#anyway second day of school is going shitty as you can see (i blame them) but at least i saw my best friend so life is good😽😽

[ladyinbl00d]

losing sanity ever so slowly

[missathlete31]

Work In Progress.... Thursday?

This little conversation came to me when, (shockingly) I was thinking about Hangman angst. Basically it's a conversation between Javy and Nat after the mission, where Javy can't seem to take everyone bashing his best friend anymore (aka fandom Javy is the best Javy).

It paints Hangman in a good but sad light, (sorry I can't help it, I'm VERY BIAS towards him). But I would love to hear what people think about it.

Fair Warning: It's a very rough first draft! Also some adult language in here.

"Are you really all that fucking blind" Coyote spat, an unusual show of animosity dripping from his tone.

"Excuse me?"

"It's an act, Jesus Christ, it's a fucking act" Coyote looked her right in the eyes, any drunkeness she thought she saw was long gone, "he acts like a dick, he acts like the world's cockiest asshole but god he doesn't know any better."

"Don't excuse his bullying-"

"It's how he gets you all to fly better Phoenix, and don't even try to deny that it didn't work. He a shitty communicator but he gets results."

"Why would he bother-“

"Because he cares, shit he cares. He worries non-stop about all of you, about all of us. He brought up Bradshaw's father, a dick move I know" he cut in before Natasha could, "because he was petrified that Rooster wouldn't fly fast enough without it. He knew Mitchell was picking him for the mission and he needed to get him motivated."

"Maverick wasn't even team leader then, don't tell me Hangman knew-"

"Of course he knew, we all did. Everyone saw there was history, everyone saw the way Maverick chased after Rooster on the tarmac that first day. It was obvious he was on some sort of apology tour and was going to use the wingman spot to curry favor- I'm not saying Bradshaw didn't deliver in the end" Javy raised a hand to stop the argument she was about to make, "but you cannot tell me that he was the right choice prior. He never made it through the course under the time. He constantly ignored his group to make a point that slower was fine."

Natasha's gaze turned to Rooster who was chatting with Omaha, Fitz, Fanboy and Payback at the pool table. All was good now but Phoenix remembered the fear in Payback's voice over the comms when he knew Rooster wasn't flying fast enough; wasn't leading them fast enough. Coyote was right; she was blinded by her loyalty at the time but choosing Rooster was clearly Maverick's attempt at making amends, a decision that could have resulted in people not making it home. She turned back to see the other pilot was watching her gaze, "You knew it too,” Coyote told her softly some of his anger burned away, “you just didn't want to accept it."

"I couldn't" she looked down, "not at the time."

"I get it."

But Natasha raised her head, her own anger coming back, "Of course you do," she chided, "you’re blinded by your best friend too. You can't honestly convince me that his actions are because he cares. He insults us regularly.” she spat bitterly.

“He pushes you, in the only way he knows how.”

“Coyote-“

"Believe whatever you want" Javy shrugged, "he prefers you think the worst of him anyway."

"I mean it's just- he's-"

"I know what he is" and again that sobering look was on the man's face, "I know better than anyone and if you or any of the other's would bother to take a second to really look, you'd see it too."

"He's horrible to everyone, can you blame them-"

"Who is always the first one to text you for your birthday Natasha, no matter where either of you are stationed?"

"Okay but-"

"Who sent flowers for your grandmother's funeral? Who drove you six hours to your parents that time you were stuck four years ago? Who helped Yale get the leave he needed by trading in his own? Who made sure Rooster got to the hospital the night of his car accident in flight school? Who salvaged Halo's birthday party when everyone got reassigned at the last minute? Who fought those guys that jumped Omaha despite having no other backup? Who cleaned up when we all got trashed after the dogfight football game so Penny didn't have to on her own? I know it's easier to think of Jake Seresin as a dick but don't deny he hasn't been a friend all these years as well. I thought better of you."

"That's not fair-"

"Isn't it?” His eyes narrowed dangerously, “tell me, do you know when Jake's birthday is?"

The woman couldn't help the heat that rushed to her face from her lack of answer, "I- I don't" she admitted.

"Do you know anything about him? His family? His hometown? Anything? Did you know he never goes back home during leaves or holidays? He stays on base alone or he goes with me if I'm off the same time."

Again Nat shook her head, "I- I never realized-"

"Yeah" Coyote finished his drink and stood up from his barstool, "I didn't think so."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go check on him. I want to make sure he's alright-"

Her brow furrowed, "Why wouldn't he be?"

"Just forget it."

"No wait," she pulled at Javy's arm so he couldn't walk away, "I’m serious. I know he didn’t come out tonight but I figured he had other plans or something. Is that not the case?”

Coyote looked her dead in the eye for a moment and Phoenix felt like she was taking a test she didn’t know how to pass. Finally Javy seemed to lower his defensives, “He didn’t come out because he was trying to get some sleep” the man shared carefully.

“Oh-“ Nat couldn’t contain the surprise, “he’s having trouble sleeping?”

“Something like that.”

“You’re worried about him” she observed softly.

“Someone has to” he shot back tightly, “because he sure as shit isn’t going to worry about himself.”

The statement caught Natasha off guard but she opted to not question it. She always thought of Jake Seresin as self centered but clearly from the stress in Javy’s posture, it seemed that cockiness was just another part of the Hangman show. Phoenix cleared her throat to get her companion’s attention, “do you think-“ she huffed out a breath, not sure how her request would be received, “do you want some company to go check on him? Maybe I can help?”

Coyote stayed silent for a moment as he watched her with a frown. His eyes shifted to the other Daggers still having fun before they rested back on the female aviator, “don’t you want to get back to the others?”

“I want to check on my friend” she amended with a raised brow, relieved when Javy matched her expression but didn’t exactly contradict her. “He’s not going to like it” Coyote offered instead, “Jake didn’t want anyone to know.”

“When have I ever done what Hangman likes” she tried to joke. It barely landed but Phoenix counted it as a win when Javy gave the tiniest of a nod towards the door, “alright, let’s go.”

Part 2:

Javy headed into the gym quickly, immediately reaching for the speed controls on the treadmill and slowing it to a walking pace. Hangman offered a weak nod as he staggered off the machine. "Thanks man" the man's voice was breathy as he panted, "went a little too hard."

"'A little hard?'" Coyote mocked, "you look ready to collapse-"

The blonde waved him off, reaching for his water bottle and taking a big sip, "I'm fine- what you doing here anyway?"

"When I didn’t see you in your bunk, I figured your dumbass would head to the gym, do you have any idea what time it is? What are you doing Jake? The treadmill says you’ve been running for 11 miles already! Are you crazy?”

The blonde pilot bristled in indignation but Javy could see the touch of embarrassment that colored Hangman's cheeks, "It’s fine” Jake argued, “It’s just a work out, don’t get all upset-"

"I will get upset because you’re meant to be trying to get some sleep" he emphasized the other man’s sweating body, "this doesn't look like sleeping."

"Just needed to get my body a little more tired before I try again-"

"Jake this is the fifth night in a row-"

"It's getting better, I was able to get twenty minutes before-"

Javy shook his head sadly, "You need to talk to someone man,"

"I'm handling it-"

"No you're not, you haven't gotten a decent night sleep since we docked and I'm getting worried.”

Hangman opened his mouth to respond but stopped when he noticed another figure in the gym, a dark haired woman standing just a few feet back, "Phoenix?" he gaped out in surprise, “what are you doing here?"

Nat offered a weak wave as she stepped closer, "Hey Bagman-"

Jake’s green eyes narrowed onto his best friend, cold with betrayal, "Why did you bring her?” He asked sternly.

Javy shrugged, "She insisted."

"For what?” Hangman asked, “ I texted you before that I was fine. I told you to enjoy your night-"

"And I wasn't. Not with you here not sleeping- come on man, let me help-"

"There's nothing to help" Jake turned to Phoenix, his voice short but with more emotions than he normally showed, “I don't know why you felt the need to come but you can head on back to the bar now, nothing to see here."

The woman refused to be deterred, "I heard you’re having trouble sleeping-“ she began.

Jake’s shot Javy another nasty look before turning back to Nat with a smirk on his face, “no actually,” he retorted icily, “I felt like a late night workout. It takes a lot to look this good-“

"Jake-" she couldn’t contain her eye roll, “you don’t have to lie”

“Lie about what Natasha?" He opened his arms like he welcomed her argument, “I’m sleeping fine okay? Javy is just being ridiculous. I’m good-“ but he cut off when Natasha’s hands grabbed his. “Jake” she whispered, waiting until his green eyes finally met hers, “please. I'm not here to judge you. It’s okay.” she motion to Javy and herself, “we both just want to help you.”

“I don’t need help!” The man continued to argue. “I told you I’m good- I can sleep anytime I want okay,” his composure started to slip, his words becoming more frantic, “I can. It’s fine. I’m fine-“

She squeezed his hand tighter, “it’s normal what you’re going through” she reasoned but the blonde aviator only shook his head, “it’s not” he finally admitted, voice broken, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me” he let out a loose sob.

“Oh Jake” Nat pulled him into her chest despite their size difference, “there’s nothing wrong with you. I get nightmares too you know-"

But it was clear she said the wrong thing as Hangman jumped from her embrace as though burned. He scrubbed at his face, erasing any evidence of his breakdown. “It makes sense you have nightmares” the man explained, his tone softened at the woman’s admission, but he kept his distance. “You had the bird strike, you flew the mission. Your nightmares are warranted.” He shook his head, “I was just the spare, I never flew the course-“

Nat's eyes widen as she stared at the exhausted man in front of her. One look at Javy and she could tell that he felt just as horrified at Hangman's rationale. “Jake- you flew the mission-"

"I didn't. I was just a dick to everyone and compromised the team.”

She shook her head, "You saved Bradley and Mav, you got a confirmed kill, you saved the day-"

"And I was almost too late, the missile... I-" he trailed off, his face contorting with emotions before he was able to pull the Hangman mask back on. Jake steeled his features, “look I don't need your concern alright? Go back to the others, both of you. I'm fine-"

"Jake-" Javy argued reaching forward and gripping his best friend's arm. Jake gave it a second before he shook of the touch, "Leave me alone, I mean it."

