#oh and I also wrote this in my note book instead of doing my work

[f1nneas]

I wish I had a babygirlicious man next to me to keep me company right now 😼😉

[potatoplace]

We Can Do This

Feysand x Reader

kinktober day 2 | one night stand, threesome, pregnancy

kinktober '24 masterlist | Poly!ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist

We Can Fix This (part 2) | We Can Do This Together (Part 3)

Story Summary: You meet Feyre and Rhys at your friend Emerie's wedding, and enjoy a long, pleasurable night with the married couple. A month later, though, a certain stick turns pink.

Warnings: Talk of an emotionally abusive ex (very brief), smut, smut, smut, 3k words of smut, pregnancy

Words: ~5.1k

Author's Note: ahhhh I love this one so much. I'm terrified of being pregnant and having a child to raise but if Feysand were the coparents? I miiight reconsider. Also. I am still so obsessed with these two, I don't think it will ever end. And also I wrote waaaay more smut than I planned. Like. I know it's kinktober. But this was supposed to be like a 3k word fic and instead it's 3k of smut and 2k of after smut consequences. Still. I love it!! I hope you guys like it!

18+ only pls

🤍💜🤍🩵🤍

The wedding was lovely, and the brides were so, so happy. Emerie, your closest friend at work, had gotten married to lovely, kind blonde named Mor.

Their ceremony was beautiful, complete with heartfelt vows that had you shedding a few tears, and seeing the two have their first married kiss made you long to have the same joy.

Until your brain kicked in, and you remembered that you were in no way ready to be in a relationship.

Your last boyfriend had been an absolute ass, attempting to control everything from what you wore and ate to who you spent your time with.

Emerie had been so helpful in getting you out of that relationship, managing to talk sense into your love-addled brain. You had booked it, and moved into your own apartment- the first time you had ever lived alone.

That was nearly a year ago at this point, but you were still working through your insecurities and inability to trust.

So, no relationships for you for the foreseeable future.

The dancing had already started, but you weren't in the mood to dance, especially not alone. Instead, you made your way to the bar, leaning against it with one arm while you waited for the bartender, watching your friend dance with her new bride.

"What would you like?"

You turned back to face the bartender, answering "a glass of rosé, please," and flashed a bright smile at him.

He busied himself with pouring your drink, and you barely noticed when someone else leaned against the bar, to your right.

You tilted your head to look at them, and your heart nearly stopped. The woman in front of you was so breathtaking, so absolutely flawless in her midnight blue dress. Her brilliant blue eyes met yours and she smiled at you warmly, your breath catching at the sight. Her face was a work of art, more divine than any sculptor could ever hope to capture.

The bartender handed you your wine, and asked the woman for her order- a whiskey on ice.

"Hello, my name is Feyre," the woman introduced herself, and if you thought she hadn't been able to be any more attractive, you were wrong once she spoke. Her voice was husky and low, and something in the way she spoke promised nothing but pleasure and long nights, sending heat straight between your thighs.

"My name is Y/N," you replied, doing your best to keep your voice even and not betray just how effected you were by five words.

She repeated your name, testing it on her tongue. "Absolutely beautiful," Feyre said quietly. She thanked the bartender when he passed her her drink, and she took a small sip. Your eyes catalogued the way her throat moved when she swallowed, how her tongue darted out to lick her lips. "How do you know the brides?"

"Oh, I'm a work friend of Emerie's. She keeps me sane, if I'm being honest," you laughed, and Feyre joined you, such a beautiful noise that you found yourself wanting to hear it again. "And yourself?"

"Mor is my husband's cousin, but I think of her as one of my sisters at this point," Feyre replied, and her words made your heart sink slightly.

Married.

"That's lovely, that you get along with your in-laws," you said, trying to conceal your downed hopes at a wonderful evening with the woman in front of you.

"Mm, I definitely feel lucky to get along with her."

Just as she finished speaking, a man slid up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her neck lightly. He grabbed the drink from her hand and took a deep sip, replacing it in her grasp.

"Oh, Y/N, this is my husband, Rhys," Feyre said, and the man turned to look at you.

It figures that the two most beautiful people you would probably ever meet were married to each other.

His eyes were such a deep blue color that they nearly looked violet, and his hair shined blue-black in just the right lighting. His face itself was gorgeous, those high cheekbones making him look positively regal.

"It's nice to meet you," you said, feeling more shy now with the both of them in front of you.

"I can say the same, darling," Rhys purred at you.

Their voices alone could probably coax you to climax with how heavenly, or perhaps sinful, they both sounded.

His hands had drifted further up Feyre's body, resting just underneath the bust of her dress, his thumbs stroking against the fabric there.

You couldn't help that your eyes were drawn there.

Or that's what you told yourself, as both Feyre and Rhys smirked at you when they caught your eyes, obviously having seen where they'd drifted.

Your cheeks heated, but you refused to look away from them.

That made Feyre smile coyly at you, and she placed a gentle hand on your arm. “Are you here with anyone tonight, darling?”

You shook your head. “No, I hadn’t found anyone… suitable enough.” You tried to keep your voice confident, possibly even bold, with the renewed hope for the night blooming between your thighs.

“What a shame,” Rhys drawled, eyes raking over your form. “You just might have to come home with us, it would be even more of a shame for you to go home alone.”

Your cheeks flushed further at his words, and you stepped a bit closer to the devastatingly beautiful pair.

“Maybe I should.”

Feyre turned her head to look at the dance floor, where most of the wedding party was enjoying the night. “I don’t think Mor or Emerie would mind if we slipped out of the party a bit early, do you, darling?” She asked, turning her eyes back to yours, keeping you captive in her gaze.

“Not one bit,” you said breathlessly, and that was all the pair needed to disentangle themselves and each take one of your arms in theirs, guiding you to the exit at a casual pace.

The three of you grabbed your coats, Rhys slipping yours over your arms before repeating the action with his wife. They led you to a sleek black car, and Feyre led you to the backseat before joining you, Rhys taking the wheel.

The car ride could have taken an hour for all you cared, because the moment you were buckled and moving, Feyre was on you, her lips capturing yours in a searing kiss, filled with her fiery desire, and her hands were already exploring your body over the fabric of your dress.

She squeezed your breasts, testing the fullness of them before pinching at your nipples, the sensitive buds hardening in response, all the while her mouth was making a mess of your neck, leaving bite marks and hickeys in their wake. One of her hands trailed down your abdomen, down your thigh to the hem of your dress and slipped under it, dragging up your inner thigh and straight to your core. Her fingers ran over your slit, a breathy moan leaving you as they did. Feyre’s seductive laugh in your ear had you widening your legs for her, giving her better access as your hands clutched at her shoulders, slipping between silky fabric and soft skin.

“No panties? Naughty little girl,” Feyre whispered, just as two fingers dipped between your folds, and Feyre let out a groan when she felt how soaked you were, just for them.

Those same to fingers drifted up, making small, quick circles on your clit, building your pleasure up, up, up-

The door just to your right opened, a gush of cold air entering the car, and Rhys chuckled lowly behind you.

“Couldn’t wait, sweet wife of mine?”

Feyre grinned up at him, her hand already lifting to her mouth, and she sucked your arousal off her fingers, the actions sending another pulse to your core. You whimpered at the sight of her, still slightly leaning over you, her hair disheveled from your wandering hands. “Of course I couldn’t, husband, not with such a sweet treat waiting for me between these thighs.”

Strong arms wrapped around you, and you heard the click of your seatbelt just before your were pulled out of the car, and right into Rhys’s capable hold. Feyre followed just behind, shutting the door behind her and handing a pair of keys to the valet.

Because you weren’t just at a house, you were at a high rise apartment- one with actual security, and a front desk, and a valet for christ’s sake!

You were distracted from that a moment later, Rhys’s lips ghosting across your ear as he whispered, “I am going to absolutely devour you.”

Melting- you had to be melting at this point, the heat between your thighs having built to an inferno, every inch of your skin crying out for these two strangers’ touch.

Once the three of you were in the elevator, Feyre stood in front of you, caging you entirely between the two of them. “Feeling good, darling?” She asked, running her thumb over your cheek. You nodded- you were feeling more than good. In fact, this was the best you had felt in over a year.

Feyre smiled, so dazzling your breath hitched, and she leaned in for a gentle kiss.

The elevator dinged, and the three of you left the elevator, Feyre opening the one lone door at the end of the short hallway while Rhys carried you in, making his way into another hallway and finally arriving in a grand bedroom.

He gently set you down on the bed, your feet just barely dangling off of the edge. Rhys got on his knees before you, and brought your right foot to rest on his thigh as he undid the tie of your shoe. Feyre entered the room a moment later, her coat and shoes already off. She padded across the plush carpet and crawled onto the bed, coming to rest behind you.

Feyre pulled your jacket down, uncovering the skin of your arms to the warm air of their bedroom as Rhys moved on to your left shoe, discarding them to his right once they were both removed.

“Let’s get you out of the dress, darling,” Feyre suggested, already pushing your hair aside and reaching for the zipper, slowly dragging it down your spine. You shuddered slightly under her touch, her fingers lingering along the base of your spine.

“Stand up for us, doll,” Rhys said, holding your hands and helping you up. Feyre moved the straps of your dress off your shoulders, and it slid off your body to pool on the floor, revealing that you were bare underneath.

Rhys clicked his tongue. “Naughty naughty girl, wearing no underwear to a wedding,” he playfully scolded you, bopping your nose with his index finger.

You bit your lip, nervous at your nakedness and how, well- how clothed they still were. “They ruined the silhouette of the dress…”

Feyre laughed behind you. “I know, darling, I'm not wearing any either.”

Rhys gasped in fake surprise. “Two naughty girls in front of me, hmm? How ever will I punish you…” He trailed off, eyes running over your naked form and his wife, hovering behind you with her hands on your hips.

“I know a way,” Feyre suggested, her lips hovering over your neck. “You could… ‘make’ us play with each other.”

You nodded your head without thinking- anything from either of them and your night would be perfect.

Rhys hummed, thinking it over. “That could work, sweet wife. Y/N, would you like to do the honors and undress Feyre?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes, please,” you groaned, already turning to face Feyre, who was grinning at you, already pulling her hair to the side. You wrapped your arms around her, fumbling for the zipper for a second before slowly dragging it down, and tugged it off of her shoulders. Her dress fell to her feet, your eyes greedily taking in her perfect body.

Your hands came up to cup her chest, thumbs rolling over her nipples and eliciting a small gasp from her lips. “Beautiful,” you murmured, before leaning in and sucking one nipple into your mouth, rolling your tongue over it. One of Feyre’s hands grabbed your hair, keeping your head in place as the other pulled your lower half closer towards her, your bare stomachs resting together as your mouth moved to the other nipple, repeating its movements.

At the sound of leather creaking, you released Feyre’s nipple and turned, eyes met with the sight of Rhys palming himself through his pants, seated in a high backed leather chair in the corner of the room, with a perfect view of the bed. “Don’t mind me, girls, keep playing.”

Feyre decided to follow his order first, spinning you so that you were facing away from the bed, and she gently pushed you down onto it, gesturing for you to scoot up further until you were all the way on.

She spread your legs and crawled between them, resting on her knees and elbows and she dove in, licking a long stripe up your slit. One of your hands shot down, grabbing a fistful of her hair before you could think. Feyre’s tongue played along your clit, lapping at it a few times before going further down to taste your arousal from the source.

Her tongue fucked into you and you squirmed against where Feyre’s hands were holding down your hips, crying out in pleasure. “Please,” you begged, not even sure of what you needed besides more.

Feyre pulled away slightly, her lips hovering over your pussy. “What’s that, darling?” She asked teasingly, smirking when all you did was cant your hips up to her face. “Did you need more?”

“Mhm,” you whined pitifully, half heartedly attempting to push her head back onto you.

“If you insist,” Feyre said, pulling away from you entirely, and you cried out at the loss of contact.

“What are you-?”

Your question was cut off when Feyre positioned herself above your face, sinking down slowly to let your mind catch up.

What you didn’t expect was a tongue to lick up your cunt, and lips to latch around your clit in the next moment. “Fuck,” you moaned out loudly, your head rising up and hitting Feyre, hovering above you.

“Come on, love, open up,” Feyre coaxed, lowering herself slightly, and this time your brain took the hint, your tongue sticking out to lick at her center, the sweet taste of her costing your tongue.

You moaned into her when Rhys’s tongue returned to your clit, working you up to your peak quickly as you own tongue danced over Feyre, moving between her clit and soaked hole as Feyre’s rocking hips allowed. You toppled over the edge when Feyre’s soft hands pinched both of your nipples, and Rhys’s teeth grazed ever so slightly over your clit, the slight pain mixed with overwhelming pleasure tipping you over the edge.

Feyre’s fingers slipped into your cunt when Rhys’s mouth abandoned your clit, pushing in and out of you, stretching you out.

A moment later you heard the crinkle of a wrapper- a condom, thank god you didn’t have to ask- and Rhys’s warm body was between your legs, keeping you spread apart. Feyre’s fingers left your hole, but were quickly replaced by the thick head of Rhys’s cock, pushing in just the tip before pulling out, sing you.

You whined into Feyre’s cunt, and her hips stuttered above you, sinking down further for a moment before lifting back up.

“Are you ready for me, Y/N?” Rhys asked, hands tapping on your inner thighs. You nodded your head as much as you could, unwilling to take your mouth of off Feyre. “Use your words, babygirl,” he said, tapping your thighs again.

You pulled off of Feyre with a groan and moaned, “Yes,” before latching your mouth back onto Feyre’s clit.

Rhys chuckled when Feyre cried out again, her hands on your breasts propping her up as she came. He pushed in to the hilt, and your loud moan was muffled by Feyre’s skin, her hips still shaking over you.

She went to move off of you, but your arms came up to grip her thighs, keeping her seated on your face- it would be her throne for the rest of time, if you had your way. “Y/N!” Feyre screamed as you kept her over the edge as long as you could, tongue working furiously as Rhys began pumping in and out slowly. Each heavenly drag of his cock made you moan into Feyre’s cunt, and you knew you were in for a long night.

Feyre finally pried herself away from your face, falling back against the bed for a few seconds as Rhys continued fucking you, his pace still slow and steady, a thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit.

“Such a good girl, taking my cock so well,” Rhys praised, and your face scrunched in delight as you beamed up at him, a squeaky moan leaving your lips when he hit just the right spot.

“Oh, that was delightful,” Feyre groaned, moving so she was laying to your right, hand stroking over your stomach. “Make her do it again, Rhysie,” she demanded, looking to her husband.

“Yes, dear,” Rhys said with a smirk, angling his cock in the same way again, hitting the sensitive area once more, the same noise pulled from your lips. Feyre grinned in delight, her hand moving up to your chest slowly.

“We are going to have so much fun,” she whispered in your ear. “Are you going to be a good girl for us?”

You nodded your head vigorously, needing to please them in that moment.

“That’s good, sweet little thing. Very, very good,” Rhys said, the last three words punctuated by deep thrusts that made you see stars, your second orgasm of the night claiming you.

“Do you think we could get… five out of you?” Feyre asked softly as you came down, Rhys still buried inside of you. You nodded your head, even though you weren’t sure they would be able to. But you would be damned if you didn’t let them try. “Let’s get started on the third, then, babygirl,” Feyre said, a soft kiss placed on your lips as her hand played with your nipples.

Oh, yes. You were definitely in for a long night.

🤍💜🤍🩵🤍

Sunlight was just beginning to light the room when you awoke, tangled between two warm bodies. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes, for a moment not remembering at all where you had ended up last night, before it all came rushing back.

Feyre. Rhys. The best sex of my life.

You looked to both sides of you carefully, and after seeing that the two of them were still fast asleep, you carefully slinked out of their bed, slipping on your shoes and dress from the night before, and pulling on your coat as you made your way to the door of their bedroom. Thankfully, your keys and phone were still in the zippered pocket you had put them in the night before, so you wouldn’t have a problem getting home.

Before you left the room, you took one last look at the couple that would occupy your dreams for the next few months. You sighed quietly, and opened the door gently, shutting it softly behind you. After a moment of trying, you found the front door.

The elevator was thankfully empty the entire ride down, and the lobby was free of everyone but the front desk person and security guard. You smiled awkwardly at both of them as you left the building, feeling so, incredibly out of place.

You caught the train home, collapsing into your bed after shrugging off your dress and removing your shoes.

Last night had been perfect. It was fun, casual, and had boosted your confidence incredibly high.

As you snuggled into your pillows, you couldn’t help but miss the warmth you had woken up in, but you knew it was better this way. They were married and you weren’t ready to commit.

That’s what you told yourself, at least.

🤍💜🤍🩵🤍

The next month was hard.

You had been handed a massive project at work before Emerie had come back from her honeymoon, and you had been struggling with it ever since, even with some input from the other woman.

You had reacted poorly to a few choices that your boss had made regarding the project, both of them ruining a weeks worth of work each.

Then, your ex, George, had found where you lived, and had started harassing you there and at work again, like he had right after you’d left him.

Overall, you’d had so many reasons to not question how vulnerable and exhausted you were feeling.

It was only when you had hurled your guts up in your work’s bathroom for the third day in the row that your realized.

You hadn’t had your period in over two months. And your heart dropped into your stomach.

You were crouched over a toilet during your lunch break, peeing on a stick to figure out if you were just being paranoid.

But you knew. You knew.

And when that stick turned pink, a positive plus sign so dark and obvious you couldn’t deny it, you cried in the pharmacy bathroom stall.

You made your way back to your office once you had dried your tears, so many fears playing in your mind.

You were single, unmarried, hell, the child was a product of a threesome with a married couple. You hadn’t felt ready for a relationship, let alone a child.

But… with your hand resting on your stomach, you felt… joy. Hope. A baby was growing inside of you, against all odds. The three of you had made sure to use a condom every time Rhys fucked you, and how often did condoms really fail?

What are we going to do, little nugget? You thought to yourself, your hand rubbing a soothing circle over your still flat abdomen.

🤍💜🤍🩵🤍

Two weeks later, and you had made a final decision. You were keeping the baby.

You had also decided that you needed to see Rhys and Feyre again, to at least tell them what was happening.

But you were nervous. So, so nervous as you stood outside of their apartment building. It looked even more intimidating than the night you had first come here.

You made your way to the front doors, expecting them to open when you pushed on the door.

It didn’t budge.

“Ma’am, please state your name and who you are trying to visit,” the security guard next to the door said.

“Oh, I’m uhm. My name is Y/N, I’m here to see Rhys and Feyre, please.”

The guard flipped through a tablet, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, ma’am, you aren’t on the list of approved visitors. You’re welcome to call them and be put on the list, but until them I’m afraid you have to leave.”

Your face flushed, embarrassed with the fact that you couldn’t call the couple.

“Uhm… Would there be any way that I could just wait in the lobby for them, or you could call them for me? I really, really need to speak with them, but I don’t have their phone numbers,” you pleaded, hoping that the man would take pity on you.

He sighed. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, ma’am. You’ll just have to find another way to contact them.”

It was your turn to sigh, tears involuntarily spilling from your eyes. “Thank you, I- I’m sorry,” you said, sniffling to keep the worst of the tears at bay until you were able to turn away from him.

You wiped at your eyes as you started walking, tears pouring from your eyes as your heightened hormones kicked your panic into overdrive-

And then you smacked directly into a broad chest.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried, your eyes on the ground so you wouldn’t have to see the person’s expression.

“Hey, it’s o- Y/N?” A velvety voice asked.

Rhys.

You looked up, blinking the tears from your eyes as you took in the male. He was just as beautiful as you remembered, and you knew you made a mistake in coming here.

You were an absolute wreck, and here he was, a Greek god come to life.

“Is everything alright, Y/N?” He asked gently, using his thumbs to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

“I- I-” you stuttered, the words catching in your throat, more tears spilling over and sobs tore from your lungs. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest for a comforting hug.

“Let’s get you inside, hmm, darling? We can talk and get you some coffee, alright?”

You nodded in agreement, still feeling unable to speak.

He released you from his hold but kept one of his arms wrapped around yours, and guided you into the building.

This time when you entered the elevator, you noticed that Rhys used a special key on the button pad, causing the lowest button to light up, which he pushed.

The ride was quick, and he ushered you out of the door and through their front door.

“Rhysie, are you home?” Feyre’s voice asked from far away, likely a few rooms down.

“Yes, love, and I think you should come out here, I found a special someone on my way home,” Rhys called out, his hands automatically taking your jacket and hanging it alongside his. A hand on your low back guided you into a sitting room, and Feyre came out of the hallway that you believed led to their bedroom.

“Oh, Y/N!” Feyre exclaimed, obviously not having expected you to be the visitor. “This is a pleasant surprise, what are you doing here love?” As she got closer, she could see how red and puffy your face was from crying, and the tears still running down your face, at a slower pace now. “Is everything alright?”

You shook your head, but couldn’t speak, still too choked up from your tears.

“Let’s sit down, okay?” Feyre said, taking you by the arm and leading you to a couch, sinking down onto it with you. “Rhys, would you go get her something warm to drink?”

“Of course. Would you like coffee, love?”

“Oh, uh, no, I’ll have tea, please- non-caffeinated if you can,” you replied, heat coloring your cheeks.

Rhys’s brow furrowed for a moment before smoothing out, and he nodded. “I’ll be right back, girls.”

He left in the direction that you assumed their kitchen was in, and Feyre’s hand came to rub small circles on your upper back.

“Do you want to talk about it, love?”

“No, but… I need to,” you sniffled, rubbing your sleeves against your eyes.

“Okay… Would you like me to guess?” Feyre asked, pinching your side lightly and you giggled softly.

“No, no, I don’t… It’s not something that you should find out in that way.”

Rhys came back at that moment, three mugs clutched in his hands. “Alright, here’s a lemon ginger tea for you, Y/N, and a coffee for you Fey.” He sat in the chair to your left, and sat his mug down on the coffee table. “Now, why are we so lucky to see you again today, love?”

You took a sip of the tea, thankful for the warmth, and the flavor helped the the nausea that had started building in your stomach. “I’m, uh…” You trailed off for a moment, trying to figure out how best to phrase this. But really, there was no good way to say this. “I’m pregnant.”

Both of them blinked at you, confused.

“I… I haven’t had… sex… with anyone besides the two of you in almost a year and- and I know that we used condoms and it doesn’t make sense and you probably want absolutely nothing to do with me- I’ll just go,” you rambled, setting your cup down and tried to stand up, only for both of them to clamp a hand down on you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Feyre asked, her tone… happy?

You didn’t understand.

“What makes you think we want nothing to do with you, love?” Rhys asked, one of his hands turning your head to look at him, and you could swear you saw silver lining his eyes.

“Because… I was a one night stand, and I… You two are married, and perfect, and I’m just…”

“Just what, hmm? You’re perfect too, you know,” Feyre said, and arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you into her side.

“That’s not-” you sighed. “I just mean that this is nothing that you could have planned for, or wanted. That’s all.”

“Actually, Y/N…” Rhys began. “Feyre and I have been trying to have a child for the last two years, with no success. We want a child, and have wanted a child for so long. Maybe our meeting you was some divine intervention, leading us to something we never knew we wanted, along with all that we’ve ever wanted.”

Tears filled your eyes as he spoke, his kind words washing over you.

“If I can be honest with you, Y/N, Rhys and I… We haven’t been able to keep you out of our thoughts in the past six weeks, we were so close to just asking Emerie for your phone number.”

The tears spilled over, and Rhys got up from his chair and scooped you up, taking your place and setting you on his lap. Feyre grabbed a tissue from the box on the coffee table and dabbed at your eyes, Rhys’s hand smoothing your hair out of your face.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Feyre cooed at you, kissing your cheeks. “Unless you don’t want the child…?”

You shook your head vigorously, strands of your hair smacking Rhys in the face. “No, I… I want to keep my little nugget, it’s just. I’m so happy,” you cried, your sobs returning in full force.

“Oh, love,” Rhys chuckled. “Everything is going to be okay. We can do this. There are three of us after all, and that means two people to help take care of you while you’re carrying our sweet little nugget, as you called it.”

They both placed a hand on your lower abdomen, and you all let it sink in.

You were having a baby.

And with the two of them by your side, you almost felt prepared.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff

[dat-town]

abcdlove

Characters: school radio club leader!Taesan & class president!female reader

Setting & genre: high school au, coming of age, first love, fluff, a hint of enemies to lovers but it’s only in the girl’s head

Summary: You convinced yourself that you hated Han Taesan after what he had done in sophomore year but now you have to work together on a senior project and maybe he isn’t that bad. Or maybe just for your heartbeat.

Warnings: stage names are used, OC has negative opinion about Taesan and Leehan in the beginning, mentions of social and parental pressure, the amount of banana milk consumed might not be healthy, hopefully not too ooc even though i wrote it within like 2 weeks after @restlessmaknae started sending me bonedo content

Words: 9.6k

Author’s note: this is the product of the amount of Ann Liang books i binge read recently, the instagram algorithm and @restlessmaknae’s marketing for Zico’s kids. this really pulled me out of my writing slump, so thank you for that! honestly my first impression of Taesan was that he looks like a tsundere, so that’s pretty much how it all started.

i'm pretty sure you guessed it; happy name day @restlessmaknae <3

read Leehan’s companion piece here

You had been following your well-planned route to success for years. You had already taken advanced courses at a prestigious hagwon, a private after-school academy for the subjects you totally needed to ace at CSAT. You also offered tutoring services to underclassmen, volunteered at the local library during summer and carefully chose your extracurriculars to align with the ideal student vision SKY universities had. You only needed to follow through the plan in your senior year too and you would be fine. You would finally make it.

Needless to say Han Taesan wasn’t part of your plans.

Yet, there he was standing right in front of the principal’s office where you were heading in all his 6 feet tall glory, his school uniform’s tie neatly done for once.

“What are you doing here?” You blurted out with no greeting when your steps slowly halted next to him, your jaw set and muscles tense.

Taesan turned his head slowly and looked at you impassively from under his dark fringe before speaking up in his raspy voice that made your classmates swoon whenever they heard him make a radio announcement.

“What does it look like?” He raised a brow as if he was telling you not to ask stupid things.

There could only be two kinds of reasons why somebody was called into the principal’s room: either very good or very bad. You had never gotten into trouble, so you were hoping for something positive but seeing the boy there wasn’t really promising. Not because he was a troublemaker or a bad student. He might not have been a straight A student like yourself but he was the leader of the school radio club and he was also generally liked among his peers as far as you knew. Your wariness was more so because you didn’t want to be associated with him in any way.

“Oh, both of you are already here. Wonderful! Come in, come in,” the office door opened and Principal Im rushed you inside with a welcoming smile.

At least, you could be sure by then that the news wasn't anything too bad.

You took a step to follow the man inside at the same time Taesan moved next to you as well which made you momentarily falter. However the boy merely reached out and put a hand onto the door’s edge to keep it from closing. You had to force yourself not to scoff at the fake gentleman-ish action and instead just duck under his arm to go inside the office.

You just sat down in one of the cushy chairs and smoothed out the lines of your school uniform skirt when you heard the door close and soon enough Taesan took the chair next to you.

“Alright, I won’t even waste your precious time since I know both of you are busy. I called the two of you here because as representatives of the senior classes, I would like the two of you to conduct interviews with your classmates and prepare a pre-recorded radio segment that can be broadcasted on graduation day. It can be about anything you want: what the students’ aspirations are or what they liked the best in high school. I trust you will do a great job,” the principal smiled at you hopefully but you could feel your own polite smile freeze onto your face. This was not how you imagined yourself spending the first term of senior year.

“But…”

“Yes, Y/N?” The principal looked at you expectantly and you could feel Taesan’s dark eyes on you as well which snapped you out of your confused stupor.

“Why the two of us?”

“Of course, you can get others to help too if you want but you have exceptional organizing skills as I heard and Taesan already has experience with our recording system and editing softwares. You two were the first ones we could think of, but of course I can’t force you…”

“It would be an honor, Principal Im,” you hurried to stop him there because there was no way you would have said no to a task like this. Not only because you could hardly say no anyways but also because it would look good on your resume. The only thing that bothered you was having to do it with a boy you could not stand. If you had that much time and you could do so, you would have gladly done it alone without his help but no matter how much you hated it, Principal Im was right: he had the skills to perfect a radio segment.

“Great! If you don’t have further questions, then good luck!”

“Okay, what about we meet after school to discuss the plans?” You asked immediately once you left the principal office because you had less than 5 minutes until first period and since you didn’t share a class with Taesan, you rarely ran into each other unplanned (thank god) and you would need your color-coded planner from your bag to plan any further than the afternoon.

“I have a radio club thing until 6,” Taesan simply said, not offering any alternatives, so you let out a sigh. Of course. What did you expect?

“And I have academy classes every other day,” you pointed out because he wasn’t the only one busy. “Then I can just email you your parts and we don’t need to–”

“So you can complain later that I’m freeloading off your hard work? No thanks,” the boy interrupted you and your gaze sharpened at him. He leaned casually against the corridor’s wall, a hand reaching up to loosen his tie and tilted his head at you as if to challenge you to protest. “We can make do during lunch hour.”

