#if you told 13 year old me this would happen i would laugh in your face

[thedeathlysallows]

Is It Over Now? (13)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon; Aegon Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon

Summary: My hand was the one you reached for

Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest. Stockholm Syndrome, infidelity, manipulative Aegon, discussion of character death. Smut, fingering, using murder as dirty talk, hand job, public sex.

Aemma's coin has finally flipped, but where will it land? Greatness or madness?

Tag list: @callsignwidow

You aren't sure how or when it happened, but it's as though something inside you snapped, slowly but surely shifted your love and loyalty from your mother to Aegon. All your plans, all the playing pretend melted away until it became your reality. When did that happen? When did you become so pathetic? Was it the abject horror of seeing Aemond loving another woman in Harrenhal? Or were you always this weak?

"You seem deep in thought." Aegon looks down at you, head tilted slightly so that the rubies of the Conqueror's crown glitter in the sunlight.

"I suppose," you respond dully.

He hums in annoyance before looking away abruptly. You aren't sure why he insists on walking with you through the gardens, but it was the one reprieve he allowed after your escape. You're kept under a smothering watch at all times now except for when Aegon fetches you for your daily walk. He never lets you go with guards. It has to be him, and you just don't understand it.

Annoyance rises in you, bitter and dark. "I don't understand!"

"What don't you understand?"

Lots of things. You don't understand lots of things, but you don't want to discuss the complicated relationship between the two of you, so you say, "You told Aemond to seduce the witch. Why? Why would you do that?"

Aegon tosses his head back and laughs. "Is that what the bastard told you? And he says I'm the degenerate one."

"Aegon, this isn't the time for jokes. I want the truth." You turn to him fully and he's struck suddenly by the fire in your eyes. It's been so long since he's seen it he thought you'd given up your spark completely.

But of course not.

Of course your fire is still there because his is still there.

Aegon still burns every second of every day for you. The two of you are the last flickering twin flames of Old Valeyria, meant to merge together and raze down everything standing in its way. He loves you, desires you, needs you more than Aemond possibly could.

"You want the truth, my little dragon?" He steps closer to you, following as you move away from him. "I'll give you the truth, but I want you to remember that it was I to do so... not Aemond."

You suck in a deep breath, overwhelmed by Aegon's presence crowding you against a tree. Rough bark bites into your exposed back and arms. Suddenly, the gauzy dress you chose this morning doesn't feel like it covers enough.

"Aemond would never lie to me," you eventually say.

"I see. Is that why he blamed me? All I told him was to keep the witch loyal to us. I don't give a single fuck about her happiness or comfort... but Aemond does, doesn't he?" Aegon traces his thumb across your bottom lip before continuing.

"Let me guess: he told you not to worry and that she could never compare. I've told Helaena the same about my whores. I suppose, in a round about way, it's the truth. She's kinder than them, more of a proper lady. She deserves better."

You want to strike out at Aegon, your palm itches for it, but you stay still. He pets you so gently, running his hands over your body in a comforting way that brings tears to your eyes. You want to ask him why he doesn't give her better if she deserves it, but you already know the answer.

You.

Aegon has spent years pining over you, spiraling when you were taken away like some sort of toy. He's a spoiled brat. You love him anyway... but you love Aemond as well.

"Is love enough?" Your voice comes out as barely a whisper.

"Enough for what?"

"Anything." For Aemond to be loyal, but you don't say it out loud.

Aegon knows what you want to say, but won't say. He knows you better than anyone. Maybe even better than you know yourself. "Love is enough for us if you'll allow it."

Your lips curl up in a wry smile. "You're being awfully sweet today, Your Majesty."

"Maybe it's because I see where my brother is failing and I decided I need to take this chance."

"Failing on your orders."

"Not my orders. I never told him to fuck her, but we both know that's what he's doing." Aegon presses his lips to yours, hot and persistent. "Don't you want revenge, little dragon?"

Yes.

Yes, you do want revenge.

You want blood and revenge and for this foreign anger inside you to end.

Aegon's lips trail from your lips to the column of your neck, teeth sinking into your skin every so often while his hands grip your waist. He grinds into you and you feel the delicious drag of his hard cock between your thighs. "I have plenty of information from the witch. So much that her life means nothing to me now. You could kill her if you wanted."

Kill her?

"H-have you ever killed anyone?" The idea makes you nervous, but it's hard to concentrate on those nerves when Aegon's hands are slowly bunching your dress around your waist.

"Yes. Would you like to hear about it?" He nips at your ear, chuckling darkly when you yelp. Two of his fingers circle your clit before dipping into your cunt and he moans when he finds you absolutely soaking wet.

You nod, letting out a little whimper. "Yes... please..."

"Mmm, good girl." Aegon pumps his fingers in and out of you at a punishing pace. "It's better than any drunken high, any fuck... it's... ah, fuck, yes..."

Aegon's head falls to your shoulder when your hand slips inside his trousers to stroke his length. You wrap a leg around his waist, silently begging him to go deeper.

"Oh, fuck," he breathes against your skin. "Such a good little whore for me. D'you like this? Like me fucking you in public?"

You do. You really, really do.

"Say it," he demands, wrapping a hand around your throat. "Say how much you like it."

"Aegon... please... I love it."

"Say you love me."

You nod. "I love you!"

Aegon's grin is almost terrifying when he says, "I want to watch you kill Alys Rivers."

The pleasure that had been building in the pit of your stomach crests and washes over the rest of you, leaving you to spasm around Aegon's thick fingers. He kisses you all over as he reaches his own orgasm, spilling into your hand.

"Good girl," Aegon whispers into your hair. "Fuck, you're so good for me. We need to remind Aemond how good you are, yeah?"

That's all you really want, you think to yourself. You just want to be good for the people who love you. That's all you ever wanted.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you

[explodingstarlight]

the emo trinity is alive, well, and prospering in 2023

#what if i said i have been listening to FOB's new single on repeat since yesterday #immaculate music to draw to ngl #speaking of: remaining asks i PROMISE i see you omg #ANYWAY god bless and amen i can't believe early 2000's emo is alive and thriving rn #if you told 13 year old me this would happen i would laugh in your face #and they're all TOURING (or have been touring recently) #*takes a short break from turtle posting to cry over new music from bands i've been listening to for 10+ years* how true and autistic of me #mcr #paramore #fall out boy #we don't speak of Him here; their glory days are long dead #ifykyk #emo memes #idc if that's not the proper genre name im still using it and no one can stop me #foundations of decay #this is why #love on the other side #<- the titles of the singles/EP btw in case you haven't heard them yet

[augustinewrites]

augustine!!! forgive me if this is alr something u wrote in kuwtf but!! i just had a thought come to me !!! did megumi (when he was younger) ever message/text/call reader (or gojo… but i doubt 😭😭) to come and pick him up in the middle of smth he’s rlly not enjoying? like !! him being all hesitant and shy abt it !!! but he’s like “can you pick me up… please” or “… i want to go home” 🥺🥺🥺

“okay, while the kids are with you, you’re the new me. strict, but fair. fun, but still careful—”

“ugh, that sounds so boring,” shoko groans. “i prefer being the cool aunt who looks like she could be their sister.”

“uh oh, it sounds like someone’s already raided our liquor cabinet,” gojo teases, sauntering into the kitchen to steal some of the snacks you’re laying out. “maybe we should have nanami babysit shoko babysitting our kids.”

you bat his hands away, rolling your eyes as he pouts. “that’s not necessary, i believe in her.”

“so…you’re saying i didn’t hear you call nanami first?”

“go get changed,” you mutter, ignoring his question and shoving him back towards the bedroom. he goes, but not without placing a big wet kiss on your cheek first.

megumi, who’d been coming in to find a snack, makes an affronted noise.

shoko throws her arm around him, ruffling his hair. “don’t worry about us! i got your very lengthy text message with all the instructions,” she assures you, waving her phone in front of you. “in bed by nine at the latest, no watching sex and the city, and no ending up in the hospital, prison, or the news.”

“yes. by the way, i ordered some pizza for dinner and  left some money so you can take them out for breakfast tomorrow, but please please keep an eye on megumi,” you remind her, swiping the crumbs off your hands and leaning your hip against the counter. “he likes to wander and has a problem with authority.”

“i don’t have a problem with authority,” the boy huffs, ducking out from under shoko’s arm. 

“ohhhh, but you do,” gojo chimes in, coming out of the bedroom dressed up in a nice shirt and tie. you slip your arm through his when he offers, letting him lead you toward the door. 

“have fun!” you call as satoru kneels to help you slip your heels on. 

“not as much fun as you guys will!” shoko calls back. it’s followed by, “say, megumi, have you ever smoked a cigarette before?” 

“ieiri!”

“kidding! you’re so gullible.” 

_____

“a hotel room with one bed!” you gasp, in awe of the king-sized bed sitting in the center of the room. you seat yourself atop of the luxurious sheets, the silk smooth under your palms. “i forgot what this was like!”

gojo sets both your bags down, smiling. “do you want to order some room service? we could order a nice bottle of champagne, eat some dessert—”

you hum, uncrossing your legs slowly. “i can think of something else you can eat…”

you reach up to grab his tie and tug him closer—

—only for it to come off entirely. 

“a clip on tie, satoru? really?” 

his cheeks blush a cute, rosy pink. “they’re really hard to tie if you’re not around to help me!”

you toss it to the side, laughing as he pulls you into his arms, aggressively planting kisses all over your face. he walks you back until you both fall onto the bed, his fingers crawling up the hem of your shirt.

“wait, is that my phone vibrating?”

_____

“what if she’s the one, tsumiki?” you hear shoko sigh, exasperated. 

“like your one true love?”

“yeah! what’s happening to me? i don’t even believe in that stuff.”

you and gojo exchange an amused look. no wonder megumi had texted. 

“have you told utahime any of this?” your wise-beyond-her-years 13 year old asks.

“what? why would i do that?”

“if you don’t tell her how you feel, you’ll both regret it for the rest of your life!”

“utahime and shoko?” gojo whispers. “since when?”

you roll your eyes, swatting at his chest. “since always! you seriously never noticed? she had the biggest crush on her when we were in school.”

“i think i was just too busy looking at you.” 

you can’t help the way you smile at that, your heart a butterfly beat in your chest  “you need to stop, because we’re here to save megumi and if you keep sweet talking me…”

he tucks himself snugly against your back, setting his chin into the crook of your neck. “i’m more of a hands-on learner, so maybe if you show me what’ll happen—”

“finally,” megumi sighs, relieved. 

“whoa,” gojo stops him, tugging on the handle of the backpack over megumi’s shoulder’s. “what’s this for?”

_____

the backpack was for exactly what gojo feared. megumi sleeps soundly between you both in that gorgeous king-sized bed. 

“is this what the rest of our lives are gonna look like?” he asks, fingertips brushing your forehead.

“better get used to abstinence, pal.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #keeping up with the fushigojos #[💌—inbox]

[waitimcomingtoo]

Hot N Cold

Pairing: Tom Holland x Actress!Reader

Synopsis: you and Tom can’t stop teasing each other in interviews

Masterlist

“You three have spent a lot of time together making this movie. And you all seem to get along so great. Is it going to be hard to go back to making movies when you aren’t working with your best friends?” A journalist asked you, Tom, and Jacob one day on the press tour for your upcoming movie.

“No. I can’t wait for that.” Jacob answered. “I hate working with these two. They’re always arguing.”

“What? No we are not.” You insisted.

“We kinda are.” Tom said out of the corner of his mouth.

“No we are not. Why do you always have to disagree with me?” You asked and playfully smacked Tom’s arm.

“That’s a good point. You’re right. I do always disagree with you.” Tom said sincerely. “But maybe it’s because you’re always wrong?”

“You wish.” You scoffed. “Name one time I was wrong.”

“Yesterday, when you drove on the wrong side of the road.” He said immediately.

“That couldn’t happened to anyone, okay? It was not clearly marked.”

“It was clearly marked but you flew past the several giant “wrong way” signs because you’re a speed demon on the road.”

“That’s sexist.” You pointed at him. “You’re saying all women are bad drivers?”

“No. I’m saying this woman is a bad driver.” Tom said and pointed back at you. “You really don’t help the stereotype, darling.”

“Whatever. Fake news.” You rolled your eyes. “Ask us the next question please before I kill him.”

“All righty then. So, you’re all a few years out of high school now. How did you prepare for getting back into the mindset of a teenager?” The journalist asked.

“It was a really fun process actually. The director wanted to emulate a kinda 80s high school movie feel so he asked us to watch a few old movies so we could get the vibe he was going for. Like Breakfast Club, Back to the Future, stuff like that.” You explained.

“Yeah. We watched a few of them together.” Tom smiled as he looked over at you.

“Yeah, we did.” You smiled back at him.

“On your little movie dates in Tom’s trailer. That I was never invited to.” Jacob added. Tom blushed and looked down at his lap while you playfully rolled your eyes.

“They weren’t dates.” Tom insisted. “We were just watching the films we were told to watch.”

“You didn’t think those were dates?” You asked him, sounding hurt. Tom went bright red and scrambled to come up with something to say to explain himself.

“What?” Tom gulped. “No. I mean, I never thought of it like that but-“

“I’m messing with you.” You cut him off when you saw how flustered he got.

“Oh. You scared me so much just then. I didn’t know what to say.” He laughed and touched a cold hand to his hot face.

“I knew it would scare you. You’re so easy to make flustered.” You teased him, making him blush again.

“Hey.” He pouted. “I am not.”

“Yeah, okay.” You said sarcastically.

“Okay.” He mimicked you by sounding as dumb as possible.

“That actually brings me to my next question which was to ask you all to do an impression of each other.” The journalist said, making you and Tom remember that you were in an interview.

“If you want to impersonate Y/n, just whine and complain a bunch.” Tom said. “And leave your jumper on every plane you go on.”

“Okay, I’ve lost like three sweatshirts around you. That’s hardly anything.” You defended yourself.

“Imagine losing your jumper every time your travel.” Tom said to the camera.

“Imagine losing 13 colonies at once.” You snapped back.”

“Stop. You know I’m sensitive about that.” Tom jokingly whined, making you laugh.

“I can do a Tom impression. Um I want to ask Y/n to go to dinner with me um tonight but um what if I ask her and she says no?” Jacob said in a whiny voice coupled with a bad British accent.

“What?” Tom sputtered. “That’s not what I sound like.”

“Yes it is.” Jacob insisted. “I heard that every night during filming. In fact, I still hear it.”

“Aw. Wait, that’s so cute. Did you actually do that?” You asked Tom.

“Only in the beginning, okay? It wasn’t as pathetic as Jacob made it sound. I wanted to hang out with you but we didn’t really know each other yet so I was worried you’d say no.”

“Aw, honey.” You chuckled. “I would’ve never said no. I wanted to get to know you too.”

“I’ll never understand you two. You were fighting two seconds ago. Now you’re all nice and friendly?” Jacob pointed out.

“That’s just how we work.” You shrugged.

“Yeah.” Tom agreed. “We run hot and cold.”

“Exactly. But we’re friends most of the time. I don’t think we fight that much.” You replied.

“You kinda do, though.” Jacob insisted. “I’m expecting at least two more fights before the end of this interview.”

“We’ll see.” You shrugged but knew he was probably right.

“So, the press schedule is obviously very rigorous for a movie this size. Do you guys ever get a day off to do your own thing?” The journalist asked.

“We actually had a day off a little while ago. For Washington’s Birthday.” Tom answered.

“George?” You asked him.

“What other Washington is there?” He turned in his seat to ask you.

“You were just talking about one the other day. When we were asked what historical figure we’d have dinner with.” You reminded him.

“I remember the question but I didn’t say Washington.” Tom frowned on confusion.

“Yes you did. You said that Washington guy and then said it was a super British answer or something.” You insisted.

“Who are you talking about?” Tom shook his head and laughed endearing at you.

“That guy. Don’t you remember? You just said it yesterday.” You whined a little and pushed his arm. Tom looked at the camera in confusion before he connected the dots in his head.

“Wait, do you mean Winston Churchill?”

“Oh God.” Jacob groaned. “Here we go.”

“Oh yeah. Him.” You nodded and pointed at Tom.

“You thought his name was Washington Churchill?” Tom laughed incredulously.

“Well I don’t know who he is. It sounded right in my head.” You defended yourself.

“You don’t know who Winston Churchill is? He’s super important to history.”

“Oh yeah? So who is he?” You challenged Tom, knowing damn well he didn’t know the answer.

“He…” Tom started to answer and then trailed off.

“See!” You clapped your hands. “You don’t even know. I knew you were bullshitting yesterday. You have no idea what Washington Churchill-“

“Winston.” He corrected you.

“Whatever. You have no idea what he did. And yet you said you wanted to have dinner with him just to sound smart. Ugh. So pretentious.” You groaned and playfully rolled your eyes.

“All right, smart ass. Who was your answer?” Tom leaned on his chair and asked you. You were both in your own little worlds now and fully ignoring everyone else in the room.

“Jonbenet Ramsey.” You said like it was obvious.

“Are you kidding me? You’re making fun of my answer but you would pick Gordon Ramsey’s daughter out of anyone in the world to have dinner with?”

“First of all, dingbat, Jonbenet Ramsey is a little pageant girl who was murdered in 1996 and they still haven’t solved the case. I want to have dinner with her because I want to know who did it. It’s a very famous true crime case but I guess they didn’t teach you that in college. Oh wait. You didn’t go. You were too busy making movies nobody ever saw.” You said and poked his chest.

“Don’t even go there.” Tom warned. “If I pull up your IMDB right now, I’d have to scroll through dozens of commercials and straight to DVD films before I got to any substantial roles. Don’t think I forgot about all the time you spent on the Hallmark channel, darling.”

“Do it. Pull up my IMDB right now. I dare you. You know what, I’ll do it for you.” You said and pulled out your phone. Jacob immediately snatched your phone and put it in his pocket.

“No. Please, no more. We’re not doing this again. I can’t hear the IMDB argument again. You said you weren’t gonna fight anymore.” Jacob pointed out.

“All right. Fine. I’m disengaging.” You said and held your hands up in defense.

“Finally, some silence.” Tom sighed in relief. You gave him an icy stare and his smile immediately dropped.

When you sat down to do press the next day, you thought about what Tom had said about running hot and cold. You liked the playful fights you got into but you didn’t want him to start to think you actually disliked him. So when he came into the room and sat next to you, you got an idea.

“Good morning, darling.” He said politely.

“You know what Tom, why don’t we make a point to not fight today?” You suggested.

“Well darling, that’s the first good idea you’ve ever had.” He said with a smug smile. You smiled sarcastically at him as you narrowed your eyes.

“You’re so funny.” You said sarcastically. “How come you’re perpetually single?”

“Because I haven’t worn you down yet and gotten you to go out with me.” He quipped.

“Aw. You want to wear me down? So romantic. I can feel it working already.” You gushed and winked at him. Even though you were kidding, he felt himself blush and had to look away. The interviewer came in then and started to ask you a few questions. You managed to get through most of the interview before any fighting broke out.

“Okay. Now we’re gonna play a game called kiss, marry, kill. Your choices are Scarlett Johansson, Robert Downey Jr, and miss Y/n L/n.” The interview said.

“Oh God. That last actress is the worst.” Tom mumbled under his breath. You gave him a look and he faked an innocent smile.

“I mean I love her.” He corrected.

“Well Tom’s answer for kiss is obviously me.” You said simply.

“What? Obviously?” He scoffed.

“Yeah. Obviously.” You scoffed back to mock him.

“Excuse you. How is it obvious?” He asked and turned in his chair to face you. He mostly did this to keep the camera from seeing how much he was blushing.

“Please. You want to kiss me so bad. And marry me and kill me. So Tom’s answer to all of them is me.”

“That’s what you think, huh?” Tom smiled and leaned on his chair to be closer to you.

“That’s what I know. I can tell you’re dying to get with me. There is no use hiding it.” You shrugged, making Tom grow redder.

“Do you hear how conceited she is? What a diva you are. I’m gonna spread a rumor that you’re difficult to work with.” Tom teased you right back.

“Maybe you find it difficult to work with me because of how bad you want me.” You shrugged.

“Oh please. You’re just projecting because you have a big fat crush on me.” Tom replied.

“What?” You laughed. “In your dreams, maybe. I only go for guys over 5’9. You just missed the cut off, buddy.”

“Not just in my dreams. In my reality.” Tom insisted. “And I’m the average height of a woman so now you’re the one being sexist. But come on, we said no fighting. What would your answer be?”

“Oh yeah. I forgot about the question. Okay, let me think.” You tapped your chin. “I would kiss Bradley Cooper-“

“What? He wasn’t even an option.” Tom laughed in surprised.

“Oh shit. My bad.” You covered your mouth with your hand.

“How did his name even come up?” Tom asked you, feeling a little jealousy bubble up.

“Because.” You smiled coyly. “Have you seen him? He’s double handsome. He looks like a sexy UPS truck driver. I’d sign for that package I’ll tell you that right now.”

“I can’t believe you’re cheating on your husband with Bradley Cooper.” Tom shook his head.

“My husband?”

“Me.” Tom said like it was obvious, making you laugh.

“I know you’re kidding but you kinda are though. I was just saying that to Jacob the other day.”

“About me? You said I was your husband?” Tom smiled in surprise.

“Yeah. You’re my work husband. That’s why we’re so hot and cold. Because we’re like an old married couple.” You smiled and patted his arm.

“Aw. We are.” He gushed. “But you still never answered the question.”

“Oh my God. Who were the choices again?”

“Johansson, Downey, and yourself.”

“Okay. I think my answer is kill Johansson, sorry Scarlett, I love you. I’d marry Downey for that Iron Man money and then kiss myself.”

“You’d kiss yourself? Why?” Tom wondered.

“Because no one else will.” You groaned. “When I woke up this morning and I tallied in my head how long it’s been since I’ve been on a date and once I reached a conclusion, I started to cry.”

“Oh God. Has it really been that long?” Tom laughed.

“It’s been so long. We can’t talk about this right now. I’m gonna start crying again.” You said and pretended to wipe your eyes.

“Wow. I didn’t realize this game would bring out so many emotions.” The journalist laughed.

“Me either. God. I need a date.” You sighed in exasperation.

“All right. I got the hint. I’ll go out with you.” Tom rolled his eyes playfully.

“Oh, please. You wish I’d go out with you.”

“On every eye lash and 11:11, yeah.” He replied. You laughed and playfully smacked his arm as you wondered if he was telling the truth or not. The interview went on but you were barely paying attention as you were too busy wondering if you relationship with Tom was part of the reason you had been single for so long. No matter how nice or funny a guy was, you always ended up comparing them to Tom. If they couldn’t make you laugh as much or keep up with you the way he could, they just didn’t interest you. It didn’t help that In between your arguing and teasing, Tom always managed to slip some flirting in there. The more you thought about it, you realized he hadn’t been in a relationship since meeting you either. And maybe that had something to do with you.

“What do you think?” The journalist asked you. You blinked a few times and came back into the conversation.

“Sorry, what?”

“What was going on in there? You seemed so deep in thought.” Tom smiled fondly and poked your head.

“Don’t touch me, nail biter.” You said and swatted his hand away.

“At least I don’t stink up the whole hotel room by painting my nails every single day.” He shot back in a playful manner.

“Excuse me for wanting polished nails for these interviews. I just happen to chip them a lot. And if you don’t like the smell, go back to your own room. Stop always hanging out in mine.”

“But then how would I get to see you?” He asked with his stupid charming smile.

“What are you talking about?” You laughed. “We literally spend all day together in these interviews. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“With you, darling, there’s never enough time together.” He said with a sarcastic suaveness.

“Shut up.” You laughed again and looked down at your lap so he couldn’t see how that made you blush. He saw it anyway since he couldn’t never seem to take his eyes off you.

The next day, your relationship with Tom was heavy on your mind as you sat in your glam chair. You were spaced out all during hair and makeup as you thought about the possibility of becoming more than friends. You were more than ready to see him but when you walked into the press junket room, you only saw two chairs and Jacob occupying one of them.

“Oh. We’re paired together today?” You asked without realizing how disappointed you sounded.

“I’m sorry. I know you’d rather be with your boyfriend.” Jacob chuckled. You playfully rolled your eyes at him and hugged him hello.

“He’s not my boyfriend. But I do miss him.” You admitted as you sat in your chair.

“You know nobody believes that, right? You guys are clearly together.” Jacob snorted.

“We’re really not. I know how it looks but we’re just friends.” You insisted.

“Come on. There’s no way you two haven’t made out or something.”

“Maybe we have, maybe we have.” You shrugged, making Jacob gasp.

“Oh my God. I knew it. He wouldn’t admit it but I knew you two were hooking up.” He clapped his hands.

“We’re actually not.” You laughed. “It’s just funny to see people fight for their lives to prove that we’re together. I like to feed the flame sometimes with these interviews. You know, keep them all on their toes.”

“Really? Because I could’ve sworn you two were hooking up on set. You were always sneaking off together and no one could find you.”

“That’s just because we liked to spend time together. But we would never hook up. If we ever get together, it’s gonna be the real thing. I’m talking marriage and kids and a picket fence. And whatever the British equivalent of the American Dream is. Beans and toast maybe? I don’t know. But definitely not a hook up.”

“So what’s stopping you guys from being in a relationship now? You like him, don’t you? Why not just date?” Jacob wondered.

“I don’t know. We’ve gotten really close the past few months. I know we tease each other a lot, but I’ve never had that kind of banter with anybody. Talking with him and going back and forth is the best at part of my day. And of course I like him, but what if I say something but he doesn’t feel the same? That’ll make our friendship super awkward and don’t forget- we signed on for another movie. I don’t want to make things weird by suggesting we go out.”

“Oh my God.” Jacob laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“What?” You wondered.

“You can’t be this oblivious. Why do you think he’s always starting fights with you?”

“Because he’s irritating?”

“Well, yes. But also because he’s crazy about you.”

“What? No he’s not.” You scoffed. “He just likes to push my buttons.”

“Y/n, seriously, I’m telling you-“

Before Jacob could finish his sentence, the interviewer walked in with the camera crew. You and Jacob quickly dropped the conversation and turned to shake the interviewers hand. Your interview began and you had to force yourself to listen instead of thinking about what Jacob was about to say before he was interrupted.

Later that day, you went back to your hotel room and collapsed on your bed. It had been a long, long day of press and you weren’t with Tom for any of it. You saw him briefly at lunch but barely got a word in before getting shuffled to the next interview. You had just kicked your shoes off when there was a hasty knock at your door. You groaned and went over to it before opening it up.

“What?” You whined like a little kid. Tom put his hands on his waist and pushed you into the room before shutting the door behind him.

“If you’re gonna stay here I’m warning you right now that I chipped my thumb and I’m two seconds away from pulling out my nail polish-“

“I heard what you said.” He blurted to cut you off.

“Um, can you be more a little more specific?” You laughed. “You know I try to talk to you as little as possible.”

“Can we be serious for one minute?” Tom said hastily. You frowned in confusion but nodded your head and sat down. You’d never heard him sound so serious before so you dropped your usual mocking banter. You patted the spot next to you and he nervously sat down.

“What’s up?” You asked him. Tom scratched the back of his head before nervously cracking his knuckles.

“I just gotta talk to you about something.”

“Tom, you’re freaking me out. What’s going on?” You asked and put a hand on his back. He took a deep breath and looked at you.

“I heard you when you were talking to Jacob. I was walking by and I heard my name so I stopped and I listened.” He admitted.

“Oh, shit. You heard all that?” You grimaced. Tom was unphased and kept looking into your eyes.

“Did you mean what you said? Do you really think we’re gonna do the real thing one day? House and kids and-“

“-And beans and toast.” You cut in.

“Yeah. And that.” He chuckled softly. “Did you mean all that? Do you really see a future with us?”

“I mean, I did before I found out you were an eavesdropper.” You mumbled out of the corner of your mouth.

“Are you kidding me? I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you for once in our lives but you can’t be serious for one minute.” Tom huffed and sat on the bed next to you.

“This is who is am.” You shrugged. “You came to the silly lake and you found a silly goose. I don’t know what to tell you.”

Tom let out a dry laugh before looking at you. You looked into his eyes and saw that for once, he looked completely serious. You frowned at the unexpected candor in his eyes and gave him your full attention.

“Tell me you want me.” He said. “As much as I’ve wanted you since the day we met.”

“You do?” You asked doubtfully.

“Why do you think I invited you to watch all those movies with me? Or hang out in your hotel room every night? I want to be around you all the time. I just didn’t know how to say that since we’re never…” He trailed off as he searched for the right word.

“Serious.” You finished his sentence for him with a knowing smile.

“Exactly. I love joking around with you. I love how much you challenge me to come up with a better insult. I even love being teased for my nationality. But I also love when we just get to talk. I love to hear your perspective on things. I just like being near you.”

“Is this a practical joke?” You asked skeptically.

“Bitch, do I look like four lifelong best friends who compete to embarrass each other to you?” Tom sassed you. You gave him a warning look and he mumbled an apology.

“So you’re telling me you actually like me? For my personality?” You asked him.

“No, darling. I like you in spite of your terrible, garbage personality.” Tom teased you. You rolled your eyes at him but found yourself leaning in closer.

“I hate you.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I hate you too. See how much we can agree on?” Tom replied and smoothly put his arm around you. You looked over at the arm that was on your shoulders as you thought about what he was saying.

“You do realize if you were my boyfriend, we’d be fighting all the time.” You pointed out.

“We do that anyway.” He shrugged. “Why not throw some kissing and domestic partnership in there?”

“Oh, so I was right? You do want to kiss me, huh?” You raised your eyebrows as you teased him.

“Well, I have lips, you have lips, why not put them to use?”

“You have lips?” You pretended to gasp. “Where have you been hiding them this whole time?”

“Oh my God. You are such a little-“

You cut him off by cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss. He insulted left his head immediately as he wrapped his arms around you to kiss you back.

“I want you too.” You told him once you pulled away. He smiled in surprise and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Even though we can’t agree on anything?” He joked.

“Even though your hairline is receding, yes.” You replied.

“That wasn’t what I-“

“Shh.” You hushed him and kissed him again. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

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 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

#tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland enemies to lovers #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x famous!reader

[steddieas-shegoes]

more than everything else

For @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt ‘proposal’ wc: 999 rated m cw: suggestive language | tags: domestic fluff, sappy and romantic

💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍

“Steve! Freezer’s working again!” Eddie yelled from his spot on the floor behind their previously defunct freezer.

Eddie insisted he could fix it himself, hence the hours he’d spent on the floor with tools that weren’t doing anything and a lip bitten until it bled.

“Told you if you took your shirt off it would work faster,” Steve said from the doorway, hands on his hips as he took in the sight of Eddie being half naked.

Sweat dripping down his chest.

A bruise forming on his side where he’d dropped a wrench on himself earlier.

His newest tattoo peeling because he’d forgotten to put Vaseline on it earlier.

“I always listen to you, sweetheart,” Eddie smirked as he stood up. “You got any plans later?”

“I actually do remember something on the calendar.”

Eddie walked over to him, covered Steve’s hands with his own and rocked him side to side. “Damn.”

“Why? You wanna make plans?” Steve raised a brow.

“I thought I could get a reward for all my hard work today,” Eddie pouted his bottom lip out, eyes widening as he leaned further into Steve’s space. “Maybe in the bedroom?”

“Reward? For fixing the freezer that you broke?”

“I seem to remember someone saying that the freezer was just ‘old’ and that this ‘could’ve happened to anyone.’ Or am I mistaken?” Eddie let go of Steve’s hands but stayed close to him.

“I’m not sure who said that. I do remember someone saying that if you turned it down too far for too long, it would break, though. Maybe you can recall who said that?” Steve leaned in to peck his lips softly, teasing just a little with his fingers along the waistband of Eddie’s pants. “Seems like a smart guy.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well. At least the guy who broke it could fix it.”

“That’s right, baby.” Steve backed away. “Now. I’ve got baked chicken spaghetti in the oven for dinner and I made cookies earlier if you-“

“Marry me.”

Steve froze, his eyes widened.

Maybe Eddie could’ve been more eloquent, more romantic.

Shit, maybe he could do that still.

He reached for Steve’s hands, smiling softly at him as his eyes darted between Eddie’s, searching for him to say that it was a joke.

“I’m serious.” Eddie kissed his forehead before continuing. “You think I survived the hell of ‘86 to not end up with Steve Harrington? You think I’ve spent nearly every day of the last six years trying to be the best partner you could ask for, the kind you deserve? You make me wanna be more than everything else.”

“What-“

Eddie shushed him with a kiss. “When I was little, like barely old enough to ride a bike, my mom brought me to a flower shop. She said I had to pick a nice flower for my teacher so she knew I was a sweet kid. I picked a daffodil. She laughed and said ‘you know the love of my life always brought my a daffodil’ and when I asked why dad didn’t bring them to her anymore she said ‘he never did.’ And as I got older I realized what that meant. I never could ask her about it, but I eventually asked Wayne. He said-“ Eddie sniffed, biting his lip trying not to cry. “He said sometimes the love you get isn’t what makes you feel better than everything else, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to feel more than everything else. And I still didn’t quite get it, ya know? Made no damn sense to me when I was 13. Kinda thought Wayne was high.” Steve laughed, Eddie smiled. “But then I saw you in the cafeteria one day, and I saw the way you held the door open for some of the band kids even though Tommy was teasing you for it. And I saw how much you did for me at my worst, even before you had a reason to, before you knew it would be worth more. I see how you love, and how you keep loving, even when some people may not deserve it. I feel how much you are, how much more you can still be. And how much I wanna be more to be worthy of you. I don’t have much, you know I don’t, but you love me anyway. And you make me wanna be more.”

Steve’s tears were falling rapidly, a sob escaping at the end of Eddie’s words as he fell forward, his tears soaking Eddie’s shirt instantly.

“You’re enough for me,” he finally managed to say against Eddie’s neck. “You’ve always been enough for me. I don’t want more. I just want you.”

“I know, sweet love. I know.” Eddie’s arms tightened around him. “You think you could marry me?”

“Eds. I would marry you every day if we could.” Steve sniffed as he pulled away. “We can’t really do it, though.”

“Maybe not. But we can wear rings, tell everyone. I can call you my husband around the people who love us.”

That was a hell of a thought.

Husbands.

“You’re sure you want that?”

“Of course I am. Who else is gonna fix your freezer when it breaks?”

“Maybe you could try not to break it in the first place.” Steve smacked his shoulder. He kissed him slowly, tongue brushing against his bottom lip but not looking for more. “But I guess it would be nice to have someone around all the time to fix the stuff he breaks.”

“Hey!”

“I love you.”

It was that simple.

“So. My reward?”

“My hand in marriage.” Steve turned away and looked over his shoulder. “And maybe my hand in other places. If you hurry up and shower.”

“I’ll be done in five. Be naked on the kitchen table-“

“Eddie, not-“

“The kitchen table!”

Steve rolled his eyes but threw his shirt to the floor and winked before making his way to the kitchen. “Five minutes!”

#steddieholidaydrabbles #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #proposal

[wh0re43van]

Boyfriend pt 3 (Warren Lipka X Reader)

Word Count: 3k

Summary: You wake up at Warrens house, then finally indirectly break up with your boyfriend.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of Warrens wounds from the fight, mentions of weed

A/n: Okay y’all, i think this might be the last part. I could probably continue this for another part or two if i really wanted to. (i have a couple rough ideas) but I’m probably gonna focus on other fics.

Pt 1, Pt 2

As I open my eyes, I’m startled for a split second, not recognizing the bed I’m in or the ceiling I’m looking at, but the familiar scent of weed and the sound of a bong bubbling while a Green Day CD plays in the background reminds me that I’m at Warrens house. I sit up in his bed, the t-shirt of his that I’m wearing hangs off me, still smelling of his cologne.

“Well good morning sleeping beauty,” Warren says between coughs, I sit up in the bed yawning.

“Why’d you leave me,” I frown, looking at the cold spot next to me where Warren fell asleep last night.

“Well, I waited for you to wake up for like an hour, I got bored,” he laughs, standing from the couch then walking to the bed, bong in hand. I smile at the boy in front of me. His disheveled brown hair that’s falling into his bruised face, the white tank top that hugs his torso snug and his grey sweatpants that don’t leave much to the imagination. “Does this make up for it?” He hands me the glass and the lighter.

“Only if you go get me some water,” I smile sweetly, accepting the bong.

“Anything for you,” he winks, making my heart flutter as he turns to walk up the steps. I take a small hit from the bong before laying back down on the bed, watching the smoke I blow out cloud above my head and dissipate into the yellow light in the ceiling.

‘How did I get here?’ I think to myself. Just last month I had a routine. I was comfortable- albeit bored. I knew what every day was going to consist of, there were no surprises. I woke up, smoked, then either went to work or went to Dakota’s house. If I went to my job at the library, I had a set task list; the exact same every day. If I went to Dakotas, we either went on deliveries or argued because he’d been cheating on me again. Sad, I know, but that’s how it was, and I was fine with it. Everything’s different now, not in a bad way though. Warren invaded my thoughts and my heart as soon as we reunited, and I don’t think he intends on leaving anytime soon. I’m grateful for him. He’s made me see that life can be exciting-and messy. I’ll never be able to think of sex the same for the rest of my life, regardless of what happens with us.

‘Us,’ I think to myself. ‘What are we?’ Are we friends with benefits? Is he seeing other girls? He wants me to break up with my boyfriend, but I don’t even know where he and I stand. I’m going to break up with Dakota- for many reasons- but, do I really want to jump straight into a relationship again? Is that what Warren wants? Will he lose interest once I’m single? Regardless, I don’t want whatever me and him have to end; That’s the only thing I know for sure.  

“Here you go, beautiful,” Warren interrupts my thoughts, his voice bringing a smile to my face as he hands me the glass of water.

“You’re so chivalrous,” I giggle before taking a sip of the cold water. Warren crawls over top of me and flops down on the bed, laying on his back with his toned arms crossed above his head. He smiles and sighs, turning his battered face to look at me with heavy eyes.

“What?” I giggle, unsure of why he’s staring. His grin stays plastered on him as he shakes his head.

“Nothing… It’s just if you had told 13 year old me about this past month, I would have never believed you. How did I manage to get the most beautiful girl in Fayette County in my bed, wearing my shirt…only my shirt?” he says in a dreamy tone as he props himself up on a bruised arm. I can’t help but blush at his words. He knows exactly how to flatter a woman.

“Oh stop,” I giggle. “You’re quite the looker yourself,” I smirk as crawl on top him, sitting on his stomach. “You look really good in this wifebeater with your busted lip,” I run my hand up his chest and to his face, brushing my thumb over his healing abrasion. He brings his strong arms to my hips, leaning into my hand on his face. “You look dangerous,” I wiggle my eyebrows, smirking. He laughs as he flips me over so that he’s hovering above me, he slips his hand under the t-shirt I’m wearing, ghosting over my bare core.

“You have no idea,” he whispers lowly in my ear before nibbling on my neck, sending electric shoot through my entire body.

“I don’t think that I thanked you properly for defending my honor,” I smile, before pulling the shirt up and over my body, leaving me completely bare underneath him. His eyes scan my body as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“This view right here is thanks enough,” his sultry tone resonates in my ears as he runs his busted knuckles over my curves, leaving goosebumps on every inch of skin that he touches.

“I have a little bit more to offer,” I smirk as I sit up, shoving him on to his back. He watches in anticipation as I settle between his legs. “I gotta say,” I purr slowly as my hand ghosts over his crotch. “You looked really hot fighting for me,” I smile through my lashes as I slide my fingers under the top his waistband.