TO BE CONTINUED: (Maybe?)

[ihatehannibal]

Everything is so fucking shitty lately, I lied through my teeth to my psychiatrist bc I don't want him to blame it on me reducing my SSRI dose & insist I stabilize again. it's bc my friends are all so...completely ambivalent about me I guess? like ok there's my best friend, who I've been long distance with since the we met online ten years ago but who I've never FELT this distant from in all that time. it's been like this for a year, since she moved to Japan, but again it's not like she lived close to me before, she's Canadian. I don't even know who's fault it is but we don't talk like we did before. It's probably her fucking boyfriend giving her the emotional support that I used to give her. She doesn't rly need me anymore. I don't want it to end I really thought we were platonic soulmates and I thought we'd be 80 together still best friends. Maybe that's just me being naive. This is how it goes with friendships for normal women isn't it, they eventually find a partner & then suddenly you're no longer #1 for them. You can't compare

Then there's my second best friend, who IS local & who I've known for 14 years...since we were 14 and starting high school. I've known her as long as I didn't know her. and yet she has let me down more times than I can count & I'm sure I've let her down the same. Every time I try to talk to her about what's going on I just end up feeling like shit bc she tells me I'm triggering her or whatever. Ok. Like she rly said "I'm not the sort of person who can hear this stuff & go on my merry way" I'm sorry I said like four sentences about what happened with the guy w/the gun but how the fuck do you think I feel having to LIVE this shit firsthand??? Pop quiz do I fucking sound like I'm going on my merry way about it or do I sound traumatized???? I feel emotionally distant from her too & don't even know if I want to keep being friends but I'm a coward so I'll probably just let it fade rather than making a clean break.

Then there's my third & final friend, who I've known the longest but who I only recently reconnected with. She's fun to hang out with but that's only when she doesn't flake & leave me on read for a month, which she does so consistently that I'm ready to just stop trying.

It sucks seeing my sister with all these super strong bulletproof friendships, both local & abroad, that she formed in primary school & more in college (years that I entirely wasted being a depressed shut in) & are still going strong. She's always going out for drinks with them or watching movies on FaceTime & I'm here alone in my room binge eating & watching fucking greys anatomy of all things wondering if I will ever have a successful life with a friend group I can count on & knowing deep down that the answer is no.

I feel like I don't even ask for much. Like yes I want to be a famous writer ideally but I think I'd be happy just writing my stuff for a niche audience & having a bunch of fucking friends to do things & go places with. I'm not even looking forward to my Japan trip anymore bc my best friend isnt even excited to see me for the first time in 5 yrs & I probably can't save up enough anyways due to having to pay the mortgage on this fucking house the whole summer which was when I had the most work. Now I'm gonna be lucky to get two days a week & have only Saturday ON shift guaranteed. I couldn't save up anything when I had the chance so now I'm screwed

Oh and my room is a fucking stye again. A real depression den. Kratom powder & empty junk food wrappers & dirty clothes all over the floor & bed. Unreal how I keep letting it get this bad repeatedly

[heartshattering]

I feel like I've messed my health up and there's no going back.

Yes, I took NSAIDs to deal with chronic headaches and migraines, TMJ pain, endometriosis cramps, and back pain, because 1 - a previous doctor who didn't want to give me anything else for the pain told me it was fine, 2 - I stopped being able to go to physical therapy, and 3 - I was balancing trying to graduate while being the caregiver of my terminally ill grandma in her last stages of life and didn't have time to practice other pain relief techniques.

Yes, I eat basically every food on those "Top Worst Foods for Digestive Issues" lists, because I don't have time to make a special meal every time I'm hungry while I'm taking care of my mom. Yeah, eating greasy chips and double stuffed Oreos and chocolate and other things I don't have to cook isn't good for me and I know I have trigger foods and should be following one of those low FODMAP diets and spend time meal-planning or whatever but I feel like I can't get my life in order. I struggle so hard to stay on top of other things, I don't want to obsess over every single thing I eat and have to cook 3 special meals a day for myself every day.

Yes, I overdo it with caffeine. It's a shitty dependency I've had for a long time which led me to having to see a pediatric cardiologist and get prescribed heart meds since before I was even in high school. I've been hospitalized for heart arrhythmias in my 20s and I still take too much caffeine because I'm always tired, sick, can't focus, and the doctor told me I couldn't take stimulant medication for ADHD because of my history of heart issues. Add on top of that the fact I have two parents from the "We don't believe in ADHD, young people just need to focus better" generation. So I fuck myself up with massive amounts of caffeine instead because that totally makes sense. And (surprise surprise) caffeine is another thing you aren't supposed to take when you have IBS (and almost every other health issue I have). But I do it anyway.

Going on sleep meds wasn't ideal. I have stopped other ones before and I'm weaning off my current one. But doctors still blame me for having taken them in the first place, don't see how much effort I put into gradually trying to sleep more naturally again, and just assume the worst from me and say I'm doing reckless shit like drinking alcohol while on sleep meds or driving after taking them (I don't do either of those things, on or off meds, but especially not on them). As soon as doctors find out about my home life and things like my mom being paralyzed and the fact I lost four of my family members in one year, they automatically think I'm abusing the sleep meds and lecture me on stuff like "Doing that isn't going to fix your grief/depression :/" and don't understand how difficult sleeping while dealing with severe OCD phobias and compulsions that get worse at nighttime is.

I stay up late because I can hardly get any work done during the daytime. I can only follow a sleep routine for so long until I run into a night where I have to catch up with my work because my aunt randomly stayed for a week, or my mom had an emergency, or whatever else. Same used to happen when I was a student taking care of my grandma, too. I suck at managing my time and I'm constantly overwhelmed, I feel like at any second I'm going to mess everything up and disappoint everyone.

I know I haven't been great to myself and that I have all sorts of habits that haven't been ideal but it's just been so hard to get help. I was made to leave the local psychiatric center because my problems were considered "too severe" for them to handle. It feels like no one wants to deal with me and that they just see me as a lost cause even though I'm trying. Really, I am trying. It's just so hard and I feel like too much of a mess all the time.

[deepforestsong]

Calm - Daily Jay. January 10 II.

I usually meditate first thing in the morning. It helps set my mindfulness for the day and adjusts my mood a bit since I usually wake up a little sore which can be depressing. The Daily Jay is one of three 'daily calm' options, each about ten minutes, but Jay likes to keep his to about 7 minutes or so. He is the latest addition to the Calm team and when he showed up I didn't know anything about him, but I liked his format right away: some deep breathing to start, followed by his topic, usually personal growth and life coach focused mostly rooted in his time as a hindu monk living in an ashram in India. Originally from the UK, his voice is pleasant and he seems like a genuinely nice person. I've listened to quite a few of his sessions in the past year but the one on tap for this morning was like listening to him describe the root of my struggles in my early and young adult life. Struggles whose ghosts still haunt me although I'm trying to rid myself of them before I die.

Jay talks about playing sports as a kid and wanting his dad to be at every event because he longed for his dad's approval. I can relate to this. Jay goes on to talk about our need for the approval of others, especially our parents, which is perfectly normal, and what happens when we don't have that and go in search of it in different place with different people. This is a dangerous and often unsatisfying way to live because then our wellbeing is dependent on other people and their emotions. Don't I know it. Of course I didn't realize what I was doing in my twenties but when I look back I was totally seeking out pseudo fathers. Fathers who would give me their time and approval. From an early age my dad would sometimes have me catch a ride to my little league games with a neighbor father and son. I think at the time I thought to myself it was because I wasn't very good at baseball. That first little league year I didn't get a single hit. I'd often just play a couple of innings and so when my dad did come he didn't exactly see me play much, so who could blame him for not wanting to see his son suck at the plate! Even at a young age I could understand or at least rationalize the absence this way. I do remember liking when he did come because I did make a few good catches in the field and thought this would make my dad proud. I could catch the ball in left field, as I did play a fair amount of catch with my dad growing up in the school yard behind our house, but I needed a lot of help at the plate. I still remember our last game that dismal season (we were 4-17) and how hard I tried to get a hit. I swung the shit out of that bat to no avail! If there were batting cages to help struggling hitters like me in 1975, I was a stranger to them and did not know of their existence. Given how shitty our team was, you'd think if there were batting cages we would have held team practices there!

The theme of absence would continue through my junior and senior high school years. When I was 12 my dad started his own business with my uncle and basically disappeared from my life for the next x number of years, as did our family vacations, dinners, etc... I don't remember caring that much at the time, however. I was self sufficient in those years. Paper route at age 13, first part time job at 15 and a busy life with my two best friends between school and work. Maybe I felt like I didn't care because I was an only child and usually had to rely on myself for amusement anyway? Not sure. I played three and half years of tennis in high school and it was the only sport I lettered in. I won a silver medal for second place at JV finals the year I was sixteen. My parents absence continued however, as neither watched me play a single match in those years. I didn't blame my mom much at the time because she had been through some serious health issues and I rationalized my dad being away in that he was working all the time and this was for the good for our family. If you had asked my late teen self if I needed my dad, I would have answered nope, all was well as is.

And yet, an objective outsider would probably call bullshit since I had developed a father to son type of relationship with my good friend's Jon's dad, and would continue to do so throughout my twenties. The need for acceptance and validation only grew more intense in my twenties given I married young and pretty badly failed at being married, which brought out a lot of criticism from my dad. Criticism in many respects is the opposite of approval. Some of it is valid, but when you don't have some form of approval to balance out the criticism, regardless of how valid it might be, then you are set up for a pretty painful collision with unhealthy neediness co-dependence. We all need love, and we all go in search for it when it doesn't begin at home when we are young. Approval is a part of the love and self esteem package. It's essential and it wasn't until some of these pseudo father relationship began failing that I started to realize that I was in search of something as an adult that I needed to find in myself first given my childhood was now in the past. As an adult, approval has to start with ourselves. I think it's easier if you have it growing up from the people that matter most to a young developing mind, parents, grandparents, but at some point you have to realize it begins with you in adulthood. This was the central point of the Daily Jay today and it really resonated with me. I'm a middle aged man with terrible self-esteem and I carry around way more self hatred than I would like. Meditations like the one today remind me where I need to start to begin to change all of that hate into self love. I can't change my childhood, or my parents, or my own mistakes as a younger person, but I can change how I think of myself as I do my best to move forward.

