercises. Ace has drawn up actual maps and plans of attack for some of the biggest banks in the 4 seas just cause he and Sanji were bored

I have. So many AUs with them too. Including but not limited to:

- Modern College AU of course, where they’re long distance flirting. Both can’t decide if it’s too early to travel a few thousand miles to make out (and other hard choices)

- TattooArtist!Ace where Usopp *really* wants a piece done by a popular artist outside of town, but is too chicken for the needles. Sanji agreed to go with him as morale, planning on getting something small and stupid just so Usopp will feel better, but somehow ends up planning a whole sleeve just so he can keep visiting the cute artist

- A timeline in which Sanji could not escape his fate as a Vinsmoke and became an assassin— only he finds himself unable to carry out his mission when he meets the infamous pirate prince

- CANT say no to a good ol camp councilor AU— this ones mostly for ensemble shenanigans and Nami being mischievous

I always wanna rant about hcs + dumb AUs so hmu anytime

#acesan #hcs #portgas d ace #blackleg sanji #was gonna try to put the doodle with this but i have so. little time

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amberlynnmurdock · 4 years

Text

Library Series (Part 12)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Chapter Summary: It has been a week since Matt’s date with you.

AO3 LINK

Library Series Masterlist

11:36pm. FRIDAY.

Cold. Brisk, Autumn cold. Stinging on the open wounds of his hands. Stinging? What’s that metallic smell? Blood.

White noise. Matt can’t focus on anything but the bloody man beaten to a pulp that lay in front of him, coughing up blood. Matt’s shaking. How could he have done this? Did he just do this?

Yes, of course he did. The fact that it came so easy to him frightens Matt. It was so easy to attack the man. So easy to wrap an arm around his neck–not so easy to get him on the ground and to confess what he has done, no. It wasn’t easy to hear the first plea to stop, and most of all, it wasn’t easy for Matt to listen to him.

But here he was, and Matt was shocked to feel so accomplished… unsettled, about this, but why? Was he wrong? Was he the devil in this?

Was he?

Who is Matt Murdock?

ONE WEEK AGO.

Matt stays put until he hears the door of your dorm unlock, and then lock, and then he stops listening when he hears Marci squeal, “So! How’d it go?”

And Matt walks himself home–nothing heavy in his heart.

He takes a deep breath and thinks to himself, what a night. He couldn’t believe he managed to pull off some story about him being nervous and acting weird all for the sake of keeping you safe from those two punks. And though Matt is relieved that nothing happened to you, it doesn’t change the fact that he lied to you. “Story”, Matt laughed at himself. You lied.

Matt didn’t have another choice, he supposed. You’d think he’s crazy if he told you the truth about his abilities. Oh, what a great topic of conversation for a first date. “Yeah, by the way, you want to know how I became blind? From a toxic liquid that took away my sight, but gave my other senses a 1000x boost. I can hear your heart beat and I can tell when you lie to me. I also know how long ago you put your perfume on.” What a nightmare, Matt thought.

Matt did what he had to do. He acted quick on his feet and got you out of there without causing a scene–er, well, he did spill that waiter’s food. But… he did what he had to do. It was either spilt soup or you getting hurt.

He doesn’t know why he chose Fogwell’s to go to. Of all places, Matt’s first instinct was to take you to Fogwell’s. He thinks it’s because that place was always a safe haven for him, so, when in danger… Fogwell’s. It felt right to take you there and to maybe give you at least some truth for the night.

Matt takes his time walking home. He doesn’t think he wants this night to end. After all, he does like you very much. You’re sweet and concerned and you hold your own. He doesn’t have to hear your heartbeat to know you’ve just entered a room. Matt likes that. Matt likes you.

Matt lets the sounds of the night fill his ears. He hears taxis pass each other and the chef of a pizza place kiss his teenage nephew on the cheek for mastering how to make the base of a pizza. He hears the doors of a flower shop open and close and now he smells… daisies.

He hears the sound of a silver chain tingle around someone’s neck. He hears that person grow uncomfortable with it.

A woman is walking around the corner of a street. She’s rushing to get home safe.

“Don’t fucking move!” a male voice hisses.

Matt stops in his tracks. He listens for movement but hears nothing. There’s no one surrounding him. He’s alone, walking on the path from your dorm to his. He doesn’t want to confuse the sounds of night with someone right behind him. If there were.

“Oh, my God, please” a woman shrieks. The same woman rushing to get home, Matt thinks. Matt focuses on the sound of her voice, since it was louder than the first hiss he heard.

“Don’t you fucking move!” the first voice shouts louder. A man. The man moves something that makes a tingle–the man with the silver chain.

“Please, please!” the woman cries, “I’ll give you anything!” She’s a young woman, Matt identifies by hearing her voice more clearly now.

“Shut the fuck up,” the man spits. He’s older. 35. Thick New York accent.

Matt turns around. Their voices were coming from outside the campus gates on the other side of the street. A block down.

Matt gasps. He’s trying to think quick, but he doesn’t know what to do. He’s frozen. Numb. A bystander.

“Hey, man,” a voice right next to him startles Matt, “you good?”

Tall, strong voice, young, clasps a hand on Matt’s shoulder that Matt nearly hits off out of habit. Frat boy. Matt’s age.

“Yeah,” Matt mumbles, “just taking a breath.”

“Okay,” the guy chuckles. “You need–er–help getting to your dorm?” He asks Matt, noticing Matt’s cane.

“No, I’m–“

A loud bang rings in Matt’s ears which causes him to stop his sentence short. Matt takes a step forward and momentarily forgets the frat guy is still there, and bumps into him.

“Hey, man, seriously, you good?” He asks again. Matt is speechless. He hears the woman cry out in pain. At least she was still alive. But severely hurt.

“Listen, I’m fine, just–“

“Wait a sec, are you–are you high. man?” The frat boy starts to laugh, “Jesus, you go, dude.” His voice was booming in Matt’s ear, which made it hard for Matt to listen to what was going on beyond the campus.

“I’ll leave you to it dude, jeez,” the frat boy laughs his way off, walking away from Matt.

Matt finally takes a deep breath and listens for the woman, who is still crying. Unfortunately, from her cries and people coming to her help, it seems like the robber got away.

“I saw him go down 95th,” she cries to a stranger who had called the police.

“The police are coming, okay, miss?” a man who was helping the woman said. He was about 65, Matt could tell.

“Dammit,” Matt mutters under his breath. You could have done something.

But, could he have really?

Matt may have heightened senses, but he doesn’t have super speed. Even if he wanted to help, he wouldn’t have ran out of campus fast enough. Plus, he was still in his street clothes. He can’t be recognized for trying to disarm a robber, or, whatever you wanted to call it. People would think it’s crazy… he’s crazy. What’s a blind man doing to stop a New York robbery and shooting in the street?

LATER, 12:32 am. SATURDAY.

Matt arrived back to his dorm to a snoring Foggy. A comforting sound to end the night with, Matt thinks.

In bed, Matt is restless. Matt is getting trapped in his own thoughts. When one thought makes sense, another comes in uninvited crushing the whole thing.

He’s thinking about you and how he lied to you tonight. He’s thinking about how close the two of you were in danger tonight from those two men who followed you. Matt shivers at the thought.

He’s thinking about the woman he could have helped if he just decided to do anything–but that was the thing, what could he do?

The man who shot her walked off so easily. Without a doubt, without an ounce of fear. Not any fear that young woman could have felt. That man felt no remorse walking off with, what, an extra fifty bucks in his pocket?

It disgusted Matt. It infuriated him. And there’s no way he was staying in this bed knowing that he could find that same man and teach him his own lesson.

1:15 am.

New York City sure is much, much colder at night. Even if it’s not winter yet, somehow that brisk autumn air has just enough crunch to make Matt shiver even in his black sweatshirt, black long sleeve, black pants, and even black hat.

He creeps along the street outside Columbia University and makes his way down to where the crime scene happened not even two hours ago. He hears police tape rustling in the wind.

