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idy-ll-ique · 3 years

Text

All Mine.

Pairing: Andy Barber x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: age gap, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, squirting (damn)

Requested: nope

Summary: Andy Barber has been through a lot. After getting a divorce from his ex-wife, he moves into the house next to the Y/L/Ns. And he has his eyes on Y/N since day one. Little does he know, Y/N likes him too and things get interesting one night.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Before you ask, no, I haven't watched Defending Jacob yet because I do not have the attention span to watch an entire series. So yeah, this has no spoilers. Also, I'm asexual so don't @ me for the smut please and thank you. Enjoy!

---

"Good morning, Mr Barber!"

He looked up from his phone and saw his neighbor smiling at him. He grinned back at her, his mood immediately lightening. "Hi, Y/N! How many times have I told you, call me Andy," he chided gently, keeping his phone away. "Okay, okay, just feels a little weird, ya know? Anyway, what are you doing here? You almost never take the bus," Y/N chuckled.

He flashed her another grin, his boyish side automatically coming out. It always happened when she was near. Y/N Y/L/N was Andy Barber's cute neighbor, but the only thing is, she was way, way younger than he was, her parents were just a couple of years older than him. Despite the huge age-gap, Y/N had won his heart. And he didn't mind in the slightest.

"My car broke down yesterday, it's at the auto repair shop. I got no other vehicle," he shrugged. Y/N nodded just as she saw her bus approaching. "Are you getting on this one?" she asked him and he squinted. "Nah, not this one. Are you?" She verbally confirmed a yes and turned to look at him fully. "I'll see you later, Mr Barber, bye!" With that, she waved at him and stepped into the bus.

"Andy!" he mouthed when she sat near the window seat, giggling. "Andy," she repeated, winking at him just as the bus turned around the corner. A laugh involuntarily escaped his lips as he ran a hand through his hair. Oh, what am I gonna do with you, angel? Inside the bus, Y/N had to keep herself from fidgeting, too overstimulated after her conversation with the handsome lawyer.

She had had a crush on him ever since he had moved in next-door. Her parents had immediately invited the lone man to dinner and he had, thankfully, accepted. They had a lot of fun; Andy was a proper gentleman, well-spoken, intelligent and extremely handsome. Y/N got a crush on him on the first day itself. She knew about the things his family had been through, and the thought crushed her.

Can't even imagine, your own child, guilty of murder?

Andy and his ex-wife, Laurie had divorced immediately after their son's trial. It was all months ago, though, Andy was doing much better now. He had Y/N, after all. In his thoughts only, but that would suffice. Because he knew, she'd never fall for him. Why would she? He was much older than her, a divorced man, with a son who got convicted for murder.

But Y/N didn't care about any of those things. She liked the Andy who was her awesome, good looking and smart neighbor. That's all that mattered to her. But then came another problem, Y/N's parents. Would they be okay with her going out with him? Of course not! Y/N sighed and leaned her head against the window of the bus; oh God, what ever was she gonna do?

Andy had ruined all men for her.

---

"Come in!"

Looking up, a surprised gasp left the mouths of both; the person inside the office and the person at the door. "Y/N?" Andy blurted out. "Mr Barber?" Y/N blinked as well. "Andy," he corrected incessantly and she waved her arm in dismissal. "Wow, I, uh… I didn't realize— you don't have a name plate outside—" He motioned to the chair in front of him and she sat.

"What happened, darling?"

Y/N unconsciously shivered at the nickname. She loved it when he called her that. "I don't know, my colleague sent me here, she was busy… gave me the address and said there was a file she needed…" Y/N spoke unsurely. Her eyes quickly skimmed over his figure; he had taken off the trenchcoat he was wearing in the morning, leaving him in a tight, white shirt, black trousers and a tie hanging loosely around his neck.

The top three buttons of his shirt were undone, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Y/N concluded that he looked insanely gorgeous. "Does your colleague happen to be Mrs Renoir? She told me she was coming to get the file." She smiled and nodded at him. "Yes, Mrs Renoir, that's her." Andy smiled back and took out a file from his drawer. "Here you go."

She accepted the file, stowing it away in her bag. "I'll see you!" She moved to get up but Andy tutted, checking his watch. "Why don't you stay, Y/N? It's getting late, we can go home together," he spoke, his eyes soft as he gazed at her. She froze for a moment. "Um, it's fine, I can—" He was shaking his head. "Y/N, if something happens to you, I'll not be able to forgive myself."

What's going on? "Mr Barber—" "Andy." "What do you mean?" He got up from his chair and moved to the couch that was in the room. She sat next to him. "You never stay out this late, Y/N, your parents told me you're usually at home by 8:30. It's almost midnight, and I can't let you venture into the city all alone at this hour. Do you know the dangers that lurk at night?"

Y/N's heart started thudding in her chest. Indeed, this was new to her; and before even meeting with him, she had been scared of roaming the city alone at night. "I don't," she muttered truthfully, looking up when Andy placed his hand on her thigh. "It's okay. You can stay, I just need to go over a few more things and then we can go home, hm?" Y/N grinned and nodded.

Andy lifted his hand off her thigh and went back to his desk. He began scribbling something on a paper, which Y/N realized was a form. After admiring him for a few minutes, she took out her phone and scrolled through her messages. She had already texted her mom about staying out late, and her mother had complained until Y/N told her she was out for business, not fun.

As time passed, Y/N's shoulders sagged. Her eyes drooped, heavy with sleep. "Andy," she whined in a sleepy stupor and his head shot up, "Are you done? I wanna go home!" His dark eyes softened instantly and he chuckled. She looked cute when she was sleepy. "Just a moment, darling, I'm almost finished." Y/N simply groaned and threw her head back against the couch.

"All done."

Y/N opened her eyes and saw Andy fixing his appearance, before shrugging on the coat. Then he turned to her, offering her his hand with a smile. She took it and heaved herself up, stumbling a little but Andy was there to hold her up. Effortlessly wrapping an arm around her waist, he guided her out of his office, switching off the lights and locking the door.

Both of them walked out of the building and Andy got Y/N seated in the passenger seat of his car. "I thought your car was at the auto repair shop?" Y/N remembered. She felt his chuckle next to her ear as he reached over and fastened her seatbelt and then his own. "Went to get it in the afternoon because I realized buses aren't for me." She giggled and leaned back against the seat.

"Why don't you try and fall asleep? I'll wake you up," he whispered, his heart swelling in his chest when she nodded meekly. "Goodnight, Mr Barber." He still corrected her, "Andy." Truth be told, Y/N didn't want to call him Andy because that would only make her feelings worse. If she called him Mr Barber… that was a constant reminder that he was a man much older, a successful lawyer, and just her neighbor.

Nothing else.

"Such a sweet doll." Ever since he heard her whining his name in his office, his mind had clouded over with lust. She sounded so fucking beautiful when she said his name. And suddenly, all he wanted to do was to claim her on his couch. He had controlled himself easily, he knew he had to wait till he had her consent. Which he thought he'd probably never get.

---

"Thank you so much, Andy!"

"Oh, it's not a problem at all, Mrs Y/L/N. Y/N is great company and I admit, the house does get a little lonely at times," Andy chuckled as Y/N's mother beamed at him. Y/N was looking down at her feet, clutching the handles of her travel bags. She was going to move in with Andy for a few weeks, since her room was getting renovated. There was no other place in the house.

When Andy heard that, he had instantly offered that she move in with him for the time-being. And Y/N's parents were, surprisingly, ecstatic at the idea. "She can move into the guest bedroom," he had spoken at the time. That's how she ended up here; now following Andy into his house as she yelled her goodbyes to her parents. "Welcome! It isn't much, I hope you like it still."

Y/N looked around in awe. The place was well-kept, the colour theme for almost everything was either beige or brown. It all looked very modern and cool. "Are you kidding? This is awesome!" He chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Let me show you to your room." Both of them walked up the stairs and stopped at the first door. Andy opened the door and another gasp left her lips.

"Wow," she whispered automatically and Andy smiled to himself. "I take it that you like it," he drawled, closing the door behind them as they walked into the room. Y/N kept her luggage on the bed and sat down, swinging her legs. "Thanks for all this, Mr Barber, it's appreciated." He scoffed. "Andy," he rectified, "And it was not a problem at all, Y/N, you're my friend."

A chill ran down her spine. His friend? He considered her to be a friend? "A friend, huh, I'm… I'm honored," she chuckled and he grinned. "I'll leave you be now, get comfortable." He waved at her and left the room, going downstairs to get a glass of water for himself. Y/N spent the rest of the day at her place, only returning at nighttime after dinner.

That's how it went for a week. She'd be at her job most days, would have dinner with her parents at night and then would finally walk into Andy's house to get some sleep. She liked the routine, and so did he. When she wasn't at her job, she'd spend the day in the living room of her own, or rather, her parents' house. Only, something changed a week later.

Andy was running late that day. As he drove home, at nearly 1:30 am, he was sure that he was going to be greeted by a quiet and empty house, Y/N already asleep in her room. She always fell asleep before 11:30, he didn't know how she did it. After parking his car in his garage, he walked into the sitting room only to see Y/N sitting in front of the television. She looked up and swtiched it off when he walked in.

"Mr Barber, hi." Her voice was hoarse. "Y/N? Darling, is everything okay?" he asked worriedly, sitting next to her. The dried tear stains on her cheeks made it clear that she had been crying. "I'm fine," she insisted, in vain. Andy gently cupped her cheeks, running his fingers over the stains. "You've been crying, honey, tell me what happened. I'll make it better," he whispered and Y/N melted against him.

"Um, can I… can I please… can I hug you?"

Without another word, Andy pulled her to him, her head resting on his chest as his arms wrapped around her middle. She snuggled into his side. "I just had a bad dream," she mumbled, burying her face in his chest. His arm rose and he delicately cradled her head, massaging her hair with his fingers. Y/N whimpered at the soothing sensation and Andy's heart raced.

"I'm here now, sweetheart, you have nothing to be worried about. I'll protect you, come what may," he uttered softly, almost in a daze. Something inside Y/N stirred deeply when he said those words. She pulled away slightly and he looked down at her, a questioning look on his face. Y/N blushed under his intense stare. "I, um… can I… kiss you?" Her question made Andy's heart beat faster.

Consent? Check.

Gently grabbing her jaw, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, pulling her into his lap. Y/N kissed back just as fervently, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?" Andy asked huskily upon pulling away. "How long?" Y/N squeaked. "Ever since I first saw you. You won my heart right there, Y/N, right at that dinner. The moment I saw you, I knew that you had ruined all women for me."

"Same. I mean, I— not women, obviously, I'm not attracted to other women— men, but—" Andy chuckled and kissed her again, cutting off her rambling. "God, I need to feel you, love, why don't we go upstairs?" It turned out to be a rhetorical question as he immediately stood up, easily carrying Y/N up the stairs. Y/N wrapped her legs around his torso.

He placed her down on his bed, in his bedroom and settled between her legs, hungrily kissing down her body. He used his tongue to stimulate her first, pulling orgasm after orgasm after her. She had never had these many orgasms in one night and that wasn't lost on Andy. "No one has ever made you feel this good, right, darling? Only I can do it this good." Y/N whined loudly when his tongue circled her bud.

"Bet those nasty boys your age have never made you feel this way. Worshipped. You're mine, Y/N, only mine. Say it." Y/N was too overwhelmed to respond, only a pathetic "yours" leaving her lips as she came again. For the… third? No, fourth time? She definitely lost count. "You're so fucking gorgeous," Andy moaned as he emerged from between her thighs, his jaw and chin covered in her juices.

He had eaten her out so well, like her a hungry man offered a meal after a long starvation. Like she was his last meal. Y/N blushed at the sight of him, covering her face with her hands. Andy easily shoved the hands aside, leaning in to kiss her. "All mine. Beautiful. Mine, only mine," he grunted possessively and Y/N gasped when she felt something poking her thigh. She looked down and saw him. He was giant.

"It's too big," she blurted out and Andy chuckled, giving her a soft kiss on the forehead. "You'll be okay." Grabbing the base of his shaft, he slowly pushed inside of her, giving her time to adjust to his size. Y/N winced at the burn on her hips but when he bottomed out inside her, all the pain was replaced by pleasure. "Fuck, so fucking tight," Andy helplessly groaned, leaning forward and resting his forehead against her shoulder.

"Please, please move." Andy complied, thrusting into her at a slow pace at first but when he was certain she was able to handle it, he sped up. Y/N moaned right into his ear as he nibbled on her neck, leaving behind dark, red marks. Now everyone will know she's taken. The moan fueled his libido and he sped up more, growling deep in his chest.

Y/N's eyes flew open at the animalistic sound and she gripped his shoulders, trying to steady herself as she moved like a rag doll against him and his powerful thrusts. "Scream my name, darling, tell everyone who's making you feel so good. Tell everyone you belong to me and me only. You're mine, all mine. I'm never letting you go," he snarled as he neared his release. "Andy," Y/N screamed shamelessly.

"That's it, doll. Months, for months I've tried to get you to say my name. Is that why you've been avoiding it? Can't help but imagine being under me and moaning my name every time you heard it?" he groaned brusquely and Y/N jerked, her orgasm hitting her unexpectedly. "Yes," she whimpered at his previous comment but Andy couldn't speak. Holy shit, she just squirted all over my bed.

His taut abdomen, his shaft, his thighs and his bed were all drenched. Y/N was lying on the bed, her eyes closed, convulsing as she reeled in from the first-time experience. "Shit, baby, do you see this? You just squirted all over me," Andy laughed breathlessly, leaning over to press his lips to hers. Y/N cocked an eye open as a blush spread across her cheeks.

"I what?! Oh my God, I'm so sorry—"

Andy entered her core with one swift motion, shutting her up. "That was fucking hot, doll, do it again," he urged and resumed his fast pace. Y/N cried out tiredly, her eyes landing on the clock in the corner of the room. It's been an hour?! How much energy does this man have? "Andy, I'm—" He was already close to his release and when she took his name, he was done. He pulled out of her and spilled his seed all over her chest and face, groaning loudly.

Then he spit on his fingers and brought them to her bud, furiously rubbing until she squirted again, right on his face. "Oh my God," Andy groaned, licking up and swallowing all her juices. "Andy, I'm tired…" She couldn't even lift a finger, that's how spent she was.

Andy was a sight. All wet, from top to bottom, covered in her juices, he looked like he had just stepped out of a swimming pool. "Okay, baby girl, get some sleep. I'll take care of you." And he did, he gently cleaned her up as she dozed off, and carried her to her room. He then hopped into the shower for a quick wash, dried himself up, put on some boxers and went to Y/N's room as well.

The bed in his room was… well, let's just say it was done for. He was going to be throwing the mattress out the next day, he knew that. When he walked into her room, his heart melted at the sight of her deep asleep, still naked, curled up on her side. He shut the door behind him and walked towards the bed, easily sliding in next to her. He pulled the covers on top of them and pulled Y/N into his arms, dropping a kiss to her shoulder.

"I love you, angel. So sweet, only mine."

---

A/N: This is the first time I've posted smut and a non-marvel fic 😳 I know it's probably not that good but thanks for reading anyway! Leave a like if you enjoyed!

#andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x female reader #andrew barber #andy barber smut #defending jacob #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans characters #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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touyasdoll · 3 years

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Dumb Luck

From anon: Hi, I've had a shitty few days with terrible luck and I hoping a request for you could make things better. Just a simple Shoto x reader story where the reader regards Shoto as her/their lucky charm, because he makes them feel less cursed and actually valuable. (I'm really venting here, but I hope this gets your inspiration flowing, it doesn't have to be very long.)

Word count: 2.3k

A/n: I’m so sorry that it took so long to get to, but I hope you enjoy and I hope things are going well for you, anon 🖤

———————————

“All right, class, we have a new student. I trust that you will all make her feel welcome.”

Your new home room teacher was addressing the entirety of Class 1A, but he kept his intimidating gaze squarely fixed on a shorter looking boy with purple balls atop his head, who was clearly squirming under Aizawa’s stare.

Making a mental note to avoid whoever that boy was, you scanned the room to peer out at the faces of your new classmates. They all looked nice, save for one blonde boy who’s face seemed to be permanently transfixed in a scowl.

Maybe you should avoid him too? And that’s when you saw the most handsome face you had ever laid eyes on for the very first time. His hair was two-toned, red and white. His eyes were also heterochromatic and one was framed with a large scar, but both seemed to gleam as he offered a gentle smile toward you.

“Go ahead and introduce yourself and then feel free to take your seat at the back of the class next to Todoroki."

That’s when you noticed the empty seat next to him. You cleared your throat, trying to fight off the blush that was creeping across your cheeks.

"Hi, my name is Y/n. I'm looking forward to getting to know you all."

You smiled as you took in some more of your new classmates faces, feeling reassured by the bright smile on the face of a green haired boy who just might have been an actual cinnamon roll in disguise.

"What's your quirk?"

Your attention was called to a girl with horns and pink skin, who also offered a reaffirming smile in your direction.

"Oh, uhm, I have a telekinesis quirk."

Tucking some hair behind your ear, you shifted on your feet as you were about to take a step toward your assigned seat when another male student with bright red hair called out.

"What? That's so manly! I mean--not that you're--that's not what i meant, you're really pretty actually I--," he scratched at the back of his neck, his face flushing the same shade as his crimson hair. "I mean can we see your quirk? If that's okay with you?"

Aizawa sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he took a seat at his desk, shaking his head at the awkward exchange that he would rather just not acknowledge.

You laughed it off and blushed in response to the red head's compliment.

"Uh, yeah, if that's okay?"

Looking over at your teacher, he exhaled and nodded, his stoic expression returning to his persistently tired features.

"Oh, and uh pick a number between 1 and 10,000"

Setting your bag down, you nodded toward the boy and watched him bare his sharp teeth as he momentarily paused to think and then nodded in response to your request.

"Okay, I got it."

Maintaining eye contact with him, you focused on his thoughts while activating your quirk to lift his backpack off of his seat, guiding it toward the front of the room with your hands, before returning it to it's rightful place.

"Whoa! That's so cool!"

He grinned in awe as he watched his backpack settle behind him once again.

"Y/n?" The green haired boy had his hand up, looking perplexed, but also so polite as he waited for your attention. "Why did you have him pick a number?"

You smiled as you physically picked up your bag, slinging it back over your shoulder.

"Oh, because there's kinda two parts to my quirk, but actually, could you pick a number? I don't know if I wanna repeat the one he picked."

You watched the red head blush as he shrunk back in his desk, before glancing back at Todoroki, who eyes were still intent on your frame.

"You can tell Todoroki for confirmation, so you know I'm not faking."

He perked up a bit at the sound of you saying his name, the corners of his lips turning up in a shy smile before he leaned over, so that the boy could whisper his number in his ear.

"Got it?"

You smiled at Todoroki, his small smile making your stomach do flips before you found the will to look away from him and back and the other boy.

After a moment of concentration, you announced your guess.

"4,389. Right?"

His green eyes went wide and an excited smile broke across his freckled cheeks.

"Whoa, are you psychic? Telekinesis AND telepathy? That's so awesome! Oh my gosh, can I ask you some questions after class, so I can write some not--

You nodded, blushing a bit at his enthusiasm. You've always enjoyed your quirk, but no one had ever reacted quite as energetically to it and the rest of the class seemed almost as amazed as him.

"Wait, what was Kirishima's number?"

The perpetually angry looking blonde boy's face twisted in curiosity as you moved to take your seat.

"It was uh, six thousand, nine hundred sixty-nine. Right?"

Your voice was barely above a whisper as your quickly scurried toward your desk, not missing the deep shade of red Kirishima had turned before the blonde boy smacked his arm with the back of his hand.

"Is there some significance to that number?"

Todoroki's gaze followed you as you took your seat beside him, ignoring the laughter that had erupted throughout the classroom, much to Aizawa's chagrin.

"Oh, uh, yeah it's uh--I don't quite know how to explain it though. Uhm," fidgeting in your seat, you slung your bag over your chair before turning somewhat sideways, angling yourself in your seat to face him, keeping your voice low. "Do you not know why the number 69 is significant?"

His expression seemed to only grow more puzzled as he cocked his head further to one side.

"No. I can understand why 6,969 would be significant, seeing as it's 69 repeated, but I don't see why that number i--"

A boy with yellow hair, striped in the front with a bit of black leaned over, interrupting Todoroki's query.

Suddenly, his eyes grew a bit wider and he nodded slightly, the faintest hint of a blush creeping up on his cheeks.

"Oh, I see. Okay. I can see why that would be funny.”

His smile was small and somewhat reserved, but it was adorable and the sight of it made you giggle.

"Yeah, that's why I didn't wanna go with his number. Didn't want anyone to think that I was a perv or playing a gross joke or something. I'm not trying to start off on the wrong foot here."

He cocked his head slightly to the side again, turning somewhat in his desk the way you had to better face you.

"Well, I think you have made a good first impression. I like you."

Your cheeks may as well have gone up in flames, you could tell they were beet red.

"Oh, uhm, thank you, Todoroki."

Clearing your throat again, you hoped the excess color would drain from your cheeks in the time you took to stare at the floor beneath your desk.

"You can call me Shoto."

His hand awkwardly extended toward you after a brief pause, flashing in front of the view you had of your feet beneath your desk.

You reached out and shook it carefully, feeling an icy coolness in your palms that you were grateful for as you felt your hands clam up.

"It's really nice to meet you, Shoto. You're uhm, you're so much nicer than anyone I ever interacted with at my last school, so uh, thank you for that."

His brow furrowed in confusion as you both retracted your hands.

"What do you mean? They weren't nice to you? Why?"

You shrugged shifting your weight to rest your elbow on the desk, accidentally knocking your unprotected cell phone straight off the desk, which mercifully landed on top of Shoto's bag, which had fallen to the floor, no doubt saving your phone from what would have been a thoroughly cracked screen.

