#sorry it’s so orange„ the settings i had for my screen colors on my laptop to look similar to my phone’s reset :c

[lifeonmvrs]

happy holidays from attorney matt murdock (who is definitely not daredevil)

[Image Description: a half-body digital drawing of matt murdock from the daredevil comics. he is wearing a red sweater with white text that reads “i’m not daredevil”, a diadem with devil horns on his head, and black glasses. he’s standing with open arms and a cheerful expression while holding a white cane decorated to look as a candy cane with a little plant at the top end. at the right, there’s a bubble text reading “happy holidays, people!”. the background is a solid red with an ugly sweater pink pattern with crosses and devil horns hands. /end ID]

[another-tmnt-writer]

Truth or Dare?

Raphael x Reader

Author: Admin Mo

Summary: When Mikey needs another actor for his film project, Raph gets roped into it. He didn’t, however, expect for his costar to be so cool.

Note: There are not NEARLY enough college au fics for the bayverse boys, so have this as my first contribution. <3

Warnings: Swears, mentions of drinking, plenty of fluff

Word Count: 3.9k

“Raph, PLEEEEEAAAASE!!!” Mikey folded his hands together, pleading. “We need actors for our project and our group members can’t be in it.”

Mikey, as part of his endeavor to explore every creative program at the university the turtles were currently attending, was taking a filmmaking class. And, as a part of that class, he and his fellow classmates were required to make short projects in order to learn the basics of filmmaking, from writing to directing to using the equipment to editing. As an added bonus because his professor was so especially cruel, none of the people in his group could appear in his project, and while they had managed to recruit some of their classmates to fill in the smaller roles, one of the main roles was still unclaimed.

Raph scoffed. “Mikey, you know I can’t act for shit.”

“You don’t have to actually be good at it!” He pleaded. “You should see some of the other projects. No one in the program is good at acting.”

Raph was quiet for a second, his large arms crossed in front of him, thinking. “How long is it gonna take?”

“Few hours.” Mikey shrugged. He raised an eyebrow. “And your costar is really, really hot.”

Raph sighed, disgruntled. “When?”

“YES! DUDE THANK YOU SO MUCH! YOU WON’T REGRET IT!” Mikey ran and returned with a script and a schedule, shoving it into his older brother’s hands. “We film tomorrow!”

Raph’s eyes widened. “TOMORROW?!”

***

Raph went with Mikey to where the rest of his group was meeting to film their project. He hadn’t really had time to look at the script and Mikey assured him that they’d be filming in small enough chunks that he wouldn’t need to have very much memorized at a time. He also didn’t really know what kind of movie it was and he didn’t care; he just couldn’t wait until it was over.

A few minutes after they arrived, so did his costar. And god, he couldn’t stop staring. Mikey was right. God, why was Mikey always right?

“I am so sorry I’m late. The bus almost hit a pedestrian and it was a whole thing.” You apologized.

“Don’t worry about it!” Mikey waved off your concern. “This is my brother, Raph.”

“Nice to meet you, Raph. I’m (Y/N).” You introduced, a warm smile on your face.

Raph didn’t miss the way your eyes lingered on him, but instead of the looks disdain he usually got, instead it seemed to be curiosity. Awe, even? Weird, he decided, but not unwelcome.

It was a long, awkward moment before he realized he’d better respond. “Oh, uh, nice to meet you too.”

“Um, you guys can get to know each other a little better. We’ve gotta get the equipment set up.” Mikey said, leaving the two of you on your own.

The filming location was a place you were very familiar with: the library. Particularly, in front of the cozy little coffee shop in the library.

“I didn’t really, uh, look at the script, but I’m guessing they needed a monster for a horror movie or something…” Raph flipped through the pages, skimming.

“It’s a rom com.” You corrected quietly. “I’m the main character. You’re the love interest.”

If Raph could physically blush, he was sure his cheeks would rival the color of his mask. “…Oh.”

“Is that alright?” You asked.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah it’s fine, I just…” He chuckled to himself. “I ain’t ever acted in anything before, let alone anything romantic.”

“It’s not too much, I don’t think.” You reassured him. “I’m pretty sure the most they’ll have us do is awkwardly brush hands. It’s a coffee shop meet-cute.”

“Gotcha.” And while he was relieved, he was also a little…disappointed? Huh. Weird. “So, uh, what’s yer major?”

“I’m a film major. I’m in Mikey’s class and they needed actors, so I’m paying it forward in case I need someone in my project. What’s yours?”

“I’m undecided. Just, uh, taking some time to figure things out, you know. I never really had any…school experience before this.”

“That’s a lot to adjust to.”

“Yeah, it is. I’m getting used to it, though.”

“That’s good! If you need any help with anything, let me know. I’ve picked up a bunch of good tips and tricks.”

He chuckled. “I will, thanks.”

“Do you have snapchat?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“One second.” You fished your phone out of your bag and unlocked it, opening the app to your snapcode, which he scanned and added you. “There you go.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course.”

Raph took some more time reading over the script to get the gist of the scene and you were right. Indeed, it was a rom com. Not his preferred genre, by any means, but maybe he’d warm up to it a bit over the course of the day.

“Hey (Y/N)?” Mikey called from over where they had the camera set up on the tripod. “Do you know how to white-balance this thing? Everything is orange for some reason. Which is a great color, but I’m sure Smith will dock us points for it.”

“Oh, I’ve got you.” You nodded. You looked up at Raph, your purse in hand. “Will you hold this for a second?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” He nodded, holding out a giant three-fingered hand to take the bag from you. He watched you walk over to where the rest of the group was standing, crowded around the camera. You worked your magic, shuffling through the menu and helping adjust the camera correctly. Raph couldn’t stop staring. You looked so focused. So passionate. He could tell you really liked film and everything it entailed and he wished he could just find something he cared about as much as you cared about your major.

“Awesome.” He heard Mikey say, his eyes fixed on the camera’s screen. “Thanks!”

“Of course!” You walked back over to where Raph was and he handed you your bag back. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but Mikey walked over to the two of you.

“You guys ready? I think we’re good to start now.”

“All set.” You confirmed, giving him a thumbs-up, and Raph nodded.

***

Raph might have to reconsider his stance on this acting thing. Did he think he was all that good at it? No. But so long as he had you as a costar, he’d act willingly in any project Mikey (or you) needed him for. And at the end of the shoot, he ended up having a really good time. So much so that when you guys were all done, he was…sad. Like, really sad about it.

You parted ways. You weren’t in any of his classes, so Raph wasn’t really sure if he’d see you around that much. And he didn’t see you around…until a few weeks later.

He was at the library studying with his brothers at their favorite table when suddenly, his phone buzzed, a message from snapchat coming in. He looked at the notification, doing a double-take when he read your name there. And when he reached to answer it, he moved too fast and knocked his shell-shaped cell phone off of the table.

Shit.

He bent down to pick it up and when he opened the snapchat, he was surprised to see…the back of his shell? It was captioned: “I spy with my little eye…Something red and green 😉”

Immediately, he whipped around, and sure enough, nestled in a table by the windows was you, looking at him over the top of your laptop screen. You giggled when he spotted you, waving.

Raph nudged Mikey, who was sitting across from him and Mikey traced Raph’s eyeline to where you were, his face immediately lighting up.

“Oh! Hey (Y/N)!” Mikey waved. “You wanna sit with us?”

“Is that alright?”

“Hell yeah!” Mikey motioned you over. “The more the merrier! We can pull up a chair over here on the end.”

So, you gathered your stuff while the guys rearranged some things, putting you on the end of the table, right between Mikey and Raph. When you got over there, you noticed they were sitting with the other two giant mutated turtles on campus, who you had heard of, but hadn’t met yet.

“(Y/N), these are our brothers. Leo’s over there in the blue, our fearless leader. And this is Donatello, the one we go to for homework help.”

“Not tonight you aren’t. This paper is due at midnight and it is…” Donnie glanced down at the clock on his laptop and as soon as he did, he started typing impossibly faster. “Eleven thirty-seven. Do not look at me or breathe in my direction.”

“Noted.” Mikey nodded, a trace of fear in his eyes.

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N). You’re in one of Mikey’s classes, right?”

“Yep! I’m in his film class.” You smiled, taking a sip of your iced coffee. “I got the pleasure of costarring with this one.” You nudged Raph lightly, causing him to smile the most genuine smile Mikey had ever seen on his older brother’s face.

Huh. Mikey took note, something devious stirring in the back of his mind. Interesting…

“What did you get on that, by the way?” You asked.

“We got an A! Well, Minus. But you know how Smith is.”

“Dude that’s awesome!” You bumped your fist against his. “Good job. I’m pretty sure my group got a B, but we’re not mad about it. C’s get degrees, as they say.”

“Cheers to that.” Leo chuckled.

“What are you working on today, Raph?” You asked, tilting your head in a way that sent his heart racing in a way he could not explain.

“I have a paper for my Writing 150 class.”

“Oof that sucks. Who do you have?”

“Trainor.”

“Ouch. She hated me.” You grimaced, shaking your head. “She found out I was bi and it was all over for me.”

“Did you report her? I’m pretty sure you can report her for that sort of thing.” Raph asked, trying not to get heated over it. He was pretty sure she didn’t like him very much either, but it was probably due to the fact that he was a giant green turtle. “That’s bullshit.”

“I’m in the process of that right now.” You nodded. “She’s a bitch. I don’t know if they’ll actually do anything about it though.”

“Keep me posted. I might file something too if she doesn’t stop glaring at me during class.” Raph grumbled. “It’s annoying.”

“That would be annoying. Her beady little eyes glaring at you for two agonizing hours of ‘This is how to correctly use a comma’.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. It is.”

You glanced at your phone, which buzzed with a text from one of your roommates. “Oh! Uh, do you guys have any plans this weekend?”

“Nope. Why?” Mikey asked, curiosity seeping into his voice.

“My roommate is throwing a party, if you guys wanna come. It’ll be pretty chill. Drinks, pizza, some music.”

“Oh hell yes.” Mikey nodded. He looked at Leo. “Leo, can we?”

“I don’t see why not.” Leo shrugged. “Sounds like a good time.”

“Is there a dress code?” Mikey asked. Now that he was finally allowed to socialize, he didn’t want to fuck it up.

“Nope. Just casual. Come as you are.”

“Do you need us to bring anything?”

“If you guys have a drink of choice, bring that, I guess, but otherwise, my roommate’s boyfriend works at a pizza place, so we get a pretty good discount and we have literally so much wine.”

“That’s amazing.” Mikey nodded, making a mental note to look into jobs at a pizza place later.

“We’ll bring a veggie tray.” Donnie said, his fingers flying across the keyboard of his laptop until finally, he stopped. “I finished, by the way.”

“Good job, dude!” Mikey gave him a thumbs up. “You wanna write mine next?”

“Ha.” Donnie stared at him. “Funny.”

“What’s your paper on, Raph? Maybe I can help.”

Raph turned his laptop towards you. “We have to write it about like growing up. You can, uh, read it if you want. I don’t mind. I’m kinda stuck right now anyway.”

“Okay.” You agreed, switching his laptop for yours. You winked. “Trade ya.”

“What are you writing about?” He asked, scrolling to the top of your document.

“Women in Film.” You shot finger guns at him. “I’m about to make some Film Bois REALLLL mad.”

“Roast ‘em, (Y/N).” Mikey laughed, knowing all too well exactly which film boys you were talking about. He was not a fan.

“That’s the plan.” You chuckled and then started reading over Raph’s paper. You had known before meeting them that they hadn’t exactly had the best childhood, but…wow was it eye-opening reading the experience from his eyes. “Holy shit.”

“That bad?” He joked, trying to read your expression.

“No, it’s…Raph, this is really good, but wow. You guys went through a lot, huh?”

“Yeah…” He shrugged. “It wasn’t all bad, but it sure wasn’t normal by any means.”

“Mmm…” You nodded, looking up at him. “I mean, normal is kinda overrated.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad ya think so. Not many people do.”

You shrugged, smiling softly. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not like many people.”

***

“(Y/N), this place is as clean as it’s gonna get. It’s a party. It’ll be messed up in,” your roommate, Haley, glanced down at her watch, “like twenty minutes.”

“I know, I just…I’m nervous. These guys are basically superheroes. I want to make a good impression.”

“Fair point.”

You swept the kitchen floor and got out the cutest paper plates you had in the cupboard as well as some solo cups and plastic wine glasses. If you could avoid broken glass today, that was probably the move.

The doorbell buzzed and your heart raced, but it was just your other roommate’s boyfriend with the pizza.

“Is Darcy here?” He asked.

“She’s upstairs getting ready, you explained, helping him get the pizza and breadsticks and everything set up on the counter. He’d also brought a few two-liters of Pepsi, which was good. You put it next to the giant jug of fruit punch you’d bought at the grocery store. It was important to make sure your non-drinking friends had something to drink, too.

A few minutes after, guests started arriving. Darcy came downstairs and started up her iconic party playlist. Your neighbors popped in. It was easier to invite them and let them have a good time with you than have them call security on you guys for throwing a party, even if it was the weekend and it was only nine.

You turned off the lamps in the living room and instead set your strip lights to party mode, causing them to cycle through a bunch of colors in time with the music. It was then that the doorbell rang again and you rushed to the mirror to check yourself once more. You adjusted your hair, straightened out your top, and checked your teeth for food. Nope, you were good.

So, with the rest of the hosts distracted, you opened the door. On the other side of it were four tall, green gentlemen, one of them carrying a veggie tray.

“Hey guys, come on in!”

You moved out of the way so they could step inside.

Mikey’s eyes widened, looking into the living room full of dancing college kids. “Woahhhhh this is awesome!”

“Glad you think so.” You laughed. “There’s food and drinks in here, the bathroom is in the hallway, and everyone else seems to be either in the living room or the back yard.”

“Where do you want this veggie tray?” Donnie asked.

“Thank you so much for bringing this, by the way! You can set it over by the pizza boxes. I can get a spoon for the dip.” You said, walking towards the silverware drawer and producing a spoon while Donnie popped the lid off of the plastic serving tray and opened up the dip. You handed him the spoon.

The guys were each sporting their signature color, but they were wearing clothes you hadn’t seen them in before. Usually, Raph liked to wear a large gray hoodie, but today, he was sporting a black t-shirt and an impossibly large red flannel with some jeans. It looked good on him. Like, really good.

Apparently, he was thinking the same thing, because as soon as you were free, he walked up to you and nudged you gently. “You look really good.”

Your cheeks flushed with warmth and you wished you could blame it on wine, but you hadn’t even had a sip yet. “Thanks. You clean up pretty nice yourself.”

Had you worn a red top on purpose? Yes, absolutely. Would you admit to it, though? No, definitely not.

But Mikey noticed. Oh, Mikey noticed everything. And he couldn’t help but think that you and his older brother would make quite the couple. Maybe there was something he could do to just…give it a little push.

***

The time came later, when the party was finally starting to wind down. Some people had left. Your neighbors had gone home, and you’d switched the strip lights to a light, warm color. You’d also switched the upbeat party playlist for something chill to play in the background. The remaining partygoers were all settled in a circle in the living room, eating whatever pizza was left, sipping on box wine, and playing a game of truth or dare.

“Haley, truth or dare?” Darcy challenged.

“Truth.”

“Okay…Fuck, Marry, Kill: Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth and…..Chris Pine.”

“DAMN.” She cursed. “You can’t do that to me. Shit. Uh…Fuck Chris…Hemsworth. Marry Chris…Pine? And—”

“Don’t you do it!” You warned.

“Kill Chris Evans.”

“Noooooooooo!” You whined, taking a sip of your drink. The rest of the group laughed. “Poor Captain America.”

“Rest in pieces, Cap.” She agreed, shaking her head. “Okay…Mikey, truth or dare.”

“Dare.” Mikey answered quickly. He always picked dare, so in the fifth round of the game, it wasn’t much of a surprise.

“I dare you…to take a shot of straight lemon juice.”

“Easy peasy.” Mikey scoffed, pouring himself a shot and downing it.

You watched as his face contorted at the sour, sour taste. You couldn’t help but giggle a little at that.

“Good job, Mikey.” Donnie laughed, dipping a piece of broccoli in dip before popping it into his mouth.

“Taking it like a champ.” Leo added, nodding.

“Alright, my turn?” Mikey asked, looking around the circle for his victim, pretending he hadn’t been planning this since round one. “(Y/N). Truth or dare?”

You thought about it for a second. How easy it would be to just choose truth again, but for some reason, you were feeling a little brave, so instead, you picked, “Dare.”

“Oooooooh,” the circle said, all of them a little surprised by that choice.

“Okay. Alright.” Mikey rubbed his hands together mischievously. All according to plan. “I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

“OOOOOOOHHHH!” The circle all stared at you and you thought for a second, a smirk settling on your features.

“Oh that’s easy.” You got up and crossed the circle until you were standing in front of Raph. Even sitting down, he was almost your height. “Think I could get a kiss?”

Raph stared up at you, shocked, waiting for you to say Sike! HAHA! Did you actually think I thought you were hot?! Loser!

But you never did, instead looking down at him with sincerity, patience. Were you a little…nervous, even?

“Why me?” He whispered, his eyes fixed on you. There were plenty of good-looking human guys still there, and yet you were certain. Unwavering. Then, louder, he asked, his heart absolutely fighting to get out of his chest, “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” You nodded, starting to lean closer. Once you were most of the way in, you let him meet you in the middle, your soft human lips meeting his, which were, you had to admit, way softer than you thought they would be.

Raphael kissed you like you were made of glass, like if he moved too fast, you would shatter. It was his first kiss, after all, and he didn’t want to fuck it up.

When it finally ended, you walked back to your seat in the circle, your cheeks rosy, heart racing. Haley gave you a nudge and you giggled, your stomach filled with butterflies. The rest of the game went along with little fanfare, and once everyone was tired enough, the apartment cleared out even more, leaving just your roommates, Darcy’s boyfriend, and the turtles, who insisted on helping clean everything up. Well, it had been Leo’s idea, but the rest had agreed to stick around to help.

You volunteered to go out into the backyard to pick up all of the stray solo cups and White Claw cans. You hated litter. You worked out there alone for a bit. As you bent down to pick up the last can you heard the signature screech of the sliding door opening.

Raph squeezed through the narrow doorway, cursing his shell for making him so damn wide.

“Hey,” you said softly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Your voice was almost swallowed up by the sounds of the choir of crickets outside.

“Hey.” He closed the sliding door. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded, tying off the trash bag you were using to collect garbage. “How was your first college party?”

“It was great. Really, really great.” He said, taking slow steps through the grass towards you. “Um…I…did you mean what you said? Earlier.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you…was I really…” he laughed at the absurdity of it. “You think I’m hot?”

“I do.” You nodded. “Of course I do.”

“I’m sorry if I find that a little hard to believe.” He shook his head, stopping right in front of you. When he was standing in front of you like this, he was remined of just how big he was compared to you, just how much he towered over you. Just how different you were. “I’m just used to the opposite reaction.”

“Believe it.” You reached forward and took his hand in yours, gripping one of his giant green fingers.

“I’m trying to.” He chuckled and fiddled with your little hand, nervous. “You know, uh…that was my first kiss in there. I wasn’t too awful, was I?”

“I didn’t mean to steal your first one.” You laughed softly. “Sorry. But to answer your question, I thought it was perfect.”

“That’s a relief.” He was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Uh…If it’s alright with ya…I’d like to give you my second kiss, too.”

Instead of answering, you took another step closer, looking up, up, up into his piercing green eyes. “You’re gonna have to come down here; I can’t reach.”

He laughed. “Right.” Raph craned his neck down, one of his large hands tilting your face up towards his so he could meet you in the middle for another perfect kiss.

***

“What are you doing?” Leo asked Mikey, who was peering through the blinds into the back yard of the apartment.

Mikey only grinned proudly, nodding to himself. “Works every time…”

[hannie-dul-set]

US, AGAIN | four.

SUMMARY. they say history repeats itself, but you’d like to disagree. you had to disagree. history changes, even if you had to force it. but when all your attempts to twist fate were met by nothing but the flashing recurrences of the past, what were you supposed to do?

or, wherein you try everything in your power to have nothing to do with na jaemin, but na jaemin wants nothing but you.

PAIRING. na jaemin x female! reader GENRE. college! au, historical! au, soulmate! au, past lives, forbidden love stuff, reincarnation, romance, drama, humor, angst, fluff, looots of flashbacks, this is an entire kdrama, very loosely inspired by the webtoon “see you in my 19th life” WARNINGS. (for this chapter only) swearing, night terrors, hospital mentions, passing out, the works hgdhjasf WORD COUNT. 5.1k

NOTE. I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG <///3 but life is life thank god we only have to go through this once unlike our dearest mc HJGASDJSF anyway!! lots of jaemin fluff here!! you’ll want to punch him in the face!! hope u enjoy <3

CHAPTER FOUR: why the sun sets and rises

(Running.

Through the winding branches that cut into the air, the silver lake, the jagged ground, the clouds in the wind at each and every shallow pant, you were running—

A gunshot.

—running until your legs gave away.)

You woke up in a cold sweat.

God.

Looking around, you noticed that it was far too early for you to be awake— the hazy light that barely slipped through the thin curtains, the desolate silence that seemed to have consumed your room whole, and the bedside digital clock down below you that said 6:21AM in big bold letters, indicating that you should be fast asleep especially after staying up at ungodly hours in the morning finishing up an assignment. But even after burying your head in between two of your pillows, you couldn’t even suffocate yourself into unconsciousness.

You groaned and jumped off of the top bunk.

When your feet landed on the floor, you had expected to see Seungah’s ghost of a face lying sideways on the bottom bunk, but all that met you was a small, neon orange sticky note laying soundly on her smoothed out pillow. ‘Had to leave early to the diner! Eat the breakfast I made you or else xoxo’, it said. You sighed.

There was no point mulling over the past when you had an entire future to take care of.

“Oh my gosh.”

Hong Nabi was in shock with what she saw when she arrived at the benches by the garden to work on your group assignment today. It was shocking to the point that she dropped all her binders and papers onto the pavement.

You sighed, sliding out of your seat to help her. She spared you a few, quick glances as the both of you were slouched on the floor, and he couldn’t help but bite her bottom lip in worry. The Y/N that was usually so cool, so put together, and so unbothered looked like she was casket ready. That, or ready to star in a Tim Burton animation.

“Is it Halloween today..?”

“Let’s just get this thing started,” you groaned, finally finished cleaning things up and you were now back onto your seat. Nabi sat right in front of you, organizing her now jumbled up material. She wanted to ask if you were okay— but would that be offensive considering that you were very clearly not? Still, she opened her mouth to speak, but was scared into silence when you suddenly cursed out loud. “Since when did this become a paired project? Where the hell are they?”

Nabi pressed her lips together, looking around. “I’m not sure.”

You still had around two weeks more until the presentation, but that didn’t mean that they could slack off as much as they wanted. In a fit, you grabbed your phone from your sling bag, exasperatedly tapping on the fragile screen that Nabi was almost sure that you were going to break it, but before you managed to burst a vein, an incoming sound of noises and laughter approached your ears.

Boys will be boys, but you weren’t having any of that shit.

“Yah,” the moment Jeno, Renjun, and Donghyuck showed up at your table as if nothing was wrong, you decided to smack the nearest head with a rolled up sheet of stapled paper. “Didn’t we agree to start at nine?”

“Yah,” Donghyuck snatched the weapon from you, his other hand focused on caressing the spot on his head that you’d just every so gently smacked. “Don’t you ‘yah yah’ me, missy. Did you forget that you’re younger than us?”

If only he knew.

“Is that so? You should grow a sense of responsibility, then. It doesn’t take fifty fucking years.”

With that, you let out a huff and swung your laptop open.

The rest of the people occupying the table exchanged concerned glances as they shuffled to find seats of their own. They haven’t known you for long, but this type of temperament from you was arguably out of the ordinary. Even when Donghyuck would strike a chord too dangerously, you wouldn’t snap at him— today, you weren’t your usual self, and they all mutually agreed in silence that they were going to tread carefully if they still wanted their heads attached to their necks.

When the sounds of your fingers clicking against the keyboard stopped, they felt their hearts stopping, as well.

You looked up from the laptop screen, proceeding to look around, closed your eyes, and then breathed out. “Where’s Jaemin?”

At that moment they all flipped their phones open, scrolling, clicking, and typing before they can taste any more of your unraveled temper. You had to admit, you were feeling a little guilty for being such a bitch. A part of it was yes, sleep deprivation, shitty nightmares, and a whole truck load of stress can really take a toll on your sanity, but the other part was voluntary.

Jeno looked up, the first person who managed to pinpoint Jaemin’s whereabouts. “He just texted. He says he’s running— oh, there he is.”

There he was indeed, a couple of feet away from where you all were. Once you confirmed that he wasn’t absent, you turned back to continue working, but the rest of them continued to stare at Jaemin, who was barely hanging onto his dear life, sweating and panting. And as they all watched the poor boy breathlessly running towards the table, they all thought of the same thing with one mind, heart, and soul.

Na Jaemin was a dead man.

He pulled up right in front of you, hunched over breathless with his hands on his knees. He stood up and promptly apologized. “Ahh, so sorry for being late. I had to stop by somewhere and there was traffic. I’m really—”

“I didn’t ask about your personal business,” you hummed, not even looking at him. Everyone, not only Jaemin, flinched at your explicit coldness. “Did you get the files that we need?”

He looked at you. You weren’t looking at him, but you knew he was looking at you.

“...Yeah. Hold on.”

As if the mood wasn’t already shit earlier, it actually turned into absolute horse crap after Jaemin arrived. It wasn’t his fault, really, but circumstance after circumstance didn’t exactly paint the prettiest picture of him. When the clock finally struck eleven in the morning, everyone except you all released a synchronous sigh. “We’re done today, right?” Renjun asked, and you responded with a quick nod, noticeably a lot more mellow than earlier.

Nabi stood up and started fixing her things. “I’ll send everything later to you tonight, Y/N,” she smiled at you.

“Yeah, sure,”’ you hummed, nodding. “Thank you.”

The four boys froze. Why were you being nice to her? Of course, their complaints were verbalized into nothing more than silent whines, groans, and grumbles that easily flew above your ears, Jaemin being a lot more quiet about voicing his complaints than the rest despite taking most of your attacks.

Still, even if you were being particularly thorny to him, he thought it would be a good idea to speak out just as you were about to leave. “Do the both of you have any classes after this? We were planning on getting lunch together,” he said. “Would you like to join? My treat.”

You looked at him. There was a polite smile on your face. Evidently forced.

“No, thanks.”

Donghyuck let out a genuine gasp.

“Did she just—” he stammered, switching his sight back and forth from Jaemin to you. “Did she just turn down a free meal offer?”

“She did,” you sighed, rolling your eyes as he continued to gawk at you. You picked up your heavy bag from the bench seat. “I gotta get going. Have fun, you guys.”

And you let them just like that, with five pairs of eyes trained at the back of your head until they finally lost sight of you.

For someone like you, the bulletin boards at the bus stops were like a gold mine. A gold mine of part-time jobs just waiting to be filled. There were flyers haphazardly plastered onto the board, all in different colors and different fonts. You bit a chunk off of the granola bar that served as your lunch for today, eyes meticulously scanning the available offers, a few flyers already wedged in between your armpit.

“Hair salon assistant— can’t do that. Diner waitress— a hard maybe. Already have a restaurant job pending, my shifts might clash. Library assistant? Alright, I need to check it out further, though. What about a movie— oh!— oh my god, you scared me.”

“What are you doing here, Y/N?”

Sooah suddenly appeared beside you, looking up as she clutched her backpack straps. You let out a sigh of relief upon the realization that it was just her.

“Fancy seeing you here, cadet,” you hummed, folding the neatly folding the few flyers that you had and shoving into your sling bag along with the emptied granola bar wrapper. “Are your classes over?”

“Mhm! I’m waiting for my mom to pick me up.”

“Aren’t you honored to spend time with me as you wait?”

You let out a chuckle, sitting down on the wooden seat, patting down the empty spot beside you, and Sooah happily hopped to sit down right away. Peeling off one of the flyers stuck onto the board, you decided to fold it— once, twice, countless more times until the flat, square piece of paper was now shaped into a lotus flower. Sooah beamed in amazement.

“Y/N,” she started, and you dropped the little paper flower onto her tiny hands. She placed it on her lap before looking up to you, large eyes hinted with curiosity. “The story you told us last time— was it a true story?”

You suddenly felt a chill in the air.

“...Why do you ask?”

“Oh, well,” she mused. “My mommy is a Korean Literature teacher at my school, but she teaches a grade above me. Sometimes, I’d go through her stuff to read some stories that I haven’t read in my class, and the other day—”

Uh oh.

After living for twelve whole lifetimes and currently going through your thirteenth, there was always this feeling that haunted you all throughout, a feeling that you were all too familiar with. It was gnawing, grinding, and chewing up the bottom most part of your gut. A warning sign for something bad to come.

You were definitely feeling that right now.

“—I found the same story as the one you told us, big sis.”

Yep. It was never wrong, and it never will be. You bit down your bottom lip.

“And I found something interesting!” oh, how much more must anxiety drown you, but Sooah seemed so excited that you didn’t have the heart to stop her. You raised a brow, urging her, and she smiled brightly. “You said you don’t remember the girl’s name, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Y/N! She has the same name as you!”

Of fucking course.

“The last name is different, though—” she added as an afterthought. “She was Song Y/N, and you’re not. Still. Isn’t it really cool?”

Not cool at all. You wanted to scream, maybe cry a little and lose a generous chunk of your mind, because as far as you knew, there had never been an instance where you had heard of this story being shared to the public— to an entire class, nonetheless. It shouldn’t matter, right? It wasn’t your life anymore. Just an old, tragic tale passed on from mothers to their children as a bedtime story.

But somehow, it made you feel vulnerable.

How many more people knew about this?

“But, sis. You’re kind of a dummy, though. How could you forget someone’s name when it’s the same as yours?”

Sooah questioned, tilting her head, but it eventually washed pon her that you weren’t looking all too well. You had your lips splayed into an evident frown, worry creasing your forehead, which she could not at all get. Were you okay?

“Did you finish reading all of it?”

You asked after a bout of silence. Sooah shook her head in response. “No, not yet,” she huffed. “My mom caught me making a mess out of her things and scolded me.”

That’s good, you thought. At least she didn’t make it to the end— that would only complicate things. After a second of deliberation, you figured that this would be the best move if you played your cards right.

“Sooah,” you started. “Do you think your mom will let me borrow that story?”

The next day, your classes were all condensed into the afternoon— a deliberate decision to allow yourself to recharge in bed for the entire first half of the day.

But right now it was eight in the morning, yet you were already busying yourself inside the campus.

No, you didn’t have a group meeting today, neither did you have any prior commitments needed to be accomplished here in school, but you figured after not having a single fucking blink of sleep last night thanks to Sooah’s revelations yesterday, you might as well head to school early to apply for the part-time job at the library. Only one problem— where was the library?

It was eight in the morning. You had been here since seven-thirty. Not a single bookshelf in sight. You opted to just give up and mold yourself into the floor because you couldn’t even ask anyone for directions because no one was there.

Well. Almost no one.

You had just passed by a single living soul earlier as you were trudging around the bottom floor like a zombie, but you completely missed him. Na Jaemin caught your disheveled figure marching through the hallways earlier, evidently lost, as he left the faculty office with a steaming hot cup of coffee in his hands. He immediately brightened upon seeing you— as if his bloodstream was directly charged with caffeine, but he didn’t come around to approaching you until now. He couldn’t get the timing.

Even now, as he discreetly tailed behind you without your knowledge, he didn’t know when was the appropriate time to give you a simple ‘hello’. He pressed his lips together, taking in a sharp breath through his nose, and decided screw it— you wouldn’t even be happy to see him no matter the timing.

He picked up his pace and sounded from right behind you.

“Morning, group leader.”

You stopped, swiveling your heels around, and he was met with your grimacing face.

As expected. He gave you a blinding smile.

“How are you?”

“My morning is shit, thank you very much,” you spat. “Even more now, after seeing you.”

Ouch.

Jaemin knew that you weren’t exactly fond of him, and he’d spent too many hours wondering why. Maybe you just disliked him without bearing much of a reason. Some people were like that, but he didn’t hold it against you. He still pressed on with a smile.

And it irritated you.

(You believed that it was irritation, or made yourself believe. Yeah, let’s go with irritation.)

“Now, what do you want?” you crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one leg as you looked at him with exasperation. “You’re definitely not here to ask me about our assignment, right? I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I might as well say it to your face for your own good.”

You roughly shoved a finger to his chest, mustering up not a glare— but a plain look of disinterest.

“I don’t like you.”

Jaemin simply looked at you.

“You don’t like me.”

“No matter what you try to do, that won’t ever—wait, what? What the fuck?” you had to double take, expression suddenly morphing into a comical confusion, which Jaemin found cute, but of course he couldn’t say that out loud. He settled with the same smile as earlier, which you found a little more irritating as much as it was conflicting this time around. Within a second of silence, you felt heat slowly rising and you felt it slowly getting to your head. “You’re just gonna take that...as that?”

He let out a hum, shrugging. “I can’t dictate how you feel, can I?”

You gawked at him.

“You’re not even gonna ask why? Not even gonna protest?”

“Do you want me to?” he leaned forward, face a little closer to yours, smile a little more irritating than before, the heat growing a little more prominent than ever, your grasp on your consciousness becoming a little more hard to hold than earlier. You felt yourself getting caught in a stammer. “I would, if you want me to.”

Fuck this shit and fuck it completely.

“Where are you going?”

“None of your business,” you stormed off before you could find yourself getting caught inside a heatwave, breathing out long, fervent breaths to calm yourself down, the dizzying heat slowly getting to your head making you woozy. It would be a bad idea to even turn around and look at him. “I’d appreciate it if you don't follow me.”

Jaemin frowned when he saw your back yet again. He felt like this was the only thing he’d seen from you— your back perpetually facing him without any hope of you even turning around to spare him a quick glance, but he didn’t want to go against your wishes. He wasn’t planning on following you. But when you suddenly collapse on the floor a few feet away from him—

Thud.

—what else was he supposed to do?

(“Your Highness.”

It was without question that he’d answer your call sparing not even a second to waste with those gentle eyes of his, and this time was no different. The only difference being the quirk of his lips— pursed, pouting. He stepped away from the bush of azaleas, and stepped closer to you.

“I thought I told you not to call me that anymore,” he huffed, languidly dropping beside you on the stone bench, taking your hands into his with an earnest glimmer. “Say it. I want to hear you. Please?”

It was impolite to laugh at the prince— a punishable crime by itself. You were fortunate that he liked you enough.

“Your Highness,” you hummed. His shoulders drooped down, visibly dampening, but he shook his head with a newfound resolve and instead lended all of his attention to you, instead. “It is without saying that the very breath you take is incomparable to any person on this land—”

Your gaze darted upwards, looking at him.

“—but why do you choose to come see me everyday in the garden? Even when I am not around?”

He was still for a moment, fazed and the littlest bit taken aback, but not a second too long for you to spare any worry. A newfound smile playing on his lips, he lifted up your hands that he was holding, pressing a tender kiss on your knuckles.

“Why does the sun rise in the east and set in the west every single day?”

He looked at you, continuing.

“Just because it was made that way.”)

“Daegang.”

The whisper that you sounded in your state of unconsciousness caught Jaemin’s ears as he carried you to a vacant room inside the campus hospital. He looked down at you, your voice as clear as day despite the hoarseness of it, peeling himself away from your closed eyes, lashes fluttering above your cheeks before he could stumble over his own feet.

When he gently dropped you on to the bed, the mattress sinking underneath your weight, his windpipes nearly closed, a choking noise escaping the moment he felt you tug him down by the sleeve of his shirt, but he maintained his composure. He dropped your sling bag onto the bedside table, taking notice on the colorful piece of paper peeking out of the bag’s zipper mouth, a huff of a smile when he closed it up. Even you can be a little disordered, sometimes, he wondered in amusement as he gazed down on you.

Jaemin let out a huff of breath, dropping down the chair placed beside your bed, and he pulled out his phone to send a few messages here and there. An hour passed. He noticed you stirring underneath the sheets.

“Ah, you’re awake!”

Maybe you were, maybe you weren’t. You couldn’t tell if the blurred out silhouette of the face you have grown to both hate and love was a mere figment of your memories, or if he was actually real. There was the temptation brought about by your disorientation— to stretch your arm out to his face just to make sure, but you were lucky that your flimsy consciousness came at just the right time before you were to do anything regretful.

“Ugh.”

“You’ve been out for over an hour. Maybe you should just skip your remaining classes today,” at that point you were sure he was real. Na Jaemin had worry laced all over his voice, expression, and posture. It wasn’t a sight welcome to your peace of mind when you had just woken up after passing the fuck out. “What happened? Did you not get enough sleep? Did you skip breakfast? I asked Jeno to buy some food just in case you wake up and I’m not here, but you were unconscious for longer than I expected.”

“I’m fine, I’ll just—”

A regretful action. You tried to stand up, but all that happened was you falling pathetically back onto the bed.

“...”

“Don’t push yourself, Y/N,” Jaemin sighed, tucking you back in and placing a hand on your forehead, and by god you could hear the alarm bells ringing in your ears. “I checked earlier. It doesn’t seem like you have a fever. Oh? You’re starting to heat up, maybe you actually do—”

“I don’t!”

Was it possible to voluntarily pass out?

You threw the blanket over your head.

It was fortunate that he didn’t decide to press on, and instead he just left you alone underneath your makeshift tent to calm the sudden blazing of your face. Did he know that you were embarrassed? Oh god, did he know that it was because of him? Not that it was, of course, but it wasn’t unlikely for him to assume that he was the cause of your sudden temperature rise. It would be much better for him to believe that you did have a fever. Fuck, you should have just told him that you were sick.

“Knock knock,” outside of your blanket shield, you felt something lightly pressed at the side of your head, prompting you to peek outside, just enough for your eyes to be exposed. When you turned around, you were met by a box of Orion Choco Pie, just one of the few snacks that he had brought for you. “Here, have this. Eat.”

You blankly stared at the red box.

“What are you waiting for?”

“Leave it. I’ll eat once you leave.”

“No can do, missy,” Jaemin clicked his tongue, and without your consent, grabbed your nearest hand and opened it into a palm, placing the far too large box on top of it. “I have to make sure that you actually finish it.”

He was resilient.

Much like someone else, you grumbled, opening the packaging and stealing one of the cakes nestled inside. He had a satisfied smile on his face— almost like a proud parent watching his four year old daughter writing her name for the first time. You wanted to throw the damned snack to his face, but voted against the act and took a bite from it instead. “Fine. But for your information, I might have passed out because I barely got any sleep last night, so stop wasting your worries.”

“That doesn’t make things any better,” he said. “How am I supposed to stop worrying after hearing that? You should take care of yourself, Y/N.”

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

“I’m not buying it. I have to make sure that you’re getting enough sleep every day.”

“What the fuck? Do you think you’re my mom, or something?”

“No, what the hell? Don’t make things weird,” He grimaced, looking at you in disbelief. Holy fuck. You nearly broke out into a fit, if you were being honest. Na Jaemin who was usually all smiley and kind was looking at you with an expression that you were sure his facial muscles didn’t even have the knowledge to conjure. His next words were nothing more than a low grumble. “How can she think I want to be her mom when I like her? Jeez.”

The choco pie that you’d been eating threatened to climb back up your throat.

“Wh— What the fuck?”

“What?” Jaemin replied naively. “One more time? Should I repeat it? Y/N, I like—”

“Okay, okay, I got it the first time, please—!”

Dear lord, he was going to be the death of you. You took in a long, sharp, painful breath.

“I get it.”

Jaemin looked at you with a small smile. He didn’t seem like he was going to continue teasing, so you quickly scared down the remaining chocolate snake inside the box so that you could slip away from him as soon as possible. That wasn’t the best idea, though, because the choco pie almost ended up going down the wrong throat and the guy was sure to freak out over it. Luckily you managed to get away with forcing it down and having Jaemin only looking at you with a minimal amount of concern.

It was time to get the fuck out of here.

“Thank you for the food, Jaemin, but I need to get going,” he didn’t even get the chance to say anything, but you were already on your feet, ready to set out to the door. You looked back at his frozen stature before reaching out for the door handle. “I’ll pay you back some other time.”

You bowed politely. Jaemin had only gotten back to his senses once he’d realized that he couldn’t see your face anymore, only the back of your head— a sight that he’s used to seeing, a reminder of where he stood. He scrambled to his feet and took off after you.

“Wait, you should drink water first! And take these with you! Y/N—”

Shit. He didn’t want you to leave yet. Not when he’s finally had a proper conversation with you. The two of you were already out in the hallway, the glimpse of light from the heavily clouded sky leaking through the windows and coloring the white walls and floor with an out of place brightness and at one point the light stuck on you. It was difficult to match your pace— staying not too far behind, not right beside you, never ahead of you. He swallowed.