You opened your mouth, ready to tell him that you had plans already but going over your History notes, when it was just the first week of the term and you were ahead of the course work anyway, wasn’t that necessary even though you hated giving in to his idea.

“Okay, let’s meet outside at the benches then,” you agreed, telling yourself to be the bigger person, and turned your back on the boy before he could see the frustration bubbling up in you.

You and Han Taesan had the kind of history that you didn’t really like to revisit. That’s why your initial reaction was to roll your eyes whenever you heard his voice on the school radio or to puke your guts out when girls gushed about his ‘tsundere charm’. Their words, not yours.

Actually you would have probably not cared about the guy if it wasn’t for your model student campaign which he had ruined. Last year the school had run an event to choose a student representative by voting and every candidate could have a pre-recorded segment on the radio. You had your own carefully recorded and edited audio file with the best convincing speech you could prepare and emailed them the sharing link on time just to hear yourself sing your go-to karaoke song through the radio on the big day. In panic, you ran to the school radio broadcasting station only to find Taesan sitting there by the control panel with headphones over his ears, calmly letting the audio play well past the two minutes mark, seemingly not finding it weird at all that somebody tried to win the campaign with a karaoke rendition of a love song instead of saying a few words. As it turned out, you managed to share your entire recordings folder with the radio team but the club president, instead of playing the file titled campaign_speech_final.mp3, decided that AUD_20230326_192251.mp3 was the right track for your model student image. That week you not only lost that title to the grade’s pretty boy, but you lost your pride as well and it was all Taesan’s fault. Not that he ever thought to apologize or right his wrongdoings. So no, you weren’t looking forward to working with him at all.

He was late.

You had already dotted down six different questions and a rough program outline with your half-finished, now cold rosé pasta lunch menu  on the side by the time Taesan put his tray down on the outdoor table.

“You are late,” you picked at him right away which earned you a rather confused look.

“It’s still lunch hour,” he pointed out and dug into his own kimchi jjigae like he had all the time in the world. His behavior was seriously dancing on your nerves.

“Whatever. Let’s get into it,” you prompted because you didn’t have time to argue about semantics or his attitude. “We should divide the related tasks this week, finalize the questions and gather people for the interviews, then we can start on those next week.”

“What’s the rush? We have months until graduation,” Taesan questioned and while he was right (or because), you had the sudden urge to strangle him right there. You forced yourself to stay calm.

“Well, I don’t like to leave things to the last minute. Closer to graduation, we will be busy with the exams and college applications anyway.”

“As if you don’t already have everything prepared,” he muttered absentmindedly, scooping more kimchi on his spoon, eating without a care.

You pursed your lips, annoyed. You needed to remind yourself again that you had no time nor the energy to argue with him if you wanted to get this discussion done before your upcoming English class.

“Khm… so we can agree on splitting the interviews between us, right? You interview your classmates and I will do mine. We just need a common question sheet,” you said, tapping the end of your pen on the table.

Whether it was the repetitive sound or your words, it managed to get Taesan’s attention. He looked up from his food and leaned forward on his elbows, his dark eyes sharpening their focus on you.

“How would you record the interviews?” He asked, simply yet you had a feeling it was a tricky question.

“On my phone?” You furrowed your brows. Wasn’t it obvious? How else did he expect you to do it?

“That won’t be good. We would have a huge difference in audio quality. So unless you are fine with that, you need proper equipment. I can borrow a portable mic from the radio club, but I’m not trusting you with that.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyes widened in disbelief but Taesan didn’t elaborate on his reason. Ridiculous. He was just looking for faults in your ideas.

You let out a huff of frustration.

“Are you that desperate that we work together?”

“It’s called professionalism, miss class president,” he taunted you, looking completely serious. “I don’t want to broadcast anything under my name that’s just ‘good enough’.”

“Do you now?” You snorted and rolled your eyes. As if it wasn’t him who played your singing for the entire school. Where was his professionalism then? Who was he to lecture you about it? But okay, you could be the bigger person if he was so freaking stubborn. “Fine. We can do the interviews together with your fancy mic. These are the initial questions I thought of.”

You slid your open notebook towards him with questions about what they used to dream of becoming as a kid, what they want to be now, what colleges and majors they considered as well as their most memorable moment at the school and what they would tell their younger selves or their underclassmen. Taesan furrowed his brows as he was reading through the draft, probably dissecting each of your questions like a poor lab rat but eventually didn’t say anything. You raised a brow at him when your eyes met and he just shrugged.

“Sounds good to me,” he said which didn’t really added value but at least he didn’t find something to pick on in everything you did.

The rest of the discussion went easier as it was obvious that he would be the editor and you would organize the interviews. You were already mentally preparing a survey to send out to the students via the group chats you usually used for class president duties to see when they would be free to conduct the interview among the slots you offered. Taesan wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about the hectic and busy scheduling in the upcoming weeks but eventually agreed to get it over with within two months tops. He must have realized too that the earlier you finished with this project, the sooner the two of you could part ways.

You had the first batch of interviews at the end of next week. After ruling out inconvenient locations, you ended up with the obvious option: doing the recordings in the school radio clubroom. You were against it at first because the last time you had been there you faced public humiliation, whispers behind your back for weeks about your singing and messed up campaign, but objectively speaking you knew it was the most reasonable choice, so you bit the bullet.

You arrived ahead of time, of course, but you were quite surprised that Taesan was already there too, setting up who-knows-what on the professional equipment. He looked up when the door opened, the sun hitting the side of his face, giving it a natural warm glow, a stark contrast to the coldness he often radiated. He acknowledged your presence with a nod then went back to his work, so you just put your stuff down next to the round table in the middle of the room and got ready with your nicely printed questionnaire.

For the most part, the interviews went well, the students showed up more or less on time for their own slot, Taesan let you do the talking, merely letting you know when a recording started or ended. It all started going down when the last interviewee for the day didn’t show up. After five minutes passed, you texted Wonyoung asking politely whether she forgot the interview but she didn’t answer. Ten more minutes of awkward silence while Taesan was playing (or texting, you couldn’t tell) on his phone, you tried calling her but with no success. You started getting restless and frustrated.

“She could have at least told us if she wasn’t going to come,” you muttered more to yourself than anything when your next call went to the voicemail as well. It was such a waste of time just waiting.

“Why do you always assume the worst of people? Maybe something happened and she can’t make it. She could be too sick to care about you blowing up her KakaoTalk,” Taesan looked up from his phone and there was something in his eyes that made you feel like you were in the wrong, like you were a sulky child because generally it wasn't like you were always this pessimistic about people, but before you could have argued, Taesan sighed. “You can go. I can interview her if she shows up until 6.”

Well, you could have taken his word and left. Wonyoung was his classmate and he probably didn’t have anything better to do anyways. There was a set list of questions and not much to mess up. But just as he didn’t want you to handle his beloved mic alone, you didn’t want to leave it to him alone. So you just stubbornly held his gaze, trying to come up with a more profound reason when the clubroom’s door opened and Wonyoung stepped inside in the cheerleading squad’s PE clothes.

“Sorry. Practice got delayed. Thanks for waiting for me,” she panted and Taesan sent you a ‘told you so’ look which made you want to commit atrocities. You hated not being right and even more to be reminded of it.

“It’s okay. Catch your breath,” you turned to the girl with a reassuring smile but you were undeniably relieved when you could finally bid goodbye to her and pack up. It was getting late.

However, when you saw that Taesan was still saving the audio files and uploading them to your shared cloud folder, then putting away the recording device and the mic, you stalled around the door, feeling inconsiderate to leave earlier.

“Just go,” the boy muttered gently when he noticed your hesitation and you didn’t need to be told twice.

On your way to the bus stop, you stopped by at your favorite corner convenience store for some banana milk and almost missed your bus but luckily the driver saw you running and stopped.

“Thank you,” you bowed to the middle aged man who just mumbled something about youngsters these days, then tapped your transportation card against the sensor before looking for a place to sit.

Since it was past the rush hour, there were quite a few empty seats but there was one next to a familiar face close to the door. He had put on a hoodie over his uniform and had his head against the window, eyes closed but you would have easily recognized his long ass limbs everywhere. With the taste of your hurt pride still fresh on your tongue you walked past him, sitting down in the very back, only checking on Taesan a few times to see if he managed to wake up in time to get off at his stop.

Even without the interview project, senior year was busy. You felt like your days were piles of classes, homework, mock tests, real tests, tutoring and studying. Sometimes you memorized English vocabulary or dates for History class even during your lunch breaks or on bus rides because that way you could make the most out of your time. Some might have argued that you took it too seriously but if you wanted to get into the top universities of the country, you had to.

No wonder you spent the two hours you had between classes and tutoring on Friday in the library too, working on your Literature essay. It was kind of boring and you had a long week; you justified your frequent yawns and slow blinking. You didn’t even notice when you slipped into a dreamless sleep, not until you woke up with your head over your folded arms on the table.

As you were still in the haze, instead of panicking that you might have missed your tutoring class, you slowly blinked yourself back into consciousness and the first thing you saw was a pair of eyes.

The boy sitting at the table next to yours was looking at you with something akin to the mix of concern and amusement but you were too busy committing the lovely almond shape and chocolate brown shade of his eyes to your memory to be bothered by it.

Then the realization hit you like a truck because it was no other than Han freaking Taesan.

Oh, did he always have such pretty eyes?

Realizing that you were staring, you quickly turned your gaze away, sat up properly and fixed your messy hair while mentally reprimanding yourself for letting your sleepiness take too much control over you.

You hastily checked the time on your watch, sighing in relief that you only napped for about 15 minutes, so you still had time to finish what you were doing. Which was…? Ah, right, your essay.

You cleared your throat as you focused back on your homework, pretending not to be hyper aware of every chair creaking or pen against paper scribbling sound coming from the table on your left.

The next batch of interviews were scheduled a week later and you did everything in your power to avoid Taesan, hoping that he would forget that embarrassing little encounter you had in the library. Not like he was looking for you either but now that you have become more aware of his presence, you suddenly noticed him everywhere. He wasn’t just the subject of your classmates’ talks and an annoying voice from the radio anymore, he was in the canteen, on your regular bus, on the corridor between classes. Really, you wondered if it was your mind’s self-sabotaging doing or you just managed to ignore him previously. Since you tended to be laser focused on what to do, often walking by people you know without recognizing them, it wouldn’t have surprised you that much.

Still whenever you saw him, he was usually alone if not with juniors from the radio club, so you were a bit taken aback (and you weren’t sure you were hiding it well) when a bunch of his friends from his class were already in the clubroom by the time you got there. The door was left ajar, so you could hear Jungwon’s bubbly laughter and Gyuvin teasing Taesan for ‘working oh so diligently’. They all fell silent when you pushed the door open wider and suddenly their attention was on you. Leehan patted Taesan’s upper back with a grin and muttered something about ‘boss lady is here’ which earned him a glare.

“We will be on our best behavior,” Jungwon saluted with a promise when it turned out they booked the first three slots of the session on purpose, so they could sit through each other’s interviews. While you interviewed people by themselves, since the entire school would hear the edited version anyways, you supposed it couldn’t be a problem if they really did behave. They were friends after all, if they wanted to share them why not?

Them chuckling at some parts of each other’s answers or whisper-shouted hollering about future ambitions was a bit distracting but nothing seriously annoying. You could only hide your laugh with burying your face in your hands when Gyuvin recited a freshmen memory as his most memorable with a prank that ended with the four of them becoming friends. Apparently the day before the first term’s end, right on the edge of the summer holiday, Taesan had brought soap dispenser-shaped water guns into the PE changing rooms, so whenever somebody just tried to wash their hand, they got wet. It shouldn’t have been funny since it was rather childish, but glancing at the always stern and intimidating Taesan and seeing him smile at the memory turned it into something lovely even if it ended with the four of them arguing about whose was the best prank out of all the ones they did over the years.

It was truly one of a kind to see Taesan interact with his friends, people he felt comfortable around. He suddenly became talkative and loud yet warm and gentle when he scolded Gyuvin like an Asian mom for falling asleep at Miss Lee’s class again but promised to send him his notes once he got home.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged when he caught you red-handed watching him still after he literally pushed his friends out of the door.

Despite witnessing this side of him, if you wanted to be honest, it didn’t quite sit right with you that he was friends with Kim Leehan. The popular boy might not have ever rubbed salt into your wounds by reminding you that he was chosen as the model student representative of the school instead of you who was the grade’s academically best student, the defeat still hurt. You didn’t like to lose in general. So while you knew it was a far-stretched idea, your mind couldn’t stop coming up with scenarios to prove that Taesan sabotaged your campaign speech on purpose to help his friend and it made you irritable and restless during the rest of the interview sessions.

When you were finally alone, it made you blurt out:

“Was it a prank too?”

Taesan froze mid-movement when you spoke up. He was doing the finishing touches, getting ready to leave as it was just the two of you. He slid the headphones, which he used to make sure the recording quality was good, down around his neck.

“What?” He furrowed his brows, visibly confused and you weren’t surprised, he had probably long forgotten how he had humiliated you.

“My model student speech last year,” you said, your nails digging into your palms, bitterness sweeping into your features.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the boy claimed, firm in his standpoint which made you snort.

“Of course, you don’t,” you muttered, then grabbed your bag and walked out of the door before you would say something you would regret.

A part of you thought that Taesan would ignore you the way you ignored him, especially after your callout (or whatever he wanted to call it), so it took you aback when the opposite happened.

As a class president you often had to help the homeroom teacher. It was nothing out of the ordinary when he called you into the teachers’ room and gave you a box of university application help books to hand out in class. It wasn’t really heavy but there was no proper handle on the box, so you had to hold it against your chest and it made it hard to see the stairs in front of your feet as you walked up to the classroom.

Students came and went both ways around you, nobody really paying attention to you struggling not to fall and you let out a little sigh of relief when you reached the first landing of the staircase without tripping. You adjusted your grip on the big brown box and was about to go on when the box crashed into somebody’s chest… or more like, stomach.

“Sorry, I…”

You were about to apologize automatically when you saw Taesan standing in front of you, very clearly on purpose. However, before you could have told him to move out of your way, he did the unthinkable: he easily took the box out of your hands, his knuckles brushing against your open palms as he did so.

“Hey! Give it back!” You reached out for the box again once you snapped out of your stupor but the boy’s hold on it was too strong.

“Stop being so stubborn for once,” he said, his quiet, deep voice washing over you in waves and then you could barely do anything but watch him turn around and walk up the stairs with ease, the box in his hands and his bag thrown over one of his shoulders.

You shuffled after him a bit awkwardly, halfway torn between being grateful because out of all people in the school only him was considerate enough to offer help and being offended and angry because what if he only did so because he pitied you now that he knew that you still held grudges over what happened last year.

That became a smaller worry though as you realized he was heading straight towards your classroom and you didn’t even want to guess the rumors starting if even just one gossipy girl saw him help you. You grew more anxious the closer you got but Taesan’s steps halted right before he got to the door. You almost bumped into his back at the sudden pause.

“Here,” he turned to you with the box that you took gingerly, making sure you didn’t touch this time.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, actually meaning it but you couldn’t tell with Taesan’s low hum and light on his feet disappearance if he believed you or not.

The third week of interviews went without a glitch. You were almost done which also added to your good mood. One less thing to worry about, one less to-do during your already busy weeks.

Taesan stayed behind in the clubroom this time too, hunching over the computer setup with the headphones on like always but for the first time you said bye. Or well your version of it.

“Don’t stay too late,” you told him loud enough, so he could hear you through the headphones but turned on your heels before you could have seen his reaction.

It was a good day, you decided. You got praised by your Literature teacher for your essay on the themes of social class and Confucian values in your recent obligatory read. The interviews went smoothly and the corner CU had a 1+1 promotion for your favorite banana milk. You even caught the bus just in time, getting on the vehicle after two giggling students. It was busier now than usual because lots of students had to stay longer in preparation for the Freshmen Open Day.

Apologies falling from your lips, you made your way through the crowd in the front of the bus and looked for a seat in the back. That’s where you caught sight of Taesan with his bag on the seat next to him and when your eyes met, he pulled his stuff into his lap. You hesitated for a moment but that was pretty much the only place left and it would have been more awkward if you didn’t take it. So you dropped the ignoring act, swung your bag to your front and sat down, drumming with your fingers on your knees. The bus departed from the stop and took a turn, the silence between the two of you becoming louder than the chatter around you.

You unzipped your bag and pulled out the banana milk bottles you just bought and held one out towards Taesan. The boy turned his head towards you, his dark eyes unsure and… was that blush on his cheeks? Your hands touched when he took the bottle from you, sending little tingles over your skin.

“Wanna listen?” He held out one of the earbuds of his wired earphone that he always seemed to have with him. So old-fashioned, so cool.

You felt shy as you looked him in the eye because it was like sharing something intimate. Still, you took the audio device and put it inside your right ear, smiling as the unfamiliar beats of a slower western song played. You pierced through the lid of the banana milk with your straw and hid your smile behind your drink when you saw Taesan do the same.

Maybe you were just warming up to each other after weeks of working together but it gave you the push you needed to ask about what you were listening to and it started a whole monologue about the kind of music Taesan liked and how his father introduced it to him. Honestly, he listened to a lot of bands you heard of but couldn’t really associate songs with and quite a few you hadn’t even heard about. You didn’t mind though, you liked listening to him talk about it, watching him gesture and slur his words when he got excited. It was a lovely side of him.

The bus ride never felt so short.

That one conversation and shared banana milk somehow led to daily song recommendations from the boy. He was always curious about your opinion even if you didn’t like it. Soon enough he could guess pretty accurately if you would like a song or not, so he even created a Spotify playlist just for you that he updated frequently. This turn of events was surely unexpected but not at all bad.

You also got to know that he would have liked to study sound engineering in university and you told him about your own ambitions and why it was so important for you to have near perfect grades and all those achievements. Belatedly you realized that you had never told anybody how much impact it had on you that you were constantly compared to your cousins.

It was a new side of Taesan you got to know, a side he didn’t show to just anybody and you realized it was the same with you. You hated showing weakness in front of others, yet it wasn’t too bad to admit to him that you tended to be judgemental with people because nobody had really been patient with you either before labeling you this or that.

But texting over the phone was one thing, you weren’t sure it would change anything in person. Sure, you had been seen together due to the interview project but that would be over soon. Not to mention you really didn’t want to deal with high school gossip in your last school year. And yet, you couldn’t help but look for Taesan whenever you were in the school canteen or near his clubroom. You caught yourself anticipating the radio announcements just to hear his voice. It was pathetic really, how fast you went from finding it annoying and purposefully ignoring him to waiting to see him.

Your heart did a little somersault when you actually saw him in the library one afternoon and only when you walked closer did you notice that he wasn’t just leaning over his papers but he was sleeping soundly, his pencil still in his hand, his textbook getting wrinkled under his weight. Briefly you wondered whether you should have looked for another place since Taesan must have chosen this corner table far in the back to have some peace but you would have liked to believe that he wouldn’t have minded you joining. After all, he waved to you casually like you were friends when you ran into each other on the corridors earlier that day.

Eventually, you pulled out the chair on the other side of the table and quietly put your study material down. You squinted at the books and printed papers around Taesan recognizing them as advanced Maths exercises on trigonometry. While you were trying to see if it was a sheet you had already done, something else caught your eyes instead. The light reflected on the silver bands around Taesan’s index and ring fingers down to the similar thin, metal bracelet he wore. You had never noticed that he wore accessories but you had never really paid attention to what he was wearing either (except his unmade tie). Or maybe due to the long sleeved uniform you couldn’t even notice it but now that he had his sleeves rolled up and arms outstretched, you couldn’t help but notice how long and elegant fingers he had, unfairly nice for a guy.

Taesan suddenly exhaled sharply which made you act on impulse. You leaned back in your chair and looked down at your randomly opened book just in case he woke up. However, his quiet sleeping noises soon returned to normal, so you deemed it safe to look up. You let out a relieved sigh when you saw his eyes still closed, his eyelashes casting a light shadow over his cheekbones. Dark strands of hair fell softly over his eyes and you weren’t sure what came over you but maybe all those silly romance dramas were right when they thought girls couldn’t stop themselves from brushing a boy’s fringe out of his eyes just once in their life. But just as you reached out, Taesan straightened his back and yawned like a cat, stretching his arms towards the sky. He blinked himself awake slowly but he froze the moment he noticed you right in front of him.

To make the situation less awkward for both of you, you smiled at him as casually as you could (which wasn’t much thanks to your racing heartbeat but still, you tried) and turned to your book, flipping to the correct page you wanted to review. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Taesan fix his clothes and sit up properly before arranging his rumpled papers to continue the Maths exercises. He must have been stuck on a problem though because he kept sighing and going back to the same page in the workbook. After his sixth or so frustrated sound, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“What are you stuck on? Maybe I can help,” you spoke up, closing your own book, so he would see your focus was on him.

“It’s fine,” he dismissed your offer so fast that you could tell he didn’t even think about it. You were sure because that was what you tended to do too: claiming you could handle everything on your own. But still, sometimes wasn’t it nice to receive help? Like how he had helped you with that box?

“Okay, then what about explaining it to me?” You changed your strategy because sometimes even that much could help: offering a listening ear. Maybe he could realize the mistake he was making in the equation while telling you about it.

You didn’t even think about it, you just stood up and walked to Taesan’s side of the table, sitting down next to him, leaning closer to see his scratchy handwriting and the calculations he had been doing. You might have blushed when you realized just how close you were but you refused to show it. You took studying seriously after all. So you looked the boy in the eye with a challenge in yours until he gave in.

Four minutes later he found the trigonometric identity he used incorrectly.

After sharing songs through texts and studying together at the library, the next thing that became a routine for the two of you was visiting the corner convenience store whenever you left the school together. When it first happened, Taesan claimed he needed to buy something too but he was looking around in the snack aisle suspiciously long (you missed your usual bus that day), so the next time you told him that you would catch up to him at the bus stop, he didn’t need to come with you. But more often than not, he went along with you anyways and ended up buying candies or chocolate bars. When you told Taesan about your go-to emotional support banana milk reminding you of your childhood, he told you that he wasn’t really into sweet things, so he bought all these snacks for his younger siblings. One time he bought a pack of four cream milk breads just for the freebie Pokémon toy that came with it because his little sister liked that character. It made you coo internally.

It wasn’t always just the two of you though. One day you were going over the English vocabulary with Jihan from your class in the library when Taesan and Jungwon walked in and took the desk next to you, eventually joining the English quiz. Another time Leehan needed to stay after school too because of his model student representative duties (a photoshoot for the Freshmen Open Day brochures apparently and suddenly you weren’t so sulky that you didn’t get the title) and he decided to tag along when he saw Taesan and you head over to the nearby CU.

“Ah, senior year is really hell. Everyone’s so busy we barely have time to hangout after school anymore,” he justified himself while throwing an arm around Taesan’s shoulder. “Jungwon told me you went to the library to study the other day. Since when do you do that? I thought you said being around so many people is distracting.”

You still heard Leehan’s voice as they disappeared into the snack aisle with the purpose of getting jellies and you walked forward to the refrigerated section, trying not to think too much into it. Maybe senior year changed Taesan’s mind, maybe he found the presence of others motivating now. Or maybe he just wanted to spend more time with you. The thought alone made you shy.

You were on schedule with the interviews and soon only the intro and outro as well as your own parts were missing. You wrote a script for the introduction and ending which Taesan improved with his experience of radio shows at school. You argued about whether your version with the ‘high school memories forever staying with you’ sentiment was too cringy or his ‘it’s only the beginning’ version was too vague but this time there was no harshness in your voice, there were no grudges held, it was only friendly banter as you went back and forth with arguments supporting your own ideas.

Eventually you managed to find a common ground, mentioning both the importance of keeping one’s high school memories as a reminder of their formative years and youth as well as being ready for what was coming. It was not even a question that it would be recorded by Taesan because he really had a nice voice and while you tried to stay professional and pay attention to his pronunciation and the flow of the speech rather than him, you failed miserably. Luckily, Taesan had enough radio experience to know exactly what to do. He introduced the segment with ease and charm, captivating the audience (you, for now) and you had to clear your throat to focus when he finished reading.

“We can start the interview with me,” you said, eager to get on with the tasks before Taesan could call you out on your behavior. He must have known your reason for the sudden change of attitude though because he smiled to himself, quiet but obvious about it, as he held the microphone out for you and hit record.

You knew all the questions by heart but still you waited for the boy to ask before you answered.

“When I was young, I wanted to have my own karaoke room. There was one on the basement floor in the building where I used to live and the owner auntie always gave me homemade honey biscuits. She seemed to be so joyful humming songs happily,” you said at the first question, glancing in Taesan’s direction briefly.

He must have been surprised – you were too –, because it wasn’t the model student-like answer everybody was expecting of you like saying your dream had always been to become a doctor or lawyer. Honestly, you had your own answers prepared and memorized ever since the questions for the student interviews were finalized and approved by your teachers. But looking back at it now, you felt embarrassed because even though it was just an interview, it wasn’t graded or judged, yet you had felt obligated to answer according to what other people would think of you. However, in the recent weeks as you got to know Taesan better, you realized that people would judge others without reason, without knowing them, even you. So you shouldn’t have changed your whole personality just so you would fit into this image they had of you. Even if it was about your parents’ or teachers’ expectation or your classmates calling you the teacher’s pet behind your back. You had been okay with the prejudices since high school was just one step in your foolproof plan to lead a successful life, you had been okay without building deep connections with other students because you had known that you would drift away after graduation anyways but only lately you realized that you could have had fun while also working hard. You could be yourself and let people closer. The world wasn’t going to crumble, it wouldn’t ruin your plans. You could be honest, both with yourself and others, because what was the worst thing that could happen? That they would judge you? They are doing it anyway, so it didn't matter.

“And now? Now I’m applying for business majors. I’ m not sure what exactly I would like to do with my life but I will get there. Who knows, maybe one day I will open a karaoke room, too,” you chuckled even though your ambitions were to build a bigger company, something creative and useful. You still had time to figure out the details.

In the beginning of the term you would have felt vulnerable sharing these about yourself in front of Taesan or the entire school because everybody expected you to know what you want to do with your life but now, it felt okay. You actually felt lighter, relieved. Especially because there was nothing akin to judging in Taesan’s eyes as he smiled at you from the other side of the table.

“Please tell us about your most memorable high school memory,” he recited the last question after you went over all the others.

Previously, you would have said it was being chosen as a class president because it was an honor and a proof of hard work but now, your academic achievements didn’t seem that important. What will you really remember when you will be older and think back on high school?

“Honestly, senior year so far has had some unexpected surprises, it’s hard to choose just one but maybe this one. Now,” you and me, just the two of us in the radio club room, being vulnerable yet not being judged. “I like the person I have been becoming ever since this senior interview project started and I think it's going to be a great memory one day.”

Silence embraced you as you finished talking, a bit nervous but without regrets. Taesan pressed a button and the recording stopped, ready to be saved.

“So karaoke room, huh?” He asked and you kicked his shin under the table for that teasing grin on his face.

“Your turn,” you reminded him as you passed the mic and adjusted the headphones around your ears. By then, over so many interviews you were sure Taesan knew what was coming too but just for the show you asked him about his dream job as a child versus now as well as his higher education plans.

“Becoming a musician was my childhood dream. My entire family loves music, many of us play an instrument, so it felt natural,” Taesan said and even though you didn’t know this, it wasn’t hard to imagine given his love for music and all that knowledge about genres and classics. “After I joined the radio club, I realized that I like it a lot despite the fact that here we don’t usually play music. So it would be cool to be a radio DJ on a music show one day but I’m interested in the technology behind it all, that’s why I will study sound engineering.”

You smiled to yourself because you had already known that latter part and it felt nice knowing you had come so far. After a few more answers, you got to the last question about his most memorable moment and Taesan’s feline eyes turned mischievous.

“Hm, a fierce girl yelling my head off during a live school radio radio–”

“Yah, be serious!” You interrupted him when you realized he was talking about what happened last year but your voice was more amused than scolding.

“I am serious,” Taesan claimed but there was a teasing tilt in his mouth. “It’s pretty memorable.”

“So you’re saying I was the only girl interrupting you during a broadcast? Shocking,” you raised a brow at him, a small part of you feeling triumphant about the fact that in a way you were special even if your first actual meeting didn’t have the best circumstances. Thank god that his microphone wasn’t on when you showed up and straight up started questioning him. “Also, just to clarify I wasn't yelling. I just expressed my bewilderment about why you were playing that audio.”

“That was the only one under your name.”

“What?” You blinked, confused at Taesan’s quick response. He sounded like he meant it but you knew that couldn’t have been true, they got access to your entire recording folder accidentally. So if he didn’t see that, it meant he wasn’t the one checking their emails.

“To make sure things are running smoothly, we always have a script about our broadcasts and all the audio files are organized in linear order in a folder for that day. I just played what was prepared for me,” he explained and gosh, you felt so stupid.

All this time you thought he had been the one who chose the wrong file on purpose maybe to help his friend, maybe to just have a good laugh but it made sense that his juniors were more likely the ones doing such preparatory work.

“But still, you could have stopped it instead of just letting it play,” you muttered, trying to justify your reaction.

