#also this took forever because I was deciding if I take off the logo which is annoying af but at least there's the date premiere of the show | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jaehyunspeachparty · 3 years ago

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8. Meeting her (a)

"Who do you want to tell first?", Chichi asked her fiancé and looked at her engagement ring. She still couldn't believe this happened. That after all that, Sunoh wants to live with her forever. "I promised Miga because she helped me with the ring." Sunoh looked a bit guilty, because actually Chichi should decide who to say first. Maybe she wanted to tell Yuta first. After all, he was her only family. "Okay, shall we call her right away?", She asked very carelessly and Sunoh was relieved that she wasn't upset. Sunoh nodded and they opened Facetime on the laptop to call his sister. "Hello Sunoh, Hello Chichi." Miga grinned when she saw the two, but Sunoh thought something else. "Are you still in bed? Since when have you slept so long?" Miga suddenly became nervous, which surprised the couple again. "Well, it was ... the shooting was ..." Miga looked for excuses, but someone gave her something. "Here's the coffee .." Hyunjin appeared on the screen with two cups in hand and his torso was bare. "Oh my god! Are you with Hyunjin again?" Sunoh started to grin because he really wanted his sister to get together with his best friend. "Well ... we haven't talked about it yet." Miga looked with her big dark eyes at Hyunjin, who lay down in bed with her and immediately put his arm around her. "Okay okay, we'll leave you alone, we have something to say to you anyway." Sunoh cleared his throat and the amorous looks between Miga and Hyunjin turned back to the screen. "She said yes," said Sunoh excitedly and took Chichi's hand to hold the ring in the camera. "Oh my god! He asked you? I thought he needed a few more months," Miga exposed him and laughs. "Yes, last night," said Chichi happily. "Sunoh was so nervous when we chose the ring," Miga said with a laugh. "For real?" Chichi looked wide-eyed at her fiancé and Sunoh was angry at his sister for exposing him. "Well, it's just ..." he stammered. "Congratulations, I'm happy for you," Hyunjin interrupted to take the embarrassment away. "Thank you, Hyunjin," said Sunoh, glad that his best friend was the first to find out. "Well, then we'll leave you alone," Miga then said and she turned to Hyunjin, who looked at her smiling and then they kissed each other gently. "I think we'd better leave you guys alone," said Sunoh and laughed. "Then have a good time", Miga and the others said goodbye and Sunoh closed the laptop. "You look happy," said Chichi and smiled. "Yes, hopefully it will hold this time." Sunoh stroked his fiancée's hair and they fell back into bed together.

But even if the two were on cloud nine and Chichi could hardly believe her luck, they also knew that they were actually here to find Chichi's mother. And this task seemed to be harder than expected. They couldn't find an address, no access. Sunoh and Chichi visited offices, clubs and boutiques, but nowhere could or would anyone say anything about her mother. And so there were only two days left and they still had no clue. Sunoh looked at Chichi as they sat in the taxi and could see that her eyes were blank. She had no more strength, she just didn't want to anymore. He also didn't know what to say anymore, because it was a tough road they went. But when they got back to the hotel, someone from reception stopped them. "Ms. Nakamoto, a message for you." The receptionist hands the girl a black envelope with the hotel's logo on it. Chichi took it off with thanks and looked at her fiancé in amazement. "What is that?", Sunoh asked and Chichi just shrugged her shoulders. The two went to the room and the first thing she did was open the envelope. "What does it say in there?", Sunoh asked curiously and sat down next to her. "It's from my mother. She wants to see me. Tomorrow at noon. That's the address." She turned the letter to Sunoh and tried to organize her thoughts. "How does she know we're looking for her?" He asked and immediately entered the address on his phone. "I don't know, but we asked around a lot and maybe someone noticed?" Chichi was getting more and more nervous. She didn't know what to do. Sunoh noticed that she was not feeling well, that her body was starting to shake. He put the letter aside and took her in his arms. "Hey, everything will be fine." He kissed her forehead and stroked her back. "I don't know what to think. I'm happy, but I'm just as scared." She started to cry and barely got her emotions under control. Sunoh didn't quite know what to do. He just held her in his arms and just tried to be there for her.

Chichi couldn't sleep all night. Sunoh tried to stay with her the whole time, but he fell asleep at some point, but never let go of her hand. Chichi looked out the window and saw the lights of Tokyo. The sun was slowly rising and you could see the traffic on the streets increasing. But while other people made their way to their job, Chichi sat and felt her pulse go up. Her heart was beating so hard against her chest that she felt sick. She knew the feeling very well. Before big performances as a ballet dancer, she was often nervous that she vomited. And she knew it was that time again. Immediately she jumped up and ran to the bathroom. Everything came up inside of her and she could no longer control her nervousness. Sunoh woke up to the noises and immediately ran to her in the bathroom. "Chichi, what's wrong?" He sat down next to her and looked into her pale face. She just took a piece of toilet paper and wiped her mouth. "I don't know if I'm ready," she said then, and tears began to build up again. She also didn't know why she suddenly became so emotional. But suddenly she felt so much. "That's you, otherwise we wouldn't be here," said Sunoh, taking her hand. Chichi just nodded silently and tried to clean everything. "I'll do that, lie down," said Sunoh.

Shortly before the meeting, Chichi vomited again and Sunoh no longer knew how to help her. His fiancée was just an empty shell. After being locked in the bathroom for almost an hour, she came out and smiled. Sunoh sat up in surprise and looked at her. "Okay let's go." She took her bag and applied a little more blush so that she didn't look so pale. "Are you all right?" Asked Sunoh and got up. "Yeah, I was nervous, but I still talked to Dad on the phone and that was good for me." Yuta had prepared her a little more, even if he wasn't happy that she meet her. "You threw up in here for almost an hour and you say you are fine?" Sunoh became more and more worried about her. "I know, but it wasn't the nervousness. I think my stomach has something. Probably because I vomited too much in the morning and then ate too much." She shrugged and Sunoh was visibly confused by her sudden mood swings. Lately she has often switched from crying to overjoyed and vice versa. "Are you sure?", He asked again and Chichi nodded. "Yes everything is good." She smiled and then gave him a kiss. Sunoh then followed her and took it all that way. The two took a taxi to the address and noticed that the restaurant was very out of town. "Are you sure that we are correct?", Sunoh asked nervously and held Chichi close. "Yes, it was the address on the envelope." Chichi looked around and everything seemed very strange to her too. "Shall we leave?", Sunoh asked, but Chichi shook her head. "We'll see." The two went into the restaurant and sat down at a table in the corner. "I have a bad feeling," said Sunoh, looking around. "Let's wait a few minutes and if no one comes we'll go." Chichi just wanted to wait a little longer. What if the hint was correct? "Okay ..." Sunoh looked around and saw no one conspicuous, but then a woman completely dressed in black came into the restaurant. "Can it be her?", He asked his fiancée and Chichi also looked in his direction. But the woman was wearing sunglasses and a mask. Neither of them could see much. But the woman headed towards the two of them and suddenly this black figure was standing in front of them. "Who is that?", She asked Chichi and pointed to Sunoh. She took off her sunglasses and when Sunoh looked into her eyes he saw Chichi's eyes. "I'm her fiancé," he said at once, but the woman doesn't look at him. "He should go," she said sharply and Chichi didn't quite know what to say. "Wow okay, I'll just sit over here." Sunoh got up annoyed and sat down a few tables away. Chichi was shocked by the cold manner she showed the two of them. "Fiancé? You are very young." The woman took off her mask and for the first time Chichi could see her mother Shiori. "Sunoh and I have been together since I was 15 years old." Chichi's shoulders slumped and she was suddenly small and shy again. "Sunoh? You mean Jaehyun Jung's son?" Shiori looked back at the table where Sunoh was sitting nervously waiting. "How do you know this?" Chichi looked at her puzzled. "I met Y/N when I was 4 months pregnant with you."

"Wow, it's starting to show that you're pregnant." Shiori looked at Y/N in amazement. "That sounds so bad when you say that," laughed Y/N and rubbed her belly. Shiori was known to be arrogant and her comments were almost never meant to be nice. "No, I didn't mean that at all. The baby is only growing so fast." Shiori was very intrigued. After all, she was already 4 months old herself, but she could hide it quite well. Nobody could see anything through her slim figure. "He. It's a boy," says Y/N with a smile and tried to meet Shiori, who was suddenly so soft and sweet. She had never seen her like this before. "A boy?" She asked with wide eyes. "Yes, his name is Sunoh. He's moving now. Touch him." Y/N took her hand and held it to her bump. "Wow." Shiori couldn't believe it. She felt the kicks of the unborn boy and she could hardly believe that this child will soon move inside of her too. "It's a miracle isn't it?" Y/N smiled at her and Shiori nodded absently. "A miracle ...", she said afterwards and she noticed how the emotions came over her. Suddenly she took her hands away, turned and ran away. Y/N looked after her and was still very surprised. But she also wondered if she should tell Yuta about it.

Shiori tried to make the memory disappear again. She had finished with the past, she was now living a different life. "What do you want?", She then asked sternly and Chichi winced briefly. Sunoh, watching from afar, clenched his fists. This woman was extremely mean to him. "I wanted to know who my mother is," said the girl, not understanding the coldness. "Did Yuta say where you can find me?", She then asked and crossed her arms. "No, he didn't tell me anything. I wish he would have told me sooner so ..." "So that you can find me and annoy me?" She asked, rolling her eyes. "No, I just wanted to know ... there was always a part missing, I ..." Chichi tried to hold back her tears. "The only thing I did was bring you into the world. We have nothing more in common. I don't want anything to do with you." Those were harsh words that hit Chichi really hard. "Have you never wondered what I look like, what I'm doing?" Tears rolled down Chichi's face and she tried to look at her mother. But the woman in front of her was just annoyed. "Do you need money? Have you already spent all the money?" She sighed and took a check out of her pocket. "No, I just wanted to know who my mother is." Chichi started to cry now, but Shiori was more annoyed about it. "I'm not your mother. I'm the mother of my two sons. That was it." She got up and wanted to get up, but then Sunoh intervened and stood in front of her. "What do you want?" She asked, looking at the boy. "Chichi has been wondering who her mother is all her life and it took us a lot of time to find you. And that's the only thing you have to say to her?" Sunoh was incredibly angry with Shiori. "Sunoh, it's okay." Chichi didn't want any more stress and she tried to hold back her fiancé. "You remind me a lot of your father. Not just how you look. Now I know why you guys are together." She started to laugh and the two looked at each other confused. "Someone has a mother complex there," she said then, raising an eyebrow. The two still didn't quite understand. "You are almost like a copy of Jaehyun and Y/N. It's almost gross." She then put on her sunglasses and walked past the two of them. The couple looked after her in surprise and Sunoh was almost shaking with anger. But Chichi smiled and put her hand on his chest. "Leave it," she said calmly and stroked him. "Aren't you mad about what she said?" Sunoh didn't quite get it. Chichi shook his head and smiled. "I ran after her for years and everyone told me she was like that. But she just showed me who my family is." She looked up at her with her dark eyes. "When she said that we are so similar to your parents. I'm glad that I always had such a role model as your parents. I don't come after her, I only have her DNA, nothing more. But your family has shaped me and I am happy to officially belong to this family soon. " She put her hand in his and lifted it up so that her engagement ring could be clearly seen. "I love you," he said, turned Chichi over and kissed her. And this time it was he who had to hold back the tears, because only with her did he get so emotional.

Chichi and Sunoh were more than happy to be back in Korea. It was an intense week and so full of emotions. And it made things even nicer as Yuta, Jaehyun and Y/N picked the couple up from the airport. "Daddy!" Chichi immediately fell into her father's arms and hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry," he said, hugging his daughter tighter. "No, thanks for everything Daddy," Chichi said and tears rolled down her cheeks. Sunoh also hugged his parents. After seeing how Shiori felt, he was happy to have grown up in such a loving household. "Did you like Chichi's mother?" Sunoh asked his mother. "No, absolutely not. But I'm glad she brought Chichi to us." She smiled and hugged her son closer to her. "Me too," Sunoh said and when Y/N turned to the side, she spotted something. "OH MY GOD! Is that what I think?" Her eyes widened and she ran towards Chichi. "What's going on?" Asked Jaehyun and followed his wife. "This is not a normal ring!" Y/N took her hand and examined the ring. "WHAT?" Yuta looked shocked at his daughter and Sunoh came now too. "I asked her if she want’s to marry me and she said yes," said Sunoh and put his arm around Chichi's shoulders. "Ohhhh you are engaged?" Asked Y/N and Sunoh nodded. She hugged them happily while Yuta turned pale. And while Y/N, Chichi and Sunoh went ahead and told her everything, Jaehyun realized that something was wrong with Yuta. "Hey, are you okay?", Jaehyun asked and patted Yuta's shoulder. "She was still my little girl ... I know the two have been together for a long time, but I'm moving too fast. She just moved out." Yuta found it difficult to process the engagement. "I know, but the two of them go so well together and Sunoh has always been good to her." Jaehyun tried to cheer him up. "But it's easier for you. It's your son. But imagine Miga would be engaged now." Yuta sighed and looked after his daughter. The time when she was still so small seemed so close to him. "I understand you very well. But seeing your daughter heartbroken is so bad that you wish she would never experience anything like that." Jaehyun sighed and remembers the time when Miga lay in bed crying and no longer ate. "Would you have preferred she would have stayed with him?" Yuta asked. "At first I didn't like their relationship, but they were very loving. I couldn't ignore it." Jaehyun sighed. "Hmm you're right, but I still wish they would take their time." Yuta was happy that Jaehyun was supporting him, but he was saddened nonetheless. "I know, but they're just engaged. It's not that Chichi is pregnant." Jaehyun smiled and patted Yuta's shoulder. Yuta nodded and mumbled something to herself. "Yes, at least she's not pregnant ..."

new generation masterlist

masterlist

#jaehyun #daddy jaehyun #jaehyun scenario #yuta #yuta angst #yuta scenarios #yuta imagines #jaehyun angst #jaehyun imagines #nct #nct 2020 #nct 127 #nct angst #nct 127 angst

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julianavalds · 7 years ago

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You are very relentless. You have no idea.

#tvedit #theboldtypeedit #tbtedit #kadenaedit #katedisonedit #adenaelaminedit #the bold type #kadena #kat edison #adena el amin #*m #*gifs #*100 #look at them :')#also this took forever because I was deciding if I take off the logo which is annoying af but at least there's the date premiere of the show #so there's no excuse go watch this show on july 11th on freeform!!! dont let this show flop please!#this is my psd which is not much but after trying so many psds I went with my own and I can't believe it worked?? what??#I don't like my psd...for me it's not good but anyways I'll stop talking now

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leupagus · 3 years ago

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Honey, It's the Mileage pt 5: obviously this was going to happen at some point

Taking a break by writing this scene in Continuing Adventures of Nightwinkgal prompted by the wonderful robinade, who wanted some sort of rugby-related shenanigans.

Meeting the love of your life and the person you will cherish in your heart forever is one of those things that you want to remember so you can tell your grandchildren, or maybe your brother’s grandchildren, or at any rate somebody’s grandchildren. I really wish I had a bit worse memory of it, though. Speaking personally.

I was sitting in one of the really uncomfortable hospital chairs at UCH, playing the new remastered Angry Birds on my phone and waiting either for Tommy to wake up or for someone from Charing Cross or the Folly to descend on me like an avenging angel and smite me into the ground or turn me into a toad or sack me or something. At this point I’d sussed out that Tommy had some sort of connection to the Folly and that the Folly was the Weird Bollocks Division of the Met (and that said bollocks were really fucking weird) but looking back I really didn’t know the fucking half of it.

The door opened and a woman slipped in, taking in the whole room with the kind of once-over summation that I’ve been trying to learn for the past year and a half. She was small and curvy, her hair cut short with a fade on the right side. She had on a pair of worn jeans and a sweater that looked really, really soft, like you could curl yourself up in it and do something cosy like knitting or reading or petting a cat. I recognised her as one of the women who sometimes picked Tommy up after our patrols, though usually she was in terrifyingly well-pressed suits. Her jeans did have an ironing crease in them, to be fair.

'Constable Brown, right?' she said, extending her hand. I scrambled to my feet and managed not to trip over the chair as I took it. 'DS Abigail Kamara. What happened?'

'Rugby,' I blurted, because I was busy falling in love. DS Kamara’s hand was small and soft, but you could still sense strength there. She had the kind of dark, serious eyes that you can get lost in; but even though she was maybe thirty, tops, she had faint laugh lines already. I wanted to know every joke she’d ever been told, everything that had ever made her smile. 'Hi,' I added.

Which did make her smile, for some reason. 'Hi,' she said, and let go of my hand. 'He was playing rugby?'

It’s important to be honest to superior officers and also to loved ones, but you shouldn’t overdo it. 'Yeah. Yes, ma’am, I mean.'

She looked skeptical. 'Playing it well? Actually I don’t need to ask that, since,' and she gestured at the bed. Tommy was still asleep from the anaesthesia, his left arm propped up on a little pillow and encased in plaster.

'Well,' I said, ’No.'

He hadn’t been bad, really. But when he’d offered to cover for Michael, whose wife called him pretty calmly ten minutes before the match to tell him that the delivery date had been moved up about a month or so and he needed to get to hospital right the fuck now, we’d agreed mostly because there wasn’t anybody else. So Michael had donated most of his kit, which was a hilarious combination of too big and too short for the living string-bean that is Thomas Nightingale, and tooled off in the direction of UCH. He and Deb were probably still here, I realised; I should go say hello.

'There was a scrum and he got sort of on the wrong end of it,' I explained, as Kamara went over to the bedside and pulled something out of her purse — grapes, of course, and a couple of bottles of water with the UCH logo on them.

'And what side would that be?' she asked, arranging everything just so on the bedside table.

'The bottom,' I said.

She laughed, and I wondered where the nearest jewellery store was or if I could propose without a ring. 'That explains a lot,' she said.

'Do you have any of his family’s contact information?' I remembered to ask. 'He gave me ident-auth for his phone in case there was an emergency, but it got fu—messed up somehow while we were playing.' Which had been weird, since everyone’s phones were scattered on the sidelines with our various piles of shit, but at the time I didn’t think it was weird-bollocks-weird. I have gotten a lot better about that sort of thing, for the record. Even Grant has said so, although I think he considers that a pretty low bar where I’m concerned.

'I’m sure it did,' Kamara sighed, which I did notice. 'Don’t worry, his people have all been notified. Including DCI Grant, but—' she added off my panicked casing for the exits, 'He's decided not to fly back from Chicago in order to laugh directly in Nightingale’s face. A few other people might turn up, though, so brace yourself for that.'

'Or I could just leave,' I suggested, which is when Tommy began to stir. We did the whole rushing-to-the-bedside thing that you don’t think you’ll do if you’re the one waiting for someone to wake up in hospital, but trust me: you’ll do it.

Tommy blinked a few times and tried saying something, but it was just a raspy sort of wheeze. Kamara opened one of the water bottles and put it to his mouth. He made a half-hearted attempt to take the bottle, but with one hand in a cast and the other hooked up to various machines he didn’t get far, so he just took a couple of sip.

'Better?' said Kamara, settling on the edge of Tommy’s bed when he was done.

'Abigail,' Tommy said, or croaked rather, 'You are munificent.'

Her eyebrows shot right up into her hairline, but all she said was, 'Thanks, sir.' Which I also noticed, but at the time I thought must be a joke. Which I found out later it was, just not in the way I’d been thinking. 'Dr. Walid will be here in a minute to start poking you, just so you’re warned.'

'Abdul!' said Tommy, with all the enthusiasm of the truly stoned. 'A soldier against the forces of ignorance, a true scholar of the demi-monde, a healer of wounds both physical and psyloligsm. Psycholigel.' He frowned as his ears, which were presumably more sober, caught up to his mouth. 'Hmm.' And he lifted his hand — the one with the wires, not the one in the cast — fingers closed like he was making the chef’s-kiss motion. There was a weird feeling, like you feel when you’re just about to push down on the gas pedal at a red light.

'Oh, god,' said Kamara, with the kind of resigned concern that pretty much everyone has when they’re exposed to Tommy for any length of time, and grabbed at his hand. 'There will be absolutely none of that,' she said in a very bossy tone of voice which I was depressed to discover I found really sexy. 'You’re going to rest and not try something stupid.'

'Have you met Tommy?' I asked, momentarily forgetting that this was my future bride and the beloved of my heart, because honestly, 'Try Something Stupid' was practically his motto. See: volunteering to play rugby with people twice his size.

Kamara blinked. 'Did you just call him Tommy?' she asked, at which point Tommy made an irritated noise and fell asleep again.

#it's the mileage #ficcage of interest #rivers of london #fuck me I can do magic #I just want Nightingale's life to be difficult always

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moldisgoodforyou · 4 years ago

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spring formal

gif from @toesure

warnings: cursing and mentions of sex

wordcount: 2k

Of course, Rafe won out in the end.

The two had decided he would only pay for his half of the ticket for her sorority’s spring formal, upon his insistence. He wasn’t able to win the argument to pay for the whole thing, but with some sneaking around, he got her the dress she wanted too. Rafe caught Sophie looking at the same dress at least five times over one week, adding it to her cart and then exiting the tab, so he bought it when they were studying at the architecture studio while she got up once to grab more materials.

He presented the dress to her the day before the formal, when he dropped her off at her sorority house. “Hey, wait, I found you a little something.”

She paused, backpack in hand, and narrowed her eyes. “It’s never a little something with you.”

“Not true!” He protested. “I got you pizza last week when you were there late grading projects.”

Sophie laughed. “You got me a pizza, and you also got pizza for the four other TAs stuck there too. Who all love you now, by the way.”

“Good, as they should.” He grinned and reached into the backseat, pulling out a big cardboard envelope and handed it to her. She recognized the logo of the brand immediately and took a step back, shaking her head. “No. You didn’t.”

He shrugged, though he smiled. “Open it.”

She traced the tip of her finger over the brand’s logo stamped on the package carefully before ripping the cardboard open and sliding out the dress. It was a silk slip dress in a pretty light blue, the exact one she’d been eyeing. “How did you know?”

“You’ve been practically drooling over it online.” He teased. “I can’t wait to see it on you.”

“You really didn’t have to, I was gonna rewear one of my old dresses -”

“Nope, don’t start.” He cut her off abruptly, leaning over to meet her in a sweet kiss. “I wanted to do this for you, this is our last big thing before you - well, anyways.”

Her face fell a little like it did every time she was reminded that she was leaving him, and they both tried their hardest not to talk about it or think about it too often. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re gonna look killer, I’ll come pick you and the girls up at five tomorrow?” His car was the biggest of the group and he was the designated driver to get her, her roommates and their dates to the formal at the botanical gardens.

Sophie nodded with a grin. “Thank you, Rafe, I love it. It’s perfect.”

“You’re welcome. Night, Soph. Love you.”

“Love you too.” She gave him another quick kiss before leaving. The next day, Rafe came to pick her up right on time, walking to the door in his suit to pick her up. The whole house was practically buzzing with excitement, girls dressed to the nines with their dates in tow. He grilled Allie and Julia’s dates the whole drive there, much to the girls’ amusement, but eased up when Sophie reached over and pinched his leg as a warning sign.

He hardly let go of her all night, continually whispering sweet nothings in her ear about how damn good she looked. The more drinks they shared and the longer the night went on, the sweet nothings turned dirtier and dirtier, to the point that she couldn’t tell if the blush she wore was from his words or the alcohol. Once the bar was shut down and everyone started making their way out, Sophie grabbed his hand, leading him out to the connected hotel without hesitation.

He grinned and offered his arm instead so she could keep a better grip on him, a little wobbly in her heels. “Someone’s eager.”

“You’ve been instigating all night.” She scowled, flicking through her purse for the hotel keycard. Rafe withdrew it from his pocket, scanning them into the elevator. “I can’t help it, look at you. You’re beautiful.”

She tightened her grip on his arm, leaning into him and growing quiet as the elevator ticked up on the floors. “Shh.”

“Hey.” He nudged her gently after a moment. “What’s up? You’re quiet all of a sudden. Normally you’re running your mouth when you’re drunk.” He teased.

“Not drunk.” She protested, reaching up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

He just nodded, a little concerned but chalked it up to her being tired. It was around 1am, anyways, and he knew she had a long week. The two walked down the hall to their hotel room quietly, hand in hand, and he followed her in.

Sophie turned to him once they were inside, slipping her arms around his waist and stepping close. “I love you.”

“Love you too, angel. Are you okay?” He hugged her back securely, cupping one hand to the back of her head to keep her even closer.

“Don’t wanna leave you,” she mumbled, keeping her face buried in his chest while she hugged him tight.

“Hey.” Rafe frowned, rubbing a soothing hand over her back. “Thought we agreed to not talk about that.”

“There’s a chance I’m not sober so I can talk about whatever I want.” She argued, resting her head against his chest to hear his heartbeat, a constant measure of reassurement for her.

He laughed and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “I could hardly tell.”

“You’re not allowed to make fun of me.” She murmured, not wanting to let him go.

“Am too.” He scratched gentle circles on her lower back, enjoying her small hum of contentment. “You’ve been looking forward to this for forever, Soph, I don’t want you to be upset about it just because we’ll be apart for a little.”

“It’s more than just a little.” She pulled back to look up at him, biting her lower lip. “I’m still excited, just. You’ve always been there, you know? Even when we weren’t dating.”

He swept the pad of his thumb over her lip, trying to get her to relax. “You were so pissed when you found out I went here too, freshman year. Remember that? You came to a Delt party, into my home, and then had the nerve to ask what I was doing there.”

“I remember. I went home and called Carter and he told me to stay away from your house and to move on from high school.” She laughed, shaking her head. “If only he knew.”

“If only.” Rafe nodded in agreement, then walked over to his duffel bag for the night. “C’mere.” He pulled out a small, poorly-wrapped box, the tape haphazardly placed (which, in her eyes, was incredibly endearing).

Sophie followed him to the bed, taking a seat next to him and accepted the box. She fixed him with a pointed look, though her eyes betrayed her smile. “You need to stop getting me gifts.”

“I won’t stop doing that until the day I die. And even then I’ll send you gifts from the grave.” He teased, kissing her quickly. “C’mon, open it.”

She rolled her eyes but unwrapped it, setting the paper to the side. Once she recognized the Cartier logo on the box, she immediately pushed it back into his hands, eyes wide. “Rafe, I can’t -“

“Open it, Soph.” He grinned, having anticipated her reaction.