Matt backs himself up against the brick building near the crime. The police were still there questioning the man who helped the young woman. She had already been taken to the hospital for her wound. She was shot in the side of her stomach.

“I didn’t even see the guy,” the older man said, “but the young girl, like she said, he went down 95th. Took off like no one’s business, so casually.”

“We are going to Metro-General tomorrow to ask her questions. But thank you for your help sir, and sorry this happened so close to your convenient store,” a police officer said.

“Hey, what cannya do? That’s New York,” the man said. It shouldn’t be New York, Matt thought to himself.

“Have a good night, sir,” the police officer said.

Matt cursed to himself. Well, the only piece of information he has is that the man went down 95th, but then, where else? What then after that?

The only thing Matt could do was go and figure it out on the way. He couldn’t hold himself back even if he wanted to. It was as if this whole thing was drawing him in even more as the seconds went by. He craved to find that man like a predator hunting its prey.

Matt creeps up along side the building before he slips into darkness, slips into the less busy side of town and walks onto the pavement of 95th.

It’s quiet. That’s the first thing he notices at the apartment building he has stopped in front of. People are shutting their televisions off. Someone is putting a cup of noodles cup in the microwave–Matt has to pick more up for him and Foggy–someone else is organizing their closet and–someone else is… Matt tunes that out. All of this is useless. All of it is just white noise.

Maybe if he had just immediately thrown his shirt over his head and dashed for the crime, that woman wouldn’t have to be getting stitches in her stomach. That man would not have got away. Matt wouldn’t be freezing out here.

Something fills his nose. A thick smoke that wafts from around the corner. Matt, for whatever reason, is drawn to it and follows the scent.

It is cigarette smoke, one of the worst smells for Matt to come in contact with. Too much of it around him can cause Matt to become so dizzy, he’ll have to stop whatever he’s doing and sit down. But not this time.

“Yeah, man, I fled the scene so fast. I was smart this time, just shot, won, and then went,” a thick New York accent brags.

“Really? Did you get the money still?” another asks.

“Nah, I’m picking it up Wednesday. Tony said the next game of Texas Holdem will be then. But the guys was so mad I won, that’s why I left. Never know with those punks from downtown.”

Matt hit his palm to his face and sighed in frustration. It was too good to be true.

Crestfallen, Matt begins to walk down the street, feeling defeated. He really had as much information as the police did.

It wasn’t enough. This all felt like a crossword puzzle with a million words to solve.

It was late, Matt thought. If he stayed out any longer, the chances of Foggy waking up and noticing Matt not there would go up and up. Matt decided to call it a night and headed back to Columbia University.

SUNDAY.

It’s late again. And Matt is back in his black clothes, lingering on a fire escape of an abandoned building on 95th street.

He felt crazy going this length. He’s now stalking the city on a ledge waiting to hear something that could lead him to the robber from the other night? Yeah, he felt crazy. But the drive inside of him kept him up at night and he would never forgive himself if he didn’t at least continue to try.

Turns out, this part of the city isn’t quite so noisy on a Sunday at 11 at night.

He hears the same people that he did the other night. Television, soup, all the same. He’s not suspicious of any of those people in the building but he needs to listen, in case of, well, anything. Anything that could lead him to his target.

People down below on the street walk smoothly and quietly. Cars pass by on the main road. Rain begins to fall lightly. Matt doesn’t mind.

“You’re crazy for comin’ back here,” a man’s voice is heard from down the street. Matt tilts his head to where the voice comes from.

“It’s smart. I blend in. Nobody saw me that night except for her. They don’t even know what I sound like,” a thick New York accent replies.

Matt moves from the top of the fire escape he’s on to one below him. He leans over the railing with two fists. He holds his breath.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy man. And so close to a Ivy League.”

“That’s where I wanna go next. So many rich bitches, I don’t give a fuck.”

The man grunts and tugs on a chain around his neck uncomfortably. Matt recognizes the sound and almost leaps over the ledge, but stops. A car pulls up quickly.

“My ride’s here. Gotta bring this all to the boss downtown,” the man says.

“You be careful out there, buddy. But I know you won’t be.”

And with one swift motion into the car, the door closes. And just like that, Matt’s threat is gone.

LATER.

Walking back to his dorm, Matt feels slightly hopeful. And slightly unsure about this whole plan. Or, lack thereof. What was he planning on doing once he was able to get to that man? He had no idea. He just wanted to catch him.

The law hasn’t found this guy yet, but Matt is so close on this guy’s tail that he can feel the anticipation rise in his chest, like an inflating balloon–slowly, until it grows so big, all that anticipation pops and–Matt doesn’t know what he’d do.

He could leave an anonymous tip at the police station. But what good would come of that? The police will get the guy, he’ll get a lawyer, and get a shitty sentence that won’t last more than 3 months. That’s not enough. Not enough for Matt, not enough for that woman. Not enough to put an end to things like this.

And who was that boss that the man was talking about?

There was something bigger going on here. Matt had to find out.

Lavender. Vanilla.

Matt’s head jerks up to the pitch black sky but right in front of your dorm building.

Oh. Shit.

Okay, it’s not like Matt forgot about you per say… just with this crime he overheard and his growing obsession with getting this guy, it might have slipped his mind. It’s nothing personal, maybe he should have called right when he got home after the fact but… he witnessed–er, heard?–a woman get shot. It was a lot for Matt to process, especially since he didn’t do anything about it. Especially after his crazy date with you.

It’s complicated, Matt thought.

But that wasn’t fair to you.

He wonders if you have noticed his absence. It’s been, what, two days?

Well, he is curious to see if you’re up…

“What’s wrong, boo-boo?” Marci’s cheerful voice asks.

“It’s…”

Matt has to compose himself after hearing your voice for the first time in what feels like forever. Something nice to hear, rather than the violence and blood on the streets of New York. Comfort.

“Matt.”

Matt freezes when he hears his name, and then it slowly dawns on him that he should not be eavesdropping and now he suddenly feels like a real stalker but he can’t help but–

“He still hasn’t texted me yet. And I’m totally not about to text him because, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Marci agreed.

“I just don’t get this. We went on one date and I’m already getting these mixed signals and–and it’s not good and it’s not what I signed up for, Marc. Mixed signals should be like, the third date, right?”

“Wrong. If the person really likes you, there shouldn’t be any mixed signals at all. Maybe Matt’s just a douchebag.”

Matt winces. Way to sell me, Marci…

“But he isn’t. That’s the thing. Matt is genuinely a nice guy,” you say back. Matt smiles.

“Oh sure, they’re all nice in the beginning. Until they have you on a leash and do whatever they feel, whenever they feel,” Marci argues.

Leash? These are not Matt’s intentions at all. How could Marci assume all of this about Matt? He would never do this to you. He would never just treat you like a doll.

“I don’t know,” you say. You sound sad. And it’s Matt’s lack of actions that are causing it.

“Listen, boo. Don’t call him. Don’t text him. If he texts you, give it a day. Or call him out right away. I don’t know, you’re a journalism major, aren’t you supposed to be confrontational?”

“Actually, objective. Confrontation are for lawyers, like you. Apparently Matt hasn’t learned that, yet, however,” you giggle. Matt smirks, only because it’s coming from you.

“Seriously, though. I know it sucks but, you can’t be weak for him.”

“I know.”

Matt tunes out after that. Maybe he will text you tonight… but he’d only be doing it because he heard your conversation with Marci. And that’s wrong. And doesn’t feel genuine. Fuck, he really fucked this up, didn’t he?

Matt’s been needing to get his shit together his entire life. And he’ll do that for you.

Tonight is not that night.

10:30pm. FRIDAY.

While Matt’s been gathering as much information on this suspect of his all week, by sneaking out past midnight and overhearing conversations, he’s learned enough that this guy is not as smart as he thinks. Or, Matt just has an advantage here.

