#Assigned Bat By Tardi

[mytardisisparked]

Ooo bat week!! May I have a bat? 🦇

Happy Bat Week!

Your bat is the Long-Tongued Nectar Bat (Macroglossus minimus)!

This bat, as the name suggests, feeds on nectar and fruit. Its long tongue allows it to lap nectar out of flowers when it decides to get lost in that sauce. Otherwise, it feeds on a variety of smaller fruits (which makes sense, considering it is the smallest member of the family Pteropodidae). They tend to be somewhat solitary outside of mating season, which is twice a year.

[soft-for-them]

Acid stained tables and a cute man in a green coat- Edward Nashton x plus size reader

Summary: You're just a history teacher standing in because one of the science teachers is absent, you weren't ready for there to be a substitute teacher, let alone a cute one. (Substitute teacher AU).

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/N: Edward as a forensic accountant, meh, that's a bit boring. Him as a substitute science teacher on the over hand fits the crazy man much better.

The day is drab and dreary like always, the sky still dark grey from the night before when the rain fell hard and the poor sod who tried to rob a jewellery store near your flat and got caught by the Gotham Bat.

Really such things like that are normal in Gotham city that and the banging of bodies and crashing of car bumpers, really the city sounds don’t bother you any more.

Anyway, you were already awake marking essay papers, so you got to witness the cops fall into the rubbish bins trying to catch the jewellery thieves only for the Batman do their jobs. Looking back at it the incident was pretty entertaining.

Multiple of your neighbours, both in the same block of flats and in the opposite cluster of houses had been leaning out their windows watching the Batman tie up the perps whilst the coppers brushed rubbish and slimy goop off their blue uniforms.

It had only gotten unbearably loud when more cops pulled up with their flashing lights and loud sirens to back up the rest of their goons, the back up trying to arrest the Batman.

Only then did you give up marking your student’s essays on the Native Americans and the white colonists who took over their land along with the younger student's homework sheets on the American presidents when the man dresses in all black punched an officer and seemly flew away like a literal bat. 

Mondays always seem to be drab and dreary, the lack sleep not helping you at all.

Even with the bright yet tired heads of your students flooding into the small down town middle school with stories of their weekend adventures along with tins filled with cut birthday cake to share with their friends paired with dramatic re-tellings of whatever else the Batman had done that weekend, you still feel drained.

The bell has already gone, the loud piercing ring making you groan in annoyance.

Some children still stuff their backpacks with text books and hidden snacks, the ringing from the bell still in your ears. Many teachers look out their classroom doors waiting for any stragglers; a thing you’re doing right this moment.

Class three is one of the classrooms on the main hallway of the school a couple doors down from the large set of double doors that lead to the grey playground and the chain linked fence entrance outside. There are many lines of red lockers small and tall your eagle eyes watching out for any trouble that might arise whether that be from the odd late student rushing to get to their class or a faculty member you dislike.

Most teachers on a Monday morning are pretty lenient when it comes to tardiness so you don’t mind a couple of students being a few minutes late however you aren’t actually looking out for a student.

All the students in class three, the students of the sixth grade science class, are seated and registered, they aren’t that bothered that History teacher like yourself is teaching their early morning science class.

Many of the kids are turned around in their seats chatting to one another as you lean on chipped white door frame of the small classroom, your cream blouse tucked in to your long green pencil skirt, the stripy tights a tad bit gimmicky but they keep your legs warm. Your outfit doesn’t match with the acid stained wooden desks with names and smiley faces carved into them or the periodic table posters hung up on the dull blue walls too angular and shiny to match your more colourful history class room decorated with student’s assignments and informative posters with cartoons on them.

Your eyes flicker from the double doors at the front, then to the big cadged clock hanging over said double doors, then back to the doors that still stay firmly shut.

It’s been five minutes already and the hallway is already quiet and deserted, only litter left on the scratched old floors.

Thankfully you don’t have your own class until after lunch but you’re still worried for the lack of science teacher in the class room – you have no clue about sixth grade chemistry let alone where the right text books are stored but being that the school is underfunded and understaffed you might have to stay put in the gas smelling classroom just to keep an eye on the children so they don’t burn the place down with the Bunsen burners and little wooden sticks that are used to light them.

Maybe you’ll put some YouTube on if worse comes to worse.

“Whoever is turning the gas taps on knock it off.”

You don’t even turn around to see the culprit but right away a hush of mutters come from the back of the room followed by the scrambling sounds of the finicky plastic gas taps being switched off.

For a moment you turn around as the student’s still whisper shout at one another.

“It wasn’t me Miss (L/n)!” a mop of red hair you don’t know the name of splutters out. Who you’re assuming is his friend clamping her hand over his mouth before he can rat out the culprit.

The sound of the big double doors to the front of the school sound open which makes you hurry back to your perch at the doorway.

You look down the hall with hope that it’s the old crone of a woman who normally teaches in class three but it is just a hurried parent with their children.

Turning back into the room you close the door.

“Ok, who wants to watch some YouTube?”

The classroom erupts with hyper screams as you slide down into a big worn out spiny chair at the teacher’s desk besides the interactive whiteboard.

You’ve spend the whole morning showing random ‘educational’ videos to middles schoolers and letting them doddle on the whiteboards littered around the room. No fires have been started and the closet filled with acids and alkalis has yet to be opened.

Now its lunch time and you’re worrying. Another science class in classroom three starts after lunch but that clashes with you first history class of the day. You had brought it up to multiple staff members but they had just grumbled at you useless words, one had pointed out that it would be a miracle to get a substitute teacher so far into the day and one other patted you on the back saying ‘good luck’ for the coming classes.

It would have been easy if you classroom was opposite or next to class three but your small history class is hidden away on the other side of the school in between an RE classroom and a storage room.

Currently you sit in the same tall backed spiny chair in class three, the door firmly shut, your boxed lunch of left over take away and a bottle of water left to collect dust.

Your mind is a blaze with ideas of how to sort this out. One idea is to split up the next science class and place the small groups of the children in different science lessons with work sheets and textbooks. Another idea is to gather your small class and cram them into class three and try to teach two subjects at once. None of them seem good enough ideas to work.

“Ahhh!” you groan as you hit you head on the scuffed wooden desk.

You arms squidge to your round face as you fold your hands under your forehead creating a bony pillow for your head, your eyes focus on the swirling wood grain of the desk. You own desk isn’t real wood like this one, it’s laminated and peeling off, the low down desk always kneading into your stomach for it is bolted down too close to the pale walls of your room.

“…Hello?”

Fuck! You leap up from you position, the chair spinning out of hand as you turn to see a man standing at the doorway in a long green parka coat his large transparent framed glasses slightly fogging up.

“Hello.” you instinctively rub your forehead hoping there isn’t an indent or a bump forming, “Do you need anything?”

The man, who in your hazy vision, reminds you of a hamster. His blonde hair, dusty and mousey is fluffed up and slightly damp from the lingering rain, his face round with a little notch in his chin.

He stands awkwardly with his over the shoulder bag in his hands, his eye trailing up and down the curves of your body.

My god this isn’t Mrs Smith the normal science teacher of class three but whoever this cute man is you hope he stays around a bit.

“I was told to come here, I’m the sub.” he says with his eyes lingering on the exposed flesh where the collar of your blouse is too loose and your neck is unprotected.

“I was told they couldn’t get one this late in the school day.”

“I was free.”

Well he was manically planning the death of the mayor but he isn’t going to say that in front of you, the prettiest woman he’s seen in a while.

“Ok. Well, that a relief. I have my own class in like ten minutes.” you stand and gather your bag and marked papers, only bothering to pack you lunch away into your bag, “I should be going Mr-?”

“Nashton, Edward I mean.”

“Miss (L/n), history.”

Your body briefly touches his as you walk out the door down the hallway back to your classroom. You look back at Edward, he’s looking back at you.

“If you need me I’ll be in room twenty four.”

A smile rises on his face, one that makes you smile like a middle schooler with a crush.

[emeren]

bloodlust ☤ 1

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“The devil and I get along just fine...”

Pairing: Fem!reader x Vampire!Eren 

Word Count: 5.1 k 

Chapter Warnings: Blood, anxiety

Chapter Summary: Reader, a nurse, finds themselves facing a fanged beast, unsure what to make of the world. But this devil with dark hair may not have the intentions you think. 

☤ this work of fiction deals with vampires. in turn, there will be discussions of blood and minimal gore. it will also include nsfw content in the near future. all chapters will be marked appropriately☤

Moonlight soaked the path towards his freedom. It danced and reflected off of the dew coated blades of grass. Each one emulated a life he planned to save, with the destruction of his  people and the protection of the person he cared for most in the world. She had yet to materialize into something more than the soft breeze of a memory.

He was hungry; the tortuous cry of his instinct to ravage told him so. However, years of training and restraint had yielded him more than capable of swallowing his own desire. The one thing he sought most weighed heavier than impotent monstrous actions. For his goal, he could resist the craving to release his sharpened fangs.

He allowed his eyes one last glance over the house he’d called home for the past four years; dark and gloomy against the stormy night sky. Soon, those who’d chained him in shackles and dragged him to the cellar would be amiss in panic. Wrought iron bars that once caged his devilish soul would be found empty. A beast was on the run.

He felt brief sorrow for those he would hurt in the process of securing their freedom from a pained existence. But he’d made up his mind. All that was left to do was to head north.

His nimble hands pulled the dark hood of his coat above his head. He took one deep breath, the entrancing smell of rain and dirt wafting through the air.

North, to the person that occupied his past, present, and future. To freedom.

☤    ☤    ☤

You considered yourself well suited to the role you’d decided to serve for the rest of your life. Time spent meticulously memorizing health patterns and disease characteristics had broadened your sense of confidence. Doubt rarely ever plagued your mind past the childish decision of what to eat for breakfast in the morning.

Nursing had not always been your final destination in life; the unprecedented scared you enough to mark healthcare as a profession to avoid. Losing two parents unexpectedly in high school due to a mysterious illness had been enough to change your once convinced mind.

Your rain jacket was slick with the slight precipitation clouding the late night sky as you entered the hospital locker room -- a weak cup of coffee in hand, marred with a ring of chapstick residue against the lip. Night shifts were often greeted with unrelenting misery on your behalf.

“You look excited to be here,” The familiar tone of your coworker hummed from behind you. There seemed no force strong enough to concur surprise in your unrested eyes. Historia was someone who lacked a certain fear factor in most aspects of her being, anyways.

“I didn’t see you when I came in, Historia,” You answered, eyes glancing over your shoulder to take in the blonde-haired nurse. Despite having walked in the rain the same as you, her demeanor was much more spritely.

She gave you a smile, following you towards your adjacent lockers. “Ah, I came in the back entrance today.”

“You’re awfully chipper for someone who’s working the night shift,” Your half-assed attempt at being friendly mingled with the clammer of your locker. Historia chuckled softly from behind her door.

“I prefer the night shift, actually. Isn’t this your third night on?” She asked. You slipped your wet jacket from your shoulders, shaking it slightly before hanging it in the metal box.

“Yeah, it is. Can’t say I enjoy it as much as you do,” You lightly closed the door, Historia doing the same. Overt kindness wasn’t a trait you claimed when burnt out on work; she knew this and gave you no foul for it.

Her blue eyes crinkled in the ghost of a smile. “Not a creature of the night, hm?”

“I’m no vampire, that’s for sure,” You chuckled. Historia’s smile faltered slightly. It came as no surprise that she was afraid of monsters and ghouls. You decided to change the subject in her favor. “Speaking of, I hear it’s a full moon tonight.”

“Oh?” Her eyes widened, coy smirk wiggling its way back onto her blushed cheeks. Despite your adverse to the unknown, you enjoyed indulging in childish hospital rumors. The notion that weird cases spiked on nights when the moon was full in the sky was a tale as old as time; strange people flooded the hospitals, with even stranger injuries and illnesses. Or so that was what people said, not that you’d ever experienced it yourself. “I wonder if anything crazy will happen tonight.”

“Doubt it,” You stepped aside, allowing her to match your stride as the two of you headed towards the conference room for a briefing before the shift. She hummed in agreement, the rest of the walk done in a comfortable silence.

The room for debriefing was a mundane conference set up. The walls were a bleached white; anatomy posters and warnings about the harmful nature of cigarettes decorating the walls. An oval desk surrounded by blue, plastic chairs took up most of the room. It smelled like microwaved Kraft, courtesy of a nurse scarfing down a last helping before their shift started.

“That’s odd,” Historia frowned, blue eyes tracing the room. Staff sat around in quiet huddles, most silently waiting for the briefing to start. She glanced down at her watch before nudging you in the arm. “Where’s Doctor Smith? We start in two minutes.”

The tall, burly man was never late for a briefing; his stoic nature didn’t allow room for such a lack. He had never given you a reason to doubt his trust, but something about his demeanor made you uneasy. He commanded a room with such conviction that your coworkers fell to his feet with unadulterated respect; you, a mindless sheep following their lead. Rational thought would’ve placed your discomfort on his position of power and his role as your boss. Simply put, however, he gave you the creeps.

The plastic chair skidded against the polished floor as you took your seat at the table beside Historia. The older staff coughed and occasionally grumbled, filling the tired silence with a sense of annoyance. Your blonde coworker sensed your gripe, elbowing you in the ribs and leaving a crease in your lilac scrubs. You suppressed a smile.

“Pardon me,” Doctor Smith’s commanding voice echoed through the room before he stepped in the doorway. Your muscles tensed; back straightening as if to give the illusion that you hadn’t been hunched over, looking exhausted and miserable. His blond hair was perfectly sculpted; not a strand out of place and not a wrinkle in his blue dress shirt. His lab coat was almost a sickeningly bleached titanium. “Sorry for my tardiness; I was dealing with an emergency back home.”

Historia shifted beside you.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” He gave a terse smile before picking his clipboard off of the table and flipping through the papers. “Looks like we’ve got the regular scheduling for this evening. As usual, the night shift staffing is lighter than our other shifts, so remember to be vigilant and take action without being told to.”

You tended to tune out the mundane precautions and warnings that were part of a pre-shift briefing. Outside the window, rain pattered against the glass pane. The shower provided a sense of comfort; rain often preceded a night spent inside, wrapped in blankets with a mug of hot tea. Though your current schedule didn’t allow room for such indulgence, you took a small delight in the weather condition.

Historia bumped your knee with her own under the table. You glanced at your friend, slightly alarmed from your daze. She leaned over, attempting to discreetly whisper in your ear. “He looks distracted tonight, hm? Wonder what that’s about.”

Your eyes glanced at Doctor Smith, who was reading through the clipboard with a staccato like urgency. Not wanting to cause any disturbance, you nodded your head in agreement.

“We’ll follow through with our regular assignments. If you don’t know where you’re located this evening, I suggest checking the bulletin in the locker room. As for this meeting, you’re all free to go,” His blue irises scanned the faces of all the employees, searching for confusion or questions to be answered. You averted your gaze, following suit as the rest of the room erupted in moving chairs and shuffling scrubs.

You already knew where you were working for the night; the same place as the last two, over in the geriatrics wing. This night would be the same as the others, not that you were in any place to be upset about that.

“Y/N!” Historia’s voice called you to look over your shoulder, barely out of the conference room. She had a slimy smile on her face; the kind that reeked of favors and avoidance. You felt the need to control your eyebrow from rising in annoyance. “Can I ask you something?”

You exhaled from your nose. “Shoot.”

“I have a patient in room 702 that I was assigned to,” The slightest batting of her mascara slicked lashes, blue irises working their hardest to win you over. You raised your eyebrows, urging her to continue. The other staff shuffled by you, sparing nosy glances. “I was wondering if you could take it? I’ll work in the geriatrics wing tonight for you.”

You had to give it to the tiny woman; for all she was worth, she was great at getting people to do what she wanted. You valued her responsibility and reliability, and she’d proved to be a friendly presence in the workplace. However, that didn’t stop you from seeing the selfish underbelly of her prosperous actions.

“What’s the patient in for?” You humored her. Even if her request was self-fulfilling, you figured might as well use it to your own advantage. Almost anything beat another night in geriatrics changing diapers and administering pill dosages.

“A blood transfusion,” She responded, smiling softly at you. “I’m not very good with bloody things, you know. Easily squeamish.”

You pretended to ponder whether or not to take her up on her offer. It was an easy choice, really. “Yeah, sure. What blood type are they?”

☤   ☤   ☤

The stand rattled unpleasantly against the tiled ground as you stopped in front of room 702. The thick bag of blood shook slightly from the sudden stop. How Historia had ever become a nurse when grossed out with the concept of blood, you weren’t sure. It seemed that her sweet disposition often aided her in whatever situation she needed to change for the better. You were an adult woman though, so whatever her motivations might’ve been didn’t concern you.

You gave the cart a once over, making sure all the necessary tools and items were there: a needle, an IV, gauze, those sorts of things. Blood transfusions were a typically fussless procedure; tediously watching the red liquid pump itself into the body.

Your knuckles lightly knocked on the door. “Hello, I’m here to give you your blood transfusion!”

Silence, beating through the empty hallway of the hospital. The lights were dimmed and eerily abandoned. You waited for ten seconds before opening the door to the sleepy room.

The heavy door creaked open, revealing he who was to be given blood. Historia had mentioned he was a John Doe, lying unconscious on the bleached sheets. You turned back to grab your cart, not bothering to be quiet. He’d be awake soon enough, anyway.

As you wheeled it in, your back was to the patient. The cart squeaked and rattled, stopping at the foot of the bed. You turned around, ready to rouse him from his slumber.

Beautiful.

You’d had attractive patients before. Both men and women who floated by life with the easy wings of accurately placed facial features to boost them up. A pretty face often had heat rising to your cheeks, but professionalism stopped you from thinking any further. Natural biological responses couldn’t be helped, after all.

Never had a patient left your lips parting in awe, heart drumming up it’s own beat of excitement in your chest. His face was slim; sharp jawline and a large, broad nose peeking out into the air. Pale cheeks barely dusted by the pink of an almost intangible blush. His eyelashes were long and thick, jutting out against the purple hue of his impossibly dark circles. Hair the color of old driftwood swirled and bunched on his pillow. He had to have been one of the most attractive people you’d ever treated, let alone seen.

What color were his eyes? Were they a dark brown, one to match the nature of his hair color? Or were they green, contrasting his pale skin? You began to feel eager to find out, more excited to know and learn as your gloved hand gripped his broad shoulder. You frowned at the frigid temperature of his skin.

“Excuse me, sir,” You gently shook, trying not to give away the way your body was reacting. There was no place for hormonal displays in your line of work, and despite his undeniable beauty, you were determined to remain professional.

His eyelids snapped open with such a speed you had to compose yourself not to trip backwards. Contrary to what you thought, his irises were a pale, almost sickly greyish blue. They held no gleam; no life behind them. Disturbance washed over your brain, warning bells going off in your mind. He looks slightly… feral?

He jolted upwards, confusion knotted on his once peaceful face. You stumbled backwards slightly, hip clipping on the cart.

“Who are you?” His voice was gravelly, as if it hadn’t been used in quite some time. Blue eyes stared at you with such an uncertainty it made your head spin.

“I’m your nurse, I’m here to give you your blood transfusion,” You gestured towards the cart and stand, a red bag hanging from it like a token of peace. Despite his prickly reaction, you weren’t frightened.

“I feel like I’ve met you before,” He said, eyes squinted. Analyzing you, trying to pick apart your being, yet there you stood before him, a marvel to be held. He briefly glanced to the side; not more than a millisecond were his eyes off you before they were back, filled with unadulterated panic. “Where- where is Historia?”

You frowned, a little perturbed. “She asked to swap-”

“I need you to leave, now.” He growled, voice deep and authoritative. You widened your gaze, taken aback by his demanding request. The sheet fell from around his shoulders, bare chest exposed. Large hands raced to his face, hiding the features you’d once considered beautiful. “Get out of here!”

“Are you alright?” You panicked, stepping closer to the bed. His large form began shaking, knees drawing towards his chest from under the blanket. He appeared to be in pain; like a wounded animal.

“Fuck,” He yelled, breathing becoming labored. There wasn’t time to ponder. Was he having a panic attack? Was he going into shock? Questions didn’t need to be asked, you just knew that you needed to act. “I said leave!”

“No, I need to help you with whatever-” His hand shot off of his face, long, black claws sharpening from his fingers. You became fear stricken, his palm connecting with your chest. It sent you stumbling backwards, tripping over the wire to the heart monitor and slamming into the wall with your back. Tendrils of pain clamored up your spine.

“Close your eyes,” He rose from the bed, both hands dropping from his face. You couldn’t see his eyes, fist clutching your scrubs above your heart. Uncertainty. Terror, facing death like this. A monster stood before you, created by the devil himself. Tall, foreboding, chest heaving. His neck snapped upwards; wide, red eyes piercing into your thinly veiled soul. He spoke something like a garbled beast. “Promise me you’ll close your eyes.”

You didn’t respond. There were no words to be spoken. Between his pink lips glinted a pair of large, sharp incisors. “Promise!”

You reverberated with his words, wincing and shutting your eyes involuntarily. He didn’t want you to watch as he slaughtered you. “I-I promise!”

The loud clamor of metal colliding with the polished floor had you breaking your promise mere seconds after it’d been made.

He stood, illuminated by the fluorescent bulbs like an angel ascending to heaven. The bag, once an object you’d believed to be a healing beacon, clutched between clawed hands. His teeth, bare to the world, puncturing the thick plastic as though it were paper.

His adam’s apple bobbed rhythmically as he swallowed mouthfuls of thick, red blood. It was as if he’d been starved; knees buckling and desperate blood sucking so intense that his legs could no longer support his body weight. He knelt on the once clean floor.

The twine that connected your sense of reality and rationale had been pulled taut -- pieces of the frayed string snapping and threatening to drop you into depths unknown. Uncertainty had always been a foreign concept; you’d been given the option to study your circumstance and fully conceptualize it before going head first into a situation.

That’s what had intrigued you about being a nurse; though the job seemed like a bull in a china shop, you’d learned every reason why or how that bull ended up there and what exactly you needed to do to get it out.

You lacked the expertise or even the understanding to handle this particular situation. What studying could’ve been done? Reading horror stories or watching Twilight as a teenager with your friends? Even then, the probability of this happening to you felt like it should’ve been a zero percent chance.

You liked knowing what to do. Thrived on it, actually. This man, tall and dangerous, presented you with no opportunity to know. There was no textbook on how to handle a vampire, as childish as it felt to recognize that that’s what this was.

You’d been so sure. So convinced that there was no possibility of this heinous monster being an actual thing to walk the same crusted earth as you. Yet here he was, dawning the shape of a man and the face of an angel. How could someone so beautiful be so terrifying?

The hospital wall was cold against your back, the distant hammering of an organ that no longer felt placed in your chest rang true against your clenched fist. You felt the chilling call to move, to rise from your place and run. You didn’t know where, but the muscles in your thighs screamed a silent symphony.

He made quick work of the bag, like it was nothing and had never been anything in the first place. Who had donated that blood? They were probably asleep somewhere, lying in a bed and dreaming of a different world. A world where their charitable donation wasn’t being consumed by a devil before your terrified soul.

The red liquid oozed from his lips and dripped onto his barren chest. You hadn’t moved since you’d collided with the wall what felt like an eternity ago. Your ears rung rapidly with the obnoxious blood flow to your overstimulated brain.

Eyes the shade of a blue jay traced from a pair of blood soaked claws up towards your face, following the path of destruction. Though shock and fear reverberated through your every nerve, the softness in his gaze dulled a small part of your terror. He looked guilty, holding his dripping hands in front of his face like he’d just committed murder.

“You promised to close your eyes,” A voice so small, as if he’d known you your whole life and you had just witnessed a character altering situation. Something echoed in the back of his words, something that sounded like resentment. You couldn’t tell if it was directed at your prying eyes or himself.

“I- I didn’t, I mean, I tried not to but,” You were at a loss. A loss for a way to communicate how you were feeling, a loss for sanity in the world. The monster before you scowled, as if scolding a child who’d disobeyed their parent. “What are you?”

He brought his bloody hands to the floor; you noted that the claws were gone. “I figure it’s pretty obvious at this point. Can’t you tell?” He whispered.

“But vampires aren’t-” His steely gaze hardened at your choice of words. “They aren’t real, are they?”

“They are,” He responded, looking at you with such a strong emotion that you shifted uncomfortably against the wall. What was he thinking? Those eyes looked like they were fixed on someone he cared deeply for, not someone he’d met mere minutes ago. “But you weren’t supposed to know that, which is why I asked you not to open your eyes.”

“You started drinking a bag of blood right in front of me!” You whisper-yelled, brows knitting together to display your slight frustration. The wonder and fear still laid active in your chest, but something about him was familiar and comforting, despite his gruesome actions. You couldn’t explain exactly why you knew he would bring you no harm. “Of course I was going to open my eyes. If I’m not supposed to know, why would you do that right in front of me?”

His scowl deepened. “I tried to warn you. I haven’t had any blood in awhile and I lost control of myself.”

“What happens now?” Your question came out smaller than intended, unfamiliarity rising in your abdomen. The thick stench of blood was beginning to make your intestines twist in disgusting unease.

The question sought to strike a chord in the young man’s features; a grim and saddened look swept across his sharp attributes. His hand came up to pinch his temples, unperturbed by the bloody fingerprints left in its wake. “We have to get out of here, and fast. If we don’t, the people who are after me will kill you.”

“Kill me?” The word had a different sense of fear wafting over you; the kind that pricked your eyes with the sensation to shed tears. He looked pained. “I can tell them that I didn’t see anything, I can promise that I never saw you and-”

“It doesn’t work like that,” He snapped, glancing at you with irritation. His harsh tone forced your pleas to die unsaid in your throat. “The people following me aren’t rational. One of them will also be able to tell you’re lying.”

“So then, what am I supposed to do?” You cried, allowing the bottled up and suppressed emotions to spill over the thin wall of resolve that his comforting presence provided. He didn’t flinch but remained in serious tranquility. “I’m supposed to leave here and hit the road with some random man, who is a fucking vampire, and what? Hope for the best?”  

He looked away from you, blood-covered face staring at the hospital bed that he’d once occupied. “It’s my fault you’re stuck in this now. I owe you enough to protect your life as best as I can.”

You were in hysterics. What sort of ultimatum was this? Stay and die or leave and risk dying? Another predicament that couldn’t be solved with the aid of literary education. Resentment was beginning to build in your own chest. Diving into an unexplored depth of the ocean, brimming with creatures and lore that you had never predicted to be real.

“Hey,” You snapped back to reality. The man before you scooted forwards slightly. Though his face was that of a devil, soaked in another’s blood and deathly pale, his movement had your chest tightening in something other than fear. “I won’t let them hurt you. I promise, if you come with me, you’ll be safe until I can get them off our tail. Then I’ll take off and they’ll follow me, leaving you alone.”

Sticky tears trailed down your cheeks, eyes burning. When did you start crying? “How -- how can you be so sure? How can I trust you?”

He was on his hands and knees in front of you now, sharp nose half a foot away from your face. Any call to breathe was put on hold, teary eyes widening slightly at his stare. It was soft and open, trusting in the strangest way. His dark hair hung around his face.

“My goal is to rid the world of demons such as myself. That’s why they’re after me, and why they would take your life to guarantee silence. When I’m finished with what I want to accomplish, I will be dead and so will they. I have nothing to gain by hurting you. I promise to keep you alive long enough to see the end of this.”

Your lips parted in awe. The conviction in his tone was that to lead an entire army into battle; to create religions and cult followings. Blessed be the demon who wished to take down his own kind.

You had spent years convincing yourself to trust in what others told you to follow. Self-intuition wasn’t enough to breed a successful nurse; you needed the expertise of studies and procedures done before you. You required the necessary tools that others had used and approved of. Your heart’s certainty had no place in medicine. It had no place in the tried and true.

The man slowly rose one freezing hand towards your face, apprehensively watching for your reaction. You sat unmoving, owl-eyed. His palm caressed your chin, cold thumb swiping the tear from your cheek, smearing blood in its wake. “Find it in your heart to trust me.”

The conviction of his words rang lightning through your veins, mouth speaking without precedented thought. “Okay.”

He rose from his crouched position, offering a red hand to help you up from against the wall. You shook your head. There had been enough blood sharing for the evening, sanitation crossing your mind as you shakily slid along the rough plaster, bracing yourself to display a toughness that you weren’t sure you contained.

The rule of thumb not to trust those whom you don’t know played a soft melody in your heart. Mothers’ warnings and fathers’ lectures. Apparently all you had been told fell upon deaf ears, clouded with the hazy judgement of a life threatening situation. But in circumstances such as these, did the general rule apply? You were left to ponder.

“Hey, wait,” You frowned, a dumbfounded feeling crossing your mind as the man stepped towards the opposite side of the room. He stopped and turned, sharp jaw jutting against his mane. “What even is your name?”

“Oh,” He turned back towards the other side of the room. You didn’t follow. The door was the opposite direction, so whatever business he had over there did not concern you. “It’s Eren. And you?”

You felt a slight heat rise to your cheeks at the confession of his name. It was beautiful, feeling somehow appropriate for his physical appearance. “It’s Y/N.”

“Ah,” He responded, as if he already knew. You scoffed inwardly at his tone, still anxiously pressed against the wall. His blood stained hand rose to the latch on the window, attempting to open it.