He wore at least two or three rings at all times and she had a habit of stealing them when they were together, or playing with his fingers and twisting the rings. When she wore rings on her own - if ever - they weren’t showy in the slightest, one a slim tarnished gold band that she had found in a thrift store and fell in love with the engraved initials on the inside. She liked to think it was a gift from someone to their lover, a quiet marker that they were theirs.

She sighed and flicked the box open, her throat feeling tight when she saw the ring - a Cartier love ring, no less - nestled in the box. “Rafe.”

“Sophie.” He mimicked.

“This had better be a fucking knockoff from Amazon.”

He laughed loud at that, shaking his head. “I’m offended you think I’d buy you a knockoff of anything.”

“I can’t accept this. You need to take it back, seriously.”

“Can’t take back something that’s been engraved.” He raised his eyebrows, prompting her to pull the ring out and see “my favorite” engraved on the inside of the ring - making her choke up even more, tearing up a little.

“Rafe, you didn’t.” She murmured, looking up at him with adoration. He nodded and took it from her, then took her hand. “I did. Don’t cry, I hate it when you cry.” He slid the ring on her finger with care, fitting it snugly around her second finger on the right hand.

She giggled, wiping away a tear. “This feels oddly ceremonial.”

He smirked. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure your real ring would go on this finger instead.” He tapped her ring finger on her left hand. And then, because maybe a comment like that felt all too soon - even though he knew he would go out and marry her tomorrow if she asked - he added quickly, “But this’ll be flashier when you flip people off.”

She immediately blushed as his comment, ducking her head down. “That’s if you think you can put up with me for that long.”

“Hey.” He nudged her chin up with one finger, making her look at him. “I’ll be around as long as you’ll have me.”

Sophie was bright red now, though she was beaming. She shoved his shoulder playfully as she shook her head. “Stop, you’re embarrassing.”

“Nah, you love me.” He nudged her back and she swatted at his hands until he tried grabbing at her wrists. “Say it.”

“No.” She giggled, trying to grab at his arms. It ended up turning into a full on wrestling match, both of them trying to land on top. She finally won out after a moment, a little breathless as she laid on top of him, pinning both arms to the mattress. “I’m stronger than you.”

“In your dreams.” He grinned at her and leaned up to capture her lips with his. She kissed him back, dragging it out until she had to stop to breathe. “Rafe?”

“Yeah, angel?”

“Thank you, I mean it. I love you.”

He laughed and nudged his nose against hers. “I know.”

Her jaw dropped in mock offense. “Love you too would suffice.”

“Already did.”

“Well I want to hear it again. We don’t say it enough.” She insisted, releasing his arms so she could comb her fingers through his hair.

He laughed, pressing into her touch. “Is that so?”

“It is so.” She scowled and tugged a little on his hair. “And we’re gonna be on the phone a hell of a lot more once I leave, so I think we should start a habit of saying it more.”

Rafe nodded and swiftly flipped them over, sliding his hands up her body. “I can do that. I love you,” he kissed her once, “I love you,” a kiss along her jaw, “I love you,” a kiss along her neck.

She grinned, her scowl immediately gone. “Keep going.”

“Say it back.”

“Hm....no.”

“Do you want me to eat you out or not?” He asked point-blank, knowing it’d make her squirm.

She groaned, just as he expected, and blushed red. “Why are you always so crude?”

“Because you love it. And me.” He trailed his fingers down her stomach, tracing along the silk material of her dress. She tensed under his touch, her breath catching in her throat. “I do. I love you. Even if you drive me crazy.”

“In more ways than one, yeah?” Rafe smirked, reaching up to tug the straps of her dress down her shoulders. She tugged at his hair to stop him in his tracks. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He responded, pressing a kiss to her collarbone.

“This is one of our last nights guaranteed alone before I have to go, so make it count.”

He laughed and leaned closer, kissing her soundly. “Is that a threat?”

She grinned, nipping at his lower lip. “It’s a demand.”

taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @sunshineitsfine44 @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23

#FUCK he's so hot in that gif #I'M SORRY i couldn't follow thru with the smut idk why #letting u guys down #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron obx #obx fanfic #outer banks #obx #college rafe #frat rafe #mine #rafe x sophie

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juju-on-that-yeet · 3 years ago

Text

At My Worst (Chapter 1)

Work Summary: Thanks to his enduring popularity in the fandom, The Author pops back into existence and the egos must suddenly contend with someone they thought was gone forever coming back from the dead. No one is more shocked than Dr. Iplier, who can't help but remember how things used to be - and slowly fall back into bad habits, despite his better judgement.

Warnings: Mild descriptions of past violence/discussions of death (more tags on AO3)

Read on AO3

Enjoy!

Last he knew, Dark was ripping his eyes out.

Then, he was nowhere and nothing.

Now, he suddenly is, where before he wasn’t, and the rush of sensation returning is terrifying and paralyzing. But he still knows who he is, he knows his name and that he’s a figment, and he remembers his life. Rather, his previous life, he suspects.

It doesn’t take long for The Author to get his thoughts back in order and regain the presence of mind to look around. He appeared standing, and somehow didn’t fall, but he doesn’t trust his legs enough to move just yet. He’s surprised by the fact that he can look around, that the eyes he viscerally recalls losing are back in his head, fully functional. The area he’s in looks familiar, reminds him of the forest his cabin sat in, but it becomes apparent that the place is different now. The trees are less wild, the ground more even. He’s standing on a path, perhaps a nature walk or hiking trail. Last he remembers, there were no such trails in his woods.

He finally walks, letting his instincts take him to where his cabin should be, though he already has a feeling it won’t be found. Sure enough, he goes as far as he can down the trail, leaves the path and goes onward, and eventually finds himself at the edge of a neighborhood. Where the cabin used to be is a two-floor house, probably built for a family with kids, and in the surrounding street are even more such houses.

Author doesn’t know how much time has passed, but clearly, it’s been a long time since his cabin stood. He has to wonder what became of his books, his life’s work. Were they saved by the other egos, or are they forever lost?

For a moment, he isn’t sure what to do. But he’s a clever man, so he thinks. If he exists, surely the other egos must be around somewhere, too. All he has to do is find them. But if they aren’t here, then where?

He walks back the way he came, back to the trail, passing the place he appeared in and continuing onward. By the time he makes it to the trail’s beginning, night has fallen, and the parking lot by the trail is empty. He walks past the parking lot, comes to a road, and walks. It’s not so late that no cars are driving, at least; it only takes a few whizzing by his upturned thumb before one decides to stop.

“Where you headed?” asks the driver, an ordinary-looking man with a moustache. Author wonders how entertaining he’d be in a story.

“LA,” Author says, settling into the passenger seat like he belongs. For having not existed at all twelve hours ago, his easy confidence returns quickly.

“Heh, aren’t we all?” the man chuckles, pulling off the roadside to start driving. “Anywhere in particular? I can put it in my GPS.”

“Not really,” Author says, “Just get me to the city and I’ll take it from there.”

The man shrugs, but doesn’t pry. Maybe he wouldn’t be a protagonist, but possibly a character just there to help the protagonist along, as he is now. Then again, his unquestioning nature would make him easy death fodder, too.

On the way to the city, Author tries to look around the car, just to see if he can figure out what day it is. The radio playing tells him the day of the week and the month before long, but he can’t figure out the year. It’s not a terribly long drive to the city (Author remembers how long it took to get to Dr. Iplier’s clinic, and the distance isn’t that different) (Oh, Dr. Iplier, he must be somewhere too, does he still hate Author for what he’s done?), and once he gets there, Author has but one favor to ask.

“Thanks for the ride, but quick question,” he begins as he unbuckles his seatbelt, “Any chance you have a pen and a notebook in your car I can have? Or even just a sheet of paper and something to write with?”

“Uh, sure,” the man answers, confused by the request but not so much that he won’t grant it. He rummages through the glove compartment until he pulls a notebook with some corporate logo, and a pen with the same branding. “Have these, got them from work a long time ago but I don’t need them.”

“Perfect!” Author exclaims, taking the notebook and pen. He flips through the notebook, taking in the sight of blank pages, empty canvases, ready for him to make his own. “Have a good one, man.”

The man nods, rolls up his window, and drives off, leaving Author standing on a random sidewalk just inside Los Angeles. But he’s not bothered, because he finally has his tools. He can do anything or get anywhere. He knows that Dr. Iplier’s clinic has likely gone the way of his own cabin if it’s been too long, but the egos must be somewhere in the city. Author doesn’t know why he feels that way, but he supposes his instincts have the right idea. He’s always been a creature of impulse, so he does exactly what he did when the sun was up and lets his legs carry him where they may.

When he gets hungry, he enters a fast food restaurant and opens his notebook again, this time to write. While in line, he reads the cashier’s nametag and puts pen to paper: When The Author reaches the front of the line and orders, Stella pays for his meal herself. And she does, without skipping a beat. Author stays in the building to eat, and internally snickers at the confused look he sees on Stella’s face when she realizes what she did, seemingly for no reason.

As far as Author can perceive, it hasn’t been very long at all since he last used his power. But his body can tell it’s been a long time, somewhere deep in his mind knows it’s been forever since he picked up a pen and changed reality to suit his needs. A part of him is glad he’s still got it, but how could he ever lose it in the first place?

Back to walking. It’s late at night, but his mind is too active to be tired. It wouldn’t be the first time he was up all night, whether pacing his cabin trying to untangle the next scene of a story, or painting LA red in search of inspiration, or tormenting a character in the woods, or staying up with Dr. Iplier until the sun came up and he had to return to his clinic in the early hours, yawning through a cup of coffee. Thinking of his doctor only makes Author’s mind buzz even more. How long has it been, truly? What must Dr. Iplier be like now? Can they start over again, now that Author’s been reset?

The more Author walks, the more he feels a pull to keep going. It’s as if there’s a GPS unit inside his brain, telling him which way to go. He has no clue where he’ll end up, but he follows anyway, not having anywhere else to go. Besides, perhaps he’s being led to the other egos, maybe some element of himself is being drawn to them. He still knows that he’s a figment, of course, and that being a figment makes him a little more magical than the average human, a little more special, even ignoring his reality-bending powers. Part of him wants to use his writing to get into a locked car and drive to where the magic inside him is leading, but even at this hour, he knows it’d be quicker to walk.

It’s morning by the time Author feels he’s gotten somewhere, nearly a day has passed since he found himself alive again. By now, the streets are once again full of people and cars, and the swelling sounds of conversation and car horns remind him of his trips into the city with Dr. Iplier. His feet finally come to a stop in front of a huge building. It doesn’t look very different from the other corporate skyscrapers standing along the street and stretching into the horizon, but it radiates magic. It’s a beacon, and Author can tell just by looking at it that this is where he’s meant to be, this is the place he’s meant to stay.

He’s startled out of his reverie by someone bumping into him, barking at him to watch it, and moving hurriedly along. Author is disgruntled, but has little time to get angry before yet another person does the same thing. He moves out of the way of traffic to stand under the magical building’s awning, away from the crowd. Amazingly, no one even seems to see him anymore. No one acknowledges him, or even looks at the building Author is standing in front of. Whatever magic it has, humans can’t see it. Perhaps that’s the point, perhaps the building’s magic is keeping it hidden. Author can’t help but be impressed. If he’s right, it must be Dark and Wilford’s doing; no one else would have enough power. Still, keeping a building shrouded constantly would take a lot of energy, and though Dark and Wilford are powerful, they aren’t powerful enough for something as big as this as far as Author remembers.

As if he needed more confirmation that it’s been a long time since he last existed.

Still, he’s made it to where he wants to be, and he’s not about to stop moving forward now. He walks to the door, pushes the double-doors open, and steps inside.

The doors open up into a wide lobby, high-ceilinged. Off to one side is another set of doors, wooden and old-looking. There’s quite a few other, more typical doors along the back wall, a couple labeled that lead to staircases and some without labels that likely lead to other rooms. There’s also an elevator in the center of the wall. The lobby is much bigger than the outside of the building would suggest, and Author has to assume it’s more magic at work. He has no more time to wonder, because one of the unlabeled doors opens.

Out steps another man, with hair swooped low and orange sunglasses and a tank top with the Bing logo on it, of all things. He stops mid-step at the sight of Author, and Author can’t help but pause, too. He doesn’t know who this person is, but he can tell he’s a figment. Not only that, there’s something too familiar in his hair, his face, his height. This figment is another one of Mark’s.

Author already felt like he’d found the right place, but now he knows for sure.

“Woah, how’d you get in here??” asks the figment, walking up to Author as his shock gives way to confusion. “Wait, are you a new ego?”

“You could say that,” Author replies with a shrug.

“Oh, sick!” the figment exclaims, now grinning with excitement. He reaches out to shake Author’s hand, and his grip is stronger than Author expects. “My name’s Bingiplier, but like, everyone calls me Bing. What’s your name, dude?”

“The Author,” Author answers, a little bewildered by Bing’s energy. Granted, he certainly seems like someone Mark would conjure up as a joke, but most of the true joke egos barely lasted a week.

“Oh cool, you write and stuff?” Bing asks. He frowns for a moment. “I gotta admit, though, I’m totally blanking on what video you’re from. I don’t watch all of Mark’s videos, but like, I don’t think anyone was expecting a newbie to show up soon.”

“I do write,” Author replies, though his mind is buzzing with the new information. No one’s expecting him? Then how is he here? “I can reality-bend with writing. I write it, and it happens.”

“Nice!” Bing says, “That’s, like, super-powerful. We haven’t had a real reality-bender show up in ages. Actually, your deal kinda reminds me of The–”

“Hey.”

A monotone voice, deeper than Bing’s, interrupts. Author and Bing both look to see someone else approaching. Author can’t help but grin, because this is an ego he recognizes. Googleplier’s hair is still long and shaggy, he still has his glasses, and even though figments don’t truly age, he looks older somehow, more mature. He’s not glitching the way he did when Author knew him, and his jaw is stronger, his stature more imposing. It takes a moment for Google to see Author past Bing, and it takes a moment more for him to register what he’s seeing. His eyes widen behind his glasses.

“Author? Seriously?” Google asks, incredulous.

“Wait, you know about him? Did I just miss the memo on a new ego coming or something?” Bing whines before glaring at Google. “Are you here for an actual reason, or just to butt into my conversation?”

“Ollie wants you, you won’t answer his pings, and the others are still charging,” Google answers, deadpan. Bing pauses a moment, face screwed up in confusion, before understanding slowly dawns.

“Oh, he did ping me. I was busy talking to the new guy.”

“Ping you?” Author interjects.

“Oh yeah, I’m an android!” Bing says brightly. “So’s Google, but he’s just the old default.”

“Leave already before you get dismantled,” Google growls at Bing, but his eyes don’t leave Author.

“Ugh, fine,” Bing sighs. He flashes Author a peace sign as he walks away. “See ya round, dude!”

Google waits until Bing is out of sight before approaching The Author.

“How are you here?” he asks, more bewildered than Author has ever seen him.

“You tell me,” Author scoffs, “You were always the know-it-all. All I know is that one second I didn’t exist, and the next second I did.”

“How long ago was that?”

“About a day? Popped into the woods where my cabin used to be.” Author stares hard at Google. “How long has it been? Since Dark tore my eyes out?”

Google hesitates for a long moment before responding.

“Six years,” he says.

Author’s jaw drops.

“Six years??” he gasps.

“Six years,” Google repeats. “It’s 2021, now.”

“When did Bing show up?”

“2017. Four years ago.” Google thinks for a moment. “Technically, that makes him older than you.”

Google’s right. Author was only a couple years old when Dark killed him. At this point, he’s been dead longer than he’s been alive.

“Jesus Christ,” Author mutters. He can hardly wrap his head around it.

“Jesus Christ is right,” Google growls, “How the hell did you get here? You died. You faded away.”

“I already told you I don’t know!” Author snaps. Google gives him a look like he doesn’t believe him. “Look, I appeared, I felt the urge to come here, and now here I am. So now what?”

“Now I have to take you to Dark.”

“Yeah, no. I remember how our last interaction went.”

“You have to,” Google sighs, clearly resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Every new ego has to meet with him–”

“I’m not new.”

“–And besides, nothing in this building happens without him knowing. I don’t like dealing with him either, but I’m not about to get in trouble for not telling him about you.”

“No choice, huh?” Author sighs. “Alright, let’s get this over with, I guess.”

Google leads Author to the elevator in silence. He presses the button for the sixth floor – the highest one – as Author thinks.

Six years. He still can’t conceive of it. Even for a normal human that’s a decent chunk of time, but for a figment, it’s like a lifetime. Plenty of figments don’t even make it to six years old…though clearly, Google and Dark have, and Author has to wonder who else has. Six years and six floors of this building means a lot of new people.

“Figures you and Dark stuck around,” Author muses to Google, “The fans always do love the grumpy ones. And now there’s Bing, and that “Ollie” and the “others” you mentioned…”

“That would be Oliver, Chrome, and Plus,” Google says, “The three of them are androids, other Google units, in fact.” That fact makes Author bark out a laugh.

“You got clones, now??” he snorts, “That’s awesome. Think I could borrow one for a story?”

“No.” Google’s response is instant, paired with eyes glowing icy blue.

“Alright, alright,” Author sighs, “Six years and you still haven’t gotten a sense of humor.” He pauses for a moment. “How many of us are there now?”

Last Author recalls, there were eight, including himself. Google barely needs a moment to mentally calculate it before he has an answer.

“Twenty-one,” Google answers.

“Twenty-one??” Author exclaims, jaw dropping.

“Twenty-two, now, with you. There’d be even more, but some have faded away.”

“Is anyone I knew gone now?”

“No, the oldest ones are still here.”

That means Dr. Iplier is still here. Author can’t help but feel relieved. He’s not sure what he’d do if he found out Dr. Iplier had faded away sometime during his absence. He’s so cheered by the thought that he forgets why he’s in the elevator until it finally stops at the top floor.

Right. Dark’s still here, too.

“I’ve already sent Dark an internal ping,” Google says as he leads Author out of the elevator. “He’s expecting you now.”

“Snitch,” Author mutters under his breath. Google rolls his eyes, but he chooses not to respond verbally.

The pair pass several doors as they walk, and Author wonders how many of them lead into the bedrooms of egos he hasn’t met. He wonders what Dark is like now. After all, Google seems to have barely changed aside from no longer glitching constantly. But he remembers how the people outside couldn’t even see this building, remembers the sheer size of the place, and knows that Dark must be much more powerful than he used to be to be able to pull it off. Too soon, Google and Author arrive at a door that’s much nicer than the others so far. Google knocks, something that the Google Author remembers would hardly ever do.

“Come in,” says a deep voice from inside. An older voice, but the same one that Author remembers well.

Google opens the door, and The Author steps inside.

Dark is not like Google. He doesn’t look the same as he did before. His hair is longer, swooped to the side. His eyes are still deep brown, nearly black. He’s wearing a suit and tie now, his skin is gray. Most striking is his aura. Where it used to be minimal, only wisps of smoke that showed themselves occasionally, it is now a swarming mass of writhing black tendrils surrounding him. It shakes even as Dark stares evenly at Author from behind a large wooden desk. Dark’s expression is cool and calm, and his hands are folded on his desk, but there’s tension in his shoulders and a hardness in his eyes.

“You’re dismissed, Google,” Dark says to Google, “But do not mention this to anyone.”

Author glances at Google, who nods and leaves, closing the door behind him, leaving Author and Dark alone.

“So,” Author says breezily, pushing down and hiding his discomfort. He’s not scared, but he does feel awkward, and a little annoyed to have to see Dark at all. “Nice place you got here.” He flops into a chair in front of Dark’s desk. “I hear there’s twenty-two of us now, crazy how time flies.”

“Exactly how did you come back?” Dark asks, without a hint of humor.

“I told Google like three times, I don’t know!” Author says, his annoyance getting the better of him. He takes a breath and calms before continuing. “I don’t know. I woke up in a forest, the same one where my cabin is. Or used to be, it’s just houses there now. I hitched a ride to the city and walked until I got here. It’s been about a day since I woke up.”

“I see.” Dark sighs, leaning back slightly in his seat. “This has never happened before.”

“I’ve gathered that.” Author frowns at Dark. “I might as well address the elephant in the room. Are you gonna pull out my eyes again or what?”

“No,” Dark answers, voice tight and aura swarming faster, “I will not. Things have changed since then, that is no longer how I deal with unruliness.”

“Is that what you call it?” Author mutters, “‘Dealing with unruliness?’ Does that make you feel justified for killing me?”

“You’ve been gone for six years,” Dark snaps, “Don’t pretend you know anything!” All at once, Dark’s form cracks, a shadow of himself turns away to scream in frustration. The scream is cut short, the whole thing lasts only a moment. Despite himself, Author nearly jumps out of his skin.

“What the hell was that!?” he shouts.

Dark settles himself, chuckling quietly. His aura calms somewhat, but it continues to churn the air.

“As I said, things have changed.” Dark rolls his neck, it cracks like the vertebrae are clacking against each other. “To put it in a way you would understand, my story has been rewritten in recent years. There’s a lot for you to catch up on.”

“I’ll pass,” Author retorts, “I’m not about to stick around here with you.”

“I’m afraid you have no choice.” Dark’s eyes go steely. “You may have guessed from the large number of us that Mark is much more popular than he used to be, which means we need to be more careful. You recall my desire to unite us all in a single building.”

“The building I died in, right?” Author snaps.

“Yes,” Dark replies coldly, undeterred by Author’s attempt to fluster him. “This building, in fact. The more popular Mark gets, the more recognizable we become, and the more vital it is for us to avoid attention. This building is imbued with magic to prevent humans from seeing or entering, and there are rules about the ways in which we may interact with them.”

“If you’re gonna tell me I can’t write my stories–”

“You can write as many stories as you like,” Dark says smoothly, “And you may use humans as…protagonists, if you so choose. But your stories may not be published, and you may not develop close relationships with humans.”

“And if I break the rules?”

“You get to visit my void.” Dark grins. “A place made of pitch, so dark you cannot see your hand in front of your face, cold and just quiet enough to hear its voices. It only takes a few hours to break someone weak. For someone strong, maybe a week.” He tilts his head. “I suspect a day or two in there, with no one to control and nothing to do, will drive you mad. At the end of a week you’d be tearing off your own skin just to feel.”

Author wants to scoff at the dramatics, but there’s something in Dark’s eyes and posture that makes him believe it.

“What if I leave anyway?” Author asks, “Strike out far away and find my own place?”

“Then you’ll have all twenty-one of us looking for you, whether actively searching or keeping an eye out. Once you’re found, the punishment would be immense. We’ve had egos run off before. The longest one ever stayed lost was eighteen days. Perhaps you could last longer, but your punishment would be that much longer as well. And if my void does not deter you, there’s a holding cell in the basement that’s designed to cancel out magic and keep figments contained indefinitely, where you can stay until you come to your senses.”

Author glowers, considering. It’s clear that he has no choice but to go along with the arrangement, but he’s too stubborn to give in yet.

“Any other rules I should know about?” he asks derisively, “Is there a dress code? Do I have to ask you if I want dessert after dinner?”

Dark glares at Author for a long moment.

“My, not even death could change you.”

He lets his own words hang in the air before continuing.

“The other main rule here is that you cannot harm another ego. Self-defense or defense of another ego won’t be punished, but aggression and attacks will.”

“That’s rich, coming from the one who tore my eyes out,” Author growls.

“You can watch your attitude,” Dark snaps, voice dangerous and aura waving wildly. “I’m still the leader, and you still need to respect me. You may not have changed, but I have, and I am much stronger than you can imagine. If you continue to draw my ire, you will find out just how much stronger I’ve become.”

Dark wasn’t nearly this imposing back in Author’s heyday. He didn’t have this maturity, this intimidating tone of voice, this simmering rage that only shows itself in bursts. He used to be pettier, whiny, more mean than cruel. There was a reason Author didn’t fear him, and it was that he could tell, clear as day, that Dark was threatened by him. But the Dark that sits before Author now is not threatened. He’s angry, but not defensive. He means every word he’s said to Author, and Author knows that Dark will make him regret pushing his buttons if he persists.

So he stays silent for a long moment, and Dark’s aura gradually calms, and his expression smooths back out.

“Good, we understand each other,” he says, “Now, you need to meet the other egos. I’ll call a meeting for the others.”

“Google said the others I was around with are still here,” Author says, remembering, “Are they coming, too?”

“Yes,” Dark says, “But their meeting alerts will have…context. They’ll know it’s you before they arrive.” He sighs then, raises a hand to rub his forehead. “Speaking of context, there’s something you should know before this meeting occurs.”

“What’s that?” Author asks, curious. Perhaps a little nervous, given Dark’s behavior, but he’d never admit it.

“After you died, a new ego appeared, one who looked somewhat like you, who had no eyes. It came about that he had all your memories, but he wasn’t you, isn’t you. His name is The Host, and as far as we all knew…you became him, you were reborn as him.”

Author thought he was done being surprised, being shocked. But this revelation is the worst of all. He became someone else? There’s an ego here that has his same history, and the six years he missed on top of that? A clone like Google has, but one that has a different life, has a life at all. Someone who’s The Author, but isn’t. Someone The Author was supposed to be. The one who came from the ashes of Author’s death. While he spent six years in darkness, this other him, this Host, was living the life that should’ve been his. It only gets worse the more Dark explains. Author hardly perceives Dark’s words, but he perceives their meaning, especially when another name is mentioned. The shock builds and deepens.

It’s not enough that Host now has Author’s body, his memories, his life.

He has his love, too.

His doctor.

Dark explains that Dr. Iplier and Host have been in a relationship for years, and something inside Author crumbles.

This is the man he was so excited to see again, the man he’d hoped he could start over with once he found him. He’d dreamed of that on his long walk to the building, dreamed of Dr. Iplier lighting up at the sight of him, dreamed of them both apologizing to each other for how they ended things, dreamed of them reconnecting, rekindling, loving each other all over again. But the dream shatters further the more Dark speaks, and the more Dark speaks, the more Author’s vision tunnels and the louder the blood rushes in his ears. Dr. Iplier didn’t wait for him. He moved on. He moved on with this facsimile of Author, and did so a long time ago.

Author doesn’t hear what else Dark says, he’s too busy thinking. But no matter how much he thinks the situation over, he can’t accept it. He won’t allow this ache in his chest, this burning in the back of his eyes. Dr. Iplier may have moved on, but some part of him must still love Author, if he moved on with the newer version of him. The way they loved each other was like nothing else, even six years later there’s no way Dr. Iplier has forgotten Author, has forgotten what their love felt like, has stopped missing it. Author will find his way back to him somehow, fix their relationship and fix his own breaking heart.