[asterlark]

ok. samwell college of music au. i wrote all four years let's go babey

eric bittle is this lovely southern tenor (sounds kinda like mitch grassi or ben j pierce) who posts covers (& sometimes originals, but always with neutral or no pronouns because he can't post anything that says he or him ☹) on his youtube channel and has major stage fright but is very talented; he also plays ukulele

he got into samwell college of music on a voice scholarship and his dad doesn’t exactly approve but eric was never the 6′2″ masculine football player he wanted anyway so why not go for his dreams

he auditions for the very competitive samwell men’s contemporary chorus (there’s like 20 choirs; chamber choir, jazz choir, a cappella groups (lax bros do a cappella), combined choirs, etc- smcc does contemporary pop/rock music) and while he’s very very nervous and shaky as he auditions, directors hall & murray see a lot of potential in him (with major grumbling from student director jack)

(the rest of this ridiculously long au under the cut)

the group is small, for a chorus, because the point of the group is not a wall of sound but a focus on all of the very talented guys’ voices coming together in these gorgeous harmonies and basically they’re like one of the best choruses on campus and all the male singers want in

so there’s jack zimmermann, who of course eric knows because everyone knows who he is, he’s the son of bob and alicia zimmermann, both incredibly talented and famous musicians, and basically those genes were in his favor because he’s mega fucking talented

(jack was supposed to sign a recording contract to be in a band with his best friend kent parson when he was 17 but something happened between them and the pressure was too much and jack overdosed on something- there’s so many rumors no one knows what’s real- and kent signed solo in LA & went on to win grammys for his albums about a mysterious ex and jack disappeared for a few years to be a counselor at a music camp and reappears at samwell, knocking everyone’s socks off again like he’d never left, except with a renewed vigor and intenseness that freaks everyone out)

jack is a contemporary writing & production major, freaky talented and sings like a modern day frank sinatra, and he plays like 20 instruments and can read music like breathing air and writes songs like if he stopped he’d die; his music is folksy and mournful and he plays all the instruments on his tracks himself- guitar, piano, strings, drums- it sounds like a full band but nope. just jack. he’s intense

“we all get nicknames in this choir,” justin informs eric on his first day, “we’re those kinda guys.” so he’s bitty, which he finds vaguely offensive (bc he’s not that short!) but still cute, & the rest of the group is introduced to him:

“shitty” knight (voice like colyer) is a musical education major and an enigma of a singer with this awesome, earthy, raspy voice that’s really interesting to listen to and a very.... unique style & look; he writes cheesy but shockingly good raps about social justice topics and he will sing-lecture you if you’ve said something offensive (he also plays banjo)

justin “ransom” oluransi is a music business & management major with an angelic voice you can’t help but listen to; he’s sultry and has an incredible range and does runs like nobody’s business (with a voice like daniel caesar or leslie odom jr UGH)

adam “holster” birkholtz is a voice performance major, wants to be on broadway and it’s all he ever goddamn talks about basically, he’s a belter and has a lot of charisma and starpower and he’ll charm the pants off of you within one note; can also play piano and irritates everyone constantly because his regular volume is like a level 11 (voice like the frontman of my brothers and i combined w/ x ambassadors lead singer)

larissa “lardo” duan is at the local art institute because performing arts is not her jam and she’d much rather paint; she’s a barista at annie’s and supervises open mic nights and keeps the annoying choir dudes from driving away all her patrons

“i’m not even in your dumbass choir,” she says when the group gave her her nickname. holster just told her that she was an honorary member and then started sing-shouting a song at her about how good she is

bitty’s first year is hard because he’s talented and he works hard but he shies away when anyone asks him to sing outside the group and like, he can sing to a camera by himself but being on a stage with everyone looking at you and the sole responsibility of the song on your shoulders is terrifying and no thanks

jack does not. understand this. he’s been performing practically since he came out of the womb and he doesn’t really get performance nerves (what he gets is anxiety about how he did after he gets off stage that follows him home and makes it so he can’t sleep) - so he bothers bitty about it constantly like “you just need practice, you just have to sing by yourself a lot and then you’ll get over it” which like.... that’s true but it’s also hella scary and bitty’s like “no thanks!!!!”

but jack’s annoying and intense so he makes bitty do open mic with him every saturday night and it’s going okay and bitty loves his choir and loves his school and these new friends he’s making and he finally feels comfortable enough to come out to them during his second term

then during their spring choral showcase at the end of his freshman year bitty has a solo and he’s worked really hard on it and he’s feeling good- okay he’s completely freaked out but he’s trying to feel good- but when he gets up on stage there’s so many people and the stage lights are so hot on his face and he flips out a little and maybe he passes out from anxiety and stress right on stage and it’s terrible and he’s so embarrassed and ashamed that he ruined their set at the showcase

of course jack blames himself because “we shouldn’t have given you a solo before you were ready, i misjudged it, i’m sorry” - and they all feel kinda bad bc holy fuck they didn’t know his stage fright was that bad like they didn’t know someone could pass out just by being anxious to sing

he practices all the time over the summer and goes to his local open mic at jack’s insistence and it actually helps a lot because instead of a sea of strangers judging him it’s a bunch of people he knows and they’re all smiling at him and when he finishes his song they cheer for him and it boosts his self-confidence a lot

his sophomore year they have three new members- chris ”chowder” chow (voice like ieuan), an excitable music education major with impressive rapping skills, derek "nursey" nurse (frank ocean or leon bridges type), a songwriting major who can also play violin and guitar, and will ”dex” poindexter (like tom west), a production & engineering major who tried out with chowder bc he needed moral support and didn't expect to get in but impressed the directors with his voice

the year’s going pretty good, bitty’s still pretty scared of singing alone but more confident now and the open mic nights with jack haven’t stopped, so he’s getting better. and one night they’re hanging out at annie’s after closing waiting for lardo to be done so they can walk her home, and bitty suggests that jack sing with him one of these nights, and jack says he doesn’t know any of bitty’s songs and bitty says they can write one together half jokingly but then jack is like “yes.” with that Intense Look

SO they get together a couple days later in jack’s room at the house they all live in together (bitty moved in at the beginning of the year after previous smcc member john johnson called him- how’d he get his number?- and told him he could take his room if he wanted), jack with his guitar and bitty with his ukulele, and it’s a little awkward until bitty says jack should play him one of his songs

and, okay, he doesn’t really know what to expect because the only music jack ever released to the public was that one single he did with kent parson when they were 17 so bitty doesn’t even know if he has anything to play him, but he does- he starts playing these soft, sad notes on the guitar and opens his mouth and sings about being lonely and scared and unsure, about false starts and shaky ground and not knowing where you stand with someone, about expectations and lying awake at night and wishing so hard you were someone else, and bitty watches him sing and just kind of... realizes he’s head over heels for this boy and internally Freaks Out a little

he tries to put that aside and they start to write this song, at first it’s weird because jack’s like “all your songs are love songs i can’t really relate to happy love songs” and bitty’s like “listen... i’ve never even had a boyfriend i just write a bunch of sappy love stuff because it’s not about me it’s about whoever’s listening to it, they’re gonna project their own experiences on my music anyway so it doesn’t matter if it’s my real life or not” and jack’s like “alright while fake af that’s smart and i respect you” (what bitty doesn't say is that he writes about what he really wants which is to fall in love & be in a happy relationship)

they say they’re just gonna write this kinda vague sad song but they both secretly write lines about their actual lives so it ends up being really personal and real and raw for the both of them

they sing the song at open mic that saturday and the crowd at annie’s is never that big but they’ve never got a standing ovation here before, and some girl shouts “MAKE AN ALBUM” (it may or may not be lardo) and they both blush furiously and bitty’s like “... that was really nice, jack” and jack’s like “... yeah it was good good job you’re really getting some confidence out there nice work” (bitty: “THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT AAAAH”)

around this time jack’s really thinking about what he’s gonna do when he’s done at samwell, talking with his parents and his agent and looking into different record companies and deciding if he wants to sign with anyone or possibly start his own company- the head of a small company called falcon records in rhode island has been talking to him a lot, and jack talks to bitty about how he thinks it’d be nice to start small, and the record exec georgia and the producer marty had both been really nice and welcoming, and bitty’s so happy for him but also just... sad that he won’t be around jack every day after he graduates

THEN at a haus party celebrating their win of a local choral competition, who shows up but none other than pop star kent parson to Ruin The Fun

bitty sees the way jack pales when kent walks in, notices them disappear upstairs together and feels a little sick worrying about jack but chalks it up to the highly alcoholic concoction shitty and lardo had cooked up but nonetheless decides he’s sick of the party and goes up to his room and hears.... a little too much

and YIKES he’s standing right there and kent parson, pop star, two-time grammy winner, is looking a little rumpled and staring right at him and he puts his hat on and clears his throat and snaps at jack- “hey. well. call me if you reconsider. but good luck with rhode island. ...i’m sure that’ll make your parents proud.” and jack’s shaking, and bitty doesn’t know what to do but jack goes back into his room and bitty’s just kind of standing there like What The Fuck

so.... he kind of stews over winter break but tries not to think about it too much and he and jack text a bit and jack tells him to practice and bitty’s like “oh, you” and jack’s like “im serious” and bitty’s like “>:( it’s christmas”

spring semester starts and they're doing well in competitions and they go to semifinals and then finals for a prestigious collegiate choir competition and the pressure is mounting but they all are so optimistic and really feel like they're on the same page and bitty’s confidence is better than ever and then.... they don't win

jack especially takes it very hard, but then he also has signing to worry about, which everyone helps him with and he decides to sign with falcon records and start work on an album after graduation

speaking of graduation, shitty and jack graduate and it's hard for them but harder for bitty who feels like he's losing jack in a way, he knows how intense jack gets when he's making music and it doesn't feel like he'll have any time for bitty anymore so when they say goodbye bitty goes back to the haus and listens to his and jack's song and just cries

but, like in canon, dadbob has words of wisdom to impart and jack has an "oh" moment and races across campus to kiss bitty

they get together and the next few months are spent with jack working nonstop on his album (which tbh, he'd had many of the songs written already so it's mostly recording and producing) and texting bitty constantly and coming to visit him and playing him demos of all the songs

jack also asks bitty if they can record the song they wrote together & have it as a bonus track on his album & bitty says of course, so when jack visits they set up an impromptu studio and record vocals in the guest bedroom and this deeply personal song they wrote before they were ever together means so much more to them now

and bitty is so happy but so scared and sad too because jack is playing him these songs telling him "they're all for you bits, & a lot of them are about you" and he just doesn't know how he's going to keep all this love inside even though it feels like jack's career is at stake

he tries to shove it down and stay strong though, especially since he's now an upperclassman and they're taking on new members- connor "whiskey" whisk (voice like finneas or the male singer in valley), a music business/ management major who seems to hate bitty's guts and tony "tango" tangredi (like chaz cardigan), a jazz composition major who astounds everybody with his endless questions but also his ridiculously impressive composition skills & naturally perfect pitch (he can also play saxophone??)