"Oh--! Oh, wow, I thought that was going to end up broken for sure. That would have been my just my luck."

"Maybe your luck is changing. I hope your experience here at UA is different than it was at your previous school. I'll do my best to make your time here more positive."

His smile was somewhat sheepish, but genuine and for the first time in a long time, you felt comfortable around your peers. Maybe transferring schools was a good idea after all.

//Two Weeks Later//

"Dang it!" You huffed as your hurriedly threw your books into your backpack, scrambling to get up from the desk in the library.

Shoto calmly looked up at you in your frenzied state and stood, beginning to pack up his things as well.

"Where are we going?"

Throwing your bag over your shoulders, you nabbed the last of your books off the desk and made a move to start toward the door, but stopped when you realized Shoto was getting up to follow you.

"I completely lost track of time. I have to catch the last bus to go and pick something up downtown and I think I'm about to miss it."

He nodded and stepped toward you, following you out the library doors.

"Sometimes the buses run a little late. Maybe if you're lucky, it won't have come yet."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at his suggestion.

"Yeah, sure. Look, I will give you fair warning now; I'm one of the unluckiest people in the planet. The odds are super slim of even something small going wrong? My luck dictates that absolutely EVERYTHING will go wrong. At this point, I'm nearly convinced that a witch cursed me as a baby or something."

He shrugged, coming to a halt at the curb as a bus slowly began to pull up.

"I told you."

Your mouth gaped slightly as you shook your head.

"Okay, wow, well I'm glad you were right about the buses running late."

"I meant about what I said about your luck changing. I hope you've been having a better time here than at your last school. You deserve to, Y/n."

He stepped back and gestured for you to enter the bus ahead of him, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Oh, uhm, I--uh, I hope so."

You climbed up the steps and nearly tripped up the small flight of stairs, but his strong hands steadied your hips from behind before anyone could notice your falter, keeping you from making a fool out of yourself in front of a nearly packed bus.

"Thank you, Shoto."

You scurried toward the first set of open seats that you could find, letting your hair dangle in your face to try and conceal the heat on your face.

"Sorry, I, uh--," Shoto took a seat beside you, actively trying not to let his muscular thigh brush against yours, which was virtually impossible on a crowded bus, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with the way I touched you, I--I just didn't--didn't want you to fall or anything."

Feeling a bit more brave in sensing how nervous he was over the interaction, you relaxed and let the arm and leg that were already pressed up against him in the tight quarters press against him a little more intentionally.

"It's okay, I appreciate you not letting me make an absolute fool of myself. Seems like you're always around to help me in that regard."

Giggling, you began searching for the nerve to look up and make eye contact with him.

Hearing him mumble something, you decided to dig deep and look up at him with a curious smile.

"Hmm? Did you say something?"

His left side was giving off more heat than usual as you noticed he was blushing too, scratching the back of his neck nervously with his right hand.

"Dumb luck, I guess. That I'm always around when you need it. I'm glad I can be, I hope I can, uh, continue to be. If you, i-if you would let me be around you more often lik--"

He was rambling, clearly nervous, and it was an adorable sight to see. Further emboldened by his demeanor, you shifted your weight to lean against him, brushing the back of his hand with yours.

"Are you trying to ask me out, Shoto?"

His expression went blank as he nodded, save for the adorable flush on his cheeks.

"I am. Did I do it right? Or---wait, did you read my mind?"

You shook your head as your giggled, knitting your fingers together with his.

"No, I didn't need to."

He smiled, shifting his weight to lean against you as he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

"How did you know then?"

You shrugged playfully before resting your head against his shoulder.

"Dumb luck."

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sunnysviolin · 3 years

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Omotober Day Five- Photograph

“That's the thing about trust. It's like broken glass. You can put it back together, but the cracks are always visible--like scars that never fully heal.” ― Hope Collier,

Aubrey was almost out the door when her mother dropped the bombshell on her. Usually her mom wasn’t even awake when she was leaving for school, she was still sleeping off whatever bender she had gone on the night before. She was up today, in a stained robe with unkempt hair, but she was up.

“We’re going to visit Flora for dinner tonight. Go home on Basil’s bus, I don’t want you trying to skip out on this,” Past Aubrey would have been elated. Not only was her mom up, but they were going to see her best friend for dinner. Now she growled in irritation and rolled her eyes.

“Mom-”

“Aubrey, don’t even think about starting up,” Her mother cut her off with a warning look. Aubrey shut her mouth but hot anger lit up in her veins. She bit her tongue to stop from screaming as her mother continued her lecturing, “That woman is old and her time is coming soon. Respect thy elders, it’s the godly thing to do,”

The hypocrisy of it filled Aubrey’s mouth with poison, and she balled her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. Her mom loved to spout religious crap like this all the time, acting like saying scripture somehow equated to being a good person. Aubrey would have loved to ask her what part of her oh so precious book told her that getting drunk every night was godly, but if she started that fight again she would never make it to school on time.

“Whatever,” Aubrey muttered in lieu of her actual thoughts, pushing past her mother and out the front door. Her mother’s little lecture had taken long enough that the bus stop was completely empty, and that only made Aubrey’s mood even worse. She seized her scooter and whipped it around, putting all of her mental frustration into the physical act of riding to school and away from her house as fast as possible.

The ride did nothing to alleviate Aubrey’s anger and a dark storm cloud hung around her through every period. Students gave her a wide berth and teachers looked at her with distrustful eyes. They were all expecting something to happen, and she hated them for it. They always expected the worst of her. Kel had tried approaching her during their shared study hall, and she ignored him till he left. He wasn’t a true friend, he didn’t really care about her. Aubrey had to remember that, or she would fall for his tricks again.

By the end of the day, Aubrey was exhausted. To the rest of the world, she seemed just as bitter and angry as she was when she got to school, but it was just an easy front that she put out to keep them all away. Truthfully, she just wanted to go home, climb the stairs to her room, and curl up with her bunny (). She wanted to block out the world and all of the fake people in it, forget about false friends and the never ending loneliness that threatened to crush her at any point.

She couldn’t. She had to go to Basil’s.

She found Basil waiting outside, off in a corner. He was standing slightly hunched over, like he was trying to disappear right where he stood. Absolutely pathetic, but that was Basil. A weakling who had used Aubrey. Kel was with him, clearly talking at Basil and not to him. Basil wasn’t even paying attention, just staring off at the trees and playing with his fingers the way Aubrey hated. She walked over in long purposeful strides, putting herself in the middle between the two boys.

“Get lost,” Aubrey snapped, hoping that Kel would argue right back with her. It would be a good outlet, something that would get rid of the storm cloud. Basil was no fun to fight with, he just cried and apologized. At least Kel would do it properly.

But luck was not on her side. Kel didn’t fire back with a harsh retort or even give her a glare. He just sighed and rolled his eyes, something that instantly set alarm bells of resentment ringing in her head. She hated when he acted higher and mightier, rising above her like he was too good to fight with her. It was the same as her mother’s religious rambling, just another hypocrite who thought they were better than they were and judged Aubrey for not playing their game.

“I’ll see you later, Basil ,” Kel said, deliberately putting emphasis on ignoring that Aubrey even existed. The urge to kick out his legs and pound him into the dirt was overwhelming, but the sound of the buses starting to rumble cut off that train before it left the station. She growled and yanked Basil along with her by the wrist, walking over to his bus and climbing the high steps. Aubrey practically threw him into an open three seater and launched her bag in after, sitting as close to the aisle as she could and as far away from him as possible.

She didn’t want them, but as she sat on the bus with her former oldest friend, memories of all the times they had done this before came to her one by one. They had always chosen a two seater before, they hadn’t needed the room of three. They would cram close together and read the same book, or chat about all the things they could do when they got to his house. They had almost missed their stop multiple times because they were so lost in their conversation, and oftentimes they had to shout for the bus driver to hold on so they could get off. It was funny, sweet to the point of saccharine.

The thoughts made Aubrey sick now. She tried to pretend it was just the righteous fury she obviously should have felt at their betrayal, but there was something else in there. A thing with dark claws that dug into her chest and made itself known with pain. The word for it sat heavy in her mind, there but unspoken, pushed to some long forgotten corner that she never looked at and never wanted to. Aubrey had enough trouble grieving the dead, she had no need for grieving the living too. The bus reached their stop and she hopped off without looking back. Basil would follow or he wouldn’t, she didn’t care either way.

“Aubrey!” Flora tottered towards them down the sidewalk, her cane clutched firmly in her right hand. Her white hair was pulled up in her signature bun, and her dress was a pretty floral blue that matched her eyes.

She pulled Aubrey into a hug once the young girl was close enough, holding her in a tight squeeze. Aubrey put her hands around Flora, but she didn’t hug her back. Flora was fragile, her bones easily felt through paper dry skin. Aubrey hoped she never got old enough to feel this breakable, but the hug was still warm and comforting. Flora smelled like old lady soap and dried flowers and clean laundry, a smell that Aubrey loved for how safe it made her feel, and hated for how fleetingly often she got to experience it.

When Flora pulled back she kept her hands on Aubrey’s upper arms, looking the girl up and down. Aubrey resisted the urge to squirm, holding her breath as the old woman appraised her. She hadn’t seen Basil’s grandmother since the funeral almost two years ago, and she knew Flora hadn’t seen her shocking pink hair yet, or the new styles she liked to wear. Aubrey began to steel herself for a long winded speech about respecting her body like a temple, the kind her mom liked to preach after her second bottle of wine.

“You got taller,” Flora commented, turning around and leading the way back to the house, “Come inside, I made some snacks for you two,”

Aubrey slowly let out the breath she had been keeping, letting Basil walk in front of her and towards his house. Flora had never been a mean spirited woman or purposefully judgemental, but Aubrey’s threshold for trust was a lot lower than it used to be. Her anger began to bleed out and shame took its place. Aubrey usually thought the worst of people, and that didn’t bother her because she was usually proven right in the end, but there were exceptions. Flora had never done anything to earn her ire, even if her grandson had.

Aubrey followed them into their home, taking her shoes off at the entrance and looking around. Nothing had changed really, flowers and plants still hung in pots all around and the bookshelf was still packed to the brim. There was a pot bubbling on the stove and vegetables half cut on a board next to it. Flora gestured towards the table and slowly made her way to the fridge, pulling out a carton of strawberries and two oranges. She made quick work of the fruits and was soon putting a platter of cut up pieces of fruit between the two children.

“You two can finish your homework here while I finish up the grub. Dinner is going to be in an hour and a half. I know five o’clock is a little early for you youngins, but I like to be in bed by six!” The old woman laughed at her own nonexistent joke, the sound creaky and roughened with age. She had to stop to cough halfway through, but she waved away Basil’s worried gaze and reaching arms, “Please dear I’m fine. Aubrey you have to teach my grandbaby here how to relax more and just enjoy life,”

Aubrey didn’t respond, using digging through her backpack as an excuse to not have to acknowledge what Basil’s grandmother had said. It was less of a hassle to pretend that she hadn’t heard then to lie and act like she cared if Basil was uptight or not. Basil also didn’t say anything, he just started his work in silence. Flora’s genial mood faltered ever so slightly, but she took their dampened mood in stride.

“Okay then, while you two mope, I’ll keep working on dinner,”

Flora went over to the kitchen proper and turned on the radio, listening to some talk show that Aubrey’s mom also liked. The girl settled into her seat and began to flip through her work, picking and choosing which assignments she would do and which ones she would blow off. There was no point to doing some of them, the teacher was going to fail her anyway, so why should she try? At least if she put all her efforts into one or two classes with cool teachers, she might pass. It was almost dinner time when her peace was broken without her permission

“Did you understand the earth science homework?”

Aubrey looked up, shooting Basil a derisive look for even bothering to speak. He flinched away from her, but held firm, waiting for an answer. She didn’t even want to bother, but she knew Flora was nearby and probably listening, and she would have questions if Aubrey ignored her grandson, or worse, told him to shut up.

“It was easy,” Aubrey tersely replied, putting her anger into her pen. Her words started to come out jagged and uneven, but she didn’t care. It felt good, “It’s just identifying minerals,”

“I don’t get it,” Basil murmured, more to himself than to her. He scratched something out on his worksheet and fisted a hand in his hair, “She explained this over and over, I don’t understand why I don’t get it,”

Aubrey watched the display of his anxiety for a few moments before letting out an exaggerated sigh, letting her head flop back against the chair. It wasn’t even fun to watch him get upset, it just made her feel bad, which only made her angrier. She pushed her chair away from the table, enjoying the loud screech it gave and how uncomfortable it made Basil. Then she stood and walked around the table, leaning over him and getting in his space.

“Which one are you confused on?” She demanded, and he pointed to the question with a shaking finger. She looked at the problem and rolled her eyes. It wasn’t even one of the difficult ones. Their teacher had given them a table of potential minerals and then a series of questions with specific properties. They had to correctly pick which mineral went to which list of properties.

“Okay so you already got half of them, so you just have diamond, muscovite, talc, and gypsum left,” Aubrey stated, going over the options, “The mineral cleaves into thin sheets, has a white streak, and a pearly luster. Which out of those ones has those traits?”

Basil didn’t respond, still shaking from their proximity. He stammered out some unintelligible words, his hands clasping together around his middle. Before he could devolve into an entire anxiety attack, and more importantly before Flora noticed what was going on, Aubrey would have to deal with this

“Would you quit that? I’m not gonna bite,” She barked, and he flinched further away. Great. Aubrey forced herself to take a breath and count to ten, the thing that the annoying school counselor had showed her that almost never worked. Aubrey tried again.

“Okay instead of thinking about it that way. Let’s go with which ones don’t have those features. Does diamond have a streak?”

“No it’s harder than the streak plate,” Basil responded, which was what their teacher had said word for word. Aubrey had started off with a question she knew he would know the answer to, because Mrs. Tommen had made Basil repeat her when she thought he wasn’t paying attention earlier that day.

“So then obviously it can’t be diamond.” Aubrey said, unable to take all of the snottiness in her tone. It had to be good enough, besides he should know it was stupid that he needed help with this.

“The rest have a white streak though,” Basil said after a quick check of his notes, “It could be any of them,”

Aubrey briefly considered banging her head against the wall. Anything to get her away from rocks and this idiot. She walked around to her side of the table and went back to her own work, putting her head close to the paper.

“Look at the rest of the traits. They don’t all have the same traits. Just do it that way, and quit bugging me,” She hissed. Basil wilted, but he focused back on his work.

“Thanks for the help,” It came out quiet and timid, but it was there. Aubrey jerked her head in a nod, and the two of them lapsed back into silent solo work until Aubrey’s mother knocked on the door. She was dressed in a purple dress that had seen better days and came bearing store bought cookies that still had a sale sticker on them. Her hair was done, but flyaways surrounded her head like a dust cloud, and her smile was entirely fake.

Flora came over and greeted Aubrey’s mom with enthusiasm, thanking her for her generosity and guiding her to the table. They made small talk as Basil and Aubrey gathered their things and Basil set the table. How her mom’s job was going, how was Flora’s health, all the usual things Aubrey couldn’t care less about.

The conversation only got more boring when dinner started. When they had done this in the past, Basil and Aubrey easily entertained one another with jokes and teasing jabs and barely noticed the time passing. Now each minute was an hour and Aubrey had achieved levels of boredom previously never reached. Aubrey caught Basil’s eye and nodded towards the doorway to the bedrooms, hoping he caught her hint.

“Um G-Granny?” Basil stuttered, grabbing her attention, “May Aubrey and I be excused?”

Flora looked at both of their plates and nodded, patting Basil on the arm. They gathered up their plates and put them in the sink. As she was about to finally escape, Aubrey’s mother crooked a finger in her direction. She walked to her mom and was pulled down roughly by the arm. It was nothing like the gentle pats that Flora gave Basil, but a clear warning.

“Behave,” Her mother said in a harsh whisper, and Aubrey gritted her teeth.

She hated that word. She hated her mother. She hated this whole stupid dinner. Aubrey didn’t bother to answer as she pulled away from her mom. Her mom didn’t want an answer, she wanted a doll for a daughter. A pretty perfect doll that made small talk and smiled at jokes that weren’t funny and did whatever she asked. Aubrey stole away from the kitchen table, walking into Basil’s room and shutting the door. She didn’t like spending time with him anymore, and she certainly didn’t want to talk to him, but anything was better than being reminded just how much her own mother didn’t like her.

Basil’s room was also in a stasis, unchanged and unevolved from when she last saw it. The only difference was a blooming white orchid, the petals spread around the stem like angel wings. An orchid that was cared for meticulously, surrounded in the dying light of the day with a golden halo. An orchid that stopped Aubrey in her tracks when her eyes landed on it.

Aubrey had only seen orchids like this in one place. She had assumed that the Pastor did it, or some of the church ladies. She knew that the auxiliary had a circulating list of volunteers that went to tend to the graveyard. Aubrey had even considered that the strange man who always seemed to be in the cemetery might put them there next to her.

She knew Hero didn’t visit. He never went anywhere near the church, hadn’t in years. She didn’t know or care what Kel did, and Sunny didn’t even leave the house anymore. Aubrey had thought she was the only one that visited, the last person that even cared. For some reason her brain had completely blocked out the logical idea that Basil, who loved flowers more than anything, would be the one to carefully tend to a difficult to grow bloom.

“You put these by her?” Aubrey asked quietly, tracing a finger over the delicate petals. Neither of them needed Aubrey to say who “her” was, there was only one person left that connected them. Basil nodded, keeping his eyes down and away from his former friend. Aubrey continued to stare down at the flower, her mind racing faster than she could catch up.

“It’s a white egret,” Basil said, sitting on his bed near her and looking at the flower, “It means my thoughts will follow you into your dreams. I thought it was...I thought she might like it,”

She would have. Mari would have thought it was incredibly sweet, and she would have been able to tell Basil so. She wasn’t like Aubrey who spewed hate without a care in the world but who could never manage to say something kind without stuttering. She would have been able to bring them all together so effortlessly, there would have been no issue. None of this would have ever happened in the first place.

Aubrey was adrift, alone in a sea of confusion that sent wave after wave to try and drown her. She wanted to sit on the bed next to Basil, wanted to finally crack open and let everything out. She could trust him to listen, trust him to care. He was the only one besides her who still cared enough to visit. She should do that. That would be good. But she couldn’t get her feet to move.

“Aubrey?” Basil said, hesitant but still reaching out. She pulled away from the orchid, stumbling back and looking around. A thick leather bound book in the middle of his bookshelf caught her eye, and she wandered over to it. She knew this book.

“Aubrey, don’t.” Basil ordered, his words meaning nothing to her. She could hear him say it, she could even be mildly shocked that he even dared to talk to her like that, when he had been so timid before, but none of it really reached her. Aubrey pulled his photo album out from the shelf, holding it in her hands and opening it.

Instead of the soft faded colors of their childhood, there was black. There was black over Sunny’s birthday, black over her pink raincoat. She could barely make out Hero and Kel arm wrestling, and she only knew which pictures were from the beach based on the small bits of yellow that peaked through the marker staining the memory.

He had scribbled over Mari’s picture.

Aubrey had never had an out of body experience like this. She was always solid, always grounded. Even when she had heard what Mari did, there was no part of her that was able to check out of the situation. Now she was high in the sky, somewhere distant and far where she could only watch as her heart was broken all over again.

A rough tug jerked her back into her body. Basil had snatched the album back from her, his eyes wild and blown wide open. She couldn’t even respond, she had no idea what to do first- steal the album back, or kill him.

“Get out!” Basil shrieked, holding the book against his chest and falling to his knees. She didn’t want to. She wanted to hit him, to feel his bones breaking under her fists and hear him crying out in pain. She could hurt him worse than he hurt her, make it so she wasn’t the only one suffering. He did this. He was the one who did this, and she wouldn’t be to blame for that. She wanted to wring his neck, to break down and start sobbing.

She wanted to run.

Aubrey shouted in rage, beyond words and beyond any outward expression of the emotions roiling within. She bodily threw the door open, running past the table and out the door. She heard her mother and Flora calling for her, but she ignored them, slamming the door and continuing to sprint away. She got back to her house in record time, not bothering to close the front door as she climbed up the ladder to her room as quickly as possible.

Aubrey locked the trap door to her room, finally letting out the scream that had been building up within her. No one was there to hear it but her bunny, and she was currently hiding in her hut from Aubrey’s meltdown. Aubrey flung herself onto her bed and buried her face in her pillows, screaming again. She could hear her mother coming into the house now, screeching in rage at Aubrey’s dramatic exit, catapulting insults left and right about Aubrey. The girl wasn’t listening and didn’t care. Her mind was focused on one thing and one thing only. She would get that album back from Basil, whatever it took to do so, and she would never, never, trust him again.

#omotober #omori #omori fic #omori basil #omori kel #omori aubrey #I FORGOT TO POST YESTERDAY #I mean i did on ao3 but NOT HERE #ANYWAYS #so tired

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Text

Title: Lovebug (9/12)

Summary:

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Notes: Sorry for taking my sweet time posting this. We had no wifi for a while, transpo issue and I was dead asleep as soon as I got home two nights in a row lmfao.

Anyway, feedback is very much appreciated :D

Levi might have felt a little guilty about letting loose just that evening but his conservative mind was finding all the ways to justify it.

Maybe the justifications held some weight. After all, taking the midnight train out of the city wasn’t the strangest thing to do. Hange and Levi weren’t the only ones at the ticket gate then they weren’t the only ones waiting on the platform. On the train, Levi could count the number of empty seats more easily than the occupied ones.

He started to relax as soon as he settled on one of the seats. He convinced himself that in the end, he had been overreacting. There was nothing at all odd with rushing to her home then to his, packing two overnight bags and buying two last minute tickets to the northernmost station of their country.

To Pemberley. Levi didn’t have the time to load the book into his reader again. He instead downloaded the pdf file to his phone.