There has to be a reason Author came back to life. There’s no possible way him and Dr. Iplier could end like this. And Author may be a lot of things, but he’s not a quitter.

He can’t give up on Dr. Iplier, his heart won’t let him.

#markiplier fanfiction #the author #markiplier the author #dr. iplier #darkiplier #my writing #fanfic #markiplier #at my worst #how many chapters will there be? who knows! not me XD #i'm hype for this tho owo #poor author; getting blueballed by himself from the future/present :/

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woopboopboop · 4 years ago

Text

caffeine crash

A/N: fashionmajor!harry has been living rent free in my mind and i thought i need to get it written so here it is! tell me what are your thoughts on this or if you have any other fashionmajor!harry ideas or any ideas tbh. my ask is always opened. happy reading! :)

TW: one or two foul language

[coffee binging, demon dummy and disturbed sleep with fashionmajor!harry]

The ringing sound grows closer each second before she opens her eyes to realise that she has fallen asleep on the couch, again. y/n sits up groggy and disoriented, blinking for a few times to adjust her vision against the bright light illuminating the longue. She doesn’t pick up the call right away but rather shifts her gaze from her phone to the clock on the wall.

11:47 o’clock at night.

It is still early but for someone who haven’t been sleeping well for over a week, all that she can think of is that she is finally going to have more than four hours of sleep. More than four hours of heavenly sleep.

When her eyes return to her phone, the ringing stops. She waits for a few more seconds for another ring while picking up her book from the floor and shuts her laptop. The sleepiness catches up fast when the flat is silent and comfortably cold. Both make her look forward to her precious slumber. Since there is no sign of upcoming call, she stacks her book on her laptop, ready to carry them to her room.

Then her phone rings.

Voice cracking and breaking with sleep, she answers the call without looking at the screen which left her wondering who the hell decided to ruin her potential four hours of sleep. “Hello?”

“Hey. It’s Harry.”

“Hmm?” The voice on the other line is low causing her to take a moment in recognising who it is. From the top of her head, there’s only one Harry that she knows.

“y/n, you’ve gotta help me,” he says in a hushed tone, “I think this studio is haunted.” Well if it isn’t her beloved flatmate and his untimely joke.

“Styles,” she says, stifling a yawn, “I know I barged in your room in the middle of the night last week. I’m sorry, alright? Doesn’t mean that you can pull a prank on me like this –”

“I’m not joking, y/n. I swear the fucking mannequins in this studio moved!”

Leaning back on the couch, she closes her eyes and sighs. “The mannequins? Really?”

There is rustling and she can hear his whispered curses. “y/n, please. I need your help.” There’s a slight quiver at the end of his words and her eyes open. “Can you… can you come get me?”

Any other day, she would ignore the call but she doesn’t find it in her to do so at that moment. She is a bit surprised to be honest. It’s rare to hear her flatmate who is usually confident (overly confident most of the times) and a tease that scared.

What if something is in fact happening to him? Certainly, it is not ghost but there are other possibilities. She sighs once again; guess she’s not going to have her good night’s sleep any time soon.

“Fine… just – where are you?”

///

The hours spent looking at the bright laptop screen where he is currently working on his sketches is straining his eyes and the angle in which he has been hunched at in the chair is starting to grind the muscles on his back. He finally let go of the mouse, rolling his head back and taking off his earphones as he closes his eyes.

The studio at night especially during a non-assignment week feels a little… off. At any other time, the place is filled with ticking of sewing machines, typing of keyboards, clicking of mouse and of course questions of who have extra pins or needles echoing around the room.

It’s lively.

Now, it’s empty except for him and there are only two sounds that he can hear; whirring of the air conditioners and also the faint music from his earphones.

Creak. His eyes snap open, head turning to the left side of the studio where the sound comes from. Okay, make that the third sound he can hear.

Maybe it’s not a good decision to do so because as soon as he turns to face that side of the studio, he is looking straight at all of the mannequins placed there. And it is silent. And creepy. One of the mannequins stand out more than others. Its dead eyes are looking directly at him.

“God, who think that giving them eyes is a good idea?” He grumbles to himself, shaking away any weird feelings and quickly turning to his laptop.

For the next minutes, his earphones are discarded on the side of his laptop while he focuses on his work. Halfway through adding shading and shadows on the sketches, out of the corner of his eyes, there is a slight movement. He tries to act unbothered despite his heart picking up pace at the thought of anything other than him in the room is moving.

Creak. He freezes then, heart thumping while he glances surreptitiously over the eerily looking mannequins crowd. He is not sure which is worst; the one with the dead eyes looking straight at him and is still doing so or one of them, that he is pretty sure has been facing the large studio window minutes ago, has its head tilted towards him.

The latter. For sure.

“Fuck’s sake…” he whispers, trying to control his breathing from getting too rapid. Looking over his fourth cup of coffee, he is nodding towards the array of disposable brown coffee cups on the table. “Of course, it’s the coffee. Too much coffee probably. God, I’m so tired and this took hou –”

He shuts up immediately when there’s another creaking sound. This time, when he turns his head ever so slowly, there is no movement but the mannequin that has its head tilted before has its arm stretched out half way.

God forbids if he is looking away from that thing again, he is surely going to be attacked. Eyes still on the mannequin, he grabs his phone blindly and call whoever is on his recent calls list without even planning on a proper course of action. All done from the corner of his eyes.

The sound of ringing fills his ear as he watches around him, taking in if there’s any shift happening. “Come on… pick up… pick up!” He hisses over the line. It feels like forever before it clicks and he hears a female voice, groggy with sleep. He takes off his phone from his ear for a moment to see who exactly is he calling.

y/n.

She is rightfully irritated over the phone given the fact that he is interrupting her sleep but his safety is more important. There’s no way he is going to be dead before finishing his study and totally not because of those damn mannequins.

However, he is also very much aware that he is not in any way equipped to deal with spirits, ghosts or demons. Not alone, at least. So, any chance that he has to get help is important even if the last resort is to beg for it. Since saying the studio is haunted and one of the mannequins is moving are not enough sign for help, he relents the last of his pride and go for the last resort.

“y/n, please. I need your help.”

There’s a three very long seconds after his short plead. And in that seconds, he keeps his eyes on the mannequin, waiting for it to make another move. Then, at last, he hears her sighs heavily and asks him where he is.

As soon as y/n hangs up, he realises that he is left alone with the creepy crowds on the left side of the studio. Fear creeping up his spine and he just hopes that if anything could happen right that moment, it is for y/n to be there a little bit faster.

///

It's not until she is out the door the question of how she is going to get to Harry strikes her. Hers and Harry's campuses are not that far from their flat with hers being closer compared to his. The only problem is that he is approximately 10 minutes away from the flat and she sure is not going to walk 10 minutes to his campus at night.

Re-entering the flat, she checks if she is lucky enough to find his car keys hanging by the wall hook near the front door. And she is, which brings her to this moment of driving his car to pick him up.

At times she wonders why he opts for walking when he could just drive. It defeats the purpose of having a vehicle she thought but then again, it’s Harry. Most of the times, she doesn’t know what is going on in his mind.

As she reaches the gate, she prays with every fibre in her body that she will get through the guard without any bombarding questions. Surprisingly, entering the campus is made easier with a piece of vehicle registration sticker with a campus logo. She gets in with a once-over and friendly hand raise.

"Well... that's easier that I thought it would be," she mutters to herself while navigating her way to the fashion department building by following the signs and remembering what Harry had told her.

Thankfully, the studio is on the ground floor and the large windows gives her access to see whatever is happening inside. From afar, she can make out a side profile of a figure. Afraid that she is going to honk at a possible stranger, she reaches out for her phone and dial his number.

The person seems to be startled before bringing their phone up to their ear and she hears his voice. It is in fact Harry.

“I’m here,” she says. She sees him straightening up, presuming that he is going to stand up and leave. Yet, he is still fixed to his previous position.

“Oh! Okay, alright. Um… can you come in?”

She rests her head against the steering, exhaling slowly. She swears if it isn’t for the fright in his voice, she would turn the car around and drive home. “I don’t know the wa–”

“Use the main door. The studio is on your right, first door.”

///

He doesn’t know he has been holding his breath until he exhales slowly when he heard the door to the studio opens. To know that he is not alone is relieving. So relieving that he wills to peel his eyes for few seconds from the mannequin to look over to y/n who is standing at the door with exhausted frown on her face.

He looks tired, she decides, but unscathed which is good. Her eyes trails following his to the other side of the studio and sees a herd of mannequins. She has to admit, they do look creepy. And with those eyes? She understands why Harry would be petrified because holy mother of god those dead eyes are looking straight into your soul.

Harry senses that she is not going to be standing there and waiting for him for the rest of the night. After all, he is the one who asked her to come and get him from the studio. Eyeing the demon dummy (a very fitting name if you ask him), his hands are doing the work of closing his laptop without shutting it down and practically just shoving all of his stuffs in his bag.

“It’s 12 on a Thursday night. And here you are, making friends with whatever spirits there is in this place,” she says to him bitterly, leaving Harry who is frantically locking the door behind her.

Harry is not really in a clear mind to give a retort. The rest of the coffee cups had been thrown into the bin in the hall as he follows her out of the building to the car park.

“Tell me, Styles. Am I not right if I say you’re hallucinating?” She asks as they drive away from the campus. She would love for him to drive the car home in return of disturbing her sleep. That is if she doesn’t notice his restless hands.

“I am not hallucinating! I see it with my own eyes!” He says defensively, turning his head to have a proper look at her while making his point.

“They are just plastic. Why don’t you just get out from there? It’s not like they are going to chase you.”

“Mannequins. I can’t just look away!” He shifts his gaze out the window, occasionally glancing to the side mirror, hoping those creepy herd don’t suddenly have functioning legs. “What if they grip me by the neck when I turn my back from them?”

She shakes her head. “You had too much coffee.”

At the mention of coffee, he remembers all of the sketches that he needs to finish. If he can’t finish all which he intended to do before all his plan went down the drain, at least, he can finish half of it. And he almost did. “Well, I need to finish my sketches,” he grumbles.

The tires spin beneath them. y/n shifts gears and the car rolls to a stop in front of their flat building. “No. You need sleep.”

The rest of their way up to their shared flat is filled with silence. Even when they are already in it. Both don’t feel like talking; y/n can’t wait to finally sleep while Harry starts to feel whatever happening just now is a little bit ridiculous.

“Hey, y/n,” he calls out. She has her hand on her bedroom door handle then, ready to push it down. “This stays between us, right?” He gestures the space between them, internally cringing a bit on the how he is embarrassed about the whole thing.

It is annoying to have him call her at ridiculous hour of the night but the reason behind the call is amusing nonetheless. “Your secret’s safe with me,” she shrugs.

Well, he half expected that. He thought that he is never going to hear the end of it for at least two days. Seems like she let it slide like she always does with most things.

“Besides, you’re worrying about the wrong thing. You should be worried about the mannequins standing outside your bedroom window tonight. Watching you sleep.” She says as she wiggles her eyebrows with a smirk on her face.

Okay, maybe he speaks too soon.

He gives her side-eye, seeing her entering her room. From the look of it, she surely is enjoying taking the piss out of him. “Hahaha. Very funny.”

As he enters his bedroom and flicks the light switch on, he hears her laughing and bidding him a ‘Good night.’ One thing that he knows is that it is not going to be a good night. He also knows that his bedroom light is going to stay on until the sun rises.

#i saw all the reblogs and likes! thank you!#writings #feedbacks are always appreciated #Harry Styles #fashionmajor!harry #fashionmajor!h #harry styles fic #harry styles fics #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #one direction imagines #one direction imagine #one direction preference #one direction preferences

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slytherinbarnes · 4 years ago

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Sub Rosa [43]

xiv. red sky at morning

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: violence, fighting, death, angst, blood, drugging for safe passage.

Summary: things don’t go according to plan on Luna’s rig, and everything you’ve been running from finally catches up.

a/n: hello lil moons, good news! I have now written and edited s6, which means we only have s7 left to fix write! also, I have a few things in the works so stay tuned for a few future announcements! okay, ily all and I hope you’re well! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

Luna disappears from the top of the rig before any of you can even catch her.

Instead, you’re all led into the rig and into a large room, where people are sitting around, eating, talking, listening to someone telling a story. One of Luna’s people tells you to wait here, and then they leave you alone, the five of you all staring at each other in confusion, wondering what to do next.

Jasper quickly decides that he no longer cares, and he leans back in his seat, listening to the story being told by the girl at the front of the room. Octavia sits motionless, and you start to worry that she’s in shock, not expecting that the Luna that Lincoln had told her about would turn you all away. You, Clarke, and Bellamy look around the room constantly, head turning towards the door every time you hear it open, searching for the woman who denied you.

You’re the first to spot her, Bellamy and Clarke looking the other way, and you reach out to touch each of them, getting their attention. “She's here.”

“Maybe she changed her mind,” Bellamy mumbles as he stands, and you and Clarke do the same, following him across the room and stopping in front of Luna.

Clarke opens her mouth to say something, but Luna beats her to the punch. “The boats return at nightfall. Then, you leave.” She pauses, and then adds, “Forever.”

Clarke tries again, “Luna, let us explain.”

“I said no.”

“No, you need to hear this.” Bellamy tries to reach out and grab her to stop her as she tries to walk away, but the man at her side reaches out for him and stops him. Still, she pauses, allowing Bellamy to continue, “There is something out there that is going to destroy us all.”

“Whatever it is, it can't reach us here.”

She brushes right past you, heading over to sit beside Octavia. You all stand there, dumbfounded, sure that you could convince her if you were given a second chance. Jasper gets up and leaves the two women, and you see Luna pass Lincoln's journal to Octavia, before you turn away with a frustrated huff.

After a brief conversation, Luna stands and leaves Octavia, before walking over to a couch against the wall with the man from earlier. They both lay back onto it, instantly cuddling, and you turn away, feeling like you shouldn't be watching. Bellamy leads you and Clarke back over to his sister, and you all sit around a small fire in silence, much like before. Bellamy and Octavia seem much more resigned to Luna’s denial, while you and Clarke continue to radiate anger and frustration.

Bellamy breaks the silence first, glancing over at Jasper and then back to your group with a smile. “Jasper's actually smiling.”

None of you say anything, and beside you, Clarke turns to glare at Luna. Bellamy shakes his head and sighs, “Hey, Temper Twins, let it go.”

You look up at him with a glare, and you’re sure Clarke is doing the same. You shake your head at him. “We can't just leave.”

Octavia mumbles, “It's not like we have much of a choice.”

Clarke turns to look at her, backing you up. “Maybe we do.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about putting the Flame into her head without asking.”

You turn to Clarke in shock, instantly shaking your head, “Wait, that's not what I meant.”

Octavia gives Clarke a look of indignation before adding, “This isn't like Emerson, he was trying to kill us!”

“You think I don't know that?”

Bellamy gives Clarke a serious look. “Clarke, we don't have to do this. We can fight, we can go back to Arkadia. We can arm up.”

“Fight who? It's an army of our own people. I don't like this any more than you do. But if Raven's right and the code in this thing can stop Alie…” She trails off, and sighs, “Give me a better idea.”

Someone nearby calls Luna, and she exits the room. Clarke’s eyes follow her movements until she’s gone, and then she turns towards you, her eyes pleading. You run through the options in your head. How to stop an army of chipped people who want you dead? Can’t shoot them, because they’re chipped. And they’re your people. Too many chips to fry with EMPs. Plus, no more bracelets. And that leaves…? You sigh, knowing that she’s right, and there’s no other way. You turn to look at Bellamy, and his eyes search your face, trying to decipher what you’ve decided. As soon as he figures out you’re with Clarke, his face morphs into one of resignation, and he turns to your twin. “We'll stay here. It's the only way they'll leave you alone with her.”

Octavia mutters, “Even Alie gives people a choice.”

Bellamy shrugs, “We gave Luna a choice. She said no.”

Clarke nods at you and Bellamy in thanks, before getting up and leaving the room, following Luna’s path out the door. The three of you wait for her to return, your eyes occasionally falling on Jasper, sitting in the corner, talking to the girl that was telling the story. You smile as you watch them, his face split in a grin, the first one you’ve seen on his face in months.

You don’t have enough time to contemplate what that means for him, because Clarke is back almost as quickly as she left, and based on the pissed off energy radiating off of her, she failed. She plops down beside you, and you all turn towards her with expectant looks. She doesn’t offer much in her explanation, just a grumble of, “She took the Flame and said I'd get it back when we leave tonight. So that’s it.”

You and Bellamy exchange a look, before your eyes land on one of the couches along the wall. Realizing there’s nothing to do now except wait, you turn to the others, “If we’re stuck here until nightfall, I’m catching up on some sleep at least.”

You don't wait for them to answer, you just stand and head straight for the comfiest looking one, and stretch out on it. The stress and lack of sleep from the last few days finally catches up with you, and you close your eyes, falling asleep in seconds.

Your mom stands in front of you, a small, clear chip in her outstretched hand. You peer down at the blue logo, the infinity symbol, before looking back up and meeting her gaze. She smiles, tilting her head to the side. “The City of Light is so wonderful, you’re going to love it. All you have to do is take the chip.”

You shake your head, and try to pull away, but realize that you can’t. Panic washes over you as you realize that you’re restrained, chained to the wall behind you. But you don’t want her or Alie to see your fear, so you lift your chin, defiant, and tell her, “I won’t do it. Nothing you say will make me do it.”

She smiles again, and turns to look at an empty space on her left. “I told you she’d resist. Bring him in.”

You feel dread drop in your stomach at the thought of who she’s talking about, but she doesn’t leave you waiting for long. The doors behind her swing open, and Bellamy is dragged in, bloodied and bruised, barely hanging onto consciousness. But he perks up as soon as he sees you, and you both try to run to each other, you pulling on the chains at your back, as he pulls against the guards holding him tight. He is brought to your mother’s side before they push him down to his knees and chain him to the bolts in the floor. Your eyes are locked on each other, and you miss your mother’s movements until she kneels down beside Bellamy, into your line of sight.

You glance over at her and almost immediately glance away, until an alarm goes off in your brain, triggered by the glint of metal in the light. You swing your eyes back towards her, and you see that she’s holding up a knife, your knife, a serene expression on her face. “Last chance to take the chip before I turn to other methods of persuasion.”

You don’t need to ask what she means, and you turn to Bellamy with a look of panic. He shakes his head, hard. “Don’t do it. No matter what, don’t take the chip.”

Your mother uses the knife to rip open his shirt, and you feel your lip quiver. He gives you a reassuring look. “I’ll be okay. Just promise me you won’t take the chip.”

Your mother lifts the knife to his chest, resting the blade against his skin, and tears spring to your eyes. You shake your head, and Bellamy pleads, “Promise me!”

You whisper, “I promise.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, your mother drags the blade across his skin. You can see him clenching his teeth together, trying to hold back his cry of pain, but it eventually bursts free, tearing right through your heart. You watch a line of blood run down his chest as your mother asks, “Will you comply?”

Your voice shakes, thick with emotion, but you keep your promise. “No.”

She lifts the knife again and drags it across his stomach, as Bellamy screams in pain. A sob breaks free from you, and the tears track down your face.

“Will you take the chip?”

“No.”

The process repeats: your mother cuts the love of your life and asks you to take the chip, but you keep your promise to Bellamy and deny her, every single time. You don’t know how long she’s been doing this when she drops the knife, the serene expression slipping from her face a fraction of an inch. She turns to the unseen figure, “This isn’t working.”

You ignore her one sided conversation, whispering Bellamy’s name, begging him to look up at you. His head dropped to his chest a few cuts ago, most of his skin stained with blood, nearly every inch of him covered in a cut. He weakly lifts his head and smiles at you, and it feels like a punch to the gut, the way he's still trying to reassure you, despite how weak he is. “Bellamy, you can’t take much more of this.”

He lifts his head, keeping it up. “Yes, I can.”

“If I take the chip, they’ll leave you alone. You’ll be safe.”

“No, I won’t. Because they’ll just use you against me like they did to your mom with Raven. And I’ll break. You’re so much stronger than I am, that’s one of the reasons why I love you.”

The tears rush to your eyes again, a new wave of emotion taking you over. You don’t get the opportunity to say anything else, because your mom is back, along with her calm demeanor.

And a gun.

You feel your stomach drop as soon as you see it, and you see the flash of fear on Bellamy’s face, one he quickly hides. She lifts the gun to his temple, and turns to you. “Take the chip, or he dies.”

You start to sob, “Mom, please. Stop, just stop! This isn’t you!”

She starts to countdown, “Three seconds.”

“Mom, stop! What would dad say? You can’t do this!”

“Three.”

You turn to look at Bellamy, panicking, but he shakes his head, mouthing, “You promised.”

“Two.”

You watch a single tear run down his face and you start to cry harder, begging. “Leave Bellamy out of this, please don’t do this!”

“One.”

Bellamy looks at you, his eyes full of love, and he mouths, “I love you more than the stars.”

You have a split second to process the words before a shot rings out, too loud in the small space, and Bellamy’s body hits the ground a second later. It takes a moment for you to process, your head stuffed full of cotton, your thoughts slow to connect, but as soon as you do, a gut wrenching scream tears from your chest and you lurch towards him, trying to reach him, despite the fact that you are still chained up. The chains pull at your body uncomfortably hard, but you don’t notice, don't care, as you drop to your knees and sob, staring down at Bellamy’s lifeless eyes.

You start to scream at your mother, yelling anything that comes to mind. “I’ll never forgive you for this, do you hear me? And I'll never give you what you want! We’re gonna shut you down, Alie! Are you listening to me, you evil bitch, you’re done! You’ll never win!”

Your mother turns away from you, still just as calm, waving at the guards by the door. “Get rid of him.”

They nod and start to walk towards him, and as they reach his body, she adds, “Oh. And bring me Clarke.”

You grow still, before the anger rips through you, and you jump towards your mother, filled with white hot rage, the intensity of it-

forcing you awake with a start.

You sit up with a gasp, looking around you, trying to gather your bearings. You almost cry with relief when you realize you’re still on Luna’s rig, and every part of that hellish nightmare was just a dream. You feel a hand touch yours, and you jump in surprise, turning to your left, and realizing that Bellamy is on the couch beside you. Judging by the sweat marks on his pants, he let you use him as a pillow. “Bad dream?”

You nod, still on edge, and he seems to sense that, because he gives you a soft smile. “You’re safe. I was here the whole time.”

You feel heat rush to your face, now embarrassed that you sweated all over him. And that he witnessed your panic. He reaches up and brushes a finger over your cheek, and the bruise on your face from Emerson, and you close your eyes, leaning into the touch. The first bit of quiet intimacy you’ve shared in a while.

He pulls away abruptly, and you open your eyes quickly, gaze lifting to his face. You can see the guilt written all over it, and it sends a wave of sadness through you. You reach for him, hands caressing each of his cheeks as you force him to meet your eyes. They lock with yours and you whisper, “I need you to love me.”

His eyes widen in surprise, and then switch to confusion before he mumbles, “I do.”

You know he does, but he still doesn’t get it, not yet. He still doesn’t realize that his guilt is holding him back from being with you fully, because he’s gotten in his head and told himself that he’s a monster, and he doesn’t deserve this, or you. But you know that he’s not quite there yet, and that’s okay, so you lean towards him, resting your forehead against his. He closes his eyes, relishing in the nearness of you, and you think of all the love you have for him, and how wonderful you think he is, hoping that he can sense it.

Someone clears their throat beside you and you pull back and turn to see Clarke, looking guilty for interrupting. “It’s time to go.”

You and Bellamy nod, silently standing and following her. You meet Octavia at the door, who’s already standing and waiting with your Grounder guide. When you reach them, he turns and leads your group outside, taking you through the oil rig and back up to the shipping container you started in. You look up at the sky as you walk, marveling in the brightness of the moon and stars out here over the ocean.

You're pulled back to the earth by the sound of the container doors being opened. You watch as the man who brought you here steps out, and Luna materializes out of the darkness to tell him, “Sorry, Cap, we gotta take them back.”

Someone hands her a bag, and she tosses it inside of the container before turning to you. “Your gear. You get your weapons once you land.”

You look around, realizing that you’re missing someone. “Where’s Jasper?”

Octavia nods back towards the room you came from. “Saying goodbye to his new friend.”

Everyone looks that way, exchanging a look, trying to decide who’s gonna go after him. When you realize that no one is moving, you sigh. “Okay, fine, I’ll go get him. But don’t leave without me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You head back towards the rig as you hear one of the men grunt to the others, “Inside.”

You turn and glance at them, watching as they step inside, before you turn back and start to walk towards the inside of the rig. You head straight for the room you just left, and stand in the doorway, searching every face, looking for Jasper. You roll your eyes when you don’t see him, and turn to the first person you see, a woman, with kind eyes and a warm smile. “Have you seen my friend? He has short hair, kinda tall and lanky?”

The woman gives you a knowing look. “He’s with Shay. They’re down below, with the storage. Taking the long way.”

You’re surprised at the amount of detail, but smile at her in thanks. “Thank you. Mochof.”

She smiles at your use of Trigedasleng, before you turn and jog off again, following her directions. You take the nearest staircase to the next level down, and step inside the room, pausing to listen. You smile when you hear voices, Jasper’s among them, and you start to walk that way. You come around the corner, coming face to face with them, and you yell his name, “Jasper!”

He looks up at you, and then his gaze focuses on something behind you as someone yells, “Shay, run before-”

They’re cut off by the sound of a loud thud, and you quickly turn around and see the man that guards Luna, Derrick, slumped in a Grounder’s arms. You glance at the other Grounder and see Luna thrown over his shoulder, and you start to back up quickly, away from the chipped men, and back towards Jasper and Shay. One of the men looks at you suspiciously, and you turn and run towards them, yelling, “She’s here, Jasper!”

He quickly turns to Shay, frantically pushing her towards the exit. “Go, tell your people to not take the chip.”

She hesitates, and he yells, “Run now! Go!”

You reach him just as she turns to run, but she freezes in place when an arrow lands in her back, and she hits the ground with a scream of pain. Jasper yells out in anger, and you turn to look at the chipped men, realizing that the Captain is lifting his crossbow again, aiming at Jasper. “Jasper, run!”

You dive towards him, pushing him out of the way as the arrow flies towards him, and he hits the ground beside you. A scream tears free from your chest as the arrow sinks into your shoulder from behind, the head of it coming out the other side. You look down at the arrowhead sticking out of you as you drop to your knees, the pain making you dizzy. You hear Jasper jump up and punch the Captain, but he’s unfazed and punches Jasper back, the force of it immediately knocking him unconscious.