i want ford in this au so fuck it she is a composition major with dreams to write scores for musicals and she stars training as a barista at annie's (aka training to corral the smcc)

the pressure of it all proves to be a lot and bitty and jack have their hi, honey moment where bitty's like i can't be this deep in the closet!!! and so they tell the smcc and also jack's label that they're together and that eases things a bit

jack's album comes out to much critical acclaim and shouting in the groupchat ("#1 ON ITUNES BRAHHHHH!!!!!!!!") and several months later, when smcc has already been eliminated from choral competition in an earlier round, jack is nominated for SEVERAL grammys including best album, song of the year, and best new artist

when the time comes he takes his parents and bitty on the red carpet which, everyone keeps being like "who are you here with jack?" and he's like "my family and my good friend :)" and yes it is awkward

jack wins... all three awards. it's the comeback everyone is stoked to see and when his third win is announced, he and bitty are so elated that they kiss before he goes to accept the award

his speech is basically just "um... wow. thank you. i just kissed my boyfriend on live tv. this is amazing and i'm so humbled. i'd like to thank my boyfriend and georgia and marty and my parents and my friends and my boyfriend"

obviously the press has a FIELD DAY with this but bitty & jack are honestly vibing and so happy that it doesn't matter untiiiillll bitty's mom calls and he has to tell her "mama i'm gay and i'm going on tour with jack this summer okloveyoubye"

the last few months of bitty's junior year pass quickly and he's voted student director which is a huge honor considering how much he struggled with stage fright and confidence & how he'll now be stepping into ransom & holster's shoes

r&h and lardo all graduate (the smcc basically crashes the art school graduation and all scream when lardo gets her diploma lmao), which is a bittersweet occasion and they all do a bit of tearing up

that summer bitty goes on tour across the u.s. & canada with jack and his touring band (snowy is a bassist, tater is a drummer and poots does backing guitar, he also brings nursey to play violin on a few songs) as well as georgia who's there to manage logistics

and tour is so fun & chaotic with many bi and rainbow flags in the audience that end up thrown on stage and draped around jack's neck and they spend so many nights in the bus drinking and laughing and fooling around on the guitars and bitty's uke and exploring new cities bitty has never been to before and it's the freest bitty has felt in a long time

summer ends though, and jack leaves for the uk/europe leg of the tour, and with the new school year brings a few new members- river "bully" bullard (voice like gregory alan isakov), a music therapy major who draws his own cover art for his songs, lukas "louis" landmann (like jr jr), an electronic production and design major with a penchant for EDM, and johnathan "hops" hopper (like keiynan lonsdale), a film scoring major who wants to write music for movies and video games

bitty meets and befriends some of the other student directors- shruti, sd of the women’s contemporary chorus; sharon, sd of the chamber choir; and edgar, sd of jazz ensemble (even chad l., sd of the all-male a cappella group)

senior year passes similarly to the comic; coach visits and sees one of bitty’s competitions, jack comes to madison for christmas, smcc does well in competition and goes to regionals etc

however… bitty keeps putting off and putting off gathering the songs for his senior recital

he has a hard time doing that because he’s so focused on the group and making sure they’re performing well and as they advance in competition, everything else starts to fall away

eventually the rest of the smcc has to lock away his uke and change his youtube password and FORCE him to choose songs for it and start preparing because he cannot graduate without doing this recital and doing well on it

he chooses (of course) a beyonce song, a few of his own songs, an ellie goulding song, and an adele song

with all that his breath hitches and his hands shake before he goes on stage, he does really well and his voice instructor prof atley tears up a little in the audience as does his mom

meanwhile smcc goes to semifinals, then finals, of the national collegiate choral competition they participate in

and i imagine bitty faces somewhat less homophobia in this au because i mean, he’s in the performing arts, but i think it’s still there and he also faces a good amount of classism from richer students and performers who think they’re better because they had the resources and money to be performing professionally from a very young age, and he has been practicing via filming himself on a shitty camcorder and posting it to youtube

but they still get there! and the national finals are fucking HUGE and a big deal and a little overwhelming

bitty’s stage fright is Present because this is the biggest stage and the biggest stakes he's ever had and he has a big solo in one of their songs so if he fucks up, he fucks up a national championship for his whole group and school

luckily though, when he steps on the stage with his best friends and sees his boyfriend and family and smcc alums in the audience and they perform their first song, a high-energy pop medley that always gets the crowd going, everything seems to melt away and it's just him living in this moment and singing his heart out

when it gets to the next song and his solo, he forgets to be nervous and belts it out, getting screams of approval from the audience when he finishes

(dex and nursey do have a duet together that they had to practice for many long nights in the practice rooms alone but that's neither here nor there)

their time on stage seems to last both hours and no time at all and then they're done, the crowd gives them a standing ovation and it's at least 30% r&h & shitty's hooting and hollering and jack's enthusiastic clapping that makes bitty & the others beam with pride

then it's just waiting, giddy and nervous beyond belief in their green room, for the judging to be over

after what feels like forever they're back on stage, arms linked together waiting and hoping for their name to be called and it is, they win and it feels like years have built up to this moment, and bitty tears up because years ago when he was fainting from anxiety at having to perform in front of people he never could've imagined that he'd do this, that he'd be the student director that led them to a championship

they get the trophy and a ridiculous amount of flowers from their loved ones and they all are just in giddy disbelief that this is happening, they're national champs!!! they are the best choir boys in the nation!!

they come home and the rest of the school year passes by so quickly that it's very suddenly graduation and bitty can't believe his college career at samwell is over 😢

(he and ollie and wicky take pictures together, o&w talk about how excited they are to devote full time attention to their band & wedding planning and bitty's just like wait you're gay??)

bitty got plenty of offers from record companies but he likes his freedom of creativity and he has a built in fanbase from doing youtube all these years so he decides to make an album independently (jack helps him produce & master it 🥰)

when bitty's album comes out about a year later, full of bops about being gay and in love and having struggled but come out the other side more confident than ever, it doesn't get any grammy nominations- and he didn't expect or need that.

what it does do is it resonates. it makes the rounds in youtube and queer internet circles; people his age reach out to him saying this is the music they wish they had as a kid and kids reach out to him saying he's a role model and they're so glad to have his music to listen to. his album is written about as an underrated gem that shines with queer brilliance and is sure to start a party when it comes on.

his parents may not fully understand the road he's chosen for himself but they're still so proud and promote the album as hard as any of his loyal fans (especially the one country-inspired song on the album that he wrote and dedicated to them).

and jack, jack who saw this album from its infancy to its release date, who took the film photo that ended up being the album cover, who worked with bitty to make sure his vision was realized exactly how he wanted it to be, is proud beyond words.

jack starts using his semi-abandoned twitter again to tweet "stream [album name]" every day and bitty retweets them sometimes, with just a "this boy. ❤"

and they're happy. they're good. they have come so far and they are reaping the rewards of all the hard work they put in to make the music that they truly love.

the end :)

[lexosaurus]

Invisobang: Morge pt 2

It was a beautiful day outside. The birds were singing, the flowers were blooming...a corpse was found in the woods.

Or, Amity Park's local cadaver dog trainer was walking her dog in the woods when they discovered a little surprise waiting for them six feet under.

Pairings: none WC: 9886 read on: [ao3] part 2 of 2, read: [part 1]

---

some amazing accompanying art by @ghostkiin

---

“It’s like you’re not even trying!” Plasmius barked, throwing Danny an exaggerated yawn while blocking the ectoblasts thrown his way. “Really, Daniel, you were always woefully incapable compared to me, but this is just abysmal, even for you.”

Danny gritted his teeth and glared back, allowing his glowing eyes to glare to toxic levels. Plasmius picked the wrong week to try to steal blueprints from Fentonworks.

“What, are you going to hit me with a little ectoblast again?”

“Oh I’ll show you an ectoblast,” Danny growled, charging ectoplasm in his palms so concentrated that the green glowed a fierce white. He flung his hands out, releasing the energy with a venomous, “eat shit, Fruitloop!”

But just like the rest of his life, his attack was uncontrolled, wild. It flew several feet to Vlad’s side, nailing a road sign and burning it like acid until there was nothing left.

Plasmius grinned at its charred remains. “Was that supposed to hit me? My, Daniel, I’m quaking in my boots!”

Danny felt his aura increase.

This week had already been shitty enough, even without Vlad’s help. He felt like his brain was trapped in a hailstorm, with constant unavoidable attacks pelting him from all sides. His core was a ball of energy and anxiety, not allowing him to sleep or eat or even breathe without the constant fear about his body and how it was being messed with and he needed to protect it and how he’d failed so miserably at protecting it and now his secret was going to be revealed and he was screwed.

“Well? I’m waiting! Tick tock, Little Badger!”

Ancients, Vlad was such an asshole.

“Shut UP!” Danny yelled, releasing his ghostly wail.

Just as a pink blast slapped him across the face, sending him flying into a brick building.

Plasmius tisked, flying nonchalantly towards him. “We can’t have you using that particular power, now can we? Not while you’re so obviously in control of yourself.”

“Fuck off.”

The older ghost smirked and brushed dust off his red and white cape. “Teenagers. Always so hormonal. What, did a girl at school reject you?”