“Why are you opening the window?” You questioned, noticing a beep from out in the hallway. The door stood open, allowing passersby to witness the blood on the floor and your cheek, as well as this man called Eren, who appeared straight out of a horror movie.

Closing the wooden door meant deciding with certainty to trust him; to follow him and hope that whatever tales of murderous vampires he’d shared had been truthful. To step away from the knowledge and the comfort of your current life. It implied that no one would see you in there with him and come to your rescue.

They will kill you.

Your hand gently clicked the heavy door into its place.

Turning back to Eren, you noticed his hand wrapped around the latch to the window. He was frozen in place, watching you make your final choice.

“You didn’t answer my question,” You reiterated. Eren turned back towards the glass. His reflection wavered slightly in the shine.

“This is how we’re getting out of here,” Eren responded, pulling the latch and shoving the window open as far as it would go. It stopped at about two inches, for safety reasons.

Disbelief once again danced across your mind, pulling you into what was beginning to feel like a new equilibrium. “If you’re planning to leap out of that window, it only opens that far.”

He ignored you, bringing his bloodied palms up against the glass. It appeared as though he merely shoved it; so light that it shouldn’t have budged. It shouldn’t have moved at all. The heavy window snapped at its industrialized hinges, pummeling down towards the ground below.

He glanced at you from over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised semi-smugly. You gawked back; simultaneously impressed by his strength as well as put off. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll die if I jump from here,” You scoffed, still not moving from your place. Eren stared back emotionlessly. He stepped towards the bed, reaching beneath it and pulling out what appeared to be a black hooded jacket.

He swung it over his shoulders, pulling the hood above his head. “I know. If you ride on my back, you won’t die.”

“Are you always this mundanely serious about fucking supernatural shit like this?” You spat. There was a warmth beginning to settle in your face as well as your core; heated by the idea of being so close to him.

“Yes,” He retorted, walking towards you so quickly you thought your head would start spinning. “No time to waste with your endless questions.”

He reached down, abruptly swooping you up from behind your thighs, effectively gripping you bridal style.

“Eren, put me down. Put me down!” You started squirming as he thundered towards the open window. You hated heights as much as the next person; they were fine in retrospect, but made you dizzy when in close proximity. Eren seemed unbothered by your quiet cries of protest.

“Eren, I swear to god,” You brought your fist to his broad chest. He ignored you, stepping onto the ledge of the window. Against any better judgement you still retained, your eyes glanced towards the drop. Your stomach sank, becoming a heavy boulder in the bottom of your abdomen. “Fuck, put me down!”

He stared down at you. A gaze so tranquil that the rest of the scene seemed to fade away. You became hyper-aware of his bare chest which you were pressed against; that unfamiliar churning in your core spreading towards your limbs.

“Hold still, or I’ll drop you.”

☤   ☤   ☤

next chapter >>

tagging: @sunshinedragonofthewest​ @ryukatters​

[hannie-dul-set]

DON’T THINK, JUST DO — na jaemin.

SUMMARY. an overthinker, a piece of advice, a sudden confession, and a subtle meltdown.

PAIRING. na jaemin x g.n. reader GENRE. high school! au, f2l, fluff, humor WARNINGS. swearing WORD COUNT. 1.6k TAGLIST. @danishmiilk​ @wownajaemin​ @leejunini​ @astroboy-lele​ @unknown5tar​ @yunoyeol​ @w0nni3wrld​ @charm-art​ @bat-shark-repellant​ @nct-writers​ @czennienet​ @neowritingsnet​ @kpopscape​

NOTE. surprise LMAO take this quick fic that i wrote in a couple of hours after a bathroom apology for being mia this past week, for not keeping my promises, and for my further disappearance within the next few days/weeks because i am, quite frankly, about to mcfreaking die <3 enjoy.

Self study period. Eight in the morning. Everything was normal— seemingly normal— save for the empty spot beside you where your deskmate should be occupying, perhaps pestering you yet again about the importance of eating breakfast if he were here, but he wasn’t. It was odd.

He’s never been late before.

Saying that makes it sound like you were closely knitted with Na Jaemin, the present absentee and your deskmate for about three years, but you couldn’t admit that you were. You couldn’t admit that you weren’t, either. Still, even if you weren’t as bro with him like his members in the school’s dance team, or as involved in his personal troubles as his childhood best friend, but at least you’ve seen the kind of lunch he brings to school every single day for three straight years. That was probably enough to form some sort of bond— though trivial, maybe even feeble, but it was enough.

That was also enough for you to develop an unsurprising crush on him. Your self-awareness was annoying enough to throw away any ounce of denial.

Which was also why you were worrying over your head when he missed the first period, even more so when he arrived like a disheveled zombie midway through the second.

“Na Jaemin,” you greeted his tardy arrival with your eyebrows creasing in worry. He greeted you with a usual good morning and his usual smile— or so he attempted to. But that smile lasted for approximately 0.813 seconds before he fell onto his seat with a contorted groan. “What’s wrong? Are you sick? Did you practice too hard yesterday? Gosh, you should know better than to overdo it.”

Jaemin only whined when you reached out to pitifully caress his hair, his gaunt face and evident dark circles down buried in his arms. “I’m so tired.”

Dear lord, what happened to the model student that seemed to shine day in, day out despite his overly packed and strenuous schedule? You frowned, telling him that he should just sleep through the rest of the morning and you’d cover for him, but he rose from his slumped over position and waved you off. 

“I can manage,” he gave you a tired smile. “I already missed a lot by being late.”

“You idiot, are you trying to die?” you huffed, snapping your attention off of him in annoyance. “Wait a minute, why does he look fine? Tsk. Lee Donghyuck were you slacking off while your team members were dancing to death?”

The man in question flinched, dropping his phone with a painful noise onto the table when you turned around and smacked a notebook onto his desk.

“Oi, what the fuck? What would you know when you weren’t even there?”

“Then why do you still look fresh while poor, tired Jaemin over here is—”

“It’s not that.”

You turned back around to the worn out voice beside you.

“I just didn’t get any sleep last night.”

To your surprise, Jaemin was the one who came to Donghyuck’s aid.

Donghyuck’s glare was enough to drill two gaping holes into your skill, and you simply bowed and gave him a sheepish grin in apology before switching your attention lanes back to Jaemin. Not the most embarrassing thing you’d ever done, but shameful all the same. “Then why didn’t you say so— anyway, that’s not the point. Did you stay up playing games again? Gosh, did Lee Jeno force you to rank with him? I swear, you guys should—”

“It’s kinda nice to see you worrying about me,” he chuckled, falling back down into his desk with his arms crossed and looking up at you with an invisible, fond grin. “But it’s not that either.”

Damn your stomach for suddenly deciding to stumble over at that insignificant gesture of his. He wasn’t even doing anything, but look at you. All of a sudden, guilt decided to gnaw at your conscience because while Na Jaemin was barely holding onto his consciousness, you were busy fawning over his charms despite the fatigue. You didn’t deserve to sit next to him.

“I was thinking.”

Your thoughts froze.

“About?”

“Things.”

“Like…?”

“Whether I should do this or not, whether I should just give up or not, whether I’m actually stupid or not...” Jaemin sighed, eyes closed in contemplation, or perhaps finally in drowsiness. You hoped that he’d just give in and sleep. “...those things.”

What could he have possibly been thinking about that the poor boy couldn’t even sleep? Whatever it was— cure that entirely. This was a crime. Maybe you shouldn’t confiscate his thermos of coffee later.

“Aish,” you raked your fingers through your hair, expelling an exasperated sigh. “Na Jaemin, as a professional overthinker, let me give you some professional advice—”

He perked up, eye now a little wider and looking at you in a swirl of interest and attentiveness.

“—don’t.”

And now confusion was thrown into the mix.

“You see, it’s an endless, torturous cycle with the only endgame being regret. You believe that you’re only gonna mull it over for a mere moment, weigh your pros and cons, and come up with a decision after a few minutes of thinking—” you breathed it sharply, shaking your head in faux dismay. “—but the ‘what if’s’ come around and before you know it, it’s already five in the fucking morning and you have to go to school in a few hours looking like a contaminated corpse.”

Jaemin blinked his sunken eyes at you. He wasn’t sure what to say, but somehow your speech full of vigor, confidence, and a ridiculous form of charisma drew out all the exhaustion from his veins. He buried his face back into his arms to avoid looking at you.

“Right?”

He pressed his lips together to prevent a smile from forming too wide, but you wouldn’t be able to see, anyway. “Right, you’re right,” but maybe you could hear it in the tone of his muffled voice.

You grinned, proudly nodding to yourself at his affirmation. “Which is why, before you end up following me into this hidden circle of hell— you should just stop. Don’t think. Fuck impulse control. There’s no time to regret when you’ve already done it. It’s not easy. Absolutely not. But it’s better to just get it over with and deal with the consequences after rather than living in an endless loop. So repeat after me— don’t think.”

Slowly, Jaemin peeked out from his huddled position, sitting up straight and looking right at you.

“Don’t think.”

“Just do.”

“Just do.”

“Perfect! You got it,” you beamed. “Don’t think, just do, okay? I believe in you, Jaemin.”

The advice that was haphazardly spilling from your lips was seemingly a bit crooked in nature— arguably so— but he seemed to be genuinely considering it. Jaemin was silent for a moment, blanking out at the rows in front of the both of you before he softly spoke up, eyebrows scrunched together, his head cocking to the side.

“Should I...?”

“Yeah, definitely! You don’t have anything to lose if you do it, right?” he spared another moment of consideration, and you kept going. “...whatever it is— but that doesn’t matter, just do it. If you do, you wouldn’t lose another night of sleep because of it.”

Self study period went on as is, but luckily you two weren’t the only ones not studying. You left him alone to rest and think about it more while you scribbled down answers for an assignment that was due later— highly contradictory to your suggestion of not thinking, but all was released when you heard Jaemin drop his pen to the table, followed after by a long, deep sigh.

“Alright.”

A bright smile overtook you as you busied yourself with the assignment.

“I like you.”

That smile disappeared with a loud and violent cough.

Oh, what the fuck.

“You told me to just do it, so there, I just did it. I like you,” he yawned as he melted into his books, peering over to look at the utter shock and disbelief in your frozen expression. Jaemin had to hold back a laugh. “You don’t have to follow your own advice— take as much time as you need— but I don’t want you losing sleep over me just as I did over you.”

With that, he decided that this was the best fucking time to finally disappear into sleep. You wanted to scream— the feeling of your throat twisting over itself with the indignant desire to squeeze out something, but there was sharp heat at every breath that prevented you from doing so.

You settled for two words only.

“Holy fuck.”

“Thank you for that quick and eloquent response,” Jaemin flipped over, looking at you with tired eyes and an equally tired smile, but despite all that he was still lively. “At least it wasn’t a blatant rejection.”

You thought that you wouldn’t have to make eye contact with him when his bangs were messily covering his eyes, but your regret came late when you caught the subtle quirk of the corners of his lips when you looked down at him in your daze. “W—wait, who said anything about rejecting you? How dare you drop that bomb onto me when I’m unprepared? I’m never giving you advice ever again.”

Self study period over. Nine in the morning. The bell rang and before your deskmate of three years, your crush of a little less than that could slip back into the slumber that he’d missed because of you, he managed to speak in a soft voice.

“Take your time.”

© hannie-dul-set, 2021.

[lexosaurus]

Pink Astronaut

This is my secret santa gift for Anectoplasm on discord! Happy holidays, and I hope you enjoy!

Characters: Danny/Paulina Genre: Fluff Word Count: 4549 Summary: To Paulina's dismay, she and Danny Fenton must work together on their English final project.

Read on [ao3] [ffn]

---

It was Lancer’s fault, really. 

He assigned the class a partner-project for their final presentation, but being the annoying teacher he was, he had decided it was imperative that the students  were assigned to pairs of his choosing. Aka, no working with friends.

Paulina tried her best. Truly, she did. She batted her eyelashes and put on her most polite tone when she said, “Pretty please with extra whipped cream and a cherry on top, can I work with Star instead of Loser Fenton?” 

But, to her utter dismay, Mr. Lancer was a brick wall. No amount of wit nor charm could change his rubric, and so Paulina relented in a very much not dramatic final sigh as she resigned herself to be Danny Fenton’s English partner for the coming weeks.

Fenton was...well, he was weird. His parents hunted ghosts, he always slept through class, he was clumsy, and Paulina knew that in middle school Fenton was just like all the other boys who saw her as nothing more than a pretty face.

And that annoyed her to her core. She was a human, damn it! She had her own wishes and dreams and goals in life. Although she wasn’t vocal about it, she wanted to be a journalist when she was older. The kind that made it to shows like 60 Minutes, reporting on amazing stories from all around the world. She wanted to travel, she wanted to meet people, and she wanted to be the best at it. 

She was still a long way off from that now though. First, she needed to survive through this stupid English project with that weird nerd who had gone through a not-so-secret crush on her before.

Though, when she looked his way now, Fenton didn’t look all too thrilled to be partnered with her either.

She would have called it odd, but that had been their dynamic for a little over a year now. She guessed that Fenton finally got the hint and dropped his love struck puppy act. Maybe he and Sam had finally confessed their undying love to each other. 

It was probably for the best.

Fenton made no move towards her, instead choosing to stare dully into his notebook.

Paulina rolled her eyes and slid from her chair. She strode over to his desk, throwing a hand on her waist and looking down at him with an expression she knew would yield no arguments. “Alright, my house or yours?” 

“Huh?” Fenton said, recognizing a little too late that she was there.

“For the project? The one we were just assigned? Hello, Earth to Commander Fenton! My house or yours today?”

“Today?” Fenton blinked. “You wanna start today?”

Paulina narrowed her eyes. “Why, got something better to do?”

“Well—it’s just—”

“I’ll come over at four. I’ll be at cheer practice till then. If you want anything from Starbucks, just text me before then. I know Manson has my number, you can get it from her.”

She left him sitting dumbly in his chair. No one was getting in the way of her and that A, especially not some nerd who couldn’t even bother to care about school.

But, to Paulina’s surprise, Fenton actually opened the door for her when she showed up to his house that afternoon. Half of her expected him to blow her off, just ghost her and leave her to do all the work. And yet, he brought her into his kitchen, got out his notebook, and got right to work.

It was unnerving to see him so studious. She remembered Fenton as a nerd in middle school, but everyone knew about the absolute nose-dive his grades took once he got to high school. It wasn’t exactly a secret, what with him skipping class every other day.

The duo parted ways with a promise to meet up again over the weekend. Again, to Paulina’s pleasant surprise, he actually texted her to confirm their plans. And when Paulina stepped into the Starbucks that Saturday afternoon, Danny was already sitting at a table waiting for her, his notebook out and the project rubric between his fingers.

This much good luck was sure to run out, but Paulina just hoped that Fenton could last another few weeks before he inevitably dropped the ball.

Except, that never happened. Each time they set up plans to work on their presentation, Fenton would show up, he would focus on the work, and they’d part ways with plans to reconvene later. It was uncanny. It was so unlike everything Paulina had come to know of Fenton through these months.

And Paulina wondered if maybe, just maybe, this was who Fenton really was. 

Under all those disciplinary actions, the dropped beakers, the tardies, the unfinished assignments and failed grades, if this was hidden underneath.

So then that begged the question: why didn’t he show this side of himself more? Why was he failing if he was clearly capable of doing the work?

And so Paulina sat there, just a week before they were set to give their presentation, scrutinizing Fenton’s features as he recited a passage from the book they were analyzing. She noted the bags under his eyes, the bruise on his cheek, the way his face seemed to tighten every time he coughed.

He had arrived a few minutes late that day, and she remembered how he entered the classroom, his gate just a little too stiff to be natural.

Someone had hurt Fenton, Paulina realized. Someone had beat him up.

For reasons she didn’t know, hot anger flashed over her. Someone beat up Danny, a kid who was clumsy and could be a bit slow on the uptake, but someone who Paulina had come to understand was a rather kind and gentle classmate.

Yet someone didn’t care.

So the next day, maybe she stormed up to Dash a little too aggressively to demand, “What the hell did you do to Fenton?”

There was Dash, right on queue with his cocky laugh and a, “That nerd had it coming to him!”

“Are you kidding me?” Paulina yelled. “A week before our English final presentation and you punch Fenton across the face? Are you stupid?”

Dash’s smile dropped instantly, “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Paulina, I didn’t—”

“You know how much this class matters to me, Dash! You know I wanna move up to honors next year! I can’t do that if you’re giving my English partner a goddamn concussion while we’re preparing to present!”

“Paulina!” Dash grabbed her arm.

“No!” Paulina ripped her arm away. “Don’t touch me, and don’t fucking sabotage—”

“I didn’t beat Fenton up!” Dash shouted. 

Paulina’s eyes narrowed. 

Dash held his hands up in a surrender. “I swear I didn’t beat him up. Ask Kwan if you don’t believe me. Honestly, I haven’t touched him in months. The—the coach told me that if I did well in school this year, I’d probably get recruited to college. I didn’t want to risk Fenton messing that up. I swear!”

Paulina stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to crack. But Dash’s panicked face held.

“Whatever.” She whipped around. “Tell your stupid friends to keep their hands off my project partner.”

“Consider it done!”

Paulina stormed off, ignoring the wide stares from her peers and the whispers of, “Did she just defend Fenton?”

She tried to block them out. They weren’t important. Her grades were important, her future was important, but those idiots? No, they meant nothing to her.

That afternoon, Danny was early. He was sitting there in the empty classroom when Paulina walked in, his head down to his paper, and didn’t even look up when Paulina gave her cheerful, “Hello!”

Well...that was weird. Sure, a few weeks ago, Danny mostly ignored her cheerful greetings in favor of getting ahead on the project, but Paulina liked to think that a mutual respect, or—god forbid—a friendship had been forming between the duo.

“Oof, cold shoulder? So not your speed, Danny,” Paulina said, plopping down to her seat.

Danny tensed, “I...uh, sorry. I’m tired.”

“Sheesh, alright.” Paulina slid her notebook out. “So we were working on the symbolism slide of the powerpoint, right?”

“Yeah,” Danny passed his notebook over to her. “I started parsing through the book at lunch today and found some good passages. Take a look.”

Paulina went to study the paper, but something else caught her eye.

Something on his arm.

Something that looked like a burn.

“Danny?” Paulina stared wide-eyed at the space of molten skin between his sleeve and hand. “What the hell happened to your arm?”

“Oh, I—” Danny slipped his arm under the desk. “I, uh, sorry. You see—”

“Whoa!” Paulina only caught a glance of his face before he ducked down again, but that split-second was enough. “What the hell? What happened to you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Paulina saw red. “Oh, that idiot! I’m gonna kill him!”

Danny looked up, the multicolored patchwork of skin on his face finally fully visible to Paulina. “Kill who?”

“Oh, look at you! That asshole!”

Fenton winced. “Am I...am I missing something here?”

“I’m gonna kill Dash!”

“...Dash?” 

“I told him this morning to keep his hands off you! I made that asshole promise to me, and I told him to pass the message along to his stupid friends too!”

Something in Danny’s expression softened. “You told off Dash?”

“Well of course I did!” Paulina said hotily. “You’re my project partner! What kind of person would I be if I let you get hurt?”

“Oh well…” A smile quirked on Danny’s lips. “Thanks for that, but it wasn’t Dash.”

“Well then who was it? I’ll kill them.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

“You’re right, death would be too generous. I’ll just destroy their reputation instead!”

A bemused look overtook Danny’s face. “Yeah, I have no doubt you would.”

“Tell me right now, Fenton. Tell me who did this and I’ll make them pay. You won’t have to worry about them ever again once I’m finished with them.”

“Oh, I…” The smile fell from Danny’s lips. “It wasn’t anyone. I just...fell.”

“You what?” Paulina’s voice rose in disbelief.

“Yeah, you know how clumsy I am.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. He laughed awkwardly, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I just—you know. I was walking in the hall, fell down some stairs, hit the stair rail at the bottom. Just typical weirdo Fenton stuff! Nothing you need to destroy anyone over.”

“Don’t play with me. You didn’t fall.”

“I did fall though! It was...yeah, you know how it is. I was walking and talking at the same time and just slipped and fell! Ah, stupid Fenton, am I right? Just always...falling.”

Paulina’s glare was hollow. “How dumb do you think I am, Danny?”

Danny froze, his rambling stuttering off into a tense silence. “What?”

“I said—” Paulina rose from her chair. “—just how dumb do you think I am?”

“Uh, sorry. I’m sorry. Look, I think we may have gotten on the wrong topic here.”

“No!” Paulina slammed her hand down on Fenton’s notebook. “This little tirade? This sham you’ve been pulling for the past two years? It’s bullshit, Danny, and you know it.”

“I don’t—I don’t know—”

“Yes, you do know! You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Paulina hissed. “We’ve been working together for weeks now, and you think you can just sit here and say you fell? To me?” 

“Well, sue me, Paulina!” Danny snapped. “Why do you even care, anyways? We’re not exactly friends.”

“Because you’re my project partner! Your grade is my grade, idiot!”

“Gee, I’m glad you only care about people when it affects your grade.” Danny shoved his notebook into his bag. “What an amazing quality to have.”

Paulina stepped back as if she’d been slapped. “That’s not true!”

Danny ignored her reaction, instead choosing to angrily zip up his backpack. “In case you haven’t noticed, your boyfriend’s been beating me up since we were five. I’m not sure why you’ve decided to care now, but if you want something to be mad at, maybe try being mad at the years of shit I’ve taken from you and your friends.” 

Paulina stood there seething as Danny pushed past her and stocked off into the hallway, slamming the classroom door shut behind him.

There was the Fenton she’d come to know in high school, this was the Fenton she remembered. The one who avoided questions, who put himself down to avoid suspicion, who left in the middle of class without saying anything, who no one could rely on.

But, perhaps more now than ever, Paulina could see just how much of a sham this whole act was.

Just how much he was using this face to protect himself.

But from what? From who?

Paulina tried not to dwell too much on the bruises, especially since they were gone the next day and didn’t reappear for the rest of the week. Of course, Dash swore up and down that he had nothing to do with Fenton’s appearance, and Paulina believed him. Dash could be a bit bullheaded, but he was still one of her closest friends.

For the remaining week they had to put their presentation together, Danny kept to himself, and so did Paulina. Whatever semblance of a friendship they’d built had disintegrated, and both parties seemed content to let it fall.

It made sense, logically speaking. Paulina was popular, Fenton wasn’t. Paulina was an extrovert, Fenton was an introvert. Paulina thrived in attention, Fenton shied away from it. They were like oil and water, a friendship just wasn’t possible.

The presentation day came, and the two spoke with confidence that could only have come from weeks of preparation. Paulina couldn’t help but glow under Mr. Lancer’s impressed nod. Their high marks from the project were enough to fulfill Paulina’s recommendation to the honors English course for the next fall.

And then the school year came to a close and finally, after months of hard work, they could finally relax.

But not before they celebrated first.

One of Dash’s good friends, Dale, had taken it upon himself to host the massive end of the school year party for the rising junior class at Casper High that year. His parents, being the weird sort of chill parents they were, offered up their lake house with the promise that there would be no drinking and driving.

The teens were ecstatic. 

Everyone—everyone—went to the party. Jocks, nerds, band geeks, theatre kids, every clique was represented at the lake house. And why wouldn��t they come? It was the end of the school year celebration! A time to rejoice in having survived another round of homework, tests, quizzes, and essays.

It was also a time where Paulina was once again reminded that yes, the theatre kids could in fact go shot-to-shot with the football team.

Fenton was there with his little group, but Paulina paid them no mind. This wasn’t the time to be worried about him, nor was it the time to feel any sort of guilt at the way their budding friendship just collapsed. She had her friends, why add another?

And it was just preposterous to imply that she missed Fenton.

Because she didn’t.

And yet, when the night was drawing to a close, Paulina somehow managed to find herself down by the lake where a skinny, black haired teen was sitting alone.

She stood behind him, unsure if she wanted to initiate contact. He’d made it clear from their last argument that he still held years of resentment towards her and her friends, and Paulina knew from experience that all that resentment couldn’t go away in one alcohol-filled night.

She turned to walk away, but something stopped her. Before she could question what she was doing or why, she found herself sitting down on the damp grass next to him.

“What are you doing out here?” Paulina asked.

“Oh, uh, hey Paulina! Fancy seeing you here.” Danny gave her a small wave.

“You too.” Paulina stretched her legs out in front of her, leaning back on her hands. “Some party, right?”

“Yeah, Dale was really nice to host this.”

“He’s a great guy. His parents too.”

“I bet.” Danny said. “How are your friends holding up?”

“Well, let’s see. Star just spent a half hour trying to convince me that aliens exist, and Dale’s currently comforting Kwan who saw a video of a puppy rescue on the side of the road and started crying, so I’d say they’re holding up pretty well.”

Danny guffawed. “No way!”

“I swear!” Paulina laughed. “This isn’t even the first time something like this has happened either. I swear, every other time we drink, Kwan always ends up in a corner somewhere watching animal videos on his phone and crying at how precious the animals are and ‘please, Paulina, can’t we just adopt one?’ He’s gonna be the death of me one of these days.”

Danny giggled, his laugh light and airy. Paulina watched him, amazed that they were able to just start talking again as if their fight had never happened.

“So what about you?” she asked. “What happened to your clan?”

“Sam had to drive Tucker home. He got too overconfident in pong.”

She snorted. “Dash is the same. He’s always like, ��one more round, I’m gonna crush it this time’ and then twenty minutes later I find him asleep in a bathtub or something.”

“Dash drunk sleeping in a bathtub? Oh, that’s a sight I’d like to see.”

“I can assure you that photos exist.”

“The perfect blackmail.” Fenton shot her a grin. “Remind me to get one of Tucker next time he does something stupid.”

“And what makes you think you won’t be right there on the floor with him?” Paulina sassed.

“Hah! You’re probably right!” His smile fell, and he looked at her questioningly. “Hey, will your boyfriend be okay with you out here with me?”

“Oh, Dash? He’s...actually not my boyfriend.”

“Wait, what?” Danny jolted upright. He spun around to face her. “But I thought—”

“Yeah, everyone does. But we’re not dating.”

“Then why don’t you say something? Squash all the rumors?”

Paulina averted her gaze back onto the lake. It was a gorgeous night. Stars speckled the sky in a spectacular display, illuminating the Milky Way behind them. Amity Park was too industrious to see the galaxy, and Paulina couldn’t help but marvel at its sight. 

It was gorgeous. Vast. It seemed to never end. She remembered reading somewhere that the Milky Way could only be seen if there was no moon out.

Luck must have been on her side that night.

“Unless...you don’t want to.” Danny’s voice dawned a tone of realization. “But why?”

“I got tired of it all,” she admitted, her honesty surprising herself. “Guys only wanted to talk to me because they thought if they were nice enough, I would get in their pants or something. I got accused of friendzoning more people than not. Honestly, it was so annoying. I felt everyone saw me as some stupid object. So when the rumors started going around this year that Dash and I were dating, and a lot of guys in our grade started backing off, I just...didn’t fight it. I thought maybe finally everyone would see me as a person. Maybe people would take me seriously.” Her gaze dropped. “I don’t know if it worked, but at least now people don’t see me as some sort of prize so much anymore.”

Danny was silent for a moment, and Paulina immediately regretted her admission. Maybe it was the alcohol loosening her lips, but she doubted Fenton of all people cared. They weren’t even friends.

One side of her wanted to get up and leave, go back to her friends inside the house, but the other side of her was too embarrassed to move.

“That makes sense, honestly,” Danny finally responded.

A wave of relief washed over her.

“And I’m sorry that there was a time where I couldn’t see past your looks too. I was young, but that’s still not an excuse.” He shifted. “I’ve had some...things happen the past year, and they’ve really taught me a lot about judging a book by its cover.”

“What kinds of things?” Paulina said, hoping her voice didn’t betray too much curiosity.

There went that hand behind his neck again. He was nervous, Paulina noted.

“Oh! Uh...it’s a long story, but I just wanted to say that I understand. I get what it feels like to be judged based on surface-level stuff. I mean, Paulina, you’re really smart. I don’t know if I told you this, but I’m really glad we ended up partners on that English project. I would have been so screwed with anyone else.”

“Thanks, Danny,” she said, trying to fight the blush that she knew was tinting her cheeks. “I’m sorry for being nosy at the end there. I didn’t mean to corner you like that. It was really stupid of me to pry when you obviously didn’t feel like talking.”

“No!” he exclaimed “No, don’t apologize! I was just being sensitive. Honestly, I knew I looked like shit.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Look, I didn’t fall obviously. I wasn’t trying to play you, I just panicked. But...I’m okay now, really.”

He looked at her, and Paulina noted how his blue eyes seemed to dance under the light of the stars. How he sat up straighter, his shoulders rolled back and head held high. How yes he was thin, but not scrawny like he was back in freshman year of high school. He seemed toned, lithe, almost like a gymnast. 

Danny had definitely grown up in the past two years, but then again, so had she.

“I’m glad you’re okay, and I’m also glad I got to be your English partner too,” she said.

They sat by the lake watching the stars until the chill of the crisp spring air began to set in Paulina’s bones. She left Danny in favor of the warm house, but not without saying, “I’ll text you sometime.”