“Well, at first I thought it was actually a pretty unique tactic and then…” Taesan scratched his nape and looked away, then shrugged as if he just convinced himself to tell you something that might be embarrassing. “To be honest, I just liked your singing.”

At his words you felt the tip of your ears burn and heat spreading all over your cheeks. You were glad that the lighting in the room hid it well.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You found yourself asking quietly because thinking back you weren’t exactly nice to him.

Taesan gave you a look. Okay, true, you didn’t really give him a chance to explain before antagonizing him. And then it must have been weird to just bring it up.

“Right. Um, sorry,” you mumbled, embarrassed due to your too quick judgment but the boy just shook his head as if he had never been mad at the injustice in the first place. “About your answer though, you have to cut it out.” 

Obviously with 60 people answering 6 questions, not everything would make it into the final cut, it would be more of a montage of answers, a glimpse of the seniors’ lives and you didn’t want to be reminded of that incident in front of the entire school. Not again.

“Nope,” Taesan protested, popping the ‘p’ sound, teasing just to be difficult.

“I’m deleting it,” you warned him but you seriously miscalculated several things: there was no way you could have reached the computer before him and with him standing in front of the monitor and keyboard you didn’t see anything. You tried to get hold of the mouse at the same time as looking over the boy’s shoulder but he made sure that he was always in the way which somehow turned into a one sided (struggle) wrestle match and honestly at that point you weren’t even trying to achieve anything and both of you just laughed at your poor attempts.

“Am I interrupting something?” Spoke up a newcomer you didn’t even notice. Sullyoon, another radio club member from the year, stood by the door visibly surprised to see you or well the current situation you were in: Taesan leaning against the desk in front of the computer and you pretty much plastered over him, trying to reach something behind his back.

“No!” You objected vehemently and took two steps back, stumbling a bit. Taesan reached out to steady you by the forearm and only after he made sure you wouldn’t fall did he turn to the girl from his club.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just forgot my buju here,” Sullyoon got over her surprise too and quickly retrieved the prettily decorated journal from one of the shelves. You watched her go and then buried your face in your hands because of embarrassment.

“Emotional support banana milk?” Taesan prompted after he saved the files and turned the computer off.

You smiled at him and followed him out closely. If you were any better off, you would have teased him about his flushed face but instead you just made him race you to the convenience store, so both of you would have an excuse if anyone asked about your red cheeks.

Now that all interviews were done, only the editing was left from the project and while you could have left it all to Taesan since he did the actual editing, you were there keeping him company all through it. First of all, you listened to all the raw material and decided which answers to include from each interviewee in the final cut and then you could help out when he needed a second opinion on the order or cut parts or whether the transition was smooth or not. When he was deep in the concentration mode, you just did homework or studied for upcoming tests. It took three sessions to finish it (you had to force Taesan to get his ass out of school during the second one because he was determined to finish it which past you would have appreciated but not even this project was worth losing proper meal schedule or sleep over it) and when you listened to the final version you were proud of what you had done, together.

“Should we celebrate?” You suggested once the file was sent to the principal and his secretary. You finished it pretty much on schedule and yet, you weren't as relieved as you thought you would be when you had first started it. But still, it was an achievement and you liked to celebrate small wins like this because if you didn't, who else would?

You meant it as in going out to eat something good. For example, in the tent restaurant two streets down the auntie was selling the best tteokbokki you had ever tried. But Taesan had his own idea.

“What about karaoke?”

“Yah! Stop teasing!” You glared at him but you weren't actually mad, it started to turn into a private joke between the two of you.

“I’m not!” The boy insisted and all it took was his almost pout to convince you.

There were karaoke rooms on pretty much every other street in this neighborhood, so it wasn't hard to find one where you booked a room for an hour and bought snacks and drinks at the counter from the girl who looked like a bored university student.

You usually went to sing with a small group of girls from your class, so it was the first time that it was just you and a boy. And not just any boy but Han Taesan. Somehow it felt more special. Sure, he might have already heard you sing and said that he liked it, but you were shy, so you insisted that he would pick a song first. He chose Dean's 21 and totally nailed it, the karaoke machine's high score proving that you weren't just biased when you told him that. You had already liked his speaking voice but when he sang, oh boy! You could have listened to him for hours.

You went with a girl group song you were confident in and it was fun. Song after song you both hyped each other up and the one hour passed by quickly. A part of you wished you could just pay for one more and sing until your voice became hoarse but the rational part knew that you shouldn't have stayed out too late. You still had homework to do and Taesan needed to memorize those English words for tomorrow's test.

It was the same T side of you that went a bit ahead of you and started thinking about the midterms and then how busy you would get once summer ended and the last term rolled around. It was still months away and yet, you wondered if it took that much for you to drift apart or the end of this interview project would be enough. You were a bit scared to know the answer, just how you were scared to answer Jihan's question the other day when she saw you walk to class together with Taesan. Admitting out loud that you liked him would have made it real and it would have made you vulnerable. You weren't sure you were ready to do that but it was certain that you didn't want to lose him.

“Taesan…” You spoke up quietly, swinging your feet back and forth on the bench in the bus stop after you spent the walk from the karaoke room to the stop in silence, lost in thought. The boy turned his head towards you, his fringe getting into his eyes, messy and beautiful. Your heart ached with the certainty only first love could. “Now that the radio segment is ready, will we go back to how we were?” You asked barely in a whisper as if speaking louder would have had its consequences. That was also why you had to rush to clarify. “Because I don’t want that. I… I would miss you too much.”

You didn’t mean to say it like that and it was a scary thing to admit but it was worth all the extra beats of your heart to see Taesan smile, a shy little thing stretching slowly from one side to another, his eyes sparkling under the moonlight and street lamps’ glow.

“Me too,” he said and you reciprocated his smile. There was a short pause, an inhale of the universe waiting, then Taesan called your name and you looked up immediately.

“Hm?”

He looked you in the eyes with those dark oceans of his. Once you associated them with the cold depth of the sea but since then you realized that you were wrong. You knew only a few people who had warmer souls than this boy.

“You are my most memorable high school memory for a reason,” he whispered like it was a secret and a promise at the same time.

It left you speechless a moment too long and the bubble around you burst when the bus pulled up in front of you with a loud screeching sound. Taesan was quick on his feet but instead of getting on the bus right away, he looked back at you and held a hand out for you. You blamed it on not having time to think about it with the bus driver yelling at you impatiently and took it, following the boy onto the vehicle and to your usual place in the back with a smile on your face and a new rhythm in your heart.

Taesan didn't let go of your hand during the entire ride. As you closed your eyes and listened to the music he put on, you hoped he wouldn’t let go for a long time.

[haikyu-mp4]

October

word count; 726 – f!reader

While it was hard to adjust after summer vacation, Tendo Satori finally found his way to the library after a month or two in school. As usual, he had a coffee in hand and sat at the first free table. Surprisingly, it was unoccupied except for a woman Tendo could not remember seeing before. You looked up when he pulled the chair out, and the two of you smiled at each other before getting to work on different subjects. He would have remembered seeing you before.

This process repeated itself twice a week. Either you or Tendo would get there first, and then the other one would magically follow. You would smile at each other, perhaps a little warmer each time, and sit down to work in silence. Two or three weeks later, Tendo was standing in line at the coffee shop, and his mind went to you with your sweet smile. He wondered what your name was. Without overthinking it, he ordered two coffees instead of his usual and walked to the library.

There you were, beautiful as always with the tall window behind you making for a gorgeous backdrop. When he placed the other coffee before you, curious eyes shone back at him. "That's for me? How much do I owe you?" He held his hand up.

"It's on me. I'm Tendo, by the way." His voice and words sent butterflies flying in your tummy, and you felt like you already knew his name in your heart. "Call me Satori."

"Oh, thank you! I'm y/n." Instead of arguing about the money, you grinned at Tendo and planned how to pay him back the next time you were there. That day the air between you two was just a little sweeter. Now you know each other's names. Occasionally, your feet bumped under the table, and you would chuckle with rosy cheeks.

Two days later, Tendo was disappointed that his favourite table was empty when he arrived with the two coffees. The smile on his face fell, and he pondered where you could be. Oh, well. Maybe I just came first again. It was usually the other way around and he didn't want the coffee to get cold.

The world answered his silent prayers, and you sat down across from him only a minute later. A smile crept back onto Tendo’s face as you tried to catch your breath. What caught his attention was the paper bag in your hand, containing what looked like two chocolate croissants. You traded the snack and coffee with broad smiles before getting to work on your separate subjects.

A note slid across the table when you got to the last page of the chapter you were on. Ignoring the temptation to glance up at the delivery guy, you picked it up and bit your lip lightly in anticipation.

I'm reading a book about anti-gravity. It's impossible to put down! A chuckle built up in your chest, begging to be let out, and you finally looked up to see the comedian laughing silently at his joke. He was also holding his book up in his arms for effect. You squeezed your eyes shut and acted like his joke was so horrible you had to laugh. Tendo’s face was scrunched up in laughter, trying to avoid making too much sound.

You picked up your pen and wrote underneath Tendo’s messy handwriting before returning it to him. What do you call an elephant that doesn't matter? An irrelephant.

Tendo snorted before collecting himself. He was laughing with an open mouth, but no sound came out and watching it made you laugh too. The joke was so funny to him; somehow it just made you even more attractive. What a duo you were about to become.

"Y/n." You jumped at the sudden call of your name and looked up at Tendo with questioning eyes. "Will you go to the stage cafe with me tomorrow?" he proposed confidently, trying his best to hide how nervous he was about your possible rejection. You had exchanged bad jokes for hours, and he desperately wanted to talk to you without whispering.

"Tempting." You squinted at him playfully after collecting yourself from the scare. "What's in it for me?"

"More time with me, of course," he answered, keeping up the confident act.

"Sounds like my lucky day."

The Schoolyear Series ║ masterlist

[dedalvs]

Hey! I'm David Peterson, and a few years ago, I wrote a book called Create Your Own Secret Language. It's a book that introduces middle grade readers to codes, ciphers, and elementary language creation. The age range is like 10-14, but skews a little bit older, as the work gets pretty complicated pretty quick. I think 12-13 is the best age range.

Anyway, I decided to look at the Amazon page for it a bit ago, and it's rated fairly well (4.5 at the moment), but there are some 1 star reviews, and I'm always curious about those. Usually they're way off, or thought the book was going to be something different (e.g. "This book doesn't teach you a thing about computer coding!"), but every so often there's some truth in there. (Oh, one not 1 star but lower rated review said they gave it to their 2nd grader, but they found it too complicated. I appreciate a review like that, because I am not at all surprised—I think it is too complicated for a 2nd grader—and I think a review like that is much more effective than a simple 10+ age range on the book.) The first 1 star rating I came to, though, was this:

Now calling a completely mild description of a teenage girl who has a crush on another girl controversial is something I take exception to, but I don't want to pile on this person. Instead I wanted to share how this section came to be in the book.

The book is essentially divided into four parts. The first three parts deal with different ciphers or codes that become more complicated, while the last part describes elementary language creation. The first three sections are each built around a message that the reader can decode, but with language creation, the possibilities are too numerous and too complicated, so there isn't an example to decode, or anything. It would've been too difficult.

For what the messages to decode are about, though, I could do, potentially, anything, so at first I thought to tie them into a world of anthropomorphic animals (an ongoing series of battles between cats and mice), with messages that are being intercepted and decoded. My editor rejected that. Then I redid it so that each section had an individual story that had to do with some famous work of literature. My editor rejected that as well. He explained that it needed to be something that was relevant to kids of the target age range. I was kind of at a loss, for a bit, but then I thought of a story of kids sending secret messages about their uncle who eats too many onions. I shared that, my editor loved it, and I was like, all right. I can do this.

The tough part for me in coming up with mini-stories to plan these coded messages around was coming up with a reason for them to be secret. That's the whole point of a code/cipher: A message you want to be sure no one else but the intended recipient can read in case the message is intercepted. With the first one, two kids are poking gentle fun at a family member, so they want to be sure no one else can read what they're writing. For the last one, a boy is confessing to a diary, because he feels bad that he allowed his cat to escape, but no one knows he did it (he does find the cat again). For the other, I was trying to think of plausible message-sending scenarios for a preteen/teen, and I thought of how we used to write notes in, honestly, 4th and 5th grade, but I aged it up a bit, and decided to have a story about a girl writing a note to her friend because she has a crush on another girl, and wants her friend's opinion/help.

Here's where the point of sharing this comes in. As I had originally written it, the girl's note to her friend was not just telling her friend about her crush, it was also a coming out note, and she was concerned what her parents would react poorly.

Anyway, I sent that off with the rest of my draft, and I got a bunch of comments back on the whole draft (as expected), but my editor also commented on that story, in particular. Specifically, he noted that not every LGBTQ+ story has to be a coming out story, the part about potential friction between her and her parents because of it was a little heavy for the book, and, in general, not every coming out story has to be traumatic.

That was all he said, but I immediately recognized the, in hindsight, obvious truth of all three points, and I was completely embarrassed. I changed it immediately, so that the story beats are that it's a crush, she's not sure if it'll be reciprocated, and she's also very busy with school and band and feels like this will be adding even more busy-ness to her daily life as a student/teen. Then I apologized for making such a blunder. My editor was very good about it—after all, that's what drafts and editors are for—and that was a relief, but I'm still embarrassed that I didn't think of it first.

But, of course, this is not my lived experience, not being a member of the LGBTQ+ community. This is the very reason why you have sensitivity readers—to provide a vantage point you're blind to. In this case, I was very fortunate to have an editor who was thinking ahead, and I'm very grateful that he was there to catch it. That editor, by the way, is Justin Krasner.

One reason I wanted to share this, though, is that while it always is a bit of a difficult thing to speak up, because there might be a negative reaction, sometimes there is no pushback at all. Indeed, sometimes the one being called out is grateful, because we all have blindspots due to our own lived experiences. You can't live every life. For that reason, your own experience will end up being valuable to someone at some point in time for no other reason than that you lived it and they didn't. And, by the by, this is also true for the present, because the lives we've lived cause us to see what's going on right before our eyes in different lights.

Anyway, this is a story that wouldn't have come out otherwise, so I wanted to be sure to let everyone know that Justin Krasner ensured that my book was a better book. An editor's job is often silent and thankless, so on Thanksgiving, I wanted to say thank you, Justin. <3

[m155y-74]

Tim LaFlour helping you study headcannons

acc dying over exams so wrote this instead of revising to make myself feel better. (sorry if they’re a bit dodgy, my brain is fried)

-silently comes in and out whilst your working to give you a fresh cup of tea

-loves helping you study, lots of long nights on the sofa going through flash cards, celebrates so much whenever you get one right-‘yes perfect, you’re a genius, my girlfriend is a genius’

-will come in and clear away dirty plates and mugs every couple hours

-constantly urges you to take a break if you’re burnt out, he’ll come and steal your laptop to get you to take or break or often will pick you up from your desk and carry you away ‘Timmm i have to work’ - ‘nope you’ve worked all day you gotta give that genius brain a break, give it time to let all the knowledge soak in you know’ - ‘I don’t think that’s how revision works Tim’ - ‘nope it definitely it is’

-he struggles with giving you space whilst your working so is extra clingy when you take a break, if you thought he was big on cuddling before wait until he’s had to spend the whole day with you right next door and he’s not allowed to see you.

-gives you amazing pre exam pep talks - ‘repeat after me, I am an absolute genius, I am smarter than every single person in that exam hall, I’m going to smash this exam, get full marks and then I can go home and see my amazing boyfriend. it’s called positive manifestation babe, not that you need it, you got it’

-he is waiting outside of every single exam for you and talks through the exam with you on your way home ‘I don’t know I just feel like I could’ve done so much better, I’m really upset with myself’ - ‘no babe you can’t think like that, it’s in the past it’s happened, you worked so hard and even if you do badly, which you won’t, it doesn’t matter because you are amazing and you know that, I know that and you can’t base your worth off a number, you gave everything you could and now it’s time to let go and trust yourself eh? put some faith in fate’

-he wants so badly to pamper you, so tried to cook dinner for you, it did not end well

-he will stay up till 3am with you revising, does snack runs for you to the corner shop and will test you on your notes for hours if you need him to.

-your biggest cheerleader, he’s so overexcited when you get your results back, picking you up and spinning you round, sooo many kisses. he will also never stop bringing it up ‘oh by the way i found that book you were looking for’ - ‘well of course you did, straight A student, my girlfriends a genius’

tag list/my fav people ever: @nanaldy @rose-bunny-28 (@alixandra-multifandom-version these are a gift for u cause of your comment on my drafts post lmao)

[justeclipsalover]

OKAY GUYS, THIS IS THE DAY…

I PRESENT TO YOU MY OC!!!!!😭🥳

OMG IM EXCITED SO MUCH

Ookayy, i was working on my OC character for 6 months. I almost wrote her story, an now im making her page in the Magic Spell Book. I made her in formal princess dress aannddd… BUTTERFLY FORMM, im actually excited cuz i think i did very well this time.

Ta-daaa!!! Not gonna lie, i love it:3 I worked so much for this🥹

And now my favorite, Butterfly Form!!!!

EEEEEKKKK<33🥹🥹🥹 I LOVE THIS ONE VERY MUCH!!:3

Let me introduce you to her!!:3

Her name is Twilight Butterfly, she is 13 years old. And here comes the shocking part. She has two mothers! Eclipsa Butterfly and Moon Butterfly. You'll ask how it happened, of course with magic. But this doesn't have a different au, I mean I didn't change svtfoe's story at all, Moon and Eclipsa are still enemies in canon. How was she born? Yes, I thought a lot about how I could write something for this without spoiling the series and finally found a sufficient explanation! One day, Star thought of designing a spell to fix things between her mother and Eclipsa. She designed the spell and while she was doing it, she thought about what it would be like if my mother and Eclipsa had a daughter. Because she thought about this while doing the spell, the spell worked in reverse and instead of fixing things between them, it made the two of them have a baby. When Star did the spell and nothing happened, she gave up and forgot about it. But that baby fell into another dimension. (Also it happened before destroying magic.) I won't tell the rest, because I'm going to write a fanfiction for her. But to tell you briefly, Twilight had a very painful life in the dimension she fell into, she experienced such heavy things that she even came back from death. After spending 13 years in this dimension, twilight somehow comes to Mewni (I won't tell these parts yet, I can't give spoilers.) To be honest, I actually had a lot of problems with the character. I changed her story many times, I changed her name, personality, style many times. But finally, here we are, I found a middle ground for all of them! She is very strong in magic, and an excellent swordsman. smart, a bit weird, rarely serious, loves to have fun, relaxed but can be very nervous sometimes. very kind-hearted, loves to write and sing songs all the time, doesn't get scared of things easily. although she can fight perfectly,she is against war and hates fighting. loves dancing. finally, she can have dangerously powerful magic, but that doesn't mean she can control it, oh dude, we're gonna have a lot of trouble with uncontrolled magic…

She is actually sister of Star, and also Meteora! To be honest i loved her design, this is why i think i did very well.

And a note: The draft and design of the wand is ready but still in the drawing phase.

PLEASE COMMENT IF YOU LIKED, IM VERY HOPEFUL WITH MY FIRST OC!:3

[sturnvdds]

Mcdonalds girl

One day matt sturniolo just wanted to go to McDonalds for his daily fries, but eventually wanted more from that certain McDonalds.

Writers note: I also wrote this one while go but it's one of my favorites. It's also not done yet so this story will be a longer continuous one

!! SHORT CHAPTER !!

Another day at this shitty job. I have to wear tight gray pants and a black collored shirt that is 3 sizes too big. I check the cameras and see a minivan pulling up to the machine. “Hello, welcome to McDonalds. What can I get for you?” I say as the boy in the back rolls his window down. “ Hey, how are you?” he says. I get confused because people don't usually give a shit on how I feel.

They just want to get their food and leave. “ I'm good, how are you?” I said to the boy. “ That's great! I'm pretty good myself.” i giggle a bit “ what would u like?’ I ask through my headset. “Uhm can i get 2 large dr peppers…” I hear whispers and see the boy look to the front of the car. “1 large root beer,” he says. “Sir I'm so sorry but we are currently out of rootbeer. “ WHAT?!” I hear another boy yell from the front. “That's totally ok! I'll just add a pepsi instead.” I hear the other boy sigh and mumble something I can't hear.

“And 3 large fries please. The boy from the window says. “ Is that all for today?” I ask. “Yep! “ he says back.” ok that will be $13.99 at the 1st window!” The van pulls up and I grab their food and walk to the first window. I open the window and see 2 identical boys arguing in the front seat. I open the window and the boy in the driver seat looks at me and his eyes open wide. “Is there something on my face?” i think to myself. I break the silence “ U-uh $13.99 is the price.” i say. The boy beside him elbows the driver's hip. He jolts in pain.

“O-oh ok” he gives me a $20 bill and i give him his change back. “Sorry about the root beer.” I slightly giggle seeing him giggle back as I pass him the food. “Its alright ill just get it next time” i smile and speak before i think. “Are u from around here?” Why the fuck would i say that? The boy doesn't seem uncomfortable from the question though. “ yeah me and my brothers live here.” he leaned back a bit so his brother could wave to me. Then the boy who ordered peaks his head in between the front seats. “Wait, do u go to cashmore highschool?” the driver asks. “Yeah” I said to him. “ ah. Well I'll see you around then” the brunette boy says. Right before they drive away I ask “ wait what's your name?” He stops and looks at me. “Matt, Matt sturniolo” he smiles and drives away. Holy.

I walk into school with my hood up. And my airpods in, i honestly don't care how i look. No one really does here. It's such a small school that everyone knows everyone and just ignores anyone but their group. I grab my books and walk down the hall to my first class. With my head down and eyes watching my feet with every step I take. Shit, i trip over a fucking wrapper and fall into somone landing on top of them. Shit, shit, shit. “ I push myself off of whoever I fell on and look up. It's matt.

He pushes himself up onto his elbows and grabs his books that fell out of his hands. “Omg I'm so sorry” I said to him and I got up and recollected myself. He looks at me and stands up. “You're the mcdonalds girl.” he says to me. That's so embarrassing. “Yeah I am” i say, trying not to make eye contact. I can feel his eyes looking at me trying to see how I feel. I look up and see his brother run up behind him swinging his arm around matt “Hey matty b, whos this?” the boy asks matt. “This is chris. From last night.” Matt says awkwardly standing there. “Oh you're the girl who worked at the drive thru right?” Chris asks me. “Yup the one and only.” i say. Matt slightly giggles at my joke.”its sadie by the way” i say to them as I shake chris’s hand.

“Hey yk what? You should come over to ours after school!” Chris says to me. Shit. I look at my hands and I am picking the dead skin around my nails. I look up to see Matt looking at me. “I- uhm.” “UGHHH” I hear someone groaning down the hall walking towards Chris and matt. “Oh hey!” the boy says to me. I look at Matt and chris. “So im guessing u guys r triplets?” I say as I wave to nick. “Yup! “ the 3rd one says. “That's Nick btw” Matt says to me. Chris looks at me, “So? Do you want to?” I look at them. 3 identical boys just looking at me. With their bright blue eyes. I can feel Matt looking at me tho. Staring almost. “ I mean, I don't really have a way to get there. I don't uhm-” i am questioning if i should say it. “ I don't have my license.” I say and stare at the 3 boys. “Don't worry me and chris dont either” nick says while smiling. They feel so welcoming. “Matt we can pick her up right?” nick says, nudging him. “ yeah ofc, can i have ur number?” I feel my cheeks become red. “So I can get your address and stuff. Of course.” Matt says after. “ Sure, “ I said, smiling. He passes me his phone and i put my number in and send myself a message. I pass him the phone back and see him write something on his phone. “Mcdonalds girl”. Did he seriously put my contact name as that?

“Ill pick you up at 5?” matt asks. “Yeah ok” I said to him. “Ok cya then!” nick says as we walk our separate ways,

@bernardsbendystraws

[plum-petals]

hey rosie! so, this isn't related to your perfect/stunning spyverse fanfiction, but with the AMOUNT of writing you do and how GOOD it is. I'm trying to write my own book, but everytime i have an idea i only write 5-7 chapters before getting another idea and restarting the process. do you have any tips? also for writing in a good way and plotting, since it's your specialty! <3

hello!! omg this is so nice 💕 i don't know if i have very practical advice since the two biggest reasons i have the freedom to write so much is 1. desk job and 2. no children. 😂 but here are such of the actual, more applicable lessons i've learned for not abandoning my 300k+ series half-way through:

fall in love with organization haha i use docs for writing but goodnotes on my ipad for plotting! it's a paid app (that i would have loved in college tbh) but i love having a virtual notebook for stories filled with planning stuff with options for paper type, handwriting > text, etc. different ones for different stories with tons of customization options to make things pretty if that's your speed (making things pretty is 100% my speed)

planning looks different depending on the story! since this one was covering a year, i did a timeline style outline once i took all my planning bullet points and i laid it out chronologically. this helped me realize stuff like "oh i don't have them doing like anything for this month, let me fix that" or "too many things happening in this span of time, can i move something?" and even tone-setting notes that remembering the season and relation to any greater events. it also lets me drop in moments of foreshadowing very deliberately and add in fun parallels and focus on the literary themes on a larger scale because i can see all the smaller pieces at once.

my timeline organization is generally helped by my color coordination. red for "basically a canon event/needs to happen here/no flexibility" + green for "needs to happen/flexibility in either location or details" + yellow for brainworm stuff i'd like to include if it feels right. blue is for additions and annotations. which are sometimes just an arrow to where a plot point actually happens because i move it or me crossing out an idea and replacing it with what actually happens. blue is my favorite color so it makes my edits to the "plan" feel less like mistakes and more like progress. don't beat yourself up for changing your mind! i do it twice a day. it becomes a bit of a beautiful, chaotic mess by the time you hit *checks notes* chapter 56 but it's okay! like dain redemption arcs, progress isn't linear!

once i have a plan, it's easier for me to jump around as i feel inspired! staring a blank doc isn't really my speed. it's almost soul-crushing tbh. so i'll just close it and write something else. maybe a scene down the line i'm pumped for, or just brainstorming dialogue for future scenes. who cares if you have to make changes when you get there or if it has mistakes? at least it's on the page. or even something silly! for main fic, it was usually xaden pov at first and look how that turned out haha spyverse started with only like six scenes i really wanted to write and built from there! writing also doesn't have to be linear because a story is!

when you're stuck stuck, try writing other stuff in your universe instead of moving to another idea! it doesn't have to the main story to build your understanding of character dynamics and how the plot works together. two side-characters discussing what happened for a scene that's having trouble coming out instead of the scene itself. a random background character seeing odd things while going about their day. your mc doing something wildly outside of the plot like idk studying physics. basically write a slice of life anime for your own protags if you need to feel connected to them, even if a lot of it will end up unused. it'll make the plot-heavy stuff feel easier! even for fight scenes and stuff i never wrote before spyverse, i feel like i have a pretty good idea in my brain about how violet would react to any situation because i know her and it makes everything easier haha

read your work out loud if you can! dialogue especially but all of it really. i worked in a writing center for years and most awkward phrasing and typos can be caught just by reading out loud. ambiguous grammar rules are ingrained in us enough that even if we don't recognize it on the page, it still hits our ears wrong. it also helps me flesh stuff out... i'll just be mumbling violet clapbacks to myself until i find the right one!

oh i also re-read my own writing to get back into the swing of things before a long session! either a chapter back in my draft or just one of my favorite chapters in the main fic. i used to hate this because i am harshly self-critical but now i force myself to because if reading my stuff doesn't still make me smile, i'm doing something wrong lol

7 tips for 7 dragons! thanks so much for your sweet words 💕

[styrvexxual]

Han Jisung's Guide to The College Experience (CH. 2)

Pt. 2 to my first ever fic :)

minsung-centric ft. side pairings wooo

7.1k Chapter (14.5k total so far)

This ch. specifically contains alcohol use and mentions of other drugs so be aware!

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61759963/chapters/158494408

link to ch1: https://www.tumblr.com/styrvexxual/771354434446000128/han-jisungs-guide-to-the-college-experience-ch?source=share

Thursday morning finds Jisung regretting every decision he’s ever made that’s led him to this exact moment in time. So basically, it's an average day. His little temper tantrum, as Kim Seungmin would probably refer to it as, has left him with a bit of a migraine and a lot of sleep deprivation. He may only be two weeks into the semester, but he can already feel himself slipping into a certain autopilot mode he fears will be his new normal, which just means going to the bare minimum amount of lectures and taking precise notes with the intent of copy-pasting them into his assignments later. He kind of has this down to a science by now as general education requirements have not been the kindest to him.

Jisung decides, in spite of his below-average physical condition, that going to class could do him some good. He needs something to take his mind off of Minho, and it’s not like he’s held at gunpoint to pay attention to his lectures. Okay, so it’s basically just taking a walk to rot away on his laptop somewhere that isn’t his bedroom, but at least he looks like a model student while doing it. Chan would be so proud of him! He wouldn’t, but what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

Thursday evening, however, is when the consequences of Jisung’s fucked up schedule really start to rear their ugly heads. Having an 8 pm class into an 8 am the next day seriously can’t be healthy. Exhaustion settles deep in his body; and as he escapes the clutches of his late-night lecture, he briefly recalls opening his phone to make a call, but nothing afterward.