“What are you talking about?” Danny launched himself back in the air and powered an ice blast. “You know what? Don’t answer that. I don’t care what you have to say.”

“No, I’m sure you don’t,” Vlad said, releasing a plasmius blast just before Danny released his own. The pink blast travelled across the air like a bullet, punching Danny in the gut and sending him crashing back into the building.

Meanwhile, Danny’s ice blast flew a foot above Vlad’s head, webbing itself into a tree and coating the branches with thick icicles.

Danny tried to push himself back onto his shaky feet, only to be pushed back down yet again by another plasmius blast.

Brick tumbled onto his head, coating his vision with dust. His body ached, and his neck was sore from the whiplash.

From his clouded vision, a glowing white figure with red eyes and gaudy horn-like spikes for hair hovered closer to him.

“My, my. You really are out of sorts today,” Plasmius said. “This is almost too easy. I could just take you out right here and go take your parents’ entire spectre speeder straight from your lab.

“What do you even need a spectre speeder for? You can fly,” Danny asked, rubbing a lump from his skull.

“A simple minded teenager such as yourself couldn’t possibly understand my reasons.”

Anger flared through Danny. He gripped some wreckage next to him and forced himself back onto his feet. His legs shook and he felt something wet drip down his calf.

Great, he was bleeding. Just add that to the list of reasons as to why this week was the worst.

“Shut up. I won’t let you do that.”

“Oh?” Plasmius powered a pink blast in each hand. “Then prove it.”

Danny tried, but with each attempted blast, kick, or punch, it seemed like Plasmius was one step ahead of him.

And worse, it felt like he was reveling in the power trip.

A burn here, a kick there—everywhere Danny looked, there was Vlad, glowing fist at the ready. It reminded him of the first time he’d encountered Vlad, back at the mansion. Having Vlad so openly destroy him had been shameful.

Danny collapsed onto the pavement, heaving, his entire body searing in pain.

Plasmius paused to survey him up and down with suspicious eyes. Finally, just as Danny was one breath away from turning invisible out of sheer discomfort, did the ghost finally open his mouth. “Alright, spit it out.”

Anxiety gripped Danny’s stomach. “What are you talking about?”

“Something’s troubling you enough to make you pathetically weak. It’s honestly embarrassing. I can’t stand here watching my future ward make a fool of himself any longer.”

“I’m not moving in with you, creep,” Danny bit back.

“That’s what you think. No matter, tell your dear old uncle what’s troubling you.”

“Go play in traffic.”

Plasmius’ eyes narrowed. “I’d nearly forgotten what a brat you are. Now tell me before I take methods into my own hands.”

Danny sighed, and attempted to stand. But the moment his foot touched the ground, a sharp pain shot up his shin. He hissed, and lowered himself back to the pavement.

“Well? I don’t have all day.”

“It’s nothing,” Danny grumbled, glaring at the pavement. He felt small under Plasmius’ critical gaze. “Nothing at all.”

“It’s obviously something,” Plasmius said, landing in front of Danny. “Now quit wasting my time and tell me what it is before I—”

“Then why don’t you leave? If I’m just wasting your precious time, then go home! It’s not like you even care about me anyways.”

Vlad leaned in, flaring his aura. “In case it’s not clear to your simple teenage brain, your actions represent the both of us. You fuck up, I have to pay the consequences.”

“Who says this is even about ghost stuff?” Danny hissed. “For all you know, I got in a fight with Jazz.”

Vlad scoffed. “Do you seriously believe me to be that stupid? Of course it’s about your identity! Why else would your core be acting so wildly if its Obsession weren’t at stake?”

Danny flinched.

“You did something, and I want to know what it is so I can determine if I need to run damage control on you or not before you blow this for all of us.”

“It’s...” Danny felt his aura pull back. “It’s about...you know…”

“I can assure you I do not know.”

“I...I might have…the police may have found...it…’

Plasmius sighed and rubbed his forehead with his hand. “What did they find?”

“My—my, uh...body?”

“You mean your identity?” Plasmius’ eyes widened.

“Not exactly.” Danny felt his face burn. “You know...the body I left when I...after the accident.”

Plasmius reacted instantly. He shot up, glancing around, before grabbing Danny and pulling him through a hastily erected portal.

Danny felt his body squeeze through the portal and then seconds later, he was in Vlad’s study. The ghost threw Danny on his loveseat and heightened his aura. His brows creased, and his eyes glowed a dangerous shade of red. “What exactly do you mean when you say the police found your deceased body? How did this happen? What the hell did you do?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Danny cried indignantly. “They found it with their freakish police dog! I swear I buried it deep in the ground.”

“Well not deep enough, apparently!” Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Of all the stupid, childish things you could do!”

“It wasn’t my fault!”

Vlad ripped his hands away from his face, his eyes snapping back to Danny. He took a step closer to the teen, his eyes narrowing until a red glow peaked underneath. “Then whose fault would it be exactly, hmm? What, is this yet another piece of blame you’re going to cast upon my shoulders? Me, the halfa who has managed to keep this a well kept secret for over twenty years when you apparently can’t even manage to keep it to yourself for one?”

Danny let his own ghostly strength shine through his eyes. “Quit acting like I invited them all over. I didn’t, it was a coincidence. A mistake.”

“Oh, goodness me!” Vlad let out a sardonic laugh. “I guess when the Ghost Investigative Ward appear at my doorstep in a month, I’ll just tell them it was all a mistake. That’s sure to turn them right around!”

“Shut up.”

“No I will not.” Vlad’s face set back into a scowl. “You have proven yourself to be a liability again and again, and every single time it’s me who has to clean up your little messes. Messes that you don’t seem to realize could be the end of our kind!”

Anxiety shot through Danny’s stomach. He gripped the arm rests of the chair, squeezing them so tightly he heard the faint sounds of cracking in the wood.

“And now you mean to tell me that the police have your rotting, ectoplasm-drenched inhuman corpse in their possession?” Vlad yelled. “And you’re really trying to argue with me that it was just a simple mistake?”

Danny’s shaking hand slipped, tearing off a chunk of the armchair. It clattering to the floor. “I don’t—I didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t…”

Vlad closed his eyes, but Danny could still see the wisps of red shimmering through his eyelids. “No, of course you didn’t. But that doesn’t mean we can let them keep it.”

“I’ve tried.” His voice cracked. “I keep trying to convince them to stop, but they won’t—”

“What, you actually thought they’d listen to you? A ghost? My boy, I know you were dim, but this is truly extraordinary.”

Danny sniffed, keeping his head down. He felt like an egg boiling over, the yolk just one jolt away from breaking.

“No…” Plasmius hummed. “What we need is to take it back by force.”

“We can’t, they have the whole morgue under a shield. We can get in as ghosts, and it’d look too suspicious if we showed up as humans.”

“Unfortunately, you may be right about us appearing as humans. We can’t do that. But,” Plasmius’ tone shifted, “one thing we can do is break the shield.”

Danny froze. He gazed questioningly up at the older ghost, who was facing the window with a renewed sense of determination. “Break the shield? How? We can’t touch it!”

“No, but the shield doesn’t exist on its own. It has to be generated from somewhere, doesn’t it? Do you see? We break the device, we break the shield.”

Danny wasn’t following, and he was sure his face betrayed that much.

“Listen, Little Badger. Ghosts cannot touch the shield or the device, but who says—oh I don’t know—maybe a collapsed ceiling might do the trick? Some torn cables, perhaps? After all, with no energy supply, how could it possibly generate the power necessary to produce a shield?”

Danny felt his eyes widen. Something icy settled in his gut. When he spoke, his voice was hollow. “You want to destroy the building.”

“Well I certainly wouldn’t be so crude, but perhaps a few colleagues of mine might be swayed—”

“No.” Danny stood automatically.

Vlad’s head snapped over to him. “No?”

He could feel Vlad’s confusion, and it blended with his own. Deep down, he knew he needed to stop at nothing to get his body back, but collapsing the building? Putting others in danger?

Putting his remains in danger of ruin?

What if something happened? What if a brick fell on his skull? What if a spike tore his abdomen in half?

No, he couldn’t do it. It wasn’t worth the risk.

This was wrong.

“We can’t,” Danny choked out. “You’ll hurt it.”

“I don’t think you understand, Little Badger,” Vlad hissed, leaning down.

Danny could feel the heat of his red eyes on his skull.

“With the position you’ve put us both in? You don’t get to decide what happens to your corpse now.”

“No, Vlad. I’m serious. You can’t—”

“And so am I.” Plasmius straightened, and his aura tinted to a dangerous pink. “You’ve put us at risk one time too many. Now I’m taking things into my own hands. And no amount of scary eyes is going to sway me.”

In one motion, Vlad ripped open a portal and pushed Danny through. Before he could blink, he was back in the damp alley they’d just been in.

“Good day, Danny Phantom.”

Plasmius shut the portal, and Danny was alone.

---

“Thank you for taking the time to come talk to us about this,” Mark said, opening the conference room door for the consultant before him. “This case is unfortunately a bit out of my expertise, and the lab results are even more perplexing. Hopefully you’ll be able to parse through the documents much easier than I.”

Dr. Maddie Fenton, dressed in her typical turquoise lab attire, stepped through the door and took a seat at the table. “Of course, I’m always happy to help Amity’s law enforcement protect its citizens against ghosts.”

“Well,” Mark pulled out a chair for himself, placing the manila folders against the table. “This is actually a bit more complex.”

“Oh?” Dr. Fenton reached for the folders.

“To bring you up to speed, I mentioned on the phone that we needed your assistance with a murder case involving a ghost. But there’s a bit more to it.”

She opened the folder and leafed through the files.

“The truth is the body we uncovered we believe to be Phantom’s body.”

Dr. Fenton paused, her eyebrows shooting up. She glanced up at Mark. “That’s a rather serious case. What evidence do you have to support that?”

“Well…” Mark started. “When we uncovered the body, Phantom appeared above it, and was acting rather erratically. Like a cornered animal, almost.”

“He felt threatened.”

“Right.” He nodded. “But it’s more than that. When we ran forensics on the body, we found that all our lab results were corrupted with ectoplasm. Ectoplasm that when we ran the ectosignature for, turned out to be Phantom’s.”