Jaemin felt bad about pulling this, but he couldn’t think of any other way to make you stay.

“Daegang.”

You froze on the spot.

There was a heavy weight anchoring Jaemin’s conscience, falling even heavier as you slowly turned around to face him. It fell to the bottom of his stomach the moment he caught your expression.

“How—” you stammered. “Where did you get that name?”

He pressed his lips together tightly, a considerable distance between the both of you as he averted his eyes. “You muttered it earlier while I was carrying you.”

“C—carrying?”

How else would he have hauled you over to the campus hospital? But an obvious fact such as that was still enough to dumb your IQ a couple of notches down. You would have been fine if he didn’t mention it and leave you in your blissful ignorance, but he just had to drill the existence of that fact that you were in his fucking arms when you had sworn to be a piece of shit to him.

The heat was rising to your head again just like earlier.

“Ah.”

You heard Jaemin utter a sound from a few steps in front of you— a light grumble, you’d assumed, but you weren’t entirely sure— and it was at that moment that you’d realized how freaking awkward the distance between the both of you was. Were you social distancing?

His hollow sigh and evident pout threw all of those meager thoughts out the window.

“Is he the reason why I can’t get close to you?

What the hell does he mean?

“An ex you can’t over?”

You broke into a coughing fit. Jaemin instantly ran over to you in panic, patting your back to help appease the violent coughs, but in reality he wasn’t of any help at all because his palm was barely touching you. “Holy fuck”—cough—“oh god. I guess— I guess you can say that...?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled from behind you. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. It must be a sensitive topic.”

“If you knew that it was touchy then why bring it up in the first place,” you shot him a glare, looking back, but it was less threatening and more questioning. You couldn’t bring yourself to get mad at him at this point. He stood there in blatant guilt, his expression, stature, and demeanor without any intention of hiding it all. This was why you couldn’t get mad at him. Jaemin was transparent.

You weren’t sure if it was just his nature or if it had something to do with you.

You wouldn’t know what to do if it was the latter.

His lips finally parted after a moment of silence to answer you— even if you hadn’t expected an answer in the first place.

“I didn’t know how else to make you talk to me a little longer.”

You didn’t know what to do, at all.

Jaemin’s cheeks were stained with a shade of pink and fuck— you could see in his eyes that were looking at you, trying not to look at you, that he was bearing all the sleeves of his heart to you without an ounce of regret, but a euphemism of the bright red color that he was trying to hide.

God.

Why did you have to meet him in this life?

“Why?” you voiced, quiet. “Why do you like me so much? You don’t even know me that well, and I’m not even in any way nice to you.”

He didn’t answer.

“So, why?”

For a moment, Jaemin kept quiet, as if waiting for the pink to fade from his cheeks before doing anything, but it never did. Even when his lips stretched into a closed smile, his eyes crinkling and showing the stars that weren’t in the sky, he was still tinged with that soft, powdery color.

He didn’t wait. He didn’t wait for you to speak when he left— when he left right after saying two words that stretched inside your mind until the sun set in the west and the skies turned pink.

“Just because.”

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© hannie-dul-set, 2021

[echo-three-one]

A Forgotten Memory

Likes and Reviews are appreciated. (Reblogs too!)

I - Alex

The bright California sunshine striked across Alex's face as soon as he shifted his sleeping position. The newly assigned agent clicked his tongue and covered his face with his heavily tattooed arms, letting out a slight groan of frustration. His head was slightly pounding from a night of irresponsible drinking, courtesy of his new found friends. It was almost always customary for him to get to know some locals for information, especially in foreign territories, but last night's set of people was wilder than he'd imagined. Americans do have their own definition of fun.

He wasn't much of a heavy drinker, so he actually felt the nasty after effects of the alcohol or whatever they took last night, but none of such pain did he regret. After all, he did get a decent amount of information without raising suspicion.

Sprawled across his apartment wall are photos, articles and a handful of red yarn interlacing across pins of different colors. His own evidence board finally made sense because of last night's encounter. Reports of missing people that later came back disoriented and have no recollection of what happened started increasing day by day and it all started in this exact city.

Taking a fresh white shirt from his gym bag, Alex slipped it on and made his way to the evidence board staring at the piece of paper he had from last night and comparing it against what he had so far. A smirk strewn across his face as he pins it on the board.

"Gotcha." he muttered proudly, blindly dialing his immediate supervisor over the phone.

"This is Alex. Intel was off, they're after a different person. I'm sending it to you as we speak." he informed over the encrypted lines. He did this expertly, as if his whole life was like this, secret spy work and a whole lot of information gathering.

"This one? She seems ordinary, even her name brings out zero results." the voice replied over his phone.

"That's why it makes much more sense. She may be using an alias." Alex commented, standing up from his laptop, casually pacing back and forth as his free hand rests on his hips.

"Well, I trust you know what to do. If she's being targeted then it's either she's being protected-"

"-or a threat to the enemy." he cut off, completing the caller's thoughts.

"Keep us posted while we monitor the other missing person cases."

"Got it." he assured as the call ended, taking one quick glance at the image displayed on his screen.

Samantha Cooper, age 26, a graphic designer at a nearby local company. Alex took his time staring at her, clearly familiarizing her face as she will be the object of his eyes for this mission. He can't help but appreciate how cute she is, how her brunette curls perfectly fit her facial features. It would be such a shame if she's actually a threat and it would make him a believer of the phrase "looks can be deceiving". He quickly tapped on his burner phone arranging a meetup with a certain person from last night, a person whom he believed to lead him right into Samantha.

* * *

Strong gusts of salty seaside air blew across Alex, who sat on a park bench by the baywalk waiting patiently for his guide. He somehow wished he brought a cap, as the harsh rays of the sun kept his eyes squinted while looking at his phone.

"There you are!" a short blonde haired woman greeted the agent as he busily taps on his phone. Alex quickly recognized the person as Maxine, also known as Samantha's best friend and roommate, whom he met at the bar just last night.

She wore tattered jeans and a white shirt covered by a gray cardigan, a typical choice of clothing around these parts.

"Yep." Alex stood as he shakes her hand, quite an awkward gesture to say the least, but she immediately dismissed it with a friendly hug.

"Handshakes are for acquaintances, Alex. If you're friends with Samantha, we're friends." Maxine hugged him as Alex slowly pats her back, still baffled by the action she's done. But it was no time to dwell on those, so he silently cleared his throat and went on to business.

She's obviously alone, but that could also mean Samantha's just letting her go first for confirmation, so Alex took quick glances at visible corners for any sign of her.

"So, where's Samantha?" he finally asked, the question was quite demanding almost indicating urgency. Maxine seemed to catch this reaction from him and made Alex slightly worry about his cover.

"She's still at work, but I'll lead you to our apartment. It's just a few blocks from here..." she goes on about how she should also know Alex at some point if he's really here staying. It felt like she's starting to get cautious whether to let them meet.

"You say you're a friend from her hometown? Come to think of it, she never told me where she came from." She asked the agent as they walk across the block.

"Yeah, from Georgia." Alex replied confidently. Her information was very limited, and judging from it, Samantha may have been also living with a lie. A lie that kept Alex from wondering if she's s threat or she needs to be protected.

"Really? Doesn't strike you both as from there. Or maybe that's just me. What do I know about that place anyway? I haven't been there..." she chuckled and Alex slightly laughed. He was almost being suspicious, something that never usually happens when he's gathering intel.

"Yeah. Moved a lot growing up. Gotta follow where my Dad's job is." Alex commented, trying to support the lie he's built up. Funny how you have to lie to look for the truth, he thought as they pass by the busy streets across the beach.

"Oh, so you're that kind of kid growing up. That's probably why you easily got along with our group last night." she laughed and suddenly fished her phone from her pocket.

Raising a finger, she gestured to Alex that she had to take the call. Alex automatically nodded and she excused herself just by the alley. He couldn't help but be cautious around her, as she told earlier she was the target's roommate and if ever she's a threat, she's also on his watch list. But for now she's all he's got to bring him close to Samantha.

An embarrassed grimace formed on her lips as she approached Alex. The agent raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Sorry, Alex. My boss needs me to go earlier than usual. I'll just lead you to our apartment and I'll let you wait for her on the stairs. You wouldn't miss her if you still know what she looks like, right?" she stepped forward, leading him the way. Alex nodded in agreement and gave a soft "Yeah." as they made their way across two more blocks.

A tall three storey building, walled with dark orange bricks, with three flights of stone steps as entrance greeted Alex as Maxine stops walking.

"This is where we stop. And this is where you wait." She pointed at the stairs leading to the apartment doors.

"She'll be here in a few minutes. She told me she wants to go home immediately after work before she left. Good luck on your meet up, Alex!" She waved goodbye almost in a hurry and left before Alex could even open his mouth.

"Guess I'm on my own now." he muttered and sighed as he sat down on thr topmost slab, just beside the door. He found himself tapping his foot nervously, as if he's really out to meet her. A lie he made that felt so real, even he almost believed they're really hometown friends.

At that exact moment, he saw a foot step on the bottom slab and he immediately trailed his blue eyes across the person. Her floral dress sways to the breeze as a man on a skateboard passes by her. Then their eyes locked for just a second, her hazel eyes now embedded in his memory as she quickly turns back and ran away.

"Hey! Wait!" Alex immediately bolted and followed her.

II - Samantha

[dcbbw]

For Riam, baby. And tell me something I don't already know. MWAH HA HA.

17. Share a sfw headcanon about one of your OTPs (optional: a specific pairing).

18. Share a nsfw headcanon about one of your OTPs (optional: a specific pairing).

Heeyy, @sirbeepsalot! Check below the cut, and be warned, there is some slight NSFW in there.

17. SFW

The King of Cordonia sat at his desk in the study he shared with his wife and Queen at their Valtorian estate. His fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard of the laptop as he logged into one of the Crown’s many bank accounts.

He smelled Riley before he felt or saw her, and a slight smile flitted across his lips as rose, vanilla, and jasmine wafted through the air. He swiveled the desk chair so he faced her. “Good morning, love,” he murmured before rising to help her across the room.

The Queen made a face when his lips kissed her cheek. “Cook hasn’t brought breakfast up yet?”

“I asked her to wait until you were awake. I know you like your breakfast foods hot,” Liam explained as he rubbed her belly. He grinned when he felt Fric and Frac respond enthusiastically to his touch.

“Thank you,” Riley said, leaning into Liam’s palm pressed against the small of her back as he led her to her favorite chair.

She settled into the colorful orange patchwork Barcalounger Liam had had installed, sitting quietly as her husband fluffed pillows behind her back before fetching her tablet, phone, and morning yogurt. Riley texted Gladys, her house’s majordomo with her meal request; her eyes lifted from the screen to see her husband studying the bank account numbers.

“What are you doing?” she questioned.

“Sending the Walkers their monthly payment.”

When Liam found out during preparations for the Beaumont-Walker wedding in Texas that none of the Walkers had received absolutely nothing regarding their promised stipends for the untimely death of Jackson Walker, the King had been devastated at his father’s actions or lack thereof.

Riley had not been.

Constantine was as big an asshole in death as he had been in life.

Despite the Walkers insisting that they were fine and it wasn’t Liam’s fault, the monarchs held a meeting with Rashad, Bertrand, and the Minister of Finance to discuss righting such a grievous error; after substantial, initial lump sum payments, Bianca and her children began receiving stipends on a monthly basis. Liam knew he could set up the disbursements to deposit automatically, but he felt it was more … personal when he transferred the money manually.

“Don’t forget to take my rent out before you pay them!” Riley reminded her husband.

“You neither live in nor own any property in Texas, Riley”

“And how would YOU know?”

“You also do not live at Ramsford.”

“I DID! ANNND I’m an honorary Beaumont. That estate belongs to me too!”

Liam’s fingers tapped away. “Unfortunately, you are NOT in their line of succession.”

“All I know is, I’d better have some rent money in my account. THIS MORNING! I mean, you are paying them so they can pay me, right?”

Liam rolled his eyes and shook his head as he transferred funds; he paused briefly to toss his wife a quick glance. He saw her playing on her tablet, face scrunched slightly in concentration as her eyes darted over the screen.

“Are you finished yet?” Riley asked. “I need a snack and for you to check on breakfast.”

Liam logged out of the banking website and pushed back his seat. “I am.”

He rose, and walked to a far wall where he pulled a bowl of peeled oranges from the mini-refrigerator. He took them to Riley, leaning over to snatch her lips in a kiss. The Queen eagerly took the bowl and ardently returned Liam’s kiss.

“Okay, get outta here. Bring back pancakes and bacon, with LOTS of butter and syrup!” The Queen demanded as she shoved pieces of citrus in her mouth.

When she heard the study door close behind Liam, Riley grabbed her tablet and logged into her personal banking account. Her eyes studied her balance before she made three funds transfers of $10,000 each, with the memo:

In honor of Jackson Walker’s service and sacrifice. Thank you.

18. NSFW

Riley hisses as the leather belt cracks against her skin; a red whelp instantly raises on her thigh. I watch the reaction on other parts of her body: the thinning of her plump lips, the hardening of her nipples. Her arms, raised above her head and handcuffed to the wall, quiver slightly.

Her eyes are hidden behind a blindfold, but I imagine them closed with her lashes fanned against her cheekbones.

God, she’s so beautiful. I hardly dare to believe she’s mine; or rather, I’m hers. Yes, it was my social season but make no mistake, she chose me; I was the one in competition for her heart and affections.

I pull her into an embrace, careful to stay away from the punished skin until I can rub aloe vera gel on it. My lips find the crook of her neck and I begin sucking and pulling on her flesh, gently at first but her moans and whimpers are fueling my lust for her.

I reach between her legs to push her thighs apart; her hips arch forward of their own volition, her center seeking my member. I take my cock in my hand, using the tip to tease the hood of her sex. She bites her lip before whispering my name. I smirk to myself as I release her hands, rubbing her wrists vigorously.

“Face the wall,” I say in her ear as I gently turn her around.

I wrap my arms around her waist and she relaxes her body, leaning into me. The pads of my thumbs flick and pinch her nipples while I place kisses along the nape of her neck. My knees bend as I squat to kiss along her spine; I reach the top of her buttocks. My hands fall from her breasts to palm her ass; my thumb is now pressing against her most secret of holes.

I feel her body stiffen and see her ass cheeks clench.

And I inwardly curse myself.

The trauma my wife suffered not a dozen years before scarred her both physically and psychologically. This area of her body is off-limits to everyone, even herself. And most certainly to me.

I remove the offending digit, and quickly stand, murmuring apologies. She lets out a shaky sigh.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes.

I hold her, telling her with my silence there is nothing for her to apologize for. I remove the blindfold. Her hands lift mine back to her breasts, and I again turn her so I may lavish her nipples and areolas. She sinks to the carpet under my ministrations and I soon follow. I pause to tend to her whelp, softly rubbing the gel into her skin.

“How does that feel?” I ask, my eyes searching hers.

She nods, a small smile on her face. My head drops between her legs and I kiss and lick the inside of her thighs. Her arousal tickles my nose, and I feel my manhood hardening even more. Her fingers fall into my hair, combing and twisting my hair between them. I wince as I feel the fingers fist and pull me by my hair away from her center.

I look up to see love, fear, and uncertainty play across her face.

“I love you,” she rasps.

“I love you more,” I respond with a trace of confusion in my tone.

“I trust you.”

I nod slowly, wondering where the conversation is headed.

“You can have me. All of me.”

And she rolls over onto her stomach.

#dcbbw #answers #writer’s asks #some nsfw

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Two Live Crew Job

leverage 2.07

Sophie: I love the symbolists.

- - - - -

🥰 I love when the ot3 are together in one frame 🥰

- - - - -

the dogs playing poker painting tho

- - - - -

Eliot: Any sudden movement's gonna cause displacement of the water. It'll set it off.

Parker: Is that C-4?

Sophie: Oh!

(Nate grabs Parker’s hand before she can touch the vase)

Sophie: Parker... please don't poke at the motion-sensitive bomb.

Nate: So, uh... secret admirer?

Sophie: Well, it's no secret they want me dead.

Hardison: What do you think, man?

Eliot: I'd have to reach into the vase to disarm it. It'd go off.

eliot’s lips quivered when he said that bc he’s so nervous for her im-

- - - - -

Parker: Do you have any instant pudding?

(everyone looks at Parker in surprise. Cut to Parker pouring pudding into the vase)

Parker: The powder hardens the liquid, tricks the bomb into thinking it's not moving.

Eliot: Should give you a little wiggle room. Very little

MASTERMIND PARKER

- - - - -

(mourners are gathered around a casket with a line of black cars parked nearby. An open casket shows Sophie lying inside. Eliot is standing at a podium)

Eliot: She had a way of taking care of people, you know? She was a sister... she was best friend, all rolled into one. I'm gonna miss you, Soph-- So-O-O-O-O much, Katherine.

(Eliot leaves the podium. Hardison stands to let Parker walk by and she approaches the podium. Nate stands at the back of the crowd, Eliot joins him)

Parker: Katherine and I have known each other forever. Almost two years. Yeah, I know that probably doesn't sound like a lot to you, but it is to me. I never really had many friends. Which is why losing her is so hard. (sighs) It's so creepy. I mean, she's really dead. I was just talking to her and now she's just laying there. She was just laying there.

(Nate coughs and Hardison gets up to go to Parker)

Parker: Can you hear me?

Hardison: Parker. I'm -- I'm sorry. I'm sorry, y'all. What – What she really means is just, um, Katherine was like family. And sometimes, friends are all the family that you have. So... you -- you good? Come on. Just – let -- just keep going. You got all hysterical and emotional

- - - - -

btw there is at least one door from behind the briefing monitors which means they have at least one extra room (most likely more) from the adjacent apartment eliot knocked the wall down from

they have guest rooms or something back there for if anyone needs a place to crash

- - - - -

Sophie: We used to work together. We did the Copenhagen job in '97, the Berlin Polytech job in '98, and, Nate, remember – Remember that great run in Moscow?

Nate: "That great run"? I chased you for three months.

Sophie: Well, uh, technically, y-you chased us. Sorry.

Hardison: Are you saying that you saw other teams before us?

Parker: Really just another Nate before Nate.

Eliot: Let me ask you a question -- what bugs you more, is it the fact that he was with Sophie first or that he outsmarted you?

Nate: Moving on

eliot puts his arms over the couch and behind parker and I’ll take it + them grinning at each other seeing nate’s discomfort

- - - - -

mikel is wearing flannel in this one and you can now take bisexual mikel from my cold, dead hands

- - - - -

Sophie: Wrong place, wrong time. Starke must have seen me, and now that I’m one of the good guys, decided to get rid of me, because...why? Because... Because I know his scams. Because... I know his favorite scam.

[Warehouse]

(Stark’s team is sitting on crates looking at monitors as he goes over the job)

Starke: Cafe and a moonlit terrace.

Sophie (voice over): The Mona Lisa variant.

[Briefing Area]

Parker: Oo! (claps) That was the first one I learned!

- - - - -

(Hardison is drinking orange soda and working on a computer as Sophie watches)

Sophie: I'm not dead. I'm right here, Parker. So, this is, um, it's what you do, right? You take footage of us on cons and you -- you -- you -- download it into that?

Hardison: Yeah, I analyze it, I monitor comms, I scan for a police frequencies, I -- You had no idea I do all this, did you? Well – d-does nobody respect the van? The van is important. What -- What is that?

Sophie: It's lemon-Zest tea. I got to tell you, it's -- It's a little bit -- It's a little bit whiffy in here.

Hardison: It smells like hard work. That's what it smells like. D-- Whiffy

sophie has no idea what hardison does and does not like the van smell. hardison is ready to go off

- - - - -

Sophie: That was some nice things you said at my funeral.

Hardison: Wait. We -- We trust Nate to make sure the plan works. We trust you to make sure we’re all okay.

- - - - -

Starke: Word is on the street that you run the nastiest crew this side of the Atlantic.

Nate: Well… what?

Starke: Come on. Everybody knows. You robbed a bank and you -- you framed a judge. You rigged a jury to steal a million-Dollar settlement. I hear that you even conned the Irish mob out of a couple of million dollars just this year. Now, that's style.

Nate: That's one way of looking at it.

Sophie: Listen, Nate, if you tell him the truth about us, we're blown

- - - - -

Hardison: I know this style. This is Chaos.

(computer screen flashes signal found. Hardison grabs his keyboard and heads for the back door of the van)

[Parking Lot]

(Hardison exits his van and a little ways down the parking lot, Chaos exits his van with a laptop in his hands. They square off like an old west gun fight)

Hardison: Chaos. I heard you were in jail. Guess I was wrong.

Chaos: Hardison. I heard you sucked. Guess I was right.

(they eye each other across the lot, their fingers twitching. Abruptly they raise their keyboard and laptop and begin typing while car alarms start going off)

this wild wild west showdown tho

- - - - -

Nate: Okay, now, we know Starke. This guy goes by the name Apollo. I've chased him a couple of times -- infiltration, physical security.

Parker: People in that line of high-risk work tend to be very unstable. We could use that. Write that down.

(the rest of the team exchange glances)

🥰 she’s sitting next to eliot with popcorn between them 🥰

- - - - -

Hardison: Now, this person here's ex-Mossad, sealed records. Mikel Dayan used to work both sides as a mercenary.

Eliot: Mikel Dayan. I know that name.

Hardison: You were scared to fight a girl.

Eliot: She'd mop the floor with you, Hardison.

Hardison: I don't care.

Eliot: Seriously. She actually killed a guy once with a mop. It's a funny story, actually. (starts gesturing time parker) She broke the mop and took --

Hardison: Eliot. Eliot. (turns back to monitors) Now, this here's Colin Mason, otherwise known by his hacker handle as "Chaos." As... whatever. Hacked the pentagon, the NSA. The CIA computer guys call him the Kobayashi Maru.

Eliot: What the hell is that?

Hardison: None of y'all got that? Seriously?

Parker: Star Trek.

Hardison: Thank you

parker’s reluctant fistbumb I love them + it’s officially canon that she’s seen at least some of the movies

- - - - -

Nate: I tried to say to her I’m sorry, you know, and I don't –

Security: Because, as men, we're taught to hide our emotions. You share or you pay the price.

Nate: Yeah

- - - - -

Mikel: You wouldn't hit a girl, would you?

(Eliot walks forward, taking off his jacket and hanging it on some pipe)

Eliot (in Hebrew): Not unless she hits me first.

(they approach each other and begin to fight, blocking each other until Mikel hits Eliot in the chest, knocking him back. He touches where her blow hit.)

Eliot (in Hebrew): That counts

let me just say I LOVE that they had a woman hitter

- - - - -

Starke: What is going on, guys?

Guard: Motion sensors went off, sir.

Starke: I already checked that out. Everything's secure. And who's this?

Guard: Uh... he just got lost. No problem.

Starke: Sir, you okay?

Nate: Yeah, I’m fine.

Starke: I'm Nathan Ford. I'm with the insurance company.

(Nate gives Starke an irritated look)

- - - - -

Parker: What kind of bird did you use?

Apollo: North American Kestrel. It's small-Bodied, but its wingspan is expansive enough that it sets off the motion detectors.

Parker: I would've gone with the Scarlet Tanager. Similar wingspan, but the brighter colors are more distracting.

Apollo: Yeah. That was my second choice.

(Apollo scrambles forward in the ductwork. Parker also scrambles forward, headed another way)

- - - - -

eliot taking off his shirt too? equal rights

- - - - -

Starke: Now, why would you want to kill Sophie?

Chaos: Come on, Starke. (gathering equipment) I had set up the perfect double-cross, and then you want to go and bring in a new player at the last minute? "Oh, and by the way, guys, that new player is gonna be Sophie Devereaux." There's no way I’m gonna try to out-con Sophie Devereaux! And I hate to break it to you, Starke, but she was the one that everybody was always scared of. It was never you.

- - - - -

[McRory’s Bar]

(Parker and Apollo sit at a table with locks)

Parker: Go.

(they begin picking locks to see who is fastest. Across the room, Eliot and Mikel sit at a table)

Mikel: I can top that. (pulls her shirt aside to show a scar on her shoulder) Frag grenade, Somalia.

Eliot (pulls up his sleeve to show scar on his arm): Myanmar. Sniper.

Mikel: I was a sniper in Myanmar for a while.

Eliot: When?

Mikel: 2003.

(Eliot looks surprised. Mikel holds up the handcuffs and Eliot quickly pulls her hand down)

Eliot: Oh, no, no, no, no, no. We can't have that.

Hardison (walking by): Handcuffs. Y'all nasty

(eliot has a handcuff kink and was probably pegged within an inch of his life that night. I said what I said.)

- - - - -

(Sophie stands looking down at her grave. The headstone for Katherine has been replaced with one for Sophie Devereaux. Nate approaches and stands next to the grave)

Sophie: Starke was right. I'm not Sophie Devereaux anymore. I haven't been for ages. I... you killed her, you and your silly crusade.

Nate: It's just a name.

Sophie: No, they're not just names, not to me. All my aliases, every one of them, I -- I know when their parents died. I know when they had their first kiss.

[vanchlo]

Under The Bed / Chapter One, “Josie”

ABOUT: Josie Stephens was having a hard enough time at her mere age of five, having to start Kindergarten and move to a new house. Little did she know that it all would get a lot worse that first night when a monster popped out from under her bed, changing her life forever. Inspired by the 1989 movie, Little Monsters, one of my childhood favorites, I began this story in 2016 and recently fell back in love with it.

->   SERIES MASTERLIST

->   MAIN MASTERLIST

-> READ ON WATTPAD

WARNINGS: None

WORD COUNT: 4k words

TAGLIST: IDK HOW TO DO THESE, BUT IF YOU WANNA BE ADDED SO YOU KNOW WHEN A NEW CHAPTER IS POSTED, JUST LET ME KNOW! :)

@berrynarrybanana​

@wotamelonsugar​

SNEAK PEEK OF COURSE -> 

“He remains quiet, and when his neon green irises dart away from me, I know that something is up. 

He may be a monster, but I can read him better than any human I know. His long pale fingers dotted with those blue freckles picks at a hole in my comforter, head bowed and two little mustard colored horns poking out from his mess of hair with one on the left, and one on the right.“

NOW

/

Leaves ranging every shade of red and orange blow around me and settle on the cracked sidewalk. They crunch under my scuffed and dirty high tops as I walk fast around the corner, waiting for my cream house to come into view. Cars and school buses whiz past me, and I hear a barking dog a few blocks away.

I take two steps at a time up the walkway and then on the stairs to the porch, the porch swing in front of the window swaying slightly in the wind. It suddenly stops as I approach, but I don't give it another thought as I pick up the heavy orange potted plant next to the door to find the plate it sits on. The plain silver key sits there catching the sun's light, where I left it yesterday, because my copy has been missing for months. I only wonder who could have done that. Grabbing it, I stick it into the door and give a twist before placing the key back under the pot, like any other day.

The house is silent and dark when I step inside. I flick on the light and the living room is awash in light as I toe off my shoes, warm sunlight pouring in from the open door until it slams shut suddenly. My head flies up and I look around quickly, taking a deep breath and after a minute, I decide it was just the wind. Dropping my heavy backpack at the end of the stairway around the corner, I walk through the living room and into the kitchen against the back of the house.

/

I push open my ajar bedroom door with my foot, leaving my backpack at the door. The sun peeks into my room from the left, coming in through the hastily pulled drapes above my desk. I choose my steps carefully amidst the mess of clothes flung haphazardly across the floor, and others falling out of the open duffle bag sitting by my desk. Falling onto my bed, I click on the TV and bring my crustless PB&J to my lips. Crumbs litter my lap and covers as I watch the rest of an episode of Bones, a rerun but a good one nonetheless.

After awhile with crumbs clinging to my shirt sleeves and sticky peanut butter fingers, I drag my feet over to my desk and get started on my homework. Music trickles from the bluetooth speaker sat at the corner of my desk. I scribble answers in the blanks on the worksheet, turning it over and groaning at all of the questions waiting for me on the back. Peeling my eyes away from the history worksheet, my eyes lift to the gently open blinds. There’s the sliver of outside visible through them, and what really catches my eye - the sun setting on the horizon. My heart does a jump at the sight of it, and I look over my shoulder before I can stop myself. I automatically look to my bed, and the emptiness and scuffed wooden floor underneath it.

With an impatient sigh, I back to my homework with a sullen face. Skipping the next song, I flip the page of my textbook and move on to the next question. I just want to get this shit done already. Who knew it could take so long to find the answers to questions about The Constitution. Yet, more than anything, I try to stay busy. After awhile and two Vampire Weekend albums later, I stuff every single textbook and mechanical pencil away in my backpack.

"Josie, did you hear me? Dinner's ready, come on!" Dad calls up the stairs to me, and I zip one last zipper before yelling 'coming!' and getting to my feet. Opening the door, I step a foot into the hallway and search for my bedroom light with a wandering hand. Something out of the corner of my eye moves, and I look around until I notice the comforter hanging over my bed flutters upwards again. I flick off the light and the room is sent into darkness, before I head downstairs.

/

Wiping the dot of fudge from my lip, I take my time walking up the stairs. The murmur of my parents voices melts together into a background noise as a soft darkness covers the staircase. When I look up to the top of the landing, something stands out from the dark, and my heart does a somersault. A bar of light peeks out from the bottom of my closed bedroom door, and I hear sounds trickling from my bedroom. When I set my foot down on the next stair, a long creeeeeak peels out and the noises cease. The light flickers off and it's silent once again. I lift my foot off the creaky step and walk up another stair, wanting to take them two at a time, but I don't. I try to slow down, no matter how fast I want to go right now, forgetting the fact that I want to run in there right now.

I push open the door slowly, hearing it's long creak before its little clunk when it hits the wall. My hand runs over the wall until I find the light switch and flip it upwards, bathing the room in light. My backpack still sits open by my desk. My laptop is open, but the screen is dark next to my dormant desk lamp. My bed is a mess of wrinkly covers, albeit a dip in my pillows where I sat earlier. Oddly enough, there's another dip at the head of my bed that pulls my eyebrows down into a question. It also yanks my lips up to pinch my cheeks with a smile.

A scuffle pricks my ears, and I look around, confused. First, to underneath my bed where it sounds like it had come from, but the sound is gone as quick as it had happened. My lips set into a frown as I turn and take another look, and when I'm facing my door a loud 'boo!' almost scares me off my feet. I jump back and feel myself start to fall, and luckily, my bed catches me.

"Ugh! You don't have to do that just because you're a monster!" I huff, sitting up and laying my eyes upon the giggling guy in front of me.

"Wha', why not? 's me favorite, it gets ya every time!" he squeals in excitement, and I have to hold myself back from rolling my eyes. That becomes the least of my worries when everything blurs and I'm pushed onto my back. "Hiiiiiiiya, goose! I thought it was you I heard on da stairs, but had t' make sure. Smelled ya when ya walked in, y’know. I knew it was you cuz ya smell like berries and cream," he says as he lies dead weight on top of me. I laugh and hear his silly one in return.

"You'd think you'd be lighter for being- you know, nonhuman, but you definitely aren't."

"Tha's no way t' greet me afta not seein’ eachuther for days. That was rude, goose. Think ya need t' be shown a lesson, you do,” he scoffs and I watch his lips fall into an exaggerrated pout.

"No no no, please don’t!"

"Oh, yes!" he laughs evilly, and I feel it start. It doesn't look like it, but he's strong. Dammit, is he. "Waitin' up here fer tha last half hour for you, thought I was two sweet seconds from gettin' caught fer tha first time in . . ever, and ya call me fat. Tsk tsk, think ya needa lesson taught t' ya," he says, clucking his tongue in the middle of my shrieks and laughs.

"NOOOOOO, WAIT! YOU’RE GONNA!" I shriek in between laughs and desperate pleas for him to stop. His long and quick fingers continue to poke and prod at my ribs, dancing along my stomach and wandering to my armpits, every now and then. Sweat builds on my brow as I flail and squirm, trying to kick him and hit him, but he's expecting that. He knows.

"Josie! What's going on up there?" the loud voice of my dad booms up the stairs, and his movements come to an abrupt stop. His crazy green irises framed by yellow tinged scleras grow wide and alert before darting around.

"Fuck, no. Not yer parents," he whispers fast, and in a blink, his weight from on top of me is gone. My lungs are spewing tiny thank you's, but when I look around, he's gone. There's that same scuffle again and my bed lifts to fall back down a second later.

The old bead necklaces around my door handle slide back and forth when the door opens. My dad's towering figure stands in the doorway and quickly, his hands fall onto his hips in a question while he looks around my room. "I heard yelling up here, what's going on? Are you okay?" the words fall from his thin lips fast, his brown eyes staring back at me while his frown is hard to see through his thick beard. I swing my legs over the bed and face him with a nervous gulp.

"I'm fine, Dad. I was just uh, watching something on TV and the volume was really loud.I'm sorry."

"Hmmm, I could've sworn . . . ," he begins but he waves his hand, his old gold watch falling down his hand along with his wedding ring catching the light. "You just um, try to keep it down up here, sound good?" he finishes with a little smile.

"Yeah, Dad, of course," I reply, and his gelled back ashy blonde hair moves as he nods. I feel a tug on the bottom of my jeans, and I reply with a kick of my foot.

"Okay, well . . ," my dad trails off with a shrug of his shoulders. He then forces an awkward smile before turning around to leave. There's a sharp pinch on my ankle and I wince before giving another kick, and hearing an 'ouch!' I cough quickly to cover it up, sighing when my dad doesn't turn around and walks down the stairs.

"You idiot!" I exclaim under my breath, jumping off my bed and hurrying across my room to close the door.

"How come 'm tha idiot here? I don' remember bein' tha one screamin' her bloody lungs out, now was I?" I scoff as the door meets the hinges and I turn to watch him sliding out from beneath my bed. His sickly pale hand the lightest shade of blue hangs onto the edge of my bed that’s propped up in the air.

He gets to his feet and it falls back to the floor slowly and without a sound, just like every other time. Only a scuffle. He just smirks, his yellow but perfect teeth showing behind his sly smile. My hair moves with my shaking head as I sit back down on the bed, his tall figure moving towards me out of the corner of my eye.

"I dunno why ya don' enjoy me tickles, they're fun. 'm good at it. Y’know 'm quite givin’, could be loads worse, Jose," he comments matter of factly. His  shoulder knocks against mine, and he pushes me over to make room to sit down next tome. I bump shoulders back, but he hardly moves. Figures. "Jus' be lucky ya don' have tha tickle monster under yer bed 'stead, love."

"Sureee," I say, falling back to lie on my bed. There's a little poof and the mattress bounces when he lands next to me.

"Rememba when ya first put up those stupid plastic stars. Thought ya were a bloody genius, you were," he smirks beside me, our elbows knocking against each others. I feel his right shoe nudge against my foot and I kick it off the bed. "Hell, babe! Wha's yer problemo t’night? Wha', ya not miss me, Jose?" My eyes remain on the ceiling, and on the chipped, peeling glow in the dark stars stuck there in an array of sizes and arrangement. Their opaque white color has turned a slight yellow during their age, but his hand pops right in front of my face to block my view of them. It goes back and forth, and finally, I catch it and push it away.

"C'mon, goose, talk t' me. Hate it when yer quiet, makes this no fun."

"That's just it, Harry!" I retort, sitting up and looking to my right to find him lying there on his side looking up at me, confused. His mussy brown curls are crazy once again and swept over his forehead. A few of his sky blue, oblong freckles that cover his body poke out from his fringe of dark hair.

"Wha's just it? 'm not one o’ them monsters who can read minds, Jose, not some jinn or those bloody bogus fortune tellers you lot put so much worth in," he mutters curtly, tsking quietly, thinking I can't hear it, but he's one of the loudest monsters I know. Possibly the only one, but still.

" . . You didn't come last night."

He remains quiet, and when his neon green irises dart away from me, I know that something is up. 

He may be a monster, but I can read him better than any human I know. His long pale fingers dotted with those blue freckles picks at a hole in my comforter, head bowed and two little mustard colored horns poking out from his mess of hair with one on the left, and one on the right. "I didn't think ya'd be home from yer gram's 'till like, this mornin', like ya said," he reveals with a heavy huff holding a hint of an animal-like sound to it, catching me off guard and tearing away any kind of response I had ready. "But, I popped in 'round quarter afta four, afta gettin' done at Ronny Snooker's house, and found ya all curled up like a toasty lil' burrito. Wanted t’ wake ya, trust me I did, but I knew I shouldn't cuz ya'd get all angry at me fer wakin' you an' I hate it when yer mad at me. Can' handle it."

". . I shouldn't even be talking then," I speak up, and his head of curls lifts, letting me find those magical eyes past those long-ass eyelashes. If every monster has eyelashes those long, I fricken swear.

"No, 's not yer fault, Jose. Jus' a teenie tiny misunderstandin’, 's all."

"I did miss you, though. I mean, I guess."

"Ha! I knew it, just had tha feelin’," Harry smirks, his ghostly lips spreading high and wide, and almost up to his eyes. Dark dimples fall into his chiseled cheeks as he whispers an 'aha!' and then, all of a sudden, his wiry stony arms are around me. "Ya miss me, ya miss me, now ya gotta kiss me!"

"I don't think that's how it goes," I get out in between the middle of tight hugs enclosed in his stiff arms, as his familiar musty smell comes over me. It’s like an old basement.

My favorite smell.

"Sure, it does. I know what 'm talkin' 'bout, gotta respect yer elder, goose," he insists, and when I look up at him, he's still grinning. Soon, it falls into a pensive line, and the nostrils of his big pointy nose flare. And sure enough, he sniffs me. "Wha's that I smell on ya?"

"What the hell, Harry?"

"Ya smell like . . Smell like peanut butter, love. Thought you lot ran out last week, like ya said," he says quickly, the words leaving his devilish lips at light speed.

Oh no.

His thick eyebrows hike up his forehead as he sniffs around me fervently, only making me giggle and giving me a tickle. "Oh, ya think 's so funny, do ya? Don' like it when ya tell me lies, goose, an' you know jus’ how much peanut butta 's me favorite. You silly goose, you." He raises a finger and wiggles it at me, giving me a glimpse of his short dirty nails.

"Okay, Okay, I'm sorry! Mom brought home some the other night, like a big tub from Costco. But, Harry, you can't eat it all this time!"

"An' why bloody not?" he replies, annoyed. His dark unruly eyebrows come together and down in a furrow.

"Because! I got blamed for it the last time, like you always seem to do!" 

"Dunno wha' yer talkin' 'bout. 'd never be such a big meanie an' blame sumthin' on ya like that," he smirks, and I push him off of me, getting up and walking over to the black dresser sat against the wall by my door. "What, 'm I s'posed t' do, Josie? Y’know I got this love for peanut butta I can' control."

"You can say that again," I mutter, opening one of the drawers of my dresser and rifling through my clothes

I hear him tsk tsk from behind me, and a squeak from the mattress follows in suit. When I glance over my shoulder at him, he's lying on the left side with his hands behind his head, getting all comfy. Rolling my eyes, I grab a t-shirt and pajama bottoms at random to change into for the night.

"But, I don't know, Harry. Don't they have peanut butter down there?"

"No, I’ve already told you this how many bloody times?! Ni's allergic or summat, tha bloody weirdo, so he neva let's me within like, a mile radius of it. He’s afraid 'm gonn' kill him or summat, even though tha's impossible. Dunno how he can be allergic t' sumthin' so bleedin' delicious. 's rubbish, 's what it 's," Harry says, shaking his head which I laugh at. His eyes drag over to me and he leers at me before shaking it again with his lips pressed into a disapproving line. "Talk it up, Jose. You try bein' a monster for a day."

"I would, if you'd let me," I say quietly. Walking across the room, I slip into my closet,shutting the door behind me.

"Don' even ge'mme started, you li’l shit. Ya think I dunno what yer gettin' at, d’ya?"

"Hey! Be nice to me, and what ever happened to trying not swearing around me? I thought you said it was 'unbecomin’ o’ me t’ swear ‘round you’ and all that," I yell through the door, turning my back as I slip off my clothes to change into the others sitting at my feet.

"Ya, that lasted 'til you were 'bout I dunno, ten, goosie. 's like me vocabulary, I can' help it. I mean, God, ya should hear Ly’ swear - he curses like a friggin' fairy. But, don't tell him that cuz he'd kick me in tha jewels if he heard me compare him t’ a fairy. I mean, ya wouldn' think they're capable o' cursin' - those fairies with that teeny tiny body o' theirs, but boy, oh boy. do they. ‘m quite envious of his swearin’, tho’, if I do say meself."

"I know, I remember. You taught me my first swear words, my parents were horrified when I said 'shit' for the first time. When was it again? Oh yeah, that day in fourth grade when I fell learning how to roller blade," I giggle in return, sliding on the pair of plaid pajama pants, tying the strings at the waist. "And, how would I tell Ly’ anyways when you won't let me meet him?"