The man who Matt learned his name, Neil, is working for someone that he only refers to as “The Boss.” He uses people like Neil to collect certain things from certain people–so, he targets them and sends people like Neil to do the dirty work for him. Standard, crime king stuff, Matt supposes.

Matt can’t take down an entire mob. But he can send a message to one of them.

Tonight, Neil will be on his way to visit some family a little more uptown. Matt doesn’t think he’ll be arriving on time.

Actually, Matt knows he won’t be arriving on time.

Because just as Neil is about to turn the corner on 98th and hail a cab, just as he’s about to tighten his grip on the lasagna he brought in a paper bag, just as he thinks he can get away with anything, Matt comes swooping down from a fire escape and kicks Neil down, wrapping an arm around his neck and dragging him into the nearest alley.

“Ay, get the fuck off of me!”

Matt grips him as hard as he can with his arm. Neil kicks and jerks back but Matt stays put as he continues to drag him away.

When they are finally deep enough in the alley, Matt hurls him down and presses a knee on his chest, holding his arms above his head.

“Admit it,” Matt seethes between his teeth.

“Admit what, you asshole?!” Neil spits. Matt can hear Neil’s heart beating rapidly in his ears. He’s scared.

“You shot that woman, took her money and left her to die.”

“She didn’t die!”

Matt crushes his knee on top of Neil’s throat, “Why did you do it?”

Neil coughs, “Why da fuck do you care? You psycho!”

Matt only presses his knee harder on Neil’s throat.

“Fuck!” Neil cries, “the goddamn chain, the-the charm!”

Matt is confused momentarily. While tightening his grip on Neil’s two hands together, Matt quickly lifts his knee and reaches down to rip off the necklace Neil was wearing.

Neil takes a shot at Matt’s jaw but Matt throws the chain to the side and punches Neil in the face.

“Okay, okay! I did it! But I had to, it’s my job! I didn’t have a choice,” Neil chokes out.

“That’s bullshit. Who do you work for?”

Neil laughs, a cryptic laugh that fills Matt’s ears, that only enrages Matt more.

“You couldn’t even punch it out of me if you wanted to know.”

Matt’s senses overload him. The sweat from Neil’s forehead, Neil’s blood filling the air, his cries, the chain that Matt threw to the side of him, even the lasagna that’s spilled over the pavement. Matt punches Neil smack dab in the middle of his face, he punches his jaw, his eyes, his cheek bones, and Matt begins to lose count of how many times he’s hit Neil, but he doesn’t care.

“Please, stop,” Neil barely speaks, “I’ll run.”

“You won’t,” Matt replies, “because I will find you again and I will beat you the same. Unless you turn yourself into the police.”

“I don’t have a choice,” Neil says.

“We always have a choice,” Matt whispers.

Neil doesn’t respond because, well, he simply can’t anymore. His lips are bloody and his eyes are swollen shut. Matt hears him slowly fall asleep.

For a moment, Matt stays kneeling on Neil’s chest. He’s out of breath as well. It’s quiet again. The noises of New York now fill his senses.

Matt stands up slowly over Neil’s body.

He gathers his thoughts. Matt is cold. And suddenly it feels like his mind is unwrapping itself of its black twisted thoughts.

What would have happened if Matt didn’t stop punching?

Cold. Brisk, Autumn cold. Stinging on the open wounds of Matt’s hands. Stinging? What’s that metallic smell? His cut up knuckles. Bloody.

White noise. Matt can’t focus on anything but Neil, beaten to a pulp that lay in front of him, suddenly coughing up blood. Matt’s shaking. How could he have done this? Did he just do this?

Yes, he did. The fact that it came so easy to him frightens Matt. It was so easy to attack the man, so easy to wrap an arm around his neck–not so easy to get him on the ground and to confess what he has done, no. It wasn’t easy to hear the first plea to stop, and most of all, it wasn’t easy for Matt to listen to him.

But here he was, and Matt was shocked to feel so accomplished… unsettled, about this, but why? Was he wrong? Was he the devil in this?

Was he?

Who is Matt Murdock?

11:30pm. LATER.

Matt slowly walks back to campus. He dragged Neil to the side of the curb, leaving him for someone to call the police on. Matt really didn’t know what else to do other than that. He brushed it off.

There was not much information Matt could get out of Neil, but he couldn’t worry about that. There are hundreds of gangs in New York–Matt can’t get to them all. At least this serves as a message to whoever he works for and everyone else that, he knows what happened, and he won’t let it happen again. And if it does, Matt will find them. Again. And again.

Was beating Neil up going to heal that woman’s wound? No. Matt knows that. But he hopes that it brings some solace to her that her attacker was found, and justice was served. There was nothing the police, or the city of New York could do to make that happen. But Matt was able to. Matt did. And that’s all that mattered to him.

But, now Matt knows what he is capable of. It surely frightened him, but at least he now knows the lengths he will reach now. And the line he won’t cross.

He remembers the chain he grabbed from around Neil’s neck. It was always bothering him. It must have been a gang token or something. Something “the boss” gives to his workers that signifies they are a part of his crime. Matt pulls the chain out and feels for the charm: cheap silver, no wonder it bothered Neil so much. The charm itself feels to be a circular charm with indents of another circle, and the initial R.

Matt sighs deeply. Now that Neil was taken care of, he could focus on other important things.

Matt knows he’s back on Columbia turf as the sound of partying and music grows louder. The smell of fresh cut grass and slick pavement and the sound of lamps buzzing along the path to the dorms.

The smell of lavender, the smell of vanilla.

The smell becoming stronger and stronger.

Hesitation in your voice. Uncertainty in your movements.

“Matt?”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #daredevil #charlie cox #archive of our own #marvel #matt murdock x reader insert #marvel fan fiction #daredevil fan fiction #library series

21 notes · View notes

remnantoforario · 4 years

Text

RWBY V7 Ch. 11 Notes

Thats a cool way to use a gun

Ironwood, you have TWO GUNS. Why not use both?

Never mind

Who is this dude singing?

Who would have thought the best fight this volume (so far) would have Watts in it?

Spear! Spear! Spear!

So Watts is mad that he wasn’t picked as the prettiest girl at the ball...slightly disappointing. At least its what better motivation to hate someone than Hazel.

That’s not nasty at all

So you gonna drop him or...?

By virtue of Josh Grelle’s acting, I want Tyrian to win this fight

3 on 1? Not fair. Tyrian always get the bad matches.

Shut up, Robyn

You cleaned up quick, Ironwood.

Also, did you drop him? Seems like an important thing NOT to leave out.

Thank you, Elm. I love you

Weiss, I love you, but shut up. He wouldn’t be having this mental break if ya’ll didn��t lie and mess up his plan in the first place.

I’d say less Salem and more Cinder, but we all know Cinder takes two steps forward only to make a giant leap back when she is actually about to accomplish something.

I like how they try to make it look like Ruby still has a thing going on with Cinder, when we all know that was dropped like a bad habit at the end of V5.

At this point I’d be more inclined to believe Yang and Neo sill had a rivalry.

Yang, your tone suggests that you think Cinder being in Atlas is somehow IRONWOOD’S fault, even though he babysitting you dingbats for the entire volume.

The whole “Blake’s cat ears fold when she’s frightened” thing really irks me and Idk why.

I appreciate Ironwood finally being mad about them lying...but this is something that literally should have happened like 2 or 3 episodes ago. It feels like they are writing this volume in reverse.

Nope, Yang, you can’t talk your way out of this. Take your scolding. It’s LONG overdue.

Uh...hello, Salem.

“Their goal was never victory.” That’s an understatement.

I know you love your grandstanding and speechifying, Salem, but all the time you’ve spent playing boogeyman could have been better served taking Vacuo’s relic.

As eerie as this scene is...I’m kinda upset it takes the piss out of “RWBY finally facing consequences” thing that was going on earlier.

Look a Ruby trying to be a badass. You out of your weight class, boo boo.

Salem hit Ruby with the “Yo momma!” Where is the SupaHotFiya when you need him?