He had willed himself to make sense of the black on the bright white screen before deciding, it was too late at night to read. Instead he propped his elbows on the windowsill and leaned his chin on his hand. He snuck a glance at Hange who sat in front of him, leaning on the window in that same way.

A long day behind them, they were both exhausted. On the bright side, if Levi closed his eyes and let the train rock to whatever rhythm it was most comfortable with, he was sure that in a split second, they would have arrived at their destination.

Sleep could have lasted less than a second. Next thing Levi knew, he was fighting to open his eyes. The sun rose without warning, the only thing between them just an empty glass that did nothing to protect him from the first rays of morning.

Levi quickly adjusted his view, making sure he wasn’t directly staring at the sky like a while ago. He craned his head back, instead focusing on the rolling hills and the countryside.

It wasn’t the British countryside in the book. It didn’t seem at all like a Pemberley or a Rosings Park or Longbourn. Still, he delved into the passing green and foraged for whatever similarities his sleep muddled mind could come up with.

One thing Levi dared to note, despite his limited experience traveling, the view from an interregional highway, or an interregional train, the rolling hills that passed by, the clusters of trees that varied in density and the plains that dotted the view were all the same regardless of location. Despite the variety nature could offer, nature still had unifying characteristics. While at the same time, nature was distinct from everything non-nature.

And when it wasn’t unwillingly tamed, paved over, forced to coexist with concrete, buildings and humans, it was a sight to behold.

It was enough to take his breath away, enough to make him almost regretful that the train was moving too fast for him to stare for just a second longer at a changing landscape or canopies that blurred amongst one another.

Eventually, regret at not appreciating nature had him exhausted. He turned in front of him to see Hange’s eyes were fixed at whatever passing objects caught her eye outside the window. Her head bobbed, her eyes darted from left to right and her mouth was half open and she didn’t seem at all in a hurry to close them.

“I’m sure this isn’t your first time seeing this much nature,” Levi said, a humble start to light conversation.

Hange seemed comfortable going along with it. “It isn’t. We had the country club,” she said. There was a nonchalant look on her face as if she saw the ‘country club’ as more of a consolation.

Levi couldn’t help but agree. Golf courses were all green, the mini forests that lined the paths from the golf courses, to the beaches to the summer houses were all nature. Yet they were of a type of nature, trained not to bite any unsuspecting visitors.

When Levi leaned back on his chair, turning his head out of the window, he appreciated the raw green for a second longer. Then he concluded, there was novelty in seeing nature at its most candid form.

Hange spoke up. “You know, I haven’t been able to leave the city since we left the country club. And not traveling in months... This feels new.”

“But you’ve travelled before,” Levi responded.

“Of course I have,” Hange said. “Zeke would always take me out to the best gardens, the best parks, the best hiking trails… He knows I like nature.”

“So he took you to ‘Pemberley?’ Then to ‘Rosing Park then Longborn?” Most were likely fictional places but at that point, Hange may have had her own idea of what fictional was.

“No, not to my Pemberley,” Hange said, like it was the most unimportant thing in the world. “Never.”

“So this was supposed to be your first time going together?” Levi asked. He noted that they never did get to sit down and map the route to Hange’s dream destinations. Hell, he didn’t even know where they were.

He opened his phone, then the map of the northernmost region.

The capital of the northern region had city buses, a small subway system, nothing like what they had back home. Levi traced the blue and the green, pondering for himself which had the most rolling hills, the most ‘gardens.’ Obviously, over a very zoomed out map and a few hundred mile radius, it would be difficult to tell so he consulted Hange. “We could take an unlimited bus ticket… or a two day all you can ride train---”

“No. We rent a car,” Hange said.

“Wait, but if we don’t know the land--.” There were too many excuses he could have brought up. The excuse he was most hesitant to even fathom seemed most pressing then. Levi didn’t know how to drive.

Hange probably saw through it. “I’ll drive.” The cheeky grin on her face was enough of a hint, she was more than ready for adventure.

Levi closed the maps application and pocketed his phone. “So I’m assuming you’ll be doing the navigation.”

Hange only nodded, her smug smile getting wider by the second.

***

Hange surprisingly knew how to navigate the complexities of building an itinerary. What the hell she was doing, how the hell she was doing it and what the hell her plan was, Levi couldn’t be too sure.

Thirty minutes into arriving at the regional train station, they had rented a car and secured a pocket wifi. Thirty five minutes into it, Hange was pulling out of the station in a rented sedan.

The train station was situated in the middle of the city and in the car, Levi had to subdue the panic which came with going out of the city then seeing the scenery slowly shift from five story buildings to two story houses then finally to the peaceful green offered by the city outskirts. He wondered why they had even taken a train station to town if they were going back into countryside landscapes anyway.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Levi asked. Levi knew that Hange had been there once before. Just the idea that someone could actually easily navigate expressways and exits without a phone on the dock and a guide seemed almost unnerving.

“Ish,” Hange said, her eyes fixed straight ahead.

“We have wifi, we could use a maps application to navigate?” Levi never drove, he wouldn’t know but, it couldn’t hurt to be just a little more careful.

“Maybe later. I’ve been here more than enough times,” Hange said. They rode in silence for a minute or so more before she turned to him. “We’re gonna be on the road for a while and driving on the freeway gets boring.”

Levi glanced up at her questioningly.

Hange caught his eye “Tell me a story.”

“About what?”

“How was your date with Petra?” The question came out of nowhere and Hange had said it too casually and too abruptly and that had Levi choking on his own saliva.

He recovered quickly, clearing his throat. “Excuse me?”

“Your date with Petra? Didn’t you tell me you would be going on one?”

“I did,” Levi admitted. “Because you asked me to,” he added, a second later.

“I suggested it.” Hange clarified. “And how did it feel?”

“Good.” His response was automatic.

One hand on the steering wheel, Hange pulled her phone from her lap, unlocked it and turned on her modified emotions alarm. “Turn yours on.”

Levi only saw one reason why she’d do all that. “Why? You don’t trust me?”

“Well, you went through all the trouble of making the gift right? Let’s make use of it.”

Levi could have fought. He only needed five seconds to see reason in her order. Besides, if she turned hers on, it would turn out to be a fair trade. He turned on his phone scrolled through the home screens and opened the application.

“So how did it feel?” Hange asked. She set her phone on the stand and hovered one finger over the activate button.

“It felt good,” Levi willed himself to say it with the same conviction as a second ago, firm and straightforward but just a little shaky underneath.

Still too shaky to deceive his own application. A yellow spot just under the words ‘happy’ would have been nice. After all, ‘good’ was a word that generally implied that something was good, something made me happy. The alarm flashed with green and Levi had half the mind to fling his phone over the backseat of the car.

“Happy sad? Or sad happy?” Hange asked, there was a laugh in her voice.

Was she mocking me? It felt like a much better argument to quote her, mock her maybe. He glared at her. You told me love is a choice right? By some allusion, Levi attempted to put it all together. “I’m making the choice to say it was a good and productive date. We tried to pick out a good present for you.”

“And in the end, you decided to make an application,” Hange said. “Did Petra suggest anything?”

“Tea, a wallet, a pencil case…”

“I would have enjoyed those,” Hange said.

“It didn’t seem like that to me,” Levi admitted. He studied her features as he spoke.

Hange’s face was unchanging, her eyes still looking straight ahead. Levi was almost amazed she managed to keep some of her focus in conversation. Hange turned the car, swerving towards one exit.

Levi winced at the white that flashed in front of him for a split second. “How do you feel?” He asked.

“About what?”

“About the date?” He answered. Levi gave Hange a good once over, ending with her hand on the clutch. Her hand wasn’t shaking, but she held it like she was going to pull it out of its place any second now.

Hange paused. She had hovered her hand over the alarm but she never did activate it.

Levi subtly turned towards the phone then back at her. “Happy?” At that point, maybe a mischievous side of him had taken over. He wanted to provoke her.

Hange poked the active button on her phone, much harder than necessary, hard enough for Levi to wonder if it had reduced the phone’s lifespan by even just a year or so.

Her phone flashed once again with a purple dot.

Levi noticed her eyes widen for a second then a flash of pink flowered on her cheeks before she looked away. “Angry sad or sad angry?” He asked, deliberately mimicking Hange’s old tone of a while ago. It came out more of a growl than whatever naturally sing songy voice Hange managed everyday. Either way it had been a satisfying set of motions.

“Angry sad… Or maybe sad angry?” Hange murmured. Then she hummed for a second longer, the car slowed down with it and she turned back to him. “I feel...purple,” she said.

Purple isn’t a feeling. Levi glanced accusingly at her. Hange though wasn’t looking back at him. If she saw anything through her peripherals, she didn’t make it obvious.

With her own series of gestures, Hange had given one message. She didn’t want to be bothered.

Yet, she had asked him about Petra for a reason.

Levi couldn’t tell how much he saw was a trick of the light or a clear hint. Hange’s jaw had tightened, her eyes narrowed ahead. She didn’t talk much after the word ‘purple’ that softened to a whisper mid word.

For the first time, she wasn’t being completely transparent

Levi then felt less obligated to open up. “If you’re feeling purple, then I’m feeling green,” he said.

They didn’t talk for a while after that.

The car exited the main road to a road half its size. Although the car always rattled, it was particularly more obvious then and as Levi looked out the window and back at her, he realized that maybe it was because she was slowing down.

Slowing down, or maybe vacillating the best course of action.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine. Just trying to remember the way around here,” Hange said. She looked behind her, then forward again.

“What are we doing here?”

“I’m gonna use this birthday weekend of mine to take a trip down memory lane, reflect on stuff.”

“If that’s how you want to celebrate your birthday…” Levi checked his phone once more before pocketing it.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Hange said, her tone more serious. “Going on these types of treks, they really help. More than you probably think they do.”

Levi could at least try to understand it, if he just focused on how far apart the houses were, the notable manicured green of his surroundings and every single tree, flower, root and bush that just seemed to have a place. All acting prim and proper as if they were doing the gardens a favor.

There must be some appeal at least. “It’s quiet,” Levi noted as the car slowed to a stop to the side of the road.

“Most of the houses here aren’t occupied,” Hange answered. “Who actually wants to live in the middle of nowhere all year round.”

Levi turned around once, scanning his surroundings for a second longer. The houses were too far apart, he counted five just by doing a 360 but he knew if he squinted and took in the other shapes far past the downhill slope he could count more. “From the looks of the houses here, rich people,” Levi said.

“During the summer maybe or during the winter vacation. Every other time of the year most people will stay out in the city so they’re nearer to work,” Hange said. “Zeke owns this house.” She didn't have to point far, Hange only had to casually brush her thumb over to her side for Levi to follow her gaze.

Of course Zeke would own one. When Levi looked behind him again, then looked to the far left and the far right, he had to admit Zeke had one of the grandest ones, a wide two story mansion situated at the top of a hill.

“This is my Rosings Park,” Hange said. She walked towards the small pedestrian gate, pulled a key from her pocket and with a quick flick of movements--- as if she had done it so many times before--- she unlocked then pushed the metal gate open with a creak.

The view behind the black bars was only more beautiful. They climbed the hill and slowly but surely, Levi was getting a much better view of the house on top. He noted that the house gleamed with a type of beauty that could take one’s breath away. He had been a little self conscious though and he found himself willing his mouth shut, letting his breaths come out with a more rehearsed rhythm.

“Did you ever continue the book?” Hange asked, her eyes fixed ahead.

It was easy to tell which book she had been talking about. “Since you spoiled me? No,” he admitted.

“Then I don’t think you’ve read far enough into the book if you still think Elizabeth ended up with Mr. Wickham,” Hange said. “You probably won’t appreciate Rosings park then.”

“You still remember…” Levi could have sworn it had been months since he told her about the book.

“The book means a lot to me,” Hange said. Her words were a bit more careful that time, but she was starting to climb the hill, a little faster as if whatever scenes were running through her head then had injected in her, enough energy for adventure.

Levi brushed away a rush of guilt and he followed behind her. “Go spoil,” he said. I’m sorry about being angry. He didn’t say those last two words, awe, exhaustion or maybe a combination of both had him opting to stay quiet. Maybe he chose to reflect and as he followed behind, he started to wonder why he had been angry about her spoiling in the first place.

Hange seemed surprisingly eager to spoil him. The first words out of her mouth came out unimpeded. “Rosings Park is where Mr. Darcy first proposed to Elizabeth.”

First proposed. “So she rejected him?” Levi asked.

Hange turned back to him and nodded, a strange smile on her face. “And why do you think Elizabeth would reject Mr. Darcy?”

“He was an asshole right?”

“According to Elizabeth that is…” Hange looked at him expectantly but Levi for the life of him couldn’t tell what she wanted. She didn’t give him time to answer. She ran straight ahead towards the side of the house.

Levi was left with no choice but to follow. After all, the grounds were much larger than Levi had expected. From his view at the bottom of the hill, the house had seemed small, only composed of the front porch. As Hange went behind the house, disappearing in the corner, Levi started to suspect that the summer house was larger.

Consequently, Levi was occupying himself over the wealth of Zeke.

Again. The view didn’t do anything to help. The corner opened up to manicured gardens, clean cut hedges and flowers that could have been arranged by some invisible hand. Or maybe they were arranged artificially. It probably wasn’t beyond Zeke and his money to find ways to grow flowers so they were evenly spaced, further accentuating the fiery orange and bright red on the simple green.

Hange followed the stone path that lined the large house, slowly balancing on the pebbled line that cut between the cobbled stone path like it was a tightrope. She had the balance, maybe the eagerness to look straight ahead, and Levi couldn't really follow her gaze or be certain of where she was staring.

She didn’t look particularly entranced at anything as if she had seen it so many times before.

“This is one of Jaeger summer houses,” Hange said. She stopped by the fork of the path, one side circled the house, the other went straight into the garden. “He has others all over the country, others abroad. Too many to count and I don’t even think I’ve been to all of them.”

“Okay.” Levi had felt pressured to say something. As the awkward silence dragged on, Levi realized that might have not been the best thing to say.

What else was there to say though?

Wow the garden is so nice. It seemed like an appropriate thing to say but it didn’t feel like something he would have liked to admit to Hange.

Wow your husband is so rich. What else would that do but reiterate what Levi already knew?

Wow, I wish I was your husband. That last one felt like a mind fart. Something that had seemed natural to think but as Levi pondered it for a second longer, he realized just thinking that exact phrase seemed all the more inappropriate.

“Does it seem artificial?” Hange asked.

“Yes, it does.” That answer came out easier definitely, especially when it wasn’t a begrudging compliment. Especially when in the back of his mind, he could remind himself, those weren’t his words, those were Hange’s.

Hange continued to indulge him. “Gaudy?”

“Very tacky, incredibly tacky.” Maybe those words had seemed more for him than for anyone else. A hint of guilt settled at his chest but then he remembered, the Jaeger family had more than enough money. He could spare a few unkind words. He looked at Hange, trying his best, to keep his eyes away from the garden in front of him, before he started to doubt the reliability of his own words.

Despite the ‘gaudiness,’ Hange walked ahead, following the stony path and Levi followed behind. Beyond the shiny manicured hedges were benches, a gazebo and Hange sat one of the ones closest to the top, just before the steep incline fell. It was a good vantage point for a comprehensive view of the garden.

At the highest point, the green expanded in all directions. He could pick out how the sun kissed the lawn, the trees and how they shone with something seemingly unnatural. The more Levi stared, the more easily it became to pick out what gaudiness Hange had been talking about.

With his eyes looking out for the right glimmers, he soon figured for himself, they shone like plastic. It soon became apparent to Levi, there was something artificial and tacky about manicured lawns, well trimmed hedges and carefully positioned flowers. The guilt assuaged and Levi felt all the more confident to look back at Hange. “Why do you like it here then?”

“It’s still Rosings park to me,” Hange said matter-of-factly.

“And what’s so special about Mr. Darcy’s first proposal?”

“Read the book,” Hange said as if that were the easiest thing to do then.

The book was loaded into his phone. It was just a few clicks away, reading was an entirely different process and Levi found it tempting to overlook that order---or that friendly suggestion altogether.

“Just spoil me. You spoiled me already before,” Levi said.

“Mr. Darcy first proposed here.”

You said that already. “And? What’s so special about that?”

Hange didn't reply to him immediately. For a long few seconds, she stared at nothing in particular then turned to him, a defiant look on her face. “You know, you remind me of Mister Darcy.” A backhanded insult maybe, enough to have Levi looking away as blood rushed to his face.

Anger, it was definitely anger. “How do I remind you of Mister Darcy?” Levi challenged.

“Read---”

“Don’t.” Levi looked away.. “Tell me to read the book.”

“And there you are again.” Hange waved one hand at him, as if making a point.

A point Levi could only grip weakly. “You think I’m an asshole?” One realization dawned on him, maybe he had been pressing a little too much at her points.

“Not an asshole. A well intentioned man with a very abrasive manner of speaking.”

“Abrasive?” Levi asked. When he realized he put a little too much lip into the ‘br’ and too much throat into that last last syllable that Hange might have just been right, but only just. “What makes you think I’m abrasive?” He added, a second later, just making his manner of saying the word ‘abrasive,’ softer and tamer.

Hange looked pointedly at him. She stood up, right in front of the gazebo. And she stood there for a second longer, as if she expected him to follow.

It was awkward to sit alone on a bench, in a garden he wasn’t familiar with, especially when the partner of the owner was standing seemingly uncomfortable by the gazebo. He stood up and walked towards her.

“Was I at least tolerable?” Hange asked with a very distinct tone, a hint of a mock accent in her voice.

Tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me. For some reason, those words had stuck with him. “Why the hell are you citing the book?”

“Oh, so you noticed. I wanna play a bit,” Hange said.

“Play what?”

“Just play a bit with the man who reminds me so much of Mister Darcy,” Hange said. The insult still poked at Levi at his most irritable and he was tempted to walk away.

Hange put one hand out and the most natural movement was to look back. “What do you want?” Levi asked. Two parts of him were grappling for control, one with the intention to walk away and one tempted to take her hand. “Why are you putting your hand out?”

She’s married. She’s married. She’s married.

“May I have this dance?” Hange asked.

No, you cannot dance with a married person. People go to balls because they’re single. His conscience wasn’t screaming but it had grumbled it with utmost authority.

Holding hands was off limits. Holding hands with a married person in one of the summer houses of her billionaire husband was very much off limits. What the hell was Hange thinking? His head started to spin, there was a hitch of breath and Levi didn’t even think confusion could have sent a prickle in his eyes.

The hand quickly disappeared from in front of him. Levi looked up to see Hange had pulled that hand back and it fell to her side. Still, Hange was moving it, as if it was still very much fair game. “See, you’re a softie at heart,” she said.

“What are you trying to prove?” Levi asked.

“That you’re like Mr. Darcy?” Hange was getting more and more smug. “Mr. Darcy didn’t wanna dance either.”

“We’re not in a ball,” Levi said, blood rushing to his cheeks. Suddenly everything seemed like an insult. Darcy was an asshole yet a big softie. Two descriptions on two different ends of the spectrum. Levi started to reflect. Which description was more insulting?

Hange leaned back on the gazebo. ”Let me enjoy this, I met a guy who reminds me of mister Darcy. Then when we first met, I thought you hated me, if not hated me, I thought you just hated the world,” she said.

"How can you assume that from our first meeting?" Levi asked.

Hange sighed. "You sat too far away from me, you acted like my being there was an inconvenience and you weren't too happy to be answering all my questions."

"I was being professional."

"I have met sales people nicer than that."

Levi wasn’t a salesman. That much, he could admit. "And just because I was a little abrasive, you'll assume I hate you?"

"What can I say, that's my prejudice," Hange said. She didn't look like she would have bothered to hear much about his explanation.

"And what are you going to say now? My own abrasiveness is pride?" Levi challenged. Really, he was in no mood for a challenge then, a challenge he didn’t himself understand. He sighed and turned back to the bench. From the mischievous glint in Hange’s eyes, it was obvious there were way more things he still didn’t understand. “Give me time to finish the book,” he said.

He stretched his legs out, unlocked his phone and opened the ebook file.

He didn't remember the last words where he stopped but he did remember one particular passage that seemed a little bolder, the ink darker particularly on the bright white of his phone screen.

You could not make me happy, and I am convinced that I am the last woman in the world who could make you so.

Then comprehension came quickly after that. Levi scanned through the next page, until reaching a point where he knew there was new information.

Back to that asshole Darcy. At that point, Levi was in less of a mood to reflect. Hange had called him Darcy, he still considered that one character to be a total asshole and he found himself torn between denying and accepting his sad fate.

Hange continued to move, a flicker at his peripherals. He felt it clearly, she sat beside him again. He heard the click as she unlocked her phone. Then the all too familiar sound as the love alarm activated. Love alarm or Emotion alarm?

Levi cursed himself for reusing that damn sound. He glanced quickly, just to search for some flash in the color. He couldn't really tell the contents of her phone from his angle. And when he had gathered up the courage to look, Hange had already pocketed it.

“Peaceful isn’t it?” Hange started.

“How do you feel today?” Levi asked. He kept his voice disconnected, not looking at all at Hange.

“Happy,” she said.

Levi had turned on his own application almost surreptitiously, making the conscious effort to silence it just a second ago.

The alarm flashed before him again. A very familiar yellow, with the words happy on top.

“Good for you then,” Levi finally responded.

He made another conscious effort, a quick sanity check, just to make sure the smile wasn’t apparent in his tone.

The house wasn't empty.

As Levi soon found out as they made their way back out to the gate, there were housekeepers, gardeners. And they seemed fond of Hange, fond enough to even remember her birthday. Some had even been friendly enough to ask who the man with her was.

Friendly. Or suspicious. For a while longer, Levi was self conscious.

But there was nothing to hide. He and Hange after all had just gotten friendly over the months.