The summer came, and the ever so slightly intoxicated promise to hang out slipped Paulina’s mind. After all, she had months of sleep to catch up on. 

Fortunately for her, Danny remembered. 

It was a silly text, a meme about Shakespear. Paulina responded with the appropriate emojis, and tried to convince herself that the smile she wore was due to the funny image, and had nothing to do with the boy who sent it.

And a week later, he sent another one. This time, Paulina asked to grab a coffee with him. Catch up.

To her surprise, Danny agreed. They met up at the Starbucks and what Paulina thought would only be a quick catch-up session turned into a three hour long hangout. 

Despite his awkward demeanor, Danny was rather talkative. Especially when the topic revolved around space. Apparently, he wanted to work for NASA someday. He said it came from a childhood dream of becoming an astronaut, but overtime his interests shifted into rocket design and engineering. It helped that—according to Danny—his dad had built the equivalent of an ecto-rocket in his basement.

Paulina confessed that she wanted to work for 60 Minutes someday as a journalist. She dreamed of traveling around the world, collecting stories and meeting people. She explained that as a kid, she used to have to travel around the world for her dad’s work before he finally settled in Amity Park. And although she’d been living in Amity for years now, a part of her still missed those days where she was constantly exposed to new countries, languages, and cultures.

Danny listened attentively, reacting at the appropriate times and pressing for questions whenever she would trail off. Even though he had a reputation of never paying attention to teachers, he seemed to genuinely enjoy listening to her.

Eventually they parted ways, but they promised to hang out again. 

And again they did.

And again.

Again.

There were some topics that Danny seemed to skirt around, such as why he sometimes would show up bruised, or why he seemed to struggle to stay in class despite his dreams of working for a prestigious agency like NASA.

But Paulina was willing to ignore those demons because she liked Danny, and she didn’t want to say anything that would push him away. And, despite their differences, he seemed to like her back.

Summer drifted to fall, the leaves started to turn, and soon it was too cold to hangout outside. 

Which was how they found themselves here, in Danny’s room, laying on Danny’s floor watching Youtube videos, their math homework long since abandoned beside them.

It was a nerdy video, one about bizarre planets that existed in space. One that Paulina would never have watched on her own, but Danny seemed positively riveted at. 

His eyes were bright and attentive, and every so often he’d point to the screen and go, “Look!” as if Paulina wasn’t watching the same video.

It was...adorable.

His excitement rivaled a child on Christmas. And as interesting as the video was to watch, Danny was even more so.

The video ended, but Paulina hardly noticed. All she could see was the grin on Danny’s lips, the freckles dotting his cheeks, the way his hair sat on his head like a soft cloud.

“So? What did you think?” Danny asked.

“Cute,” Paulina responded. “You’re cute.”

Danny blinked, his mouth turning to a little “o” shape as red tinged his cheeks. He started to stutter, to try to brush Paulina off, but she held onto his shoulder and said, “Danny, I think you’re cute.”

“Oh,” he said, his eyes wide. “I think you’re cute too.”

Paulina closed the gap between them, closing her eyes. His lips felt soft against hers, and her heart fluttered in her chest. Her hands trailed up to his hair, and she curled her fingers through his soft hair.

He was gentle, as if he were afraid to hurt her, and his skin felt cool against her own. Secretly, Paulina had always loved that about Danny, the fact that his body temperature seemed to run lower than normal. And now she could cherish this all to herself.

Danny’s hand wrapped around her back, gently pressing her closer. His touch was electric, and Paulina could have melted right there. She pressed further against him, deepening the kiss.

They stayed in each other’s arms, enjoying the moment for just a few moments longer before Danny pulled back. He looked at her, his eyes sparkling, and said, “You’re beautiful.”

There were some things Paulina didn’t understand about Danny. There were some things he was still closed off about, things he didn’t want to speak about. And eventually, Paulina would bring those things up, she would get answers. Eventually, she would uncover all the secrets, all the layers to the enigma that made up Danny Fenton.

But right now?

Right now she was just going to enjoy the moment.

[li-karina]

The Girl in the Bakery (Part 2)

Marinette stomped up to her room after her mother excused her from the counter. Flashes of the blond boy had run through her mind with each step. Something about him was comforting and almost familiar. Marinette shrugged it off.

Once she arrived in her bedroom, the blue-eyed girl spotted a small, red being sleeping restfully on her pillow. Tikki had fallen asleep moments before, exhausted from transforming earlier that day. Marinette smiled fondly at her friend, reminding herself how lucky she was to have Tikki.

The lamp on Marinette’s desk was clicked on and her swivel chair pulled out, prepared for the nightly routine of sketching until Marinette could no longer stay awake. It was a very unhealthy habit, as it was the main cause of Mari’s consistent tardiness; however, it was their daughter’s absences that worried Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng.

Not that she could control when Paris needed Ladybug’s heroic nature--if only her parents knew she was skipping class for good reason.

Cool air blew through the open window, making Marinette slightly shiver. Her hand swept across the pages of her sketchbook, pouring out idea after idea. Soon, she found that inspiration had left her, leaving her staring at her designs in shock.

There were six in total, covering 8 pages front to back. Immense detail and measurements littered around her drawings. Marinette couldn’t even remember her thought process from the last two or three hours; she had completely lost herself in her own creative outlet.

The first design was a skirt: long and flowy with a floral pattern made up of pastel colors. On her silhouette, the skirt was matched with a tank top and sun hat--a very summery ensemble. Specific sewing patterns and materials were listed in the margins; Marinette thanked herself for writing those down.

On the second page, a blazer was modeled. It showed texture and minimalistic lining, as well as being reversible. The outside layer was a sleek dark purple while the inside was scattered with polk-a-dots. She laughed at the subconscious acknowledgment of her superhero counterpart.

The third and fourth page were covered in components for a beautiful dress. A ball gown that could transform into an A-line. Marinette’s expression could’ve been confused with sadness, but inside, she was torn with disbelief. How could she have designed something like that without batting an eyelash? Professionals spend years trying to master their craft, working hard so that maybe one day they could design something half as breath-taking as what Marinette was capable of designing in a few hours.

Mari’s fingers traced over the unique sequence she formed. Curves and lines and many other shapes were depicted, meant to be incorporated into lace. Awe completely struck the ameuter designer as she gazed at the most extravagant piece she would've ever thought of. There was nothing that could ever top, what she decided to call, Belle en Tissu. Her own masterpiece.

Clearing her throat and regaining her senses, Marinette flipped to the fourth design. Utter bewilderment hit her as she glared at the page. It was a shirt. White and flattering, made of crêpe, with a paw print embroidered on the collar.

Interesting, she thought as her fingers cautiously flipped to the next design.

Now it was time for Marinette’s jaw to drop. She had already thought the shirt was strange, but waiting for her was a leather jacket. Normally, she wouldn’t think that was weird, but for some reason, her brain had drawn a very specific model to wear her design.

Adrien Agreste. The boy she had just met hours before. Why the heck did she draw him? How did she even know how to draw him? They’ve met once and she already knew to capture his bright eyes and tossed hair, his fantastic posture and smiling lips. Of course she’s seen his modeling ads, but not enough to know how to sketch out the way his arms bent casually to stuff his hands into his pockets.

Marinette slammed the book shut, not bothering to check the last page in fear that she would see something she didn’t want to. It astonished her; she had designed gorgeous pieces without thinking. But she also drew a random blond who happened to stumble into her parents’ bakery. This was ridiculous.

Once her eyes were no longer focused and wandered around her room, Marinette noticed how heavy and strained they felt. She glanced at her phone, the screen dark and shiny.

“God, what time is it?” Marinette asked aloud, quickly looking to the open window. It showed a sky full of stars lighting the night sky. The last she had checked, the sun was setting and the shadows of near-by buildings were still casted over streets. Now everything blended together in an abyss of darkness. She felt tired.

Spinning her chair around, the blunette finally settled her eyes upon the alarm clock that had failed to wake her up so many times before. It was 2 in the morning and she had school the next day. A yawn erupted from Marinette’s mouth, allowing her to accept the fact that she was going to fall asleep soon. It was a rare occasion as of late that the girl with a double life was able to sleep at all, so she was thankful for nights where she could rest peacefully.

Changing into pajamas and brushing her teeth, Marinette hummed softly to herself. She then happily climbed into bed next to her kwami. The last thing she saw was her window, still wide open, letting in moon beams. She wondered if Chat Noir could see the moon from wherever he was.

It was 2:31 when Adrien found himself lying in bed, staring aimlessly at his ceiling with Plagg asleep in an empty container of Camembert. Unlike Marinette, their encounter kept him awake. He thought of how friendly she was and how kind she must have been to offer him comfort. The box that once contained croissants lay discarded in his trash can. He ate one as he worked on an assignment given by his Mandarin teacher, the other was eaten by Plagg (who thoroughly enjoyed it, but would never admit that.) A grin was etched on the teenage model’s face as his interaction with the girl in the bakery floated through his head. Again and again.

Adrien shook his head as a word echoed in his mind. Friend. He finally had a friend, and not the kind of friend Chloe was to him. Someone he could be himself around and seek comfort in. When he first met Ladybug, he thought maybe she was the friend he wished he had, but then he realized that she was much more than just a platonic partner to him--even if it was one sided.

He propped himself up on his elbows, eyes no longer concentrating the void of his bedroom. His gaze landed onto the moon which lit his room. The light it provided accentuated the shadows and crevices of Adrien’s room, bringing it to life in a muted way. It reminded him of his own alter-ego, bringing his real personality to light, but also not.

Adrien fell back onto his pillows, humming to himself. He wondered if Marinette liked looking at the moon, too.

[hinac0lada]

PILOT 1.5

|◁ previous: pilot 1.0  | masterlist  | next: ep 1  ▷|

INTRO TO LOVE SCENARIO CAST AND PLAYLIST:

welcome to love scenario!  where in you will encounter 6 different scenarios, and 6 different male leads. no, you are not dreaming, this is indeed real life darling! lucky you, 6 men fighting for your heart, but which one will you choose?

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ALEX’S NOTE: a little more in depth introduction for the whole cast! get to know the cast of love scenario !

RISS’ NOTE: had to split the pilot in two parts because it would’ve been way too long ahihi

[ more under the cut ! ]

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INTRO: LOVE ME -- IKON

'DO YOU NOT LOVE ME? BECAUSE I'M SHORT?

DO YOU NOT LIKE ME? BECAUSE I'M NOT HANDSOME?'

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L/N Y/N

INDIGO — NIKI

'YOU KNOW I'M YOUR TYPE, RIGHT?'

paradise creek's popular girl, student council's vice president and captain of paradise creek women's volleyball team. her kindness and contagious smiles captured the hearts of her fellow students. one bat of her eyes, and before you know it, you're under her spell of charms. despite constantly being surrounded by her admirers, she is very approachable and would be glad to help you with anything! but do not abuse her benevolence, she is not one to be messed with! her leadership and athletic abilities will sends shivers down her opponent's spines.

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TERUSHIMA YUUJI

TEXT ME — DPR LIVE

'SOS GIRL TEXT ME WHEN YOU WANT'

 paradise creek's bad boy. has a flock of girl's drooling over his playful smirks and astonishing looks, oh, and we couldn't forget the piercings that adds to his appeal. every girl attempts to be the good girl who changes the bad boy's ways, but none ever succeeds. he has no interest in such a thing called love. hardly ever in class to some extent, that you forget that he's even your classmate. but he is shockingly intelligent, thriving in all subjects despite his countless absences and tardiness.

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KUROO TETSUROU

IS YOU DOWN — DPR LIVE

'DOWN TO TAKE IT FURTHER THAN YOU'VE EVER TOOK IT'

 the provocative and scheming captain of paradise creek men's volleyball team. his unique hairdo and witty remarks never failing to pique every female's interest. do not be misled by his sex appeal though! he is an actual dork despite that facade of his. likes to engage in a battle of wits with the girl's volleyball captain. in spite of the never ending back and forth between the two, he never backs down from a challenge.

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AKAASHI KEIJI

LOVER BOY — PHUM VIPHURIT

'CALL ME LOVER BOY'

 the president of paradise creek’s student council and the local pretty boy. you thanked the heavens when you were his seatmate in a lecture. he was a smart kid indeed and would constantly teach things that you didn't understand without needing something in return. ever so the tranquil male he is, he fails to realize those in tangent around him. from the chocolates and snacks left at his desk, to the girls almost fainting at the sight of him as he walks down the campus halls. he was completely clueless as to how his looks had a big impact on a person.

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OIKAWA TOORU

WOMAN — HARRY STYLES

'THIS THING UPON ME HOWLS LIKE A BEAST,

YOU FLOWER, YOU FEAST'

paradise creek's heartthrob. he was definitely your typical debonair pretty face. from his luscious looks, to his impeccable skills in volleyball—it's either you want to be with him, or you want to be like him. although, his captivating smiles and flirtatious ways never seemed to faze the school's popular girl despite constantly being shipped with the heartthrob. she thinks he's just being nice—who wouldn't blame her though? he flirts with almost everyone. but he will never give up in pursuing her! regardless of her obliviousness to his feelings.

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IWAIZUMI HAJIME

BEST FRIEND — REX ORANGE COUNTY

'I STILL WANNA BE YOUR FAVORITE BOY'

 y/n's childhood best friend and personal bodyguard that protects her from creepy admirers and would beat the living daylights out of oikawa. a known fact is that the whole population lowkey has a crush on him, although none would ever have the guts to confess because of his intimidating demeanor. though once you get to know him, he's a sweetheart under all that muscle. he would constantly hang out with y/n to the point where people think they were dating, as if platonic relationships weren't a thing, is what he thought.

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KAGEYAMA TOBIO

OUTRO: HER — BTS

'I CALL YOU HER, HER

CAUSE YOU'RE MY TEAR, TEAR'

that awkward, cute sophomore that basically lives and breathes in milk. ever since y/n was assigned as his tour guide during his first day as a freshman, the two have been close ever since. ever so the socially awkward teen that he is— although he would never admit it, he appreciates his senior's effort to help him with anything regardless of his incapability with talking to girls. would constantly avoid oikawa and his taunting at all costs, as the two have personal vendettas against each other for no apparent reason.

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MIYA ATSUMU

WILD — TROYE SIVAN

'NEVER KNEW LOVING COULD HURT THIS GOOD, IT DRIVES ME WILD'

seacoast private academy's setter that has a smug grin permanently plastered on his face.  he is quite smitten with a certain female in PCA—even though they deny rumors of their relationship. has a strangely large amount of peers in the rival college.

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BONUS CHARACTERS

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SAKUSA KIYOOMI

seacoast private academy’s not so average germaphobe that will literally hyperventilate at the sight of a small particle of dust on his clothes. hates physical contact of any sorts, but makes exceptions. he thinks having feelings is a waste of time. most likely does a better job of keeping half of the  campus tidy and clean.

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SEMI EITA

seacoast's student council vice president. a very ambitious business major that pushes himself to the edge. could constantly be seen training by himself in his free time and after school hours.

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BOKUTO KOTARO

captain of the seacoast private academy men's volleyball team and friendly rivals with kuroo. rumors say you could hear his voice from across the street, chanting the SPA's chant during lunch break. has not heard about the concept of lowering his voice down.

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ENDING SCENE; LOVE SCENARIO — IKON

'THE LOVE SCENARIO WE MADE. NOW THE LIGHTS ARE OFF.

WHEN YOU FLIP THE LAST PAGE, THE CURTAINS WILL QUIETLY FALL.'

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@tobios-queen @bubbleteaa @ushiwakaa @asranomical @from-left-to-write @sosugasweet @pineapplekween @kxgeyamasmilk @veggytaled @nerumiz @taeiliee @kuryusmu @tremendousglitterthing @yakus-yakult @aplexii @baby-boy-taichi @indigohitoshi @kawanisshi @thiccbokuto @miaalattee @wakaitoshi @thechaosoflonging​ @kawanisshi​ 

[just-another-thundermans-blog]

All Alone - Chapter 1 Part I

[A/N: Hey guys! This is a fic that I wrote a while back (mid June) and it's actually the first contribution I made for his fandom! You can find it on both AO3 and FF.net!

And now, I've decided to post it on Tumblr! I hope you enjoy!]

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Summary: Today was going to be a normal day at Hiddenville! Until it wasn't.

[Or, in which Max Thunderman deals with loss and grief with no one to support him.]

---

TRIGGER WARNING:  CHARACTER DEATH, GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF DEAD PEOPLE, BLOOD AND INJURY, SUCCESSFUL SUICIDE (Later on), SHOCK, AND TRAUMA!

IF ALL OF THIS TRIGGERS YOU, THEN DON'T READ FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY!

-0-

Today was going to be a normal day.

He woke up, went through his daily routine, ate breakfast, and then headed on his merry way to the hellhole that they call 'school'.

Now, he wouldn't exactly call himself a star student (not by any means) but (while he wanted to take today off), as per school law, an extra day of absence on his part would catapult him straight into summer school.

Ridiculous.

So, as he made his way towards Hiddenville High at a leisurely pace, tardiness not at all on his mind, Max Thunderman smirked ('Villains don't smile , Maxie.').

Yup. Today was going to be a pretty normal day at school.

-0-

School was boring (as usual-). Today just seemed extra… dull for some reason. It felt like there was some sort of heaviness that lied heavily within his gut and it was making him uneasy. It was probably just him being bored. Yeah- That. 

However, no matter what he tried, nothing seemed to alleviate the cloud of painfully dull boredom (?) that suddenly graced his soul. Not even the pranks he got to play on Bradford (and a few other teachers) managed to lift that stupid sensation off his chest.

So he went to pick on Phoebe! Nothing manages to cheer him up like picking on his (older) twin sister be it messing up her perfectly styled hair or flicking her ears ('Maximus Thunderman, for the last time, stop. It! ')

He went through the usual routine of teasing her about her new crush of the day (a boy named Jacob? Jason? Whatever-) and ruffling her hair ('Ha! You're so short I can easily do this !') until it was a mess of entangled strands. 

He smirked as she glowered at him through flyaway strands of hair and even managed a grin as she stomped away from him, dragging away Orange ('Cherry Max, it's Cherry!') with her.

That smirk dulled slightly, however, as the feeling of dullness and unfulfillness still weighed heavily on his chest. He reached up a hand to rub at his abdomen and frowned in irritation and slight anxiety.

Just what was going on? 

He almost felt worried for a second, but then shrugged it off. Must be a side effect of him staying up late inventing last night. 

(He knows that's not the case but it's easier than admitting that the boredom might just not be that.)

Today was a normal day.

-0- 

The school day didn't take long to proceed after that. 

He did notice though, as he made his way to the English classroom alone ('Hahaha, poor , little Max Thunderman! No friends and no talent! Super hero ?! More like Super zero !), that Phoebe was strictly not looking his way. She was frowning heavily and (even though it was apparent that she saw him and mentally acknowledged his presence) her eyes were looking anywhere but at him.

If that's not enough to tell him that she's angry at him, then maybe her dragging Orange ('For the last time Max, it's Cherry ! Cher-ry !') towards the farthest seats from him was a more probable sign.

Just maybe.

"Maximus Thunderman!" He snapped his head towards the fuming English teacher. Shoot. He wasn't paying attention.

"Yes, Mrs. Brown?" He replied, politely for the most part, as he gritted his teeth briefly. Gosh, this weird sense of dread (He was done pretending it was simply dull boredom .) was setting him on edge. At least his Thundersense was not blaring, that would've been bad .

"You haven't been paying attention to this lesson, were you young man?" The woman gritted out, her expression furious. What was up with her, he wondered as he stared blankly at the angry woman (did she really think he'd answer that question?).

Then it clicked. 

Oh right! She was one of the teachers who got caught up in yesterday's prank! It actually took effort to stop a smile from splitting his face and ruining his innocent expression. Dang, was that hard !

Apparently, he was taking too long to answer because the woman exhaled furiously through her nostrils and spun around, pen in hand. She jotted down God-knows-what on a small slip of paper before spinning around yet again (Gosh how is she not dizzy???) and slamming the slight slip on his desk. 

It was a note. To his parents. 

He peered at the angry teacher from underneath his eyelashes and pocketed the stupid thing. It would be a wonder if he even remembered the slip was there at all. 

The teacher remained standing there for a moment before gritting out, "You could use the time to pay attention and study instead of coming up with stupid pranks . Detention, Mr. Thunderman!"

Well, that escalated quickly. 

Not wanting to show how much it bothered him (not under that much scrutiny from the other students) Max silently nodded, looking as bored as he can be as the teacher glared at him one more time and spun around to finish her lesson.

Maybe today wouldn't be so normal after all.

-0-

Detention was… Painful.

Normally, he wouldn't mind the extra two hours of school. Most of the time he would sit alone and flip through his phone and maybe even finish his stupid school assignments (Gosh why were the letters dancing and floating around like this?!) as he waited for the time to pass.

Not like this though. That stupid feeling of dread that he had in his chest since the beginning of the day was so intense now it was almost burning. He couldn't hear anything past the buzz of panic in his ears as all his internal alarms blared to life .

He was sure that stupid Mrs. Brown was trying to talk to him but he wasn't in a good enough state of mind to do anything but stare and attempt to take deep, even breaths through the panic that was clogging his veins.

He tried everything to distract from the stupid feeling of fear and danger. He attempted to solve his homework but couldn't do much as the letters floated around his book in an almost mocking manner. 

Math was slightly better because the numbers stayed in their damn place , but between the underlying panic in his gut, the clamminess of his hands, and his tense muscles (Two pencils were snapped because of said muscles) he didn't get even past the simplest of problems.

It didn't take long for him to give up on school work and to try to take a nap (You can guess how that worked out.).

It seemed agonizingly slow but soon enough, an hour and a half passed. Feeling slight relief that he'd be out of school soon, Max toyed with his (third) pencil and attempted to calm down.

It was just half an hour. Yeah, he could do that. 

Or… well, he could have done it had it not been for the sudden, sharp tug that almost sent him flying out of his seat. 

The teacher who was standing (or- well- sitting .) guard on him raised an eyebrow at the sudden screech of his chair but soon overlooked it in favor of the magazine he was holding. 

Max didn't even get to catch his breath when the second tug hit him. This time he did get out of his seat, panting as his Thundersense went insane.

The teacher (what's-his-name) looked up sharply from his magazine and glowered at him, "Mr. Thunderman sit back down. "

But Max didn't hear him.

Between the sudden feeling of being dumped in an ice bath and the painfully urgent tug in his belly, Max couldn't hear a thing but the sound of the blood rushing to his ears and suspiciously familiar screams of panic.

"Mr. Thunderman!"

Max's head snapped up, his wide eyes fixating on the angry teacher. He blinked once before he licked his chapped lips and bolted out of the classroom.

Max thought he had heard the angry teacher yelling his name as he ran like a bat from hell away from school. His surroundings all blurred as he ran, nothing but his home, his family , on his mind. The tugging feeling got a bit sharper and Max tried his best to speed up even more.

Something was very wrong at home. 

'Oh God, please let them be okay, please- please-' 

He was probably garnering strange looks from running so fast. He didn't care. Maybe he should calm down and try to think it through. What was he thinking? Of course not! His family was in danger right now, so maybe he should be running faster than this. 

By the time he made it to his house, he was red in the face and panting hard. He didn't care nearly enough about that right now and he couldn't calm down, wouldn't calm down, until he saw all of his family well, alive, and breathing .

He didn't even bother with knocking as he all but broke the door down in his urgency. Looking around wildly, he saw no form of life in the suspiciously dark house (despite the daylight) which only made the alarm bells in his head blare louder .

"MOM?! MOOOM?!" He hollered at the top of his lungs, hoping for some kind of reaction, "MOM, DAD?!? PHOEBE, BILLY, NORA??!??!" Max yelled again, desperation and true fear being the only things he can clearly feel at the moment.

Quickly closing the door behind him, Max ran into the living room looking around for any form of life in the silent house-

And paused in sheer horror.

There, lying on the floor, were two bodies . Two very familiar bodies of the very people he was calling for a moment before.

Max couldn't believe his eyes. A slight whimper escaped his lips as he backpedaled in alarm. He yelped as he felt himself trip on something and was helpless to stop himself from hitting the ground butt first. He blinked slightly as the situation began to register a bit more in his horror-struck brain.

"Mom? Dad?" He mumbled weakly (he didn't even recognize the sound of his own voice -) feeling numb as he stared, wide-eyed, at his parents' prone bodies lying on the floor. He noticed (through the horror and choking terror) that they were both very still (something that simply didn't happen because Barb and Hank Thunderman were both so active and full of life.) and lifeless.

His Mom ('Oh sweetie, would you like some milk with that?') was lying on her side, her normally vibrant auburn locks looking dull as they lied on her face. Even in the dark, he could see that a disturbingly large patch of darkness was firmly staining her shirt and the ground beneath her.

His Dad, on the other hand, was lying on his back, his limbs sprawled around him in awkward angles. The man's body looked like it was used as a chew toy and (even though he was on the darker side of the room) it was very obvious which one of his parents sustained the most damage from whatever the hell happened here.

-0-

Next

[vin-taege]

decaf (m)

summary: taehyung was the cute barista who hated caffeine, yet worked at a coffee shop. you’re a semi-organized college student who’s always late to lectures.

genre: smut, fluff, pwp

pairing: barista!Taehyung x reader

words: 8k+

warnings: baby boy!Taehyung, femdom, accidental nudes, mentioned masturbation, pain kink, grinding, dry humping, oral sex, thigh-riding, fingering, dirty talk, overstimulation, degradation, newly discovered mommy kink

note: now freshly edited

Mr. Min’s history class was supposed to be five minutes ago, and the twenty-six year old with the mindset of an eighty-year old hated tardy students. However, you figured you were already late, so why not stop over at the café to pick up your breakfast (which you would also serve as your lunch)? Late nights of completing last minute essays and studying for exams due in two weeks’ time brought you closer to the staff. They’d fix you a small sandwich and a cup of coffee with just one text from you the night before.

Usually, the person in-charge of “VIP” breakfast duty was Kim Taehyung, not that he complained.

It wasn’t like the staff assigned him the task on purpose. There was no way the whole staff knew of his huge, in-depth crush on you and used this as an opportunity to bring you close together.

The bell rang lightly, alerting the arrival of a new customer. Taehyung looked up from behind the counter, almost dropping the sugar packets Jimin had asked him to find. Half of your hair was tossed up in a messy bun, the other half in tangles around your face. One backpack strap was slung over your shoulder, your fluffy hoodie underneath.

Jungkook almost groaned at the heart-eyes his co-worker made for you if it wasn’t for the long line of business men and office workers getting more impatient by the second. Jimin rushed over to Taehyung, visibly distressed with his lack of sugar packets, when he saw who the younger boy was looking at. With a sigh, he grabbed the brown paper back containing your food for the day, and shoved it against the blue-haired boy.

You have been doing this exact routine for almost two years, steadily building up your relationship with the barista. It was so refreshing seeing a friendly face outside of your usual college peers. You friends are deeply loved and appreciated, but seeing them also reminds you of the copious amount of essays all due within the same week. 

“Good morning!” You have Taehyung a close-lipped smile, still a bit groggy from your late-night study session.

“H-hey, beautiful! I just re-heated your food five minutes ago, so it should still be warm. Thought you would’ve been absent today,” he handed you the paper bag, boxy smile not leaving his face. “Overslept?”

You hummed, taking in the scent of toasted bread, gouda cheese, and bacon. “Unfortunately. Mr. Min would have to endure the catastrophe of my presence being unable to grace his lecture hall,” You threw a hand dramatically over your forehead, ignoring the looks you got from the other customers. After all, you didn’t have to wait in line.

A chuckle rumbled from his throat. “Don’t forget your coffee. I have a feeling you’re gonna need it.”

“That feeling is correct, my good friend. I wouldn’t hold you any longer- don’t want Namjoon scolding you about professionalism again,” you waved him goodbye, exiting the café with the same light bell ring behind you.

You debated running to catch up to at least the last bits of the lecture, but your rough morning rendered your body sluggish, and you ended up walking anyway. Even when you knocked on the door, your professor gave you a pointed glare, to which you returned a sheepish smile to. Fortunately, there was still a free seat near the middle.

Half of the lecture already passed by, but you knew Seulgi would be more than happy to lend you notes. Not that she could say no to you or avoid you, since you dormed with her.

Taking the sandwich out of the paper bag, you realized Taehyung must’ve mistakenly packed two. It was risky to spend excess money on an extra sandwich, especially with rent day coming up, but looking closely into the bag, you were relieved you didn’t have to.

“On me :)” was written on a yellow post-it note, neatly placed on top of the second sandwich. Subconsciously, you smiled, taking a mental note to thank Taehyung later. Min didn’t really mind students eating in class - he did it himself. So, unabashedly, you tucked into the bacon and gouda cheese, while taking notes.

Halfway through, you caught a glimpse of a string of black ink scrawled onto the side of your coffee cup. You put your pen down and turned the cup over, revealing a phone number and a small message under it. “Text me when you’re free, beautiful.”

“___, I would appreciate it if you found my class more interesting than your coffee cup. I already took marks off you for being tardy, don’t make me do it again,” you looked up to see Min staring straight at you. Blushing, you mumbled out a small apology, though it wasn’t your professor that got you flustered, but a certain blue-haired barista.

 “You gave her what?!” Taehyung was ready to rip his hair out, or even fight Jimin at the café parking lot right there, right now, maybe even both. The older barista looked at him over his phone, lollipop still in-between his lips.