“And I’d do it again, especially if you’re my reward,” he brings a rough hand to my cheek, pushing my hair out of my face as he stares bullets into my soul. I’ve always adored his dark eyes, the color of freshly brewed coffee; bitter yet comforting. A single glance from the man below me is enough to make my core ache.

“You know Warren,” I begin as I slowly pull his sweats down, holding his gaze. “When you look at me like that, you could get me to do absolutely anything you want,” I say before biting my lip in anticipation as I slide his boxers down to reveal his semi hard cock awaiting my attention.

“Mmm, I could say the same thing about you, darlin’,” he groans out, his deep voice sending chills down my spine straight to my core. I spit into my hand before grabbing his cock, pumping it a few times to fully wake it up. He hums at the contact, his body relaxes as he lays flat on his back, laying his arms above his head. I cup his balls in one hand and his base in the other as I slowly sink my mouth down on him until he hits my throat, earning a low moan from the back of his throat.

“You always treat me so well, baby,” Warren groans, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure. I begin to bob my head up and down on him, hollowing out my cheeks. “Mmm, atta’ girl. Just like that, beautiful,” he sits up to watch me gag on him; a feeling that I’ve grown to love. Every ounce of praise he gives my goes straight to my stomach, fueling the butterflies that are erupting. His eyes, dark with lust, gaze down at me. I lose myself in the moment. His moans and words of praise fill the room as he repeatedly thrusts against the back of my throat. My jaw starts to go numb, but I ignore it; The site of Warrens face contorted in pleasure and the compliments falling from his blushed lips is worth every ounce of pain.

I see his hand go the night stand, picking up my vibrating phone. I pull away from him, catching my breath as he puts the phone to his ear.

“What do you want?” he asks with a sly grin before gently guiding my head back to his erection. I’m confused, but I obey and slip him back into my mouth. “She’s right here, but she’s a little busy at the moment,” he smirks into the phone.

‘Oh god. It’s got to be Dakota’ I think to myself as I kitten lick around his tip. I hear him raise his voice on the other end of the line.

‘Yep. It’s Dakota,’ I think I hear him ask warren to put me on the phone, followed by some curses. Warren laughs as he thrusts deep into my throat, making me audibly gag.

“She can’t talk right now man, her mouths a little preoccupied,” he winks at me, my cheeks burn red. I can tell Warren is enjoying this- maybe a little too much and I hate to admit that I also find this situation extremely hot, so I play along. I take his entire length into my throat, past my gag reflex until my nose is nestled against the small patch of brown hair decorating his skin.

“Fuck! Just like that baby,” he moans loudly, chuckling into the receiver. He begins to thrust deep into my throat, groaning in pleasure. “What’s she doing?” He laughs breathlessly as his free hand uses my hair to hold my head in place as he violates my mouth. “Mmm, I’ll spare you the details, dude,” he says, his stupid grin not leaving his face. I can hear Dakota cussing Warren out. His eyes focus on me as thick strings of spit drip from my mouth around him as he fucks my throat, my gagging filling the room. Warren uses my hair to pull my head back, spit rolling down my face as I gasp for air. He holds the small phone up to my mouth. “Do you like gagging on me y/n?” he asks I nod my head still trying catch my breath. “Use your words beautiful,” he says with the biggest shit eating grin, using his eyes to motion to the phone.

“I fucking love it,” I say breathlessly, a smirk falling across my own face as my knees becoming weak from how aroused I am. With that, he shoves his cock back into my mouth.

“Holy fucking shit,” he growls in a way I’ve never heard before as he drops the phone on his chest, Dakotas small voice still shouting on the other end of the line. Warren grabs either side of my head guiding me up and down his cock a couple more times.

“Fuck, just like that, baby. I’m cumming,” Warren groans as he releases deep into my throat and onto my tongue, I lap up every last drop, pulling away gasping again. “Did you swallow all of it, darlin’?” he asks, panting as he wipes a tear from my cheek. Dakotas frantic voice still chirping through the small plastic brick.

“Yes sir,” I giggle opening my mouth, sticking my tongue. Warren smirks, grabbing my ass to scootch me up to him. “Good girl,” he says against my lips.

“Warren!” I hear Dakotas infuriated voice boom from the phone. Warren laughs holding it up to his ear again. Dakota bellows every slur, insult, and curse word I’ve ever heard through the cell until Warren cuts him off.

“Yeah that’s why I fucked your girl,” he laughs loudly, his shit eating grin plastered proudly on his battered face. “Bitchass cuck!” he shouts before ending the call, tossing the phone to the side.

“Warren, what was all that about,” I giggle as he attacks my bare skin with kisses and love bites.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.” He pants against my skin. “Turn over, beautiful, I’m not done yet,” he slaps my ass, standing to remove his tank top, his dick still hard as ever. My stomach flips as I get on my hands and knees on his bed. He comes up behind me, pulling me to the edge of the bed, using his hands to spread me open. Wasting no time, he licks a long strip across my core, earning a whimper from me. “You taste so sweet baby,” he coos before inserting a finger inside of me. I whine at the contact. He begins pumping his finger inside of me. “You really liked that, hm? You’re soaked,” I can hear the smirk in his voice, all I can do is nod my head as he curls exactly where I need him most.

“Fuck Warren,” I whimper, desperate for more of his touch.

“You’re so fucking stunning,” he runs his hand down my back and over my ass, admiring my body while he slips another finger inside of me, I whine in response. It’s strange the kind of affect he has on me; With one touch from his hand, I’m soaked. I’m so pathetically attracted to this man, I’m almost ashamed. He fuels a lust deep inside of me that I never even knew was there. No drug is any match for the way that Warren can make me feel.

“Fuck me, Warren,” I whimper out as his fingers pump into me. “Please, I can’t stand it, I need you Warren, please,” I plead in a way that I’d never imagined I would beg a man.

“Anything for my girl,’’ he coos, pulling his fingers out to lean down and place wet kiss on my lower back, nibbling at the skin, sure to leave a mark.

‘His girl’ the phrase fills my heart with joy.

Soon, I feel Warren slowly pushing into me. His hand reaches up, snaking gently around my throat as he pushes deeper and deeper into my sopping wet cunt. I let out the unholiest of sounds as he stretches me out.

“Fuck,” my voice comes out shaky and desperate as he begins to thrust into me.

“Holy shit, you’re so fucking perfect,” he groans, his grip on my throat tightening as he pounds into me. He slaps my ass, making me gasp loudly. He rubs his hand gently over the stinging skin. “This is mine,” he growls lowly, then he wraps his other hand around my torso, pulling me up to so that my back is flush against his chest as I rest my knees on the bed. This new angle allows him to hit even deeper inside of me, making me see stars. I lean my head back on his shoulder, my eyes rolling back in their sockets. He grabs my face and ducks his head down to pull me into an intense kiss. His tongue explores my mouth as he pounds my pussy into oblivion.

“You’re all mine,” he growls against my lips, his grip tightening on my throat a bit. My knees go so weak that his arms are the only thing holding me up, keeping our sweaty skin pressed together.

“Fuck Warren,” I pant out, barely audible. The rubber band that has been tightly winding in my stomach snaps, sending ecstasy to every cell of my body. My walls convulse around him while he continues to thrust into me mercilessly. “That’s my girl,” he groans lowly in my ear, reaching down to rub my clit to encourage my orgasm. I come completely undone around him, my body begins to shake as I scream out his name, the pleasure almost to much when he reaches his own release. He pumps me full of his cum, fucking it deep into me as I clench around him. His warm seed drips out of my cunt around his cock as he rides out his orgasm, surely leaving bruises underneath every fingertip gripping my neck. He finally slows down, pulling out of me before picking me up with shaky arms to lay me gently on the bed. I lay with my eyes closed trying to catch my breath, a sweaty puddle on the disheveled bed. Warren lays down beside me. “I’m sorry, was that too much?” he asks sincerely, placing a loving hand on my stomach. I open my eyes, turning to look at him.

“Are you kidding,” I giggle weakly. His worried expression quickly matches my own. “Warren that was amazing,” I crawl up to lay on his sweaty chest, his quick heartbeat is comforting as it rings through my ears.

“You can always tell me if I do something you don’t like,” he says honestly as he traces circles on my back, using his other hand to run his fingers through my hair.

“Warren Lipka, you know that you can do no wrong,” I giggle as I snuggle further into him. He laughs lightly, the room is filled with a comfortable silence.

“Hey, how ‘bout we get cleaned up and I take you to that new cafe that opened up in town?” He offers. I sit up to meet his gaze, he has a serious expression on his bruised face.

“What? Like… like a date?” I smile a bit sheepishly. He smiles right back.

“I’d sure like it to be,” he says hopefully. My grin stretches from ear to ear as I stand from the bed, tugging on his arm.

“Well, come on then. I don’t want to go on our first date with your cum dripping down my leg,” I laugh as I pull him into the bathroom.

“Hm, I don’t know. Sounds kinda hot to me,” he chuckles as he closes the bathroom door behind us, pulling me into a deep kiss before he turns the shower head on.

#evan peters #evan peters smut #ahs cult #ahs hotel #jimmy darling smut #kai anderson #kit walker smut #ahs asylum #ahs fandom #ahs murder house #warren lipka smut #warren lipka #kai anderson smut #kit walker x reader #evan peters x reader #peter maximoff smut #peter maximoff #tate langdon smut #tate langdon

[chocosvt]

best friend’s brother

⚬ pairing: joshua x fem!reader ⚬ word count: 37k ⚬ warnings: alcohol, mentions of unsafe sex/unplanned pregnancy  ⚬ genres: timestep, romance, angsty angst, major feels abt having a crush, lots of flirting, smut, drama, happy tears.

✧✎ synopsis: joshua happens to be your best friend's older brother. he's pretty, and he's got a lot of cool details about him that you pay a concerning amount of attention to, but he’s just a friend (if you could even call it that). still, what does he think of you, anyway? that is—if he thinks of you.

 ✧✎ a/n: this is a rewrite of an old fic that i uploaded in 2016. keep in mind the original version was only 13k! i've made so many changes to this story and i really hope those who read it enjoy it! thank you sm!

⇢ here is this fic’s inspo playlist ⇢ smut section is marked! ⇢ taglist included in final author’s note

13.

You flipped to the next page of the plastic binder and squiggled a small ‘seven’ inside the margin. Then, your eyes wandered back to the math textbook sitting in between you and your best friend. It was difficult to study on Jennie’s bed, but she liked it that way, and there definitely wasn’t enough room at her desk.

“Okay, this part shouldn’t be too hard,” she said, using the tip of her pencil to trace the question, “we just have to graph this line, and we already know the y-intercept is going to be negative three.”

“This would be so much easier if the teacher handed out graph paper. Look at this grid I just drew, it’s so ugly.”

Jennie leaned over her left shoulder to look at your binder and started laughing. It was probably the saddest grid in history.

“I have a ruler somewhere,” the girl offered, pushing up onto her knees and patting around the bed, “at least, I think I do… or—maybe he took it. Yeah, of course, he definitely has it, stupid idiot.”

“Who? Joshua?” You asked.

She huffed again, sliding back onto her stomach.

“Mmhm, told me he needed it for his physics homework,” she uttered the word in a fancy-established way, as though she were making fun of it, “he never gives back any of my stuff.”

The only thing you could do was swallow and nod your head, meanwhile this awkward smile was slapped onto your mouth. You loved Jennie, you really did, but the only reason you agreed to homework and supper at her house was because of a very specific reason—this was the one night her older brother didn’t have any guitar or baseball lessons, or some outing planned with his friends. And, well, you hadn’t seen him at all since you’d gotten here, but he’d inevitably have to come down for dinner. Joshua, that was his name.

He was about two years older than you, and despite never having a conversation with him before, there was a lot you already knew about him. For example, Joshua always wore the same beat-up pair of white converse sitting in the front foyer. He liked collecting these weird, colourful band t-shirts and he routinely made Jennie bring him a piece of Double Bubble whenever he didn’t have any. It was pretty unimportant information, actually, but not to you.

“Shoot, it’s almost time for to eat,” Jennie announced, looking back at the alarm clock on her bedside table, “my parents will probably call us down any minute. Guess no more homework.” She flipped the textbook shut and cleared all her notes away. “Also, what do you want to do after dinner? My mom said we can walk to the river. We might be able to catch some frogs.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, we should do that.”

“Totes,” Jennie smiled, “okay, I’m gonna see if they need any help setting the table. Hey, do you wanna grab Josh from his room? Tell him to come down?”

Almost immediately, you shot up onto your knees.

“Me?” You reiterated, aiming a finger at yourself.

Jennie threw on a small wool cardigan from the spine of her desk chair, tilting her head at you in amusement.

“Mmhm. Yeah, you. Who else is in here? Just grab him, ‘kay? And make sure you knock kinda loud ‘cause sometimes he’s got his earbuds in, so he can’t hear.”

Before you could even hope to oppose, she was already out the door and skipping downstairs, and you listened to the sound of her socks sliding against their hardwood floors until everything was silent. Okay, yes, you’d wanted to see Joshua and maybe find an excuse to say even a word to him, but as your docile, thirteen-year old self, asking him to join you for dinner was like…like asking you to take the sun out of the sky—very much impossible. But you were also too worried to not do anything, so you settled for a nervous walk down the hall, where Joshua’s door was covered with posters.

You knocked, though not that loudly.

When there was no answer, your face exploded into heat and you already questioned just leaving him to his devices.

But you tried knocking again, harsher this time, only to be met with the same poster of a woman wearing red, star-shaped glasses. You pressed your ear to the door. It sounded a little too quiet. And for some god awful, stupid reason that you could not compute, you decided to open Joshua’s bedroom door and just waltz right in like it was second nature. Except, there was no one. His room was empty, the shades fully drawn so everything was tinted dark, and surprisingly, it was quite neat for a fifteen-year-old boy. You saw his guitar propped in the corner, and some shiny medals dangling above his bed from baseball competitions.

He had a lava lamp sitting on his desk, purplish and hot yellow, which left a very impressionable dent on you, because you’d always wanted a lava lamp and this cute boy just happened to own one. You even saw Jennie’s ruler sitting next to a massive textbook on his desk, beside a tiny glass and acrylic cube of the solar system.

His room seemed like the most fascinating place on Earth.

“Uh, did Jennie tell you to come in here?”

Shoot!

It was horribly audible, that embarrassing suckle of breath you heaved in through your teeth, and when you turned around to meet the boy who was looking at you so concerningly, you realized he wasn’t mad (which was wonderful, since you already felt on the verge of tears and having this boy snap would definitely be the hand to push you over the edge). He reached out to flick on a light.

“Dinner’s ready,” you told him, your voice shaking a little.

“Okay,” Joshua answered, “are you… looking for something?”

“No, sorry, I’ll leave now. I’m really sorry.”

You didn’t know what you were saying as you stumbled past the boy blindly, but he’d moved to let you shuffle by, even tapped the door open a bit wider for you. By the time you were downstairs, you grabbed a large glass of water and chugged it, knowing that was the first time you’d ever felt this winded—the fact it had made the air simultaneously thicker and harder to breathe. Joshua came down about a minute later to grab a soda can from the fridge, meanwhile Jennie and her parents were adjusting the table.

“Do you like cream soda?” He asked you.

“My mom says they’re not hea—um, never mind.”

Yeah, say that, you thought, and he’ll think you’re a big loser.

“I’ll leave one in the fridge,” Joshua responded with a shrug.

When he popped open the tab to his drink, it started foaming and spilling orange soda onto the rim, which he slurped up quickly over the sink. You just stood there idly, watching him, thinking he was the most attractive thing in the universe, and you didn’t begin to question these feelings until you were standing alone in the kitchen.

What did it even mean to be attracted to someone? And should you really be this giddy about your best friend’s brother?

14.

You were standing outside, balancing on the edge of the curb, trying not to sway backwards due to the immense weight from your backpack—stuffed with two textbooks, a gigantic binder, and the big thermos that had held your lunch. Jennie was crouched down beside you, twiddling her thumbs as she stared at her phone. Exams were starting in the middle of June, so you two decided to get a leg up and take the study sessions to her house. Joshua was supposed to come around front and pick you up, but he was pretty damn late.

“Bet he’s fooling around in the parking lot w’Hansol,” Jennie grumbled, clicking off her phone and shielding her eyes from the bright summer sun, “I’m gonna melt. It’s so freaking hot out.”

“Do you want to go back inside and use the fountain?”

“No, ‘cause that’s when he’ll show up. He left me here once, y’know? All because I went back inside to get my gym shoes.”

“That doesn’t seem like him,” you said, smiling.

Jennie reached out her hand and you pulled her up.

“Mmhm, he just pretends to be all cute and Mr. Polite when my friends are around,” the girl rolled her eyes, “but he’s so mean.”

Mean? You couldn’t imagine Joshua being mean. You suppose he did order Jennie around sometimes, nagging her to do his chores or grab him another can of soda, but that just seemed like normal sibling behaviour. Besides, there were times when Joshua was plenty sweet, like when he’d come into the basement to bring you and Jennie ice cream (though you might’ve heard his mom urging him to do it, because there’s a ‘guest’ over). With a voice like his, you couldn’t even imagine him yelling.

“Oh! There! Finally!” Jennie flung out her arm to point at the silver-bullet car approaching the curb. “Gosh, took him forever.”

The passenger seat window rolled down, and you recognized Joshua’s best friend, Hansol, who wiggled his fingers to wave.

“You’re late,” Jennie barked through the window.

Joshua turned down his radio ever so slightly, only to shake his head and gesture for her to hurry up and climb inside. When you wriggled into the back, there was hardly enough room between your knees and Joshua’s reclined seat, forcing you to sit the uncomfortable backpack on your lap. Jennie leaned forward before she clicked on her seatbelt, giving her older brother a whack on the head.

“Pull up your chair, dummy. Give the girl some room.”

“Oh—shit, sorry.” He mumbled, and it seemed like Joshua hadn’t even realized you’d climbed into the car until his eyes glanced into the rear mirror, and suddenly, the seat was yanked forward.

Hansol turned around, “are you guys thirsty? I’m trying to convince Josh to stop at Joe’s Corner Store for some alcoholic beverages.”

“Why did you whisper it?” Jennie asked.

“Because it’s illegal.”

“Yeah, no duh. We’re all underage.” She folded her arms.

“Pretend I meant sodas,” Hansol smiled wide and gummy, revealing his rows of brace-covered teeth, “so what’chya thinking?”

“Yeah,” Jennie obliged, “I guess I’m thirsty. Let’s do it.”

Joshua was already at the stop sign, shaking his head.

“No, alright? Mom wants us home by two-forty-five. If we stop at Joe’s then we’re gonna push it, and I just got back car key privileges. Can’t you drink something when we get home?”

You were fully inclined to stay out of their sibling disputes, so you settled for looking out the window instead, watching a sprinkler shower a garden. That is until you felt a nudge against your elbow and Jennie was gesturing at you with her head to say something.

“He won’t say no to you,” she whispered between her teeth.

“U-Um,” you piped up, feeling hotter than the blacktop, “I’m, uh, really… I’m really thirsty too. Can we stop at Joe’s?”

Jennie pinched the back of your hand, murmuring, “y’have to add in ‘please, Joshua’, and sell it too.”

You were blinking at her awkwardly the entire time.

“Um… please… Joshua.”

Even though both directions were clear, her older brother still hadn’t turned yet, and from the way Jennie was clasping her hands together expectantly, you were hoping that pathetic ask was enough. When you glanced toward the rear-view mirror, Joshua was already looking at you. Honestly, you didn’t think you had the power to sway him even relatively, but then he flicked his signal to the right.

“Yes!” Hansol shouted from the front, “I’m gonna mix the cherry slush with the blue raspberry, and no one can stop me!”

“No one wants to,” Jennie remarked.

She then sent you a wink, which seemed unnecessary and kind of confusing because it felt like she was saying, ‘see, I told you.’

At your age, it was easy to take Joshua’s compliance as a gesture much bigger than it actually was, and for some reason, you already knew that. He was just being nice, is all, sweet, like he had to.

You were his little sister’s best friend.

“A large? Your brain can’t handle a large, Hansol.”

Jennie was standing behind Hansol at the slushie machine, watching him with a judgemental expression as he bent down the little handle and a bunch of icy, cherry red slush fell into his cup. You didn’t really know a lot about Hansol, minus the best friend to Joshua part and the fact his shaggy brown hair desperately needed a trim, but you did pick up that Jennie was always bickering with the boy and trying to get his attention. Most times, you ignored them.

Despite bending to your friend’s plea and asking Joshua to stop for drinks, you didn’t have any extra change lying around, even in the crevices of your backpack. Jennie was using money she earned from her allowance, and Hansol had just gotten payed the other day due to his first job at the bowling alley. You were staring at the glass display of bottles and cans across the store when Joshua came around the corner, holding onto his usual—an orange cream soda.

Pretending not to notice him seemed like a definite way to erase his presence, but you surely weren’t that dumb at fourteen.

“Are you almost ready to go?”

“Yeah, I am.”

Joshua reached into his pocket and checked his phone.

“Five minutes to get home,” he sighed, “it’ll be close—hey, didn’t you say you were thirsty or something? Changed your mind?”

You shrugged, “I realized I don’t have any money.”

“Oh,” Joshua responded, and the silence that hung in the tacky, air-conditioned sweat lodge that was Joe’s Corner Store was suddenly palpable, “I, um, I don’t have any extra on me, sorry.”

The only thing you could do was smile at him, and it must’ve creeped him out or something, because Joshua decided to turn around and go find Hansol who was inquiring about lottery tickets at the front counter. You waited outside while everyone paid, sat down in the shade provided by the cute, kitschy overhang painted with soft green and spring flowers. Joshua came outside first, which you noted from the pair of white converse that had just stepped beside you in the stones. And then, a can of cream soda was lowered to your face.

“Do you want this?” Joshua offered.

You glanced up at him, but only for an instant.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded.

When everyone shuffled back into the car, Hansol was already jabbering at Joshua to crank up the air while he rolled the slushie against his cheek. Jennie was just about to poke a straw into her cold tea when she noticed the bright orange can in your lap, which you’d wanted to hide from her. It was just that, one time she begged Joshua for about half an hour that he give her the last can of cream soda in the fridge, yet he wouldn’t relent no matter what.

But today he let you have one, no problem.

The rest of the day went pretty accordingly. You weren’t allowed in the basement because Joshua and Hansol were apparently watching ‘scary movies’ that weren’t suited to anyone younger than sixteen, even though Jennie assured you she’d already seen them and they were mild at best. You finished the can of cream soda, and you nearly had a heart attack when Jennie went to throw it in the trash.

“N-No! I, um, I’d like to keep it, actually.”

“Really?” Jennie sounded too surprised. “It’s just a can.”

“I’m—” quick, think up a reasonable lie that won’t mislead her into suspecting you only want the can because of her brother, “I’m collecting cans, like Elsie Bolger. She gets money back from them.”

“Oh, okay then,” Jennie shrugged, “it’s all yours.”

Because of that dumb lie you told Jennie, you were stuck with a hobby you didn’t even want over the summer, and a gigantic plastic bag lumped in the garage half-filled with tin. Your mom proposed that you start going on ‘neighbourhood walks’ to pick up any extra cans people might’ve throw into ditches or left at the parks, which was how Joshua drove past you at seven in the morning, on his way to baseball practice, catching a glimpse of you wandering through a slippery trench that you’d quite literally fallen into.

Great, you were now probably the biggest loser he knew.

The neighbourhood walks didn’t last too long though, as you came to realize there were a lot of disgusting, unsterile things that got thrown into ditches, besides coffee cups and soda cans.

Your safest bet was to ask the neighbours on your block, and by the end of July, you’d gotten a few people to start saving their cans for you. Additionally, Jennie offered to pitch in, and thus every Saturday you rode your bicycle to her house hoping that she’d remembered to save at least one can so your journey wasn’t futile.

Last week, you’d stopped by on a Sunday.

And not much could’ve really prepared you for that.

That morning, it wasn’t Jennie who answered the door, still dressed in her pyjamas with the little flamingos on them because she would sleep into lunch if she could—nope, it was Joshua. Shirtless Joshua. Shirtless, only dressed in sweatpants, with damp and mussed back hair Joshua. You couldn’t even whimper out one word. It was so obvious that you were trying not to let your curious, adolescent eyes roam that tanned torso of his like he was a dessert pamphlet. Your bike was resting against the garage—you could make a run for it.

“Jennie isn’t here,” Joshua said, “doctor’s appointment.”

“Oh,” you still weren’t looking at him, but at this pebble on their doormat, which was clearly very interesting, “I was supposed to come yesterday, but, uhm… never mind. I’ll just grab my—”

“You’re doing the can thing, right? Like, you’re collecting them to exchange at the corner store? I know about it.”

For some reason, your mind immediately lurched to that rainy morning about two weeks ago, when you were caked with mud and humidity from slipping around in that stupid ditch, rather than the far more logical answer of Jennie simply telling him you were collecting cans because they were siblings and lived together.

Joshua opened the door wider, “she has them in a bag somewhere. I can go look for it—uh, come in, if you want.”

Of course, sweet Joshua would never let you stand outside where it was slightly too windy and slightly too sunny and slightly too fragrant because of the lilac pots beside the front door. You definitely weren’t overthinking that gesture at all, and your mind was definitely working exactly as it should. So, you slipped off your sneakers and took a seat on the couch, waiting in complete, stifling silence as Joshua disappeared into the house. You got so nervous and fidgety that you rearranged the coasters on the coffee table and used the shiny edge of the fake fruit bowl to check your reflection.

Not long after that, Joshua came back to the living room.

“Hey, I’m sorry but I can’t find where she keeps that bag. I checked the garage and everything. You should phone her.”

“No, that’s alright. I’ll just come back next week.”

Honestly, you didn’t want this to be it. Gosh, you’d daydreamed so many different scenarios in which you were alone with Joshua, exactly what you’d say to him, how you’d laugh, and, oh—maybe you’d playfully bump his shoulder, or accidentally brush his hand, and the touch would create this insatiable, romantic spark between you and—all of those things seemed impossible.

As you bent down to re-tie your shoes, Joshua stopped you.

He then walked over to their fridge and pulled out a can.

“Cream soda,” the boy shrugged, “I mean, once you drink it, it’ll be empty and you’ll have a can for your… can thing.”

He tossed the soda to you, which you almost didn’t catch because it immediately slipped between your fingers, but somewhere along the struggle it managed safely into your hand.

“It’s cold,” you said, a very dumb observation to point out.

Joshua opened the front door. And then he smiled at you—just, a dazzling smile, so soft but kind of teasing and seraphic at the edges and made one-hundred percent worse by his lack of shirt.

“It was in the fridge, and fridges’ make things cold.”

The moment felt like it was too much. You were burning up, hardly even breathing as you slipped past him to hop outside and grab your bike off the garage door. That smile, those eyes, his voice, it was all you thought about during the ride home, feeling the sun kiss the back of your neck and imagining the warmth as Joshua.

You didn’t even use the can for your exchange.

Instead, you kept it beside the last one he’d given you.

15.

Unironically so, the day had just started and it was already shaping up to be one of the worst yet, even worse than the time you got stuck in that child’s swing at the park and lost your shorts trying to wriggle out of it. At least you could partially hide the water-lined eyes and trembling lip by stepping as far into your locker as possible, but that wasn’t going to save you from the bell.

That first physics test had kicked your ass. 

Sure, you wasted last Saturday cleaning out and redesigning your entire room, and maybe you could have stayed home Monday night instead of going to the Laser Tag Center with Jennie, but you still studied. And you still got a whopping fifty-four percent. To make matters worse, this tumultuous feeling had been sitting in your abdomen since breakfast, a twisty type sensation, like someone was squeezing your insides using their fist. It made you sweaty hot, and then colder than ice, and at one point you swore something fucking trickled out of your body when you sneezed on the bus.

Great, just great.

Bad grades, possibly poisoned, holding back a meltdown—it would have been the complete trifecta of misfortune and general misery.

But it became more of a “quad-fecta” when you glanced down the hall.

Joshua was poised at his locker, talking to Hansol, with his arm lounged comfortably around Elsie Boulger’s waist, the autumn-haired sweetheart of his grade whom everyone only had wonderful things to say about. They were laughing, and Joshua suddenly nudged Elsie in closer against his side to pop a kiss on her cheek. You didn’t want to be jealous, because jealously felt awful, like something icky and slimy crawling around in your gut that you wanted to throw up. Jennie said that Elsie was cool, and inspirational (whatever that meant), and that she smelled of a juicy, clean citrus.

Maybe Jennie was in love with her too.

It seemed like the whole world was in love with her.

Or maybe it just felt like that because Joshua had been making an increasingly bigger impression on you as a person.

He sort of became your world.

When the bell to second period started clanging, you made a snap decision to skip and escape into the music room, which was always open and empty at that time anyways. You melted into the first chair you saw. The lights were off, and everything was pleasantly dark in a way that made you feel invisible. No one could hear you snivelling or see those thick blobs of tears on your cheeks, and it occurred to you that this room was a lot more enjoyable when there were no freshman screaming through their trombones.

But then you spotted a silhouette outside the door. Your first thought was that someone had squealed on you, and now a teacher had sought to find the juvenile foolish enough to skip Careers of all courses and send them straight to detention. God, what a shitty day.

Except… oh no, Joshua.

There was nothing you could do to hide. Was he better or worse than a teacher? You didn’t know. Neither had seen you cry, and like he’d even want to console you when you’d just shoved a tissue up your nose and tears were dribbling off your chin.

“…Uh, are you oka—”

“I’m fine,” you cut him off to save the awkward space.

Joshua tilted his head, clearly not believing you because the evidence was sitting right in front of him, pretty damning.

“Well, not to be rude, but I think that’s a lie. And—” he let the backpack slide off his shoulder, “you’re sitting in the dark. I suppose if I turned this light on, you’d want to rip my face off.”

Dabbing the crumpled tissue under your nose, you laughed half-heartedly. You were surprised he was even tolerating you.

“Something like that.”

“Can I sit next to you?”

A pulse of energy shot straight into your chest.

“Why? Don’t you have class?”

He snickered, “don’t you? This is my spare, and the only acoustic guitar in the whole school is sitting in here.”

“… I excused myself,” you tucked your knees close together, and tipped your head to the chair on your right, “you can sit there.”

This was abnormal. This was electric. This was… almost too good to be true. Why should Joshua want anything to do with the girl who probably annoyed him each time she was over at his house, taking up the couch and always giggling at the top of her lungs and drinking all his cream soda? You weren’t really friends, but it could be considered more than acquaintances—enough for Joshua to drop into the seat beside you and then proceed to edge closer.

Rubbing a palm underneath your eye, you heaved in a big breath and sighed out, “I failed my first physics test. I failed it.”

Joshua pulled one foot onto the edge of his chair to tie his shoe, and you watched him shove the loose ends down his ankle.

“Almost everyone fails that test,” he said, “no one really takes it seriously, no one studies, and about four people drop. Guaranteed.”

You swallowed. There was that obnoxious rush of heat again.

“If it makes you feel any better, I got a sixty.”

“Joshua—” your voice wobbled, another tear wetting your cheek, “I got a fifty-four. And you were probably way smarter than me!”

Despite his innocent intentions, that comment did nothing but take any ashes of, ‘it’s not so bad’ and blow them into a wispy scattered dust. Leaning over into your hands, an emotional torrent gushed through you, unlike anything you’d experienced before. It wasn’t doing you any good to keep sitting here. Maybe outside would be better. Some fresh air to get your endorphins buzzing.

Once you got up, so did Joshua.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he stumbled, “I wasn’t trying to be a jerk.”

“I know, I know. I’m just having a crappy day. I mean, obviously. Everything is all over the place and I would so rather be at home crying than here.”

Joshua nodded, his eyes seeming glittery and sympathetic.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make you feel better. I thought having a little sister would make me good at that stuff, but Jennie is like a honey badger when she’s upset. No one can get near her.”

You laughed, and it cleared the weight in your throat. But, laughing also triggered that same trickling sensation you experienced earlier while sitting on the bus. And it wasn’t a little trickle, it felt like it was flowing and—what the hell, this? Of all fucking days, of all moments, your body decided now was the perfect time to get its first period. No wonder you were a mess with icy fingers and toes but a shiny sweat down your back. No wonder you couldn’t handle even the tiniest bit of pressure or stress without feeling like a being made from porcelain glass.

And why the hell did you decide to wear light blue jeans. They were in the laundry hamper and you still pulled them out because the black ones didn’t suit your top the way you wanted. 

That moon-eyed look on your face was as good an indication as any something had happened, if the firmness that had planted itself into your body wasn’t already noticeable. Joshua chuckled a little, most likely confused by your comportment.

“What’s happening? Do you need me to—”

“This is…” you heaved through your teeth, “the worst…”

He tilted his head and pursed his bottom lip.

“Seriously, if you need to go home, or— if you need a ride or anything like that, I’m okay with it. Like I said, I’ve got a spare, so…”

Your gaze wandered back to his face, prompting Joshua to shift his weight from right foot to left as you stared almost through him, like he was a piece of plastic. Even if it was tempting, you couldn’t just whip out the door with that blood staining your pants, because the way your luck was going, someone would step right behind you and how could they not notice a gigantic red patch—Oh my god! There’s something wrong with this girl’s pants!—which would undoubtedly cue everyone rushing out to see you humiliatingly crumble.

You swallowed, fumbled with your fingers, only for Joshua to bite his lip.

“Did something else happen today?”

“Yeah,” you answered, sucking in sharply, “but, I’m not sure if I can… I just don’t want to—Joshua, I—I think I just got my period…”

He was quiet at first, and that small gap between his mouth pressed shut. You were even more rigid than before, almost quivering, and it was quickly dawning on you that maybe he didn’t want to hear about your body and how it was literally leaking blood.

“Oh, that’s it?” Joshua exhaled, almost seeming… relieved?

Were you hearing things correctly?

“I thought you were gonna like, confess to a crime or something,” the boy then rubbed his neck, laughing, “jeez, you were scaring me a bit—but, uh, okay, you’ve got your period, unexpectedly I’m guessing. Have you got any pads or tampons? Or spare cloths?”

“N-No, I—” your unstable emotions, they were spilling all over again and closing up your throat and thickening your voice, “I don’t have those. I-I don’t know what to do. It’s bleeding through.”

He flitted you a careful smile, passing his hand up and down your arm for a moment, “hey, it’s alright. Just relax. Why don’t you stay here, and I’ll grab Jennie from class? She always keeps stuff like that in her locker. Here—” Joshua then wriggled off the black windbreaker he was wearing, “tie this around your waist.”

You sniffled, biting the inside of your cheek before you accepted the jacket, still feeling uncertain despite his hospitality.

“Are you sure I can use this?”

Joshua was already picking up his knapsack from the floor, slinging it over his shoulder while he nodded his compliance.

“Yeah, I can get it back later. I won’t be long, okay?”

“Okay.”

He flashed you another smile, and then slipped out the heavy door which closed with a metal squeal, narrowing the ray of light that had split across the tiles. You breathed out shakily, nose still somewhat runny and your eyes bleary, as you tied the windbreaker tight around your waist. That day was officially awful, you were certain of it, though Joshua had managed to make things a little less messy, and while it could have just been the influx of hormones twisting in your abdomen that influenced your thoughts, you were starting to really, really like him. More than what it was before.

This spark you had—it was growing.

It was turning into something much bigger than attraction.

You hauled the smooth blanket up to your chin, making no move to help as Jennie crouched by the system box underneath the television. She was trying to figure out something technical, which involved pushing random buttons and clicking her remote every time the screen flickered. It wasn’t like you knew the television any better than she did, so you settled back against the couch, throwing cheeze-it’s into the air and poking out your tongue to catch them.

“This is all Josh’s fault,” she grumbled, wiping her hands along her pants, “he always screws up the settings to play video games, and never bothers to switch anything back.”

“I thought your mom made him draw up an instruction card thingy on how to fix all that,” you answered, flicking another cheeze-it into the air, “don’t tell me you lost it already?”

“He was the one who lost it.”

“Okay, so let’s just ask him what to—”

Jennie held out the remote after tampering with the system box for the umpteenth time, and the television blipped, revealing the proper screen with the little sparkling logo. She nearly sent the remote flying from her hand when she hopped up triumphantly.

“Or, I’ll fix it,” Jennie smiled, jabbing a thumb at herself, “I’m clearly not the most tech-savvy person—and that’s probably why I kept hitting the applause sound affect during the funeral scene at our school’s last play—but I do know my way around some things… even if it took me…”

You checked your phone, “fifteen minutes?”

Tossing the remote onto the couch, Jennie laughed, and remembered to grab her bowl of party-mix off the floor (with everything but the baby breadsticks included because she always said they were most useless part of the snack). You were supposed to watch this movie for your English class, though you couldn’t even remember the name, something about a vendetta. However, before the introduction scene could even play, the door squeaked at the top of the stairs and Jennie immediately pressed pause, groaning.

Joshua bounced off the last step, rubbing his hair.

“Don’t give me that look,” he nagged, “I’m not down here to bother you, I’m just looking for our soccer ball.”

“Well, chop chop. We need to watch this movie ASAP.” Jennie said, craning her neck around to glare at Joshua as he rifled through some storage bins shoved near the basement corner.

“Yeah,” you agreed (not really, but only to back up Jennie), and stuck out your tongue, “you’re making a lotta noise, too.”

“I can’t be any quieter than this,” Joshua responded, taking off another storage lid to sort through the contents, “I still have all my notes from that movie, y’know? Not that I’d give them to you.”

“That’s why I didn’t bother asking,” Jennie retorted through a mouthful of party mix, “I jusfftt knew you’d be a dick about it.”

Finally, Joshua dug out his soccer ball.

“Does mom know you swear like that?” He smirked.

“Does mom know you lied about staying over at Hansol’s last Friday so you could actually meet Elsie at some stupid party?”

The boy stiffened, meanwhile Jennie gave him a falsely sweet grin, dropping another handful of snacks into her mouth.

“I literally payed you to keep quiet about that.”

“Oh, pfft—five bucks! Thanks Mr. Charity.”

You weren’t entirely sure if you were supposed to be hearing this conversation, though neither Jennie or Joshua seemed concerned about your presence. It’s not like you would tell, anyways, and you already knew Jennie had quite the fair share of secrets up her sleeve that she’d convinced Joshua to keep.

“This conversation is over,” Joshua stated with a smile, snapping the lid back onto the storage bin, “oh, and—” he then pointed his finger at you, “I know you won’t say anything, but pretend you didn’t hear about the party. Seriously. I’d be screwed.”

“Okay,” you gave him a reassuring nod, “I promise.”

Joshua positioned the soccer ball under his arm and ran upstairs, to which you heard him softly click the door shut. The moment he was gone, Jennie’s head slumped back into the couch.

“I sense that he’s got a dangerous influence on you.”

“He doesn’t,” you giggled, whacking Jennie harmlessly on her shoulder, “now, just start the movie before I fall asleep.”

“Fine,” the girl huffed, sticking out the remote and clicking resume, though you didn’t miss how her eyes remained on you for that extra breadth of a second, like she had questioned your answer.

You lied, of course. Joshua did have an influence on you.

But you didn’t think it was dangerous.

A few weeks later.

“Ow!”

Pulling the wooden spoon out from the pot, you shot a scornful look over your shoulder, realizing that it was Joshua who’d just bumped the top of your head with the ladle in his hand. You couldn’t help the harsh expression flickering into a wide smile.