You hear them coming towards you and you fall to your side, eyelids closing, hoping that they’ll fall for your deception. The footsteps come to a stop right beside you, and someone nudges you with their shoe, turning you over to get a good look at you. The movement causes you to roll over onto your shoulder, pushing the arrow deeper into your skin, and you have to work hard to fight back the scream of pain that threatens to tear from you. You keep your face neutral and your breathing even, waiting for a long second until you hear someone say, “We’ll come back for them. We need to get Luna tied up before she wakes.”

You hear the footsteps retreat and you lie there for an agonizingly long minute, waiting until you can no longer hear them before you peek an eye open. You’re relieved to find no one there so you sit up, groaning in pain as you do. You spare a look at your shoulder and the arrow sticking out of it, before you hear a soft gurgle from in front of you. You scramble to your feet, realizing that Shay is still alive, before running over to check on her. You drop to your knees beside her, sinking into a pool of blood, and you have a horrifying realization that the arrow must have hit an artery because she’s bleeding out fast.

She lets out a whimper of pain, and you look down at her, meeting her eyes. You whisper, “Shhh, it’s gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

Her hand shakes as she reaches for yours, and as you look into her eyes, you recognize them as the same eyes from the woman who told you where to find her. A pang of sadness pulls at your chest, and she gasps out, “Jasper says you’re from the sky, what’s it like?”

“It’s beautiful.” She coughs, hacking up blood, and you know the end is near. “If you think the stars are incredible from down here, you should see them from the sky. And the Earth? It’s the prettiest thing you've ever seen. So much blue, the ocean, covering the planet, kissing everything it touches.”

She smiles, coughing again, and you can hear the breath rattling in her lungs. She whimpers a little, caught up in the pain, and you try to hide your distress. She looks up at you, her eyes falling on the moon around your neck. “I thought nothing was prettier than the view from space, until I came down here. There’s so much color here. On the Ark, everything is gray, muted. But down here, everything is so bright and colorful. And the sounds, they’re like nothing I could ever imagine. My entire life I heard the quiet hum of the machines that powered the Ark, but on Earth, you can have complete silence or a cacophony of sounds. The sound of water rushing through the rivers, and the birds singing to each other every morning. The laughter and amazement of 100 teenagers and one fake guard stepping foot onto the ground for the first time in a century.”

You trail off, listening as her breathing struggles for a second, and then just stops. You lift a finger to her neck and feel nothing, and you drop your head, mourning for this girl that you barely knew. “Yu gonplei ste odon.”

You start to stand, deciding what to do next, when you hear the sound of footsteps coming back for you. You scramble back towards your earlier position, laying down on your side. Your eyes fall to the arrowhead sticking out of your shoulder, and you get a split second idea, one that you know you won’t like. Still, you grit your teeth and reach up, snapping off the end of the arrow, holding back a cry of pain as you do. You slip the sharp object into your sleeve and close your eyes, right as the footsteps come around the corner. You hear them stop near Shay, checking for any sign of life, and when they realize she’s dead, they come to you.

They stick their hand under your nose, checking for your steady breathing, before they reach beneath you and lift you, slinging you over their shoulder. They start walking and you open your eyes, watching carefully to see where they take you. They move lower and lower, deeper into the rig, until the sound of machine hum grows louder, reminding you of the Ark. And then they turn down a hallway, taking you to a single door that sits on the end. Beyond it, you can hear Luna pleading for someone to stop, and you know this is the right place.

You take a deep breath, and slide the arrowhead from your sleeve, gripping it tight in your hand. In one swift movement, you plunge it into the man’s neck. His reaction is immediate, and he drops you before he falls to his knees, dying quickly. Knowing you have no time to waste, you take off running, following the stairs to the top of the rig, and back out into the open air. You head straight for the container, looking around for other people as you do, relieved that no one is here. You unlock it the best you can with one arm, the pain in your shoulder making it impossible to use both. As soon as you swing the door open, Bellamy, Octavia, and Clarke all rush towards you. Clarke spots the arrow in your shoulder first, muttering, “Ohmygod.”

She pulls you towards her so she can get a better look, and you see the worry on Bellamy’s face, but you wave them both off. “I’m fine, but if you want to get to Luna before Alie does, then we need to go.”

You start to run off, but Clarke grabs your arm to stop you. “Wait.”

Before you can ask why, she reaches up and breaks off the end of the arrow, making it shorter. You let out a yelp of pain, and turn to her with a glare. She gives you an apologetic look. “No time to take it out, but at least this way you won’t hit it on anything.”

You shake your head before turning to run off again, this time with the trio on your heels. You run through the rig as fast as you can, practically flying down the stairs to reach P level again. You don’t stop until you reach the door at the end of the hall, past the man you killed earlier, and you rush in without hesitation, despite Bellamy yelling at you to be careful.

When you come into the room, you’re shocked at the scene in front of you. Jasper is tied up in the corner, and he seems okay, but there’s a girl, a child, crying near him. Luna is on the ground, clutching the dying body of the man she loves. Around her are the other chipped men, all dead and unmoving. You and Bellamy run to check on the child, cowering in the corner, while Octavia goes to Jasper. Clarke moves to Luna and Derrick, reaching them just as he takes his final breath. Luna’s reaction is instant, and she lets out a heartbreaking cry, clutching him close to her, and there’s nothing that any of you can do but watch as she mourns.

As soon as Luna realizes the rest of you are there, her tears stop. Just like when Octavia locked her emotions away after Lincoln's death, Luna does the same, putting away her sorrow in favor of anger. She agrees to take the Flame and fight Alie, but only after she gives a funeral for those that were lost.

As Luna informs her people of what happened and what her plans are, Clarke comes up to you with a knife in hand. “They have no medical supplies here, and I left everything I had in the rover. We’ll have to do it the old fashioned way.”

You grimace, but nod. “Great, sounds fun.”

She leads you outside, to where Bellamy is waiting with a torch, eyeing Clarke with suspicion. “Are you sure about this?”

“It's what we did with Lincoln, and he healed fine.” She passes the knife to Bellamy, “Heat the blade in the fire.”

He does as she asks, before looking at you. “I have to pull the arrow out before I can take off your jacket to cauterize the wound. Are you ready?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

You nod, “Then sure.”

You look at Bellamy, meeting his eyes as Clarke puts one hand on your shoulder, and one on the end of the arrow. With no warning, she pulls it out, and you groan in pain. She helps you out of your jacket, tugging your shirt down at the neckline to inspect the wound. “Okay, it looks good. No signs of poison.”

Bellamy passes her the knife and you give him a wary look. He reaches out for your hand, pulling you closer to him, and you lean against him as Clarke lifts the knife. “One...two…”

You grimace, waiting for three, but it never comes. Instead, you are met with the white hot flash of the knife as it touches your skin and closes your wound. You let out a cry of pain, the sound muffled by Bellamy’s shoulder as you press closer to him. Clarke gives you a second to recover, reheating the blade again, before turning you around to look at the exit wound. After nodding in satisfaction, she holds up the knife again. You turn away, not wanting to watch, and Bellamy holds you close. This time she presses the knife to the wound with no countdown, getting it over as quickly as possible. You let out another cry of pain, along with a string of curses, and Clarke looks over her work before tearing off a strip of her shirt and wrapping your shoulder the best she can.

She smiles at you, nodding towards the door. “All done. Now let’s go join the others.”

Bellamy puts out the torch and you follow her inside, all three of you handed cups full of an unknown liquid as you join Octavia and Jasper. You all nod in thanks, searching for Luna, watching as she prepares for the ceremony. Your eyes watch the people too, uneasy at the thought that Alie could still be lurking in someone nearby. Bellamy voices the same concern. “Any one of them could be chipped and we'd never know.”

Clarke nods. “If they are, they'll make their move before we put the Flame in Luna. Stay sharp.”

Luna comes from the other side of the room, stopping in front of Clarke. “The ceremony is about to begin.”

She starts to turn away, but Clarke reaches out for her, stopping her. “Luna, wait. I'm so sorry, but now you see that we're facing an enemy that will do anything to win. She won't stop until she has everyone.”

“People I love died today. Needlessly, at my hand.” She lifts her hand, the one not occupied by a cup, revealing the Flame. She looks down at it as she finishes, “I can't let that happen again.”

She turns away, to face the others, lifting the Flame high for them to see. Everyone in the room stands. “As we prepare to give our brothers and sister to the sea, we honor their lives.”

She lowers the Flame and lifts her cup, “Kom woda 'so gyon op, gon woda 'so kom daun.”

As the room repeats the phrase, Octavia translates, “From water we are born, to water we return.”

Everyone lifts their cup and takes a drink, and your group follows suit, honoring their tradition. Luna turns back to you as she finishes, and Clarke steps right into business. “If we're gonna do this, we have to hurry. Alie will send reinforcements, and we have to find someplace private to perform the Ascension.”

“You believe that to defeat an enemy who will stop at nothing, you must stop at nothing. How is that different from 'blood must have blood'?”

You all freeze, realizing that she doesn’t seem to be on the same page with the rest of you. Octavia protests, “Wait a second, Luna. You can't just-”

She cuts herself off when she falls unconscious, sinking to the floor. You turn to Bellamy, worried, just in time to see him sink the ground. Jasper is next, and Clarke turns back to look at you, her cup falling from her hands in shock. You watch the glass fall, and you fall with it, going unconscious before it even hits the ground.

You wake up to the feel of fingers brushing over your face, pushing your hair back.

You open your eyes and see Bellamy looking down at you, concerned. You sit up, clutching your head, wishing the heavy feeling would dissipate quickly, the thick cloud too difficult to think through. Bellamy continues to watch you and you meet his eye, and smile, trying to reassure him. “That was not how I was expecting that to go.”

You hear a groan from your right, followed by, “Me either.”

You look over and meet Clarke’s eyes, as she sits up, gathering her bearings. She looks down at the container in her hand, sliding the lid back and sighing in relief when the Flame is tucked neatly inside. You find your knife near your boot, and Bellamy and Clarke find their guns beside them. You all stand, just as Octavia rolls over, picking up Lincoln’s notebook and sword. Jasper is the last to pull himself to his feet, following the rest of you as you wander to the shore, staring out at the water.

The clouds are hanging low today, blocking any view of the ocean beyond, but you already know that even if the sky was clear, you’d never spot the oil rig. As you all look out at the water, contemplating the events of the last 24 hours, Bellamy voices the thought running through all of your minds. “Now what?”

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #the 100 fanfiction #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader

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hayjeon · 5 years ago

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Tips on creating fun fanfic headers!

i had so much fun writing the fanfic writing tips yesterday and i got a few more questions about header-making, and so i decided to make one more of these! i hope these tips help somebody out there! hope you enjoy :)

p.s. these tips won’t require any hard editing skills or photoshop skills, nor any expensive tablets/apps!

typically i spend around ~5-10 min creating one header, and that’s either after i think of/finish a fic. i have so much fun doing it and sharing it with you that i figured i’d share how i do it!

why headers?

as I talked about in my fic tips, one of the most eye-catching things about fics are headers. when i’m scrolling through a rec page, my home page, a tag, or even someone’s masterlist, i’m immediately drawn to well-made headers. that’s what captures my attention, and then i’m more drawn in by the content. so, you can say that headers is your own version of an ad for your own fic, or an extension of it (like the cover of a novel!)

if you were writing your own book, imagine how much time you’d spend figuring out what you wanted your cover to look like. i try to have as much fun and invest as much time making my own headers because it’s just the cherry on top to my finished product :)

disclaimer: BUT HEADERS ARE NOT NECESSARY/DO OR DIE! if you don’t feel like you want to do this, then keep writing! its ok! this is just a suggestion. i’ve seen plenty of well-written fics without headers at all, so don’t beat yourself up over not having one/not wanting to do one. this is truly just a fun, extra kind of thing, and only keep reading if you want to learn how i do it! :)

tips for people who don’t want to make headers: if you still want something to make your fic stand out, use gifs! i use them in my drabbles a lot! this will at least give ur fic a lil boost!

how to find pictures

I typically use unsplash, which is a free website in which photographers upload their HQ pics for free use. the pics are really high quality, typically stock photos, and don’t have any logos on them like other ones on google. unfortunately, you won’t find any pics of the members or anything, but you’ll find beautiful stock photos of typical scenes like “ocean scene” or “desert scene.” I found the stock photo for cut me open (shown below) on that site by just looking up “medical” or “doctor”.

i used to use google a lot and just use keywords like “desert scene HQ” and edit the search settings to deliver HQ pics, and a minimum # of pixels, but unplash is definitely better in terms of quality, more aesthetic photos, and no logos/watermarks.

on some occasions, i will screenshot some scenes of youtube videos, turning up the quality to 1080p or 4k and zooming in so that the pixelation is as crisp as possible, and then editing it later to look good (which i’ll explain in a second!)

the above photo was a scene from the specific characters from the drama, “100 Days My Prince” that I screenshotted from a youtube video that TvN uploaded, recapping the drama. I cropped it just right so that their faces were left out, which i’ll also mention soon!

things to look for when picking pictures:

you want the picture to reflect a specific motif/theme from your fic! if its a moody fic, then try to find a moody scene that you can edit with filters/lighting to look even moodier; or if the characters’ jobs are a big portion of the fic (like cut me open/doctor theme) try to look for stock photos with that shown very clearly!

make sure its high quality: tumblr really dumbs down the quality of the photo when uploading it, so try your best to find something with a lot of pixels in it so that when you start editing, you don’t sacrifice too much of the quality already

try to look for something simple/clean: a picture with too much subject (ie. people in the background, or too much detail) may end up taking away from the main point of your header, which is your title. so find pics without too much clutter!

try to make sure its landscape: which will help during editing to save some of the quality better.

editing your pictures

now that you have a specific photo you want to use, now its time to edit! I use VSCO CAM (free app) and my own apple photos cropping tool for faster crops.

crop/adjust: if your picture is too large/wide, crop it to at least a 16:9 ratio. i’d say aim for skinnier if you can, so that you don’t take up too much space (especially if you’re planning to add headers to your masterlist). also crop out any faces, any clutter, any unnecessary details, so you have a nice, clean slate to work on when adding text.

contrast/sharpen/clarity/white balance/etc.: i’m not gonna give you a lesson on photography, but i’ll tell you I learned like 80% of everything that i know just by fiddling with it on VSCO! So just try it out and play with the app, see what you can make of it. i’d say a rule of thumb to follow is that you want happier fics with a brighter tone, and moodier/angsty fics with a darker tone so that it can reflect the nature of the fic further, without saying anything!

if you wanna be extra af like me, then go a step further and photoshop your pics. this one is a good example; when i screenshotted this scene from another youtube video for my fic One Year My Love part 2, i was specifically looking for a scene that would showcase the ornate/regal details of their clothing/environment in contrast to part 1′s modest clothing/scene (the first header in this post).

i found this scene, but actually, this scene portrays the Crown Prince and the Princess, not y/n. So, the actors weren’t smiling at all! They were actually frowning at eachother in this scene, to portray the tension between the two characters and their marriage.

So, I took the extra step, adjusting the pic with VSCO so that their shoulders/chins were at the same level, cropped off their faces up until their lips, and then used the adobe photoshop free app to photoshop their lips to be SMILING at eachother!!!! subtle, but important!

call me crazy for taking that much time but i’m so proud of how it turned out and i loved every second of making this one. that way, this scene makes it portray the happy ending for Jungkook and y/n!

adding text to your header

you can use any app out there, but i really like Font Candy! I actually ended up buying the 2$ version of this and never regretted it, but you can actually find a lot of their basic fonts on the free version; I tend to use the fonts: OSTRICH SANS, BEBAS, TREND, and INTRO the most! these are pretty clean-looking, block letters that look good whenever i put them as my titles.

I love this app too cause you can easily control the spacing between letters to make them take up more space, add shadows, or even make them contrast their background using the overlay feature; like this one i made for wildest dreams (see how the text changes depending on what part of the photo its on? amazing! it’s literally with a click of a button!!)

And i’ll always add “written by HAYJEON” or “by HAYEJON”, space it out, and add it somewhere underneath as my own branding.

orrrrrr

if you want to be more creative, you can even go a step further and use whatever you have on hand to enhance whatever you’re trying to portray.

for this one, i ended up finding this amazing photo on unsplash and i thought it would do a create job of portraying the “movie-set” quality of what wildest dreams is going to be about. this stock photo had someone else’s names on it, so i used my ipad, and used instagram to just erase the existing writing with the color of the background, and then wrote in my own title and url with my own handwriting/apple pen!!!

i thought this was pretty cool because it’s like wildest dreams is its own movie/has its own movie set, which, once it’s out, you guys will see that it’s supposed to be!

saving/uploading

this is pretty easy/obvious, but i figured i’d mention it. all the apps i mentioned are available on the appstore, and they will save directly to your photos. after doing that, i’ll just upload them into a special folder i have on my google drive so that when i’m finished writing a fic on tumblr using my laptop, i can easily download the photos without sacrificing quality. easy!

and that way, i can save them forever; even if i have to delete them from my computer, i can always redownload them!

side note: making text separators

i just recently started doing this, but ever since tumblr took down their text separators, i’ve just been cropping the bottom like 5-10 pixels of the header to use as my text separators! (with my laptop)

i saw some other writer doing it and thought that it looked better than what i had used previously (a cropped photo of a random line i found on google); i found that doing this tied my fics together a little better and just looked better aesthetically;

so there it is! hope you enjoyed! :) i would love to see what other tips you guys have been using, feel free to send me an ask or reply to this post; and if you end up using any of my tips, please let me know! I love to hear from you guys all the time <3

lots of love, especially during these times,

hay <3

#writing tips #story talk

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Fool for You (Crygi) - Frankenvenus

After realising she has fallen for her straight best friend, Crystal’s therapist recommends she write her crush love letters. So instead of communicating her feelings, she scribbles then down and slips them into Gigi Goode’s locker.

A/N~ I hope you like this cause it took forever. I finished it super late at night and I did read through it twice but I apologise for any errors.

Crystal stormed her way into her therapist’s office, throwing herself onto the pink sofa that she sat and rambled on for an hour and a half every week. Her therapist looked at her bemused as the blue-haired girl uttered the words, “I’m in love with my best friend.”

Her therapist, Widow, huffed out a sigh, placing her clipboard down on the coffee table in front and pushing her glasses slightly down her nose, “Well. That’s a common issue for young queer folks like yourself.”

Crystal groaned and rolled over, displaying her puffy eyes and messed up bangs, “But I thought I was immune to it.”

Widow chuckled slightly and leaned towards where Crystal lay, brushing her hair from where it stuck itself in her lip gloss, “Do you need to rant to me about it? You know that’s why I’m here, sweetie; to listen.”

The young girl groaned again before sitting up, straightening her back and recounting the events of her day.

It had started off a normal Thursday. On Thursdays, she would usually peddle to her best friend Gigi’s house before school began so they could scribble down fake absence notes for phys ed, then Gigi would hop on the back of Crystal’s bike and they’d cycle the last half mile to their high school. It was routine for them. Never weird, never crossing any lines. It had always been the two of them, best friends, since middle school. So when things shifted, it took Crystal by surprise.

“I wanna do something different today instead of just sitting in the library until Phys Ed ends. I’m sick of the librarian shutting us up. We literally aren’t even loud,” - Gigi had said, fixing her dirty blonde ponytail in the school bathroom mirror after the bike ride messed it up.

Crystal had agreed with her, before asking her if she wanted to try something new. Although Gigi was her best friend, she hung out with the stoners whilst Gigi hung out with the high-fashion Instagram girls. The dirty blonde had never tried weed, and Crystal never offered - but today she did, and Gigi was eager.

The two of them snuck to the abandoned bike shed at the back of the school, covered in ivy with smashed windows. It was a spot that only Crystal and her friends Daya, Daegen, Lux and Tiff knew, so Gigi was curious to see it.

“This is so cool,” Gigi had gaped, finding a spot in the corner while her friend rolled her a joint. Crystal had to assure her multiple times that they wouldn’t get caught, but Gigi didn’t shut up until the sizzling rice paper was placed in her mouth. The older girl talked her through how to inhale it properly, and soon enough Gigi was coughing the smoke into the air.

“Can you feel it in your chest?” Crystal had asked, and when Gigi nodded, she said, “Good. That’s how you know it worked.”

They sat there, minds foggy, trying to hold conversation despite their thought process and immediate short term memory being cut off every few seconds. At some point, their pinkies intertwined, followed by the rest of their fingers. And then, Gigi was nestling her forehead into the crook of Crystal’s neck. That’s when it all tumbled down on the latter.

The contrasting feeling of the coldness from Gigi’s skin against her own warm, buzzing skin sent jolts of emotion through her, and the gentle brush of Gigi’s wavy locks against her jaw caused her heart to squeeze itself in a way that was unfamiliar to her. It didn’t seem too serious to Crystal whilst she was still in her high, but when the effects of the weed began to fade by fifth period, the sudden feeling of need for her best friend’s touch remained in place.

Her mind kept travelling elsewhere during fifth and sixth period, which happened to be double Spanish. Jaida had to pinch her multiple times, bringing her back down to Earth. Jaida didn’t question Crystal’s behaviour too much though, because the latter wasn’t usually focused in Spanish class anyway, and that’s why she was failing.

Gigi had debate team practice after school on Thursdays, so instead of going home together the same way they would travel to school, Crystal biked alone. She had her earplugs in, blasting Clairo like usual and wondering what the hell it was that she felt today. It wasn’t until ‘Sofia’ by Clairo came on did everything click in her mind. Something about the lyrics ‘Standing here alone now, think that we can drive around, I just wanna say how I love you with your hair down’ made her realise that oh, she wanted to be able to call Gigi her own, and not just platonically. Then she almost crashed her bike.

She swerved into a fire hydrant, gratified that her bike sported thick mountain bike wheels to soften the hit. Luckily, she didn’t fall off - she just got a fright. She decided to walk her bike the rest of the way home, which thankfully wasn’t far.

When she reached home, she spread herself across her bed and allowed herself to make connections that she should’ve made before. Why else could she never take her eyes off Gigi’s plump lips? Why else did people at school assume they were a couple because they were so touchy all the time? Why else did she feel such tremendous jealousy whenever Gigi showed even the tiniest bit of romantic fondness towards someone that wasn’t her.

Her mom knocked on her door, reminding her that she had her therapy appointment in an hour, and that led back to the present.

“That seems like quite the epiphany,” Widow smiled warmly, passing Crystal a tissue box when tears began to spill over, “Normally falling for a long-term best friend is something that you realise over time, but not for you apparently.”

“I think maybe I’m just an oblivious fuck,” Crystal sniffled. “But even if I realised it today, years ago, or tens of years from now, she still wouldn’t like me back.”

“Well, I’m not your friend’s therapist, but we can’t be so quick to assume.”

“Once you see the girl, you’ll know. She’s a hardcore ten. I’m a five, at best.”

“Crystal, remember what we went over…” Widow began, and the blue-haired girl finished the sentence.

“…Instead of self-deprecation, tell yourself you’re the best person ever, no matter whether you believe it or not - yeah, I get it,” Crystal rolled her eyes, “It’s just hard when you know it’s not true.”

“Well, I have a little tip I give my clients when they’re in a similar situation to you. The whole unrequited love thing,” the older woman got up from her seat and walked towards a cabinet, pulling out a packet of fresh, plain envelopes, “I usually tell them to write their crush love notes. It’s up to them whether they send them or not, or whether it’s anonymous or not, but they can be very therapeutic when needing to express bottled up emotion. Do you see where I’m coming from?”

Crystal raised a brow and tilted her head to the side slightly, the hint of a smile on her lips. She actually didn’t mind the idea.

“That’s actually super cute,” she giggled, taking the stack of envelopes from her therapist, “Thank you.”

As soon as Crystal got home, she sprinted to her room and grabbed an old notebook from the back of her stationery drawer. It was a plain A5 paper notebook, but spread across each page was a ginormous red opaque One Direction logo. Crystal had got it for Christmas about a decade ago, but it had only been used a handful of times for random sketches and one draft of a Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles fanfiction.

She grabbed an ink fine-liner from her art pot which she would normally use for her pointillism artwork and began the first letter.

You don’t know who I am. Well, you do but like, not who is writing this. I hope you aren’t scared or anything - cause that’s the last thing I wanna do. I promise I’m not a freak. Well, I sorta look like one but, I know you aren’t one to be bothered by that kind of thing. It’s beautiful, you know. The way people look at you and assume you’ll hate them for who they are cause you’re so pretty and popular, but then you’re just as wonderful on the outside as you are within. That look on your face when you meet a new person drives me nuts. The way you look like you’ve swallowed the sun. Radiant. Always.

Sometimes I wish I could just tell you how I feel about you to your face, but I think you might faint out of disgust. You do that a lot. I sound like a stalker, but I promise I’m not. I think I’m just smitten.

She finished the letter, reading it over to make sure her handwriting looked unrecognisable. Although Gigi wasn’t the most observant person, she and Crystal were so familiar with each other that she was bound to notice her unique handwriting. She also made sure to spray it with an old perfume that she never wore, so Gigi wouldn’t connect their scents. Gigi always made comments about how she loved Crystal’s perfume, so the blue-haired girl had to take precautions. Her strong scent of cocoa and vanilla was bound to rub off on the paper, so she sprayed it with a men’s cologne that she had likely shoplifted years prior, spraying it onto the paper from a distance.

Although Widow had given her the option not to post the letters, Crystal felt like the weight of her crush wouldn’t be eased unless she actually posted it. So, she placed it into the envelope and slipped it into Gigi’s locker the next day at school when the blonde wasn’t around, her heart pounding in her ears with anticipation and verve.

She sat through her first class of the day, social studies with Daya, desperately trying to take her mind off the painful wait. Daya ranted to her about dinosaurs and how everyone’s perception of how they looked was wrong, but Crystal hardly paid attention. She would nod every so often, just so Daya wasn’t insulted, but she wasn’t really in the conversation.

After social studies, she shared a free period with Gigi. She made her way to their meeting spot in the library after the bell dismissed them from their first period, and sooner than she would’ve liked, Gigi was marching across the library towards her with the smuggest grin on her face.

“Oh my God Crystal Elizabeth you will never guess what I just found in my locker,” she squealed as quietly as possible, sliding into the seat opposite Crystal’s.

“What?” Crystal raised a brow, her mouth full of skittles. Now here was the hardest part - pretending to be shocked.

Gigi reached into her blazer pocket and pushed the familiar envelope towards the older girl, who plastered a confused look on her face. The dirty blonde gestured for her to open it, so she complied. She pulled out the letter that was already likely covered in her own fingerprints and unfolded it with a faux-expression of excitement.