“I did you a favour,” he took the candy out with a pop. “I swear, if you silently pine over her for even one more minute, Jungkook will leap over that counter and punch the glass,” he punctuated, jabbing the lollipop at the wide, glass panes of the café.

“Oh my God, she’s going to think I’m some freaky weirdo,” Taehyung muttered, head still in his hands. “Even worse, a stalker.”

Jimin was drowning out the younger one’s ramblings, opting to check his watch instead. Fifteen minutes until break was over. He looked over to Taehyung again, sighing when he still heard his panicked mumbling.

“Tae, nothing bad’s going to happen. You could just tell her I was the one who wrote it, if you want to,” he rolled his tongue over the hardened sugar, artificial coffee flavour washing over his taste buds. “I don’t think you need to though. She definitely likes you back.”

Taehyung’s eyes lit up. He immediately stopped, standing straight. “You think so? I mean, I always knew she was nice to me, but I thought she was nice to everyone, so I didn’t assume-“

“Literally everyone in the café knows about your unspoken mutual pining for each other,” He offered the lollipop to Taehyung. The younger one grimaced at the spit-covered candy and shook his head. “Funny for a person who dislikes coffee to be working in a coffee shop.”

“It has your saliva on it.”

“If it had her saliva on it, you’d bite the whole thing off in a heartbeat,” Taehyung sputtered, making the older boy smirk. “Wow, you’re into that? Kinky boy.”

“Hyung!”

Before Taehyung could further protest, he felt his phone buzz. He shot Jimin a glare before holding a finger up. Confusion, excitement, then an arrow to the heart; Taehyung jolted up, even surprising Jimin himself. “What? What is it?” he moved to glance at the younger barista’s phone, lips curling into a pleased smirk when he saw what was on the screen.

[unknown]: hi it’s ___ :)

[unknown]: thanks for the extra sandwich btw, I really appreciate it

Jimin patted him on the back, words of congratulations flowing through one ear straight out the other. He couldn’t focus on anything else aside from the two texts – both of them already making his day better.

 [cutie barista dude]: hey

[cutie barista dude]: it’s Tae from the café

[cutie barista dude]: u could call me café Tae lol

[cutie barista dude]: or not

[cutie barista dude]: are u busy?

Seulgi puckered her lips, smacking them before squinting harder at the lit screen. “Oh no, honey. He’s a multi-texter. Seems like the clingy type. And ‘café Tae’, really?”

Letting out a sigh, you rolled your eyes at her. “He’s nice. He makes me breakfast almost every day, and he’s actually pretty cute.” Stunning. Awe-striking. Breath-taking. Ethereal. ‘Cute’ was an understatement for this boy’s beauty.

“Just because a man makes you scrambled eggs, doesn’t mean you automatically jump on that dick and ride it into the sunset,” you almost spit your food out, hand thumping your chest to ease the chewed lump down. Seulgi didn’t even bat an eyelash.

“I don’t even like my eggs scrambled.”

“Oh, right. You like them fertilized,” In a blink of an eye, a notebook smacked her straight in the face. A scream of frustration left her, along with whines of how long it took her to do her makeup. Before she had a chance to pry your phone of your hands, you quickly replied.

To [cute barista dude]: nope. We’re on break :)

If you could only see Taehyung now, you’d realize how much of an impact you had on him. It was the café’s dead hours, or the short time frame where there were only one or two customers in the shop, giving the staff a breather. It was during this time almost the entirety of the staff were crammed inside the cleaning closet, circling around Taehyung, and egging him on to ask you out.

And if he only saw you right now, he’d realize how much of an impact he had on you.

It was Hyuna’s threat that got him to pressed send, “Kim Taehyung, if you won’t make a move on her, I will!”

[cute barista dude]: oh, in that case, do you want to maybe hang out tonight?

This time, Seulgi raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. She hummed, drumming her fingers on the social science notebook you threw on her. “I don’t know about you, but if this boy’s as pretty as you say he is, I wouldn’t pass the opportunity up.”

It was rare whenever you listened to Seulgi, since she’s the personification of bad advice. However, she had a point; you were in dire need of a break, maybe even a boyfriend.

You typed in a small text confirming you were available, before standing up to go to your next lecture. Though you were roommates, you only shared one lecture hall with Seulgi – history. She walked next you in the hallways, still gushing about your “mini impromptu date” tonight.

“Just know that I’ll be holed up in my room all night. We have a thesis defense in three days, so if you want to take him out for a ride, don’t do it in our dorm.” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, making you laugh.

 Taehyung was a nervous wreck. Maybe Jimin was right about him turning into a walking nervous system whenever he was with you. He didn’t even know what got into him, or where he got the sudden burst of confidence from.

All he knew was that it worked; because somehow, you were in his house, pressed against him, eating pizza while some surprisingly well-produced horror movie played in the background. You munched contentedly on your slice, snuggling into the warmth radiating from the lean boy.

“You know, when you said ‘hang out’, I expected like a park, or a restaurant. What I got was way better,” you smiled up at him.

Taehyung had to pretend his heart didn’t just sink, then explode back to life in a matter of milliseconds. “I was a little stumped with what movie to pick. Couldn’t choose between,” he took a glance at the DVD cover. “- El Orfanato and Your Name.”

“Your Name? Didn’t take you for a romance-anime type of guy.”

“My co-worker is. I saw it once with him, and it was really good though,” He shuffled closer to you, pulling the blanket over your bodies. You shifted in your seat, turning your body so you laid on top of him.

It was silent for a while. The only sound was the occasional Spanish from the film and your soft breathing. The fact that it wasn’t the usual rom-com or shallow-plotted movie – the usual picks for Netflix and Chill – really shed a light on how Taehyung genuinely wanted you to unwind with him, and not just get into your pants.

The movie itself was actually interesting. Knowing Taehyung was someone who had a passion for arts and photography, you didn’t expect any less from his taste.

“How did you find this film?” you murmured into his t-shirt. He shrugged, trembling fingers tapping rhythmically on your back.

“Watch Mojo list,” you threw your head back in laughter, him giggling with you.

“Heathen,” you managed to say in between breaths. “And I thought you were a man of class.”

“God forbid I actually take you out based on a Watch Mojo video. I like underrated films, the type that isn’t easy to find. I thought you might’ve wanted to take a break from cheap jumpscares and slasher gore.”

You hummed, “This is a nice change. I could get used to you taking me out.”

Red blossomed from his cheeks, heart soaring at the implication. “Oh, how convenient. I could get used to that too.” He cleared his throat, trying to meet your sparkling eyes. “Maybe I should start making you lunch too, aside from breakfast.”

“Like a date?”

The cola burned his nasal cavities, some of it spewing out his nose and mouth when he quite literally choked on it. Hurriedly, you thumped his back, voicing out your concern as he coughed his lungs out. Taehyung wished the ground would just swallow him whole. There was cola over his shirt and hands. Not to mention, half of his face was a sticky mess. He groaned, covering his face in shame.

“I’m sorry. That was very disgusting, I’m so sorry,” he sounded like he was about to cry.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, really. Are you okay now?”

He gave a half-hearted nod. “Can we just pretend that never happened?”

You took some tissue from your bag and started wiping his face. Although it was pretty funny, you gave into him – you will never speak of the incident.

“Were you serious about going on a date with me?” he asked bashfully after an awkward period of silence.

“Why not? You’re a great guy, and I’d love to know more about the cute barista making me breakfast each morning. You know, outside your pre-established, in-depth nerd persona,” His mood was quickly lifted, though his smile still didn’t reach his eyes. “I need you to smile for me though.”

“But I am,” he whined. Admittedly, he was still embarrassed by the previous stunt he pulled. Fortunately, you could see right through him. You pounced at his sides, fingers scrambling all over his tummy. Taehyung yelped, wriggling away from you. Even though he was half your size, and can easily push you off, he decided to let you have your fun.

In the midst of trying to tickle him, you pressed your palm into his crotch, the action going unnoticed as you straddled him. Taehyung however, noticed it all too well. His eyes widened, and he begged himself not to pop a boner with you sitting right on top of him.

He couldn’t forget it, even after you’ve gone home and it was just a black screen on the TV. He couldn’t forget it even as he was cleaning up, finding himself with warm water running down his back, phone placed by the sink, the echo of a slow saxophone beat filling the room.

The heat and thoughts of your hand wrapped around him, mouth taking in his length, sent blood rushing to his head. Your scent still lingered at the back of his mind, pretty eyes looking up at him through your lashes. Jimin would tease him for jacking off just after the first date. Was it even considered a date? After all, he said ‘hang out.’

Nevertheless, he grunted as he wrapped his hand around himself. Placing a steady hand on the shower wall, he shuddered, teasing himself with slow strokes before getting faster and faster. He closed his eyes and leaned into the wall, drowning himself in the thought of you.

Taehyung let out a groan, bucking into his hand. The warm water poured heavily on him as he slowly got closer to release. Chasing his high was an easy task; his mind was filled with thoughts of you moaning as he buried himself deep in you, the way you’d whimper under him, your breathy whines. Pre-cum was steadily flowing out his dick, his fingers getting sticky from it before the water would wash it away.

He let out low grunts, breaths getting heavier. Almost there. Just as he was about to release, the buzzing of his phone cut through the music. Huffing, he thought twice whether to continue or not, but decided against it. The text might’ve been important, especially since Namjoon hinted towards a promotion last week.

Head still reeling from his self-denied orgasm, he clumsily wiped his hands on the towel, hands still slightly wet. He trudged over to the sink, fumbling with his phone. The water dripping off his hands made it difficult to press the right buttons, and after two times of accidentally exiting to the home screen, he heard a camera snap, accompanied by a flash bouncing off the mirror.

“Shit.”

Taehyung put his phone down, thoroughly wiping his hands off this time. As soon as he deemed them dry enough, he checked his messages – only to come close to fainting.

To [Goddess]: photo sent

The picture was slightly blurry, but clear enough to make out what was going on in it. It was a mirror selfie. The flash did a good job of covering his face and most of his shoulders, but not too much of his lower body. His dick, still hard and even redder then before, stood against his stomach, water still dripping off his body.

To [Goddess]: I’m sorry I didn’t mean to do that I swear im not a creep please don’t hate me I fully understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore or if you want to break up with me im so sorry oh my god

To [Goddess]: I mean I assume we’re already together-together?? I don’t know, then again, im so sorry please ignore that picture forever

[Goddess]: seen

Fuck.

He really was the unluckiest guy in the world. The relationship started quickly and ended quickly, all because of a nude. He didn’t even know if he could face you tomorrow when you pick your breakfast up. Fuck indeed.

 On your end, it was definitely a surprise. Shocking? Yes. Unexpected? Definitely – you never would’ve anticipated it from Taehyung. However, unwanted? No. Hard no. As hard as his dick.

He was mouth-watering, a true monster by the sheer size and girth. Your cheeks heated up, tongue flicking over your lips. You clenched your thighs together, trying to seek friction under your flimsy shorts.

You had been snuggled up in bed, a good night text just sent to your possible future boyfriend when he had sent you this gem. You would’ve felt bad for him, the frenzied texts sent immediately after making your heart melt, but you were way too turned on to reply.

The thoughts of his large hands roaming your body, cupping your breasts, distracted you. The thought of him being the dominant one was worth contemplating - if he was, then you’d have no problem switching from time to time. You wanted to ride him, slide down that enormous length. If it looked that big in picture, you couldn’t even imagine its size in the flesh.  

You went to sleep that night tired from the pillow humping, but extremely satisfied with your orgasm. If you only knew Taehyung didn’t get to reach his own, you would’ve laughed; all good things are worth waiting for. You couldn’t wait to have your way with him – he was a strong baby boy, you could tell just from how pliant he was when it came to you.

The reply you typed out was forgotten and left unsent.

 There was no trace of Taehyung the next day. Jungkook was the one to hand over your breakfast, much to your disappointment. No offense to him – you had a soft spot for the kid – but you really wnted to see your starry-eyed boy today.

“Hey where’s Tae?”

Jungkook gave you an uneasy look. Nervously, he glanced towards the back of the room, where the kitchen was. Through the large connecting window, you could see a mop of blue hair weaving in between the metal stands.

“He’s on kitchen duty,” he blurted out, snapping your attention back to him. “I mean, he’s not here. He’s sick. Ask Jimin!”

With that, he chucked the coffee stirrers under the counter and scrambled off. Just as he stepped foot into the kitchen, Jimin went out, mid-yawn in a flour-smeared apron. You smashed the service bell repeatedly. Thank God the café had less people in the morning on Saturdays.

Jimin shot you an exasperated look, begrudgingly trudging over to you. He gave you his best “Employee of the Month” smile. “How may I help you?”

“May I speak to one of your employees at the back?”

“Taehyung is on kitchen duty.”

“Jimin, we both know Taehyung can’t even boil an egg,” you hissed, leaning farther on the counter, your nose almost touching his. Jimin bit his lip – you were right. Why did they even come up with that stupid excuse?

“Okay, fine. As far as I know, he’s beyond humiliated. He thinks you hate him. Ever since this morning, the only thing he’s been talking about is how much he hates his dick.”

You didn’t know whether your heart melted or ached for him. Men, in one way or another, can be adorably stupid and naïve. You tongued your cheek, considering your options. There was the choice of storming in the kitchen right there, right now, to confront Taehyung personally; but you didn’t want that going down your student record, especially since vacation’s just a month away. You muttered a quick thank you, turning to walk back to your dorm.

To [baby boy]: Meet me after your shift. I’ll be staying at my usual spot. Don’t even think of avoiding me.

 Five minutes until the end of his shift, and here Taehyung was; in the bathroom, washing his hands for what will be the fourth time. He was practicing what he was going to say to you, apart from giving himself a tiny pep talk in an attempt to boost his confidence.

Your last text glared at him from the screen. An overwhelming feeling of déjà vu hit him when he found himself in front of the bathroom sink, staring at the mirror again. Three loud knocks on the door made him flinch.

“Lover boy, your girl’s been waiting for you for about two hours now,” Jimin’s voice rang through the other side of the door.

“Just a minute,” The mere thought of him seeing you again just after he sent an unsolicited dick pic made him shiver. Lost in his cluttered thoughts, he didn’t even notice he left the door unlocked.

Jimin pushed open the door, letting out an exasperated sigh when he saw Taehyung looking blankly into the mirror. “For God’s sake, man up and just get it over with.”

When he saw the younger boy’s shoulders slump further, his gaze softened. He didn’t really take Taehyung’s situation seriously, not until he saw how much it upset him.

“Hey,” he walked closer, nudging the tan boy’s elbow. “If she really hated you, she would’ve left an hour ago.”

Taehyung scoffed, though a small smile played on his lips, encouraging Jimin to continue. “We both know ___. If anything, she might’ve thought it was a bit funny. Hell, she might’ve liked it.”

“Hyung!” he was flustered beyond relief, delivering hit upon hit to the older boy. “Don’t say that about her!”

“Just go out there, okay? Sort things out with her.”

He came out in a white undershirt he wore under the cafe’s light beige, long-sleeved uniform. You were down to your third croissant and fourth coffee when he spotted you. The nearer he got, the more he saw cluttered papers spread on he desk, the one you’re working on decorated with different highlighters. Blue for people, yellow for terms, green for dates - you had told him your color legends back then. 

The chair was dragged back, making you flinch in surprise. Taehyung, despite his height, seemed to shrink in his seat. His hands were folded neatly on his lap; you didn’t have to peek under the table to know his legs were spread wide, thick things just barely fitting on the chair space. 

You slid the pastry over to him, capped the highlighter, and melted back into your seat. Your bones let out a satisfying crack when you stretched; Taehyung was right about taking breaks in between study sessions. 

��Hey,” he offered, picking up a fork to lightly stab at the croissant. 

“Are you avoiding me?” His wide eyes met yours, eyebrows knit together. He resorted to lightly scraping at the side of the plate instead. 

“Don’t you find it weird?”

“Find what weird?”

“I don’t know. Maybe how you saw my... thing just hours ago, and now we’re here, pretending everything’s perfectly normal. Don’t you hate me? I literally acted like a fuckboy.”

You snorted, throwing your head back in laughter. He just stared at you in confusion. “No, what the hell? You are the opposite of a fuck boy. And you sent about ten apology texts right after. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

“So you’re not mad?” He leaned forward, mouth brought into a pout. Pinching his cheek lovingly, you chuckled. 

“No. We can just pretend it never happened,” You winked, quoting his words from the cola incident. He quickly recognized them, groaning from more embarrassment. 

“Why do you do this to me?” he moaned, but didn’t pull away from your touch. “Is this the karma I get because of that WatchMojo list?”

“You did get it from a WatchMojo list!” you gasped, chucking him a highlighter - which he caught with no problem. “Talk about top ten anime betrayals.”

The atmosphere seemed to relax after that. Taehyung finally began eating the croissant, much to your doting. He sat up straight in his chair, compelled by the need to impress you, while also giving out a “no big deal” attitude. 

The conversation shifted to your current situation at university. You couldn’t resist telling him about your history professor - Mr. Min and his seemingly endless collection of ties, plus rumors of his friends-with-benefits relationship with Mr. Jung, the biology teacher in the next building. 

“Wait but, oh my God, I think he’s actually cool? We were going to watch a film for the whole period, and he accidentally clicked on the wrong thing. And guess what?”

“What?” Taehyung’s eyes were wide like a kid’s in a toy shop.

“It was his mixtape! I swear it was! The guy rapping sounded exactly like him.”

“No way! Isn’t this guy, what, thirty?” He crinkled his nose in disbelief. You waved him to move closer. getting your phone out to show him the video evidence you secretly took. Even if you filmed the whole thing in plain sight, Mr. Min would’ve been too busy frantically pulling every extension cord to notice.

Scrolling through your gallery with Taehyung by your side, you froze, spotting a fresh, all too familiar picture just before the video. You skipped a beat, before swiftly tapping on the video, careful not to tap the nude you saved. Hopefully, Taehyung didn’t see it, the singular picture sitting among other pictures of lectures and notes. 

You pretended to concentrate hard on the video, as if it was the most interesting thing you’ve ever watched. Taehyung leaned closer, his broad chest pressing against a part of your back. You could feel his breath fanning over your neck, the feeling doubling each time he laughed. In a way, it assured you he didn’t see anything. You sunk back into him, trying to get more comfortable.

“He isn’t bad,” he murmured. From the black spaces on the screen, you met his brown eyes, a sultry look hiding behind the mischievous crinkles. You gulped, nervousness starting to crawl its way back in. 

As soon as the video stopped, you locked your phone and shoved it back in your bag. “I just remembered, we actually have a test tomorrow so I better go-”

“Can I come with you?” You stared at Taehyung, mouth hung open. He had a serious expression on, emotions unreadable behind his piercing gaze. “I could help you review.”

“That... wouldn’t be necessary. I could really do it myself. Plus, you look tired and I think you should re-”

“No. I insist,” His lips curled into a smile, almost daring. He leaned closer, lips just centimeters away from your ear. “I think we need to talk some more.”

The ding of the elevator signaled you it was already your floor. Thank God Seulgi was out for a group project tonight. The history test was partly a lie; you definitely remembered, but had already reviewed. Miraculously, you managed to get your sleep schedule under control, while also studying everything you needed to study. Taehyung would be proud.

Speaking of, he has now claimed his spot on your couch, less than gracefully plopping down. At least he had the decency to leave his shoes neatly by the coat rack. 

“So, what’s your topic?” You laid your notebooks down on the table, the post-it notes wedged between the pages almost falling out. You set the table up first, Taehyung’s question dissolving into thin air. Instead, he resorted to flipping through some of the pages, gnawing on his lips with each bit of information he took in. 

“That’s a lot,” His whisper didn’t leave unnoticed. You perked up, flashing him a mocking grin. “I thought you said you insisted?”

Immediately, his face burned red, resembling that of a child whenever he throws a tantrum. “I did! It’s just a lot, okay? Even I don’t take this much notes. How many pens do you go through in a day?”

You rolled your eyes, picked up your self-made flashcards - which really were just small, index cards scrawled on with gel pen - and handed them to Taehyung. “Quiz me with dates first, then we’ll work our way through important people and events.”

He fumbled with the cards for a while, taking a brief glance on each of them, before straightening them out and facing the “answer” sides of the cards away from you. “Great Depression?”

Your pace in answering was pretty quick, so in order to trick him into thinking you’ve just memorized it, you had to slow down, throw a few “uhm’s” and “hm’s”. There were times you’d get a question wrong on purpose to make the act more believable. 

Slowing down the pace wasn’t too difficult too. He was so distracting, in a way. He couldn’t be doing anything and he’d still be the most attractive person in the room. His hair fell lightly by his brows, cheeks full and glowing like his sun-kissed skin. The shirt he wore was a size too large for him, the neckline dipping just above his chest, showing his parts of his collarbones. 

The mass of index cards was thinning out when a particular question snapped you out of your daze.

“What was that picture in your gallery?” Taehyung’s eyes were trained on you, the flashcards still in his hand. You prayed you weren’t blushing right now.

“What picture?”

“The picture. You know what I’m talking about,” His serious expression slowly cracked, a smile coming through, along with a darkening gaze in his eyes. “You saved the picture I sent, didn’t you?”

Before you could think twice about it, you had chucked him a pillow, Taehyung effortlessly dodging it. “No! No, I didn’t! What the hell, Tae?”

Instead, his grin grew wider. He threw the cards on the table, and began crawling near you. You shuffled farther back into the couch, one of the armrests eventually hitting your back. He had you pinned down. 

“I saw it, ___. Don’t even deny it,” He licked his lips, the stupid smirk still on his face. “You liked the picture, didn’t you, ___?”

His voice was low, eyes piercing into your very soul. Instead of replying, you slipped a hand around his nape, bringing him closer then smashing your lips together. His lips felt like cotton on yours, and you treated them as such, licking the soft flesh to ask for permission. 

He parted his lips, granting you access. You let yourself explore the cavern of his mouth, engaging his tongue in a battle of dominance. Naturally, he let you win. You drew back for a split second, only to say, “Little brat.”

You heard him snicker, before connecting your lips once more. You wrapped a leg around his waist, bringing him closer to you. Your hands busied themselves by tangling them in his hair. In all the haze of the steamy kiss, you felt him growing under his pants. 

You pressed your foot more forcefully against him, making his crotch press into yours. The uncomfortableness of his jeans could be felt by how hard his cock was straining against it. You wrapped your other leg around him, then brought your lower half up, grinding straight into his erection. 

He groaned into the kiss, pulling away only to focus on your neck. He left a trail of love bites, hues of purple and blue, coming from your jawline to the base of your neck. You continued grinding into him, with slow, hard rolls of your hips. His head lolled downwards, slotting into the curve of your neck. His increasingly heavy pants could be heard, no matter how hard he tried to conceal them under the guise of nipping on your neck.

A light sheen of sweat was starting to cover you. The leather of the couch felt sticky on your skin, but it felt too good to pull away from. You allowed yourself to let out only a few long, groans, careful not to show him how much you’re loving this.

Your panties already felt soaked. The button of his jeans would get caught in the thin material of your shorts, rubbing against your clit. You jerked into him, borderline humping his boner. 

Somehow, you still had your presence of mind, and you had to remind yourself to calm down. Shakily planting your feet on any flat surface you could feel, you pulled your hips away from him, eliciting a whine from the boy. 

“You look uncomfortable there, sweetheart,” you said, hands working to unbuckle his belt. You took it off, unbuttoning his jeans too. Instead of releasing him already, you slid your hand in his boxers, squeezing the rock-hard length lightly. He screwed his eyes shut, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. 

Your other hand pushed at his chest, steering him into a new position. He sat on the couch, feet planted on the ground while your straddled him. You brought your hips down again, his boxers being the only material separating you from his cock. 

“Help me get this off, baby,” You murmured, about to shrug your shirt off. He shed you off the material at once, flinging it to the side. Then, he started grabbing at your shorts, running his hands around your ass too. With two, swift tugs, your shorts were pooling at you knees. 

As soon as he got them off, he grabbed at your hips, forcing you to grind on his clothed cock again. You slid one of your hands from his hair, touching the broad expanse of his chest, his toned stomach, until you reached his boxers. You slipped your hand, fingers wrapping around his cock, making him gasp into your mouth.

You gave him a couple light strokes, before pressing your hand flat against the head of his cock, then digging your palm into him. He threw his head back in a groan, grip getting looser on your hips until he was back in his original position, head buried in your neck. 

The room felt hotter, more humid even. Taehyung’s hair began to stick to his forehead the more he leaned into your touch. The picture wasn’t lying to - even without seeing him yet, you already knew he was big. His girth alone made it difficult for you to wrap your fingers around the entirety of him. 

Each jerk of his hips into your palm sent more pre-cum dripping out his cock. You angled your hand a little so that you could thumb lightly at his slit, spreading the pre-cum over the head. He was leaking so much that a wet patch started to form on his boxers. You knew the wet fabric sticking to his skin might make him uncomfortable, but you waited before making him take it off. You wanted him to suffer for a bit.

After letting him grind himself into your palm, you switched tactics and instead, gripped the base of his cock, jerking him off rapidly. His whines sent shivers down your spine, made you gush more into your already ruined panties. 

More pre-cum dripped down his cock, coating his entire length. It was easy for you to tug on his cock, but you didn’t want to make him come yet. You retracted your hand, wiping off the slick on his sweat-covered chest. “Take it off.”

He almost fell off the couch in his eagerness to get the fabric off. By the time he did, the mess in his pants was on full display. His cock sprung into his stomach, twitching when air hit it. There was pre-cum reaching until the top of his thighs, smeared all over the area surrounding his dick. 

“Do you want me to clean that up for you?” You purred into his ear. A choked sob made its way out of his abused lips while he profusely nodded. “Sit properly, my messy baby.”

Taehyung got off you, sitting on the couch with his legs spread wide. You placed yourself on the floor, kneeling before him. With one hand, you grasped his leaking cock, licking a strip from his balls up to the tip. He sighed out in relief when you licked the tip, before taking in the head of his cock. 

You sucked hard on his cock, the bitter taste of pre-cum filling your taste buds. He shuddered at the feeling of your warm mouth around him, tongue pressing firmly against his cock. A sudden jerk of his hips sent his cock hitting the back of your throat. 

Gagging, you slapped the inside of his thigh harshly. He whined, murmuring a quick apology. You rolled your eyes at him, sinking farther down his cock, until your nose nestled between his fine hairs.

You trailed your nails down his thighs, trying your best to relax your throat. Taehyung was taking in big gulps of breath, arousal flooding him when he saw you innocently looking back at him. “Baby, can I fuck your mouth?”

You hummed in approval, guiding his hands to your hair. With a tight grip, he pushed your head firmly against his pubic bone, before holding you in place and thrusting deep into your mouth. 

He hit the back of your throat each time he bucked his hips towards you. His head was thrown back, swimming in pleasure. A wanton of moans filled the room, along with your lewd gagging. His fingertips burned at your scalp, grip so tight his knuckles turned white. 

Desire coursed through your veins. You could faintly feel your essence dripping down your thighs, your fingers itching to insert themselves into your throbbing pussy. However, you wanted to focus on the writhing boy in front of you for now. 

He felt so big - was so big.  You could feel him down your throat, cock squeezing through the tight confines. Saliva trailed down your mouth as you dig your nails into the soft flesh of his thighs.

“Ah! A-ah fuck! You feel so good,” His thrusts were turning sloppy, the need to come burning at the pit of his stomach. He gritted his teeth in an attempt to hold his release, chest heaving slowly, a pleading look in his eyes once he stared down at you. “Can I, please?”

In response, you swallowed around him, sending him headfirst into his orgasm. Hot spurts of his cum shot down your throat, the rest falling on your lips when he pulled out. You coughed a little, before licking your lips and swallowing the remaining drops of his cum. Finally, you released your grip from his thighs, admiring the red marks left on the tan skin.

His thighs were still quivering, breath shaky. Taehyung was still reeling from his orgasm, giving you an opportunity to sit yourself on his thighs, hands placed on his chest. “Hm, this looks like a nice spot.”

Taehyung didn’t have time to respond before he felt your hot mouth on his chest, sucking and nibbling on the skin. He whined, but placed his hands on your ass nonetheless. Once you were satisfied, you pulled away to admire your work - a purplish mark sitting nicely above his collarbone.

“You didn’t get to cum,” He pouted almost cutely at you. Chuckling, you re-positioned yourself so you were sitting with his thigh between your legs. You brought your hips down, clit brushing against his thigh. “Don’t worry, I will.”

With his strength gradually coming back, he flexed his thigh, providing you a firmer surface to grind on. Your arousal coated his thigh, making it easier to buck your hips into him. His hands were still on your ass, helping you ride his thighs. 

You brought your lips against his again, puling him in for an open-mouthed kiss. You moaned into his mouth, his tongue finding its way into yours. 

Suddenly, you gasped; Taehyung slipped two fingers into your wet pussy, arching the long digits to rub against your g-spot. You groaned, increasing your pace and begun bouncing up and down his thigh. 

He thrust his fingers in, reaching spots so deep inside you, shooting sparks through you. One of your legs brushed his already hardening cock, making him flinch in overstimulation. The action caused him to draw his thigh away, cutting you off from your pleasure.