“How’s the sauce? Is it almost done?” He asked impatiently, coming to stand beside you at the burner while breathing in the flavourful smells, wafting up and sizzling from the pot.

You sighed, shaking your head.

“It’s getting there, alright? I’m just stirring it for as long as Jennie told me to. She’s the one who knows this recipe.”

However, it seemed like Joshua wasn’t absorbing a word you’d said, rather he dipped his ladle into the sauce and stole a small amount to drink. You screeched at him, switching the spoon to your latter hand while the other just grazed his shoulder. He’d escaped to behind the kitchen island, continuing to blow at the thick sauce.

“No tasting until it’s done!” You laughed, wanting to sound as serious as possible, but utterly failing because it was Joshua.

“Too late,” the boy replied, licking at his index finger where he made a bit of a spill, “I already tasted it. Sucks to suck.”

Reaching out to the dial, you turned the heat down a little more until the sauce frothed a quiet, bubbling simmer. There was a towel next to the stove that you grabbed, using it to wipe a pretend smudge off your hands, though you lashed it across the island to nip Joshua on the chest, which had been your intent from the start.

“Well,” your arms folded, “since you betrayed my trust and tasted the sauce anyways, what do you think? Missing anything?”

Joshua leaned to the right, tossing the ladle into the sink.

“Don’t think so, but I’m also too hungry to care ‘n—hey, is anyone gonna start making the pasta?” He came to your side of the counter and poked at the rolling machine used to thin the sheets.

You leaned a palm into your cheek, “Jennie said she was gonna start, but then one of our friends rang her up, saying they desperately needed her notes for our English essay. She’s been upstairs for like, almost half an hour. D’you know how?”

He straightened his back, “how to make pasta? Uh…” he flicked the handle on the machine, watching it spin, “I haven’t done it in a while, but I don’t think it’s hard. We just need—” Joshua suddenly spun around, opening the fridge and then delving into another drawer, “eggs, some flour, salt, and, olive oil, I think.”

“Oh, so you’re going to make it?”

Joshua smiled as he organized the ingredients on the island and cuffed up his sleeves, “it’s not that I didn’t want to help. Jennie told me to stay out of the kitchen. But, she’s not here right now.”

Chuckling, your eyes danced after Joshua as he moved over to the sink, switching on the water and cleaning his hands.

“Why’s that? Are you secretly a fire hazard?”

“No, she said I’m a distraction,” he scoffed, using quoted fingers and heightening the sound of his voice to mimic his sister.  

“Really? A distraction?”

You twisted your body to follow Joshua’s every movement, watching as he opened the door to a small broom closet in order to grab an apron hanging off a hook. He nodded his head.

“I find that hard to believe. Jennie’s pretty good at blocking you out, and, well, she’s had lots of practice at it.”

Joshua pursed his lips, blowing at some loose, black hairs that had shifted over his forehead. As he was tying the strings behind him, the boy glanced up, catching your gaze for a very brief, peculiar second before he was back at the island, measuring out the flour.

“Um, yeah…” he exhaled, “she said I’d be distracting you.”

At that, you froze. Even the dreamy smile that was constantly stretching wider and wider from one corner of your lip to the other had flattened, meanwhile Joshua was already concentrated on patting the flour into a bowl shape that would support the eggs. As if directly on cue, the sauce left to simmer in the pot changed from pleasant herbs and garlic to something a bit too crispy and… burnt.

“Shit,” you coughed under your breath, quickly removing the pot off the stove and giving the sauce a thorough stir.

“I think you’re the fire hazard,” Joshua softly laughed from behind, pushing and kneading the sticky clump in his hands.

As much as you hated admitting it, Jennie had been right.

You needed to get these feelings more under control.

Later in the evening, it was almost supper time. The ribs had just finished brazing in the oven, and the pasta that Joshua went through immense effort to make (as detailed by the speckles of flour on his cheeks and the hairband he borrowed from Jennie to keep his hair pushed back) had been strained and deliciously buttered up.

Joshua whizzed by you in the corridor, still dressed in the apron as though he were orchestrating his own restaurant.

“There’s a little something on your face!” You called out to him, each word clearly sung by a much too happy smile.

“I realize that!” He shouted from inside the washroom, and you heard the sound of water gushing into the sink.

“Oh—” their mom caught you in the hallway, one hand occupied by the sauce pot and the other with a bread plate, “I’m sure I just heard a knock at the door. Do you mind getting it, dear? This sauce is superbly warm and kind of burning me right now.”

“Yeah, sure thing. Please don’t drop it!” You giggled while rushing toward the main entrance, “I worked so hard on it!”

Jennie popped up from the basement, heaving hard and dragging an extra chair as she sighed, “y’mean, you stirred it.”

“Close enough.”

Honestly, you’d never been more excited to eat. When you first began staying the night at Jennie’s house, family dinners terrified you, and no one could get you to speak more than a few words (which basically consisted of saying yes or no to seconds or dessert). But Jennie had been your best friend for a long time now, and her family seemed to adore you like a daughter. Yet, the second you’d pulled open the front door, all that energy and luminance drained from your body so quickly it was almost disorienting.

You were standing face to face with Elsie Bolger. She practically beamed upon greeting you, and presented a glass bowl that was sealed with a plastic film. Inside, you were sure there was strawberries and sliced-up bits of yellow cake.

“Elsie?!” Jennie poked her head around the corner, “oh my gosh! I totally forgot you were coming! I’m such an idiot. I’ll get another chair!”

“Oh, it’s no worry at all,” Elsie assured, “I brought something for you guys, it’s a dessert my mom makes.”

At this point, everyone except for Joshua had filed into the main living area. Jennie’s father took her jacket while their mother accepted the bowl. For some reason, Jennie handed Elsie a fork.

“That’s the special fork,” she said, “the last prong sticks out weird. I think it’s finally your time to use our most sacred utensil.”

God, that stupid fork—you briefly recalled the memory of Jennie almost squashing Joshua down onto the floor a few years ago, simply because he’d managed to swipe it before her.

“You used it last time!”

“That didn’t count!”

“What do y’mean it didn’t count?!”

“Just give me the fork, Jennifer!”

“Ow! Mooommmm! Joshua just punched me in the boob!”

“No I didn’t—my hand—you—you’re such a liar! Mom, she’s lying!”

Jennie actually had lied, though she believed it was a justified lie considering her brother had just called her Jennifer, which was a bridge no one should cross. You were glad that era was over and done with.

“Uh, thanks, Jennie,” Elsie smiled, ruffling the girl’s hair, “and, as I was saying about the dessert—it’s like a strawberry shortcake thing. It has strawberries of course,” she paused to laugh nervously, “angel food cake, and this homemade custard.”

“It looks so freakin’ good,” Jennie salivated.

Her mother lit up in an appreciative smile, “that’s wonderful, thank you so much. Joshua’s just cleaning up—he’ll be out soon!”

“Oh, perfect,” Elsie stuttered a sigh of relief, “I’m ready to eat.”

In that moment, you weren’t sure what you despised more—the half of yourself that wished Elsie had never showed up, or the crushing amount of internal guilt that felt like it was going to destroy you for being so… jealous. Elsie was clearly nervous, and sweeter than sugar, and there was no plausible reason to treat her coldly.

“Is this your first dinner?” You asked her on everyone’s way to the dining room.

“My second,” she said thickly, “I’m not very good at this stuff.”

“It’s okay. Jennie and I will try to steal all the questions, so you can just relax and eat. It’s gonna be really tasty, I promise.”

She looked at you gratefully, “that would be amazing.”

It wasn’t long until Joshua entered the dining room before everyone settled down to pass out plates. You didn’t want to stare, but at the same time, you were itching to watch as Joshua rested his arm around Elsie’s waist and pulled her in for a light kiss as well as a whisper, probably something to ease her nerves. He hadn’t taken off Jennie’s hairband yet, to which Elsie pinched his cheek.

“I like this on you,” she cooed, “it lets us see that forehead.”

“Ah, it’s blinding!” Jennie teased, using her placemat to cover her eyes, “dear god, it’s been ages since it’s seen the daylight.”

However, Joshua pulled it out, giving his head a shake.

“I only wore it when I was making the pasta.”

Elsie raised a brow, her smile tiny but clearly impressed, “oh, you made something? Now I’m even more excited to eat.”

Joshua flushed, and suddenly, he was pointing at you.

“She made the sauce—”

“Ahem,” Jennie coughed into her fist, “she stirred the sauce.”

“Which has to be the most important part,” Joshua added, pulling out Elsie’s seat before taking his own, “critical, in fact.”

“Sorry,” you then whispered to Jennie, who gave your hand a gentle slap under the table as she shook her head lightheartedly.

Dinner went by in a flash—mostly because you hunkered down into the plate and gobbled everything like some neanderthal who’d been introduced to food for the first time. The sooner you finished, the sooner you could escape the table, as well as all the little laughs and sentimental gazes passed between Joshua and Elsie. Her dessert was delicious, but you ate that quickly too, crunching your hand fiercely around the napkin on your lap when Elsie grabbed Joshua’s face to swipe some custard off his lips. Clearing your plate before everyone else was somewhat awkward, though it gave you an excuse to wash up alone in the kitchen.

Afterward, you and Jennie went into her room. The girl collapsed onto her bed with a gigantic huff, groaning in delight about how stuffed she was as she stretched into a starfish. You took a seat at her desk chair, fiddling with some coloured pencils, trying to ignore the laugh you just heard echo from Joshua’s room, followed by a yelp that seemed to be abruptly silenced in the middle. Jennie shoved herself up.

“We can go the basement if y’want,” she offered, “that way we don’t have to hear their dumb playfighting. We can watch a movie. Or if you don’t want to do that, we can take out my paint set and do those Mandala rocks. My mom said she really wants more for the back porch.”

You didn’t respond right away, instead rolling a sky-blue pencil under your palm until it slipped out onto the floor.

“How serious do you think they are?”

Jennie scrunched her nose, “what?”

“I mean your brother, and Elsie,” you winced, sensing how dramatically your stomach had bloated when you bent down to pick up the pencil, “does it seem like they’re super serious?”

“Serious how? Like, I-love-you serious? That’s the only serious I know. Unless you’re asking if they… if they like—if they’re—y’know, doing the thing. Because I have no idea and I really don’t want to know—”

“Never mind—stupid question. Forget I asked.”

Bringing a palm up to your chin, your eyes fluttered to Jennie’s windowsill, decorated with an assortment of different rocks she’d been collecting from her trips to the science museum—pink, sparkly granites that looked like hardened sugar and the tiniest angelite stones, which were an ashy sort of blue. Joshua once told you they were candy and tried to get you to bite one (which you might have done if Jennie didn’t burst in). Then, the watercolour paintings she’d taped over the glass. Your favourite was the butterfly with holographic glitter wings. It stained her floor in an opal tint whenever the sun shone through. Joshua always hated it, because he said he found sparkles all over the house for weeks after she’d finished, even in his backpack and on his pillow.

Jennie rubbed her neck, her face soft and sleepy.

“Can you be honest? I have to ask something.”

Swivelling in the chair, your toes curled, and you nodded.

“Do you like J—”

At random, Joshua threw open the door and came into the bedroom. 

“Jesus Chr-crickets! Gosh, can you knock?!” Jennie shouted, shuffling up hurriedly on the forest colours of her bedsheets.

“I did.”

“No, you didn’t!”

“Not my fault you didn’t hear it.”

Jennie lopped her head back and groaned.

“You’re so—you’re just so—,” she crumpled her hands together as though she were imagining her brother’s head as a squishy grape, “—bleck! I don’t even have the words. What do you want, anyways?”

Twisting in the chair, you noticed Joshua holding onto a cream soda and a squishy packet of blue raspberry  juice that he tossed to his sister. You couldn’t tell if it was obvious or if you’d been intentionally searching for anything odd, but his hair seemed messier, with strands flicked out all over his head, and you were certain Joshua was hiding something when he pulled at the collar of his shirt.

“Mom just wanted me to bring you guys drinks.”

Jennie jammed the straw into her juice.

“Was this the last blue raspberry?”

“I think so—don’t even think about taking the cherry.”

“Woah, I’m not!” Jennie lifted her hand defensively. “Slow your roll, idiot. The cherry tastes like medicine, anyways. You can have it.”

He merely furrowed his brow at the girl before turning to you, sticking out the can of cream soda. Jennie sunk into her pillow with her head propped up, sipping loudly at her juice and narrowing her eyes.

“How come she gets your stupid cream soda? Where’s my cream soda privileges? I’m your blood. I bet you don’t even let Elsie have any.”

Joshua looked like he might snap, “can you shut—”

“It’s okay,” you interrupted, “I’m not thirsty.”

If you were anyone else, it wouldn’t have been a big, dramatic deal to decline wanting a soda, but you knew it would definitely seem questionable and possibly hostile and cultivate the weirdest tension because you always accepted it whenever Joshua offered. Even Jennie was shocked, lifting herself off the pillow to stare at you in confusion, meanwhile Joshua had actually flinched, his head leaning to the side limply as though you’d just uttered some alien dialect.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“Elsie still collects for the recyclable can drive, right? You should give it to her. I can always come down later and get a water.”

Joshua breathed out sharply through his nose.

“I’ll just put it back in the fridge,” he said, almost stuttering in his movement when he turned around, trying to compute the situation.

As soon as the door closed, Jennie cackled.

“Did you break him or something?”

16.

You whacked the tip of your shoe into a pebble, struggling to track its explosive path down the sidewalk until you decided it was lost for good. But now you wanted something else to kick. Chiefly because you were frustrated. And moody. And hating the supposedly celebratory milestone that was turning sixteen. You didn’t exactly know where you stood in all the changes. Everyone around you seemed to be morphing akin to tree leaves in the midst of autumn, though you felt somewhat like a crinkled, dry leaf—one that always got stepped on just to hear the crack.

And maybe that was normal.

Maybe everyone was experiencing the same sentiments beneath all their new personalities. Except, you didn’t know who to approach or how to express this. Jennie had made friends with these two girls from her health class, and it wasn’t like she’d forgot about you, but there was something to note about how she was suddenly into white-gel tips and miniskirts and drinking an almost obsessive amount of caffeine when she used to express how much she hated all of those things combined. 

If you were to be completely candour, you missed how she was before. Jennie loved critiquing movies and painting in watercolour and could never keep a polished manicure because she loved turning up rocks or bark to catch beetles and frogs. You missed that girl so much.

But, had you changed too? Without being conscience of it?

Folding your arms tightly, you were on the cusp of punting another rock into the sun itself when a silver car pulled in close to the curb, maintaining a barely-there pace to keep in tune with your walking.

The passenger window rolled down.

“Hey!” He called from inside, stretching his neck over while flittering his focus between you and the road, “want a ride home?”

Even worse—you still hadn’t gotten over Joshua. He was eighteen now, less gawky, more piercings, a voice that was smoother than butter, but the same pair of eyes that were deep and calm and undeniably heart aching. His relationship with Elsie was rather intact. You saw them kiss every morning before slipping into your calculus class, and it was only yesterday that you’d been seated behind them during the school’s monthly assembly, a bitter taste in your mouth whenever she leaned into his side to whisper or giggle. He even slipped her an earbud so they could listen to his music instead of the principal’s boring, monotone speech.

When you didn’t respond to him, Joshua cleared his throat.

“Just—I know you don’t always take the bus, and Jennie went home with Marina, and—” his eyes shot back to the road, narrowly avoiding a pothole before he straightened the car again, “um, as I was saying, I can drop you off at home. I don’t have guitar today.”

You kept nibbling a sore patch on your bottom lip, trying inconceivably hard to pretend he wasn’t there. It was for his own good, honestly. One slip-up and your anger would pull you under.

He continued steering the wheel with one hand, the other resting almost irritably against the top of his backward baseball cap. He sighed.

“Okay, I can understand ignoring Jennie, but what did I do?”

Still, nothing.

“You’re making me look like an idiot.”

That one almost got you to smile.

“Or some weirdo who’s trying to seduce you into his car. Please, I’ve gotten the silent treatment before, and it fucking sucks. Especially when I don’t know what I did. If you don’t want a ride then—”

You finally slapped your fingers onto the handle and pulled the door open with a gigantic huff, to which Joshua stopped the car. He watched you collapse into the passenger seat, maneuvering your bag to your lap while you pressed your shoes to his dashboard. Neither of you uttered a word as he steered away from the curb. While Joshua allowed the wheel glide under his palm, he shot you a speculative glance through the rear-view mirror, teeth sunk into his lip like he was contemplating.

But then a minute or so passed, with the boy drumming his hands restlessly at the stop light, and you knew he’d ask regardless.

“Did you have a bad day?”

The silence stretched itself thinner.

“Look, that’s understandable. I can get not wanting to talk as well. I’m only being annoying ‘cause I care, actually.”

Your head tilted in the direction of the window.

“I know I’m not the first person you’d run to with all your problems, so I won’t ask you to spill them. But I’m not completely useless when it comes to advice n’ all that. I’ve gotten way better at it.”

He eased his foot over the gas pedal as the light changed. And you heard him chuckle before heaving a sigh of disbelief.

“I guess I’m not gonna get one word out—”

“You know what I don’t get?” Slipping your shoes off the dashboard, you shuffled up in the chair and rolled the window further down, feeling a gentle breeze massage the edges of your face, “I don’t get why everyone is being so fucking insufferable. Like, everyone. Even my teachers. I’m on the verge of failing calculus right now, just because Mrs. Panek is so awful at teaching. She boasts about her low class averages like it’s something to be proud of. She only pays attention to the geniuses, thinks everyone else isn’t trying hard enough.

Oh, and it makes me so mad whenever Jennie blows me off to hang out with Marina. Like, it was literally just a few months ago when she told me she loves laser tag, but suddenly it’s not her anymore, and now she’d rather fucking blaze with Marina in the washroom before class and talk about how hot her art teacher is. I mean, she used to like slasher films and stupid crystals and weird, nerdy science-y stuff which makes me think Marina’s brainwashed her. And if I have to see that one couple shove their tongues down each other’s throats on the stairway right outside the library one more time—I’m gonna fucking lose it! You didn’t just get your hormones yesterday! I’m so sick of—of everyone!

But then I’m confused too. About myself. It’s been fifty-one days since my last period. I was so scared, I bought a pregnancy test, even though I’ve never even had a boyfriend. Can you believe that? And I can’t even change comfortably in the locker room now since some girl made fun of the fact that my bra is like—it basically looks like a middle-aged woman’s bra, but I just wear them because of comfortability, y’know? But the funny thing was, that got to me, so I bought a new bra, and it’s so stupidly itchy. I’m wearing it right now and my chest feels like it’s gonna burn to bits if I scratch it again—”

You slipped a hand up the back of your shirt, undoing the clasp to the undergarment, which you squirmed off and threw out the window.

Sucking in a long, quivering breath, you felt the heat tingle across your face and melt your cheeks. With an elbow digging into the car, you rubbed two fingers against your temple, which was now pounding terribly as though someone had clocked it using their fist. A salty taste hit your tongue, and you realized that a few tears had trickled down to your jaw during the rant—that Joshua had pulled his car into the empty lot just beside the lake, overlooking the stillness of the water.

And that’s when you tightened every bone in your body, twisting your head around painfully slow to gauge his expression.

But he didn’t appear anything other than relaxed.

“W-What’s wrong w’you?” Came your very slurred, clogged-with-emotion question. “You should be telling me to get out.”

Joshua huffed, furrowing his brow.

“You’re asking me to punish you for feeling like a teenager?” He pulled up his knee, extending his elbow across it. “Why the hell would I do that? You clearly had some stuff building up.”

“I basically cursed out your sister. And I just threw my own bra out the window—there’s no way you should be calm about this. ”

He rolled his shoulders in a shrug.

“She’s not exempt from criticism. Just because she’s your best friend and my sister, doesn’t mean we have to like her all the time. And, yeah, can’t say I was expecting that. But now you’re not itchy and uncomfortable and shit, right? I’d probably do the same.”

Turning back to the window, you sought for the breeze and sunshine, closing your eyes wetly and inhaling deep. Joshua was right, you were merely human, and sometimes things irritated you. And like anybody else, you let them accumulate and fester and take up space in your chest where you were supposed to feel weightless.

“Well…” you exhaled, flicking the zipper on your backpack, “at least I’m not pregnant. I really thought, maybe I was… I dunno.”

Joshua groaned as he stretched an elbow behind his head.

“It’s probably stress. You should talk to your doctor.”

“I really just feel like falling into a hole, if I’m honest.”

He smiled at you, “want to do something?”

“Like what?” You responded tentatively.

Without bothering to elaborate, Joshua kicked open his door and whipped it shut before proceeding to your side of the car. He folded his arms on the open window, causing you to move back ever so slightly because he didn’t seem to care about how closely he leaned forward—you just knew there was a dangerous spike in your heartbeat when his gaze ensnared your own, almost pulling you into his warmth like a riptide.

“Get out,” he said, smirking, “and I’ll show you.”

And that’s when you remembered: Joshua was oddly exceptional at skipping stones. You followed him down to the rocky shoreline, in which he politely extended his hand for you to grab when you nearly face-planted your way to the water instead. He instructed you to start collecting stones that were tiny, flat, and smooth, which you organized into a pile beside your shoe. At first, you let Joshua demonstrate, closely monitoring his stance whenever his wrist sharply flicked and the stone would practically bounce its way across the calm sheets of water, leaving the neatest ripples to disrupt the surface, almost hypnotic.

“I’m not going to be good at this,” you told him.

He shook his head.

“Not about being good or bad. It’s just, a mindless task, something to relax you. Or, think of the rocks as your… problems, or—yeah, think of them as all these little irritations you just expressed to me, and each time you throw a rock, you’re getting rid of some stress.”

You breathed out hopelessly, wearing a flustered smile.

“Fine. Who knew you were so full of wisdom?”

“Wisdom is one of my many attributes,” Joshua grinned, sending another rock to dance across the water, “as you’re just understanding.”

Picking up a round, purplish stone, you flipped it between your fingers, getting a feel for its weight and texture.

“Well, doesn’t that also mean you’re getting older?”

“Nah, I think I’ll stay forever young. Isn’t that a super power?”

“No, that’s like flight and stuff. Invisibility. Heat vision—”

“Oh!” He snapped his fingers at you, “heat vision—I want that.”

“Why?”

“Because you can like, burn stuff with your eyeballs. It’s in the name. I’m guessing you didn’t watch a lot of cartoons.”

“No, I did,” you laughed, “it’s just that, heat vision isn’t usually what people would pick. Like, it’s not the first thing in their minds, y’know?”

“Okay. So then tell me what you’d want.”

“Um... flighhh—no! Actually, telekinesis.”

“Oh, so mind-reading?”

“Why’d you say it like that?”

“Like what?”

“You said it so disappointedly.”

“No, I didn—you’re just wasting time so you don’t have to skip that rock in your hand. It’s easy once you get the hang of it. Try it, at least.”

Of course, you weren’t expecting much from your first throw. It vanished straight through the surface in a depressing plonk. You weren’t sure if he was mocking you, but Joshua tossed his rock next, accomplishing three perfect skips before it bubbled under the water. He retreated a few steps back, rolling up his sleeves and scanning the shore for another suitable rock. Your eyes drifted after the boy like they were attached by a lure. Everything he did felt necessary and gentle.

“What if I can’t get it to skip even once?” You complained.

The next attempt didn’t fare any better, and served to prove your point. That’s when Joshua decided to hand you his next rock.

“I can show you again,” he offered.

You broke into laughter, “I’m standing exactly like you stood!”

“No, I’ll guide you, is what I mean.”

At first, you were still a little hazy on what he intended to do, but then you immediately understood the very second Joshua moved behind you, and every single nerve in your body had positively lit up like the flashing lights on a pinball machine. For some embarrassing reason, you couldn’t calm down no matter how slowly you breathed, and this visible shudder wracked down your spine as Joshua pressed himself against you and slid his fingers to your wrist. His touch was like silk. His voice beside your ear was warm and delicate and you were burning ash. You didn’t process a word he’d softly spoken. You breathed in mint and aftershave.

In fact, when he helped to guide the angle of your wrist and the stone made one very prominent hop across the river, you hardly noticed.

Because then Joshua had squeezed your waist with both his hands, giving you an excited, innocent shake. For you, your world nearly went black. It was merely a teaspoon of what it could be like to have a relationship with him, and it was intoxicating you dauntingly fast.

“—told you it wasn’t that hard!”

He was away from your backside, already picking some more stones into his palm when you caught the end of his exclamation.

“W-Well, you helped…”

Dammit—you sounded so stupidly breathless—

“Just do as I showed you, n’ you’ll be stress free in no time.”

But little did he know, you’d already forgotten all about that wild rant in the car. Now, your mind couldn’t conjure up any sort of thought other than what it would be like to know Joshua the way Elsie did—to whisper in his ear and kiss the edges of his kitten mouth and nuzzle your head into his shoulder while you listened to his music. To constantly breathe in his scent and feel his hands anywhere you desired. He mumbled something else to you, though you didn’t quite catch it.

You were floating far too high.

Rather than home, Joshua drove you back to his house. He’d told you his parents were going to be out late for a business dinner and you already knew Jennie was staying the night at Marina’s—not that one single part of you cared. Spending time with him was better than heating up some artificial, frozen dinner in the microwave while you waited in tears for your mom to return from her placement in the city.

Joshua toasted a sandwich for you, and you observed him with adoring eyes as he busied himself about the kitchen, washing and slicing the ingredients. He set the plate down in front of you, then filled up a glass with some juice.

“No cream soda today,” he frowned, reading the large bottle of juice, “Ocean Spray’s the special…. uh, Very Berry or something like that, with no artificial flavours or colours.”

“You’re such a restauranteur,” you laughed, forcibly stopping your feet from swinging under the island like a giddy child waiting for their ice cream sundae. He excited you in ways that should be magic.

He flipped the dish towel over his shoulder and winked.

“I want all these compliments going into my tip, ma’am.”

Joshua settled with leftovers from the fridge. Neither of you really spoke while eating, but there was no pressure in the air that suggested you might need to—it was cool and quiet. The boy flicked through a few texts on his phone meanwhile you slumped back into the chair with a satisfied puff, one hand rubbing along your shoulder blade.

“Are you also a massage therapist by any chance?” You whined. “I have a knot like, right around here, and I can’t get it at all.”

He slurped some noodles into his mouth that had been hanging from his chopsticks, and swallowed with a peculiar smirk.

“Pushing your luck just a bit, aren’t you?”

You felt an invisible jab against your stomach.

“I am?”

But the boy just huffed, shaking his head.

And you that’s when you realized the jab against your stomach had actually been fear. Joshua had a girlfriend. Joshua was in a happy relationship, and just because he’d kindly comforted you didn’t mean it was deemed suitable to edge the situation beyond that. In that moment, you’d shrunk in shame. It had just been so… reassuring, and validating, to pretend this boy could be more than just the brother of your best friend who only looked out for you because it felt like an obligation.

You were about to apologize when Joshua beat you to speaking.

“D’you wanna go my room?” He asked.

Hardly able to breathe, you uttered out a very quiet okay.

Joshua didn’t close his door all the way, instead leaving it about a quarter open. You took a seat at his desk chair, hands folded in your lap.

His room hadn’t changed much over the years—the walls were still the same dark grey, there were more medals hanging above his bedframe and he’d taped up a few new posters, but he’d kept the lava lamp and his acrylic cube of the solar system. Teeth rubbed over your bottom lip as you watched Joshua pick his acoustic guitar off its stand in the corner. He returned to his bed, propping one leg on the edge.

“This is my favourite one to play,” Joshua said, plucking a few strings, the sound which resulted softly tuned and as pleasant as birdsong, “the wood’s Nordic cherry. It’s such a deep and rich colour, don’t y’think? I had the lacquer redone a few days ago.”

“It’s really pretty,” you agreed, keeping your feet on the floor.

He was tying together a song, swaying his body back and forth to match the gentle nature of each chord. There had been a number of school assemblies where they asked Joshua to play the guitar, mostly to accompany the choir or the band. You always thought he was the best part, even if you had to watch him from between heads and shoulders.

You were lucky enough to sit at the front one time. He’d frequently whisper to the percussion player whenever the principal was speaking (usually Hansol, who was either awkwardly holding his symbols or maracas or whatever instrument the conductor trusted him with), leaning over his guitar with his earbuds dangling out from under his collar. It had intrigued you to know what they were saying. And then there was the way he’d chuckle quietly to himself afterward, licking his lips and proceeding to put on a bored face as his eyes swept into the crowd. You assumed he must have been looking for Elsie.

“What d’you think of the melody?” Joshua asked.

Clearing your throat, you stated simply, “calm.”

“Right? I thought it would be nice to play something like this.”

You didn’t say anything more, but glanced down into your lap with a smile that was imploring to burst at the seams. It brought you to wonder why Joshua did the things he did for you—give you rides home when it would’ve been easier to breeze right by, submit his favourite drink again and again because there was something about the way you glowed when you had a cream soda in your hand. Lend you nothing but normalcy at times where you or your body felt nothing but normal, listening to all your quarrels about the confusion of growing up, feeding you dinner and reminding you of all the ways there was still tenderness and compassion waiting to smooth the soul of its roughness.

Tapping your ankles together, you mumbled his name.

Joshua lifted his hand from the guitar.

“I can’t hear you if you’re gonna whisper,” he said before slapping the spot beside him, “come here, right next to me. It’s fine.”

And so you rose up cautiously from the chair and took your place on his bed, sitting atop your hands to stop their apparent fidgeting. He strummed his guitar once, almost like a prelude to your demure smile.

“I just wanted to say thank you.”

Joshua looked at you, raising his brow.

You shifted again, sucking in a breath, “like, for tolerating me today, even when I was being kind of an asshole. I guess I just needed someone to talk to but I didn’t know who. It’s just—I feel like I can talk to you, I guess. Even though I probably overshared and said a lot of things I shouldn’t’ve said, especially about myself…” you chewed into your cheek, angling an embarrassed glance toward the floor, “so, I’m sorry about that, but I’m glad you listened to me anyways. Really, thank you.”

He watched you for a moment with his delicate eyes, until he decided to remove the guitar from his lap, leaning it against the bed. His thigh pressed slightly into yours and you tried not to squeak.

“You can come to me, y’know?” he said softly, folding his arms low across his chest, “you’re not some stranger. And I’m also not a judgemental jerk, so if you have to be a bit dramatic, I don’t care.”

A small huff of laughter left your chest, and you nodded to show how much you appreciated the sentiment, because words just wouldn’t perform the right justice. Closing your knees together, your brow stiffened, and you thought it was a good time to ask the question.

“D’you think that I… that I’m different? From when you first remember me? Or that I’ve changed a lot?”

“Of course you have,” Joshua answered so obviously that you cocked your head back and nearly bulged your eyes out at him, “when I first met you, you wouldn’t even look at me, or speak, really.”

“Can you blame me for that?”

“No,” Joshua chuckled, “I know you were shy. Most of Jennie’s friends were like that. But if you’re worried on whether or not you’re seeming fake, or coming across as an asshole for thinking Jennie switched up on you—whatever it is that you’re wondering—it’s okay. It’s fine. You’re not doing anything wrong. You’ll probably meet different people and someone will say you changed, too. It’s not a bad thing. In fact, just about everyone’s thinking the same things.”

You swallowed, heavy and bitter.

“What if—what if Jennie like, forgets about me?”

Joshua shrugged, “I can tell you confidently that won’t happen. She’s stubborn. Just give her time. She probably feels pressure to make it seem like she’s maturing by doing what feels grown to her. I promise she won’t forget about you,” he smiled, “you’re not someone people forget.”

And your whole body seized up with laughter.

“Please forget that I threw my bra out your car window.”

He grinned at you, splaying his arms behind him and nudging his knee against yours. A surge of heat throbbed throughout your face.

“I said I don’t judge. We can always go back and get it.”

“Nope, no way,” you sighed, “I’ll stick to my middle-aged woman undergarments. But it is an unfortunate fifty bucks down the drain.”

“Seems like you’ve got it all figured out,” Joshua said.

“Oh, and—is there a chance you cannot mention any of this to Jennie? Like, even the fact I was here? Is that okay?”

The boy nodded his agreement, “yeah, ‘course.”

It’s not that you wanted to start keeping secrets. But today had been important, and special, and sometimes it felt necessary to keep such moments between you and whoever else was concerned. A day geared to end horribly had turned into a memory so perfect you wanted to encase it in amber, take it into your dreams even, and preserve it until the end of infinity. Maybe you meant more to Joshua than you initially thought.

You stood at your locker, wriggling in the textbook that you’d nearly forgotten in the geology classroom. The lunch bell was going to ring any moment now, though your teacher had wrapped up the lesson early and dismissed everyone with very little homework (which you were most likely going to procrastinate because the newest drama you’d picked up definitely wasn’t going to watch itself). Just as you were about to close the door, you noticed Jennie walking down the hall, thumbs tapping a flurry on her phone while she chewed something that was undeniably a stick of Double Bubble. You panicked, and nearly sank into the locker.

But she strutted right past you, not even glancing up once or forcing a greeting under her breath, and you truthfully couldn’t decipher if she hadn’t noticed you or was clinging to her phone as a scapegoat.

Not that you wanted it to be either of those things—your relationship was already wearing thinner by the day, and you always wondered which interaction between you two might end up as the last.

Jennie stopped at her locker down the hall, seemingly typing out a few more texts before she finally tore her gaze from her phone and nudged the door wide open with her foot (she always forgot her combinations), beginning to rifle around inside. And for a moment, you weighed the options of approaching her. She looked especially gorgeous today, with her long midnight hair in loose curls, almost falling to the belt that wrapped around her white-buckle skirt—you were still adjusting to her in such attire. For the five years you’d known her, she was always wearing knee-length shorts and Joshua’s plethora of old soccer jerseys.

It felt unnecessary, practically performing deep breathing exercises at your locker just to ruminate a conversation with the girl who was supposedly your best friend. You decided to give it a shot.

No harm, no foul, right?

“Hey Jennie,” you said, clutching your hands awkwardly.

She tossed an orange folder to the top shelf of her locker, her eyes remaining forward as she replied, “I don’t know where Joshua is.”

Visibly, your entire body stuttered, like a printer trying to force out its last bits of ink. Without hardly any breath, you stood there stiffly.

“I’m not, uh, I wasn’t looking for him,” it came out sounding like a question, “I thought I’d ask you about our geology homework.”

“Oh. What about it?”

She’d pulled out a small tube of lip gloss, quickly running the applicator across her mouth before stuffing it back into her bag. You struggled to comprise a response, watching the girl readjust her hair in the magnetized mirror, hardly paying you a lick of attention. It felt like a slap in the face. You couldn’t help touching your own burnt cheek.

“Well, I—”

The lunch bell rang, and almost instantly, the halls gushed with students, the static of everyone talking at once remarkably loud. Before you could inch out another word, Jennie had slammed her locker door shut, swinging a black lunchbox over her shoulder.

“Text me about it,” Jennie said, already beginning to walk away and disappear into the crowd, “I’m going to see Marina right now.”

No—it wasn’t just a slap, it was a brutal, fist-flat punch.

You didn’t really know what to do, frozen in place until the tenth grader with the locker right beside Jennie’s came trudging up and barely muttered an ‘excuse me’ before grabbing at their lock.

During lunch, it was usually less hectic on the second floor, so you grabbed your plastic-wrapped sandwich and headed upstairs, trying inconceivably hard to ignore the trademark couple who were too busy devouring each other’s tongues and groping. You went back to the geology classroom. Thankfully, it was empty, and so you took a seat at first counter on the left while bracing through the overbearing amount of mayonnaise your mother had slathered across the bread.

When the door creaked, there was an electric burst in your chest, thinking it could be Jennie who’d finally come to decide that hanging out with the purple-haired, face-studded Marina wasn’t as interesting as you (even though you assumed it was probably better—she had a pet tarantula for god’s sake, and her own car). But you definitely weren’t disappointed to realize Joshua had entered the geology room instead, shouting a goodbye to Hansol before the door heaved shut.

You didn’t want to smile so eagerly, fearing that it might weird him out, though you were helpless to stop the automatic stretch which always appeared at the sight of him.

Turning around on the stool, your eyes fluttered.

“What’re you doing in here?”

He paused, scanning the classroom almost frantically.

“I forgot my pencil,” Joshua answered, approaching a desk and picking one up that clearly wasn’t his, about as short as his pinky.

“Yeah, right.”

“I have my physics in here, first period.”

You folded your legs and smirked, “but you don’t even sit there.”

“How would you know that?”

Tilting your shoulder to the right, you directed Joshua to the black surface of the workbench, where his name was poorly etched.

“Okay—I didn’t do that,” he laughed, “it was Hansol, with a pair of scissors, and I literally begged him not too. He didn’t care, obviously.”

You squirmed back around on the stool.

“Right, and that’s not a random pencil someone just forgot?”

“No, not at all… that, and I might’ve seen you slip in here before I walked Elsie to her Envirothon meeting. But make no mistake. I didn’t come back here for you.” He was acting fidgety as he said it, and though the room was dark, you wanted to believe he’d blushed.

Nonetheless, Joshua slid onto the stool beside you, his fingers attempting to untangle the wire earbuds he’d just pulled from under his collar. You watched dotingly while he struggled, only to surprise the boy as you pulled your seat closer and batted his hands away.

“Let me, since you’re lacking the dexterity for this.”

He huffed, leaning his head to the side, his fawn eyes bouncing to every corner of the room as though looking directly at you was a sin. But once you’d loosened all the knots, Joshua seemed to relax.

“So,” you edged back on the stool, “are you excited?”

Joshua scratched his ear. “Excited for what?”

“You graduate this year, dummy. Are you not excited?”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I am. I made some applications a few weeks ago, and I already heard back from one. It’s not my ideal choice, though.”

Leaning your elbows onto the table and squishing your cheeks between each palm, you exhaled a big breath.

“You’ve got good grades and all that. I wouldn’t worry.”

“Mm.”

“What about Elsie? Didn’t she want to go far away?”

Joshua’s adam’s apple pointed sharp against his throat.

“Um, she’s not sure yet. We haven’t discussed it much. She said, like, if I moved really far, she’d figure it out and come with me.”

Your eyes popped wide, and you tried to dim your surprise.

“Oh, wow. She must really like you—I mean, that’s obvious. You guys are dating after all. For a while now, I guess. Over a year.”

“Yeah.”

As Joshua thrummed his knuckles a few times on the table, you sensed he wasn’t exactly keening to examine the subject, not to mention the way his voice had thickened and the rustling of his knee was a bold spelling he was uncomfortable. It was nothing to take personal, yet that didn’t stop the little fissure which struck somewhere deep in your heart and made the air harder to breathe. Joshua had said you could come to him—you merely wanted him to know that he could trust you, too.

Sitting in closer against the table, you smiled at him.

“I may be a bit younger, but I can still give advice.”

Joshua furrowed his brow playfully.

“What d’you mean by that?”

It was surprisingly difficult to push the words past your teeth, almost like your body was issuing a mechanism to stop yourself from saying anything you might regret, anything that might scare him, or nudge him to develop the inkling you were beyond interested in him.

“I want you to trust me like I trust you.”

Each his pupils dilated further than they already had in the shadily lit room, and it was so apparent that you had to clench your fist, dig in your own nails until it stung to ensure you weren’t dreaming.

His answer was simple.

“Alright.”