Dr. Fenton looked back down at the files. “That’s highly unusual.”

“Well we were hoping you’d be able to piece this all together.” Mark gestured to the files.

“I see…” Dr. Fenton’s voice trailed off. Her eyes scanned the page, hungrily soaking up each word. The silence stretched on for a few minutes as Mark awaited her opinion.

Contacting the Fentons had been something Mark had been pushing off for as long as possible. The Fentons were loud, boisterous, and not at all known for their professionalism nor tact.

But it was either they contact the Fentons or the Ghost Investigation Ward. And despite Phantom’s cold demeanor towards the detectives, Mark still had hope that perhaps he could gain the teen ghost’s trust. And to do that, the GiW could not be anywhere near the station.

Of the duo, Maddie Fenton seemed the most level-headed. And it had just been Mark’s luck that of the pair, she was the one with a doctorate in ectobiology. Which meant that it was perfectly understandable when Mark had requested that she alone come into the station to review the files.

“We’re trying to keep this on the down-low. If Phantom feels like we’re going to turn him over to the government, he’ll clam up. As it stands we’re only barely getting information out of him.”

“Well, I wouldn’t trust anything he says anyway,” she said, not looking up from the paper. “He’ll do whatever possible to keep himself safe. Ghosts are products of their Obsessions, and Phantom is no different. If he feels like this investigation is going to come in the way of him being able to feed into his Obsession, then he’ll do anything to stop that from happening. No matter who he hurts in the process.”

Mark felt a shudder creep up his spine. “Do you think he could be lying about this being his body? Maybe he could have been the one to kill this boy and is trying to cover it up?”

“Hmm…no, that doesn’t seem likely given the labs. And besides, it would be highly unusual for Phantom to be summoned to a body that wasn’t his. Although…” Dr. Fenton mused. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this before.”

“Like what?”

“Well, when an animal dies near a cluster of ambient ectoplasm, their body runs the risk of forming a ghost. However, there must be a significant final moment for the neural pathways in the brain to bond with the ectoplasm. That moment translates into an Obsession, which forms the core that the ghost then forms around. If a human dies peacefully, there’s nothing to work with. But if the human dies violently, or if they die with unfinished business, that gives the ambient ectoplasm something to charge with.”

Mark nodded politely, not seeing where this was going. This was all common knowledge for the people of Amity, and Mark had certainly seen enough of the Fentons’ public speeches to understand these basics.

“The ambient ectoplasm comes from the electrical connections in the brain, unrelated to what’s happening in the body. It’s why a human can be paralyzed from the waist-down, but still form a ghost with functioning legs. Do you see what I’m saying?”

Mark nodded, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m not seeing how this relates to Phantom specifically?”

“There’s no real reason that Phantom’s human body should have been corrupted by ectoplasm. In fact, there’s never been a case of a human body with an ectosignature embedded in its cells. It’s virtually impossible, in fact. Living cells are completely incompatible with ectoplasm.”

Mark stared down at his own copy of the reports, his mind reeling. “You’ve never seen this before?”

“Not in my twenty years in this field.”

“Do you have any idea what could have caused this?”

Dr. Fenton pursed her lips. “There’s one...it would explain a lot about him actually. Human experimentation.”

Oh.

Oh.

Shit.

“You don’t think…” Mark’s voice trailed off, his tongue incapable of finishing the sentence. To think that some sick individual would even attempt such a thing.

“It’s the only logical explanation here.” Dr. Fenton gestured at her folder. “Or at least, the only one I can piece together given this information. Phantom would have had to have died after interacting with an intense amount of ecto-technology. Technology with the power to chemically alter every cell in his living body just before finishing him off with electrocution. Of course, it’s just a theory. Only Phantom knows the truth.”

“Right.” He could hardly process what was being said. “But he won’t tell us the truth.”

“Well, I’m not surprised. Ghosts run a different social hierarchy than humans, theirs is far more simple. It’s entirely based on strength. The stronger the ghost, the better they protect their haunt, the more respect they’re given within ghost culture. If Phantom shows weakness, then the other ghosts can use that to dethrone him as the human world’s great protector.”

“But we’re not ghosts.”

“But he is.” Dr. Fenton cocked her head. “This explains other things too. Like the fact that Phantom, a relatively new ghost, is already a level seven on the ectoplasm power scale.”

“I assume that’s unusual.”

“Quite. It would have had to require an extremely intense death at the very least. But human experimentation with ectoplasm, feelling your body reject itself from the inside out, every strand of DNA being corrupted by the essence of death—that’s not an end I’d wish on my worst enemies.”

“And now we have his corpse. Phantom’s going to feel incredibly threatened. He’s bound to lash out.”

Dr. Fenton nodded gravely. “Then you better wrap this investigation up quickly, because Phantom is still a young ghost. He’s impatient, like a child. The longer you take to solve this case, the more unstable he’ll get. And I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end when he finally snaps.”

---

A dull unease panged at Danny’s core. It was calling to him, trying to goad him to his corpse.

Trouble, trouble, trouble, it seemed to whisper.

But he ignored it, just like he’d been ignoring it all this time. Because no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t get past the shields, he couldn’t get back to his corpse.

He was powerless. Alone.

Scared.

He tried to focus on his math worksheet, but the numbers blurred together and he couldn’t remember what eight times seven was. He had a calculator, but it was in his bag and he couldn’t remember what pocket he’d shoved it into, or even if he’d remembered to put it in his bag last night after staring blankly at the homework assignment for an hour without lifting his pencil even once.

No, his calculator was probably still on his desk at home.

Trouble, trouble, trouble.

The voices were louder now, and the pull was more desperate.

His throat hurt, and for a moment he was convinced his lungs were collapsing before he remembered that he’d forgotten to release the air trapped in his lungs and he couldn’t remember when he’d stopped breathing.

“Danny?” Mr. Falluca said from the front of the room. “Is everything alright?”

He commanded his head to nod, but he wasn’t sure if he succeeded. Maybe he did. He couldn’t check, he couldn’t lift his eyes from the desk.

The voices were too loud.

The dull pang wasn’t so dull anymore.

Trouble, trouble, go now, go now.

The pang was solidifying, taking shape. It was becoming sharper, more urgent.

Go now, go now, go now.

The pokes turned into pricks, threatening to rupture his organs, sending needles down the nerves in his arms and legs. A headache sparked before his eyes and his vision swam.

The voices attacked him from all angles, and fingers brushed against his skin, tugging the sleeves of his shirt towards the window, the ceiling, the wall, the door— anywhere so long as it was away from here. Outside. To the morgue.

Go to the morgue.

Ignore it, be strong. Just ignore it and it’ll go away.

Go now.

No.

Go now, go now, GO NOW.

No, he couldn’t.

The pinpricks finally morphed into one sharp, icy cold knife.

It stabbed his core.

Go now.

He stood from his chair, knocking it back.

Vaguely, he could hear the alarmed cries of his classmates, but he ignored them.

The only thing that mattered was his body. His corpse.

Protect.

A hand grabbed his arm, yanking him back, but he could feel the warmth of the human blood running under its veins and he couldn’t be bothered with human problems right now. Not when he was in danger.

He phased through the grip, and ran out of the classroom. He sprinted down the hall, tearing open the familiar looking door and transforming and taking off into the sky nearly as soon as the sun brushed his skin.

This was different than all the other times his core had tried to coax him to his corpse. Something was wrong. Really, really wrong. His body was in danger, and he needed to save it.

He heard an explosion in the distance, and he increased his speed, feeling his eyes sting as the cool air slapped against his corneas. The world blurred, but it was okay. His core was guiding him now, not his eyes. He didn’t need to see, he just needed to close off and follow his ghostly instincts.

“That’s right!” A deep voice yelled from across the way.

Danny pulled to a halt, blinking the sting from his vision.

Then a boulder flew past his body, hitting the wall of a disturbingly familiar building.

His core yelled in protest. The body was in danger. His body.

“You thought a pesky shield could keep me out? Me, Skulker, the Ghost Zone’s greatest hunter? I’ll show you!”

Ice filled his veins, freezing his aura and building in power around his hands.

Skulker hoisted a parked motorcycle from the edge of the street into the air. “Take this!” he yelled, hurling it into the air.

It was heading straight for the door. It was going to break it, it might break the window, it could damage the body.

An icicle stabbed his core, and before Danny could blink, his hands were raised and jagged blue ice was shooting from his palms, catching the motorcycle in midair and pinning it to the street.

“What is the meaning of this?” Skulker roared, whipping around. His eyes locked on Danny and his confusion melted from this face only to be replaced by a triumphant smirk. “Well hello there, ghost child.”

Danny’s palms burned an even brighter blue. “ Leave,” he hissed, the Ghost Speak slipping off his tongue like butter.

Skulker’s grin widened. “It seems I’ve touched a nerve. Fear not, child, I’m just here to procure your pelt. Well, your other pelt.”

He flashed his aura in a showcase of power that would send most ghosts running for the hills. “Leave.”

A look of contempt replaced the humor on Skulker’s face. His eyes narrowed, and his voice lowered. “I don’t take orders from you, child.”

There was a natural balancing act between his human brain and ghost core, one that ensured that neither half of him was in full control one hundred percent of the time. No matter how human he was, his core still lingered in the background, and no matter how ghost he was, his human brain still kept tabs on his movements.

But now, as Danny watched Skulker rip a slab of concrete from the ground, he felt something snap inside of him.

“Then I have no choice.”

Green overtook his vision, and Danny Fenton simply disappeared.

Time passed—or it didn’t—in swirls of blue and green. If he looked out, he could see the power released from his gloves, he could see the mix of ectoplasm and ice that he was hurling at Skulker, to protect the building, to protect his body, to protect himself from Plasmius.

That vindictive, lonely asshole.

Who was Plasmius to encroach on what was his?

There were flashing lights around him, but Danny paid them no mind. The only thing that mattered was protecting his body.

Protect his haunt.

Protect his people.

Protect.

He could feel the newly pointed teeth pinch his gums, and the ghostly wisps of his hair fizzle around him. But oddly these changes didn’t worry him, instead they made him feel safe, secure. Like a child clinging onto their blanket.