Abruptly, you stopped. You tugged his head back and forced his jaw open, spitting inside his mouth. He swallowed it immediately, big eyes looking back at you in arousal and slight fear. “Stay still or else I’ll grind my foot into your pathetic little cocklet.”

The movement was fast, just from the corner of your eye, but you caught it. His dick had twitched. The moment you put two-on-two together, you smirked down at him. He bit hard down his bottom lip, relishing your words. 

Of course you didn’t mean it. Obviously, he was nowhere near having a cocklet, but his reaction pushed you to kept going. If he wanted to feel small, you’ll make him feel small. “Dumb baby. The only thing you know is to fuck, right? Can’t even control your fucking cock. Much less stay still for me. You’re just such a needy bitch, huh?”

This time, he let out a long groan. Tears threatened to fall from the corners of his eyes. He was babbling, didn’t have enough presence of mind to form a coherent sentence. “Mouth... My mouth- baby- pl-please. C-Cum.”

“You have to use your big boy words, honey.”

He took a deep breath, mouth slack for a few moments. A strained moan made its way through his lips. “P-Please cum on my face?”

“You have to try better than that,” You sighed, feigning indifference. With another whine, he said, “Please, mommy, please cum on my face. I want mommy to feel good. I want to taste mommy please.”

“Lie on the floor.”

He scrambled on his feet, in a rush to lie down on the cold, hard surface. He grimaced at first when the cool marble hit his skin, but all discomfort he had melted off when you settled both knees on either side of his head. You knelt facing his cock. “Use your mouth.”

You lowered your hips, letting your pussy meet his lips. He lapped at your wetness, licking in between your labia, underneath your clit. He latched his lips onto the sensitive nub, sucking hard on it. His hands were wrapped around your thighs, bringing you closer to him. 

Your hands clutched at his hair. You could feel the coil in your stomach about to snap, with only one strong lick from his skillful mouth pushing you over the edge. 

You cried out, thighs spasming, clenching his head against your pussy. You leaned over, grasping his cock and tugging on it harshly. He jerked away from your touch, but your grip was strong. He choked on his sobs as you milked his cock, a smaller amount of cum spurting out his dick. 

You slumped down next to him, both of you panting hard. Taehyung’s tears were freely flowing, every part of him a mess. Some of your cum was still scattered over his face, his cum equally a mess on his thighs and on your hand. His hair was in tangles, lips red from how much you abused them.

“You’re very scary and mean during sex,” He said in a small voice, though his tone was teasing. You looked at him, a small smile on his face. “I liked it.”

You chuckled, gaining your breath back. “Hey,” you touched his forearm. “Let’s go to my room, okay? There’s a proper bed there you can lie down on.”

After you got him a glass of water, you ran a bath in the small tub you had. The bathroom that came with the dorm was small, but one of the only ones that had a tub in it. It was easy to say it was one of your most prized possessions. You mixed the last of your bubble bath formula in, and went back to fetch Taehyung. 

When you got to him, he was huddled under the blankets. Light snores came from his still figure. You nudged him lightly, shaking him awake. “Baby? The bath’s ready.” 

He looked groggily up you before nodding. You held his arm, supporting some of his weight. 

He sighed in relief once the warm water touched his skin. You placed yourself in front of him, leaning onto his chest. You both closed your eyes, feeling yourself relax more in the bath, with each other. You were pressed closely to him, his arms around you. 

“I didn’t go too far, or anything?” You murmured. You were honestly worried you did because he was in such a haze when you were walking him towards the bathroom. 

He hummed, sending vibrations at the top of your head. “It was amazing, promise. You were amazing. And it felt really good.”

“Thank God. I thought I might’ve scared away my potential boyfriend,” He let out  deep chuckle, chest rumbling. 

“I’m not that easy to get rid off, baby. Wait- I’m your boyfriend now? Am I?” His face lit up, mouth in his signature boxy smile. You nodded your head, sporting a wide grin of your own. He did a little fist pump before taking your cheeks in his hands and peppering them with kisses. “I love you so much.”

The morning after, Jimin noticed an unusual glow emqanating from Taehyung. He had the same love-dovey look on his face, only amped up by a hundred. He left his things at the locker room, humming a small song as he smoothed out his uniform. 

“You look especially... dreamy today,” Jimin said to him, two macchiatos in his hand. He shrugged, continuing to work the coffee machines. “I guess you worked things out with ___?”

“Things worked out very well for us,” He set the coffee cups on the tray, along with a some pasta and a sandwich. He picked the tray up, smiling back at Jimin. “You could say did she liked the picture.”

It was one of the rare days you didn’t wake up late. Taehyung had prepared you breakfast while you got ready, and you left for university and work together. Seulgi was, thankfully, still not at home, but she sent you text saying she spent the night over at her group mate’s house. 

If Taehyung remembered it correctly, you were supposed to have History by now. He smiled, knowing you’ll effortlessly ace the exam - thanks to his help of course. 

He finished drying the rest of the plates when his phone buzzed. He excused himself to the employee’s washroom before unlocking it to see a message from you. 

It looked like you were in a bathroom stall. You were wearing your shirt, but your nipples were visibly peeking through the material, stretched ridiculously tight over your boobs. “Thinking of you. Finished the test early.” Your next messaged read.

He gulped. He may not be getting the Employee of the Month award after all, not with how much time he is about to spend in the washroom. 

[mytardisisparked]

HAPPY INTERNATIONAL BAT WEEK!

Send me an ask and I will legally assign you a bat.

[lailannajacobs]

Empire of Angels | Part Three

pairing: bucky x ofc!Amelie Novak

Summary: Amelie Novak moved from New York to Boston to escape a shitty ex and to get a killer story. She just didn’t realize she’d meant that literally. 

Warnings: none! 

Word Count: 4.5k 

A/N: A bit of a long one this time, you hope enjoy regardless! <3 

Empire of Angels  | Part Three

Amelie sat in front of her laptop in her office cubical the next morning, trying to unearth as much information as humanly possible about Barnes before his reputation as a near perfect hitman had made him better known as the Winter Soldier. Her pile of information hadn’t amassed to much. Yet, despite her infuriating lack of useful information, a small smile spread across her lips. Amelie had managed to be the journalist to have gotten the closest to him.

After Barnes had left her apartment, she’d spend the rest of the evening and well into the night researching Brad Goulson: The Winter Soldier’s last target. She knew there might not be much of a link between the two, but it was somewhere to start, and a place to start wasn’t something she had a lot of where Barnes was concerned. Other than the white-collar crimes of Goulson’s she’d exposed the week before, Amelie hadn’t been able to find any other incriminating details on him. There had to be a connection between him and Barnes, she just hadn’t found it yet. But she wasn’t about to back down.

Amelie hadn’t mentioned any of this to her boss, Cary, opting instead to find something concrete and viable beforehand. Without it, there was no way he’d let her pursue it, giving it to some ‘more qualified man’ instead. The big problem was that there wasn’t much on Barnes, even before he’d become an infamous hitman. Apparently, he’d been a standup guy without any priors - or if he did have any, he was damned good at covering his tracks.

“Amelie, what are you doing still looking into that guy?”

She spun around in her chair, forcing a smile at the sight of her nosy cubical neighbour, Arnold. Being a gossip paid off in her industry and unfortunately for her, Arnold was one of the best.

“I’m just making sure that I didn’t miss anything the first time around,” She half lied, “I have a feeling I’m missing something, and I don’t want some other paper making us look like idiots because I forget something.”

He brushed the mess of dark curls from his eyes and peered even closer at the military ID of Barnes on her laptop, “Do you have any evidence or just this feeling of yours.”

“Nothing,” She refused to tell him about Barnes’ little visit the night before. She trusted Arnold about as far as she could throw his ex-linebacker body, “But that’s the reason I’m looking. Something bigger is at play here and I just have to figure out what it is.”

He pursed his lips that condescending way of his that she still hadn’t gotten used to receiving, despite seeing it at least once a day. Amelie didn’t regret moving from New York to Boston, but it didn’t change the fact that the move meant starting at the bottom of the ladder again. Apparently, a stellar resume didn’t mean being taken seriously for a woman.

“Are you…Never mind.”

“What Arnold?” She chirped, easily keeping the growl out of her voice, “I’m sure whatever you have to say will be super helpful!”

“Never mind,” He waved her away, practically prancing over to his cubical.

“Please,” She whined, batting her lashes even though she knew Arnold didn’t care for that sort of thing.

He sighed and peeked over the separating wall, unable to help himself, “Are you sure you’re not letting this story go because your article put you on the map and you’re afraid of being forgotten?”

“I worked for the New York Times, Arnold, I think I’ve had a spot on the map for a while now,” She pointed out, her voice dripping with sweetness. Amelie didn’t mention that judging by the constant donuts he brought into the office he was more likely talking about himself and continued with a smile, “I listen to my gut because it pays off, especially when there are so many unanswered questions.”

Arnold stared at her with pity in his eyes as if she’d just told him that she’d fallen for a telemarketing scam, “Listen sweetie, I’m sure you’re asking fine questions, but other, better journalists have been doing the same for years now. Just because you got close to him once, doesn’t mean you’ll ever get close to him again. You crossing paths with him had more to do with luck and you’re going to have to accept that and move on.”

There wasn’t much more she could say to that. Not when Amelie didn’t want to share any of her real thoughts with him, and he only wanted to appear interested in what she was doing to make himself look better. Like everyone else, he believed she’d made it this far off of looks and daddy’s money alone. Just once she wanted someone to see past the façade. Her mind immediately drifted off to Barnes who, despite initially being fooled, had figured her out pretty quickly. Although she was pretty sure that if she played her cards right, she could make sure he underestimated her, which was exactly what she needed. But she also needed another pair of eyes. It was a pain in her ass that she didn’t have anyone else to share this with.

“You know what,” She forced out a resigned sigh, closing the webpage on her browser, “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am in a little over my head.”

“Good, I was beginning to worry you were getting too caught up in this,” He shot her a toothy grin, “I have an article about fashion week that I think you should cover instead. You lived in New York, so it’ll be the perfect opportunity to relax and take it easy. It’ll take your mind off of this crazy idea about taking on a story that’s way to big for you.”

“That’s such a good idea, thanks Arnie!” Amelie gushed, swearing in her mind, “I’m so glad you’re my work neighbour.”

He stood, his chair rolling away, “I’ll get us coffee.”

“Perfect!” She exclaimed, watching him go, only muttering ‘asshat’ when he was out of earshot.

“That’s creepy, you know that?” A silky, female voice interrupted.

Amelie stood up, surprised, “Excuse me?”

The woman at the cubicle in front of her lifted her head and stared at her, an untamed afro falling into dark brown eyes, “It’s creepy that you go from being princess-goody-two-shoes to a decent, kind of badass, human being like that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Amelie answered sweetly.

“Sure you don’t,” She chuckled, “I actually read your article, you know that? It’s hard to believe the act when you read the kind of things you write.”

Amelie smiled and shrugged, choosing not to say anything although she was very much impressed. There weren’t many people who called her out like that. An idea began to take shape. Leaning back in her chair, Amelie glanced over into the kitchen to see Arnold busy chatting up the newest assistant. She felt bad for the assistant but thankful for the fact that he was distracted.

Rolling back, she peered back over the cubicle wall, “You’re Karla, right?”

A fake grin spread across her lips in what Amelie hoped was supposed to be a poor imitation of the one Amelie used on everyone else.

“The one and only.”

“How long have you been working here?” She asked, not bothering with pleasantries.

Karla narrowed her eyes, “Three years as a journalist, five as an assistant before that.”

The bare desk, void of any personal items gave Amelie the impression that she wasn’t someone who particularly liked her job, which, if she was right, would work in her favour.

“And what’s been your most interesting story here, so far?”

“Why do you care? And what is this? An interview,” Karla retorted, glaring at Amelie as if she could get her to back down with that deadly look alone.

Amelie shrugged, even thought that was exactly what this was, “Humour me.”

She took a moment to think about it, eyes gazing up to the ceiling while she sifted through three years’ worth of memories. Amelie knew from experience that if the memory was any good, it wouldn’t have taken this long to find it.

Finally, Karla sighed and lifted her hand up in defeat, “I don’t know. A coverage of St. Anthony’s parade last August? I got to eat a ton of cannolis.”

“And that was your most interesting story because you genuinely found that interesting or…” Amelie didn’t want to say the words. She needed Karla to say them; to acknowledge how unfulfilling her journalistic career would be if she continued to be sidelined by arrogant men.

“Of course not,” Karla snapped, “You know just as well as I do that we get assigned all the fluff pieces. Real, hard-hitting journalists are men, remember?”

“I know,” Amelie grinned, “I was just reminding you. It’s good to be reminded every once in a while.”

Karla crossed her arms over the Tardis on her tee, “To what end?”

“Help me,” Amelie didn’t phrase it as a question.

She’d need help to get her hitman, and she wasn’t getting far without a second set of eyes on the story. Her gut told her that the woman sitting in front of her was exactly the person she needed for the job.

“No,” Karla shook her head and continued to a few too many times.

Amelie almost smiled, knowing she wouldn’t need much convincing, “Why not?”

“Because you’re not supposed to be covering that story and if I help, I’ll get myself fired,” With that, she put her head down and began furiously typing on her laptop.

Amelie glanced back at Arnold, noting that the intern was slowly trying to inch away. If that intern got free, she’d only have about another minute. If she couldn’t do it now, she’d never be able to Karla to work with her.

“How long does it take you to write a fluff piece, Karla? Honestly?”

“An hour,” She answered begrudgingly.

“Right,” It took Amelie about the same and she figured they had to have the same workload, “So you’re telling me, that in your 9-5 job, researching and then writing four articles a week means that you don’t have time for anything else?” Amelie raised a brow.

Karla grit her teeth and Amelie knew she had her, “I don’t want to get fired, Novak.”

“You won’t,” She affirmed, far more confidently than she probably should have, “Whatever happens, I’ll take full responsibility. Trust me.”

“Trust you?” She scoffed, shaking her head, “Why do you want me for anyways?”

Amelie shrugged and told her the truth, “You’re far more observant than most of the people here and I need a second pair of eyes.”

Karla looked around as if there was someone in the vicinity who’d tell her she was making a terrible mistake, but no one paid attention to the two of them. No one ever did.

“Fine,” She grumbled.

“Great,” Amelie scribbled her address on a flower shaped post-it note, “My place, tonight at seven.”

“Fine.”

Amelie smiled, but didn’t say anything noticing Arnold’s approach and the coffees in his hands, “Oh great! Thanks, Arnie, you’re the best!”

Karla rolled her eyes before getting back to work. Amelie ignored her. She’d gotten what she wanted. So what if Karla thought her methods were a bit creepy.

“Listen to this. There are over fifteen murders attributed to the Winter soldier in the five years since he defected,” Amelie waited for Karla’s nod to continue, “Two years ago is the start of a pattern in the victims. All scumbags, everything from white collar criminals, abusers to actual killers. Some real vigilante stuff, right? But what about the crimes before? Some dirtbags, sure, but some good people as well. What’s the pattern? What happened two years ago? And why didn’t he kill Brad Goulson last week when he had the chance?”

Karla stared at her from her position across the sofa, blinking as she took in all the of the spitfire information Amelie shot at her.

“And here’s another thing,” Amelie continued, “Why defect in the first place? He was the perfect soldier with no records of violent behaviour, abuse, or even criminal tendencies, so why, all of a sudden, switch from perfect solider to the FBI’s most wanted?”

Amelie tucked her feet in underneath her and leaned back on the couch, trying not to seem so eager. Karla sifted through the evidence Amelie had compiled on her laptop, not saying a word. The silence only made Amelie want to fill it with useless babble, but she let Karla read on, knowing there was no way she’d get any useful information from her if she kept interrupting her.

What seemed like a lifetime later, Karla looked up, “How sure are you that he defected?”

“Only partly,” Amelie grabbed her laptop back, and pulled up a couple old articles from other sources over the years, “According to these journalists - and there’s no discrepancy between them - he defected. But I haven’t seen the actual file that classifies his termination with the military, that information is sealed by the government. So, unless I can actually get the real file, we’re going off of assumptions here.”

“Okay,” Karla nodded thoughtfully, “I agree with you that something feels off about the whole thing, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

Amelie flopped back on the couch and groaned, “Me either. What else to you think? Give me all your thoughts, no matter how small.”

“Well, I think we need to look into Goulson. I think if you want to find your Winter Soldier again, he’s the best place to start,” Karla said, grabbing her own laptop.

Amelie didn’t mention that she had a good feeling that if she dug deep enough, Barnes would find her. His warning the other night had been crystal clear - not that she planned on heading it - and he would find her when she kept pushing.

But Karla was right. Something was weird about the Brad Goulson case, and it was definitely linked to the Winter Soldier. If she was being honest, everything about this story was weird.

Karla looked up from her laptop, “What was Goulson being convicted of again?”

“Taking bribes from the Irish Mob, embezzling,” Amelie shrugged, “A few other things. The usual white-collar crimes. Nothing fancy.”

“What if Goulson wasn’t actually the target?” Karla nodded, and idea beginning to brew.

Amelie kept quiet, knowing the question wasn’t meant to be answered. She’d seen that look in the eyes of many good journalists and detectives before, and if she wanted to get something good out of it ,she needed to stay quiet and let Karla think.

“What if he was tailing Goulson, not because he was the target, but because Goulson would lead him to a bigger fish. You said it yourself that Barnes has been targeting scum over the past two years, but what if he’s targeting someone - or something - bigger than just your average scumbag. What if all the people he’s targeted and killed have something in common that has nothing to do with them being an asshole? What if, Goulson being the sole survivor, has nothing to do with your article and more to do with the fact that he doesn’t fit the profile.”

Amelie stopped short, “You’re looking at Barnes like a serial killer…and if we profile him like one instead of a hired hitman then maybe we can we can figure out what his goal is.”

“Exactly!” Karla jumped up a little in excitement, “Something changed two and a half year ago. Maybe we have to change our way of looking at him.”

Weirdly enough, Amelie felt a little uneasy thinking of Sergeant Barnes as a serial killer as opposed to a contracted killer, but she had to admit that Karla was onto something. Even though she’d looked into Barnes’ eyes and hadn’t seen anything remotely emotionless or terrifying, maybe that was what made him such a good killer. Amelie sighed, for once trying to ignore her gut feeling. Evidence mattered more at the moment.

“Amelie?” Karla asked when she’d been silent for too long.

She nodded and motioned for her to go on.

“What do we do now?”

Amelie leaned back on the couch and shut her computer, “Why are you asking me? You’re the one who came up with this theory.”

“But you brought me in,” Karla countered, “You’re in charge.”

She grinned, “Want a piece of advice? Ask for forgiveness, not permission, especially when you’re likely to be denied permission because of who you are. So Karla, tell me, what do we do now?”

Karla took in a deep breath, looked down at her lap then back up at Amelie, “Figure out what else the other victims have in common. Then we figure out who Goulson knows that fits that profile; narrow down another possible target of the Winter Solider’s.”

“Sounds good to me,” Amelie stood and stretched, “You do that. Go home, get a good night’s sleep, figure out what you can and come back to me tomorrow with whatever you’ve got.”

“What are you going to do?” She asked.

“What I should have done a while ago.”

The bar was almost as crowded as it had been on game night, and Amelie was thankful for the anonymity. Not only would she be harder to spot but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be in a Mob bar when it was practically empty.

Any sane person would have told her that tracking down the Winter Soldier again was the most stupid thing she’d ever done, but Amelie knew she wasn’t stupid. Cary had sent her after this story for a reason, whether he knew it or not, and she was going to get it.

Unfortunately, this bar was her only lead, and it wasn’t even a good one. The odds of her running into Barnes here were slim to none, but she thought she’d give it a shot. The bar, although not owned by the Irish Mob, was rumoured to be one of their most frequented because the owner owed them a favour. According to Detective Wilson, this favour meant that whatever went down in the bar never attracted the cops no matter how hard Sam and his partners had tried to get the owner to roll on the members.

Amelie didn’t have a gut feeling about Barnes being here, but it was the only thing she could think of doing. She’d sit here until closing time, trying to glean as much information from all the drunk sources around her, even if she knew most of them wouldn’t know anything.  It would probably mean coming into work the next day bleary eyed without anything useful to go on, but at least she’d know for sure.

By one o’clock, Amelie still hadn’t learned a damned thing. She’d had to shove off a few drunken idiots and had spent far more on drinks than she’d wanted to. The bartender placed a glass of what appeared to be whisky in front of her.

“Which idiot ordered this?” She asked, annoyed, but never one to turn down a free drink.

The bartender tilted his head to the side and she followed his nod to the other end of the bear. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of those piercing blue eyes. How had she missed him? He raised a brow; a silent challenge she knew she had no choice but to accept. Amelie knew she had to walk over there because she hadn’t gotten this far to chicken out now. And also because he was calling her out so publicly and she wasn’t one to back down from a fight.

She slid off the seat, drink in hand and wove her way through the crowd. His eyes never left hers as she leaned against the bar beside him, taking in the layered clothes, loose jeans and an interesting bulge in the right pocket. Even in clothes that were meant to hide him, Amelie hated to admit that he was a handsome man. She supposed she should thank him for talking to her, but she wasn’t about to count her chickens before they were hatched.

But she could thank him for something else, “Thanks for the drink, Sergeant. It wouldn’t happened to be poisoned, would it?”

He let out a sharp breath, “You could take a sip and find out. See if I’ve ruined a perfectly good glass of whisky.”

“I think I will,” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “I don’t think poison is your thing, or ruining perfectly good alcohol for that matter.”

His head tilted slightly, “And what do you think is my kind of thing, Novak?”

“I’m not sure yet,” She took a long, slow sip, “I’m still figuring it out.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” He said slowly, letting the words sink in.

She turned her gaze away, scanning the bottles behind the bar, “I know, I’ve heard your warning.”  

“Have you?” He practically growled, “Because you being here would suggest otherwise.”

“Not hearing and choosing to ignore are two completely different things,” She pointed out, feeling his gaze burning her skin.

“My bad for thinking you were smarter than this,” He whispered, suddenly so close, he was all she was aware of.

She turned and almost bumped heads with him, anger flaring. He didn’t know her. None of the assholes who’d said the exact same things to her in their condescending tones had. He had no idea what she was capable of and she was damned sure going to prove him wrong. She was just about to do that but caught herself at the last second, remembering that she needed to have him underestimate her and not the other way around. Amelie couldn’t lose a grip on her act now, not when it was this important.

She smiled brightly, “It’s not my fault you mistook luck for talent. I’m not some incredible journalist that planned and plotted so I could get the story of the year. I got lucky, Sergeant. Maybe they’ll actually move me to the fashion column now.”

“It’s good, Novak, really,” His lips pulled into a feral grin, “The act is almost believable. But-”

“But,” She interrupted, turning so that she could lean her elbows back against the bar, trying her best at a flirty stance, “You’re far too talented to believe that someone could find you and your target by luck alone. Right?”

A small breath escaped his lips, the grin dropping into something a little more genuine, “Interesting change in tactic, but I’m not fooled. How about I talk to the real Novak? I need her to hear this.”

“I am the real Amelie,” She lied, batting her lashes.

He shook his head and took a step back, “I think I should be offended.”

“Now why’s that?” She pouted.

“Because you think, like everyone else, I’m gullible enough to believe that little act you put on,” His hands dropped to the bar on either side of her, caging her in. He leaned in close and whispered, “But believe me, Novak, I’m not like any of the other men you’ve ever met.”

She shivered but refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had any sort of effect on her. There was a reason she’d come here tonight, and she wasn’t about to forget it.

When he leaned back with an infuriating smirk on his lips, she brought a hand up to cup his face, the stubbled jaw scratchy beneath her palm, “Unlike any man…so that must mean you understand women almost better than they understand themselves, right?”

“I wasn’t talking about that,” He inched closer, “But if that’s what you got from it then who am I to call you a liar?”

“What I got from it,” She paused, her hand sneaking around to the nap of his neck, fingers raking though his long hair. Flirting with death was a lot more agreeable than she would have thought, “Is that you’re the man who has the power to prove me right.”

His expression went cold, “Why are you here, Novak?”

“Who says I’m here for anything other than a drink?” She asked, pressing a little closer.

“I do,” He narrowed those blue eyes, “It’s no coincidence we’ve run into each other three - no, four - times in the past couple days.”

She slid her hand down to his hard chest, tracing small circles with her finger, “In my defence, you broke into my apartment one of those times. All you had to do was ask, you know, I would have let you in.”

“I know you would have,” He grabbed her hand to stop the movement, “All you want with me is to bombard me with questions I’m never going to give answers to.”

She let out a huff, “That’s a shame, though there are other things I could want with you.”

“No, it’s not. Stay out of this before you get hurt,” He ordered.

She shoved him back and scoffed, “Because I’m an innocent little girl? I thought you said that was all an act?”

He shook his head, an expression she couldn’t read on his face, “It is, but it doesn’t change the fact that if you keep looking into this that you’re going to get hurt.”

“Sounds like another threat,” She snapped, crossing her arms, feeling for the side pocket of her jacket.

He took a step back, stone cold, “Obviously it has to be. The warning didn’t do the trick last time.”

“Fine, Sergeant,” She raised her hands in the air in exasperation, “You want me to drop it? I’ll drop it.”

His gaze raked over her from top to bottom in suspicion, “Somehow I don’t believe you.”

“It’s the truth. I value my life more than a mediocre story that no one really cares about anyways,” She lied, holding eye contact hoping to be as convincing as possible.

He laughed, the sound cold and humourless, “Nice try, but you can’t goad me, remember?”

“Trust me, I remember,” She said, unimpressed, “I’m just letting you know you’re not that special, Barnes.”

He blinked slowly, eyes bright with amusement when they met hers again, “Have a good night, Novak.”

She nodded, “Goodnight Sergeant. Don’t go around killing anyone.”

He didn’t turn back, but Amelie had a feeling he was smiling. Or at least she hoped he was. Because if he was in a good mood, he’d be less like to realize she’d just lifted his hotel key out of his pants pocket.

[dannyphantomisameme]

Lies (One Shot)

Genres: Drama and Comedy

(Links to Fanfiction and AO3)

"Dude hold still." Tucker fumbled with his PDA as he called out to Danny.

"Let's make this quick man." Danny replied. The trio stood in the Manson's backyard on a Saturday evening. The sun was slowly setting, halfway at the horizon, and the sky displayed vibrant colors of pink and orange. They had just finished their assignment for Lancer's class and as usual, the boys were goofing off.

"Ok, and…. Action!" Tucker called out. He was holding his PDA, recording their daily adventures. Danny stood off far in the distance near a tree as Sam sat on her patio overlooking the two boys.

Danny looked around and then shrugged while murmuring "guess I'll die". Suddenly, a bright white ring appeared at his waist and split into two vertically. His dark blue jeans and red and white plaid shirt was replaced by a black and white hazmat suit with neon green accents. He was floating in the air positioned in a typical fighting stance. The atmosphere around the iconic ghost boy became colder.

"CUT!" Tucker yelled and ran up to his best friend. The two high-fived and chuckled as Danny transformed back into his human form, his feet dropping to the ground. Sam face palmed from where she was. Idiots. They’re wasting my time. But then she smiled, ha, I still love these idiots nevertheless.

Sam stood up from her seat and shouted for the boys to come in. They ran up the stairs to the deck and entered back into her home. Sam was the richest person in Amity Park, other than the Fruitloop. They entered a modern kitchen, the black marble table tops matching the pristine white stove and refrigerator. Sam grabbed a vegetarian milkshake from the fridge and 2 soda's for the boys. She passed them over to them and they quickly popped the tabs, the fizzing sound filled the air.

"You guys are so stupid. We have another two hours to submit our video assignment for Lancer and I intend on it being in time." Sam pointed at the other two and they just snickered.

"Well, we may be stupid, but I want to remember the fun times Sam. And Tuck's video diary is the perfect way to record that stuff." Danny smiled his goofy lopsided grin. Gosh he's way too cute. WAIT, snap out of it Sam. He sipped a drink from his can and looked over at Tucker.

"I finished editing it anyways. We can go submit it on your laptop." Tuck said as he leaned back against the fridge door pointing at Sam.

"Ok, lets go to my room." Sam suggested, and they began to walk past the living room. They passed by Sam's grandma watching TV on the huge flat screen and greeted her. They walked step by step up the regal stairs, a grand glass chandelier hanging above their heads.

The walked past the multitude of doors, which contained gold engravings on their fronts to distinguish the rooms. They finally reached a black door and entered the huge gothic room. The walls were painted a dark maroon, filled with posters of bands, and a black four post bed stood in the center. A black dresser was placed off to the side as well as a matching desk. The purple curtains added a contrast to the maroon and black room. Sam's room was neat and organized, no doubt the work of her maid.

The trio plopped onto the bed, Tucker grabbed the laptop sitting on her comforter as Danny leaned back onto the pillows. Sam grabbed a pillow in the shape of a purple bat and hugged it. Danny and Sam started chatting about their other classes while Tucker connected his PDA to the computer and uploaded their assignment to Lancer's website.

Five minutes later Tucker finished submitting their video about the effects of Shakespeare on the field of literature. He let out a sigh of exhaustion, he knew his friends felt just as tired as him. They had been up last night fighting off Technus. That ghost can never get a break.

"And… done!" Tucker said as he threw up his hands in accomplishment. Danny and Sam patted him on the back for completion.