You rubbed nervous, excited circles against the indents on your hand.

“There’s a prom party at the end of the month,” Joshua said, pulling out his phone as it vibrated, “You should come. I know Jennie’s going.”

“Uh, that sounds fun. I think.”

Slipping off his seat, Joshua grinned.

“Come find me if you decide to go—anyways, Hansol wants to get a burger and apparently I’m the only one he knows with a car. See ya.”

There were so many butterflies in your stomach, you tried not to cough one out as Joshua made his way toward the door—forgetting that stupid pencil of course. He liked writing all his notes and homework with pen, and you hated knowing such a specific, trivial fact.

“Yeah, talk to you later.”

It didn’t take much contemplation for you to agree to the prom party, even if you had yet to configure a ride or the location or how you’d get your hands on some alcohol (because you definitely weren’t going to enjoy one of those things sober), hence your decision to entreat Joshua for his phone number. 

It was only to ask about the details.

You learned the party was going to be hosted at Jeonghan’s house, probably the most popular senior in the entire school, and that there was a very strict designated driver policy. Well, at least you could scratch one bullet off your list, leaving just the ride and the alcohol. There was no way you were going to ask Joshua to be your escort—like he’d want to have his little sister’s friend stuffed in the backseat, it would be a total mood kill. 

Jennie was apparently going too. You’d try to avoid her if you could help it, even if it meant locking yourself in some washroom that reeked of liquor and smoke and impulsive decisions laced with vomit.

By the time the party rolled around, you were having a severe case of thought seconds, unable to sit still and constantly checking your phone and wondering how many times you could possibly change from the black skirt back into your shorts before you decided something. Chan, a boy from your English class, was kind enough to offer a ride—even some alcohol that his older brother had swiped for him. He texted that he’d be outside your house around nine o’clock, though it wasn’t until half an hour later that his car crunched into the driveway.

“Sorry,” he apologized the instant you opened the door, “I got busted—my mom found the beer in my backpack and got all mad. She thinks I’m still in my bedroom. I had to sneak out the window.”

Clicking on your seatbelt, you threw the boy a perplexed look.

“Uh, are you sure that was a good idea? I can probably just try to mooch off people. I don’t want you to get in serious trouble.”

Shrugging, Chan ignited the engine and set his navigation system to the party’s address, seeming disproportionately unconcerned.

“No, but I wasn’t going to bail. My brother said he’d take most of the heat, anyways. Oh—I really like your skirt by the way.”

“Thanks,” you replied, inching closer to the window.

Because you didn’t know him all that well, the car ride was a little awkward, your ankle twisting in these back and forth circles conveying just how nervous you were. Only the placid voice of the navigation system broke the silences, until Chan cleared his throat and lowered its volume.

“Did you hear the big drama that’s going around?”

Your ankle paused, and you looked across the glove box.

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh, well I have the scoop. So, basically—wait, you know Elsie Bolger, right? The Envirothon girl? And Joshua Hong. I mean, I think everyone knows them ‘cause they get around and stuff. And you’re friends with Jennie so you probably know Joshua.”

“Yeah, I know both of them.”

Chan only kept one hand on the wheel, his other motioning around like he was giving some sort of speech, “okay, so they broke up, right? On Wednesday. Apparently, it was after school, and Elsie was like, sobbing, asking why and what went wrong, ‘cause it was him who broke the ice about it. I heard Joshua was saying that he saw her more like a friend, but Elsie kept adding pressure that there was another girl. Not that he was cheating or anything, but I don’t think he loved her, so I kinda agree with Elsie. There has to be someone else he likes—or, shit, maybe even loves. I think it’s that choir girl with the long arms. ”

He threw you a curious glance, as though he were anticipating your angle on the situation, though you couldn’t express much apart from an unhinged jaw and a stutter that fell to hot breath in your chest. When your tongue tapped the roof of your mouth, it was dry, and Chan must’ve thought you looked nauseous because he offered to roll a window down.

“I had no idea,” you admitted, smoothing your hand over a crinkle in your skirt, “I really hadn’t heard anything about it, so…”

“Really? That’s surprising. Who’s side, though?”

“What?”

Chan opened his window an extra inch and smiled.

“I mean like, who do you think was right? Joshua or Elsie?”

Honestly, at that moment, the idea of yanking the door open and bailing onto the dirt road seemed extremely tempting. How could he expect you to answer a question like that? When you were younger, you used to daydream about this: Joshua at long last detaching from his girlfriend, in which you could somehow swoop in to take her place and dust out his memories of her like you were cleaning a closet. But now that opportunity had actually presented itself. And you felt miserable.

Why would Joshua even decide that a party was what he needed right now? Why wasn’t he at home, heartbroken and grieving?

Chan snapped his fingers.

“Well, who’s side?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stuttered, “and I don’t want to choose.”

“Student cards, please.”

At the end of Jeonghan’s long driveway, a booth had been set up by the student council. You didn’t know the girl who’d asked you to present that pointless card you never thought would be useful, but once you flashed it to her, she grabbed your wrist and pressed a stamp to the back of your hand. It seemed that the night was really starting to take shape around ten o’clock—indecorous music echoed from the house and smoke was curling up into the blackness, courtesy of an impressive fire that crackled in the backyard. You weren’t sure what to do without Chan, who was already halfway along the driveway when you caught him.

“Please don’t wander off on me,” you sighed, taking a skittish look around the property filled with strangers, “I mean, I’m not gonna tether you to my side the whole time, but you are my ride.”

Chan pulled open the double doors to Jeonghan’s home, and a burst of heat welcomed you, steadily fanning your face. He obviously wanted to be inside, though you would have preferred to stay outdoors where it was cooler and a bit quieter and the likelihood of a guile senior cornering you against some table or couch was far lower.

The boy glanced around, stretching his neck to peer into the different rooms, “I won’t wander. I’m just looking for someone…” he mumbled, paying you next to no attention as he pardoned his way into the adjoining kitchen. Not wanting to be abandoned, you followed him.

“Oh—look, there’s Seungkwan!” Chan exclaimed, pointing his finger into the room past the kitchen.

Again, you hurried after him, squishing between two seniors who were nonetheless unenthusiastic at hearing your apology, and you were half-expecting to get a solo cup thrown at the back of your head. The friend Chan had met, Seungkwan, was gathered with a few others at this little counter in the living room, each whom you recognized from your grade. Seungkwan wasn’t one to drink, so when he asked if you wanted his cup of hard lemonade, you took it almost immediately and used it as an excuse to not fully join their conversation. Instead, you meandered more around the outside of their circle, surveilling the room and trying to catch any familiar face that presented itself. Well, not just any face.

You were specifically hoping to see Joshua.

Since Chan had told you about his breakup with Elsie, your whole demeanour shifted, and a fog had creeped its way into your brain. You couldn’t think about anything but him. Even standing next to the speaker responsible for blasting a salacious song about messy sex and drugs wasn’t doing much to distract you. Jeonghan’s house was considerably large, therefore Joshua could be anywhere. And you had yet to understand it. Was he intentionally glossing over his own misery by forcing himself to enjoy a party? Or was he happy to escape a relationship that he might’ve never truly wanted in the first place? That didn’t seem like him. He definitely loved Elsie. You needed him to be okay.

“Can you not just stand there? You’re blocking the way.”

You had no idea who they were, but this girl who was vastly taller than you appeared, holding onto the hand of a guy you assumed to be her boyfriend—either that or a quick, meaningless hook-up.

Without uttering a word, you stepped aside and let them pass.

And then you looked back at Chan, staying true to his vow and steering clear of drinking. Hovering beside him the entire night like a shy puppy wasn’t going to make you feel any better, nor would engaging in synthetic conversations with people you barely talked to at school, so you decided to break your own promise and wander. Your guesswork of the house led you out a random door, into the backyard where the bonfire was sparking and jouncing as students threw in more wood. Sipping at your hard lemonade, you examined everyone as best you could, though it was practically impossible to decipher all the blurry faces.

The very second you stepped off the deck onto the grass, someone’s arm was sliding around your shoulders, and as you were being tugged against this body you realized that Joshua had found you first.

“Aww, so glad y’could make it!” He slightly fumbled the pronunciation of his words, dragging them with a laziness that could only indicate he was inebriated, or teetering on the heated edge of it.

It took you a moment to regain your footing.

“Almost forgot y’were coming—” he paused to laugh, rubbing one hand beneath his nose, leaning on you heavily, “but I saw you n’ I remembered! M’so happy to see you, soso happy.” Joshua’s arm then tightened around your shoulders, like you were his support crutch.

“I’m, uh, happy to see you too,” you answered.

If it weren’t for the deep breaths you were subtly taking, you might as well have fainted. Joshua had never treated you like this in all your years of knowing him—even the moments when he’d come home late at night, tipsy and wobbly and Jennie would have to cover for him come morning. The fact was that there had always been an unspoken boundary between you, an invisible line, which now seemed completely erased as the boy pressed at your shoulder blades and urged you forward, something about meeting his friends, his face glowing with the surge of alcohol and his eyes completely clouded. This confused you further.

Because even though he was drunk, this was so unlike his character. You suspected that breaking up with Elsie must have shattered him. All his pieces hit the floor and he just left them there, broken.

“Are you doing alright? I, uh… I’m just wondering…”

Joshua stopped, unwinding his arm from your shoulder to fix his hat, combing back the thick hair underneath with his fingers.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Fan-fucking-tastic,” he replied, seeming unconscious of the words leaving his own mouth.

“Well, that’s… I mean, that’s good. I’m glad to hear that, really glad, because I just—I heard some stuff and—” you nervously wet your throat with another sip from the solo cup, feeling your body shake, “it’s not my business or anything! Like, not at all, and I don’t want it to sound like I’m prying, or that I don’t believe you, but I—”

“Jeonghan’s just over there,” Joshua interrupted after fixing his backwards cap on, “we have a couch outside. Come sit w’us.”

He slid an arm around you again, pulling you forward.

And you stepped alongside him, shrinking yourself as much as possible to avoid colliding with another intoxicated body, smelling the fresh charred wood and smoke that desiccated the night air. Your little heart was beating so fast that you had to talk with a second pulse.

“You do? T-That’s cool. But, like I was saying, I guess I just want you to know that I’m sorry about what happened with Elsie. And I really hope that you’re okay and everything. I’m here for you, so—”

It happened in the blink of an eye. One minute you were occupied with speaking, and the next, Joshua’s warm, soft lips had pushed to yours, effectively shriveling your next thought as he held your shoulder. The kiss was transient. Before it could even click, Joshua had already pulled away like it was nothing at all but a hair to the wind.

“I said I’m fine, ‘kay?” Joshua slurred, and you looked into his eyes with enough intensity to burn a hole, “I’m g’nna take you to the couch. We can sit down and stuff. Jeonghan’s there.”

“Okay.” You agreed quietly.

However, as you made your way to the couch propped close by the bonfire, desperately scanning the crowds and ensuring no one had seen that unpredictable moment, you caught glimpse of a face that was so familiar it made you weak. The hard lemonade nearly dropped from your hand and soiled in the grass. Because Jennie was practically glaring at you from the trees, her arms folded and her mouth uncordially slanted.

You didn’t know what to feel any more.

It was definitely an old couch, one that Jeonghan’s parents were probably on cusp of throwing out, especially with all its patches and prickly seats and burnt spots from cigarette butts. You were wedged against the arm while Joshua drank beside you, spreading out his legs and pretty much exiling you to as little space as possible—not that you really blamed him considering his lack of awareness right now. Jeonghan was decent, though you knew he would never even be talking to you if not for your connection with Joshua. So, the senior seemed to deal.

He chucked another log onto the fire, and a big swoop of sparks and ashes puffed upward like a volcanic breath. Once Jeonghan dusted off his hands, he sat himself down on an old table and cracked open another beer. Your lemonade was one sip away from being completely empty. It still felt a little strange to be drinking something that wasn’t cream soda.

“Pass me that,” Joshua asked, slumping forward and gesturing to the beer his friend had just drank from, “or pour some into my cup.”

Jeonghan chuckled, guiding him back by the shoulder.

“I think you’ve had enough, Shua,” he answered, “you had some fun. Now it’s time to mellow out a little. You’ll thank me when you aren’t stuck in the bathroom throwing up your guts an hour from now.”

“You suck so fucking much,” Joshua complained, crumpling up his solo cup and then proceeding to toss it over his shoulder.

“I suck, yeah, yeah,” Jeonghan clearly didn’t take the comment to heart, instead knocking his fist atop Joshua’s head, “I’m gonna take a lap around the house—” he suddenly pointed at you, “make sure he drinks a glass of water or something. Or at least keep an eye on him until Hansol comes back. And don’t let him mooch. You got all that?”

With a stiff, tiny smile, you nodded.

“Sorry to dump the man on you. I’ll be back soon.”

Even though you hadn’t been getting along spectacularly well with the senior, you still wished he could have stayed. You felt unprepared to console Joshua, and that it wasn’t exactly your place to start controlling his alcohol when he was evidently going through something. But, then again, your concern outweighed the uncertainty, and you found yourself grabbing the boy’s shoulder, gluing him back to the couch when a girl had shuffled by with a bottle wrapped in a brown bag. He threw his head back, sunk lower into the cushions with a groan.

“I’m sorry,” you squeaked, “I’m just doing what Jeonghan said.”

“What do y’have left n’here…” he asked vacantly, pulling at your arm and looking into the solo cup, “what is this? Can I have it?”

“There’s hardly any left. And—”

“Mm, you’re gonna say no, right?” He didn’t give you the chance to respond before he was already pushing his weighted body off the couch, stumbling slightly. “Get some myself then… w-whoa—”

“How about you just sit down? Please Joshua?”

You stood up too, planting your hand on his lower back to stabilize his toppling movement. It didn’t help that one of his friends walked by, her and Joshua exchanging a quick dap before she giggled something unintelligible. She let Joshua have a swig of her drink, and you almost fumed at her in a blind rage, because how could she not care enough about him to see that alcohol was far from what he needed? In less than a second, you’d ripped the drink away and thrust it back.

“Okay, relax,” the older girl tutted condescendingly, “this is a party, y’know? Why don’t you have a sip yourself and calm down?”

“I’m just—”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m leaving. Later, Josh.”

Like some sort of animal guarding its territory,  you watched her until she disappeared into the crowds, and it was only then that you exhaled long and slow, realizing Joshua had already collapsed back onto the couch. You sat down as well, though at the very edge.

“Where’s Hansol?” You asked.

Joshua folded an arm behind his head, “dunno.”

“Well, once he comes back, I’m going inside.”

The boy’s head fell in your direction, the fire flooding his eyes with sunset orange as he questioned, “why are you waiting for him?”

“Because I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“Why?”

You shot him an anxious but stern look, “why d’you think?”

“I’m seriously fine.”

“Uh, you’re seriously not.”

Joshua laughed, a hiccup caught in his throat. His gaze traveled away from your face and back toward the fire, extremely dilated.

“It’s not even your business, so I don’t get it...”

“I know that—” for some reason, you felt yourself getting emotional, and your knees started tapping together as the nerves expanded, “but you saying that doesn’t make me not worried. I know if it were me, you’d be acting the same way. Wouldn’t you?”

Joshua was silent for a moment, but then he tensely swallowed and pushed his way back up the couch. He looked at you with the most clarity you had witnessed from those eyes all night, and suddenly, his hand had come to rest on your bare knee, squeezing it gently. He wanted to say something. It was loaded on his tongue like a bullet, but then—

“Uff—I’m back!” Hansol plopped down on the couch, sprawling out all his limbs and placing a water bottle behind Joshua’s head.

His hand was already off your knee.

And you were already making your way inside.

Honestly, you never envisioned yourself as the type to hide away in a washroom at a high school party, sat on the floor with your arms folded like some woeful delinquent who thought they were too unique for the world. Too unique? Not exactly. A woeful delinquent? Yeah, pretty much. You hadn’t bothered asking Chan to leave. The last you saw of the boy he was enjoying his time examining Jeonghan’s record wall.  

Almost three hours had passed. One in the morning was just around the corner, and somehow the party was still twirling with energy.

Just Dance, that was the song, the only Lady Gaga hit on the entire playlist that somehow made the walls shake whenever it played. The heat was thick enough for you to force open the bathroom window where breeze was faint, but you leaned into it regardless. Not many people were concentrated to this side of the house—mostly because there wasn’t anything out there aside from a generator and some trees. You would hear voices occasionally, though you could never deduce what they were saying. Jennie and Marina had walked underneath the window at one point. You had pulled back so quickly that your head spun.

This had all been a mistake. Almost as if the universe willed to prove your point, an obnoxious knocking berated the door, prompting you to uncomfortably swallow and call out a hoarse, “occupied!”

But the doorknob continued to jiggle, and then there was more pounding that jerked you hastily and fearfully to your feet.

“I said occupied!” You shouted, pacing a few steps forward and wondering what was the best possible item in this washroom to defend yourself—most likely the can of hairspray (you made a mental note).

After you still refused to unlock the door, the stranger left, and you assumed they were either left partially deaf due to the music or were off their rocker on whatever drugs and alcohol had managed to circle around the house. Brought back to sitting on the floor, you checked your phone again, groaning at the red sliver of battery you were prolonging.

Hungry, tired, sweaty, and slightly sick, you contemplated lying flat across the rug in an attempt to fall asleep. It wasn’t a good idea, but you didn’t care. The thought of closing your eyes was heavenly, and before you could pick a verdict they were already fluttering shut, the music beneath you sounding incredibly distant, turned to a soft echo that seemed like it was pushing through layers of concrete.  

Someone else came to the door.

When they knocked, you were convinced it was the stranger from earlier. Now, you were angry, angry enough to unveil whoever this person was (and pray the first thing they didn’t do was projectile vomit all their nights liquor onto your shirt). Yet, when you saw Joshua’s face through the mirage of dark, crimson colours mottling the corridor, you wished it could have been that stranger holding down their stomach. He looked a little more focused, though his hair was mussed up in spikes and his cheeks were visibly blotched pink in the mugginess. One of his hands braced against the doorframe. Joshua wasn’t sober, just steadier.

“Can I come in?” He asked, keeping his head angled to the floor, rubbing the tip of his nose with a knuckle.

“Were you looking for me?”

“Jeonghan said he last saw you going into the washroom.”

With a reluctant sigh, you grabbed Joshua’s arm and pulled him inside, kicking the door shut with your foot. Whoever was in charge of the music had opted to play the song even louder, and you heard the living room crowd belting along to every lyric, even from upstairs.

He sat on the edge of the bathtub. You joined him.

Joshua then leaned forward, elbows on his knees. For a moment, you questioned if it was right to ask him about the kiss—you were burning to know his intentions, drunk or not. The boy proceeded to grin.

“What?” You were intrigued—tempted to laugh, even.

“Nothing,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “I just—I feel numb, or something. Like, I feel everything: how hot it is, sweat on the back of my neck, the chills in my fingers, but at the same time, I don’t really feel it.”

You sniffled, twisting your ankle in nervous circles. Joshua leaned back a little less, though he dragged a hand through the thick strands of his hair, and you now understood why it was so messy.

“Where’s your hat?”

“Lost it,” he smiled.

“We should switch places.”

“Why?”

“So you can be closer to the window. There’s a nice breeze.”

Once Joshua had slid over, you two sat in silence, listening to each rhythmic thump. He pulled one of his banged-up converse onto the edge of the tub, propping an arm across his knee while he stared into the moonlight. You wanted desperately to know each thought in his head.

Then, he was suddenly looking square into your eyes.

“Did I kiss you?”

With a careful nod, your fingers clenched.

“Fuck, that was just a stupid, stupid accident. I’m sorry. I thought I dreamt that for a second—I keep fucking up.”

An accident? A stupid, stupid accident?

No, that makes sense. Of course it’s an accident.

But it hurts. God, it really hurts.

He was drunk. That’s why. You already knew that!

Why is it so much harder to breathe?

Your eyes are stinging. Pull yourself together, holy shit.

He really doesn’t see you like that. It’s obvious, always has been.

Don’t you dare cry. Pull it together. Pull it together.

Pull it together!

“Hey,” Joshua tapped your arm, “I’m really sorry.”

“No, I—” you pushed off the edge of the tub, leaning against the clam-shaped sink instead, taking a second to blink and force back the wetness at your tear ducts, “it’s fine. I get it. I’ve just been sitting on the floor for like, the past three hours. I need to stand a bit. But— I’m just thinking, maybe you should go home. It’s been an intense week.”

The older boy agreed, nodding his head as a lopsided smile touched at those perfect lips. You nibbled your inner cheek.

“I don’t know why I came, I just—” Joshua threw his hands up defeatedly, “Elsie and I, we wanted different things. She was amazing, and I have only good things to say about her, but I…”

You weren’t sure if you could handle this. It didn’t help that your mind was still whirling from his earlier apology, thoughts and emotions spinning and spinning like a spool of slippery ribbon coming undone. But at the same time, you wanted to be there for Joshua. He must be unraveling about this heartbreak because he trusted you, though, as he stumbled and continued correcting himself and paused every minute or so to look deeply at the moonlight, you began believing that Joshua had forged his relationship with Elsie as some sort of distraction.

And this sparked a flicker in your dark eyes.

Was it easier to be with Elsie than it was to be with you?

But you didn’t say anything. Instead, you stood there silently, letting Joshua reminisce, gulp back his tears, pick up those shattered pieces he’d dropped that bitter Wednesday afternoon—as he should be doing, rather than stuffing his heart into an ice bucket and letting it numb. His smile reflected as less broken by the time he’d finished.

“Well, I sorta unloaded. I hope it wasn’t too much.”

“No, you needed to do that. I’m glad you did.”

Joshua finally stretched his leg off the edge of the tub, meanwhile he raked through his hair again, flopping it all over the place.

“I’m glad I did, too,” he admitted, steadying his gaze on you.

Your lower back pressed further against the sink.

“I mean, you’ve listened to me complain about pretty much everything under the sun. Even your sister. You’re just caching in.”

“Should I be caching in more often?”

“Wow—perfect Joshua Hong has more stuff to get off his chest?”

He huffed, “since when have I been perfect? Like, ever?”

Whoops, that had been a revealing slip of the tongue. You crinkled your nose and swung your smitten head toward the window.

“I didn’t say perfect.”

“But you did, though.”

“You’re hearing things.”

Joshua rolled his shoulders, capitulating to you easily.

“Whatever,” he said, finally rising from his seat with a smirk that felt familiar, “I’ll take the compliment, even if it supposedly didn’t exist.”

At that moment, you thought he was going to leave the washroom, and once again you would be left to sit on the floor until Chan overwhelmed your phone with texts, asking where you were. There was no way he could still be admiring the record wall. He’d probably moved onto something else obscure yet alluring. Jeonghan’s house was just as pretentious as the senior himself. But Joshua didn’t disappear.

He grabbed your shoulder, and you froze.

“Thank you, I should say before I forget.”

The mould around you crumbled away.

“Oh yeah, for sure, um—no big deal,” you mumbled awkwardly while pulling him into a hug, losing your words in a mere instant.

His arms curled around your waist, firm on each side, and there was a soft squeeze to your body that left you breathless. Your right hand landed at the back of his neck, fingers moving almost instinctually toward his black hair, feeling each lock slip through, a bit tangled and damp with sweat. Shit—your heart had never raced like this before. He could probably sense it against his own chest. Joshua had started pulling away, and so you replied with a slow, obviously unwanted retreat from his body. For some reason, Joshua left a hand on the hip of your skirt, which he seemed to be looking down at for a notable time.

You should kiss him.

Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him. Don’t let him go. Pull him against you. Lick into his mouth and move his hand back to your hip. Show him he doesn’t need to distract himself anymore because you’re right here.

Except—you did none of that.

Joshua said thank you once more. And he slipped back into the misted, red lights that glowed outside in the corridor.

You had never gotten into a fight before, though you’d been a witness to one or more at school. The first fight—which your principal incessantly referred to as an ‘altercation’—was three years ago on the green, when two senior footballers had gotten into a shoving match that resulted in the meeker having his cheek rubbed against the dirt for a solid five minutes. The second fight was a year later, between two girls who were opting to practically pull the other’s hair out in the locker room.

But you, yourself, had never gotten into an actual fight.

Maybe sixteen was the year you’d throw your first punch.

You just never anticipated that the girl on the potentially-receiving end would be Jennie Hong, a former best friend since the age of twelve, now converted to a thorny stranger who’d gotten the tiniest sip of popularity and clung to it with stunning avarice. Ever since your falling-out, you always assumed this day would pull itself out from the leaves—essentially a disinterring of what had killed the friendship—though you hadn’t expected it here or now. It had only been a weekend since the party. Jennie couldn’t even keep her burning remarks until two-thirty.

Instead it was lunch, at the base of the staircase outside the library, just without its centrepiece couple to clog the path. Nobody was really filtering through at that moment, but you could already imagine how the tight space would bubble with a crowd once someone caught wind of the shouting. How the hell do you throw a punch, anyways?

“You know what—I don’t have to answer to you. It’s not like you’re my boss or anything.” Right, and when was the last time Jennie actually responded to a text message? She let the friendship fizzle.

“No, I’m not letting this slide, because what you did was one of the shallowest things I’ve seen—like, ever.”

“Ever?” You gawked, feeling an instant sharpness in your gut.

Jennie exaggeratedly rolled her doll eyes, and for some reason, you contemplated how it might feel to grab a stinging handful of her stupid, silky, coconut-smelling hair and rip it flat out.

“Yeah, ever! My brother just went through a huge break-up with the love of his life! And, you see this little window, so you come in and take it. I legit saw you kiss him. It made me think how selfish you are.”

“What is wrong with you, Jennie? That’s not how—”

“That’s basically what our friendship turned into. You’re fucking obsessed with my brother. You were supposed to be my one friend that wasn’t, but guess I was wrong. Joshua doesn’t want you, at all.”

For a quiet, hollow moment, you were speechless, meanwhile Jennie had this tart yet overtly prideful countenance, like she had so tactfully shone a beam on how horrible you were—an announcement to let the entire world know her ex best friend was the textbook definition of fake. You had noticed a few faces peeking through the doorway up the stairs, and this heat began stifling over you like smoke from a fire. She wasn’t going to listen or even reason with anything you could say.

“I-I don’t care what you think you saw. I’m not shallow, or selfish, and the fact that you have to like—even convince yourself I did something wrong is showing that you—you’re—you’re basically—”

“You can’t even say it!” Jennie threw a ridiculing finger out at you and cackled. “I’m right. I’m so fucking right about you.”

“No, you’re not!”

“Kitty got claws?”

“Shut up, Jennie!”

“No, I won’t. I have every right to feel hurt ‘cause of you! The truth is, you just like Josh ‘cause he’s the only boy that’s ever paid you any attention, so you obsess over him, thinking he’s gonna what? You’ll finally lose your v-card or something? I never wanted to think y’were just using me to know him, but that’s exactly what happened!”

You couldn’t stand listening to her, and tried to drown out the cacophony of her voice instead, rubbing harshly at your ears while you blurted, “just shut up! Shut up, shut up!” like it would make her vanish.

“Then do something to make me stop!”

And that’s when you felt the crackle skip down your wrist and bumble at the tips of your fingers. Could you really punch Jennie? The girl whom you’d once laughed with and cried with and spent a memorable chunk of your earlier adolescence figuring out the world with? God, you had never hit anything in your life, unless you counted the time you accidentally struck your mother in the jaw when she’d been trying to blow raspberries on your tummy. But that wasn’t intentional. And Jennie used to be a real outdoorsy kid, digging up snails and shaking beetles off bark. She wasn’t afraid to get her nails dirty.

You took a few steps toward her, and Jennie’s eyes widened. The slight lagging of her expression indicated that she genuinely hadn’t expected the slightest action from you, though, you’d lost the urge to strike her as quickly as it festered up. Besides, someone must have relayed the argument to the staff, because you heard the blips from the on-duty teacher’s walkie-talkie at the top of the stairway. An entire crowd of students had bunched behind them, watching a little too excitedly.

“There a problem here, girls?”

Surprisingly, Jennie was the first to cough.

“No.”

The teacher then glanced at you, folding his stout arms across his chest and pushing up the glasses on his red nose.

“No…” you repeated dully, your eyes trailing off to the side.

You took back everything you said about bad days.

This was officially the worst.

Monday.

[ don’t answer | 3:28 pm ]: hey.

[ don’t answer | 3:28 pm ]: something happen at school today?

[ don’t answer | 3:28 pm ]: jennie wouldn’t talk to me in the car.

[ don’t answer | 3:28 pm ]: thought you might know what happened.

...

[ don’t answer | 4:30 pm ]: are you taking a nap?

[ don’t answer | 4:30 pm ]: or is it physics? i can help.

Tuesday.

[ don’t answer | 3:20 pm ]: am i an idiot or were you avoiding me?

[ don’t answer | 3:25 pm ]: did i do something?

Thursday.

[ don’t answer | 5:50 pm ]: i’m trying to give you space rn.

[ don’t answer | 5:50 pm ]: just thinking about you.

[ don’t answer | 5:50 pm ]: hope everything’s okay.

Sunday

[ ______ | 2:30 am ]: im sorry. messages were being weird.

[ ______ | 2:30 am ]: i don’t think we should talk any more.

[ don’t answer | 2:34 am ]: why?

[ ______ | 2:34 am ]: it looks weird.

[ don’t answer | 2:34 am ]: i don’t want to make you uncomfortable.

[ don’t answer | 2:34 am ]: i’m not sure what happened bu

[ don’t answer | 2:34 am ]: *but if i did something please tell me.

[ ______ | 2:34 am ]: it has nothing to do with you.

[ ______ | 2:34 am ]: im just trying to respect jennie.

[ don’t answer | 2:34 am ]: are you talking about that fight? call me

don’t answer is calling…

call declined at 2:34 am.

[ don’t answer | 2:35 am ]: why not? idc what jennie thinks.

[ ______ | 2:35 am ]: well i do.

don’t answer is calling…

call declined at 2:35 am.

[ ______ | 2:35 am ]: joshua don’t i won’t pick up.

[ don’t answer | 2:35 am ]: this is easier if we talk.

[ ______ | 2:35 am ]: i don’t want to do that right now.

[ don’t answer | 2:36 am ]: find me tomorrow at school, ok?

[ ______ | 2:36 am ]: where?

[ don’t answer | 2:36 am ]: physics, at lunch.

[ don’t answer | 2:36 am ]: my grad partys coming up soon.

[ ______ | 2:36 am ]: excited?

[ don’t answer | 2:36 am ]: yeah.

[ don’t answer | 2:36 am ]: one sec. sending a picture.

[ don’t answer | 2:37 am ]: IMG.124_313

[ ______ | 2:37 am ]: new amp?????

[ don’t answer | 2:37 am ]: early gift from vernons mom lol.

[ ______ | 2:37 am ]: no way she fucking bought u that!!

[ don’t answer | 2:37 am ]: she loves me more than him.

[ ______ | 2:37 am ]: im not getting you anything like that, sorry 

[ don’t answer | 2:37 am ]: nah nah your presence is enough.

[ ______ | 2:37 am ]: u want me there??

[ don’t answer | 2:37 am ]: obviously wtf.

[ don’t answer | 2:38 am ]: are you gonna skip bc of my sister?

[ don’t answer | 2:43 am ]: did you fall asleep? or are you avoiding the q?

[ ______ | 2:43 am ]: sorry, phone died.

[ ______ | 2:43 am ]: i don’t want stuff w jennie to ruin your day.

[ don’t answer | 2:43 am ]: you’re not gonna ruin anything.

[ don’t answer | 2:43 am ]: what if i told you

[ ______ | 2:44 am ]: told me what?

[ don’t answer | 2:44 am ]: that i want you there more than anyone else.

[ don’t answer | 2:46 am ]: why do you keep disappearing?

[ ______ | 2:46 am ]: you’re such a liar lol.

[ don’t answer | 2:46 am ]: you’re coming, ok?

[ don’t answer | 2:46 am ]: i’ll make you promise me tomorrow.

[ ______ | 2:46 am ]: you can’t make me do that.

[ don’t answer | 2:46 am ]: we’ll see.

[ ______ | 2:46 am ]: yeah we will.

[ don’t answer | 2:46 am ]: ngl i’m tired. but find me on monday.

[ ______ | 2:46 am ]: i know. goodnight.

[ don’t answer | 2:47 am ]: goodnight.

1 month later.

[ ______ | 6:50 pm ]: hey, answer me asap.

[ ______ | 6:50 pm ]: need extra thoughts on what i should wear.

[ joshua h. | 6:53 pm ]: wear whatever you want.

[ ______ | 6:53 pm ]: but how formal is it?

[ ______ | 6:53 pm ]: could i get away with like……

[ ______ | 6:53 pm ]: a really nice camisole and jeans??

[ joshua h. | 6:53 pm ]: yeah.

[ ______ | 6:53 pm ]: what are u wearing?

[ joshua h. | 6:54 pm ]: dress shirt and slacks.

[ ______ | 6:54 pm ]: that’s at least noticeably formal!!

[ ______ | 6:54 pm ]: i’m going to wear my skirt.

[ joshua h. | 6:54 pm ]: okay lol. see u there.

[ ______ | 6:54 pm ]: this frjdsy, right?

[ ______ | 6:54 pm ]: whoops **friday

[ joshua h. | 6:55 pm ]: yeah. come at like 8-ish.

[ ______ | 6:55 pm ]: will do.

How were you supposed to feel about Joshua leaving? Honestly, you tried not to ruminate on it. Your relationship had definitely evolved more than it ever had these past few months, and now that you were finally shaking off the thick chrysalis of being his “little sister’s best friend”, Joshua would be coasting away to university. New people, new experiences, new environment—how were you going to ensure you were the thing that stuck? That, when he was in the midst of some homecoming party with a girl sliding her fingers down his arm, in the back of his mind he was thinking of you to an annoying degree.

You didn’t know how to do that.

It felt awkward to even muse about such a thing as you stood in the Hong family living room, occasionally scraping a few pieces of crackers and cheese off the platters organized on the island while everyone buzzed and mingled around you. Jennie was somewhere. You didn’t know where, but at that point you didn’t care any longer. The fight had wedged you two apart for good. Thankfully its details hadn’t circulated much, and if Joshua had any indication the precise details of the fight, he was very polished at hiding it. His mother had swung by a few times to talk with you, and you always saw Joshua’s seraphic eyes in hers.

“Every time I walk past, you’re glued to this spot,” she smiled genuinely and gesticulated with a wave of her wine glass.

“Oh, just enjoying the crackers,” you replied, “and, um, the cheese. But it’s okay. I don’t mind people-watching.”

“Need anything to drink?”

“I’m good. Thanks, though.”

She squinched her face for a moment, “I might offer the wine, but you are by far underage. Of course, I’m saying this like you haven’t already drank before. Most teenagers find a way. Jennie uses Joshua who uses his older friend, Seungcheol. I’m not condoning it, obviously.”

“Obviously,” you grinned, flitting a wink at her.

“Oh, I miss you,” she half-exhaled, half-laughed, grabbing onto your shoulder with a touch of comfort you’d almost forgotten. “I’m still trying to figure out how to handle Jennie’s new friends.”

With a distant hum, you agreed, “that makes two of us.”

Someone suddenly called her over from the next room, and she politely dismissed herself, fitting in a graceful comment about your outfit before she strode away. And that was when you started feeling… disheartened, a bit empty, dreary about the future and how you were supposed to wake up relatively excited for school knowing that Joshua’s kind, sweet, stupidly pretty face wasn’t going to be there. It felt like a kick in the teeth, and it hadn’t even happened yet. Did he care that he was going to be leaving you here to sink further into your loneliness?

As you picked at another cracker, Hansol came up from the basement with Jennie following suit. They were holding extra paper plates and cups, and you watched from your peripheral as Hansol kept the door open for her with his foot. He was graduating too, though his family hadn’t glamorized it as much as Joshua’s, to which you figured the boy was dually enjoying the praises he got in the mix. Jennie and Hansol walked off together into another room, talking animatedly and constantly brushing shoulders and smiling a little too gleefully for two people who just got sent to the basement for some cardboard and plastic.

Where the hell is Joshua?

You got here at eight, and hadn’t seen him once.

Well, if he didn’t want to be found, then you’d just follow the very obvious trail that lead to his bedroom, the door cracked open and the aging, peeling poster of that lady with the star-shaped sunglasses still staring at you just as placidly as always. When you thought about it, she was the only one to ever see you stop and stare at his door over the many years, watching your wonder of him turn into a crush, and then whatever you called it nowadays. Using your foot, you tapped the door open slightly, exchanging a nervous glance with the star-shaped glasses lady.

Joshua hadn’t even noticed that you’d entered. He was squatted in the corner, wires snaking around his feet, some plugged into a few outlets on his amp. Of course, this is what concerned him right now.  

“So, you’ve been up here, playing around with a bunch of wires, instead of like, enjoying the graduation party you forced me to come to.”

He flinched, at first jarred by your presence, but you noted Joshua’s relaxed smile as he rose up while sweeping some dust off his hands. You stood in one place, like roots were sprouting from your socked feet into the floor, hands fiddling behind your back.

Standing near his desk, Joshua gestured to the lava lamp.

“Do you want that?” He asked as a bright, yellowish gob of liquid floated gradually upward, merging into the purple.

“Why would I want it?”

“You said something to me once about always wanting a lava lamp. I don’t really need it anymore.”

Rolling back your shoulders, you chuckled. “I said that like, two years ago. And I think it’s a staple of your room. You should keep it here.”

“Good point,” he answered, reaching for a soda can on his desk.

Cream soda, obviously. Some things never change.

You sighed, though it ended up whisking out your mouth in a much sadder tone than you intended, and for a second your heart skipped a beat because you didn’t want Joshua thinking his graduation party was insipid or boring. If anything, you were reminiscing, and it just wasn’t in your nature right now to be especially pert when you knew he was leaving. Not to mention, you hated him in a crisp white dress shirt that he’d clearly been fiddling with because the sleeves were too long and the fabric was too stuffy. He’d cuffed the material up to his elbows and undid a few buttons that unveiled a deep amount of his skin.

Were collarbones intended to be that attractive?

“Everything okay?” Joshua questioned, tilting his head.

You leaned against the desk with him, the room hardly aglow in the dull heat from his lava lamp. Honestly, you did kind of want it.

“Well, you’re going off to university…”

“I am.”

“So, you won’t be here. Like, at all.”

“Are you forgetting the entire summer before I leave? And reading week? And Christmas? And whatever else? I’m not ‘gone’,” he quoted with his fingers, “you have my number, anyways.”

You scoffed, smiling at him to lighten the tension. “Pfft, yeah, like you’re even going to be hitting me back. You know you won’t, right?”

Joshua merely shook his head in disagreement, folding his arms.

“Never mind any of that stuff. I don’t mean to make it about myself—” Jennie’s face scorched across the canvas of your mind like a lightning strike, that comment about you being selfish, “how are you feeling? I mean, shit has been… a little different for you this year.”

The boy bit his lip softly as he agreed, and his eyes almost glazed over for a particular second, as though he were flicking through heavy pages of old memories. Was he thinking about Elsie? You really hadn’t spoken to her since their breakup, apart from an excruciatingly awkward encounter in the girl’s washroom where you basically expressed your empathies to a brick wall. She had been scrubbing every cell of her hands with soap, smiling and nodding and probably wishing you’d just dissipate. Since then, you hadn’t seen the autumn haired girl much.