Finally, Yang interacts with her sister...and I’m still salty.

Just a little though, I mean why didn’t she react to Salem mentioning Summer? That was her momma too.

"Bye bitches!”

Thank you!

So, Team RWBY are villains now right? Because in any other story this would be long term sabotage at its finest.

No seriously, after this episode go back to the beginning of the volume and just watch everything Ruby and friends did since arriving in Atlas through the lens of them working for Salem. You couldn’t write a better heel turn if your name was Vincent Kennedy McMahon. And the worst part is that it wasn’t even intentional!

Team RWBY has pushed this man to the point where he literally has to send Atlas into space with everyone on it. Hate to see it.

Do you see what happens when you lie?

Blake, Mantle was dead anyway, they still have that huge ass hole in the wall AND no heater.

I’m mad Ruby is trying to explain Ironwood’s plan to him despite the fact that she fucked it up in the first place.

Weiss: What’s the council going to say?

Ironwood: Whatever the fuck I tell’em to say. I have two seats.

What ABOUT Robyn? Woman been a liability from the jump.

I know I shouldnt...but I really hope the Ace Ops beat Team RWBY’s collective asses (even my baby Weiss). They’ve had it coming since the end of V6.

I don’t mean a close fight either. I mean a legit curb stomp. Whoop’em and throw them in jail.

Well that’s a cliffhanger.

So that episode was fairly good, if rushed. I feel they could have spread it out over two episodes, but what do I know? Safe to say Ironwood has become the best character in the show? No? Well too bad because I’m saying it anyway. Might have to redo my tier list after this volume.

#RWBY #RWBY Volume 7 #V7 spoilers

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mysamcedesmadness · 5 years

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So, Cheesy Romantic Picnic on the Grass?

So, anybody that has been following me here knows that chenoahchantel/noreasonjustbored is my BABAY in this fandom. Thanks for keeping me company when I'm alone with 12-18 kids in a big, scary house, and letting me toss ideas off of you. Hopefully, fulfills the audience.

For all who read, I just wanted to thank y'all. I thought this would be a one shot, but y'all showed up asking for more and I gave more until I came to what I felt like was the end of the journey. Grateful for everyone who took it with us. To think, it started out with some silly dreams. *Biggie voice: It was all a dream!* Anywho… And now the conclusion of So: The Henry Danger Fanfic aka So, I Had a Dream...

So, Cheesy Romantic Picnic on the Grass?

Charlotte had an appointment to check out a small house that she could rent near the university and an interview for an on campus job. When she got back into town, Piper picked her up and wondered, "So.. since you're moving back home, are you and my brother ..?"

"I reached out to him and told him that I miss him. We're going to talk, probably. I hope."

"Have you seen him since the last time I saw you?" Piper wondered.

"No. He's not on social media anymore, or he's blocked me."

"He left social media whenever you went to Europe. Jasper says that he still stalks your pages though. He catches him doing it at work sometimes." Piper cleared her throat and asked, "You still love him?"

"More now than I used to, somehow."

"Well, I feel like I should be the one to tell you… if you aren't going to be able to love him the way he needs, just don't bother. He won't benefit from some kind of quick fix."

"Piper, are you looking out for Henry?" Charlotte teased.

Piper stared at her with a stone face. "Somebody had to after you just quit on him. Did you think Jasper could do it? Jasper can barely take care of himself!" She tapped the steering wheel with her fingers and said, "If you're really gonna do right by him, you have nothing to worry about."

Charlotte found Piper's protectiveness a little weird, but she hadn't been around in years. For all she knew, Henry and Piper were close now.

Whenever they pulled up to this duplex, Charlotte squinted her eyes and wondered, "Where are we?"

Piper gave her a look and said, "Henry's," like, obviously. She slammed on the horn a bunch and unlocked the doors. "He and Jasper are renting this place from that boss of his at the junk store. I had no idea that he owned property. That makes sense. Because, to this day, I've still never seen anyone purchase anything from out of there."

Charlotte kept silent. This was probably something he had on Captain Man's dime. She wondered if Henry and Jasper were actually paying rent, or just able to stay because of Captain Man's resources in Swellview. Jasper was out first, in a belly shirt and a pair of jorts, and Charlotte had to admit - he'd been working on those abs! He rushed and gave her a big hug and swept her up off the ground cheering, "She's home!" When he put her down, they were just chattering excitedly. She saw movement in the corner of her eye, but was a little bit nervous to even turn and see Henry. But, she did. He was speaking quietly with Piper and grabbing Charlotte's bags from the SUV. Piper looked concerned and he looked… well, kinda like he was trying to avoid being scolded.

But, more importantly… He looked… different. He was more muscular, had some facial hair. With the tank top he was wearing, she saw that he'd added more tattoos and she wondered if he'd done so to rid himself of hers. That suddenly terrified and saddened her… But, nope… When he shifted to throw another bag on his left arm, she simultaneously noticed that her tattoo was still visibly in tact (as well as noticed the flex of his muscles when he picked up more). "Hey, I can help…" She said and went to try to get a bag from him. He just smiled and shook his head, then went inside.

Piper had her arms folded and she looked at Charlotte, "You're gonna be here for him, right?"

"Right."

"Okay. Call me soon so we can connect. I know the two of you have a lot to discuss." She hugged her then pointed to Jasper and said, "Go home. You can see her later, like everybody else."

"This is my home!" Jasper said.

Piper pointed at the right side of the duplex, "That's your home and you go to it, NOT to Henry's, right now. Where are his keys?"

"In my pocket."

"They better stay there until he's better." She fussed and then smiled sweetly at Charlotte and waved as she got into the vehicle.

"I think I've grown on her," Jasper said, nodding. Charlotte gave him a confused look.

But, then something occurred to her, "Wait, why are Henry's keys in your pocket?"

Jasper waved a hand and said, "Piper makes me take them if I see him drinking because he got wasted, busted his fists up, got alcohol poisoning, and nearly choked on his own vomit."

"Oh my God!"

"I made that sound worse than it was. These were three different occasions. Not the same night!"

"Jasper, that's worst. That means this is a habit. How'd he bust his fists up?"

"Punching an indestructible man repeatedly." Charlotte held her head. "In his defense, Ray was really asking for it and he was extremely drunk."

"When did he start drinking?"

"It just helps him cope. He does it all the time and only had three incidents."

"Jasper… Drinking "all the time" is an incident, okay? And the three incidents to listed sound pretty bad. He choked on vomit? Alcohol poisoning? Thank God that you take his keys, or he might have harmed someone or himself!"

"Ohhhhh… now that I think about it… The night that he busted up his fists, he did almost crash. He came home with blood all over him because apparently liquor is a blood thinner? Who knew, right? And Piper immediately tried to rush him to the hospital, but he knows that Schwoz can probably fix it, so he says he'll do it tomorrow. Well, Piper is insisting it happens now, before he gets blood all over the house that their parents think that she's responsible, though I'm pretty sure she was probably worried. She's asking him what happened, was it a fight, did he bludgeon someone to death, did he attack a brick wall? He says fine, jumps in the truck and speeds off. So, at this point, I'm confused, because I was his ride home and she's aggravated. She calls the cops on him, and we get in her car and try to follow him. He was all over the place and nearly drove through the front of Junk N' Stuff. He gets out and goes in, and she's SOOOO mad, but I convinced her that I'll take care of him and make sure he gets medical attention. Schwoz fixed him up, but he had to of course wear the bandages for a while, for good measure. But, Piper's been hard on his case ever since."

"Can you blame her?"

"Charlotte… That doesn't help him. He needs support. He needs love…"

As though on cue, Henry returned and even though he was beautiful, Charlotte certainly noticed the pain in his features. He finally gave her a hug as he asked Jasper, "Trying to steal my woman? I don't play that. Not with this one." He gave her a kiss on the forehead and she melted against him and glanced down at his gray sweatpants.

"Piper told me to go home," Jasper said.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea for right now, so we can… chill, you know?"