"Let's go watch a movie. I'm so tired and I don't feel like doing anything." Sam spoke as she hugged her pillow tighter.

"I call horror!" Danny raised his arm as he shouted. Tucker groaned, he hated horror. He was into drama, comedy, or his favorite, sci-fi.

"Yes! I need a good scare, but it's not that I find horror movies spooky." Sam said as she raised her fingers in the universal sign of 'boo'. The trio began to head downstairs again, grabbing snacks along the way.

The movie lasted two hours and Tucker was curled up into a ball by the end. I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight, am I? he thought. Danny and Sam mocked him, calling him a 'scaredy-cat'. Finally, the trio decided to have a sleepover at Sam's, so they grabbed their sleeping bags out of the closet. They talked for a while in Sam's room, the conversation jumping around from topic to topic. Finally they all fell asleep. The last sound heard was the snores of the trio as they slipped into their dreams.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Danny hurried through his shower. He quickly grabbed his towel and ran into his room, searching for his clothes. He found a pair of khaki joggers and a baby blue t shirt in his hamper and put them on. No time for the sniff test. He grabbed his backpack and stuffed his homework inside. I actually finished it for once. He ran out of his room, slammed the door, and slipped down the banister of the stairs. He grabbed a piece of toast from the table and greeted his parents.

"Hi mom, hi dad. Bye mom, bye dad." He stuttered out through his rush. He didn't wait for a reply and dashed out the door. He ran all the way to Tucker's, where his other two friends were waiting.

"Man, can you ever be on time?" Tucker asked as he crossed his arms in annoyance.

"S-sorry" Danny panted out through his harsh breathing. Running a couple of blocks in 4 minutes was tiring, even with his super speed. Sam chuckled at his disorganization and hasty appearance.

"Danny you look like death." Sam replied, still laughing and Danny just shrugged. They began walking towards the school where it would take another 10 minutes to reach it.

"Well I'm technically halfway there." Danny smiled, he was happy for reaching his friends before they embarked on their path to school. He was usually late, either from sleeping in or the freaking box ghost showing up in the middle of his shower (it was extremely tough to catch the nuisance while holding up a towel wrapped around his lower half to prevent it from falling).

They continued to talk and laugh as they walked to school. They finally reached the open double doors and walked in with other students. They turned right towards their lockers, going to Danny's, Sam's, and Tucker's respectively to grab their supplies. Students chatted as the trio passed by them, standing by their lockers. Once the three had their supplies they walked down to Lancers English classroom, chattering among themselves all the while. Immediately Lancer stood up as the trio entered the classroom, a nervous look on his face.

"Mr. Fenton, Ms. Manson, and Mr. Foley, the principal would like to speak to you three. Please head down there before class begins." He gestured towards the door awkwardly, unlike his usual sharp movements.

The three passed questioning glances towards each other, turned around, and headed towards Principal Ishiyama's office.

"What do you think this about?" Sam asked her best friends as she crossed her arms. Frustration rose in her being for being sent to the Principals for no specific reason.

"Probably my constant tardiness." Danny said as he shrugged. He nonchalantly walked as he shoved his hands into his pocket. He had been sent to the Principal's office quite often by Lancer for being late, so he thought this would be the same. Tucker just stared straight ahead, no doubt lost in thought about their possible encounter ahead.

The reached the principals office and swung the door open to enter. Mrs. Ishiyama was in her seat scrolling furiously through her computer. She looked up and saw 3 faces of confusement staring right back at her.

"Oh sorry, I didn't notice you there, please take a seat." She gestured to the 4 chairs in front of her desk and the trio sat down reluctantly and silently. "There have been some complications regarding your… um, project." She grabbed the remote on her desk and aimed it towards the TV, turning it on. Immediately the news station flashed and a familiar woman appeared, sitting at a desk.

"Good Morning Amity Park. My name's Tiffany Snow and I'm here to bring you the town's latest news." How did their project relate to the news? Danny thought. "Saturday night, Amity Park's resident teenager, Tucker Foley, uploaded a shocking video that may or may not change this town's beliefs." How is Shakespearean literature revolutionary? "Here's the video that may change you forever."

A video played on screen. Danny was standing by a tree and someone off camera had called action. Dread poured through Danny's body as he realized what the video was. The color drained from his face. The camera focused on Danny as he shrugged and muttered "guess I'll die", but then what happened next was shocking. A bright light flashed around his waist, and in place of Danny Fenton was Amity Park's greatest hero for 4 years, Danny Phantom.

Danny stopped breathing. He didn't know what to think other than the video replaying through his mind. He wasn't ready for the world to know, not everyone accepted him yet, especially his parents. I'M GOING TO KILL TUCKER… was the next thing Danny thought. Sam's head was in her hands and Tucker sat slack jawed staring at the TV.

The video ended and Danny was speechless, so were his friends. Principal Ishiyama turned the TV off and faced the trio, a nervous expression across her face.

"Is it true?" their principal squeaked as she sat back down in her desk.

"O-OF COURSE NOT! I-I mean, we uploaded the wrong video… uh, its an animation?" Danny said it as if it were a question and Sam stepped on his foot. "Ow-I mean I'm a HUGE fan of Danny Phantom and Tucker here is really good at animations." Tucker nodded aggressively at his side, mouth zipped in a tight line. "It almost looks real right? Hehe…" Danny nervously chuckled and hesitated to look his principal in the eye. He fidgeted with his hands and slowly looked up at the woman in front of him.

"Well I believe you. The graphics seemed somewhat inaccurate anyways." Danny almost shouted a 'hey' in defense, but decided against it and kept his mouth shut. "Your video has caused quite the commotion nevertheless. I've been receiving calls left and right since early this morning. I will inform the press about the video being a mishap. I would suggest that you upload the correct video this time, understood?" The three nodded vigorously. "Ok, you are dismissed. Please return to your first period classes."

The trio stood up and shuffled out of the office. Danny had to put so much effort into not lashing out at Tucker as they exited. Stragglers in the hallway stared at the trio as they stormed down the hall, no doubt having already seen the news.

They found the janitor closet that the typically went in when they wanted to discuss in secrecy. Danny phased them through the locked door and almost screamed at Tucker in reflex, but glared daggers at him instead. The anger within him simmered as his eyes flashed a ghostly green. Tucker gulped in fear.

"D-dude, I'm so sorry. I didn't know I uploaded the wrong video." Tucker said as he pinched his eyebrows together in an apologetic expression.

"Before you lash out Danny," Sam interjected, placing her arm between the two boys, "It's equally our fault for not checking the video after he posted it. You can't blame him. We avoided the issue anyways. You said it was an animation and people will believe it." Sam pleaded returning her hand to her side.

"Fine," Danny muttered as he crossed his arms and leaned against the shelf by the wall. "Lets just get to class, I don't need this now." They unlocked the closet door and exited the small space. They walked back to the classroom in silence, Danny leading them as he stomped in fury. Luckily, no one was in the halls.

They knocked on the door and Lancer was startled to see the trio as he answered. "You're back? Please take your seats." He opened the door fully and gestured towards the back of the classroom. The other students stared at Danny as he sat in his seat, and Danny just looked annoyed. Before Sam could shout at her classmates to back off, Danny beat her to it.

"It was an animation. I'm not phantom…" he rolled his eyes and threw his arms into the air in frustration. Students began whispering and Danny could hear everything they said through his heightened ghost hearing.

I knew Fenturd couldn't be Phantom, he's to wimpy. And he's a freak.

Phew, for a second there I thought I had a crush on the geekiest kid in school.

Ha ha. He wishes he could be Phantom. He's got muscles!

It's impossible for a human to be a ghost, right?

That's what Danny thought, until he became half ghost.

"Quiet students. I guess we've all seen the news and it was just a small mishap, right Mr. Fenton?" Lancer calmed down his students as he looked over to Danny who nodded and sunk down in his seat. Students were still staring at him and he almost banged his head on the desk in annoyance.

Lancer began to pull up students' assignments and displayed them on the screen. Students watched the board as it broadcasted their fellow classmates informing them about Shakespearean literature. The final video was the trio's work. Tucker must have submitted the correct video during class because the last video started with a mini play of Romeo and Juliet, acted by Danny and Sam respectively.

Finally the bell rang as the video neared its end and Danny ran out of the classroom. He didn't even wait for Sam and Tucker. He raced to the bathroom across the hall and locked himself within a stall. He didn't want to deal with the students in the hallway. Eventually Tucker found him and knocked on the door to his stall.

"Dude, you alright? You looked like hell was chasing you." Tucker asked in a concerning voice.

Danny put his head in his hands and rubbed his face in irritation. "That's because it is. I can't deal with everyone looking at me like that. I don't need this attention." He said as he got up and cracked the door of the stall slightly, peering out the sliver of space. Tucker stared back at him shaking his head.

"Get out, scaredy-cat. Just brush them off, their opinions don't matter. If you need to prove to them that it's fake, you can duplicate yourself and be Fenton and Phantom at once, kay?" Tucker pulled him out of the stall and they both went over to the sink to wash their hands.

"Whatever dude." Danny replied, but in reality, the reassurement from Tuck made him feel better. They both dried their hands and left the bathroom. The leftover 3 minutes of passing time was spent walking off to their calculus class, silence overwhelming the two. They met up with Sam and entered the classroom.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The rest of the school day went by quickly. Students stared and whispered at the trio all throughout the day, but Sam sent venomous glares to anyone who did, shutting them up. The three left the school together and walked to Tucker's and then split. Danny waved goodbye at his friends and headed home. Cars passed by and few citizens stopped to watch the teen walk and ask questions.

Danny was going to go insane. People would not stop pestering him, he couldn't catch a break. When he neared his home, he almost raced back in the opposite direction. News vans and reporters had gathered by his front door. The crowd consisted of at least 50 people. He thought of going invisible, but people would suspect something. So, he ran. Straight ahead.

He sprinted right through the crowd while they shouted questions at him. He felt as if his ear drums would burst due to all the noise affecting his heightened ghost hearing. He pushed through the people and finally reached the door. He twisted the handle. Locked, figures. Can't let the ghosts in. He ran to the other side of his yard and hopped over the fence. It was quite a tall wooden picket fence which would work in his favor, blocking out the crowd. Although he might give more evidence towards his increased agility and strength for the reporters, oh well. He got to the other side and dashed to the back door. It was locked as well. He fumbled for his keys through the mess in his backpack. He glanced up and noticed people trying to hop over the fence but having trouble. Yes. He found his keys, unlocked the door, and slammed it just as he got inside. He locked it from the inside and leaned his back against the door.

He let out a huge sigh of relief, just barely escaping the mob of news reporters. He looked up and saw a pair of furious parents. Oh shit. He forgot about them.

"Explain." His mother demanded. Her expression showed anger as well as sympathy. Her father displayed a little less anger than his mother, but disappointed nonetheless.

"Well, um…" Danny hesitated, "It's just an animation. You caught me… I'm just a fan of Phantom. It was created by Tuck… We accidentally uploaded the wrong video for our assignment in Lancer's class." The information poured out of Danny as he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, a nervous habit he needed to get rid. His parents were a silent for a second too long, Danny was sure they would see through his lies.

"Danny-boy! You scared us! We really thought you were the ghost boy when we saw the news!" his father boomed as he grabbed Danny in a bear hug. CAN’T. BREATHE.

"You need to be more careful when you submit your assignments young man. You really scared the entire town, and us. There's no reason for you to like that horrible ghost anyways. " His mother said as Danny winced. She hugged him next, possibly tighter than her husband. RIBS. BREAKING.

"Ok, sorry," Danny said as his mother released him and he straightened his shirt "but now people are following me. There's a MOB outside our front door." He crossed his arms in frustration.

"Yes, well we told them to leave, but they insist on getting an interview or something. Since then, we just let them be. Everyone knows it was an animation; Mrs. Ishiyama made it clear and concise in her interview. I'll try again." His mother suggested as she turned and grabbed a bazooka off the table.

She walked to the door, opening it while aiming her gun out at the crowd. She shut the door behind her and yelled something along the lines of 'Don't swarm my baby' and 'I'll shoot', but Danny didn't care to listen. He was more focused on going to his room and lying down.

He dragged his half dead body up the stairs and entered his room. It was messy since he never cleaned it. He threw his backpack onto his desk and plopped down onto his bed. His eyes had just begun to close in defeat to sleep when he heard a ringing.

Danny groaned and got up hazily, shuffling over to his backpack. Tucker was calling in their group chat on Skype. Danny answered groggily. "Hello?" Sam was already on the call looking at something off camera.

"Dude turn your TV on, its crazy." Tucker said rapidly. Danny moaned and reached for the remote on his desk and pressed a red button.

The TV fizzled to life and displayed the news channel. What Danny saw almost made his eyes fall out of their sockets. Vlad Masters was standing behind a podium on the camera next to some bulky item underneath a white sheet.

"-fternoon Amity Park citizens. There has been a mass amount of commotion regarding a video posted by Tucker Foley on his teacher's website. As majority of you may already know, the video displayed Daniel Fenton transforming into Danny Phantom, our iconic ghost hero." Vlad's face twisted slightly at the word hero. "Daniel claimed this video to be an animation created by Tucker Foley, but when my experts checked the video for digital tempering, no evidence was seen. Although I know this boy very well, I propose that we should not trust this teen to tell us his secret identity, hence the secret. I am holding an immediate town meeting to solve this issue as soon as possible as to reduce the commotion created by this mishap. At 6pm, please join us at Town Hall for a grand reveal." And with that, the screen switched back to the news station.

Danny turned his TV off and almost threw his remote across the room. Fuck it. He chucked the remote across the room in fury. It hit the wall and broke into pieces. Danny blasted it with an ectoblast for good measure. His hands ran through his long raven hair. I'M GOING TO DESTROY THAT FUCKING FRUITLOOP INTO PIECES. He heard someone call his name. Right, his friends.

"DANNY!" Sam yelled through her phone "LISTEN TO ME! If, and only IF, Vlad exposes you, it will all be fine. People already somewhat accepted you. You're fine Danny." Danny could see Sam trying to hide her nervous look through the call.

"Plus, what could Vlad possibly do to reveal your secret?" Tucker added and Danny groaned.

"You just JINXED it, Bad Luck Tuck. Fuck." Danny argued as he got up and started pacing. His hands roamed through his hair, his mind wracking for a solution to his possible revelation.

"Sit down Danny," Sam demanded, and he plopped onto his bed immediately, "Ok, lets meet at Town Hall in 10 minutes. The meetings in 20 minutes giving us ap-"

"DANNNYYYY!" his mother called him from downstairs and cut off Sam.

"COMING!" Danny shouted out his door and returned back to his friends "Ok let's meet there, see ya guys." Danny ended the call and ran down the stairs, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "What?" he said to his mom as he swung across the stairs into the kitchen.

"Vlad has called a –"

"A town meeting, I know. I was just about to tell you. We gotta get going or we're going to be late. I have a feeling I'm the star of the show." Danny rolled his eyes and grabbed his mom's wrist and pulled her towards the garage as his dad followed them.

"I don't know why Vlad would doubt you. You always tell the truth." Danny's mother said as she pressed the button on the wall to open the garage door. Danny grumbled something inaudible under his breath. His mother knew of Danny's distaste for her colleague, but she didn't think too much of it.

They all hopped in the car and Danny began to sweat. He was nervous, really nervous. His phone started to ring, vibrating in his pocket. He fumbled to retrieve it and finally answered. "Hey Jazz."

"Hey Danny. I saw the news, you've made national television little bro. Great job." Jazz said as she chuckled.

"Glad to hear Harvard gets to know about the town screwup. Well, Vlad called a town meeting to quote on quote fix this situation once and for all. We're heading there right now."

"Good luck. You don't know what Vlad could be hiding under his sleeve. You need to be careful before you reveal everything."

"I know, thanks Spazz."

"Hey! Should I call you-"

"NO!" Danny's parents looked at him at the sudden outburst of noise. He mumbled back to Jazz "Don't you dare mention it…" He could hear Jazz laughing on the other side.

"Well I need to get ready for my lecture class. I had some free time and I thought I could call. Good luck little bro, you'll need it."

"Thanks Jazz, talk to you later." Danny cut the call and slouched in his seat. He let out a sigh, today had been a long day, and it was about to get longer, hopefully not.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The red sedan began to slow as it neared the huge Grecian like building. A sizeable crowd had begun to form, consisting of a variety of people. Danny spotted his two best friends near their parents at the back of the crowd. Danny got out of the car, along with his parents, and walked up to his friends, shoving his hands into his pocket. People watched as the raven-haired boy walked past them, some staring furiously at being entangled in the teen's mistake.

Sam and Tucker, who were whispering to each other, finally noticed Danny walking towards them. They looked at him with guilt. Guilt because the situation was something they could have avoided. Guilt because they could have prevented this with one simple deletion of the video from the beginning.

"Hey Danny, you ready?" Sam asked. It seemed she didn't have a plan this time. Shit.

Danny shrugged "Let's just get this over with. I just have a sick feeling that somethings not going to go right." He whispered towards his friends. His stomach was churning within him, the feeling of dread overwhelming his mind and body. Usually when Danny felt something was going to go down, shit was going to go down.

Vlad Masters, mayor of Amity Park, entered from the town hall building behind a podium. He walked stiffly with confidence and Danny gulped, his tension increasing. I'm screwed, aren't I? Vlad tapped the microphone on the podium for attention.

"Good evening Amity Park citizens. I would like to start immediately as to not use up too much of your time. Would Daniel Fenton please join me on this stage?" Vlad said his name in a fake sweet voice as he turned towards Danny, eyes flashing red, only noticed by the other halfa.

Cameras from news stations as well as people turned behind them to see the youngest Fenton child. The crowed glared at the teenager as he sulked to the front of the crowd. Finally, Danny walked up the small set of stairs and joined Vlad on the stage, giving him the death glare.

Vlad mouthed 'ooh the scary eyes' and Danny rolled his eyes. "Please have a seat Daniel". Danny muttered some incoherent swear and sat down on the chair next to Vlad.

"Ladies and gentleman, in order to determine the question that is tearing our beloved city apart, I present you with the D.A.L.V. Corp lie detector!" Vlad exclaimed as he removed a white sheet covering the machine by his side. People 'oohed' and 'awed' in the background. Danny almost facepalmed, he was done for.

But what if it's a defective machine? Like, do they even make lie detectors that are 100% accurate? There was no telling what Vlad could pull out of his sleeve. Danny looked over to his best friends for any signal of help, but Sam and Tucker were both dumbstruck as he was.

Vlad swerved over to Danny as he displayed a devious smile. Danny wanted to curl up into a ball and simmer in his depression, but he just glared daggers at Vlad. 'Fruitloop' he mouthed and Vlad rolled his eyes and turned towards the audience.

"And now, for the final reveal! Daniel Fenton… do you lead a secret double life as Danny Phantom?" Vlad stretched the sentence out and took his time emphasizing each word. Danny didn't know what to answer. What if the machines broken? What if he wants me to reveal myself? Is this all a trick?

Danny's wild eyes darted left to right as thoughts raced through his mind. He looked to his best friends who only shook their heads. What do they even mean? He looked at his parents, who held equally clueless looks as him. Here goes.

"I-I- I'm not the ghost boy." Danny said loud enough for the microphone to pick up his voice as he looked at his feet. The tension in the air rose as everyone went silent. No one dared to talk while the machine operated.

CALCULATING… CALCULATING… The machine said in a robotic voice. INCORRECT, IT IS A LIE.

Gasps and shouts originated from the crowd, but the loudest shout became the only word running through Danny's mind. Freak. Freak. Freak… Danny panicked, he didn't know if he should stay or run. Vlad only smirked his typical grin and he mouthed towards Danny 'I win'.

In the heat of the moment Danny did the only thing he could do: transform and fly away. Some people screamed, other shouted, most just stood in silence in shock. His parents looked like they wanted to die. His best friends were devastated. Danny went invisible and flew away.

The last thing he heard was Vlad exclaiming to the crowd "SEE?! We cannot trust 17 year old boys to tell us the truth. Danny Fenton is… Danny Phantom!"

"Danny!" Sam shouted to keep Danny at bay, but she was too late. He was already gone. But Sam had a feeling as to where he was headed. She whispered something to Tucker and they both took off, sprinting towards the edge of town.

"Sammykins!" Sam's mother called after her, arm outstretched as if to grab her child, but Sam was too far to hear. The two sped off into the distance as the sun began to set on the horizon.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Quick Tucker, check inside! I'll stand guard outside just in case." Sam shouted through her cupped hands and ran to the opposite side of the bridge. The trio had created an emergency shelter in case of, well emergencies. It was hidden under the bridge, making it almost impossible to enter. Almost.

Tucker slid down the hill, careful to not slip into the creek underneath the bridge. He found the rock path the trio hid underneath the rushing water and he slowly tiptoed on them, careful to keep balance. He finally reached the end where he was now underneath the bridge. He opened a hatch to a metal door and crawled in.

Inside it was dimly lit except for the small green glow in the corner. Stashed near one wall was clothing and food while a dark shadow sat stifling a sniff by the other wall.

"Danny? Dude?" Tucker called out. There was enough space for the two of them to sit crisscrossed. Danny slowly turned towards his friend, his facial features displaying pure devastation. Tears threatened to overflow from his neon green orbs. He was in ghost form. Tucker quickly crawled up to him and hugged him tightly. Tucker felt a pang of pity for his best friend; he wasn't ready to be revealed. The world wasn't ready for him to be revealed. "You okay man?"

"I- I'm fine." Danny said as he wiped his eyes. He couldn't take the tension that had risen at the town meeting. Tucker quickly called for Sam, and she came barging into the enclosed space within seconds. She repeated the same actions as Tucker, crawling up to Danny and hugging him. She ruffled his hair as well.

"One day that statement will get you killed." Tucker replied to Danny's earlier remark. Danny chuckled lightly, but it was still evident that he was in ruins.

"Did you hear what they called me… a – a freak. Am I a freak to you? Don't answer t-that. But my parents… the look of horror on their faces… I – I couldn't." Danny said as he broke down with tears again. Danny never cried.

"Dude, don't say that. They all just need to accept the facts. Remember the reality gauntlet disaster? You will be fine. We promise." Danny didn't reply to Tucker's confirmation, he stayed silent. Sam placed her hand on Danny's back and began rubbing for comfort.

"W-what do we do n-now?" Danny whispered quietly. He tilted his head down and stared at his scuffed white boots. He quickly transformed back into human form when he realized he was still a ghost. Tucker shielded his eyes with his arm from the bright flash. Danny's bangs hung downwards, covering his face. "I'm going to be swamped by people, both Fenton and Phantom. People didn't even like me before they knew I was half human. Now they're going to HATE me." Danny ran his hands through his hair, his head throbbing In pain from the incoming headache. "I have to confront my parents too…"

"Danny… wait." Sam paused, thinking for a few seconds. "How about we let the situation die down for a day or two? Then you can return to your normal life, well it wasn't like it was normal in the first place. We just need to hide for now." Sam suggested, trying to sound optimistic.

"Yea, yea that sounds reasonable. You won't have many questions to answer once the situation deescalates." Tucker said, offering his response. The two looked at Danny for his reply.

"S-sure." Danny stuttered. "B-but how?"

"Ooh! I got it!" Tucker offered and continued "Your parents made a recent invention that quote: changes a ghost's appearance unquote. But it doesn't physically hurt them, so they threw it out. We can use that to change your appearance. That way you can still go to school and live normally as a new student for a day or two without people bothering you." Tucker crossed his arms in confidence, happy he came up with such a reasonable idea.

"And… how do you know this?" Danny questioned.

"I- uh. Hehe, I keep a list of all your parents' inventions on my PDA. This just helps me to know which gadgets to stay clear off and which ones we can use to fight off ghosts." Tucker stuttered as he explained. Sam sent a questioning glance towards his way, but he brushed It off.

"Let's do it as soon as possible." Sam added as she began to crawl out.

"Never thought I'd be sneaking into my own house. Wow." Danny said as he grabbed his friends' by the waist, turning the trio intangible and flying them through the door.

They flew out under the bridge and went invisible, soaring over the clouds. The sun had almost set by now and the moon was slowly rising. They all enjoyed the flight, the breeze blowing past their bodies. Their bird's eye view allowed them to see the cars passing, the citizens each living their own life. They finally neared the giant orange sign that belonged to the one and only Fenton Works.

They flew intangibly and invisibly to the basement, where the lab was. Danny released his friends and flew upstairs, checking if his parents had come home. Not yet. When Danny came back downstairs, Tucker was holding a silver and green remote with the word Fenton on it.

"You better be glad I found this. I had to dig through the trash for this dumb thing." Tucker joked as he held the remote in the air. "You ready man?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." Danny replied and released a sigh. "Wait, what about you two? This thing doesn't work on humans, and you're going to get mobbed just for knowing me."

"I'll just give people the death glare," Sam said as she shrugged "it seems to work quite often."

"Fair enough." Danny said. Tucker finally pointed the remote towards Danny and pushed a huge red button. A green zap of electricity hit Danny and fizzled out. Danny closed his eyes and when he reopened them, he felt the same.

"Dude, nothing happened." Tucker said defeatedly. "Man, I thought my plan would really work." Just then Danny started to feel weird and he started to smoke.

A green smoke rose of his body and filled the air, blocking the vision of the trio. Finally after a minute of coughing and pushing the green fog away, a different figure stood in front of Sam and Tucker. The latter burst out laughing as the prior stood slack jawed.

Danny had long, straight black locks all the way to his hips. His chest protruded from his plaid crop top and hips jutted out of his skinny jeans, the perfect hourglass figure. His petite feet were disguised by red high-top converse and his face was slimmer. Danny looked down at his body and only one thought came to his mind: "Fuck."

In Danny's place, a female version of his human form stood, examining his body. Laughter erupted from the African American teenager.

"Dude, I mean dudette, ha ha, can't breathe." Tucker wheezed through his continuous laughter. Danny crossed his arms and muttered something incoherent.

"Tucker this is your fault." The unnaturally high pitched voice originating from the new female made Tucker laugh even harder. Even Sam started to chuckle.

"I guess we have to call you Danielle now. Wait, that names already taken." Sam remarked, and Danny just groaned, he was a girl now. Why?!

"This is only for two days, right? I don't think I can last any longer than that." Danny said as he poked his exposed stomach. "Wait, I need a mirror!" Danny ran upstairs and into the bathroom and screamed. He just realized the extent of his changes. He couldn't recognize a single thing about him, except the baby blue eyes staring back at him.

Sam and Tucker came bumbling up the stairs, laughing to the point of joyous tears. Suddenly, the garage door began to grumble. Shit, Danny thought, they’re home. He grabbed his friends and went invisible, flying out of the house and landing on the roof of the Fenton Op Center. He released his friends as he went tangible again.

"DUDE! What do you look like when you transform then." Tucker asked excitedly, bouncing in joy.

"Nope. Not now." Danny quickly said as he twisted to check out his body.

"Well, you are kinda hot this way." Sam said and then blushed when she realized what she said. "I-I mean… you look lie uh… IF YOU EVER BRING THIS UP AGAIN I WILL PERSONALLY SEE TO IT YOUR BOTH FULL GHOSTS." She quickly dropped the point and glared daggers at Tucker who was about to comment. She saw him mouth the word 'lovebirds' and she slapped him across the head. Danny was too busy looking at himself to notice.

"Well, what do I do now? I can't live at my house. My parents will not believe me if I tell them I'm their son… or daughter, whatever. Not like they believe it at the moment though…" Danny added as he sat down on the roof.

"You can come over to my house for a sleepover. I'll tell my parents you're an exchange student from… from England and they'll probably accept you. Right? We can try." Sam suggested and shrugged. She wasn't entirely sure this was an effective plan, but it was the only thing they had now.

"Kay, so I need to go home. My parents are going to yell at me for coming home at," Tucker paused as he pulled out his PDA from his backpack "8:30pm. Yikes, curfew's at 9."

"Ok, I'll drop you off home and then we'll head over to Sam's." Danny said and transformed in reflex. Wait… this isn't right. He looked down and his heroic outfit had completely changed. It consisted of thigh high heeled white boots matched with black slim fitting high waisted leggings, clearly showing off his curves. The DP logo was displayed over his volumptuous chest and white gloves covered his slender arms. His crop top had a small zip on the front, displaying his cleavage. A white collar jutted out from the top. It was like one of those sexy versions of Halloween costumes for females. His snow-white hair flew in the air as though the breeze gushed past him ferociously.

Tucker and Sam burst out laughing, while Danny's green eyes flashed with annoyance. "You know these 'girl' hands can still punch just as hard?" he remarked holding up his fists. That shut his friends up.

Danny then grabbed his friends by the arms and flew into the air, making them invisible. Tucker and Sam mocked Danny's new body throughout the entire flight while Danny stayed silent took the abuse. They reached Tuckers, dropped him off, and headed for Sam's.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

When they reached Sam's, Danny transformed back into his human form and entered through the front door. The duo fled up the stairs to find Sam's parents, passing by a butler who was dusting a glass table holding precious antiques.

"MOOOOM! DAAAAAD! I'm, home!" Sam shouted as they walked up the flight of stairs. Her parents immediately exited their bedroom and ran up to their daughter, hands extended in front of them.