“Yeah,” Joshua hummed, tilting his head in your direction, “I guess it has been different. But… good different…” his eyes stilled on you like they were focusing a picture, and you swore his gaze drifted up from your legs, your hips, ever so briefly along your chest and to the sort of frozen expression painted stiffly and crookedly to your face.

What the fuck does that mean?

“So… you’re ready to leave?” Experimentally, you adjusted your hand on the desk, having your fingers slightly overlap with his.

“Pretty much.”

He stared at you again, and this sitting, small frog in your chest charged into a hop as  Joshua’s ring finger slid overtop your pinky, hooking the two digits together. Nervous was an understatement—you felt downright nauseous, the dry-mouthed, heart-hammering, sweat-slicked kind where fainting seemed like a possibility if you didn’t go into cardiac arrest first. Despite the guileless brushing of your fingers, Joshua’s face hadn’t budged that much. He was about as easy to read as a stone tablet, only if someone used scissors instead of a chisel.

But was it right to doubt yourself? This could be the perfect moment served on a silver platter. Maybe you didn’t know what you were doing, or how to kiss someone, or how to look at this boy’s sweetly plump lips without feeling tingly and dehydrated, but if you didn’t just make that fucking move you’ve been waiting on like a birthday wish then—

“Oh, yeah! Totally forgot to mention this but—”

“Wait, Joshua—”

He had taken a step away from the desk, and without thought, you latched onto his shoulder in an attempt to reel him back.

The boy turned around almost automatically, unable to purse another word past his lips as he realized the seriousness that had desaturated your aura, feeling the shaky hands that pulled down the smooth front of his dress shirt, arms now curling their way around his neck. You had pressed him in close against you, not a flicker of space between, and Joshua still hadn’t said a word as you touched your lips to his in a light contact. Unsure if you should continue, you almost stepped away, surprised to consequently feel two firm hands on your hips which guided you back in, his lips now eagerly pushing against yours.  

But it quickly dawned on Joshua that he needed to go slower for you, and there was an almost grateful, relieved breath into his mouth when he extended each kiss into a gradual pace. Working softly, letting you pause to take in as much air as you needed, occasionally smiling against your mouth whenever he added something like an experienced touch of the tongue that you clearly enjoyed and responded to. Almost blinded by the desire you felt, you were immediately desperate for more, having Joshua sit down in his desk chair while you climbed onto him.

“Wait—” he huffed between your kisses, accepting each one and nipping back too, almost like he couldn’t stop himself, “wait just a sec.”

His calloused hands landed on your bare thighs. You couldn’t help but twitch the instant it happened, losing another fleck of sanity, chills dancing up your spine when his fingers inched further to play with the short, black hem of your skirt. To your displeasure, Joshua suddenly abandoned that idea all together. Almost like he’d contacted something burning hot, the boy chose to grasp your waist instead.

“What?” You mumbled breathlessly against his neck, exploring the skin with licks and bites.

This was something you had never done before, something you didn’t even know you were capable of, but the desire was flowing out and you didn’t know how to stop it. His addicting scent fluttered around you, making it beyond difficult to concentrate. Joshua’s fingers then grazed your cheek, pulling your face back toward him where he slotted your mouths together once more, wanting to kiss you harder but knowing he needed to stop. You sensed it too—he was confused and apprehensive.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you leaned back on his lap and frowned. “Is there something wrong? You don’t want us to?”

Joshua reached for your face again, moving you back in.

“Listen,” he said, using that satin-dipped voice of his which could only indicate he was about to let you down gently, “it’s not that… I just—you’re beautiful, and thoughtful, and as much as I want to—” he sucked in a breath that seemed deeply regretful, moving his thumb across the crest of your cheek with such fragility as he admitted, “I can’t, and I feel like I shouldn’t. I’m so, so sorry. I really am.”

“So… what does that mean? You don’t like me?”

It was akin to pinpricking a balloon—just the slightest puncture had instantly deflated you, and there was a horrible, useless feeling that soaked into your bones as this boy caressed your face so tenderly.

“No, I like you. Fuck, of course I do,” Joshua whispered, sitting up further in the chair, black tresses slipping into his eyes, “but—”

“I’m just your little sister’s best friend, right?” Damn it, tears had glistened up as you said it. “Well, not even best friend. She fucking hates me, thinks I’m pathetic or whatever. And, is she even wrong? I mean, I’m literally sitting on her brother’s lap thinking he—you’d actually want me.”

“Slow down—” Joshua reached for your wrist as you squirmed off his lap, but you flinched away from it and wiped your cheeks instead.

“Please, you don’t have to leave. I mean, I’m not gonna hold you here, and— okay, I didn’t mean to make you cry. Fuck, I’m so sorry—“

He pushed out of the desk chair, reaching toward your face.

But you stepped back at the same time, maintaining the equidistance.

“What did you mean to do, then?!”

“I-I don’t know, honest. I really don’t know. Just—not this.”

Everything was fucking sweltering and stinging and you had never hated yourself more for thinking Joshua saw you as anything else but that dorky sidekick to his sister. And, you didn’t want to hear him elaborate or try to sugar coat his truth because that would only shove the knife further into your back. You wanted to leave, chiefly because you knew he wouldn’t follow, though nothing had ever hurt more in your life than when you slammed his door shut for the very last time. As you hurried down the stairs and anxiously buckled your shoes back on at their front door, Jennie had wandered into the corridor holding onto a plastic cup, at first extremely confused to the tears caked over your face.

“Um… should I get you a tiss—”

“Actually, you were right.”

Jennie perched an eyebrow, then scratched at the bracelets on her wrist. She was too stunned by the situation to bother responding.

“Your brother doesn’t want me, at all.”

And just like that, you were out of their house in an instant.

This could be a good thing, exactly what you needed, even.

Age thirteen was the first time you had seen Joshua, and for some unshakeable reason, your brain decided that he was the only boy worth fixating over—coursing enough serotonin and dopamine through your receptors like a drug that seemed harmless enough to keep injecting until one day, it just wasn’t. Joshua wasn’t even that great. What did he do anyways, apart from having eyes as captivating as the fine details of an oil painting, and a voice that sounded what a daydream felt like, and this seemingly genuine attentiveness to your life that made you forget the blizzard that often whipped around it?

Right, Joshua was not all that.

There must be other people out there who could elicit that rush, and maybe you would have met one or two of them if you hadn’t been so tethered to the older brother character who’d pinned you as this one-dynamical permanent friend. And that’s why you had come to the conviction that he needed to be cut from your existence, not just in physicality, but in thought. The second you got home from the party—letting your bicycle crash against the asphalt driveway because it was a fossil anyway—you took every single can that you had kept over the years, shovelling them into your knapsack while trying not to blubber.

Flinging the bag over your shoulder, you saddled onto the bike and pedalled off toward the quarry near the edge of the town. There was a huge, earthy hole dug into the middle, and most people had decided to start treating the pit as a trash site. It was nearly pitch black by time you arrived, so you had to balance a tactical flashlight on a rock, your enlarged shadow cast along the big, graffitied construction boxes sitting opposite to the hole. You grabbed a soda can out from your bag and twisted it into the dirt, pausing for no less than a second as his pretty face eclipsed your thoughts, perhaps one last opportunity to weigh the scale.

No—follow through, don’t be doubtful.

Crush the can. Crush the crush.

Using your heel, you stomped the soda can, hearing the metal contort and crack like you had squeezed out its breath. Then, with a gust of the leg, you sent the flattened semblance of a disk sailing through the air into the pit, which seemed as deep and infinitely dark as the sky. You did it again. And again. Crush and kick. Crush and kick. Until there was nothing left inside your bag, emptied down to its dust and crumbs.

It would have been an incredibly victorious, fulfilling moment.

If only you had not been crying so hard the entire time.

[ joshua h. | 11:45 pm ]: this is my fault, and i’m sorry.

[ joshua h. | 11:45 pm ]: i shouldn’t have kissed you back and messed with your expectations. but it’s not that i don’t like you or think about you.

[ joshua h. | 11:45 pm ]: bc i do. i just don’t know what’s right.

[ joshua h. | 11:46 pm ]: can we talk again? please.

[ joshua h. | 12:58 am ]: i’m sorry. i hurt you. i’m so fucking sorry.

[ joshua h. | 12:58 pm ]: i’m still gonna be here for you if you need me.

[ joshua h. | 12:59 am ]: goodnight.

Are you sure you want to block Joshua H? You will not receive any of this user’s messages.

…

Yes.

17.

Being seventeen was relatively new. Jennie Hong was no longer in your life. She was past a point of dislike and stuck on indifference. You heard from your mother that it was worse to be meaningless to someone than to be hated, and… you agreed. Chan, the boy responsible for driving you to Jeonghan’s party, was your boyfriend, and you two had started dating at the beginning of September. He had an oddly thrilling personality, a small group of friends, wasn’t too clingy or detached, and, well, he certainly tried at your relationship. Chan was the perfect amount of normal—balance, could be a better word, someone you looked at and sensed their life was exactly where they needed it to be.

Contrarily, your life had never felt like that, though that could have been due to Jos—him. Just, him, because you firmly decided that he was to remain a blank, faceless cut-out in the branching cloth of your memories. Right now you were with Chan, and he was lovely.

“What if—for the spaceship scene—you have her ride in on one of those harness thingies? And just get her to hold a cardboard painted  ship. We have the budget for a harness-pulley system, right? All it takes is some rope and muscle, really.”

“We’re not doing that, Chan. I appreciate that you want to lessen the burden of my stage coordinator B.S, but after the Peter Pan incident last year, harnesses were fucking stripped from any future production.”

“Oh! That’s right. Wasn’t that what’s-her-face’s fault?”

Seungkwan rolled his eyes, “basically, yeah.”

Theatre wasn’t exactly your school’s forte. It was proven year after year, beginning with the tragically iconic incident of the mattress pile toppling in the Princess and the Pea. The most recent incident—referred to ominously as the “harness” incident from last year’s Peter Pan production—nearly sent the theatre’s jewel, Lee Seokmin, straight to the hospital, though he was kept content with a hot fudge sundae and a coupon book. How that worked was beyond your understanding.

You had known Seungkwan since middle school, and it had always been his dream to be appointed stage coordinator. While it was bestowed to him under hapless circumstances, he was taking the school’s original production, Lost on Planet Smeckle, to an almost concerning degree of seriousness, constantly walking around with a pen spinning between his fingers and an “inspiration” notebook tucked at the elbow which you assumed was rather void. In truth, it was a particularly hard job to get suspended from. Jennie used to operate the sound panel for the plays. You swore she almost never hit the right button or was either incredibly delayed at doing it, and she was never admonished once.

“Are you going to contribute any ideas or not?” Seungkwan quipped, leaning back in his chair with an ankle propped on his knee.

Squishing up the sloppy remainder of your sandwich into its plastic wrap, you chucked it at him, knocking the pen out his hand.

“Like I know how to spice up Lost on Planet Smoogle—”

“Smeckle!”

“Smeckle—whatever it is. You’re asking the wrong girl.”

After sliding his pen back with his foot, Seungkwan seemed to agree that you were impracticable, therefore illuminating Chan as the rubber to bounce any incoming ideas off. Lunch was nearly over anyways. You decided to let the boys hash out whatever they could.

“I’m going to the library.”

Chan reached for your hand, fluttering his eyes sweetly.

“I’ll come find you after chemistry, okay?”

“Sure thing,” you smiled, leaning down to give him a peck.

Speaking of the library, it had finally dawned on you that the couple who routinely opted to swap spit on the staircase were gone and  graduated. While you had never been fond of them, they probably had the strongest relationship in the entire school. Chan occasionally joked about taking their place—it always earned him a thwap to the forehead.

Honestly, you weren’t sure why you escaped to the library, because hanging out with Seungkwan and Chan felt… right. They offered the company you always longed for in high school—a small, concrete group that was free of toxicity, the type of friends to groan with you about how unpalatable the cafeteria food was, stand with you outside your classes when the teacher was notably late and giggle about that stupid rhetoric of skipping after fifteen minutes. They were normal and familiar and that was all you could ask for. Seventeen was boring. Good boring.

A few minutes had gone by as you picked through the spines.

You kept sliding out and re-shelving the books without any actual intention of having them stamped. But then you pulled out a thick history novel that was at eye level. It revealed a perfect gap into the next aisle—exactly where Jennie and her friend Marina were standing. It surprised you so abruptly that you had flinched, cramming the book back into place as though you were restoring a bewitched, sacred artifact you definitely shouldn’t’ve touched. You should have left too. Except you didn’t, instead hovering close to the shelf where you deeply inhaled the scent of dusty paper, eavesdropping their conversation.

“Is that the one about the Galapagos finches?”

“Nope, dunno what it is—oh, there, barn owls. Not quite.”

“Maybe I should switch my topic. I fuckin’ hate biology. You think if I paid you ten bucks and half a joint, you’d write my project?”

“Yeah, no way. I’ll help you, though.”

“C’mon! You’re the only one I know who’s getting a ninety-five in bio. The teacher fucking loved your poster on those weird frog things.”

“The poison dart frog? Those are cool. I always went to their exhibit at the nature museum with my brother. You can get them as wooden toys with a stick. They sound like the actual frog.”

“Pfft, the nature museum. You’re such a loser, Jen. Ah—since you mentioned him, how is that dude, anyways? Mr. Beautiful.”

“Joshua?”

“Mmhm.”

Okay, this has to be your exit. Even just hearing his name feels like a tiny scalpel running the length of your heart. It’s been months and that chapter has closed. You’ve sutured your own cuts and moved on.

“He’s doing pretty good.”

Wait, pretty good? You paused. Pretty good, how?

“Uh, classes are fun. He really likes his roommate. Remember Jeonghan? He’s got an apartment with him. Life’s good for that idiot.”

No—what the hell are you doing? You don’t care!

“Okay, nice. Has he gone to any like, crazy parties? Everyone says the parties at uni are unmissable and you’re guaranteed to eat an edible without even knowing it. I’m not sure if that’s good, though.”

“Uh, yeah. He’s been to a few.”

Is it just you or did someone slick this part of the floor with glue?

“Got a girlfriend yet? I wouldn’t be surprised with those daydreamy eyes of his and the deceivingly angelic voice.”

Your breath stilled, lungs contracting, nerves simmering. Jennie hadn’t answered yet. It felt like time was viscous and nearly unmoving. At first, she chuckled, sliding a book back onto the shelf until it clicked.

“A girlfriend? Don’t think so. And never say those things again.”

In one gigantic exhale, the air gushed out your nose. If not for the bell startling you into reality, you might have slid down against the shelf due to anxiety, melted into a puddle even for the janitor to scrub away.

Something inside you had embarrassingly given.

It could not happen again.

Your fork sliced into the edge of orange, mashed sweet potato until it clinked against the plate, stainless steel scraping porcelain as you dragged it up and set the prongs onto your tongue. Chan was cutting rosemary asparagus in half to your left, keeping his eyes fixed on the stalks that were glimmery in butter and sauce. Picking up her wine glass, your mother took a slow, savoury sip. She watched the both of you.

Dinner was always so fucking awkward. Your mother had insisted she throw something together despite the fact she’d come straight home from work, still confined to her button-tight blouse and knee-length pencil skirt she hated, stalking around the kitchen in her clicky heels. She had met Chan once or twice before, though he never stayed for dinner. It was her opportunity to finally pin him in place, and it was going horribly.

Maybe it was weird to think, but some people just weren’t good with mothers—not purposefully or accidentally or by unimaginative curse, but in a way that was rather ignorant. Everyone’s house was their house, and unfortunately, that was Chan. If you had known this was her plan, you would have dragged him upstairs, pushed him down in your swivel-back chair, flipped around the for-emphasis chalkboard and instructed him on exactly what not to do. Yet, there hadn’t been the opportunity for that.

“So, any ideas for college or university? A gap year maybe to secure some money? I know that you’re very interested in performance and theatre.”

“Oh, yeah,” Chan agreed, bits of green flashing in his teeth as he spoke with a full mouth, “I want to be like, a really amazing dance teacher, but work my way up to it doing tons of gigs—,” he paused to chug a gulp of water, “and um, I don’t know. I want to be like Usher or something.”

“Really?” Your mother remarked, her wine glass settling onto the coaster with a light thud. “Usher? I guess he’s more your generation.”

“Yeah, probably,” Chan answered, also placing his cup back on the table, completely missing the coaster, “there’s this one song I really love, it goes like—”

Oh no. You braced a palm against your forehead, hardly watching from the edge of your vision as Chan sat up straight and pitched his hand.

“Shorty got down and said “come and get me”, yeah, yeah, I got so caught up, I forgot she told me, yeah, yeah, her and my girl, used to be the best of homies, next thing I knew, she was all up on me scream—”

You grabbed onto his arm, disguising it as a sincere, thoughtful touch despite your nails teething down on his skin.

“That was really great. Thank you, babe.”

“Well, I just—I hadn’t got to the rest of it yet.”

“No, I know,” your nails clawed a little deeper, “that’s fine.”

It was best to stop him before he entered a whole performance number in your dining room, to which you could picture him tripping over his own feet and tearing a photo frame off the wall, or elbowing the fine china teapot that had been a gift from your grandmother. He didn’t have the best spatial awareness, or awareness of anything, really. Your mother was sitting back, smiling, one leg folded over the other with her head in a slight tilt that seemed deceivingly warm and intrigued. She wasn’t going to say it, but she didn’t have to. Chan was below your standards.

“You know, that’s good.” She pointed a finger at him. “I’d love to see the full routine one day. You’ve got that…” she swirled her hands around as though she were clearing a crystal ball, “that star factor. Very cool.”

“Thank you.” Chan grinned, setting his elbows onto the table where he then hiccupped quietly into his hands (it was more of a belch, but you were admittedly trying to water down how insensible he was in even your own mind).

If wizards were real, you were dying for one to zap you with the end of their wand, preferably into a pile of sparkly ashes.

Somehow, dinner came to an end. While Chan excused himself for a bathroom break, you stood at the sink with your mother, dutifully polishing the forks she’d set into the dry rack. It was silent for a minute or two. At least her heels were finally off, though bits of hair from that slicked updo were beginning to tickle her face while she scrubbed away at the plate. You really didn’t want to discuss what happened anyway. But after you organized the cutlery into the drawer, your mother gave you a look that felt loaded as she let the soapy water drain.

Well, here we go.

“You know, I don’t dislike him as much as you think I do. There’s definitely character. He’s just… far below you, in my opinion. And I wish I could say I understand why you’re dating him, but I don’t.”

Opting to stay silent, you wiped down the puddles around the sink.

“I won’t throw up all my inklings onto you now, especially when I know the kid’s down the hall, doing God knows what—and I can tell by this little shoulders-buckled, lip-tight thing you’re doing that you don’t wanna talk about it. Gosh… at least we’ve got leftovers for tomorrow.”

“Mmhm.” You hummed, just to acknowledge you’d heard her.

“Oh, you know who I liked? That brother, the brother of that girl you used to be best friends with. Jennie and… J-something. They both had names with J’s. Their mother is in such better shape than me. Help me out here. I know damn well that counter’s dry by now.”

Crossing your arms, you rolled the very corner of the dish towel between your thumb and pointer finger, feeling his name rise along the back of your throat like it was being summoned out, against your will.

“Joshua.”

“Yes! Him! I adored that one. I always thought he liked you, too.”

“Mom! I don’t think we should be talking about this.”

“It’s true! I mean, he drove you home from school all the time. He always bought you things. And he had these eyes that were just… he looked at you different, so deeply, like he truly cared about you. I just—I know he’s older, two years or something, but I felt safe whenever you said you were with him. I kept waiting for him to come here for dinner.”

“I said we shouldn’t be talking about this and you’re talking about it!”

“Okay well I—”

The bathroom door squeaked open from down the corridor.

Both of you sealed your mouths shut.

It was 10pm, and Chan was asleep at your side, the two of you miraculously cramped onto the twin size bed shoved against the wall with the sheets pulled a generous amount onto his half. Not that you cared. It was warm in your bedroom, and the heat from your hard backs pressed together was making you slightly sweaty. To feel uncomfortable in your own home was one thing—but in your own bedroom? The place you had perfectly cultivated over the years to always feel comfortable? Part of you wanted to crawl out from your own skin like that was something humans did. Chan was a great friend. Maybe it should have stayed like that.

Or, maybe it was just late, and you were too warm to think with clarity.

Wedging out your phone from beneath the quilt, you took a cautious peak over your shoulder, only to see the dark, dim outline of Chan’s shoulder bone digging into yours. Then, you turned back to your phone.

Instagram. That was usually what you did when you couldn’t sleep. A filtered and superficial glance into the very uninteresting lives of people who thought they were interesting was certain to make you tired.

A picture of Seungkwan with his empty script book.

Oh, there’s Seokmin eating ice cream with his girlfriend.

Marina? Since when did you follow her? Apparently, you did. Probably when you thought it was still possible to mesh yourself into her friendship with Jennie and become the triplet friend group everyone was envious of. Except you strongly disliked Marina. And Jennie hated you.

You two still followed each other.

@jennie.hg commented on @marinascapilatti’s photo: “HOT. SMOULDERING. FUCKING SEXY AS FUCK.”

@marinascapilatti replied to @jennie.hg: “LMAO. love you sm babe!!”

For some reason, you clicked on Jennie’s profile. Thumbing to the bottom, you realized she hadn’t removed the old pictures of you two together, even if they were from two or more years ago. Jennie had never been one to constantly delete pictures and reshape her account as she got older. She liked the memories. The beauty of an archive. Letting people know exactly who she had been because that was never a concern to her.

You opened a picture she had posted on your birthday three years ago.

@jennie.hg: a lot of u ppl know this girl. she’s my best friend or something. since sixth grade. it’s her birthday. so if you don’t wish her a happy birthday then you’re dead to me and you suck! xo.

That day, people you had never spoke to more than once or twice said happy birthday to you in the halls, or in the lunch line, on the way into your next class, even in the washroom. You decided to look at more comments on the picture, pausing on one in particular.

@joshua_hong_1230: it’s your birthday? happy birthday!:)

Fuck. Were you really about to do this? With your boyfriend asleep beside you, so close that he was crushing you into the wall?

A deep, deep sigh.

Yes.

First, you had to unblock him, convincing yourself it would only be for a moment or two as you quickly gleaned his account (out of curiosity and definitely not the emotion tugging your heart in a very sensitive direction). Pressing onto the most recent picture, you bit your lip.

404 likes. 51 comments. @joshua_hong_1230: clink.

Him and his university friends crowded around a restaurant table, half-emptied glasses of alcohol and dinner plates everywhere. You only recognized Jeonghan who was right beside Joshua in the photo. On his other side, a girl you had never seen before. She was leaning into him closely, her hair tousled in pretty, effortless manner that somehow reminded you of Elsie. Continuing down the rabbit hole, you opened her profile. Her name was Daphne. She was in biomed. Cute sundresses that hugged her shape in all the right places glowing from her feed. 

As much as you wanted to believe you were genuinely interested in this Daphne girl’s life, you weren’t. What you really wanted to know was obvious. In fact, it slapped you in the face, filled you with shame and embarrassment and now you were stuffing your phone beneath the cold side of the pillow hoping it would disappear.

Stop thinking about him.

Stop comparing yourself to everyone in his life.

Valentine’s Day seemed to come out of nowhere. One minute you were scalding your tongue with the taste of disgustingly hot cocoa, attempting to stick together a gingerbread house using prayers and pastry icing, and peeking between your blinds at the carollers who were singing the loudest version of Silent Night that you’d ever heard. But then you had blinked, and suddenly everything was pink. Roses were being sold in the front foyer (you specifically told Chan not to purchase one because you knew that under your care, it would wilt in a week) and the number of cinnamon hearts you’d smelled on people’s breath was almost concerning. Not to mention the Stupid Cupid Dance was tonight.

At first, you didn’t want to go. Most memories you recalled of the dance were actually quite pleasant, though Jennie had still been your best friend then, and jumping around manically with her while student council showered the crowd with candy grams eased the sting of not being with him. However, Chan was oddly passionate about going. He didn’t swoon to your idea of staying home with a movie and some cheap sugar cookies. In fact, he even offered to accompany you with your dress shopping, though you both got insanely bored halfway through the process and decided to play games at the arcade instead. The best outfit you could muster was a long, oversized dress shirt with a stylish belt to wrap around the waist, alongside some thigh-high pink socks.

It was… definitely something.

The dance was roughly two hours away. You were lounging across your bed, twirling a cherry-flavoured sucker against the inside of your cheek. Chan was sitting on the floor, still trying to fix his tie.

“Do you want me to look up a tutorial or something?” You asked in a bored tone, temple feeling sore from leaning against your fist.

With his tongue curling against his lip, Chan declined. “No, no, think I’ve almost got it… just gotta slip it up and under and… there!”

You could hardly choke out a lukewarm congratulations as you completely spread out across the bed sheets, blinking up the ceiling with the sticky taste of cherry on your lips. Chan edged off the floor and sat beside you, prompting you to raise your head onto his lap.

“Dunno if it’s a good thing to bring up, but your mood is a little… it’s not doing too great, babe. Is there anything I can do?”

Obviously, you wanted to skip the dance. It’s not that you believed it would be unenjoyable with Chan—he did have the tendency to wander and was easily absorbed into conversations with friends, almost exiling you to stand there stiltedly the entire time—but other than that, he was a fantastic dancer and you loved watching him (you had never once danced with him at a party because you felt more like a hindrance to his spotlight). Besides, the gym was only so big, and since Jeonghan had graduated there was no one else at the school to host blow-out parties.

“What if we just didn’t go?” You mumbled around the sucker.

“Uh—no! We have to! Seungkwan’s gonna meet us there.”

“I know, I know. But we can do something fun that’s not the Stupid Cupid Dance! Like, um—we could—there’s always—how about we go the river? It’ll be a little chilly but we can bring our jackets. I think fresh air is what I need. You could teach me to skip rocks.”

Chan’s hand fell into your hair. It felt sympathetic.

“Skip rocks? What makes you think I can do that?”

Pushing yourself up, you groaned, “I don’t know, Chan. I just don’t want to go. Can we make a compromise at least?”

Your boyfriend paused for a moment, slumping against the wall and pursing his lips like he was tediously wracking his brain.

“We can stay for two hours. Then we can go to the river and throw rocks, or whatever it was—the thing you just said.”

“Yes, thank you, thank you!”

He seemed surprised at how ecstatic you behaved, his hands  rather delayed as they climbed up to your hips, responding to the hug you had draped him in. You pressed a kiss against his cheek, then a swift one to his mouth, knowing he could taste the cherry and how sweet it was.

“The song—the song, they’re changing the song!”

“Yeah, I know, I can hear it—”

“Can you hold this? And this? And my phone—last time it flung out of my pocket and I got big crack in my screen protector.”

“No, Chan—can you wait? It’s almost time to go—”

“I promised that I would do this dance with Seungkwan!”

“So you’re leaving me alone?”

“No, no, no—just—it will be fun! And I’m really good at the dance for this song. Watch me and you’ll see. Thanks, babe! You’re the best!”

“The promise you made to Seungkwan,” you sagged, attempting to hold his suit jacket, drink, and phone all in one severely cramping hand, “what about the promise you made to me?” Walking over to the bench in the gym corner, you set all his possessions down one at a time, gritting your teeth. “I love how much I matter to you, babe.”

You squinted at the exit across the room and attempted to maneuver your way toward it, twisting and wriggling and tiptoeing around everyone until this girl had stepped backward into your way. She flicked a straight curtain of hair over her shoulder and you smelled tart perfume—almost nauseating—as she talked with her friend.

“I feel like these parties were so much better when they weren’t school-sanctioned! No one in student council is stepping up. Why do all the seniors suck this year? Where is everyone with surgeon parents?”

“I know. People were moving the tiles in the girl’s washroom at lunch so they could put Vodka bottles up there. It was so funny.”

“Someone will snitch and they’ll make us do the breathalyser thing—no way they’re doing that to me! It’s like, my right or something.”

“Hey guys, pardon me, I’m going that way.”

“You’re going where?”

“That way, to the exit.”

“You’re trying to leave? Are you going to the washroom? They make you write down your name, y’know, on this clipboard, and they time you. Isn’t that fucking stupid? Like, if you take an extra minute to piss or open a tampon, they’re going to call your parents.”

“Um, that’s—”

“Like, ouuu, I’m so scared. Hey, are you rich by any chance? Not even rich—just like, you’re moderately above average and it’s likely that you have an inground pool? Or, you know someone who is rich?”

“I don’t, sorry…”

“Fuck—it’s whatever.”

“Can you move now? I’m leaving.”

“Oh, yeah—sorry. But you heard the thing I said right, about the washrooms and the clipboard? I hope you’re not going piss!”

Her and her friend were now too far behind you for a response to be meaningful. Your head was throbbing, almost like there was gun powder sitting in your skull instead of a brain, awaiting the flare to thunderously ignite. You tried to slink past the vending machines on your way out, hoping to be inconspicuous and unimportant.

“Uh—excuse me, young lady. I can’t let you walk out. It’s a little loud but I know you hear me.” The teacher started waggling her finger.

“Sorry.”

“Where are you going? Washroom? You’ll need to write your name down on this clipboard as well as the time. I know students have been complaining about this, but it’s a rule and no one is exempt.”

“No, I don’t need the washroom. My head hurts.”

“At least four other girls have told me that, then I saw them all together with this big bottle, stumbling around the track field when I was supervising. Just hold on a moment, I’ll radio a teacher to go with you outside. That way you can get some fresh air, and we know you’re not up to anything that’s against the rules. Can I have your name?”

“Is it for the clipboard?”

“Yes… I have a pencil—here.”

“Well… I don’t need someone to go with me outside.”

“It’s the rule. We need to keep track of all students.”

“I don’t have any alcohol. Or cigarettes.”

“I understand that, but—hey! Hey! You are not allowed to go anywhere unless—young lady, this is not okay!”

You heard the blip on her walkie-talkie as she attempted to alert some other teacher. She’d been following you to the doorway at the front of the school, though she stopped the second you were outside, picking up your pace until you were almost sprinting away from her. It was hardly rebellious—in your eyes, you saw it as less than pathetic. You had decided to turn cheek and flee from her like you had been sent to your room.

Chan wasn’t anywhere close to the boyfriend you had been convincing yourself he was. You didn’t even take his phone or dump his things on the floor or break up with him in the middle of the dance floor as some sort of hedonistic, petty revenge that wouldn’t bare any significance a year from now. Everything had felt so colourless and dull lately. You couldn’t tell if it was your own fault or not.

Balancing your feet at the very edge of the curb, you wondered why February had to be such an awful month. Nothing good had happened since it started. And now it was chilly and wet and dark outside, with big lumps of grey, dirt-speckled snow spilling hideously all over the place. You had left your jacket inside. The thinness of your long dress-shirt let the cold prick you like little razors, and you were beyond tired at pulling up those thigh-high socks which kept shrinking down your legs. February felt like it was asking to be punched in the face.

It seemed like just yesterday you were standing in this exact spot, beside Jennie, squinching through the brightness of a summer sky. You remembered waiting for her brother to appear around the corner in his silver car, his stereo vibrating with different songs each time, the interior smelling like mint gum and foam cleaner. Hansol was always in the front seat, sticking his hand out the window, singing confidently into the oncoming breeze with the boxiest grin on his face. You remembered the intense nervousness you felt accidentally catching Joshua’s eye in the rear-view mirror—how your fingers curled from the anxiety.

The air was too cold for you to stand still. Once a shudder wracked along your arms, you decided to keep walking, kicking a pebble that had melted out from another mushy pile of snow. Upon reaching the end of the sidewalk, extremely bright lights flooded behind you and the pebble was somehow swallowed up. An engine was guzzling heavy at your side and you contemplated crossing the street despite the pixelated red hand glaring at you. Then, you heard a window roll down.

“Are you the type of girl I can p—”

“I’m seventeen,” you interrupted, refusing to acknowledge the man who was eyeing you a little too excitedly from inside his vehicle.

“Well, I have a nice warm truck right here, in case you want to hop inside if you need a ride anywhere. I can unlock the door for ‘ya.”

“I said I’m seventeen.”

“I’ve seen lots of women like you when I wa—”

“I’m not a woman, I’m a teenager.”

You looked at him once through the inky shadows and saw that merely the outline of his face was visible, with slight glints hollowing what you suspected were his eyes. Something in your chest wobbled. The second the walking-man appeared, you hurried across the street with your thumbs tucked deeply into your fists. Too afraid to continue home alone, you swung into the corner store with the spring-painted overhang you had loved so much in your past, pretending to need something. You paused at the slushie machine—the greatest contributor to all your after-school brain freezes and headaches. An ‘out of order’ sign was taped to the glass. From the peeled, slightly stained edges of the paper, you assumed no one had bothered stopping by to repair it in months.

There wasn’t anything you could buy anyways. Joshua had always bought you a drink or a bag of mostly-air packaged chips when you stopped here—either that or he would give you something he bought for himself. At times you would sit beneath the overhang together, bracing through salt and vinegar flavoured chips that stung the soft, cushioned inside of your mouths, drinking soda, throwing the little stones at your feet. For the first time in a long while, you admitted it.

You missed him.

When the clerk disappeared underneath the counter to dislodge another magazine he had most likely read for the hundredth time, you slipped out the door delicately. You then removed your phone from its very convenient spot (tucked between your bra, obviously). For a moment, you studied the number that you had once blocked in the dusk of summer—certain it would never be touched again no matter how much you could be hurting, crying, or grieving the pieces of love you had somehow lost along the way. And you stayed true to that certainty. You didn’t unblock Joshua’s number, rather you just tempted yourself with the idea of it, like smelling a piece of cake but never taking a bite.

Of course, it was unsatisfying. But you pretended it wasn’t.

The river had to be nearby, the sort of thing you could always tell was getting closer and closer because the water sounded like busy wind in tree leaves. It started appearing over a distant crest, which you eventually came to pause at, staring down unto the bank and its large slabs of rock that were now frosted with snow. This was the place you were supposed to be with Chan—if he hadn’t completely ignored your compromise. The fact he wasn’t texting you, worried sick or even an inch concerned, engendered you to think you weren’t really anything to him at all. He didn’t want to be tethered by a girlfriend, that was obvious.

You stared for a little longer, growing colder and stiffer, tracing the places you stood when Joshua had been showing you how to skip stones. But then you started hearing footsteps crunch in the snow, and as you squinted down the bank, you sucked in a dry, freezing breath.

“Jennie!” Your voice cracked. “What the hell are you doing?!”

The girl stopped abruptly, and her shoes sunk awkwardly into the snow, her face visibly flushed in the street lights shining down on the shore. She seemed almost embarrassed to be caught by you, though it should have been the other way around, considering your last words to her were about her older brother rejecting you whilst sat on his lap.

“I’m walking to the corner store!” Jennie shouted back, burying herself deeper into the brown coat draped over her shoulders.

“Why?!”

“Why does it matter?!”

“… Uh, I dunno!”

“If you keep yelling, you’ll start an avalanche somewhere!”

“You’re yelling too!”

Somehow, you successfully managed your way down the riverbank without slipping on a hidden piece of ice. Jennie huffed as you approached her, shaking snow clumps off her sneaker.

“Why don’t you just take the sidewalk?” You asked.

It felt inconceivably strange to look at her face this directly after the fight—to gauge the slow unfurling of maturity in her cheekbones and jawline—to realize how tall she suddenly was—even her impressively long hair which surrounded her like a rippling, black sea. She took a moment before answering, leading you to believe she had studied your face as well. The thought made you uncomfortable yet pleased.

“Why are you dressed like a Dollar Store hooker?”

You couldn’t help but guffaw at that—her humour hadn’t evolved much.

“I went to the Stupid Cupid Dance.”

“Oh—that.”

“Why didn’t you go?”

“Uh… I don’t know,” Jennie shrugged, her eyes drifting along the dark expanses behind you, “I didn’t have anyone to go with.”

“You don’t need a date—”

“No—like, I know that. I don’t have any… friends, I mean.”

“That’s not true. I see you with people all the time. You’re popular as shit. What about Marina? Is she sick?”

“No. We haven’t been talking lately. I don’t think I missed out on anything, anyways. You already left, and by the looks of it, the dance was so bad you didn’t even want to stay to get your jacket. I don’t know how you’re not freezing your tits off. I’m cold, and I have a coat.”

“Yeah, I am cold, but I didn’t wanna go straight home ‘cause this weirdo pulled up beside me at the crosswalk. I was actually supposed to come here with Chan—he clearly had other things that mattered more.”

“Your boyfriend’s kinda lame.”

“Okay—yes, you’re right. Ouch, though.”

“I mean, you tend to like lame guys—my brother, for example.”

The nausea in your stomach dropped. It was a very sickly swirling of butterflies and the slight urge to vomit onto the snow, though you tacked a smile upon your face that definitely wasn’t as soft as you thought. Jennie then blew a strand of hair from her eyes, beginning to shake her head at you. It seemed that she wasn’t bitter, just confused.

“Well, he rejected me,” you stated simply.

She huffed in a gloomy breath, “I know.”

It was quiet again.

“I don’t like him anymo—”

“Oh—just stop, okay?” Jennie exhaled deeply through her teeth, and her gaze burned into yours like a flaming arrow. “I always suspected you had a crush on him. I don’t care anymore. I just wanted reasons to be mad at you since we were growing apart, and there wasn’t even a good explanation for it. I thought if I made up a reason to just—I don’t know—hate you, then it would make me feel better about us. We aren’t friends anymore and that’s fine. That’s what happens. That’s life.”

You struggled to swallow. It felt like the cold air had somehow frozen your throat, and now you could only stare at Jennie, speechless.

“He was so angry at me,” the girl continued, brushing something wet and shiny from her pink-stained cheek, “when I finally cracked and told him about our fight. I mean, he’s been like, ‘mad’ before, but never angry. Until then. Almost yelling at me—just, a bunch of emotion all over his face and stuff. I knew he was in love with you. He never wanted to say it, but he didn’t have to—like I said, he’s lame.”

For some reason, you couldn’t help chuckling.

“Oh yeah, he loves me—like a friend.”

“He just didn’t want to pressure you.”

“Jennie, I was in your brother’s fucking lap, kissing him. He didn’t pressure me at all. And he said something like, ‘I can’t do this, I shouldn’t do this’, and he didn’t even try to stop me from leaving. How could I have made it any clearer I wanted him?”

“Okay—well! My brother is an idiot, then! I don’t know what else to tell you—he got cold feet, he was worried about a long-distance relationship, it all felt too soon, he wasn’t sure how I’d react—I don’t know what he was thinking. I just know he had feelings for you, and if I somehow interfered and ruined it for you two, I’m sorry. But at this point, I don’t care what happens. I honestly never did. Just don’t pretend that you’re not still in love with him ‘cause you think I’ll be mad about it.”

After a tired, musing sigh, you broke off from her eyes and stared across the river, rubbing at your cheeks that were numb and stiff. It was then you realized how fucking insufferably cold you were, to which Jennie unzipped her long brown coat, gesturing for you to huddle beside her underneath it. You didn’t hesitate—not even for a second.

“It’s atrocious out here,” she breathed unsteadily into the lashing wind, “my house is closer than yours. You can warm up there.”

“Didn’t you need to go to the convenience store?”

You heard the smile she fought to supress as she huffed, “I lied. I was just taking a walk. I don’t know why I lied about that.”

“When it’s this cold?”

“Shut up! You have no room to talk right now.”

“I know, I know. But, really—you could have just stayed home.”