"Talk to you soon, Jasp," Charlotte said.

Henry flinched and he joked, "You don't call my Jasp "Jasp, I call my Jasp "Jasp."

"He's our Jasp," she said, with their arms still wrapped around each other. Jasper vanished into his duplex and Charlotte looked up at Henry. "Hey, Hen," she said. He just smiled and pulled her close to himself. "You're going kinda easy on me. I guess I expected a fight."

"I've been waiting for years for you to come back. Last thing I want is to fight with you." He rubbed her back and her arms, then cradled her to himself.

"You okay?"

"No. I missed you more than my brain even has words to like depict or whatever." He leaned back and said, "I would kiss you, but I'm not as good as reading you as I used to be and I wouldn't want to cross any lines."

"Well, I would kiss you, but I just want to know… How much have you had to drink today?"

She saw the flicker of offense and he dropped his arms from around her and laughed a little. "Wnat me to pour you one?"

"No thanks, I don't drink."

"Of course you don't. Your life is perfect. You're perfect. Charlotte Page never does anything wrong or unsavory…"

"There's the fight," she said under her breath.

"Yeah, since you wanted one!"

"I'm not trying to fight. I just heard that you were having some problems and I'm concerned. Piper certainly seemed concerned. Can't I be concerned, or did I lose my rights to caring about you?" They were inside. He flopped down onto the couch. This duplex was actually pretty spacious! But, she wasn't distracted. She sat next to him and said, "I would never attack you, Hen. I have your back. But, the things that I've heard are scary, and I want what's best for you. Do you think you might need to see someone about it?"

"What, like rehab? No. I see a lot. I go through a lot. And, from the time I was 13 on up, I have had a very dangerous and stressful job. I was a good kid. I was responsible and dependable. More than most of these cats in Swellview, you know? It's just that nobody really knew that, because I had to hide who I was and I didn't have the energy to be that kid 24/7. When I unmasked, they got Henry. Hopeless Henry, with the bad grades and short attention span." He chuckled. "It was always okay, though. I had the best friends somebody like me could have. And for a while, I had the best girlfriend. I actually thrived for a while. I was doing pretty good in school. My parents were pleased with me. Like.. I was that dude. Then… we graduated and I had to try to adapt to college life with a different dynamic in my support system. I lost my girl and my best friend when you left…" She furrowed her eyebrows and he quickly said, "I'm not saying I blame you, I'm just stating my stressors." He shook his head. "I did my best and was barely getting by in college. Those professors thought I was a lazy loser. I was protecting Swellview with most of what I had to give, and I didn't have my biggest supporter. I didn't want to bother you. I'd already messed things up between us. You… came to visit and we… I thought that maybe you could see that I knew I messed up. I thought that maybe you would open the conversation, because you're so big on opening conversations. When you didn't, I thought maybe it was because you no longer wanted anything to do with me. Because, you don't like to leave things unsettled. But, when you did, I took that as a sign. Then… you group chatted us months later that you weren't coming home for summer because you'd be exploring Europe. It was like the nail in the coffin."

"Okay… But, why didn't you just start the conversation? Henry… I started so many of our most important conversations and the last one that I tried to have, I tried to start numerous times, only to have you thwart it. Did it not occur to you that maybe I was scared that you wouldn't have the conversation with me?"

"It clearly did not." They were quiet for a while. "I'm sorry. I'm the one that broke things off. I'm the one that rushed to the first available girl to try to clear my mind of you. I'm the one who should have and didn't bring the conversation back around when it mattered. You did a lot of the heavy lifting in our relationship. I should have done all the lifting it would have taken to mend it, after I broke it. Because, I've thought about that conversations many drunken nights, and I definitely was the one who," he shook his head and clasped his hands together.

"Henry, if you don't think rehab, what about at least going to therapy? You should sort these things out with a professional."

"How do I explain my Kid Danger dilemmas?" He rolled his eyes.

They were silent again, then Charlotte said, "Okay… You… Have a very important job that you can't discuss for security purposes… A job in which you are responsible for the wellbeing of someone else. Say that you're in protection services… for special needs citizens. The job often changes, but someone is always in your care. It's stressful but it's your passion and your mission and it has affected you in A, B, and C ways…" He was pondering over this. "Don't think about it too hard. It'll hold up. They won't press you to ask what you specifically do, especially if you've already stated that you couldn't go into detail about the job. I just want you to be the best you that you can be. A healthy, happy Henry. You're… the love of my life. I can't stand to see you hurting…"

Henry looked shocked at her saying that. So, he hadn't messed everything completely upm afterall. He took her hand and pulled her closer to cuddle with him. "You're the love of my life, too," he whispered. "Char… Are you here to stay? Are you visiting before going somewhere else to get your masters or phD, or whatever you're working on next?"

"And leave you in Jasper's care again? Look at what happened last time!" She joked, but he had a serious look on his face and was still waiting for her to respond. She sighed and stroked his hair, "Listen, let's first focus on therapy and rehab, then we can have a conversation. I'll even be the one to bring it up." He smiled a little and for the first time since she got back, she saw some gosh dang hope in his eyes.

Charlotte cancelled her apartment hunt and just set up in Jasper's extra room. They thought it might make things less stressful for them if she wasn't all in his space, but she also wanted to be close enough to be able to immediately respond, should he need her. It took Henry a while, but she noticed within the next few months of summer, he began to relax more. She noticed that he didn't seem to be replenishing his bar, (because he didn't agree with quitting cold turkey, so it was definitely still there). She hoped that he was pouring out bottles as he got better and not drinking them, though. She and Jasper had keys to the place, so she sometimes went over to use his gym, and his shower. A few times, he'd caught her undressed or partially dressed and quickly retracted himself (yep, in his own home).

One time, though, she came in and he was there, setting stuff up on the mantle where his bar once was. "Hey… I thought you were at work."

"No. I had a meeting tonight, so I took the night off. It's too stressful to fight crime then try to talk to the group, and it was a good night for group," he said and came over to show her something. "Got my six month chip." She gasped and hugged him. It was an effort for him not to kiss her. "Therapy has been really good too," he said and pulled away from her to finish decorating.

"Well… I'm really proud of you and glad that you're doing so well on self."It had been difficult for her to stay out of the way, but she knew that she had to let him do it. If it was just another Charlotte controlled mission, he never could have gotten the recovery he needed or deserved. "So… If… You… are interested in having our conversation… I'd love to do that as soon as you want to." She noticed him tense up but she didn't know if it was nervousness, excitement, a cringe. Hell, he'd spent months fixing himself. Maybe the last thing he wanted was to connect with her or with anybody else. What was she thinking? Six months wasn't enough time!

"I want that more than anything," he said and turned around and leaned against the mantle. "But, I do have a busy week, so perhaps we can set a date. My therapist says that with my job being so versatile and erratic, that I have to be sure to try to have structure in my personal life and not to be impulsive, to maintain stability."

She pulled out her phone and synched their calendars. "Okay, so, as far as when you don';t have work, meetings, appointments and other engagements and I don't have class, work, etc… two weeks from now on Wednesday night sound good?"

"Sounds like a dream," he said (a callback to the first time he asked her out.

She immediately got that reference and added on to it, "So, cheesy romantic picnic on the grass?"

He smiled, the brightest smile she had seen in a while, "I'll bring the blanket."

…

"Aaaaaand, they lived happily ever after," the older Henry said. "True story about your mom and dad…"

The eldest in the backseat threw her head back and said loudly, "Mom, wake up! Dad is telling us the story about your first date again and still insists on pretending that he was Kid Danger!" Charlotte laughed and said, "I am awake and also… if you thought I was asleep, you were gonna wake me up, for that?"

The girl shrugged her shoulders, curls blowing in the wind. "He got to the end of the story. You know he always likes to end on that cheesy "I'll bring the blanket," (she imitated him) "line. Not even smooth. I can't believe you gave him three kids," she teased.