Jisung wakes up Friday morning feeling far better than he did the morning after his certified crash-out moment over Minho. He also wakes up in someone else’s house. A quick roll over to his other side and the least graceful fall of his life aid him in identifying his sleeping surface of choice as Changbin’s coffee table.

How in the everloving fuck did he get here?

He must have voiced this thought out loud, seeing as Changbin took it upon himself to respond with a simple, “You tell me, kid. I came back from class last night and you were passed out on my coffee table. Didn’t know if you actually needed something, but you were pretty knocked out so I didn’t want to bother you.”

Changbin then adds, “You do also have a discussion in a half-hour, so if I were you I’d spend a little less time acting confused and a little more time walking to class.”

Jisung once again toys with the idea of giving up on his career and living off of Changbin’s trust fund, but that would require marrying Changbin. He’s already been on Hyunjin’s bad side once, and he doesn’t plan on returning any time soon. Oh well, no time to dwell on that, Jisung has a discussion to get to. Fuck Friday classes.

“I did have to talk to you, by the way. But I allegedly, according to anonymous sources, have a class to attend and will instead be back to bother you in the near future.” Jisung responds, already making his way toward the door.

As he makes his grand escape, Jisung hears a faint voice that sounds suspiciously like his friend. Something about ‘making this short’ and ‘Hyunjin absolutely doesn’t need to get caught up in this’. Jisung realizes Changbin must be on the phone with someone, he sure does work quickly.

Class, as per usual, is wildly uneventful. Two weeks into the semester and Jisung finds he can’t even remember what class of his has a discussion. Look, beating his high score in 2048 is far more important than learning about dead people who wrote books when they weren’t so dead. Or is this discussion for his genetics lecture? No matter, any class that has an 8 am discussion is a class that has no bearing on Jisung.

Upon his return to Changbin’s place, albeit a little later than anticipated, Jisung decides to make both his presence and problems loud and clear. “So basically I just can’t fucking stand my TA,” he announces to the room, seating himself at the dining table.

“And pray tell, how this is my problem?” he hears from the couch. Oh good, Changbin is actually home.

“It’ll be your problem when I murder him in cold blood, and you’re the only person around to carry out the role of an expert witness. I need you around so I have someone to bribe into committing perjury so I can escape jail time.”

“Well, it’s great to hear you’re as dramatic as ever.” Thanks, Changbin. How kind of you. “Also why would I take a bribe from you, I’m not the one that wants to live off their friend’s money?”

“Because you love me, or at least I thought so. Look, that’s really not the point here.”

“Whatever man, just get back to your TA dramafest. I thought I had better things to do than listen to this but I fear I don’t, so today’s your lucky day.”

“Look, I made this friend in my dance class, and I was asking him about the TA. I said a few things about him that he apparently overheard, and he completely blew up at me!”

“How mature Jisung, I’m so proud of you for branching out and meeting people,” Changbin replies, his tone falling flat. If only he had meant what he said.

Jisung hears something akin to giggling and wonders how thin the walls in Changbin’s apartment complex are. His face screws up as the light sound of a slap and frantic shushing follows. Seriously? It’s 3 pm for fucks sake, way too early to be behaving like freaks in Jisung’s humble opinion.

“Could you stop dunking on me for like five seconds? I do actually need help here, my grades are at stake here man.”

“Dude you are in way too deep with this whole thing. It’s just some guy, I really don’t get why you care so much. Usually, when you don’t get along with people it tends to roll off your back,” The implications of Changbin’s inquisitive tone are not something Jisung wants to get into right now, but it definitely pisses him off.

“I care because he’s a massive dick! So what I was whispering about him, all I did was compliment him. If anything, he should be thanking me!”

“Honestly the more you tell me the more I begin to see the other guy’s side of this.”

“At least I’m not a lunatic who thinks my classmates are out to get me despite my inherent ability to get along with every single person on earth. Or someone sensitive enough to believe a person complimenting you behind your back equates to petty gossip.”

Exasperation seeps through Jisung’s bloodstream over having to plead his case to his best friend. Who knew that a vent session, or two at this point, would leave him even more riled up than when he began? Maybe he shouldn’t have made friends with people who actually care about him, he needs more yes men in his life.

“Are you done yet? It’s date night and I’m sick and tired of hearing your thinly veiled pining.” A third voice interjects, and Jisung pales as he sees a mop of hair rise up from behind the couch.

“Suck my dick Hwang. Has he been here the whole time?” Jisung asks, turning to face both Changbin and the consequences of his actions.

Changbin’s conversation over the phone earlier makes a lot more sense now that it’s been contextualized for Jisung. He now also realizes that Changbin was talking to him this morning and feels only slightly remorseful given how much his friend has pissed him off today.

“Yeah? I told you this morning before your class he was coming over later. Do you ever listen to me?” Changbin retorts; and yeah, Jisung did kind of deserve that one. “Look, my frat is throwing tomorrow night. I know you think Greek life is a bunch of bullshit, but I swear I know a guy who can help. He’s on exec and a dance major so he literally knows everyone, I’m sure he can help with your mystery man problem.”

“You clearly already know how I feel about this idea, so why bother asking? Also, if Hyunjin is here, why can’t he just tell me what to do?”

“First of all, you never gave me a name. Second, you told me to suck your dick and I am so grossed out by the thought of the thought of it that I am now withholding my assistance.” He hears Hyunjin pipe up from his new place on the couch where Jisung could actually see him. If only that were the case an hour ago.

“Dude just trust me, I want to help you. It’s just unfortunate that in order for you to be helped, you’ve got to do some networking.” Jisung wants to explain to Changbin that networking is a bullshit word for taking a concoction of substances and yelling at frat guys over mediocre music, but he’s starting to get a little desperate here.

Jisung decides to choose his next words carefully so as to not offend Changbin in the process of cursing his entire frat and their future bloodlines. He then decides that Changbin can go fuck himself, and instead says, “Whatever dude, just don’t let him get too coked out before I can talk to him or whatever it is you guys do at these parties.”

“Hey, I don’t do coke, and he doesn’t do coke, so no problem there.”

“Yeah, and I’m gonna pass all my classes this semester.” Jisung backtracks when he realizes Changbin is, in fact, serious, “I’ll be there, but you better make this worth my time.”

“You can count on me,” Changbin responds; right arm at the ready in a mock salute.

He hears Hyunjin giggle from across the room before adding, “Don’t worry Sungie, I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid!”

Jisung really needs to make new friends.

------------------------------------------------

Jisung spends what could and should have been a beautiful Saturday morning out on the town burning a hole into his phone with his gaze. He also spends his morning realizing how stupid he must look, staring at Felix’s newly saved phone number as if it holds all the secrets of the universe. Well, he knows how to dance and talk to Lee Minho, so Jisung supposes that’s basically the same thing.

“Seriously dude, what’s got you this worked up on a weekend? And please don’t tell me it's Minho, even if it is. I’m not getting involved in whatever that is.” Jisung hears from behind him. Great, he forgot that Seungmin would be here, no classes on a Saturday, and all that. Good to know he did, in fact, look stupid given that it was enough for Seungmin to bring it up.

“I mean, it's technically not about Minho?” Jisung responds, “Just someone whose number I got to help me learn to dance since he flat out refuses to help even if it's his job.”

“Oh? I’m surprised you were able to convince someone to be your friend after what you told me about your little class incident on Wednesday”

“Shut up man, I told you what happened with Minho is a misunderstanding. Look, Changbin told me he’d be able to help with it if I went to a party with him tonight, so it’s all good. But right now, I really do need to learn how to dance.”

“I still fail to see why you’re sitting here sweating over sending a text. I doubt you want to impress him that badly or anything.” Seungmin gives Jisung approximately half a second to try and come up with a response before saying, “Holy shit! You totally have a crush on him. And here I was thinking you had the hots for my childhood best friend.”

“Nobody has a crush on anybody! I just don’t seem to have the best track record with dance majors, and he’s the only one I’ve ever willingly tried to befriend.”

Seungmin doesn’t quite seem to buy it, but it’s enough to get him to drop the topic, instead saying, “I didn’t realize that many dance majors were stuck with the likes of you in some beginners class. What’s his name? I told you I know a few dance majors.”

“Felix? He’s in our year so I wouldn’t put it past you to somehow know him too.”

Seungmin seems to think for a second before responding, “Of course I know him, he’s like Minho’s adopted child. I don’t think I’ve seen one of them without the other since Felix started here. Kinda like how Chan and Changbin are with you honestly.”

“Seriously? Guess that explains why Minho wasn’t upset with him after Wednesday. Anyways, he promised he’d help me out with the class but I just don’t know what to say.”

“Wow, I’m actually starting to feel a little bad about this. Give me a minute and I’ll help you, but I don’t think you need it, Lixie’s completely harmless.”

Jisung only finds it in him to try and respond to that after Seungmin already turned away from him, typing something on his phone and setting it down next to him on his desk. As he gets back to whatever essay he had been working on, Jisung sees his own phone light up with a text from Felix, asking if he had time for a quick phone call.

He clicks the call button on the top of the screen, and it takes Felix exactly two rings to pick up the phone, answering with a, “Hi Jisung! Seungminnie told me you were bad at texting, so I figured you’d prefer a phone call,”

“Well I wouldn’t go that far,” Jisung responds with a frown, “I just really need help with dance and I didn’t know how to ask for it.”

“You’re so silly Jisung, of course I’ll help you, I’d never go back on a promise like that. Do you have time today? I don’t want to pressure you; but if you want, I could meet you in the dance building in like an hour.”

“Yeah, that works. Want me to bring you anything? I feel bad making you do this kind of work for free.”

“Just yourself is all! Plus, I’m taking a course for my major that teaches us how to teach dance, so really you’re just helping me finish my homework.”

“You sure? I mean it is the weekend, you could be having fun but instead, you’re being forced to teach some stranger how to dance for a class you aren’t even technically in.”

“Trust me, if I didn’t want to I wouldn’t have offered. I’ll see you in an hour Jisung,” Felix says, a smile evident in his voice. After quick goodbyes and a completely unwanted interruption from Kim Seungmin, Jisung hangs up the phone and makes his way over to his wardrobe to get ready for his dance lesson.

The dance building isn’t somewhere Jisung enjoys making the journey to on a normal day, but having to make the trek across campus on a Saturday before lunch is even worse. He suddenly feels bad for forcing Felix to make his way over here as well, no matter how much the other insists he doesn’t mind. As he walks in, he hears the distinct noise of classical music playing through the speakers of one of the rooms. There aren’t any classes on weekends, so Jisung is left wondering who could possibly be spending their morning in the most secluded part of campus. With the ambiance created by the mystery student, Jisung has to admit the dance building is actually quite gorgeous. Surrounded by trees with most of the walls being massive windows, it’s definitely one of the more relaxing places on campus. Before he can fall too deep into thought, he’s interrupted by Felix coming up behind him to greet him.

“How long have you been here?” Jisung asks, noticing Felix is already dressed and slightly exerted.

“I got here right when you called. Minho needed help with some choreography so I came in to walk through it with him. Told you it wasn’t an inconvenience for me to come out here,” Felix responds with a grin. How he can be friends with the likes of Minho and Seungmin, Jisung doesn’t understand.

“Minho’s the only other one here? I hope I didn’t make my presence too known coming in. I can truly never be too careful around him.”

“Don’t worry, I only even came out here cause you never texted me. I didn’t even tell him you’d be here, so it’s not like you’ll have to talk to him.”

“It’s not really the talking part I’m worried about, I already really fucked that part up. I’d rather he never actually watch me dance if he doesn’t have to, can’t give him another reason to hate me.” Jisung says with a sad smile, following Felix down the hall into the studio they booked for the next two hours.

As Felix sets up his phone with the speakers, Jisung sets his stuff down and tries to run through some of the stretches they typically do in class. He finds that it’s a lot easier to settle into some of the positions without a teacher and thirty other students breathing down your neck all the time. As he falls into the rhythm of the yoga-like warmup, he realizes why people like Minho love dance so much. For all of that pent-up anger and hatred inside of him, dance must be pretty cathartic. It’s like when Jisung goes to the gym to let his stress from classes out except a little more graceful but just as sweaty. As Jisung finishes his stretches, Felix turns to him to announce that he’ll be going over what they do in classes so as to not confuse Jisung too much by bringing new moves into the mix.

Felix leads both of them through the warm-up exercises they did last class since Jisung was made aware that he’ll have to memorize them for his midterm. They make it to the flat-back sequence when Jisung asks if they can pause for a second.

“Are you okay?” he hears Felix ask, “If I’m going too fast you can tell me, I promise I don’t want to overwork you.”

“Nah not at all dude. It’s just, I don’t get it. This is supposed to be a beginner's class but this really doesn’t feel easy. How the fuck do people like you and Minho do this, or anything harder for that matter, with such ease?”

“Don’t worry about all that. I’ve been watching you and you’re doing everything correctly on a basic level, the flexibility and form take time, just let your body get used to it,” Felix states, before adding, “You know, Minho would be happy to hear you say that one day. It would mean a lot to him to know you’ve inadvertently gained respect for him through dance.”

“I’m sure it would,” Jisung responds, sarcasm evident in his voice, “Just like I’m sure it brings him great joy to see me struggle so badly while refusing help.”

“It really would, Jisung,” Felix interrupts, “Now back to work, we don’t have all day in here and I will make you a real dancer by the end of this semester even if it’s the last thing I do!”

Dancers really do take their work seriously, Jisung thinks. He lets himself be led through a few more center exercises, smiling when Felix praises him for a job well done and frowning as he tries to replicate Felix’s verbal critiques or demonstrations in his own body. How dancers can bend their bodies at will to recreate the various phrases and ideas a teacher throws out Jisung will never understand. But then again, it’s not like Felix will ever understand how to layer vocals and sounds into something beautiful, so he supposes everyone just has their own niche when it comes to art.

Felix proceeds to lead Jisung through the exercises across the floor that they learning on Wednesday, and he wonders if it’s possible to get PTSD from doing a dance move. Not necessarily because of the exercise itself, or maybe that too, but mostly just because all it reminds him of is his horrible first interaction with Minho. Jisung still doesn’t understand that stupid not-quite-walking exercise, and remembers how upset he was by the practiced ease with which Minho demonstrated. He tries not to let his frustrations show too much on his face. Felix is practically a stranger still, and Jisung really doesn’t want to scare him off by crashing out over the simplest possible combination of the day.

They get through a few more exercises before Jisung’s exhaustion gets the better of him, and he can barely stand up without the help of the ballet barres at the back of the room. Who knew dance was such a killer cardio workout? Not Jisung, that’s for sure. Felix seems to take note of this, turning the music down and making his way over to Jisung, who has stationed himself in the back left corner of the room.

“I think we might be done for the day, right?” he asks with a laugh.

“No shit Sherlock,” Jisung replies, keeping his tone light.

“Did you at least have fun?”

“You could say that. It’s a lot less stressful without a teacher and her nightmare T.A. breathing down your back.”

“I'm glad to hear it. Now get up, we still have to do a cooldown, or your muscles will all tense up.”

Felix ends their session by leading Jisung through a set of stretches similar to the ones he did on his own at the beginning of their lesson. Unfortunately, he comes to the realization that Felix is right, and he should really do this more often, especially after his normal workouts. It isn’t until Jisung starts packing up his stuff while Felix messes with the sound system that he speaks again.

“I feel bad for making you do this for me, I mean we barely even know each other. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”

“Seriously Jisungie, you’re too kind. Don’t sweat it, I had fun.”

“I’m going out tonight with some of my friends, you want to come with? Seungmin will be there, so it’s not like you won’t know anyone.” Jisung offers. Seriously, this kid is just too kind, and he feels like he’s taking advantage of it by not bringing anything to the table in return.

“As long as you’re all okay with it, I’d love to! Just let me text Minho real quick, he mentioned taking me out to a party tonight but I think he also said he might be too busy for that.”

Jisung gives Felix some time and space to figure out his plans, turning around and packing up his stuff in the hopes that he’ll get the chance to shower before they have to start pregaming. They definitely went a bit over their allotted time, and Jisung has some homework to catch up on.

He finds Felix once again as they both make their respective ways out of the dance studio. Jisung doesn’t fail to notice that Felix absolutely did not come from the same direction that he did, and wonders if he went to talk to Minho in person about his plans for tonight. He decides to keep this thought to himself, and leaves Felix with the address of his dorm and a promise to buzz him in that evening.

------------------------------------------------

Jisung reunites with Felix a few hours later, letting him and the bottle of vodka he brought with him into his dorm room. Pregaming with Jisung’s friends is fun until it absolutely isn’t as they all try to consume as much alcohol as possible before having to walk over to the actual party. However, Jisung realizes tonight is definitely going to be a lot more fun than normal when he sees the face Chan makes after Felix enters the dorm room. If only he had his phone on him, that would have made the perfect photo for an ugly birthday Instagram story.

“Seungminnie!” Felix shouts, snapping Jisung out of his thoughts, “Why didn’t you introduce me to Jisung earlier, that’s literally twin bro.”

“Well, ideally the two of you would never meet, making my life infinitely easier and quieter. How the fuck was I supposed to know that Jisung over here was going to take a dance class.” Seungmin responds with a hint of a smile in his voice that Jisung didn’t even think could be possible.

“‘I for one, am incredibly happy this happened. I’m Chan, I’ve heard a lot about you from my friends, though I don’t think we’ve had the opportunity to acquaint ourselves quite yet.” Chan says, extending a hand out to Felix with a blinding grin on his face.

Felix matches the handshake and smile, and Jisung immediately begins planning their wedding in his head. From what he can tell of the two, they definitely both love the sun, seeing as they're the humanized form of it. A summer wedding really would suit them, or maybe a winter wedding to contrast the warmth they give off. They’d also both look amazing in white, so a winter wedding it is. Jisung is promptly reminded that the rest of the group isn’t privy to the imaginary reception occurring in his head when he catches Felix looking at him expectantly. “Sorry, could you repeat that? I’m a little tired after our training session from earlier,” he says, hoping the group takes pity on him.

“Oh! Sorry Sungie, I was just asking how you and Chan met since you’re a few years apart and all that.”

Jisung knows exactly why Felix is asking this question, yet he holds his tongue with a reminder to have a more private conversation with the boy later about just what to do with the elder. He instead says, “We met in a music class last year. He took pity on my poor little malnourished first-year self, and he’s been my surrogate father ever since!”

Felix looks to Chan next, prompting a response out of him. “I mean yeah, that’s pretty much how it went, except the father part. I’m not that old Jisung.”

This statement elicits a giggle out of Felix, although it’s really not that funny. Seungmin seems to have picked up on it as well, albeit he isn’t as happy about it as Jisung is, interrupting with a, “Can we start drinking now? I know it’s common courtesy to be fashionably late to these things, but we’ll miss the whole thing at this rate.”

As they break into their drinks, shots for everyone with the exception of Jisung, who’s been nursing the same white claw for the past few minutes, they ask each other a few random questions to pass the time and break the ice with the newest member to their little group. Unfortunately for Jisung, it’s not long before Chan decides to ask something relevant, saying, “A little birdy told me you’re only going tonight so you can gather intel on a certain TA. And by little birdy, I mean a big buff birdy. It was Changbin. But is he seriously telling the truth?”

Jisung chooses to ignore Chan’s strange phrasing, chalking it up to being his first time drinking in a while, “Yep! I’m sick and tired of him hating me when all everyone else does is sing his praises. I need to know how to get on his good side.”

“I’m sure that’s exactly what you’ll be able to do tonight Sungie! Go get ‘em.” Felix exclaims, bursting into laughter alongside Seungmin while Chan gives the three of them a concerned look. Jisung gives a slight frown to this, not having signed up to take care of his clearly already inebriated friends.

Surely that’s why they’re laughing, right? Jisung doesn’t think he’s ever seen Seungmin laugh before tonight, and he’s also almost never seen him drunk, with the sole exception of one night in their first year he’s been sworn to secrecy over. “I bet by the end of tonight, I’ll know how to have Minho wrapped around all ten of my fingers!” Jisung exclaims, suddenly a lot more excited about otherwise mundane social endeavors.

Jisung needs to learn to stop making bets with himself he can’t win before he does something drastic.

When they finally find themselves outside of the frat house, Jisung wishes he wasn’t so much of a lightweight and was able to take a few shots of whatever Felix brought with him to pregame. Making his way into the house and past the obnoxious ‘bouncer’ who demanded to see their invites at least three times each while letting every girl who walked by in, he beelines to the kitchen, immediately sniffing out the free alcohol. Chan, being the ever-present voice of reason that he is, is understandably worried when Jisung approaches the poor frat guy stuck on drink duty and demands two shots of their strongest liquor for him and his friends. What fatherhood, and whatever he is to Felix after tonight, does to a man.

After a few more shots with Felix and Seungmin, Jisung grabs his designated vodka redbull he’ll carry around for the rest of the night to pretend he’s still drinking, and deems himself ready to brave the storm that is frat men and their horrific attempts at conversation. Speaking of, Jisung spots Changbin waving out of the corner of his eye as he slowly dislodges himself from his spot against Hyunjin on the couch. Jisung takes one more shot for good measure as Changbin walks over, not quite ready to follow up on their deal.

“Jisung!” he hears from across the room, “Thank god you’re finally here. I’ve got someone I want you to meet. He’s been pretty busy, but he agreed to take some time to talk to you.” Changbin says before stage-whispering, “Between you and me, I think he's just looking for something to distract him from his own petty drama.”

He watches Changbin wave somebody over from behind him, but as the figure makes its way over, Jisung’s heart quite literally drops out of his ass, “Minho! So good to see you bro, this is my friend Jisung I was telling you about. He needs a little help and I promised him I would–”

“Don’t worry Binnie, I can assure you we’ve already been acquainted,” Minho interjects, already spinning on his heel to make his way to the dance floor.

So much for helping.

It’s only then that Changbin seems to be able to put two and two together and finally realize what’s going on. “No way your bitchy dance TA is Minho dude! I’ve never seen the guy that pissed in his life.”

“That seems to be common with the people who know him. Meanwhile, I’ve never seen him that civilized, especially around me.”

“I don’t know what you did to hurt him so bad, but I really have never seen him like that before. I really would recommend apologizing. If not for him, then for the rest of us, you know all of those mutual friends you guys seem to have.”

“I’ll try my best, but you saw how he was earlier. I’ll be lucky to even be in his line of sight without him walking away in disgust,” Jisung finishes with, already walking away.

In an effort to escape Changbin’s pestering, Jisung proceeds to his designated spot against the wall across from the dance floor, letting his friend get lost in the crowd until he finds someone else to talk to. From this spot, he can see the entire room, and it really puts into perspective just how many people a frat can fit into a dingy house. Jisung scans the crowd, looking for someone to let pull him into the sea of students for a dance until he forgets about why he even came here in the first place. Unluckily for him, the only person he’s able to find is the one person he’s actively avoiding.

He spots Minho deep in the crowd of flailing college students, pressed up against who he can assume to be a friend given how close they are. Jisung feels the blood drain from his body as he’s forced to watch Minho’s little friend get even closer to ask him something, pressing a sloppy kiss to the side of his neck on the way. He swears he hears a faint whisper of a song in the background over the ringing in his ears, something about smoke and jealousy to an upbeat tune. Total godawful white frat boy music if you ask Jisung; and no he’s not saying that because the lyrics are hitting just a bit too close to home right now, why would you say that?

He just hates that everyone clearly got some handbook thrown into their laps on how to get along with Lee Minho. With how popular he is, Jisung wouldn’t be surprised to find a university course on the topic, something stupid like LMH101. Maybe that’s the course he should’ve randomly signed up for last spring instead of his clusterfuck of a dance class.

Felix takes this opportunity to slide behind him, whispering, “You good bro?” and waving his hand in front of Jisung’s face in the hopes that it snaps him out of whatever Minho-induced trance he’s sucked into.

Maybe Minho’s just a vampire with weird mind-control powers. Jisung’s slightly less than sober mind decides this is a totally more legitimate and plausible thought than the idea that Minho might just be a good person who makes friends easily. Jisung then realizes it’s been a while since Felix tried to get his attention, and throws out a quick, “All good bro,” in his general direction.

“You sure, you’ve kinda just been staring out at the dance floor for a while,” Felix replies, taking a second to find exactly what Jisung is looking at with such intent and disdain, before adding, “Don’t worry about him, he’s being an absolute dick tonight. If you want to talk to him that bad though, I can go grab him for you.”

Jisung gives some thought to Felix’s offer before replying, “Thanks Lix, but I really don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ll just look like a pussy if I can’t even start a conversation with him on my own.”

“If you say so Sungie, I’m just worried about you two. You guys are such nice people on your own, and you basically share a friend group, so I really just don’t get why you don’t get along.”

“Don’t let yourself fret about it too much Lix, but have fun while you’re here. If you do want something to worry about, I would worry about the way Chan’s been looking at you like he wants to eat you since he saw you at my dorm.” Felix’s eyes sparkle at that, a smile growing on his face, and it makes Jisung proud. Even if he just met Felix this week, he would absolutely without question kill someone to keep that smile on his face.

Felix bids him goodbye and goodnight, assuming the best, and stalks off presumably to wherever Chan went off to when they all got here. Jisung takes a look back at the dance floor, noticing a distinct lack of Minho, and realizes this is his optimal chance to strike.

He looks for Seungmin, his ever-present voice of reason, for a shred of advice on how to get in a real conversation with Minho before the night ends. Unfortunately for him, he finds his roommate pressed against the wall by a boy he now recalls as the person who was standing next to Minho when Changbin tried to ‘introduce’ him to Jisung. Good for him, Jisung thinks. At least one of them is having fun tonight. He spots a figure out of the corner of his eye, throwing an exasperated look toward the pair, which Jisung could totally get behind. He’s glad his roommate is having fun, but they definitely should have taken this to a bedroom by now. As the figure rips the pair apart to do what Jisung can only assume is chastise them, send them home, or both, he realizes the figure is actually Minho, and his body reacts before his brain can catch up.

Jisung grabs Minho and drags him out the patio door into the empty backyard, save for a few loitering stoners, and promptly curses his tipsy brain for the lack of common sense. Despite everything, he’s never found himself alone with Minho and doesn’t quite know how to start the conversation. Minho stares at him for a few seconds in shock before trying to flee, and Jisung realizes he desperately needs to say something. He figures he can’t humiliate himself any further, and settles on a, “I didn’t know you knew my friends.”

“Wouldn’t have begged for their help so much then I assume? Wouldn’t have even become friends with them in the first place if you knew they associated themselves with someone arrogant and overreactive?” Minho has clearly had a lot more to drink than Jisung, speaking at a volume high enough for Jisung to flinch. “I sure hope you don't forget I heard you with Felix. I can’t help but feel relieved I missed part of it. Who knows what you said about me.”

“That’s not what I’m saying! If you would just listen to me instead of running away you’d know I didn’t even say that in the first place.” Jisung sighs before adding, “If you didn’t hear the full conversation, you have no right to be upset with me.”

“Why the fuck would I want to hear the full conversation? You were being an asshole about me being in a dance class, your dance class to be specific, and I don’t take kindly to people disrespecting my work.”

“See, this is why you should have been there! If you even bothered to ask Felix afterwards he would have told you it has nothing to do with dance. If anything, I’m grateful to have someone in there who actually knows what they’re doing.”

“I see,” Minho responds, letting up a bit, and Jisung thinks this might be enough to placate him, chalking this argument up to a bruised ego, but realizes he thought wrong when Minho decides to add, “I know, it’s about the girls, isn’t it? Honestly, I should have realized it from the beginning. The only reason guys enroll in dance classes to begin with is to pick up girls, and you’re mad I’m all they can focus on.”

Jisung doesn’t quite remember when or how the distance between them closed, Minho’s mocking smirk suddenly far too close for comfort. He can’t focus like this, with Minho looking like he wants to pick him apart bone by bone and put him back together again just for fun. He watches Minho’s face fall the slightest bit, only noticeable due to their proximity, presumably confused as to why he’s gone silent all of a sudden. Jisung steps back, finally able to breathe and slightly dizzy from what he hopes is the alcohol, before continuing the conversation.

“I don’t even like girls, are you fucking crazy?” he shouts in response, ignoring the eyes that found their way to the two after that comment, “I signed up for the class on accident for fucks sake.”

He watches Minho as his eyes flash with something indescribable just for a second before he's able to school his expression back into something a little more pleasant, saying, “Then why do you care what I think of you? Any normal person would turn around with their tail between their legs and run back to people that actually give a shit about them.”

“I want to know why you’re so against the idea of making amends. We have all the same friends anyways, it’s not like we’ll never see each other again.”

“Embarrassing yourself in front of me, and not to mention the entire rest of the class, should have been enough of a clue that it wouldn’t work. I’m truly not the one in the wrong here, and making amends only works when both parties want it”

“I just wanted to hear from you what pissed you off so bad. Maybe even an apology for jumping to conclusions, but I’m not even asking for that much anymore.”

“I still don’t think I’m the one who should be apologizing here. You talked about me behind my back, quite horribly mind you, and wonder why I won’t talk to you.”