"They should be lucky I didn' start ya sooner, but ya, one o' tha proudest moments o’ me damned life," he sighs happily as I walk out of the closet splaying my caramel blonde hair over my shoulders. I try to ignore that he dodged the second part of my sentence. Now, I'm rolling my eyes as I walk to the door and flick off the light, soon joining him and his fake crying on my bed.

Curling up under the covers, my bedside lamp lights his features as he stares up at the ceiling, thinking. Thinking about what, I don't know, but I'm curious. "What do monsters think about, Harry?"

"Y’know . . I rememba tha first time ya asked me that when ya were- what, five? Jus' came home from yer second or third week o’ school an' asked me it. Suddenly, yer in Kindiegarten and ya think yer such a hoot."

"Well, I don't remember what you said then, considering it was almost thirteen years ago, so please, do enlighten me," I joke, and the single dimple in the middle of each of his cheeks falls down when a smile bends his lips upwards. Who knew a monster could have dimples, or be so cute.

"Okie dokie, smartass, well 's not real different from you humans. Y’know, think 'bout food and things we wanna do," he answers me, turning his head and looking me in the eyes. Yellow smile falling and dimples slowly disappearing. He raises his eyebrows at me, only to wiggle them a second later, making me giggle.

He almost scoffs, biting his tongue as his head of curls goes from side to side. I murmur a dumbfounded 'what,’ earning me a shrug of his bony shoulders in return. "Dunno, missed yer laugh, I guess. Don' hear 'em often when yer not 'round. Well, not happy ones, that is," he tells me, giving me a cheesy smile showing no teeth. I sigh and move closer to him, my forehead just missing his shoulder by a centimeter. His calming musty smell walks up my nose, and I close my eyes with a happy smile.

"What did you do while I was gone?" 

"A whole lotta nothin'," Harry hums in reply, and I feel the hard tips of his fingers on my scalp stroking at my hair. "Jus' went 'round me business scarin' tha other kiddies in town. Ronny, Daisy, the redhead, and the new little tot on Willow Street. They're pretty easy, 'cept Ronny, he's such a li’l shit, ugh. Did I tell ya I took all tha air outta his bike tires, and drank his chocolate milk that was s'posed t' be for lunch tha next day?"

"No," I giggle, moving closer to him and finding his shoulder and the soft holey fabric of his pitch black t-shirt.

"Ah damn, it was a hoot. Wish I coulda been there tha next mornin' t' see his face. Tha li’l devil deserved it, he gave me a right bruise on me shin kickin' me when I popped in tha other night," he huffs, making a funny sound with his lips. “That kid can't grow up soon enough. Hell, 'm almost tempted t; make it seem like 'm a ghost hauntin’ their house, so they'd move tha fook out an' I don' hafta deal with him anymo'."

A chuckle falls from my lips as my eyes remain closed and I breathe in his smell. Oh, how I missed you. "Ya fallin' 'sleep on me already, Jose? 's hardly nine o'clock, 'm disappointed in you."

"I'm tired, and I have school tomorrow," I whine, hiking the covers up my shoulders with a groan when they don't come easily. The bed moves and the comforter goes up smoothly, making me open my eyes to find his nimble, pale hands draping it over me. He gives me a smile before lying back down and replacing his hand in my hair, going back to lulling me to sleep playing with it.

"Oh ya, yer a big ol' senior now, hmph," he clucks, ending it with a final sigh. "Fine, I guess ya can go t' bed. But, we gotta catch up one o' these nights 'bout yer trip t’ yer gram's. Ya betta have saved me some o' her butterscotch cookies, or 'm not gonna be too happy with you, goosie. And, I was searchin' real hard for where I hid yer house key, almost thought 'd found it, but I dunno." I hum a sleepy 'okay' as I close my eyes again, grunting in frustration as I try to find his shoulder again. His lovely giggle touches my ears and I find him not long after with a huff.

"Funny li’l thing, you are. Now go t' bed, ya sleepy bones. An' try not t' snore, will ya? I mean, 's awfully cute, but it interrupts me readin'. Gotta see what you lot are readin' this year an' catch up t' ya," he jests, and I shove him with a small groan.

His squeaky laugh leaves his devilish lips, hanging there for a small second. "Alrighty then, go t’ sleep, you. Have tha sweetest o' dreams, goose. Oh, and don' let tha beddy bugs bite."

[patchwork-panda]

If A Moment Is All We Are (18/?)

AO3 link: HERE

6:50 am

I snapped my phone shut and continued to wait.

Ten minutes early. Good.

I wasn’t working with Kunikida but he would definitely approve of my coming early if he were here. I’d tried calling Dazai as soon as I arrived but, predictably, he hadn’t picked up. He was probably still on his way or decided the water looked really nice this morning and jumped into the river (Atsushi had warned me via text last night that Dazai had done at least this three times already), in which case, I’d have to go find him. But I could worry about that later. Since I was here a little early...

Scanning my surroundings, I grinned and switched my phone to camera mode.

Surprisingly, this was the first time one of my jobs had taken me to Minato Mirai, the most famous district in Yokohama; so far, the closest I’d been to this place since joining the Agency was when Yosano had dragged me to Motomachi shopping district for my makeover—which was still several stops away. I shifted my bag over my shoulder and started snapping photos, not caring that I looked like an excitable tourist.

I hadn’t been to Minato Mirai in years and it was such a beautiful day. The skies overhead were a beautiful pastel-blue, with not a cloud to be seen and faint hints of purple and orange visible on the distant horizon. The ocean, or what I could see of it from here, anyway, was a deep sparkling sapphire blue. Even the tops of the gray and white buildings were still dyed in subtle shades of pink and gold from the remnants of dawn, like an image from a painting.

I should’ve woken up even earlier; then I could’ve run down to the pier for even more photos. If I got some good shots, maybe I could use them as reference images—or background images for my laptop or phone. Maybe I could even send a few to Kunikida! I’m sure he would appreciate some beautiful images of a beautiful morning!

Warmth bloomed in my chest at the thought of surprising Kunikida with a nice good morning text, complete with a freshly shot photo nice enough to put on a postcard.

I sighed.

He worked really hard, Kunikida... I forgot who, but someone at the Agency had told me he spent his mornings meditating. He was always so focused, so dedicated... I hoped he was able to take some time to relax here and there. I checked the time again.

6:55 am.

Still early. He was probably still meditating right now (and I didn’t want to interrupt) so I set a reminder for myself to send him the text around eight, when he got into the office. A nice greeting so he could get a great start to a hopefully great day.

I smiled and kept shooting.

As my camera slowly focused on a distant landmark, the familiar shape of an enormous Ferris Wheel appeared on my screen: one of Yokohama’s most iconic attractions, Cosmo Clock 21. I paused to stare at it. I’d gone for a ride on the Cosmo Clock once with some classmates, back when I’d first moved to Yokohama. Although we’d had a pretty good time, I’d always wanted to go back, preferably on a date, and not just any date... a date with someone special, at night, when we could rise above the lights of the city and find ourselves sitting amongst the stars...

If only that someone special could be Kunikida Doppo...

“Ku-su-no-ki-kuuuuun!!”

I sighed as the image of the Ferris wheel was blocked from view by a pair of twinkling brown eyes.

Dazai.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?”

“Good morning, Dazai-san,” I answered in greeting, putting away my phone without taking the picture (it was too far away anyway). Staring up at him, I crossed my arms.

“You’re late.”

“Oh! Were you looking at the Cosmo Clock?” Dazai asked, moving to stand next to me, not even bothering to respond to my accusation.

He shielded his eyes with one hand and stared out into the distance at the tall metal structure.

“It’s definitely a sight to see at night when it’s all lit up and colorful but it’s pretty nice in the morning too...”

His brown eyes flicked down to meet mine and he smiled softly.

“A great place for a date, don’t you think?”

I glanced up at him. Standing next to him in the middle of the sidewalk on a beautiful day like this, I couldn’t help being reminded of the moment we’d first met. He gave off a different vibe in the early morning light, with the soft ocean breeze tugging at his messy brown locks and his irises glowing a rich, warm amber as he held my gaze.

Why was a man like Dazai Osamu blessed with such a beautiful face?

When he smiled at me like that, it was almost enough to make me forget all the teasing and practical jokes...

Almost...

“Yeah,” Dazai murmured, more to himself than to me as he returned his attention to the Ferris wheel. As if on cue, he continued, “Cosmo Clock 21 seems like a great place to commit suicide. I bet if I threw myself out of the top car, I would die the instant my body hit the pavement.”

I grimaced. I could all too easily picture an overly excitable Dazai opening the control panel inside his car, finding some way to override the safety protocols and swan-diving out of his car the instant he got to the top of the wheel.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t off yourself this morning,” I said, covertly looking him up and down.

Good. It didn’t look like he’d gone for a swim in the river this morning. His clothes were dry and his entire ensemble looked like it had been recently cleaned. Our fancy downtown client should be pleased...

“If you had, you would’ve made my life a lot more difficult,” I sighed.

Dazai’s eyes widened.

“Kusunoki-kun...!” he whispered.

At once, he gathered my hands in his.

“I didn’t know you cared!” he whispered, his eyes sparkling joyfully as they stared into mine. “If you’d like, I’d be more than happy to take you to the Ferris wheel, maybe even accompany you to the afterlife—”

“That’s not what I was talking about,” I said casually, snatching my hands away with barely a hint of a blush. “What I meant to say was that I don’t know anything about this case we’ve been assigned to. I was just told to come here and meet you at seven in the morning, speaking of which...”

I flicked out my phone and shoved it in his face.

“You’re ten minutes late! You better have a good excuse for this because it’s going in the report. When Kunikida-san—no, President Fukuzawa reads it—”

“But Kusunoki-kun,” Dazai said, sounding surprised, “I was here early! In fact, I got here before you did and decided to make a convenience store run. See? I even got you coffee!”

He started rummaging through a small plastic bag that I hadn’t noticed he was carrying and pulled out a small canned latte. I was taken aback.

“Huh?” was all I could say as Dazai put the cold drink in my hands.

“What am I supposed to do with you, Kusunoki-kun?” Dazai sighed, shaking his head. “Here I am, trying to be a good mentor by making sure you got up in time for your next big case but what happens when I call you? Every single one of my well-meaning wake-up calls went straight to voicemail! I bet you didn’t even check your inbox this morning when you woke up.”

He was right. I hadn’t. As he spied the guilty look on my face, Dazai crossed his bandaged arms and pouted.

“And to think,” he said sullenly, “the first thing my kohai says to me when I come back, after waiting such a long time in those long morning lines is ‘you’re late?’”

He shook his head again and out of guilt, I dropped my gaze, only to stare right at the cold beverage in my hands. At once, the sense of guilt mutated into shame.

“I... I’m sorry,” I mumbled, bowing my head slightly. “It’s just... after the exam...”

Dazai gasped.

“Wait a minute... Are you blocking my calls?”

“Not exactly...”

Truth was, I’d actually put my phone into airplane mode last night after finishing up my texts with Atsushi because I didn’t want to receive any annoying late-night texts from Dazai or get pranked first thing in the morning again. Thanks to that, I’d gotten a full night’s rest (and before a Dazai case, no less!) but at what cost...?

“Airplane mode, huh?” Dazai pieced together and I winced. “That’s cold, Kusunoki-kun. Do you dislike me that much?”

“I said I was sorry!” I protested as he shook his head again, “And the first thing I said to you when you showed up was ‘good morning,’ not just ‘you’re late!’ And I really did mean it when I said I was glad you didn’t off yourself—Dazai-san, I—!”

I felt the words catching in my throat but I needed to get them out.

I couldn’t let Dazai think I hated him.

I squeezed my eyes shut, my hands balling into fists and I spoke in a rush:

“I don’t dislike you at all—! In fact, I—”

But before I could finish, something warm descended on the top of my head and when I looked up, I realized it was Dazai’s hand.

“I know,” he chuckled, ruffling my hair. “I was just messing with you. Don’t worry about it.”

He smiled. He was looking right at me but there was something wistful and faraway in his expression; I couldn’t place it.

“I know you don’t hate me,” he said quietly, still smiling that odd smile. “I just wanted my cute kohai to think better of me, is all.”

He folded up the convenience store bag and stuffed it into his coat.

“Let’s just go see the client, alright?”

“Dazai-san...”

Did it bother him that much that I didn’t pick up his calls? Was I being too harsh on him...?

As I watched him walk away, the tails of his trench coat flapping in the morning breeze, I slowly lifted my fingers to my lips.

And what was I about to say just before he stopped me?

Feeling oddly flustered, I directed my attention back to the can in my hands. It was still cold and my mouth felt oddly dry after that whole exchange. Not wanting to think about it any further, I pulled on the tab, opening the can of coffee with a sharp pop—and something big, black and hairy shot out of the can.

I screamed and dropped the can. As I stood there in the middle of the street, clutching my heart and panting like a dog, I heard a snort and looked up just in time to see Dazai burst into laughter.

“That was amazing!” he choked, clutching his stomach, “Absolutely priceless! I should take a photo of your face, this belongs in a museum—”

“What the hell?!” I screeched, flushing in anger as Dazai doubled over, howling with laughter as suit-wearing morning commuters and tourists alike stopped to stare at us.

“Well,” Dazai chortled, barely stifling his laughter behind his bandaged hands, “I could have gotten you a real coffee but then I thought, what kind of senpai would I be if I didn’t give you a real wake-up call?”

He dissolved into laughter once again and, bristling with rage, I snatched the can off the ground and lifted it to my face. It was one of those spring toys in a can, disguised to look like real food and designed to scare the living daylights out of whoever was foolish enough to open it. The hairy black thing I’d seen was nothing more than a plush spider toy with googly eyes and pipe-cleaner legs, bouncing about from the open end of the can. And as Dazai’s laughter echoed in my ears, one corner of the label peeled off; he had taken the label off a real can of coffee and stuck it to the outside of this toy. Which left only one question.

“Why is this thing cold?!” I roared, hurling the can at Dazai’s face as his laughter finally subsided.

“Oho, very observant, Kusunoki-kun!” Dazai cried, easily dodging my attack. “I knew I’d have to go above and beyond to fool you, so I stuck this can in the ice cream freezer at the convenience store before bringing it over!”

“You what?!”

“Oh, don’t glare at me like that,” Dazai waved me off, “Think of it as a compliment that I’d go to such lengths to trick you. But enough about that. We’re late and we really shouldn’t keep the client waiting. Wouldn’t be good for the Agency’s reputation, you know? Come on!”

Glowering and cursing under my breath, I hiked my bag higher over my shoulder and swore never to accept any presents from Dazai in the future, no matter how small or insignificant.

***

“Kusunoki-kun...”

Dazai sounded pretty dejected but I refused to look at him. I would not be fooled by those big brown puppy-dog eyes twice in the same morning.

“I get that you’re mad but you don’t have to stand that far away from me...”

“I’m not standing far away from you at all,” I replied coolly. “In fact, if I could, I’d actually be standing much further away but unfortunately, there’s not that much room in this elevator...”

“And you say you’re not cold,” Dazai mumbled.

I could actually hear the pout in his voice but I just rolled my eyes and ignored him.

After that stunt he pulled with the fake coffee, I was half-seriously considering returning to the Agency and asking to be reassigned. But then I realized that if I went back, I might run into Kunikida and be forced to admit (to my crush) that I couldn’t handle being on a case with Dazai for even an hour... And I’d rather throw myself off the top of the Ferris wheel than face Kunikida’s disappointment. So I settled for refusing to talk to Dazai as much as I possibly could, even as I followed him into the maze of buildings and crosswalks downtown with no idea of our destination.

Unfortunately for me, Dazai looked so happy about the results of his prank that he didn’t seem to mind that I was barely speaking to him. Every once in a while, he’d look over his shoulder to check that I was still following along and shoot me a cheerful grin every time he did. He kept this up until we stopped before a tall, strikingly rectangular building bearing the name “Tanaka Investments” in glossy white lettering. Like the other buildings downtown, the structure seemed to be made entirely of black and gray tinted glass instead of metal but I only had a few seconds to peer up at it before the crowd of morning commuters pushed us forward and into the building.

Together, Dazai and I streamed in through the main entrance, along with a gaggle of the building’s employees, heading, it seemed, towards the elevators in the back. As we got in, I noticed Dazai getting an occasional odd look at the bandages around his neck and arms but other than that, the workers seemed to pay us no mind; overall, they seemed pretty busy with their phones and schedules. When the girl nearest the elevator buttons happened to glance his way, Dazai instantly brightened up.

“Top floor, please,” he said, smiling pleasantly and the girl instantly blushed and hurried to push the button he’d requested.

Rolling my eyes, I quietly navigated my way towards the back of the elevator, purposefully turning the other way when I noticed Dazai looking for me. If he asked, I’d tell him I was doing this out of courtesy and that I was just trying to stay out of the way of the other building employees. However, the truth was, I was hoping to put as much distance between me and Dazai as possible and I made no move to hide the tiny smile that popped up on my face as more and more people packed into the elevator between us.

But as we climbed higher and higher through the building, the crowd began to thin and eventually the number of people standing between me and Dazai slowly dwindled to zero. That’s when he started trying to get my attention again...

“Come on, Kusunoki-kun,” Dazai wheedled, “If you’re not going to look at me, you could at least move a little closer so I don’t have to shout for you to hear me. I still need to tell you about the client.”

“I can hear you just fine from over here,” I stated flatly, staring resolutely at the numbers above the door as the elevator continued to rise.

“Come on, please?”

I didn’t budge.

“Please? Pretty please, pretty lady?”

Crossing my arms, I scowled. This was nothing like the time I’d taken the tiny elevator up to the Agency office with Kunikida... Nothing at all...

What I wouldn’t give to be in here with Kunikida instead... He wouldn’t whine and pester me like this. And he wouldn’t have pranked me this morning either. I closed my eyes and let a small, happy smile cross my face.

Hmm... then again, if it was Kunikida, I wouldn’t mind getting a little closer...

“Alright then,” Dazai sighed, finally realizing I wasn’t going to move at all. “If you won’t come to me...”

I heard a series of soft, echoing clicks from Dazai’s dress shoes as he slowly approached me from the opposite corner of the elevator.

“Then I’ll just have to come to you.”

His voice was low, sultry... just like it was yesterday afternoon, when he’d backed me up against the locked conference room door and whispered softly into my ear...

“...I’d like you to do something for me.”

I could still feel the warmth of his breath against my cheek, see the softly heated look in his deep brown eyes... His lips parted smoothly into that relaxed, easy smile...

“Come away with me...”

It was so cold the night he walked me home. The brightness of his smile had not been enough to obscure the shadows in his eyes...

Forever.

I came to with a sharp gasp, abruptly realizing that Dazai was about two seconds away from trapping me against a wall the way he’d done twice already. In a flustered panic, I uprooted my feet and tried to make a break for it—

—only to crash right into Dazai.

“Kusunoki-kun!”

His eyebrows shot up into his hair as I bounced off of him with a painful smack and his smirk widened into an ecstatic grin.

“Were you looking for a hug?” he asked, opening his arms wide. “I’d love one!”

“Oh, shut up,” I groaned, rubbing my nose where it’d collided with his chest. “Just tell me about the client already.”

Dazai wilted.

“You sure you don’t want a hug?”

“I’m sure. Case briefing, please?”

Dazai sighed heavily. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shot me a disappointed look.

“Yosano-sensei was right...” he mumbled, kicking an invisible pebble on the floor. “If you spend too much time with Kunikiiiiiida-kun, you really will turn into a four-eyed workhorse too.”

“Will you stop insulting Kunikida-san and just tell me about the client?! We’re almost at the top floor and I still don’t know who we’re meeting with!”

As if on cue, the elevator suddenly stopped moving. Thinking we’d arrived at the top floor, I looked up at the display above the door, only to see that we were still ten stories away. I turned to Dazai but he just yawned widely and stretched his bandaged arms high above his head as a sound like a buzzer sounded throughout our hollow metal chamber. There was a quiet cough and then a voice crackled to life over an unseen speaker.

“Identification, please.”

“We’re from the Armed Detective Agency,” Dazai said before I could answer. “We were asked to meet with a client on the top floor this morning.”

There was a pause and then the voice spoke again, more irritated this time.

“You’re late.”

I heard another loud buzz and with the tiniest of tremors, the elevator started moving again. I stared at Dazai.

“Who... are we meeting with...?”

He shot me a grin.

“The company president,” he answered, tucking his hands back into his pockets. “Tanaka Ichiro.”

There was a soft chime and as I turned just in time to see the elevator doors sliding open with a faint whoosh. I peered out beyond the doors into what appeared to be a very bright light and I raised my hands up to shield my eyes. When my eyes had settled, I realized I was staring into an enormous, empty lobby, one with very high walls and very pale coloring.

Silently, I followed Dazai out of the elevator and into the monochrome chamber, the heels of our shoes making sharp, echoing clicks against the hard, shiny surface of what seemed to be a faux-white-marble floor. All around us were large, rectangular tinted windows, each as high as the ceiling itself, where a modern-looking geometric chandelier, if you could call it that, hung in the very center of the room.

Below it, was a single desk, made of the exact same material as the floor, and it was so seamlessly integrated with the surroundings that I wouldn’t have been surprised if they were all carved from a single stone. Everything was spotless and polished to a shine and I looked out the windows to see sweeping views of the ocean and Mirato Mirai on one side and the rest of downtown Yokohama on the other.

Standing behind the desk was a very cross-looking man in a gray suit and tie with slicked-back black hair and thin rectangular glasses perched on his long, thin nose; with his narrowed eyes and set, square jaw, he looked especially forbidding where Kunikida merely looked strict. I decided to hang back a little as Dazai approached the desk.

“Morning,” Dazai greeted, with a casual wave of his half-bandaged hand. “You’re the gatekeeper?”

“My name is Shimada,” the man replied, his lips barely moving as he spoke, “President Tanaka’s personal bodyguard.”

One of his thick black eyebrows rose higher on his forehead and he shifted a little,   his hand going to his belt as he studied Dazai and then me. His expression soured slightly.

“You’re... the detectives?”

If Dazai was insulted at his tone, he didn’t show it. While I discreetly examined my outfit for any sign of dirt, Dazai grinned broadly at him and stepped forward.

“That’s right.”

He draped the crook of his bandaged elbow over the top of the desk and as he leaned his weight on it, Shimada’s jaw tightened visibly.

“We’re the detectives,” Dazai said smoothly, “Sorry we’re late.”

“The President is a busy man,” Shimada said icily. “He cannot afford to be kept waiting. Time is money, you know.”

“Of course,” Dazai chirped, deliberately rubbing his dingy-looking bandages against the countertop and for a brief moment, I actually felt sorry for Shimada.

That moment ended when I saw Shimada reach inside his desk and before I knew what was happening, he whipped out a thick black rod and swung it towards Dazai’s head.

“Dazai!!”

I rushed forward, intent on pushing Dazai out of harm’s way but the tell-tale crack of metal against skull never came. The rod came to an abrupt stop just a centimeter away from Dazai’s temple, barely ruffling the hairs on his head and as I looked on in shock, I saw Dazai’s grin widen.

He hadn’t moved at all...!

“I see the reputation of the Armed Detective Agency is well-earned,” Shimada muttered under his breath.

He moved the rod away and as he did so, I realized that I wasn’t looking at an actual weapon but at a handheld metal detector. Still wearing that shit-eating grin, Dazai stood up straight and put out his arms as Shimada came out from behind the desk and began scanning him. When he was satisfied that Dazai was carrying no weapons, Shimada nodded and went back to his desk.

“You will show President Tanaka your utmost respect while you are talking to him,” Shimada said, putting away the detector. “See to it that you don’t waste his time.”

Keeping his right hand against his belt, Shimada pushed a button from somewhere inside his desk and the closed black-paneled doors behind him opened at last.

“Thanks,” Dazai chirped.

He patted Shimada on the shoulder as he passed by and I saw the man flinch.

Taking a deep breath, I hiked my bag a little higher over my shoulder and stepped forward, preparing to be scanned as well. But to my surprise, Shimada barely gave me a second glance before putting down his metal detector and gestured for me to step through the doors as well.

“You’re not going to scan me?” I asked, confused.

Shimada shook his head.

“I don’t need to.”

“W-why not?” I asked, my grip tightening on my bag.

I don’t like his tone...

“Because,” Shimada stated simply, “you’re not a threat.”

I bristled.

“How do you know I’m not carrying a weapon?”

Shimada’s lip curled unpleasantly.

“Because if you were,” he said, a nasty sneer blooming on his face, “You would’ve used it on me to save your partner. Now are you going in or not?”

“I—”

“Kusunoki-kun.”

A weight settled around my shoulder and I looked up to see that Dazai had thrown his arm around me. He pulled me in close, effectively tugging me away from the sneering Shimada and guided me towards the doors.

“You heard the man,” Dazai said, his voice sounding right next to my ear, “We’ve got a client to see.”

And as he led me away, I glanced back at Shimada, only to see that the man had a gun in his hand.

My eyes widened.

“D-Dazai-san—” I whispered, looking up at him in alarm.

But Dazai merely smiled and put his finger to his lips.

“I’ll explain later,” his expression seemed to say.

Swallowing, I nodded and shot another furtive look over my shoulder at Shimada, who was now scrubbing at the counter top with a wet wipe, where Dazai had leaned against it and smudged its pristine, white surface.

The black paneled doors closed behind us and we found ourselves in a much smaller room, one that so resembled a normal office that it made the outside lobby and the whole thing with the elevator seem even stranger by contrast. The walls were lined with bookshelves full of thick binders and leather-bound books and there was a polished wooden desk in the middle of the room, under which was an exquisitely patterned Persian rug. Sitting at this desk with his hands folded in front of him was a rather cheerful-looking man in his mid-thirties. There was a streak of white in his otherwise brown hair and as we approached the desk, he stood to greet us.

“You must be the detectives,” he said, spreading his arms. “Welcome, welcome. I am Tanaka Ichiro, the president of this fine establishment. Please, have a seat. Make yourselves comfortable.”

As he moved out a little from behind the desk, I thought I saw something in the trash can nearby, something with black feathers...

I heard my own sharp intake of breath when I realized it was a dead bird and upon hearing me, Tanaka’s smile widened; he pulled the trash can out of sight and quickly sat back down.

“May I offer you some refreshment?” Tanaka asked, “Hot tea, perhaps?”

“N-no thanks,” I mumbled, still wondering about the dead bird.

“Then I could turn up the heat,” Tanaka offered, “if you’re cold.”

“Huh? It’s not...”

I trailed off as Dazai tightened his grip around me to give me a brief around the shoulders hug.

Oh.

Dazai took his arm off of me before I could throw it off for him and bowed politely, forcing me to follow suit.

“Dazai Osamu and Kusunoki Kyou of the Armed Detective Agency at your service,” he said smoothly, suddenly sounding just as professional as Kunikida. “What can we do for you?”

Tanaka pointed to the two chairs on our side of the desk and Dazai and I sat.

“I do believe we are short on time,” Tanaka said, as I shot Dazai a nasty look, “so I’ll get right to the point. Over the last few months, we’ve seen a series of thefts take place at the company but the thief has only stolen money from a single account. Unfortunately, it is a rather important account—one we use to pay our yearly business expenses.”

He took out a plain manila folder from his desk and slid it towards us. Dazai took it but opened it up in a way that I’d have to scoot towards him to read it. Struggling not to roll my eyes, I pushed my chair towards his.

“That first page will show you screenshots of the account in question, month to month,” Tanaka continued. “As you can see, it’s no small amount that was taken.”

My eyes widened.

Holy shit. There had been enough here to cover my yearly rent ten times over. What sort of business expenses would cost so much?!

“It’s been drained,” Dazai said, flipping the page. “Several times. You didn’t increase security around the account the first time it happened?”

“We did,” Tanaka admitted, “but the thief somehow got around the changes every single time. We can’t change the account for reasons I won’t go into but it’s baffling to say the least.”

“Thief...” I said slowly, glancing up at Tanaka. “Why do you say ‘thief,’ as if you’re certain it’s one person? Did you already have someone in mind?”

Tanaka rubbed his chin. He looked pleased.

“Very good. We do, actually,” he said. “Turn to the third page.”

I flipped through the file to see a picture of an older man, somewhere around Mrs. Yamazaki’s age, if I had to guess. He wore a pair of large, clunky square glasses, making his already dark, tiny eyes appear even darker and tinier and beneath his slightly hooked nose he had a bushy mustache and beard with streaks of gray. In all honesty, he looked a little like a Japanese Santa Claus.

I squinted at it.

Tsushima looked vaguely familiar, although at the moment, I couldn’t quite place where I’d seen him. Had I passed him in the street before?

“That is Tsushima Shuji, one of our best and highest ranking accountants. He had access to every account in this investment company, including our most secretive business dealings and he disappeared about a month ago without a trace.” “Right when the last theft took place,” Dazai said.

“Correct,” Tanaka replied. “We think he had something to do with it but we haven’t been able to find him. We ran our own internal investigations, of course, but so far it’s turned up nothing. Normally, at this point in time, we’d be asking the Yokohama Police Department to investigate but the situation is rather delicate.”

“I see,” Dazai mumbled. “So you want us to find this Tsushima Shuji.”

“And recover the money.”

Tanaka steepled his fingers together and looked at us.

“We are a highly successful investment firm but we do still have debts to pay. And they must be paid very, very soon if this company is to survive...”

“It’s almost the first of next month,” I pieced together aloud, flipping through the printouts. “You want us to solve this case before the account can be drained again.”

“Exactly.”

Tanaka looked down at his wrist, where a clunky gold watch gleamed alongside his cufflinks.

“Forgive me for my rudeness, but we are out of time. I cannot, unfortunately, provide anything more for you than these printouts due to the security issues around the account and the employee files. But I think this should be enough to start with. If you need more, please, don’t hesitate to give myself or Shimada-san a call.”

“Of course.”

I swept the folder full of files into my messenger bag and stood to take the pair of business cards from Tanaka.

As I reached up to pinch the cards between my fingers, taking care to avoid touching any part of Tanaka’s skin, his shrewd brown eyes swept over me.

“Kusunoki-san, was it?” he asked, as I half-nodded, half-bowed. “I don’t think I’ve heard your name before. Are you new to the Armed Detective Agency?”

“Somewhat,” I mumbled, avoiding his probing gaze.

I didn’t feel like answering any further but Tanaka wasn’t finished with me yet.

“I see,” Tanaka continued, peering more closely at me.

He looked like he was trying to figure out if he’d seen me before but to the best of my recollection, this was my first time meeting him. His smile held no warmth.

“Have you been enjoying your time with the Agency so far?”

I honestly wasn’t sure how to answer that and I really didn’t like the way he was looking at me. But before I could speak, I felt Dazai put his hand on my shoulder.

“Kusunoki-kun is our valued colleague,” the bandaged detective said, directing his full attention towards Tanaka. “We’re really lucky to have her.”

Dazai smiled and without meaning to, I flinched. This wasn’t the usual, cheerful smile I’d gotten used to seeing from Dazai. No. The look in his eyes was cold and calculating and his smile seemed to function more as a warning than a gesture of good will. I forced myself to keep still as Dazai turned those frigid brown eyes on me.

“We should get going,” Dazai said gently, the warmth in his expression returning the instant his eyes met mine.

I nodded.

“Tanaka-san, we’ll check in with you in a few days?”

“Please do,” Tanaka replied.

Polite bows were exchanged once again and Dazai and I turned around to leave. Dazai’s large, half-bandaged hand remained on my shoulder and I could still feel Tanaka’s eyes on me as we departed. However, after seeing the look on Dazai’s face as he’d stared Tanaka down, I couldn’t tell if the weight of the man’s hand on my shoulder was comforting or not. I found myself unable to move any closer to him.

Dazai didn’t drop his hand until we were well out into the lobby, but just after he did, Tanaka called out to us once again.

“Oh and Dazai-san? Kusunoki-san?”

We turned and Tanaka’s smile widened.

“Best of luck,” he said as those black-paneled doors came to a close.

***

“This could get dangerous for you, Kusunoki-kun,” Dazai said as we exited the building.

“How so?”

In the seemingly short time we’d spent in Tanaka’s office, the sun had climbed a little higher in the sky, warming the downtown zone by that much more. I found myself wishing Dazai had actually brought me an iced coffee instead of a joke toy this morning and was about to shrug off my light coat when I noticed Dazai was watching me. I kept the coat on as we walked down the street.

“Is this about Tanaka-san?” I asked.

Or the way he’d looked at me?

“Not quite.”

Dazai paused to study me.

“Let me ask you... What do you think that account was used for? The ‘business expense account.’ It’s a lot of money, don’t you think?”

I shrugged. I was avoiding his gaze and I knew that Dazai could tell but if it bothered him, he didn’t let it show.

“Tanaka said it was for business expenditures, didn’t he?” I answered, hiking the strap of my bag a little higher over my shoulder as it slipped. “I can’t say I know much about investment firms but I wouldn’t be surprised if these were for another company they’re working with.”

I paused.

“Why do you ask? Do you think this account’s being used for something else?”

“Sort of.”

We paused at the crosswalk as the light turned red and Dazai dropped his voice so low it was actually hard to hear him.

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard someone refer to it as a ‘business expenditure,’ but I wouldn’t be surprised if they were paying back either debts or protection money to the Port Mafia. Many businesses in this area are, especially some of the bigger ones with more complicated connections.”

He jerked his thumb back towards the building.

“How do you think such a newly established investment firm got so big so quick that they ended up moving into one of the bigger buildings downtown, right in the middle of Port Mafia turf?”

I balked.

“Seriously?”

Dazai nodded and I took a moment to think.

“So if that’s true then that means...” I thought aloud, “the person stealing from this account...”

“He’s stealing directly from the Port Mafia,” Dazai finished for me.

No sooner had Dazai finished speaking than a sound like a thunderclap echoed throughout the streets. Tremors shook the ground and as I fought to regain my footing, I turned around just in time to see columns of thick, black smoke pouring out of the shattered windows of the top floor of Tanaka Investments.

[izabesos]

why did you draw katara with orange skin?

hello! so, I’ve addressed this issue on a conversation I had with a follower and I think someone asked this before, but i’m not 100% sure, so here it goes:

my overall coloring and art is usually a little saturated. I used to draw on my cellphone, and when I started drawing on computer, I kept the same process I used for my phone drawings — but that’s when I noticed the drawings had a difference of color between the pc screen and the phone screen. on my phone, all of the drawings appeared to be more saturated and in warmer tones than on my pc. when I colored katara, on my pc, her skin color seemed less saturated and on colder tones than it did on the phone screen. if you check on your pc screen (I have a samsung laptop, I don’t know if it’s different only on mine) you’ll notice her skin color is brown in contrast. this same problem happened with a hazel levesque drawing of mine. in any way, i’m deeply sorry if I offended you or anyone along the way with this. as I said, if any of my poc followers think it’s more appropriate if the drawing is taken down, I completely understand it. however, now that i’m aware of this issue, i’m color correcting every single one of my drawings according to the phone settings, by taking screenshots and comparing the saturation difference :) anyway, thank you for bringing this to me, hope you have a great day!

[lightningcritter]

Abril Day 19! @abrilove

While I love me some balcony aesthetics for Bridgette and Chat Noir, I couldn’t resist imagining Bridgette retreating to the roof of her apartment complex, climbing up the steep Parisian roof to a spot that she claimed as HERS… only to see Chat Noir sitting there, absentmindedly staring at the Eiffel Tower. 

Now a short drabble for this absurdly specific AU in which Bridgette doesn’t have a balcony:

Before becoming Ladybug, Bridgette always found herself looking at the bit of roof poking out next to her over-head window when she woke up in the mornings. After a particularly bad day at school and pacing around her room in a frustrated frenzy of letting off steam, she decided to open the window to let in some fresh air. 

The part of the roof right beside the window seemed to be easily accessible and longing for some fresh air… yet she was still grounded… so she decided on a whim to climb out. She pulled on a heavier pink jacket rather than her light blazer, and grabbed a half-filled thermos of peach tea and poked her head out into the chilly evening air of an early spring.

The sunset was beautiful, casting gold light onto the side of white and blue buildings, an iron tint reflecting off windows. But it was hard to see beyond that. There was only a bit of the sun poking out above some taller buildings, the winding chimneys casting strange shadows over other rooftops. 

Bridgette suddenly wanted to see the entire sunset. So she pulls herself up and over the edge, pushing the glass with her head as she wriggles through. Legs shaking a little, she carefully stands up on the sloped roof because knowing her bad luck she’ll just slip on a loose shingle and then everyone will know where she is when she starts screaming. 

Her eyes grow wide, the genetically impossible blue color of them entirely reflecting the bright golden-pink of the glorious Paris sunset. The molten orb was nestled comfortably on the city-scape, casting its orange glow over all the city’s inhabitants. It is a lovely, unblocked view of the sunset.

She looks up, seeing a flat section of the roof not too far from her window. She looks down, swallowing nervously at the height just a few feet from her own feet. 

But Bridgette is determined if anything, so she tucks her thermos into her pocket and starts the climb. It’s a pretty quick climb, using her neighbors’ attic awnings as little pit stops. She comes across a flat section of the roof that offers her a grand view of the Eiffel Tower and rest of the city she has come to love after moving from her childhood home in China. 

It was still her place, small and tucked away from the city that sometimes seemed too large when the miraculous duo worked tirelessly through the night. She sometimes found herself sitting there on particularly restless nights, comforted by the warm lights in a romantic city that spilled out its orange glow on the rooftops and shone in the darkness of big buildings.

Tikki asked her only once why Bridgette insisted on climbing up to that spot without her miraculous when it was safer and faster. Bridgette cheerfully declared that it’s more fun to struggle up the roof with her pillows, fluffy blankets and snacks. And besides, this is her rooftop. Makes sense to get up there as Bridgette. 

Tikki merely laughed, her laughter sounding more like bell-like chimes than human laughter. “You’re still you, with and without the suit Bridgette!” And just offered to carry her bag of snacks for her. 

After a year of climbing to her roof by herself, Bridgette liked the company of the little kwami she came to regard as one of her best friends. She loathed to admit it, but the Parisian rooftops seemed emptier without her wisecracking and stupidly flirty cat who made jokes like he was going to run out of air if he didn’t.

But still, she liked her spot.

“WWWHHHHYYY” She wanted to groan when she saw the cat boy on HER roof, sitting in HER spot. But something about his wistful face stopped her. And the fact that his belt… tail…? gently flicked about on the roof much like his namesake. 

It was kind of cute.

She wasn’t sure how to announce her presence but he did that for her, turning to look at her with a bit of tenseness… perhaps thinking that the Mime was sneaking up on him. His face changed to an unsure yet still cautious expression. Meanwhile, Bridgette was grinning, unsuccessfully holding in the beginnings of a laugh.

There was something about the stiff way he turned with that weird eyebrow thing he does that just tipped her over the edge as she burst out laughing, hugging the mass of pillow and blanket tightly as she almost doubled over, giggling madly. 

His “um” and “uh” and “hrm…?” just made it harder to sober up. Shoulders still shaking with  remains of laughter, she makes an attempt to straighten up, looking up to the sky to avoid looking at his probably very confused face. “HAH! Sorry about that, you’re just very uh… funny-looking.”

She looked back down to seeing his irritated, almost offended grumpy cat face that revived her quieting giggles in laughter again. “Wait nonono-” She chokes out as she totters over to where he was, dropping the plush objects in her arms onto the roof. “I just meant that you just looked so cautious! I didn’t mean to laugh.”

“Well… It’s fine.” He responded, rolling his eyes, jumping when she dropped the blankets and pillows right beside him. “What are you doing!?”

“You’re in my spot.” She says, shaking her head as she squats to set up her usual set up, shooing him to move a bit.

“What- wait- why are- how did you even get up here!?” 

“I climbed up, obviously. Want a cookie?”

“….” This would be the second time in one day she would be offering him the cookie actually, the first time being in the library. He was so sure that not a lot of people noticed that little study space in the corner but then Bridgette comes out of nowhere with the brightest greeting that he has yet to see anyone top and plops herself in the seat next to him. She chatters about their last shared class as she takes her laptop out from her bag, already pulling up an assignment that Felix would later point out is due next week. He smiles when her head whips to gawk at the screen, her eyes widened almost comically. They easily engage into a comfortable conversation for the rest of the afternoon, snacking on cookies she made last weekend, and he was surprised to find that he was a bit sad when she had to go, finding himself waving at her with a smile as she hustled out of their little study area. 

“Sure.” Chat Noir sighs, taking the cookie. He looks at her little set-up, not sure if he should stay or go. But Bridgette makes the decision for him when she looks over and pats a spot next to him on the big green cushion. 

“Staying out of trouble?” He asks snarkily after a few minutes of peaceful silence. He bites in the cookie, a pleased sound making its way out of his mouth just as Bridgette squawks in indignation.