"He didn't have to be smooth. You've seen photos of your dad when we got married."

"Wasn't impressed," she said.

"You literally look just like me, with a tan and long hair," Henry said. "I wanted to name you Henry Jr, but Charlotte was afraid that you might have a complex about it when you got old enough for kids to tease you."

The middle child, and only boy spoke up, "Mom, then what happened after dad's cheesy, not smooth line."

"They are relentless," Henry commented.

"Well, they are my children," Charlotte reminded him with a giggle, then finished the retelling,

"Charlotte's smile as she went back to Jasper's and started packing was the widest one she ever felt on her face. "What's happening? Are you… Where are you going?" Jasper wondered.

"If I'm lucky.. To where I always belonged. Home to Henry. I'll know in a couple of weeks." She contacted Schwoz, "Hey, Schwoz… do you still have any It's Time gumballs?"

"I have the new and improved It's Time gumballs!"

"I'll be by to get it in a few. Click."

Three Hart kids clapped their hands and cheered, "Way to go, Mom!" She chuckled.

"No respect," Henry said, shaking his head, but smiling brightly as they pulled into the carport of their summer house. Charlotte could hardly wait to hit the waves on her trusty old surfboard. Henry could hardly wait to grill hotdogs and… his alert went off and their eldest complained, "Ugh… You've gotta work?"

"Yeah, he does. It's how we have a summer house, so mind your tone, Girl." Charlotte gave Henry a kiss on the lips, placed her hand on his heart to feel his pulse in sync with her ring, and told him, "Come home safely."

"I always try," he said, as he pulled out his gumballs and tried to find some place to change.

"Okay! House Hart, unpack the truck for me," Charlotte said to her 16, 12 and 8 year old. She watched as a red and blue jetpack wearing streak went up and then over. The kids were distracted and said, "WHOAAA! THAT WAS AGENT DANGER!" They were all super excited and she just smiled and shook her head. She told Henry that the best way of always keeping them unaware of his secret identity was to tell them all of their lives that he used to be Kid Danger. No matter how obvious it became, they never presumed he was Agent Danger.

#So I Had a Dream #So Cheesy Romantic Picnic on the Grass?#hd fanfic #henry danger #chenry #concluded

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vernonfielding · 5 years

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Life Writes Its Own Stories

Chapter 11. (AO3!)

Jake walked home in a daze. As he unlocked his front door, he couldn’t recall quite how he’d gotten there, as though his brain had shut off for a while, and his feet had just carried him somewhere safe and familiar.

He shrugged off his coat and kicked off his shoes. He sat hard on the end of his bed and brought his hands to his face, digging his palms into his eyes to keep himself from crying. He could feel the tears in his throat and burning behind his eyes and he knew it was only a matter of time, but he was afraid that once he started he wouldn’t know how to stop.

His cell phone buzzed in his pocket, and Jake yanked it out, didn’t even bother to look before turning it off. It could be Amy, or it could be Rosa or Scully or fucking Pembroke telling him he was fired. He didn’t want to talk to any of them – or anyone at all. He tossed the phone onto his couch, then pulled out his keys and threw them hard across the room. They left a satisfying dent in the wall beneath his Die Hard poster.

“Fuck,” he said, under his breath, then yelled out, “Fuck!” He fell back on his bed and stared at the ceiling.

It seemed impossible that he’d been in perhaps the best mood of his life just that morning – less than an hour ago, maybe. He had just bought them breakfast, was thinking about where to stop for coffee on the way back, when he spotted the Bulletin in a newsrack near the bodega entrance. He couldn’t have said what caught his eye first, except that he’d gotten in the habit of glancing at the front page to look for Amy’s name. But the word “vulture” had made him stop in his tracks, right in the doorway. A woman had jostled him and muttered a “fuck you” as she pushed by. He’d barely noticed.

He’d picked up the paper and looked back at the man behind the counter, who knew Jake was a regular. The man had nodded and waved him out, and Jake had left without paying. He’d stopped just outside and read Gina’s column, his heart in his throat the whole way through.

The column had Amy all over it. Everything in there had come from him, had been shared with her over late-night dinners as they pored over documents, or later, while they lay in bed together or cuddled on her sofa or took walks around Fort Greene.

He’d stalked back to her apartment, angrier than he could recently recall. Righteous fury had carried him all the way to her building, but as he’d climbed the stairs to her door it burned down to embers, replaced by something far worse: hurt.

Then seeing her, wide-eyed with worry, still so beautiful to him, he’d deflated. And he’d wanted so badly to believe her when she said she’d done nothing wrong, when she said she would never hurt him like that. Maybe she hadn’t meant to, he reasoned. Maybe she’d said some things she shouldn’t have weeks ago, before they were even dating, and Gina had somehow come up with the rest herself. Or maybe Amy had been drunk and didn’t remember talking. Or maybe she had handed it all to Gina knowingly and regretted it only later, when faced with the consequences. Maybe Jake hadn’t known her at all.

He didn’t really think that, even now. But he didn’t know what to think or who to believe. He just had facts: Gina had written a column that had the potential to destroy his career, and the only person who could have given her that column was Amy. And he’d trusted her. She’d made the short list. She’d maybe even been at the top.

Alone in his apartment, Jake stared at the ceiling until the spidery cracks in the paint began to blur. He didn’t fight the tears when they finally came.

+++

Despite everything, Amy still managed to get to work 10 minutes early. She knew she was looking rough as she flashed the press pass that doubled as her Bulletin ID at Doug behind the security desk. But she was still caught off guard when he said, “Ms. Santiago, are you okay?” Which of course made her immediately tear up again, so after she brushed him off with a quivery “Mondays, am I right?” she spent a good 20 minutes in the ladies’ room getting herself under control.

That was how she actually ended up 10 minutes late, feeling off-balance and shaky and annoyed with herself and angry with everyone else. She took her seat across from Gina, and Gina looked up and did a double-take.

“Damn, girl.”

An image flashed in Amy’s mind, of her launching herself over their two desks and tackling Gina to the floor and strangling her, just a little.

Instead she stood up again and slapped her palms on her desk, hard enough to rattle her keyboard. “What the hell, Gina?”

“Whoa, I was just going to say you looked like you had the best and/or worst night of your life but if you’re going to get all murdery about it-”

“We need to talk.” Amy leaned over their desks and practically growled. “Now.”

She stalked to the break room and didn’t look to make sure Gina was following. (She didn’t honestly think she had intimidated Gina, but she knew Gina would come if only for the drama.)

The day before – and all last night, when she should have been sleeping – Amy’s thoughts had spiraled, twisting and throttling around her brain like a tornado she was powerless to control, much less stop. The confrontation with Jake had played on an endless loop, and sometimes she got to keep talking, keep trying to explain, but it always ended the same – with him walking out. She’d cried off and on all day, until she felt wilted from it, her body and mind spent. A dozen times she’d picked up her phone to call or text him, but she didn’t know what she could, or wanted to, say. She couldn’t apologize, she couldn’t ask forgiveness – she’d done nothing wrong. But what else was there?

In her saner moments, she’d imagined this: talking to Gina. Eventually she’d crafted a speech, in which she firmly but delicately inquired as to how Gina got that column. Technically it was on Amy’s beat after all – she had every right to ask. In a calm, work-appropriate way.

When they got into the breakroom Amy closed the door and yelled, “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, but I can tell you what I’m thinking right now, which is that you are cray-cray.”

Gina planted her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. Amy took a deep breath, let it out slowly. Then she did it three more times. Gina just watched.

“Fine,” Amy said coolly. “I’m talking about your column yesterday. About the 99th Precinct.”

“You’re mad about that?” Gina frowned. “I mean, I know it’s a cop thing and that’s your turf, but it was such a throwaway. I thought that gossipy crap was beneath you.”

“It is,” Amy said, “but you had to know this wasn’t going to look good for Jake. Did you even think about him? About his career?”

“Jake who?”

“Peralta.”

Amy’s slip-up hit her the moment Gina’s face lit up.