“What the fuck is this?” she chuckled, trying to suppress the shake in her fingers as she held the letter.

“A letter. From a secret admirer,” Gigi beamed, placing her beautiful shaped chin into her palm and flashing her angelic white teeth. Wow, Crystal was more whipped than she thought.

“This is so dumb,” she lied blatantly, and to her surprise, Gigi frowned.

“You think so? I think it’s so sweet. And shit… whoever wrote it has a way with words,” she exhaled, tugging her plump, peachy lower lip between her teeth.

Crystal’s breathing hitched and she felt her skin redden. She assumed Gigi would find it painfully corny, but it seemed like she felt the opposite. The blonde promptly took the letter back from Crystal’s grasp, taking a look at it once more. The older girl wished she was imagining the blush that began to cover Gigi’s face, but it was definitely there.

“I hope they write again. I wanna play Nancy Drew,” Gigi smiled sheepishly, taking Crystal’s hand suddenly, “Will you help me, you know, try and crack the code?”

“Sure!”

Fuck. Crystal felt like Hannah Montana.

They spent Saturday together, drinking on Crystal’s roof and gossiping about their own respective friend groups, however, the conversation kept moving back towards the letter. Gigi was conflicted on whether or not she knew the person, but her repetitive use of he and him pronouns when she referred to the secret admirer caused Crystal’s blood to simmer.

When Gigi left the next morning after spending the night on Crystal’s couch, the blue-haired girl was quick to begin her second letter.

I hope these letters haven’t made you uncomfortable in any way. The look on your face when you read it tells me they haven’t though. What I want to tell you though, is that I’m not what you think. I hate to disappoint you, but I’m not a boy. I’m a girl. I don’t know if you like girls. If not; I’m sorry, but if you do; so do I. I like you a lot. All I want is to make you smile.

She spent Sunday at the skatepark, smoking with Daya, Daegen, Lux and Tiff, before slipping the note into Gigi’s locker first thing on Monday morning. The two of them, as well as Gigi’s friends Nicky and Jaida, all shared music class first period of Mondays. Whilst Crystal was pulling her viola out of its case, Gigi suddenly began dangling the envelope in front of her nose.

“Another one!” Gigi grinned, her voice cracking with adorable excitement. She took a seat beside Crystal and opened it. “I haven’t read it yet.”

Crystal watched her friend’s face with anticipation whilst she read the letter aloud, quiet enough that surrounding people wouldn’t hear. Gigi’s eyes widened as she read it over, and her grin faltered into an unreadable expression.

“What does it say?” Crystal questioned nervously.

“The person who wrote it isn’t a guy,” Gigi sighed, scratching the top of her head, “It’s a girl.”

The tanned girl pursed her lips, not knowing what to say next.

“Wow, uh. So… what do you think about that then?” she queried stupidly.

“About what?”

“You know… a girl liking you…”

The blonde crossed her legs and looked away from Crystal, “A pair of tits isn’t gonna stop me from loving this girls way of words. The anonymity is sexy. I should’ve known a man wouldn’t have the mental capacity to do something so romantic.”

This could not be real. Crystal felt like she was lucid dreaming.

“So you like… girls?” she pressed.

Gigi turned to her with a glint in her eye, “No gender or sex will stop me from wanting to kiss someone pretty.”

Oh.

“What? Are you homophobic or something?” Gigi added, and Crystal simply laughed.

”As if! Have you seen me? I think I should get ‘flaming lesbo’ tattooed on my cheek. I just didn’t know about you…” Crystal rushed out before she could even think about it. Never did she think she would come out in that way. In her mind, for most of her life, she had anticipated coming out in a very deep, emotional way - likely crying on Gigi’s bed. This was nothing of the sort.

“You’re a lesbian? Wow. I should’ve known,” the blonde simpered, and Crystal shoved her shoulder playfully.

When my therapist recommended I write these, I thought it would help me get over you, but fuck I think I’m falling harder for you. That floral outfit you wore yesterday was so cute. When you walked into class, it lit the whole room up. You truly are God’s favourite, huh? Just kidding I don’t believe in God, but whoever sculpted you took their time.

“Crystal look at this one! This is the most poetic piece of artwork I have ever read,” Gigi gaped, rushing towards Crystal after the latter had waited outside her human biology class for her.

The older girl took the letter and read through it, biting hard on her lower lip whilst Gigi watched with a smile, “It’s cute,” she said.

“It isn’t just cute! It’s… beguiling!”

“Do you even know what that means?”

The blonde groaned as they began to walk through the hallways together.

“I think you’re jealous because no one is writing you captivatingly beautiful love letters.”

Crystal shrugged and continued walking, eventually bumping into Daegen and going for a much-needed smoke. The blue-haired girl didn’t want to come off as cold to her best friend, but she feared that if she said too much, Gigi would make the connection. She smoked in silence, allowing Daegen to rant about her weekly argument with Daya that would likely be resolved by Friday. Occasionally she would nod, but she kept quiet.

It was surprising to Crystal that Gigi appreciated the letters so much. She thought the blonde would find them creepy and stalker-like, and perhaps fear for her own safety, but the opposite reaction was apparent. So now Crystal didn’t know what to do. Gigi was falling for her words, but she didn’t know it was her.

Apparently Daegen had been saying something because suddenly the girl was snapping her pink acrylic covered fingers in front of her eyes.

“Are you listening to me, Crys? I asked what you were planning on doing for Halloween this Friday?”

Oh. Crystal had almost forgotten that she had been working on her Corpse-bride inspired Halloween costume since July, putting her entire soul into the concept and causing her fingers to bleed with the many late nights of sewing layers of tulle. Everything with Gigi must have been really getting in her head - so much so that she forgot about the object of her whole summer.

She was too old for trick or treating now, unfortunately, but she had been planning to have a small get-together (edging on a party) with her remote friend group as well as others. Gigi had promised to attend, after spending the last two Halloweens with the popular kids getting shitfaced at college parties.

“Don’t you remember? I’m throwing a party. My dad is out of town for work and my mom is spending time with our grandma. The house will be empty,” Crystal grinned, puffing a cloud of smoke into the air.

“Crystal Lucia Elizabeth throwing a party? Who would’ve thought,” Daegen smirked, “Is Geege coming?”

“Yup,” Crystal said, her smile faltering slightly as she popped the ‘p.’ Daegen didn’t press on, so soon they were both putting their cigarettes out and heading to their next class.

Word of Crystal’s Halloween party spread like a virus, and the prominent conversation around the school was what everyone was wearing. Thankfully for Crystal, most of her friends were art kids, so instead of wearing a slutty (insert random occupation) costume, they’d all be wearing actual thought-out looks.

At lunchtime, Crystal and Gigi sat under the bleachers together, sipping Yakults and talking about their days. The blue-haired girl asked Gigi what she’d be wearing to her Halloween party, but the blonde wouldn’t tell her.

“It’s a surprise.” her eyes were glinting smugly. Gigi was a seamstress, and everyone knew it. She would create intricately designed, beautiful outfits and sell them to big names on Instagram. Crystal often wondered why she hadn’t just dropped out of school, considering it seemed like she had a strong career set in stone.

But oh boy, Crystal knew whatever it was that Gigi was planning to wear would sweep her off her feet. Figuratively and literally - she was quite clumsy.

I can’t wait to see you at the Halloween party tomorrow. I know you’re going to look ethereal. You always do. It’s so hard to look at you without kissing you. I don’t know why I would ever think you would kiss me considering I’m not even half as pretty as you, but I will continue to manifest it as long as you’re in my life. I think I love you.

“She said she loved me in yesterday’s letter,” Gigi shouted through the wind, holding onto Crystal’s waist tight as the latter peddled through the neighbourhood.

“Do you love her?” Crystal replied, thankful that her friend was unable to see her expression at that moment. She couldn’t think straight with Gigi holding her in that way.

“I mean. I guess I have to talk to her face to face. For all I know she can’t speak for shit in real life. She said she’s going to your party tonight. Maybe all will be revealed…”

Crystal breathily laughed out a response as she turned into the school gate. She knew she wasn’t ready to come clean yet. Gigi would simply have to wait another day.

The day passed in a blur. The girls skipped Phys Ed as per usual, but instead returned to the library again for extra revision instead of going back to the bike sheds to get high like last time.

Friday night took a painfully long time to come, but when it did, Crystal could hardly breathe the entire day. She managed to flirt her way out of sixth-period history so she was able to speedily bike her way home to make a start on her eccentric Halloween makeup. People were set to begin arriving at 9 pm, and there wasn’t much preparation to be done aside from throwing a couple of fake cobwebs around the place and placing stacks of red solo cups on the kitchen counter. Her makeup would take at least an hour and a half, so as soon as she got home she took a five-minute shower before beginning the look.

She painted her entire body a silvery grey before carving out strong cheekbones with black paint, giving her an undead appearance. She shaped her brows in a way that would make her look constantly mournful. She slipped her dress on, threw on four different silver necklaces, pulled her voluminous black wig over her head, and clipped the vail to it carefully. After admiring her masterpiece through her phone camera for a few minutes, the doorbell rang. It was Lux and Tiff, who had texted to say they were arriving early.

“Oh my God,” Crystal squealed as she opened the door, revealing the two girls. Both of them were dressed in beige prison outfits, and it quickly clicked to her that they were supposed to be Alex and Piper from Orange Is the New Black. “Lesbians, I assume,” she grinned, but the two girls in front of her were too busy gaping at her own outfit.

“Wow. You are Tim Burton’s wet dream,” Tiff said, pushing past Crystal and entering her home.

“No, I’m not. I’m not white, remember,” Crystal joked.

Lux had brought her large overpriced speaker to blast music. She heaved it into the living room and plugged it in, immediately starting to blast Stupid Love cause she was that girl.

Luckily for Crystal, her neighbourhood adored her. Her street was predominantly old women, but instead of constantly yelling at Crystal for dressing slutty, partying and smoking weed on her roof, they would simply envy her recklessness.

After an hour of pre-shots, people began to arrive. Most people brought their own alcohol, but it was clear that many of them were already drunk before they even arrived. Crystal remained in the foyer, leaning against the wall, singing along to Lux’s music and answering the doorbell whenever it rang. Every time the ringing echoed across the house, she’d subconsciously pray Gigi was on the other side, but for the first two hours, it never was.

Nicky, Jaida and Gigi all arrived at once, and Crystal felt herself get cotton mouth for a second when she looked over them all. Nicky was dressed in a basic white gown with her blonde hair down, however, she was absolutely drenched in fake blood and she wore a small prom queen tiara and sash. It was obviously a Carrie cosplay, and Crystal adored it. Jaida had her entire body painted green and wore a black catsuit over it, cosplaying as Gamora from Guardians of the Galaxy.

Crystal complimented their costumes first, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Gigi. Her Halloween costume wasn’t as bold as they had been in the previous years, but there was something about it that took Crystal’s breath away. The blonde had her hair down and curled in smooth waves and she was wearing a loose white dress with a victorian-Esque corset pulling her waist in impossibly tight. She had dripped wax below her eyes, giving a crying illusion, and her makeup was a shimmery purple, making her look angelic. Yes - that was her costume - an angel. Strapped across her back was the largest pair of faux feather angel wings Crystal had ever seen. They were reminiscent of the ones a Victoria’s Secret models would wear, and they shimmered under the moonlight.

“Holy fuck…” Crystal blurted, before squeaking slightly.

“I know right? They’re so fucking heavy,” Gigi giggled before hopping in and air-kissing Crystal on each cheek, “You look so good, girl.”

“Thanks,” Crystal smiled, deciding that she would no longer be taking doorbell duty. She wanted to enjoy herself, so she walked through to the kitchen where Daya was doing body shots with some guy she had never seen before and promptly decided to join her.

Every so often, she would catch Gigi dancing and knocking things over with her wings. She didn’t mind if Gigi ended up shattering a vase. She would glue up every fragment of china for her.

After her second shot, Crystal made her way to the living room with Daegen to observe people’s dancing, and that’s when she saw them.

There was this guy from Gigi’s geography class that she never shut up about. His name was Toby, and he was one of those ‘hipster boys.’ He was a self-proclaimed feminist but probably cried about rejections from women on the internet. Every time Crystal saw his lanky frame enter a room, she felt sick and fantasized about decking him. There was something about him that was just so irritating to her, and every time he stuck his tongue out at her friend or wiggled his eyebrows like a fucking loser, Crystal wanted to cave in on herself.

And there he was, in her home, dancing with her best friend to ‘If You’re Too Shy’ by The 1975, grinding against her cause her angel wings were too large for the roles to be reversed. Gigi was biting her lip and grinning wide - evidently drunk - and she flipped her hair and bounced to the upbeat synth. Nicky was cheering her on from the couch, and Crystal wished she could just shut the party down. So much for Gigi falling in love with her words? Now she was grinding over some flimsy incel that looked like he would have to be pegged by a woman in bed.

It only got worse from there. The blonde caught Crystal’s eye and she walked up to her slowly, her hand still intertwined with Toby’s. Her words were so slurred that the older girl almost didn’t catch them, but she heard Gigi say: “Hey Toby was wondering if your bedroom was free? All the other ones are occupied but I’m desperateeee.”

Crystal had to hold back the mouthful of vomit threatening to spill from her lips. Gigi was so incredibly drunk, and it seemed like Toby was sober, so the entire endeavour didn’t sit right with her at all. She mentally cursed herself for being so generous, because before she could even register what she was doing, she was pulling a small key out of her bra and Gigi and Toby were rushing their way upstairs.

“Fuck, Crys. Have some respect for yourself,” she mumbled when she was out of earshot from her friend. Decidedly, she made her way to the garden where she knew Daegen was smoking with Tiff. She had to ease her mind.

“Fuck, Goode, you’re so hot,” Toby grunted, carelessly pulling Gigi’s wings off her arms. Gigi’s mind was hazy and she couldn’t think or speak properly, so she wasn’t able to tell the boy that the wings were handmade and extremely fragile.

“Thanks,” she slurred as he began to undress her, “Wait.”

“What?”

“Let me try and find a condom.”

She hopped off Crystal’s bed and somehow managed to find her way to her friend’s chest of drawers. She found panties and tampons among many other things, but she couldn’t find a condom. She reached the final drawer and frantically poked around for one. Then she grabbed something, and suddenly she sobered up.

It was a red A5 notepad with a black swirly binder. On the red cover, Gigi spotted five faces; Zayn, Niall, Liam, Harry and Louis. She chuckled slightly, before opening the notebook. Her heart dropped. If the familiar 1D watermark print paper wasn’t enough to make the connection, the titular scribble saying ‘Love letter for Geege draft’ at the top sealed it.

“Are you okay, Gigi?” she heard Toby ask from the bed.

The blonde paused and furrowed her brow, not sure what to do next. “Um. I can’t do this. Sorry.”

“But it was gonna be so good… You look so fine…” “Not tonight, Toby. Sorry.”

Her tone was serious, and Toby knew not to cross her. The boy watched as she pulled her dress and wings back on, and squinted his eyes when she saw a small red notebook in her hands.

“What’s that?” he pressed.

“Get out. Crystal wouldn’t want you in her room.”

After muttering a few disgusting insults under his breath, he left the room, leaving Gigi alone on her best friend’s bed with an overwhelming amount of thoughts.

Downstairs, Crystal had a growing concern as to where Gigi was, because she swore she saw Toby leave with another girl on his arm. Instead of being petty, she decided to be a good friend and creep up the stairs. To her surprise, her bedroom door was wide open. Upon entering, she realised it was empty. And then she saw the small A5 One Direction notebook wide open on her bed, and knew it was time to shut the party down.

It didn’t take more than fifteen minutes to get everyone out, but she was still met with groans of annoyance due to it only being little after midnight. Daya stayed back to help Crystal clean up, but the blonde knew something was wrong.

“Crys? What happened?” she asked, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder. Her other hand was occupied with a large bin bag filled with chip packets, put-out cigarettes and paper cups.

The small motion of comfort caused Crystal to break down, tears tumbling down her cheeks and creating streaks in her white face paint. Patches of caramel skin showed through as she cried more and more.

“No one… touched you… did they?” Daya questioned, dropping the trash bag and wrapping her arms around her friend’s waist.

“No,” Crystal sobbed, “I don’t really wanna talk about it. I’m fine. I just have to figure out a couple of things.”

“Do you need me to stay over?”

“No. It’s fine. I need some alone time.” The house was back to its usual state after twenty minutes, then D aya’s Lyft arrived and she left. Crystal found herself in front of her vanity, scrubbing at her face with cotton pads in an attempt to remove her many layers of makeup. She turned on her ‘Sad Girl Hours’ Spotify playlist whilst she cleaned herself up and continued playing it when she slid into the bath.

Gigi knew.

She couldn’t even think about why Gigi was snooping about in her drawers, she just knew that Gigi knew. Gigi finally made the connection. Crystal’s mask of hiding behind her romantic words was gone. There was no coming back from this. Part of her wanted to slide her body down the white acrylic bathtub surface, submerging herself in the water and remaining there until her lungs couldn’t function without another breath.

Instead, she simply sat there, neck and below beneath the steaming water, eyes shut. Her mind swarmed with escape plans. Would transferring to another school be worth it? Her current school was the best in the district. Should she give it up merely to run away from her problems? Should she face the issue head-on and talk about it with Gigi? Yes. Will she? Absolutely not.

She clambered out when the steam from the water began to make her dizzy. She straightened her blue hair every morning, but it had returned to its curly, frizzy state when it became dampened by the water. She rang it out into the sink using a hand towel, droplets of water falling from her naked frame. Everything was calm. The only thing that could be heard was the occasional sniffle - for Crystal was still crying sightly.

But, like all things, the peace came to an end when Crystal heard a clattering noise come from her bedroom. She yanked a towel from behind the bathroom door before hesitantly making her way back to her room, gasping when she saw someone climbing through her window. Instinctively, she grabbed a tennis racket that was hanging in the corner of her room.

“Jesus Christ - put that down!” the intruder gasped, and Crystal realised that it wasn’t an escaped prisoner coming to steal her and hold her captive in their trunk - it was Gigi.

Part of Crystal wanted to hit Gigi across the head with the racket painstakingly hard so the blonde’s memory would be wiped, forgetting the humiliating events of the day, but instead, Crystal just placed the racket down and covered herself tensely. She was still in her towel, and her hair was still dripping down her shoulders. She likely looked a mess, but it was too dark to notice.

“It’s almost 3 am…” Crystal whispered. Although she didn’t ask anything, it was clear her statement meant ‘why are you here?’

Gigi’s eyes trailed over to the blue-haired girl’s bed where the notebook still sat. Crystal had been afraid to touch it.

“Listen, if you’re going to ridicule me, do it on Monday, cause I’m too tired for this-” the older girl began, but Gigi stepped closer towards her.

The blonde had removed her costume and had her face now bare of any makeup. She was just stood there in black sports leggings and a pink sweater that was three sizes too large, swallowing up her slender frame. Her hair was damp and now in plaits, and her eyes were as puffy and tear-stained as Crystal’s, yet somehow still so beautiful.

“I’m not going to ridicule you, Crys,” she whispered, “I just wanna know… Was it you all along?”

Crystal didn’t wanna say it. Her body had never burned so bad, despite being bare and dripping with water. It was impossible to look Gigi in the eye, so instead, she looked at the gathering dust on the floor, gulping instead of responding.

“Answer me, Crys.” - she was getting closer.

“I don’t know if I can- if I can say it-” Crystal stumbled, her voice cracking under pressure.

Gigi stepped into Crystal’s bubble suddenly, reaching for the latter’s shaky hand. She took it in her own and pressed a soft kiss to it. “Don’t be scared to talk to me. We are best friends, remember. We vowed to always be transparent with one another - so I need you to tell me.”

After too long, Crystal finally met Gigi’s sparkling blue gaze. She swallowed back yet another lump in her throat before nodding. “It was me. I wrote them. All of them.”

The older girl swore she heard Gigi’s breathing hitch, but if the blonde was shocked in any way, she didn’t show any sign of it.

“I wanted to believe it was you, but when you seemed so disinterested in the letters, I began to question it. I never knew that you could write in such a way, Crys,” Gigi smiled sadly, reaching over to catch a tear spilling from Crystal’s eye with her thumb. The touch seemed to burn, sending electrifying sensations through both of them. “Did you truly mean everything you wrote in those letters or was it all a big joke to make me feel special?”

Crystal gasped slightly and furrowed her brow.

“Gigi Goode… You are special. When we got high during Phys Ed and you were all touchy I- I realised that I liked you. Even though it hasn’t been long since I realised it, I know my attraction to you has been there from the start. It started to become impossible to be around you without telling you how I felt, so I wrote it down in letters and hoped I could send the feeling away.”

Crystal was crying now - hard. She was a crier, and everyone knew it, but there was something about the quiet whimpers escaping her lips at that moment that took Gigi off guard.

“I wish you would’ve told me but, I can’t blame you. It’s terrifying,” Gigi sighed, stepping even closer. “I can’t even begin to explain how those letters made me feel, Crys. They made me feel like I hold some significance in somebody’s life. That someone might want me. That I am good enough for someone. You made me feel all that.”

In a bold move, Crystal was reaching towards her friend and tucking an escaped wisp of blonde hair behind her ear, “I can’t imagine a world where you aren’t good enough, Geege.”

“Your letters made me feel so loved,” Gigi sniffled. “Do you love me, Crystal?”

Crystal parted her lips, her hand still lingering by the side of Gigi’s face. It was a make or break moment.

“Yes,” she breathed, and then Gigi was leaning in.

The blonde paused before their lips could meet, looking for a sign of approval in her friend’s eyes. Crystal nodded, and that gave Gigi what she needed to finally press her lips against the former’s frown. They instantly became so content like that, lips moving together so perfectly like they just fit.

It was so gentle, to begin with, Crystal’s hand barely touching the side of Gigi’s face - but then the blonde’s fingers grabbed the top of Crystal’s arm, pulling her closer and prying her mouth open with her tongue. Their lips shifted clumsily against each other, but it still felt so right. Crystal tasted like teardrops and pineapple juice, and Gigi tasted like mint.

As the kiss became more and more heated, Crystal figured out what to do with her free hand. She took Gigi’s hand and led her towards the knot that held her towel together, staring at the blonde with dark, lustful eyes.

“I want you,” Crystal said, like it was a promise, “I need you.”

“I’m yours,” Gigi replied, pulling the knot loose and watching as the towel dropped by Crystal’s feet, showing off tanned curves glistening in water drops, begging to be marked.

They pulled one another in once again in a knee-weakening kiss, their noses colliding with each other as the passion fogged their minds. Soon, they were falling onto Crystal’s bed, and Crystal was watching whilst Gigi undressed herself in front of her.

“Promise me we’ll do this, and then we will talk everything out?” Crystal asked whilst Gigi was pulling her leggings off.

The blonde pressed a gentle kiss against Crystal’s cheek before whispering, “Of course. I love you.”

While Crystal watched Gigi hook a naked leg over her own, all she could think was: Widow VonDu needs a pay rise.

#rpdr fanfiction #crygi #crystal methyd #gigi goode #lesbian au #high school au #friends to lovers #frankenvenus #concrit welcome #s12

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toongal1998 · 4 years ago

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This drawing took forever to complete, but I am pretty satisfied with how it turned out. The first version is one without shading and second is it the one with shading added. (The quality is better if you click on it.) I came up with the idea after rewatching the old Justice Ducks’s episode, as well as being imspired by DT17’s “Let’s get Dangerous!” special and listening to the classic Og teen Titans theme on repeat also sparked a lot of imagination. The only outfits I didn’t come up with are Lena’s, Boyd’s and Louie’s which already exist the show. I thought about each kids’s strengths and personalities when designing the other costumes as well what kind of powers/roles they would play and what kinda relationship they would have with their super mentors for this au.

• First up we have everyone’s favorite sassy magical teen, Lena. Her magical girl type outfit is what used for her hero costume. I tried my best to get the colors right so I hope it looks good. Lena’s role on the team is The Magical Brawler, with her using magical energy blasts, as well as allusions and brute force to defeat her opponents. She also doesn’t have a hero name like the others and just goes by Lena. (This is mostly because her magic protects her secret identity or something.) She and Quiverwing are the snarkiest towards the villains, especially if their evil plans are really stupid.

• She acts as a cool older sister figure to other kids on the team and is one of the most proactive on the team, with her answer to fighting a villain usually being “let’s beat them up” which can sometimes land her into trouble if she’s not careful. She’s very protective of Webby and Her younger (adopted) sister, Violet. So word to the wise evil doers, do not under any circumstances attack/harm either girl or you will be in a world of agonizing magical pain.

• Being oldest on the team as well as one of the most pessimistic/emotionally guarded at times, she tends to be a little more jaded to the whole hero worship thing the other kids have going towards The Justice Ducks. Her mentor/teacher is technically Morgana Macawber. In the beginning she was very distrustful towards the older magic user due to the woman’s past actions as a villain, as well as Lena’s own hang up’s with Magica. However, She eventually warms up to the sorceress after she sees how while having questionable morals at times, is still a good person who genuinely cares about her and Vi as not only her students/sidekicks, but her surrogate kids as well. (Morgana definitely joins the ‘these aren’t technically my kids, but I’m adopting them. You can’t stop me club.’)

• After that, their relationship starts to get better, but Lena still has her more rebellious impulses which causes her to be a bit more difficult when interacting with her mentor. She will argue with her about things like “Seriously! Why should it matter if my magic is still ‘developing’?! I can totally handle my Own magic, thank you very much! Now let’s stop gabbing and take down this creep before he overruns the whole city!” (Stuff like that.)

• Let’s move on to Webby or as she’s better known in the crime fighting world, Gummi Gal! So, it was a little difficult to figure out what kinda hero she would be, but after i decided to go with combining her spy training with her gummi juice powers, from “From the confidential files from agent 22” everything else just clicked. (Please note that I’m vaguely familiar with original gummi bears, I’m going off of ducktales 17 interpretation of it so if I get anything wrong, that’s why.)

• First let’s talk about the costume. I wanted to give her something that showed her personality as both a trained combat and espionage expert, as well as a excitable sweet munchkin who loves glitter and friendship bracelets. I based the colors off her regular pallet and added the cherry red parts to allude back to the gummi berry juice. The costume is made from super rubbery stretchy protective material either invented by S.H.U.S.H, prier or Team science to keep our super adorable rubber ball of death safe from villains when her gummi powers wear off, while also giving her a boost in battle while trying to beat up said baddies. Her red bow is the same material as the outfit, I gave her a pink mask, cause that’s her favorite color (also I wanted her to have a different mask color from Gosalyn and Huey.) and her utility belt is filled with other gadgets as well extra vials of juice in cases of emergencies. Not to mentioned she finally got her own Action Cane and still has her trusty grappling hook if things get too crazy.