“Last time I saw you, you almost became mincemeat.” He retorts after chewing. “Just be more careful, the reporters are already a handful, I would like to,” not risk not being able to save you in time “not have to look out for a pesky civilian on top of that.”

“Well, like I said, it was by accident! How I was supposed to know there was a…” She gestures with her macadamia cookie, trying to find words to describe the saw-blade wielding villain but having no luck especially since Ladybug and Chat Noir avoided interaction with the news let alone release any information to the public. “Strange knife lady with uh, gray skin.” It’d be more than suspicious if she used jargon that the two used when discussing Papillon’s victims. 

He snorts at her description. “Talk about taking a stab in the dark.”

She just pokes her tongue out at him, pointedly turning away to take another bite of her cookie.

He finishes his cookie, patting his gloves to get rid of crumbs. He sinks into the comfortable plush of a second cushion up against a surprisingly clean chimney.

“You seem rather prepared.” He comments. “What are you doing up here?”

“I needed space.” She replies. “… To just think. What about you?”

“Same reason.”

[bubmyg]

an out of bounds umbrella - myg

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre/warnings: college!au, basketball player!au, (light) enemies to lovers, the real enemy is taehyung, fluff; yoongi’s birthday fic!

word count: 10,296

summary: you’re apologetic about almost blinding your university’s star point guard with the broken tip of your umbrella until you share a class with him and find out he’s a three star recruit but a four star dick or min yoongi doesn’t find your high school musical puns amusing.  

a/n: merry birthday to the light of my life :-(

You pressed buttered pieces of popcorn into gently chewing cheeks, squinted eyes trained on the television screen. Blurs of red and white streaked across brown panel flooring, squeaking shoes and dull roars from the crowd picking up on the mics as the two announcers rambled on about something you weren’t conscious of.

The color of the sweatshirt draped across your torso matched the jerseys of the opposing team, just as the embroidered logos stitched on the corners mirrored that of the website pulled up on your idle laptop on your desk. Going to a university with a nationally ranked basketball team gave some sense of pride, even if you hadn’t adamantly followed the team’s progress otherwise. So said the email pulled up on your laptop, one from a class you hadn’t yet, one from a professor you hadn’t met yet, insisting that you could have the first day of class off if and only if your university won the game currently transpiring before your eyes.

You weren’t watching for that reason, but to not have to wake up for the first day of a new semester gave a new sense to the grit on your teeth as the gap in the score dwindled in the favor of you having to set an alarm on a Monday.

It was a ten point game with ten minutes left in the game, something you noted when you were out of popcorn on your plate and had to dive for the bag on your desk in the short media timeout. It was a seven point game by the time you’d settled back into the stiff cushions of your couch, announcers adamant about the player profile stretched across the screen while play still happened in the background.

You recognized the plush lips stretched into a smile on the head shot simply because your roommate freshman year had made out with Park Jimin for five minutes at a frat party and hadn’t let you forget it. His dark hair was swept across smiling eyes, teeth wide and smile crooked as his stats proved the analysis that his three point percentage helped the team prevail from behind more often than not.

The graphic faded as Jimin regained possession off a steal on defense, burnt orange streaking through the middle of the court as the ball was passed and landed in the hands of the first one back in transition. He laid the ball in for an easy layup.

Five point game.

“Park certainly is an asset to the glue that holds this team together, however—” The announcer spoke as another graphic, smaller this time, adjusted to the corner, “—we have to talk about the one who got him the ball on that last three. Or who beat everyone back on defense after that steal.”

“Or who may certainly be in serious talks for player of the year.”

Going to a university with a ranked basketball generally meant that you were aware of the team’s top ranked recruit, top scorer, the one who drew handfuls of pro-scouts into the stands every home game. He was elusive on campus, presence at parties a myth without any proof, attendance in class mandatory but quiet, walks to class huddled between various members of his teammates.

Maybe you found the aura he gave off attractive, that he wasn’t incredible or loved by people his own age who he didn’t even know.

Or maybe it was just because Min Yoongi was really fucking pretty.

When you were done gaping at the pretty shape of his eyes or the lazy upturn to one corner of his mouth that didn’t quite show his teeth but dimpled his cheeks nonetheless, there was a live shot of his expression as he jogged to the huddle for a timeout. Bleached hair stuck in individual pleats to his forehead, gums on display as he pumped his fist and got intercepted by the round of individuals around the bench, dragging him into the open seat with high fives and claps on the back.

Yoongi had hit a pull up three. Two point game. Five minutes to go.

Your popcorn was cold and forgotten by the time the final buzzer sounded, the ten point swing now in the favor of you not having your first class in the morning, another win and the umpteenth in a row for your university's team, another thirty point game to bring Yoongi’s average scoring up to a national high. He was quiet now in the handshake line, lips tight, eyes down turned as the camera followed the team along while the announcers bid their goodbyes.

A notification emitted from your laptop, another email with the tagline thanks number fourteen and the contents assuring you that you wouldn’t be having class until Wednesday.

You switched off your television as those in the next sporting program on the channel began to chatter about the infamous number fourteen. Unpopped kernels ricocheted through your trash can as you binned your cold snack, sighing at the half opened email on your screen.

You sighed, “Thanks, Min Yoongi.”

The second day of the semester was dulled by a mid winter day warm enough to elicit a torrential downpour of cold rain. And if there was something that never changed with the whether or the term, it was the wind tunnel created through the middle of various academic buildings, whipping ice into your cheeks and blowing the sleeves of your jacket out from the sanction of your gloves. You’d left early, mostly to assure you found the classroom, not be late on the first day of a class.

But mostly to not be picked up Mary Poppins style by the cheap umbrella clutched blindly in aching knuckles.

You could hear the thin metal pieces groaning each time you changed direction, barely glancing into crosswalks for cars or buses or that singular brave soul who would try their bike. The place where they connected in the middle was pressed against the layers of hoods and hats on the top of your head, as close to the ground as you could manage while still protecting your laptop keys from freezing to a standstill. You swayed with each gush of the wind and your boots anchored you in place the best they could while still moving forward as you observed two dark blobs moving in the opposite direction from you in the distance.

Preparation began fully when you could hear them noisily chatting over the wind. You rooted the umbrella in place with two hands, slower steps stalling as close as you could get to the edge of the sidewalk without dipping into the slush mess of snow and mud, raising your head just enough to assess your distance from the two approaching individuals.

One scrambled out of the way as he seemed to register you in the same moment, but the timing was not in favor of the next lift of your foot off the ground as you were stumbling a half step in their direction.

You hadn’t looked enough to notice the two individuals were without, protection limited to black hoodies cinched underneath their chins, but you expected your umbrella to clash into one of theirs. Instead, you narrowly avoided driving the rounded edge of cheap metal into the nearest boy’s eye socket as he locked up at the last second to let out a grunt of annoyance.

Blonde hair draped out over dark eyes with the startled jerk of his head and suddenly you were seven more layers of horrified as you leaned as far as you could in the opposite direction.

“Oh, Yoongi, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

His voice was gruff as he quipped curtly, “Control your umbrella, maybe?”

You stood rooted in a shallow puddle of mud, creaking umbrella clutched in loosened palms as his gaze turned from yours, hands shoving deeper into his pockets as a kicking step carried him away from you. The proceeding gust of wind was the only thing to derive your attention, grip quickly clamping back down on the object in hand as you swallowed thickly in watching their backs saunter away.

The other one’s hood had fallen off now and you wished the puddle below you would gape into a black hole and swallow you whole when Park Jimin smacked his friend’s chest before beaming at you over his shoulder.

“I like your umbrella, babe!”

Your tongue was dry from the ajar hang of your mouth in driving winds, muffling your responding thanks! as much as the leftover horror still clinging to your numb veins did.

The umbrella was crumpled and shoved into the bag of your backpack when you settled into your second class of the day, phone pressed against your ear as your irritated glare seemed to keep your back corner of the lecture hall clear.

“Imagine that news headline,” Jeongguk was chattering through the speaker, “Local dumbass on college campus blinds star point guard with a shitty umbrella. Team never wins a game again. Student body rallies to burn down apartment building of the attacker.”

“Can I stay with you when they do?” Your cold glare met the far wall as you dipped a hand into your sopping wet backpack, drawing out a notebook and a pen and you wished the wall were Jeongguk’s stupid smiling face so you could jab your pen between the gap in his bunny teeth.

“Absolutely.”

“I hate you.”

“Noted for whether I put you on the couch or make Taehyung share his bed with you,” You heard him cackle and it lessened the automatic grimace that graced your features. “Seriously though. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It’s not, I’m just an idiot.”

Jeongguk hesitated and you wanted to punch him through the line, “Maybe. Is this your last class today? I have to remember your new schedule so I can know when to be a pain in the ass but like, respectfully.”

“Yes, Guk.”

“Do you want me to bring you soup later?”

Your grateful answer stalled on your tongue and you nearly swallowed the muscle when a stupidly familiar blob of drenched black fabric plopped down in the seat three down from you. You turned with a cocked eyebrow, the tiniest voice in your head that wasn’t Jeongguk’s rambling for you to answer him telling you that the odds were ridiculous and this was a class for your major and why would Min Yoongi be in a literature class?

Min Yoongi was definitely in the literature class and he was definitely sitting three seats down from you and he was definitely staring at you with one eyebrow cocked and an annoyed round to the black of his eyes.

“Does your silence mean yes but you want me to bring the soup but with, like, crackers or something?”

“Yes, Guk, soup sounds good. I’ll, uh, see you later, profjustwalkedinbye!”

You heard him snort and with another fleeting glance you found that he was no longer staring at you but instead picking at loose skin around his fingernails. You took the discovery with a sigh of relief and the freedom to do the same to your own battered nails.

He was two seats closer when the professor had halfheartedly split the room in discussion groups with a waving flick of her wrist in general corners. The individuals who were presumably meant to speak with the two of you had joined the group a layer below in the lecture hall, leaving the awkward silence that went with you fingering at the pages on your notebook while Yoongi pretended to read the passage projected on the board.

“Did you...do this reading?”

You startled at the rasp of Yoongi’s voice addressing you and when you looked up your irritation grew tenfold because now you didn’t want to admit that he was super fucking pretty. Delicate eyelashes blinked at you, not amused by the frantic fish of your mouth as you snapped harsher than you meant to.

“Of course I did,” You swallowed, shoulders sinking, “Did you?”

There was something infuriating about his next, almost rhetorical inquiry, purely because the lack of anything cocky encompassing his entire being. There wasn’t a smug smirk plastered to his lips, no knowing smile, no wink to precede the words. Just a lazy cock of his chin as he squished his cheek into curled knuckles complete with pursed pink lips.

“Do you know who I am?”

If the easy lack of care that encompassed his entire being intrigued you before it made you grind your teeth into jagged edges now, especially with the connotation of his question no matter how simply he asked it.

So you contrasted his expression, a sweet smile meeting your teeth as you still cold cheeks screamed from the movement, “No? Should I?”

Something sparkled in the corner of Yoongi’s right eye when it crinkled ever so slightly, lips twitched as he straightened, dragging the hand on his cheek down to rest around the back of his neck as his eyes diverted to the board.

“Well, I’m Yoongi. And no, I didn’t do the reading. Little busy this last weekend.”

“Well, it was essentially about how—”

He held up his hand, “Why don’t you just answer her questions when she calls on our group, then?”

Yoongi didn’t wait for your answer as he was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. “Yeah,” You muttered dryly, “I can do that.”

“Perfect,” The back of his head hit the plastic of the chair and he craned his neck to squint at you, bleached locks tumbling away from dark eyebrows to expose the wrinkles rippling across his forehead, “What was your name again?”

You murmured it and he hummed, eyes falling shut as his fingers ran across his face.

“Wake me up when she starts discussion.”

You rounded a tour group exiting the basement of the student union without considering the eye roll the guide shot at the back of your head, swinging onto the staircase to the second floor and taking the arching marble two at a time. Your wet backpack felt three times heavier on your shoulders as your wet boots squeaked around the corner of the second story, retching open the tiny blue door hidden at the apex of the last stair of the main hallway.

The stairs were narrower leading up the chute to the virtually nonexistent third story of the union, wooden and cracked and creaking with each step but you took them two at a time as well, not stopping to stroke your fingers over the random pieces of artwork hung to the walls as you normally would. The room was dark when you reached the hilt, not that you expected otherwise, and you stumbled into the space with a stupidly exaggerated sigh of relief.

For once, the ache in your joints from the cold and the wet welcomed the strange heat that constantly infiltrated the spacious room at the top of the union, the south ballroom as it was advertised to clubs looking to rent space on the university website. It was spacious, the wooden floors scuffed and dotted in various streaks of grey and white paint, a lifted platform at the front of the room with stacks of grey chairs pressed against the wall, windows facing the street lining the walls but the cobwebs so bad it wasn’t worth it to try to see out of the frosted glass, a singular piano at the head of room that you were sure hadn’t been played in years.  

You stumbled on your favorite study spot on accident years ago and were thankful for the refuge that only a handful of students knew the whereabouts to every day, even when it was only the second day of the semester and you didn’t have highlighted notes to spread out the length of the room while pacing in front of the corresponding flashcards.

You discarded all your wet articles of clothing in a pile in the corner, your backpack, socks, shoes, jacket, top layer of shirt, leaving you in slightly damp jeans and a t-shirt as you hobbled across the uneven floor to the raised platform. Your ass hit the surface first, then your shoulders, sprawling openly across the floor as you welcomed the sound of muted traffic as the only thing your ringing ears could hear.

Until your phone went off in your bag, muffled by the layers of clothing piled on top of it and the thin sheen of ice still clinging to the pores.

“Are you upstairs?” Jeongguk whined pitifully, “I’ve burnt my hand twice of your fucking soup and want it gone.”

You sighed.

“Yeah.”

“Stop being all sulky, it’s day two—” There was some rustling and then he was grunting, “—why are you pretending that we didn’t know all student athletes are assholes.”

“You’re a student athlete.”

He was whining again, “Yes, but the swim team is different.”

“Beg to differ, Tae’s an ass.”

“He’s an ass to you because he thinks you’re hot and I said no.”

“He’s an ass even if you would have said yes.” 

“He’s a lovable ass.”

You parted your mouth to contradict when the rickety old doorknob was jiggling in it’s much too big hole, stalling your heart in your throat. You were stood, barefoot and drenched in the corner of the room with your clothes spread everywhere. Not a good look for an unsuspecting freshman who’d accidentally stumbled upon the room in search of the office who handled lost or stolen student ID’s.

“Hey, are you here?”

“No, I’m like two blocks away,” Jeongguk paused for the wind, “Why are we whispering?”

The door jiggled again, cracked barely a sliver, and then shut all the same. The echo of retreating footsteps echoed your breathing as you sighed, shaking your head even though Jeongguk couldn’t see you and he was prodding again with an expectant noise in his throat.

“No reason, thought somebody was coming up the stairs,” You slumped into a nearby chair, “Hurry up.”

“So we aren’t whispering?—”

It was two weeks later and the sun was out enough for you not to have to zip your winter jacket to your chin when Yoongi’s quiet confession and page full of notes almost made you think he wasn’t an asshole.

“I, uhm,” His chair rolled closer despite the apprehensive narrow of your eyes at the side of his head, “did the reading.”

“Good. That is, generally, the only thing you’re required to do in a literature class.”

He blinked, “It was...good.”

You blinked back, “You found Freud good?”

“Truthfully? No. Not at all. I hated every bit of it,” Yoongi’s notebook hit the desk with a dull thud, the metal spiral unraveled at the end and catching in the strings of his hoodie, “but I did read it. Aren’t you happy?”

“Why should I be happy that you actually did the assignment?”

“Because I can talk in class today—”

“—just because you can doesn’t mean you will—”

“—and because I was busy last night.” Yoongi flattened his palm over his notes, “Did you watch the game last night?”

“Just because you’ve suddenly developed this brooding hatred for Min Yoongi doesn’t mean you aren’t required to go to the games with me anymore,” Jeongguk’s weighed slumped against the door audibly and you groaned in response.

“I’m the only one of us that has tickets—” You tucked your pillow tighter to your face, “—you’re required to go with me.”

“Get up or we’re not going to get our seats.”

He let out a noise of surprise when you tossed your pillow at your door. “Are you wearing that stupid quarter-zip that’s a size too small for you?”

“Open the door and find out.”

“That’s a yes.”

“Open. The door.”

You rolled out of your duvet, flicking the lock on your door. Jeongguk nearly crashed the pointed edge against your nose as he shuffled through the threshold of the doorway. A quirked eyebrow rose higher into fluffy bangs as his gaze drug upward from your socked feet to your glaring eyes.

“Thought you only wore those socks to games,” He gestured vaguely, “and that ring. Move your hoodie, do you have your lucky sports bra on—”

“Jeongguk.”

He was knuckle deep in the shoulder of the heavy fabric, fingers plucking at the thick strap for good measure as he feigned, “What?”

“Get your hand out of my shirt and let’s go.”

The tall man groaned as he trailed you down the stairs of your building, longer legs taking them two at a time with incessant fingers prodding at your shoulder blades, “Eager to see your boyfriend in his element?”

You didn’t hold the door for Jeongguk as you took a running step forward out onto the sidewalk, “That shirt doesn’t make you look like you hit your bench max this week just because it’s tight.”

He caught up to you, shoving his fingers in the back pocket of your jeans, “And Yoongi won’t be able to see your ass in these from the court.”

“I didn’t wear them because of that—”

“He’s looking at you.”

“Jeongguk there’s two thousand people in this general direction. He’s not looking at me.”

“He’s definitely looking at you,” Jeongguk snorted when you lifted his arm to hide behind it, “He just smiled. I’ve never seen Min Yoongi smile during a basketball game.”

“They’re up by thirty. He thinks I don’t know who he is.”

“...and he’s still looking at you. Especially now that you’re attempting to hide. Secrets up I think.”

“Is it too late to move to the top section?”

“We’re not moving. This is our spot.”

“Bring Taehyung next time and I’ll move up to the top. Perfect plan.”

“Not to interrupt your existential crisis but Park Jimin is definitely waving at you.”

You whipped your head around at that, nearly bashing your nose off of Jeongguk’s flexed bicep as you immediately found the fluffy haired guard cackling in your general direction. If you weren’t paranoid, you wouldn’t have noticed him nudge the bleached haired one you were refusing to acknowledge and mouth that one?

They both waved this time and your muscle twitched to return the favor for whatever impulsive reason until bile burned up the back of your throat at the sight of nearly everyone around you waving as well. The pair seemed satisfied with themselves, having found whoever their target was as they exchanged a few nudged elbows to their stomachs.

You resisted the urge to flash your middle finger at Yoongi even though he was most certainly not looking at you when he cast another fleeting glance over his shoulder.

The back of your neck burned but you deadpanned, “What game?”

Each corner of Yoongi’s lips made the shape of a capital I and he nodded, throat visibly jumping as he dragged his notebook closer to his nose. “So Freud and why he’s not, in fact, good—”

You acquired Min Yoongi’s number a month and a half into the semester when group projects were a flippant announcement at the end of class and he’d shoved the device into your palms without asking what he wanted.

“I have to keep my grades up for my, uhm…” He trailed off and his hand was on the back of his neck again while you regarded him with thumbs stalled on the keyboard of the glass screen, “...my scholarship. So, I’d like to do well on this. You know?”

You began to type them, nodding, “I also would like to do well.”

“Good,” Yoongi accepted the phone back, tapping around on the screen as your own buzzed in your back pocket, “Then we’re on the same team.”

You waited until three days later in the middle of an away game that was illuminated on your television, finishing half your bowl of popcorn and texting him a question on his limited work on the shared powerpoint. It sent as he drained a three pointer and you couldn’t help but groan.  

They won and he responded almost an hour after you’d crawled into bed, a smiling emoji punctuating the roll of your eyes as you shoved your phone under your pillow, completely unsuspecting of the four extra slides he finished on the plane ride back to campus.

“Why are you calling me?” You squinted out the glass of one of the windows in your study room, cobwebs swept aside from the room’s yearly cleaning and enough for you to see blurred blobs crossing the sidewalks below.

“Because I don’t know how to explain this to you over text,” Yoongi mumbled on the other end, “There’s only so many emojis I can use to describe Shakespeare and my lack knowledge with anything technical.”

“There is a keyboard besides the emoji keyboard.”

“Exactly a thing helpless me would not know. Can you not be insufferable for two seconds?”

“Only if you never call me again.”

“Sounds like a fair trade,” Yoongi quipped dryly. “Get on the powerpoint, I think I accidentally deleted all our sources.”

“You did what—”

He sent you a picture of sprinkle covered donut after hanging up and brought it to you in a crumpled napkin the next morning.

You were tripping up the narrow stairway to the room the next time that you called him and he answered with the same petty sarcasm, “I thought the deal was no more phone calls.”

“I said for you not to call me,” You huffed, pausing in the middle of a bowed piece of wood, “This is different.”

“Right,” A melodious noise echoed on the other end of the line and Yoongi grunted, “Well then, get on with it. What do you need?”

“I need you to check my work on the analysis portion—” Another noise and you frowned as it seemed to echo with the next timid step you took in ascend, “—see if you agree.”

One more noise. A ding but softer. It got louder when you took three steps higher and you pulled your phone off your ear to squint at it. His voice was softer as he was unaware that you were frowning at the bottom of your phone, “You care if I agree with you or not?”

“Not really, I just need to say you looked it over in case you decide to complain to the prof or something,” You held a steady hand on the doorknob to the room as you delicately cradled your phone to your face, “Do you hear a weird dinging noise? It kind of sounds like a—”

“Piano?—” The noise came again and you jumped when it was louder than it had been any of the previous times, “—yes, I hear it.”

“Then why…” You pushed open the door only for the sound to curl fully into your ears, tinkled and coming all from a few keys pushed close together as feathered by a veiny hand not holding onto a phone.

“...why the fuck are you in here?”

His phone slapping off the keys didn’t provide near the beautiful sound that previously had been coming from the careful touch of seasoned fingers and you winced as it came dully in one ear and directly in the other that still held your phone. You scrambled to hang it up while Yoongi scrambled for his to scoop it off the floor.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize only you could use this room,” Yoongi’s retort was spoken as he was bent like a pretzel underneath the creaking stool he was perched delicately upon, managing to pluck his phone between his thumb and second knuckle on his index finger.

“This is my room,” You tried dumbly, still halfway in the door with the loose knob bobbing in your grasp.

“Do you have it reserved?” He’d straightened now, black eyes challenging you.

“...no.”

“Were you here first?”

You grit your teeth at the childish question.

“No.”

“Good, then it’s our room,” Yoongi pushed himself away from the piano, stalking to his backpack that was slumped in the corner. Your corner. “We can work on this project together instead of exchanging awkward phone calls and texts.”

The door shut but you continued to stare at him as he settled onto the floor, pulling his laptop from a pouch in his backpack.

“So you don’t carry a basketball around like Chad Danforth?”

Yoongi cocked an eyebrow in the exact moment that you panicked of the words that just left your lips. He said it slowly but it sounded like he’d been thrown through a chipmunk generator, “What do you mean?”

“It’s just—” You gestured so wildly with your hands, your backpack slid off one shoulder and you stumbled, “—he claims he doesn’t dance and then can dance. You give off the impression that all you do is sleep but you can play piano. Same concept.”

Or that you play basketball and share the same number with the infamous Troy Bolton.

“When you have to explain the joke, it’s not funny anymore,” Yoongi singsonged and the deep gravel in his tone made you shiver and contemplate the idea of jumping his stupid heart shaped mouth if he could fucking sing too. He hid under his bangs as he added, “The second movie is best one of the franchise, though.”

The implication that he knew enough about the movies to even argue that point didn’t register as you deadpanned, “Respectfully disagree. First one is the best.”

Yoongi sighed and the trace of a smile slipping to your lips was unconscious.

“I’m not arguing with you about High School Musical when you’re supposed to be helping my dumbass understand Macbeth, get over here.”

“What’s the point in this competition if we just end up sharing the space every time anyway?” You heaved into your phone receiver, skipping individual blocks of concrete lining the sidewalks in route to the union. Your backpack flapped on your shoulders where you’d failed to zip it in the rush out of your last class of the day and the notifications on your phone were all from a Jeongguk you were ignoring.

“Principal of the matter,” Yoongi was equally out of breath, “or, if you’d ever beat me, I’m under no impression that you wouldn’t kick me out. You should be grateful I always get there first and let you stay.”

“You don’t always get there first.”

“I’ll let you think that. Anyway, I propped the door open. Follow the smell of the breadsticks I bought us.”

“I don’t want any of your fucking breadsticks.”

“Good.”

Good news, you have the room to yourself today. I have things to do.

Translation: There’s a game today.

Don’t threaten me with a good time, Min Yoongi.

Translation: I miss you.

“Can you stop doing that?”

You popped an earbud out, even if you’d had your music paused for well over fifteen minutes, nothing but an absent doodle on the margins of your notes as you’d listened intently to the gentle sounds of the old piano filling the room as played by Yoongi’s crooked fingers. It was the nodding off of your cheek against the chair you leaned against from your position on the floor that erased the sleep clinging to your digits as you grit your teeth and reprimanded the only other individual in the room.

He turned with a single raised eyebrow, soft caramel eyes widened in surprise. Quickly did they flatten into something of mischief after drawing in the sight of your swollen eyes and slightly frumpled hair.

“What?” Yoongi teased, poking a succession of keys with a lopsided grin, “Playing you a nice lullaby?”

“Seriously, Yoongi,” Your voice came out harsher than intended and you winced when the playful smile erased from his lips, “I have to get this done.”

There was a pause in between his shrug and his low, “You can always go home.”

He was silent as you shoved papers into the smallest pouch on your backpack, uncaring that you’d just folded half your notes in route to jam your notebook in with your laptop. You barely got your jacket over your shoulders, backpack dangling from the crook of your elbow as irritated steps worked to carry you toward the door.

Your bag tumbled to the floor, jacket covering it when gentle fingers pried their way into one of your curled fists, tugging just enough to stall your pointed advances.

“I’m sorry,” There was a sincere shine in the gentle blink of Yoongi’s eyes up at you, one that mirrored the squeeze around your palm, “I’ll stop. Stay.”

“I just have a lot to do.”

Another squeeze. A trace of his thumb over the back of your knuckles. “I know.”

“Sorry.”

You stepped away from him but he didn’t let go of your hand, carefully drawing his gaze over your features until you averted your eyes to the side, trying to pull your hand against your chest. He let go of you, only to softly inquire, “Do you need help studying?”

“Do you know anything about statistics?”

Yoongi quirked an eyebrow, taking a step forward to your step back to your previous position.

“I can learn.”

There were eight, neat little crescent shapes carved into Jeongguk’s forearm by the time the clock clicked over to zero, effectively sucking the life from the thousands of individuals seated around you. Your grip loosened on him only when someone trying to retreat down the staircase to your right bumped against your shoulder, drawing your blank eyes to squint in confirmation at the scoreboard.

Jeongguk didn’t move because you didn’t, your gaze sweeping over the heads of still seated fans to the members of the opposing team to finally assess the frustration written over Yoongi’s features. He ducked out of the handshake line as the last of the opposing team members clasped him on the back, evading the hand of Jimin that reached out from him as he bent over the bench to retrieve a towel. The white was draped across his head, ends pulled underneath his chin with white knuckles as quick steps carried him toward the locker room.

“Hey,” Jeongguk jiggled his arm still loosely clasped in your fingers, trading it to drape across your shoulders as he playfully nudged your hip, “Can’t always win them all.”

You nodded slowly, eyeing the two point difference on the scoreboard with a sour taste in your mouth. “The close ones are the ones that hurt the most.”

“Right, just like when I was three points off a C on that bio test you helped me study for—”

“Guk.”

“Sorry,” He grinned sheepishly. He used his grip on your shoulders to steer you out around the dwindling mass of students, “Next game, right?”

The lid of the piano was closed but Yoongi sat at the bench nonetheless, his notebook propped awkwardly against the curve in the wood with the plastic end of his pen clenched between his front teeth. He’d spoken nearly three words to you, about the same amount that was written across the top of his notebook in giant bold letters, ones he kept filling in over and over again. It was the class name and the date, scribbled in permanence in between shuddered sighs and the push of his fingers through his hair.

You watched him warily, you own progress on work going slowly as two sides of your conscious fighting for the correct approach to the situation. Acknowledge you knew of the loss and try to comfort him that way (hey, are you okay after missing those couple of free throws at the end of the game and turning it over with fifteen seconds left? Just curious.), or simply ask the question you already knew the answer to (Clearly you aren’t, but are you okay?).  

He beat you to either, the smack of his notebook against the floor entirely louder than the tremble in his timbre, “Hey, uh…”

The jerk of your chin toward Yoongi’s voice startled him and he swallowed in between his words, “Uh, do you have a lot to do?”

“Nothing too important,” You lied of the essay you needed to finish outlining. The blank word document on your laptop mocked you from it’s place behind you, “What’s up?”

He nodded toward the instrument he was perched at, “Do you care if I play a little bit? It won’t be too long I just need to—”

“Go for it,” Your smile was tight lipped only to threaten it from breaking into either sympathy or pure endearment, “I’ll try not to fall asleep.”

Yoongi’s fingers had only feathered over a few collection of notes before something harsh was ringing through the room as he settled his palm down over the keys, turning again to you. “I know a way to keep you awake while I play,” He tried bluntly and you cocked an eyebrow at the gentle pink brushing up the back of his neck.

“What’s that? Play me the entire High School Musical soundtrack? I had you as Chad, not Kelsey but now I’m intrigued—”

He ignored you with fully pink cheeks, dragging his stature across the creaking old bench to pat the space next to him, “Come sit with me.”

“I—”

“Only if you want to,” He touched the back of his next with fingers crooked at the very tip, rambling more so to the uneven floorboards than to the amused smile on your face, “Might keep you awake if you’re closer to the source of the sound. Or I can just pinch you when you start to—”

“Hush, you have to give me a second to get up,” You abandoned your post on the floor without a second thought, uncaring that you probably just lost your last good pen to one of said, uneven floorboards.

There was a touch of Yoongi’s gums in your peripheral as you settled rigidly next to him, watching as he laid dainty wrists to the keys while glancing at you, “I take requests only if they’re not High School Musical related.”

You rolled your eyes, folding your hands in between the awkward cross of your thighs, “Just play something.”

You were awarded the forward face of his unabashed beam at that, one that ducked away from you in flushed embarrassment, mumbling in an attempt to close the spread of his lips up into the apples of his cheeks.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The I’ll be late text appeared in your palm as you’d opened your text thread with Yoongi to tease of his competitive spirit dwindling. It hadn’t, he was fresh off a game where he’d scored thirty points and grabbed ten rebounds in a demolishing comeback win that kept him out of class for travel but assured he’d be back the next day for his presence to annoy you while studying.

You opted for a thumbs up in response rather than your normal snarky response, dropping the device into your pocket with a sigh. The novel you were to be reading looking ten times less appealing without the calm of Yoongi’s presence just a glance through strands of your hair away. You rolled the tattered spine over in your fingers, drawing gentle fingers down the glossy cover as unconscious steps carried you away from your usual corner near the risen platform toward the piano bench. The curl of your toes into one of the legs was more violent than your ears were prepared for and your backside hit the unforgiving wood, hard, from the start of your heart in your ears.

A page in and the aura the piano suggested was doing you no good, especially not when you checked your phone and lacked an update of how late late would be. You dogeared the page to reread when you weren’t unconsciously on edge, sliding the book across the floor until it came to a sad rest a few feet before your bag.

Your fingers instead found themselves pulling up on the tattered wood of the piano, revealing the dull ivory that you were clueless to other than the comfort that the sounds, or the potential of someone playing the sounds (or, quite frankly, the comfort that someone you knew who could play), brought. One poke to a key and you winced, the sound dull to the jabbing thump of your rigid finger. Another, softer, and you relaxed as you began to poke around at the keys closest to you as if you were hunting for letters on a keyboard in pitch darkness.

“Why is it me playing for you?” You startled a crescendo of keys with the flat of your palm but the smirking figure shuffling through the door showed no other emotion than joy, “You should clearly be playing for me.”

You recovered after a handful of stuttered syllables that resembled nothing of what you wanted to say, “Well I figured if you could play, it couldn’t be that hard but I was, uh, wrong.”

“Want me to teach you?”

Yoongi towered over you, white fringe stuck in blinking eyelashes, smashed down by the black hood cinched around puffed cheeks, but nothing was teasing about the purse of his lips as they paused in wait for your response, one hand supporting the lean of his stature against the side of the piano.

“I, uh, actually probably need to get to my reading,” You tripped in slow motion off the bench, “maybe some other time—”

You barely registered the pressure of his fingers around your wrist as he tugged you back, taking your place on the edge of the seat while dragging your hip to knock against his in the same movement. He apologized only with a quirk of his lips into a soft smile, fingers trailing over the underside of your wrists to situate your hands against the piano keys.

“Just a quick lesson,” Yoongi’s voice brushed your ear as he leaned across you to press one of your fingers down against the key it held.

You were deaf to any of his instructions, feeling only the heat of calloused fingertips guiding your movements while listening only to the rasp in his murmur rather than the teaching his words held.

“We don’t play like you type,” He told you after a moment, and it was when he’d risen to move behind you that you thought you were going to, literally, pass out into his chest. He paid no mind to your panic, nudging your hands aside to place his where yours had once been, “I can’t concentrate sometimes with you hacking away over there.”

“Shut up,” The words felt dry on your tongue and you were lucky anything came out at all.

You could hear the smile in Yoongi’s voice as his chin leaned over your shoulder, “Put your hands on top of mine.”

Min Yoongi’s hands were massive, swallowing the small surface area they rested against, pale and freckled with prominent veins crossing through red knuckles, a few rings wrapped around bony digits, nails cut neat but fingers around them worn raw from picking and chewing, ones that you would beg to have cradled around your own or hollowed between your cheeks.

Either one would suffice.

You hesitated at the clamminess you felt pulling off the material of your pants but he hummed in encouragement from behind you, wiggling his fingers. You were delicate in the way you rested your hands over his, as if the feather light touch could mask the sheen of sweat and their constant shake.

“Like this,” Yoongi was explaining, fluidly, drawing seasoned fingers across the keys, indirectly helping you to play something so complex you could only dream of ever learning. You were entirely more attuned to the flex of his appendages underneath your own than the sound they made at the tips, flooding his voice as though your ears were underwater and he were at the surface.

He slipped his hands away from yours, still leaning over you as he affirmed in a breath, “Better?”

You craned your neck to look at him, lips parted to respond but you nearly swallowed your tongue at his proximity. Long eyelashes brushed against his cheeks, minuscule twitch of his chin following the stare of your eyes into deep brown irises. Petaled lips rolled when his tongue traced from the inside of his cheek to run the length of his bottom lip, soft fringe brushing against your forehead as he leaned a fraction of a space closer.

“Yeah,” You managed to offer at a whisper, molars catching the inside of your cheek as your eyes darted to the plush of his parted lips, “I think I’ve got it now.”

Yoongi’s lips were soft like the cup of his hands around your face, testing the waters of your mouth as his scrunched nose bumped against your cheek. He met the sharp breath you sucked in when you didn’t pull away, settling into the repeated brush of his mouth against yours, kisses tender and sweet like the swipe of his thumbs against your cheekbones.

You held onto his wrists when he pulled away, pressing his forehead to yours to regard you with darkened pupils.

His voice wavered between a thick whisper and an airy inquiry, “Did you ever get a less shitty umbrella?”

Seven shades of horror encompassed you again like they had that day but he held you in place when you tried to jerk away, pressing another chaste kiss to the startled part of your mouth.

“You, what—”

“First of all, you’re a terrible liar,” His lips pressed to your cheek, “secondly, I see you at games. You stick out when with that tall prick from the swim team—”

“His roommate on the swim team is a prick, not him—”

Yoongi muffled your groan of protest with a reprimanding kiss, leaving one on the tip of your nose for good measure, “You called me by my name when you ran into me.”

“I had on three different hoods and was sopping fucking wet.”

“Would it be cheesy of me to say I’d never forget a face as beautiful as yours?”

Your cheeks heated underneath Yoongi’s grasp even as you glared, “Yeah, it would.”

He hummed, one hand leaving your face to pass bent knuckles underneath your eye, “You are, though. Beautiful.”

You went to protest and Yoongi pinched your cheek this time in reprimand, “—and you treat me like a normal college student who likes the shitty breadsticks at the dining hall and doesn’t understand Shakespeare without the Internet.”

“No one calls me out on my bullshit except coach. Sometimes. You do though, and you’re unapologetic about doing it. But you also don’t treat me like some dumbass athlete, even though you knew. You don’t treat me like a dumbass in general.”

“Because you aren’t.”

He thumbed at the seam of your lips, gaze wandering from the place where he plucked at the wet of your bottom lip to somewhere behind you. “I really like you…” His throat bobbed, “...even if you think I’m a little bit of an ass.” 

“You can be,” You reciprocated again and you pressed your thumbs into the pulse on the underside of his wrists, “but I like it. I like you.”

 Yoongi’s nose wrinkled and something like doubt flashed in his gaze as it dropped to your lap this time, grip on your cheeks loosening, “Yeah?”

You kissed him this time, trying desperately to assure him that, yeah, even if the tiniest part of you resented the rest of you for it. His grip tightened again on your cheeks, holding you in place for two, three, five prolonged presses of your mouth before he was breathing nearly out of context, “Are you coming to the game tomorrow?”

“Yes, Jeongguk and I have—”

“Will you stay after?” The words jumbled together but you didn’t have a chance to assure him with another nip to his bottom lip as he added, “We can go get pizza or something. I don’t know if my roommate will be home but my room is pretty comfy…”

You quirked an eyebrow and Yoongi’s entire features were shaded the prettiest hue of pink, the only exceptions the freckles dotted around his cheeks and nose, “We really can just hang out, unless you want to come up here and sit on the cold floor—”

“Yoongi.”

He stopped rambling and peered at you under lidded eyes.

You kissed his cheek, lips lingering as you agreed, “That sounds perfect.”

“He’s looking at you again.”

Jeongguk spoke without looking at you, nudging you first. When there wasn’t an immediate, snarky reply, he was tucking his chin to his shoulder, eyes still stuck to the happenings on the screen.

“I know.”

“Hey, did you hear me, he’s—” Jeongguk’s sharp gaze sliced into your cheek then to your hand that was lifted and twisting back and forth at the wrist, “—wait, you what?”

There was a fond smile pasted to your lips, one so tight it hurt your cheeks like the ache in your wrist from how enthusiastically you waved to the court. You’d clearly caught Yoongi’s attention, a lopsided smirk indenting into his cheeks as he shook his head, fringe falling over his eyes as his chin dropped to the stitching across his chest. An itching heat burned up the back of your spine, one that you couldn’t and didn’t want to squirm away from until a hand wrapped around your elbow and tugged.

You jerked your attention away at the third, painful, tug on your arm. Jeongguk was looking at you like you’d sprouted a new appendage from the apex of your throat, pupils twisting down the length of your features and back up as though he’d find that third hand growing on your forehead instead.

“What do you mean you know?”

“He was looking over here because I waved at him,” You blanched, twisting your chin in faux questioning, “He’s my friend?”

“Oh.” Jeongguk blinked, “So you’re finally accepting it.”

“What?”

“Nothing. He’s waving back,” He used his grip on your arm to angle your shoulders back toward the court and sure enough, Min Yoongi was flushed the same bright shade of pink that wasn’t from the thirty minutes of game play he’d endured. His hand rose gradually, flicking once just above his shoulder as he cocked an eyebrow at you.

Your mouth went dry and you were thankful for Jeongguk’s grip on you when Yoongi winked, bottom lip escaping from his teeth as he turned and jogged in the direction of his teammates.

An elbow on your opposite jabbed against your side and a voice an octave deeper than your giggling best friend mused, “Friend, huh?”

“Yes,” Jeongguk’s grip dropped to your wrist, as if to keep you from swinging at Taehyung as you turned toward him. “He asked me to come.”

Taehyung snorted, arms folded tightly to his chest, one thick eyebrow raising, “Yeah? You would have came anyway, he knows that right?”

“Will you switch me seats?” You beamed sweetly at the boy on your left, jerking your wrist from his grasp in the same movement.

“Absolutely not,” Jeongguk answered with an equally shitty grin, leaning closer to you, “You’re the one that asked Tae to come.”

“You’re stuck with me for another seventy seconds, sweetheart,” said swimmer sang, nudging your side again.

A minute ten. Just say a minute ten.

“Do you want to head out early?” Jeongguk nodded toward the scoreboard, another blowout score with some ridiculous stats by the part of a player who wore the number fourteen, “Try to beat the traffic?”

“Why don’t you two go ahead and go find the car and then—” You stroked a ticklish finger under Jeongguk’s chin and he retracted in on himself, “—you can come pick me up.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you owe me for making me stand next to Taehyung all game.”

“He’s not that bad.”

Another nudge to your far side, “Still here. And I know you love me.”