“Jake Peralta. Oh my god – Jake is your source?”

“Was my source,” Amy said. She bit her lip, unsure what else she could say – what she was allowed to say. Gina was Jake’s friend first, but he wasn’t here now. And Amy realized suddenly that she needed someone to know what had happened – and Gina was responsible, after all.

She took a deep breath. “We were dating. But I think we’re maybe broken up now.”

“Okay, wow. Did not see that coming.” Gina sat on the breakroom couch. She stared up at Amy, her brows turned down in bemusement. “We’re talking about the same Jake Peralta, right? Plaid shirts, basically lives off gummy worms and pizza pockets, has maybe only ever seen one movie in his life?”

“Well, technically it’s a franchise, so, like, five movies-” Amy closed her eyes and stopped herself. Then she nodded morosely, and dropped onto the couch beside Gina.

Gina tucked one leg under herself and turned to face her. “How did you even meet?”

“You just said it yourself,” Amy said, rolling her eyes. “He was my source. He works in the Nine-Nine?”

“Oh right – is it weird that I can never remember he’s a cop?”

“It’s very weird,” Amy said. She slumped into the couch, tipping her head back on the cushions and staring up at the ceiling tiles. “Do you have any idea what you did with that column?”

“Yeah, I’m still not following why this is an issue,” Gina said.

“The Vulture is Jake’s boss.”

“And,” Gina said, gesturing for her to go on.

Amy sighed. “And Jake talks to me about him all the time. And the Vulture’s already suspicious about Jake being my source.”

“So, you’re afraid this Vulture dude is going to think that Jake was my source for the column,” Gina said.

Amy hummed a yes, and then added, “And Jake thinks I was your source.”

“He- what?” Gina sat up and gaped at Amy. “He actually said that?”

“He did,” Amy said, the grief hitting her all over again. She blinked hard against the familiar pinpricks in the corners of her eyes.

“God, he’s such an idiot,” Gina said. “Look, I can’t tell you who my source is, because- okay, actually because I don’t know his name.”

“Gina!” Amy stared at her, appalled. It was one thing to use anonymous sources for a story, but reporters at least had to know who they were talking to, even if they never revealed the name publicly. It was too easy to be lied to and misled otherwise.

“It was just gossip,” Gina said, throwing her hands up. “I ran it by a couple of my own sources and they said it was legit, so I went with it.”

“And now Jake thinks I blew his cover all for some dumb gossip column and we’re basically broken up.” Amy groaned and slid onto her side, curling up in a corner of the couch.

There was a brief silence and then Gina said, “Not that I would do it, because I don’t think I care that much – but do you want me to call Jake and explain it wasn’t you?”

Amy thought over the offer for a moment before shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter. He either trusts me or he doesn’t. And I guess he doesn’t.”

She felt Gina patting her ankle. It was hesitant and awkward and Amy was deeply moved, and she felt the tears run fresh down her cheeks. They sat quietly for a few minutes, Amy crying into the disgusting couch while Gina almost certainly played on her phone.

Amy was just about ready to get up, wipe her face, and make another attempt at facing the world when Gina said, “Are you sure Jake’s a cop in the Nine-Nine? I feel like I would remember that.”

Amy rolled onto her back and stared at Gina in wonder. “Jake has the weirdest friends.”

+++

Jake realized he was clutching at the arms of his chair hard enough to turn his knuckles white, and he let go and rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants legs. On the wall across from him was a framed poster of Officer Pepper O’Pigeon, hanging behind the commissioner’s secretary’s desk. For such a goofy mascot it was oddly threatening – Jake thought it had something to do with the shirt sleeves being cut off to accommodate the bird’s arms, or wings. Like it was too buff to be constrained by a normal police uniform. But the long pink legs were also upsetting.

He tore his gaze away and straightened his tie, again, and avoided looking at the man sitting in the chair next to his. Jake couldn’t ignore the staccato of snips, though, as the Vulture trimmed his nails while they waited. The man was truly the most disgusting person Jake knew.

“A tie’s not gonna save your ass, Peralta,” Pembroke said with a cheerful snicker.

Jake just barely stopped himself from telling Pembroke to go fuck himself.

Jake had honestly been surprised when he’d gotten the call that morning to come to the commissioner’s office for a meeting – he’d expected Pembroke to handle the punishment himself, or at worst take it a step or two up the chain of command. That Jake was being hauled down to One Police Plaza meant that the brass were taking Gina’s column more seriously than he’d expected, and also that he could be in seriously deep trouble.

Sure, in his lowest moments the day and night before he had imagined losing his job and ending up homeless and alone and living off of dog food and cheese puffs for the rest of his life, but he hadn’t really believed that would happen. Now his gut churned with real fear. They could take away his detective badge. He could lose everything.

The secretary’s phone rang and Jake’s anxiety spiked. The secretary picked up the call, hung up without saying a word, and announced, “The commissioner’s ready for you.”

Pembroke brushed off his pants and stood, gesturing for Jake to go before him. When Jake got up and moved toward the office, Pembroke nudged him aside and jumped in front, smirking over his shoulder. The guy was seriously the worst.

Jake hadn’t been in the commissioner’s office since Wuntch won the job a couple of years before. It looked basically the same as the previous commissioner’s office had, with framed commendations hanging on the walls and a few photos of Wuntch with random politicians and celebrities lined up on the bookcase adjacent to the desk. He paused on a shot of Wuntch with an irritated-looking Michelle Obama; both of their hair was slightly mussed up in the photo.

“Have a seat,” Wuntch said. She was already behind her desk, hands folded on top of a copy of the Bulletin.

Jake put a hand to his chest to keep his badge in place as he sat, feeling suddenly self-conscious in his cargo pants and plaid shirt and leather jacket. Even with the tie he felt sloppy and unprofessional next to two high-ranking cops in full uniform. He wished for a moment that he’d at least picked out a clean shirt for his funeral, but then, he’d had a lot on his mind when he’d gotten dressed that morning.

“Peralta should be fired,” Pembroke said without preamble. Jake felt his heart clench.

“Now, let’s not be hasty,” Wuntch said. She looked between them, narrowing her eyes. “Captain Pembroke – or should I call you Captain Vulture?”

Pembroke sneered at Jake.

“Captain,” Wuntch went on, “you asked for this meeting. It’s my understanding that you believe Detective Peralta is responsible for this rather enlightening article in the Bulletin?”

She pushed the newspaper across her desk, and Pembroke jabbed a finger at the top of the page. Jake was reminded uncomfortably of his own reaction the day before.

“He was Santiago’s source and now he’s obviously started leaking to Linetti,” Pembroke said. “If that’s not cause for dismissal-”

Wuntch held up a hand. “Do you know he was their source?”

“Yeah, I know,” Pembroke said. “Santiago wrote several stories that obviously came from Peralta.”

“But do you have proof?” Wuntch said.

Pembroke bristled. “He was the only person who could have talked to her.”

“That’s circumstantial, Captain. Do you have proof?”

Pembroke opened his mouth, closed it, and finally scowled at the commissioner.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Wuntch said. She turned to Jake. “Did you leak the material in this column to the Bulletin?”

Jake shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

“And did you leak any other stories to Ms. Santiago?”

Jake swallowed, and shook his head again. “I don’t even know her.”

“Very well.”

“You’ve got to be friggin’ kidding me,” Pembroke said. “He’s lying.”

“You have no proof that Detective Peralta had anything to do with this,” Wuntch said, tapping the newspaper. “Peralta, thank you for your time. Dismissed.”

Jake sat dazed for a second, then stood and nodded sharply at her. “Thank you, commissioner.”

Pembroke groaned and rose with him, but as they turned to walk out, Wuntch said, “Captain Pembroke, you’ll stay. We need to talk about this Vulture thing…”

If Jake hadn’t been so miserable, he would have been struggling to keep himself from grinning and high-fiving the commissioner’s secretary as he walked out, letting the door swing shut behind him.