“This is Levi, he’s a developer helping me work on my PhD,” Hange explained it like it was just the truth.. “And I thought I’d show him around the estate. If you don’t mind…” And it was the stone cold truth and as she spoke, Levi couldn’t help but be fascinated at how feelings of sadness, guilt and relief mixed so easily together inside him.

The housekeeper shook her head. “No, we don’t mind at all. Do you two need lodging? We could prepare---”

Hange put her hands up in front of her. “No, that would be too much. We’re only here for the night and I think I wanna go further up north.”

“Just like last time?” Worry flashed across the housekeeper’s face for just a second. “You know it gets dangerous nearer to the mountains…”

“We’ll only be there for a while, just long enough to see it again. And we’ll be careful about it.” Hange looked like she was saying too much. But she always talked so it shouldn’t have been such an odd thing to think. Maybe because Hange spoke with a little more tension, her words came out of her much faster, sometimes stilted and Levi found himself staring, then avoided her gaze as he realized he couldn’t even control what he was feeling.

The quick exchange eventually ended and he was following Hange out of the house. Her strides were much harder to keep up with.

“Sorry about that,” Hange said. “I get nervous when I visit the Jaeger estate alone.”

“You’re married to Zeke, you have every right to be there.”

“I married Zeke, not his money. I don’t wanna play the partner that just suddenly enjoys all the richest and powers of my husband. That’s why I didn’t even take his name. I’m not a gold digger. I’m not a Jaeger, we just so happened to get married.” She got into the car and closed the door with a louder slam than usual.” I’d feel much better staying over if Zeke was with me.”

“You didn’t have to take me here either if you were uncomfortable.”

“I wanted to show you my Rosing Park,” Hange said. She placed her hand on the clutch and started the car. “And next, we go to ‘Pemberley.’ It’s a few hours away from here so buckle up.”

The car pulled out from the driveway and soon they were out on the road again.

A few minutes of silence later, Levi started to get a little restless. “This book really means a lot to you huh?” He asked.

Hange nodded then she was quiet for a while longer and Levi thought it proper to just let her navigate her way through. The car continued to whirr and if Levi looked closely, he even noticed his body was shaking with it. If he read for a while longer, he could end up with his head spinning and his eyes crossing. He increased the font size and willed himself to read again.

“You know,” Hange’s voice was ringing in the silence and it pulled him out of his semi concentrated state.

Levi looked up at her, and just behind her, he saw they arrived back in the free way.

Hange continued. “One thing about Pride and Prejudice, the author doesn’t spend too much time talking about how the landscapes look like. The appearance of the houses and gardens are up for interpretation.”

Levi recalled, Hange was a very inquisitive person. Enough to hyperfixate on landscape? He was doubting. “Then why did you imagine Zeke’s manor as Rosings?” He asked.

Hange shrugged. “If you read the book, you’d see, it was the home of Lady Catherine, an incredibly tacky place and if you remember the gardens behind the house, they’re very green but they seem…. Artificial? Rehearsed?” She gave a pained look.

“Then why do you care enough to look at them if you hate the gardens that much?”

Hange shook her head. “I don’t hate them but the novel, it made me reflect on a lot of things and sometimes, when I allow myself to look at the landscapes, I’m able to think about what happened in the book, and about love and---”

“So Mr. Darcy proposed to Elizabeth,” Levi interrupted. “Then what happened?”

“She turned him down,” Hange said.

“Why?”

“To put it simply, because she thought Darcy was an asshole.”

“It’s only natural that people wouldn’t want to marry an asshole right?” Levi asked. “Books should be teaching those types of things.”

Hange spared him a long glare. “Well, here’s the thing. Mr. Darcy isn’t an asshole. He’s misunderstood.”

“And what do romance novels do but romanticize every single ‘misunderstood’ man.”

Hange hummed and stared back again at the front. The car continued to move at a steady pace. A long pause followed. Then she spoke up again. “What if I told you Pride and Prejudice is not really a romance?”

“When it follows a couple and the development of a relationship, I think it counts.”

Hange patted the steering wheel. “Well sure, the novel tackles love and marriage but the approach is… cold, calculating. If you notice, they spend more time discussing money, properties, duty. It takes into account money, status, upbringing… so it seems more like a social commentary to me. ”

You could not make me happy, and I am convinced that I am the last woman in the world who could make you so.

“Then how did this book shape your idea of love?” Levi asked.

Hange put her finger to her chin. She had a far off look. “I like the idea of approaching love as something to calculate and to think about. Like Elizabeth and Darcy, they explored it, they thought long and hard about it..”

“Oh?” Levi asked, one eyebrow raised. “Is this where your ‘love is a choice’ schtick comes from?”

Hange bit her lip. “Not just that definitely. There’s a lot to learn about being hasty, about having to think long and deep about love and marriage. They didn’t fall in love at first, they were prideful. They had their prejudices but they made it work… And I thought to myself, maybe these are what love and marriage are? Maybe they're calculating like a science, maybe we should consider everything from reputation, money, family and convenience when we deal with something like love and marriage and it’s okay to approach life that way.”

For some reason, that tirade only made Levi heavier and heavier the more he continued. "The main character… she turned down Mr. Collins proposal and that was because she didn't love him right? Emotions play a part too," Levi said.

"I'm not denying it," Hange said. "But ask yourself, how much of a part are emotions supposed to play?"

That question, Levi couldn't answer. Somehow, that should have been something someone a little more experienced like Hange should have answered for him. Instead, she kept quiet, her eyes looking straight ahead, but she blinked a little faster the next few times as if she was struggling with something he couldn't see.

It could have been uncharacteristic. It was an odd set of emotions to play with but Levi was suddenly more and more compelled to break the silence himself. With nothing much else to say, he let his emotions speak for him. "If I were a little cold before, I didn't mean that."

"No offense taken," Hange grinned at him knowingly. "You seem tense." She was studying him for that glimmer of a second before she started to fiddle with her phone with her free hand. "I have the audiobook for Pride and Prejudice. You wanna listen?"

***

"They gradually ascended for half a mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of a valley, into which the road with some abruptness wound.

"This is supposed to be my Pemberley," Hange said. She had been hyping it up since a while ago that it seemed almost anticlimactic then. With the tone Hange was giving, he was sure she had been a little disappointed too. "Believe me, it looks nicer on good days," she added.

It had been a good day until a while ago. He could have sworn the sky had been blue for at least half the trip. Grey clouds were a strange things, part of the clouds were grey from afar but never looked too menacing until they was looming directly above them. Only when it was nearer did it have the tendency to just blanket everything in a very dull and unbearable grey.

Any color would look grey with the right level of dimness. He wondered for a while longer why Hange was still continuing the trek. The longer they walked, the farther they got from the car.

Levi’s worry, his nervousness only increased threefold, fourfold then he lost count. After all, they had stopped on what could have been the middle of nowhere. He couldn't tell where they were. Any inkling of sense laid out in front of them was in the form of a dirt road, just stretched out from the freeway with no buildings for miles, no pit stops.

And if it actually started to rain? Levi imagined it for a second before shaking his head. He tried to focus on other things like the ease of walking, his manageable energy levels.

The meagre late lunch of a drive-through burger meal was more than enough for a quick hike. Levi found himself pondering whether energy should have even been expended for something so grey.

The color grey just didn't seem worth the hike to see. "Why are we here?" Levi asked.

"Let's just stay long enough to climb the hill." Hange seemed persistent. Her back was on him and he couldn't tell the face she was making then. “It might look better on the other side.”

They were near enough at least that Levi had to crane his neck to see the top and he consoled himself. Maybe it was worth the hike. Maybe Hange was more privy to weather patterns and she at least calculated the quick hike and the awe that it would be worth.

Then Levi reminded himself, it was her birthday. Whether it did leave him as in awe as she was was irrelevant. That was a consolation Hange afforded herself. He was merely a companion. There should be things to get out of the conversation at least. “Tell me about your Pemberley,” Levi said.

“You’re gonna continue reading right? Do you really want to know?” Hange asked, seeming suddenly careful with her words.

After spoiling me the rest of the way? Levi would have wanted to ask.

“You seemed invested,” Hange said. It was a sufficient answer to his silent question. “I’d rather you read it on your own. Especially the part about Pemberley and the scene in Rosing’s.”

“Why? After spoiling me this much?” His abrasiveness, the irritation had made his legs lighten under him and he moved a little faster catching up to Hange.

Hange seemed concentrated, looking ahead, not hesitating even as the incline presented itself right in front of them. It was getting steeper and Levi felt it as an ache in his legs as he climbed but Hange, admirably or begrudgingly, seemed unfazed

Levi was a few inches shorter and maybe he was at a disadvantage. He didn’t have the same investment either but he stepped forward, going at the steeper incline with wider strides while maintaining speed. He looked to Hange who was right next to him. She continued to look ahead, she craned her head back, her hastily tied hair fell behind her and she was whispering something.

If Hange hadn’t seemed hypnotized yet disturbed, if the fat cold droplets didn’t settle on his arms, getting stronger and more numerous by the second, maybe he would have let her climb and climb. He would have obediently followed behind.

It had been everything at once. Maybe confusion at everything had been that one final nail on the coffin. Irritation welled quickly, then anger. Hange hadn’t been speaking in any straightforward manner for a while already so he forced it out of her.

“Why the hell does Pemberley mean so much to you?” Levi raised his voice. Just in case that hadn’t been enough, hell, that had actually been enough, he pulled her from behind.

The rain accumulated on the dirt road quickly and when Hange turned to answer, she fell backward rapidly. Right on top of him.

It was a quick and terrifying sequence or movements, Levi found himself sandwiched, Hange in front of him, his behind buried in mud and dirt, blades of grass were brushing heavily past him. But he didn't stop.

They didn't stop. Gravity had them moving down, naturally quickly and violently down the steep incline and Levi could only be thankful that the grass had been kind, absent of anything that could have snagged at any part them.

A few long seconds later, by some miracle, they were unharmed, still very much alive.

It didn’t change the fact that at the bottom, they were both fucking dirty. And he was a little--- scratch that--- very rattled. And Hange was on top of him, her hair clung close to her, her glasses had fallen to her mouth and she seemed just a little disconcerted.

Hange pushed herself up. “I’m sorry, are you okay?” She put one hand on his cheek, one filthy hand.

Instinctively, Levi pushed it away. She was disgusting. They were both disgusting. He could taste a hint of dirt at his lips and he closed his nose and shut his mouth before he could taste anymore.

It was disgusting. And in that state, he was recalling how pleasant almost drowning seemed when he was covered in mud, the rain only continued to pour. He would rather have been drinking salt water then.

When he noticed that a minute passed under the rain, he started to observe then search for signs on how Hange might have been feeling. They had left their phones in the car. He was thankful they weren’t casualties but he was a little regretful that he couldn’t read her then.

Purple. He made a guess. That was the only reading she had given then. Sad angry? Or angry sad?

But when he looked for sadness, angriness, he saw it in those wide eyes in the red just under her eyes. Or he could have been projecting. It could have also been a placebo affect.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. I got so fucking worked up over this. Let's go back." Hange's voice was stilted, alarmingly cold.

"You've done this before right?"

The rain wasn't stopping anytime soon. In fact, it came down hard and Levi could have felt like he was drowning again.

The storm had proven to be a worse adversary. The wind was almost as menacing as waves.

He struggled to his feet. Hange had held out her hand, wrapped one arm around his shoulder and standing up became a small feat.

"Hey, are you okay?" Hange asked again, her voice a whisper that brushed at his neck. She was close enough to even overwhelm the pouring rain just outside their small bubble.

He hadn't answered her earlier. He didn't even know how she had been able to get the message to him in spite of the wind blowing at their face, the thunder and the patter of the rain on the dirt road.

When they were close enough, shoulders and arms touching, her lips almost brushing against his ear. He thought it close enough that she would probably hear if he whispered. Maybe it was worth just opening his mouth to speak. Two words or maybe four. Just long enough so she won’t have to speak again the whole trek back to the car.

“Let’s just go back.”

***

Adrenaline, exhaustion and the shaken state eventually gave way to irritation once again.

It was a slow process but Hange was silent. She had been driving much slower and with the peace, the slow rhythm of the whirring of the car, Levi had time and space to contemplate.

Levi was contemplating the expenses of cleaning a rented car. When the mud started to dry and harden, when they caked at his skin, they only aggravated the at first, silent irritation. It was silent but it was irritating altogether. He angrily wiped his hands on the dashboard of the car, and reached for his phone next to the clutch.

“Levi, I can pay for cleaning up the car," Hange said.

Levi kept quiet. For one, he didn’t want to entertain the idea of making her pay for all of it. A part of him though, the stingy part, would have rather she did.

“Levi, are you angry at me?” Hange asked a minute later.

And that phrase always had that magic of making most people angrier than they were already. Levi was no exception.

Still, he did try to be just a little nicer. “You’re driving aimlessly on the road. We’re a mess in the car. We’re both covered in mud, my legs and my arms hurt. Hange, think.”

“Think?”

“Who wouldn’t be at least a little angry?” His tone betrayed his words. Hange had been responding in questions since a while ago and it only served to further aggravate it.

“I told you, I’m sorry.” She did say 'sorry' a while ago but he wasn't in the mood to accept it then. So it slipped his mind.

“Well, finally you’re being more direct but you know, it would have been helpful if you’ve been more open since a while ago.”

“More open about what?”

Levi smacked his hand on the dashboard. “There you are again, you ask questions but you never fucking answer. And if you answer you’re fucking vague, or you fucking digress.”

“Any... question you wanna ask?” Hange asked hesitantly.

“Why does Pemberley mean so much to you? Why does this damn book mean so much to you? You’re a scientist, a researcher. Why are you getting so worked up over a fucking social commentary?”

Hange gave him a wounded look, and she stared for a long time. Levi only noticed then, that that had been the longest stare she had been giving him in a while. The fiasco of a while ago was enough of an evidence that Hange did get worked up over it and Levi held it like a memento, just in case Hange decided to play oblivious.

She didn’t. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I got emotional.” But she still wasn’t answering questions.

“Why does Pemberley mean so much to you?” Levi asked again. He kept this voice hard, stone cold and firm. He enunciated every syllable and every word like they were separate from one another.

Hange avoided his gaze. “Well, I really like the relationship between Elizabeth and Darcy---”

“Why do you like it so much?”

“It’s because I would have wanted the same for myself---”

“Would have?” And Levi caught it, two words that had hovered in the air for a second.

Hange clamped her mouth shut.

“Would have?” Levi repeated again in the silence. And the irritation, the discomfort and the fury from being caked from head to toe with semi dried mud had somehow been released with two words.

“I have the same for myself,” Hange clarified.

“Would?”

“It’s a slip of the tongue,” Hange said. She didn’t look back and it didn’t look like she would be prodding that topic anymore.

So Levi brought up another question. “What about Elizabeth and Darcy’s relationship do you like?”

“It’s... “ Hange was hesitating. “It’s in the small details…” She seemed more concentrated on the road ahead of her.

“Go on.” Levi gripped on the seat cushion underneath him. Somehow, the car was starting to move in time to the patter of the rain.

“You might even think I’m crazy for looking at them…” Hange continued.

“But…” Levi turned to Hange, he looked closely as her lips parted as if she was about to say something.

Then her voice filled the cramped space inside the car for only a split second, before the squeak of tires, the spray of water and the burst of sensations that came with the dizzying experience of his body lurching forward in his seat.

For a second, Levi could have sworn he was dead.

***

They weren’t the only ones who decided to call it a day. It turned out there were numerous people who had been wandering around that side of the country and it looked like that particular motel had been the only one for miles around.

The first warning should have been the fact that it had taken Levi and Hange minutes to navigate a pretty small parking lot, just to find a place to fit the car. The second warning should have been the amount of lit up windows.

At that point, they were both exhausted and Levi had focused too clearly on the ‘open’ sign.

Open 24 hours.

So he didn’t waste any time. Hange didn’t either. It was cold, it was raining and Levi could forget that it was too early in September for him to have been shivering, for white fog to be accompanying his shuddering breath.

It was his first time up north, autumn came much earlier. That didn’t stop him from grumbling silently about why autumn rains had to be so cruel.

It was barely even autumn. Shitting on the weather proved to be an adequate consolation for their very uncomfortable state.

Hange seemed unsure and maybe she had heard his grumbles, maybe she had assumed it was about her. “I’ll check if they have any rooms,” Hange said, an apologetic smile on her face. She looked down towards his elbow. “And I’ll ask for a first aid kit, so we could do something about that.”

His body had been a conglomeration of discomforts since a while ago and the bleeding scrape on his elbow had been a terrible surprise. Not so terrible actually as he looked closer, he barely even felt it.

Before he could stop her, Hange had went ahead to the reception, covered in mud and all. Levi was grateful at least that they both had cleaned their shoes on the way in. The headache would be left to whoever would be cleaning their car.

The man at the counter was apologetic, a little too nice and he spoke to Hange like he was talking to some higher figure. It was a simple back and forth.

They were guests, he worked in hospitality. It was a natural exchange.

Maybe Levi had just been a little perceptive because everyone seemed to approach Hange with some unique form of respect. After a brief back and forth, Hange turned back to Levi, a flash of uncertainty on her face.

Just a flash. Before Levi could perceive more, it disappeared.

Levi still saw that as a cue to follow behind. “What?”

“So there is only one room left, towards the back...” Hange started.

“Apologies about this…” The receptionist bowed his head. “The roads get slippery… And it’s dangerous to go out so many people….” He was babbling at that point and all Levi wanted him to do was get to the point.

Hange let out a sigh then dropped her credit card on the table. “We’ll take it.”

“You managed to get a room, why is he apologizing?” Levi asked, turning to the comparably more coherent Hange Zoe.

“Well, there’s only one room left,” Hange responded.

“And?”

“There’s only one bed.” Hange had said that part with a straight face. She huffed and put one muddy finger up in front of him. “But you know, I really think we can make this work...”

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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kinglazrus · 4 years

Text

Smells Like Team Spirit

Phic phight 2020

Submitted by @phantomphangphucker: Danny Fenton seeming creepy, unnatural, predatory, etcetera to the general population of Amity Park. Or only seeming creepy, unnatural, predatory, etcetera to tourists, while Amity Park locals are confused by anyone finding Fenton ‘creepy/intimidating’.

Summary: Some mascots are great at pumping up a crowd. As Casper High's mascot, Danny has only one job: strike fear into the hearts of their opponents. This is the story of how Danny becomes the famed Mascot of Fear.

Word count: 9268

Tucker witnesses it first. His cousin from another state is visiting for the weekend and Danny comes over to hang out. Ozzy has met Danny before, a few times, so Tucker thinks they won't mind if Danny joins them for a little while. He arrives while Ozzy is in the bathroom, and Tucker gets a three-player game of the new Doomed: IV console game set up.

Danny lounges on a beanbag chair, leaving the couch to the Foley cousins. Clutching his controller, he plays with the controls, watching his character jump, roll, punch, and shoot, trying to get a feel for the different set up.

"I think they took out the high jump," Danny says. He spams the jump button while tapping various others across the controller, testing different combos.

"What?" Tucker lunges for the game case, taking out the pamphlet tucked inside the cover. He flips through, looking for the controls.

"Yeah, it doesn't seem to—oh damn that's fun."

"What? What?" Tucker scrambles up, throwing the pamphlet aside, and watches Danny's avatar leap into the air, then sprint forward.

"Air-dashing," Danny says with a grin.

"Sweet." The boys bump fists.

Danny, kneeling on his beanbag, keeps air-dashing across the screen, whipping the controller back and forth emphatically. The action does nothing to improve the gameplay, but at the same time, it just wouldn't be as enjoyable without it. Tucker lays upside down on the couch, hands braced on the floor, cheering Danny on. "Go, go, go!"

It's stupid and fun. They haven't even started playing the game yet, but this is the most they'll enjoy themselves all afternoon. And that's the scene Ozzy walks in on.

They remember Tucker's best friend, although they hadn't seen him since coming out. Ozzy's not sure what to expect from him, but it certainly isn't this. And by this they don't mean the raw enthusiasm for a simple game mechanic. They mean the shiver that crawls up their spine the second they lay eyes on Danny. They feel cold, like they've stepped in a bath of ice-water rather than their cousin's living room.

Danny turns his head toward Tucker and sees Ozzy standing in the doorway. Both of them freeze. Ozzy's heart beats fast and heavy in their chest. Their pupils dilate, stretching wide, and sweat beads on their forehead. They can't look away. If they do, then they're dead. If they let Danny out of their sight, they're dead.

Danny gaze slides away, back to the TV, and Ozzy can breathe again.

"Ozzy's here," Danny says.

"Oh!" Tucker's head swivels toward them. He hadn't noticed Ozzy and Danny's little staring contest. It had only lasted a second, but to Ozzy, it felt like an hour.

"Check it out!" Tucker says. He kicks off the back of the couch, flipping forward. His knees hit the carpet hard, making a loud thud, which earns him a shout from the dining room.

"Don't bother the neighbours!" Tucker's mom, Angela, says.

"Okay, Mom!" Tucker calls back, without much conviction in his voice. He beckons Ozzy forward and points to the TV. "They replaced the double jump with air-dashing! Which seems stupid at first, 'cause jumping forward isn't the same as jumping higher. But it looks like if you air-dash into something, you can climb up it!"

Tucker talks fast, making lots of vague gestures with his hands, not really looking at Ozzy. He grabs his own controller off the couch and swivels toward his cousin. "Here's how you do it."

Tucker looks up at Ozzy and pauses. "Hey," he says, tilting his head. "You okay?"

Ozzy is not okay, but they can't really explain it. Danny glances there way again, just for a second, and a shudder passes through them. Something about Danny is off, but Ozzy can't really explain it. He looks the exact same as he did the last time Ozzy saw him, even wearing the same damn t-shirt. But when Ozzy looks at him, and Danny looks back, their brain starts screaming not right, not right, NOT RIGHT!