With a secure grip on her far shoulder, you both made baby steps up the riverbank, back toward the street. Jennie clutched your waist.

“I’m tired of being at home. I don’t have anything to do there.”

You giggled, “why not watch a movie? Or play a video game?”

“It’s not fun by yourself.”

“Well, we should do that—watch a movie or something. I wanted to stay home, anyways. And we can make big mugs of hot chocolate.”

“I think we have marshmallows,” Jennie said while smiling.

For some reason, you thought you could cry. There seemed to be a distant, swelling sting pressing at the back of your eyes, enough for you to sniffle and thickly swallow, though the tears never actually fell. It was just… nice… to talk with Jennie again. She was the one part of your life that you believed would always stick, and having her slip so rapidly from between your fingers had been a tough knife in your back. You weren’t positive if after tonight things would still be this cordial. Maybe you two would wake up again, knowing there was nothing left but dust in all the cracks and crevices of your friendship. It was impossible to say.

Right now, however, she was the person you needed most.

You sensed it was the same for her.

Joshua came home at the beginning of June.

A little less than a year had passed since you last saw him at his graduation party—the day responsible for birthing your abruptly decided choice to weed him from your life. It was easier to commit to such an extremity knowing he was hundreds of kilometers away. Yet, that didn’t mean it was easy exiling him. How were you supposed to forgot about someone who spent the last five years comfortably burrowing in your head and heart? And—right when you thought it was possible to finally cut the remaining wire, he pulled back into the Hong driveway in that silver bullet car like he’d never left. As easy as a cool breeze.

You were walking to the corner store that day, knowing they had a help wanted sign currently hanging in their window. It seemed like a simple gig, it’s just that you wouldn’t be allowed to ring up cigarettes, lottery tickets or beer. Passing Joshua and Jennie’s house was almost inevitable, though you had officially accepted the portrait of their driveway without that silvery, shiny car. So, when you casually flicked your head left to glimpse their house across the street, you were stunned and even horrified to see the vehicle once erased from your thoughts.

It was reversed into the driveway. The trunk was popped open, and judging by their open garage, someone was lugging suitcases into the house. You didn’t move for a solid minute. Instead, you watched the trunk, as you swore that someone was digging through it. And then you saw a hand touch the top edge, running along its chrome embellishment before beginning to slam it down. You knew it was Joshua before you even saw the person’s face—he had very particular ways of doing things. At first, he didn’t notice you while adjusting the duffle bag strapped over his shoulder and the backpack hanging off his other arm. The lanyard to his car keys was cutely dangling from his mouth.

His eyes impetuously scanned the street, whisking over you like the dull detail nobody was moved enough to highlight—until something about him jerked and suddenly he was squinting directly at you. He slowly took the car keys from his mouth, continuing to observe you from across the street, most likely attempting to fill in the differences of your face and figure—decide if it was even you, he was squinching at.

Immediately, you felt sick to your stomach.

Every single emotion, thought, and feeling came stampeding back through your bones and your skin and your blood. It was almost suffocating—like witnessing a tidal wave of your own secrets looming so far above that you needed to crane your neck to find where it stopped. In your next breath, you were walking away, refusing to look back.

The worst part was feeling Joshua watch you.

The worst, worst part was knowing you weren’t any less in love with him than before he left.

[ jenn-E | 2:14 pm ]: if ur heading to the house now I prob won’t be home for another half hour. stupid dentist appointment!! >:(

[ _____ | 2:14 pm ]: do you not have a drill in ur mouth rn?

[ _____ | 2:14 pm ]: you’re being such an irresponsible patient!!

[ jenn-E | 2:14 pm ]: she left the room. and I like the drill.

[ _____ | 2:14 pm ]: weirdo alert

[ jenn-E | 2:14 pm ]: RUDE!!!

[ jenn-E | 2:14 pm ]: see u soon <3 garage door should be open

[ _____ | 2:15 pm ]: okay! byebye <3

You slid the phone back into your shorts pocket, continuing down the sidewalk with one eye pierced shut. The sun was beaming on you so intensely that you felt the warm sting along your arms and legs, and there was probably a sweaty shine brighter than the north star reflecting off your forehead. Sometimes summer was insufferable. It felt like there was nothing you could do to cool down. There better be ice cream in the fridge, you thought, or a whole package of popsicles. As you drew nearer to the house, you saw that the garage door was indeed open. Then you started walking hurriedly into their driveway.

It was too goddamn hot out.

“Yeah, I’ll try that next… Mmhm… I thought it went the other way?... No—the other, other way… Dude? Are you fucking stupid?... I didn’t mean that, I didn’t mean it… Never mind Jeonghan, I meant it.”

Oh no. Joshua wasn’t supposed to be at home today. His car wasn’t in the driveway, so you hadn’t anticipated marching straight into this astonishingly awkward predicament. You forgot about the old couch they kept in their garage. Jennie used to quip and demand for Joshua to play his guitar there since she couldn’t stand the noise of him railing on the chords. He was speaking to someone on the phone—Jeonghan, his roommate—though he was wearing his earbuds so Joshua hadn’t heard you come in. For a snap-instant, you contemplated turning the other way and making a very understandable sprint back home.

“Okay, just send me the chord progression you’re thinking of then… Oh? Wait, I have my guitar, listen to this… Good, right?... If there’s tweaks then—yeah, yeah, exactly… Just send me it and I’ll—”

Well, it was too late for that, anyway. Joshua had finally noticed you standing like some ghostly apparition who definitely thought they were invisible by the garage threshold. His eyes widened in shock, and you couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile as he attempted to push his roommate off the phone. You sighed, walking toward him slowly.

“I have to go—‘cause, I do!... No I would never do that, I really need to go, though… Send-me-the-chord-progression-okay-bye!” He chucked the last sentence together so quickly it sounded like one word and proceeded to pull out his earbuds.

You had no idea what to do, what to say, or how to piece together an expression on your face that wasn’t strained. He cleared off the coffee table of its old magazines and thick newspapers, to which you sat down across from him with clammy hands clutching your shorts and the largest lump in your throat. God—you hadn’t seen his face in nearly a year, and what a beautiful face he had. His hair was the slightest bit copperier, like it had been sun-kissed, and his skin seemed to have tanned as well. Even his cheeks had maturely sharpened out. You had trouble staring at him, especially his eyes, because you knew exactly how they made you feel—it was a drink of something warm and sweet and glimmery.

“So…” Joshua started to lean back, plucking a few soft strings on his guitar, “I’m still blocked, y’know? Just in case you forgot.”

“I haven’t,” you reminded him in an instant, trying inconceivably hard not to let the dopiest fucking smirk take over your face.

“You hate me?”

“No.”

“Do you want to hate me?”

“What’s the point of this?” Discretely rubbing off your palms, you managed to lock eyes with him, though only for a second.

Joshua shrugged, quirking his head at you.

“I’m trying to figure out why I’m still blocked.”

“Because I needed to get you… out.”

“Out of what?” He chuckled. “Your life?”

His question, you didn’t answer. These weren’t exactly things you wanted to admit aloud, let alone to the face of the person who was the subject. It seemed embarrassing, and maybe it shouldn’t be—maybe you should just own how you felt during those moments because you deserved the chance to finally just breathe. Stop holding things so tight until they popped into an explosion like the fight with Jennie.

“Yes,” you sighed after the brief silence, “I was hurt, and I was angry, and I didn’t want to sit in those feelings. That’s it.”

Joshua nodded, “because of what I said to you that day.”

“Essentially, yeah.”

You weren’t sure if he was going to apologize again. It hadn’t done him any good the last time, so you assumed he wouldn’t bother. For a moment, you contemplated asking him about what Jennie had told you that night at the river, when she revealed that he supposedly loved you.

Nothing ever left your mouth. The timing wasn’t right.

“So, do I get unblocked or not?” Joshua huffed.

Your feet crossed shyly. “Um, I’ll think about it… how’s school?”

“Uh, it has its ups and downs, highs and lows. I’m guessing you didn’t come here to ask about that. Jennie’s not home until later.”

“I know. She’s at the dentist.”

Joshua smiled, sitting up straighter and setting his guitar aside.

“Well, I’m glad you two patched it up. That doesn’t always happen. Not that there’s anything wrong with drifting away. I wasn’t sure if Hansol and I would keep talking. He’s in South Korea right now.”

“I heard, from Jennie.”

“Yeah,” the boy sighed, “they text and stuff.”

“Are you bothered by that?”

“No…?” Joshua replied ambiguously, scratching his head. “I haven’t decided yet. Hansol is cool, anyways. I’m not worried. But what about you? How’s your life been since I hit the city?”

At that, you leaned back against the coffee table and laughed, covering your mouth with a nervous hand. Upon first glance, it had been a boring yet deleterious mess—convincing yourself that you were happier and better off despite the very conspicuous hole suckling like a whirlpool in your chest. But if you looked a little deeper, it had been a journey of acknowledging said mess. You didn’t know how to explain it to Joshua.

“It was interesting.”

“Really? That’s all I get? I think you’re skirting the question.”

“Obviously,” you giggled again, “it’s a long story and not one you’d want to hear right now. I’ll tell you some other time.”

“Fine,” he succumbed, shoving his hands in his pockets, “did you get a boyfriend? Is that why you don’t wanna say anything?”

The heat engulfed you instantly, almost as though you were back outside and suffering under the density of those sun rays. The relationship with Chan had ended after the dance. He was utterly confused about the reasons why, prompting you to feel a bit of pity as you broke up him with him on his porch the next morning. Joshua tilted his head curiously, something a little playful and glinting in his eyes.

“I had a boyfriend,” you answered simply, almost whispered.

He started grinning, moving into an engaged position with his elbows on his knees. You quivered subtly at the closeness.

“Of course. Who?”

“Just, someone from my grade,” you prevaricated.

The boy’s gaze had fixed on you indefinitely.

“Who?”

“Someone.”

He gripped your shoulders—“Who?!”

You were burning up, and pushed him back—“Someone!”

Joshua collapsed against the couch, beginning to cross his arms while making a tsking sound with his teeth. The urge to excitably laugh hadn’t left the back of your throat, and you couldn’t stop mumbling around it as Joshua furrowed his brow at you. Having him touch you so suddenly struck a match. Your feelings hadn’t subsided in the slightest.

“I don’t think it’s important who. And, besides, you don’t deserve to know right now. We broke up back in February.”

“So, I don’t get to just know things about you now?” He asked, melting further down the couch. “I have to earn it?”

“Mmhm.”

He smirked, “fair enough… why’d you break up with him?”

“I didn’t say that I broke up with him.”

“Okay,” Joshua shrugged, losing his transient half-smile, “but we all know you did. Why? He didn’t treat you well enough, yeah?”

Your hands clenched together, pressing uncomfortably.

“We can talk about it later… what about you? Girlfriend?”

“No.”

You raised your brow and decided to poke at him, “wow—even with those eyes? Or does your sweetheart act not cut it anymore? Have you resorted to drugs, Joshua? It’s okay, you can tell me.”

“Oh, you’re so fucking funny,” he pretended to laugh while pushing his sneaker gently against your knee, “I just didn’t want one.”

Suddenly, your phone buzzed. Taking it out from your pocket, you saw that Jennie had sent a text about how she was heading home now. You swallowed tautly, glancing up at Joshua who seemed to realize what the vibration was. He looked rather disappointed, and you felt it deep in your gut too. There was so much more to talk about and joke about and this little sliver of time in the cool, shady garage had whipped past in a mere blink. But at least there was more transparency. Jennie knew and there was no reason to play coy. The whole summer and all its vibrance was still at your feet. You didn’t have to rush anything.

“It was nice catching up with you,” Joshua said, pulling the guitar back onto his lap, “shoot me a text whenever you decide to unblock me.”

“You won’t ignore me? Even with your big fancy university lifestyle now? Greasy takeout and bags of coins for the laundromat?”

“Never,” he smiled, winking casually, “by the way—”

Turning around in the doorway, you tilted your head at him.

“You look really pretty.”

18.

Joshua’s October reading week was nearly over—he’d be packing his suitcases tomorrow morning and escorted back into the city alongside some help from his father. You’d been invited over to their house for sushi night, to which you were currently fighting Jennie off with your chopsticks for the last yam tempura roll. She decided to let you have it, muttering something along the lines of, only because you’re the guest.

It had been roughly three years since your last dinner at their house, and while it was a bit nerve-wracking, you relaxed continuously throughout the night (which could be also attributed to the saké that Mrs. Hong let you pour a decent-sized cup of). Jennie slipped back into the dining room once she grabbed a soda can from the fridge, leaving you alone in the kitchen to decide between the last fried wonton or vegetable spring roll. You sighed, pinching your chopsticks in thought.

“Save room for dessert, y’know? They gave us ice cream.”

Joshua approached the sink, rinsing off his plate and emptied glass under the water. He’d drank more from that saké bottle than you, indicated by the peach-pink glow traversing his cheeks.

“I know, but I’m greedy. I haven’t eaten sushi in forever.”

He came beside you (who still couldn’t decide) and opened one of the drawers to remove some spoons for the ice cream. Joshua then proceeded to pick up the last golden-fried wonton with your chopsticks and dropped it onto your plate. You gaped at him as he nudged a quick kiss against your temple, watching the boy now pull open the freezer.

“I hadn’t made up my mind yet!”

Joshua shrugged, “now you don’t have to. The wonton is good, anyway. It’s got this slightly sweet cream cheese filling.”

“Blah, blah.”

Mrs. Hong entered the kitchen, exchanging a few words between you and Joshua while she cleaned her dishes. She said that her and her husband would be going upstairs to their bedroom for a movie.

“You and Jennie are welcome to do anything. Joshua—I’m guessing you’ll be in the garage? Or will you start packing tonight, dear?”

“Uh, I’ll start tonight. Makes it easier.”

“Okay, perfect. Here—I’ll help you take out the ice cream.” She took two of the bowls, but stopped in the doorway, “are you coming?”

“Yeah, I will,” Joshua replied, “in a sec.”

Once she left upstairs, you felt Joshua’s body push against your spine, his hand tapping your chin and lightly guiding your head to tilt back onto his shoulder. His parents didn’t know of the relationship and neither did yours. Only Jennie was aware. She had been easy to tell.

“I want to do something with you tonight,” Joshua whispered into your ear, his breath warm and ticklish, “after hours, of course.”

“Like what?” You asked in a soft, hushed tone, smiling against your bitten lip. The depth of his eye contact was so exhilarating that you wanted to pounce on him right then and there, refraining by a mere hair.

His hands drifted down to your hips, squeezing them.

“Nothing too special. I’ll surprise you.”

“Okay,” you lilted, “I like surprises. Sometimes.”

Immediately pushing up to meet his lips, you kissed him, lifting a hand behind you to run your fingers slowly through his hair. Put simply, the relationship had ignited just before Joshua left for his second year of university. He came to walk you home from a night shift at the corner store, the both of you kicking pebbles down the sidewalk and dancing around the topic that was so evidently dying to burst. That’s when you decided to ask him about what Jennie had said.

“Was she right? Were you in love with me?”

“Honestly, at the time, I don’t think I could have given you a straight answer. I knew that I felt something, but I wasn’t sure if it was right. You were always in the back of my mind. I thought about you more than I’d care to admit. But when I look at you now, I can definitively say I loved you... I love you, still. ”

Since the fading aurora of that late summer night, you two started dating. It was a fairly covert operation, yet that made it all the more alive and electrifying. The topic of the graduation party had consequently resurfaced—Joshua said he was just overwhelmed by his feelings for you, and that he crumbled in the moment. You didn’t care about the incident though. He was kissing and holding you now.

“Okay, let’s meet Jennie back in the dining room,” you giggled, pushing him away from licking and teething a mark to your neck, “and I’ll let you know what I think of this very crispy looking wonton.”

This year you and Jennie would be graduating. She had offered to do your nails and make-up, which were skills she had picked up from hanging out so frequently with her old girly-girl crowd. You had met some of them—the actually genuine ones who you could imagine holding back your hair during a wicked hangover or offering their most treasured life advice through a bathroom stall at a party. Jennie had maintained some of her interests from them, though she still liked the things you had originally known her for. It was a wholesome change.

“What style of nails do you want? Personally, I like the really pointy stiletto ones because it’s so easy to scratch people.”

“Of course that’s why you like them,” Joshua rolled his eyes, spooning some mango ice cream into his mouth.

“Maybe you could practice a bit on Joshua,” you laughed.

“Yes!” Jennie exclaimed, reaching over to ruffle her older brother’s pretty, mussed hair, “that’s so perfect, isn’t it, Joshy Woshy?”

He swatted her hand away, “I told you to stop calling me that. I don’t call you Jennifer anymore.” A gradual smirk crossed his lips.

That was the cardinal sin. Never call her Jennifer. You opted to stay quiet and finish your deep-fried wonton while they bickered and sniped at each other. At least it wasn’t about the fork with the oddly-dented prong this time. That always tended toward a wrestling match.

nsfw warning. 

skip to next divider if wanted!

“Shit, right there!”

Your hand flung into the darkness, bumping against the glass of the backseat window, its condensation wiped off in a messy, uncoordinated smudge. It felt too fucking good—his tongue, pressing up your most sensitive area, indulging slowly in each swirl and kiss and flick as if he would never get the opportunity to taste you here again. It was sometime past one in the morning, his car stalled in the empty lot overlooking the river bank, one single lamp post scattering the windows with a distant, glowing tint. You breathed in deep, closing your eyes.

“You like it that much?” Joshua laughed huskily, readjusting the leg cast down his shoulder. “You’ve got tears all over your face, baby.”

“Just give me more,” you whined in impatience, thrusting your hips toward his mouth with frustration, sensing his hovering breath.

He smirked, placing his thumb just above your clit and pulling back against the skin to expose it more clearly. Everything between your thighs had been generously drenched with your arousal and his spit.

“Are you sure? Think you can take cumming again? I won’t give you a break this time.” There was a teasing nature about his voice.

“Fuck, Joshua, I don’t care! Just keep licking me, please!”

“You’re so fucking whiney,” he murmured, suddenly jerking your body further down the upholstery, “I’ll let you drown me, then.”

In the next instant, his face was stuffed back into your heat, the touches of his tongue and the relentless slurping shooting every nerve in your body to starlight. You couldn’t help but thread your fingers into his wavy, sweat-dampened hair, holding him there as he practically drank you, feeling the pleasure tick higher and higher and higher. Even your hips adapted a mind of their own, attempting to grind against his face so that you could engulf him as much as possible. He caught onto your clit again, sliding his tongue directly into its most sensitive golden spot.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you moaned into the thick air, “like that, like that—hh-holy shit! M’g’nna cum, Joshua! Please, keep going!”

At that point, you didn’t even know what to articulate. A sheen of sweat had soaked through the thin t-shirt you wore to dinner, your skirt left in a pile in the passenger seat as it had been ripped off earlier. Joshua focused relentlessly on that one perfect spot until you tipped over the edge. The scream broke down in your throat before it could even hit the mugginess around you, not that anyone would have been able to hear you given the time. Contortions twitched through your face while your hips spasmed. And Joshua took it. He took everything. He was most definitely smirking as he slurped your pussy like ice cream—even pinned down your wrist when you began to weakly push and nudge at his head.

“Holy fuck, yy-you’re crazy, Jos—nngh!” Your voice wilted at the sensation of his tongue curling inside of you, wriggling just to ruin you a little further. Half your consciousness was floating in an intangible dimension behind your eyelids. “M’gonna be so fucking sore.”

Once he was satisfied with licking clean the mess between your thighs, Joshua ripped apart the buttons on your pale shirt, kissing up your stomach, your chest, pushing his slick lips onto yours and digging his warm tongue into your mouth. You grabbed his pants, helping tug them off while tasting every bit of yourself.

“I need t’fuck you so bad,” he whispered into your ear, his honeyed voice becoming coarser with desire, “while I still have your taste on my tongue—” your leg was then stretched over his shoulder again, “I need to be inside you more than anything—” he guided himself in with a single thrust, your gasps flushing together, “all these things I wanna do to you, all these things I wanna make you feel—” your nails carved into his back, dragging in scores across the muscle, “I want you t’keep crying for me—” his hand pressed into the slippery car window, leaving an imprint in the fog as he fluidly moved his hips against you, staring down at your wet, breathless face, “I want you to know how much I’m in love with you when I fuck your pretty body like this.”

Your lips trembled into a reverie-like smile. Gripping gently at the back of his neck, you sunk him down for a slow, thorough kiss.

“Love you too…” you whimpered, “ss-so much…”

The desperation and strength of your lust had just been too surmounting in the moment. Joshua hadn’t pulled out onto your stomach like he usually did, opting to keep himself nested inside as he shuddered and let his body release. When you came around him, there was next to nothing you remembered apart from the stars that twinkled through the open sky-light of the car and the intense convulsion you experienced while gazing at them. Joshua laid against you while he caught his breath. You couldn’t stop staring at the world above that resembled a beautiful black beach. There was something so spectacular about it—something so comfortable about quirking Joshua’s head toward the roof in order for him to see what you were seeing.

He nudged your temple with his nose.

“I didn’t plan for the stars to be out. I got lucky.” He answered in between warm breaths.

You turned to look at him with a faint simper. The tingles and throbs of pleasure were still pricking you, fading ever so gradually.

“I like to think they popped out just for us.”

He chuckled, “to see us have sex in the backseat of my car?”

You mushed a hand into his face, “don’t ruin the moment!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Joshua apologized, to which you stopped squishing your palm awkwardly into his cheek, “you’re right, they’re shining for us. Um, and, you’ve got your morning after, right? You said it was in your bag or something.”

“Yeah, I’ve got it. We probably shouldn’t be that careless.” You laughed.

“Probably. But you feel so good.” 

“I know,” you poked out your tongue playfully, “let’s just not make a habit of it.”

“Fair enough.”

“It’s getting pretty late, though. Don’t you want to be home at least a little early? Catch more sleep before leaving?”

He shook his head nonchalantly, then notched you closer against his bare skin by the hip. The motion prompted you to shiver at the sensitive feeling of him still deep inside you, a soft breath exhaled from between your lips. Joshua decided to sweep his fingers delicately up and down your face to relax you, knowing your nerves were rather burnt out.

“It’s alright. I have time with you now. That’s what I care about.”

Present.

It wasn’t the most ideal day to be moving cardboard boxes of your appliances, pictures, and whatever else miscellaneous belongings into the building— especially considering the three staircases you had to climb. Unfortunately, you couldn’t control the weather, and that seemed to be proved almost spitefully as a fat, cold raindrop spat directly onto your forehead. With two boxes balanced against your chest, you let it dribble down toward your eye, until you spotted Jennie hopping out the front door to the complex and whined for her to wipe the droplet away.

“At least all the super heavy stuff was moved up yesterday,” she tried to include something positive, flipping up the hood of her plasticky-green raincoat, “this is just the knickknacks. I hope.”

“Mostly—hey, can you grab that box with the lamp? It’s sitting behind the passenger seat. Oh, thank you—you’re a gem.”

“I know,” Jennie chirped, poking out her tongue.

By the time most cardboard boxes were moved into the apartment, you had experienced one downpour and another ditzy, sweet-smelling rain shower about half an hour later. The bottoms of your feet were aching. You kicked off your wet shoes onto the welcome mat and proceeded straight to the fridge, pulling out the first drink you saw—an orange cream soda. Officially toasting to your first apartment with some fancy alcohol would come later, when you weren’t damp and hungry and ready to chew someone’s head off like a dog with a meaty bone.

Joshua then pushed open the door, carrying what you assumed was the last box. He walked over to the living area, pausing for a brief moment as he decided where amongst the brown sea of cardboard it should be placed. You watched him balance it atop another big box.

“Please tell me there’s no more,” you pouted, leaning all your weight against the island countertop, “I’m about to disassemble.”

“Disassemble?” Joshua laughed, toeing off his shoes beside yours on the mat, “are you a Polly Pocket or something?”

“Yes, I am. You’re in a relationship with a piece of plastic.”

“Hm, I can’t believe I’m just figuring this out now.”

He opened the fridge, peering around inside. There wasn’t much to look at apart from some bagged vegetables, cheese, a single carton of coffee creamer, and the orange soda cans. You had opted for takeout tonight, but Joshua insisted that he should cook something special—a little market area was just down the street, anyway. He ended up grabbing a soda can, cracking it open over the sink with a satisfying hiss.

“Well, we live here now,” Joshua said, rubbing his hand down the back of your jacket, “was it a pain in the ass? Yeah. But we have a home.”

You straightened out, peeling yourself off the counter. The terrace was most definitely going to be your favourite part come summertime. Joshua liked the floor-length windows for the sunlight.

“Do you think you can buy garlic bread? Or—no—focaccia? The rosemary kind like we had at that restaurant in the fall? Don’t you remember how good that was? We couldn’t even eat our dinner.”

Joshua grinned, his hand lingering at your lower back as he brought the soda can to his lips, “I remember that place. I’m pretty sure I could make the focaccia too. Probably not too hard… anything else?”

After taking a sip from your own drink, you raised a brow.

“What do you mean?”

“Is there anything else you want for dinner?”

You smiled at him, leaning back against his chest.

“I’ll have to think about it.”

Suddenly, Jennie had poked her head through the door, waving you over with a hand. You exchanged a quick kiss with Joshua and approached her, to which you were abruptly dragged outside into the corridor, yelping. Jennie reached into her pocket for a moment.

“What’s this all about?” You grumbled.

The girl then shoved a tiny pink and white box into your chest.

“Oh my god—Jennie, I’ve told you! I’m not pregnant!”

“Like you actually know!” She rebutted, folding her arms and moving her soaked feet about nervously. “From what you’ve been telling me, it seems at least likely. You need to try it. And tell me!”

Taking a few seconds to glance over the box, you could only upend a gigantic sigh. Sure, you had told Jennie that your period was running late (but that wasn’t particularly rare for you), and you also complained about urinating more than usual. Besides, you and Joshua were fairly careful. You couldn’t remember a time when you hadn’t swallowed a plan b pill the following morning. Massaging at your sore temple, you decided to just capitulate and shove the box in your pocket.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“All you gotta do is pee on a stick, babe.”

“I know what I have to do—” you gesticulated with a wildly flailing hand, puffing out an exhale, “I just think these changes or irregularities or whatever you want to call them are a coincidence.”

“Blah, blah, blah. Just take the test.”

“Obviously, I will.”

“Thank you,” Jennie said, patting your shoulder, “I just don’t want this to sneak up on you—in case it’s true! Note I said in case!”

“Yes, I did note that,” a smile managed to plant on your exhausted face, “I’ll try it, okay? Are you staying for dinner?”

“Nah,” the girl waved her hand dismissively, “I’ll let you two enjoy the first night here, alone. But I will be returning, and I will be expecting Joshua to cook me an entire meal like he’s doing for you.”

“Aw, Hansol still hasn’t found his way around a grill, huh?” You giggled, recalling the last time you visited them for supper and the boy had somehow charred everyone’s burgers into measly black pucks.

“His mind wanders,” Jennie sighed hopefully, “he’ll get there.”

“I believe that too.” You agreed while taking a step forward, wrapping your best friend and her crinkly raincoat into a hug. She returned the embrace. Both of you were practically leaning on the other for stability, clearly beaten from those heavy, clunky boxes and the number of steps you’d taken since lunch. You stayed like that for a minute, until there was a mutual choice to lug your weight off each other.

“Sleep in tomorrow!” Jennie sang as she continued waving goodbye from down the corridor. “Get him to make you breakfast, too!”

“Obviously!” You called back, smiling and admittedly a bit teary.

When you returned inside the apartment, Joshua had already pulled out some things from the boxes. All the paintings were leaned up against the wall while a few of the kitchen appliances had been organized onto the counter. Looking outside, you saw it was starting to brighten up between the clouds, the still drops on the windows glistering.

Joshua then collapsed onto the couch he’d cleared off.

“So, what was that all for? Gossiping about me?”

You huffed innocuously and plopped down beside him.

“Imagine a world where we have nothing better to do than gossip about you? Can you imagine it? No? Me either, sweetie.”

He pulled your hand away from shaking his jaw.

“You’re annoying—what was it?”

Digging a hand into your pocket, you touched the edge of the pregnancy test, though you hesitated before revealing it. The more you thought into the possibility, the more your heart started pounding with the idea that it could be true—maybe you really were pregnant. No, you had to swat the anxiously bubbling feelings away. Cross the bridge when you get there. Heaving a big breath, you flicked the test onto his lap.

Joshua merely stared at it, until he picked up the box and began reading the label. His mouth fell open in a stutter, but then it closed and he quirked an eyebrow at you because his words just weren’t conjuring.

“Um, yeah. Jennie thinks I might be pregnant. So… that’s something fun I can try tonight. Dinner and a pregnancy test.”

“Are you actua—I mean, d-do you think you are?”

Pressing your head back into the couch, your eyes drifted along the ceiling in search of some concrete answer that just wasn’t there.

“I… don’t know…” you finally said, looking to your boyfriend who was glancing at the test again, “I told you about my period being late, but that’s happened before. And I’m having to pee a lot more than usual—I get headaches now and then. I just—maybe I am!” You slid further down the couch, biting your lip. “How would you feel if it was positive?”

“How would I feel?” He echoed, leaning forward to set the test on the coffee table, his hands clasping and rubbing together. “Obviously I’d be fucking ecstatic, sweetheart. But, I mean, this is your body, and—”

“Really?” That caught you by surprise.

You sat up and pulled your knees to your chest, angling your body to face him properly. “This is something you want? Like, I know we’ve glossed the topic before and we both agree that, yes, this is in our future. But… you’re okay if it… happens now?”

Joshua scooted closer to you, fitting his palm perfectly against your cheek. His gaze poured so intimately into yours, and it felt like an invisible thread was connecting your stream of thoughts and emotions.

“If it happens now then I’ll be even more excited,” his dampened hair brushed your forehead as you softly pushed your lips together, fingers skimming through his hair, “we’ll start with dinner, and we’ll see what happens afterward, okay?” 

He kissed you again, pulling your body closer and firmer into his chest. “I love you.”

You nodded appreciatively, whispering, “I love you, too.”

Of course, you had no idea what was going to happen with the pregnancy test, and even if you could somehow see into the future, what was the point of spoiling things for yourself? What was the point of knowing the punches if you were better off getting hit, anyway? You just needed to be patient. You needed to take each second, minute, and half-hour at a time, because the universe always seemed to have a place for you, even when it felt like you were floating alone at the farthest perimeters of its arms. Joshua got up from the couch, grabbing his wallet off the coffee table and slipping back into his shoes. He was going to the market. At least the sun was starting to make its golden blips down onto the earth after all the rain, so he wouldn’t be walking underneath darkness.

Right, dinner first.

That was how this whole thing started, anyway.

✧✎ TAGLIST: @02psh / @ally-127 / @astersg4rden / @aunty-tiger-potato / @boowanie / @celestialpearls / @dokyeomblr / @gventaken / @hesbambi / @honglynights / @hyuckworld​ / @j4d​ / @joshuahongsfuturewife / @joshuas / @junhuilov3r / @kellyooo13 / @koishua / @lovelywoo / @quicksilverster / @rae-blogging / @sseastar-main / @ucantstopthefunk / @woozes​ / @wonwoonlight​

Could not be tagged: @lovelacejun / @manamiyx / @notscoupy / @soonchanshua 

✧✎ a/n: OKAY. I’M SO HAPPY THIS IS DONE. this fic wouldn’t have taken me so long if 2021/2022 hadn’t been as busy as they were!! again, i just want to fork out a massive apology for my inactivity! i hate producing so little writing but knowing ME and my undying urge to write questionably long fics, i somehow created a very counterproductive system LOL. 

anywho, i honestly loved every opportunity i had to work on this fic since it follows the reader as they grow up, and, coincidentally, i also grew a lot during the literal fucking year it took me to finish this. there are so many new scenes compared to the og version and i personally adored writing the side-arc between reader & jennie:_) and i tried to add some humourous stuff too since it got a little angsty at times!! i hope anyone who finishes this fic develops even the slightest bit of joy that i felt while writing it. THX SO MUCH! LUV U.

#joshua scenarios #seventeen scenarios #joshua fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #joshua smut #joshua fluff #seventeen angst #joshua angst #joshua hong #seventeen x reader #joshua x reader

[isimpfortoomanypeople]

Hey if your still taking requests please could u write non abusive Nate Jacobs x reader where the reader struggles with anxiety and just how he would comfort her just really fluffy

Thank u have a nice day/night :)

You’re safe with me- Nate Jacobs x Fem Reader

You’ve always had anxiety for as long as you could remember. When one bad anxiety attack happens during lunch all you need is the one person who knows how to comfort you.

Warnings: anxiety attacks mentioned in detail, negative self talk, mentions of periods, the reader not having the best parents, girls at school being jealous of yours and Nate’s relationship, and Nate being incredibly sweet and comforting (he maybe out of character but enjoy the fluff)

A/N: I want to thank you so much for being incredibly patient with this request. I love this request and as someone who also has anxiety all I want is for Nate to comfort me in this way. I hope that you enjoy this request and I apologise if it isn’t good as I’ve taken a month off from writing but I’m back now. I’m from the U.K. so I’m sorry if any parts sound overly British, also I apologise for all spelling and grammatical mistakes as I’m super dyslexic, enjoy.

You don’t know how it happened. One minute you were laughing at something your friend said, the next minute life felt like a dream. Your friend who was once sat by your side now felt like they were miles away, as their voice became muffled and distant as the imaginary distance increased.

The pressure in your head increased as if your whole head was submerged under water, as if an imaginary force pressed your head under water refusing to let go. You wanted to scream but it felt like your lungs were burning, as your skin pricked in a hot sweat, as your breathing rapidly increased. You were pretty sure that you were hyperventilating but you couldn’t force yourself to breathe, your gaped mouth desperately trying to swallow down some air but to your distress you simply couldn’t breathe.

The room felt like it was spinning around you as the LED bulbs of the cafeteria burnt your eyes, your body willing you to run away but instead your body was frozen to the spot in fear. Dropping your head against the cool cafeteria table while your whole body shook with violent waves of anxiety.

You could have been laid there with your head on the table for seconds? For hours? Time seemed to be moving incredibly slow as if the whole world has long left you behind, leaving you to be consumed by your anxiety that you begged to stop. All the techniques that your councillor has taught you was long forgotten, too overtaken by the throws of your anxiety to look for the nearest red object or 5 things you could feel.

“Babe?” A concerned voice called out to you, it was muffled and faint but at least it was audible. You could recognise whose voice was calling out to you, the only person who was able to comfort you when you were in complete distress, the only person who could break through the thick concrete walls that your anxiety created between you and the world.

———————————————————————————

You struggled with anxiety for as long as you could remember, you’ve always had a nervous disposition as a child but it wasn’t till middle school did you realise that anxiety had a name. That every time you grabbed on to your mom’s leg as she dropped you off to preschool, crying and begging her not to leave you, or when you panicked when you first gotten your period believing that there was something was seriously wrong with you. All those times where you were told to act your age or told to stop crying over something small, you came to realise that it wasn’t you being pathetic or whatever names was thrown at you. You had anxiety and saw a therapist as young as 13 years old to help create coping skills when the world came too much to bare.

———————————————————————————

It was very touch and go, mostly good days where you could easily distract yourself or take yourself outside for a few deep breaths, whenever you felt your heartbeat start to race and your breathing hitching slightly. But on bad days it feels like all hell breaks loose, nothing could calm you down. It’s awful it feels suffocating, you can’t breathe and it genuinely feels like you’re dying, especially when there is no warning sign of a potential flare up.

Sometimes it’s stress of having everything piled on your shoulders with heavy responsibilities weighing you down, the down side of being a people pleaser is that you could never say the word no. Sometimes it’s the overwhelming pressure that your parents pushed on you, nothing you did was ever good enough or why couldn’t you be like your sister who effortlessly achieved straight As and was cheer captain and prom queen.

But today you overheard the sly comments and remarks chiding about your relationship with the king of East Highland Nate Jacobs. No matter how many times you told yourself that they were jealous of you and their downgrading comments was just a way of projecting their own insecurities, as they didn’t know how to deal with it so they found it easier to push someone else down rather than acknowledge their own issues.

But their comments slipped its way through the cracks of your critical thinking and clamped down on your anxiety, making your mind turn and your thoughts dark. You’ve always felt deep down that Nate was too good for you, you were a shy wallflower who easily blended into the background. Nate was much better suited to a pretty cheerleader rather than you. so it’s just a matter of time before Nate wakes up and faces the facts, and it won’t be long till he’ll throws you to the wayside where you belong.

“Babe?” Nate called again, his voice remained steady and calm not wanting to aggravate your anxiety further, but it was apparent in his voice that he was growing in concern over your condition.

“Babe I know that your anxiety is bad, but do you think that you could walk out of here and to somewhere more calm?”

You slowly nodded your trembling head as you squeaked out a shaky “yes”. Feeling Nate’s gentle arms slowly wrapping around your waist offering support as you slowly arose from your seat.

Nate walked by your side, slowly taking each step at a time. Allowing you to take it at your own pace. With his arm wrapped around your shoulder allowing you to press your body weight against his, as he gently guided you towards the nearest empty class room.

You both sat down on the floor in the dark classroom that was partially illuminated by the natural light that the overcast sky provided.

Your head pressed against his chest feeling both his heartbeat, but also the rhythmic flows of his steady breathing. He held you close to him while you breathed in his calming scent of his cologne which never failed to give you some sense of security as to you it smelt like home.

“Okay babe I’m gonna to need you to copy my breathing, can you do that?” He softly asked you. You nodded back in response not having the energy to answer him back, as it took every part of your energy to feel each inhalation and exhalation, so you could match your breaths precisely to his.

“Okay breathe in and out, just like that” he slowly rocked you back and forth in an attempt to comfort you, while his free hand gently wiped away your falling tears.

After a few moments your breathing finally fell into a normal steady rhythm with help from Nate’s deep breathing, while he softly whispered “you’re okay, you’re safe here with me” in your ear. Your peripherals were no longer blurred as life slowly faded back into reality, no longer in this hellish dreamscape you were in moments before.

Relief flooded throughout your body as you slowly came to realise that your anxiety attack was over, just in time for the post anxiety embarrassment to kick in.

“I’m sorry” you were able to croak out, your voice still horse from uncontrollably shaking and crying just seconds before.

“You have nothing to apologise for, I’m just glad that you’re okay” Nate soothed, still holding you tightly in his arms while rubbing comforting circles on your forearm. He left out a small sigh of relief, relieved to see that you were okay. For it truly broke his heart to see you in such a deep pain that he knew that he couldn’t take away from you.

“You shouldn’t have to look after me, I’m nearly an adult for Christ sake I shouldn’t be this pathetic. I should of handled it better-“

Your frustrated rant of self hatred was cut by Nate pressing his palm tightly against your lips, stopping you from talking so awfully about the girl he loves.

“I refuse to listen to you talk shit about the girl I love. Y/N you have anxiety it’s not your fault, it’s never been your fault why or how these attacks happen. I may not be able to take you away from your own mind” you quietly giggled at his small attempt of defusing the thick heavy atmosphere.

“But I promise you babe that I’ll be here whenever you need me to, I’ll always be here with you. You’re never alone. Now let’s go and I can get us some ice cream and I’ll allow you to watch one of those god awful romcoms that I know that you like so much”

You playfully scoffed, rolling your eyes at him elbowing him in his side. But you couldn’t help but laugh at his remark, he was the only person in your life who actually made it this whole shitshow bearable for you. You were eternally grateful that life had gifted you introducing Nate Jacobs in your life. That you were his and he was yours, even if your head sometimes made you doubt that.