As it was, he simply pulled out his cell phone and texted Rosa: “Shaw’s in 30. We’re day drinking. No talking.”

Rosa texted back a thumbs up immediately.

+++

They couldn’t actually drink while they were on duty, so Jake bought them Shirley Temples. They grabbed a table at the back of the bar and he told Rosa what had gone down with the commissioner, and she tapped her glass against his.

“That’s great, man.” She eyed him as he stared into the pink depths of his drink. “Or, it’s not great.”

“Amy and I broke up. I think.”

Rosa blew out a breath, and Jake prepared for the told-you-so. He figured he deserved it. He was even sort of looking forward to it, in a masochistic but weirdly reassuring way. He’d been cycling through so many emotions over the past 24 hours, shifting from anger to grief to fear to guilt, to feelings he couldn’t even identify but made his skin crawl and his stomach hurt.

In the center of them all was Amy, and the question he somehow couldn’t stop asking himself: Did he trust her? Every time he tried to answer it head on, it was like the spin cycle picked up speed, everything a blur until his mind sort of shut down and moved on.

Rosa, though – she knew the answer. She’d warned him.

Rosa was twirling her plastic straw around her drink, creating a small cyclone of her own. “You broke up with her because you think she leaked the Vulture stuff to Gina Linetti.”

Jake nodded, then shrugged. “I guess I left before we broke up, so we’re technically still together? I’m not sure.”

Rosa took a sip of her drink through the straw and scowled. She pushed the glass away, and she looked Jake straight in the eye. Jake braced himself.

“Are you sure she did it? Because it doesn’t really sound like something Amy would do.”

Jake’s stomach dropped to his feet, and he stared at her in disbelief. “You said it was a mistake to trust her. You said she only wanted to sell newspapers and that I’d regret dating her.”

“I did not say that last thing,” Rosa said, pointing a finger at him.

“But the trust part! You said that, like, so many times.”

Rosa leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. “Yes, but I meant over something important. Like, the mayor is shot and you know who the prime suspect is and you tell Amy after you guys have really great sex, and she’s like, do I betray Jake and write about the guy who tried to kill the mayor? And she decides she has to because she believes people have a right to know or some bullshit. I didn’t mean, like, some dumb gossip column about the fucking Vulture.”

Jake threw his arms up and tried very hard not to yell. “Rosa! You were never that specific!”

“I didn’t think I had to be.” Rosa cocked her head to the side, studying him. “My thoughts on Amy’s trustworthiness had nothing to do with you assuming she betrayed you. That’s not on me, Jake.”

Jake groaned and folded himself over the table, knocking his forehead against the hard surface. He picked his head up and hit it again, with a little more force. The table top was sticky. He felt Rosa awkwardly pat his shoulder a couple of times and then they said nothing for a while.

“I’m just saying, maybe you should call her,” Rosa said.

Jake moaned into the table. “I liked you better when we went for drinks and didn’t talk.”

“Same.” Rosa rapped him on the back of the head with her knuckles. “Now sit up and drink your Shirley Temple in silence like a woman.”

+++

Pembroke was still gone when they got back to the precinct an hour later. Jake sat at his desk and tugged off his tie, preparing to embrace an afternoon of apathy-slash-despondency, perhaps first by putting his head down and just ignoring the world for a while.

He frowned when three post-it notes stuck to his computer monitor caught his attention. They were all phone messages taken by the admin assistant (because Jake had never set up his office voicemail, because voicemail was annoying and people shouldn’t be encouraged to use it).

The first message was from his CI.

“Fuck,” Jake said under his breath, as he tore off the note. He’d completely forgotten that Leo had arranged for a meet that morning. Jake pulled out his cell phone and yes – there was a text too, from over an hour ago.

The second post-it note was another message from his CI. The third was from Kings County Hospital. Jake plucked off that note and stared at the neatly printed letters for a beat, then picked up his desk phone and called.

He was on hold for a while, which gave him plenty of time to beat himself up for flaking on Leo. He’d never skipped out on a CI, not once since becoming a detective and building up a loose network of informants. What if Leo had been calling for help, and was now in the morgue?

And as he kept waiting, Jake wondered if maybe the call from the hospital wasn’t about his CI at all. What if it was Amy? She could have been hit by a bus or fallen through a rusted manhole cover or been mauled by a pack of aggressive pigeons or rats. Would anyone even think to call him? What if he never saw her again?

“Hello, Detective Peralta?”

“Yes!” Jake’s voice was about three pitches higher than usual. He closed his eyes briefly and coughed. “Yes, speaking.”

“Okay, um- I’m Officer Robbins.” There was a flapping sound, of papers being flipped around. “Right, here we go. We picked up a Leo James about an hour ago.”

Jake breathed out slowly, hating himself a little for the weight that lifted off his shoulders. “Is he okay?”

“He’s going to be. He got beat up pretty bad, and he was overdosing when we found him.”

Jake frowned. Leo was a fringe associate with one of the rougher drug rings in Brooklyn, but he wasn’t really a user himself. Or he hadn’t been. “But you got him in time?”

“Yeah, gave him two hits of Narcan and he came around,” Robbins said. “We followed him over to the hospital, thought we’d see if we could get anything out of him about the beating. But he said he’d only talk to you.”

“Right, okay. Thanks.” Jake sank back in his chair and ran a hand over his face, hit by a new wave of fatigue.

“It’s actually pretty lucky we were able to revive him,” Robbins was going on. “I’ve heard Narcan doesn’t always work well with that new drug, what’s it called-?”

“Jazzy Pants?” Jake sat up straight, on instinct reaching for a notepad and a pen.

“Yeah, dumbass name for a fucked-up drug.”

“Are you sure it was Jazzy Pants?” Jake said.

“That’s what your guy told us when we got him back.”

Jake thanked Robbins again and hung up, frowning to himself. That was two of his CIs overdosing on the new drug in a couple of months. It could be entirely coincidental – overdoses were hardly uncommon among informants – but something felt off, and he’d learned to not ignore certain instincts.

He picked up the phone again to call the Seven-Eight. He didn’t actually have many good contacts over there, so when the admin picked up he asked for the first person who came to mind.

“Peralta,” said Manny Santiago. The cheer in his voice was not exactly unexpected, but it still caught Jake off guard.

“Hey, Manny, look-”

“We missed you at Thanksgiving, man.” Manny rolled right over him. “Dad had a binder on you, you know. He was not impressed with your credit score but your closure rates are fantastic. His words, not mine.”

“I- that’s weird but good?” Jake shook his head, tried to focus on why he had called and not the highs and lows of having pleased and disappointed the father of his maybe-ex-girlfriend. “Manny-”

“Oh man, what was up with that column in Amy’s paper yesterday? I’ve heard stories about Pembroke – or Captain Vul-”

“Manny!” Jake interrupted sharply. “As much as I’d love to rehash the column, and trust me, I would not, I’m actually working a case.”

“Oh sure, sorry,” Manny said. “What can I do for you?”

“I just needed to talk to someone on your Jazzy Pants task force,” Jake said. “One of my CIs OD’d today and I want to know how the investigation’s playing out, maybe there’s something we can do out of the Nine-Nine-”

“Jazzy Pants task force?” Manny said.

“Yeah, Pembroke said you guys are running it.”

“Hold on.” Jake heard muffled voices, the thump of the phone headset being set down, then finally Manny came back on. “Yeah, we don’t have a task force.”

Jake felt a weird chill, and he pressed the phone a little harder to his ear.

“Peralta?”

“I’ve gotta go,” Jake said. “Thanks, Manny.”

He hung up without waiting for a reply. Jake got up and crossed to Rosa’s desk. She was typing, but her fingers stopped when she glanced up and saw his face.

“We need to go talk to someone at Kings County,” he said.

Rosa grabbed her gun and her badge. “Let’s go.”

CHAPTER 12

#b99 fic #peraltiago #jake and amy au #newspaper au #life writes its own stories

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