"I'm, uh, I'm good, yeah," Ozzy says. They shuffle into the room, casting nervous glances Danny's way, and sit down on the couch, taking the farthest spot from Danny. Ozzy leans up against the armrest, taking the controller Tucker passes them, and looks forward. They think that, maybe, if they look ahead instead, if they just don't look at Danny, they won't feel so weird, and whatever this is will pass.

But oh, god, this is so much worse, because now they can't see Danny, and that makes their heart pound. An image of Danny suddenly lunging from his seat bursts into their mind and Ozzy stiffens. Hands tightening around the controller, they glance out of the corner of their eye.

Danny hasn't moved. Danny isn't even looking at them. It doesn't make them feel better.

"Seriously, are you good?" Tucker asks. He sits down to Ozzy's left, blocking their view of Danny.

"Let's just play," Ozzy says.

Tucker shrugs and starts the game. As they play, he keeps looking over at Ozzy, wondering why they're acting so strange. They were just fine half an hour ago, but now they're stiff, and kind of pale, and they keep looking away from the screen, even when they're in the middle of a fight. Ozzy's always been better than Tucker at Doomed, but today they're at the bottom of the scoreboard.

Tucker racks his brain, trying to come up with a reason for the strange behaviour. A bad phone call, maybe? Ozzy's mom has been in and out of the hospital for a while. He hopes it's not that. He wants to ask them what's wrong, but he doesn't want to push it. And they might not be comfortable talking about it with Danny there, either. So, Tucker decides to wait until they're alone.

His chance comes sooner than expected, when Danny says he has to go.

"Aw, really?" Tucker asks. He droops, shoulders slumping. "You've only been here an hour."

"Yeah." Danny nods. "I just remembered that physics assignment. I haven't finished yet."

"I thought you finished that?"

"Uh, so did I. But Jazz just texted me. She found the sheet and apparently, I left a few questions blank. I should go home and finish before she really gets on my case." Danny stands up and stretches his arms above his head. "Sorry. We can make up for it next time."

Before Tucker can protest further, Danny leaves, casting one last furtive glance in Ozzy's direction. Ozzy doesn't relax until they hear the front door close.

"What did he even check his phone?" Tucker mutters. Thinking back, he can't even remember Danny looking down at his pocket. It bothers him, but he knows Danny wouldn't lie without a good reason, so he'll leave it for now.

He pounces on Ozzy instead

"What's wrong?" Tucker asks.

"Nothing's wrong."

"You're a worse liar than Danny. Is it... is it your mom?"

"What? No." Ozzy shakes their head. "Mom's fine. She's doing really good, actually."

"But there is something wrong," Tucker presses.

Ozzy groans. They reach up to run their fingers through their hair, faltering when they touch their shoulder instead. Moving their hand up, they touched their buzzed head. "I don't know. Danny, he–" Ozzy cuts themself off.

"Danny? What'd he do? Did he say something while I wasn't looking? I'll kick his ass," Tucker says, leaping to his feet.

"No, don't!" Ozzy grabs Tucker's belt and yanks him back down. "It's nothing, okay? He didn’t do anything. It's stupid."

Tucker stares intently at them, then sighs and backs off. "Okay. It's okay if you don't want to tell me, you don't have to. But if you do want to talk about whatever it is, I'm right here."

"Yeah, okay," Ozzy says.

—

Valerie sees it next. She invites Danny over for a study session at her new place in Elmerton. People say Elmerton is a neighbourhood at the edge of Amity Park, but as someone who now lives there, Valerie knows it's its own town. The people in Elmerton aren't like the people Amity. They don't have the same mannerisms. They don't have the same slang. They don't even have the same ghosts.

In fact, Elmerton has no ghosts. Which makes it a pretty poor place for a ghost hunter to live, but the apartments are cheap, and it's all her dad can afford right now.

They take the bus after school. It's an inter-city bus, because none of the school buses go out that far. The ride is more than hour. Plenty of people get on and off the bus in that time. Valerie likes to watch them. She can tell exactly when the last person from Amity Park steps off.

Valerie doesn't know how she could explain it to an outsider, but people from Amity can recognize each other at a moment's glance. It's something about the way they hold themselves, how they react to things. When your life gets threatened every day by ghosts from another realm, you look at things a little differently. It's like one day everyone from Amity Park collectively decided to stop giving a damn about anything that didn't immediately threaten to kill them.

"Huh," Valerie says as she looks over the bus. She and Danny sit at the very back, in Valerie's usual seat. After her first few times taking the bus, she learned it was just polite to sit further back when you had a longer ride. It also gives her a good view of the whole bus.

"What is it?" Danny asks, looking away from the window. So far, he has been spending most of the ride staring out at the passing scenery, watching as things got dirtier and poor run down the closer they got to Elmerton.

Instead of answering, Valerie leans over Danny.

"Hey!" He presses himself back against his seat, raising his arms, a scarlet blush creeping across his cheeks.

Valerie ignores him in favour of scanning the skies. "You don't see any ghosts or anything, do you?"

"What? No. Why? Why would there be a ghost here? I mean, it's Elmerton, right?" Danny says. He laughs and looks away, tugging the collar of his shirt. Is it just him or is it a little hot in here all of a sudden?

"Yeah, I guess so," Valerie says, pulling back. Her frown stays settled on her face.

There are only a few people on the bus with them, besides the driver. At the very front, a woman with weathered skin and greying hair, who got on at the last stop. Even though the bus is already moving again, she still hasn't taken her seat. Instead, she stands straight, facing the back of the bus.

By the middle doors is a young woman and teenage girl, their backs to Valerie and Danny. The woman has her arm around the girl's shoulder. Every once in a while, she cranes her neck and looks in their direction.

A man in a rumpled suit sits closest to them. Valerie sees him on the bus every day. They've chatted a few times, and he's nice enough. They usually say hi to each other. Today, he had started down the aisle toward them, giving a cheery wave. But the moment his gaze slipped from Valerie to Danny, he paled, dropping into the nearest seat. He clutches his briefcase tightly, holding it like a shield.

Valerie knows instantly that none of these people are from Amity Park because they all look afraid and she has no idea why. She stares at them a moment longer, glaring at the young woman when she peeks over her shoulder again.

It takes Valerie a minute to realize it, but she finally notices the one thing all of them are doing.

"Are they... staring at you?" Valerie whispers to Danny.

He shifts uncomfortably, tucking his hands under his arms, and leans his head against hers to whisper back. "Yeah."

"Why?"

Danny shrugs. "It's just a thing people do sometimes."

"People sometimes stare at you like you're about to, I don't know, pounce on them?"

Danny shrugs again.

"That's... really weird."

"Maybe they've heard of my parents," he says, grinning sardonically.

Valerie rolls her eyes and pushes his shoulder. He laughs, and Valerie does her best to ignore the tense atmosphere for the rest of the ride. She ignores it, but she doesn't forget it.

—

Valerie finds Tucker in the gym sound booth after school one day and corners him there. She locks the door behind her and pins him against the sound board. "What's up with Danny?" she asks accusingly.

Both Tucker and Sam have the annoying habit of dancing around Valerie's words whenever she tries to approach them cautiously. She's learned, from experience, that being direct and forceful is the only way to get information out of them. Getting Tucker alone with no back up also helps.

"I don't know! He's not a ghost!" Tucker blurts out, raising his arms defensively.

"What?"

"I mean, nothing. Nothing's up with Danny. He's so great. You know how great he is. You dated him for a little bit, luck you."

Valerie stares at him, wondering for a moment if this is Tucker's way of confessing that he has a crush on his best friend. She shakes her head, casting that thought aside for now. Grabbing Tucker's collar, she pulls him forward until they're nose to nose.

"You mean you've never seen how odd people get around him?"

"What, no?" Tucker's genuinely confused by the question. His face screws up as he thinks, trying to figure out what the hell Valerie is talking about. He needs to tread lightly, so he doesn't accidentally spill Danny's secret. He doesn't think she knows, despite how weird her question is.

"Just think about it for a minute, okay?" Valerie says. She releases Tucker and steps back, crossing her arms.

Tucker composes himself, smoothing out his shirt, and gives her a dirty look. He decides to indulge her anyway. With a great, dramatic sigh, Tucker taps his chin, looking up at the ceiling, then down at the floor. He hums and haws, making a great show of how terrible and strenuous thinking about this is, and then he shrugs.

"Nope, can't say I know what you mean." Brushing past Valerie, he heads for the door.

She reaches out and grabs his collar again, yanking him back.

"Come on, you're gonna stretch it!" Tucker whines, batting Valerie's hand off.

"I'm being serious here, Tucker. You've never seen anyone looking, I don't know, afraid of Danny? Kind of wary?"

"Afraid? Of Danny? You can't be serious, he's not–" Tucker freezes.

"What is it?" Valerie reaches out for him again.

Tucker smacks her hands away and skips out of her reach. "A couple months ago. I had my cousin over, and Danny hung out with us for a bit. They were acting really weird. I thought it was about their mom. And then I thought it was because they weren't out the last time they saw Danny, but they said it wasn't either of those and told me to drop it."

"Danny came over to my place to work on our history project last week. On the bus, people wouldn't stop looking at him. He brushed it off, but that's weird, right?" Valerie asks. "They looked like... like they were afraid."

Tucker laughs. "So weird. Can you imagine people being scared of Danny?"

It's the most ridiculous thing either of them has heard all year. They break down into a fit of laughter, falling against each other. It's so outlandish and absurd that you couldn't make it up if you tried.

Which is why Star, who has her ear pressed against the sound booth door, grins and takes off the moment the conversation dissolves into laughter. She has only one thought in mind: Paulina has got to hear about this.

—

"No way."

"Yeah."

"No. Way."

"Yeah!" Star nods enthusiastically. "I swear that's what they said."

"Afraid of Fenton?" Paulina asks. Star's already said it three times, but it's so unbelievable she has to hear it again.

"Afraid of Fenton," Star repeats. "Foley's cousin and some," she waves her had dismissively, "Elmertonites."

"Ugh, Elmerton."

"I know."

"Who's Foley's cousin?" Paulina asks. She can't remember if Foley has any other family in the city, but Star would. Star's the only person who knows this town, and it's people, better than Paulina. They are the gossip queens and they make everybody's business their own. Knowing a little extra something about a certain somebody could always come in handy somewhere down the line.

"An out-of-towner," Star says.

"Interesting." Paulina closes her locker and leans against. She waves at a few boys walking by, giving them a disarming smile. They crane their necks around to keep looking at her for as long as they can. As soon as they're around the corner, Paulina's smile drops and she turns back to Star. "You know, I think now's a great time for my friend from New York to come visit!"

Star grins. "Oh, great idea, Paulie. Amity is so great this time of year."

They walk down the hall, arm in arm, giggling and conspiring.

—

Everyone knows about Paulina's New York friend. Theirs is a friendship built not out of love but a mutual desire to constantly get one up on each other. Which means they aren't friends at all. But, their dads are business partners, so the two girls often find themselves forced together. These occasions are typically full of sweet smiles and sweeter words. Which everyone knows is a clever rich girls choice weapon in any circumstance.

When Paulina invites Whitney van der Bloom to Amity Park for the weekend, Whitney answers with a cheerful, "Sweetie, do you even need to ask?"

Which really means, "Sweetie, why on Earth would I want to go?" Sweetie, in both cases, is not a complement.

Whitney goes, of course. With a slew of backhanded complements tucked in her pocket. The battle begins the moment her plane touches down and she is determined to come out of this weekend as the undisputed victor. Paulina may have a home advantage, but Whitney was born into this kind of conflict. New money always flounders around a bit before learning how to properly navigate the delicate social rules of high society, and she can tell Paulina is still getting her sea legs.

Whitney finds it adorable, like watching a baby toddle through their first steps.

On her walk through the airport, Whitney touches as little as possible. She left New York in a private plane, from a private airstrip, where every surface was clean and shiny. Amity Park was neither of those things.

By the main entrance, she finds Paulina's driver holding a sign with Whitney's name on it. She passes him her luggage, a single Gucci bag, and follows him outside to the waiting car. She's impressed by Paulina's power play, although she would never say it out loud. Staying in the car while sending her driver out to collect Whitney, like a nanny picking up a child from daycare, is a bold move.

It's fine. Whitney will let her have the lead, for now. She won't have it for long.

The driver opens the back door. Whitney slides inside like she owns the car, tossing her hair over her shoulder, giving the driver a sugary smile. When she turns and gets her first good look at the inside, she freezes.

Rather than sitting on the other side of the car, at a respectful distance, Paulina is right beside her in the middle seat. And there are four other people with her. Paulina's little satellite—Whitney thinks her name is Sun—sits to her left. And across from them are two boys she doesn't know—and doesn't want to, based on how they're dressed—plus a girl she does know.

"Sammy?" Whitney asks, looking across the car at the Sam Manson, heir to the Manson fortune.

"Bloom," Sam greets her coolly. Sam doesn't even twitch at the nickname she loathes. Because that would be a sign of weakness, and she knows that if there's one thing you never want to do, it's look weak in front of Whitney van der Bloom. The girl may only be fifteen but she's a menace.

"Hi." Whitney drags out the "i," her voice rising and falling. "Oh. My. God. I haven't seen you since the Cabo retreat! What are the chances of seeing you here?"

Sam grins wickedly. "Pretty high, actually."

"Oh?" Witney doesn't have a response for that. Sam has always thrown her off, purely because she refuses to play the same games Whitney and Paulina do. It's infuriating.

She turns to the two strangers instead, looking them up and down. The boy on Sam's right makes her cringe. A turtleneck and cargo pants? Whitney would give him points for boldness if the colours weren't so garish. When she meets his eyes, he wiggles his eyebrows at her.

Whitney immediately decides she wants nothing to do with him.

The other boy, sitting right across from her, isn't much better. Worn out jeans that are actually worn out and weren't just made to be like that, and a ratty old t-shirt with a flaming green "F" on it. Gross. Resisting the urge to curl her lip, she lifts her eyes to his face.

He's not looking at her. He's looking down and away, his stare so intense it should be burning a hole in the carpet. Little does she know, it could, with very little effort on his part.

Normally, Whitney takes that kind of gesture as a sign of submission. Instant victory. Right now, something about this boy makes her think she doesn't want his eyes on her.

"Whit! I'm so happy you could come!" Paulina throws her arms around Whitney's shoulders and pulls her in for a hug, kissing Whitney's cheeks twice.

Whitney snaps out of her daze, although not fast enough to return the kisses. Another victory for Paulina.

"Of course, Lina!" Whitney says. She sees the boy in the turtleneck mouth "Lina" at Sam. She wonders what their relationship is. "There's no way I would pass up the chance to visit somewhere as quaint as Amity Park. It's nice to get a break from the lavish lifestyle, you know?"

"Oh, I know. You look like you need a nice rest." Paulina smiles widely.

Whitney's eye twitches. "So, Lina, who are your friends?"

"Well, you already know Sam. I didn't realize you ran in such high circles," Paulina said, earning another twitch. Before she can say anything back, Paulina moves on. "And these two are her friends. Tucker." The boy in the turtleneck, "and Danny." The boy that Whitney does not want to look at her.

Paulina leans forward and grabs Danny's arm, pulling him right out of his seat. He yelps and stumbles, bumping his head on the top of the car. Tucker reaches out to stop him, but Sam holds her arm out and keeps him back, wearing that same fiendish smirk. Before Whitney can figure out what's happening, Star's moved to take Danny's place, and Paulina has slid over to the other side of the car. She drags Danny down and sits him right next to Whitney.

"Danny's such a good friend, I can't believe I haven't introduced you to him sooner," Paulina says. She's still hugging his arm, pushing him forward a little more so Whitney has no choice but to squeeze up against the door to avoid touching him.

She doesn't want to touch him. She doesn't want to be next to him. She doesn't even want to be in the same car as him. Whitney unconsciously reaches for the door handle, but the car's already moving. She's trapped.

"Don't be rude, Danny. Say hi to Whitney," Sam says. She looks like the cat that ate the canary. And Whitney feels like the bird.

Danny gives Sam a disgruntled look before turning to Whitney. "Uh, hey, Whitney," he says.

Whitney tenses. The sound of his voice sends shivers down her spine. It washes over her, raising goosebumps along her arms. The cold certainly doesn't help. She thinks it's the AC in the car, until Danny's arm brushes against hers and she flinches away. His skin is icy to the touch.

"Sorry," Danny mutters. He finally looks at her.

Whitney wilts under his stare. Looking into his eyes is like looking into an endless expanse. Her own gaze jumps around, searching, but Danny's holds steady. Not even a twitch. Whitney's not even sure if he's blinked since she got in the car. When he looks away, his eyes slide off her.

"You– you're very," she stammers. For once, her words are lost to her.

Paulina's smile is bright as the sun. She leans back, giving Danny the space to do the same, and Whitney quickly tries to compose herself. She steadies her breathing, checking the other occupants of the car to see how they reacted. Tucker looks curious. Sam looks smug. Star looks delightfully vapid, eyes wide and smile wider.

"They're going to be with us all day, I hope you don't mine," Paulina says. "Danny knows the city really well, and Sam. Well, like I said. She's a Manson."

Whitney, still at a loss for words, nods numbly.

"This will be so much fun!" Star says, clapping her hands together.

Whitney doesn't think so.

—

Whitney lasts for four hours, which is far longer than anyone expected.

"I'm almost impressed," Star says, waving at Whitney's private jet as it takes off. "She's very good at faking important phone calls."

"Just never tell her that to her face," Paulina says. Hand on her hip, she eyes Sam, Tucker, and Danny. "I guess we can give you all rides home. But I hope you know this was a one-time thing. Mostly because Whitney probably won't come back after that."

"Uh." Danny raises his hand. "How do you know the phone call wasn't important? Why won't she be back? She's your friend, isn't she?"

"Oh, Danny. You're so sweet, you know that?" Paulina pats his cheek and pivots. Swaying her hips, she starts walking back toward the car. It's not even an insult this time.

"Thank you? I guess?" Danny says.

"Come on, Fenton. I might even help you with your math for what you did today." Star grabs his wrist and drags him after Paulina.

"I didn't do anything!"

Sam and Tucker linger a moment longer, watching Whitney's plane disappear into the sky. Tucker turns to Sam and says, "I'm so confused. Why did you even agree to this?"

Sam shrugs. "Whitney van der Bloom sucks."

"Yeah. Yeah, she does."

—

Paulina and Star eagerly spread the word: Danny Fenton scares outsiders. The rumour spreads quickly throughout Casper High, although everyone is careful never to mention it while Danny himself is around. Not even Sam and Tucker tell him. It's one of those rumours you don't want getting back to the person it's about. Not because it's bad, but because it's a hell of a lot more fun when they don’t know.

Nobody really gets the "why," except those who know Danny best. To everyone else, he's a scrawny kid with eccentric parents, and he wouldn't hurt a fly. Most of them decide outsiders are just weird like that and put it out of mind. But Mikey, clever kid that he is, decides to put Danny's mysterious ability to work.

"I'll help you with your physics homework if you cheer us on at the decathlon," Mikey says. He leans across the aisle between their desk, whispering low enough that the teacher won't hear them.

"You do sports?" Danny asks, raising on eyebrow.

"No, it's academic. Don't be ridiculous."

On the edge of his seat, Mikey waits for Danny's reply. The decathlon is tomorrow, which may have been short notice, but Mikey isn't a fool. He knows academics bore the hell out of Danny and the only way he will go is with incentive. Mikey waited until they got their most recent test back. Peeking at Danny's paper, he can see his classmate failed, which is good news for him.

One decathlon is a small price to pay for a passing grade.

Danny looks down at the big red F on his test. He whispers back, "Sure. When is it? Do people have to dress nice for these things?"

"Tomorrow. And," Mikey pauses a moment to consider, "yes. I mean, no. Not nice, but there's this thing we do. It's okay, I'll have you covered. Just wear what you usually do."

Danny looks uncertain, but Mikey knows he'll accept. He gave Danny no other choice.

—

Mikey tries to gauge Danny's reaction when he passes over the hoodie. It's ten minutes to the start of the competition. They're backstage getting ready for the judge to call them out. At the moment, they're separated from the other team, but there's no rule against some friendly banter before things get going, so Mikey has a plan. A plan that needs Danny to wear this hoodie.

Danny holds it up, frowning at the design on the front. A fierce raven with bright green eyes carrying a bloodied snake in its beak; they're competing with Silver Valley today whose mascot is a snake. He picks up the hood, inspecting the mask sewn into it. It's a simple black masquerade mask with a long, beak-like nose.

"And this is... standard?" Danny asks, lowering the hoodie so he can look Mikey in the eyes.

Mikey nods emphatically. "Yeah. I know decathlons don't seem exciting, but we get really into it. Lots of people do this."

"And you just had a hoodie with this exact picture lying around?" Danny turns the hoodie around, displaying the graphic image on the front.

"Yeah. Lester wore it last time. He's let me borrow it for you today," Mikey lies. It actually cost him thirty bucks to get custom made, but the mask was cheap. Besides, the competition today has a cash prize, which will more than make up for it when his team wins.

"If you say so," Danny says. He shucks off his button up and pulls the hoodie on instead, pushing the hood down to rest at the back of his neck.

Mikey immediately pulls it back up and lowers the mask over Danny's eyes. "It's part of the school spirit," Mikey says.

"Riiight." Danny adjusts the mask, but he doesn't take it down. "Shouldn't I be sitting in the audience?"

"You will. But I wanted to introduce you to the other team first. It's a sportsmanship thing," Mikey explains. He beckons Danny forward, leading him down a long hall behind the stage. As the hall opens up into the wings of the stage, the other team comes into view.

Like Mikey and the other decathlon members, they wear matching jackets. Although where Casper's jackets are red, Silver Valley wears grey.

Danny stops just before stepping into their line of sight. "Mikey," he hisses. "I don't see anyone dressed like a snake over here."

"Just trust me. You want that physics help, right?" Mikey only feels a little guilty about tricking Danny like this. Mikey's not actually hurting him, and they aren't breaking any competition rules, so it's fine.