“Fine, if an apology is what it takes to get an answer out of you, I’ll give you one. I still don’t know what I did to make you so upset, but at least I’m trying here. You were right, I shouldn’t have gone behind your back, it made me look like an absolute dick and it made you upset. I really am sorry.”

“Look I’m happy to hear that from you, but I have things to do. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find Changbin and let him know I’m leaving for tonight.”

Jisung stops him before he gets the chance to slip away again, “You know, most people apologize when they’ve done something wrong, right? Relationships are a two-way street and we’ll never get anywhere if I’m apologizing on both of our behalf.”

The look Jisung gives after would have caused any lesser man to crumble. He knows how to use his features to get what he wants, round eyes shining with the illusion of unshed tears paired with a soft pout. The true epitome of pity. Unfortunately for him, it feels like this has the exact opposite effect on Minho, up until the moment he finally breaks.

“I guess, ugh, I guess I could have responded better.” Minho relents, clearly not used to being the one in the wrong, “It wasn’t right of me to treat you like that, especially in a class setting. I’ll be better about it, promise.”

Jisung beams, and hopes that the faint smile that’s made its way onto Minho's face isn’t just him seeing things as a result of a secondhand high he’s gotten from being out here for so long.

“I’m glad to hear it. Truce?”

“Truce.”

Unfortunately for Jisung, this will be the last thing he remembers of that night.

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

I'm not opposed to hear your rambling of DP in dungeon meshi

Ayyy someone asked! 

Oh, you’ve activated my trap card.

So, naturally, I cannot find the post because Tumblr ate it off my blog, BUT what they’re referring to is a post about how the Fenton parents could have TOTALLY ended up overshooting when trying to get to the Ghost Zone and ended up in different worlds instead… and thus decided ‘hey free children!’ And surprise adopted (read: kidnapped) both Jazz and Danny from two different realms. 

I actually had a LOT of ideas on how you could do this. But, I ultimately decided that a post-canon approach was best for this little exercise. Not that you COULDN’T add Jazz and Danny, I suppose, but the timeline and the character movements are, for lack of better terms of it, EXTREMELY tight. You can wiggle an OC in there, sure, but for a fully developed character from ANOTHER media, especially one as OP as Danny, it’s far more difficult. 

That’s my way of saying, this absolutely has Dungeon Meshi spoilers if you’ve never read the manga and don’t know how it ends. That’s my only warning. 

So here’s the ideas and eventual story (there’s elements that are general and some that are specific to whatever storyline I ended up with) that I have doubts I will ever write but someone might as well enjoy them. I technically wrote a few scenes in my notes app, but these aren’t those, this is—kind of the whole roadmap? It’s a little funky still though, haha. 

Here goes!

As with the post, Jazz is Barbara Gordon’s twin, and Danny was actually a half foot. And now he’s a halfa halffoot. Lmao. Lol even. 

Before I chose to do a post-canon approach, I considered having the Fentons as a party. Jazz and Danny are basically playing babysitter to their FAR too enthusiastic parents who keep almost or actually dying because they’re exploring the whole immortal dungeon thing. While that is scrapped, some of the ideas I did have came from this, er, phase of development? So I felt it was worth a shoutout. 

Marcille describes magic (well, mana) as coming from ‘The Infinite’, which is also where demons come from. And these demons can do things like grant wishes, ‘feed’ off of emotion, and change people. They also, once sealed into dungeons, do various things inside these dungeons, including making animals that cannot exist without magic for very long but also seem to still require a sort of internal logic. This sounds a LOT like how ghosts work in Danny Phantom, if you take maybe a hint of liberty and a dose of speculation about how lairs likely work. 

Basically, The Infinite = the Ghost Zone, also known as the Infinite Realms. Demons = Ghosts. Dungeons = Lairs. And, most importantly… Ectoplasm = Magic. 

For my own sanity and also for a successful meshing of these two very different universes, I’ve decided to go with the semi-fanon idea that the influences of the people in the living world can create things in the Infinite Realms. Belief creates reality, basically. For example, perhaps Pandora was never alive in the first place, but because people heard and believed her story so much, she became a ghost (realms being, demon, what have you). So, while those in Amity Park might not have initially believed much in ghosts, they saw them, and because people saw Phantom as powerful and either villain or hero-like, Danny and the rest of the ghosts became more like comic book characters than spooky ghosts (somewhat explains how things are still a LITTLE spooky, but seem a bit more heavy on the probably dead people thing at the beginning of the series). 

Similarly, demons became what they are over time as the people of the world influenced them. You could call what demons started as, as ‘proto ghosts’, and that every world that HAS ghosts has them, and the beliefs change them into whatever form and binds them to whatever rules the dimension now holds. 

There should still be some universal ‘laws’, though. For example, ghosts exist in both stories, and so do magic, as do spaces that operate at least SLIGHTLY outside the usual laws that govern the area outside of it (again, lairs and the Ghost Zone, dungeons in general). 

All this to say—when Danny ends up in the Dungeon Meshi world, he ends up being a very unorthodox and extremely powerful mage, but might lose a good percentage of his usual ghost powers. He is not salty about this, no, really, ITS FINE JAZZ.  

This would be less of a problem if there wasn’t a SLIGHT issue about halffoots being known as not being magically inclined… and those that might have had an interest in the past sorta-kinda got taken by the elves. 

Another note is that this isn’t going to be a particularly Fenton parents friendly sort of story, because the whole thing STARTS with them KIDNAPPING CHILDREN and passing them off as their own. I’m sure there are ways to spin it as a happy tale, but uhhhhhhhhhhh. I’m not. 

An additional point that you do NOT have to take from this if you make your own story is, if you’re a big fan of halffoots having tails (which, to fit with the humans-all-have-the-same-bones thing, are made of cartilage), you can have Danny have been docked as a baby by the Fentons. Adjust angst regarding that to your own tastes, but I imagine its probably something that HAD been done in the past for not-great-reasons, and so the social stigma for the parents doing that to their child is messed up—but due to the dangers of dungeoneering, some halffoots may have lost their tails in accidents or just because they were THAT serious. Point is, it’s at minimum a gossip point. 

Anyways, as halffoots are very short, and Danny is one, by age fourteen his teachers are probably going to go ‘uuuuhhhh, I think there’s a problem here?’ But the Fenton parents are oddly reluctant to arrange a doctor’s visit to check for various possible causes of potential dwarfism. Like, they’re already dodgy about doctor visits, but this seems particularly avoidant. 

Both Jazz and Danny might know that they’re adopted, but even if they don’t, they know where all their papers are. So they snoop through them to see if there’s any leads or anything. 

There’s various ways to for them to figure it out—realizing there’s no paper trail about their adoptions or about how delayed the at-home-birth paperwork was—but one that I did contemplate was that the Fentons KEPT the tail they cut off Danny as a baby, claiming it was a ‘lower spine surgery and don’t worry about it champ!’. 

As you might imagine, he’s worried about it. But also, you can nix that plot point if you’re not a fan. (Well, I mean it technically my own story developing here, but—part of this exercise is to see what other people would take away from what I’ve got too.)

More searching through papers and likely a conversation if not confrontation with the parents later, Jazz and Danny learn about the different realms and such. 

Jazz is still worried about Danny’s health. They SEEMED human, but what if they weren’t and they were just lucky to not have gotten super sick? Or what if they’ll live thousands of years or something?? 

Danny is, understandably, a little upset about everything too. So they both pack what they might need, basing their travel kits on what notes they DID have about the world they were heading to (minimal technology, so laptops were a bad idea, but Jazz did pack a bunch of instructional books on How To Make Things), and got the dimensional coordinates to where they needed to go. Or, if you don’t wanna explain HOW those dimensional coordinates are still accurate or how that system might work now that the Ghost Zone was there, because who knew how to navigate that place on a GOOD day, Danny could just ask Frostbite or Clockwork for a quick favor. On that note, Danny should probably have a way home—personally, I gave him the starting ability to make portals, although they’re not YET powerful to get through, which is why he’s concerned that he might actually be unwell on his human side. 

POINT IS. Jazz and Danny arrive, taking the name Nightingale just in case their parents went around calling themselves as Fenton and pissing people off by, oh say, kidnapping their child. 

A quick survey around tells them a bit about the world, with Danny probably very used to being very adaptable on the fly. And also we’ll let him keep invisibility. As a treat. Though it may now be a bit more difficult to do. Jazz is tasked to either help Danny to let him hide behind her presence when needing to actually be invisible, read through the travel journal from the Fentons to find clues to Danny’s birth family, and her own self imposed mission to reinvent running water and water filtration systems. She is not about this no-indoor-plumbing life. 

As it so happens, with the Golden Kingdom beginning to pop up, there’s plenty of spaces and houses in various states of repair that they’re currently REALLY trying to fill up. Jazz files some paperwork about being refugees, and they take a house that’s pretty far into the woods for most of the people looking for a place. The two need the space, as they are keeping literal dimensional secrets. Other than the lengthy walk to town, it’s fine. Plus, it lets Jazz do her plumbing project. 

Once they both have a pretty good grasp on things, Danny C-student Nightingale realizes OH. WHAT IF I’M A HALFFOOT— wait no I’m not going by that. Call me a hobbit instead. In Jazz’s defense, she spent most of her time grasping everything else about the world, or otherwise spent most of her time they spent either camping in the woods or making their new house LIVEABLE that the whole ‘different races’ thing completely sped by her. Plus, where they live might be more Tallman heavy. 

Good to know he’s healthy though! But they’re already here, and they do actually want to find Danny’s family, and… it’s just… been very nice and not stressful. The ghosts hadn’t been bothering Danny nearly as much back home, to the point where he felt pretty comfortable leaving it in Valerie’s capable hands, but this is the most relaxed he’s been in a while. It’s amazing what not living with people who would skin you semi-alive will do for mental health. 

They also realize they maybe need to like… make money. 

Good news is, when they switched dimensions, they automatically became able to speak Common. And, as a compensation for losing some of his other abilities, Danny can have omnilingualism. He also keeps his ice powers, mostly, and he’s pretty sure he kept his Ghostly Wail. 

There ARE reasons why he keeps the powers he does. In short, he’s still part ghost (or, part demon here, but words are just words and in this case, both just mean ‘realms being’), so turning invisible is fine. So is making things cold—and, as he’s also human and able to use magic, he can create ice like other mages do. He also has limited intangibility, but for reasons involving ‘I don’t recall any mages doing it’, he has more trouble with it than usual. As for the Ghostly Wail, its similar to the mandrake cry, and thus something that likely involves magic to do—as a veritable wellspring of magic, as he’s kinda sorta a dungeon master ruled by HIMSELF now, he has plenty to spare. Plus, banshee legends might still exist in Dungeon Meshi. As for the languages thing… it’s me throwing him a bone for taking away his ability to use lasers. I might let him overshadow people, but seeing as that just kills people in Dungeon Meshi, I might not. 

The two siblings begin taking odd jobs in town. The people think it’s a LITTLE odd that a Tallman (Jazz) and a Halffoot (HOBBIT, Danny) are siblings, but they usually just explain that they were both taken in by the same couple. If anyone even slightly insinuates it’s something else, the two both start gagging before they begin lecturing the gossiper. 

While Danny’s skills as an interpreter ARE extremely valuable, they find that with so many new people in this town that, apparently, JUST rose out of the gotdang sea, that there are many people looking for all sorts of odd things, and THAT is something Jazz is more suited for than translating, seeing as the only language that she knows from THIS world is Common. 

In short, she finds out about potions. You know, that thing mentioned like ONCE at the beginning of the Dungeon Meshi series and NEVER MENTIONED AGAIN (afaik). 

Ingredients are a liiiittle hard to come by in markets, but most of them just need magic to grow, right? And Danny can make magic ice that turns into magic water. 

Jazz starts a farm. When Danny starts taking home books and such to translate on a commission basis, mostly in order to avoid another close call about knowing ancient elvish languages that they may or may not be incredibly suspicious about him being able to know, he takes care of a lot of the gardening. 

It’s at this point that Danny finds out he can just take a mandrake that’s in a pot, dunk it in a barrel of water, and harvest that way. It’s still a bit LOUD, but it won’t harm or kill anyone. And, the water now has magic toxins or whatever, which could have uses of their own that Jazz is now experimenting with. 

So, basically, Jazz is out here doing the Dungeon Meshi Cooking Montages except its potions and it’s mildly terrifying. 

Danny is just glad that he’s ALSO legally a halffoot adult and can just go to town to a tavern whenever she’s being too weird. Good news: he can drink alcohol now! Bad news, sort of: it does nothing for him. I mean, go him for never getting drunk, but like, rude. 

Both Danny and Jazz are learning magic, mostly because Danny needs to offset some magic every now and again so it doesn’t build up (ie, his ice) and should at least look like he knows what he’s doing so he doesn’t get caught, and Jazz is learning so they can occasionally depend on her to claim that Danny’s magical whatever is actually HER doing. Plus, it helps with the potions. Most involve magical ingredients, so the maker doesn’t need to be a mage, but still. 

Danny gets a bit homesick about Sam and Tucker, so he makes a magic mirror in an afternoon and contacts them through one of Sam’s compact cases. It had some unique design she made on the back of it, so he’s able to hone in on it. Sam is EXTREMELY jealous that they’re living some kind of cottage witch fantasy, meanwhile Tucker is like ‘they have wHAT kind of meat? And you left me here?!’. 

Yeah. Tucker and Laois would get along, although Senshi would definitely have some words to say about his nutritional needs. 

SPEAKING OF the Dungeon Meshi characters. What, you think I wasn’t going to add them?

Falin likes to take walks through the area. As it so happens, the Nightingale House is about two hours of very casual strolling from the castle. She discovers them one day when she noticed Danny tending to the mandrake farm (there’s likely other magical plants, but I imagine Danny is wary of the more monster-like ones). 

Danny just can NOT keep her name in his head. He keeps calling her Bird Lady. Falin is not upset by this. She’s actually pretty glad to make somewhat friends with Danny and later Jazz, because they’re both pretty nonchalant about the feathers thing. Most are fine, but some are still… Off about her. Also they didn’t participate in the whole eating her thing, which she didn’t MIND but some people avoid her because they think she WOULD be upset. 

Falin is also glad to find that Danny can see ghosts like she can. She promised to keep his little magic secret, though she likely has no idea how powerful he actually IS, and she visits like twice a week. 

At some point, Itsuzumi claimed their front porch as one of her napping spots. Jazz thought they should maybe not have a cat girl sleeping on the doorstep. Danny agreed… by making a hammock. Jazz just accepted her fate and occasionally feeds her. That said, Itsuzumi doesn’t stay in one place as her ‘home’, so it’s a toss up if she’s there. Still, she somehow convinced the postmasters to only deliver mail to the Nightingales, seeing as they don’t mess with her letters and are out of the way enough that she has privacy when she does read them. If she’s there while it’s raining, she’ll take over the couch. 

Like, Itsuzumi doesn’t have keys to the house or anything, and Danny and Jazz are both a bit secretive, but that translates really well to respecting Itsuzumi’s privacy as long as she isn’t bringing huge problems to their doorstep. Danny did once offer to see about making up a guest room that was more or less hers—the house did need repairs, so some of the rooms weren’t quite habitable even if the house itself was fine to live in. Itsuzumi was not a fan of this, as I imagine her the type to not like feeling so tied down, but she did accept a compromise of having a closet space for her to store things. It’s where Danny and Jazz will put her letters when she DOES get them. 

Danny’s need to help people isn’t an obsession, but he IS quite fond of it, so as he does his work but also studies magic Just In Case, he finds a certain affinity for sensing magic, monsters, and breaking curses. The first one he broke was entirely by accident—the client had no idea that the book passages he gave to Danny were cursed. 

It worked out, it was fiiiine, stop worrying so much Jazz. 

While Danny certainly wasn’t advertising the curse breaking part, his previous client was told about it, and suddenly everyone knew that the Nightingales knew a little about curse breaking. They assume it’s Jazz, and Jazz has to learn on the fly how to break simple curses and protect herself until Danny can come actually work his literal magic. Jazz, oddly enough, is the one to figure out how to make protective charms. 

Also, she’s successfully made the first section of her water filtration system. 

Listen, they are very busy. But they’re hoping if they branch out enough, get a big enough system, they can find Danny’s parents. Because all they REALLY had to go on was One—They were halffoots, Two—Danny’s hair came from his mother, and Three—in both Jazz AND Danny’s cases, the Fentons kidnapped a twin. 

It’s this work as a cursebreaker and Jazz’s work as a near miracle worker at potions—her little mad scientist experiments were bearing fruit after all—that Falin brings Laios over to work with. Long story short, Danny’s general attitude about it is ‘fuck that lion guy’ because he recognizes the work of a ghost—er, demon—when he sees it. Sure, the Toudens don’t TELL Danny it was a winged lion, saying after a really long pause that the cursers name was Leo or whatever. But Danny isn’t completely stupid, especially not about something he can PLAINLY see. 

Also, a good note here is that neither Jazz nor Danny have ANY idea who Laios is. Sure, they’d HEARD of the King, but either Danny gave him a nickname, they think Laios is one of those cases where there’s an uptick of people named after a famous person, or it’s just a super common name. Or, heck, it’s entirely possible that Laios has a king monicker and that’s ALL that Jazz and Danny have heard, and they don’t know that the king’s name is Laios. 

Anyways, Danny is like ‘you have two curses from your frankly very petty curser’. And they’re like ‘yeah we know’. 

For the monster repellent curse, Falin points out (possibly on her own but also possibly remembering something Kabru said once) that it’s a pretty useful curse, but that it upsets Laios to have on him. So, Danny thinks ‘What Would Sam Do’ and makes a creepy doll. The idea is to attach the curse to the doll, but for various reasons involving having the curse NEED an amount of magic to stay going, it needs to be, well… fed. As you MIGHT recall from Dungeon Meshi, blood is pretty potent as a magic tool. 

So, anyways, blood sacrifice for the repellent doll curse, preferably either by Laios or someone of his blood. I’m sure this won’t become a plot point for a b rated adventure story several generations later where they need to find the One True Heir to help save the kingdom or whatever. 

As for the hunger curse, it’s a pretty tricky one. Most curses, Danny can kind of just. Push it out using his own magic, or trick it into thinking its done whatever the curse maker wanted it to do. But this curse is very ingrained, as hunger is something very basic to literally everyone, and it’s goal is basically ‘then SUFFER’ and that’s hard to make it understand when Laios is, technically, already and constantly suffering from it. 

So, it needs to be magically purged. Starve out the magic in Laios’s body, starve out the curse. Issue being that it’s EXCEPTIONALLY hard to do that when magic is LITERALLY in the air. 

With a bit of thinking, Danny comes up with a solution, and tells them to set up their creepy doll shrine and see him in three days. Also maybe haggles the price because while he DOES have a way to do this, it’s a bit risky to not only Laios but to the makers of Danny’s curse-breaking method. 

Danny contacts Sam, who contacts Frostbite, who is VERY against this but ultimately agrees so long as Danny is careful. Danny technically has Jazz do most of the next part, so he’s being cautious. 

The Toudens come back, with Laios happily chattering about a small monster he noticed just before they got to the Nightingales—good to know what the range of that is then, though it may have become smaller with the smaller vessel and the lesser amount of regenerating magic supplying it. I’m not looking up the one panel that sorta shows how big the field is right now. 

Danny is like, bundled up and covering his mouth, while Jazz is very careful with the prepared potions. 

Blood blossoms. Basically anti magic, which do not grow in this world naturally and should never do so, and involved Sam needing to travel back in time to grab a few. They explain their caution as Danny being extremely allergic to one of the ingredients and the effects of the potions being dangerous to mages in general by DESIGN. 

In short, Laios has to take these potions for three days—one bottle for each day—and to light a candle anointed with the potion in the forth bottle in a closed space he needs to stay in for the duration and at least an extra two days. There’s also a fifth bottle that he needs to sprinkle into any food or drink he has for that time until after the fifth day. Remember, magic is everywhere in Dungeon Meshi. This is basically him going into a sterile bubble field for a while, but also needing to include sterilizing the things he eats and drinks as well. 

“Don’t keep even a drop,” Danny warns them both very, very seriously. “This stuff shouldn’t exist here, but that is one NASTY curse you’ve got. Anything you’ve got leftover, including the bottles, bring back here.” 

He also tells them that its possible that Laios might never regain magical ability he had previous, or if he DID he had to relearn it. Laios accepts this risk. He wasn’t much for magic anyways. Danny also tells him to maybe make sure the room(s) he uses isn’t his usual bedroom, and again that he needs to stay in them as MUCH AS POSSIBLE, preferably not leaving at ALL, until after his treatment. 

They take his warnings seriously, at least, and they head off, carefully with the contents they just got. 

They actually do as instructed! Kabru did manage to take a drop, though, just to see what would happen. Holm’s undine DISSOLVED is what happened. Kabru did not take any more risks about that because WHAT the hell, WHAT. Laios and Falin also won’t tell him WHERE THEY GOT THIS FROM. At least, not until after they finish the treatment and see if it works. 

It does work though! He gets his normal hunger cues back after a couple of weeks, and Falin happily tells the Nightingales that it worked. Great! Never tell anyone what they did. Also give back the bottles please and thanks (handed off to Sam very carefully—although blood blossoms ARE a magic-and-ecto disruptor, they can be put through portals, such as the mirror phone things that technically also act as portals). 

A little late for total secrecy, but no one that the Toudens didn’t already trust with the numerous secrets they already had, including but not limited to Marcille’s fun necromancy habit. 

… Listen, I know that the curses Laios gets are like, consequences or something, but I didn’t like the hunger curse because of my own traumas and didn’t like the monster avoidance curse cause that just seemed cruel. Which I get was the point but I have OPINIONS on the whole thing, and it ultimately equals up to “Laios didn’t ask for this, and I’m not sure he’s actually happy in the end”. Anyways. 

Because they literally helped heal the king, Laios does invite them over to dinner in the castle. 

“That guy was a KING?!” Danny shouts. 

Jazz is just like. Yeah that fucking tracks. But hey we can ask his help about the parentage thing! 

So, now they’re going to dinner. That’s fun! Maybe! 

Side note, Jazz has now invented showers and indoor baths. She’s still working on a heating and cooling mechanism but at least all the water is clean. She’s still working on getting faucets for sinks, such as in the kitchen. 

Don’t ask how they have time for this, by the way. The gardening, their actual jobs of potion making and translations, Jazz’s plumbing project, Danny’s (and slightly Jazz’s) magic training, and the biological family search. To be fair, they probably have very few leads on that last one, so extending their social net is kind of their only plan. 

They get dressed up fairly nicely and go to the king’s castle for dinner because apparently Danny just cannot stop impressing royalty both dead AND ALIVE as it turns out. 

There, they meet the whole Touden party. Itsuzumi is there. Both parties are very surprised, but good to know, but also what. W h a t. 

Senshi likes hearing about how similar potion making and cooking is, and he and Jazz seem to be getting along pretty well! Chilchuck, meanwhile, is like. Why does this kid—sorry, young halffoot adult—look so gotdang familiar. Regardless, he offers to help teach him a few things about halffoot culture, seeing as Danny was apparently raised as a Tallman. 

“Yeah, we didn’t even know about other races! We just thought Danny was a little weird,” Jazz said. 

“That must have been really isolated,” Marcille replied. 

Oh, she didn’t even know the half of it. 

Of course, someone questions how Danny was so good with languages if their ‘isolated little village’ never said that any race other than Tallmen existed, to which Danny just kind of says he had a knack for it and was bored, so. Languages. They kind of just start following patterns after a certain point. And he and Jazz HAD been traveling for a while. 

Dinner goes well, with just one odd report about scratching in one of the mirror halls by the guards that Danny juuuust manages to hear before he and Jazz go out the doors. 

That’s probably nothing! 

A bit more time passes, with Senshi visiting Jazz and helping her learn ACTUAL cooking in exchange for those sweet sweet mandrakes and the water harvesting method while Danny gets lessons from Chilchuck and, ironically, another halffoot named Dandan about Halffoot culture. Luckily, Danny just so happened to know the halffoot language equivalent of Common, but they teach him a bit more about the language anyways. 

This is also when he learns that Halffoots tend to have twins, but also that it’s not terribly uncommon for one of the twins to die. Happened to both Dandan’s ex wife and to Chilchuck and also so, so many other halffoots. That just made Danny’s search even harder. Yikes. 

By week two, Danny is very tired of CONSTANTLY hearing the term halffoot, and so has requested Tucker get him a copy of the Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy to send through mirror-mail so that Danny can then translate THAT into Common and go publish. Maybe if he has a book or two to sell, he can make a passive income so he can concentrate on things other than translating YET ANOTHER tax form because the local government all wants Common—understandable—but not everyone can READ Common. 

This may be a time to give Danny a misadventure with some orcs that paint him as a fucking weirdo but ultimately friendly. 

Jazz gets the idea that hey, if the whole halffoots have lots of twins thing is true,  meaning that she and Danny are going to have a TIME of it trying to find HIS parents, maybe she and Danny should invent, like genetic testing with magic and or potions or whatever. It’s not like they don’t have an understanding of genetics, if what Kabru’s (adopted) mother teaches him is any indicator, but genetic testing it relatively modern by our own standards. 

So they start developing that. Falin still visits, mentioning how there seems to be a scratching that just won’t stop in the castle, but its always in the same hall of mirrors so at least its localized. Just, really weird. Everyone else thinks its ghosts, but Falin has checked so many times now and there just isn’t one. But Laios is doing fine, he’s very thankful, and Danny is like hahaha don’t mention it! No really, don’t! You already paid me! We had dinner! We’re friends now! Ahaha!

Should it be the case that Halffoots (-HOBBITS!) have tails, Chilchuck still has his, though it’s a liiiittle shorter than it should be, and he’s the sort thats proud about how long his wife and daughters’ tails are. He’s reconnecting with his family! Slowly but surely! In case you CAN’T tell, I actually like happy endings here. Despite the everything else I put in a story, ha. Anyways, as such, he’s a little offput by Danny’s parents since Danny admitted that they’re the ones who cut it off of him, and that even then they never told Danny that he wasn’t a Tallman despite having to have had at LEAST a clue that he wasn’t one. Shouldn’t the orphanage or however they got their kids from know? Don’t tell him that both Jazz AND Danny were just left on their doorsteps. 

“Definitely not that one, aha…” Danny quickly changes the topic. “So I wrote this story—or, well, its like this story that was SUPER popular where we’re from—“

Chilchuck also explains how Danny’s name is just SO weird to most of the other halffoots. Like, it’s not OUT there, per se, but definitely reads as Tallman. Even admitting its fully Daniel does not help. This is also when Chilchuck explains that part of the infant mortality rate, halffoots don’t get their names until their fourth month of life. 

Jazz made some liberties and changes to the Hobbit to fit in a little better with Dungeon Meshi and it’s whole world, but otherwise it’s mostly the same story. Chilchuck and Dandan get free copies as they’re helping Danny so much, especially with getting Danny used to other people like him (mostly). They’re both pretty impressed with it, though Danny insists that it wasn’t exactly his own writing. But, hey, the actual author was dead and he doubts any copies are going to come from his old hometown any time soon so like, might as well! 

Also, copyright law is probably far different in Dungeon Meshi than here, ha. I declare it—legally in the clear! 

Danny has a mission with this and that’s getting people to use the word Hobbit dammit! 

Surprisingly, despite not showing up in it, the gnomish community quite like it. And so do dwarves, and elves, and halffoots, and it becomes pretty popular. 

It’s The Hobbit. This is not an unexpected result. Thank you Chilchuck for helping with the printing rights and contracts for getting the book published. (And we can guess that the printing press DOES exist in Dungeon Meshi, since we can see the books they have—though there may be other obstacles about getting your hands on a book, we can see by the amount they have and how gimmicky Laios’ monster book is that printing a book itself is likely a done and solved issue in some way or another). 

Danny is extremely glad he did not put his own name as the pen name for that mess. 

While all that drama is happening, including the fact that Chilchuck’s wife—I have named her Brightmerry—is now a very avid fan and would love to meet Danny, Danny and Jazz have just about perfected their genetics test. Laios and Falin know about the test, although not WHY they’re doing it. Despite some concerns that the magic and chimeraism that probably STILL affects both, though Laios’s maybe got purged during the magic curse breaking thing, it certainly was unpleasant enough for him that he’d BELIEVE that he got part of him ripped out, they still seem to test just fine as siblings. Still, they need more tests. 

But it’s not like they know an entire family, do they? 

Danny complains about this issue to Dandan, in part to see if Dandan knew anyone that MIGHT be willing to help. 

As it so happens, Dandan volunteers Chilchuck. Chilchuck only agrees to drag his family into it because he generally trusts Danny and Jazz even if they ARE kind of weird and make incidental inventions at their house that they should REALLY sell, because WHAT do you MEAN you have a hot water shower?! He also knows that both Brightmerry and Fullertom would like to meet Danny because of the book he totally did not steal from another dimension to make a profit. Might as well drag the rest. Plus, they assure that the test itself won’t hurt, and will even demonstrate with themselves and with the Toudens what a false and what a positive result will look like. 

So, they arrange a date to do so at the castle. Kabru is pretty interested in the experiment, truthfully, because it seems neat! Not at all because of his own issues with his hometown involving his eye color! Why do you ask! 