Jeongguk blinked at the unwavering annoyance in your glaring eyes, nodding once, twice, before frantic jerks of his chin followed the clamber of his lanky stature from the bleacher seats. “C’mon, Tae, let’s go.”

The sounds of music had filled the arena by the time their backs disappeared down the staircase, the melody of victory as the times weaved through formality handshakes. You clapped along with the remaining crowd that weren’t trying to escape after Taehyung and Jeongguk, numb feet rooted to concrete, tongue dry as it stuck to the roof of your mouth. The tingling prick in your hands fumbled your phone from your back pocket and your conscience blanked on the contents of the email notification and the celebration emojis Taehyung had texted you.

You only moved when the last of the students were five stairs down from you, taking each individual step at a pause of thirty seconds or more. You fumbled your phone again, ignoring Jeongguk’s found the car, Tae is driving so we’ll be there….at some point to switch to Yoongi’s text thread.

You nearly face planted the last three stairs in the rush to exit out of his messages when the rise of typing bubbles appeared.

Give me ten minutes. I’ll meet you out in the hallway.

You recovered your steps in favor of rolling your eyes at the basketball emoticon Yoongi sent next, followed by a thumbs up.

Hallway was a broad statement and your nerves were timing the ten minutes to the millisecond, shoes scuffing your way about cleaners and those left scraping up forgotten nacho cheese in the concession stands and alumni donors with grey hair and sweater vests milling in front of exit signs while brake lights and the glow from campus fuzzed through glazed glass behind their statures.

It was five minutes into your adventure when you found tile becoming hardwood and you were on the outer edge of the floor, various assistants and managers and fans still milling about as the sound echoing off the polished wood became barely a fraction of what it had been amist another win. There was a wide opening just underneath the goal closest to you, the hallway to the locker room, one that a uniformed officer faithfully guarded with a shoulder against the concrete and his nose scrunched at his phone.

Your joints were two conscious steps into scurrying back off the floor when the loud sound of shoes slapping against the floor directly preceded the call of your name and the jerk of the officer’s attention.

Park Jimin was draped in light grey on light grey, a black duffle bag tucked under his arm, dark hair wet and dripping and pasted to his smiling cheeks as the shine of his crescent eyes slowly grew closer.

Park Jimin was calling your name and running at you.

And waving at you too, technically.

His footsteps went from slapping advances to gliding precision, stopping in front of you with a delighted giggle.

“Hi!” Jimin’s voice was higher than you remembered from his half attempt at amending his friend’s actions months ago, but endearing nonetheless as his eyes crinkled around the edges and he chirped, “You’re meeting Yoongi after, right?”

You wet your lips, cheeks hot, “I-I, yeah, yeah I think so.”

The man in front of you giggled again and then there was a gentle hand clasped around yours, gleefully dragging you toward the tunnel he’d game from, “I know so. C’mon, I’ll take you back.”

“I can really wait out here—”

The officer barely looked up as Jimin bounced past and he winked at you over his shoulder, “It’ll be fine, babe, trust me.”

He led you around a confusing maze of hallways, all decorated in jerseys of past players and painted numbers of current players, colored in the hues of the university and screaming more school spirit than you cared to have until you graduated. He dropped your hand in the middle of a long hallway, grey carpet wiry below your shoes, the cinder block walls on either side of you painted an obnoxious color that dizzied your nerves into another unintentional spiral.

“Here good?” Jimin barely paused a beat for an answer before nodding, “He should be out any second.”

You nodded, shoulder blades hitting the slick paint of the wall with a genuine but tight smile, “Thank you, Jimin.”

“Of course!” He heaved his bag under his arm, shooting you another charming smile complete with disappearing brown irises, “Have fun!”

You’d lost track of your timer on account of Park Jimin but you assumed it was somewhere near five minutes over. A man passed by, black polo tucked into beige dress pants with a laminated badge clipped to his belt, one who barely passed a glance in your direction. Another, one around your age but sporting the same uniform dragging a cart of dirtied white towels behind him. You relaxed with each individual that offered you a familiar smile but tensed with each person that wasn’t Yoongi.

You checked your phone three times. Nothing new until the fourth time when Jeongguk called you. You sent it to voicemail and lied about finding someone that was in one of your classes that was going to take you home.

But I may need you later.

You smiled at Jeongguk’s eye roll emoji and you could hear the textual version of his always here.

Taehyung says he is too.

At ten minutes you were lost in a turnoff from the hall Jimin had left you in, intentions faltering from finding Yoongi to bite the cocky smirk from his features to slap it away, thoughts swirling from anxious excitement to jump to the first horrible conclusion. That he hadn’t wanted to meet you, that he’d recruited Jimin in on his plan, that he was standing you up and would effectively get you dragged out and banned from any further athletic event from wandering around in unauthorized territory, that he didn’t actually like you at all really, that he was still the same asshole you’d vehemently harbored a distaste for.

The maze had deposited you back out to the tunnel of the court, one that was nearly void of leftover individuals now, just a student manager and the child of an assistant coach dribbling a tattered basketball off their tiny feet. You set your shoulders, willing to walk the miles off campus in the rain to your apartment to spare some of your pride.

Your surroundings whirled when you took a step forward only to be shuffled backward by an arm looping around your waist. A tiny mewl of protest died in your throat when your hips were twisted around to meet the soft pair of brown eyes that had been imprinted to the back of your eyelids for longer than you cared to admit to yourself let alone out loud.

“Hey,” Yoongi’s thumb brushed your hip and he tilted his head, “Jimin told me he left you back by the locker room but then I couldn’t find you…”

“I went looking for you after twenty minutes. You told me ten.”

“You were timing me?”

“I didn’t think you were coming.”

“I thought you left.”

He laughed first, second arm joining the one snug at the high rise of your waist to draw you against his chest. You laughed too, cheek settled against his shoulder.

“We’ll figure it out,” Yoongi mumbled, lips at your forehead.

You sighed and it was an unconscious brush of your lips against his neck that prompted a purposeful press of your mouth, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” He drew back from you and you reveled in the blush pink that dusted his cheeks from the promise of your lips against his neck. “Did you enjoy the game?”

Your inhale was audible, mostly due to the endearing puff of his cheeks that you wanted to prod at, nose wrinkling enough to make the freckle dotted on the side prominent enough to round your lips over, soft coffee eyes defined on the edges of their gentle unwavering, bleached white drying on the ends in silky pleats begging for the thread of your fingers, petaled mouth a pretty heart that your lips tingled to meet.

“You played well…”

Yoongi hummed, following the drop of your gaze from his lips back to his eyes. The arms on your waist bracketed you to the far wall, the tip of his nose twisting against yours when he his chin twitched to the side, “Yeah?”

Your grip rounded the veins that crossed up the bend of his elbow, anchoring yourself by touching him. “Always.”

His thumbs nudged upward on the hem of your hoodie, nose slotting against your cheek as he peered at the bare skin under calloused fingertips, “I’ll find you something of mine to wear next game. If you want—” His lips touched the corner of your mouth, “—...my good luck charm.”

“You lost with me present though.”

The softness of brewed caramel hardened a bit, bottom lip nudging your cupid’s bow when Yoongi’s gaze shot up, jaw clenching when he rasped, “Watch it, angel.”

You dragged blunt fingernails up his biceps, “Too soon?”

Yoongi shut you up with his tongue between the seam of your lips, hands rounding the curve of your waist so that your hoodie pooled around his wrists, rings cool against your skin as opposed to freshly showered flesh of his palms.

“Ready to go?” He taunted after his teeth had snagged at your bottom lip and nipped at the corner of your jaw.

“I heard it’s raining...”

Yoongi left where he’d been painting a mark on the column of your throat, lips brushing your ear.

“Happen to have an umbrella handy?”

[mesmeret]

Femlux: The Rise and Fall of E-Girl Hux

Inspired by a tweet from starsshine77  Fem!Kylo and Fem!Hux with catfishing, internet trolling, Diva Hux, and crybaby Kylo.

Still thinking of e-girl troll Hux. She has a vid of her wearing novelty vampire teeth and chewing on strawberries. She looks all innocent despite posing in her dark corner set up wearing a blood soaked dress. The caption says "i wuv vegans uwu save the earth!"

She composes these videos wanting to shock and confuse as many people as possible. She loves the high.

Kylo knew her in the K-8 private school they went to. Kylo had been in awe of the snooty older girl. When Kylo got her first laptop, she started following Hux's descent into trolling and performative arts. Hux would talk on her blog about how much she loved going to school wearing a normie flesh suit and then shedding it after school.

When Hux went to college for her MBA, she wasn't very active online. Kylo was dismayed but kept checking her blog. When Kylo is 19, Hux posts that she's starting a makeup and fashion channel. Kylo is startled to see that all of Hux's old internet presence is gone. Kylo was glad she saved all of the photos to a hard drive to prove that those years existed.

Kylo is Hux's first subscriber. She's so embarrassed thinking Hux is going to show up and confront her about it. But nothing happens.

Kylo works at a cafe while going to community college while Hux is making herself look like a living doll. The 24 yo doesn't say much about her life. Just off hand comments like:

"This mascara really stays on when you cry in the toilets at work."

"Sometimes you have to wear a mask around men."

"I hate the New York stench. So I use this perfume."

Kylo's pillows get two spurts of the perfume each week.

It's around this time Kylo realizes she's in love. She feels silly that she hadn't noticed it earlier, but she's always been slow.

Hux posts a video about once every two weeks. Kylo watches and studies each one voraciously. Hux slowly goes back to her cynical, dark self. Kylo missed it dearly while others find it disturbing.

Hux offers livestreams and Kylo rearranges her work schedule to attend with an alternate account. In Kylo's rush, she chose a very fit male torso as her profile pic.

The livestream is a shit show. Chat is accusing Hux of things while Hux slings insults at them. The service ends the stream and bans Hux.

Hux's next yt video does not mention the stream at all. She's chipper and cheeky as she does a clothes haul. Kylo is in awe. If she was in Hux's position, she'd have to be institutionalized for severe depression. Instead Hux is beaming at the camera saying the day's date and how much she loves this day. Kylo wonders why and goes down a rabbit hole to discover Mr. Hux passed away last year due to a heart attack.

Kylo uses her alt account and DMs Hux that she loves her smile. Kylo stares at the screen in shock that she sent the message. But she did.

Two hours later, Hux writes back with 'I give you something to smile about, fuckwad.'

Kylo types lightning fast before fully comprehending Hux's words, 'Oh yes please do.'

A couple minutes later, 'For real?'

Kylo bites her lip, 'Please.'

They fall into a weird pattern of Kylo complementing Hux and Hux replying in insults.

As Kylo turns 21, Hux becomes an overnight sensation on a viral platform. Kylo is wrapping up her accounting bachelors degree and nearly fails her midterms due to watching Hux's daily vids.

Their routine takes another turn when Hux starts sending Kylo photos of outfits. Hux would rarely wear the ones Kylo picked.

After a stressful day, Kylo is thrilled to see Hux wearing the checkered bra peaking out of a tight black body suit. 'Thank you. You made my day.'

Hux responds with a puke emoji and a very suggestive pic of the body suit unzipped. Her pale belly glowed. Kylo wrote back, 'My whole year is made. Beautiful. Thank you.'

Hux doesn't reply until next week.

Hux becomes a global phenomenon. Kylo is worried. She catches herself wanting to type 'are you okay?' But doesn't feel like it's her place.

Then the joke that got out of hand happens the next year.

Kylo's alternate account became a true catfish in order to be a top tier patron of Hux.

Kylo declines the video chat perks but wants the bathwater.

------

Hux's life sucks. She's never been happy. Never even had the chance to recognize it, really. She liked things but would get bored or hurt sooner than later.

It was weird that some girl from her hometown became her number one fan. Hux had no idea until a year into talking with Kylo in her DMs. She was stupidly catching feelings for this supposed guy who was nothing but supportive and kind to her. She wanted to know who he was, but he was very shy and declined to answer.

She had been partying after big sale with the sales team when she bumped into a guy that recognized her from the internet. He simpered at how amazingly scary she was. Intrigued, she got to know that he worked at a background company. She offered to use him if he gave her the info on this Kylo Ren guy.

It was nice to vent her frustrations of being catfished on the guy. Mitch was his name? She never saw him again since the morning after.

But she couldn't confront the weird goth girl from her hometown. Hux liked the compliments too much. They kept her going.

And as her corporate job found out her internet life along with the rest of the world, she needed Kylo desperately.

The suggestive photo was a shot in the dark. She had no idea if Kylo saw her as a gal pal or a /gal pal/. Hux returned to their hometown to see Kylo from a far after the Beautiful comment. Hux was stunned to see how tall Kylo is.

Kylo's social media only had two photos of herself. One of her at High school graduation and another of her tagged in her mom's second marriage. The former photo was her at a distance walking up to receive her diploma and the other was her sitting uncomfortably.

Hux couldn't enter the cafe. Kylo's snaggle tooth smile as two kids ordered something made Hux feel like the Grinch. She turned around and stomped back to her rental car feeling like an idiot.

It lessened when she got her first brand deal the next day. Money is one hell of an aphrodisiac.

Then the bathwater...

...and Kylo pouring it down her ample cleavage. The water shimmered down the sloping belly with the filter Kylo was using. It joined the rest of the frothy bathwater. Hux was bummed Kylo's mound was hidden below the surface.

'Now that's some bathwater I could drink for days.'

She smirked at Kylo's reply: 'I am so sorry for lying to you all this time. I didn't know it would ever get this far. Please don't hate me!'

'Sweetie, I just told you I'd drink your bathwater. I like you. You're sexy af.'

'Oh. Uh, thanks. You, too.'

'I knew who you were for a while.'

'Oh! Wow. Would you prefer if I was a guy?'

'No. Never.'

Hux frowned as twenty minutes went by, 'You good?'

'Yeah, I was crying. You're so special to me.'

Hux felt flushed instead of her usual reaction of 'Oh, get over it.' Kylo was genuine.

As Hux's businesses crumbled due to a volley of harassment and misconceptions, she knew she had a golden parachute. She cut her hair to a severe pixie cut after finalizing her business arrangements. She packed up her condo the next day and put it on the market the following day.

She rented a car on the fourth day and drove back to her hometown with her favorite clothes. Kylo was unaware of what she was up to and was sending sweet words of encouragement three times a day.

Hux pulls into Kylo's apartment complex feeling dead tired. But she wants this moment to be truly special. So she changes into an outfit that Kylo loved. Her strawberry school girl outfit, her orange tabby cat ears, and her pink faux fur coat. Her feet hurt too much for heels and she wants to enjoy Kylo's extra height. She grabs two of her suitcases and heads up to Kylo's apartment. Taking a deep breath, she knocks.

Kylo answers the door in a sports bra and pj pants. She stares at Hux dumbfounded before squeaking a hello. Hux sighs, "If you don't hug me in the next-"

Kylo pulls her into a hug and Hux hums appreciating their height difference. Kylo's chest feels just right against her own and Kylo's hands are so big!

"Wait a minute... why do you smell like my old perfume?"

Kylo blushes, "I, um... been following you for a while?"

Hux nods slowly before getting her voice back, "Well, now you won't need to follow me. I'm moving in."

Kylo pulls away trying to form words for a moment, "Really?!"

"Deadly," Hux gestures at her suitcases. "I've got four more in the car."

Kylo turns away but can't hide the sobs. Hux feels a wave of discomfort and has no idea what to do.

"I, uh, will get my things?"

Kylo looks over her shoulder, "Y-yeah, I'll go clean things up for you in the guest room."

Hux's stomach drops but Kylo hadn't rejected her completely.

When she has all six suitcases and two boxes of shoes in the living room, Kylo is crying silently while making pasta. "You can put your stuff in the room to the left. I'm making cheesy pasta for dinner. That works for you?"

Hux almost objected but remembered she doesn't have to maintain her skin anymore, "Sounds good."

She moves her clothes and sees the guest bed is a twin with Wonder Woman sheets. The primary colors are bold. Not at all Hux's aesthetic. But she wasn't going to complain. Instead she threw her pink coat over the coverlet. She went back to the kitchen area where Kylo was still crying.

"Allergies?" Hux asked.

"No. You're here and it's so amazing. Wow," Kylo sighs taking Hux in. Her nose and cheeks were exactly what Hux and all the other e-girls were trying to achieve. "You're here."

"For good. Had to liquidate everything. No more internet for me," Hux threw her hands up.

Kylo blinked, "Are you in danger? I, um, saw what those guys tried to do..."

Hux shook her head, "Nah, I'm gonna go by my real mother's surname and get used to people calling me Armie."

Kylo nods and pours pasta into the boiling water. Hux moves closer, "Like my hair?"

Kylo startles but nods, "Can I touch?"

Hux nods back and removes the cat ears. Kylo smiles shyly as she runs her hand through Hux's short hair. Hux mumbles, "Sorry you weren't able to feel it when it was long."

Kylo blushed, "It makes your cheek bones amazing."

Hux wants to blurt out 'Kiss them! Kiss me!' But Kylo is already awkwardly kissing her. Hux has to tilt her head up slightly and takes advantage of her balance slip to hold onto Kylo's broad hips. Kylo kisses her slowly, gently but commanding. Hux has to follow. There's no wiggle room like with everyone else. She started shifting her hips feeling arousal burn deep. Kylo pulls away with a satisfied sigh before stirring the pasta. Hux bit her lip. She wasn't going to scream. Her stomach was perking up after the long day of packing and driving.

Kylo wordlessly guided them to the couch with two heaping bowls of cheesy pasta. Kylo kissed her forehead before whispering, "Water okay?"

Hux nodded and watched Kylo's backside jiggle slightly with each step.

They kissed each other good night two hours later. Kylo tried to give Hux the wi-fi pw but Hux declined. She had gotten rid of her phone, iPad, and laptop. Kylo had squeezed her hand and told her things would get better.

Hux believed her. Especially when they ended up in Kylo's bed the next night. They hadn't done anything more than cuddling and kissing before falling asleep. The next day, Hux's new accounts were open with the money she was able to move from her past. She could've easily lived the rest of her life on the money. But Kylo's CPA study books caught her eye. She had a MBA with a focus on finances. When Kylo came home that day, Hux announced they were going to be accountants together. Her money could be put towards their business rent. Kylo cried for an hour before she could speak in clear sentences. Hux petted her hair while watching TV.

"That would be pretty fucking awesome, Hux," Kylo whispers.

Hux smiles, "I know."

Kylo sits up and wipes her face before kissing Hux, "Does mean you'll have to interact with people and be on the internet."

Hux shrugs, "Numbers are concise aside from human error."

Kylo's smile grows, "Fucking nerd."

Hux giggles, "Yes, fuck this nerd."

[stilesedit]

do you have any tips for coloring gifs where the skin doesn’t turn orange once posted on tumblr? :))

sorry, what do you mean by “once posted on tumblr”? if your gif looks drastically different in photoshop than it does when uploaded to tumblr, then there’s something going on either in the save settings (in which case i can’t really help u cuz i dont know anything about that), or in the color settings of your computer (when i bought a new laptop i had to fuck with the color settings by holding my iphone up against the screen to match the colors on my gifs lkdjgkjlsdhg) BUT you said “once posted on tumblr” so........... do you mean they look one way when they’re in your drafts, but then the color changes when you publish the post? if you haven’t tried drafting something before, try that first and see what it looks like compared to what it looks like in photoshop. if that is in fact what you mean, then i’m afraid i can’t help you cuz i don’t really know what the fuck is going on. to keep skin tone from turning orange use the color balance and selective color tools to tone down reds and yellows.

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Twenty Two, “Don’t Let Me Go”

Hi!!!! Wow, long time no see. Somehow the writing bug bit me again and I finished up this chapter. I hope to post some another one for you guys soon, but (as you know) unfortunately I don’t know. Life has just been so busy the last few years and writing hasn’t been interesting to me or it’s just dropped as a priority. There are no words for how sorry I am to leave you guys hanging with this story.... I hope I can keep posting chapters for you guys, even if it’s off and on. I hope that some of you are still around and will see this chapter, and that you’ll like it. I’d love to hear what you think :) 

“Y-you did all of this?” I ask, pointing at the food, the streamers hanging from the ceiling, my favorite music falling from the speakers, my favorite foods donning the tables in the corner, and so on and so forth.

“Who d’ya think did it?” he laughs, giving me a fake glare. I barely have time to laugh with him when people start clinking their solo cups with plastic spoons and shouting “speech, speech, speech” over and over with their eyes on Harry.

I find myself chanting along with them as his cheeks fill with the color of roses. “Alright, alright, calm down ya crazy lot,” he shouts, dimples drilling into his cheeks as he uses his arms to tell them to quiet down. “I didn’ really prepare a speech, but fine, I guess you lot will get one. Fuck, where do I even start?” he titters, and so does everybody else at his choice of words.

Harry thumbs at his bottom lip as he stares off into the distance before his eyes float over to me and glue themselves there. “Becky, or as I like to fondly call her, Becks, I dunno where to even begin with you, love . . Never have I had a personal assistant like you. There’s never been one like you, Becks. Yer one of a kind and nobody could ever replace you.”

Briiiiiiing!

“Styles and Lawson, this is Rebecca,” I chime, finding it hard to hold in a sigh as I play the fake cheerful card. And boy do I try to believe it, too.

"Hi yes, I’m calling about . . . ,” the shrill voice belonging to an old granny spills into my ears. I grudgingly reply and transfer them to the right department that they should have called in the first place. Sigh.

My fingers return to the keyboard of my laptop and glide across the keys. I pick up where I left off from the middle of the sentence. The sentence I was interrupted in the middle of.

“I need copies o’ these,” a voice rasps, before I hear a definite clud. I look up to find a pair of tired green eyes belonging to Harry. They disappear in a flash when he turns his back, walking away without another word. With a huff, I reach over to grab the small stack of law books and documents, post-its spanning the color of the rainbow sticking out to mark pages.

+

Beep.

I tap my finger along the screen, first entering Harry’s code. Welcome, Harry, it reads. I press OK and ignore the many options, and instead select Copy. After selecting what I need, I tap the green button and wait for the whirring of the printer.

Ten minutes and many copies later, I plant the last post it on a stack of copies of Chapter 10 from Law’s Empire. After rearranging the stacks in alternating directions in one big stack, I settle the hefty pile in my arms before turning around.

I nearly lose it when I turn around. Harry stands mere inches in front of me, floating into the room unannounced like a ghost. And in my fright, my arms do a weird thing out of my control. In staggering slow motion, dozens upon dozens of papers jump into the air.

Suddenly, my vision speeds up to the present. I groan loudly at the mess of papers lying on our feet all over the floor.

“‘m sorry, didn’ mean t’ scare ya, love,” Harry comments softly. He falls to his knees as he gathers a handful of paper. “Here, lemme help you.”

“I’m fine, I got it,” I reply, grabbing a piece of paper with an orange post-it. “Did you need something?”

“What?”

“Well, you were standing two inches away from my face when I turned around. It kind of implies that you need something,” I say, starting to recognize some similar papers. I begin to make stacks of the familiar pages.

Law’s Empire. A History of British Law. Pages from a file on somebody named  Harrows.

The reason is fleeting me, but I look up briefly to find his head bent down as he gathers papers together in a uniform stack. The pause rouses him and he looks up too. I tear my eyes away after only a few seconds of eye contact. A chilling silence fills the space between us, often interrupted by the sound of shuffling paper and the almost quiet ticking of the clock.

Maybe minutes later, my five stacks are growing higher along with his. I start to see the tile floor that I had forgotten was there.

“I wanted t’ talk t’ you.”

“Of course,” I almost retort in a mutter, setting aside a copy of page 489 from The Infamous Case.

A syllable falls from his lips, but it stops there and I try to ignore it.

The stack for Dallow vs. Emprise Inc. has nearly doubled in size by the time he speaks again.

“Why can’ we talk ‘bout what happened?”

“Because, Harry, there’s nothing for us to talk about,” I answer, picking up copies from the Harrows stack and clinking them against my thighs to straighten them out.

“Becks,” he almost pleads by the sound of it, and it catches my attention. I’m coming to hate that name, with how much it’s been battered and abused.

“It’s over, Harry, just drop it. Please.”

“No, I don’ wanna drop it, Becks. ‘s not over.”

After sorting through a good two dozen papers I pick up another, leaving only a handful or so left. Thank God, then maybe I can get out of here.

“Yes, it is, Harry. Stop it.”

“Why?” he retorts through gritted teeth.

He pushes his stacks into the middle.

“Because it was over the second you didn’t try to give me the benefit of the doubt,” I say curtly, staring down at his messy stacks that I combine with mine. Throwing caution out the window, I put them all into one stack that I hug to my chest as I get to my feet.

Finally, I meet his eyes as our shoes squeak against the tiles. He stands between me and my way out. A synonym to sadness tugs at his eyes. His red rose lips pout out of the corner of my eye.

The door clicks behind me with a definite thud as I make my escape.

I have to push away my disappointment when I don’t hear the clud of his footsteps coming after me.

+

It pains me to wrap my fingers around that handle. I feel a pang seeing his desk and all of his familiar furniture and books. It hurts, even more, to look at his leather couch and see where we sat at each end on late nights. Boxes of takeaway and empty beer bottles would sit on the carpet nearby. Our laughs floating around the room and filling the empty cracks in the walls. And the empty parts of my heart. Maybe even his.

My feet hardly budge from his doorway. I drag them across the room and over to his desk. My eyes land on the scattered mess atop it. Papers. Empty mugs. Forgotten pens. Hastily written notes. I juggle the stack of papers back and forth, trying to find an empty space for them where they won’t get lost. My eyes catch the dark wooden frame beside his phone. His dimpled cheeks and sparkling eyes smile at me from a picture. Next to the excited smile and fake blonde head of hair called his girlfriend. Amber.

“I coulda taken those,” a voice speaks from behind me. I jump at the sound of his voice. Once again, it’s as if he floated into the room without a squeak.

Gulp.

I pick a spot and drop the papers there. Turning around, her perfect smile and perfect face stare at me out of the corner of my vision. Touching my hair nervously, I find him standing in his doorway looking lost. Nervous. A question sits on his face. The way he looks at me is as if he wishes for me to answer it. I look down quickly as thoughts storm through my brain. I strive for the calm after the storm, and I know the only way that’ll happen.  

I lift my head, and it finally feels clear for a moment. I meet his eyes and nervously lock gazes.

“Consider this my two week’s notice. I’ll help you find a replacement for me. I’ll train them in and I’ll finish up what I’m doing, but then I’m gone,” I announce suddenly. I wish for my voice to sound balanced and confident, but I’m almost sure it’s the polar opposite.

His eyebrows raise as if controlled by a puppeteer, and his jaw drops nearly in sync. No words fall from his mouth, but I see question after question blossoming behind his big eyes.

The storm behind mine rages and howls as I walk past him. Now it’s my turn to float away like a ghost. If only I could turn invisible, too. And maybe haunt a person or two, like a certain somebody’s girlfriend.

+

The rest of the week drags on slowly. Rain plagues the city and puddles litter the sidewalks everywhere I go. I count the days until I can leave and call this time in my life a stupid mistake of the past. But the days can’t go fast enough, and with the incessant rain, they only seem to go by slower. The jumbled mess in my head only grows worse, too. The dread. The slight excitement. The relief. The confliction. The sadness. The feeling of being lost. The wondering of what the hell I’ll do next.

Another storm rumbles overhead amidst the beeps and whirring of the elevator. Finally, the red number reaches 17 and the silver doors part. I’m bombarded by the sounds of the seventeenth floor. Chatter. Typing. Phones ringing. It’s not long before it blends into the background, just like any other day.

One week down, one left to go. My Monday is slow and I’m quickly reminded of my restless sleep from the night before.

Caffeine is my saving grace throughout the day that seems like it’ll never end. First, the copier won’t work. Then I get an earful from some stranger on the phone. Next, I realized I forgot my lunch at home. To top it all off, Harry is in a disastrous mood. This last one is by far the worst as if the others weren’t bad enough.

“Wha’s this I hear ‘bout you hangin’ up on people?” a voice rasps from behind me. The four numbers unique to me show on the screen of the kiosk before I hit enter.

“I’m on my lunch break, I’m not working right now,” I reply, walking away and towards the fridge with the hopes I’ll find something forgiving there.

“I don’ care if yer on yer lunch break, or if yer off for tha day. I wann’ talk t’ you,” Harry retorts. I resist rolling my eyes at his remark as my eyes search the shelves of the fridge. The barren shelves.

“Then what do you want?” I huff, turning to face him as the refrigerator door closes with a soft thud.

“First, yer hangin’ up on people, then sumbody called t’ tell me that ya messed up their appointment with me, and lastly I still haven’ gotten tha copies I asked for at nine this morning?” he continues, holding out his ringed fingers and using them to count. He holds up three of his fingers and waves them in the air. As if I don’t know how to count, too. “What, are ya tryin’ to make yer last two weeks hell for tha both of us?”

“No.”

“Well, it sure fookin’ seems like it. What, have ya just given up halfway in? Ya still got anotha week left ya know, a week that still requires you t’ do yer job. And train yer replacement in, but ya seemed t’ forget that part haven’t ya, considerin’ ya’ve still failed t’ find one?” Harry goes on, poking at the ticking time bomb inside of my chest. The anger pumping through my veins goes a little quicker with every word that falls from his lips.

“Fuck off,” I tell him, pronouncing every syllable clearly and slowly.

His green eyes expand in a second flat and instantly regret fills me with a sick feeling. But then the anger returns and my heart starts racing.

“Excuse me? What makes ya think ya can talk t’ me like that? ‘m still yer boss, don’ bloody forget that,” Harry says, his voice rising as he wags a finger at me. Annoyance and anger knits his eyebrows together.

Fear surges into my veins and suddenly I’m tired. My stomach growls, yelling at me to feed it so it won’t be empty anymore. But I couldn’t find five minutes this morning to order something, and I’ve had enough of the rain that the last thing I want to do is step back into it before I absolutely have to.

“Please, just stop. I’m sorry, okay?” I sigh, my voice threatening to break on the last syllable. Suddenly, his features soften and the real Harry peaks out at me from the cracks.

“Becks, I’m sorry, too. I know ‘s not an excuse, but ‘ve been having a hard time lately. ‘s been so hard t’ try and find a replacement tha’s even half as good as you. I jus’ wish we could talk ‘bout this more, and that you could stay. Please, Becks, ‘ll do anything,” Harry says quietly. His voice leaks of pleading and honesty - two things I haven’t seen in a long time.

My shoulders threaten to fall with a loose shrug, but I stop them before they can. I gulp past the knot in my throat and force myself not to give in. A flicker of movement behind him catches my eye, and I look over briefly to see what it was. The door opens and in walks Asher with two brown paper bags clutched in his hands and a question painting his face.

“No, Harry. My mind is made up, I’m leaving. I spoke with somebody who sounds like they’d be a good fit - she’s coming in tomorrow,” I say softly, defeat tugging at the corners of my voice but the edge sticks. And so does my decision.

I walk away after the last word hits the air before he can say anything else. The smell of greasy fish and chips tempts my taste buds as I near Asher.

He flashes me a small smile before whispering, “are you okay?” as he turns to follow me out the door. I nod ‘yes’ and take the bag he holds out towards me.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

A microwavable cup of oatmeal. Picking titles off Harry’s bookshelves and making copies at his request, over and over. Then putting them back where they were, in alphabetical order by title. Picking up his newest dry cleaning. Taking care of his shopping lists. The next mornings consisted of this. Oh, and ordering take away because guess who was too busy again to make herself lunch?

“Hello, is anybody home in there?” somebody says. I jump a few inches off of my seat and jerk my head up to see who’s talking to me. Harry. With his large hands resting on the edge of my desk. Wrinkling papers and pushing things around. “You okay, love? You look a little down, and tired, and-.”

“Okay, I get it. I don’t look the best. Noted,” I reply, looking away from him and to my computer.

“I-I didn’ mean it that way . . Really, are you sure yer okay, Becks? Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything is fine, thanks.”

“Okay, if you insist,” he replies. He finally lifts his hands from my desk and makes it look like he’s going to leave. But he doesn’t. He continues to stand there and look at me, awkwardly.

“Um, can I help you with something?” I ask him, holding my hand out before I rest my chin in my palm.

It takes him a short moment to collect his thoughts. But then after looking around mindlessly his eyes return to me. “Ya know if ya need a letter of recommendation or something, I’d be glad t’ write one for ya. Unless ya’ve already found a job and ‘m saying this kind late . . I mean if yer looking for another personal assistant job which whoever that’s for they’re tha luckiest in tha world,” Harry goes on. He talks like he’s never going to stop, but I wouldn’t put it past him. “Have ya already found a new job?”

“No, I uh haven’t. But I’m working on it,” I reply. I awkwardly meet his eyes that gently look back into mine. An unwelcome thought creeps in through a crack in my reserve, and there I am feeling the weight of its words.

If only things could always be easy like this and he could be easy like this then I wouldn’t be looking for another job. But they’re not.

“Good. ‘m sure you’ll find something great, whatever it is ya choose. Anybody will be lucky t’ have you,” he rambles on quietly. The tension in the air grows and I suddenly wish this conversation was over minutes ago. “Ya wouldn’ ever go and work for Tomlinson or the bloody Scotts-.”

“No no, of course not. I’d never do that to you,” I reply quickly. A quick smile flashes across his face and a blush pinches his cheeks.

“Yeah yeah, I know. I didn’ want it t’ seem like I thought you would, but-.”

“I know, Harry. It’s ok,” I tell him softly. Now it’s my turn to smile, or the best I can try.

“Y-you’ll be ok?” Harry says slowly, thumbing at his bottom lip. The question catches me off guard, and I look away from the feeling in his eyes. I can’t handle it. This is already hard enough, and the two weeks isn’t even up.

I clear my throat and pull my head back up to look at him. I nod at his question and his head moves a little too. He bites at his bottom lip and turns his eyes away.

“You have an appointment later with Judge O’Connell at 3, and then the new prospect, Amelia Jones, should be here in fifteen to interview,” I say quickly so as to avoid any more sappy talk. But I quickly regret it, because knowing Harry it’ll be another few days until another moment like this.

And I only have six left, counting today. Six days to figure everything out, and to let him go. As if I could do that.

+

“So. . ,” he rasps as the hum of the heating fills my ears after the previously incessant chatter.

“What?” I ask softly, tearing my gaze from the wall to Harry’s inquisitive eyes that search for mine.

“What did ya think of her?” he continues, speaking with his expressive eyebrows that climb up his forehead. The pen in his hand ventures out towards me in question before it returns to its stay between his teeth.

“She was good, probably the best one yet,” I admit hesitantly, looking down at my clipboard holding an interview sheet similar to the one in his lap. She checked nearly all of the boxes, and the one’s she missed were miniscule. Insignificant. She’s damn near perfect. I hate it.

“She was better than good, she was bloody great,” he nearly sings with a giddy smile, and I find it tugging at my heart. I shouldn’t feel resentment and jealousy when I’m the one choosing to leave, but this whole situation is wrong and nontraditional so what’s one more thing then? “I think ‘ll hire her. What d’ya think?”

“Go ahead, you’re the boss,” I reply, standing from my chair and stretching my arms above my head. Images of her flame-like curls pop into my head along with her piercing jade eyes and beautiful laugh that put a spark in Harry’s eyes.

“Becks,” Harry begins as I shake my head with the hopes the motion will break up the unpleasant thoughts enough to make them turn into dust and blow away. And maybe to get him to stop calling me that, too. If only it were that easy. “I want yer opinion. If ya don’ think she’s good enuff, tell me.”

“She’s great, Harry, she’s more than good enough. She said so herself that she’s willing to learn and has some similar job experience. I’ll give her a call and tell her she can start training tomorrow,” I respond, turning my head to meet his eyes briefly before I head for the door and out of this painful moment.

“Ya know, you can still change yer mind . . ,” he blurts, his words rooting me to the spot but persuading me to do the opposite.

“Harry, please don’t. What’s done is done.”

“We can still talk ‘bout this,” he starts, but I don’t let him finish.

“No, we can’t,” I retort, whipping around to meet his eyes begging for mine. “And you know exactly why, Harry. It was your choice, not mine.”

If he said something, I didn’t hear it. I’m passing the threshold and out the door before he has the chance to speak and before I have the chance to. There’s so much I want to say, but I don’t know if I’ll ever know how to.

+

Beep.

The elevator climbs another floor and when I look up I’ve arrived at floor 17, for the last time. My first time being just a few short months ago, although it’s felt far longer. Nothing has really changed besides the newness of the place fading away, and the redhead standing at my desk that’s almost her’s.

I walk to the break room to clock in for the last time. I hear voices spilling out of the cracked door before I even enter.

“I think she’s the longest one he’s kept around,” a man’s voice remarks.

“I’m glad he got rid of her, or whatever happened, ‘cuz this new one’s much better looking. I wouldn’t blame him if he slept with this assistant for real this time, heck maybe I will even,” his friend snickers beside him, their backs to me as they drop sugar cubes into their cups of tea with laughs.

“What, ya mean he didn’t sleep with this one already?” the first bloke asks with a soft laugh. The stirring of their spoons fills the short silences between their gossiping.

“No, he didn’t,” I announce loudly, and I watch one of their teas fall over and begin to coat the counter they stand at. They both face me with a “deer in the headlights” look before moving their feet as fast as they can to leave the scene of the crime.

“Ignore them,” a voice says behind me, and who I find to belong to my nearly only friend here.

“Easier said than done,” I reply, following him to the kiosk to clock in.

“How ya holdin’ up?” Asher asks, looking behind me after he puts his code in.

“I couldn’t even tell ya,” I confess as I punch my number in for one of the last times. I bring my eyes to meet his and I feel my lip wobble when our eyes connect.

He reaches out and wraps an arm around me, pulling me into his side.

“Come on now, don’t start crying because you’ll miss me too much,” he jokes as I nuzzle my head into his chest, my arms winding around his taut middle. I laugh with him as I swipe at a tear on my cheek.

“You’re the only one I’ll miss,” I tell him, looking up to find his eyes that are somewhere up there at the top of his lanky body.

“We both know that’s not true,” he whispers with a flick of his brow. I nod and return my cheek to his chest and give him a squeeze. “Go get ‘em, Tiger,” are the last words I hear from him with a wink and a toothy grin. Oh, Ash, what would I do without you?

“Good morning, Ms. Holte,” somebody says as my fingers leave the handle of the break room door.

“Oh hi, Amelia. How many times do I have to tell you to call me Becky?” I reply casually as I meet the eyes of Amelia Jones.

“Yes yes, of course, I’m sorry uh, Becky,” she says nervously, stumbling over her words and nearly her feet as we walk to my desk.

“It’s okay. How are you this morning? Do you think you’re almost ready to take over for me on Monday?” I ask her with a teasing tone, even though it’s the plain truth and a hard one to swallow.

“I think so, I just hope I can do as good of a job as you, Becky,” she replies with a sugary sweet smile.

I thank her before we start our day with her sitting at the desk and me sitting at the side now because this is how it’s going to be from now. I still can’t get used to it, even if all but a few of my personal effects are now replaced with her own. I gulp before forcing a smile and letting her begin.

“Lookin’ great this morning, ladies,” a familiar raspy voice chirps and I look up to see Harry coasting on by with a wink. I hope Amelia can get over her little crush before Monday because God knows that isn’t going to bode well. I should know.  

+

Mid morning I take a tea break as well as an Amelia break, because God, how can somebody be that happy all of the time? I drop a couple of sugar cubes into my tea and stir the spoon around, hearing its clinking and scraping as another sound interrupts my thoughts.

“Are you actually getting sad about leaving this job finally? I thought this was something you’ve wanted for a long time,” Asher’s sunshine voice mumbles from the doorway as he closes the door behind him.

“Yes and yes,” I reply with a small laugh and return my eyes to my cup of light brown tea.

“Ah, I knew it,” he responds, pointing a finger at me. He stops in front of me and leans against the countertop, looking around and behind him nervously. Asher wrings his hands together and nibbles his lip, things I’ve only seen him do when he has something on his mind.

“God, can’t anybody around here act normally today?” I huff before taking a cautionary sip, but it’s still too hot to drink quite yet. “I swear, Amelia is acting even more weird than usual. She kept having me help her with copies and scans, even though she nailed that the first day here, and then was talking secretively to Harry a lot. Then there’s Harry and Myles acting weird, I mean even Jennings is being nice to me today, and then there’s you acting like you’re being watched by the cops.”

“I am not acting weird!” he protests with a funny look, but I think we both know I don’t believe him for a second.

“Whatever, I’ll find out why soon enough,” I say, taking my cup of tea and leaving the breakroom to continue supervising Amelia even though she’s nailing every part of the job and she hasn’t even officially started. I’m not even gone from this job yet and I’m being shown up by my replacement. Ugh.

+

“Hey, Becky? . . Becky?” a voice speaks, interrupting my daydreaming.