Danny shuffles his feet, giving the other team a solid once through, and nods.

"Hi, everyone!" Mikey says, drawing the team's attention. "We just wanted to come over and wish you good luck! Friendly competition and all that."

Watching them closely, Mikey catches the exact moment they lay eyes on Danny, and it is so much better than he could have hoped. The whole team freezes. Mikey can see their eyes dilating, like they've been shot with a burst of adrenaline, a little kick-starter in their fight-or-flight response. Judging by the way a few of them shuffle back, they're leaning toward flight.

Mikey revels in the fear in their eyes. "Good luck!" he says.

"Yeah." Mikey turns at Danny's voice. For a second, he thinks he sees something in Danny's eyes, something swirling and green. But in a blink, it's gone. Danny smiles brightly, but with the mask it looks downright villainous. "Good luck. I think you'll need it."

The Silver Valley team pales. Casper High wins by a landslide that day.

—

The story of Casper High's raven boy spreads from Silver Valley out to other schools. Most of them think it's just a rumour, but enough people pass it along that it eventually works its way back to Casper and into the ears of one Dash Baxter. Dash, being the proud jock he is, can't let himself be one-upped by a nerd.

"Hey, Fenton!" he calls out to Danny at lunch hour. Shoving his way between Sam and Tucker, Dash slams his hands down on the table. Danny flinches. "Relax, I'm not here to wail on you. For once."

Sam shoves Dash's hand off the table. "Great, then get the hell out of here," she says.

"Shut up, Manson. I ain't talking to you." Dash sneers. He turns his focus back to Danny. "I got a proposition for you."

"I can't believe he knows the word proposition," Tucker whispers.

"I said shut it!" Dash raises his hand to smack Foley upside the head. Halfway through the swing, Danny lurches forward and snatches Dash's wrist.

"Dash, if you want to make a deal or something, I don't think hitting my best friend is the right way to start," Danny says.

Dash scowls at him. He jerks his hand out of Danny's grip and steps back, rubbing his wrist. He won't say it out loud, but Danny's got a pretty good grip. "Yeah, whatever. He's not worth it anyway."

"Dash."

People are staring at them now. Most of them looking for a show Dash isn't going to give, at least not today. Eager to get this over with fast, Dash leans over until he's so close there's no way anyone could overhear them.

"Listen. You do one thing for me, and maybe I won't wail on you for a week," he says.

Danny shoots him a deadpan stare. "Maybe?"

"Fine," Dash relents. "I definitely won't."

"What do I have to do?"

"Come to our next football game."

"I'm sorry?"

"Are you deaf, Fenton? Come. To. The. Game." Dash enunciates carefully, slapping his palms down with each word, leaning closer in. Danny reels back so far that he has to grab the table to keep from slipping off the bench. "And wear the sweater."

Dash saunters away before Danny has a chance to respond. The prying eyes turn away then, more than a few disappointed by the turn of events. Danny ignores them in favour of turning to his friends.

"Do you guys know what sweater he's talking about?" he asks.

"Probably the one Mikey had you wear," Tucker says. "Because it's so s–" Sam kicks him under the table. "–exy! It's uh... it's a sexy sweater."

"Oh, my god." Sam drops her face into her hands.

—

Danny doesn't know it's not standard practice to shake hands with the opposing team's quarterback, and their backup quarterback, and their backup backup quarter back before a football game. But he is pretty sure it's weird for him, a random student, to be doing it instead of someone from the actual team.

"Just stand in front of 'em until they shake your hand, that's it," Dash says, shoving Danny toward the Waterford Heights Weasels. He waves impatiently, motioning Danny forward. Dash personally doesn't see what's so scary about the getup. A sweat with a bird and a mask, big whoop. But he's willing to try it, anyway.

"Think it'll work?" Kwan asks. They stand side-by-side, arms crossed, elbows brushing. The rest of the team mills about behind them, some of them spying on Fenton, others getting in the right headspace for the game. It's only a couple minutes to kickoff.

Dash shrugs. "Worth a shot."

It's a great night for a game. The sky is clear. It's not too chilly. There's still an hour before the sun will set. It means they'll have the light in their eyes for half the game, but if this works, that won't even matter.

Dash and Kwan watch Danny approach the first player. They made sure to give him the jersey numbers beforehand. Kwan, who has neater penmanship, wrote them down on Danny's palm. Their original idea was to have him greet the whole team but that would take too long. They settled for the key players instead.

Danny plants himself in front of the star quarterback and sticks his hand out. Dash snickers when the guy tries to step around Danny, and Danny sidesteps right back into his path. He says something and shoves his hand in the quarterback's direction again.

"You think Fenton's playing along?" Kwan asks.

"Nah. As if he even knows what's up. Did you see the blank look he gave me in the cafeteria? Besides, I upped the 'no-beating' time to two weeks if he did the handshakes."

Kwan touches his fingers as he silently counts the dates in his head. "That's the next home game."

"Yep. If this works tonight, I might just give him the offer again then."

The Waterford's quarterback eventually shakes Danny's hand, scurrying away as soon as he's released. Danny moves on to the next one.

That night, the Waterford Weasels don't get a single touchdown.

—

Danny is suddenly the most popular kid at school, at least amongst the jocks. Considering how much weight Casper High puts behind their athletic programs, that makes him pretty damn high on the food chain. Not that he seems to realize.

The basketball team, the volleyball team, even the cheerleaders. They drag a confused Danny along whenever they can and set him lose on the opposing team. There's always a bribe, of course. Everybody knows Danny isn't big into school spirit. He'd never gone to a single game before all this, after all.

At first, they're just using him. He freaks out the competition so much it throws them off their game, which means a lot more trophies to fill up Casper High's dusty case in the near future. Eventually, though, it becomes something else. There's still the raw, primal joy of seeing Danny scare the hell out of some outsiders, but they start inviting him to the after parties, too. They let Danny's friends tag along. Dash even gives him a friendly slap on the back one day when they're passing in the hall.

Three months ago, nothing like that would have happened. Three months ago, Dash would have stuffed you in a locker for even suggesting it.

By some miracle, they manage to keep the teachers out of the loop. If any of them asks, the students either answer with a shrug, or suggest that Fenton's turned a new leaf and he's really into school spirit now. Most of them go for the shrug.

It doesn't last forever, though. The students get bolder, inviting Danny to away games outside the city. He rejects most of them, no matter how sweet the bribe, with a number of excuses.

"I have homework."

"I've got some extracurricular stuff to work on."

"I don't have a car."

"You don't need a car, we've got a bus!" Dash says.

Danny, already turning to walk away, stops. "What?"

"You can ride on the team bus with us," Dash says. It's not exactly conventional, but they've got the room for it. All they have to do is sneak Danny past Tetslaff and keep him out of sight until they're on the road. There's not much she can do about it once they've already set out.

"Are you serious?" Danny asks.

Dash rolls his eyes, not even deigning Danny with a proper response. Fishing his notebook out his backpack, Dash quickly scribbles out the time and date of the away game, plus when the team bus is going to leave.

Danny eyes the piece of paper, frowning as he tries to decipher Dash's cramped handwriting.. "You don't even know if I'll show up."

"You'll show up."

"I doubt it."

—

Danny shows up. He meets Dash by the back door, already donning the sweater he's now permanently borrowed from Mikey. He asked Mikey if Lester would ever want it back, but Mikey assured him his debt is settled. Whatever that means.

"Tetslaff usually waits until all the equipment is loaded up before getting on. We just have to sneak you by her, which won't be too hard," Dash says.

"You realize I'm not shorter than you anymore, right?" Danny asks.

Dash squints. No, he hadn't, actually. Even though they see each other every day, Dash still pictures Danny as the same wimpy kid from freshman year. But Danny's right. He has a few inches on Dash, now that they're a couple years older, although he's still got nothing in terms of muscle mass. Just looking at him, Dash is pretty sure Mikey has more muscle than Danny does.

"Whatever, let's just go." Dash leads Danny over to the bus.

Tetself stands with her back to them. She oversees the rest of the team as they throw their equipment bags into the storage compartment at the bottom of the bus. She's completely oblivious to the two rule breakers heading her way.

But Kwan and Dale see coming from afar and jog over to join them. They fall into step on Dash's left, making a little wall between Danny and Tetslaff. If Danny ducks his head, he's completely out of view. They're almost home free, a few feet from the bus, when Danny's foot slips into a rut in the grass he careens forward.

He cries out in shock, throwing his arms out to catch himself. Dash manages to snag his arm before he hits the ground, jerking Danny to a stop. He hangs there a moment, body limp, blinking at the grass and wondering if that really just happened.

"Daniel Fenton, what are you doing?" Tetslaff asks.

Dash jostles Danny out of his daze. He scrambles upright, brushing himself off as Tetslaff approaches. She stops right in front of him, fists on her hip, her glare stern.

"Getting on the bus?" Danny says.

Behind Tetslaff, Dash slaps a hand against his face.

"Only team members are allowed on the team bus. Those are the rules."

"But coach, he's out lucky charm!" Dash protests.

Tetslaff turns, squinting at Dash. Crossing her arms, she leans toward him. "Oh, yeah? How so?"

Dash, Kwan, and Dale share a long, considering look. Kwan shrugs. Dale tilts his head back. Shooting Danny a wary glance, Dash beckons Tetslaff over, out of earshot. She stays rooted to the spot.

"Please, Coach?"

Normally, a little something like saying please wouldn't do a lick of help in swaying Tetslaff. She's as stubborn as her arms are thick. But today, she feels a little indulgent. The team's being doing great, both in practice and on field. She's willing to give a little, if only for all the effort they're giving her back.

With a sigh, Tetslaff follows Dash.

"He scares the hell out of the other players so that they mess up and we win," Dash confesses once they're out of earshot.

Tetslaff's eyebrows shoot up her forehead. "Fear tactics, huh? Didn't want to rely on you own skill?"

"That's not it! I know we're a great team. We don't need Fenton. But he makes us work harder for it. He's kind of motivating, you know?"

Tetslaff looks at Dash and says nothing. With a shake of her head, she marches back to Danny. "Mr. Fenton, you're coming with me."

Danny gives the team a helpless look, a weak shrug, and follows their coach back into the school.

"Damn," Kwan says. "Almost had it."

"Did you mean what you said about Fenton, Dash?" Dale asks.

"I think I did?" Dash watches Danny and Tetslaff until they disappear through the doors. "I don't know about you guys, but whenever he scares the other team, I kind of want to earn that."

Dale nods. "Man, I wanted to see the fear in their eyes.

"Huh." Kwan taps his chin, deep in thought. "Does anyone else think we should be concerned about the fact that we enjoy that so much?"

All at once, more than half the team drones, "Nah."

"I think you're right, though," Kwan says to Dash. "Having Danny around is kind of fun."

"Today's game is gonna be so boring." Dale moans in disappointed. He boards the bus, quickly followed by his teammates. Soon enough, everyone is on and in their seats. All they need is for Tetslaff to return. She's gone for a solid ten minutes. There are still a few hours before the game starts, but it makes the players antsy. Dash keeps checking out the window for any sign of her.

The school's back door opens. Dash perks up, leaning toward the glass as Tetslaff steps out. She holds the door open. Danny comes out after her. And he's wearing the official Casper High Raven costume.

"Boys!" Tetslaff says when she climbs back on the boss. "Say hello to our new mascot!"

Her declaration is met with a round of cheers.

—

It's two hours before the game. Danny sits on a bench outside the locker rooms, the raven head resting beside him. When Tetslaff offered to make him the mascot, he admittedly hesitated. In the past, he didn't have time for stuff like this. But things are a little easier now, ghost-wise. His parents are better hunters. Valerie proves time and again how capable she is. The ghosts themselves have even backed off a little since Danny started junior year.

For the first time since starting high school, he actually has the time to do high school things outside of homework. It won't be his first time acting as the official mascot, either. He used to fill in for the mascot in freshman year, before things got too much for Danny to handle and he had to drop it.

He wishes Tetslaff let him keep wearing his hoodie, though. The raven costume isn't that comfortable.

The door to the locker rooms opens. Paulina steps through, already in her cheerleading outfit even though there's still an hour before she needs to be on the field. She takes one look at Danny and says, "Oh, hell no."

Danny recoils, offended. He thought they were on sort of good terms after everything with Whitney, but apparently, he was wrong.

"Tetslaff already made me the mascot, Paulina. I'm here whether you like it or not," he says.

"No, duh. I'm pretty sure you two were the only ones who didn't know you're are mascot." Paulina flicks the shoulder of the raven suit. It makes a dull thunk. The plastic feathers barely twitch. "But you're not scaring anyone in that thing. What are you gonna do, say 'boo?'"

Danny thinks about all the little tricks he has up his sleeve and grins. "I think you'd be surprise."

The costume may be bulky and round, with a wide friendly smile that gives one of those "huggable mascot" looks, but Danny's a ghost. If anybody can do scary, it's him. The past few months have proved that nicely.

"Wait, wait, wait," Paulina says, holding up her hands. She pivots in front of Danny and grabs his shoulders. "You know that you scare people?"

"I mean, yeah? It's kind of hard not to." Danny shakes his head. After the fifth time some stranger flinches away from your touch, you start piecing things together.

"And you never said anything?"

Danny honestly didn't think he had to. Did everyone just expect him not to catch on? Yes. Yes, they did. But that's not the point right now. Danny rubs the back of his neck and chuckles nervously. "I don't really care much about being popular anymore, but it's kind of nice to be invited to stuff, you know?"

Paulina doesn't believe him for a second. She crosses her arms and gives him a critical star. "And?" she asks.

Danny looks at her, looks away. Kicks the grass with his foot. He knows exactly what she wants to hear. He wants to deny it, but he can't. Sheepishly, he admits, "And it's kind of fun."

"Perfect. Then you won't mind what I'm about to do to you."

"Wait, what? Paulina, I– ah!" Paulina grabs his arm and drags him into the girl's locker room.

—

Danny holds himself perfectly still, arms out from his body. "Paulina, I don't think–"

"Ah, ah, ah! I'm almost done! No moving. And make sure you don't lean back against things too much, or else you'll smudge it." Paulina peers under Danny's arm, holding a paintbrush slathered in blue body paint so dark it's almost black.

"Aren't our team colours red and white?" Danny asks. Turning his arms over, he scans the parts of his skin Paulina has already finished painting. Bold feathers cover most of his upper arm, going up his shoulder and, from what Danny could feel as Paulina worked, down his back. She won't let him see what she's doing, though. He hopes it's cool.

"You mean the most boring colours in team colour history?" Paulina scoffs. She steps back, admiring her work for a moment, and drops her brush in the can of body paint. "I've been trying to get Ishiyama to change the school colours for years. Maybe with this, she will."

"Are you don’t yet?"

"Boy, I worked hard on this, let me breathe it in before you go out there and ruin it."

"Mikey's hoodie was scarier."

"Mikey's hoodie was garish. This is a work of art."

Danny picks at his new pants, heavy things made of a thick material and covered in a generous layer of black feathers. At least his legs will be warm tonight.

"You think I'm scarier without a shirt on? Gee, thanks." Danny rolls his eyes. He's not as offended as he sounds, though. Being a half ghost has led to some physical qualities he would rather do without, but can't do anything to change. Like an incredibly fast metabolism that burns through everything he eats before he even has a chance to taste it. Jazz keeps telling him he has to start making health choices, so he doesn't pass out or keel over from hunger.

He tries, but there's only so much he can do, and his ribs seem to be permanently on display. Danny pokes them now, scowling at how they press against his skin. That is so not healthy. He lets his hand drop back to the feathered pants.

"Where did you even get this on such short notice?" he asks. All Paulina did was make a phone call, then someone came buy and dropped off a paper bag with the pants, body paint, and a smaller plastic bag inside.

"I already had it made, silly. I told you, that sweater was so ugly. I couldn't let you keep repping Casper High in something like that." The noise Paulina makes is nothing short of disgusted. She really hates Mikey's sweater, effective as it was. But this is going to be glorious.

Danny peeks over his shoulder, trying to catch his reflection in the mirror, but he can't get a good view.

"Look straight," Paulina commands, pushing Danny's cheek. She raises his arms. "Hold them out like this, perfectly still. Perfect."

She takes out her phone and snaps a few photos of Danny's back. Flicking through them, she chooses the best one, posting it to the Casper Ravens twitter page with the caption "new mascot unveiling tonight." Once she's done, she passes her phone to Danny to show him her handiwork.

"Whoa." Danny stares down at the delicately painted wings on his back. Paulina made them just right so that when he raises his arms, it looks like the wings are unfurling. "Okay, that's a lot cooler than Mikey's hoodie. A shirt would still be nice, though."

"It'd take away from the look. You're practically a skeleton. What'll freak people out more than that?"

"Really feeling the love, Paulie."

"No using my nickname for her!" Star shouts from behind a row of lockers.

Paulina shooed the other girls to the other side of the room when she brought Danny in to give him his new look. By now, they are all changed into their uniforms and ready to show they're spirit.

"Okay. I'll just call her Lina instead."

"Please, god, no." Paulina groans. "That name is so stupid."

The other cheerleaders giggle as they join Danny and Paulina in the main room. They look nice, wearing their matching pleated skirts and crop tops. With their hands on their hips, the pom-poms give their steps a little extra bounce.

"We know you haven't choreographed anything. Just do your think, and we'll do ours. I know you aren't as clumsy as people think," Star says. She gives Danny an encouraging pat on his cheek. It is not as motivating as she thinks it is.

The girls start lining up by the door, doing a few small jumps to get their blood pumping. Danny does the same, shaking out his arms and hopping from foot to foot. He moves to take his place at the end of the line.

"Hold it!"

"Oh, what now?" Danny groans, slumping over. Paulina's shoes invade his vision. She sticks a plastic bag under his nose, holding it out for him to take. "What's this?"

"The last piece of your costume. It's my favourite."

Danny removes the piece from the bag. He grins wickedly.

—

Balmoral High, as the home team, runs onto the field first. Having heard of Caspers' unusual intimidation tactics, they came prepared. The players run onto the field amidst a burst of sparklers and strobe lights flashing their team colours. It pumps up the crowd, just as it's meant to, and the team is met with a roar of approval.

They pump their fists, leaping and bounding across the field. Cheerleaders in short skirts and shorter tops wave their pom-poms, do cartwheels and flips, and spur the crowd on. Their mascot runs on last. A guy in a bear costume, his raises his arms and roars, slashing his paws through the air.

It's all very cute.

Casper High comes in with far less fanfare. The cheerleaders are first, swishing their hips and blowing kisses at the crowd. Raising their voices, they cry out to the crowd. "We're the corvid to your carrion! We're here to fight to the break of dawn!" The few people from Amity Park who could make the trek to the neighbouring city cheer back, cranking their noise makers and stomping their feet. The players charge in next, thrusting their helmets in the air. They have feathers paint on their cheeks.

A few Balmoral players snort, bumping elbows and pointing to the face paint. When the last Casper student runs onto the field, all of Balmoral turns to watch for the infamous mascot. No one comes.

"Ha!" Balmoral's linebacker, in the middle of the team huddle, shouts. It would seem that Casper's reputation isn't all it's cracked up to be.

"Excuse me?"

The linebacker freezes, feeling a tap on his shoulder. He turns, slowly, and sees a boy wearing raven skull mask and a devilish grin.

"Boo."

#phic phight #phic phight 2020 #tumblroneshots #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #phanfiction #phanfic #phicc #I had fun coming up with the cheer at the end #mascot!au

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rjhpandapaws · 3 years

Text

Will Never be Boring

Ch 3: A Weekend in Blue

Once they made middle school being a grade above everyone wasn’t s bad. They had a little more control over their classes and the electives were all mixed grades so he still had a chance to be with his friends. Understandably they all tried to match up. He wound up with a lot more creative type classes than he originally planned for. Connor wasn’t particularly creative. He preferred numbers and provable things, but getting to spend a little of his time with Markus everyday more than made up for it. Over the years Markus had added painting to his talents, and Connor was always blown away by the sheer amount of feeling in them. He always seemed delighted when he got to see Connor’s child like messy drawings in turn. Personally, he despised them. Middle school brought more work with it so it became more difficult to hang out as an entire group. They began to section off a little and it left Connor feeling strangely. He had always thought the group of them would stay close. It wasn’t like there was fighting or anything, they were just drifting. His dad said these kinds of things happened sometimes, and that they would come back together eventually.

Markus made a few of his own friends, but in all of that he tried not to leave Connor behind. He knew Markus’s birthday was coming up and Connor was trying to figure out what to do for it. He wasn’t very creative so a homemade card or poem was immediately out of the question. That left using his saved up allowance to buys something, or giving up. He did his best to come away with something that wasn’t overly predictable, and failed horribly. He eventually decided on a book of advanced painting techniques and a new paint set to go with it. Better than the sketchbook he’d originally been debating, but not great. In the end it didn’t really seem to matter much because he wasn’t invited to the birthday party. The only people that got to go were the friends from his various art classes, which Connor found strange. Connor tried to be reasonable about it. He wasn’t very comfortable around Markus’s new friends. Maybe he had been trying to respect that. It didn’t lessen the sting, but this made it easier not to be upset. He was sure Markus had a reason. In the years they had been friends he had never been to Markus’s house. The most of he knew of it was that he lived up on the hill where all of the nice houses were with his brother and his grandpa; though Connor had never met either of them.