Off they go, and the best space to do this in due to some preparation and magic circle nonsense is the same room Laios did his whole magic purge, which was the mirror hall. It’s small but open, with no windows except for a small one in an attached restroom area. Sure, there’s some creepy scratching going on from time to time, but no one has gotten hurt or recorded anything else odd. 

The magic genetics test involves having the participants positioned equally around a magic circle in little circles of their own, having a small cup of a potion that gives off a lot of steam or vapor—entirely harmless-, and pricking a drop of blood into the potion. What happens with a positive is that the vapor takes on a color and follows a trail through the magic circle, and the colors and how strong the connection between the vapor trails between two people tell how related they are. In a negative or, when two parents are in the circle, the vapor trails will not have ‘matching’ or similar colors, and the trails will not actually meet up with each other. 

It’s still a work in progress, but it should tell at least siblings. Luckily, Chilchuck did manage to get all three of his daughters and his wife along, with Dandan being invited as another variable to test with. 

Danny and Jazz go first, showing how their trails don’t meet up. And there’s not a particular meaning to what color a vapor trail is to a person—it can change and vary for each test, it’s only consistent when it’s a ‘positive’. 

Than Laios and Falin. Fittingly enough, their trails are fairly strong, with just a few different trails fraying off, and slightly different shades of green-ish yellow coming from their potion cups. 

The Chilchuck Family then take a turn, and they can observe the trails. Sure enough, Chilchuck and Brightmerry don’t have any connection, but seem to match and meet with each of their daughters’ trails, who also connect to each other in a web of vapor. They decide that maybe more than three is hard to read. 

They agree to do a couple of combinations and tests, which Jazz and Danny are like ‘sorry for all the finger pricks!’ But they DID bring a bunch of sterilized needles at least. And Falin is happy to heal them in the meantime—using the space as an anti magic purge room seems to not have left an affect on the magic now in the space. 

Dandan joins a few times so they can record how he doesn’t match at all. Laios then mentions why Danny isn’t doing that when they explain he’s adopted and therefore for all he knows, he’s distantly related. 

Which prompts them to have him test with Dandan and Chilchuck. 

He doesn’t match Dandan. 

But he does match Chilchuck. 

This does not change when he repeats the experiment. 

They then switch out Chilchuck for Brightmerry. 

… And he matches to Brightmerry. 

SEVERAL different trials later involving all the halffoots there confirms it. 

Somehow. Someway. 

He is Chilchuck and Brightmerry’s child. 

Are you surprised? Probably not that was a twist coming a mile away not going to lie. 

Anyways, the story THEY give is that he’s Puckpatti’s twin. They’d been napping outside while with one of Chilchuck’s brothers, when something or another distracted said brother for, at most, two minutes. But then Puckpatti’s twin was gone. He was stolen, although they hadn’t actually KNOWN what had happened, when he was three months. It’s why Puckpatti’s name was, well. Puckpatti. Puck was supposed to be her twin’s name, and they considering having her be Pattipuck, but Puckpatti worked better. It wasn’t particularly odd for twins where only one survived to carry the other twin’s name as either their first or second name. This is also why her usually nickname is Patti instead of Puck. 

Danny and Jazz explain that… yeah, they were taken in. As in kidnapped. Hadn’t wanted the pity points but saying they were adopted felt kiiiiinda wrong. 

Now, this would be a very touching family reunion scene. 

Except now that mirror scratching has started up. 

And its loud. 

And—Oh would you look at that. 

Mirror portal. 

Can you guess who pop through? 

It’s the Fentons! Say Hello to Jack and Maddie. 

It’s a whole confrontation scene, which BASICALLY goes with Maddie and Jack absolutely NOT realizing anything they did wrong, insisting they SAVED Danny, that there were two and it was fine, and BESIDES, JAZZ wanted a little sibling and when ASKED she asked for a brother, so really, its her fault. 

Jazz gets a guilt complex! Chilchuck tells the Fentons that thats NOT HOW THIS SITUATION WORKED, SHE WAS TWO! 

Jazz also has a horrifying memory of when she was four and Danny was two, and asking if they’d like a younger sibling, and that they’d have to agree, but Jazz said yes and Danny said NO and was this why there were only two of them?!?

Danny disowns them, pointedly saying that cutting off a baby’s tail is kind of MESSED UP DON’T YOU THINK.  And they go, well if you’re going to be ungrateful—and he gets like, hella hurt. 

More arguing and fighting, and Danny just kind of lays there and lets himself heal before propping himself back up like. Did. Did you think that would work. You have a magic science workshop that I regularly cleaned did you NOT THINk. THAT WOULD NOT HAVE AN AFFECT. 

The Fentons go ‘oh, he’s a ghost’ and disown him right back, though not in so many words. Whichever members of the Dungeon Meshi group you imagine are there right now take it as ‘he’s a MAGE?!’ 

Danny tricks the Fentons back through the mirror portal and shatter it. From what he guesses, the magic purging done to Laios let there be a slight thinning in the natural magical-ecto-whatever barrier that protected this world from another one. The Fentons didn’t know where the kids went, but might have figured out they went to another world, but couldn’t locate the notes to locate the Dungeon Meshi world. So, instead, they tracked Danny and Jazz themselves. With all the blood testing Danny did in the same room with a thinning veil, that meant they were finally able to break through by using him as an ‘anchor’ to follow through the mirrors. 

Universal constants, remember? Both magic mirrors AND portals are things in both worlds. 

Danny takes this time to go ‘well, they already know anyways’, and uses the opportunity and also all his blood now on the floor to make some quick magic barrier things with Jazz’s help. She’s better at protection sigils, after all, but he’s the more magically powerful. Together, they sort of ‘lock’ the dungeon meshi world. Or, more accurately, they lock out a certain scientific couple. And, because three is a stronger number for magic, they also block out Vlad. Three birds, one stone. 

THEN Danny passes out, you know, like a champion. 

Once awake and reunited with everyone, things begin to simmer down. Sure, Danny was just exposed as a powerful mage to the King, but the king is just like ‘Eh, won’t mention it, I don’t know anything I’m barely sure how I became king most days and I was THERE’. Marcille probably finds out, either because she was there or she’s just really good at finding out things she absolutely should not, also possible interest from a long time over Jazz and Danny and their whole deal. But she’s also just like NEAT. Translate these texts for me and we’re even. 

Danny is not convinced about her smile but goes with it regardless. 

Chilchuck and family are cautiously open to Danny. Of course they’re glad to have him home, but also—he’s lived his entire life ELSEWHERE, so while Chilchuck knows the most about him, he’s still a stranger. 

A few cute fluffy bits about learning about his siblings and his mother and father. Notably—Chilchuck is APPALLED that any child of his doesn’t know how to properly lock pick. Even Fullertom, the MOST disinterested in his line of work, is well aware of how to do it. Brightmerry is fond of reading, and Danny has lots of stories she’s never heard of going through his head. He insists they’re just local stories he’s heard of here and there, but she’s like. Suspicious of it. Not enough to cause him to stop telling her them, though. He also learns of the interests of his sisters, and is also like WHAT. WHAT DO YOU MEAN I’M STILL THE BABY. 

The three girls are also fond of Jazz, surprisingly enough. Like, I’d hardly call them besties, but they get along pretty well. Especially when teasing Danny. Jazz tells them of the occasions she’d dress Danny up as a princess when they were little, and next thing Chilchuck knows, he’s walking in to see his son—not resisting being dolled up, because he loves his sisters already, but also very clearly hoping for an out. 

“Have fun,” he says and leaves immediately before his daughters can drag him into it too. 

Jazz has completed her indoor plumbing project! They no longer have a latrine and cesspit! They have proper toilets AND a filtration system for both incoming AND outgoing water, and along the way she’s made a waterwheel for electricity to power the filtration system AND the heating and cooling systems. They’re ALMOST modern at the Nightingale house! 

From here, things are a bit more loose. 

Danny makes gifts for his family for some kind of festive holiday. For Chilchuck, he gets a wood carving for the night each of his children were born, as well as his own birthday and Brightmerry’s. Since Meijack and Fullertom are twins, as are Puckpatti and Danny, this means four carvings. Each carving is technically a thin piece of darkly painted wood with holes drilled through, but when a light is shined onto the correct side, such as a candle or Jazz’s next project involving lightbulbs, it projects out the night sky. 

Danny consulted a LOT of astrological charts for this thing, but due to how close their dimensions are, the stars were mostly the same between the two. It’s not a universal constant, but the closer two dimensions are, the more similarities there are. 

After all, the Fentons were trying to slip BETWEEN dimensions, which is kind of like sewing but only going through to BETWEEN two pieces of fabric, even if the fabrics are already rubbing against each other. In other words, precision was needed, and there was no point in aiming for a FAR dimension for this, that was more likely to end in failure. 

An alternate for Chilchuck is that Danny finds alcohol in the Infinite Realms to give him, if you want Danny to have more free access to the Realms. Just warns him to only drink it if he WANTS to be completely sloshed, and to maybe not do that at home, haha. 

Anyways, for Brightmerry, he gives her not the next one, but the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy, translated and edited for the Dungeon Meshi world. He assures his father they’ll get a copy for print later, but this was the first edition and it was for Brightmerry. 

Meijack got an armband for easily hold and quick access to her most common picklock tools. Kind of like a bracer or that sliding blade thing from Assassins Creed. 

Fullertom, Danny gave her a bunch of blue ribbons and accessories. Jazz had to point out for him that this meant he was supportive of her desire for marriage—Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. Usually a tradition reserved for the marriage, but anyways. 

As for Puckpatti, he makes her a magic compass. No matter where she is, she can always ask her to point it where she wants to go. North, South, the next town, home, to a specific person, so on. The first thing she has it point to is to Danny. It’s a much more touching moment than I am capable of writing right this second. 

Uhhhh a plot point I hadn’t integrated yet was that Danny absolutely cannot cook with meat. It was started in the ‘they met during canon dungeon adventure times’ but I hadn’t translated it fully yet. Basically, when Danny tries to cook with meat, it comes alive—like the turkey or the hot dogs in canon, and SOMEWHAT like the familiars do. Of course, it’d be really weird to be able to do that without even trying, and possibly mildly illegal, so they just have Danny not cook meat. Then a draft came to be where Danny was like ‘fine I’ll just SHOW YOU’ to Senshi, and if it was in the dungeon, then he’d use them against a monster, and if it was during post canon, it’d be against his parents. Then the point of WHY all or most of them were together during the Fenton’s break in changed from the dinner party to the genetics test, and there was no reason for Danny to have been cooking. 

Danny finds and introduces Fullertom to a dwarf that she starts dating. Chilchuck isn’t sure if he should be concerned or impressed with the portfolio Danny pulls out when Chilchuck asks about the dwarf and what Danny knows about him. 

Another plot point for why Jazz and Danny were staying so long, outside of finding Danny’s birth family since we have now figured out he WAS developing normally and the whole portal thing was just sorta because of how tricky that power is, is that Princess Dora wanted Danny to find a good host for the Necklace of Aragon so that her brother could no longer claim it. It would, predictably, eventually go to Laios. Also, I am starting to realize I am more partial to Laios than the other characters, whoops. Anyways, I hadn’t figured out if I could or even SHOULD integrate that into the plot. 

Payment for the blood blossoms were going to include five of Fallin’s feathers. They’re magically powerful, and three of them were going to be used for each name that was ‘blocked’ from the Dungeon Meshi world. So one feather for Jack, one for Maddie, and one for Vlad. I haven’t decided if I’d keep that or not, but I also wasn’t sure what to do with the other two feathers, and just asking for three and that HAPPENS to work out, the number being considered magic aside, felt a bit off and too convenient. 

Danny would eventually take on a new name in honor of his birth family. Danbright Chils. Dan is him, obviously, and since he’d be taking Chils for Chilchuck, he decided to take Bright for Brightmerry. (I actually debated between Bright or Bridge. So either Brightmerry and Danbright or Bridgemerry and Danbridge. This is directly because of Danny’s ‘be the bridge’ thing.)

Things are just starting to settle… 

Then, Sidney of all people shows up in Danny’s magic communication mirror. And we get information that due to Jazz and Danny’s mild meddling with the magic-ecto-whatever barriers, that Jazz’s twin has become aware of the fact she once had a twin—basically, Inspector Gordon kind of ‘felt reminded of [Jazz]’ and told Barbara about it. And since Barbara is part of the superheroes club, she was able to find out that not only was her twin alive, but in an entirely different dimension entirely. 

Annnnd that’s all I got. 

It’s a lot! Don’t expect me to publish it! Have a nice day! 

[whennoodlesformwords]

One Myphai/Phaidei AU (Library and Romance flavor) For the Counter

I lied, this one is bugging my head and refused to stop so I release it to the world and let it roam free and pester yall instead. Y'all get two today.

*i say that like I have a following but it's just one person (hi there random person I love u <3)*

The Meal:

Phainon and Mydei meet in the library often and they start checking out books before each other to get the other’s attention (yes this is very whisper of the heart coded but in my opinion they started it with the whole 'visit my library thing' so what am I supposed to do, hm?)

Phainon ( i really wanna give him the nickname kelvin instead of kevin if he's a chemistry or science major, but I'll restrain myself) and Mydei recognize that there's a cute guy who always checks books out (Phainon prefers some occasional apocalyptic or sci-fi genres alongside his school mandated text books, while Mydei is a sucker for historical and historical fiction and refuses to elaborate on why he also sneaks in a few cookbooks into the pile too) and wants to get the others attention.

You can choose (probably Mydei with his subtle anonymous romantics but Phainon is always bold as well so who knows) who makes the first move, but they start checking out other genres of books before the other in an attempt to catch their attention. Soon, though, they start leaving sticky notes since that didn't work. It started one time (on accident, totally not on purpose)when Phainon checked a book out and accidentally left one in, but then Mydei saw and wrote a little message on it hoping that maybe Phainon would make sure to get it back. When Phainon remembered he left a sticky note in his book (or the librarian reminded him to stop putting notes in his book) he went to look for the book only to find the sticky note inside with a note and another book to check out.

They start a back and forth, learning about each other (Mydei always finds a way to reply bc hes probably the librarian assistant) and it keeps going until the end of the school year, when the final note one of them leaves is a phone number (or if it’s both of them leaving their number and a place / message saying they want to meet up) and then they hit it off from there and rediscover a lot about each other.

Sides:

Phainon keeps talking about the hot guy he always sees in the library and is always like ‘yea u can’t be as hot as him’ kinda thing and Mydei just is so confused until Phainon gives a description of the guy and Mydei is like "oh no he’s so whipped for me…..now we can tease him" so he starts insulting himself (the guy Phainon is talking about) and Phainon just starts defending the guy and it escalates to Mydei daring Phainon to go up and talk to him, saying he assumed Phainon hasn’t even spoken to the guy, and Phainon is just a mess trying to keep checking out these books when he approaches Mydei all cool and tries to talk and strike up conversation with this stoic librarian helper (or however you wanna put it).

Mydei makes Phainon check out awkward books along with what’s going to help him in his courses, and Phainon is trying not to look awkward in front of this guy checking out his books (and trying to be subtle while checking him out as well lol) and Mydei just keeps making note of what gets a reaction out of Phainon so that he can keep teasing him after he officially introduces himself beyond their little book talks.

Phainon makes Mydei check out books that he also likes so that if they ever meet they can talk about all the books together, hoping that Mydei likes them too (based on how it takes a while for him to spot the books on the shelves again even after they talk, Mydei probably does read those books. And if Phainon sees him looking around at other books to read similar to what Phainon makes him check out, he'll keep that to himself.)

Hyacine and the other chrysos heirs just watch from the sidelines and have a running chat on how the endeavor is going from both sides (since these two are practically the most eligible bachelors on campus or smthn) and castorice finds it so romantic that she keeps giving Mydei little romance novel recommendations that he reads through and sticks his note onto one of the sweetest /cringiest/ smuttiest parts that Phainon has to get stuck with seeing. One time he found a manga book and *accidentally* asked castorice for a copy of her 18+ doujins and put it inside it (idk how it works but it would work for the power of plot) and Phainon, being overeager and trusting, opened the book up in the middle of class to find the note, and now rumors are spreading that he's into yaoi which he isnt (it's a lie if people say the book was never found again, he swears it was in the library system He's below stealing from public property. Private, however, is a different story)

Thought of this as like a 'message in a bottle' kinda thing but instead of a bottle its a book, and I'm a sucker for anonymous identities and all that as well as a little cliche romance. Feel free to tweak or write what you want from this, I think I actually thought of adding different books from aeons as the authors (or other prominent hsr characters) and it made me crack up that I could title a book as being written by Zagreus and Aha and I actually liked it so much.

Anyways hope yall liked it, lemme know if you bounce more ideas off of this I'd love to see what y'all think up or write. I know hsr and the phaidei ship is blowing up rn (fanfic writers pls keep writing i love you guys mwah) and I'm a big lover of this ship too. I have a few more ideas that I may hold off on for now but enjoy this in the meantime!

Happy writing and plot bunny managing (say hi to them for me) and make sure to keep yourself safe and hydrated and fed and know that ur loved~

[yxstxrdrxxm-a]

SYNOPSIS: Tattooing is a work of art. Though, he definitely saw that it can also be used as more than an art medium itself.

TW/s: yandere behavior, abstract/drabble writing, protective Xiao, he’s a dumbass but its okay, nsfw tws include targeted by the dark web, graphic depictions of violence, near abduction, stalking + sexual harassment. Please proceed with caution.

NOTE FROM HR: Happy Valentine’s Day! It would seem that today just isn't working out for you, is it, miss Ana? Well, never fear! I’m sure our lovely tattoo artist has something to help you with that… Right?

“You’re back.”

That was the first thing that Ana heard from her tattoo artist, Xiao, speak at 1 in the afternoon— a weird time, considering he wasn’t aware she had an appointment booked with him.

“Are you here for a tattoo?” he asked her, making her shake her head. Carrying the food she bought for him, he placed it on the counter, noting the small shift of expression on his face as he caught a whiff of something faintly sweet in the packaging.

“No, but I’m sure you’ve been working for hours on end,” she said, tapping on top of the package. “Here, eat up. I made sure to buy almond tofu for you.”

Now, for those who may be wondering, just how can the reclusive tattoo artist be with a date that’s the clear opposite of his personality?

It was a long story, which started from the very beginning when they matched up in the app.

Xiao isn’t the type to choose anyone on a whim. He has standards, and for him, many others failed to fit those standards. It was also obvious when he saw Ana’s, but instead of scrolling past and ignoring her, he took his time to look into what she wrote. He didn’t want to write her off just yet.

The next thing he knew, he swiped right with her and began to talk to her in the app.

Their conversation topics were all random at first: general get to know questions, their experiences, and even bits of what the two like. The two clicked on what they both liked listening to, which artists they enjoy the most, and even a few preferences for both to tune into. He did suggest a few that lean into crime podcasts, since he tends to listen to them often while he worked on tattooing his clients. Perhaps it was a strange preference, but she didn’t see it that way.

It wasn’t even long until they began to discuss matters in seeing each other in person, and the first time was because of a tattoo appointment she wanted on her arm.

“So, you want this tattoo placed… Here. Am I right?” ���Mhm. Do you think you can do it? My friends had said that you were a good tattoo artist, so I wanted to be sure that it’s something you can do.”

The two were sitting at his office as Xiao was looking at the image, examining the tattoo design she wanted him to put on her. The design wasn’t all that complicated, but he knew he could add something to make it pop out easily, and especially with the detailing of her tattoo choice.

“... I can,” he answered, closing the folder as he faced her again. “However, you must pay upfront. I need to get the materials and equipment needed in our next appointment for this type of tattoo on Friday.”

He watched her nod as she handed him the payment, his hand drifting over to grab it and check how much she paid. It was enough for what she wanted, with an additional $20. Raising an eyebrow, he looked over at her and grabbed it, handing it back to his client.

“No need to give me extra,” he told her, sighing. “It’ll be a waste.”

“Oh? Well…”

He could already hear what she planned on telling him. He should take it anyway as she felt bad, or that it’s not right to not tip someone for their services, or—

“... I’ll take it back, then. Thank you again, Xiao. it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

—!

Xiao seemed to be caught off-guard at the turn it took, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second, but it left as quickly as it did. Regaining his composure, he nodded and simply stood up to lead her out of the shop.

“If you need anything from me, you know my number,” he told her, his amber eyes shifting away for a moment. “... And if you want to go on a date, call me.”

It was strange. He’s not used to romance, and Zhongli had all but taught him how. He wanted to say that he had the confidence like that old man has, but he’s still learning. And Gods, he’s unable to even comprehend how social interaction and cues work.

Still, he did hear her laugh and feel a gentle warmth on his shoulder.

It felt nice.

“Of course! For now, I need to go and meet my friends this afternoon. Goodbye, Xiao.”

As the warmth left his shoulder, he finally raised his head to watch the lady exit, his eyes drifting to her while he recalled the expression she wore in front of him.

Such a gentle smile, unwavering and confident. He had always admired those who could do it without a single moment of hesitation, and sometimes, he found himself loathing that he couldn’t do the same. To be able to smile and look onwards, like nothing was bothering them in the first place.

He sighed and raised a hand to sift through his hair. The bitter feeling rising in him was something he disliked, but he couldn’t bring himself to blame it on her.

It was their first meeting, and it was one that Xiao remembered well.

How ironic, considering the next ones were as eventful as the first, if not even more than anything he’s endured.

The second time this happened was when he was on one of the first few dates with Ana. The two were surprisingly able to her friends commenting on how she found someone and kept it a secret from them.

He didn't like to make their relationship known, and there was a good reason why— he hated to have them find out he has someone he tolerated better than others.

Even if it was just a simple drunkard. Or two.

Point is, it happened. While Xiao was dealing with her friends asking him about his occupation, he caught wind of Ana getting involved and being harassed by one of the older men that are obviously wasted. She was trying to tell them to stop bothering her, but it seems they weren't paying much attention and even touched her in areas that can warrant sexual harassment.

“C'mon, pretty girl, why don't—”

“Move. She's my fiance.”

The drunkard looked over at Xiao, his eyes narrowed as he noticed that he was one of the clients he tattooed years ago. He scowled at the sorry state he was in— the man had a job as a republican, but one too many scandals led him jobless.

Hmph. I'm glad I managed to tattoo him with that before then.

“Yours? Pfft, do you have anything that makes her yours, little boy?”

Xiao scoffed.

“That ring she's wearing. I gave that to her.”

Complete and utter lie, he knows Ana had it since the day they met. Though, the ring was placed on her ring finger…

“You're harassing my girl. If you don't move, I'll get security,” he warned, walking closer to Ana to gently hold her hand. “And you wouldn't like getting kicked out again, would you?”

The ex-republican scoffed but he slunk away, and the two watched as the others jeered and called out to the republican figure for what he's done.

How annoying.

“I didn't know you'd say that out of all things.”

Xiao's head whipped towards Ana. It was clear from the way she said it that it was meant to be seen as light-hearted, but from the tense moment they had, he was struggling to process it.

…

He scoffed and let her hand go.

“He won't back out otherwise.”

And he knew he wouldn't. No one would.

“How many people have you tattooed with that mark?”

“I don't know.”

“Oh, but you do. People tell me that the victims went to you to get tattooed and died after a few days!”

“Sounds like a load of bullshit.”

Xiao isn't fond of dealing with people. He didn't even bother hiding that fact, since he disliked meaningless drivel with some of them. What he hates is when they become overconfident with knowing what he didn't.

It was a big deal to them, but to the artist, he found it more of a joke. An impractical, unfunny joke. He'd rather listen to one of his co workers explain it and ruin it than this.

“A load of— listen to me, sir,” he spat, jabbing at his chest. It would've been intimidating if Xiao didn't think it was a bit childish, “I work with the agency. We're trying to figure out what the hell is happening, and if you don't say shit, I'll tell them you're that famed serial killer going on the loose!”

…

“Seriously?”

Xiao sighed.

Such is the way of being an idiot, he thinks. It's no wonder I don't bother tattooing people on a walk-in appointment.

“Wh— are you doubting my credibility?!”

“Not when you're harassing me.”

Watching him get annoyed, he saw the man out, watching as a certain someone came to the shop. Seeing the man storm off, he watched Ana raise her eyebrow at Xiao; a silent question, it seems.

What happened? He can read from her expression. Though, this made Xiao sigh and turn his head to the shop.

Come inside. That is what he was trying to say by his body language.

And she did.

It wasn't long until the two were talking about the incident: Ana had to hear Xiao explain briefly of the accusations he's given, what he replied due to the lack of evidence, and the childish fit that the reporter had to leave.

Still, that looming threat was never something he can let go of, nor he can't stop pondering about. Maybe it's just him, but there have been moments when that came to light.

… Or nearly, anyway.

“I see… Well, they're definitely too nosy for their own good.”

“Mhm,” he answered, cleaning up the pen he used for tattooing. “Anyway, are you here for your appointment?”

“Oh! Yes, I am. I want you to tattoo my arm.”

Retrieving the paper detailing her tattoo, she handed it to him. Examining what it looks, he simply raised an eyebrow.

Granted, the tattoo is simplistic— he can make do with outlining the bird like it was a constellation. It wasn't something he would suck at. However, the bird she chose was a phoenix.

Interesting metaphor. Though, he's simply curious on what drove her to choose such an interesting thing to be on her arm.

“... Hm. Alright. I can do it.”

Placing it down, he began to prepare the tools and lead her to take a seat on the chair. Pulling on the lever, he adjusted it so that she was facing up and he pulled up the arm that she wanted it on.

It wasn't long until the soft thrumming of the tattoo gun echoed as he worked on the tattoo, following each and every step of the stencil down to its smallest details. Sure, Ana and him conversed while he worked, but he remained silent to focus on doing the tattoo.

Silence was a comfortable thing for him, and sometimes, he can see it be a comfortable thing for her, too.

It did take hours until he was done with the tattoo, and although he had half of his mind to add that mark, he added something else that’s tied to him. Right by the wing had 保护 written on it, each line and curve made as accurately as one could with writing a different language.

It was different from the ones he’d do. And he made sure to keep it that way.

“There. It’s done.”

He observed how Ana’s eyes would trail over at the tattoo, moving as she examined it in great detail. He was one of the best tattoo artists she could ever find, but he knew she saw that print on the wing, too.

It was just a relief that she didn’t bother to ask.

“Since it’s your first time getting a tattoo, you can have this,” he added, grabbing a bag full of supplies with an addition he left there for her. “It’ll help when your skin gets irritated with the ink. Others had that happen to them.”

“Really? Well, I’ll use them if that happens.”

“Good.”

His amber eyes flickered from the tattoo gun and towards the bag, catching the gleam of turquoise peeking from inside.

It was convenient that he placed that thing in her bag.

Now, he had an even bigger reason to do what he had to do to those that dare to mess with what’s his.

“I didn’t know you’d come back to stalk her,” the tattoo artist commented coldly, his heels digging into the wound on the reporter’s side. “I’m surprised. Seems like you have the audacity to try again to ‘frame’ me yourself.”

He hardly cared for the amount of blood he spilt. For the tattoo artist, having to make someone be worried in his shop was more than enough to gun for the culprit.

“Tell me. Were you going to abduct her?”

The reporter had the audacity to laugh at his face, the pain sending his mind to overdrive. Scowling, he dug in deeper, feeling his patience wear thin. He hated to delay what could hurt his lo— friend, he had to correct himself. He didn’t want those people to get to her.

“W-What’s it to you? I thought—”

“I’m not involved, but that’s my friend, you garbage.”

With another dig at the wound and his gun loaded, he aimed it at his other leg. He was already sure that she would wind herself in danger because of what he’s done, so he needed to be swift if he wanted to reach Ana.

He can’t risk losing her. Not to those bastards.

“I’ll ask again. Were you going to abduct her, you vile being?”

Much to his displeasure, the reporter laughed again. Although, he can tell that he wasn’t in the right mind. The expression he wore simply reminded him of those bitter memories he had hid all those years ago in his time at Enkanomiya, and he loathed to see it on another person.

Heaven knows what drove him like this, but he had done something immoral. He needed to do this in return.

…

Yes. He needs to. She’ll die if he doesn’t.

“... Hmph. I suppose you’re no talk and bite.”

Click. BANG.

…

Xiao could vaguely hear the gunshot ring as blood began to pour out onto the pavement, but this time, he felt no guilt for his actions. He knew it was bad, but he could hardly care about what’s on his mind.

Turning around, he grabbed his phone and contacted Ana’s number. He needed to be able to speak to her. He needed to.

…

It rang once.

It rang twice.

It rang far more than that. It continued to ring and ring, amping up Xiao’s worry the longer she didn’t take the call.

And after God knows how long, he heard it click.

“Xiao?”

… She’s fine.

“... Did I wake you up?” he asked her on the phone, his voice lowering its usual volume— possibly due to his relief. “I thought you’d be awake.”

“Mm… Almost, but yeah,” he heard her yawn. “I was… Looking for that guy. Then I fell asleep for, uh… an hour or something.”

…

“Has anyone entered the house?”

“... No. I’m fine. I had it locked, like you told me to.”