“Uh yeah?” I say, spinning around to find Amelia standing in front of the desk. Now her desk. Her bangs crowd her eyes as she tightens the bow on her waist tying her wrap around violet dress that hugs her in all of the right places. She even has a better body than me, what the fuck.

“I uh t-told the client coming at noon that we’ll go a-and wait for them in the conference room, so um if you’re ready . . ,” she trails off, not knowing what to say next because she can hardly get out a full sentence as it is.

“Uh yeah, sure let’s go,” I say, getting to my feet. “There should be some notepads and pens in there. We’ll just do a preliminary consultation with them to see what kind of representation they would need from Harry, and also if their case would be up his alley,” I explain, and she nods fast as if I’ve already explained this before.

As she leads me away from the desk and down the hallway towards the conference room and the offices, I rack my brain wondering if I’ve already told her this. I’ve done this annoying repeating thing before already, and it’s embarrassing enough when she tells me that she knows because I’ve gone over it already. I don’t want it to happen again, especially in front of a client. I don’t know why I’m worrying about it anyways when it’s my last day here, I mean-

Amelia interrupts my inner monologue when she opens the door to the dark conference room and suddenly the lights turn on as the rest of my senses are bombarded.

“Surprise!” a mix of voices shout at me, freezing me in place. “Happy going away party, Becky!” my coworkers continue as they throw their arms in the air, confetti blowers popping, kazoos kazooing, and party hats atop their heads.

My mouth opens as if to speak, but the words run away from me as my cheeks pinch with a smile. “Oh my- I don’t know what to say. Um, wow thanks, everybody!” I beam with excitement and am suddenly overwhelmed with hugs from everybody and anybody from the firm - people I don’t think I’ve ever seen and others who I didn’t like and who didn’t like me, including “deer in the headlights” guys from this morning.

“I’m sorry, I hated to keep it from you, but I promised,” Asher says, finally coming to my rescue with a drink he shoves into my hand as he wraps me up in a warm hug.

“It’s okay, Ash, I guess I can let you off the hook,” I laugh as I hug him back.

“I’m really gonna miss you, ya know. I don’t know how I’m going to survive this shithole without you,” he continues, giving me a kiss on the head.

“Awww, Ash, don’t make me start crying again.”

“I know, I’m just so good at it,” he giggles with a wobbly voice, and I laugh too.

“Go have something to eat, but not that Jello salad Bitchy Trishie from IT brought. It’s probably poisoned with her spit or something,” he teases, and I smack his arm playfully as he walks away sticking his tongue out at me.

I laugh softly to myself before taking a drink from my cup of fruit punch, looking around at everybody milling around. Eating free food. Hugging one another. Laughing with each other. Talking with people they say they hate. And signing the poster board on the table by the food, writing fake messages to me that I’ll most likely read only once or never. I tsk when I see one of the most gossipy girls signing it, but as I turn my head to look away my vision is blessed with that of something else.

My lips spark with an instant smile that outdoes my surprise of just a few minutes ago. He sees me just a few seconds later, and a smile tugs his lips upwards effortlessly.

“What d’ya think, did I do a good job?” Harry asks as he stops in front of me, holding his arms out and my jaw drops in astonishment.

“Y-you did all of this?” I ask, pointing at the food, the streamers hanging from the ceiling, my favorite music falling from the speakers, my favorite foods donning the tables in the corner, and on and so forth. Okay, so maybe this isn’t so bad.

“Who d’ya think did it?” he laughs, giving me a fake glare. I barely have time to laugh with him when people start clinking their solo cups with plastic spoons - it’s an even more annoying sound than you would think - and shouting “speech, speech, speech” over and over with their eyes on Harry.

I find myself chanting along with them as his cheeks fill with the color of roses. “Alright, alright, calm down ya crazy lot,” he shouts, dimples drilling into his cheeks as he uses his arms to tell them to quiet down. “I didn’ really prepare a speech, but fine, I guess you lot will get one. Fuck, where do I even start?” he titters, and so does everybody else at his choice of words.

Harry thumbs at his bottom lip as he stares off into the distance before his eyes float over to me and glue themselves there. “Becky, or as I like to fondly call her, Becks, I dunno where to even begin with you, love . . Never have I had a personal assistant like you. No offense to you, Amelia darling, but there’s never been one like you, Becks. Yer one of a kind and nobody could ever replace you. Once again, no offense,” Harry continues, occasionally pointing at Amelia laughing and making her blush up, but nonetheless, she waves him away in response. “There aren’t even words that exist to describe you and how amazing you’ve been t’ me and tha firm, and I know because I went to uni and fucking law school so I know a lotta big words,” insert here a throaty laugh of Harry’s echoed by those of the room’s. “Yer a bloody angel with all the shit you put up with from me, from several coffee runs a day, to grocery runs, to dry cleaning runs, to going down to the creepy ass files room and wading through spider webs to find what I needed for my cases. You were my lucky charm, Becks, you were tha reason I won so many cases, ‘cuz if I didn’t have ya there checking me notes or making sure I did it all right, I dunno where Ida been without you. And ‘s safe t’ say I dunno where ‘ll be without you afta t’day, or tha firm for that matter. So thank you, thank you, and thank you a billion for all that ya did in yer short time here and I wish you tha best in tha future. I know yer gonna do bloody amazing things out in the world, I can’ wait t’ hear all ‘bout ‘em. I hope we’ll see you back out there in our li’l law world soon, I know you’d kill it,” Harry says, his voice cracking in places that pull tears from my eyes and down my cheeks. “I don’t care what any o’ these idiots say, ‘cuz nobody’s gonna miss you as much as ‘ll miss you,” he ends with tears threading through his words, jolting his voice to a stop.

The tears welling in his glassy eyes finally topple over and land on his cheeks, just as he steps forward to embrace me in a warm hug. My face goes into his chest and his chin rests atop my head, fitting together perfectly like a puzzle piece as our arms wind around one another. “I meant every word I said, Becks. I hope and pray ya’ll finish up school and fight our fight, cuz I know you’d kill the hell out of it . . If ya do, yer welcome back here, we’d be bloody lucky t’ have ya again. Anytime yer welcome, Becks . . . I really dunno what ‘ll do without ya here, I dunno ‘bout that Amelia . . ‘m so sorry about everything, Becks, you have no idea how sorry I am; it kills me every day,” Harry speaks into my hair, tears strangling his voice every few words. I sniffle against his chest, spilling tears there and he sniffles above me where he too spills them.

“I’m going to miss you more than I’d like to admit,” I confess into the collar of his silky mustard button down. “I won’t miss the midnight texts or 4 coffee runs a day,” I laugh and he does it with me. “Thank you, that all truly means a lot to me, Harry. I wish things didn’t have to end this way either . . but they do,” I finish, pulling away from him and looking him in the teary eyes briefly before severing the pain and wiping away the same from my cheeks.

I wish it didn’t have to be this way, either, but it has to be. But that’s your fault, Harry, not mine.

[dannyphantomisameme]

Lies (One Shot)

Genres: Drama and Comedy

(Links to Fanfiction and AO3)

"Dude hold still." Tucker fumbled with his PDA as he called out to Danny.

"Let's make this quick man." Danny replied. The trio stood in the Manson's backyard on a Saturday evening. The sun was slowly setting, halfway at the horizon, and the sky displayed vibrant colors of pink and orange. They had just finished their assignment for Lancer's class and as usual, the boys were goofing off.

"Ok, and…. Action!" Tucker called out. He was holding his PDA, recording their daily adventures. Danny stood off far in the distance near a tree as Sam sat on her patio overlooking the two boys.

Danny looked around and then shrugged while murmuring "guess I'll die". Suddenly, a bright white ring appeared at his waist and split into two vertically. His dark blue jeans and red and white plaid shirt was replaced by a black and white hazmat suit with neon green accents. He was floating in the air positioned in a typical fighting stance. The atmosphere around the iconic ghost boy became colder.

"CUT!" Tucker yelled and ran up to his best friend. The two high-fived and chuckled as Danny transformed back into his human form, his feet dropping to the ground. Sam face palmed from where she was. Idiots. They’re wasting my time. But then she smiled, ha, I still love these idiots nevertheless.

Sam stood up from her seat and shouted for the boys to come in. They ran up the stairs to the deck and entered back into her home. Sam was the richest person in Amity Park, other than the Fruitloop. They entered a modern kitchen, the black marble table tops matching the pristine white stove and refrigerator. Sam grabbed a vegetarian milkshake from the fridge and 2 soda's for the boys. She passed them over to them and they quickly popped the tabs, the fizzing sound filled the air.

"You guys are so stupid. We have another two hours to submit our video assignment for Lancer and I intend on it being in time." Sam pointed at the other two and they just snickered.

"Well, we may be stupid, but I want to remember the fun times Sam. And Tuck's video diary is the perfect way to record that stuff." Danny smiled his goofy lopsided grin. Gosh he's way too cute. WAIT, snap out of it Sam. He sipped a drink from his can and looked over at Tucker.

"I finished editing it anyways. We can go submit it on your laptop." Tuck said as he leaned back against the fridge door pointing at Sam.

"Ok, lets go to my room." Sam suggested, and they began to walk past the living room. They passed by Sam's grandma watching TV on the huge flat screen and greeted her. They walked step by step up the regal stairs, a grand glass chandelier hanging above their heads.

The walked past the multitude of doors, which contained gold engravings on their fronts to distinguish the rooms. They finally reached a black door and entered the huge gothic room. The walls were painted a dark maroon, filled with posters of bands, and a black four post bed stood in the center. A black dresser was placed off to the side as well as a matching desk. The purple curtains added a contrast to the maroon and black room. Sam's room was neat and organized, no doubt the work of her maid.

The trio plopped onto the bed, Tucker grabbed the laptop sitting on her comforter as Danny leaned back onto the pillows. Sam grabbed a pillow in the shape of a purple bat and hugged it. Danny and Sam started chatting about their other classes while Tucker connected his PDA to the computer and uploaded their assignment to Lancer's website.

Five minutes later Tucker finished submitting their video about the effects of Shakespeare on the field of literature. He let out a sigh of exhaustion, he knew his friends felt just as tired as him. They had been up last night fighting off Technus. That ghost can never get a break.

"And… done!" Tucker said as he threw up his hands in accomplishment. Danny and Sam patted him on the back for completion.

"Let's go watch a movie. I'm so tired and I don't feel like doing anything." Sam spoke as she hugged her pillow tighter.

"I call horror!" Danny raised his arm as he shouted. Tucker groaned, he hated horror. He was into drama, comedy, or his favorite, sci-fi.

"Yes! I need a good scare, but it's not that I find horror movies spooky." Sam said as she raised her fingers in the universal sign of 'boo'. The trio began to head downstairs again, grabbing snacks along the way.

The movie lasted two hours and Tucker was curled up into a ball by the end. I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight, am I? he thought. Danny and Sam mocked him, calling him a 'scaredy-cat'. Finally, the trio decided to have a sleepover at Sam's, so they grabbed their sleeping bags out of the closet. They talked for a while in Sam's room, the conversation jumping around from topic to topic. Finally they all fell asleep. The last sound heard was the snores of the trio as they slipped into their dreams.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Danny hurried through his shower. He quickly grabbed his towel and ran into his room, searching for his clothes. He found a pair of khaki joggers and a baby blue t shirt in his hamper and put them on. No time for the sniff test. He grabbed his backpack and stuffed his homework inside. I actually finished it for once. He ran out of his room, slammed the door, and slipped down the banister of the stairs. He grabbed a piece of toast from the table and greeted his parents.

"Hi mom, hi dad. Bye mom, bye dad." He stuttered out through his rush. He didn't wait for a reply and dashed out the door. He ran all the way to Tucker's, where his other two friends were waiting.

"Man, can you ever be on time?" Tucker asked as he crossed his arms in annoyance.

"S-sorry" Danny panted out through his harsh breathing. Running a couple of blocks in 4 minutes was tiring, even with his super speed. Sam chuckled at his disorganization and hasty appearance.

"Danny you look like death." Sam replied, still laughing and Danny just shrugged. They began walking towards the school where it would take another 10 minutes to reach it.

"Well I'm technically halfway there." Danny smiled, he was happy for reaching his friends before they embarked on their path to school. He was usually late, either from sleeping in or the freaking box ghost showing up in the middle of his shower (it was extremely tough to catch the nuisance while holding up a towel wrapped around his lower half to prevent it from falling).

They continued to talk and laugh as they walked to school. They finally reached the open double doors and walked in with other students. They turned right towards their lockers, going to Danny's, Sam's, and Tucker's respectively to grab their supplies. Students chatted as the trio passed by them, standing by their lockers. Once the three had their supplies they walked down to Lancers English classroom, chattering among themselves all the while. Immediately Lancer stood up as the trio entered the classroom, a nervous look on his face.

"Mr. Fenton, Ms. Manson, and Mr. Foley, the principal would like to speak to you three. Please head down there before class begins." He gestured towards the door awkwardly, unlike his usual sharp movements.

The three passed questioning glances towards each other, turned around, and headed towards Principal Ishiyama's office.

"What do you think this about?" Sam asked her best friends as she crossed her arms. Frustration rose in her being for being sent to the Principals for no specific reason.

"Probably my constant tardiness." Danny said as he shrugged. He nonchalantly walked as he shoved his hands into his pocket. He had been sent to the Principal's office quite often by Lancer for being late, so he thought this would be the same. Tucker just stared straight ahead, no doubt lost in thought about their possible encounter ahead.

The reached the principals office and swung the door open to enter. Mrs. Ishiyama was in her seat scrolling furiously through her computer. She looked up and saw 3 faces of confusement staring right back at her.

"Oh sorry, I didn't notice you there, please take a seat." She gestured to the 4 chairs in front of her desk and the trio sat down reluctantly and silently. "There have been some complications regarding your… um, project." She grabbed the remote on her desk and aimed it towards the TV, turning it on. Immediately the news station flashed and a familiar woman appeared, sitting at a desk.

"Good Morning Amity Park. My name's Tiffany Snow and I'm here to bring you the town's latest news." How did their project relate to the news? Danny thought. "Saturday night, Amity Park's resident teenager, Tucker Foley, uploaded a shocking video that may or may not change this town's beliefs." How is Shakespearean literature revolutionary? "Here's the video that may change you forever."

A video played on screen. Danny was standing by a tree and someone off camera had called action. Dread poured through Danny's body as he realized what the video was. The color drained from his face. The camera focused on Danny as he shrugged and muttered "guess I'll die", but then what happened next was shocking. A bright light flashed around his waist, and in place of Danny Fenton was Amity Park's greatest hero for 4 years, Danny Phantom.

Danny stopped breathing. He didn't know what to think other than the video replaying through his mind. He wasn't ready for the world to know, not everyone accepted him yet, especially his parents. I'M GOING TO KILL TUCKER… was the next thing Danny thought. Sam's head was in her hands and Tucker sat slack jawed staring at the TV.

The video ended and Danny was speechless, so were his friends. Principal Ishiyama turned the TV off and faced the trio, a nervous expression across her face.

"Is it true?" their principal squeaked as she sat back down in her desk.

"O-OF COURSE NOT! I-I mean, we uploaded the wrong video… uh, its an animation?" Danny said it as if it were a question and Sam stepped on his foot. "Ow-I mean I'm a HUGE fan of Danny Phantom and Tucker here is really good at animations." Tucker nodded aggressively at his side, mouth zipped in a tight line. "It almost looks real right? Hehe…" Danny nervously chuckled and hesitated to look his principal in the eye. He fidgeted with his hands and slowly looked up at the woman in front of him.

"Well I believe you. The graphics seemed somewhat inaccurate anyways." Danny almost shouted a 'hey' in defense, but decided against it and kept his mouth shut. "Your video has caused quite the commotion nevertheless. I've been receiving calls left and right since early this morning. I will inform the press about the video being a mishap. I would suggest that you upload the correct video this time, understood?" The three nodded vigorously. "Ok, you are dismissed. Please return to your first period classes."

The trio stood up and shuffled out of the office. Danny had to put so much effort into not lashing out at Tucker as they exited. Stragglers in the hallway stared at the trio as they stormed down the hall, no doubt having already seen the news.

They found the janitor closet that the typically went in when they wanted to discuss in secrecy. Danny phased them through the locked door and almost screamed at Tucker in reflex, but glared daggers at him instead. The anger within him simmered as his eyes flashed a ghostly green. Tucker gulped in fear.

"D-dude, I'm so sorry. I didn't know I uploaded the wrong video." Tucker said as he pinched his eyebrows together in an apologetic expression.

"Before you lash out Danny," Sam interjected, placing her arm between the two boys, "It's equally our fault for not checking the video after he posted it. You can't blame him. We avoided the issue anyways. You said it was an animation and people will believe it." Sam pleaded returning her hand to her side.

"Fine," Danny muttered as he crossed his arms and leaned against the shelf by the wall. "Lets just get to class, I don't need this now." They unlocked the closet door and exited the small space. They walked back to the classroom in silence, Danny leading them as he stomped in fury. Luckily, no one was in the halls.

They knocked on the door and Lancer was startled to see the trio as he answered. "You're back? Please take your seats." He opened the door fully and gestured towards the back of the classroom. The other students stared at Danny as he sat in his seat, and Danny just looked annoyed. Before Sam could shout at her classmates to back off, Danny beat her to it.

"It was an animation. I'm not phantom…" he rolled his eyes and threw his arms into the air in frustration. Students began whispering and Danny could hear everything they said through his heightened ghost hearing.

I knew Fenturd couldn't be Phantom, he's to wimpy. And he's a freak.

Phew, for a second there I thought I had a crush on the geekiest kid in school.

Ha ha. He wishes he could be Phantom. He's got muscles!

It's impossible for a human to be a ghost, right?

That's what Danny thought, until he became half ghost.

"Quiet students. I guess we've all seen the news and it was just a small mishap, right Mr. Fenton?" Lancer calmed down his students as he looked over to Danny who nodded and sunk down in his seat. Students were still staring at him and he almost banged his head on the desk in annoyance.

Lancer began to pull up students' assignments and displayed them on the screen. Students watched the board as it broadcasted their fellow classmates informing them about Shakespearean literature. The final video was the trio's work. Tucker must have submitted the correct video during class because the last video started with a mini play of Romeo and Juliet, acted by Danny and Sam respectively.

Finally the bell rang as the video neared its end and Danny ran out of the classroom. He didn't even wait for Sam and Tucker. He raced to the bathroom across the hall and locked himself within a stall. He didn't want to deal with the students in the hallway. Eventually Tucker found him and knocked on the door to his stall.

"Dude, you alright? You looked like hell was chasing you." Tucker asked in a concerning voice.

Danny put his head in his hands and rubbed his face in irritation. "That's because it is. I can't deal with everyone looking at me like that. I don't need this attention." He said as he got up and cracked the door of the stall slightly, peering out the sliver of space. Tucker stared back at him shaking his head.

"Get out, scaredy-cat. Just brush them off, their opinions don't matter. If you need to prove to them that it's fake, you can duplicate yourself and be Fenton and Phantom at once, kay?" Tucker pulled him out of the stall and they both went over to the sink to wash their hands.

"Whatever dude." Danny replied, but in reality, the reassurement from Tuck made him feel better. They both dried their hands and left the bathroom. The leftover 3 minutes of passing time was spent walking off to their calculus class, silence overwhelming the two. They met up with Sam and entered the classroom.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The rest of the school day went by quickly. Students stared and whispered at the trio all throughout the day, but Sam sent venomous glares to anyone who did, shutting them up. The three left the school together and walked to Tucker's and then split. Danny waved goodbye at his friends and headed home. Cars passed by and few citizens stopped to watch the teen walk and ask questions.

Danny was going to go insane. People would not stop pestering him, he couldn't catch a break. When he neared his home, he almost raced back in the opposite direction. News vans and reporters had gathered by his front door. The crowd consisted of at least 50 people. He thought of going invisible, but people would suspect something. So, he ran. Straight ahead.

He sprinted right through the crowd while they shouted questions at him. He felt as if his ear drums would burst due to all the noise affecting his heightened ghost hearing. He pushed through the people and finally reached the door. He twisted the handle. Locked, figures. Can't let the ghosts in. He ran to the other side of his yard and hopped over the fence. It was quite a tall wooden picket fence which would work in his favor, blocking out the crowd. Although he might give more evidence towards his increased agility and strength for the reporters, oh well. He got to the other side and dashed to the back door. It was locked as well. He fumbled for his keys through the mess in his backpack. He glanced up and noticed people trying to hop over the fence but having trouble. Yes. He found his keys, unlocked the door, and slammed it just as he got inside. He locked it from the inside and leaned his back against the door.

He let out a huge sigh of relief, just barely escaping the mob of news reporters. He looked up and saw a pair of furious parents. Oh shit. He forgot about them.

"Explain." His mother demanded. Her expression showed anger as well as sympathy. Her father displayed a little less anger than his mother, but disappointed nonetheless.

"Well, um…" Danny hesitated, "It's just an animation. You caught me… I'm just a fan of Phantom. It was created by Tuck… We accidentally uploaded the wrong video for our assignment in Lancer's class." The information poured out of Danny as he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, a nervous habit he needed to get rid. His parents were a silent for a second too long, Danny was sure they would see through his lies.

"Danny-boy! You scared us! We really thought you were the ghost boy when we saw the news!" his father boomed as he grabbed Danny in a bear hug. CAN’T. BREATHE.

"You need to be more careful when you submit your assignments young man. You really scared the entire town, and us. There's no reason for you to like that horrible ghost anyways. " His mother said as Danny winced. She hugged him next, possibly tighter than her husband. RIBS. BREAKING.

"Ok, sorry," Danny said as his mother released him and he straightened his shirt "but now people are following me. There's a MOB outside our front door." He crossed his arms in frustration.

"Yes, well we told them to leave, but they insist on getting an interview or something. Since then, we just let them be. Everyone knows it was an animation; Mrs. Ishiyama made it clear and concise in her interview. I'll try again." His mother suggested as she turned and grabbed a bazooka off the table.

She walked to the door, opening it while aiming her gun out at the crowd. She shut the door behind her and yelled something along the lines of 'Don't swarm my baby' and 'I'll shoot', but Danny didn't care to listen. He was more focused on going to his room and lying down.

He dragged his half dead body up the stairs and entered his room. It was messy since he never cleaned it. He threw his backpack onto his desk and plopped down onto his bed. His eyes had just begun to close in defeat to sleep when he heard a ringing.

Danny groaned and got up hazily, shuffling over to his backpack. Tucker was calling in their group chat on Skype. Danny answered groggily. "Hello?" Sam was already on the call looking at something off camera.

"Dude turn your TV on, its crazy." Tucker said rapidly. Danny moaned and reached for the remote on his desk and pressed a red button.

The TV fizzled to life and displayed the news channel. What Danny saw almost made his eyes fall out of their sockets. Vlad Masters was standing behind a podium on the camera next to some bulky item underneath a white sheet.

"-fternoon Amity Park citizens. There has been a mass amount of commotion regarding a video posted by Tucker Foley on his teacher's website. As majority of you may already know, the video displayed Daniel Fenton transforming into Danny Phantom, our iconic ghost hero." Vlad's face twisted slightly at the word hero. "Daniel claimed this video to be an animation created by Tucker Foley, but when my experts checked the video for digital tempering, no evidence was seen. Although I know this boy very well, I propose that we should not trust this teen to tell us his secret identity, hence the secret. I am holding an immediate town meeting to solve this issue as soon as possible as to reduce the commotion created by this mishap. At 6pm, please join us at Town Hall for a grand reveal." And with that, the screen switched back to the news station.

Danny turned his TV off and almost threw his remote across the room. Fuck it. He chucked the remote across the room in fury. It hit the wall and broke into pieces. Danny blasted it with an ectoblast for good measure. His hands ran through his long raven hair. I'M GOING TO DESTROY THAT FUCKING FRUITLOOP INTO PIECES. He heard someone call his name. Right, his friends.

"DANNY!" Sam yelled through her phone "LISTEN TO ME! If, and only IF, Vlad exposes you, it will all be fine. People already somewhat accepted you. You're fine Danny." Danny could see Sam trying to hide her nervous look through the call.

"Plus, what could Vlad possibly do to reveal your secret?" Tucker added and Danny groaned.

"You just JINXED it, Bad Luck Tuck. Fuck." Danny argued as he got up and started pacing. His hands roamed through his hair, his mind wracking for a solution to his possible revelation.

"Sit down Danny," Sam demanded, and he plopped onto his bed immediately, "Ok, lets meet at Town Hall in 10 minutes. The meetings in 20 minutes giving us ap-"

"DANNNYYYY!" his mother called him from downstairs and cut off Sam.

"COMING!" Danny shouted out his door and returned back to his friends "Ok let's meet there, see ya guys." Danny ended the call and ran down the stairs, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "What?" he said to his mom as he swung across the stairs into the kitchen.

"Vlad has called a –"

"A town meeting, I know. I was just about to tell you. We gotta get going or we're going to be late. I have a feeling I'm the star of the show." Danny rolled his eyes and grabbed his mom's wrist and pulled her towards the garage as his dad followed them.

"I don't know why Vlad would doubt you. You always tell the truth." Danny's mother said as she pressed the button on the wall to open the garage door. Danny grumbled something inaudible under his breath. His mother knew of Danny's distaste for her colleague, but she didn't think too much of it.

They all hopped in the car and Danny began to sweat. He was nervous, really nervous. His phone started to ring, vibrating in his pocket. He fumbled to retrieve it and finally answered. "Hey Jazz."

"Hey Danny. I saw the news, you've made national television little bro. Great job." Jazz said as she chuckled.

"Glad to hear Harvard gets to know about the town screwup. Well, Vlad called a town meeting to quote on quote fix this situation once and for all. We're heading there right now."

"Good luck. You don't know what Vlad could be hiding under his sleeve. You need to be careful before you reveal everything."

"I know, thanks Spazz."

"Hey! Should I call you-"

"NO!" Danny's parents looked at him at the sudden outburst of noise. He mumbled back to Jazz "Don't you dare mention it…" He could hear Jazz laughing on the other side.

"Well I need to get ready for my lecture class. I had some free time and I thought I could call. Good luck little bro, you'll need it."

"Thanks Jazz, talk to you later." Danny cut the call and slouched in his seat. He let out a sigh, today had been a long day, and it was about to get longer, hopefully not.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The red sedan began to slow as it neared the huge Grecian like building. A sizeable crowd had begun to form, consisting of a variety of people. Danny spotted his two best friends near their parents at the back of the crowd. Danny got out of the car, along with his parents, and walked up to his friends, shoving his hands into his pocket. People watched as the raven-haired boy walked past them, some staring furiously at being entangled in the teen's mistake.

Sam and Tucker, who were whispering to each other, finally noticed Danny walking towards them. They looked at him with guilt. Guilt because the situation was something they could have avoided. Guilt because they could have prevented this with one simple deletion of the video from the beginning.

"Hey Danny, you ready?" Sam asked. It seemed she didn't have a plan this time. Shit.

Danny shrugged "Let's just get this over with. I just have a sick feeling that somethings not going to go right." He whispered towards his friends. His stomach was churning within him, the feeling of dread overwhelming his mind and body. Usually when Danny felt something was going to go down, shit was going to go down.

Vlad Masters, mayor of Amity Park, entered from the town hall building behind a podium. He walked stiffly with confidence and Danny gulped, his tension increasing. I'm screwed, aren't I? Vlad tapped the microphone on the podium for attention.

"Good evening Amity Park citizens. I would like to start immediately as to not use up too much of your time. Would Daniel Fenton please join me on this stage?" Vlad said his name in a fake sweet voice as he turned towards Danny, eyes flashing red, only noticed by the other halfa.

Cameras from news stations as well as people turned behind them to see the youngest Fenton child. The crowed glared at the teenager as he sulked to the front of the crowd. Finally, Danny walked up the small set of stairs and joined Vlad on the stage, giving him the death glare.

Vlad mouthed 'ooh the scary eyes' and Danny rolled his eyes. "Please have a seat Daniel". Danny muttered some incoherent swear and sat down on the chair next to Vlad.

"Ladies and gentleman, in order to determine the question that is tearing our beloved city apart, I present you with the D.A.L.V. Corp lie detector!" Vlad exclaimed as he removed a white sheet covering the machine by his side. People 'oohed' and 'awed' in the background. Danny almost facepalmed, he was done for.

But what if it's a defective machine? Like, do they even make lie detectors that are 100% accurate? There was no telling what Vlad could pull out of his sleeve. Danny looked over to his best friends for any signal of help, but Sam and Tucker were both dumbstruck as he was.

Vlad swerved over to Danny as he displayed a devious smile. Danny wanted to curl up into a ball and simmer in his depression, but he just glared daggers at Vlad. 'Fruitloop' he mouthed and Vlad rolled his eyes and turned towards the audience.

"And now, for the final reveal! Daniel Fenton… do you lead a secret double life as Danny Phantom?" Vlad stretched the sentence out and took his time emphasizing each word. Danny didn't know what to answer. What if the machines broken? What if he wants me to reveal myself? Is this all a trick?

Danny's wild eyes darted left to right as thoughts raced through his mind. He looked to his best friends who only shook their heads. What do they even mean? He looked at his parents, who held equally clueless looks as him. Here goes.

"I-I- I'm not the ghost boy." Danny said loud enough for the microphone to pick up his voice as he looked at his feet. The tension in the air rose as everyone went silent. No one dared to talk while the machine operated.

CALCULATING… CALCULATING… The machine said in a robotic voice. INCORRECT, IT IS A LIE.

Gasps and shouts originated from the crowd, but the loudest shout became the only word running through Danny's mind. Freak. Freak. Freak… Danny panicked, he didn't know if he should stay or run. Vlad only smirked his typical grin and he mouthed towards Danny 'I win'.

In the heat of the moment Danny did the only thing he could do: transform and fly away. Some people screamed, other shouted, most just stood in silence in shock. His parents looked like they wanted to die. His best friends were devastated. Danny went invisible and flew away.

The last thing he heard was Vlad exclaiming to the crowd "SEE?! We cannot trust 17 year old boys to tell us the truth. Danny Fenton is… Danny Phantom!"

"Danny!" Sam shouted to keep Danny at bay, but she was too late. He was already gone. But Sam had a feeling as to where he was headed. She whispered something to Tucker and they both took off, sprinting towards the edge of town.

"Sammykins!" Sam's mother called after her, arm outstretched as if to grab her child, but Sam was too far to hear. The two sped off into the distance as the sun began to set on the horizon.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Quick Tucker, check inside! I'll stand guard outside just in case." Sam shouted through her cupped hands and ran to the opposite side of the bridge. The trio had created an emergency shelter in case of, well emergencies. It was hidden under the bridge, making it almost impossible to enter. Almost.

Tucker slid down the hill, careful to not slip into the creek underneath the bridge. He found the rock path the trio hid underneath the rushing water and he slowly tiptoed on them, careful to keep balance. He finally reached the end where he was now underneath the bridge. He opened a hatch to a metal door and crawled in.

Inside it was dimly lit except for the small green glow in the corner. Stashed near one wall was clothing and food while a dark shadow sat stifling a sniff by the other wall.

"Danny? Dude?" Tucker called out. There was enough space for the two of them to sit crisscrossed. Danny slowly turned towards his friend, his facial features displaying pure devastation. Tears threatened to overflow from his neon green orbs. He was in ghost form. Tucker quickly crawled up to him and hugged him tightly. Tucker felt a pang of pity for his best friend; he wasn't ready to be revealed. The world wasn't ready for him to be revealed. "You okay man?"

"I- I'm fine." Danny said as he wiped his eyes. He couldn't take the tension that had risen at the town meeting. Tucker quickly called for Sam, and she came barging into the enclosed space within seconds. She repeated the same actions as Tucker, crawling up to Danny and hugging him. She ruffled his hair as well.

"One day that statement will get you killed." Tucker replied to Danny's earlier remark. Danny chuckled lightly, but it was still evident that he was in ruins.

"Did you hear what they called me… a – a freak. Am I a freak to you? Don't answer t-that. But my parents… the look of horror on their faces… I – I couldn't." Danny said as he broke down with tears again. Danny never cried.

"Dude, don't say that. They all just need to accept the facts. Remember the reality gauntlet disaster? You will be fine. We promise." Danny didn't reply to Tucker's confirmation, he stayed silent. Sam placed her hand on Danny's back and began rubbing for comfort.

"W-what do we do n-now?" Danny whispered quietly. He tilted his head down and stared at his scuffed white boots. He quickly transformed back into human form when he realized he was still a ghost. Tucker shielded his eyes with his arm from the bright flash. Danny's bangs hung downwards, covering his face. "I'm going to be swamped by people, both Fenton and Phantom. People didn't even like me before they knew I was half human. Now they're going to HATE me." Danny ran his hands through his hair, his head throbbing In pain from the incoming headache. "I have to confront my parents too…"

"Danny… wait." Sam paused, thinking for a few seconds. "How about we let the situation die down for a day or two? Then you can return to your normal life, well it wasn't like it was normal in the first place. We just need to hide for now." Sam suggested, trying to sound optimistic.

"Yea, yea that sounds reasonable. You won't have many questions to answer once the situation deescalates." Tucker said, offering his response. The two looked at Danny for his reply.

"S-sure." Danny stuttered. "B-but how?"

"Ooh! I got it!" Tucker offered and continued "Your parents made a recent invention that quote: changes a ghost's appearance unquote. But it doesn't physically hurt them, so they threw it out. We can use that to change your appearance. That way you can still go to school and live normally as a new student for a day or two without people bothering you." Tucker crossed his arms in confidence, happy he came up with such a reasonable idea.

"And… how do you know this?" Danny questioned.

"I- uh. Hehe, I keep a list of all your parents' inventions on my PDA. This just helps me to know which gadgets to stay clear off and which ones we can use to fight off ghosts." Tucker stuttered as he explained. Sam sent a questioning glance towards his way, but he brushed It off.

"Let's do it as soon as possible." Sam added as she began to crawl out.

"Never thought I'd be sneaking into my own house. Wow." Danny said as he grabbed his friends' by the waist, turning the trio intangible and flying them through the door.

They flew out under the bridge and went invisible, soaring over the clouds. The sun had almost set by now and the moon was slowly rising. They all enjoyed the flight, the breeze blowing past their bodies. Their bird's eye view allowed them to see the cars passing, the citizens each living their own life. They finally neared the giant orange sign that belonged to the one and only Fenton Works.

They flew intangibly and invisibly to the basement, where the lab was. Danny released his friends and flew upstairs, checking if his parents had come home. Not yet. When Danny came back downstairs, Tucker was holding a silver and green remote with the word Fenton on it.

"You better be glad I found this. I had to dig through the trash for this dumb thing." Tucker joked as he held the remote in the air. "You ready man?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." Danny replied and released a sigh. "Wait, what about you two? This thing doesn't work on humans, and you're going to get mobbed just for knowing me."

"I'll just give people the death glare," Sam said as she shrugged "it seems to work quite often."

"Fair enough." Danny said. Tucker finally pointed the remote towards Danny and pushed a huge red button. A green zap of electricity hit Danny and fizzled out. Danny closed his eyes and when he reopened them, he felt the same.

"Dude, nothing happened." Tucker said defeatedly. "Man, I thought my plan would really work." Just then Danny started to feel weird and he started to smoke.

A green smoke rose of his body and filled the air, blocking the vision of the trio. Finally after a minute of coughing and pushing the green fog away, a different figure stood in front of Sam and Tucker. The latter burst out laughing as the prior stood slack jawed.

Danny had long, straight black locks all the way to his hips. His chest protruded from his plaid crop top and hips jutted out of his skinny jeans, the perfect hourglass figure. His petite feet were disguised by red high-top converse and his face was slimmer. Danny looked down at his body and only one thought came to his mind: "Fuck."

In Danny's place, a female version of his human form stood, examining his body. Laughter erupted from the African American teenager.

"Dude, I mean dudette, ha ha, can't breathe." Tucker wheezed through his continuous laughter. Danny crossed his arms and muttered something incoherent.

"Tucker this is your fault." The unnaturally high pitched voice originating from the new female made Tucker laugh even harder. Even Sam started to chuckle.

"I guess we have to call you Danielle now. Wait, that names already taken." Sam remarked, and Danny just groaned, he was a girl now. Why?!

"This is only for two days, right? I don't think I can last any longer than that." Danny said as he poked his exposed stomach. "Wait, I need a mirror!" Danny ran upstairs and into the bathroom and screamed. He just realized the extent of his changes. He couldn't recognize a single thing about him, except the baby blue eyes staring back at him.

Sam and Tucker came bumbling up the stairs, laughing to the point of joyous tears. Suddenly, the garage door began to grumble. Shit, Danny thought, they’re home. He grabbed his friends and went invisible, flying out of the house and landing on the roof of the Fenton Op Center. He released his friends as he went tangible again.

"DUDE! What do you look like when you transform then." Tucker asked excitedly, bouncing in joy.

"Nope. Not now." Danny quickly said as he twisted to check out his body.

"Well, you are kinda hot this way." Sam said and then blushed when she realized what she said. "I-I mean… you look lie uh… IF YOU EVER BRING THIS UP AGAIN I WILL PERSONALLY SEE TO IT YOUR BOTH FULL GHOSTS." She quickly dropped the point and glared daggers at Tucker who was about to comment. She saw him mouth the word 'lovebirds' and she slapped him across the head. Danny was too busy looking at himself to notice.

"Well, what do I do now? I can't live at my house. My parents will not believe me if I tell them I'm their son… or daughter, whatever. Not like they believe it at the moment though…" Danny added as he sat down on the roof.

"You can come over to my house for a sleepover. I'll tell my parents you're an exchange student from… from England and they'll probably accept you. Right? We can try." Sam suggested and shrugged. She wasn't entirely sure this was an effective plan, but it was the only thing they had now.

"Kay, so I need to go home. My parents are going to yell at me for coming home at," Tucker paused as he pulled out his PDA from his backpack "8:30pm. Yikes, curfew's at 9."

"Ok, I'll drop you off home and then we'll head over to Sam's." Danny said and transformed in reflex. Wait… this isn't right. He looked down and his heroic outfit had completely changed. It consisted of thigh high heeled white boots matched with black slim fitting high waisted leggings, clearly showing off his curves. The DP logo was displayed over his volumptuous chest and white gloves covered his slender arms. His crop top had a small zip on the front, displaying his cleavage. A white collar jutted out from the top. It was like one of those sexy versions of Halloween costumes for females. His snow-white hair flew in the air as though the breeze gushed past him ferociously.

Tucker and Sam burst out laughing, while Danny's green eyes flashed with annoyance. "You know these 'girl' hands can still punch just as hard?" he remarked holding up his fists. That shut his friends up.

Danny then grabbed his friends by the arms and flew into the air, making them invisible. Tucker and Sam mocked Danny's new body throughout the entire flight while Danny stayed silent took the abuse. They reached Tuckers, dropped him off, and headed for Sam's.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

When they reached Sam's, Danny transformed back into his human form and entered through the front door. The duo fled up the stairs to find Sam's parents, passing by a butler who was dusting a glass table holding precious antiques.

"MOOOOM! DAAAAAD! I'm, home!" Sam shouted as they walked up the flight of stairs. Her parents immediately exited their bedroom and ran up to their daughter, hands extended in front of them.

"Sammykins!" They exclaimed as they embraced her. Sam's expression was priceless as she mouthed 'help' through the entanglement of arms. Danny had to take all he had to prevent him from laughing out loud, but his mouth fought with him to smirk. "Who's this Samantha?"

"Hi, I'm… Daisy." Danny said as he held his hand out in a handshake. Her parents shook it while Danny continued to talk. "I'm an exchange student from England. Sam signed up to house me for a few days. Did she not tell you?" He tried to fake expressions as he spoke to Sam's parents like he had never met them before.

"Well it's nice to meet you Daisy. We weren't expecting you. You can stay in the guest bedroom." Sam's mother responded and then she turned towards her daughter.

"Samantha, may we talk to you for a second?" Sam gulped, that wasn't good news. The three quickly walked towards the end of the hall.

"Sammy, what was that at the town meeting? Do you know what happened to that wretched Fenton child?" Sam's father asked her. Both Sam and Danny flinched, Danny could hear with his ghost hearing from the distance.

"Um…" Sam hesitated to answer. What should I say? "Danny's... um Phantom. He's been secretly fighting ghosts for the past 3 years to keep our town safe. I don't know where he went though, he disappeared. But he'll be back. I know he will." Sam said, intermixing truths with lie. Just then, Danny's phone started to ring in his pocket and he looked at the caller ID. Jazz.

"I'm going to take this quickly." Danny said as he walked off towards the edge of the stairs. He answered once he was out of human earshot. "Hey Jazz."

"Who's that? And what are you doing with Danny's phone?" Jazz questioned. She mustn't recognize my female voice.

"Jazz its me, Danny. I-I'm a girl." What the fuck Fenton. Explain. "I mean I zapped myself with one of Mom and Dad's inventions, which by the way was TUCK's idea, and it transformed me into a female." Before Danny could finish, Jazz was already on the other line laughing her ass off.