• Webby’s role in the team is definitely combative close ranged fighter and The Heart of The Team. She’s already a beast in hand to hand combat, but when she drinks her gummi berry juice, she becomes a unstoppable springy force of power and agility, that can really give the villains a headache. She’s the most encouraging and affectionate on team always giving her fellow teammates hugs or high fives whenever she can. Her biggest weakness has to be her willingness to trust people at their word, being a little naive to harsh truths of the world cause she wants to see the good in others. She’s a badass, but an idealistic at her core and just wants to make the world a more happier place.

• Webby’s hero mentor is the Moon’s greatest warrior, Penumbra. Penny is at first confused by Small Della’s odd abilities, but adapts pretty quickly. They train a lot together and Penny teaches the young earther tricks she picked up from living on the moon where the gravity is very different from earth. This helps Webby get better at controlling where she wants to bounce when using her powers. Penny is pretty protective of all of the small Dellas and will be pretty aggressive towards those who try to harm them.

• Huey was easy I just made him updated version of his Gizmoduck costume with more of an emphasis of protection and practicality. I decided to give him a mask underneath his visor, because I believe he would definitely wear it as an extra precaution so villains don’t figure out his secret identity. (Even though it’s pretty obvious who these kids are, if you’re any paying attention.) I added a magnetic electro pulse glove blaster (sorry if the science doesn’t make much sense.) as well as magnetic boots, so he can better stay on Boyd’s back in battle and flight. (I was mostly inspired by Hiro from big hero 6 for that.)

• He uses the blaster to send magnetic frequency waves at his enemies. He can also grab things from a distance as a nod to his safety first mindset. His role on the team is occasionally the leader (there’s a bit of conflict with that issue.) and most importantly the thing he prides himself on, The Strategist. He’s great at analyzing situations and coming up with strategies, but can still over think things to his detriment. He clashes the most with Louie on the team as he feels his brother isn’t taking his role very seriously and Gosalyn as she not the best team player. He still looks up to Gizmoduck as his mentor, which drives him to prove himself as a competent leader and crime fighter in his hero’s eyes. Finally his hero name I think would either be Pulse or Gizmokid. Mostly I’m leaning on Pulse, cause I think it distinguishes him from Giz and let’s him make a name for himself as a hero in his own right, not just stuck in someone else’s shadow. (Though the bad guys will probably just call him, Gizmobrat to spite him.)

• (With Boyd I had trouble with getting his coloring just right so if it looks off, that’s why.) Boyd is the technically the youngest on the team in both appearance and mentality. He’s a sweet precious totally real boy that everyone instantly loves...well almost everyone. Louie, is at first a little heistent to be around him, but knows what happened at Doofus’s party wasn’t his fault so doesn’t hold it against him. He’s one of the easiest to trick out of the whole team which makes prime target for scheming villains to mess with. However, don’t underestimate this little powerhouse or you’ll regret it. He’s closest with Huey, with him being the first real friend the little tyke has ever known. (Dr. Gearloose is more of a parental figure then anything.) They can often be seen coming up with plans or just having fun learning stuff together. His hero mentor is Gizmoduck as well, but he also quickly warms up to Gandra. (who may or not be a anti hero in this au.)

• Gosalyn’s/Quiverwing’s costume was little harder to figure out. I kept going back and forth from a modern vs classic look, until I finally settled on a compromise that felt right. I do wish I made the cape more like Darkwing’s and drew a more modern looking bow, but other then that I think it came out pretty good. Her logo I’m especially proud of. Her role on the team is definitely the sharp shooter archer and weapons expert. I like to think she’s kinda like what if Batgirl was a archer. She likes to come up new weapons and gadgets to use on the bad guys. She’s the second oldest after Lena, making her also an older sister figure to the younger kids. Her mentor is Darkwing Duck, she loves being his crime fighting partner, but wishes she get more chances to really show her stuff and not be babied all the time by her guardian. This causes her to be one of the first kids to disobey the adult heroes when they say to stay out of something. Like that will stop her.

• Dewey was the hardest when designing what kinda hero he would be. At first, I thought of giving him a magical legendary sword that could change forms depending on what was needed, sorta as a way to mirror Dewey’s creativity and ever changing interests. However, I also felt he shouldn’t need to be ‘chosen’ by something to be a hero, so now the sword is actually something that he had to have create himself, but it also happens to be a magical shape-shifting weapon?.... (honestly if anyone has any better ideas, please help me, I totally except suggestions.)

• I gave him a costume similar to his God of Dance/Champ Popular personas with a blue Darkwing inspired cape. (Admit it, Dewey you actually love the show!) I added some protective chest armor, also gave him a angel wings and stars motif. His hero name if haven’t already guessed is Daring Dew. His role on the team is kinda the wild card/funny guy as well as a lancer to the more focused sometimes leader, Pulse. If I had to give an example of his role then probably something similar to beast boy from Og teen Titans or The flash from the justice league. He’s usually the first one to try and lighten the mood when something goes wrong, but he has his moments of Insecurites that causes him to doubt himself.

• He’s unique case as he doesn’t really have a official heroic mentor and just kinds bounces around from person to person depending on the day. Not that anyone dislikes the kid, but because he just finds them all so cool that he can’t pick one. (Basically, you know how your favorite avenger changes every week, it’s kinda like that.) He gets along best with Darkwing though and is kinda like his unofficial second sidekick. However, he does love spending time training with The Duck Avenger. He does seem familiar though, he just doesn’t know how. Hymmm. I wonder why.......

• Violet was also a tough one. Do I go with tech based weaponry, superpowers, space themed or magic? Nonetheless, I decided to combine her junior woodchuck survival skills and her magical quick study abilities to make her sorta of Magical Green lantern with an alchemist twist. I wanted to give her own way to do magic without having to use Lena’s powers or Magica’s emulet as a crutch. Her book on her belt is an ancient spell book filled with mystical runes and incantations that she uses to create magical contructs like weapons to battle her opponents. I gave her a teal green cloak, (mostly cause I was inspired by OG raven Teen Titans) a teal mask to hide her identity, light teal gloves and a rune turquoise stone that help channel her own magical abilities when she using her spell book.

• For her hero name I kinda like Light Saber (Disney technically owns Star Wars, so they could use the name.) or Guidelight (kinda like play on her junior woodchuck guide book.)

• Violet is the supernatural expert and living encyclopedia of the team. Something tells me she would do extensive research on all the justice Ducks’s known villains and would keep record of all of the info she gathered on the subjects. I have a headcanon that after “Let’s Get Dangerous” happened in this universe she would watch hours upon of the old darkwing Duck show while taking notes to better understand the full extent of the fearsome four’s backgrounds and abilities. Morgana, like Lena is also her hero mentor. They get along pretty well. She loves learning new spells from older sorceress who is more then happy to help the other with her knowledge on the subject.

• finally last, but never least, Louie! First off I drew him in his simple green hoodie with a dress shirt and tie. (Kid is pretty lazy when it comes to heroic theatrics.) His role on the team is The schemer and self proclaimed, Young Justice Ducks manager. Louie doesn’t really go by any alias and doesn’t wear a mask, cause in his mind there’s not much of point since no one really take them seriously anyways. They’re the kiddie sidekicks club in a lot of people’s eyes, so they don’t get much media attention compared to their mentors.

• If he’s not ‘training’ with his mentor, Storkules, or just hanging out with his teammates, then he’s scamming villains out of their stolen loot or finding new ways to try and get the Young Justice Ducks name out there. He probably takes the whole being a hero thing the least seriously out of everyone on the team, mostly because the adults are always their to save the day and take all the fire, so why not focus on building a solid following and use their obscurity to their advantage against the villains. ( To be honest I really couldn’t figure out what kinda hero he would be. I think maybe later on he could regain his godly gold touch powers, though much more limited this time with them being on a timer of or something. If anyone has any better ideas for him, please send them my way)

Anyways, thanks for reading. Again, if you have any suggestions, questions or ideas please feel free to share them. See ya!

#ducktales 2017 #dt 2017 #dewey duck #webby vanderquack #lena sabrewing #huey duck #louie duck #gosalyn waddlemeyer #quiverwing quack #dt gosalyn #violet sabrewing #boyd dt #The Young Justice Ducks #I finished this instead of sleeping

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thatanimenerd101 · 4 years ago

Text

The Bird I Love

Paring: Keigo Takami (Hawks) x G/N reader

Warning: Lots of fluff and cuteness.

Word count: 1,528 aka 1.5k

Time taken (editing included): 5 hours time posted around 3am EST

This is for a very good friend of mine @keigos-dove they are such a wonderful person and I wish I could give them a hug. There fluff writings have helped me get through some dark times. I always melt because of I can be sad and then after reading some fluff I’m happy and my heart melts. So this is for you Eli, also I’m working on something else, that’ll be just for you. I’ll send it to you privately and you can chose of what you want to do with it. Also I wanted to ask you a few questions, I want to make the writing I am working on very personally for you. I decided to do this writing and the one I’m working on as a thank you. Well a huge thank you. I really want to get to know you better, I think we could become really awesome friends! Now be prepared for your heart to melt, I hope. Now if this isn’t fluffy enough for you, let me know! I will re-write this if needed. My mission is to make your heart melt.

Tag list: @keigos-dove @queensynderella @izuku-mydoria17 @zyrielwolf

@tooloudarts (If you would liked to be added to the tag list just let me know)

Come on, let’s roll already! Okay, jezz, I spent forever writing this Tumblr so stop eating my posts, you already ate two of them and I cried and my ice cream shows it. (I like ice cream okay?) Also yes I know I would take a break well that's over because uhh, I needed to write something.

Now, unfortunately I could not find the artist for this. But this is not mine, all credit goes to the artist.

It was finally Friday, your favorite day of the week it was the day you got payed. It also felt yourself catching a cold. It had been going around at your workplace for a while. It was nothing too bad, just a little cold. Your boyfriend, Hawks, Keigo Takami was out on a mission for the past two weeks. He would text you when he was out of danger. The last conversation you had with him was short.

Hey, doive. How are you?

Sent at 01:09am

I’m alright, I feel like I’m getting sick.

There’s a cold going around my workplace.

Other than that, I really miss you birdie.

Sent at 01:11am

I miss you too. I’ll come home as soon as I can.

I know this is hard for you. It’s hard for

me too.

Sent at 1:25 am

I have to go; I love you so much

Sent 1:27 am

You remember that conversation you had with him three days ago. You were gathering your things and preparing to head home. Normally he would be on missions for weeks or months at a time. Sometimes you would not hear from him until he would come home, covered in cuts and dried up blood. You never asked why, because even if he wanted too tell you, he couldn’t. He told you about his parents and how he was forced into becoming a hero. You remembered that night, he cried a lot and you held him close. You remember running your hands threw his hair once he fell asleep on top of you. He was heavy but at that moment you did not care. Walking down the streets of Japan, you saw couples holding hands. You smiled, but then a feeling of sadness washed over you. You missed him a lot. Keigo wasn’t the center of your world, you had friends and family. But none of them could understand you the way he did, he could sense that something was wrong just by looking at your face. When you reached the pen-house, you entered in the code to get in and let your coat fall to the ground. You tossed your shoes, leaving them by the door. Your plan was to take some medicine for your pounding headache and watch something on TV. That was until you heard soft music coming from the kitchen. Then you looked down the floor, there were rose petals leading their way to the kitchen. You followed them with a smile on your face. You saw Keigo cooking, well trying to cook. His feathers picked up your presence. He turned around to face you.

“Surprise!” He smiled at you, the smile only you got to see.

“What’s all this Keigo?” You smiled as you watched him plate the food. It was Chicken Alfredo

“Well, I wanted to do something nice for you because I’m away a lot. Plus, you said you were not feeling well so it is my job as your boyfriend to take care of you. Also, what hero wouldn’t take care of their partner?” His feathers carried the plates to the table. The table was set up with two glasses of wine.

“Awe, Keigo, you didn’t have to do all of this for me.” You sat down at the table and he gave you a small cup of water, along with some medicine.

“Don’t worry you can have a glass of wine with that, I checked. And yes, I want to show of how much I love and care for you y/n.”

You smiled at him, you decided not to question anything.

“Thank you.” You took the pill and Keigo sat down.

The two of you ate dinner and made some small talk. He told you that there was more in store.

“Keigo, are you sure? You look tired.” You put your hand on his cheek.

“Of course. Besides I know work for you has been really stressful so you need this. Your always taking care of me, let me take care of you dove.” He stood up from his chair and carried you to the bathroom. There were candles lit and soft music playing. But the music was a playlist of all of your favorite songs. Keigo turned the water on and butter your favorite bath bomb in the water.

“Kei- “You started to speak but he cut you off when the bathtub was full, he shut the water off.

“Enjoy your bath, I’ll come back in to bring you some night clothes. Don’t worry it’ll just be some sweat pants and one of my shirts.” He smiled at you and left the room for you to disrobe. The medication you had taken made you feel a lot better. Once you let the hot water relax your muscles you hadn’t felt this relaxed in a while. Your boss was up your ass the past week. You didn’t even hear Keigo knocking on the door, you were so lost in your head. You opened you eyes and saw him entering the bathroom with a hand over his eyes and the other hand holding your clothes and a very fluffy towel.

“Don’t worry, I can’t see anything, all I see is the nothing, which kinda scares me because I can’t see my cute little dove.” He set the towels and clothes on the counter, well he tried too. The bird man used his feathers to guide him since he was covering his eyes. You giggled while sitting up in the tub.

You’ve seen each other naked before but he decided not to push any of your buttons today. He lived to tease you a lot and sure it was both cute and annoying at the same time. But you’d had been so stressed out lately that he just wanted you to relax.

“Keigo, why don’t you join me? The water is so relaxing.” You splashed the water around a bit.

He moved his hand so he could see you. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.” You smiled brightly. “It just taking a bath, and then after we can cuddle like you said we would.” Your cheeks turned a light pink, you loved to cuddle with him and no matter what any time cuddles, snuggles were brought into a conversation your face would heat up, cheeks dusted pink.

“If you say so little dove. Stay there.”

After taking a bath Keigo carried you into your shared bedroom. You were starting to get tired.

“Is it snuggle time yet?” You yawned as he set you down on the bed, the shirt you were wearing was big on you and hung off your shoulders.

“Yes babe, it’ll be snuggling time soon. Just let me turn the TV on.” You pouted like a little kid. “Aww, don’t be like that little dove, just give me a second.”

All you wanted from him was cuddles, I mean he did give the best. His arms would hold you close and make you feel safe. His wings would wrap around you like a blanket, but better than a blanket. You’d grown used to not sleeping with blankets, why would you. When his wings would do the job better. Keigo was taking his time when fiddling with the remote. He smirked at you as the Netflix logo was on the screen. A few of his feathers detached from his wings and went off to what you guessed was the kitchen.

“You want anything, well besides me.” His smirk was still plastered on his face and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Just a bottle of water is good Pretty Bird.” His feathers came bag with some snacks and what you asked for.

Keigo laid down next to you and you nuzzled his cheek. The both of you were laying at the foot of the bed so you could both cuddle and watch Netflix together. You had decided on an old movie. During the movie he would sneak kisses on your forehead, cheeks, temples and everywhere he pleased. He would giggle and that was music to his ears. You would try on kiss him back but before you could he’d peck you on the lips. Theses would make you blush, which would make him want to tease you more.

“Does my little feather like it when I give them surprise kisses?” He had that smirk on his face again. The room was dark but he could feel the heat coming from your cheeks. You kissed him on the cheek.

“I love you Keigo.”

“I love you to y/n.”

After the movie ended, all the snacks were gone. You moved to the head of the bed and laid down on your pillow, Keigo laid down on top of you. You ran your fingers threw his hair and massaging his Scalp. He would coo and smile at you. Once he was about to fall asleep you stopped.

“Goodnight Pretty Bird.” You kissed him on the forehead.

“Goodnight my little dove.” He used his arms to push himself up and he kissed you goodnight.

If this man knew how to do something is was cuddles and chasing a cold away.

(A/N let me know if you'd like me to do more story times also I’m sorry about the text conversations I did it on my laptop so sorry mobile peeps! I love you all!)

#mha x reader #mha hawks #mha keigo takami #keigo's dove #my hero academia keigo takami #mha keigo x reader #mha hawks x reader

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ethan-bears · 5 years ago

Text

Home for Christmas (Nolan Patrick x Reader)

You've resigned yourself to spending this Christmas alone. But Nolan has other plans.

Author's note: I started writing this out as a thought to send to @lindylovegang for her soft thought night tonight but I realized it needed to be a small book whole fic instead, so I decided to do this instead of editing my final paper. This is also not edited. I might edit it later. Who knows.

Warnings: light swearing, holidays, slight angst but it gets fluffy real quick, it's my first fic so it's probably not great, I'm on mobile and I can't figure out "keep reading" and I'm very sorry

Word count: absolutely no idea but good luck fam

gif credit to: bretthowden

*****

This was not how you wanted to spend your first Christmas in Philadelphia. Ideally, you wouldn't even be in Philly at all right now. You should be on a plane back home to your family and friends and the warm, familiar streets of your hometown. You should be waking up tomorrow morning in your grandma's house with the smell of warm bread surrounding you like a hug.

But no. You were trapped.

The blizzard had started to roll in earlier this morning, and you thought to yourself that it wouldn't be that bad, right? It was just some flurries. They wouldn't ground any flights, right?

Oh how wrong you wound up being.

After three hours of waiting for news in the airport terminal, followed by another hour and a half desperately trying to reschedule your flight to a time that would still work and getting nothing out of every airline representative in the building, you somehow managed to get an Uber driver crazy enough to come get you in the ocean of snow. Fighting back tears, you tried to console yourself in the backseat. At least your apartment would be warm. And you had a little tree, so it would still feel like Christmas. You'd make some soup and Skype your family, and while it wouldn't be the same as being with them, it would be better than nothing!

"Reckless optimist," you sighed as you flipped the light switch to your apartment only to be met with continued darkness. Alone in a dark, cold, apartment on Christmas Eve, snowed in with nowhere to go in a city that came nowhere close to feeling like home. Merry Christmas. Slumping against the door, you felt your hot tears break free and cascade down your face. You decided to let all the stress and frustration that had been building all day take over your body, sobbing harder than you could ever remember. Each new wave shook your body, sending you to the floor. You didn't care. It couldn't get worse, so why not act like it?

During a pause in the festivities you decided to check your phone to see if you had any messages from your dad, only to find a text you definitely didn't expect from someone who was definitely not your father.

Sir Nolan the Rosy-Faced: hey, just checking in, i know you're probably mid flight rn but just wanted to make sure you land safely when you do. Crazy storm. Text me?

Sniffing, you paused to process the message. Nolan wanted to make sure you were safe? It shouldn't really have surprised you, but the fact that he was concerned enough to text you while he thought you were still midair was...touching.

You fired a short text back explaining that the flight wasn't happening, thinking he'd respond with a simple "okay" or an "oh, sorry to hear that :(". But the next text you got (mere seconds later) surprised you again.

Sir Nolan: oh my god that sucks! Wait.....does that mean you're home alone tonight?

Me: Yeah, and the power's out, so it's suuuper cold, but idk it's fine, I'll just layer up and go to bed early I guess

Sir Nolan: are you okay?

That one hit you like a truck. No, you thought, I'm really, really not.

Me: Yeah, I'll be fine

Sir Nolan: are you sure? Cause I can come over if you want.

Any other night, you would be losing your mind at an offer like that. Ever since you had met Nolan, you'd had the biggest crush on him. All other crushes seemed like weak sauce compared to how you felt about him. But you'd cried all your energy out. The best response your heart could muster was a meek, "Sure, but don't worry if the snow's just too much."

You were met with a resounding, "Already on my way."

You decided that if you were going to be having company you should at least get up off the floor. You shuffled your way into your bedroom, habitually flicking the light switch before you remembered it was pointless. You fumbled in the dark to your desk drawer, trying to find your flashlight, and once you found it you turned it on and started changing into your warmest pajamas. Now that you weren't just a puddle of self-pity, you started to think about Nolan's sudden inviting-over of himself. You first met him during training camp when your work friend brought you along to meet up with Travis, her boyfriend. She figured that since you were new to the city and also a huge hockey fan that it couldn't hurt to introduce you to some guys on the team and help you make some friends. You weren't sure what to make of Nolan at first. He seemed so quiet and awkward that you thought your own quietness and awkwardness would make conversation impossible with such a knockout of a man. You wound up being horribly wrong, once again, but that time it was in a good way. Neither of you were really the super-outgoing party type, so whenever one or both of you started getting exhausted with the atmosphere you'd usually drift off into your own conversation in a quieter part of the room. As a result, he became a good friend incredibly fast. It seemed there was nothing you couldn't talk about with him, even though you still got nervous about certain things. Like your personal feelings for him. But that had never come up before, so you were safe. For now.

You knew he knew all about how hard the transition to Philly has been for you. How homesick you get, how you can't help but wonder if you made a mistake taking the job offer that brought you here (even though it was your dream job), and how you felt like it was hard to click with so many new people. Which was probably why he seemed so worried about you being alone tonight. He knew you felt alone most of the time anyway.

An hour and a half had gone by and you were starting to get worried about him. He only lived 20 minutes away, and even with the snow, it shouldn't take him that long unless he was stuck and just too proud to call you. It had given you time to call your mom, which you were grateful for and made you feel a lot better, but you couldn't ignore the knot in your stomach anymore. You were just about to hit "call" when you heard a knock at the door. Or more like a thump at the door.

You practically sprinted over to open it for the man-sized popsicle with his arms full of grocery bags standing on your doorstep. You paused for a second with your mouth hanging open, both amazed by the fact that he actually came over and by...him. The cold made his already pink cheeks bright red, and the snowflakes were sticking to his long eyelashes and the free locks of hair that didn't fit under his beanie. You had never seen anything more beautiful in your life.

"Can...can I come in?" Nolan's teeth chattered, snapping you back to reality.

"Oh, yeah, sorry! God, Nol, you're shivering!" you remark, ushering him through the door. Not that inside was that much warmer, but anything was better than being out there.

"It's cold," he laughs.

"Wow, AND he's meteorologist!" you quip back. "What can Nolan Patrick not do?"

Shaking his head, he made a beeline for your kitchen, looking for a place to set his bags down.

"Took me forever to find a place that was still open tonight," he muttered, pulling what looked in the dark like to-go boxes out of one of the bags. You shined your flashlight up to the ceiling to make it light the whole room as Nolan continued to pull items from his three bags. You just stood there, still dumbfounded by him.

"Pat... what's all this?" you manage to squeak out.

"This," he said, pointing to the to-go tubs, "is soup. I'm not completely sure what kind, but I figured soup would be the best thing no matter what. I didn't know if you had any crackers, so I brought some saltines. And some oranges because I knew you'd want something fruity and healthy and oranges are festive. And this," he pulled a thermos out of the second bag, "is hot chocolate. Made it myself." He grinned, sliding it towards you, obviously proud of himself. You could barely contain your own grin, feeling yourself blush. You were proud of him too.

"I saved the best for last," he continued once you took a sip of the cocoa. You frowned.

"What else could you possibly have brought?" you asked, genuinely astonished.

He looked you in the eyes and gave you a smirk. Holy hell. You were glad he probably couldn't see how pink your own cheeks were getting. The things he did to you and he didn't even know.

He carefully pulled a basket out of the last bag, and you could see it was full of a bunch of other things. You couldn't believe it.

"Nolan..." You trailed off, feeling the tears starting to well up again. Inside the basket were a bunch of little gifts with a note that read "For: y/n, From: Us". It had some of your favorite candies, one of those cheesy home-state-scented candles, a scarf with your home team's name and logo on it, and a tin of your favorite tea from a tiny local tea shop in your home town. You tried your best to fight the tears, but you weren't strong enough, rendered useless from your earlier fit.

"Nol-" You couldn't even finish your question before your own sob choked you. You set your thermos and flashlight down to bury your face in your hands.

"Hey, hey," Nolan whispered, pulling you into a hug. You wasted no time in hugging him back, squeezing him as you sobbed into his chest. "Shhhh, it's okay," he muttered to the top of your head. He slowly ran a hand up and down your back, rocking you back and forth. It only made you more emotional. He had never hugged you before, and you hadn't been hugged like this in what felt like years. You just wanted to stay there in his arms forever and ignore the world around you.

"It was a team effort," he continued. "Some of us thought you could use some things that remind you of home."

"Who...who found the tea?" you said into his chest, muffled by his sweater.

"What?" He smiled, pulling out of the hug a bit to let you speak up.

You wiped your face and took a breath. "Who found the tea?"

He pulled the rest of the way out of the hug, much to your disappointment. He leaned his head down, staring at the floor.

"That was me," he mumbled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "I remembered you mentioning it, and it was hard to work out, but they agreed to send me some." Somehow, his voice kept getting lower and lower.

You could hardly believe your ears. He remembered that? You swore you had only mentioned it once in passing after you got a really disappointing chai from a coffee place down the street. You had no idea he had been paying attention. And he went to all the trouble of getting a store with a locals-only business model to ship a product long-distance. You started to wonder if.... No, you thought, don't get your hopes up again tonight.

You stared at him for another moment, trying to soak in the situation. He seemed surprised when you went back in for another hug.

"Thank you so much!" you whisper, knowing that if you said it any louder you'd start crying again. You could feel him relax into the hug and gave him a little squeeze before you ended it.

"Soup time?"

"Soup time." Nolan nodded, practically beaming.

You sat on the couch, eating as carefully as you could in the dark, though your eyes were getting pretty adjusted. From then on, it was conversation as usual. It came so naturally with him that even when you weren't saying anything, you were still happy. You exchanged stories about your favorite Christmases, what you thought the best cookies are, and weird things your families do during the holidays for hours, barely even noticing the time or the cold. At some point Nolan had pulled the blankets off the back of the couch and tossed them over both your laps. You didn't notice that you'd been getting closer and closer to him with every story until you laughed so hard you fell on his shoulder.

"Stop laughing!" He pouted, audibly trying to stifle his own laugh. "I almost got hypothermia. I could've died!"

"I can't...I can't!" you breathe between laughs. "You fell through the ice...but just one leg?!"