Good.

“Say, you sound panicked—”

“I’m fine,” he told her, cutting her off. With a sigh, he looked at the body, then at the phone. “Anyway, I’ll… Leave you alone for the night. I have a few things I need to take care of.”

He’d have to ‘clean’ things up. He can’t let her see it.

No one can ever see the crime he's done.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2024

[copias-juicebox]

A taste of your own Poison

Pairing: Terzo x fem! Reader Words: 7324 Genre: one shot (or maybe two in the future?) Warnings: starts off innocent and turns into a little spicy rubbing up and down.. no actual smut though Notes: it's here. I wrote this to get Terzo out of my system. It didn't work. anyway here you go. Summaray: Terzo is an asshole, usinghis status too much. He has grown far too cocky for his own good. He sleeps around the ministry, breaking hearts until he meets you. You are not easily swayed. A worthy opponent for him.

Also on AO3

You‘d been walking around the ministry for about 30 minutes now. It was your day off and you decided to explore the huge building and its grounds a little more. You were a relatively new member of the clergy and so you were curious what this old, massive place had to offer. Maybe you could find any hidden places, secret passages or even just a small, calm spot should you ever be in need of solitude. You had no plan where you were going, your feet carrying you down a long hallway at one end of the building. You passed many great halls and pretty doors on the way. It was a friday afternoon and most of the clergy members had decided to spend the rest of their days outside since it was a mild, spring evening.

As you walked along the corridor you noticed a big oak door, with intricate patterns drawn on it in the corner to the left. You were not sure what it was but the door itself intrigued you and before you realized your feet came to a halt in front of it. You decided to see what lay behind it. You pushed the heavy door open and peeked inside.

The room that stood before you appeared to be an office with high ceilings, through the huge windows light flooded the area around the desk and you could see dust particles fly through the air. On either side of the windows stood a shelf with loads of books. The dark heavy curtains were pulled to the side and neatly held together by a clip.

„Saluti Sorella. What brings you here?“ a voice from the other side of the room startled you. You turned to the source of the voice and saw Papa Emeritus the third, standing there, to the left side behind the door. In the area, that was slightly hidden from the direct view of the door, stood two armchairs and a coffee table. Papa stood there awaiting your answer and smiling at you. His papal makeup impeccable, just his hair slightly hanging over his eyes.

„O..oh hello Papa.“ you bowed down to show respect. „I uh I was just wandering around actually. Not really intentionally coming here. I didn‘t think I would cross paths with anyone to be honest.“ you answered him a little blushing because you just wandered into Papa Terzos office without even knocking first. What a terrible way to introduce yourself to the beloved Papa. You reprimanded yourself.

Terzo stepped a little closer and smiled sheepishly at you. „I appreciate the bow, bella. I assume you know who I am then?“ he stood there, hands clasped together in a very collected manner.

„Of course I do Papa. Everyone in the Clergy knows you.“ you smile at him, hoping not to say anything wrong and fuck up the first impression he has of you, well not more than you already ruined it for coming in here without knocking.

„You flatter me Sister, but unfortunately I can‘t say I have seen you around, no?“ he cocked his head to the side, a frown forming on his handsome face.

„Ah yeah that is because I am a relatively new member of the Clergy.“ you told him, fidgeting in your spot.

„Hmm. And your name bella?“ he held out his hand which you looked at a little embarrassed and gave him your name and your hand, expecting him to shake it, when instead he bend down, one hand behind his back, the other one lifting your hand to his lips and kissing it. He kept his eyes trained on you and your slight gasp that escaped your lips was something he took pride in as a small smirk crept upon his face. „A pleasure to meet you Sorella.“ He let go of your hand and came back to stand in front of you. „And how exactly did you find my office?“ He looked from right to left as if he was seeing his Office for the first time.

„Well like I said I was just walking around a little, getting to know the place since I am still fairly new you see?“

„New to the ministry, huh?“ Terzo chuckled. Well you have found your way into Papa Emeritus‘ Office bella. I apologize for the mess here.“ he looked around the relatively clean space, just a few papers lying around and an empty cup of coffee stood on the desk.

Your eyes widened realizing you just ran into Papas Office. „Oh no it‘s not messy at all. Actually I have to apologize. I didn't mean to intrude like that you see I was just walking around and I saw this beautifully adorned door here and I wanted to see...“ you started rambling.

„It is quite alright sorella, I don‘t mind having you here.“ He interrupted you lifting his hands up and down again to calm you down. „This is actually my great grandfather's old office. He was also Papa Emeritus but the clergy was much smaller at that time.“ he said, gesturing to an old painting of another Papa above the fireplace. You inspected it and when your eyes dropped to Terzo he was overlooking a stack of papers laying atop of his desk.

„Uh I am not interrupting your work am I Papa? I can leave..“ Before you could finish he once again stopped you.

„My work for today is finished.“ he shook his head. „Besides you are my guest now. I need to show you some hospitality, sí.“ he grinned.

„I just don‘t want you to feel like you have to. I am fine leaving if you are busy and want to be left alone. I know you are a busy man after all.“ you tell him smiling softly.

„I appreciate the gesture, bella but it‘s not necessary.“ he put his hands on his desk leaning against it. „But I am not that busy.“ A moment of silence passed over you. You admired the room and the ambience the light created. „You look nice by the way.“ His sudden compliment pulled you from your momentary daze and you blushed slightly, not visible but you felt the heat creeping up your neck. Here we go. Not even a week in the ministry and he already is living up to his reputation you thought.

„Ah thank you Papa.“

„Of course. It‘s true.“ He chuckled „But you know, I bet you‘re even cuter when you‘re flustered.“ he began to saunter in your direction, around his desk.

You took a step back, regaining confidence „Papa.. don‘t even start please. I know what you are doing and I won‘t fall for it ok.“ you countered his obvious flirtations.

„Oh what am I doing Sorella?“ By now he stood in front of you. Not too close yet but you could see his face and eyes close up. „I am not flirting, Sorella, just stating the obvious, yes. You are cute and easy to embarrass.. And I think I‘ll try to make that happen.“ he smirked.

His words made you want to fight his charm. How dare he think he can just lull anyone into his arms. You might look like an easy target, easy prey for him to pounce on but you knew your way around men like him. He wouldn‘t be the first one to try and sweet talk you to lure you into his bed, just to kick you out when morning comes. No you were not going to give this man what he thought was so easy to achieve. If he thought he could play a game he was going to go against a worthy opponent. He triggered something in you. Something you had buried deep down. A sad and hurtful memory that you cherished but also wished you had forgotten.

„Well you try all you want. I am not going to get flustered by your attempts because I know your reputation Papa.“ you smiled at him sweetly, acting up.

„Oh yeah? My uh.. reputation you say? What exactly is my reputation sister?“ He stepped closer to you, his voice an octave lower now. „And are you sure? I bet I can get you so adorably flustered before the hour ends.“ he said teasingly.

With every word he said and the cockiness of how he said these words you felt yourself getting more and more competitive to show him how wrong he was. Obviously this man was not used to anyone denying him and you were going to do exactly that, you decided. You were about to teach this man a lesson.

„Oh I dare you. Try me. But don‘t cry when I don‘t give in“ you said confidently, raising one eyebrow at him. „And about your reputation you know.. the usual I don‘t think I‘ll have to explain.“ you shrugged.

„Oh, the usual yes?“ he stepped even closer making you take two more steps backwards now only a few centimeters away from the wall. „Well what are you going to do if I do this?“ he closed the gap between you, pushing you into the wall and caging you there with one hand against the wall. He tilted his head to the side inspecting your cheeks. „Now is that a slight, adorable shade of pink I see?“ he said cockily with a smirk.

Boldly you counter by holding eye contact with his mismatched eyes. „I am telling you Papa I will not give in to your attempts. I know what you are.“

He hums deeply „Oh and what am I then, bella?“ he chuckled, moving his face closer to yours. „Am I a flirt?“ he guessed. You could feel his hot breath on your skin and it made you slightly tremble.

„Not just that, no.“ You put your hand on his chest and pushed him away gently. „You‘re way worse than that. You‘re a womanizer.“

He laughed and his smile grew bigger as your hand hit his chest. „Alright you might be right. I will admit that. I mean come on I can never deny a beautiful Sorella. Satan did not give me all this..“ he looked down on his body. „..to hide myself away from the ladies.“ he smiled devilishly. „But what if I am? Are you going to stop me Sorella?“ he kept his cocky tone, teasing you.

„No. you may do whatever you want. You‘re Papa. But don‘t be mad if it‘s going to hurt your feelings.“

„Oh don‘t worry about that. I won‘t expect anything. Even though I can‘t say that I believe you would be able to resist me. I imagine many in the ministry have fallen for me.“ he smirked.

You wanted to wipe that smirk from his face. That absolute arrogant bastard. But he was right. He did have many admirers. Now that you were thinking about it you were sure there was not one Sister or Brother for that matter who wouldn‘t let Terzo do them however he wanted. You were sure that many of them would actually kill to be in your position right now.

It was well known that Papa was a very eager lover. He knew about his charms and he knew how to talk to women and men. Oddly enough his reputation of being a player hardly seemed to repel the other Brothers and Sisters. Maybe it was just a little different for most of them, being more open with their desires and sexuality but to you it was nothing you wanted. You had heard many stories, many nightly encounters between Sisters and Papa. They always ended the same way. They’d spend a night full of pleasure together and that was it. He would invite them again but if any of them had any romantic expectations they would always get rejected. It never stopped the other Sisters to try and shoot their shot. Some of them might be happy just to spend one passionate night with their Papa, others were hopeful to be the one for Papa, the one he falls for. Whatever their motives were you knew you wanted more than just a one night stand. You wanted, no you needed someone that was there for you, someone to rely on and someone you could trust. Someone that belonged to you and you alone. Someone you could share your most intimate moments with. And you were willing to wait patiently until the right one comes into your life. This man on the other hand was the total opposite of that. He runs around lusting and seeking pleasure in a different bed every night.

„Papa half of the clergy fell for you. And you know that so don‘t pretend you‘re oblivious.“ you retorted.

„So uh you‘re saying I am a heartthrob?“ he asked, still wearing that goddamn smirk. „Well if you think I‘m so irresistible then you won‘t be immune to my charm, will you?“ he said. „Maybe I should try to make you fall for me now?“ he joked.

You scoffed. This man. You were nearly speechless. „Good luck trying Papa. The knowledge alone that you are doing this to anyone in the clergy without any meaning is enough for me to never fall for your games.“ you shot at him.

„Wouldn‘t that just make me a better lover, armore?“ he quipped brashly. „I would call myself quite experienced. I understand how the female body works. You just have to let me take care of you.“ he purred in your ear.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, not believing what you heard. He backed off a little. „Very well then I respect your decision. But just to make sure…“ he moved in closer to you again „since you are so unaffected by me, you don‘t mind if I do this?“ he leaned in his lips mere centimeters from your own, his eyes observing your expression. He lingered there for a long moment waiting for your reaction.

You pushed yourself further into the wall. „Nope. Doesn‘t affect me.“ you answered, slowly feeling your self control slipping away. No you could not give him the satisfaction of winning this.

„Are you sure Sorella?“ he whispered. „even if I were to do this?“ he started to move in closer and for a moment you panicked thinking he was going to try to kiss you. Before he could do so you managed to swerve to the left, which resulted in him nearly kissing the wall.

„Oh no no you don‘t get to kiss me Papa.“ you shook your head.

He smirked blushing himself under his papal makeup. „Very well. You win. For now.“ he backed off. „But I can‘t promise I won‘t try again. I am a man of commitment after all.“ he stated, arms spread in front of him.

„You are a player, that's what you are. I don‘t want no player, no short lived night of love, no.“ you snorted.

„You don’t want one night of utter bliss and pleasure, no? We could do it more than once then.“ He snickered. You didn‘t react to his stupid remark and he continued. „Ok ok. I don‘t blame you. But let me warn you. I am terrible at rejection.“ he frowned and chuckled at the same time. He cleared his throat and added „You know this is nice. Just.. talking to a pretty sister like you.

„You call that talking, huh?“ you laughed out loud, throwing your head back.

„Well you didn‘t run away or slap me. That is something. And I have other topics of conversation if you‘d prefer. But I do have one more question?“

You frowned. „I have a hard time believing anyone here would have the balls to slap you. And you‘re papa, if anything they would love any attention you gave them. They are all going crazy over you.“

„Well if you knew how I flirt with some sisters you‘d understand my fear of getting slapped.“ he added sheepishly, earning a questioning look from you. „But you didn‘t answer my question. May I ask you one thing?“

„Ah yeah sorry. Sure, go ahead.“ you encouraged him.

He took a moment to form the sentence and you waited patiently now that he gave you some distance you could breathe again.

„Have you.. ever been in love before?“ Terzo asked, tilting his head. It sure was a strange question. One you had not expected him to ask you now all of a sudden. He remembered that one woman. He was still young then. How he tried to woo her, in his odd ways, he had even written her a poem. Unfortunately it didn‘t work. She dumped him and moved on. She found someone else. He hadn‘t forgotten her. He would never forget her.

Your expression softened. He was seriously asking you an honest question. „Well if i‘m being honest with you I don‘t think so, no. I‘ve had a few crushes yes but never once I would call any of them love. Why?“ You were curious why he was suddenly interested in that?

Terzo nodded. „I was wondering..“ He frowned „You see sorella, I have been in love before.“ He stepped closer again „I tried so hard to impress her. To please her, but.. I wasn‘t enough. She left and found someone else.“ his voice was distant now, as if he was lost in his own thoughts. He himself didn‘t know why all of a sudden he told you this. But something about you reminded him of her.

Hearing Papa share this intimate story with you surprised you. Suddenly you felt bad for him. You even pitied him when you saw his sad eyes staring into the distance. „I am sorry to hear that Papa. It was not supposed to be then. I am sure you will find someone else.“ you tried to lift his mood.

„I hope so.“ he sighed softly, looking up at the ceiling, exhaling. „But I fear she was my one true love. I doubt I‘ll ever be able to love someone like that again.“ he mumbled. „Do.. Do you know what it‘s like to have your heart broken?“ his eyes found yours again.

You shook your head „No.. No, I don‘t think I do. Since I have never loved anyone. I did feel some sort of thing for the guys I dated and they sure as hell hurt me but I don't think that feeling comes close to having a broken heart.“ You stood for a moment in silence. Terzo contemplating your words. „But do you want to hear my opinion Papa?“

„Hmm“ he looked up at you „Sure yes tell me what are your thoughts?.“

„I don‘t think that there is just one true love in this world. If you give yourself and someone else a chance, you can find the one that actually is for you. Just because you believe she was the only right one doesn‘t mean she was. If she rejected you i‘d even say she probably wasn‘t the right one yeah?“

Terzo blinked, his mind blown at her perspective.

"Hmm... I... You... You're right," he nodded, "That's quite some wise advice for someone like you." He chuckled, "Where did you learn that?"

You chuckled. „I don‘t know I just kinda have a „gift“ of seeing more than just one perspective on things. There is always a bright side to look up to. And most people don‘t see them when they are down. And I like to remind them because I want to help them.

"Well, you're good at it. I wish I could have that outlook on things." He looked down to the ground, head hanging low.

„Anyway“ he clapped his hands together and smirked moving on and changing the topic suddenly, "Do you enjoy your time here in the Ministry? I understand it can be boring, which is why I try to make my office as inviting as I can. So my, ah, „guests“ don't get too... bored." He teased. You noticed the very odd looking objects he had stuffed into cupboards or on shelves. Many of them surely occult, some more normal for an office space. Paper stacks, pens, organizers and envelopes and a magnifying glass lay on the desk, some decorative items such as a small statue of Baphomet and a small accompanying dagger with the sigil of Baphomet lay on the edge of his desk. In the other corner of the room on a podest lay a very expensive looking Satanic Bible. Next to the podest stood very high candleholders with halfway burned down black and crimson candles.

„Well thank you. I quite like it here. This place is to my liking.“ you replied „You managed to archive that with your office since i was intrigued enough to come in here.“

Terzo took a moment and looked at you before speaking up again. "Hmm, do you know that you're rather pretty, Sorella?" Terzo asked with a smirk, "I could stare into those eyes all day."

Papa was trying to get her riled up again, to see if he could get her to blush. But at the same time, he genuinely meant what he said.

Oh no he is back again now. I know what he is trying to do. He does not actually mean it that fucker. „There he goes again.“ you muttered to yourself. „It won‘t work man. But keep trying. You‘ll eventually have to accept your defeat.“ you responded.

"Oh, but that's because you haven't seen me really try. Maybe if I tried this...?" Terzo smirked, closing the distance between you again.

He put a hand under your chin and tilted your face to meet his gaze. He stared into your pretty eyes for a long moment, his own mismatched eyes full of fire.

"There's nothing I could do to get you to fall for me? Even this?" He asked. You smirked at him and visibly gulped. „If it was anyone but you Papa I might get weak. But you? No, I could never give you a chance.“ you explained to him.

"Oho, that's what you think." Terzo took a few breaths, steadying himself as he pushed her back into the wall. „Are you flirting with me Sorella? "You said anyone but me but I think if I really did try, you'd start to feel... something. Or maybe.. you already do?" Terzo smirked in return, still holding your chin with his gloved hand, "Let's try one more time, eh? What's the point of giving up so soon? He once again leaned in closing the distance more.

You stare into his eyes, face inches apart. „Papa I am honest with you. There is nothing you could do that would make me change my mind here. I don‘t want a guy to just play me and drop me when he gets what he wants. My self respect is too high for that.“

"And who says that's what I'm doing?" Terzo asked, tilting his head.

His other hand gently caressed the side of your cheek now, slowly moving back and forth on your soft skin.

"How do you know that I'm just a flirt? That I would just drop you like that?" He asked quietly. „You don‘t deserve to be treated that shitty, no.“

As much as you wanted to fight it, his words had an effect on you. You started to understand why everyone around you was so enthralled with him. He was a truly charming man. You knew that the moment he kissed the back of your hand in that smooth manner but you could not let him get to you.

„It’s very obvious papa. You‘re just trying to prove your point here. If I were to give in, the worst you would do is laugh at me and rub it in my face how you knew I couldn‘t resist the glorious and irresistible Papa Terzo. And at best you would seduce me into your bed for one night and the next morning forget about me. Don‘t think I don't know that kind of man! I may have never truly loved anyone but I had my fair share of partners over the years. They are all the same and I swore never to fall for someone like that anymore.“

"Oho, you say all that? And yet..." Terzo smirked, moving his hand away from your chin, only to begin caressing your collarbone instead before he spoke again. "You seem to be attracted to me? You may deny it, but you are, aren’t you?" He teased with his deep husky voice.

His touches and voice was slowly breaking down your walls, but you laughed it off, masking your growing attraction to his very essence. „You wish papa, you wish. I am just trying to be respectful because you are Papa. And I couldn't exactly slap you can I?“

At this point Terzo had to admit he was starting to doubt his impact on her. He simply wasn‘t used to any of the sisters denying him. In fact they all nearly fought to spend the night with him and this Sister here was testing his patience. It only made him desire her more.

Terzo let his hand slowly slip over your chest area, testing the waters of your comfort zone.

"Oh, you could slap me if you wanted to." He smiled, "I doubt you would, though. I think you like me." He moved his face an inch closer to your ear, whispering seductively. "I think you want me to do... this..." he breathed out.

He suddenly kissed your neck and as fast as he had leaned in he pulled back, the same smirk still glued to his face.

Your eyes widened and your heartbeat quickened when you felt Papa kiss your neck. It stunned you and for the short moment you got lost in the feeling before you could shake yourself out of it and regain your senses. You slowly pushed papa off of you. “Nope no. Don‘t do that. I never gave you permission to do that.“ you warned with a shaky voice, not sounding as nearly as convincing as you wanted to.

Terzo chuckled darkly, his eyes glancing upward as he let his right eyebrow twitch, "Hmmm... But I did it regardless."

He moved close to you again, smirking down at you. "It seems you lost all your composure, eh? And I thought I wouldn't make you squirm..“ the last part he mostly mumbled to himself.

You eventually wiggled yourself around between his arms and managed to get a little bit of distance between you. „You are the worst Terzo. You belong to horny jail. Really are you down that bad? I could give you a list of Sisters that would gladly spend the night with you.“ you nearly hissed, trying to get him off of you by luring him with another Sister.

„Ha so I‘m the worst? But you‘re getting all worked up over me bella.“ he smirked, his nose almost touching yours. „So, what? You‘re offering me someone else? Do you want me to take my attention off of you?“ a smug smile on his face.

God he is so full of himself you thought.

You pointed your finger at him. „Yes! Yes you are. You are enjoying this. You are even having fun doing this, you‘re insufferable.“ After you took a moment to compose yourself you continued. „And yes I could give you a list if you‘d like. If that gets you off of me that is.“

„Oh is that so?“ Terzo asked interested.

„Yes I know one Sister who would be perfect for you actually. She keeps talking about you nonstop. Terzo here.. Terzo there.. she literally never shuts up.“

„Now who is that Sister you are talking about, mh?“ he wanted to know. Of course he wants to know. That horny motherfucker. „What is she saying about me? Does she think of me often, yes? Does she think of me in bed?“ At this point he was probably creating scenarios in his own head, You assumed.

„Oh look at that. Someone interested, huh?“ You teased him.

He looked back at you. „Give me her name bella. Let me talk to this lovely sister. Perhaps she can be my little plaything for the night?“

The scowl on your face was instant. „Are you fucking serious right now? All you‘re going to do now is use the poor girl and then throw her away?“

„She‘s not a poor girl if she wants me.“ He lifted a finger. „Now tell me what‘s her name?“ Papa leaned in his mouth close to your ear now, whispering „what is her name bella?“, nibbling on your earlobe. He was messing with you and you knew it but it actually felt so good you had to pinch yourself to shake him off of you.

„If I am going to give you her name you promise me to be honest with her and make your intentions clear? She will not get hurt by you?“

„Of course bella. I am not that cruel. “ Terzo grinned wickedly. „I promise you this yes? No tricks and no deception on my part.“

You contemplated for a moment and ultimately decided it was not your responsibility and both were adults who clearly would enjoy each others company so you gave him the name.

„Sister Emma. It‘s sister Emma. She has the biggest crush on you.“ you sighed

Instead of backing away from you as you expected him to, he kept you between his arms.

„Hm Sister Emma you say?“ Terzo smirked. „What has she been saying about me?“ His Hand slowly, carefully moved towards your face, his gaze wandering to your lips. He couldn‘t hold back his now mischievous smile.

„Satan please Papa, you should ask her yourself don‘t you think? And stop touching me! While you ask her you can touch her all you want or all she wants yeah? So you can keep your hands to yourself right now.“ you tell him, lightly struggling against him. You were not really trying to get out of his grasp. You didn‘t feel threatened by him but you were adamant of telling him off and you wanted him to be the one realizing his defeat, which he apparently couldn't or wouldn‘t anytime soon.

„Hm but what if I don‘t want to stop touching you? You are attractive, after all.“ Terzo smirked, pressing his body further into yours. His gaze shifted to your lips and he reached his hand behind your head to move it closer to his own. You realized what he was about to do and your eyes widened. This time he was about to lock his lips on to yours and you quickly pulled your hand up and put it in front of your face so his mouth connected with your hand.

„I am not your little plaything Papa!“

„Hmm you‘re so close.. yet so far“ he mumbled against your skin. “You want me but you‘re denying it. Why Sorella? Why do you not let me pleasure you?“ his hand wraps around your hand now holding it in place as he starts softly kissing your wrist now.

„Tell me Sorella, does this hurt or does it…“ he paused nibbling on your sensitive skin. „Or does it feel good?“ You could not deny that man knew what he was doing. His mouth felt amazing against your skin but you would not let him toy with you. No, in fact you had an idea.

You were shocked he was being so gentle. „Lord please, you are insane really. How do you even come up with this on the spot? You wiggled around, purposely rubbing against him, pretending to try to get out of his grasp. „Papa, if anyone sees us like that they will get the wrong impression.“ you tried, sounding disgustingly cute, even to your own ears.

"Hmm? What's the problem with that?" Terzo smirked, moving closer to your neck. His voice was gentle yet still full of his playful charm.

He moved his face slightly so he was close to kissing the crook of your neck, "Does this... Make you uncomfortable?" He whispered, slowly moving his lips up on your skin.

You wiggled around more, his hot breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, making goosebumps run up your spine. „Papa please..“ you pleaded, sounding desperate and lost.

He groaned „Mhm, that only makes me want you more.“ he chuckled and started nibbling on your skin.

You gasped, it wasn‘t like you were not expecting this. You knew he was going to do it but the prickling feeling on your skin, everytime his lips connected to your skin was not something you got used to easily. Terzo moved down to your collarbone, leaving soft kisses and nibbles there.

„You‘re enjoying this Sorella..“ he mumbled against your skin, with a playful yet dangerous tone in his voice. „Say you like it..“ he whispered.

At this point you were sure he was doing this mostly to prove a point, not to you no but to himself. He was obsessed with you agreeing. He needed you to say it, to give in and you knew he would not stop if you didn‘t. But you were not finished with your plan yet. You needed him to get frustrated before you could get to step number two.

„No.. no I don‘t.“ you whispered back.

"Yes you do, bella... I can tell.." Terzo replied, nibbling at your collarbone again.

He moved his lips to your neck and kissed it. "Tell me you enjoy this..." He kissed your neck again. "Tell me you enjoy the way I touch you..."

Terzo smiled down at you, his gaze still fixated on your neck. Lord he was obsessed with your neck. He looked like a predator, like he was getting closer to his prize.

Your eyes fell shut and your arms came to rest on Terzos shoulders. Just a little more. You thought. „No please just let me go. I promise I will send Sister Emma to you right away.“ you fake whined, your breath hitching towards the end of the sentence. You were nailing this.

Terzo chuckled quietly, his lips still attached to your skin. He was moving to the other side now, repeating the same actions. „Do you really want me to stop?“ His face lingered against your skin, caressing it with his lips and tongue. „Say you want me to continue.“

„N.. no please stop.“ you stammered. Now was the time. You started to move against him, rolling your hips forward directly into his, the movement painfully slow.

Terzo groaned and his body froze for a split second. You had him where you wanted him.

Terzo ran up his hands over your hips, his voice becoming more and more seductive as he whispered to you, "Do you feel that?" He started nibbling your neck again, "Do you feel... how you want more? How you crave my lips against your neck?"

Terzo breathed softly against your ear, "You want me..." He moved his lips to your face, his words full of confidence and lust.

You pulled him closer to you, so his body was now pressed flush against yours. He took that as a sign and hummed, pushing your legs open with his knee, moving impossibly closer.

You waited patiently for the right moment to strike, craning your neck for him to get better access. He welcomed your action by attacking your skin, trailing hot kissed up and down until he reached the spot right under your earlobe. For a moment you relished in the feeling, but eventually you had to make your move. You suddenly grabbed his shoulders and spun him around, switching your positions, his back colliding with the wall. You pinned him down, grabbing his wrists so he wouldn‘t get out of your grasp too easily. „Okay Papa, enough of your teasing.“ You stared at him, face just a few centimeters away, waiting for his reaction.

Terzo gasped. „Oho Sorella..“ his deep voice echoed in the room as he grinned up at you, his pupils dilating, full of desire and lust. You had just triggered something in him. His eyes dipped down to your lips and he couldn‘t stop thinking how beautiful and lush they looked from up close.

„Well I‘m impressed.. I didn‘t think you would do such a bold move on me.“ He looked to your arms, pinning his wrists to the wall.

You mustered up your most seductive gaze and looked him straight in the eyes, mumbling to yourself. „Now where were we..“ your eyes wandered down on his body, pressing yours further into his as your face came closer to his neck this time. You started breathing heavily into his ear and your started grazing his skin with your lips and teeth softly, moaning quietly as you pressed soft, lingering kisses onto his flesh.

The man in front of you shivered, a mix of pleasure and anticipation building up in him. His eyes fluttered closed as he took a deep breath. „Ohh.. my.. Sorella..“ Terzo stammered out as your lips connected to his neck.

You worked your way down his neck until he bucked his hips forward. You smirked against his skin and started to lick that spot, softly nibbling and sucking on it.

He hissed „Uh yess..“ You looked up at him with your mouth still attached to his neck and he looked slightly vulnerable. It surprised you and deep inside of you something was coming undone. You sucked on the spot even harder making him slouch back into the wall. His breathing became labored and you knew you had to keep going.

„My neck.. is so sensitive..“ he muttered. „And you‘re so gentle sorella…“

Your hands started to roam over his slender body, while your mouth moved up to his jawline, kissing him gently. You made your way to his ear and whispered „Papa you‘re so kissable.. and so tasty.. I wonder how you really taste.“ you continued to nibble on his earlobe which earned you a throaty moan and a whispered „Cazzo“. You chuckled „Are you enjoying this Papa?“ you asked seductively, lifting his shirt up to feel the bare skin of his stomach. Your fingertips softly, ghosting over his soft flesh.

The man under your fingertips shivered as he answered you. „Oh yesss sorella..“ his voice trembled and his eyes were still closed. His breathing became more ragged and rapid with each passing second that you worked on him. „This is..“ he sounded completely lost in the moment right now. „..incredible Sorella… I want you. You‘re so good with your mouth.“ he moaned.