"Haha, this is way too funny. I wish I could be there. But mom and dad are worried, Danny. They don't know where you are." She said in a concerned voice.

"I-I'm in hiding. I don't want to face anyone right now. I can't deal with the stress. I'm not r-ready." He stuttered. "I'm at Sam's pretending to be an exchange student for a couple of days, or until this transformation wears off."

"Ok, but be careful little bro. You're little scene made national news again. Maybe even international." Danny facepalmed.

"Ok, ok. I'll be going to school tomorrow as a new student. Hopefully, no one will recognize me. It seems like it's working though, we were able to fool Sam's parents."

"LOL. Well I gotta get to bed. I just wanted to check up on you. Stay safe and go back home soon, kay? Also, send me a selfie, it's not every day your little brother becomes your little sister!"

"Yes Spazz."

"Ok L-"

"I said don't call me that!" Danny shouted as he hung up. He shoved his phone into his pocket as Sam and her parents began to approach him.

"Sammy, will you show Daisy where she will be staying? We will finish our conversation later." Sam's mother asked in a sweet tone. Sam nodded in reply and grabbed Danny's hand as they walked to her room.

"Thanks Mrs. and Mr. Manson!" Danny quickly thanked as Sam dragged Danny down the hall. The soft voice that escaped his mouth was still unusual to him. They entered Sam's room and she slammed the door, swerving towards Danny and placing her hands on her hips.

"Who called you?" she asked or more so demanded.

"Jazz. I told her what happened and she… laughed." Danny said as he looked away at the last word.

"Ok. Well I bet you already heard me and my parent's conversation so there's no point in me explaining that."

"Yea."

"Also, you can sleep in my room. Just grab your usual sleeping bag."

"Won't your parents think it's weird?"

"I'm goth, they're not supposed to understand my weird quirks." Danny just rolled his eyes and walked over to Sam's closet. He opened the door and searched for his signature constellation sleeping bag, but it wasn't there.

"Uh, Sam… its not here. Tucker's is also gone." Danny asked as he looked over to his friend. She facepalmed and muttered something incoherent.

"Right, well I told the butler to wash them cause it's they started to get dirty. You know me and being clean." Danny just nodded in return. "Well, I guess we can share my bed then. It's big enough for the both of us. Plus I don't trust you in your own room."

"HEY!" Danny called "I have standards."

"Standards meaning you trash a room the second you enter it? Then yeah, that's exactly what you got." Danny lightly punched Sam in the arm as she chuckled and they both sat on the bed together. They began to talk about possible solutions to their disaster of a situation, slowly nodding off. By 11pm, the two were sleeping snuggly in the gothic bed, the sounds of their snoring filling up the silence of the dark night.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"DANNY! That's the fifth time, wake up!" Sam shouted over the mess of the room. She had thrown her clothes everywhere to find the perfect outfit for Danny while he sat sleeping in her bed. She got up and pushed him off and he tumbled to the floor with a large "bang". "GET YOUR LAZY ASS UP!" Danny let out a small squeak in reply.

"Ouch. Good morning to you too," he said rubbing his back "I'm so tired." He got up off the floor and stretched, yawning. He walked over to the mirror and almost did a double take. Right, I'm a girl.

"Here put this on." Sam said as she shoved some clothes into Danny's arms. Danny looked at the clothes and then looked back at Sam dumbfounded.

"You want me to…" he didn't finish the sentence, but Sam understood. He's too embarrassed to look at his own body. She sighed and told him to close his eyes. She began to remove the jeans and crop top Danny had wore last night and thankfully he had some underneath clothing. She took the dress from his hands and wiggled it over his head. "Can I open my eyes now?"

"Yes." Danny did as he was told, and he immediately went over to the mirror. He was wearing a sleeveless red and black dress, which felt kind of odd due to the openness of his legs. It cinched at his waist and gave him a nice hourglass figure. He looked back at his face and noticed the rats nest that sat upon his head. He went over to Sam's dresser and grabbed her comb, and then began to brush his hair in light strokes.

Danny used to play around with Jazz's hair so he had practice tying it. Once his hair was silky smooth, he began to braid it into one long strand. When he was done he turned to Sam and asked "How do I look?"

Sam was impressed. He did look quite good. She immediately blushed and said "Not bad…"

It was 7 am on Tuesday morning and they had another 30 minutes or so before they needed to meet with Tucker at his house. The two went into Sam's bathroom, brushed their teeth, washed their faces, and Sam began to apply makeup. Danny just sat and watched her do her thing while also admiring himself in the mirror. She tried to put some, eyeliner was it?, on Danny but he dodged each attempt.

Danny noticed the slight muscles on his arms and began to poke them. Tough, he thought.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked looking at him questioningly through the bathroom mirror.

"Look, I have muscles, like my old self." He said pointing to his arm. Sam sighed and continued applying her gothic look. When she finished, the two skidded down the stairs for breakfast. The private chef had made some avocado toast and they quickly shoved it down their throats in silence. After, they headed out the door. Sam had given Danny one of her unused black backpacks for the time being.

They met Tucker at his house and walked to school as they continued their conversation from yesterday. When they finally reached the school, people stared at the trio. Some wondered who the new girl while others sought for the missing piece to the trio, aka Fenton. Danny didn't want to deal with the glares so he walked behind his best friends, using them as shields. When they got inside, they immediately turned towards the principal's office to introduce Danny. He entered first and greeted the principal, followed by Sam with Tucker waiting outside.

"Hello! I'm Daisy." Danny said as he waved at Mrs. Ishiyama. "I-um, I'm an exchange student from England staying here with Sam Manson. I just wanted to introduce myself so you knew I wasn't just some random person, he-he." Danny made up as he rubbed his neck, an old habit of his.

"Ah, yes. Welcome Daisy. I hope you find Casper High quite suiting. I would advise you to follow Ms. Manson to her classes as she can guide you," she said as she glanced at Sam who was standing behind Danny. "Do you know how long your stay here will be?"

"About a day or two, then I'm moving on to another state." He said and tried to smile. It's so hard trying to act as if you know no one, when you really know everyone.

"Ok, Daisy. Have a great day!" she said and Danny replied in fake enthusiasm. He then followed Sam and joined Tucker outside. The trio walked to their respective lockers and grabbed their supplies for their classes. As Danny took out his English notebook, he could hear conversations involving 'Fenton' and 'Phantom'. He decided to listen in on a few.

So, the video was real? How did he keep it a secret for so long?

Gosh who knew Fentonia could be Phantom?

I don't believe it. The ghost boy cannot be that wimpy dork. He's WAY too clumsy.

I hope Fenton comes to school today, I have so many questions. Where is he by the way?

I'm right here, Danny thought. He was glad he wasn't noticeable at the moment. He really didn't want to deal with this mess. He walked back to Tucker's locker, his dress swaying from side to side. Dresses are kind of comfortable. Damn, I never thought I would say that. The day had been ok so far and nothing had gone wrong as of yet.

"Who's the hot girl Foley?" Dash sneered as he walked up to the trio. Ew, he really wanted to punch Dash for calling him hot, but he couldn't risk it right now.

"Hi, I'm Daisy." Danny said as he pretended to be nice, he didn't want to create tensions, just lay low. "I'm an exchange student from England." Every student in the hallway turned to watch the king of Casper High flirt with the cute exchange student.

"Well, what do you say we exchange numbers?" Dash asked in a flirtatious tone. Danny almost threw up. Tucker was laughing so hard at his side while Sam just watched, crossing her arms and smirking in delight.

"I-um, I think I'm good…" Danny stammered in embarrassment as his cheeks swirled in light pink. Dash looked disgusted at the fact of being rejected, but he brushed it off.

"That's alright, you don't know me that well. I'm Dash, captain of the football team. Once you hang out with me, you'll be swooning in no time." he said as he held up his arms to showcase his muscles for Danny. Danny's cheeks transformed into a darker shade of pink.

"S-sure." Was all he could stammer out. Tucker and Sam began to laugh even harder and Dash looked at them with a furious aggression.

"What are ya laughing at Foley and Manson? Say... where's Fenton? I don't believe the little stunt he pulled off yesterday." Tucker just shrugged and clutched his stomach while wiping a fake tear from his eyes.

"We don't know where he is." Sam replied straight faced.

"Lies." Dash said. "He's probably hiding in embarrassment after acting as Phantom. I bet that lie detector malfunctioned too." He remarked quickly then grabbed Danny by the arm.

"Come with me Daisy, I'll show you around the school." He glanced at the other two and frowned "these losers aren't worth your time." He rapidly sauntered off, clutching Danny's arm. Danny squeaked with the sudden pull. He turned back to his friends and mouthed for 'help', but they were too busy laughing their asses off, due to the fact that their friends bully was hitting on him.

The bell rang immediately, and Dash groaned. "Damn it, I forgot about class. I'll show you around after Lancer's class kay?" Dash looked over to Danny in admiration. Danny was a couple of inches shorter than Dash, so he didn't have to look up too much. Did I shrink? I used to be an inch shorter than Dash.

"Um… sure. I have Mr. Lancer first period too." Danny almost smacked his head at his statement. He could have easily gotten away if he had said any other class.

"Coolio." Dash replied and they both walked off to Lancer's classroom. Dash entered first and sat down in his desk while Danny went up to Lancer and introduced himself. Lancer welcomed him and introduced Danny to the class.

"Good morning students, we have a new student here today. This is Daisy, she's an exchange student from England and will be with us for a few days." Danny waved at his classmates and then walked to the back to sit in his usual spot, between Sam and Tucker. The students gazed at Danny as he sat in his seat, then realized what he'd done. Goddamnit, it's a habit. The students turned back towards Lancer and Danny hoped no one would make the connection.

Lancer began to take attendance and only one student seemed to be absent: Daniel Fenton. The class began to murmur about the questioning reveal yesterday and Lancer silenced them immediately. Although he wanted to discuss the events of yesterday, he had a class to teach.

Class went on as usual, Lancer lectured and then gave the students time to work. When Lancer called out 'worktime' for their essays due next week, all the students turned towards Danny and he gulped. He did not want to be the center of attention again. Paulina was the first to speak.

"So, you're from England, right? What's it like there?" she asked questioningly. Danny honestly had no clue as of what to say, he was frozen solid.

"Its- uh, it rains a lot. Um…" he stuttered and tried to make up something "but it's not as fun as visiting America." He looked around at his fellow classmates. They were all staring at him in astonishment. Mikey spoke up next.

"How come you don't have an accent?" Dang, he was good.

"That's a stereotype. Not everyone back home has a British accent." Danny felt accomplished after making up the quick statements. His classmates continued to press him for answers.

"What are your hobbies?"

"I like to draw and play video games."

"What are you interested in?"

"I love the stars and astronomy. I want to be an astronaut in the future. NASA is my goal."

"Who are you staying with?"

"Sam."

"How is your skin so flawless?"

Danny scrunched his nose at that. He had no clue how to answer. "Facial scrubs?" he shrugged, mental note: learn more about ‘girl stuff’ if you're ever in this situation.

The questions continued for a couple of minutes and Danny answered with a constant pace. The bell rang and students filed out of the room as Lancer as reminded them of their homework assignment. Danny quickly escaped with Sam and Tucker at his side before Dash could steal him away. They walked towards the next class: history. The questions asked began to reduce as word spread throughout the school.

At lunch, the A-listers swarmed him and asked him to join their table. After repeated pleading, Danny sat with them and instantly regretted his decision. Dash played footsie under the table the entire time while Paulina talked to him about girl things. He wanted to die, well half die. If they knew he really was, they would immediately scream and run away. Danny could see his friends from the corner of his eye laughing at his misfortune. Oh, they're so in for it.

After lunch, which he ran away from when the bell rang, he went to his algebra class. He and Sam had all the same classes while Tucker took a higher level math class. The class went by smoothly with minor interruptions.

Sam and Danny left class only to go to next one which he had been dreading since morning: gym class. They headed towards the locker rooms, where Danny walked behind Sam, somewhat crouched to hide. He felt so wrong walking in on females changing. He wanted to close his eyes, but he didn't want to seem out of the ordinary.

"Sam I-," he whispered, "how do I change?" they walked to the corner of the room, blocked from the view of other girls. Sam opened her locker and took out her gym clothes and her emergency gym clothes. She looked around the area for peering eyes and sighed.

"Danny it doesn't matter. You're bound to see a girl's body anyway. You're fucking 17 now." She crossed her arms in annoyance. She really didn't want to be the one to dress Danny again. Danny growled and slowly peeled off his clothes as Sam did the same next to him. He turned around so to give Sam some privacy. He put on Sam's gym clothes in haste. Underneath he wore a black lace bra and matching thong. So that’s what’s been giving me this horrible wedgie.

"Nice ass Daisy." Paulina said out of nowhere, passing by the two changing. Danny blushed and remained silent, fumbling to put the t-shirt and shorts on.. Sam snickered beside him and he jabbed his arm into her side when he finished changing.

The two cleaned up and walked out into the gym. Tucker was already standing near the bleachers on his PDA. The two sat beside him and Tucker grinned.

"How was the girl's locker room Danny?" Danny couldn't help but smile, his friend was always cracking jokes.

"Not too bad." He replied but quickly blushed.

"Paulina said he's got a nice ass." Sam said as she grinned her gothic smile towards Tucker. The techno geek began to chuckle as he put his PDA into his pocket. Just then, a shrill whistle blew.

Ms. Tetslaff ordered all the students over to the bleachers. She took attendance and noticed the new student over in the corner. "And who might you be?" pointing to Danny.

"I'm Daisy, an exchange student. I'll be here for a few days." Danny said, accustomed to greeting himself as a female. Ms. Tetslaff just nodded and began to shout instructions. She made them run a mile as warm up outside. "Now I want all of you to stay behind the red line and when I say go, you're going to run to the post over there and back. You're grade depends on how fast you make it back here, got it?" The students nodded in unison and jogged over to the starting line. "GO!"

Danny ran nonchalantly, he wasn't in a hurry or anything and it wasn't like he was being graded. He just jogged with the wind flowing through his hair. He liked the airy breeze against his bare skin, the soothing coolness against his face. He closed his eyes and imagined himself flying through the night sky, starts twinkling overhead. He rounded the pole and headed back. He didn't see anyone in front of him, maybe I'm just being really slow, ha. When he reached Ms. Tetslaff, her mouth was open in shock.

"Daisy, right?" she asked as Danny nodded through his pants. "That was…" she paused and looked at her stopwatch "3 1/2 minutes…"

"Wait, WHAT?!" Danny shouted as Dash came running in 3 minutes later. Dash was breathing hard, but he looked at Danny in surprise. Sam came running in right behind Dash and grabbed Danny by the arm. He yelped as her hot breath whispered in his ear.

"Why did you run so fast?!" she furiously whispered. Danny was astonished; he had been running really slowly in his mind. I blame the wind, it increases your adrenaline.

"Daisy, are you ok?" Ms. Tetslaff asked. Danny just sighed and nodded.

"I run back in England. I'm on the track team." He said, making up even more excuses. Students began trickling in, looking at Danny with stunned expressions. Danny just cowered behind Sam and Tucker for the rest of class, laying back on the ghost enhanced agility. When class was over, he dashed into the locker room, changed, and hid at Sam's locker. Eventually his friends met up with him and were ready to go home. Just then, things got worse.

"Hey Daisy," Dash cooed. "Mind if I talk to you for a moment?" Danny wholeheartedly wanted to say no, but he had to keep up his appearance, he still hesitated. Sam just smiled and nodded for him to go along.

"Umm…" Danny replied, but before he could say anything Dash grabbed his hand.

"I'll take that as a yes." He said and walked Danny to the other end of the hallway. "So, what do you think of Casper High?" he asked as he still held Danny's hand. His palm was sweaty while Danny's was ice cold.

"It's cool," Danny said. He tried to keep his replies short and simple.

"You know, you're a really athletic girl and, I uh- have to ask. What do you think… of me?" Dash said. Danny blushed, his cheeks turning rose pink. Dash was hardcore flirting with his bully victim.

"Um… you're cool…" Danny wanted to wash his mouth with soap. I can't believe I just said that. He wanted to erase the memory from his mind but the most horrifying experience of his life was about to begin. Dash leaned towards him, closing his eyes and puckering his lips while and Danny literally just stood there frozen in fear. Dash was about to place his lips on Danny for only a second until Danny moved. His mind was telling him to dodge the romance, so he quickly punched Dash in the face with little exertion. Dash clutched his face in agony and backed off. Danny speedily ran out of sight, hiding behind a corridor where a single student couldn't be found.

Danny's heart was pounding in his chest at the terrifying encounter. I was almost kissed by Dash. BY DASH. Tucker was going to have a good laugh at this one. He could hear Dash shouting in the distance as Danny crouched down in fear. So much for appearances, he thought.

Eventually, Sam and Tucker found Danny sitting on the floor rocking back forth, with his knees up to his chin and wide eyed. He was scarred for life. The way Dash leaned forward, eyes closed, lips puckered…

Tucker was having a great time at Danny's expense. "Oh man… that… that was good! I got… got it on my PDA!" he said through his laughter. His stomach and cheeks started to ache with this day's humor. Sam jabbed him in his side, hinting at him to stop.

"Danny let's go. You really took a number out of Dash though, his nose was bleeding." Sam said through her smile; she also found this situation quite comical. She stuck out her hand and Danny grabbed it as she pulled him up. They began to walk out of the school as leftover students stared at them. Luckily, Dash had left for afterschool football practice so Danny didn't have to see him. They walked back to Sam's home, conversing about ghosts and school.

Danny realized as they neared Sam's house that no ghosts had appeared today. He didn't want to jinx it so he kept quiet. At Sam's house, they grabbed a couple of snacks and headed downstairs to watch a movie. Halfway through the movie the doorbell rang.

A minute later, Sam's grandma called for the trio to come upstairs. Sam grabbed the remote, paused the movie, and the three ran up the stairs to the main door. When they saw who was at the door, they almost dashed back downstairs. Danny's heart started to race, pounding in his chest. He hoped he wouldn't notice him.

Vlad Masters, mayor of Amity Park, stood at the doorway, his suit crispy, clean, and black. His hands were behind his back and his face was neutral. "Ms. Manson, may I speak with you for a moment, you too Mr. Foley." he paused and his eyes darted towards Danny, confusion crossing his face. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Daisy. An exchange student…" Danny said rapidly in defense. Danny held out his hand "Nice to meet you, uh…"

"Mayor Masters. Welcome to Amity Park." Vlad said in a sweet tone. So he doesn't recognize me. YES! Danny smiled internally. "I just need a moment with you two." Vlad returned back to his neutrality as he pointed to Danny's friends. They followed him onto Sam's porch. Danny stayed behind; ready to return back downstairs when someone touched his arm.

Sam's grandma sat in her motorized wheelchair and told him to wait. "Danny how are you holding up?" she said with a grin on her face.

"Wait – h-how? What?" Danny was shocked and confused. How did she figure it out?

"You look the same. It isn't hard to tell, at least if you pay attention." She said as she winked.

"I- uh, I'm good." He replied to her earlier question. H didn't know what to think. He knew Sam's grandma was smart, but this convinced him that she had some sort of psychic powers.

"Stay safe kiddo." Danny nodded and smiled in reply. Sam's grandma patted his back and he went back downstairs. His mind raced through thoughts on where he went wrong, was I giving away too much?

AT THE SAME TIME

"What do you want Vlad?" Sam ordered as she crossed her arms and glared ferociously.

"You know what I want. Where's Daniel?"

"After the stunt you pulled yesterday, he's long gone. We couldn't find him" Tucker replied in anger.

"Don't play dumb with me child. You two would be the only ones to know where he could possibly be. He's hiding, isn't he?"

"You know, Danny could pull a Vlad and reveal your secret?" Sam said in a sly smile as she pointed her finger slowly at the older halfa.

"I don't need this!" Vlad shouted and stomped his foot. "Tell me where he is NOW." He demanded as his eyes flashed a glimpse of red.

"Why do you need him anyway? He's out of town." Tucker said and then clamped his hand on his mouth, as if he revealed a secret.

"Which town!?" Vlad shouted as he towered over Tucker. Tucker just shrugged with a neutral expression. Vlad let out an irritated growl and stomped back to his limo. He hopped in the back seat and left speedily.

Sam and Tucker looked at each other, high-fived at their acting skills, and then skipped back inside. They met Danny in the movie theater-like basement. Danny immediately started to explain his encounter with Sam's grandmother followed by Sam and Tucker's explanation of Vlad's annoyance.

They erupted in laughter after both explanations and finished the movie. The day ended same as yesterday: Tucker left for his home and Danny slept over at Sam's. As they did their homework, they began to fall asleep and ultimately ended up passed out on Sam's bed.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The morning routine began same as yesterdays as well. Sam woke Danny up, they got ready, ate breakfast, met with Tucker, and headed for school. Today, Danny wore a blue off the shoulder crop top, showing off his slight toned abs, paired with black skinny ripped jeans with his signature red high top converse. He let his hair out today, its silky-smooth strands meeting his hips and swaying back and forth as he moved. Sam wore a purple t-shirt paired with black leggings and thick combat boots. Tucker wore his usual yellow turtle neck, green cargo pants, red beret, and brown timberland boots.

The trio conversed about other students and recent gossip surrounding the school. The biggest event was Danny's revelation, but they ignored that fact. When they reached the school, students stared again. Danny cupped his hand over his face as if he was hiding behind it. He walked behind his friends and he could feel all the eyes burning holes into his body. He didn't stop at his locker, in fear of being cornered by Dash again. He followed Sam and she grabbed her textbooks from her locker. Just then, a huge, muscular figure placed his hand on Danny's shoulder. Danny jumped a little in response and turned around.

Dash stood there, with a white bandage covering his nose. "Daisy…" he started. Danny waited for a punch to the face, half closing one eye and keeping the other open, but "- you're strong. You're like THE PERFECT girl…" Danny puked in his mouth and swallowed it back down. WHAT. THE. FUCK. Can't this man get a hint?

"Um…" Danny stood there. He really, really, REALLY, didn't want to reply. Sam was laughing her hardest next to him. He jabbed his elbow into her side, but she continued as if the shove didn't affect her. Before Danny could move Dash grabbed him by the waist… and… and…

KISSED HIM. THE DUMBASS THAT WAS DASH FUCKING KISSED HIM. Danny's eyes widened, and he wanted to race the hell out of here, but he was frozen in Dash's tight grip. Dash pushed harder and asked entrance into Danny's mouth through his tongue. Danny puckered his lips tight and stomped on Dash's foot. Dash yelped backwards in pain and Danny dashed out and into Lancer's classroom. He could hear Dash's cry for wait and something about it being 'the best kiss ever'.

He was hyperventilating as he sat down in his seat. He shuffled through his backpack and found a water bottle and downed the whole thing. Lancer looked over questioningly and Danny smiled innocently as Lancer returned to his computer unfazed.

Tucker and Sam came running into the classroom, doubling over in laughter. Yeah, laugh your asses off at my expense. Danny banged his head on his desk and left it there until the bell rang.

Dash entered the room after the bell rang and sent Danny a flirtatious wave. Danny wanted to stab himself and become full ghost. Sam and Tucker had huge grins and sent Danny kisses as if mimicking Dash.

"Good morning class, happy Tuesday. Please say here as I say your name for attendance." Lancer said. Again, everyone's name had a check mark beside it except for Daniel Fenton on his attendance sheet. Lancer hoped his student was okay. "Ok class," he said as he put down his clipboard "today we are going to –" a wisp of blue escaped Danny's mouth. No. No. No. No. Danny's hand shot up in the air. Lancer sighed, "yes Daisy?"

"Can I go to the restroom please?" Danny asked sweetly, he wanted to escape this hell hole anyways.

"Yes, but go quickly." Lancer continued his announcements as Danny left the classroom. Closing the door, he looked left and right and didn't see any ghost. He walked to the girl's bathroom and entered a stall. Transforming invisibly, he flew through the ceiling and onto the school roof. A robotic ghost stood holding a huge blaster, green flaming hair flying in the wind.

Skulker immediately scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, then widened his eyes in realization. The sexy phantom that stood in front of him was none other than Danny, just female version. He started to snicker at his enemy's predicament. Danny landed on the roof and almost fell over, he wasn't used to wearing heels. This only made Skulker laugh harder at the welp trying to regain his balance on the 4 inch heels connected to his thigh high boots.

"Welp, what happened to you? It is you right? I still want to skin your pelt and place it over my fireplace." Skulker said with his grin. He aimed his blaster and fired.

Danny dodged the ectoblast, tumbling over his heels. Flying it is, he thought as he began to levitate. "Skulker, even if I'm a girl, I can still beat your ass. Don't be sexist." Danny said as he fired back three fire blasts in succession.

The first two were dodged by the flaming ghost, but the last knocked the blaster from his arms. Skulker drew up his arm and it opened to reveal 3 silver and blue missiles. He fired and remarked "Is it true that Plasmius revealed your secret to the mortals?"

Danny rolled his eyes and confirmed the ghosts suspicion. "I don't have time for this, I need to get back to class." Danny crossed his arms producing a shield, blocking the missile. He flew up to Skulker and kicked the ghosts arms off. He then proceeded to unscrew Skulker's head and grab the green little blob from within. He took the thermos out of his belt and dropped the blob into the thermos.

Danny sighed as capped the thermos and floated back down into the bathroom, transforming into his human self and returning to class. He sat down with a huff, tired from fighting the level four ghost. Sam passed a note onto his desk: 'check your arm'. Oh shit. He didn't notice the slender cut that ran down his arm. One of the missiles must have nicked him when he had turned around. He placed his hand on top of the scar to block it from view. He checked his palm and some blood was smeared across it. Great.

Class resumed as usual, Lancer went through a PowerPoint and then gave students work time. The students conversed in their respective social groups and Danny was glad for the little attention.

Suddenly, Danny felt his muscles ache. He couldn't move any of his limbs He was about to tell Sam, but suddenly a green smoke arose from his body. Students turned around to see the situation. The smoke filled the room and everyone began coughing. Lancer opened the door and a window and students swatted the air as they coughed. The smoke began to clear and everyone turned their head towards the source of the green air.

Short, jagged black hair replaced the silky black locks, thin slender frame was replaced by light muscles, pointed face replaced by angular cheek bones, and crop top and skinny jeans replaced by a blue t-shirt ad jeans.

Danny Fenton sat in the spot Daisy was sitting in, wide eyed and staring at his classmates. Students mouths were wide open while Sam and Tucker facepalmed in sync.

"Fuck." Danny muttered, clutching his arm tighter.

The loudest exclamation came from a specific A-lister with his head in his hands. "I KISSED FENTURD?!" Dash shouted as he stood up.

[dimensiontripperhibiki]

Start Dash (13/?)

Eli smiled proudly as Honoka walked confidently onto the stage, toward the podium. She knew that she had made the right decision for Honoka to be student council president. And she knew that Honoka would be perfectly fine with Umi and Kotori as her partners. She knew that the two of them were waiting backstage, probably nervously watching Honoka. Honoka stopped in front of the podium and leaned forward to introduce herself. “Hello, everyone! I’m your new student council president. Most of you should know me as a school idol. My name is…” Eli glanced away as Honoka threw the microphone up. Her eyes rested on Nozomi who was watching Honoka with a sad smile on her face. She couldn’t help but notice that Nico looked a bit down too. She could understand why. It was their last semester. Fall had already begun. Soon enough their time as students at Otonokizaka High would end as would their time as school idols. They would go off to college most likely, or find jobs and take a gap year, something Eli was still pondering. She took her seat again, her gaze still lingering on Nico and Nozomi.

“What?” Nico muttered, noticing Eli looking at her. “You’re staring.” “Oh...nothing.” Eli quickly looked away, biting her lip. She didn’t know how to approach the issue. She was still struggling with it a little bit herself, struggling with the idea of what to do after their final year. She turned her attention back to the stage, which Honoka was being ushered off of. “I think Honoka-chan was a good choice.” Nozomi said, leaning forward slightly with a small smile. “But I think you might have been a little biased.” “Considering you’re sleeping with her.” Nico added with a knowing smirk. “It’s not like that’s why I chose her!” Eli spluttered. “Oh? Then why are you blushing?” Eli watched Nico’s ruby eyes twinkle. “I can’t believe you can see color so clearly now.” “I’m Yazawa Nico.” Nico said smugly. “I can do the impossible. But...with the career I’m pursuing I’m no longer following my dream to be an idol.” Nozomi frowned. “You’ll do find pursuing public relations. Besides you’ll still help idols.” Eli nodded her agreement. “Nozomi is right. It doesn’t have to be the end of everything idol related.” Nico managed a small smile at that. “Maybe you’re right.” She took a deep breath, steeling herself. She knew she was lucky to be in the position she was in. She hadn’t met her soulmate exactly but she had met someone who was just as good, if not better, than her soulmate. And she still had a year left of being a school idol. She looked at Umi who was standing nervously next to Honoka and Kotori and felt a surge of happiness. Maki’s eyes were fixed to the stage too, watching intently as Kotori smiled next to Honoka and Umi. Kotori seemed to be so happy since she had decided to stay. Maki was relieved at that. The main thing which had stopped her from asking Kotori to stay was the idea that Kotori would be miserable if she did stay. If she missed out on the opportunity she had longed for. “They look happy, nya.” Rin spoke from her right as if sensing what Maki was thinking. “I’m glad Kotori-chan stayed.” “Me too.” Maki mumbled while Hanayo nodded emphatically in agreement. “It wouldn’t have been the same without Kotori-chan.” Hanayo said quietly as she stared up at the stage. “All nine of us have to be in Muse. Until…” “Until the end of the year.” Rin added when Hanayo trailed off. Maki’s brow furrowed at the comment and she glanced over at Rin who suddenly looked a bit down. “That’s almost a year away. We don’t have to think about that right now. Let’s just enjoy the time we have in Muse...with all nine of us.” “Maki-chan is right.” Hanayo said in agreement though even she looked a bit upset at Rin’s comment. “We don’t have to worry about it yet.” “I know that.” Rin sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “But I don’t want to be Muse without the third years, nya…” Maki frowned. “You’re saying we should...disband?” “Maybe. I-I don’t know.” Maki let out an irritated sigh. She didn’t exactly want to think about that. “Let’s just talk about it later, okay? Everyone’s leaving anyway, we should go.” Rin grumbled at the response but nodded her head and got up to follow. She supposed it wouldn’t help to talk about it now. It wouldn’t change the fact that the third years would be graduating soon enough. ---- “We could eat in the student council room if you want.” Eli suggested with a small smile as she watched Honoka happily eating her bread. “If you have work to do.” “Kotori-chan said she might go over some things.” Honoka said, shaking her head. “I think she said she was going to look for Maki-chan first so they’re probably making out in there. Or worse.” Eli’s eyes widened in surprise. “Honoka!” “What?” Honoka smirked, leaning into Eli’s side. “It’s not like we haven’t made out in there before. The door has a lock.” “I know but…” “Honoka-chan!” Honoka and Eli looked up in time to see Hanayo, Maki and Nico running toward them. As soon as the three reached them, Hanayo collapsed to her hands and knees, breathing heavily. “Is it impossible for you to stay in one place?” Nico asked breathlessly. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Rin chimed in, nodding her head. Eli’s brow furrowed in confusion as she looked between the three of them. “What’s going on?” “Honoka-chan!” Honoka glanced to her right at the sound of Kotori’s voice. She was surprised to see Nozomi, Kotori and Umi running toward them too. “What’s happening?” Nico took a deep breath. “There’s gonna be...another…” “Another Love Live!” Kotori finished for Nico as she reached the small group with Nozomi and Umi. “Anju-san text me to tell me.” Hanayo said, her eyes wide with surprise. “Because the first contest, won by A-Rise was such a success, there will be a second contest! And it’s going to be bigger. The arena will be bigger and the videos will be uploaded online with a live stream available! The groups will be invited based on regional ranking and the regional winners will get to compete in the nationals!” “So we have a chance to compete in the nationals!” Nico exclaimed excitedly. “But...if the popularity right now doesn’t matter that means we’ll have to go up against...A-Rise.” Umi said, her shoulders slumping slightly. The rest of the group visibly deflated too. “We don’t have to participate, do we?” Honoka asked innocently, speaking up for the first time. “I don’t think we have to participate.” “WHAT?!” The rest of Muse exclaimed in shock, their eyes wide. “Honoka…” Eli took a step forward, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean by that?” “I just mean...we don’t have to do it, if we don’t want to.” Honoka answered with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “You’re really not interested?” “You can’t be serious!” Nico exclaimed angrily as she moved closer to Honoka. “This is Love Live we’re talking about! The dream of being a school idol! You’d jump off a cliff at the chance.” Honoka gave a nervous laugh as Nico gripped her arms. “Y-You think so? “Nico.” Eli warned, narrowing her eyes at Nico. Hanayo heard the familiar tone of her phone receiving a video call. Checking it, she quickly grabbed Rin’s bag and pulled her laptop out. “W-Wha…?” Rin watched in shock as Hanayo opened her laptop and typed in her password. “How do you know my password?” “I have my ways.” Hanayo answered as she linked her phone to the orange laptop. She accepted the video call and four people came into view. Tsubasa smirked on the screen. “Have you heard the news? I’m sure Anju told her future sister in law...in law.” Hanayo watched as Miyu’s face turned red. “Hi, Miyu-chan.” Tsubasa rolled her eyes. “Hey, you could have acknowledged me.” “R-Right, sorry!” Hanayo blushed just as brightly as Miyu. Before she could say anything else though, the door behind the four girls on the screen was thrown open and Hibiki stumbled into the room. “I’m okay!” Hibiki exclaimed, grimacing. “Did I make it?” “Just about.” Anju said in amusement. “So did you get my text, Hanayo-chan? You didn’t answer.” Hanayo sat down next to Honoka while the rest of Muse gathered around, focusing intently on the laptop. “Yeah. Sorry, I got it. I wanted to tell everyone else.” “So you all know.” Tsubasa summarised with an approving nod of her head. “That’s good.” Hearing a soft sigh from Honoka, Eli took her girlfriend’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Honoka looked away from the laptop, thinking. “So are you going to enter?” Anju asked brightly. Nico scoffed. “Obviously.” “We don’t know yet.” Honoka said, glancing at Nico. “We’ll have to think about it.” Nico growled in annoyance. “What is there to think about?! Everyone else wants to. Right?” She looked around at the other members who all nodded, save for Honoka and Eli. “Eli?” Eli bit the inside of her cheek. She wanted to but she didn’t want to pressurize Honoka by saying so. “I-I guess.” Anju watched the interaction carefully before she noticed Tsubasa open her mouth to say something. She pressed her hand over Tsubasa’s mouth to keep her from pressurising the other leader. Erena cleared her throat. “Whatever decision you make, we will respect, Kousaka. Please take your time but remember the competition starts in two weeks.” Honoka nodded, her mouth set into a grim line. She didn’t want to let everyone else down but she wasn’t sure she wanted to compete either. “Thank you, Toudou-san.” “I’ll call you later, Miyu.” Hanayo said softly, placing her hand on the lid of the laptop in preparation to shut it. “Bye Hibiki!” Rin exclaimed quickly, just before Hanayo shut the laptop. “Honoka-chan?” Nozomi pressed gently, looking toward Honoka. “You really don’t want to compete again?” “I-I don’t know.” Honoka mumbled, looking down at her lap. “I just need some time to think about it, that’s all. I don’t know what I want to do. I’m sorry, Nico-chan.” Nico huffed in annoyance but she visibly calmed down when Umi placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. She looked up at her girlfriend, taking comfort in the calmness of Umi’s expression. “Fine. I don’t understand but fine.” “I’m going to call Saya before our break ends.” Nozomi said, getting to her feet. She briefly touched Honoka’s shoulder, earning herself a small smile from the leader of the group before she moved away. “We’re going too.” Rin said before she tugged Hanayo away. “Come on, Nico.” Umi took Nico’s hand and with a slightly concerned look toward Honoka she walked away with Nico too. Kotori noticed Eli glance at her pleadingly. Reluctantly, she nodded her head in understanding. She wanted to stay, for Honoka, but she knew that Eli was the best person for Honoka to talk to. “Let’s go, Maki-chan.” “Are you okay?” Eli asked quietly, placing her hand on Honoka’s shoulder. Honoka let out a soft sigh. “They’re disappointed. I don’t want to cause more trouble for anyone, I just...I don’t know how I feel about competing in Love Live again.” Eli nodded though even she couldn’t understand that. “Maybe you shouldn’t think of it as competing. Maybe you should think of it as another chance for all of us to perform together again. The last chance for some of us.” “Right.” Honoka mumbled, her shoulders slumping slightly. “You, Nozomi-chan and Nico-chan are going to be graduating soon. I guess that’s why Nico-chan was angry with me earlier.” “She’s just upset. She loves Muse, even if she wouldn’t admit it.” Eli said with a small, knowing smile. She knew that Nico cared, maybe more than all of them but she didn’t like to show it. “She doesn’t want to give it up yet.” Honoka bit her lip. She didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t sure what she should do. “I’ll support you no matter what you choose.” Eli said gently, lightly resting her head upon Honoka’s shoulder. “But I think you might regret it if we don’t try this one more time.” Honoka closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “L-Let’s do it.” She said after a moment, opening her eyes as she looked to Eli. “You’re right. I don’t want to regret anything. And I don’t want to let anyone down. I know this means a lot to everyone.” “It does.” Eli answered honestly, relief washing over her. “We can do this, Honoka.” Honoka smiled and leaned in, pressing her lips gently to Eli’s. “Thank you, Eli-senpai.” ---- Rin stared at her laptop screen, her chest tight with anguish. She knew it wasn’t a good idea to read the comments on Muse’s video but it had popped up and she hadn’t been able to resist. Most were positive comments but there were more than a few comments about how boyish she was. One even saying that she was ugly. She blinked away tears forming in her eyes. She knew she shouldn’t let the comments bother her but she couldn’t help it. The comments in front of her played upon her own insecurities. She was boyish. “You ready to go?” Rin jumped in surprise at the sound of Hibiki’s voice. She quickly wiped at her eyes before she turned to see her girlfriend walk into the room. “W-What?” “We have a date. The movies, remember?” Hibiki said in amusement. “Are you ready to go?” “Oh…” Rin bit her lip and glanced away. “I-I don’t think so. I’m not...feeling well. Maybe we could skip the movies this time? I-I think I’ll just get some sleep.” “Oh.” Hibiki frowned in response. “You seemed fine before I went into the bathroom...did something happen?” Rin shook her head. “Rin.” Hibiki stepped forward, her gaze fixed to Rin’s face. “You’re not sick, you’re upset. What happened?” “Did you feel that?” Rin mumbled, her shoulders slumping. She couldn’t keep anything from Hibiki, it seemed. “No. I just know you.” Hibiki’s lips turned up slightly. “And I can tell something’s upsetting you. What’s wrong.” “Just…” Rin sighed, crossing her left arm over her stomach to grip her other arm. “I read some...comments. Saying that I’m boyish and...ugly.” Hibiki raised an eyebrow before her gaze flicked to Rin’s laptop. Her stare hardened and she moved over, quickly switching it off before she shut the lid. “You’re not ugly. You’re a work of art. An artist’s eye never looks at anything that isn’t beautiful.” Hibiki stepped forward and gently cupped Rin’s cheeks. “I wouldn’t lie to you.” Rin frowned softly. “I still don’t want to go out.” “We don’t have to.” Hibiki said quietly. “Besides, I don’t want anyone to look at you. You’d be taken away from me if people saw how breathtaking you are.” Rin felt her face warm at the answer. “You’re the only person who sees me like that.” “That’s not true. Without this...soulmate thing people would be lining up to be with you.” Hibiki said with a roll of her eyes. “I told you, I wouldn’t lie to you. People do look at you...like I do. I’ve seen people do it before.” “You have?” Rin asked in surprise. “Of course.” Hibiki said with a slight scoff. “Not that I like seeing them looking. You’re my girlfriend.” Rin gave a soft chuckle at the response as well as the slightly annoyed look on Hibiki’s face. “I know you like how I look, I just like…” “Feeling like a girl sometimes.” Hibiki finished for Rin. Her hands fell from Rin’s face and she wrapped her arms around her waist instead. “And that’s okay. Don’t listen to those stupid comments.” Rin managed a small smile. “I know I shouldn’t.” “They’re idiots.” Hibiki confirmed. She leaned up, gently pressing her lips to Rin’s before slowly drawing away. “Let’s just stay home. I don’t want to go out anyway. Besides...I can help you feel like a girl.” Rin felt a familiar tingle of excitement course through her as Hibiki smirked up at her. “Yeah?” “Yes.” Hibiki breathed out before she kissed Rin again. “What do you think, hotshot? Mind if I take the reins?” Rin shook her head, smiling against Hibiki’s lips. It seemed that no matter what happened, Hibiki could always find a way to make her feel better. She kissed Hibiki again, letting the shorter girl lead her toward the bed. ----- Umi/Nico scene - Nico thinking about moving away. ----