"Sammykins!" They exclaimed as they embraced her. Sam's expression was priceless as she mouthed 'help' through the entanglement of arms. Danny had to take all he had to prevent him from laughing out loud, but his mouth fought with him to smirk. "Who's this Samantha?"

"Hi, I'm… Daisy." Danny said as he held his hand out in a handshake. Her parents shook it while Danny continued to talk. "I'm an exchange student from England. Sam signed up to house me for a few days. Did she not tell you?" He tried to fake expressions as he spoke to Sam's parents like he had never met them before.

"Well it's nice to meet you Daisy. We weren't expecting you. You can stay in the guest bedroom." Sam's mother responded and then she turned towards her daughter.

"Samantha, may we talk to you for a second?" Sam gulped, that wasn't good news. The three quickly walked towards the end of the hall.

"Sammy, what was that at the town meeting? Do you know what happened to that wretched Fenton child?" Sam's father asked her. Both Sam and Danny flinched, Danny could hear with his ghost hearing from the distance.

"Um…" Sam hesitated to answer. What should I say? "Danny's... um Phantom. He's been secretly fighting ghosts for the past 3 years to keep our town safe. I don't know where he went though, he disappeared. But he'll be back. I know he will." Sam said, intermixing truths with lie. Just then, Danny's phone started to ring in his pocket and he looked at the caller ID. Jazz.

"I'm going to take this quickly." Danny said as he walked off towards the edge of the stairs. He answered once he was out of human earshot. "Hey Jazz."

"Who's that? And what are you doing with Danny's phone?" Jazz questioned. She mustn't recognize my female voice.

"Jazz its me, Danny. I-I'm a girl." What the fuck Fenton. Explain. "I mean I zapped myself with one of Mom and Dad's inventions, which by the way was TUCK's idea, and it transformed me into a female." Before Danny could finish, Jazz was already on the other line laughing her ass off.

"Haha, this is way too funny. I wish I could be there. But mom and dad are worried, Danny. They don't know where you are." She said in a concerned voice.

"I-I'm in hiding. I don't want to face anyone right now. I can't deal with the stress. I'm not r-ready." He stuttered. "I'm at Sam's pretending to be an exchange student for a couple of days, or until this transformation wears off."

"Ok, but be careful little bro. You're little scene made national news again. Maybe even international." Danny facepalmed.

"Ok, ok. I'll be going to school tomorrow as a new student. Hopefully, no one will recognize me. It seems like it's working though, we were able to fool Sam's parents."

"LOL. Well I gotta get to bed. I just wanted to check up on you. Stay safe and go back home soon, kay? Also, send me a selfie, it's not every day your little brother becomes your little sister!"

"Yes Spazz."

"Ok L-"

"I said don't call me that!" Danny shouted as he hung up. He shoved his phone into his pocket as Sam and her parents began to approach him.

"Sammy, will you show Daisy where she will be staying? We will finish our conversation later." Sam's mother asked in a sweet tone. Sam nodded in reply and grabbed Danny's hand as they walked to her room.

"Thanks Mrs. and Mr. Manson!" Danny quickly thanked as Sam dragged Danny down the hall. The soft voice that escaped his mouth was still unusual to him. They entered Sam's room and she slammed the door, swerving towards Danny and placing her hands on her hips.

"Who called you?" she asked or more so demanded.

"Jazz. I told her what happened and she… laughed." Danny said as he looked away at the last word.

"Ok. Well I bet you already heard me and my parent's conversation so there's no point in me explaining that."

"Yea."

"Also, you can sleep in my room. Just grab your usual sleeping bag."

"Won't your parents think it's weird?"

"I'm goth, they're not supposed to understand my weird quirks." Danny just rolled his eyes and walked over to Sam's closet. He opened the door and searched for his signature constellation sleeping bag, but it wasn't there.

"Uh, Sam… its not here. Tucker's is also gone." Danny asked as he looked over to his friend. She facepalmed and muttered something incoherent.

"Right, well I told the butler to wash them cause it's they started to get dirty. You know me and being clean." Danny just nodded in return. "Well, I guess we can share my bed then. It's big enough for the both of us. Plus I don't trust you in your own room."

"HEY!" Danny called "I have standards."

"Standards meaning you trash a room the second you enter it? Then yeah, that's exactly what you got." Danny lightly punched Sam in the arm as she chuckled and they both sat on the bed together. They began to talk about possible solutions to their disaster of a situation, slowly nodding off. By 11pm, the two were sleeping snuggly in the gothic bed, the sounds of their snoring filling up the silence of the dark night.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"DANNY! That's the fifth time, wake up!" Sam shouted over the mess of the room. She had thrown her clothes everywhere to find the perfect outfit for Danny while he sat sleeping in her bed. She got up and pushed him off and he tumbled to the floor with a large "bang". "GET YOUR LAZY ASS UP!" Danny let out a small squeak in reply.

"Ouch. Good morning to you too," he said rubbing his back "I'm so tired." He got up off the floor and stretched, yawning. He walked over to the mirror and almost did a double take. Right, I'm a girl.

"Here put this on." Sam said as she shoved some clothes into Danny's arms. Danny looked at the clothes and then looked back at Sam dumbfounded.

"You want me to…" he didn't finish the sentence, but Sam understood. He's too embarrassed to look at his own body. She sighed and told him to close his eyes. She began to remove the jeans and crop top Danny had wore last night and thankfully he had some underneath clothing. She took the dress from his hands and wiggled it over his head. "Can I open my eyes now?"

"Yes." Danny did as he was told, and he immediately went over to the mirror. He was wearing a sleeveless red and black dress, which felt kind of odd due to the openness of his legs. It cinched at his waist and gave him a nice hourglass figure. He looked back at his face and noticed the rats nest that sat upon his head. He went over to Sam's dresser and grabbed her comb, and then began to brush his hair in light strokes.

Danny used to play around with Jazz's hair so he had practice tying it. Once his hair was silky smooth, he began to braid it into one long strand. When he was done he turned to Sam and asked "How do I look?"

Sam was impressed. He did look quite good. She immediately blushed and said "Not bad…"

It was 7 am on Tuesday morning and they had another 30 minutes or so before they needed to meet with Tucker at his house. The two went into Sam's bathroom, brushed their teeth, washed their faces, and Sam began to apply makeup. Danny just sat and watched her do her thing while also admiring himself in the mirror. She tried to put some, eyeliner was it?, on Danny but he dodged each attempt.

Danny noticed the slight muscles on his arms and began to poke them. Tough, he thought.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked looking at him questioningly through the bathroom mirror.

"Look, I have muscles, like my old self." He said pointing to his arm. Sam sighed and continued applying her gothic look. When she finished, the two skidded down the stairs for breakfast. The private chef had made some avocado toast and they quickly shoved it down their throats in silence. After, they headed out the door. Sam had given Danny one of her unused black backpacks for the time being.

They met Tucker at his house and walked to school as they continued their conversation from yesterday. When they finally reached the school, people stared at the trio. Some wondered who the new girl while others sought for the missing piece to the trio, aka Fenton. Danny didn't want to deal with the glares so he walked behind his best friends, using them as shields. When they got inside, they immediately turned towards the principal's office to introduce Danny. He entered first and greeted the principal, followed by Sam with Tucker waiting outside.

"Hello! I'm Daisy." Danny said as he waved at Mrs. Ishiyama. "I-um, I'm an exchange student from England staying here with Sam Manson. I just wanted to introduce myself so you knew I wasn't just some random person, he-he." Danny made up as he rubbed his neck, an old habit of his.

"Ah, yes. Welcome Daisy. I hope you find Casper High quite suiting. I would advise you to follow Ms. Manson to her classes as she can guide you," she said as she glanced at Sam who was standing behind Danny. "Do you know how long your stay here will be?"

"About a day or two, then I'm moving on to another state." He said and tried to smile. It's so hard trying to act as if you know no one, when you really know everyone.

"Ok, Daisy. Have a great day!" she said and Danny replied in fake enthusiasm. He then followed Sam and joined Tucker outside. The trio walked to their respective lockers and grabbed their supplies for their classes. As Danny took out his English notebook, he could hear conversations involving 'Fenton' and 'Phantom'. He decided to listen in on a few.

So, the video was real? How did he keep it a secret for so long?

Gosh who knew Fentonia could be Phantom?

I don't believe it. The ghost boy cannot be that wimpy dork. He's WAY too clumsy.

I hope Fenton comes to school today, I have so many questions. Where is he by the way?

I'm right here, Danny thought. He was glad he wasn't noticeable at the moment. He really didn't want to deal with this mess. He walked back to Tucker's locker, his dress swaying from side to side. Dresses are kind of comfortable. Damn, I never thought I would say that. The day had been ok so far and nothing had gone wrong as of yet.

"Who's the hot girl Foley?" Dash sneered as he walked up to the trio. Ew, he really wanted to punch Dash for calling him hot, but he couldn't risk it right now.

"Hi, I'm Daisy." Danny said as he pretended to be nice, he didn't want to create tensions, just lay low. "I'm an exchange student from England." Every student in the hallway turned to watch the king of Casper High flirt with the cute exchange student.

"Well, what do you say we exchange numbers?" Dash asked in a flirtatious tone. Danny almost threw up. Tucker was laughing so hard at his side while Sam just watched, crossing her arms and smirking in delight.

"I-um, I think I'm good…" Danny stammered in embarrassment as his cheeks swirled in light pink. Dash looked disgusted at the fact of being rejected, but he brushed it off.

"That's alright, you don't know me that well. I'm Dash, captain of the football team. Once you hang out with me, you'll be swooning in no time." he said as he held up his arms to showcase his muscles for Danny. Danny's cheeks transformed into a darker shade of pink.

"S-sure." Was all he could stammer out. Tucker and Sam began to laugh even harder and Dash looked at them with a furious aggression.

"What are ya laughing at Foley and Manson? Say... where's Fenton? I don't believe the little stunt he pulled off yesterday." Tucker just shrugged and clutched his stomach while wiping a fake tear from his eyes.

"We don't know where he is." Sam replied straight faced.

"Lies." Dash said. "He's probably hiding in embarrassment after acting as Phantom. I bet that lie detector malfunctioned too." He remarked quickly then grabbed Danny by the arm.

"Come with me Daisy, I'll show you around the school." He glanced at the other two and frowned "these losers aren't worth your time." He rapidly sauntered off, clutching Danny's arm. Danny squeaked with the sudden pull. He turned back to his friends and mouthed for 'help', but they were too busy laughing their asses off, due to the fact that their friends bully was hitting on him.

The bell rang immediately, and Dash groaned. "Damn it, I forgot about class. I'll show you around after Lancer's class kay?" Dash looked over to Danny in admiration. Danny was a couple of inches shorter than Dash, so he didn't have to look up too much. Did I shrink? I used to be an inch shorter than Dash.

"Um… sure. I have Mr. Lancer first period too." Danny almost smacked his head at his statement. He could have easily gotten away if he had said any other class.

"Coolio." Dash replied and they both walked off to Lancer's classroom. Dash entered first and sat down in his desk while Danny went up to Lancer and introduced himself. Lancer welcomed him and introduced Danny to the class.

"Good morning students, we have a new student here today. This is Daisy, she's an exchange student from England and will be with us for a few days." Danny waved at his classmates and then walked to the back to sit in his usual spot, between Sam and Tucker. The students gazed at Danny as he sat in his seat, then realized what he'd done. Goddamnit, it's a habit. The students turned back towards Lancer and Danny hoped no one would make the connection.

Lancer began to take attendance and only one student seemed to be absent: Daniel Fenton. The class began to murmur about the questioning reveal yesterday and Lancer silenced them immediately. Although he wanted to discuss the events of yesterday, he had a class to teach.

Class went on as usual, Lancer lectured and then gave the students time to work. When Lancer called out 'worktime' for their essays due next week, all the students turned towards Danny and he gulped. He did not want to be the center of attention again. Paulina was the first to speak.

"So, you're from England, right? What's it like there?" she asked questioningly. Danny honestly had no clue as of what to say, he was frozen solid.

"Its- uh, it rains a lot. Um…" he stuttered and tried to make up something "but it's not as fun as visiting America." He looked around at his fellow classmates. They were all staring at him in astonishment. Mikey spoke up next.

"How come you don't have an accent?" Dang, he was good.

"That's a stereotype. Not everyone back home has a British accent." Danny felt accomplished after making up the quick statements. His classmates continued to press him for answers.

"What are your hobbies?"

"I like to draw and play video games."

"What are you interested in?"

"I love the stars and astronomy. I want to be an astronaut in the future. NASA is my goal."

"Who are you staying with?"

"Sam."

"How is your skin so flawless?"

Danny scrunched his nose at that. He had no clue how to answer. "Facial scrubs?" he shrugged, mental note: learn more about ‘girl stuff’ if you're ever in this situation.

The questions continued for a couple of minutes and Danny answered with a constant pace. The bell rang and students filed out of the room as Lancer as reminded them of their homework assignment. Danny quickly escaped with Sam and Tucker at his side before Dash could steal him away. They walked towards the next class: history. The questions asked began to reduce as word spread throughout the school.

At lunch, the A-listers swarmed him and asked him to join their table. After repeated pleading, Danny sat with them and instantly regretted his decision. Dash played footsie under the table the entire time while Paulina talked to him about girl things. He wanted to die, well half die. If they knew he really was, they would immediately scream and run away. Danny could see his friends from the corner of his eye laughing at his misfortune. Oh, they're so in for it.

After lunch, which he ran away from when the bell rang, he went to his algebra class. He and Sam had all the same classes while Tucker took a higher level math class. The class went by smoothly with minor interruptions.

Sam and Danny left class only to go to next one which he had been dreading since morning: gym class. They headed towards the locker rooms, where Danny walked behind Sam, somewhat crouched to hide. He felt so wrong walking in on females changing. He wanted to close his eyes, but he didn't want to seem out of the ordinary.

"Sam I-," he whispered, "how do I change?" they walked to the corner of the room, blocked from the view of other girls. Sam opened her locker and took out her gym clothes and her emergency gym clothes. She looked around the area for peering eyes and sighed.

"Danny it doesn't matter. You're bound to see a girl's body anyway. You're fucking 17 now." She crossed her arms in annoyance. She really didn't want to be the one to dress Danny again. Danny growled and slowly peeled off his clothes as Sam did the same next to him. He turned around so to give Sam some privacy. He put on Sam's gym clothes in haste. Underneath he wore a black lace bra and matching thong. So that’s what’s been giving me this horrible wedgie.

"Nice ass Daisy." Paulina said out of nowhere, passing by the two changing. Danny blushed and remained silent, fumbling to put the t-shirt and shorts on.. Sam snickered beside him and he jabbed his arm into her side when he finished changing.

The two cleaned up and walked out into the gym. Tucker was already standing near the bleachers on his PDA. The two sat beside him and Tucker grinned.

"How was the girl's locker room Danny?" Danny couldn't help but smile, his friend was always cracking jokes.

"Not too bad." He replied but quickly blushed.

"Paulina said he's got a nice ass." Sam said as she grinned her gothic smile towards Tucker. The techno geek began to chuckle as he put his PDA into his pocket. Just then, a shrill whistle blew.

Ms. Tetslaff ordered all the students over to the bleachers. She took attendance and noticed the new student over in the corner. "And who might you be?" pointing to Danny.

"I'm Daisy, an exchange student. I'll be here for a few days." Danny said, accustomed to greeting himself as a female. Ms. Tetslaff just nodded and began to shout instructions. She made them run a mile as warm up outside. "Now I want all of you to stay behind the red line and when I say go, you're going to run to the post over there and back. You're grade depends on how fast you make it back here, got it?" The students nodded in unison and jogged over to the starting line. "GO!"

Danny ran nonchalantly, he wasn't in a hurry or anything and it wasn't like he was being graded. He just jogged with the wind flowing through his hair. He liked the airy breeze against his bare skin, the soothing coolness against his face. He closed his eyes and imagined himself flying through the night sky, starts twinkling overhead. He rounded the pole and headed back. He didn't see anyone in front of him, maybe I'm just being really slow, ha. When he reached Ms. Tetslaff, her mouth was open in shock.

"Daisy, right?" she asked as Danny nodded through his pants. "That was…" she paused and looked at her stopwatch "3 1/2 minutes…"

"Wait, WHAT?!" Danny shouted as Dash came running in 3 minutes later. Dash was breathing hard, but he looked at Danny in surprise. Sam came running in right behind Dash and grabbed Danny by the arm. He yelped as her hot breath whispered in his ear.

"Why did you run so fast?!" she furiously whispered. Danny was astonished; he had been running really slowly in his mind. I blame the wind, it increases your adrenaline.

"Daisy, are you ok?" Ms. Tetslaff asked. Danny just sighed and nodded.

"I run back in England. I'm on the track team." He said, making up even more excuses. Students began trickling in, looking at Danny with stunned expressions. Danny just cowered behind Sam and Tucker for the rest of class, laying back on the ghost enhanced agility. When class was over, he dashed into the locker room, changed, and hid at Sam's locker. Eventually his friends met up with him and were ready to go home. Just then, things got worse.

"Hey Daisy," Dash cooed. "Mind if I talk to you for a moment?" Danny wholeheartedly wanted to say no, but he had to keep up his appearance, he still hesitated. Sam just smiled and nodded for him to go along.

"Umm…" Danny replied, but before he could say anything Dash grabbed his hand.

"I'll take that as a yes." He said and walked Danny to the other end of the hallway. "So, what do you think of Casper High?" he asked as he still held Danny's hand. His palm was sweaty while Danny's was ice cold.

"It's cool," Danny said. He tried to keep his replies short and simple.

"You know, you're a really athletic girl and, I uh- have to ask. What do you think… of me?" Dash said. Danny blushed, his cheeks turning rose pink. Dash was hardcore flirting with his bully victim.

"Um… you're cool…" Danny wanted to wash his mouth with soap. I can't believe I just said that. He wanted to erase the memory from his mind but the most horrifying experience of his life was about to begin. Dash leaned towards him, closing his eyes and puckering his lips while and Danny literally just stood there frozen in fear. Dash was about to place his lips on Danny for only a second until Danny moved. His mind was telling him to dodge the romance, so he quickly punched Dash in the face with little exertion. Dash clutched his face in agony and backed off. Danny speedily ran out of sight, hiding behind a corridor where a single student couldn't be found.

Danny's heart was pounding in his chest at the terrifying encounter. I was almost kissed by Dash. BY DASH. Tucker was going to have a good laugh at this one. He could hear Dash shouting in the distance as Danny crouched down in fear. So much for appearances, he thought.

Eventually, Sam and Tucker found Danny sitting on the floor rocking back forth, with his knees up to his chin and wide eyed. He was scarred for life. The way Dash leaned forward, eyes closed, lips puckered…

Tucker was having a great time at Danny's expense. "Oh man… that… that was good! I got… got it on my PDA!" he said through his laughter. His stomach and cheeks started to ache with this day's humor. Sam jabbed him in his side, hinting at him to stop.

"Danny let's go. You really took a number out of Dash though, his nose was bleeding." Sam said through her smile; she also found this situation quite comical. She stuck out her hand and Danny grabbed it as she pulled him up. They began to walk out of the school as leftover students stared at them. Luckily, Dash had left for afterschool football practice so Danny didn't have to see him. They walked back to Sam's home, conversing about ghosts and school.

Danny realized as they neared Sam's house that no ghosts had appeared today. He didn't want to jinx it so he kept quiet. At Sam's house, they grabbed a couple of snacks and headed downstairs to watch a movie. Halfway through the movie the doorbell rang.

A minute later, Sam's grandma called for the trio to come upstairs. Sam grabbed the remote, paused the movie, and the three ran up the stairs to the main door. When they saw who was at the door, they almost dashed back downstairs. Danny's heart started to race, pounding in his chest. He hoped he wouldn't notice him.

Vlad Masters, mayor of Amity Park, stood at the doorway, his suit crispy, clean, and black. His hands were behind his back and his face was neutral. "Ms. Manson, may I speak with you for a moment, you too Mr. Foley." he paused and his eyes darted towards Danny, confusion crossing his face. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Daisy. An exchange student…" Danny said rapidly in defense. Danny held out his hand "Nice to meet you, uh…"

"Mayor Masters. Welcome to Amity Park." Vlad said in a sweet tone. So he doesn't recognize me. YES! Danny smiled internally. "I just need a moment with you two." Vlad returned back to his neutrality as he pointed to Danny's friends. They followed him onto Sam's porch. Danny stayed behind; ready to return back downstairs when someone touched his arm.

Sam's grandma sat in her motorized wheelchair and told him to wait. "Danny how are you holding up?" she said with a grin on her face.

"Wait – h-how? What?" Danny was shocked and confused. How did she figure it out?

"You look the same. It isn't hard to tell, at least if you pay attention." She said as she winked.

"I- uh, I'm good." He replied to her earlier question. H didn't know what to think. He knew Sam's grandma was smart, but this convinced him that she had some sort of psychic powers.

"Stay safe kiddo." Danny nodded and smiled in reply. Sam's grandma patted his back and he went back downstairs. His mind raced through thoughts on where he went wrong, was I giving away too much?

AT THE SAME TIME

"What do you want Vlad?" Sam ordered as she crossed her arms and glared ferociously.

"You know what I want. Where's Daniel?"

"After the stunt you pulled yesterday, he's long gone. We couldn't find him" Tucker replied in anger.

"Don't play dumb with me child. You two would be the only ones to know where he could possibly be. He's hiding, isn't he?"

"You know, Danny could pull a Vlad and reveal your secret?" Sam said in a sly smile as she pointed her finger slowly at the older halfa.

"I don't need this!" Vlad shouted and stomped his foot. "Tell me where he is NOW." He demanded as his eyes flashed a glimpse of red.

"Why do you need him anyway? He's out of town." Tucker said and then clamped his hand on his mouth, as if he revealed a secret.

"Which town!?" Vlad shouted as he towered over Tucker. Tucker just shrugged with a neutral expression. Vlad let out an irritated growl and stomped back to his limo. He hopped in the back seat and left speedily.

Sam and Tucker looked at each other, high-fived at their acting skills, and then skipped back inside. They met Danny in the movie theater-like basement. Danny immediately started to explain his encounter with Sam's grandmother followed by Sam and Tucker's explanation of Vlad's annoyance.

They erupted in laughter after both explanations and finished the movie. The day ended same as yesterday: Tucker left for his home and Danny slept over at Sam's. As they did their homework, they began to fall asleep and ultimately ended up passed out on Sam's bed.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The morning routine began same as yesterdays as well. Sam woke Danny up, they got ready, ate breakfast, met with Tucker, and headed for school. Today, Danny wore a blue off the shoulder crop top, showing off his slight toned abs, paired with black skinny ripped jeans with his signature red high top converse. He let his hair out today, its silky-smooth strands meeting his hips and swaying back and forth as he moved. Sam wore a purple t-shirt paired with black leggings and thick combat boots. Tucker wore his usual yellow turtle neck, green cargo pants, red beret, and brown timberland boots.

The trio conversed about other students and recent gossip surrounding the school. The biggest event was Danny's revelation, but they ignored that fact. When they reached the school, students stared again. Danny cupped his hand over his face as if he was hiding behind it. He walked behind his friends and he could feel all the eyes burning holes into his body. He didn't stop at his locker, in fear of being cornered by Dash again. He followed Sam and she grabbed her textbooks from her locker. Just then, a huge, muscular figure placed his hand on Danny's shoulder. Danny jumped a little in response and turned around.

Dash stood there, with a white bandage covering his nose. "Daisy…" he started. Danny waited for a punch to the face, half closing one eye and keeping the other open, but "- you're strong. You're like THE PERFECT girl…" Danny puked in his mouth and swallowed it back down. WHAT. THE. FUCK. Can't this man get a hint?

"Um…" Danny stood there. He really, really, REALLY, didn't want to reply. Sam was laughing her hardest next to him. He jabbed his elbow into her side, but she continued as if the shove didn't affect her. Before Danny could move Dash grabbed him by the waist… and… and…

KISSED HIM. THE DUMBASS THAT WAS DASH FUCKING KISSED HIM. Danny's eyes widened, and he wanted to race the hell out of here, but he was frozen in Dash's tight grip. Dash pushed harder and asked entrance into Danny's mouth through his tongue. Danny puckered his lips tight and stomped on Dash's foot. Dash yelped backwards in pain and Danny dashed out and into Lancer's classroom. He could hear Dash's cry for wait and something about it being 'the best kiss ever'.

He was hyperventilating as he sat down in his seat. He shuffled through his backpack and found a water bottle and downed the whole thing. Lancer looked over questioningly and Danny smiled innocently as Lancer returned to his computer unfazed.

Tucker and Sam came running into the classroom, doubling over in laughter. Yeah, laugh your asses off at my expense. Danny banged his head on his desk and left it there until the bell rang.

Dash entered the room after the bell rang and sent Danny a flirtatious wave. Danny wanted to stab himself and become full ghost. Sam and Tucker had huge grins and sent Danny kisses as if mimicking Dash.

"Good morning class, happy Tuesday. Please say here as I say your name for attendance." Lancer said. Again, everyone's name had a check mark beside it except for Daniel Fenton on his attendance sheet. Lancer hoped his student was okay. "Ok class," he said as he put down his clipboard "today we are going to –" a wisp of blue escaped Danny's mouth. No. No. No. No. Danny's hand shot up in the air. Lancer sighed, "yes Daisy?"

"Can I go to the restroom please?" Danny asked sweetly, he wanted to escape this hell hole anyways.

"Yes, but go quickly." Lancer continued his announcements as Danny left the classroom. Closing the door, he looked left and right and didn't see any ghost. He walked to the girl's bathroom and entered a stall. Transforming invisibly, he flew through the ceiling and onto the school roof. A robotic ghost stood holding a huge blaster, green flaming hair flying in the wind.

Skulker immediately scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, then widened his eyes in realization. The sexy phantom that stood in front of him was none other than Danny, just female version. He started to snicker at his enemy's predicament. Danny landed on the roof and almost fell over, he wasn't used to wearing heels. This only made Skulker laugh harder at the welp trying to regain his balance on the 4 inch heels connected to his thigh high boots.

"Welp, what happened to you? It is you right? I still want to skin your pelt and place it over my fireplace." Skulker said with his grin. He aimed his blaster and fired.

Danny dodged the ectoblast, tumbling over his heels. Flying it is, he thought as he began to levitate. "Skulker, even if I'm a girl, I can still beat your ass. Don't be sexist." Danny said as he fired back three fire blasts in succession.

The first two were dodged by the flaming ghost, but the last knocked the blaster from his arms. Skulker drew up his arm and it opened to reveal 3 silver and blue missiles. He fired and remarked "Is it true that Plasmius revealed your secret to the mortals?"

Danny rolled his eyes and confirmed the ghosts suspicion. "I don't have time for this, I need to get back to class." Danny crossed his arms producing a shield, blocking the missile. He flew up to Skulker and kicked the ghosts arms off. He then proceeded to unscrew Skulker's head and grab the green little blob from within. He took the thermos out of his belt and dropped the blob into the thermos.

Danny sighed as capped the thermos and floated back down into the bathroom, transforming into his human self and returning to class. He sat down with a huff, tired from fighting the level four ghost. Sam passed a note onto his desk: 'check your arm'. Oh shit. He didn't notice the slender cut that ran down his arm. One of the missiles must have nicked him when he had turned around. He placed his hand on top of the scar to block it from view. He checked his palm and some blood was smeared across it. Great.

Class resumed as usual, Lancer went through a PowerPoint and then gave students work time. The students conversed in their respective social groups and Danny was glad for the little attention.

Suddenly, Danny felt his muscles ache. He couldn't move any of his limbs He was about to tell Sam, but suddenly a green smoke arose from his body. Students turned around to see the situation. The smoke filled the room and everyone began coughing. Lancer opened the door and a window and students swatted the air as they coughed. The smoke began to clear and everyone turned their head towards the source of the green air.

Short, jagged black hair replaced the silky black locks, thin slender frame was replaced by light muscles, pointed face replaced by angular cheek bones, and crop top and skinny jeans replaced by a blue t-shirt ad jeans.

Danny Fenton sat in the spot Daisy was sitting in, wide eyed and staring at his classmates. Students mouths were wide open while Sam and Tucker facepalmed in sync.

"Fuck." Danny muttered, clutching his arm tighter.

The loudest exclamation came from a specific A-lister with his head in his hands. "I KISSED FENTURD?!" Dash shouted as he stood up.

[jennycalendar]

transitional

read it on ao3!

“So you’ve warmed up to computers a little, huh?” she said very casually.

“I-I suppose so,” said Giles, who couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something.

“And you think they’re maybe worth getting to know a little more?” said Ms. Calendar. “Like, outside a workplace environment?”

i think a lot about how we never saw giles and jenny go from awkward friends into moony-eyed dorks. so i took a stab at writing that.

Giles spent the night dancing, and regretted it sorely in the morning—pun intended. His back ached from the battle and the Bronze alike, he hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep, and Snyder’s godforsaken early-morning faculty meeting was grating on his nerves. It was difficult enough to stay awake; he felt he should get a bloody medal for managing to act civil.

Ms. Calendar had no such qualms when it came to professionalism. She showed up five minutes late, staunchly ignored the look sent her way by Snyder, sat down next to Giles (there was an audible murmur of surprise from the staff at this), and leaned back in the chair, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.