"Yeah, and I was stuck there on my side almost doing the splits between the ice and the water and my sister just stood there laughing. Just like you!" He nudged you, pretending to be annoyed. "But eventually she pulled me out and carried me back home. Couldn't move my leg for hours, it was just sticking straight out like..." He stuck his leg in the air, demonstrating, and only making you laugh harder. You could hardly breathe. You knew it probably felt funnier because of how exhausted you were, but you didn't care. Nolan had put a smile back on your face and back in your heart.

"Hey, Nolan?"

"Yeah?"

You swallowed. "I just... I'm not complaining that you're here, obviously, but... weren't you planning on spending tonight with Kevin and his family?"

"I was, but they've got each other, and someone else who's super special to me was sad and alone, which made me really sad to think about. You deserve to be happy and I wanted to help. Easiest decision I've ever made."

You really did not have it in you for another cry, so you settled for teasing him instead.

"That's really cheesy of you, softie."

"Take it while you can," he laughed.

"I know," you smiled.

Your eyes were starting to feel heavy and you let out a jaw-cracking yawn.

"Damn," Nolan remarked. You grunted in response, earning another laugh from him. "Wanna lay down?"

You nodded, leaning into his shoulder.

"You're warm," you sleepily drawl. You wanted to lay down, but you didn't want to get up to go to your bed. You wanted more snuggles, and right now you didn't care if he read into it or not.

He seemed to get the message, moving to lay down and taking you with him. He wrapped his arms around you after making sure the blankets covered you both as much as possible. You smiled contentedly, settling into your position and closing your eyes. You barely had time to contemplate how touchy he was being tonight compared to his normal reservations about hugs and touching before you were completely gone.

*****

Nolan woke up first the next morning. He was careful to move as little as possible to avoid waking you up. You looked so peaceful, curled up with your head on his chest. He felt his heart swell as you shifted to wrap your arms around his torso and fell back asleep within seconds. He smiled down at you, noticing how beautiful you were, even with your messy bedhead and your cheek squished against his chest. He wanted to stay in this moment forever. Just the two of you.

The power had come back on at some point during the night, so it was no longer freezing in the apartment, and the lights on your tiny tree had come on as well. He glanced back over to the kitchen to the basket on the counter. It had been embarrassing enough to admit to being the one who hunted down the tea like a police dog, so he left out the part about the whole gift basket being his idea in the first place. He would've bought you everything himself, but he wanted you to know that you had other friends, too, and that they wanted to show you that they were thinking of you. The scarf was Carter's idea, the candy TK's. Claude had suggested the candle, and being the local expert on how to be good to the woman he loved, Nolan took the advice and bought the candle as well. It did make him strangely jealous of your hometown in a way he couldn't quite explain. He was worried that you would be looking for any excuse to move back home, which he really didn't want. If it made you happy, then of course he'd support you, but he'd never felt for anyone the way he felt about you. The way you laugh, how passionate you get when you talk about something you care about, whether that's a person, a subject, a place, or what the best pizza topping is. He loved everything down to the way you word your sentences. He loved how much you loved.

He was awoken from his thoughts by you stirring and opening your eyes to look at him.

"Merry Christmas," you mumbled.

"Merry Christmas," he mumbled back.

You laid your head back down, enjoying the comforting rise and fall of his chest.

"You hungry? I can try and make you some breakfast. Emphasis on try," Nolan offered.

You laughed at the thought. "That'd be nice. But I don't wanna get up."

"Me neither," he sighed, tracing his thumb along your arm. He was not ready for when you suddenly shot off the couch, eyes manic and wide.

"Oh my god!" you shouted. "I didn't get you anything for Christmas! And you did all that last night!" You waved your hand at the kitchen. Nolan sat up, confused and cold, missing the weight of you on him.

"It's okay, y/n! I wasn't expecting anything."

"No, okay, I'm making you breakfast, and it's gonna be the best damn breakfast I've ever made. Lay back down," you insisted, marching off to the kitchen, wincing at the still-cold floor.

As nice as it sounded to stay under the warm blankets, Nolan didn't want to just sit there doing nothing. Suddenly he had an idea, even though it was a risky one. He decided it was a risk he needed to take eventually.

"Get out!" you playfully threatened, brandishing a spatula at him as he stepped into the kitchen. He put his hands up in mock surrender.

"I won't touch!"

"Good," you smirk, turning back to your pan.

Nolan shuffled around nervously, working up the courage to say what he wanted to. He swallowed and took a deep breath.

"I, uh...I have an idea for what you can give me. If you, uh, still want to give me something. Besides breakfast, I mean." Smooth, Patrick, he thought.

"What's that?" You met his gaze, making his stomach flip. The things you do to him and you have no idea.

"Maybe we can go out sometime? Like, just us. On purpose. To dinner or something?"

You looked like a deer caught in the headlights, making Nolan immediately second-guess himself. He bashfully broke your eye contact, focusing on the floor again. He felt the blush on his cheeks worsening.

"Are you... serious?" you ask, voice full of wonder.

"Of course I am!" he mumbled insistently. "Wouldn't ask if I wasn't."

You almost knocked him over with the force of your hug, a truly impressive feat.

"Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!!!" you laughed, not even bothering to play it cool. Nolan smiled so much it started to hurt, but he didn't care. He felt like he could take off and fly, he was so relieved. The weight of the world was replaced by the weight of you clinging to his shoulders. And he couldn't imagine a better way to spend his Christmas. Maybe, just maybe, he thought, Christmas would be like this forever from now on.

*****

You relaxed into Nolan's arms as he followed you back to the stove, hugging you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. Suddenly, you felt something more than the giddy high of getting asked out by your crush. You felt a sort of peace you hadn't felt since before you moved.

You were home for Christmas.

#red i hope you like it im sorry if it's weird or if im weird #nolan patrick imagine #hockey imagines #emma writes

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darks-ink · 5 years ago

Text

Third Time (’s a Charm)

Is the title a reference to the fact that we’re dealing with a trio of half-ghosts, or is it a reference to the fact that this is the third time I’ve written about the Accident for this event? Who knows!

Prompt: An AU where Sam and/or Tucker also gain ghost powers Prompt by: @dalv-co-official Word count: 9,036

[AO3] [FFN] [more Phic Phight fics]

---

“Nothing is going to happen,” Danny said, trying for bravado to hide the worry that niggled in his chest. “I’m gonna go in, check it out, and then come out. It will all be perfectly fine.”

“Yeah!” Tucker agreed, nudging Sam playfully. “Chill, dude. Nothing’s going to happen.”

Sam made a face at the two of them. “I don’t know, Danny. I have a bad feeling about this…”

“It’ll be fine,” he assured her, softer now. His chest felt like a roaring void, a whirlpool of worry. “Come on, give me that jumpsuit if it’ll make you feel better.”

“You’re gonna look like an idiot.” She smiled a little as she passed it to him, though. “Your parents are a bad influence.”

“Well, it’s gotta do something, right?” Tucker cocked an eyebrow at the suit in Danny’s hands. “I mean, I don’t know about Mr. Fenton, but Mrs. Fenton has to have a reason to wear those things every day.”

“I think my dad is just very convincing.” Danny pressed the jumpsuit against his chest, guessing at the size. It looked about right. A recent creation, then. Lucky him. “I mean, look at me. I’m gonna be wearing the same thing and I don’t even know why.”

Tucker huffed, a smile on his face. “You know why.”

“Don’t give me that,” Danny bit back, unzipping the jumpsuit. “Now look away so I can put this on.”

“Doesn’t it go over your clothes?” Sam asked, before obligingly turning away. “I mean, I’m not an expert, but…”

“Maybe if they’re sized properly, but I grow too quickly for my parents to keep up.” Danny quickly took off his pants, then pulled up his jumpsuit until it rested at his hips. “So it’s tight, and that makes it a pain to wear over regular clothes.”

He stripped off his shirt as well, sticking his arms through the sleeves of his jumpsuit and pulling it up entirely. “Almost ready.”

“Just tell us when you are ready, man.” Tucker shook his head, not turning around. “I don’t want to see your pasty bare chest.”

“Uh, rude.” Danny zipped up the jumpsuit, then ducked down to grab the shoes and gloves. “You can look now. Just gotta put on the last bits.”

Sam turned around, then snorted. “Nice socks.”

“Your support is appreciated as always,” Danny retorted, pulling a black rubbery boot over his space-print socks. “Don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Yeah, speaking of support…” She reached over to his, then tugged on something on his chest. A sticker peeled off, which she helpfully flipped around to show him. “Bet you don’t want to go walking around with this on your chest.”

‘This’ was, in this case, a logo of Jack Fenton’s face.

Danny made a face. “I definitely do not. Sam, you’re a lifesaver.”

“Alright, alright, enough banter already.” Tucker batted at Sam until the logo stuck to his fingers. “Ugh, now it’s on me. I’m getting rid of this thing.”

“Please do!” Danny called after his retreating back. “Knowing Dad, he’s got another three dozen of those things lying around.”

“Don’t speak such horrors into being.” Sam swatted him in the shoulder, and Danny ducked down to pull on his other boot. “You should know better than that, Fenton.”

“You’re overestimating his intelligence,” Tucker replied, before Danny could. “I’ve thrown the sticker into a trashcan. It’s up to whoever is cleaning the lab from here.”

“Hey!” He stuck out his tongue at his two best friends. “Rude. Also, you’ve just made it my problem again by doing that.”

“Well, I’m not gonna burn it for you, man.” Tucker handed him one of the two gloves. “You can do that yourself if you survive this.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to die, Tucker. I’m just checking out the Portal from up close, and letting Sam take a few photos. Perfectly safe.”

“Nothing in this house is safe,” Sam pointed out, quirking an eyebrow. “Our lives are in peril every moment we spent here.”

“Alright, well.” He shrugged. No arguing with that. “In that case, we’re all gonna die sooner rather than later, and checking out the Portal isn’t gonna expedite that.”

“’Expedite’?” Tucker repeated. “Wow, big word. You learn that from Jazz?”

“You’re all bullying me, and I’m leaving.” Danny tugged on the second glove for effect, then pushed himself off of the table he was perched on. “Gonna walk right into the Portal, and this will be the last thing you’ve said to me before I die.”

“Thought you weren’t going to die?” Sam asked, picking up her camera again, slinging the loop around her neck. “You seemed very confident in that.”

He very much was not. Something about the Portal made his skin crawl, made him feel like he’d swallowed ice.

“Right,” he said, mustering a grin. “Well. It’s the point of it that matters.”

“Like you’re going to die without us anyway, dude.” Tucker huffed, the corners of his lips tugging up into a smile. ��Let’s be real, we’re all in this together. Either that Portal explodes and takes all of us out, or nothing happens and we’re all fine.”

Sam shot him an icy look. “Just so we’re all clear, if something does happen, we’re blaming it on Tucker. Right?”

“Right,” Danny echoed. “You’ve brought this upon us, Tuck.”

“Nothing’s going to happen.” Tucker rolled his eyes, then shoved Danny towards the empty arch of the Portal. “You’ve said it a dozen times yourself. It doesn’t work. As long as you don’t electrocute yourself on a power cable, you’re safe as can be.”

“Yeah, no, double down.” Danny nodded, pausing in the mouth of the Portal. “That’s exactly what’s gonna fix this, Tucker. Double down on the promise of death.”

“You’ll be fine,” Tucker said, flapping a hand. “Sam and I will be right here, yeah?”

Sam nodded, lifting up her camera. “For real, Danny. If you’re dying, you’re taking both of us with you.”

“We have so many issues,” Danny declared, laughing. “Alright, well. I’m going.”

“Don’t die!” Tucker shouted after him. The Portal’s insides lit up with the flash of Sam’s camera.

A click sounded. Danny hadn’t even noticed the button before he pressed it.

“Uh,” was all he managed before everything turned green, then white, then black.

---

“We are so screwed,” Sam murmured in Danny’s ear, and he jerked awake. Huh. When had he passed out?

“I’m saying we blame Tuck,” Danny mumbled back, rubbing his eyes with his white-gloved hand.

Wait.

“Look who’s catching on!” Sam clapped him on the shoulder, and Danny scowled at her.

Uh.

“Are all colors weird for you guys too, or is that just me?” he asked Sam’s bright blue eyes and white hair. “Because I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sam wearing this much white.”

“It’s criminal,” she agreed breezily. “But don’t worry, your hair has also gone very white.”

“Aw, you didn’t even mention his ectoplasm green eyes.” Tucker crouched down next to Sam and, hey, his colors were all weird too. His golden yellow eyes crunched. “It matches the Portal behind you. Very nice.”

Danny paused, then turned to look over his shoulder. The Portal’s arch was still the same shiny metal as before, but its entire inside was concealed behind a wall of swirling green ectoplasm.

“So turns out that it just needed some human sacrifice,” Tucker added on, swatting Danny in the leg. “You can tell your parents that, in case they ever want to build another one.”

“Uh, no?” Danny turned to glare at Tucker. “You can tell my parents that, Tuck. You’re the one who tempted fate by saying we would all die together if it turned on.”

“I said it was gonna explode,” Tucker corrected, rolling his eyes. “And clearly it didn’t.”

“Ah, so I just imagined the bright blast of light that spilled out of the Portal?” Sam shoved him lightly. “Just admit it, Tucker, you’ve brought this upon us.”

“Me?” Tucker dramatically clasped a hand to his chest. “You are the one who talked Danny into going into that Portal. Equal blame.”

Danny sighed, pressing his forehead against his hand. “Alright, how about this. We’re all equally screwed. Can we please put some thought into the fact that we all appear to be ghosts?”

“Friends forever?” Tucker tried cheerfully. Sam kicked him in the shin for this suggestion. “Ow, jeez, I thought ghosts couldn’t feel?”

“Let me try.” Sam pinched Danny’s arm.

“Ow, Sam, why?” He swatted her away. “I already died, I don’t need this.”

“Looks like your parents were wrong about the unfeeling part of ghosts,” she decided, nodding to herself. “In both the physical and emotional way.”

“Great, brilliant, fantastic.” Danny clapped his hands together, drawing the attention of both of his friends back to him. “Can we please focus? We’re all ghosts. Now what?”

Sam and Tucker shared a look, then both shrugged.

“Depends,” Tucker decided. “Can we leave this house? Do we have to haunt somewhere specific? What are the rules to ghostly existence?”

“Why are you asking me?” Danny swept a hand around, gesturing at the lab. “Clearly my parents don’t know what they’re about, either!”

“I mean, they made the Portal,” Sam pointed out. “It killed us, yes, but it seems to work just fine now that it’s on.”

“Great.” He rolled his eyes. “Just needed a little blood sacrifice. I’m so glad.”

“Alright, smartass, so what do you suggest?” Sam crossed her arms, the glow around her body brightening in sync with her glare. “Your parents are the most dangerous to us, here!”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Danny growled back, flailing his arms. “What I really want is for us to go back to being human, but—”

Something in his chest, in the very core of his being, stirred. His glow brightened into a flash of light, and Danny was forced to shut his eyes to avoid being blinded.

When the light faded away again, and Danny opened his eyes, he saw…

“Wow,” Tucker breathed, tugging on Danny’s white jumpsuit. “Dude, that’s crazy. Us next!”

“I don’t know how I did that!” Danny swatted Tucker’s cold hand away, feeling his heart thump up a storm. “I just felt something weird in my chest! Like I stirred something.”

“Something cold?” Sam asked, eyes wide. “Like…”

“Cold-hot-cold, constantly whirring?” Tucker finished for her, turning to stare at her. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah, that was it.” Something buzzed underneath his heartbeat, and Danny paused for a moment to dissect the feeling. “Oh my god, I still feel it. It’s just… quieter.”

“Quieter,” Sam and Tucker chorused, looking at each other again.

Light flashed again.

“I can’t believe that that worked,” Tucker grumbled, straightening his now-red barrette. “I mean, seriously. What on Earth is going on?”

Danny made a face, turning to look behind him. The Portal’s surface still swirled, stirred by an unseen force. “I don’t think it’s anything from Earth, Tuck.”

“So we’re, what, in-betweeners?” He scoffed, and Danny turned back to look at him again. “A little human, a little ghost?”

“I don’t know, but you know what I do know?” Sam pushed herself up onto her feet. “I’m gonna go figure that out somewhere that isn’t here. We can tell Danny’s parents that we’ve been up in his room the whole time, or something.”

“Yeah, that… that sounds like a plan.” Danny scrambled up onto his feet as well, then offered a hand to Tucker to help him up too. “We need to figure out what this is. If it’s just temporary or what, and what the effects of it are.”

“You sound like a scientist,” Tucker complained, stumbling when he stood. “But I guess you’re right.”

“Up we go, then.” Danny grabbed his regular clothes, then paused. Nah. He could redress in his room. “Anyone else feeling like their skin is crawling just from being near the Portal?”

“Yeah,” both of his friends answered. They all stopped to look at each other.

“We are so messed up,” Tucker decided.

“Do you think they have ghost therapists?” Sam ducked to pick up her backpack, and Tucker did the same. “They have to be traumatized as all hell, right?”

“I thought we were, like, part ghosts?” Danny passed by them to head to the stairs first. “Wasn’t that what we just decided?”

“Half-ghost therapists, then,” Sam corrected. “Same difference.”

“I hate every part of this conversation.” Tucker started on the staircase behind Danny, then stopped. Looked at Sam over his shoulder. “Are you coming too, Sam?”

A click and a flash of light. Sam appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “Yeah, sorry. Wanted to grab a quick picture.”

“Why, in case we ever need proof of how we got so messed up?” Tucker rolled his eyes before making an impatient gesture at Danny to continue up the stairs. “Seriously, someone’s gonna find that and it’ll disprove all our lies.”

“Chill, I know how to hide photos.” Sam’s heavy boots started clunking up the stairs as well. “It might come in handy later. Who knows?”

“I’m not listening to you two fight again,” Danny told them, stepping into the kitchen and turning around. “Seriously, guys, can we please focus on what’s happening?”

Tucker and Sam also stepped into the kitchen, sharing a look.

“Yeah, alright.” Tucker nodded. “Sam?”

“Uh huh.” She nodded back. “Sorry, Danny.”

“It’s… not fine, but, y’know. I get it.” He shook his head, turning back towards the living room, to the stairs up. “But we’ve got more important things to deal with.”

“You make it sound so ominous,” Tucker griped, his tone light and joking. “I mean, we only sort of died, you know?”

“You’re horrible,” Danny told him. “I’m making the executive decision that we’re gonna be silent until we reach my room. All in favor?”

“Aye,” Sam piped up, slapping a hand in Tucker’s face so he couldn’t reply. “Let’s do it.”

Danny laughed, leading the rest of the way up without another word. Even Tucker remained silent after Sam removed her hand.

Finally, the door to his room clicked shut. He hesitated for a brief moment, then turned the lock as well.

“Okay, so we’re in private. Now what?” Tucker asked, turning to look between Danny and Sam.

“Just so we’re all on one line,” Sam’s purple eyes darted between Danny and Tucker, “All three of us are now, like, half-ghost or something. Right?”

“Is that even possible?” Danny frowned. “Like, I know my parents don’t think ghost and human can be combined, but they obviously don’t know everything.”

“You think either of us have a better source of knowledge?” Tucker scoffed, shaking his head. “I mean, unless Sam just happens to have some kind of goth-guide about this stuff?”

She shook her head as well. “Nope, sorry. Guess we’ll have to figure this out ourselves.”

“Ugh,” Danny groaned, throwing himself backwards onto his bed. “Alright. First things first… What’s first?”

Tucker snorted. “How does this affect our health? How ghostly are we, and how human?”

“Those are two separate things,” Sam pointed out. “But, yeah, those sound like a good start. What are things we need to look out for?”

“We need to start a list,” Danny decided out-loud. He didn’t move to do so.

“Digital or on paper?” Sam asked, grabbing a leaf of paper off of Danny’s desk.

“Digital, duh.” Tucker raised a PDA in the air. “I mean, anyone might come across a sheet of paper with this kinda secret stuff on it.”

“And ghosts typically don’t combine well with electronics,” Danny pointed out, pushing himself up until he was sitting on his bed. “Sorry, Tuck, but I think it might be smarter to stick with paper for now.”

“We can always burn it for safety,” Sam pointed out, stealing a pen from Danny as well. “Okay, so to summarize: figure out health, figure out ghost-human balance, and things we need to look out for. Yeah?”

“Can we start sub lists?” Tucker dragged over a chair to their circle, plopping himself down. “Because I think we should look into those ghostly forms and possible ghost powers as well, but that falls under the ghost-human balance, I think.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah, sounds good. Maybe split ‘things we need to look out for’ into two categories? ‘Things that might be dangerous to us’ and ‘things we need to keep an eye on’?”

“Couldn’t you have suggested that before I wrote it down?” Sam scribbled on the paper, then nodded. “Alright, got it. Anything else?”

“How did we all become half-ghost, or whatever? I mean, I know I was in the Portal when it turned on, but what about you two?” Danny looked between Sam and Tucker.

“Well, I can answer that.” Tucker gestured at Sam and himself. “We were in front of the Portal, remember? When it turned on it pretty much exploded. Blasted all that energy and light outwards. Not sure after that, I think it knocked me out.”

“Same.” Sam frowned at the paper she held. “We definitely got hit in the splashback of the activation. Like, that surface? It kind of… spilled outwards, I guess? Before settling into the frame properly.”

“Hm.” Danny scratched his cheek, thinking. “Do you think that that makes a difference? That I was inside the Portal, and you two outside it?”

“What, like a difference in exposure?” Tucker shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe you’re a little more ghost, and we a little less?”

“I’ll add that to the list.”

Danny leaned back a little, prodding the ball of cold energy in his chest. “We need to do more research on ghosts in general, I think. You two still feeling that power thing?”

“In my chest? Yeah.” Sam tapped her pen on the paper. “It’s kind of quiet, now, but it picked up when I got angry at Tucker earlier.”

“Mine too,” Tucker supplied, kicking his foot against the leg of his chair. “Don’t ghosts have some sort of power center? What did your parents call it again?”

Danny hummed, running through his parents info-dumps about ghosts. “A… something with a C. Core? Yeah, I think that that was it. A ghost core.”

“This is exhausting,” Tucker decided, leaning back in his chair. “Like, both literally and metaphorically.”

“Amen,” Sam and Danny chorused.

They hung out in comfortable silence for a moment, before Danny broke it again. “Okay but like, what was up with that stuff earlier? When we looked like ghosts? Can we do that again? Should we do that again?”

“What do you mean, ‘should’?” Sam looked up from the paper to meet his eyes. “You think it might hurt us if we spend too much time as a human instead of a ghost?”

“I don’t know!” He flailed out his hands. “I don’t know any more about this stuff than you guys! But if we’re, like, half-and-half, that could be a thing, right? Or maybe regular shifting helps with the ghost core, or something.”

“Shouldn’t we figure out if we can keep shifting, first?” Tucker pointed out. “If we can’t shift, there’s no point in discussing its importance, right?”

“Okay, but I don’t think we should all go a the same time.” Sam tapped the pen on the edge of Danny’s desk. “We should use this opportunity to take a good look at each other’s ghost forms.”

“Why?” Danny frowned at her. “What’s the point?”

“There might be some kind of clue hidden in our ghost forms.” She shrugged. “And, even if there’s not, it would be nice to know what, exactly, we look like. Right?”

“Mirrors exist, Sam.”

“Ghosts are very perception-based, Tucker,” she countered. “Maybe there are details that you can’t see yourself.”

“So what if those details only show up to full humans, or full ghosts?”

“Guys,” Danny interrupted them. “Can we please chill on the squabbling? Who’s trying the shift first?”

“You,” they both replied, almost in sync, before sharing a startled look.

“You shifted back to human first,” Sam added, like it was an explanation. “And you were in the Portal, rather than outside it like us.”

“If any of us is more ghostly, or more powerful or whatever, it’s you,” Tucker tacked on.

Danny groaned, but, well. He couldn’t argue with that kind of reasoning.

“Don’t do it while lying down. Stand up,” Sam commanded, kicking him lightly in the shin. “You’ll have to get up when you turn ghostly anyway.”

“I want it to be acknowledged that I hate every part of this.” Danny jiggled his leg. “I’m changing clothes, first. That way we can see if our clothes are the same but inverted or if they were set when we got hit.”

“We’ll turn away.” Sam grabbed Tucker’s arm and turned him around.

“Thanks,” Danny told them dryly, chucking the black gloves onto his bed. He undressed and redressed quickly, then cleared his throat. “Alright, I’m gonna try the ghost thing.”

He prodded the ghost core in his chest. Mentally, of course. It stirred, kicked its whirring up a notch, but nothing else happened.

“Maybe you need to coax it?” Tucker suggested, brow creasing. “You said what you wanted from it last time, right?”

Danny scoffed. “What, so I gotta tell it that I want to go ghost?”

Light flashed. Danny stared down at his white boots.

“I hate this,” he declared. “Just so everyone knows.”

“Duly noted,” Sam told him, before twirling the pen in her hand. “Go turn, ghost-boy. Show us your spooky ghost form.”

“Hate this,” Danny reiterated, before slowly turning in a circle. He thought he could figure most of his appearance out already, since he’d only worn white and black when he went into the Portal. It wasn’t that hard to extrapolate from there, especially since both Sam and Tucker had white hair, and his black gloves and boots had clearly gone white as well. “Oooh, my colors flipped, I get it. What color are my eyes?”

“Green.” Tucker paused, like he was deliberating it. “Pretty much the color of ectoplasm, I guess. Very bright. They glow.”

“They glow?” Danny repeated. He glanced down at the glow around the rest of his body. “What, unlike the rest?”

“Oh, stop being an idiot.” Tucker swatted at him, and Danny caught the warm hand. “Rude. I thought ghosts were intangible?”

Well, that sounded like a challenge. Danny prayed this would work, felt the cold energy pour from his core, and smirked at Tucker.

And then promptly stuck his arm through Tucker’s shoulder.

“Dude,” Tucker swore, jerking away from Danny. “Warn a guy!”

“How’d you do that?” Sam asked, perking up even as Danny’s arm returned to its full opacity. “Can we all do that?”

“Spite, I guess.” He shrugged, prodding Tucker with his now tangible finger. “I just kind of willed it into being, and I felt the energy from my core run through me.”

“So, transparent is intangible…” Sam noted it down, then paused. “What are also basic ghost powers? Flight, right? Or floating, at least?”

“And invisibility, yeah.” Danny stared down at his hands. Invisibility and intangibility he didn’t really care about, but flight? That would be pretty cool.

He felt himself grow lighter, and grinned. His feet lifted off of the ground, and he leaned back. “That’s a yes on flight.”

“Dude, you can keep flight. I want to turn invisible!” Tucker declared, before promptly disappearing from sight. “Hey, why’d I go white?”