He launched another barrage of attacks at Skulker, tearing holes through his armor. Panic struck Skulker’s features, and all Danny could think of was, ‘good.’ If Skulker wanted to try to claim dominance over his body, then he would suffer tenfold.

And just before he was about to launch a blast at Skulker that was sure to disintegrate his armor, an amplified voice behind him called out, “PHANTOM!”

Danny flinched, his power leaking out of its concentrated ball.

Weak.

“Phantom, stand down!”

Not a chance.

“We have the area surrounded. Stand down or we’ll be forced to shoot.”

“Better listen to your human puppets,” Skulker said, his voice too shaken to sound mocking. “I know when I’ve been bested.”

It took everything in Danny’s power to not launch himself over to Skulker and tear off his head. “You tried to steal my body.”

“That’s a fight between you and Plasmius.”

“Don’t try to get out of this.”

“Phantom,” Detective Johnson said. “Final warning. Stand down.”

Ectoplasm surged throughout his body. “Make me.”

Multiple events happened at once. Skulker motioned to leave just as Danny raised his arms, blistering white light moments away from release. Then, pain seared through his torso.

Danny yelped, jerking his hand back and releasing the ectoblast somewhere off into the sky. He fell back and hit the ecto-shield, sending electrical warnings through his bones.

Memories of the portal, of the thousands of volts of electricity, of the feeling of his bones and muscles and tissues and cells being ripped apart and stitched back together flashed before his eyes. It was too much, all too much too soon too present. He tried blasting the portal but his gloves were splattered with green and oh no, not good, not good.

He was dying, wasn’t he?

Again.

Would he have a second body?

His vision tilted, and finally he managed to rip himself away from the shield. He collapsed onto the cement and stared up at the sky, chest heaving.

He was paralyzed. He knew he had fingers, toes, arms, legs—but they didn’t work. He couldn’t feel anything. Couldn’t fly.

He was dying.

“Phantom?” Johnson’s cautious voice sounded from somewhere off to the side. “Sit up, let’s talk through this.”

There was a pregnant pause, and then Danny finally managed to blink. The world snapped back into focus, and his surroundings came with it. He looked down at his torso to see a little hole in his side of his suit surrounded by a trickle of green.

“What—?” Danny gasped.

“I’m gonna put the gun down, okay?” Johnson said. “I just wanna talk.”

“No.” Danny slowly pushed himself up. He surveyed the damage along the walls, the falling bricks on the sidewalk, the shattered windows and bent door. “No, no, no.”

His body wasn’t safe. Not anymore.

“Phantom, come on. Work with me here.”

But he couldn’t. That detective and his partner were just human, they didn’t understand. This was his body and Vlad knew about it and was trying to take matters into his own hands no matter the cost to Danny.

This was a disaster. He shouldn��t have told Vlad anything. He was so stupid for thinking Vlad could help him. He should have known, should have known.

“Phantom.”

“No.”

The cloak of invisibility covered his body, and he shot up into the sky.

Towards the city.

He needed to end this.

---

Sarah felt the chill first.

“You have to stop,” Phantom’s voice echoed behind her.

She sighed and put down her pencil. “Phantom, I thought I explained this already. The police can’t—”

“I don’t care about the police!”

The room grew cold.

“I don’t...ugh!” Phantom floated around her desk, clutching his forehead with one hand and his chest with the other. Mark had just called her with a warning, saying that Phantom was unstable. Looking at the ghost now, Sarah had to agree.

Phantom looked awful.

Dark circles pooled under his eyes, his hair stuck up in all directions, and his face lacked the green blush that normally sat below his skin. His jumpsuit was burned and dried ectoplasm crusted around the torn edges. He looked every bit the image of someone quickly coming undone.

Except this wasn’t just some random person, this was a powerful ghost. This was someone who could easily kill anyone who wronged him.

Or who he felt wronged him.

Deep down, Sarah knew Phantom wasn’t a violent ghost. It didn’t line up with his ghostly Obsession, or the theorized one anyway. But this was his corpse they were dealing with, it was an extension of himself.

Sarah had never confronted a ghost who had lost possession of their corpse. She’d never dealt with a ghost who willingly protected the shield that kept him away from his body if only to make sure it stayed safe. She’d never seen Phantom look so rattled.

At this point, there was no telling what he was capable of.

“Phantom,” she tried cautiously. “You need to calm down.”

“No, you need to tell your buddies to call off this investigation!”

“You know I can’t do that. I have no control over the department, and even if I did, we need to follow the law.”

His eyes flashed dangerously. “Why, because I’m a ghost? Because my words mean nothing because I’m not human? I’m telling you that I don’t want to press any charges, I don’t get why that’s not good enough!”

The room grew even colder.

“We’ve been over this. Please, Phantom, sit down—”

“No!” he snapped. “I’ve been telling you guys since the beginning that this was a bad idea, that people are going to get hurt! And no, nobody listened to me because I’m a fucking ghost! And now look, the building was attacked! My body was attacked! Do you—” his voice cracked, and the glow on his eyes wobbled. He drifted closer to her. “Do you even understand? Do you get how dangerous this is? Do you understand the people you guys have pissed off? Who you’re playing with now?”

Sarah took a deep breath. Even as a human, the power Phantom was emitting was palpable. “What people? You mean the ghost who attacked the morgue?”

“Not him. He—he’s just a lacky. Just following orders.” He let out a bitter laugh, running his hand over his forehead and smearing green across his skin. “You guys have no idea, you really don’t…”

Dread crept up Sarah’s spine. If what Mark was saying was true, then this could run deeper than they thought. “Explain it to me.”

“I’m…” He glanced up, looking ill. “I’m not…normal. For a ghost, I mean. I can’t explain it. I really can’t. But the other ghosts...they consider me a liability. And now that you guys have my—my body, they’re afraid.”

“Why are they afraid?”

“Because…” His brow furrowed. “I can’t—I can’t…”

She tilted her head, watching the ghost choke on his words. “Can’t, or won’t?”

“It doesn’t matter. They’ll stop at nothing till they get my body back. They’ll kill everyone in that building if it means nobody finds out my secret.”

What secret? Sarah wanted to scream, but she held back.

“Phantom,” Sarah lowered her tone. “Are they the reason you’ve been so afraid of us finding out the truth? Have they threatened you in any way?”

“No!” He backed up in shock. “I—I mean, sort of? Listen, it’s not because of him—them, I promise. It’s more complicated than that. He’s just protecting me, you know? If my secret gets out, that would put them all in danger, but it would put me in even more danger. I wouldn’t...I’d have to leave. I’d be on the run.”

“Why?”

“It’s so messed up.”

“Then tell me.”

She already knew. She just needed him to confirm it for her.

He looked to her, his bright green eyes seemingly desperate for help. But he shook his head. “I can’t do this.”

“Wait—”

But he was already gone.

---

“I’ve never seen him look so scared,” Abrams said.

“So you think he’s right.” Crowley took a long swig of his coffee, “Course you do.”

“It makes sense,” Abrams insisted. “Why else would Phantom be so terrified of people finding the truth?”

“Oh gee, I don’t know, maybe it’s because he’s a teen who was playing with electrical equipment he wasn’t supposed to be near and even in death doesn’t want to get in trouble for it!”

“Yes but how would that explain all the ectoplasm in his DNA? That doesn’t come from just any electric shock.”

“Who knows,” Crowley said. “The Fentons have always been crackpots. Always have had ludicrous theories. Now suddenly when it’s convenient, you’re all running to their side?”

Mark rolled his eyes. “We’re not running to their side.”

“Then what do you call this?” Crowley gestured to the duo. “Sure looks like it to me.”

“You have to admit that it makes sense,” Mark said. “I mean, get real. Doesn’t any of this smell fishy to you?”

Crowley slapped his empty coffee mug on the table. “You know what smells fishy to me? The Fentons are the only known ecto-scientists in this whole damn city, the only people who have lab-grade ecto-equipment in Amity Park, and suddenly right when they were getting into some financial trouble, Phantom appears out of nowhere from a death that reeks of forced ecto-contamination. That smells fishy to me.”

Mark paused, but then shook his head. “If that were true, then why would Dr. Fenton even offer human experimentation as a possibility?”

“To gloat? Gain our trust? Test our intelligence?” Crowley threw his hands up. “Who knows? They’re crazy!”

“So you think we need to investigate them?” Mark asked.

“I’d be a damn shit detective if I didn’t. They have the means and motive to create a ghost like Phantom. It’s just like Maddie said.”

“I think he’s right,” Abrams said, nibbling on her bagel. “If this is actually a case of ecto-experimentation, then the Fentons should be on the list of suspects.”

“Finally, some common sense around here. Just about the only case of common sense these days…” Crowley grumbled.

Mark chose to ignore that comment, instead checking his phone. No notifications, damn. The entire department had been on high alert for Phantom ever since the attack on the morgue. Mark was just relieved that the new and improved ecto-guns had finally been issued that morning. If not for the updated technology, that incident likely would have ended far less smoothly.

Not that it really ended smoothly. Phantom had yet again escaped Mark’s clutches, free to run off and break into Sarah’s home.

Guilt clawed at Mark’s stomach, but he pushed it back. Phantom was a slippery ghost, one that had escaped all levels of ghost hunters from the Fentons, to the Ghost Investigation Ward. Mark knew it would take a lot more than a few words of peace and one ecto-gun to stop that kind of raw power.

“What do we even know about the Fentons?” Abrams asked.

“They’re ghost hunters and mostly make weapons now, but before that they dabbled in all sorts of ecto-based technology. The husband, Jack, is the engineer and the wife, Maddie, is the biologist. They have two kids, Jasmine and Daniel. Jasmine, or ‘Jazz’ is supposedly top of her class, likely to graduate valedictorian, while Daniel’s something else. Bad grades, skips class, all around a bit of a loner,” Crowley said, regurgitating information like he was reading a case file.

Mark glanced at his colleague, giving him an impressed smirk. “Did your homework early, eh?”

“I told you, something aint right here,” Crowley said.

“And? What do you think?” Mark asked.