Rin gritted her teeth, her feet hitting the tarmac under her hard as she raced around the track. As comforting as Hibiki’s reassurances had been she still couldn’t get those comments out of her head. She knew that a lot of people saw her as boyish and she knew that to some degree that was her fault. She didn’t want to be seen that way but she had done the things she did, dressed the way she did for so long that it would be embarrassing to just change. A part of her wanted to change, at least sometimes and it was frustrating that she couldn’t. She cried out suddenly as pain shot up her leg. She stopped short, jumping up and down on one leg as she clutched her right leg. “Ow, ow, ow!” Her eyes smarted with tears as she dropped to the ground, still clutching her leg. It throbbed intensely, waves of pain cursing through it. “You okay? Looks like you have a cramp.” Rin looked up, squinting against the sunlight, lifting her free hand to shield her eyes so that she could see the girl standing over her. She didn’t recognize the blonde standing over her. The girl had short hair, just a little bit longer than Rin’s and dark brown eyes. She realized for the first time that the girl had spoken in english. “Huh?” “Um…” The girl knelt down next to Rin, pointing at her leg. “Does it hurt?” Rin narrowed her eyes, taking a moment to realize what had been said. She nodded silently. “Can I…?” The girl held her hands up and nodded to Rin’s leg. She waited for a nod before she reached out, pressing her fingers into the back of Rin’s calf. “It’ll feel better in a minute…” Rin cleared her throat, the pain in her leg dulling. The girl looked up, their eyes locking and Rin watched as the dark indigo eyes widened. After a moment they quickly darted away. “Uh…” Rin hesitated a moment before she continued in English. “I’m Hoshizora Rin. What’s your name?” The girl looked up, relief clear on her face. “Emily Steinberg. Sorry, you said your name is...Hoshizora...san?” Rin couldn’t help but smile, caught off guard by the girl’s puzzled expression. “You can call me Rin.” “Rin.” Emily repeated slowly, nodding her head in response. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. So her soulmate’s name was Rin. She bit her lip, moving her hands away from the other girl. “So I um...I can see color. Kind of. Since I looked into your eyes. Can you?” Rin frowned at the girl and shrugged her shoulder. “Uh...my English isn’t very good?” “Oh.” Emily frowned at the response. “Um…I…” She pointed to herself and then to her eyes. “Can see…color?” She made a explosion gesture with her hands, trying to articulate the suddenness of what had happened. Rin blinked at Emily for a moment. When the blonde girl pointed at her, her eyes widened in shock. “Wha..?! ME?!” She pointed to herself. Emily nodded, relieved that she had managed to get her point across. Her Japanese really was terrible. “Yes.” Rin slowly shook her head. That couldn’t be. She already had a soulmate. Surely she could only have one. “I-I have to go.” She mumbled, getting to her feet. Thankfully her leg felt a lot better now. “Um…” “Wait, wait!” Emily quickly stood up too, a worried look on her face. “Um...m-matte?” “I have a soulmate.” Rin said, her stomach sinking at the look on Emily’s face. She didn’t want to hurt the girl. Emily tilted her head in confusion. Rin sighed and glanced over her shoulder. As much as she just wanted to leave she didn’t want to leave Emily without an explanation. She went for her phone from the pocket of her hoodie and stepped forward, unlocking it. She pulled up a picture of herself and Hibiki and held it up for Emily to see. “My girlfriend.” “O-Oh.” Emily’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...assume anything.” Rin blinked. “What color are my eyes?” “Light green.” Emily answered without hesitation, staring into Rin’s eyes. Rin swallowed thickly and took a step back. She didn’t know how she was going to tell Hibiki what had happened. She noticed Emily smiling slightly. “W-What? Why are you looking at me like that?” “No reason.” Emily looked away, her cheeks flushing though it clearly took a lot of effort for her not to look at Rin again. “Sorry I acted so...forward. I just transferred here last week and I don’t have a lot of friends here and I thought...nevermind.” Rin frowned. The girl’s Japanese was broken but she understood her. “You transferred a week ago and you’re already on the track team, nya?” Emily smiled broadly. “Nya?” She saw Rin blush and chuckled softly. “Yes. A couple of girls from my class asked me. I used to run track at my old school in America. I lived in Connecticut. But I prefer soccer.” Rin felt herself relax slightly. “Why did you move all the way here?” “Ah...complicated.” Emily answered with a slight shrug of her shoulders. She paused for a moment, trying to think of what else to say. She didn’t want to stop talking to Rin but she felt like the girl would leave if she stopped talking. “Are you in a club?” “I’m…” Rin hesitated, biting her lip. “In a school idol group.” “Really?” Emily asked in surprise. “Like you sing and dance? That kind of thing?” Rin gave a sheepish laugh. “Yeah. Like that. Um...I should probably be going, um...Emily.” “Will I see you again?” Emily asked hopefully. “Maybe.” Rin answered hesitantly. She offered a small smile as she backed away. “We both go to the same school, right?” “R-Right.” Emily watched as Rin turned on her heel and walked away from her. “Wow…” --- Rin cleared her throat as she watched Hibiki browsing through her phone. She had been trying to gather the courage to bring the subject up with her girlfriend for the past hour but she hadn’t quite managed to. Hibiki looked up from her position lounging on the bed. “What’s up?” “Um..” Rin nervously bit her lip for a moment, her eyes darting briefly away. “Do you think it’s possible to have more than one soulmate?” “No.” Hibiki answered without hesitation. “I don’t think it is. I’ve never heard of it anyway.” Rin let out a sigh of relief. She had been worried that it was possible and that the girl had started seeing color because they were soulmates. That she hadn’t noticed herself because she could already see color because of Hibiki. “Right. So um...we said we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other, didn’t we? Even if the truth hurts.” Hibiki sat up, letting her phone fall to her side. She was concerned now, especially with Rin nervously fidgeting. “Yes…?” Rin swallowed thickly. “So there’s this...new girl at school. I met her yesterday. And I think she might be um...into me? To put it lightly…” Hibiki nodded, frowning. “Go on…” “Uh...she has dark blue eyes and natural blonde hair.” Rin continued nervously. “You certainly have a type.” Rin took a deep breath. Now for the hard part. “She saw my eye color.” “You’re saying...that’s impossible. She saw colors burst when she looked at you? You’re sure it wasn’t anyone else?” “I was the only runner!” Rin exclaimed, distressed by the situation. “A-And she wasn’t looking at anyone else. She was only looking at me.” Hibiki was silent for a moment. “I’ve heard...of one-sided soulmates maybe. Maybe you are her soulmate. It basically just means you’d be perfect for her, doesn’t it?” Rin nodded mutely. Hibiki let out a sigh. “If she can see color because of you she’s not going to stay away from you. She’ll want to get to know you. What’s her name anyway?” “Emily.” Rin answered softly. “She transferred from America.” She watched Hibiki closely but her girlfriend’s expression gave nothing away. “What are you thinking?” “I...don’t know.” Hibiki said honestly. Her thoughts were jumbled and racing. “Sounds complicated, I guess. Um...have fun with that?” “Hibiki.” Rin frowned at the response. “You’re not going to say anything else? I might have another soulmate and that’s all you’re going to say?” Hibiki twitched at the remark and she gritted her teeth. “I still don’t think it’s possible. She better keep her hands to herself though, that’s all I’m saying.” Rin rolled her eyes as Hibiki picked up her phone and went back to whatever she had been doing a moment ago. “You’re not jealous?” Hibiki let out a slow breath. “Rin, I’m trying to keep myself from hurting this girl. If you think there’s a reason I should be jealous, I’ll stop trying to hold myself ba-” “No, no, no. I-It’s not like that…” Rin said holding up her hands. Hibiki stared at her phone screen, not wanting to meet Rin’s eyes. “You’re my soulmate, Rin. You opened up my world. Of course I don’t want someone else to take you. I just don’t want to think about it and I just...hope she gets the picture and this passes. I’d die without you, you know that. Can we please just stop talking about this?” Rin nodded, guilty forming in her stomach at the sight of Hibiki’s hurt expression. “Right, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” “I’m not upset.” Rin smiled a little. “You think I’m special.” “More than that. You’re my soulmate, you idiot.” Hibiki mumbled, putting her phone down again. “My only soulmate.” “I’m not going to do anything, I promise.” Rin moved toward Hibiki, resting her head on the girl’s shoulder. “I’m not a cheater. Besides, I love you.” “I know. I trust you.” Hibiki took Rin’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m not saying I don’t. It’s just the idea of losing you freaks me out.” “You’re not going to lose me. I promise.” Rin pressed a gentle kiss to Hibiki’s cheek, trying to soothe her. Hibiki nodded, trying to ignore the anxious feeling niggling at her. ---- Emily looked up at the sound of footsteps approaching her. She felt a flutter in her stomach when she saw Rin turn the corner, walking down the row of lockers. “Oh…” Rin paused a couple of lockers away. “Emily. Um...hi.” “Hey.” Emily said with a small smile. “Didn’t think I’d see you so soon.” “I-I wasn’t looking for you. I just thought I’d go for a run…” Rin paused as Emily tugged her school shirt off. Her eyes moved down of their own accord and widened at the sight of the blonde girl’s refined abs. She gulped. Hibiki was toned but she didn’t have abs. “Relax, I was just heading out too.” Emily said with a shrug of her shoulders. “It helps to clear my head.” Rin blinked in surprise. “Your Japanese is a little better.” “I’ve been practicing.” Emily beamed at the praised. “I’m still a little…” her brow furrowed. “Rusty.” Rin couldn’t help but chuckle at the small injection of English at the end. “I’ve been practicing my English too.” “So you can talk to me?” Rin wanted to say no. She wanted to deny that she was interested in Emily but the blonde looked too hopeful. “Ah...yeah, nya. I mean yes.” Emily tugged her shirt on over her head. “You don’t have to do that, you know. I mean...stop saying nya. It’s a tick or something, right? I think it’s cute.” Rin blushed and glanced away, rubbing the back of her neck. “I should probably go.” “I thought you were going for a run?” Emily asked, raising an eyebrow. “If you want, I’ll run in the opposite direction. That way we’ll only have to pass each other now and then.” “W-What…? It’s not like I’m avoiding you or anything, nya...argh, I mean…” Rin groaned and sat down on the bench behind her. Emily hesitated for a moment, glancing around before she went to sit next to Rin, straddling the bench. “Do you want to...talk about it? I know this must be...weird for you. If you want to ask me anything you can.” Rin sighed softly and cast a sidelong glance at Emily. “Can you see color now? Permanently?” Emily nodded silently. “Because of me?” Rin prompted, lowering her voice in case anyone overheard them. “You’re sure?” “I’m completely sure.” Emily answered sincerely. “I’ve been seeing color ever since I met your eyes.” Rin leaned forward, holding her chest. She could feel Hibiki’s insecurities, even now. “I have a girlfriend. I have my soulmate already.” “I get that.” Emily answered thoughtfully. “But that doesn’t stop us being friends, does it?” Rin bit the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t promise their relationship would stay at just friendship, that was the problem. “N-No…” Emily heard the emotional tone of Rin’s voice and leaned in, hugging her from the side. “Let’s just...see how it goes, okay? If you want to stop being friends, if...it gets weird for you, we can. Let’s just start with going for a run together.” Rin let out a slow breath. Emily was too nice. It didn’t hurt that the girl’s body felt good pressed against her. “So you don’t like me...like that?” Emily leaned back, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Well...you know, you’re um...you’re cute. And pretty. Obviously. But I don’t know you very well so…” Rin frowned at her. “Pretty?” “What?” Emily rolled her eyes at the confusion in Rin’s voice. “Nobody’s ever called you that before?” “Well my girlfriend has.” Rin answered slowly. “Not anyone that wasn’t her.” “That’s surprising.” Emily said thoughtfully. She got up, offering a small smile. “So do you want to go for that run?” “Um…” Rin hesitated for a moment before nodding in response. “O-Okay. I just have to get changed.” “Right. I’ll see you out there then.” Emily said, figuring Rin wouldn’t want her to stay while she undressed. “Right…” Rin watched as Emily left the locker room, inadvertently taking in the sight of her butt as she walked away. “Butts are nice…” When she was alone, she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She tried to tell herself that she wasn’t doing anything wrong but her stomach felt twisted with guilt. It had to be wrong to pursue anything with Emily. She looked to her bag, sitting next to one of the lockers. Maybe she should just leave without going out to run with Emily. That would make everything much simpler. She already had a soulmate, she didn’t need to pursue anything with another ‘soulmate’. “Damn it…”

She struggled with her decision for a moment before she got up and approached her locker to get changed. ---- Hibiki sighed heavily, propping her cheek against her closed fist as she stared down at her homework. She had been hoping that Rin would come over to save her from being bored but her girlfriend hadn’t even text her after school. The thought made her uneasy, especially after Rin’s confession a couple of days ago. Just as she was about to go back to her homework she heard her phone ring and quickly reached out to grab it. She saw Rin’s name on the screen and quickly answered the call, lifting the phone to her ear. “Hello?” “Hi, Hibiki-chan.” Rin’s voice sounded on the other end of the line. “I just finished my run and I thought I would call you.” “Good.” Hibiki said with a small smile. “I didn’t know if I would hear from you today. Is everything okay?” “I just...wanted to tell you something. I-I know you said you don’t want to hear about her but I would feel bad if I didn’t tell you and...um...I went running with Emily.” “Oh.” The smile that had lingered on Hibiki’s lips slipped away and she felt a tightness form in her chest. She cleared her throat. “So you two are friends now?” “M-Maybe…but just friends.” “Friends and soulmates. Sounds familiar.” “Hibiki…” “Right, sorry.” Hibiki ran a hand over her face, sighing in exasperation. “I guess that was a bit bitter, huh? Just...am I not enough, Rin?” “No!” Rin exclaimed loudly. “I mean...yes, you are. It’s not that. Don’t say things like that.” “What am I supposed to think?” Hibiki asked, her shoulders slumped in defeat. She felt a lump form in her throat and her eyes prickled with tears. “You’re off with some girl who’s claiming to be your soulmate. I’m your soulmate! I’m…” “I love you.” Rin whispered, her own voice taut with emotion. “I’d die without you, Hibiki.” Hibiki bit down hard on her lip, so hard that she accidentally drew blood. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” “I don’t know either.” Rin admitted hoarsely. “I love you. But...I feel like I can’t stay away from her.” Hibiki closed her eyes, gritting her teeth together. “Maybe...if you um…” She took a deep breath, trying to force her words out. “If you take some time to figure out what you want. Like...we take a break.” Rin inhaled sharply. “Break up? What? No! I don’t want that!” “Not break up, just...I’ll give you some space.” Hibiki reasoned, even as her eyes misted over at the thought. “And you can figure out this thing with...Emily.” “Nya, no!” Rin exclaimed loudly. “I want to be near you. I can’t function without sleeping next to you, nya.” Hibiki was silently, biting her lip once more. “Please.” Rin pleaded on the other end of the line. “Nya, understand I don’t want us to fall apart. We...we did that! We’re bonded now. Please, she isn’t special, she just made me happy because someone besides you thinks I’m pretty. You’re still the one I’m in love with. And you always will be.” Hibiki felt the dull pain that lingered in her chest sharpen and knew immediately that it was Rin’s more than her own. “Okay, no space then. If you don’t want it.” “I don’t.” Rin said quickly. “D-Do you?” Hibiki let out a soft sigh in response to the question. “No.” “I’ll come over now.” Rin said in relief. “I love you, Hibiki. I really love you.” “I know.” Hibiki whispered,blinking back tears. “I’ll wait for you.” “I’m coming nyaow!” Hibiki ended the call and placed her phone back on the desk in front of her. She stared at it for a long moment, her thoughts racing. She couldn’t help but worry that Rin would get closer and closer to Emily and that she would end up losing her. --- “I’m worried that Rin likes someone else!” Hibiki squeezed her eyes shut as she blurted the words out. She didn’t even want to say them. She felt like if she voiced her fears it would mean they were more likely to come true. Not only that but she was worried how Hanayo and Miyu were going to react to what she had said. “Seriously?” Miyu gaped at Hibiki in shock. Hanayo on the other hand, scoffed, though she did look equally as surprised. “No way. Rin-chan would never like anyone besides you. You two are practically married. There’s a reason everyone calls you the married couple. Why would you even think that anyway?” Hibiki sighed, her shoulders slumping. She had figured that was the reaction she would get. “She met a transfer student...who said that she can see color after looking into Rin’s eyes. Like she’s her soulmate or something.” Miyu frowned in confusion. “But you’re Rin’s soulmate.” “I know!” “Is it possible to have more than one soulmate?” Hanayo asked, perplexed by the idea. “Maybe it is. Maybe it just hasn’t happened before because it’s rare enough that you find your actual soulmate...even if it does seem to happen a lot around here…” “I-I don’t know.” Hibiki groaned miserably and let her head fall into her hands. “Rin said that she doesn’t think she can stay away from this girl. What am I supposed to think?” “Rin-chan wouldn’t cheat on you.” Hanayo said confidently. “I don’t think Rin would cheat on anyone but especially not you. She loves you. You have to be sure of that at least...aren’t you?” Hibiki nodded silently in response. She knew that Rin loved her. That wasn’t the problem. “Maybe she saw someone else briefly before she saw Rin?” Miyu suggested hopefully. “Maybe it isn’t what she thinks? I don’t think it’s possible for someone to have two soulmates. And maybe Rin is just reading too much into it? Maybe she’s just worried that she won’t be able to stay away from this new girl because she doesn’t want to do anything to hurt you.” Hanayo nodded emphatically. “Things between the two of you have always been kind of...simple and easy. This complicates things for her.” “Yeah…” Hibiki mumbled unhappily, leaning back in her seat. “I’m not saying she’s going to cheat on you.” Hanayo said insistently. “I don’t even think she has feelings for this girl she’s met. She’s just...confused and worried that she’s going to hurt someone. Rin-chan wouldn’t want to hurt anyone, especially you. Trust me. I know her almost as well as you do.” Hibiki managed a small smile at that. She knew Hanayo was probably right. “I know. I just don’t know what I would do if I lost her. I can barely remember what my life was like before she was part of it. I don’t know what I would do if I had to go back to that.” “You won’t have to.” Hanayo said softly. She reached out and gently touched Hibiki’s hand, trying to soothe her. “Rin-chan isn’t going to leave you. Nothing’s going to change. Just talk to her and tell her how you feel. She’ll understand. It’s not as though she hasn’t worried about losing you before. Hibiki’s brow furrowed at the thought. “That’s not going to happen. There’s nobody better for me than Rin.” “I know that. Everyone else knows that. But she has her doubts sometimes.” Hanayo replied with a small smile. “Just like you have yours. You need to talk to her, Hibiki. Trust me. Only Rin-chan can tell you how she really feels.” “I know.” Hibiki took a deep breath, steeling herself. “Thanks, Hanayo. Miyu.” Hanayo nodded with a small smile. “I won’t tell Rin-chan you said anything to me about this. If she needs me she’ll come to me when she’s ready.” “Thanks.” Hibiki said gratefully. “I’ll go and talk to her now. I’ll see you two later. Miyu lifted her hand in a wave as Hibiki quickly left the living room, obviously heading for the front door. Indeed, she heard it open and then shut a moment later. ---- “Onee-chan, I’m heading out for a bit!” Yukiho called as she slid her shoes on. “Don’t forget to watch the shop like mom asked!” “I will!” “And don’t get distracted by Ayase-san!” “I’ll try not to!” Honoka answered though the way she giggled right after made Yukiho doubt that. Yukiho rolled her eyes and got up, leaving the house. She closed the door behind her before she turned and jogged down the path. She needed to get out of the house. She needed to figure out what was going on with her and why she could suddenly see color for apparently no reason. One moment she had been wandering past the track at school and the next moment her world had exploded in color. She was freaking out to say the least. She couldn’t get the blonde from that day off her mind either. Their eyes had only met for a second across the field while the blonde had bent down to help Rin but the brief meeting of their eyes had changed everything. Yukiho was embarrassed to say that she had run away. She knew it wasn’t a ‘normal’ reaction to seeing one’s soulmate for the first time but she had panicked. Afterwards, she hadn’t been able to think about the girl without feeling a knot of worry. She hadn’t even been able to tell Honoka about her. Yukiho turned the corner at the end of her street, her pace picking up a little. She wasn’t sure what she was doing but she felt like she needed to go back to where she had seen the girl. Maybe she would be there again. Yukiho felt herself collide with someone, knocking them both off balance. She felt strong hands grip her arms as she fell forward and heard a sharp intake of breath before she landed on top of the person she had bumped into. “Crap, are you okay?!” Yukiho looked down at the girl in surprise, confused by the fact that she had spoken in English rather than Japanese. “H-Huh? Wait, you’re…you’re her!” The blonde girl’s brow furrowed for a moment. “Emily.” She said, pointing to herself. “Um...let me help you.” “S-Sorry.” Yukiho stuttered, realizing she was still on top of Emily. She scrambled to her feet and watched as the other girl got up too. “I um...I saw you at the high school a few days ago. Running track?” Emily was silent for a moment before she nodded her head. “I joined the track team. Do you go to the school?” “Me? N-No, I’m in middle school.” Yukiho said, blushing. “Um...I-I don’t really know how to say this but I looked into your eyes the other day and now I can see color!” Emily’s eyes widened in surprise after a moment as she took in what Yukiho had said. “What?!” “I-I don’t…” Yukiho leaned in, kissing Emily quickly before she turned and ran away. Emily gasped as everything suddenly brightened around her, the colors becoming clearer and more distinct. “W-Wait!” She called out. It was too late though. Yukiho had already disappeared from view. Emily groaned and pressed her hand to her forehead. “What the hell…?” ---- “Emily?” Emily looked up, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw Rin walking toward her. “Thank you for coming.” Rin nodded in response, pausing in front of Emily. She almost hadn’t met up with her, if she was honest. She had felt too guilty about what it would do to Hibiki. “Why the auditorium?” Emily shrugged her shoulders. “I figured it would be empty after school. And I wanted to talk to you in private. About...something important.” Rin nodded, her heart in her throat. She fidgeted awkwardly, hoping that Emily wasn’t about to confess her feelings or anything. “W-What is it?” Emily closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “I made a mistake!” She blurted out. She opened her eyes just to see Rin’s reaction. The other girl merely looked confused. “W-When I said you were my soulmate. I’ve realized I must have looked at someone else. I-I ran into her yesterday and she kissed me and...and I don’t know who she is exactly because she ran away but...I know you’re not my soulmate. I’m so sorry.” “Seriously?” Rin gaped at Emily in shock. “Y-Yeah, I’m sorry, I…” Emily trailed off as Rin moved forward and hugged her exuberantly. “Thank you!” Rin laughed with relief as she hugged Emily. “W-What…?” Rin leaned back, tears at the corners of her eyes. “I was so worried about Hibiki...my girlfriend. I didn’t want to do anything to hurt her and I thought that you being my soulmate would make it impossible for me not to hurt her. Thank you for telling me.” Emily guiltily bit her lip. “I really caused a lot of trouble for you, huh? I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to.” Rin shook her head. “It’s okay, it was just an accident. I would have thought the same if I was you.” Emily managed a small smile at that. “We can still be friends though, can’t we? Even if we’re not connected?” “Sure.” Rin answered hurriedly. “But tell me what the girl looks like, nya!” Emily blushed at the question. “Small.” “Nya?!” “She’s a third year middle school student.” “NYAAA?! What school?” “Rin…” Emily grumbled awkwardly. “I don’t know. She has red hair and ocean blue eyes.” Rin’s eyes widened. “Um...do you know why she was walking to the high school?” “No. But she lives in the small shopping district near aki-ba…? My guardian owns an antique shop in that area. I live upstairs in her apartment.” “Nyaaaa, Honoka-chan is going to kill me!” Rin exclaimed, wide eyed. “Huh?” Emily asked, tilting her head in confusion. “Who is...Honoka? Wait, is that my soulmate? Do you know her?!” “N-No...Honoka-chan isn’t your soulmate.” Rin sighed heavily. “Honoka-chan is my friend and...she’s in Muse too. I think her younger sister is your soulmate.” “Really?” Emily asked excitedly, her heart leaping in her chest. “Do you know where she lives? Can I meet her?” “Uh...you might want to take it a little bit slower.” Rin said with a soft chuckle as she placed her hand on Emily’s arm. “I know you’re excited but this is um...probably all new to Yukiho.” “Yukiho…” Emily said slowly, trying the name out. She nodded solemnly at Rin. “Right, sorry. Um...she did seem a little bit scared. Maybe that’s why she ran away. Maybe she’s scared of me. Argh, why do I always make such a bad first impression?” “You don’t.” Rin said, watching Emily mentally kick herself. She felt sorry for the girl. “Once she gets to know you, it’ll be fine. I promise. I’ll um...talk to Honoka-chan and maybe I’ll be able to introduce you to her. Emily smiled brightly at the idea and nodded her head. “Speaking of meeting people, nya…” Rin said carefully. “Maybe I could introduce you to my girlfriend. To show her you’re not a threat.” Emily’s smile slipped. “Ugh...I don’t know, Rin. She probably wants to kill me.” “She doesn’t, I promise!” Rin exclaimed, clasping her hands together. “Please? Please, Emily?” “Fine.” Emily grumbled, rolling her eyes. “If you really want me to.” “I do. Oh, I should be going. I need to...talk to Hibiki. I’ll text you later!” Rin said brightly. With a quick wave she turned and bolted toward the auditorium doors. Emily sighed. She was still confused but she was glad that Rin was happy at least. ---- “This is like our second date.” “And it’s another double date.” Nico sighed with a roll of her eyes. “What the hell? How did we get into this?” Umi smirked knowingly in response. “You wanted to get a moped since you just got your license, senpai.” Nico blushed furiously. “Don’t call me that!” She glanced over at Saya and Nozomi, frowning. Saya seemed to be talking with the owner of the moped, looking for a good bargain. “How do you think she’s doing?” “Um…” Umi hesitated for a moment until Nozomi turned to her with a small smile. “Nozomi seems to think it’s going well at least.” “Good.” Nico said with a relieved sigh as she turned to the moped. “It’s a beauty though! Red and sleek. And I’m gonna drive you around, wherever you want to go.” Umi smiled softly at that. Nico seemed genuinely excited about the moped even though she had been embarrassed to accept the money offered to her by Kaiyo. “Well this date is original at least. It’s not like any other date I’ve been on.” “You’ve been on one date.” Nico pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “Unless you’ve been on other dates you haven’t told me about?” “Of course I haven’t.” Umi said, shaking her head. “I’ve only ever been on dates with you.” “Good.” Nico smiled smugly and crossed her arms in front of her chest. She was about to say something else when she noticed Saya walking over to her, an equally victorious look on her face too. “So?” “Got it.” Saya tossed a set of keys to Nico who barely managed to catch them. “It’s all yours. Wanna follow me to the restaurant? I’ll take Nozomi, you can bring Umi, okay?” “R-Right.” Nico stuttered, wide eyed. Saya nodded and walked away with Nozomi. “Think she’ll be okay on that?” “I think so.” Nozomi said even though she looked a little wary. “Maybe you should have taken Umi-chan instead?” “And let you on someone else’s bike?” Saya scoffed and curled an arm around Nozomi’s waist as they walked. “Hell no.” Nozomi chuckled softly at the comment but she couldn’t help but worry about Umi and Nico. As she got onto the bike behind Saya she glanced over at Nico to see her staring in confusion at the helmet in her hands. “Give it to your girlfriend!” Saya called over, cupping her hands in front of her mouth. She glanced briefly over her shoulder to make sure Nozomi was wearing hers. “Right. Sorry, Umi.” Nico mumbled, passing the helmet over to Umi. Saya rolled her eyes and started the engine of her bike. She waited until Nico and Umi were situated before she drove off down the road. Nozomi sighed softly, her grip tight around Saya’s waist. She didn’t pay much attention to where they were going, more focused on whether Nico was keeping up. Thankfully she was. They pulled up outside a restaurant and Nozomi got off the bike along with Saya. “This is the place you chose?” Nico asked in disbelief as she joined Nozomi and Saya along with Umi. “Isn’t this a bit...pretentious? I don’t even think I’m dressed for this place.” Saya sighed and rolled her eyes in annoyance. “I told you, I’m not taking my girlfriend on a date to an arcade.” Nico growled under her breath. “At least it would have been fun. This place looks boring.” “Boring for a kid maybe. But me and my girlfriend are-” Saya cut herself off, taking a deep breath. As much as Nico riled her up she had promised she would try to be nice. “Uh…” Nozomi piped up awkwardly, her hand resting gently on Saya’s arm. “Let’s go in and eat and then we can go home, okay?” Umi cleared her throat and took Nico’s hand, hoping to calm her. “Maybe it would be nice to just sit down and eat together. Right, Nico?” “If you say so.” Nico mumbled though she decided to keep herself from snapping back at Saya. She didn’t want to ruin the date for Umi after all. “Let’s just go in and find a table.” “I actually reserved a table at the back.” Saya corrected Nico. “Of course you did.” Nico mumbled, gesturing for Saya to go ahead. When she did, along with Nozomi, Nico and Umi followed them inside. “Please be nice.” Umi pleaded softly as they walked along behind Saya and Nozomi. “She’s Hisa’s friend. And...I guess, my sister’s too. I don’t want her to hate me.” Nico huffed. “Fine, I’ll try.” Umi breathed a sigh of relief at the agreement. They reached the table and Nico took her seat first, followed by Umi. “Oh, I’ll get it.” Saya said quickly as Nozomi took off her jacket. She rushed to pull Nozomi’s chair out for her, almost stumbling in the process. “Klutz.” Nico remarked with a roll of her eyes though she paused, noticing that Umi was grinning at Saya and Nozomi. “Seriously, Umi?” “What?” Umi muttered, her voice low. “You have to admit they’re cute together.” “If you say so.” Nico mumbled as she watched Saya take her seat next to Nozomi, a sheepish look on her face. She frowned slightly, wondering if Umi wanted that kind of treatment. She worried her lower lip. She wasn’t sure she knew how to act like that. “So what do you think of your bike, Nico?” Saya asked, hoping to ease the tension. “You must be happy with it.” “I am.” Nico said, perking up a little. She didn’t feel the need to say anything else though. “If you have any questions you can just give me a call…or call Nozomi. I’m home most of the time anyway.” Saya said with a small smile as she glanced at Nozomi. “Sure.” Nico answered simply. Thankfully the sudden silence that followed was cut short as the waitress came over to take their orders. She placed her order of udon, not listening to the others place their own orders. She was still too concerned with Umi. She quickly shook her head when the waitress walked away, focusing on the conversation. “Wanna share desert?” Nozomi asked with a slight smile as she took Saya’s hand atop the table. “Of course.” Saya answered brightly, giving the hand in her own a quick squeeze. Nico shook her head and glanced at Umi, noticing that she was blushing slightly. “Oh!” Saya exclaimed suddenly, breaking Nico from her thoughts. “I forgot to ask...Izetta is coming over on Friday night. Is it okay if she stays in the spare room? I haven’t gotten to spend much time with her lately.” “Sure.” Nozomi answered brightly. “Want me to make myself scarce? I can stay over at Elichi’s.” “No, no, no.” Saya vehemently shook her head. “I want you there. Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with my two favourite people at the same time?” Nico frowned in confusion. “Why can’t you just stay at your own apartment? Why Eli’s?” Nozomi froze at the sound of Nico’s voice, as if she had forgotten she was there. “Oh...I don’t have my apartment anymore. I um...moved in with Saya 2 months ago.” “WHAT?!” Nozomi grimaced at the volume of Nico’s voice. “I was going to tell you. Everyone from Muse. I only really told Eli. And...Chrom-kun, Uni-chan, Raven-kun and Hisa-san.” “My friends helped us move in.” Saya said hastily before Nico had a chance to get the wrong idea. “It’s not like you were the last to know.” Nico exhaled a breath. “Moving a little bit fast, aren’t you? What about university? When you graduate?” “Oh. I already know I’m not moving away.” Nozomi answered simply. “I’m going to Tokyo U...probably. If not, I’ll commute to whichever university I end up studying at. Are you thinking about...moving away?” Nico felt her stomach sink at the question, especially when she noticed Umi look at her with a hint of worry. “W-We’re not talking about me! All I’m saying is you might be moving a bit fast.” “I’ve been with Saya for over a year. And I love her.” Nozomi answered, squeezing Saya’s hand. “Why would we wait to live together?” “I-I just think you’re moving too fast, that’s all.” Nico said indignantly though she didn’t have much of a response to Nozomi’s question. She knew that Nozomi was right after all. Nico wished that she herself was more confident about what she would be doing in the future. “Let’s just talk about something else, okay? It seems like all we ever talk about now is relationships.” Umi shrugged as Nozomi shot her a worried look. She didn’t know what was going on with Nico either. ---- “Stop being so stubborn, Nicocchi.” Nozomi groaned in exasperation as she sat down next to Nico in the library. “Just take the entrance exam for Tokyo U. It doesn’t hurt to have a backup plan, does it?” Nico sighed, shooting Nozomi an exasperated look as she glanced up from studying. “You’re only saying that because you want me to go to Tokyo U.” “I bet I’m not the only one who wants it.” Nozomi said pointedly. “What about Umi-chan? She must want you to stay, doesn’t she?” “I...haven’t really talked to her about my plans.” Nico said with a slight grimace at the thought of doing so. “So I don’t know. I think she’d support me though.” “Probably.” Nozomi said with a roll of her eyes. “Even if she wanted you to stay close to her she’d tell you to leave. Sound familiar?” Nico scoffed. “We’re nothing like Maki and Kotori.” “Really? You two weren’t even soulmates and yet you became something like soulmates. Didn’t you?” Nozomi asked, frustrated that Nico wasn’t seeing reason. “And you know that Umi would always put your happiness first. Just like you would for her?” Nico sighed. “Why does that sound like a question?” “Because it is. At least consider applying to Tokyo U. Take the entrance exam. What’s the worst that could happen?” Nozomi asked hopefully. “You decide you want to stay? That has to be better then moving around all of the time, right?” “All of the time? It would only be…” Nico trailed off, noticing that Nozomi was glaring at her. “Fine. Okay. I see your point. I’ll think about it. But not because you asked me to. For Umi. That’s all.” “Good.” Nozomi said, beaming. “You really love her, huh?” “Of course I do.” Nico muttered, feeling her cheeks warm at the admission. “I don’t give a crap that she’s not my soulmate. It doesn’t matter to us. We’re still connected. And we will be even if I leave to go to university.” “Alright, alright. I get it.” Nozomi said with a roll of her eyes. “I just figured it would be nice for the two of you to be close, that’s all. At least ask her how she feels about it before you make a decision. Just because long distance will work for you, that doesn’t mean it’s going to work for her too.” Nico sighed but begrudgingly nodded her head. She knew that Nozomi was right, at least in a sense. “Oh, I have to go and meet Saya.” Nozomi said suddenly, quickly getting up. “I’ll talk to you later, Nicocchi.” “Bye.” Nico said softly, her thoughts shifting to Umi. She looked down at the books spread out in front of her. As much as she wanted to be sure that she was going to the right university she didn’t want her relationship with Umi to suffer because she had to move away. She sat there for a few minutes, mulling over her decision until she felt a hand touch her shoulder. She flinched and looked up, ready to tell the person to back off but relaxed when she saw it was Umi standing next to her. “Hey.” Umi said with a small smile as she sat down next to Nico. “Studying for exams?” “Something like that.” Nico said with a soft sigh as she glanced over at her books. “At least until Nozomi interrupted me earlier. I can’t focus now.” Umi stared at Nico contemplatively for a moment. “Why?” “Just thinking.” Nico nervously worried her lip for a moment before speaking again. “I’m trying to figure out which college to go to. Whether it’s here in Tokyo or...a little further away. Is that going to be a problem for us?” Umi’s expression flickered for a brief second before she schooled her features into a neutral expression. “Um...no. If you want to move away to go to university, I’ll support you. Whatever you need.” Nico sighed heavily. Nozomi had said that Umi would say something like that. “Yeah, that’s what I figured. Would you want me to stay though?” Umi’s brow furrowed in confusion. “It’s not my decision to make. I would prefer to be with you, of course. But you shouldn’t let me hold you back from what you want to do. Besides we can...see each other during holidays. And we’ll talk on the phone, right? Don’t worry about me, Nico. I can take care of myself.” Nico swallowed thickly but nodded her head. She knew that Umi was putting up a brave front. “Right. I’ll...think more about what I’m going to do and I-I guess I’ll tell you when I make up my mind?” Umi forced a smile to her lips. She really didn’t want Nico to go but at the same time she couldn’t hold her back from what she wanted. “Good. Do you know what Nozomi and Eli are doing about university yet?” Nico shrugged. “Last I heard from Eli she was planning to take a gap year or something. I think she might have changed her mind now though. As for Nozomi, I think she’s going to Tokyo U. So she can keep living with Saya.” “She lives with her?” Umi gaped at Nico in surprise. “Nozomi didn’t tell us that. How long has she lived with her?” “A couple of months.” “She’s so mature…” Umi mumbled to herself in awe. “That’s what I...wait, what?” Nico frowned at Umi’s response. “Don’t you think it’s a little too soon for them to be moving in together?” “Not really.” Umi answered sheepishly. “They’ve been together over a year now. Besides, they lived next door to each other. It would have been practical for them to move in together.” Nico considered that for a moment before nodding her agreement. “Yeah, I guess you might be right.” “Maybe we could...move in together too. Maybe after I graduate?” Umi suggested hopefully. “If you move, I could go to the same university as you after I graduate. I know that means we’ll still be apart for a year but…” “Yes.” Nico said quickly. “Let’s do that. I don’t want to break up or anything just because I might be moving away. It won’t be forever.” Umi nodded, feeling slightly more optimistic at the thought. At least whatever distance ended up being between them wouldn’t be forever. “Come on, let’s go home. You can study tomorrow, okay?” Nico opened her mouth to argue but stopped at the last second, deciding that she could stop studying for at least a night. If she really was going to leave she wanted to spend as much time as possible with Umi before she did. She got up, letting Umi take her hand and tug her out of the library. --- Hanayo glanced around the living room as she waited for Chrom and Miyu to come back in from the kitchen. She could hear them laughing about something. It seemed like Anju heard as well as she was sitting on the couch with a fond smile on her face. Hanayo bit her lip. If she was honest, a year ago she would never have imagined that she would start to spend her time with her girlfriend, her girlfriend’s brother and her girlfriend’s brother’s girlfriend but she had found, much to her surprise, that she wouldn’t change a thing about it. Chrom had been nothing but open and accepting of her and seemed to think of her as one of the family now. Anju herself has taken on somewhat of an older sister role. “M-Miyu, I told you, don’t…” “Onii-san can see color!” Miyu blurted out as she walked into the room holding two bowls of popcorn. A flustered Chrom followed her, carrying drinks for the group. “Miyu, I told you not to tell them yet.” Chrom sighed heavily, exasperated by Miyu ignoring him. He glanced at Anju out of the corner of his eye, trying to gauge her reaction. “Uh...yeah, I can see color.” Anju stared at Chrom in shock. “Because of…?” She paused, pointing at herself. Chrom gave an awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah. Pretty sure, anyway. It’s not constant or anything but...yeah.” “Let’s not talk about makeouts and enjoy family time!” Hanayo laughed. “Miyu and I make out all of the time, it’s fine.” Miyu blushed. “Hanayo!” “What…? Oh yeah, I’m usually on top.” Chrom cringed at the comment. “Too much information, Hanayo! I don’t need that mental image!” “Sorry, Chrom-san.” Hanayo said with an apologetic smile as Miyu walked over to her, squeezing onto the chair with her. “But I’m happy for you. That you can see color now.” Chrom cleared his throat as he looked to Anju. “We’ll figure it out.” He said, noticing that she looked a little unsure of herself. “It doesn’t change anything.” Anju nodded, breathing a soft sigh of relief. “Whose turn is it to choose the movie?” “Mine.” Miyu piped up. She looked toward Hanayo with a small smile. “Don’t worry, I chose something you’ll like.” Chrom groaned. “When’s it going to be my turn again?” Miyu rolled her eyes. “You forfeit your turn when you chose another scary movie. You know Hanayo doesn’t like them.” “Right, sorry.” Chrom mumbled sheepishly. “What are we watching?” “Rent.” Miyu answered, pressing play. Chrom let out an exaggerated groan. “Seriously?! You know, I actually don’t feel too well, I might have to...” “Stay.” Anju said, tugging Chrom back down as he started to get up. “It’ll be fun, I promise.” “Fine, if you want.” Chrom answered with a roll of his eyes though his voice lacked any malice. He settled back on the couch, his arm brushing against Anju’s as he focused on the movie. “But I’m picking the movie next time.” TBC