“Hey don’t talk about Clueless like that, I swear that I saw you smiling intently at it a few weeks ago”

Nate groaned at your comment, playfully giving you a shove. He helped you up to your feet, still refusing to acknowledge that deep down that he had a soft spot for those kinds of movies.

“Hey it’s okay your secret is safe with me” you joked back at him.

your smile quickly died down as the realisation hit you. Your eyes darting towards the ground, playing with the cuff of your sleeve, rocking back and forth on your heels retreating back into yourself”

“But Nate you don’t have to do that for me, I feel bad enough about taking you out of lunch and plus my parents will kill me for skiving-“

“Y/N look at me” you reluctantly brought up your gaze to meet his, your eyes softening upon seeing his brown eyes filled with a loving tenderness.

“I don’t have to this, but I want to do this. I want to look after my girl. I love you so fucking much and I want to spend the rest of the day by your side. Your own health comes first so screw your parents and screw the school. Come on Y/N you can either come with me willingly or I’ll have no choice but to carry you to my car”

Your heart grew over hearing his words, it felt like it was beating out of your chest. But this time it made you feel giddy and loved, you couldn’t help but throw your arms around him holding him closer to you.

“Thank you, I love you” you smiled looking up at him

“I love you too babe. You know that I’ll do anything for you” he returned your loving doting smile as he lifted his lips to tenderly kiss your forehead.

“Now let’s get going”

A/N: it feels good to be back. Also as always my requests are always open. I have a cute funny Bradley Rooster Bradshaw fic, a angsty Gareth Emerson fic on the way.

#euphoria fanfiction #euphoria #euphoria fanfic #euphoria imagine #euphoria nate #nate jacobs fanfic #nate jacobs imagine #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs fanfiction #nate jacobs #Nate Jacobs fluff

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.2 K Warnings: none Prompt: What will happen when yet another full moon approaches, could things start to change? This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

ANOUNCMENT:

In a couple of weeks I'll make a Q&A to cellebrate Gilded Constellations reaching 100,000 K words. And I'd love for all of you to be a part of it. So send in your questions, they can be anything you want, things like: How did you get the idea? Where does inspo come from? writing tips (I mean I don’t know much but anyway), character design, fancast, fav characters, things about me, about my plot notebook, literally anything you want, ask away (just state: For Q&A event or something) <3

Chapter 13: “Rebel, Rebel.”

October, 22nd (Friday)

A week after the incident, your mom had already sent your old Viper, but the Nimbus company had yet to respond to your letter. You’d gotten used to your older broom pretty fast. Muscle memory must really be a thing, since the moment you mounted it, it was like you’d been doing it forever. 

James was right, the Viper was a lot more stable than other brooms. More than Sirius’ SweepFire, and probably more than the Dark Nimbus itself. But it was slower, you’d already gotten used to the fast accelerations your Dark Nimbus had, and now you had to be extra attentive of the ball so you could make a move before it had enough time to get past you and onto one of the goals. Regardless of the slowness, the Viper was sturdier and heavier, which made it easier to do tricks like the backflip people still wouldn’t stop talking about. Last Tuesday you’d even attempted to surf on it, and you managed to do perfectly fine for a couple of meters until James spotted you and gave you the longest talk about being responsible and not doing stupid things, the hypocrite. But he was on captain mode and when he got on that mood it was absolutely useless to talk him out of it, so you nodded and promised you wouldn’t do it again, even if you probably would at some point. 

You told Lily about dating Sirius as soon as you were feeling better, she asked you so many questions, from how it’d happen to how good were Sirius’ kisses. She had been told he was really good by a girl back in 5th year, and she wanted to know if it was true or if the girl was just obsessed with Sirius like most girls in school. You omitted the fact that you probably were just as obsessed with him as they were and confirmed that Sirius was indeed a good kisser, not that you’d kissed all that many people before, but still. The rest of your friends had slowly found out about your new relationship, be it for the way Sirius sat next to you a lot more often now, because his teasing and flirting had gotten a lot stronger. Or, in the case of Tom, because he’d accidentally found you snogging on an empty classroom, at least he just gave you a thumbs up, a cheeky smile, and whispered something like “Keep it going guys! You’re doing great”.  Both you and Sirius had separated to laugh about it when Tom closed the door. 

“You ready?” Sirius asked with a smile, pulling you from your thoughts.  You looked at him with a daring face. 

You know that thing you were told not to do a couple of days ago and you promised you wouldn’t? Well, that promise lasted exactly 4 days, 3 hours and a couple of minutes. James was busy with an essay he’d forgotten about, and you and Sirius had gone flying together, and unfortunately, neither of you had a clear enough sense of self-preservation when you were around each other. Especially not after someone said, “I dare you to…” 

You were slowly standing over your broom, hands extended to try and keep your balance. Neither of you was flying too high, that way if you fell you wouldn’t get too hurt. Once you had managed to maintain your balance you nodded “Ready,” you said with a wink, and the two of you started broom surfing, picking up speed as you glided through the open fields of the school. As you were about to reach the finish line, you realized the grass was moving in a funny way right in front of you, and you frowned.  

“Hey Sirius I think–“ you started, but it was too late, something had yanked both of your brooms down and caused you to tumble down to the grass. You’d fallen over and rolled a couple of meters while he’d fallen over something, or rather someone. As you looked up you realized he was right on top of Remus, who had popped out of nowhere (probably the invisibility cloak). As the two of them sorted themselves out you stood up quickly and looked around, spitting some of the grass that had gotten inside your mouth. And then you spotted them, Barty Crouch and Evan Rosier, hiding behind a stone wall. You took your wand out and pointed it at them. Evan seemed to pull back but Barty just smiled wickedly “The fuck is wrong with you?” You roared, already walking towards where they stood. 

Barty walked head high towards you too “You saw them fall, Evan? It was hilarious!” 

“Fall? You must be bIoody delusional if you think you’re going to trick me with that! I felt the way my broom was yanked down.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said with a smile “Do you Evan?” 

Evan shook his head, as if Barty needed a sidekick to be vile. 

“You’re begging for me to break your stupid nose again,” you replied as you looked at him impassively. 

“I’d like to see you try,” he said smugly. 

You pointed your wand at his face, but Remus stood in front of you, calmly placing his hand over the one you used to hold your wand and pushing it down a little, to prompt you to do it yourself. 

Sirius stood still next to Remus, looking at Barty with hate, but keeping a strong grip on his wand. 

“Remus what the–“

“–He’s provoking you,” he told you calmly “he wants you to react.” 

“Yeah, well maybe I want to react,” you retorted, now slightly irritated at your friend’s actions. He just looked at you, shook his head calmly and softly ran his thumb over your forearm, still pushing it lightly down. If anyone knew about anger management it was Remus Lupin.

“Hey,” he said softly, looking at you straight in the eye, trying to get you to focus on him, rather than on Barty looking at you cockily from behind “Look at me luv,” he cooed, you looked at him for a second but turned your eyes back to Barty “I’m fine, Pads’s fine, you’re fine. There is no need to fight.” 

“You could’ve gotten hurt, we could’ve–“ 

“–Listen to me. Don’t give him the satisfaction of rilling you up. You don’t want him to be the cause of Gryffindor losing points, do you? That’s probably why he’s–“ 

“–yeah, go ahead (Y/N), listen to your boyfriends, they know what’s best,” Evan taunted from behind, you clenched your jaw. But took a deep breath, finally lowering your wand. Maybe you should’ve put him in his place then and then, how different would things have ended up if you actually had? 

“You know what Barty? Remus is right, you aren’t even worth my time.” You said standing straighter “At least be more creative with your petty jokes next time, all right? Maybe then you’d at least keep me entertained.” Then you turned around and used your wand to pull both yours and Sirius’ broom to your hands and walked back to the castle, lagging just a second so Sirius and Remus would walk by your side. 

“I want to strangle him,” you told them once you thought the two Slytherins were out of earshot.

“You and me both,” Sirius agreed, taking his broom from your hands, but lingering as his fingers brushed over yours “I probably would have, had Remus not stopped me first.” You looked at him for a moment and then recalled, Sirius was still on top of Remus because of the fall when you speed-walked towards the two Slytherin boys.  “And he’s right, the last thing we want is to start an open war in between us and his stupid gang.” 

“But they already started it, we’re just not doing anything about it.” You reproached, still a little riled up, the urge to punch Barty was wearing you thin, “Anyway, I do not want to have detention while everyone’s enjoying themselves at the Halloween party next week.” 

Remus smiled “How do you know about that?” 

“Tom and Beth told me all about the party you guys always plan together, I’m already preparing my costume.” 

“Is it gonna be a sexy Halloween costume, luv?” Sirius chimed in, leaning towards you with a little smirk on his face. 

 You pushed him back playfully “Ugh… don’t be such a dog!” 

Remus laughed at that, “I’m sure you’d look pretty even in a sack of potatoes.” 

“Yeah, in a very short one,” Sirius teased even further. 

“If only my boyfriend was as much of a gentleman as his friend here,” you said with a playful sight.

“You clearly don’t know Moony’s dark side,” Sirius chimed. 

You arched your eyebrows at that “And you do?” 

Sirius was about to respond when Beth showed up, looking a bit agitated as If she had been running “There you are!” She said as she stood in front of the three “Professor Spellman wants to see us earlier today, something about a special announcement.”

You frowned “Right now?” You asked. She nodded. 

“But we haven’t eaten!” Sirius complained. 

“I don’t think it’ll take too much,” Beth said with a shrug, “But it did seem rather urgent.” 

You nodded and the four of you started walking towards the North Tower. When you arrived, you realized they hadn’t exclusively called your class, in fact, the entire school year had somehow crammed inside the classroom. There were barely any sits left, when Tom saw Beth, he quickly waved to her and she went to sit besides him. You scanned the room and found only one table free, you rolled your eyes when you realized Evan and a Slytherin girl from his year whose name slipped your mind were sitting behind it. You looked at Sirius and pointed at the only free spot with a nudge of your head. 

He rolled his eyes but the three of you walked towards the table, the boys pushed the two chairs together and you squeezed in between the two. Leaning ahead a little so they could accommodate their larger backs onto the chair. Sirius had placed his hand on your tight under the table, and you gave him a look, “I’m gonna fall if I don’t grab onto something,” he said with an innocent smile.

“Yeah, sure enough, Puppy,” you replied playfully. 

“Hm… that’s the fifth from this week,” he said as he squeezed your tight.

Then you felt something pull your hair from behind. You turned around pissed and Evan was smiling “What? Did I ruin your cuddle time with your two boyfriends?”

You looked at him, but smirked “Why, you jelly?” You asked but didn’t give him enough time to reply, “You should know by now that my cuddle time knows no bounds. It's an exclusive club with a very long waiting list. But don't worry, I can squeeze you in somewhere between Tuesdays and never." 

Evan’s face turned sour while Sirius looked at you with a proud smirk and Remus laughed, chest rumbling behind you. He was about to retaliate when Professor Spellman walked in. So you decided to piss him off even further “Shh honey…” you said as condescendingly as possible “Teacher’s about to speak,” finally you turned around with a smirk. 

Remus gave you a side eye and placed his hand, palm facing up, just above your lap, raising his eyebrows, you understood what he meant in a second and high-fived him instantly, giving him a wink before leaning over the desk a little, to give the two boys some space. 

When Spellman finally reached his desk, he gave you a stern look “Miss (Y/LN), why are you sitting between Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin?” 

“There was nowhere else to sit,” you replied, motioning to the crammed classroom “I can sit on the floor if you want though.” 

The Professor sighed but nodded, “That won’t be necessary, this won’t take too long,” he said, before waving his wand and letting a long banner unroll from the ceiling over the chalkboard.

It read: The Moon and the Stars

“As some of you who keep up with the astral cycle may know, next Sunday is full moon,” Spellman said, you felt Remus tense behind you, which made you frown, but the professor kept talking, and you ended up shrugging it off “And not only that, but a very interesting phenomenon will also occur, it will be a bIood moon, which makes it the perfect moment for an astrology class,” He said with a proud smile “You will all be excused from today’s class in exchange for 2 hours of your Sunday night.” There was a mix of groans and cheers in the classroom, from those who were happy about not having class, and those who were upset about having class on a Sunday “Class will start at 10 pm,” Spellman continued, not giving the children time to protest “bring your notebooks and telescopes, those who have their own. We will meet in the Astronomy tower. Any questions?” 

A Ravenclaw boy raised his hand “What happens if we can’t make it?” 

“I highly doubt you’ll have anything better to do on Sunday night Mr. Finchley,” the professor responded sassily. Remus, who looked like he wanted to say something, decided to let it go, and sank back on the chair. The professor waited a couple more seconds, to see if anyone else had a question, but upon no one’s answer he clapped his hands together “Excellent, you’re excused now. See you on Sunday.” 

Sirius was the first one to stand up, letting you out through his side, while Remus seemed to be a little troubled. Your boyfriend placed a hand over his shoulder “It’s ok mate, we’ll figure it out,” he told him. You looked at the exchange with curiosity but it dissipated the moment Lily appeared out of nowhere and hooked her arm around yours.

“The girls and I are going to go prepare some droughts at the potions classroom now, hair and grooming stuff, you said you wanted to brew a special something for your Halloween costume, yeah?” 

You nodded, Sirius raised an eyebrow “Special something?” 

You smiled in response “If you guess it, I’ll give you a prize,” you said confidently, he would not guess your Halloween costume, even if he tried a thousand times. 

“Anything I want?” He asked suggestively. 

You laughed in response “Sure Puppy, anything you want,” you told him before walking out with Lily, the girls were waiting just outside the door.

“That was the 6th!” You heard Sirius say from behind. 

Lily raised an eyebrow “What’s that all about,” she asked. You giggled in response “Let’s just say dear Sirius and I have a bit of an arrangement, I can call him Puppy whenever I want, but he gets some kisses in return.” 

She laughed at your answer “Why aren’t I surprised?” 

You shrugged with a smile, finally catching up with the girls “You wanted to make a glow potion, right?” Mary asked, “Like the one Marlene drank on her birthday?” 

“Yup, I think I’ve got all the ingredients ready too,” you told her, checking the little rattan bag inside your backpack where you’d been placing all the necessary stuff. 

Lily gave a small peak to the bag and frowned “I don’t think you’ve got glow-weed yet.” 

Tom, who seemed to have shown up out of nowhere started to walk by Lily’s side “Why do you need weed?” 

You laughed “Glow-weed,” Beth corrected “not weed, weed.” 

“Hmmm… that’s not as fun.” He said, scrunching his nose a little “What for?” 

“(Y/N’s) Halloween Costume,” Marlene answered casually.

“Oh, you’re gonna be a fairy or something?” He asked excitedly.

You paled at that and turned to him wide-eyed “If you tell Sirius Black about it, I’ll strangle you.” 

“Cheeky,” he replied, leaning closer to you, which made you roll your eyes and push him back. 

“Please don’t tell Sirius?” 

“Why?” 

“She promised Sirius a prize if he guessed. She specifically said anything he wanted,” Lily chimed in. 

Tom looked at Lily and then turned his gaze back to you, impressed “So really cheeky then.” 

“Toooom!” You whined. 

“My lips are sealed,” he said, passing a hand over them as if he was zipping them and then placing his hand over his chest. How dramatic, you thought, but then again, you were the one dating Sirius Black, so who were you to judge? 

“Why didn’t you just tell him about your costume?” Asked Beth. 

You sighed “He was going on and on about sexy Halloween costumes, he would not stop bothering me if I did.” You responded simply, by then you were already outside the potions classroom. Professor Slughorn was in his office, and Lily had been the one inside and asked for permission to enter. He was more than happy to let you guys in to practice potions that he even gave Lily the key to the ingredients room, giving you free rein to use whatever you might need. 

When Lily came out, shaking the key in her hand with a smile Marlene rolled her eyes “Teacher’s pet,” she teased. 

“Maybe,” she said with a shrug “but, I just got our hands on the Ingredients Supply, and Slughorn said we could take whatever we wanted.”

“Sweet!” Said Tom as he took the keys from Lily’s hands and led all the way to the ingredients room. He took out a little paper from his pocket and started looking for some stuff, all the while you tried to find some of that glow-weed.  

When you finally found it you looked at the combination of stuff he’d placed in his basket and narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion “That’s not for beauty products is it?” 

He shook his head with a little smirk “I’m working on a little something,” he said, “also for the Halloween party.” 

You raised your eyebrow, looking at the stuff he’d gathered so far “Essence of Laughing Lily, Blissberry Extract, Frolic Fizzweed Leaves, Lavender Essence, are you by any chance making–“ 

He shook his head and placed a finger over your mouth “–Shhhhh! If Lily busts us, we won’t be having any fun.”

You smiled complicity “Well then, keep working on your little magical project,” you said, and then leaned in closer to whisper “If you add Moonstone Shimmer, you can make the potion a bit more potent overall.” You raised your eyebrows and winked before walking back to the table on which you’d be working. Marlene was next to you, and she’d set herself to prepare a special hand cream since the weather was getting colder. 

Beth was working on an enchanting hair serum that she’d run out of. And Lily said she was working on a “perfect curls potion,” also for the Halloween party. 

“Would you mind borrowing me some of that on the Halloween party?” You asked her when she told you what she was working on. 

She nodded “In fact, I’m making a lot extra,” she replied with a smile “To keep a stash on our bathroom.” 

“You’re brilliant!” You told her with a smile. 

“I’m working on some radiant complexion elixir, also for our bathroom,” Mary said. “We’re giving some of our stuff to Beth and she’s gonna borrow some of her hair stuff. We’ll all be stocked up in beauty products?” 

“And you do this all the time?” You asked with a smile. 

“A couple times a year, yeah,” said Marlene from her table.

“Genious, can I help with anything?” 

“I was actually thinking of using some of your glow potion and add it to the one I’m making, for glowier hair,” Beth told you, you smiled and nodded. 

“Oh, that would look amazing!” You agreed, “A bit on the radiant complexion would probably work wonders too.” 

“Yes, it would!” Lily said with a nod. “And what are you working on Tom?” She asked, turning to the boy. 

He turned to her like a deer trapped in headlights, and then crossed his eyes over at you, pleading for help “After shave lotion, right?” You said casually “So that the shave lasts longer, you mentioned?” 

He nodded “Ye– yeah… I heard Remus complain about his freshly shaved face lasting nothing, and I thought, same mate. Decided to do something about it.” 

You kept a tight smile as you gave him a look. Tom was a shitty liar. “Right! I’m sure that recipe James got you from Fleamont will be brilliant.” Tom nodded and went back to his preparations. 

“Why would you need Frolic Fizzweed Leaves for an aftershave lotion?” Lily asked, more to herself than to the rest. 

You shrugged “Must be one of those secret Potter family tricks,” you said with a shrug, and then smiled when you concluded it would be the perfect time to tease your friend “I’m sure if you married Potter your in-laws would be more than happy to tell you all about them.” 

Lily gave you a reproachful look, but Marlene added to the conversation “It’d be great, that way they could get back the potion-making talent they lost on with James.” 

“James isn’t bad at potions!” She said with a shrug, not quite thinking before she spoke.

Your smile grew “Really? Tell us all about your boy’s talents.” 

“He’s not my boy.” 

“Pretty sure he is, at least in his point of view,” added Tom as he mixed some things in his cauldron. 

“Why don’t you guys tease (Y/N) with Sirius instead?” Lily said as she chopped some of her ingredients with a bit of a frown. 

“They’re dating already, what is there to tease them about?” Mary said with a shrug, “If you want us to stop teasing you, you should just date Potter.” 

You all laughed at that, but no one continued to tease poor Lily any further. As you went back to your table next to Marlene, you realized she was already mixing stuff in her cauldron. You figured most of your friends would be done with their potions before your next meal, so you decided to concentrate on your brew. 

Getting the extract from the glow weed, was the most complicated part since it required an intricate spell and some special distillation skills, but you managed to do it after just a couple of tries. Once that was done, the rest of the potion was actually pretty simple, all you had to do was add the ingredients at the right time and mix according to the instructions. When you finished, you had a cauldron filled with glow potion, it had a golden colour, slightly bright, almost as if there was some light source hidden in the inside of it. You took out the crystal bottles you’d gotten for today and used a ladle to slowly pour the liquid onto them, placing some of the potion in a small bottle with a dropper, and handed it over to your friends so they could add their drops on the potions they’d made.

When you were done, everyone was pleased with their own potions, especially Tom, who had somehow managed to finish his mystery potion without anyone else figuring out what he was making, he placed it on a small crystal bottle with a golden cap and a transparent liquid. You all walked back to the dorms together and divided the little vials amongst Beth and your room. She wasn’t all that close with her roommates, so she took smaller, personal-sized potions while your room got the bigger vials and flasks. Once you placed your small bottle on your trunk, next to some of the other stuff you’d already prepared for your costume, you walked downstairs to wait for the girls in the common room, you grabbed the book Nina had lent you and sat on the couch. Tom came down and plopped down beside you minutes later. 

“What are you reading?” He asked taking the book from your hands and reading the back cover “A spicy werewolf novel?” 

“It was recommended.” 

“Yeah, I bet,” he said with a bit of a cheeky smile and started flipping through the pages, stopping in on a page with a drawing of a shirtless man and eyeing it “Damn, he could rile me.” You raised an eyebrow, “Just look at him!” 

You laughed at that “Didn’t know you liked boys.” 

He shook his head “It’s not that I like them,” he said “I just don’t care if they’re boys, or girls, or anything…” 

You nodded, thinking about it for a second “I think I don’t either.” 

He gave you his signature bright smile and placed his arm over your shoulder, bringing you slightly closer to him “Welcome to the club!”

“Are there many others like us in the school?” 

“You’d be surprised, most of them hide it quite well though, you wouldn’t expect it, you know a few, but it’s not for me to tell. We Brits are pretty open-minded you see.” 

You nodded, “Definitely better than in my old school.” 

When the girls finally came downstairs you all walked out of the common room together, and you stayed with them until you had to split ways since they’d taken a different extracurricular. You walked half of the way to your classroom when you spotted Remus walking by himself, who also walked towards the classroom, so you picked up your pace and caught up with him “Nice to see you again, Rem!” You told him with a smile. 

“How did potion making go?” He asked politely. 

“Excellent, my costume is almost ready!” 

“You’re really going big with it, aren’t you?” He asked, raising one of his eyebrows.

You nodded “It’s my first Halloween at Hogwarts, you guys have set the bar pretty high according to Marlene, I’ve gotta match those high standards.” 

“She said that?” 

You nodded “She told me all about your costumes from previous years, how last Halloween you dressed up as the teachers, McGonagall was mortified when she saw Prongs with an exact replica of her green robes.” 

Remus laughed, remembering that moment “Yeah, she did.” 

“What about you? What are you dressing as this year?” 

He sighed, “Frankly, I don’t have a plan yet, last year was Pads’ idea, and we all followed through, but this year he had a pretty rough summer break and didn’t plan any group costumes, we’re all making our own.” 

“I think you should be a pirate!” You told him simply. 

“A pirate?” 

“You’ve got the sexy pirate vibe going on already, why not?” You asked with a shrug. 

“Sexy pirate vibe?” He asked in disbelief. 

You nodded “Ask anyone, they’ll confirm it.” 

“Confirm what?” James asked as he caught up with the two of you 

“That Remus looks like a sexy pirate.” 

James raised his eyebrows at your words, looking a little impressed, and then turned to his friend “Hmmm…. Yeah, I see it.” 

“See? Told you! It was literally the first impression I got from you.” 

“When I went to pick you up at Dumbledore’s office?” He asked, rather confused.

You shook your head “No! When we you bumped into me at the station. I saw you, and instantly came flashbacks of those spicy novels with shirtless men on the cover.” 

When James heard it, he laughed like a madman, you were right, Moony definitely had the type. “Yours would have you, holding onto the ship’s mast with a barely buttoned white shirt, and the title would be something like The Beast Within,” James said in between laughs. 

Remus gave James a warning look, but you were too occupied gasping at James’ boldness “Are you implying Remus is a beast in bed, Merlin! James, I did not expect you to be cheating on Lily with your best friend!” 

Now it was Remus’ turn to laugh, James’ dumb joke had turned on him “Yeah James, please explain how you’d know anything about my nightly activities… I could be a gentle lover for all you know.” 

“I don’t know about that,” you teased “You do give off the beast in bed vibe.” 

Remus gasped “I’m the chillest of the group.” 

You nodded “It’s always the quiet ones,” you said with an air of mystery. 

When you arrived at the classroom, the three of you struggled to gain back composure and to calm down after the fit of laughter you’d caused each other. Remus went to sit beside Sirius, the first thing he did, was ask him what they were all laughing about, and after being told the story he ended up agreeing with you on two of the things said, First: Remus had to dress as a pirate now, there was no other option. Second: Moony would definitely be a beast in bed. 

Saturday came and went, this time you actually got to go to Hogsmeade for the first time, even if it was more of a business run than a pleasure one, the boys were so focused on getting all the stuff for the party ready that you barely even saw Sirius while you were in town. You spend most of the day with the girls, jumping from shop to shop to get some of the last bits you needed for everyone’s costume. Mary was going to go the easy route, she decided she’d dress as a kitten, her plan was to grab some cat ears and a tail, and enchant them to move like those of a real cat would. 

Marlene was going to do a matching costume with Holden, they’d both go as Sonny and Cher from the video “I Got You Babe”. Marlene had even gotten her hands on a long black wig and a small fur coat. And Holden had actually bought a hair-lengthening potion to match the look. You were certain the two of them would look incredible in their outfits. Beth was going to dress as an astronaut since she was very passionate about space exploration and some of the newer muggle technology advancements. Tom was going to dress up as a vampire and had convinced you to help him charm his canines to look like fangs.

James tried to persuade Lily to do a couple’s costume with him, but she refused every single time he asked, in the end, she decided she’d go as Ophelia, from Hamlet. When James found out he asked Remus to give him a short summary of the story and decided he’d be dressing up as Hamlet, to match with Lily even if she wasn’t expecting it. You honestly considered warning him against it, but he seemed so hopeful and they would look absolutely adorable in the photos so you decided against it. Peter said he’d dress as Edmund Pevensie, from  "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe” a book he had read when he took the muggle literature with Remus in 4th year, he’d convinced Teddy Hawthorn to dress as Peter, Annabeth Doxon to be Susan and a girl who you hadn’t met yet to be Lucy.  

Since you didn’t tell Sirius what you were dressing as, he decided he wouldn’t tell you either, so both of your costumes would be a surprise to each other. 

Unfortunately, your visit to Hogsmeade was so hectic, like everyone else’s, that you didn’t even have time to visit any of the restaurants your friends always talked about, you did see the Three Broomsticks from afar, it seemed like a nice and cozy little pub, very English in its type. Tom mentioned they made mean Beef Pasties and even if you weren’t quite sure they were, the way he described them them made them seem utterly delicious. He promised to treat you to some next time you went to Hogsmeade. 

By Sunday, you were all spent, dedicating a good deal of the day to work on your costumes, Hagrid had gifted some pumpkins to Peter and you were carving along with him and Remus in the common room, Beth was gluing some patches to her astronaut costume and Lily worked on adding some details to her dress. James and Sirius were up in their dorm, since James had to work on his secret Hamlet costume, and Sirius on his own secret costume. 

“How does it look,” you said as you turned around your pumpkin for Peter to see it.

He winced when he saw it, but was too nice to say anything negative about it “It’s… a little wonky, it… uh… works with the Halloween theme?” 

You laughed in response and pulled out the book of practical spells Nina had lent you, being sure there had to be something useful there. 

“Want some help?” Remus asked politely, taking your pumpkin and using a small blade to straighten some of your cuts. 

You placed a hand over his shoulders and thanked him before going back to the book, still trying to find a useful spell, but there wasn’t exactly a Halloween section on the index. When you turned back to look at your pumpkin, Remus had already finished up refining it and it looked incredible.

“That’s… Remus, you’re incredible with your hands!” 

“That’s what she said,” Peter said, almost automatically. 

You gasped “Peter!” you said as a little smile drew from your lips. He looked up from his pumpkin mortified, you giggled “Didn’t know you had it in you to make dirty jokes.” 

“You do remember I literally sleep in the same room that Sirius, right? The ability just rubs into me,” he told you with a little smile. You laughed along with Remus. 

You heard some steps from behind and finally saw both Sirius and James walk down the stairs, Sirius casually leaned closer to you and placed a fast kiss on your lips before turning to Moony. You realized he had some glitter on his hair and passed your hand over it to shake it off as he spoke “Ready to go Moons? Pete?” 

Remus checked his watch, and nodded “Yeah, I should probably get going, I’ll see you guys there?”

Peter nodded, “I’ll stay here for a couple minutes more, I want to finish this pumpkin, but I’ll be there.” 

“Excellent, it’s settled then.” 

Sirius finally turned to you, since you were still fluffing his hair “You done love?” 

You shook your head “haven’t seen you much this weekend,” you said with a pout, not quite wanting to take your hands off his head. 

He smiled and tilted his head just a little “Don’t tempt me, I’ll end up staying.” 

You laughed at that, but you knew how important the marauder’s jokes were, so you shook your head “Go ahead trouble, I’ll see you at divinations, yeah?” 

He gave you a look and shrugged with a smile on his face, before giving you a wink and running out behind Peter and James, who had already walked out of the portrait. 

“You’re not planning to skip divinations, are you?” You asked Peter, who gave you an awkward smile in reply. 

“And Remus just said yes?” 

Peter seemed a little nervous at your question, but you didn’t quite understand why he would be “We…. Um— It’s very important business.” 

You frowned, a little unconvinced but nodded, deciding not to question him further, “Ok then, I’ll cover for you lot. I’ll tell Spellman you ate something at Hogsmeade yesterday and that you’re feeling dreadful or something.” 

Peter finally met your gaze “You’d do that for us?” 

“Of course I would!” You said, as if it was obvious “You’re my friends, I’d cover for you any day.” 

Peter smiled “You’re the best!” 

You and Peter cleaned the table and placed the pumpkins near the window before he left. Once he was gone you moved closer to the girls, both Beth and Lily were still working on their costumes, “Need any help?” You asked politely. 

Lily shook her head, but Beth responded “Yeah, can you pass me some of those patches please.” She said as she pointed at the table filled with patches, you carefully picked them up and handed them over. Letting yourself fall on the couch once you were done. You picked up the book Nina had lent you, the spicy novel this time, and finally started to read through it. You’d actually enchanted the cover since clearly it called everyone’s attention with the original one. Now it looked like a copy of a regular old spell book.

“Uh… I’m gonna feel bad if you keep studying while I’m working on a costume.” Lily Pouted from her place on the floor. 

You chuckled “I’m not actually studying though, It’s a spicy romance book Nina lent me, the cover was a bit extra, so I charmed it.” 

Lily gasped, with a smile drawing on her lips as she did. “You sly fox!” 

You smiled at that, laughing as you said “Oh… trust me, you’ve got no idea.” 

“And.. Is it actually spicy?” Beth asked, not looking up from her costume.

You shrugged, “Not sure, haven’t even met the main love interest so far, I’m barely starting the book. But I’ll tell you if it’s good.” You told her before going back to read. Every now and then they would ask you for small favors like holding the fabric for a second or passing something that was closer to you than it was to them. It was nice to just chill with the two redheads for a while. 

After some time Mary and Marlene came from the stairs, you pulled your head from the book and turned to the girls “Is it already time for class?” You asked, surprised.

Mary nodded “9:30, you see?”

“We should probably start walking there, in case the stairs decide to be funny today,” you said as you stood up. 

Both Lily and Beth grabbed their costumes and carefully sat them over a table, you wrote a small note and placed it over them, so that other Gryffindors wouldn’t grab them by accident, or after trying to admire them. Once it was done, you started walking towards the class, Tom caught up with you halfway there, and you all arrived at the astronomy tower with a couple of minutes left. Professor Spellman was already there, and a couple of students were pulling out their own telescopes as well, Tom included among them. The moon was already starting to. fade. According to Tom, who wouldn’t shut up about the way the BIood Moon worked “The moon will almost disappear completely before we can see it again, and when we do, it will turn red.” 

He seemed so fascinated by the event you decided not to tell him you’d read all about it on the pages of the divination book Professor Spellman had you read for today’s class. At some point a Hufflepuff boy walked closer to Tom, smiling brightly as he greeted him “How’s it going Tom?” 

Tom smiled back at him “Brilliant, I was just telling (Y/N) here about the mechanisms of the BIood Moon.” 

“Really? I’d love to hear all about it!” The boy said with a smile. 

You gave Tom a look, raising an eyebrow, he just smiled and winked in return, “Right! I’m sure Tom will know lots about it, I think Marlene’s calling me. See you boys around!” You said, giving Tom a knowing look, and letting the two boys flirt by themselves. 

You were about to walk towards Marlene, when you heard the same howls from the time when you’d gone to the greenhouses with Lily, a lot further away this time, but the same nonetheless. So instead, you turned around and walked to the window closest to the sound. When you reached, you leaned over the edge just a little, to try and see better, but there was nothing but an endless sea of trees, wherever the things making the sound were, they must have been very deep inside the dark forest. Then you felt someone push you over the balcony violently, just to pull you back again with a vicious grip on your shirt “Careful, you may fall,” you heard Evan’s stupid voice as he pretty much pulled you towards his chest, you could feel his hot breath on your neck, disgusting, you wonder how it was possible that you’d considered him attractive at some point. 

You turned around quickly, forcing him to loosen his grip on your shirt “What the hell Rosier?” You hissed. He was not alone either. Severus was on his side and another boy, who you quickly identified as Mulciber. He was taller  with a tank-like complexion, that contrasted with Rosier’s softer looks as water did with oil. You stood your ground, even if you wanted to step back “Awww… did you have to bring your bodyguards along? Too scared to face lil’ old me by yourself?” You mocked, “Don’t worry, I can take Frankestine and Slimmy on any day of the week.”

“What the fuck did you just call me?” Mulciber said, taking a step forward. 

“Offf, sorry! Guess I should have used a reference a little more keen to your level of knowledge.” 

Evan scoffed, “Do you think it’s a good idea to make fun of him?” He said as he tilted his head, pulling back a little and giving the room a once over “especially without your boyfriends here to protect you.” 

“Please, as if I needed anyone to protect me from you lot. Barty’s fan #1, Lily’s simp and Mr. Big guy” you laughed “you’re joke.” Ok, in hindsight, maybe you were pushing it a bit too hard. But you were not going to let them intimidate you.

Evan grabbed you by the collar and pushed you towards the railing again, you grabbed onto the handle, knuckles white with the force you were using, but you eyed him with a bravery you didn’t know where the hell you’d gotten from. You looked around and smiled, people were crowding up around you “You sure you wanna do that, luv? We’ve got a bit of a crowd here, too many witnesses, right? All though, I’m sure you’d fit in perfectly fine in Azkaban.”  He seemed tempted to drop you, but eventually, he let go and pulled back. You smiled and straightened your uniform “Yeah, I thought so.” 

“This is not over,” he threatened. 

“Bring more henchmen next time,” you mocked with a smile. When he was gone, you turned around to the forest again, taking deep breaths to calm yourself down, and looking at the possible fall you could’ve gotten. It would most certainly be mortal. 

Lily pushed through the crowd to reach you, looking at you filled with worry once she caught up “What the hell were you thinking (Y/N)? All that bravado was gonna be worth for nothing had he actually pushed you.” 

“He wasn’t going to push me.” 

“He’s insane, he could have,” she argued.

“Not in front of so many people.”  You insisted, “Not without stupid Barty Crouch around, he’s the only reason Evan’s got anything against me.”

“That was the only reason,” Lily corrected “You insulted them out in the open for the entire class to hear.” 

“They came pushing me into the railing first. I was not going to cry for help.” 

“Ughhh….” She said exasperated, and then pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, “Just promise me you won’t go facing those assholes by yourself. Please don’t be as stupid as the boys.” 

You sighed and returned the hug “I will not  go chasing after them Lily, I promise.” You said, and you really did not intend to do it. 

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling my mixed race cousin the truth about her racial background?

This happened a few months back but continues to divide our family to this day, and I have my own regrets about it, so I thought it would be good to get some outside perspective.

My little cousin (we'll call her May) was privately adopted by my aunt 17 years ago. Her biological mom already had 4 kids at home, 2 of them special needs, and she was an unplanned pregnancy. But she was also deeply religious and against abortion, so she went to her (southern baptist) church for help. My aunt was a member of that church and was having trouble conceiving, so she offered to adopt the woman's baby and she agreed.

I know all this for a fact because my aunt asked my mom to come with her as emotional support when she met with the bio mom and dad at their home to talk more about the details. I was dragged along (8 years old at the time) and saw the bio parents myself. The mom was white, and the dad was black. I sat and listened to them talk about boring adult stuff and heard both the man and woman refer to May as "their baby". Then I got bored and went in the other room to play with their kids on the xbox.

Fast forward 17 years later to the present day and May has done pretty well in life. She's a straight A student with a 4.0 and wants to be a physicist. She knows she's adopted and knows she's mixed race (would be pretty hard to hide, since both her parents are whiter than mayo and she's obviously not). I never said anything about her being half black, because I assumed she knew. I found out she does not when she was talking about looking into scholarships and says maybe she can get a scholarship for Indigenous peoples. I laugh because I assume she's joking.

May looks at me and asks why that's so funny, and I say because she's not Native American. She looks truly pissed now and like she's geared up for a fight against a racist and says yes, she is. I look at her parents for backup but they won't look me in the eye. "May, I met your parents. You're half black," I told her. She calls me a liar and says that's stupid, because her parents got her through an adoption agency and she knows she's half Native American.

Now I'll tell you, I know my aunt and uncle made jokes about how she "looks like an Indian" when she was a baby. I know they dressed her up in racist "Indian" outfits every Halloween (first I wasn't old enough to know it was racist, then I thought it's not worth the argument bringing it up). I know her cringey online persona when she was 12/13 was called "PocahontasGirl", and her online "aesthetic" has always been nature and romanticized, spiritual Native American stuff. And again, I never said anything because it wasn't worth the argument, and I figured she would grow out of it when she was less immature. I had genuinely know idea it's because her parents have been lying to her.

I tried to convince her I wasn't lying, I tried to get my aunt and uncle to back me up, but May is a terror when she's mad and she was screaming and crying at me for being racist and calling her parents liars so I just left. She's blocked me everywhere since then, and my aunt called my mom to rant about me filling her daughter's head with lies and trying to break up their happy family. My mom said I should have just left it alone, I said May deserves to know who she really is, and how can my mom condone lying to her when we both know the truth? My mom said just to drop it, it isn't any of our business. That she didn't like the fact that my aunt lied either, but bringing it up now was an asshole move because it would divide the family no matter what. Either May would believe me and hate her parents, or believe her parents and hate me.