It was about a week after the party, and after the gifts had made their home at the top of Connor’s closet, that Markus approached him about it. He looked just as uncomfortable as Connor felt. They hadn’t really talked since Connor’s birthday, and he had been trying his best to make peace with the fact that Markus was drifting away from him. Just like everyone else. “Hey Connor?” He asked once they were settled in their art class, “Can. uh, can we talk please?” He looked down and tapped his fingers against the table to try and get rid of some of his nervous energy, “Are you sure you want to talk to me? Why not talk to your other friends?” Markus was quiet for a long moment and Connor realized that he might have been a little harsh. “Because,” He said eventually, “They aren’t the ones I hurt without meaning to. I’d like a chance to explain myself if you’ll let me.” It was is turn to be quiet this time. In part because their teacher was talking and he didn’t want to draw attention to himself; and because he wasn’t sure he was ready to learn that Markus had outgrown him too. “Okay.” He said quietly, “If you want to.”

“Will you listen, or are you still upset?” He asked and waited for Connor’s tentative nod before he continued, “I know I probably should have said this before the party and I’m sorry for that; but I didn’t invite you because I knew you would be uncomfortable. As much as I wanted you there, I couldn’t invite you knowing you would be miserable if I did.” He explained, “My plan had been to have that party last weekend, and one for just the two of us this weekend. Um, if you, well if you still want to anyway.” Connor could have cried, but he wasn’t about to have a breakdown in class, “Of course I still want to.” Then, after he had collected himself a little more, “I’m sorry for being rude.” “It’s fine. I’m just glad you aren’t upset with me anymore.” He smiled. Just like that, things were back to normal. Markus had his other friends, but he also didn’t seem to have plans to leave Connor behind. The weight of wondering where he had gone wrong that had been threatening to bury him was finally off his shoulders. He could breathe again. When he got home the first thing he did was try to wrap the presents he had bought Markus. Just this once, his homework could wait.

A single interaction with one of Markus’s art friends was all the proof Connor needed. While Echo was very kind, she was also very touchy and Connor was immediately uncomfortable. She stopped when he asked her to, but he still chose to excuse himself from the interaction. He was glad now, that Markus had thought to keep him away from this. As he headed to the library he heard one last thing. “I don’t think your seventh-grader friend likes me much.” Echo told Markus, “Did I do something wrong?” “No.” Markus said kindly, “It just takes him a while to warm up to people.” He supposed that was true enough. He was just wary. Kids his age were loud for whatever reason and it got to be too much a lot of the time. It was just easier to keep his distance and wait for someone to come to him. He still felt a little guilty though, Echo had only been trying to be nice. Maybe on a day when he had more spoons he could try again, and just try and stay out of arm’s reach or something. He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings and he wanted to fix it.

Friday he came to school with an extra bag. Inside were the things he needed for the weekend and the presents he had gotten for Markus. He was equal parts excited and nervous. He hadn’t gotten to meet Markus’s family and he was worried they might not like him. The plan was to ride Markus’s bus at the end of the day and then again on Monday morning. Of course, if he got uncomfortable he could always call his dad to come get him, or walk home if it came to that. Perks of living in the same neighborhood he supposed. It wasn’t that he expected things to go wrong, it just eased his anxiety to know that he had a way out if he needed one. Markus seemed to understand which was nice. Since it was their first big weekend like this, Markus had helped him come up with a color system. Blue meant things were fine; yellow meant that he needed a moment to himself to try and get it together; and red meant it was time to go home. He hoped he wouldn’t have to use red, but just like his exit plan, it was a nice thing it have in case he needed it.

The day passed faster than he would have liked and he wasn’t ready for the sheer number of the kids on the bus. His bus was usually pretty crowded, but never like this. It made a little more sense why their neighborhood had three different buses now. “Color?” Markus asked s they settled in one of the seats toward the back. “Blue.” He replied. He hadn’t been expecting this many kids, but he was okay for now, “I’m alright.” Markus took his hand and squeezed it, “You can always listen to your music if you need to, that’s what I do sometimes.” “I might.” He replied, but for now he wanted to try and stick it out for as long as he could. He managed about half of the ride before he had to put on his noise cancelling headphones or risk having a panic attack. It wasn’t that anything in particular had happened, the constant chatter had just grated on his nerves more than he planned. His bus wasn’t exactly quiet, that was categorically impossible for middle schoolers, but he was used to his bus and not this one. Markus only squeezed his hand again and then let him be until it was time to get off. He was thankful to be free of all that noise.

“How do you deal with that every single day?” He asked after he had taken his headphones off. Markus gave a nonchalant shrug, “I’ve lived with Leo my whole life. They aren’t any louder than him on any given day.” “I suppose that helps.” He said distantly, he wasn’t ready to deal with more noise so soon after the bus. “You don’t have to worry about him though.” He replied, “He’s got plans tonight at least. It’s just going to be the two of us and my Grampa tonight, so the house should be pretty quiet today.” That was reassuring at least, “Okay. Is your Grandpa nice?” Markus actually laughed at that as they turned up a long walkway, “Yes, he is. You don’t have to worry about anything Connor, I promise.” “Got it.” He said, but he still took Markus’s hand. They were quiet the rest of the walk to the door. Connor was trying his best to relax. Markus said there was nothing to worry about, and Connor wanted to believe him, but his anxiety wasn’t as easily swayed. “Color?” Markus asked when they got to the door. “Blue.” He replied after a long moment, “I think.”

That seemed to be a good enough answer because Markus turned his key in the lock and pushed the door open. Along side being the biggest house Connor had ever seen, it was also the fanciest. Despite all of that, as he stood in the entry way with Markus’s hand in his, he didn’t feel at all out of place. “Grampa,” Markus called into the house, “We’re home.” “Okay kiddo,” Came the reply from further in the house, “I’m in the gallery.” Connor took off his shoes out of habit before they went any further into the house. Markus didn’t, but waited for him before he lead him up the stairs. They set their stuff up in Markus’s room before they headed for the gallery. The more he saw of the house, the more in awe of it he was. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting Markus’s grandpa to be like, but it didn’t include him being covered in tattoos or wheelchair bound. He did his best not to stare, and instead tried to look at the paintings that were scattered around the room. Some were properly placed on the walls, but most were leaned against the walls, furniture and even other paintings. Every single one of them took his breath away. He knew now at least where Markus’s sheer talent came from.

“You must be Connor.” He said with a smile as he wheeled himself closer, “I’ve heard great things about you. I’m Carl.” “It’s nice to meet you sir.” He replied and shook the hand that was being held out to him. Carl laughed, “Sir makes me feel old, just call me Carl, or Grampa if that’s easier on you.” “Okay si - Carl.” His trip up earned him an amused smile, “Did you paint all of these?” “Most of them.” He replied, “Some of them are Markus’s.” “Grampa,” Markus cut in, “He doesn’t know.” “I don’ t know what?” Connor asked as he looked between the two of them. “Grampa is the famous painter Carl Manfred.” He clarified. “Was.” Carl corrected with a sternness to his voice that left Connor a little rattled, “I haven’t done much public work since my accident. I’d like to keep it that way, so this knowledge stays in this room. Okay?” Connor made a zipper motion over his lips and both of them smiled, “Okay.”

They stayed in the gallery for a little while longer and Connor wandered around to get a better look at the paintings. After that the night was pretty normal. They had dinner, worked on homework, and talked about their classes with Carl. It was almost like being at home. This wasn’t nearly as nerve wracking as he thought it was going to be. After they had gone to Markus’s room for the night Connor got the presents out. He didn’t miss the smile that came to Markus’s face. “Before you worry,” He started when he noticed Markus was starting to look uncomfortable, “I bought these before your birthday.” He relaxed noticeably, “Okay, that’s what I was worried about.” “Anyway, happy late birthday Markus.” He picked up the two wrapped presents and held them out to him. Markus took them and Connor watched the joy spread across his face when he opened the reference book and thumbed through it. His smile only grew when he got yo he small paint set. He set the paints on his desk then put the book in a very specific place on his shelf. When he finished he settled beside Connor still beaming. “Can I hug you?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Connor had barely gotten the word out before he found himself caught in an embrace that was tight enough that it bordered on painful. “Thank you so much.” Markus said into his shoulder, “These are the only art related present I’ve gotten that weren’t from Grampa.” “What can I say” He replied as Markus pulled away, “I know you.” “You panicked didn’t you?” He asked. “Maybe.” He agreed. The weekend after that was spent with Connor sitting very still. Despite the fact that he was coerced into modeling for the two of them by Markus, he found himself hoping that Monday never came. Or at the very least, they could have a weekend like this again soon.

#Will Never be Boring #WNbB #Growing Old with You au #GOwY #RK1K #Conkus #dbh Markus #dbh Connor #dbh fic #dbh

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tetsunation · 3 years

Text

eleanor & park - sugawara koshi

☁ as far as i know, buses aren’t commonly used for transportation to schools in japan, so just pretend they do ride buses for the sake of the song (which is what i’m basing it off of, not the book). i absolutely hated this by the time i finished writing it LMFAOO but i gotta post something so

⚠ fem!reader, i didn’t proof read either oops. listen to eleanor & park by beabadoobee and girl in red while reading!

word count: 1.08k i did not mean to make it this long

it wasn’t the sound of that obnoxious alarm cutting through her fatigued mind, nor was it the sluggish way she sulked around the house as she proceeded to prepare for the school day. perhaps it was the way the puffy clouds painted the early miyagi sky, pillows of white floating across a river of orange and yellow pushing its way into a pale blue, or maybe the sound of the birds singing their wakeup calls right before it got too busy. but if there was anything she enjoyed about doing the same few, stressful things five days a week for a year, the morning bus rides took first place. it was easier to believe this than to admit a silver haired boy was the reasoning behind why y/n was immoderately eager to wake up each morning, the soft features of his face peeking behind the grey, blocky seats as she walked up the bus stairs never failed to tug a smile on her lips.

maybe it was the way he never failed to notice when she was even slightly off base. whether it be a shift in the stars or a failed test, suga would take notice immediately, even if she voiced it or not. the change in his demeanor matched y/n’s as soon as she stepped onto the bus, his empathy showing from the way his pretty lips curled into a troubled pout, slate colored brows furrowing while his eyes followed her frame all the way down the aisle to claim her spot besides him. the most indulgent of what’s wrong?’s rolled off his tongue, nothing but pure concern coating his words. koshi was just that type of boy. y/n didn’t know whether it was intentional or not, but the first time this happened, the other quickly rummaged through his bag and pulled out some comic book he had been reading in his free time. though she wasn’t an avid comic fan, she took it nonetheless. the gesture itself was kind enough, but being that it was from suga made it lots more meaningful. this became sort of a routine for the two: assuming that suga kept a stash of mangas in his bag, he’d pull one out as soon as he noticed a moderate drop in the girl’s happiness.

of course, the other had already finished reading the volumes he gifted to y/n, and none of them seemed to be in the same series unless she asked specifically, so amidst the groggy, mumbled discussions underneath the start of the sun’s rays, suga’s warm voice made its way right into y/n’s mind, explaining the plot of each comic in an enthusiastic yet hushed tone. it was one thing to hear him speak about something that peaked his interest, the way his widened hazel eyes seemed to gleam with passion, the beginnings of a gentle smile forcing its way onto his face, eliciting always-genuine laughs from his companion. but nothing seemed to compare to the way the words tumbled from his lips: light, but also child-like, never once reaching past a regular speaking voice. each word was well thought out, processed in his mind thoroughly, then coated with honey to ensure it was never harsh. perhaps it was the way she loved his voice, entrancing her with each gentle sentence, enough to smooth out anyone’s worries.

or perhaps it was his default altruistic nature, each act of affection building up as time passed. one day started off ideal and as normal, underneath the 6am shining sky, when it suddenly took a drastic turn towards noon, light showers turning into heavy rain to which y/n had not prepared for. equipped with nothing but the school’s uniform, she stood at her desk in her final class of the day, eyes trained on the racing of water droplets against the large window panes as she packed. waiting outside of the classroom stood a familiar slender figure, his halo of grey hair even more of a perfect mess today than before. of course, he had noticed y/n hadn’t entered the bus this morning with an umbrella, so here he was with an offer to walk her through the rain.

“are you feeling cold?” suga had asked twice: once on the way to the bus in the afternoon, and again when they had reached y/n’s stop. despite her answering with a quick no, and that he’d risk getting sick in the rain, suga was, with no hesitation, quick to lend her his puffy coat. albeit he had to walk home himself with a sole, thin volleyball jacket, he wasn’t one to back down for y/n either.

suga had to admit she looked a lot more breathtaking in his clothes than he anticipated, a dull pink dusting his cheeks. “you’re so sweet, koshi.” y/n had gotten up upon the bus coming to a halt at her stop. “i’ll let you know,” she added, still standing in the aisle next to their claimed seat, “you’re the type of guy i’ll never let go.”

or maybe it was the way she felt being secured in his grasp, taking in his natural scent of dull, sweet lavender. “why do you do this?” y/n had once asked. they were four months into the school year already, approximately 14 manga volumes total were exchanged from suga to her, and the presents just kept on coming. she was sure he had begun purchasing new mangas to give away as the condition of the pages progressively got better. this time had been particularly bad, y/n wiped the stray tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. take me in your arms had suddenly slipped past her lips, partially shocked at her sudden confession, but even more when suga did just that, turning the two to face each other as best as he could in a bus seat, arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders. suga knew he didn’t need to say much, it was a silently passed agreement between them that being in his presence alone was enough, not like he knew exactly what to say either. warmth radiating from his body to hers, the message of his embrace was clear: i’ll never leave you.

“i want you to feel adored," the boy whispered in response, looking down at her with a comforting grin. “i know you don’t have it easy, but you’ll get through it if you’re with me.”

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living-dead-parker · 4 years

Text

Homecoming Queen

Summary: Request by @kalianoble - I was thinking something along the same lines being Tony's daughter and friends with the team And someone actively is trying to replace her, but she sort of pours out everything into her music and songs that she writes

Inspiration: Homecoming Queen by Kelsea Ballerini

Songs Used in the fic (not my original writing, credit goes out to the musicians): With Ears To See And Eyes To Hear & The Left Side of Everywhere by Sleeping With Sirens

Pairings: Avengers x stark!daughter, Shawn Mendes x stark!daughter

Warnings: cussing I think, implied sex, ooc Avengers

Word count: 1.9 k

"Oh come on, she's not trying to replace you," your friend Serena states, trying to reassure you. Your frown deepens as you lean back in your chair until you're nearly falling off of it.

"The other day, she was in my dad's lab, laughing and chilling with him and Bruce, as if they've been friends their whole life. Then, they barely acknowledge me and she would try to get rid of me way too quick."

Your friends wince, not entirely too sure how to respond to that. However they do feel bad, seeing how much it's taking a toll on you. Meanwhile, you sulk in your pity. As spoiled as it may sound, you'd always gotten attention from your dad and the Avengers. They never bothered to get to know any other interns or temps. Why now? What's different this time around?

Eventually, you find yourself back home and upon entering the common room, you see Peter, Sam, and Bucky sitting on a couch each. Much to your disdain, Chrissy, the Avengers thief is there too. You feel the dislike bubble inside of you. A smirk evident on her face.

"Hey, you," Bucky calls out, offering you a smile.

"Hey," you respond, not feeling or sounding too eager. They all pick upon it, but what they don't pick up on is the way Chrissy glares at you. Chrissy scoots closer to Peter, resting a hand on his thigh. You chose to ignore it.

"Is everything okay?" Sam asks.

"As much as I'd like to chit chat," Chrissy speaks up, sounding way too sweet to actually be sweet. "I think Tony might be looking for you."

"He is?"

Chrissy shrugs, picking at her nails, not looking up at you. "Last I checked," she mumbles. You roll your eyes, walking off towards your room. He would have called it it was important.

From that point on, nobody talked to you for the rest of the day. You stayed in the comfort of your room's solitude. Not a single person asked about you. Not when Chrissy was there to entertain. An angry sigh escapes your lips as you watch them all play a game of Cards Against Humanity without you. Everyone laughs as Chrissy cheers from winning another round.

The days seemed to pass by much in this fashion. Days turned to weeks, which turned to months. It was slowly growing on you until being alone was all you wanted to do anymore. The lonliness began to eat you up, making you feel depressed and angry. You'd begun to feel like you were truly loosing your place, and slowly, your assurance in your purpose.

Chrissy continued to climb the ranks and everyone was wrapped around her finger. You'd try to reach out to the others, understanding that communication is a two way street. However, it always seemed to fall apart as soon as Chrissy walked into the room. You're convinced she's watching your every move because she's always there to intercept every single interaction. Ultimately, she got to a point where she was invited to events.

Parties, galas, and any other event was no longer fun because all you ever got was a simple greeting and a rushed five minute conversation.

You sit alone at a table at one of your father's gala after parties. The gold dress you wear making you stand out, yet no one approaches. until you see an all too familiar man slowly walk up towards your table. Curly brown hair, warm brown eyes, and an inviting yet excited smile. It's contagious as you find yourself smiling back.

"This seat taken?" he asks. Looking up at him, and with a certain excited gleam, you shake your head eagerly.

"Feel free," you respond, watching as he pulls the chair opposite you out and takes a seat.

"I'm Shawn-"

"Mendes, I know," you cut him off. He looks amused as you gasp from how rude you're being. "Sorry, I didn't mean to cut you off. I'm Y/N-"

"Stark, I know," he cuts in, a s mink on his lips as he leans back. You never really took him as a cocky person, bout here he is, making a Stark all flustered. "Can I ask why you're all alone?"

You seemed to naturally let your guard down around him. The walls were quick to fall and you held such deep and personal conversation with him. He reciprocated, letting you in on tons of personal information. As the night continued, the two of you talked, danced, and laughed together.

From that point on, the two of you became close friends and Shawn introduced you to the amazing world of writing and making music. As your family continued to push you away and fall into Chrissy's hand, you learned to write your feelings away in some of the most lyrically beautiful prose you could. So much so that Shawn was taken aback by it all.

As time passed, you found yourself constantly examining your relationship with Shawn, realising that it's not as platonic as you'd expected. The cuddling, the kisses, the hand- holding and gentle touching. Maybe the fact that you'd just slept with him last night, just before he's meant to leave for tour.

"Are you sure you'll be fine?" he asks, stepping out of the restroom, towel wrapped around his waist. You bite your lip as you watch him walk over. He picks up your shirt from the floor and tosses it at you nervously.

"I'll be fine," you tell him. He nods, still unsure. You sigh, kneeling on your bed and crawl over to him as he stands leaning against your bed. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, lips pecking his shoulder. "Seriously, I'll be fine," you assure him. "Maybe I'll write something new while you're out being a popstar," you joke. He chuckles, placing his lips to yours.

"Maybe you'll write something better than me," he states when he pulls away. "Who am I kidding? I know you can."

Your heart swelled at his words. How can someone be so sweet and caring? So loving.

Once he left, you were stuck by yourself. However, you didn't allow yourself to get upset because you decided that you cannot buse all your happiness around Shawn. So, you got up and got productive. You showered, cleaned your room, got breakfast, and cleaned some more. You managed to say hi to your dad before Chrissy came along and you went back to your room. You grabbed your notebook and your pen, walking over to the garden room, guitar case on your back.

"Okay, we can do this," you say as you pull your guitar out. You flip open to the last song you wrote, one that's close to completion. Just needs a line or two. You then press record on your phone's voice recorder app.

"Falling over and over again," you sing, trying the chords you'd accidentally strummed the other day. You decided to keep the same general progression. "Oh, why does it have to be this way?"

The sound wasn't working, so you ditched the guitar, trying to find a sound through other mediums.

"From the place I was, to the place I am, to the place I want to be," you sing, following your own tune, letting your voice be your guide. "For the mountains I've been climbing over and under and over," you continue, finding your voice.

"From the place that I was to the woman I've become, I'll be there to see the tower you fall from," you belt out, really getting into it. "No this kingdom isn't quite what it may seem. You're an illusion you'll never be queen."

You sigh, flipping the pages in your notebook. "We'll come back to that one later, let's try Left Side of Everywhere," you tell yourself. This song was complete, now it's just a matter of recording it.

"There is no doubt tonight," you sing as you strum along on the guitar. However, you find yourself ditching the actual lyrics and singing something new. "I'm falling, I'm falling so in love with how you are to me. For you I would give anything, try to be a better person."

The words took you by surprise as you think of Shawn. You take a pause, falling into a rabbit hole of emotions and thoughts.

First and foremost, you're in love with Shawn. How could you not be? He's been nothing but kind and supportive of you. He's helped you through multiple breakdowns and he's given you purpose again. Sure, you've always had purpose even before he came along, but he helped you realize thats you're so much more than Tony Stark's daughter or a friend of the Avengers. So much more than just Shawn's friend. It doesn't matter if everyone is blinded by Chrissy's temporary shine, because you're so much more than that and you have things to say. Shawn encourages that. You don't need people who easily push you away and forget about you when someone new comes along.

"Now that I have the world in front of me," you sing excitedly. "I'm never turning back. How could I ever let this go?"

You pick the guitar back up and press record again, repeating the line and letting all your thoughts out.

"So many times I fall, I'm falling, I fall apart," you sing. "I'm so concerned with pity things, it drags me farther down. Why do we run from things we're scared of? I see it now it's all so clear. No, there's no turning back from here. Now that we have the world in front of us, we're never turning back. How could we ever not believe?"

It all seems rather silly, but you grow more excited with every word. You lose track of every word you've sung, but good thing you recorded it. Finally, after a minute, you end it, settling on going back to a loving tone,

"How could I ever let this go? I love the thought, what this all could mean. You're the only good thing left in me. Now that I have the world in front of me, I'm never turning back. How could I ever let this go?"

With that you call it a day.

Three months later, Shawn comes back, way too excited to see you. He arrives at the tower, meeting you in the common room where everyone, Chrissy included, is hanging out. He steps out of the elevator, quick to pull you into his arms and press his lips to yours in a sweet yet passionate kiss. When the two of you pull away, you grab his hand, pulling him towards the hall without acknowledging anyone.

Back in your room, you show Shawn your semi completed album. He listens to it, a large smile placed on his lips.

"So?"

He pauses as he pulls you into his arms. "It's amazing, just like you."