Giles was the only one close enough to hear her softly snoring, and it irritated him tremendously—though not for the usual reasons. In times past, he might have been infuriated at Ms. Calendar’s lack of decorum and respect, judging her for both her tardiness and her obvious napping. Now, he was mostly just annoyed that she could sneak in a bit of shut-eye and he had to stay awake through this absolute nonsense.

“The library, Mr. Giles, has sustained earthquake damage,” Snyder announced about fifteen minutes into the meeting, with a dirty look at Giles as though the earthquake had somehow been his fault. “Of course, this renders it unusable until it’s properly fixed.”

“Obviously,” Giles agreed.

“We’ll be sending some workers in tomorrow to take a look at the damage,” Snyder informed him. “Make sure that all the books are removed so they can get to fixing things.”

“What—that’s—tomorrow?” Giles sputtered. Next to him, Ms. Calendar jerked awake, giving him a semi-panicked what-did-I-miss look over the tops of her sunglasses. “I have to remove all the books from the library tomorrow?” Giles tacked on.

Ms. Calendar first gave him a small thank-you smile, then stopped, frowning. “Wait,” she said, looking over at Snyder. “Seriously? Aren’t there people who can help him with that?”

“Thank you for volunteering, Ms. Calendar,” said Snyder with satisfaction. “As you two will both be doing this, none of the school budget will be going towards paying extra labor. And as I am conducting performance reviews in two weeks—”

“Can he seriously blackmail us into it?” Ms. Calendar whispered to Giles.

“He’s a power-mad moron,” Giles muttered back. “I’m fairly certain anything is within his jurisdiction.” He was well aware that the entire faculty room was staring at him and Ms. Calendar, and was rather glad he was too tired to care about how this must look to them. Both of them sitting together and whispering to each other, Jenny wearing the same clothes from the day before—oh, lord, scrap that bit about not caring.Giles straightened his glasses and tried to stop blushing.

“—as I am conducting performance reviews in two weeks,” Snyder continued, looking just as bewildered as the rest of the staff room to see the two most violently combative teachers sharing secrets, “I think you would both do well not to rock the boat. I’ll expect that library free of books before the workers show up tomorrow.”

Ugh, thought Giles, but decided against saying it.

“Ugh,” said Ms. Calendar. Then, “Can we at least have an extra day?”

“No,” said Snyder. “Library repairs cost extra on Saturdays. Meeting adjourned.”

As the faculty filed out (Giles did his very best not to listen to the whispering teachers, all of whom had things to say about why he and Ms. Calendar had shown up in disarray), Ms. Calendar put away her sunglasses, then turned to Giles with a small, tired grin. “I mean, I’d have helped you out anyway,” she said, “but it sucks that he’s making you do this.”

“I’ve functioned on worse sleep before—”

“Yeah, but I don’t think you ever danced the night away,” said Ms. Calendar, grin widening.

“Oh, for—” Giles felt the twinge of familiar annoyance, now paired with an exasperated affection. “It was one dance,” he said.

“Five,” said Ms. Calendar.

“It was not!”

“You weren’t keeping great track of the songs,” Ms. Calendar pointed out.

“You never let me leave the dance floor!” Giles countered. “More than one dance implies breaks between the dance!”

Ms. Calendar scoffed, her eyes alight with the same warmth Giles felt. This argument was different, he thought, in a way that had his heart fluttering. “A dance is a song,” she said. “When the song ends, the dance itself is over, even if you’re still dancing.”

“You never let go of me long enough for the dance to be over,” Giles persisted.

Ms. Calendar gave him an open-mouthed grin. “You’re a hard guy to let go of, Rupert,” she said, and batted her lashes.

“Oh, ha ha,” said Giles, standing up. Ms. Calendar’s face fell a bit; he couldn’t imagine why. Awkwardly, and trying to recapture the fleeting comradery between them, he said, “To the library, then?”

Ms. Calendar was blushing. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah. Library. Obviously.”

The library was a wreck. Even without the debris left by the monster, the shattered glass from the skylight, and the broken table containing the Master’s skeleton (Giles supposed he should count himself lucky that Snyder hadn’t asked about that), there was still the fact that Giles’s books were entirely in disarray. He couldn’t stop the distressed little whimper as he looked upon what had once been an organized research space.

And then he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” said Ms. Calendar. “We’re working under a weird time constraint, sure, but I’ve packed up way more stuff than this in way less time.” She considered. “And hungover, actually. So we’re fine.”

As she headed towards the first pile of books, Giles frowned, playing the sentence back. “Why were you packing and hungover?” he asked.

Ms. Calendar stooped, picking up an armful of books, and turned back to Giles. He noticed, with a strange flutter, that she was holding them all with care. “I travel a lot,” she said, tried to shrug, and remembered just in time that she was holding the books. “I’m not really one to stick in one place for longer than a year. Whole lot of world, you know?”

“No,” said Giles honestly.

Ms. Calendar laughed, a sound of genuine, pleased amusement that Giles hadn’t heard from her before. Mostly, when she laughed, there was a biting edge of mockery or bitterness or some other flavor of one-upsmanship; Giles liked this laugh better. He wanted to hear it again. “Well, at least he’s honest,” she quipped, placing the books down on the checkout desk. “So you don’t travel much?”

Giles hesitated. Generally, when people had asked before, he had made some weak joke about stuffy academics and left things at that. But Ms. Calendar was currently the closest thing he had to a friend, and the first person in Sunnydale he had chosen to tell about his Watcher status. That felt important. “I spent the better part of the last twenty years at a desk job in the Watchers’ Council,” he said, “preparing myself to train a Slayer. I was more than desperate to prove myself worthy of the cause. It left little time for travel.” He smiled a little sadly. “I’d rather like to live the life you do,” he said.

Ms. Calendar shook her head. Her expression was more gentle than Giles had ever seen it—directed at him, at least. “It gets old,” she said. “Doesn’t leave a lot of time for friends, you know?”

Giles snorted. “And I suppose I make time for my sparkling social life in between the research and the nearly being eaten by monsters?”

That made Ms. Calendar smile. “Fair point,” she agreed. “So we’re both lonely—”

“You cannot possibly be lonely,” Giles scoffed, appalled by the very notion. “You’re one of the most outgoing, charismatic people I’ve met. How on earth could you not have made friends on staff already just by virtue of being yourself?”

Ms. Calendar blinked, then turned a rosy pink. Giles played his words back, and began to blush a bit himself. “Wow,” she said. “Um, that’s…kind of the sweetest thing anyone���s said to me in a really long time.”

“Your bar is very low if you’re calling me sweet,” said Giles dryly, which made Ms. Calendar laugh again. “Shall we start on the books?”

Giles was still having trouble getting used to the ease with which he and Ms. Calendar worked together. They had been assigned to tidy the staff room for a bake sale two months ago, and had spent more time shouting at each other than actually getting any work done. The teachers had been displeased, the bake sale had been bumped a week, and Principal Flutie had said, in an injured tone of voice, that at Sunnydale High, we foster community, not combativeness! Ms. Calendar had responded to this by flipping Giles off behind Flutie’s back and stalking out of the office, leaving him to clean up the rest of the staff room on his lonesome.

But they had exorcised the demon together easily, Giles bringing out his old grimoire and Ms. Calendar typing without argument. They had researched the Hellmouth and the Master together, Giles finding books for Ms. Calendar to page through. And now they were sorting books into boxes to pack away, and to Giles’s utter shock, Ms. Calendar took to his supernatural cataloguing system like a fish to water.

“You were expecting me to struggle with this?” she laughed, handing him a stack of books for the box labeled Demons—Dismemberment. “It’s honestly not that hard.”

“It requires a, a rudimentary understanding of the contents of each book,” stammered Giles, his heartbeat picking up as he looked at her. He was a bit tired, he told himself. Tired, and the tea in the staff room was undoubtedly much too caffeinated. “Or at the very least, an ability to assess—”

“Rupert,” said Ms. Calendar, looking at him with playful sympathy, “has your only exposure to human society been Buffy, Willow, and Xander for all these months? You know I love those kids, but Willow’s the only one among the bunch who even knows what the Dewey Decimal System is.”

“I-I must confess, I am a bit…unused to adult company,” Giles agreed. “It’s been a while since England.”

“So you had friends over there?” Ms. Calendar placed another stack of books on the counter.

Giles stilled, unsure how to answer that question. After a good few seconds of silence, he knew that he had inadvertently answered it anyway. “No,” he said simply.

Ms. Calendar looked up, and it took Giles a moment to recognize that the sympathy in her eyes was no longer teasing. “Well,” she said, and bumped his shoulder. “The English are obviously morons.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Excluding you!” said Ms. Calendar hastily, wincing. “I just meant…they’re missing out.” She gave him a nervous little grin. “You’re kind of an okay guy when you’re not telling me how computers are going to directly cause the end of all human interaction.”

“Did I say that?” said Giles, alarmed. “Truly, computers aren’t all that bad. I really would like to learn more about them.”

Ms. Calendar’s face then went through a series of expressions of which Giles couldn’t fathom the meaning. First shock, then disbelief, and then a sort of stunned smile crept across her face. “So you’ve warmed up to computers a little, huh?” she said very casually.

“I-I suppose so,” said Giles, who couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something.

“And you think they’re maybe worth getting to know a little more?” said Ms. Calendar. “Like, outside a workplace environment?”

And at that moment, something revealed itself to Giles that he had somehow never noticed before: Ms. Calendar was extremely beautiful. In the days when they were at each other’s throats, all he had seen was a veritable hurricane of a woman who refused to admit when she was wrong, and his frustration had eclipsed any notice he might have taken of her sweetly quirky smile or her dark, sparkling eyes. He was not at all thinking about computers—had completely forgotten the question she had posed—when he said, rather breathlessly, “Yes, I think—yes.”

Ms. Calendar smiled, leaning closer—

“Attention,” blared Principal Snyder’s voice through the intercom, and Giles and Ms. Calendar jumped apart. “A reminder to our students that the library will be closed until further notice. Also, Miss Cordelia Chase is still due at my office for questions regarding security footage of her car driving into the school. Thank you.”

“Seriously?” said Ms. Calendar, glaring at the intercom. “You choose now to do this?”

Giles leaned against the checkout desk, rather stunned by the about-face his feelings for Ms. Calendar had taken. He had always felt strongly towards her, even when they had been workplace enemies, so it stood to reason that his feelings would remain strong in this new context. But being hit with romantic inclinations this fast, and this unexpectedly—

“Books?” said Ms. Calendar.

“Yes,” said Giles, hurrying past her to the stack of books still on the checkout counter. “Um, these go in—”

“Evisceration,” said Ms. Calendar, her voice softening. Giles turned to look at her, and saw that she was giving him a sweet little smile the likes of which he had never seen her give anyone before.

“Yes,” said Giles again, feeling the beginnings of a rather soppy grin of his own.

Ms. Calendar turned on the radio when they were three-fourths of the way through the books, humming along to the little jingle played before the news. Giles, however, found himself rather tired of current events. “Might I change this?” he asked.

Ms. Calendar looked up, surprised. “I thought you’d like this,” she said. “Aren’t you all Mr. Intellectual?”

The fact that she said this without a hint of mockery made Giles feel too ridiculously fluttery to manage a coherent sentence. “Well, that’s—y-yes,” he stammered, horrified with himself. This was the woman he had had actual debates with about the merits of technology, and now a schoolboy crush had him unable to speak around her? “Yes, I simply—news has been rather, rather draining lately. I think I’d like some music.”

“Classical?” said Ms. Calendar.

“Not particularly,” said Giles, and flipped the stations until something with a respectable beat came on. As he turned to Ms. Calendar, he saw that she was staring at him incredulously. “What?”

“This is rock and roll,” said Ms. Calendar.

“Yes, it is,” said Giles, bemused. “Is that surprising to you?”

“Yes, it is!” said Ms. Calendar, and gestured towards Giles as though this somehow clarified things. “You’re—I once saw you call a vending machine an infernal contraption! There is a running theory that you’re some kind of time traveler from the nineteenth century!”

“Well, I’m a modern Regency man,” said Giles mildly. “Besides which, I figured classical music might put us both to sleep rather quickly. You’ve gone through how many cups of coffee in the last hour?”

“Twelve,” said Ms. Calendar.

“That cannot be healthy,” said Giles.

“I was up all night,” said Ms. Calendar. “I’ll take a sick day tomorrow and sleep it off.” She was grinning. “It’s a good song, though,” she said, and then extended her hand to Giles.

“Oh no,” said Giles. “No. You have gotten more dancing out of me than I have done in the last five years at least.”

“C’mon, Rupert,” Ms. Calendar wheedled. “The song’s already half over, and I really need to move around a little in a way that’s not lifting heavy books.”

In answer, Giles crossed his arms, leaning stubbornly back against the checkout desk.

“You know what,” said Ms. Calendar, looking more amused than annoyed, “I am too tired to push this issue,” and shrugged off her leather jacket, placing it on the table and beginning to dance herself. She had moved with adrenaline-fueled precision, the night before, dark hair falling down and out of her messy bun, but it was clear that the sleep deprivation was beginning to hit her rather hard. Still, she danced, eyes fixed determinedly on Giles as if daring him to comment on her utter childishness—and then she swayed, and fell.

Giles honestly didn’t decide to catch her. He didn’t even make the conscious choice to take two running steps across the room as soon as he saw her sway. All he knew was that, the moment she should have hit the floor, she was somehow in his arms instead, forehead bumping against his.

They hadn’t been this close when they were dancing. She smelled like magic and too much coffee and something that was just her, and Giles was having trouble remembering to breathe. Part of him was afraid that any sudden movement would shatter the moment. Part of him was afraid that she would let him pull her closer.

“Thanks,” said Ms. Calendar, her voice suddenly thick with sleep. “Guess the whole zero-hours-of-rest thing is catching up to me, huh?”

Giles steered her gently to a chair, helping her sit down at the checkout desk. Removing his jacket, he draped it over her shoulders, telling himself very firmly that her bright, adoring eyes had more to do with sleep deprivation than genuine appreciation. “Rest up,” he said. “I can finish up the books while you nap. I’m quite practiced at keeping late hours.”

“I drank too much coffee to get any sleep,” mumbled Ms. Calendar, who was already resting her head on her arms.

“I’m sure you did,” said Giles, patting her shoulder.

Ms. Calendar sighed, leaning into his touch. “Just gonna…relax for a little ‘n then I’ll, I’ll…” She trailed off, her breathing evening out.

Giles tried to remind himself that there were a thousand and one reasons that a Watcher having a relationship was a bad idea. All these reasons flew very neatly out the window when Ms. Calendar murmured something incoherent, then tugged his jacket closer around her. She’s so small, he thought, and yet she’s so much more confident than I think I’ll ever be.

Ms. Calendar opened her eyes again, half-awake. “Rupert?” she said.

“Mm?” said Giles.

“I wanna dance with you again later,” said Ms. Calendar, and promptly fell back asleep. Giles spent the next twenty minutes analyzing this statement and got absolutely no work done.

(“Shameful,” said Principal Snyder. “Shameful. Napping on the job, Ms. Calendar? Wandering around muttering to yourself, Mr. Giles? Now I am going to have to pay people to remove the books. On the weekend.”

“We make a good team,” said Ms. Calendar.

“That we do,” said Giles.

“I am never putting the both of you on an important project again,” said Principal Snyder, and completely missed the high-five Ms. Calendar gave Giles under the table.)

[cbvamped]

4/1

Cameron While doing some sheet work in my literature class the door makes the sound of it being opened. My guess is a female walked in from the click of heels tapping the hard floor. Others might have looked up to see who this person was but my work is more important than a tardy student.

"Damn who is that? She is bad!" One of the guys in the class says with someone agreeing with him.

"Class I just want to take a second to introduce a new transfer student. This is Raven now this is not first grade I don't need to tell anyone to be nice because we all are adults here. You can take that seat behind Cameron there."

I raise my hand keeping my eyes focused on my work. From my eye corners I see the Raven girl walk by. Our professor catches her up on what our current assistant is. The bell rang just minutes after we were assigned our homework. Gathering my belongings I move to leave the class.

"Excuse me...Cameron?"

We come face to face. At first I frowned as she came up smiling. "Yes?"

"Hi I'm Raven and uh I was t-told to come to you for help with my um classes. Getting to my classes not like I need help in the classes because you know I'm smart oh but I'm not bragging like I'm better than you or anyone else since you know there's always someone...smarter. I'm sorry I'm rambling I'll just...go."

A smile crept onto my lips. Her random word puking and redden cheeks amused me.

"No you're fine. May I see your schedule?"

She quickly reaches into a folder handing me a slim piece of paper. Our skin connect for a slight second. She blushes again pulling on a curl from her head.

"Wow we have every class together. You might as well follow me around."

"I can do that. It'll be a little tour for me." She smiled adjusting her books and bag on her shoulder.

The gentleman in me offered holding her book for her. We walk out heading for the next building for the next class.

"My family is small no siblings so I'm a only child." She said tapping her pen. "What about you?"

"I have a older sister who gave me a beautiful niece and nephew. My parents are divorced and have been since I was twelve I think."

The door opens and a pool of students come flooding in. Among them was Jess and her clique of groupies. Their all mindless trail along dogs if you ask me.

"Cam cam baby!" She squealed skipping over.

Raven scrunched her face. I could've sworn I heard a growl leave her lips. "Jess please get off me."

"Baby-"

"I'm not anything related to that to you...please don't do that."

She looked at Raven and laughed before kissing my cheek walking to her seat.

"Sorry about that....she crazy."

"It's cool. Is she an ex?"

"No not even I don't know what she is to be honestly. Only time we talk is when she needs something. My guess of that whole scene she may be jealous but I'm not trying to confirm that."

She smiled looking over the side of the class Jess sat. "Oh so she's a user. So sad."

"It is that's why I try to keep my distance. I'm what people around here like to call a loner I keep to myself."

"So I guess it's pretty special for me to have your attention huh."

Smirking I started to respond to her question but the professor walks in gaining the attention of all the students. In this class mostly paper work was done. Jess text me to send her answers but I deleted them right after reading. Raven and I both were the first to finish. While waiting for the rest to finish their work I scribble away in my blank book.

Raven decided on reading to pass her time. I found myself taking small glances at her every other second. She is truly a beautiful young woman. Smart which is obvious from her choice in literature. It's rare around this way to find a lady into her smarts more than her looks.

I truly enjoyed showing her around. The conversations just flow between us. We share similar love in activities such as reading and drawing she even prefers her own company over others. After classes and the small tour was over I offered buying lunch for the two of us.

"You believe in mermaids?"

She shrugged blushing. "I mean there's so much of the ocean that has yet to be discovered. Would they look how the entertainment portrays them maybe not but I think there is a slight chance of them existing. Even though it's a good thing no one knows for sure if they are indeed real. Humans don't fully understand their own minds and bodies as of yet how can they understand another being?"

The mind of this woman amazes me more every time a word leave her lips. The sparkle in her eye has me almost hypnotized. Our minds are in a way connected I feel like I've known her for months maybe years.

"It's good to know I'm not the only weirdo around here now." I stand pulling out her chair holding out my hand for her.

"Thank you. So uh I guess this is the end of my first day."

"Hopefully it was enjoyable?"

"Yes all thanks to you. I appreciate helping me find my way around...I'll see you in the morning?"

We had walked out of the cafeteria now standing under the night sky. A slight breeze swings by giving slight chills. Her hair swang in a slow motion as she looks up through her long lashes batting them. The moonlight peaks from behind a group of clouds shining down on us almost as if it were spotlight. Her eyes glisten over in a red color before returning to the original.

"Y-yes. Um if I'm not being to forward I'd like to maybe walk you to class?"

She smiled showing two sharp teeth on both sides of her mouth. She's so unique. "I'd love that. Oh and I like carmel iced coffee....so we can pick up some breakfast  before class starts."

Weird I was just thinking of that. I walk her to her dorm while we talked more. This time on art.

"Don't think I'm some kind of goth creep but....I like dark art. Things most people would say is odd or scary." I rub the back of my neck. "Ever since I can remember I've been into dark and other world type stuff. I use to get names called at me all the time."

"There's nothing wrong with that. Not everyone is gonna like the same art or music or fashion, foods anything. It's what makes us all unique and different." Her hand runs down my arm.

She blushed at my unintentional starring which I snapped out of quickly. I don't want to weird her out but she's just so- "Amazing."

"Huh?"

"Oh um I was uh talking about....the moon! Yeah the moon see it's a full one tonight." I quickly point out a near by window. Damn it I'm such a nerd.

"Uh it's so beautiful so relaxing to see. Back home we have this really big and open back yard so on nights like this I'd get a blanket and pillow just basking in its natural beauty taking in that positive spirit that comes over."

She stared smiling slightly. We both blushed at me being caught watching her. As she goes to unlock her room a voice whispered.

"I love you"

"I guess I'll see you in the morning?"

"Yea bright and early."

"Great...goodnight."

Taking her hand I slightly peak the back. "Goodnight."

Raven My fang pierce my bottom lip as I sigh. I watched him smile at my door and chuckle before walking off. We literally spend an entire day together and it couldn't have been better.

I think I've fallen even deeper in love with him. All through out our day together I just continue imaging us ruling over the kingdom. We connected on a whole new level...mentally. But haven't fed since getting here I can only go about a full day maybe without at lease one blood feeding.

I managed to sneak over to the woods located across the school lot. Walking around for a while I let my beast unleash. My feet allow me to dodge trees until I'm in the middle of the forest. A deer caught my eye but before I could get to it something tackled it with a loud crunch.

I guess I'm not alone here.

[plsdonttakemyadvice]

[1/2]

If you don't want to be sad don't think about the Doctor always assigning someone to watch the Winchester boys growing up and demanding status reports every 12 hours. Showing up wherever they are if someone misses the time by 0.788 seconds. Don't think about the Doctor frantically researching the effects of Vashta Nervada blood on humans and spending hours racking every database the TARDIS has access to just to help Sammy. Don't think about the Winchester's having a bat signal for the Doctor. 3 shotgun blasts into the sky exactly 3.7 miles northwest of their hotel room. "Listen Doc, 3.7 miles northwest is pretty specific don't you think?" "And three shotgun blasts seems a little wasteful. Plus, looking at this map, Doctor, it looks like 3.7 miles northwest of here is... a primary school." "Perfect! Ought to attract a lot of attention then, don't you think? Especially the likes of a spacey-wacey timey-wimey Timelord." "A spacey-wacey what?" Don't think about the fact that the boys can't travel with the Doctor because they're too busy saving the world, so the Doctor travels with them in the back of baby instead. Just don't.

[bookedandbusythough]

Answer the questions and then tag 8 people!

-thanks to my love @house-arya for tagging me! Tumblr would be nothing without you! <3 <3 - tagging all my boos: @padmesgreene @jewishstarks @gendryatrash @miladyaryastark @valiantnedspreciouslittlegirl @hunterthewriterworld <3 @insomniarama @asongoftarthandlannister @buttercuparry @eggo-my-leggo @furious-winter  and of course whoever else wants to do this!

-> What made you sign up to Tumblr? Definitely JUST to siphon up all the GENDRYA content! 

-> What did your blog start off as being? idk basically what it is now, except I didn’t have all you fabulous darlings as friends! and also it was mainly arya x gendry week stuff, can’t wait for it to be all that again!

-> Have you ever received any creepy asks, and if so, what did they say? no, is that a thing? -> Have you ever had a bad experience on tumblr? not yet! someone rated my aesthetic low, but i was asking for it since i don’t have the energy to make my blog as pretty as all you have yours!

-> If you had to pick a favourite English monarch, who would you pick? omg idk enough about them all, but i’m going to cheat and say Elizabeth II just because I’m watching The Crown right now and Matt Smith is hot af and the Queen is a badass. Also Queen Elizabeth I from what I do know about her. But mainly does Princess Diana count? -> Do you prefer hot or cold? COLD -> Do you have a special skill or talent? Writing??? At least I like to think so... -> Do you have a phobia of anything? Those I love dying

-> If you had to pick a favourite real life villain from history, who would you pick? ummmm, i wish there was a list, give me a list. @house-arya ‘s answer Rasputin was pretty interesting. I cheated and googled a list and then laughed out loud when I saw Scalia was on there. So I guess him. Even though I hated his policy views, his writing left nothing to be desired, except maybe less. lmao -> Do you have any dark traits? I don’t know. I’m horrible at breaking up with people. Once I’m done with someone, I’m absolutely done. I can like go from being in love with them one day to a complete lack of feeling for them the next. Once I’m done. I think that’s pretty dark. -> If you could do anything, literally anything, like fly on a unicorn or something, what would it be? probably go back in time. which is sad. but it’s fine. not sad, probably have like a TARDIS so I could go on doctor who-like adventures but still get all my shit done -> What is the scale of the worst argument you’ve ever had? omg pick one. I’m crazy so all my arguments are over the top. My poor boo thang...but probably any fight with him. We’re both way too extra soooo -> What is your favourite slush flavour? that light white cherry one at the target cafe... -> If you could bring back any food or drink from your childhood that has been discontinued, what would it be? Trix yogurt, do they still sell that??? -> What is your favourite and most vivid childhood memory? When my siblings and I used to play pretend, from Power Rangers to Jurassic Park, even made up our own TV shows and acted them out, so mainly that -> If you could bring anyone back from the dead who would it be? I shouldn’t, but my friend who died 12 years ago. I would.

-> If you could go back to any time period and live there for a week, which period would it be and why? Renaissance? Just when Paris first became THE capital maybe. I’m not really sure. I’m not being very creative with my answers. But like Paris for sure some time way back in time. -> If you could visit any abandoned place to take pictures, where would it be? Titanic? Or any castle. -> Do you have any particular, peculiar interests? ummmm i’d like to say i had any interests outside of the fandoms I blog about but that would not, strictly speaking, be true. :/ -> Do you have a creepy/scary experience that has happened to you, and what was it? when i was like 10 or 11 years old, my family and i all lived in this one story house in san diego. it was like midnight, and everyone was asleep except for my older brother. he was reading one of those x-files books when he suddenly heard a noise like scratching/knocking on his room window. he was freaked out and ran to wake my parents out. my dad went outside with a flashlight and baseball bat screaming to scare whoever was out there and actually saw someone running away. they called the police but never caught who it was. we all slept in my parents room for the next like 2 months after that. i mean, there was someone staring in at my brother through the window and touching the window while he was reading x-files. is there anything creepier?

-> Do you like/read creepypasta stories? If so, what’s your favourite story? what is that?? -> If you were in the Wars of the Roses, would you be a Lancastrian, or a Yorkist? only because my friend @house-arya said a York, so am I! -> What is your recurring nightmare? i keep having recurring dream...well they’re not all the same dream, but it’s like my latest one takes place where my last one left off where i’m still in school and i either keep missing class or assignments and there’s a constant feeling i’m going to fail the entire semester. since i haven’t been in school for way more than a year now, i don’t understand why this is still happening. -> Have you ever had a lucid dream? i don’t think so, but i wouldn’t mind one. -> If you could go to another planet, which would it be? Venus. Or the moon.  ->What is your religion, if any? Baptized Catholic, but I don’t practice anymore for various reasons. -> Have you ever got so drunk, that you did something really embarrassing, and if so, what did you do? omg we did trivia at a a brewery last night, then went to in n out and my friend and I wanted to get into a fight with this group of obnoxious teenagers sitting nearby who were totally judging us for being loud. but i almost always do something embarrassing when i drink because i’m such a lightweight. -> Mike, Dustin, Lucas, or Will? LUCAS FOR LIFE <3 <3 <3

-> Do you like Marina and the Diamonds? i think i’ve heard of them? but can’t think of any one song? -> Charli XCX? there was that one popular catchy song i liked, but i don’t remember the name, but yes? -> Tag a blog that you’ve seen, and you love their posts, but have never told them, and would like to talk to them. i would say @valiantnedspreciouslittlegirl but i think i’ve already sufficiently embarrassed myself enough telling her basically what a goddess she is, especially in terms of her stories. but there’s also @gendrie who just writes the best analysis/meta (are those the rights words?) about gendrya. i literally end up smiling like an idiot every time I read a @gendrie post about gendrya. <3 <3 <3 to the 2 of you! -> Pick one thing you like/love from the 80s. the movie Psycho II. is that weird? -> What year were you born, and name something cool from that year. I’m going with @house-arya on this one and am going to say “me” too!

-> What was your blog name originally? (If you had another blog name) that was you?! @house-arya omg! that’s cray, i never realized! but i’ve never changed mine! -> Do you follow any blogs that you know the user in real life? Haha, no. No wait. My sister. She’s a bitch though, so it’s fine. @crimsonramirez -> If you are in the ST fandom, which is your favourite song off the ST soundtrack? omg i thought that stood for star trek until I saw @house-arya‘s answer (sorry to keep tagging you). but same answer as her, should i stay or should i go. -> Finally, give your opinion on the person who tagged you! ✨ I KNOW I GUSH ABOUT YOU ALL THE TIME BUT LITERALLY TUMBLR WOULD BE NOTHING WITHOUT YOU AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT MY LIFE WOULD HAVE BEEN WITHOUT ARYAXGENDRY WEEK BUT OMG YOUR BLOG IS LITERALLY MY FAVORITE AND YOU KNOW THAT BUT SOMEHOW I CAN’T STOP TELLING YOU! <3 <3 <3