In my heart I feel like it's wrong on so many levels to adopt a mixed race child then lie about their heritage, and I think my aunt and uncle are just plain racist. But I can't blame May for not believing me and believing the people who raised her. And I truly do miss her, having known her all her life. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[ghostbite0]

i got a ton of asks in my inbox so im just going to put all of them here so i don't spam u guys with it haha

this is really the only guy i use. felt pen on clip studio is excellent for the sketchier style i like! when it comes to coloring i just use a basic solid brush !

i imagine they do, and they each get assigned a baby (tanjiro with giyuu, inosuke with sanemi, and zenitsu with obanai) but it lasts for barely a day. inosuke has no idea what hes doing and obanai cant stand zenitsu

tengens wives find the situation hysterical but they help out however they can. ofc they all fight over tengen. they love helping out with the kiddies but they especially enjoy taking care of the younger ones-- they think mui, mitsuri, and shinobu are adorable! tengen definitely tries to flirt with them but hes a cringe fail ten year old

kanao, aoi, and the butterfly girls all help out as well. kanao and shinobu are typically glued together

shinjuro and senjuro are shocked to see rengoku (and obanai) and while shinjuro is pissed off at first, he can't Not take in his boys. senjuro and little obanai are super similar in nature so

urokodaki, tengen, and nezuko are worried but excited about giyuu's transformation. they're like lets freaking go. good childhood moment

and of course genya thinks the situation is hilarious and hes happy to get to spend time with his brother, although he's VERRRRY awkward. he's a bit avoidant at times but usually gyomei and tanjiro can talk him

aw thank you! to answer your question;; shinobu and gyomei basically spend time with him and are attentive to his wants/needs to help him recognize he does matter. rengoku and the others help with this! essentially love language stuff and affirmations and what not

ill be honest i totally forgot about this. yea! i would say the babies are only put in a very specific area of the manor and they deep clean it constantly. if they have a good amount of sick/wounded i imagine they have gyomei or etc take them in. im not sure! in my mind the hashira all rotate and babysit and etc

this 100% happens. urokodaki learned the news and had never traveled to the headquarters so fast

ohh this is a fun question! truthfully im not sure what the answer to this would be... i appreciate all the questions/ideas/etc!! if anything id love to have more questions about general characterization stuff, since thats my favorite favorite favorite to talk about!!! maybe more questions about like... what their relationships are like, do they have nicknames for each other, that sort of thing... idk! either way im glad people are interested :D

sanemi tries to make them laugh. he remembers his little siblings always cheering up when he would make silly faces and sounds, so he does that here

giyuu awkwardly pats the other baby's back/head and is like "there there" ... he remembers how sabito's hugs would make him feel better so he awkwardly hugs the other. most of the time obanai/sanemi stop crying purely bc they're confused as to why giyuu is hugging them

obanai would usually talk them out of it, but he can't do too much since he's restricted to baby babble. so instead, he will try to find one of their toys and "gift" it to them. ex giyuu was sobbing hysterically until obanai found his fox plushie and gave it to him

awww shucks... stop it u guys.....!

im doing ok!!! hanging in! got 3/13 commissions done so busy busy!

also, for future ref, i prefer being called "bite" !!! i know a lot of people call me ghost, so i just wanted to take a moment to correct that :D

awwwwww this is so sweet!! thank you so much!!!!!!

defintely one of the rodent pokemon. my favorite pokemon changes constantly but im told i have mimikyu / teddiursa / bunneary vibes. i also like espurr. i have no idea UWEIHRWE

i think he would be a little awkward at first but he would get the hang of it. most of what he does is just keep them entertained and make sure they arent sick or hurt. though he eventually builds up the courage to ask if he can feed obanai. from that point on whenever muichiro is babysitting he's the one offering to feed him, though someone else has to make the bottle-- he doesn't know how to do that

this is canon

Hands down, Obanai. Though I also feel really sad for Gyomei and Muichiro, and I think Tengen's story (what we know of it) is pretty sad. I don't like comparing traumas, though! but yeah. obanai is. wow. poor guy

and to those of you sending art requests; i see them, i promise! commissions come first, so they may take time for me to get done!

thank you guys for all the questions! i always love checking my inbox and getting an excuse to talk about things...

#not artbites #askbites #askbox

[gingiesworld]

I've Heard That Before

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings : Nothing but fluff and a lil insecurity

18+ MINORS DNI

Y/N and Wanda were getting everything ready, they had the decorations out for the christmas tree as their 13 year old son's Billy and Tommy stood and watched as Wanda kept arguing with Y/N as they set the tree up.

"That is not how you do it!" Wanda shouted as Y/N looked at her in shock.

"I know what I am doing Wanda." Y/N shouted back as they inserted the 2nd part of the tree into the base.

"Yeah, I have heard that before." Wanda scoffed making Y/N give her their full attention. "How do you think the twins happened."

"Hey! That was all you." Y/N shouted at her.

"They're like this every year." Billy whispered to Tommy as they sat beside the box of tree decorations.

"Maybe we could sneak up to our room and play the xbox." Tommy smirked as Y/N was now stood before Wanda.

"You were the one who seduced me." Y/N said as Wanda looked up at them with her arms crossed and head tilted.

"Me?! You were the one who was begging me for a date so I took pity on you." Wanda said as Y/N just gave her a cold look.

"Ok, this is a new development." Tommy muttered as they watched.

"We should get some popcorn." Billy suggested as Tommy smiled at his brother proudly.

"Seriously Wanda!" Y/N shouted at their wife of twelve years.

"Seriously." She stated. "You only married me because of the twins because you couldn't pull out quick enough!!"

"Boys go to your room." Y/N told the twins calmly as they kept their eyes on Wanda.

"Boys stay here." Wanda told them sternly.

"No. Boys. Room. Now." Y/N said as they never moved their gaze from Wanda.

"No. Boys. Stay. Here." Wanda said as the twins kept looking between both Wanda and Y/N who were closer to each other than before.

"Room!" Y/N shouted as Wanda never faultered

"Stay!" Wanda shouted so Tommy and Billy looked at each other before they decided to head up to their room. "Don't leave me!" She shouted after them. Y/N gazed at Wanda as she looked towards the stairs and sighed in defeat.

"Do you really think I only married you because you had the twins?" Y/N asked her softly. Wanda only nodded with tears in her eyes as she walked towards the kitchen with Y/N behind her. "I married you because I love you Wanda. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and our boys. Maybe have another soon if that is what you would like."

"We're getting old Y/N. We can't handle a baby." Wanda told them as she leaned against the counter

"Wanda, we were in our junior year of college when we had the boys. We are still only in our early 30s." Y/N spoke tenderly as they wrapped their arms around her waist. "We can always have another baby, if that is something that you want." Y/N told her making her smile

"How did I get so lucky with you." She whispered as her hands rested on their chest.

"You just pitied me." Y/N smirked as they slowly leaned in making Wanda laugh against their lips. Y/N kissed her tenderly and lovingly as they enjoyed the moment between them both. "I love you so much Wanda Maximoff." Y/N spoke tenderly.

"I love you Y/N Y/L/N." Wanda spoke before she pressed her lips on theirs once more.

"Let's finish decorating the tree." Y/N spoke quietly as Wanda nodded with a smile.

When it was quiet, Tommy and Billy both decided to check if they killed each other. When they reached the top of the stairs, they heard White Christmas playing softly in the background as Y/N and Wanda danced closely with smiles on their faces.

"I don't understand them sometimes." Tommy spoke as they watched their parents.

"I hope to have a relationship like theirs someday." Billy sighed with a smile.

"I'm sure you are gay." Tommy teased him before he ran back to their room. Billy smiled at his parents as Wanda laughed as Y/N spun her out and back again.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #natasha romanoff #wanda x you #elizabeth olsen

[issdisgrace]

Short clone wars era fic idea:

Ftm passes out bc he wore his binder during battle. Anakin, not knowing what happened, panics and takes Y/n to Obi-Wan bc he always knows what to do. Obi-Wan uses his lightsaber to cut his shirt and binder to breathe.

Obi-wan, holding y/n's head in his lap: are you okey, darling?

Y/N: yeah, now that I can breathe and see you ;)

Anakin in the corner of the tent: WHAT THE FU-

UNCONSCIOUS​

WARNINGS: Unsafe binding practices, nothing more else to warn about​

A/N: Hope you like it :)​

The war was raging on and it looked like there was no stop or pause insight. There was no time for break and I made the unfortunate mistake of putting on my binder to help ease my dysphoria, but before I had time to take it off, I was whisked off to battle. I know I would pay for my mistake, but I swore an oath to protect my planet from evil and I was going to protect them from it even if it meant my death. Speaking of death, I felt like, but I still pushed on. It was

13:00, and I started feeling worse. I knew something was wrong, so I started to retreat, but before I could get back across to my territory, my head started pounding and the outside of my vision was going black. Then everything went black.

I was fighting alongside my old friend Y/n when I notice them to start retreat from enemy territory. I kept fighting, but kept an eye on them. They seemed off the last day and I was worried. As I finished off my enemy, I notice Y/n collapsed in the grass. Running over to them, I try to get their attention but there was no response. I get over to them and realise he’s unconscious. I quickly pick him up and retreat as I retreat, not knowing who to take him to. I take him to Obi Wan. He always knows what to do, and he had plenty good at treating ailment and wounds. I made it back to camp and went straight to Obi’s tent. Thank god he was in there. 

“Obi, help.” 

“What happened?” He asks, taking in everything. 

“I don’t know. We were fighting, and I saw him retreat and next thing I know, he’s unconscious in the grass.” I say as I place Y/n down on the cot. I move out of the way and let Obi examine him.

“It doesn’t like he has any wounds.” I nod and continue watching him. He life Y/n shirt and I see a cropped black top of sort.

“Theirs the problem, god y/n how could you be so stupid?” 

“Whats going on?”

“Anakin, give me your knife.” I take my knife from the sheath and hand it to him. He cuts his shirt and the top underneath it.

“Anakin, I need you to get a new shirt for y/n. I got it from here.”

“Ok.” I say before quickly taking my leave.

I pick up Y/n’s head and laying his head in my lap. I can’t believe he wore his binder during battle. We talked about this. We both knew it was dangerous. I don’t know why he would wear it when he knew it was dangerous. I sigh and run my hands through his hair. I sit with his head in my lap, thinking for a couple of minutes before I say,

“Y/n, what am i gonna do with you?” Not expecting a response. 

“Beat my ass.”

“Oh thank god, you’re awake. Are you okay? How do you feel?”

“I feel better now that I can breathe and see your handsome face?” 

“What the fuck?” We look up to see Anakin holding the shirt he was sent to get in his hand. 

“Since when have you guys been a thing?” He asks, not waiting for us to react to his previous comment.

“For a while.” I say.

“Why wasn’t I told?”

“We thought you knew.” Y/n days.

“No, I didn’t. I didn’t have a clue,” “

“Now you know, Ani.” I say.  

“I’ve been wanting you guys to get together for years.”

Y/n laughs at his comment, but quickly stops and groans in pain.

“That hurts.”

“Thats what you get for wearing your binder during a battle.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know don’t need to remind me off my bad decisions.”

“Ooh, so that’s what that was.”

“Also guess you know that now, too.” Y/n says.

“Yeah, I do. But I assure you have no problem with either things. Also, here’s a new shirt.”

“Glad to hear.” Y/n replies. I let out a quiet hum as I listen to the exchange.

“I think Y/n needs to get some more rest and I’m sure you need to rest too, so why don’t you head back to your tent for a bit before heading back out?”

“I’ll get going. I could use the rest. Alright, bye Obi, bye Y/n. See you guys later.”

#obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #star wars #obi wan kenobi x male reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #anakin skywalker x male reader #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars x male reader #star wars x reader

[daintyshu]

𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

xiii. the fun day out (1.2k written)

warnings. mentions of absent parents

"remember how we used to do this a lot back in the states?" jongseong speaks through a bite of his homemade kimbap. you were mid sip of your bubble tea when he speaks up so he waits for you to finish chewing on the pearls.

jongseong had planned a picnic for your 'fun day out' and it brought you back to the good old days before adulthood hit you like a truck.

"yeah, i miss it. eomma used to take us almost every weekend," you smile, thinking back on the memory of jongseong's mother taking you guys out for picnics when you were younger.

that's how close you and jongseong's family are. his mother would take care of you and your brother when your parents would so very often travel for work.

even on weekends where they were home, you'd much rather be at your best friend's place. his house felt more home than yours ever did.

on days where your brother couldn't play with you, you would take it upon yourself to walk the three houses down to your best friend's house, ring the doorbell that you could barely reach at the age of 9, and wait patiently for anyone to open up the big gates to let you in.

any normal adult would've been concerned at how often you and your brother were left alone at home. just because your brother was already a teenager, doesn't mean he was capable of taking care of the both of you by himself.

maybe that's why mrs. park took it upon herself to constantly check up on you two. maybe it's why she'd gotten so attached, treating you both like her children when your very own parents couldn't. it's why you two were more comfortable calling her 'eomma' rather than your own biological mother.

so maybe that's why when jongseong had come knocking on your door one fine day in 2015, you were apprehensive.

there was never a reason for him to do so. it's not like he ever willingly wanted to go over nor was he ever welcomed. your parents were never fond of him or his family. they didn't like how mrs. park would hover around as if they weren't doing a good enough job in taking care of you and your brother. (they weren't.)

ignoring the pointed look your mother sent the boy, you allowed him to pull you out before closing the door behind you two. "what's wrong, jay? you never come over," you had asked him after seeing the broken expression on the then 13 year old boy's face.

"we're moving back to korea," he breathed out but all you could hear was the sound of your heart smashing into pieces.

"moving back? jay, what are you talking about?" it wasn't a hard statement to comprehend but being in denial of your best friend leaving you made it seem like it was the most complicated thing you've ever heard in your 12 years of living.

maybe it's because of how young you two were but looking back on it, you couldn't help but laugh at how dramatic you were.

"eomma and appa wants to move back. my grandmother is sick and they want to be closer in case anything happens," he explained, trying to keep his emotions in check. you were on the brink of crying already and he couldn't let himself do the same. he had always been the tougher one between you two.

"y/n, please don't cry. i promise i'll keep in touch," he pulled you close as your body wracked with an onslaught of sobs and tears. "i promise we'll still be friends. i'll even download twitter for you like you've always wanted me to. we'll keep in touch there, okay?"

he then pulled away, keeping both hands on your shoulders to observe your tear-stained face. he chuckled at how adorable you looked, all pouty and sniffling. "now come, let's hang out. let's hang out every day until i have to leave," he then slung an arm around your shoulder and walked you both in the direction of his house.

"eomma misses you, by the way. she told me when i called her last night," jongseong says as he steals your bubble tea and takes a sip. he doesn't tell you that the reason he called her was to ask for her kimbap recipe that you loved so much.

"i miss her too! we really have to go back someday and visit her," you told him. he smiles at this. he loves how close you and his mother are. nothing else mattered to him as long as the two most important women in his life got along.

"i still remember how happy she was when i brought you back home after your first day here," he laughs as he settles down with his head on your lap. you lean back against the tree bark, thankful that your best friend had picked the perfect spot to lay your picnic mat.

"she really was! never felt a hug as comforting as the one she gave me that day," you run your hand through jongseong's soft hair. he looked really good blonde. you didn't think he would actually dye it that colour when you made a passing comment about it. but you guessed your opinion meant a lot to him.

"hey! i give comforting hugs too!" he pouted and you couldn't help chuckling at how cute he looked. he only ever showed this side of him when you two were alone. "you do, jjongie. runs in the family, i guess." you ruffle his hair and he playfully pushes your hand away.

"i just can't believe you didn't tell me you moved. like, we talked every week but you didn't even tell me the most important thing," he says as he brings your hand back to his hair, wordlessly asking you to continue playing with it.

this feels strangely intimate and you can't lie and say you weren't affected at all. but it's just your best friend. this was normal between you two. but it never fails to make you nervous every time.

"to be fair, we only ever talk at the end of the week to catch up. moving back was a sudden decision my parents made and i was still gonna tell you at the end of that week. i didn't think i'd see you at the school i was enrolled in," you laugh at the memory.

how crazy is that? you two lost each other just to find each other again. the universe somehow brought you two back together once again.

"i'm glad you did. i would've missed you like crazy. i don't know how i survived three years only talking to you at the end of every week," jongseong jokes, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth.

"yeah, now you can't go three hours without texting me. you do know i don't need an update whenever you need to go pee, right?" you tease.

it's true that he does text you way too much, but not once has it ever bothered you. you love how comfortable he is with you and you love having someone to be comfortable with, too.

he was and has always been your comfort person. and you're glad to know you were his too.

"yeah and i don't need mingyu edits sent to me every three hours but we don't always get what we want so suck it," he sticks a tongue out at you before sitting up. "now let's pack up. i heard there's nice trail to walk on around here somewhere,"

prev | m.list | next

synopsis. in which you work at odd atelier cafe and can only make hearts in your lattes, causing a certain boy to misunderstand your intentions..... then he brings his friends and chaos ensues.

taglist (open): @semisemirin1i82 @txtmetonight @ilyjxdz @miniature-tragedy @n1k1mura @t00miee @manooffline @aerivrs @saranghaohoshi @woninluv @moony-mari @nctsshoes2 @sunghoonnsupremacy @mnxnii @lisaswifey @enhy4me2 (strike through means unable to tag!)

#enha smau #enha x reader #enha x reader smau #enhypen smau #enhypen social media au #enhypen texts #enhypen x reader #enhypen x reader smau #enhypen #enha

[companionjones]

The Beginning of Us (2/5)

Pairing: 36!Joel Miller x 23!Fem!Reader

Fandom: The Last of Us (could be applied to the characters in the video game or TV show)

Author’s Note: This is an AU where it’s normal times and both Sarah and Ellie are Joel’s (alive) daughters.

Summary: A few people talk to you about their stances on you and Joel. You’re surprised about what they say.

Warnings: Cursing, eventual smut

(1/2/3/4/5)

*******

It had been two and a half days since that night with Joel, and you hadn’t seen him since. That was exactly how you wanted things to be. They weren’t your proudest moments, but the few times you’d exited your apartment, you had taken extra care to make sure no one else was around, especially the residents of the apartment across the hall from yours.

“There you are!”

Your luck had to run out at some point, you realised. Sarah had caught you sneaking out of your apartment around noon.

“Hey, Ellie! Y/n finally showed her face!” she called to her sister.

Suddenly, you were being bombarded by two assailants on your way out to your car.

“How did things go the other night with our dad?” Sarah curiously asked.

Ellie jumped in, “He won’t tell us a thing. All we know is that you two didn’t bone.”

Both you and Sarah were taken way off guard by that statement. “Ellie!”

She defended herself. “What? Sarah, you heard Dad go to bed alone that night. I’m just stating facts.”

Sarah agreed, “Okay, but that doesn’t mean that you need to put that image in my head…Seriously, Y/n. We just want to know if you two…kissed or something.” She switched gears.

“Girls, I gotta tell you something.” You caved in, and stopped in the hallway.

Both of them looked at you intently.

“I am only 23,” you let them know. “It would be highly inappropriate if anything were to happen between me and your father…and I would honestly hate to put him in that position.” Figuring that was all they needed to hear, you continued down the staircase.

Understandably, that truth bomb silenced both girls for a few moments; however, the (surprisingly) wouldn’t give up on you yet.

Ellie called after you, “So what?”

“Yeah,” Sarah joined in, “Who cares? Age is just a number, right?”

Both girls barrelled down the steps after you.

You just laughed, “Age is not just a number when I’m 23 and–How old is your father?”

“Only 36!” informed Sarah. “That’s just 13 years.”

“Who gives a shit?” Ellie comforted colorfully.

“Come on, Ellie. Language,” you rolled your eyes. “Why do you two want me with your father so much?” you asked without thinking.

“Because…” both girls started.

Ellie continued, “Because it’s been so long since we saw dad happy.”

“He’s happy with us. We get it. But we want to see him happy with someone, y’know?” Sarah clarified.

“I do,” you sighed, “But I’m too young for him. I’m sorry, girls.”

At that point, they had followed you all the way out to your car. You got in your car, and waited until the girls were back inside the building before driving off. 

You went out grocery shopping, and returned home two hours later. You were preparing dinner when there was a knock at your door. You almost dropped the pan you were holding.

Please, don’t let that be Joel.

Thankfully, it wasn’t. But it was still somebody almost equally as surprising.

You opened your door. “Hey, Tommy. Is everything alright?”

He nodded. “It is, thank you. I was just wondering if I could talk to you about something.”

“Of course.” You stepped aside so he could come in. “Please, sit down.”

Tommy remained standing. “No offence, but I don’t think I’ll be here that long. I’d just like to talk about Joel.”

“Oh.” You froze. “...Did he tell you?”

“The girls did, yes.”

“Then, you have to know. I would never want to do anything that would hurt him or his reputation.”

Tommy stated matter-of-factly, “I know that, Y/n.”

Again, you didn’t know what to do. “You do?”

“Of course.”

“Then why did you come here?” The question rolled off your tongue before you meant to ask it. “I’m sorry–”

“No, it’s alright,” he told you, “It’s a valid inquiry. I just…I don’t know, Y/n. I think you should go for it.”

“Tommy—!” you gasped, not believing your ears.

He backtracked. “I know. I know it sounds crazy. Hell, maybe all this is just those two little girls whispering in my ear. But Y/n. I can’t remember a time when I saw Joel more at ease than he was when you were helping them move in.” Tommy turned and started moving back toward the door, and you didn’t know what to say. Tommy turned back around to offer you one last sentiment. “I work with the guy every day, and I know my brother. I know when he’s got something he can’t get off his mind. Goodnight, Y/n.”

“Goodnight,” was all you were able to choke out before Tommy shut the door behind him.

(1/2/3/4/5)

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

*******

Tags:

@dbnightingale24 // @kyuupidwrites​ // @minjix​ // @xxmusic13luverxx​ // @junmsli​ // @mmeerraa​

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #tlou #tlou au #the last of us #troy baker #pedro pascal #the beginning of us #companion jones

[necroromantics]

🧺 — Laundry And Taxes

chapter 13. // (masterlist)

Toby sat in the livingroom, leaning back into the couch as he watched whatever movie was playing on TV. In the distance, he could hear the old house phone begin to ring. He groaned in annoyance as he sluggishly pulled himself up from his comfortable spot and picked up the phone.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, Toby. How’re you?” The familiar voice of his older sister flowed through the call.

“I’m alright, what’s up?”

“Uh, listen, don’t worry yourself but…” Lyra’s voice trailed off for a moment, “Frank came by the other day, wasted. He got into a fight with mom and… We have it handled, so don’t freak out or anything. I just thought you should know, ‘cause we’re going to be getting a restraining order against him.”

Toby stood in silence, trying to process the load of information that had been dropped on him. In all honesty, he had found himself blissfully unaware that his father had still been alive in this world. He had hoped to keep it that way.

“Wait- Wait. So what happened?” He asked.

“Nothing major! He just came by last night all drank and pissy, and started fighting with mom a bit. He hit her so-”

“He hit her?”

“She’s fine, Toby. I only told you because I wanted you to know about the restraining order.”

“Is she pressing charges?” Toby asked, and there was another moment of dreadful silence.

“You know she wouldn’t do that. It was hard enough to get her to even consider no contact.” Lyra nervously laughed, trying to ease the tension. She could feel the anger pouring from Toby’s end of the call.

“Yeah, thanks for letting me know. If you ever need me to come back, Lyra…”

“God no, don’t waste your money on a train ticket over Frank being a douche. You’d be poor by the end of the month,” She laughed again. Toby smiled melancholically at the joke, his sister had been the only one with her head screwed on straight once again.

The call ended quickly, and Toby stood still. He held the phone tightly in his hand, his lip twitched. There was a sense of something bubbling up inside of him, a furious sort of energy burning through his body. He found himself again confined in the walls of his childhood home, but he was eleven years old, and he could smell alcohol pour from his fathers breath. Toby was only a child when he looked up and saw blood on his fathers hands, some days it was his, some days it was his mothers. Now, it was the boys turn to wear blood like a glove, to wield that righteous anger. To become it.

Soon after the call, Toby’s dreams began to drift away from killing random people, and would bring him back to murdering his father over and over, again and again. One night, he fell into a dream where he was once again a 12 year old boy, and he would wrestle with his father, only to end up stabbing him to death. He drove the knife into the man's body too many times to count, and when Frank pleaded, cried for mercy, the voice to come out of his mouth was Toby’s. The boy shot up in bed, jolted awake. His breath trembled for a moment as he swallowed, trying to collect himself. He didn’t know what it meant. He didn’t know if he wanted to know what it meant.

Toby squeezed his hand, balling it into a fist as a confirmation that even after he had lost everything, he still had his ability to fight. He still had his anger, and it moved him. The boy was always frightened by his rage, how loud it could become, how violent. Toby had become what he feared the most, and now the only thing left to terrify him was himself. He was the killer, and the horrified witness. He was his father’s son. A soft ticking from the clock on the bedside table filled the night, alongside Natalie’s slow breathing. Toby looked over at the sleeping girl, adjusting his eyes to the dark. He looked at her bare arms, and then down to his. For many years of his life he had grown accustomed to the appearance of bruises littering his body. He learnt ways to hide them, because he didn’t want to be taken away from his mother. As a little boy, he was scared of his father, but even more, he was scared of losing everything he knew in the walls of that battlefield house.

The next morning, he stood with Natalie in the kitchen as he cracked eggs into a pan. He hit them against the edge harder than usual. Natalie blew over her hot morning coffee to cool it off, which felt like daggers in Toby’s ears.

“Can you cut that out?” He muttered, annoyed. She raised an eyebrow at him and put her cup down onto the countertop.

“What’re you cranky for?” She asked.

“Nothing. It’s just annoying.”

Toby scooped the scrambled eggs off of the pan and onto a plate, sliding it over to her, and putting the rest on his own. The boy took his food and left for the livingroom without another word, he wanted nothing more but to be alone.

Sitting on the couch in his solitude, Toby picked at his eggs with his fork. He wasn’t hungry. All he could think about was the feeling of taking his fathers life. The struggle the man put up, the smell of booze and smoke, the blare of the old TV. He remembered how it felt to have all the years of fear and anger finally pour out from him, through the hands that gripped the kitchen knife that slaughtered his creator. Then, he began to plan.

Toby never really stopped to carefully plan out his steps before taking someone's life. When he killed his father, it was an eruption of brutality, rage, and sickness. When he killed anyone else, it was on a whim, or had to be done. He imagined it would be most difficult to pinpoint Frank’s location. He couldn’t hold down a job long enough to keep a house on his own anymore. He must’ve been in cheap motels, or couch surfing, or sleeping in his car. And he called Toby the failure of the family, the boy thought to himself.

“Are you still moody?” Natalie’s voice brought Toby out from his brooding thoughts. He looked over at her standing in the entryway, leaning against the wall, and shook his head. The girl walked, and sat down beside him, picking an uneaten piece of egg off his plate and tossing it into her mouth.

“If you’re still upset about what happened-”

“It’s not that, Nat. Something different, it doesn’t matter.”

“Well if you’re going to be a prick every morning, then I think it does,” she poked. Toby rolled his eyes and stood up to clean off his untouched plate of breakfast. Natalie walked after him.

“Whatever you got going on, you don’t need to take it out on me,” she continued as they walked into the kitchen, Toby scraping his uneaten food into the garbage, and running his plate under the water in the sink.

“You don’t get it.”

“Try me.”

Turning off the squeaky faucet, the boy turned around to face the shameless girl.

“It’s just stupid shit with my dad. But my sister said she has it handled, so whatever.”

“I thought your dad was dead?”

“Not here. Not anymore.”

“What’re you going to do about it then?” Toby furrowed his brow at the girl's question as his gaze met the tiled floor.

“I think I’m going to kill him.”

Natalie leaned over the island counter, resting herself on her elbows, staring at the boy with a sick understanding. Through all the time they had known each other, neither of them had really bothered, or wanted to, talk about their fathers. But there was a mutual feeling that they both experienced a similar type of rage.

“If you want to kill him, then kill him. I’m sure there's meaning in that somewhere.”

“You really think?” The boy lifted his head up, feeling relieved at the support from his best friend, the one person who understood.

“Sure, if you think it’s a good idea.”

“It has to be done.”

“Slenderman tell you that?” Natalie teased.

“No, Natalie, I told myself that. Because I can fucking think for myself. I hate my old man more than anything and if I don’t go to heaven when I die because I killed him, then so what. I can take that to my grave, I don’t care.”

“I know what it’s like, Toby. I get it. My dad was a piece of shit too, I’d kill him again if I could.” She stood up straight and walked over to Toby’s side, brushing up against him.

“Whenever he drank I’d put a chair under my doorknob so he couldn’t come into my room and start shit. Or all the damage to my eardrums from blasting music so I couldn’t hear my parents fighting,” Natalie snickered to herself at the absurdity of it all. Toby looked over at her.

“My dad used to grab my hair and just slam my head into the wall. It pissed me off so much I wanted to cut it all off,” the boy shared.

The pair stood beside each other in the kitchen, under the soft afternoon glow shining through the window, leaning against the counter. They talked about their childhoods, family issues. They opened up about things they knew the other understood, a type of understanding they couldn’t find anywhere else. A type of understanding they wouldn’t dare look for anywhere else.

Natalie shared how she grew up in a small, dirty mobile home. There was a graveyard beside her house that seemed to seep into the walls of her livingroom. It was as if the dead lived there, and in a weird way, they did.

“It’s been hard for me to look at a knife and not think about killing them all again.” Natalie said.

“I get that,” Toby replied softly.

“Do you really?”

The boy gave Natalie a look, raising his eyebrow at her in question. She only shook her head.

“It’s dumb, really dumb. I have some weird resentment towards you for having your mom and sister in your life, because I never had that. I was always alone, and I’m pissed that you weren’t too.”

“Why’s it my fault that you had a shitty mom?” Toby spoke in a rougher tone, a growing hint of defensiveness at the girl's confession.

“I never said it was your fault. So what if my mother didn’t love me, it’s not a big deal. I’m just envious, I guess.” Natalie’s tone had grown rougher as well. The walls were rebuilt around the two, leaving them at a distance.

“Well you still had your brother.”

Natalie slammed her hands onto the countertop and quickly grew furious.

“What do you know about my brother?” She glared with furrowed brow, storming out before Toby could sneak a word in. The boy scowled back at the sudden anger and huffed to himself, crossing his arms in disdain. He stayed in the kitchen for a moment, defensive rage seeping off of him, before he heard the front door open, and slam shut. The house remained quiet.

That night, Toby slept on the couch, and Natalie hadn’t spoken a word to him. Neither of them apologized, they were both stubborn to a fault. Instead, the resentment would build, and linger, and stay until either of the two decided it wasn’t worth the energy anymore. But that night, Natalie laid alone in her bed. She listened to the ticking sound, like a time-bomb inside of her. The twilight shadow danced on the roof of her bedroom, and she wondered when it was going to end. Or if it even mattered in the first place. And in the desperate attempts to put the past behind her, she made the terrible mistake of shoving it down so deep she hoped she’d forget it was there. She beat down the rage, the terror, the agony, and told herself to get over it. Some nights, like this, she remembered it all. She remembered what it was like to be a little kid, hitting her head against the wall, hoping it’d stop, and it hurt. It hurt to remember. Natalie closed her eyes, and breathed in softly as she choked it all down again, and told herself to get over it. And then, all that remained was the rage.

Forgiveness had taken the two longer than usual, and for the remainder of the week, they didn’t talk, and Toby continued to sleep on the couch. He spent most of his time in the woods, Natalie spent most of her time at work, or in her room. One day, Toby had come back into the house to hear a series of loud bangs and clatters coming from Natalie’s art room. He cautiously approached the room, one hand remained gripped on the handle of his hatchet holstered on his belt, and he slowly opened the door. Toby’s eyes widened at the massacre.

Natalie stood over a demolition of her paintings slashed and disfigured. It was a crime scene of art, a tragedy. Toby stared down at the mess, and then to the girl standing amongst it holding a knife. Her hair fell over her darkened eyes.

“I can’t stop destroying things.” She spoke softly, in a tone of confession. As if she were at the feet of God begging for atonement. In a way, standing across from Toby, she was. And he had to bear witness to her sin. Natalie pushed past him, the knife in her hand, and Toby silently watched her leave.

“I’m going into town. Don’t bother coming with.”

The boy remained still, holding his breath until the sound of the front door closing confirmed the girl's leave. He looked over the sea of Natalie’s paintings torn to shreds, snapped in half, there wasn’t a single survivor. Toby sighed to himself as he walked over, and began to clean up the mess. He saved the paintings he thought could be repaired, and reluctantly tossed away the ones that were beyond rescue. As he worked through the destruction, Toby saw an old sketchbook of hers, dated from before she had woken up on the bus to North Dakota, to a couple of days after Toby had found her. A title was hastily scribbled at the top in marker: “Important”.

He didn’t mean to invade her privacy, he just couldn’t stop his hands from flipping through the pages. He looked at sketches of corpses, girls torn apart, bugs of all kinds. He saw drawings of a boy being tortured and maimed, it was a reoccuring theme. Then, there was a gap in the dates, and it seemed the style had changed to something more concise, more knowledgeable. Toby flipped to the last few pages, and stared for a moment, his heart beginning to beat quickly in his chest. There were portraits which looked awfully a lot like him. The messy hair, the tired brown eyes, the gash that used to be on his cheek, until the last two where he looked as he did now. Of all the girls' art, gore, guts, revenge, the portraits of the boy were touched only with a subtle sort of peace and tenderness. A quiet sort of fondness.

Toby’s trained glare softened, and a smug smile twitched its way onto his face as he closed the sketchbook and put it back in its place, eyeing the title once more. He closed the door of the room behind him, and decided to spend the rest of his day glued to the TV.

Later in the night, as Toby laid on the couch drifting off to sleep with a movie playing in the background, he was suddenly awoken by a loud slam. Toby quickly sat up, and rushed over to the noise. He watched as Natalie drunkenly rushed into the house, stumbling as she ran into the bathroom. She only got half of the vomit into the toilet. The boy crouched down beside her as she groaned over the bowl, he could tell she was beyond wasted.

“Fun night?” He joked, to which Natalie only groaned again in reply. Toby fought back a teasing smile as he held her hair back, letting her choke out the last of the alcohol content burning in her stomach. Natalie fell back and propped herself up against the wall, wiping her mouth sloppily.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Toby suggested as he stepped over the girl and turned on the bath.

The boy squeezed his eyes shut as Natalie sat naked in the tub, the shower head off the hook and in his hand. She stayed quiet as she held her knees up to her chest, hiding herself in case he looked. He didn’t dare to. Toby ran the water over her hair, and down her back, cleaning off the drunkenness and soil. The girl sniffled to herself, staring mindlessly at the water pouring into the drain as it ran off of her. She felt as the boy worked shampoo into her tangled hair, his hand gentle on her scalp. He leaned over the tub, silent for a moment, eyes still closed.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have anyone there for you as a kid, Nat. I wouldn’t have ever left you alone if I knew you back then,” Toby said softly.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. It doesn’t mean anything to me,” She said back, in a quiet tone, nearly a whisper, “I spent so much time screaming and begging for someone to help. And no one ever did, so I realized quick that nobody was coming to save me anyways. I guess I lost hope awhile ago.”

“But you’re still angry, aren’t you?”

“Nobody is as angry as a 16 year old girl,” Natalie half-smiled as she continued to stare at the drain.

“The thing that still gets to me is that the cycles never really end, you know? I never cared about dying because I was left to die night after night and still woke up again in the morning. A few hundred years ago there must’ve been a girl just like me, and now she’s 6ft under. I guess I’m just coming to terms with that. For once, I don’t want to die.”

Toby stayed silent for a moment as he washed the soap out of her hair, holding his hand on her forehead to prevent the water from running into her eyes. The air was heavy, and the bathroom lights glowed warmly, an old yellow tint on the tiled floors, the rusted bathtub. She closed her eyes and choked back a sob. She leaned into his touch. Only the sun had ever been that close.

“Toby?”

“Yeah?”

“When you first got here, remember how I told you I woke up on a bus headed for North Dakota?”

“Yeah.”

“I lied. I came to this world back in the place I grew up in,” Natalie spoke as quietly as she could, fearing her words would slur and crack with her grief-ridden rage.

“I remember being so disoriented, having my damn eye back. Everything was blurry for a moment, I just heard the sound of someone choking. And… And I looked down, and my vision started to clear up, and I saw my brother…” She paused for a moment, and took a deep breath before continuing, “He was on the floor, overdosing on some pills, choking on his own vomit. I didn’t bother to save him.”

Toby reached over, and in his blindness, felt around to turn the water off. He passed the girl a towel, and sat still.

“Do you regret it?” He asked.

“I regret not killing him myself.”

He listened as Natalie slowly climbed out of the bathtub, and walked past him. He listened as she changed into the pajamas he had brought over for her. He sat still with his eyes closed until she told him it was fine to look.

Toby slept in the bed again that night, and held the girl close to his chest. As he slowly drifted off to sleep, breathing in her smell of smoke and evergreen, she spoke quietly.

“I’ll be gone in the morning.” Natalie pressed her head close into him, listening to the boy's heart beat with nervousness.

“That’s fine, Nat. I’m just going to enjoy the time we have tonight then.” He whispered back.

Natalie had woken up first that morning, and quietly snuck out of bed. There was something about her. A blank look in her eyes, tired. She used to be kind, polite, easy on the eyes. That didn't last very long. She wasn't a girl anymore, or a sinful daughter, and as she poured the coffee into a mug, she hoped that the caffeine could fix it, just this once. And staying true to her word, as she sipped the last of her drink, she left before the boy had awoken.

Toby, alone in the room, sat on the creaky old bed. He tiredly shuffled down the hallway and into the empty kitchen, the smell of coffee still sitting in the air. He must’ve just missed her, the boy thought. Toby grabbed a bowl from the cupboard, and made himself a cereal breakfast, still half-asleep. His eyes met the scenery outside the window, the farmland looked magnificent blanketed in white snow, dragging over the hills. Toby only wondered what it'd look like painted red.

He wasn’t entirely sure when, or if, Natalie was going to return, but she stayed in his thoughts. He thought she laughed like a wildfire, and smiled like God. They had been best friends for years, and he realized, in the most horrible way, he really did like her. And to his relief, she came back to him early into the afternoon. The girl seemed to be in a better mood, grotesque as ever, indifferent to the world, though there was a remaining feeling of awkwardness and irritation from the night before. Natalie told Toby about a farmers market in town, if he wanted to go with her, and he did.

The two walked around the bustling paths of the market, staying close to each other's side, disregarding strange looks. There was little crop to buy during the winter markets, so a lot of the locals would sell personal creations, or baked goods. It was early February, and a particularly warm day, to their luck. Little frost gathered on their jackets, their cheeks were barely flushed with windchill. The sun beamed down on the two as they wandered through the market, chatting over what to waste their money on. Eventually, Toby found himself talking with an old man who had been selling his woodwork. Natalie stood by his side quietly, groaning to herself about the crowd of people that surrounded them. She hated crowds, she hated people. Toby had a way with them, it was easy for him to make conversation, though he wasn’t always the best at it. He could reel anybody in with a quick joke, or an engaging question. Natalie never knew how he did it.

For a second, in the midst of the open air chatter, she thought she heard someone shouting her nickname from the old world: “Clocky”. She quickly glanced around, then brushed it off, before hearing it again, alongside Toby’s name. Natalie looked over the sea of people once more, lowering her brow as she scanned faces, and grabbed Toby’s hand to catch his attention. Being dragged away from his conversation, he asked what the issue was, before he noticed an expression of disbelief trace the girl's face as she looked into the crowd. Toby turned his head in the direction she stared, and his eyes widened.

“No fucking way-”

“Clocky! Toby!” The familiar girl shouted out as she waved frantically, running towards the two, pushing past the people in her way. Her black hair was tied up in a ponytail, her smile was wide.

“Nina?”

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