You smile, pulling him in for a kiss. He smiles into the kiss, pulling away to mumble a simple question. "Be my girlfriend?"

An excited squeal escapes your lips as you eagerly nod. Loving every second of this moment. You're excited. For your future, in music and with Shawn. Hopefully, a reconciliation will be in your future as Well, but for now, you're okay with where you are and you believe everything will fall firmly into place.

Send in feedback, requests, or asks, plz and thank you!!

#Avengers x stark! reader #stark! reader #stark! daughter #Avengers imagine #shawn Mendes #shawn Mendes x stark! reader #shawn Mendes x stark! daughter #shawn mendes x reader #Tony stark #Mand imagine

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vickyskpopkingdom · 3 years

Text

NCT U - BOSS

this was inspired by NCT U’s MV for Boss. i have too much love for nct and the boss-unit in particular and have always wanted to write something about. it wasn’t planned but maybe i’ll do a part two to this.

until then enjoy this :)

1.3k words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I can't believe you actually told your men to dye their hair to these rediculous colors!" Taeyong could hear Doyoungs voice more clear with every step he took towards their hangout.

The abandoned bus-graveyard was exactly what the gangs of N.City needed to meet up with their own. Taeyongs gang wasn't the only hanging out here on the daily. But he had claimed a few of the better looking buses for him and his men. And currently he was on the way to meet them.

"I think it looks really cool actually.", Jaehyun responded as Taeyong stepped into the bus. "Besides Taeyong approved of the idea."

As always Jaehyun had been the first to notice Taeyong's presence. Somehow he was able to sense his boss everywhere and everytime.

Doyoung shifted his attention to Taeyong as well, who sat himself down next to Jaehyun. They had modified the inside of the bus to fit their liking. Only a few seats were left; in their place were now small tables, lockers and some of their equipment: bats, spray cans, face masks, and, and, and.

"You allowed him to do that?", Doyoung confronted their leader.

"Yeah, sounded funny to me.", Taeyong answered. "But honestly I don't care either way about their god damn haircolor as long as they get the job done."

Dyoung let out an annoyed sigh. He has always been the voice of reason in their group. Most of the time at least.

"Taeyong changes his own haircolor every other week so it shouldn't be that surprising to you.", Winwin entered the conversation.

Taeyong turned to look at the blond man. "We're all here then."

The other three men looked at him expectantly. When Taeyong required them all to meet at the same time he usually had a very good reason to do so. And they hadn't pulled off anything big in recent times.

"What do you know about those new boys?", he asked his friends.

He did not have to say any names. Everyone knew who he meant by the 'new boys'. There has been rarely any other talk between the resting corpses of the busses during the last few days since those rookies had showed up and claimed their spot as one of the most respected gangs in N.City. Rightfully so, no one was arguing that, but their sudden appearence made the people talk, asking questions, wanting to know more.

Taeyong, as the most respected leader and with the most successful gang under his wing, being no exception.

Doyoung sighed again. "It is not easy to find something about them. Whatever they did before, they made sure to hide it well."

"Precisely the problem, Doyoung.", Taeyong answered, "You can't just pull off spray painting the entire police station and delete their records of our doings in the same process without some kind of..." He threw his hands in the air, signaling his frustation and lack of words. "... training."

Jaehyung crossed his legs on the table and leaned back. "And their leader is so young as well."

"Mark is only two years younger than you and Winwin", Doyoung informed him.

"Well that makes him three or fours years younger than you and TY respectively."

"Lucas is the same age.", Winwin added, "And the third one, Jungwoo is only one year younger than us."

Taeyong got up and started pacing through the bus, front to back, back to front. A habit of his, whenever he was thinking about something but not being able to come to a conclusion.

"They make no sense. They may be dangerous."

"They are kids, Taeyong!", Doyoung intervened, before his boss could say more, "I am pretty sure they are not part of the police or whatever you are making up in that head of yours right now."

"And they are charming", Jaehyun said, looking out of the window. Most of the windows were covered in black paint but some were left as they had been before they moved in.

Everyone followed his eyes. Outside they could see Mark, Lucas and Jungwoo chatting with one of the lone wolfs of the graveyard. Not everyone here was a fixed member of one of the gangs, some people had affiliations with them however and hung around until they were needed by someone.

Taeyong recognized the man that was laughing at something Mark had said. "Looks like they want to recruit Sungchan."

"He is talented", Jaahyun chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"You said he would not join us even if we asked him but it looks like he will accept their offer."

Taeyong let himself fall back onto the seat again. He leaned his head back and let out an annoyed growl. "I want them out."

"They are children!", Doyoung hissed again.

"They are not. But I wasn't talking about fucking killing them, Doyoung. I just want them out of here." Taeyong circled his hand, signaling that he had meant the area around them. "They will get stronger soon and they will be dangerous to our position. I can't have that."

"That would be unfortunate.", Jaehyun said, still looking at the boys outside.

Taeyong turned his head to look at Winwin. His eyes had been piercing into his head for a few seconds already. Winwin had a stare that could be sensed across the whole graveyard, without looking at him even once. "What is it, Win?"

"I don't think you can draw them out. They seem pretty comfortable and, which is way more important, the other gangs respect them. And apparently the wolfs too." He nodded into the direction they had all looked at earlier. "It could potentially decrease our rank if we did something to damage them."

Taeyong clicked his tounge. Doyoung may be the voice of reason but Winwin was the one who was always observing, analyzing. And Taeyong knew to trust both of them.

And --as much as he hated it- both of them were right. Even though he was the leader of a well respected and yet-to-be-caught gang TY knew better than to go after someone four years younger than him; he had some morals after all.

He let out a quiet laugh. "That little shit Mark is smart. Fuck, coming here after having pulled of that stunt at the police station. Of course no one would question their talent and would accept them."

"Lucas is not to be messed with either.", Jaehyun added, "I have seen him fight the other day. That man can throw a punch that made my hand hurt from only looking." He turned his head away from the coversation outside and looked at Taeyong. "And Jungwoo seems to be talented with everything technical, from what I have heard."

Silence filled their bus as everyone thought about the boys. Laughter could be heard from outside.

Doyoung cleared his throat, looking at Taeyong.

"Please, Doyoung, do not make me ask what you have to say. Just spit it out."

"You could ask them to join us."

Jaehyun looked at Doyoung as if he had just suggested to blow themselves up, Taeyong was frowning heavily while Winwin was watching him for his reaction.

"And why exactly would I do that?"

"You have said it yourselves just now, have you not? They are smart and strong, they are respected, they are young. You were looking for new additions to the team anyways. And they would fit in with us."

"Would they?", Jaehyun asked. He could not help himself but to look outside again. The three men were still standing there, Sungchan had left, however they were now eyeing the very bus Taeyong and his men were currently occupying.

When the three saw that Jaehyung was looking at them, Mark stared right back at him but Lucas waved.

Unwillingly Jaehyun had to snort: "Maybe they would fit us."

All the eyes in the bus turned to Taeyong again. After all he was their leader, he was the one to decide what they would do. His opinion was well respected, no one would dare to act against him.

"Let's invite them then. I want to talk with Mark, let's see what he has to say about this idea.", he finally said.

Doyoung visibly relaxed, Jaehyun waved back at Lucas while Winwin was already on his way outside to bring the new boys in.

Taeyong smirked. "This will surely be interesting."

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glossymusings · 4 years

Text

(this is a letter I wrote to my boyfriend for his quarantine Birthday)

Hello Popu :)

Lets start this with a smile pleaseee🙈😌

(i clearly didnt know how to start😂)

So Heyyyy Babyy❤️ and *A VERY VERY VERY HAPPPYYYY BIRTHHDAAYYYYYY*!!!!!!!!!

🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂

I write this to let you know that you are the most worthiest thing happened in my life so this letter/whatever is *just an effort* to outline my feelings for you.💘💘

AND This will be the first letter I've ever written to you- or anybody in that case🥺

Well anyways, let me tell you that the tone of this letter may change(more like I know it will change) so that’s just a little warning for you.

This might jump around quite a bit and if you hadn’t noticed…there will be many parentheses because of either my inside thoughts😛, apologizing for putting my thought or something else.

And there will be parts where it won’t even make sense, remember I am stupid and also I am writing this late at night/morning.

But I want you to know that I am going to work hard on this letter and hopefully make it special and not retarded sounding. I will also try to make you laugh with some humor but I know I probably will fail,

but you can laugh at how bad my writing is! Okay?

Also i'll try not to overuse those 3 words (i love you) and scare you off.

AND this has nothing to do with your 20(age)..but i think i don't think i say this enough isliye aaj bol rahi hu and i'll try my best to not make this super duper cheesy and long

the things written below purely come from my pathar dil so much in love with you and also the reason why I am making this is because

it is your birthday and I wanted to give you something at least semi-romantic and

hopefully you will think this is special and you’re going to keep it with you(rakh warna maarungi).

So this is the part where i actually start the letter..i really reallllyyyy hope you like it :)

I really wanted to make an illustration/vector art for your birthday(of you ofc) and i even started working on it but mai save karna bhool gayi.. then i got lazy and didnt make it. (sachi mai save karna bhool gayi 😭🤦🏻‍♀️)

Then mujhe idea toh tha pehle se letter/bday message (but tbh I really wanted that letter/bday message to be better than samiksha's(not jealous)) isliye I didn't start(early).

But phir jaise jaise tera bday paas aa raha tha mere paas aur koi idea nai tha(sorryyy 🥺)

(nothing is more romantic than a letter haina?💋)

toh here it is.(Apna first love letter💋💋🐨)

(all the emojis look weird on whatsapp🤷🏻‍♀️)

I am trying not to go back to the memories of 2018 when we met( kyuki sirf 2 saal hua hai utna toh yaad rakh🙃) but tujhe bhi pata hai we have come a longgg way and apna journey aur bohot hai I hope :)

Thank you for coming into my life, seriously you have changed me for better(or for worse who knows ;) ) YOU are someone, someone that captured my gaze, my thoughts, my mind, maybe even my heart and i fell for you. 👩🏻‍🦽

You made me feel so many feelings i have never experienced before ;) (thats winky face) and dealt with them in ways i can say i'm either proud or not so proud of.😗👉🏻✌🏻👀

You are literally the best.

My Best Friend(I'm your best friend haina?)

One of my biggest supporter(or not)

One of my biggest Inspirations❤️

One of my biggest Blessing🙏🏻🧐

One of my biggest Strength💪🏻

And My Comfort👩‍❤️‍👨

…. my favourite <3.

And seriously you make me happy in a way no one else can🥵

And Popu my biggest wish is that someday we finally meet again and have the greatest time together.😇❤️🙈

I want to have you by my side so badly<3 But mostly I just want you to be happy and keep on going, because you are one of the greatest persons I know. 😌

And i wish you all the best in life and everything you do with your life. I hope that you are happy and although there may be times i really do may fucking hate you, know that i dont.👀❎

Its always easier to hate the person you love when times get tough.(Well it is for me!)

I hate to face the fact that we won’t be able to be with each other that often in the coming months/year. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I knew this was going to be hard(er) but it didn’t hit me on how close this will actually be.

I have enjoyed every moment we have spent together, even though we haven’t really been doing anything too exciting, this has still been the best I have ever

had because of you.

😁✨

I couldn’t want anything else. I don’t like the fact that I won’t be able to spend my lunches with you or even having to wait for buses on bus stop

or sitting on the back seat of buses and holding hands, and watch movies with you :'( ,or quietly sneaking to terrace or staircase (for a few months.)

No matter what past me has said or future me will say... i just want you to know you will forever own every piece of my heart :').

There’s no possible way I can tell you how much I really do love you. I am so happy you gave “us” a chance,

all I can say is thank you and I love you. I hope you enjoy this relationship as much as I do. ❤️

Ever since I’ve known you, you never left my mind, from that first lecture in D5 until now,

you have made a huge impression and the thought you will always be on my mind and in my heart. I love you so much and I cannot wait

for us to grow together and share so many more years of affection and unforgettable memories, cause let’s face it,

with you everything is going to be an adventure. You are not only my boyfriend but also my best friend.

I hope this year brings you loads of love, health, luck, unforgettable moments, laughter and magical emotions. ❤️

......AND I ALSO MISS YOU, A LOT.

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

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lyb-s · 4 years

Text

solar night cities // l.f.l

♡ f l u f f ♡ // tw : swearing

nothing relieved you more than felix’s presence. every ounce of worry you had in your body all flushed out of you when you were in his hold, when your eyes were on each other’s. and as much as it was natural for you to be close to him whenever you were in the same space together, it was especially relevant when one of you isn’t at your best. your lover basically became your medicine.

you texted him today as soon as you reached home after a long day of school, pretty much just wanting to distract yourself since you got shit grades for a test you didn’t study for. and you felt more than surprised when he texted you that he was on his way to your house to take you somewhere.

felix only flex : aw ;((

lix enthusiast : ye everything sucks smh

felix only flex : you free tonight?

lix enthusiast : i thank god that my lecturer didn’t give us any homework so yes i’m free, why?

felix only flex : hey, i’ll come there in about thirty minutes. what about we go somewhere, yeah? :]]

lix enthusiast : suresure

your heart skipped a beat and you put your phone down with a big smile spreading across you unknowingly, your fingertips fizzing with amore as you changed out of your home clothing. the effects he had on you were truly, truly unbelievable. once you got done briefly getting ready to go out, you sat on the kitchen nook while the rosy view of the neighboring townhouses billowed around the white windows.

felix only flex : oh and don’t wear a jacket

lix enthusiast : why not? it’s 20 degrees out

felix only flex : just do it pleaseee

lix enthusiast : ok ok chill

felix only flex : yeyey

knowing you, you’re easy to give in. and a small giggle escaped the lips he once kissed when he called you his. you stared out the windows until you heard your doorbell ring, making you spring up from your comfortable seat and rush to the door where your ball of comfort stood. you opened the door to greet your not-so-long awaited boyfriend who had the natural smile of an angel.

“hey ho, sunshine!—” there was that nickname you once hated at first but found out you loved, making you gravitate yourself to him more.

“lix!! huhuuu~” you immediately attack-hugged him, engulfing yourself into his body as he lets out a surprised grunt which replaced itself with his relieving laugh. “i failed my physics test grrr” you fussed while nudging your head into his familiar chest and fake sobbing. he mimicked you and you both fake cried together, making both of you laugh.

“so that’s what you were all angsty about?” he chuckled as you nodded. once you let go of him, you were both ready to go but felix gave you something before both of you stepped out of your front door.

“oh? why are you lending me this?” you asked as he gave you his chunky pink sweater, knitted out of the warmest fabric you’ve ever touched.

“you don’t want it?” he teased.

“....no.” you answered quietly which made him laugh again as you layered it over your shirt. he started holding your wrist as he lead you out of the building and into his car, and of course with his general niceness he opened the car door for you even when you insisted. “so where are we heading?”

“you’ll seeee just trust me. i’m actually glad i found this spot and i wanted to share it with only you.” the smirk he had on his face showed that he knew you were going to love it. it was only once he pulled out of the parking lot was when you saw that the sky had changed, taking over with a pretty muted sky blue, the last tints of pink were hiding behind the scape of the mountains.

he didn’t let go of your wrist even on the way there. he was gazing out the window, his left hand taking care of the wheel. your stares on him were helpless, noticing his hair was blonde and wispy. you can feel your fingertips carding into them just by looking at it.

you finally reached the destination, and of course.

he opened the door for you again.

“you know i can open the door myself, right?” you giggled as he proceeded to open it anyway. he’d do simple gallant actions and as much as you loved it, it only reminded you of how much you didn’t deserve this heaven-sent.

he took your hand as you slid out of your seat. “just let me treat you like the lady you are~” he sang raspily, placing a soft kiss to your hand before he let go and proceeded to open his car trunk.

you flounced to where he was, your eyes widening at the plastic bags of food. naturally you helped him with it and he started taking a picnic blanket and a few pillows with him. you followed him with skippy steps as he lead you up to the rooftop of the building he parked in, and you could, possibly, might as well have just melted then and there as you stood on the floor of the rooftop.

the skylines were rosy and blue, your breath taking itself away in awe at how scenic the sky had bloomed. and little glints of light were everywhere, from buildings to city lamps and random cars and buses traveling to who knows where. the greenery—or in this case, pinkery, allured your vision since there were cherry blossoms gracing the sidewalks messily in a way where it seemed perfect.

“oh wow, what’s all of this for?” you giggled as you gently placed the bags down. once he finished placing everything exactly where he wanted to be, he placed his hands on his hips proudly with a pleased grin. he walked over to you, sliding his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him.

“i know you’ve been stressing a lot so i really wanted to treat you or help you out. making you happy was the first thing that came to my head when you told me you were down, and i wasted no time getting the things you like.” he smiled down at you, and for once you felt the most comfortable and loved your entire life. everything started running from your head, heart and soul. a bunch of butterflies, swarming the pit of your stomach. your gaze on him was enough for him to read that you were grateful, and all he did was widen his smile more as you shared each other’s glance.

“i really don’t deserve someone like you.” you muttered and he shook his head. he started cupping your cheeks within his palms, spreading the warmth through the blush you’ve had on since he had his arms around you.

“no <3″ he was the one who laughed first at his response, of course. “now shall we sit down, sunshine?” he perched on the cozy hamper, patting the space next to him which made you follow his actions. your eyes couldn’t take itself off the view below you, and your skin couldn’t resist the chilly gentle wind that surged through the air. everything you’ve ever wanted, all right in front of you. and you would do anything to reciprocate the effort.

he took an iced coffee from one of the bags and gave it to you. “i always told you not to drink iced coffee at this hour because it was bad for you but i know you would crave one whenever you felt off.”

“lix :((” you felt so touched, even if it was just a beverage. “you didn’t need to spend so much on me, your presence would’ve been fine.”

“stop worrying so much about it, sunshine.” there was that damn pet name again. “let me treat you how you deserve to be treated. please?”

and of course you gave in, sighing as you took a sip of your drink. “wahh i haven’t had these in a long time. how’d you know i liked them?”

“a better question is, why wouldn’t i know?” he responds, biting on a donut.

you probably spent an hour talking about everything and nothing with him. you were babbling back and forth about the things you missed and the things you didn’t, whether we came from stars or not. asking about what the future held for us as if we knew about it all, embarrassingly storying our first loves and complicated relationships. and each and every word that escaped his lips, all you could do was stare at him in devotion as he talked about his first love while peering at the solar night city.

“i was pretty young back then so i don’t—” he looked back with his head leaned slightly down at you, quickly realizing you were gaping at him this whole time with those eyes that he adored so much. he laughed silently in amusement as you were still laying your stare on him. he took his sugarcoated hand and softly trailing down your chin to make you look up at him more.

“done checking me out?” he teased, making you slap his arm playfully. “ahck—! i was just kiddingg, c’mere.” he put his latte down and slid his arm around your waist while the other was on his thigh, something he did whenever he wanted you on his lap. which of course you unhesitantly complied.

you connected gazes again, finding the stars in each others eyes even if it was just right above both of you. love was flickering in his pupils, which expanded. you gasped and he got surprised, making him chuckle.

“why, sunshine?”

“my psychology teacher gave me a lot of trivias before. one of them was that if you stared into your lover’s eyes, their pupils will dilate.”

“really?!” his tone was shocked, this newfound information blowing him away which made you giggle. you nodded at him. he stared into you once again, this time closer to you to really examine your orbs.

“are they dilating?” you asked him, and his eyes squinted which made you laugh.

he shrugged. “ i think so, i don’t know if i can see. but i don’t need to see your pupils dilate in order to know that you love me.” his relaxed smile painted over his expressions again, his hands now on your waist and caressing the curves soothingly.

you looked away, playing a song on your phone and then staring right back at him again.

luv note - chloe moriondo

┊ ⇄ ◁◁ II ▷▷ ↻ ┊

₀․₀₀◦────────────────◦ ₃․₁₅

“and if a pair of teenagers in love stare into each other’s eyes for three minutes, their heartbeats will synchronize.”

“wait really?!” he blurted, the glint in his eyes returning which made you feel all sorts of happy particles. “how does all of this work?”

you nod. “well....i actually don’t know. but hey, let’s put it to the test.” and you never once broke eye contact.

“and did you know that if you hold the hands of someone who’s dear to you, it can release natural painkillers?..” your hands slid from his neck and onto his hands which were stroking your waist. he immediately and comfortably locked your hands in his first before you could do it yourself, another seraphic smile kindled his lips as he tilted his head.

he sang to the song lyrics tenderly yet quietly, gazing at you with patience and amusement. he never got tired of you, and it showed. like stars. the ones above you and the ones on his cheeks. “so maybe you could let me hold your hand real tight, and tell you why the sea reminds me of youuu~”

somehow the butterflies from earlier started reviving and swirling around the loops of your heart again, a ginger yet contended grin cracking itself into your smile, which felix laughed to.

“you are so,...so, lovely.” he mumbled sincerely, and you could promise to yourself that a bunch of orchids blossomed in your stomach.

the song was near its end, so you took his hand and put it against the pulse on your neck, and took his other hand to put it against his own thrums.

“do you feel it? is it in sync?” you asked him, and you swore you could kiss him right there when you saw the euphoria in his eyes when he realized that they were, in fact, harmonizing with each other. his eyes glossed, his smile brightened. something you wish would never fade.

you yelped in shock when he suddenly dropped his arms and wrapped them around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he bursts in giggles and happy sweet nothings.

he whispered into your ear, the flutters in your gut getting stronger. “whenever you're in pain, i'll be there to hold your hand. and while you're anxious and checking your pulse, i'll be there in a heartbeat.” you could feel the rays of his beam. he pulled away, locking eyes with you again as he leaned in closer “and all you have to do is look at me.” he murmured against your lips before latching onto them; innocent giggles and cheeky grins sprouting throughout the sincerely playful kiss as he held you close.

#felix #imfrickingsoftdonttouchme #AAAAAAAA

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