You nibbed on his skin more. „I am just returning the favor, Papa.“ you stated with a sultry voice.

Terzo bit his lip, stifling a moan as his breathing became more shallow. „You are going to be the death of me..“ he said, finally looking back at you and capturing your chin with his hand and pulling you closer to his face. In his eyes were blazing flames now you could see them burning hot for you. „Let me taste you Sorella..“ he nearly begged?? You were not sure if you heard correctly but he sounded quite desperate. Your plan was working out better than you expected.

You raised one eyebrow at him. „Papa I haven’t even started yet. You replied cockily. „Let me take care of you, yes? You deserve this. You deserve to feel good, ok Papa?“

To accentuate the point of your words you rolled your hips into his, you continued to rub up and against him with sensual moves as your lips latched back onto his neck. Terzo couldn‘t even answer he threw his head back against the wall with a thump and moaned out loud this time. You began to move faster against him and you could clearly feel his hard erection against your thigh now. You angled your body differently and rubbed the head of his cock against your throbbing core, a jolt of pleasure running through you and you couldn‘t hold back your own needy moan that escaped your own lips.

Your underwear was now drenched, you were certain and you yearned for more friction. Thank Satan that beside being worked up yourself you could still control yourself. It was all going to be worth it just to see his face after this.

Terzo apparently was doing much worse than you. He was completely lost in the feeling, his hands started to run down your body, every curve and bump he was grazing, until they found their way to your ass. He grabbed it and pressed you harder into his own hard cock, guiding your movements against him.

„Ahh Sorella.. what are you doing to me.. please don‘t stop.“ he moaned. You kept rubbing into him, feeling your own arousal leaking down your legs.

„Keep going…“ Terzo groaned, eyes never leaving yours. He couldn‘t believe how much pleasure he was experiencing with that many clothes still attached to your bodies. In fact he never experienced anything like this. It turned him on. A lot. For the first time ever he began to get worried he might come in his pants if you kept going like that.

„Tell me Sorella..“ he was breathing hard. „Do you want me?“, as the words left his lips, a small moan escaped him again.

You didn‘t answer him, just hummed against the crook of his neck. „I want many things Papa.“ you successfully evaded his question. „And I do need to get laid some time soon.“ you told him honestly. „But I don‘t know if you‘ll be the one for me.“ you still teased him.

„Tch..“ he sighed and ran his fingers through your hair. „Why do you have to be so cruel to me amore?“ „Sweet Satanas you're turning me on so much..“ his voice became more desperate. „Why won‘t you let me take care of you, mh? You can take care of your Papa after that?“ he suggested.

Your eyes found his mismatched ones. „Do you…“ you looked away shyly.. „Do you want to make me moan Papa?“ Your gaze coming back to his own. „Do you want me to moan for you? Do you want me to scream out your name?“ You rubbed your leg against the bulge between his legs, acting all innocent and cute for him.

He quivered under your touch, breathing in again. „Yess.. I.. I want to make you moan and scream. I want you to call for me as you come undone for me.“ he wrapped his loose arm around, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back, while the other continued kneading your ass. „I.. I want this, I want us.. I want you…Please��“ he pleaded breathlessly, in his eyes now a mixture between vulnerability and desire. An odd combination for someone as cocky and overconfident as he was.

You distanced yourself from him, laughing out loud, head rolling back. „Now look who is at my mercy now.“ Terzo whimpered at the loss and stared at you with big puppy dog eyes.

„Now you got a taste of your own medicine Papa. I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted. It will never happen again.“ you exclaimed proudly, smiling down at him. Terzo stood there dumbfounded, back still leaning against the wall, slightly slouched down. It was a sight to behold. You could tell he was lost. Lost for words and certainly lost for what to do now. Not even a frown was forming on his features.

„Now if you‘ll excuse me. I have work to finish. Have a good day Papa.“ as you started to walk away you suddenly remembered something and turned around. „Oh and uh should I send Sister Emma over? You know she might help you with your uh.. condition.“ you gestured to the very visible tent in his pants, winking.

[charsoamerican]

OK so I made a Taylor Swift, the inheritance games playlist

The Way I Loved You - giving tfg when Avery was mad over jameson being over protective

I Can See You - such a hot song but also describing averyxjameson relationship perfectly

Bigger Than The Whole Sky - describes Avery and Toby’s relationship so well and just them especially the lyrics “You were more then just a short time” and “Everything to come has turned to ashes” so yeah

Sparks Fly - totally avery talking about Jameson like “you’re the kind of reckless that should send me running” and “get me with those green eyes baby as the lights go down, give me something that will haunt me when you’re not around” and “my mind forgets to remind me that you’re a bad idea” LIKE

Mine - fr just the lyric “you made a rebel of a careless man’s careful daughter” think about that is literally perfect

Long Story Short - it’s so perfect and also this song can literally be a summary of the romance in the whole series but anyway THESE lyrics; “no more keeping score, now I just keep you warm” and “if the shoe fits walk in it til your high heels break” fits Avery perfectly, she was literally broke and turned into the worlds richest teenager overnight, like she obvi didn’t know everything immediately

Evermore - it’s like sad but stillllll “in the cracks of light I dreamed of you” because when she was in a coma the first thing she heard was Jamies voice and then “it was real enough to get me through” because they never really called it love in thl but it was there (omg that was so cringy forget I said that)

Call It What You Want - literally this whole song is just perfect for them every lyric is perfect but what stood out to me was “you don’t need to save me, but would you run away with me?” Because she didn’t need Jameson to protect her by preventing her from doing things, but she still wanted to do it with him instead

Fearless - idk but there is just something so fitting with the name of this song like jameson literally took her hand and drove her head first fearless “you’re just so cool, run your hands through your hair” also *reminder* Jameson is cool, but on serious note, “I don’t why but with you I’d dance in a storm in my best dress, fearless” bc yes

Mastermind - them. they literally are masterminds. “And the first night that you saw me I knew I wanted your body” also this line “you see, all the wisest women had to do it this way, because we were born to be the pawn of every lovers game” works with how she felt like Jameson just thought of her as part of the game and not a human with feeling in tig

Wildest Dreams - I just feel like they would literally do anything for eachother and this is totally not on this playlist because of the “he’s so tall and handsome as hell” line and it’s also definitely not about Jameson 😳

Lavender Haze - the lyrics are just so perfect like “I’ve been under scrutiny, you handle it beautifully” and “I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say” AND “They’re bringing up my history, but you weren’t even listening” THESE LYRICS OH MY

Midnight Rain (“he was sunshine I was midnight rain” because Jameson is literally golden retriever on the inside and Avery is very chill and yeah this is just me fantasizing soo)

Wonderland (this song literally IS jameson and Avery. Get ready for me to basically quote the whole song “Didn’t they tell us don’t rush into things? Didn’t you flash your green eyes at me? Haven’t you heard what becomes of curious minds?” LIKE WHAT? I’m convinced jlb wrote this romance based off of this song and also “didn’t you calm my fears with a Cheshire Cat smile?” His smile is literally described as “a Cheshire Cat smile” in the first book before Avery starts calling it devastating. “We found wonderland, you and I got lost in it, life was never worse, but never better”

Anti-Hero - literally should be jamies theme song. People always are like “Grayson is so depressed he deserves better” but what about Jameson?? Like he literally blames himself for Emily’s death and basically sh when jumping off the cliff. He always compares himself to Grayson. Like the lyrics “pierced through the heart but never killed” he literally is almost if not just as much broken as Grayson is but he’s just better at hiding it and covering it up with a smile, but I do think Grayson needs therapy desperately like jlb please help him

You’re on your own kid - This song fits Avery soo well like after her mom died no one really could take care of her, I mean I know Libby did, and I love Libby, but it was just different? And also when she inherited the billions of dollars everyone hated her pretty much so yeah. I think the lyric “Everything you lose is a step you take” it just is Avery

Paris (it just relates to Avery and Jameson sm, like the lyric “I’m so in love i might stop breathing, drew a map on your bedroom ceiling” Avery made a point about how they want to go places together. “Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours”

Other ones that I’m too lazy to explain

Style

Vigilante Sh*t

Forever Winter

I Did Something Bad

Don’t Blame Me

Paper Rings (I’m a big xandermax and nashlibby stan)

London Boy

Getaway Car

Miss Americana and the heartbreak prince

Blank Space

[rossellini-tyrell]

Nothing’s Gonna Change My World

Ch. 2 - Limitless Undying Love (shines around me like a million suns)

Chapter 1  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Word Count: 4,339

Warnings: Attemped SA/kidnapping, Reader’s trauma from that event, a minor character dies of cancer

Pairing: Pavitr x F!Reader also found on AO3 and Wattpad. tagging @aiko-oba ---------- Preface: This story takes place several years after the events of Across the Spiderverse, Pavitr and the reader are somewhere in their 20s at this point in time. This story involves a reader who survives an attempted SA, there will be brief description of the rescue from the event, and extensive discussion of the emotional impact of the event on the reader. There will be no graphic descriptions of the event itself. The contents of this story may be triggering for some to read, for that reason. ------------ The nightmares start on the second night. Pavitr's sense yanks him out of a dead sleep by clawing across his face, the acidic sting raising the downy hairs on the nape of his neck. "I said NO! I don't w-wanna go with you, let GO of me!" Oh no. Pavitr tunes his ear to the upstairs apartment. There's no signs of footsteps, no tip-offs of a struggle. Only the gentle groans of a wood bedframe, the frum-frum of bedsheets rustling, thrashing limbs. Exasperated, he flops back onto the pillows with a sigh and gives his temples a good rub, catching the neon glint of his watch that read 03:17. He figured there's nothing that can be done until- "help help h-h-HELP me help me" His head feels crispy and cold, full of TV static so itchy and sharp, like ice shards thawing. The vague voice of his sense says listen listen listen and he does but he can't- "spiderman help ME help m-me help spiderman help me help spiderman please no" The shards go crack, crack, crack from all of the pain and it hurts hurts hurts him in his chest. You're hurting and the hurt is dribbling onto him drip, drip, drip through the floorboards. Pavitr hurts too, he wants to tear out his hair, and he wants to do nothing more but follow your voice through your window and help you, but he can't and the pain keeps drip-drip-dripping and- "spiderman PLEASE!" The sandal collides with the ceiling, leaves a footprint in the sheet rock that Pavitr knows will come out of his security deposit. He catches his breath, feels his pulse slow against his sweaty palm. He casts his hearing out once more, and hears only labored breathing. The drip slows, and you rouse, your sock feet sinking into the carpet. He tracks your steps across his ceiling, towards what must be your bathroom, and listens for the hiss of the tap. Technically he helped, right? Pavitr stifles a snort, and calls it a win in his book. He's fucking Spiderman, he always wins. He rolls over onto his stomach, taking his pillow with him. Hopefully, tomorrow is a better night. ---- Tomorrow was not a better night. Nor was the next one, the night after, or any of the other nights that followed. It was the same damn show every night - you have nightmare, you scream, Pavitr wakes up, Pavitr either finds a way to wake you up or waits it out, Pavitr feels like shit at work the next morning, which is a problem because then he has to try, and he hates trying. After the seventh day in a row, Pavitr resolves to engage in a little neighborly intervention. He pops down to the shops and lets his conscience be his guide. After 2 hours of meandering, he lands on a tin of Valerian root tea, two cozy-looking pairs of fuzzy socks (they make them with moisturizer now, apparently?), and almost grabs an admittedly adorable stuffed dog in a Spider-man costume, but decides it's a bit too on the nose, and instead selects one with a bandana next to it. Pavitr writes out what he hopes is a nice, supportive note that doesn't tip you off to who wrote it, and leaves all of this at your front door. He raises his hand to knock, and considers if he should introduce himself, but sadly concludes it's better that you don't meet him as Pavitr. You come home from work to find a conspicuously placed package hanging from your doorknob. You warily bring the plastic bag inside and open the unaddressed envelope, finding a handwritten note in bold, loopy script inside that reads: "Hey there neighbor, It sounds like you're going through a tough time right now. Don't worry, I'm not one to judge, I'm not mad, but I can tell whatever it is that's giving you such awful nightmares must be making you very stressed. Let's be clear, I'm not doing this to be passive-aggressive. That wouldn't help anything. But I do want you to know that whatever it is that's messing with your sleep, you're not alone. No one is alone, and people like you, dammit. I leave you with these in hopes that they help you find better dreams. And know that whatever it is you're fighting, we're rooting for you." You don't know what to think. Whether to be embarrassed your neighbors heard your screaming, worried that you were disturbing their sleep, scared that they really were mad, or grateful for their understanding. Your cheeks burn, and you douse them in the soft fur of the stuffed dog. That was a pretty nice touch. ----

Pavitr doesn't always dream of Spider-Man. When he does, it's usually mindless swinging, mental rehearsal of web tricks and acrobatics. A few physically impossible yo-yo tricks in mid-air with his bangles to change things up. Once in a blue moon, he gets a bad one. The kind where he's visited by a girl with helix pierces and kajal-lined eyes, eyes that shut forever. Tonight they're on the rooftop, that rooftop over by the club, and she's wearing a party dress that he knows he's seen before. She's crying, the kajal smearing into an inky mess on her lower lids. He reaches out to comfort her, wraps his tongue around her name the way he used to in the waking world, but she wheels around on her stilletto and wails- "please please spiderman no please don't go don't go don't leave me here" Immediately, Pavitr feels the icy creep of his sense along his jawline. That's not her voice. That's not her dress, either. Her tears are stained black, they are falling from her cut cheekbones with a drip, drip, drip, and she begs- "spiderman help help please don't leave don't go help me help don't leave me with him" His sense grabs, tugs, pulls him into the waking world. He's alone in his apartment again, alone with the baleful protests coming from the upstairs unit. Pavitr could cope with his neighbor's nightmares. But nightmares about him? With that, he could not abide. "Ah, fuck it." he declares, and hoists himself from bed to find his suit. Within seconds, he's cleaned up his flyaways, pulled up his mask, and is scaling your building to your living room window. Hesitantly, he raps on the pane, hoping the other neighbors don't hear. The pained screaming comes to an abrupt stop, and he does a little victory dance in his head. "(You)?" Pavitr whisper-shouts, one hand cupped over the glass. He hears, feels you gasp, head snapping to and fro looking for the sound, and he winces because he knows he's frightened you even more. "(You), you're okay, you're not in danger. Come to your window," he instructs. After a few seconds, he hears the squeak of the floorboards as you come over to draw back your curtains. There you are, gobsmacked and wide-eyed, looking sleepy-soft in your fluffy bathrobe. Pavitr gives a little wave and pantomimes opening the window, a request that you quickly grant. "May I come in?" he asks. "Spider-Man, what are you doing here? It's five forty-five in the morning?" you blearily inquire, exhaustion plainly evident in the puffiness of the space below your eyes. Beneath that, Pavitr detects relief in your features. "I was at my friend's place, I heard the shouting, I came over to check it out because I'm Spider-Man, that's my job, and it looks like you could use a friend right now. Please let me in?" he finishes with a cock of his head. You sigh and step aside, and he slips through the window frame, shutting the window gently behind him. His heart warms seeing the fuzzy socks from earlier on your feet. You end up on the couch, knees tucked against your chest. "I wish I could tell you I was doing well," you begin. "Clearly, I'm not. My neighbors are starting to call me out on it, too." "How long have the nightmares been going on?" Pavitr gently asks, even though he knows the answer. "Every night since...that," you confirm. "Don't get me wrong, I've tried everything I can think of. Guided relaxation, face masks, my neighbor even gave me this tea that's supposed to help with sleeping. Nothing's working. I'm falling behind at work now because I can't stop looking for him around every corner," The last sentence is particularly telling for Pavitr, as it's public knowledge that the creep who instigated all this is currently in jail, being held without bail until trial. "Trauma's not quite that simple, I'm afraid," he commiserates. "Personally, I found it helpful to talk to someone about it." "I'd imagine you've probably seen some shit that stayed with you," you agree. "It was...after my girlfriend passed away a few years ago," admits Pavitr, finding it difficult to maintain eye contact. "Oh...I'm so sorry to hear that," you offer. You're not quite sure what to do with that information. "Nah, it's alright," he waves it off. "As much as I like to think otherwise, I hit a point where I realized I needed help. So I got it. Talking to someone about it helped me get past the guilt I was feeling, and I've made my peace with what happened. Here and there I have some tough days, but therapy was really helpful in letting me move forward." "I'm just trying to wrap my head around the idea of Spider-Man of all people going to therapy," you think out loud, an outlandish image coming to mind of a superhero laid out on a couch, spouting feelings to no one in particular. "Really, it wasn't any different than any other grieving widow going," explains Pavitr. "I didn't have to bring being Spider-Man into it at all. I just had to be me, and be honestly me. It wasn't easy, 'yanno, but I'm very glad I did." "I guess I'll have to set something up then," you acquiesce. "I just feel like I should be better by now. Nothing actually happened. I'm just being a huge wimp about it-" "Uh-uh, don't start that shit with me," Pavitr interrupts. "Everyone needs help at some point in life, including me, as much as I like to pretend I don't." You watch as his hand clasps your knee, the skin buzzing where he touches. It's intimate, it should be uncomfortable, but you find it's simply not so. "You are strong. I know you might not believe that right now, but you are. Strong people are allowed to have feelings, bad days, bad nights," his hand squeezes, and you look up to see hints of rich brown irides trained on you through pale gossamer lenses. "None of that changes anything. No one is alone. Heck, when you let people in, you're stronger for it." You sigh, defeated. "You're right. I'm running out of people to lean on though. I had gone to the club with some friends that night, and for the most part, they've been...shitty about it." "Then lean on me," Pavitr declares, causing you to lift your head in surprise. "I know, it sounds ridiculous to suggest that. It probably is. But for now, let me bring you some peace, if you'll let me," and then he's standing, offering you his hand. A hand which you warily take and allow to pull you from the couch. "Where are you taking me?" you wonder, noticing that he's leading you to the window he came in through. Through his mask, you think you catch a fleeting sparkle of mirth in his eyes. "Do you trust me?" he asks, stepping out onto your fire escape. You answer that question by giving yourself over, letting him help you step onto the metal walkway outside. Pavitr's arm rounds your waist, and you're floating, slowly, up, up, up, like a lazy bubble of soap . You find your footing on the ledge of the rooftop, where he's holding your hands so you don't fall (you know he'd catch you). He guides your shoulders to orient you facing east, and carefully eases you into sitting. "(You), look up," he murmurs. You follow his pointing finger, and oh your tired heart smiles. It's sunrise now, the cityscape dusky purple against a noon chai sky, warm and milk-sweet. The sun is just cresting the horizon now, a tiny strip of bright, the light that you wish you could reach out and touch, pour it into a jar and tuck underneath your pillow to ward the nightmares away. The morning air is thick with marine layer, wet and cool on your tongue. You turn to look at your companion, and for the first time, you can really make out the detailing on his mask. Lenses outlined cerulean, black, and white, with stripes on his jawline like an elephant's tusks. Thick, well-kept black hair that shines in the orange dawn. bright, bright, bright "I've never been up here...it's beautiful, thank you for showing me this," you tell him. "You're very welcome," acknowledges Pavitr. "This is one of the ways I find peace when my head feels full. It's nice like this, to find the quiet when the world wakes." You don't miss the way his fingertips brush yours against the concrete ledge you're sitting on. Yes, it's nice like this, to welcome the new dawn, letting the sun's warmth seep into your bones. It's nice like this to watch with him. He floats you down to your fire escape later, after the first horns of the ever-present traffic echo off the buildings. Helps you back into your apartment window, like a true gentleman. Waves farewell, and promises he'll see you around. Now he's crawling back up to the rooftop, about to swing away and melt into the skyline, and your heart speaks for you, calls out: "Wait!" He ducks his head down from where he's perched on his web, wavy hair streaming below him. That's the moment when you take his face in hand, flip his mask down just so, and brush a kiss onto Pavitr's surprised mouth. It's soft, like a butterfly landing on a primrose petal, but it's deliciously hot, the warmth unfurling like a young fiddlehead frond, shivers traversing from your ears to your toes. Pavitr freezes, but his sense is singing in a way it hasn't for years. Just as quickly as it started, it finishes, and you flip his mask back up and tell him "Thank you." Your curtains are drawn, your window snaps shut, and Pavitr is literally left hanging, unable to do anything more then bring one hand to his lips where they still tingle. ---- It's a carton of fried chicken that ruins everything. "Yes, I'd like an explanation as to why my food hasn't arrived after 90 minutes? I was told to expect delivery within an hour," says Pavitr into his cell phone. He's in his building's lobby pacing up a storm, he's hungry and there's a cricket test on he's missing. "Sir, your driver appears to be experiencing some heavy traffic. It will be another 10 minutes, we apologize for any inconvenience this causes," is the reply of the dispatcher. "Heavy traffic? There's always heavy traffic, bro!" he hollers into the receiver. "Why is it now a problem today, and not any of the other days I've ordered from here?" "Sir, we do apologize, we're doing everything we can to get your order there, but is there any way I can interest you in a discount coupon for a future order?" the dispatcher appeases. Pavitr groans internally. "Fine, I'll take your coupon and go away." He doesn't notice the clicking of heels on the tile behind him. He doesn't hear the jingle of a keyring, the clunk of a lock, the grating whine of a mailbox hinge that desperately needs some WD-40. "Name on the order?" "Pavitr Prabhakar" The mailbox's owner pricks up their ears as they close the box, their mail in hand. "It looks like we have your building address, what unit are you in?" "Apartment 406" There's a gasp behind him, the keys hit the floor with a sharp shlink, the mail goes in a haphazard pile next to them. Pavitr turns on his heel to assess the damage, and nearly drops his phone himself when he sees you there. You, who has clearly put two and two together. You know his voice anywhere, and the mop of wavy black hair is unmistakably his, the build matches up just so. You, who lives in the apartment one floor up from Apartment 406. You, who kissed him yesterday morning and ran away. "(You), I can- I can explain-" he attempts, his throat full of nails and glass, his heart skipping between time signatures. There's nothing he can do but watch with feet cemented to the spot as you hurriedly gather up your things from the floor, looking like you're about to cry, and make a mad dash to the stairwell.It's cold comfort when the delivery man arrives eight minutes ahead of schedule. ---- "I think I'm ready," announces Pavitr, to no one in particular from an outsider's perspective. Pavitr knows otherwise. He's got his nicest henley on, he's fixed his hair for the umpteenth time, and he's at your front door, again. He swallows down his nerves before he goes for it this time, and knocks one, two three times. Time stops when you open the door, and he gets a chance to take in your state. Your eyes are puffy, the whites of them pink and raw from obvious crying. The exhaustion in your countenance is even moreso than before, he thinks a gentle breath might cause you to crumble into dust in the wind. Moreover, he sees the fear, the shame and embarrassment hiding beneath. He hates knowing he did that with his lies and half-truths. "May I come in?" Pavitr gently asks, voice soft, an apology unspoken on his lips. "I...sure," you give in, and stand aside to let him pass. In minutes, you're both at the kitchen table, mugs of the Valerian root tea in hand. It gives some small part of him relief to know you're getting some comfort from it. "I'm sorry I kissed you without asking," you start off, outright refusing to make eye contact, lest you start catching any more feelings. Pavitr sets his mug down, sets his hand palm up on the table as a gesture of peace. "I'm not," he replies simply. The answer causes you to whip your head around, the most incredulous expression painted on your features. Pavitr's face is nonplussed across from you. "How can you possibly be okay with that?" you ask in disbelief. "You were just trying to be nice to me, because it's your job to be, and I just- I went in and- you know..." you gesticulate a bit, searching for the words, as if you could pluck them from the heavy air and pop them on your tongue. "Felt the tension building between us, correctly picked up on some of my own signals, and then allowed yourself to be confident and make your move," Pavitr finishes your thought for you. "There's no denying I was flirting, and I don't think you have anything to be sorry for. I think you should be proud of yourself, if anything. Giving Spider-Man the upside-down kiss without him expecting it is a pretty slick move, 'yanno?" he quirks an eyebrow, trying to lighten the mood. "But we're neighbors," you stress to him. "You and whoever else has had to listen to me screaming in my sleep for the past week. We have to deal with each other whether we like it or not. I ran away because I didn't want to make things awkward for you," you explain. "You're not making anything awkward, (You)," Pavitr assures. "I think I'm the one who needs to apologize here. I lied to you, flirted, and lied some more, I'm a little surprised you're embarrassed and not angry with me." "You only did all that because you have to," you counter. "I only did all that because I like you, (You)," he admits, allowing his hand to fold over yours on the table. The skin of his palms is soft and warm, and makes your hair stand on end to feel. The smile he gives you is warmer, brighter, like you knew it'd be under that mask. "Talking with you, showing you the sunrise, getting you the stuffed dog-" "That was you?" you interrupt. "Yes, all me, but anyways-" he sighs. "You're right, in some ways. I can't be responsible for everything and everyone. I thought I could be, once. And then..." he trails off. "And then...?" you prod, gently urging him to continue. Pavitr takes a deep breath, from the belly. "And then...I lost Gayatri," he breathes, the statement no more than a whisper on the breeze. "That's your girlfriend?" you clarify. "She was, yes," he affirms. "She had leukemia. Tried every doctor she could get to, but there was nothing anyone could do for her, not in this universe, nor any other," he allows himself to reminisce. "She died three years ago. Gayatri fought and fought but she was so tired. I held her at the end, kissed her anywhere I could reach and told her she could go, that she'd earned rest." He pauses, feeling the frog crawling in his throat. "Gayatri fell asleep on my chest and never woke up. And for a long time, I blamed myself for that," he finishes, voice wavering as the shine of unshed tears forms in his eyes. "I'm...I'm so sorry that you went through that, that's terrible," you respond, not knowing where to begin. "It sounds like you were a wonderful boyfriend to her, and that she left this world knowing she was so loved. I truly don't know how anyone could have possibly done better." "And that's exactly the point. I couldn't have saved her. There was no universe where I could have, nor anyone else, for that matter," Pavitr says, pausing to dab at the moisture on his eyelids. "I carried around that guilt, that shame because I felt like I was the hero, that I had to save her. With some hard work, I was able to put that down, and acknowledge that it happened, that I did all the right things and that was okay. I may have superpowers, but I'm still a human with limits, and feeling obligated to do anything won't get anywhere productive. I'm imperfect and I'm okay with that now." "So...if you didn't do what you did out of obligation...why did you?" you ask. Pavitr sniffs, smiling fondly. "Well, if you have to ask, at first I just didn't want you to pass out. But then you calmed down and I got you to laugh and smile a little, and I realized that for the first time in a few years, I wanted you to keep smiling and never stop, I couldn't stand letting you cry or have bad dreams," he takes your other hand now, brings them between you just like he did on the roof, after the third or fourth time he called you darling. "In short, you stole my heart. Please be gentle with it, I've always been a bit of a softie," he confesses, calf brown eyes sparkling with gentle affection, enough to tempt you to melt into a puddle on the spot. "I..." you splutter, brain short circuiting as you try to process Spider-Man confessing his crush on you in your kitchen. "Would it help if I told you that I spent all of yesterday thinking of reasons I could come back to kiss you myself?" Pavitr smugly asked, knowing very well what he was doing. "I think you helped me a little too well yesterday, because I have to be sleeping, still. There's no way Spider-Man is confessing to me right now in real life," you protest, brain still refusing to compute. "He's not. But I am, he replies, coming around the table to kneel beside you. "My name is Pavitr. Pavitr Prabhakar, your downstairs neighbor in Apartment 406, who is very proud of you, thinks highly of you, and happens to also be very fond of you. And if you'll let me..." he strums his thumbs along the back of your joined hands, and gives a gentle tug, cuing you to stand up with him. "I'll be careful with your heart from now on, if you promise to be careful of mine?" he proposes, anxiously awaiting your answer (although he'd die denying the anxious part). "There's...no way you want that..." you stammer out, still trapped in denial. Your face is burning at this point, palms sweating in Pavitr's hold. "You're Spider-Man, dammit, there's no way in hell you would want to be with a crybaby like mph-" He doesn't let you finish, because he's just pressed two fingers against your lips, and cradled your jaw with his other hand. "Don't you dare finish that sentence, darling," he purrs. He removes his fingers and immediately melts a kiss onto your surprised mouth. It's slow, unhurried, warm. Pavitr takes your face in both hands and holds you there, until your walls crumble and you relax into him. You part, happy tears tracking down your cheeks, which he quickly wipes away with  the pads of his thumbs. He knows you don't believe he'd want you, so he chases your lips and shows you how much he does. He kisses you like the way he honeys his words, milk-sweet like noon chai, like a sunrise- bright, bright, bright ---- (You fall asleep on his shoulder after a night of laughing so hard your tea comes out of your nose.) (You vaguely remember him carrying you from the couch to your bed, tucking you snugly under the covers, and pressing a long kiss to your forehead.) (You don't remember him sitting beside you, petting your head for a good half-hour to be sure you've fallen into a deep sleep, but you wake up alone the next morning, feeling refreshed after dreaming only the sweetest dreams.)