“Because you went invisible, moron.” Sam kicked the leg of Tucker’s chair for lack of actual leg, and he startled so badly he became visible again. She kicked him, too, for good measure. “Okay, so powers work in human form as well. What did you say you looked like?”

“Kinda white and transparent, I guess?” Tucker paused just in time for Danny’s flight to falter. He crashed down, thudding into the ground, and light flashed.

“Ugh,” he complained as his core churned loudly in his chest. “I think I ran out of ghost juice.”

“Alright, so we’ve got a limited amount of energy to run through, and if that runs out, we shift back to human.” Sam nodded, her pen scribbling quickly. “So we default back to human, it seems. Tucker, you next? Or did that little invisibility run you out entirely?”

“Uh, I dunno.” Tucker got up, then pulled Danny off of the floor as well. “Maybe if I don’t use any powers after shifting? We just want to look, right?”

Sam nodded, looking up from her paper. “Yeah. Let’s see how far you get. Go for it, Tuck.”

“Alright. Uh.” Tucker looked down at his chest, like he could prod his core better if he looked at it. Not that he could see it, but, y’know. “Going ghost?”

Light flashed once more, then withdrew until just a glow around Tucker remained.

“Please tell me my skin didn’t change color, too,” Tucker begged them, his eyes raising up to meet Danny’s. They were startlingly warm, a golden yellow. “That would kill me.”

“You’re already pretty dead,” Sam pointed out, ignoring the way Tucker’s eyes flared brighter when he glared at her. “And Danny’s skin didn’t change, did it? You’re fine.”

“Very warm, actually,” Danny commented, gesturing at Tucker’s outfit. “It’s all warm purple and orange. Well. Your hat is a little more cool-purple, but your pants are pretty orange.”

Tucker glanced down, as if to confirm, then made a face. “My pants? What about my sweater? What color is this even, magenta?”

He tugged on it, then twirled his hand. “Huh, it does look a little different from up close. Cooler?”

“Might be the ectoplasm underneath your skin.” Danny hummed, considering it. “Since you’ve got green underneath it instead of red?”

“Might be.” Tucker let of his sweater, then paused. Patted down his trousers until he found what he was looking for, pulling out… his PDA. Of course. “I can’t believe my PDA got ghost-ified, too. Look at it, all green and stuff.”

“Does it work?” Sam asked, quirking an eyebrow. “Or has it literally died?”

Tucker blinked his luminous eyes at her, then turned them back to the PDA. He pressed a button, and the screen lit up. “Works,” he stated, somewhat unnecessarily. “But I felt that in my core. I think it might be connected?”

“Good to know.” She scribbled it down on the paper. Must’ve been using shorthand, because Danny was fairly sure she would’ve run out of paper by now. “I was wearing my camera, so that must be the case for me, too.”

“It it helps, I feel no desire to guard it with my very being,” Tucker explained, before pausing again. “Well, no more than usual, I guess.”

“Very comforting.” Sam noted this down, too. “You can shift back, if you want.”

“Going… human?” Tucker tried, and light washed over him. Left him standing in his regular clothes, still holding his PDA. “Hey, that worked!”

“Voice activated ghost-core.” Danny grinned at his friends. “That’s convenient, right? Better than random activation.”

“Might still activate randomly. You can just also force it.” Sam shook her head, then stood up as well. “Alright, here I go. Going ghost!”

Once again light flashed, and once again one of their trio had turned into a ghost. “Well?”

“What do you think? A ton of white.” Tucker dodged Sam’s flailing hands. “What, it’s the truth!”

“I think your colors are pretty easy to figure out too, Sam,” Danny pointed out to distract her. “You were already wearing purple, so you can guess your lipstick and eye color from there. It’s blue, by the way. Cyan-ish.”

“And your hair tie and skirt stripes are nice and red.” Tucker nudged her, playfully. “At least the soles of your boots are darker gray?”

“At least my shirt isn’t eye-searingly pink,” she countered, lifting the camera that hung off of her neck. Its strap had gone white, too, but the camera itself had barely gone any darker. “Say cheese!”

“Cheese,” Danny said. The light flashed, and he tried to blink the spots out of his sight again. “Ugh, I think that that thing is even more blinding than it was before all of this.”

“It might be. I definitely felt it in my core, so it might be running off of my ghost powers.” She sighed, reaching up to tug on her ponytail. “Hey, guys, is my hair doing anything weird?”

Danny looked. Huh. “Yeah, it kind of is? Looks like a flame. Kinda flickering in a non-existent wind, I guess?”

“Yeah, what Danny said.” Tucker reached up past Sam, swatted a hand through her hair. “Feels like hair, though. Might be a ghost thing? Danny’s hair looked kind of wind-swept, too.”

“Hair no longer obeys the laws of gravity, got it.” Sam nodded, and light swept over her, returning her to her human appearance. “I’ll add that to the list.”

“What good will that knowledge do us?” Tucker questioned, before shaking his head. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

Sam sat down again, starting to quickly write down everything. “So. Ghost powers, which can be used in both forms, but it might be more exhausting in human form?”

“Definitely more exhausting in human form,” Danny decided, experimentally prodding his core. “My core feels way weaker like this, and ectoplasm is more conductive to those kinda powers, too.”

“That’s good to know. Hunger might be either increased or decreased. I’m feeling kinda hungry myself.”

“Starving,” Tucker declared, tone grim.

“Same. I think we both used a lot of energy by using our powers.” Danny sighed. “At least we have the excuse of being teenagers. I wonder if that’ll decrease over time, the hunger? Maybe we need to settle in.”

“Ghosts usually need time to get to their full power levels, I think.” Sam tapped the back of the pen against her cheek, then noted it down. “Maybe it’s got to do with our cores? They were easily exhausted, and I can’t imagine that all of that comes from the fact that we’re somewhere halfway, instead of full ghosts.”

“Might be linked to ectoplasm exposure as well.” Danny waved a hand around in a vague gesture. “There’s ambient ectoplasm in the air around my house, with my parents being, y’know, my parents. But there’s gotta be way more of that stuff in the Ghost Zone.”

Tucker hummed. “Do you think that eating contaminated food would help?”

“That’s disgusting.” Sam made a face at him. “I hate that you raised that possibility.”

“We can try it out. I’m used to eating that stuff, anyway.” Danny shrugged under their incredulous looks. “Hey, come on, sometimes you’re hungry enough that you can eat anything, yeah? It’s been a long fourteen years. Ask Jazz, it’s not that unreasonable.”

“I hate every part of this,” Tucker declared heartily. “We might want to stay over more, just in case. If ectoplasm is a big deal to developing ghost cores, we’ll pretty much starve them whenever we go home.”

“My parents won’t notice anyway. The moment they see that the Portal is on, they’ll move into the lab and barely leave it.” He leaned back against his bed. “And that way we can keep a close eye on our developing powers, too.”

Tucker groaned, then pushed himself to his feet once more. “I’ll call my parents and ask if I can stay over another day. We’ll see how school goes tomorrow.”

“Yeah, same.” Sam dug a cellphone from her pocket. “Maybe it won’t take that long to settle a core.”

“Or maybe tomorrow will be the worst day of school ever.” Danny laughed at the concept. “Although I guess high school already sucks anyway.”

---

Danny lowered his forehead against his desk. Carefully, so that he didn’t make a sound. Didn’t want to draw Lancer’s attention, after all.

“Same,” Tucker whispered, his voice quiet but clearly audible to Danny. “God, this lesson is so boring.”

“No kidding,” Danny whispered back. Next to him, Valerie Gray jerked.

“Who are you talking to?” she hissed at him. When he opened his mouth, she shushed him. “No, quiet. Don’t draw Lancer’s attention.”

Danny lifted his head to frown at her.

“That was weird,” Sam said, far too loudly to miss in the quiet of the classroom. Valerie didn’t respond.

“Oh my god,” Danny thought, as loud as he could make the thought. “Can we read each other’s minds?”

“What? Oh.” Tucker somehow conveyed the feeling of an awkward shuffle. “That can’t be a normal power for ghosts, right?”

“Maybe it’s because we all got hit by the same thing at the same time?” Sam suggested. She was frowning at her book, not looking at Danny or Tucker. “Or it’s because we’re all so close?”

“Emotionally or physically?” Tucker joked, his lip quivering as he repressed his smile. “I don’t care about the other ghost powers, but this is basically a superpower, right?”

“You don’t count flight as a superpower?” Danny prodded, staring blankly at Lancer. He was explaining… something. Danny didn’t care, the conversation with Sam and Tucker was far more interesting.

“You’re so loud,” Sam complained. “We’re all bored out of our minds, Danny, thank you. Lancer is talking about metaphors in English classics.”

“Oops. Sorry.” He tried beaming the feeling of a sheepish smile at them. “Okay but wait. Is this distance bound, or can we telepathically talk over long distances too?”

“I’ll add that to the list.” Sam shifted her notebook, moving a separate sheet of paper out of it. “So, we’re all basically superpowered half-ghosts now, or something?”

“It makes sense, though.” Tucker flicked his eyes at the windows, then moved them back to Lancer to pretend he was paying attention to the lessons. “We’re basically balanced between human and ghost, yeah? So maybe we’re supposed to protect that balance for the world, too?”

“The Portal acts as a gateway for ghosts to access Earth, and for humans to reach the Ghost Zone.” Danny felt understanding pour in from Tucker and Sam. “But the Portal can’t control that, so we have to do that for it.”

“We’ll need to work on our powers, then,” Sam decided, her pen scribbling more onto the very cluttered paper. “And maybe some kind of costumes. I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t want anyone finding out about this.”

Tucker scoffed over their link, remaining still and quiet at the same time. “We kind of come with those built in? We just use our ghost forms. Duh. What we really need are names.”

“Well, if we’re using our ghost forms, maybe we should have matching ghostly names?” Danny suggested.

“I don’t know. We’ll need names kind of similar to our actual names.” Sam hummed over their link. “That way we’ll be more inclined to listen to it.”

“What about something based on our last names, then?” Tucker gave an inquisitive prod. “It’ll be familiar enough for us to respond to it, but people won’t be quite as inclined to listen for it. They’ll think of Danny, and Sam, and Tucker, not Fenton, Manson, and Foley.”

Danny pushed some laughter over their link, undoubtedly pouring along some joy with it. “I like Phantom for myself, then. It sounds enough like Fenton that I’ll answer to it automatically, but not similar enough for people to link it immediately.”

“And it’s a ghost joke?” Danny could feel Tucker rolling his eyes. “In that case I want to be Ghouley. Get it? Ghoul-ey?”

“You’re both the worst, and I’m never gonna know a moment of peace ever again,” Sam declared, before immediately following it up with, “I’m gonna be Manes, then.”

“Manes?” Tucker repeated, doubt and hesitation pouring through their link. “You’re not that hairy, Sam.”

“Ha ha,” she replied, humorless and dry. “Manes are a mythology thing, Tucker. They’re benevolent spirits, basically.”

“That lines up pretty well with what we’re gonna be doing, I guess.” Danny hummed, forcing himself to make the sound across their link only. In front of him, Lancer continued to chatter nonsense. “More experimentation with our powers would be a good idea, for sure.”

“Your place after school?” Tucker paused, and Danny caught snippets of thoughts grazing past the link. “No, wait, that’s probably not a good idea with your parents. Uh, my house is probably too small to go unnoticed, too.”

“We can go to my place?” Sam conveyed a shrug. “My parents are rich, so we’ve got a huge mansion. We can hide in my room.”

“You’re rich?” Tucker spilled amazement through their link, but it was promptly washed away by Sam’s disgruntlement. “Oh, sore point, sorry. Yeah, no, that sounds good.”

Danny watched Lancer talk for a moment, not really listening to what he said. “Actually, I might try dropping past my house first. I can ask my parents for some more information about ghosts. Even if it’s not all correct, it’ll give us something to work off of, at least?”

“And we might be able to listen along with the link,” Sam realized. A vicious kind of joy came from her side of the link. “Hell yeah. Be sure to ask them about ghosts and their appearances. Maybe Tucker and I can tweak ours to match you. The jumpsuit isn’t great, but it’s better than a white crop top or a magenta sweater.”

“It’ll make us look more superhero-y, too,” Tucker pointed out. “We can all go for black jumpsuits, but accessorize it our own ways. Plus our eyes kind of match, too, don’t they? And we all have white hair.”

“Our eyes match?” Danny asked, before realizing. “Oh my god, they do. I’ve got green, you have yellow, and Sam has blue.”

“It’ll be a good way to test range, too. Tucker and I can go to my place, and you go to yours. Check in regularly to make sure the link is still working.”

“Sounds good.” Danny made a face when he realized that Lancer had stopped talking. “Oh, we’re supposed to work on an assignment, I think. Did anyone pay attention to what Lancer was talking about?”

“No, but I know enough about metaphors anyway.” Exasperation leaked from Sam. “We can do the work together via the link, I guess. Might be good practice.”

“Hell yeah, teamwork!” Elation from Tucker, so strong that Danny had to work to keep the smile off of his face. “You’re the best, Sam!”

---

“Testing,” Danny cast out over the link, standing in his kitchen. “Link still good?”

“We hear you loud and clear,” Sam replied. Tucker supplied a feeling of agreement. “Try to get the information into the link with as little paraphrasing as possible.”

“You are so demanding,” Danny told her, with absolutely no heat. “Fine. Going down.”

He hopped down the stairs, into the basement lab. It looked… Pretty normal, actually. The Portal had acquired doors since yesterday, when he had last seen it. They were striped yellow and black.

“Mom, Dad?” he asked, raising his voice. They were on the other end of the lab, working with all kinds of metal parts. “Are you busy?”

“Danny-boy!” his dad boomed, dropping everything in his hands with an enormous clatter. “We always have time for you, kiddo!”

“Can I ask you about…” He hesitated for a moment. Support poured in through the link, immediately. “Can I ask you about ghosts?”

“Ghosts?” Maddie looked up from the pile of parts as well, pulling her goggles off of her eyes to shoot him an incredulous look. “Why… Yes, of course, always.”

“It’s just…” Danny gestured at the Portal. “I know I’ve grown kind of skeptical about all that ghost stuff with age, but that’s… that Portal is pretty convincing. Can you… tell me about what ghosts look like? So I’ll know if I ever run into one?”

His parents shared a look, and Maddie hummed thoughtfully. Danny focused on her when she opened her mouth, trying to commit the words he heard straight to the link. “Well, ghosts are very varying in appearance. Even if they were living beings, before, they don’t retain those memories, so they can interpret themselves however they want.”

“So it’s based on their own will?” Sam asked over their link, and Danny repeated it to his parents.

“More or less,” his dad agreed, nodding. “They won’t mess with it much, though, because that’s a waste of their energy. Most of the time, a ghost will stick to the same appearance unless they go through a major change of power.”

“But they could?” Danny prodded. “If they wanted to?”

“I suppose, yes.” Maddie cocked her head, her eyes narrowing. “But ghosts don’t particularly care about such things. They are very basal beings, Danny. It’s all about energy, and changing their appearance usually won’t be worth it. You’ll know a ghost when you see it.”

He guessed so, yeah. The three of them had figured it out pretty quickly. “Yeah, alright. Um. Thanks.”

“Always, Danny!” His dad reached over to clap him on the shoulder. “We love to see our kids pick up an interest in ghosts! Is there anything else you wanted to know, kiddo?”

“More basic stuff, maybe?” Tucker suggested over the link. “Anything more about ghosts. Do they have a ‘ghosts for dummies’ guide?”

“I do, at least,” Sam added with a laugh. “We could try comparing it with the Fenton’s research.”

“Uh, actually.” Danny set a smile on his face. “Do you have some kind of… beginner’s guide, or something? So I can read up on the basics?”

“We’ve told you about the basics a dozen times, Danny,” Maddie chastised. She clucked her tongue, then frowned. “But, yes, I think we have something like that. Jack, honey?”

“Yes, we needed something to lead investors into the whole ghost story.” Jack nodded. “Apparently ghosts weren’t as commonly known as we thought.”

Danny grinned wider. “That would be great! I know you’ve told me all that stuff already, but I would feel better if I can read it, too. Just as a refresher, you know?”

Amusement over the link, from both Sam and Tucker. Danny sent them the feeling of flailing his hands at them in return. The amusement increased, now combined with laughter. Ugh. Jerks.

“Here you go, sweetie.” Maddie held out a stack of stapled paper. “This is the last copy we had left. Is that good enough?”

“Uh…” Danny flipped through the sheets real quick, sharing the basics through the link. “Powers, abilities in general, anatomy, how and why they function?”

“Sounds like a good start,” Sam replied.

“Yeah,” Danny said to Maddie, smiling up at her. “Thanks, Mom, Dad. This is great.”

“If you have any more questions, you know where to find us.” She leaned over to ruffle his hair, and he huffed at her. “Your dad and I would love to talk ghosts with you.”

“I honestly can’t tell whether they love ghosts or hate them,” Tucker stated through the link. It felt like he was frowning. “Like, they constantly talk about how despicable they are, but it’s like their lives are centered around ghosts and only ghosts.”

“I think they love the science behind them, but hate the actual ghosts,” Danny explained, glancing at the stapled paper. “Either way, I don’t want them finding out that we’re defying what they think they know of ghosts. Are we sleeping at your place, Sam?”

“Might as well.” She shrugged across the link. “We can order food, too. My parents won’t care.”

“Mom, Dad?” Danny shot them a hopeful look. “Can I, uh, sleep over at Sam’s tonight? We’re gonna work on homework together.”

They shared a look. Jack shrugged, and Maddie rolled her eyes in response.

“Yes, honey, that’s fine.” She ruffled his hair again. “But we want you back home tomorrow after school, okay?”

He nodded, rolling the paper in his hands. “Of course. See you tomorrow! And good luck with your ghost stuff!”

Danny sped back up the stairs, closing the link back to just his thoughts. “We good?”

“Yeah, that was great.” Approval from Sam. “Bring the paper, we’ll make some copies of it here so we can mark it and stuff.”

“Coming right over.” He picked up his backpack, closing the front door behind him. “Uh. Your address?”

A wave of embarrassment. “…Right. Here you go, it’s—”

---

“Going ghost!” Danny said, and light haloed around him until he was left in his ghost form.

Sam and Tucker hummed, circling around him. Judgment poured from their sides of the link.

“Well?” Danny asked, cocking an eyebrow at them—both in real life and via the link. “Thoughts?”

“So many,” Sam sneered. Disgust and distaste, the link said. “But it’ll do. Better than white. What’d you say at school, Tucker?”

“What? Oh, that. The jumpsuits are kind of superhero-y, right?” A mental shrug. “If we’re gonna be some kind of superhero-protector people, we might as well commit to the look.”

“So black and white jumpsuits, with details in our eye colors? We’re gonna need a mirror, I think.”

A mental eye roll from Sam. “Danny. Trust me, I have full-body mirrors. What we really need is for you to shift back and make a design first, before you’re committing.”

“Hm. Fair point.” He mentally commanded his core to shift him back to human, and surprisingly, it did. “Are we gonna start by scribbling up some designs and then comparing them, or are we all doing our own takes?”

“Tucker can put together some designs,” Sam decided, ignoring any signs of protest they might scour up. “Danny and I are gonna compare those ghost guides.”

Ugh, reading.

“Don’t give me that, Fenton,” Sam bit at him, and, hm. He was definitely gonna work on having thoughts to himself. “It’s your parents’ work, and your parents’ Portal that caused this.”

“Which you convinced us to mess with,” Tucker pointed out, smugly. “But, yeah, sure, I’ll whip up some neat costumes based on the jumpsuits. We want them just different enough that people won’t immediately think of the Fentons, right? What about logos?”

Sam and Danny shared a look.

“No logo, got it,” Tucker decided based on that, and possibly the disgust they were flooding their telepathic link with. “I’ll get on it. Have fun with reading.”

“I won’t,” Danny assured him, waving the stack of papers at Sam. “I’m gonna do this entire thing via the link just to make you suffer along, Tuck.”

“We’ve been talking via the link the whole time.” A flicker of annoyance from Tucker. “Seriously, we haven’t said a word to each other since we discover we could do this, I think. Certainly not since you’ve come here.”

Danny… had not realized that. Whoops.

“Keeping this a secret is gonna be hell,” Sam decided and, yeah. Yeah, it was gonna be.

She thumped him on the head with a book before he could say anything about it. “Read,” she commanded, and Danny wasn’t stupid enough to keep fighting her on this.

The two of them laid down on the floor, the stack on simplified ghost research in front of him, and the book in front of Sam. A clipboard with a pen laid in between them, with a rough list of things to look out for written down already.

“So are we going down the list, or are we reading through these things and noting down anything relevant?”

Sam paused for a moment. “Yes.”

“That was very enlightening, thank you.”

“Just read through the list, then a chapter of your thing,” Tucker interrupted. “Rinse and repeat.”

“Sounds like a plan. Thanks for your support, Tuck.”

A pleased rumble. “Always, dude.”

“Can we please just read?” Sam grumbled into the link.

Danny reached for the clipboard so he could read through the list. Hm. Just more of the same. Powers, workings of both the anatomical and psychological kind. Strengths and weaknesses.

He reached for the stapled stack of paper, flipping the first page. “Well, here I go. Someone bury me if I die.”

“Too late.”

“Touche.”

They spent the next eternity reading. Or designing suits, in Tucker’s case.

“So we’ve got basically nothing,” Sam concluded, looking at the clipboard. They had divided it up in two sections per point: the scientific Fenton take, and the spiritual goth take. For almost all points, they were completely different.

“Yeah. The few things we know about ourselves directly defy the things the books say.” Danny shrugged. “Besides, we’re hybrids, aren’t we? We probably don’t follow the known stuff anyway.”

“We’ll just have to figure it out ourselves,” Tucker said, a wave of comforting warm coming from him. “It’ll be fine. We’ll manage.”

A brief moment of silence as they all contemplated that.

“Anyway, I’ve put together some potential designs for our suits. Who wants to see?”

“If by see you mean ‘tear into them’ then yes,” Sam decided, already pushing herself off of the floor to go look.

Ah. There was the much needed normalcy.

---

Danny stared at his dad as the man walked to one end of the Portal, then turned around and walked to its other side. Left, right, left, right.

“He’s not even remotely talking about ghosts,” Tucker complained.

“Have you ever met my dad?” Danny asked with a mental eye roll. “He always talks about whatever you’re least interested in hearing about.”

His core stirred up, suddenly, a feeling of anxiety pouring from every side of the link.

“Uh,” was all Sam managed, then the Portal’s surface burst apart. Two ghosts entered the lab through it, violently green octopuses with bright red eyes.

Jack didn’t even turn around. Didn’t seem to notice in the slightest.

“Now what?” Tucker asked, doubtful. “Are we supposed to keep ghosts and humans separate, or…”

The ghostly octopuses flung their ragged tentacles at Sam and Tucker. Both half-ghosts dodged, falling off of their chairs.

“I suggest that we fight these, at least.” Danny shot a look at his dad, but the man had wandered off, and was now talking into a cabinet. “And quick, before Dad notices.”

He tugged on his core, shifting into his ghost form with practiced ease. On the floor, Sam and Tucker did the same.

The ghosts paused. Shared a hesitant look, now that they were faced with three matching ghosts, rather than an assortment of humans.

Sam’s electric blue eyes brightened as she grinned at them. The color returned in the swirling lines of her suit, creeping over her like vines.

Danny lifted up next to her, cracking his fingers. Flared his own green eyes dangerously. He finally knew the exact color of it, having replicated it in the minimalistic linework of his suit.

Tucker took up the last slot in the line, the golden yellow of his eyes reflected in the circuit-like lines of his suit.

“Boo,” they all said, perfectly in sync.

The ghosts warbled and dove back through the Portal.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Sam scoffed. Her side of the link conveyed a mixture of disappointment and challenge. “I’m almost disappointed.”

“Look at it from the positive side,” Danny comforted. “Now you’ve got even more time to teach us how to fight as a human before we gotta put it in practice.”

“Nah, man, I’m going crazy if I go through another round of training without actually hitting anyone.” Tucker settled back onto the floor, soundlessly, and shifted back to human.

Danny and Sam followed suit. “Here’s a solution for all of us,” Sam said as they did so. “We can just fight each other.”

“Hooray,” Danny and Tucker both cheered. Sam’s glare was heated, stabbing them right in the link. The flares of vivid cyan didn’t help.

---

“I can’t believe this,” Sam hissed over the link. Agitation, and a lot of it.

“Sam, we still can’t see what you’re looking at,” Danny reported, spacing out of his breakfast. “What’s up?”

“The newspaper finally acknowledged our existence!”

“Uh oh,” Tucker said, groggily. “That’s not excitement.”

“They’re calling us menaces! And dangers to society!” She practically flooded their link with anger.

Danny, in return, shot her some comforting warmth. “It’s fine, Sam. Whatever. When have you ever cared about what people thought of you?”

“But after all the work we’ve put into it!” She was practically shouting, now. Danny was certain that her eyes were, by now, so bright that her entire room was cast in blue light. “They can’t just— ignore every good thing we’ve done!”

“Sure can,” Tucker pointed out. “Look, Sam, chill. People know who—and what—we are. What we do.”

She grumbled wordlessly.

“We’re the protectors of Amity Park, Sam,” Danny soothed. “We are the people who keep this city safe, both the humans and the ghosts. We don’t need the newspaper to know that we’re doing a good job.”

“Ugh. How can you be so optimistic about this with your parents being,” a vague mental gesture, “y’know?”

“Oh, trust me, I know.” He looked up to where his parents were tinkering with some kind of invention. At the kitchen table, no less. He would have to sic Jazz on them again. “It’s just… the right thing to do, you know? Even if we’re the ones with these abilities because we were the only ones stupid enough to mess with the Portal, we can still do something.”

“We’re the protectors of Amity Park,” Tucker agreed. “Whether the people of Amity appreciate it or not.”

“How are you all so sappy this early in the morning?” She scoffed. “I am not awake enough to deal with this. Yeah, sure, fine, whatever. We’re all the great heroes of Amity Park, and the Ghost Zone and whatnot. Forget I ever complained.”

“Sure,” Danny said, throwing sparks of joy into the link. “So, I think my parents are working on some kind of ghost translation device…”

Both of his best friends groaned across the link, and Danny smiled into his breakfast. It had only been a little over a month, but he couldn’t imagine life as a regular human anymore. His core chirped happily in his chest, and his best friends chattered in his head, unheeded by distance.

Life was good.

#phic phight #phic phight 2020 #phic phight 20 #danny phantom #dp fanfic #phanfic #fanfic #dp fanfiction #phanfiction #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #dark writes

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