“What I think is that I’m shocked their house is even coded to have a lab inside. I’d like to know whose ass they kissed to give them that permit.”

Abrams snorted. “Jesus, Jacob.”

“What? I’m right!”

“Fine, whatever,” Mark stood, collecting his empty coffee cup and paper plate. “I godda head home, my sister’s visiting this weekend.”

“Alright, tell Susan I said hello. And say hi to her little demon child too.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “She’s four.”

“What, four year olds can’t be demons? I should know, I had two of them.”

Abrams swiped her empty wrapper and tossed it in the trash. “Yeah, I have to feed Atlas. I’ll see you both next week.”

“Take care!”

---

“Well at least we know Phantom didn’t change anything about his facial structure when he became a ghost.” Crowley’s small eyes swiveled between the photo of Phantom in one hand and the new sketch rendition of his human identity.

Mark grunted and stared at his own copy of the photo.

The corpse had been too decomposed to be able to distinguish a face, and ghosts often change their appearance in death. Sure, Phantom looked like a regular human, but it was impossible to know that for a fact.

Fortunately, modern research and re-composition was advanced enough that they didn’t have to wonder for long. Especially with this being such a high-profile case for the city.

And as it turned out, aside from the hair, Phantom really didn’t look all too different when he was alive. He had the same sharp nose, the same angular chin, the same boyish face. The only thing that was different was his hair and presumably his eye color, although that was still a mystery due to the corrupted DNA.

Even though there was little change to Phantom’s appearance, seeing the black haired, brown eyed human boy staring back at Mark was rather shocking, if he were being honest. There was something off putting about seeing this enigma quite literally brought back to life. It took away that edge of lore that the heroic town enigma had.

Now Phantom wasn’t some wild mystery. He was just...a kid.

“This really is something,” Crowley said. “Guess we should put it to good use.”

Mark sighed, turning his attention back to his desktop. Sifting through missing person’s reports was never exactly a fun way to start the morning.

“You think you can handle it, rookie?” Crowley asked.

“Yeah, I got it. I’ll let you know if I find anything interesting.”

Crowley let the photographs drop to his side. “Alright, I’m going to continue doing some digging on our suspects.”

“Good luck.”

“And you.”

The work was tedious and depressing. Face after face of missing minors flickered across his screen. It was almost too hard to believe that Phantom was a part of this list.

Caucasian. Black hair. Eye color unknown. Five foot five.

That was all they had on Phantom. For all they knew, he could have been from another city entirely.

But hopefully Mark would find a hit, at least one kid from Amity who fit the profile.

And in fact, there were a few...sort of. Four teens who had black hair and were about five foot five. But none of them looked quite like Phantom.

Which meant Mark had to widen his search.

How wonderful.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms out wide. It was nearly lunchtime now and he felt like he’d gotten no further than where he was before. Mark stood from his chair, feeling a bit defeated. Hopefully Crowley would’ve had better luck on the suspect list than Mark.

He strolled over to Crowley’s desk, only to find the desk empty. Crowley had likely already left for lunch, the bastard hadn’t even bothered to grab Mark on the way.

Not that Mark could really blame him. He doubted Crowley wanted to use his lunch break to talk about the case after the tedious research they both had spent their mornings doing.

Mark dug his phone out of his pocket, intent on sending the older detective an update, when he stopped. Out of the corner of his eye, a familiar face stared up at him.

Mark slowly lowered the device and crept toward the desk, as if his mere presence would disintegrate the paper on his desk.

Inside Fentonworks: the Fenton family’s home-grown anti-ghost business!

It was an article printed from some online magazine that Mark didn’t recognize. Slapped on the cover of the page, just under the title, was a photo of a family of four beaming, waving at the camera. One of the members was a young boy—about Phantom’s age—with black hair in almost the same haircut as Phantom, with that crooked smile that Phantom had been caught adorning all too many times.

Waving at the camera.

Skinny, short for a boy, son to two ecto-science parents who fill their basement with dangerous high-voltage and easily combustible ecto-technology.

His name was listed as Daniel.

Mark glanced at the two images in his hand, and then looked at the article below him.

Holy shit.

No. There was no way. Crowley had been suspicious of them, and he had good reason to include them on his suspect list, but this kid was alive. He wasn’t missing, he wasn’t dead, he was standing right there.

It just wasn’t possible.

His apple watch pinged, alerting him of a ghost attack nearby.

Mark hurried back to his desk, swiping his coat off his chair.

This was impossible.

The police sketch and the copy of the article pressed against his fist.

Phantom was a ghost. Ghosts will do anything to protect themselves. They would lie, cheat, and manipulate humans in order to stay on top.

Mark was just seeing things.

There was no way that this was him.

He beelined for the door, tucking the papers into his pants pocket.

It wasn’t possible.

The drive there was short, and the fight even shorter. It had just been the Box Ghost, so nothing that Phantom couldn’t handle. The ghost gave his little song and dance, captured the ghost, and waved brightly to the crowd. But Mark could see right through it, right past all the cracks in his façade.

Phantom was losing it.

And Mark could end this.

“Phantom!” Mark called out through his cupped hands.

The ghost flinched, his cheery face replaced with a scowl instantly.

“Another time,” he said.

But Mark didn’t have another time. He needed to know now.

Because Phantom could end this insane proposition. He could laugh heartlessly at the mere mention that he was this random living child. He was Phantom, protector of Amity Park, not some human experiment.

Not some impossibility.

Not some kid who’s been dead for a year and only pretending to be human for his family.

Not the greatest act of manipulation from a ghost that Mark had ever seen.

Mark yanked the papers from his pocket and unfolded them with shaking fingers. He held them up hastily, knowing that they were too far away for normal human eyes.

But this was Phantom. He wasn’t human.

Mark saw the exact moment that Phantom recognized the photos. The ghost’s eyes widened, his face paled, his aura dimmed. Then, in the blink of an eye, the ghost vanished.

Mark was right.

---

The air was thick, tense. Phantom slumped in his armchair, his body the equivalent of a white flag. Even so, his eyes were bright, charged with nervous energy.

He was terrified.

Atlas must have sensed this, because the dog had decided to break away from being Sarah’s shadow to lay against the ghost’s feet.

“I don’t know where to start,” Phantom admitted after a few tense beats of silence.

“The beginning, maybe,” Jacob said.

Phantom looked sick at the suggestion, but relented. “You’re right. Yeah...I…” he glanced up at the two detectives and Sarah seated across the coffee table on her dull green couch. Phantom had appeared in her kitchen not even an hour ago, looking like he’d just seen the personification of death itself.

And instantly, Sarah knew.

She’d tried to coax him to let her bring him to the station so he could come clean there, but he refused. He said the information was too sensitive and he didn’t trust the station to not have cameras recording every angle of every room.

And so they settled on her living room instead. Mark and Jacob arrived, seeming none too surprised by the arrangement, and more than willing to follow Phantom’s direction if it meant they would finally get the truth.

Which Phantom didn’t seem remotely ready to give.

“I guess…” He tried again, closing his eyes. There was another tense moment of silence before a pair of white rings appeared around Phantom’s waist, traveling up his body and leaving behind a skinny black haired teenager.

Phantom cautiously opened his eyes. And, to Sarah’s surprise, they were blue.

“You’re Daniel Fenton,” Mark said.

She heard Jacob suck in a breath.

“Yes. I’m Danny Fenton.” Without the echo, his voice sounded much closer, much more down to earth than Phantom’s. “And a year ago, I was in an accident.”

His voice, like the rest of him, seemed softer without the powerful aura of Phantom behind it. If Sarah had passed him on the street, she wouldn’t have blinked twice. Gone was the cocky personality, the perfect posture, the floating white hair, the bright, determined expression. Gone was the jumpsuit, the logo, the strong voice that seemed like it could project for a mile, the banter, the confidence.

It was just a kid. A kid with baggy jeans, dirty shoes, and a plain shirt. He didn’t seem lithe, he looked weak. The green undertone to his skin was replaced with red, and his shoulders hunched in a way Sarah had never seen on Phantom before.

“What happened?” Mark asked.

“When my parents first completed their interdimensional ghost portal, it didn’t work. I decided to—it was my fault. I just decided to go in it. I don’t know why.” He looked up to the ceiling. “It was a stupid idea. The portal was plugged in, but there was a switch inside that wasn’t turned on, and I tripped over a wire and turned it on. From the inside.”

Sarah felt a pang in her chest. “That’s horrible.”

“Yeah. It was,” Phantom agreed. “And then I guess the portal stabilized the connection between Amity Park and the Ghost Zone, because ghosts started appearing in town. So I decided that if it was my fault that they were here, I was going to protect the town. And that’s what I’ve done.”

That’s his Obsession, Sarah realized. It’s protection.

“Why not come out with it?” Jacob asked. “Why bury your body? Why still try to pass as a human?”

Phantom’s head fell into his hands. “I didn’t know what else to do! It—I...you have to understand, my parents would never understand. They think all ghosts are evil. I couldn’t just come out and tell them what happened, they’d kill me!”

“So you decided it was safer to play human,” Jacob said.

“Yeah. I guess I did. Especially since...I sort of still am?” He lifted his head and stuck out his wrist. “I still have a pulse.”

No one moved.

“You’re shitting me,” Jacob guffawed.

“No, I’m being serious. The portal killed me, but then it brought me back to life. Except by then my body was already altered from the ecto-electricity, so the working theory is that I exist in this sort of limbo state between dead and alive. Hence why…” He transformed into Phantom and then back to Fenton. “Hence why I have two forms.”

“And the body,” Mark said. “The coroner report said it only weighed a little over half the weight of a normal body due to all the ectoplasm. But if you’re half alive, how would you have a body?”

Danny shrugged. “I don’t know? To be honest, that day was such a nightmare that I’ve mostly blocked it out.”

Mark finally reached over and took the boy’s wrist. He pressed two fingers against the skin and waited.

“Damn.” His eyes widened. “It’s actually there.”

“No way,” Jacob said, leaning over to take Phantom’s wrist. A few seconds passed before he was joining Mark’s reaction. “It is there.”

“I know.” Phantom tucked his arm back to his chest. “I don’t understand it. I have a heart and also a ghost core. I can feel it all the time, even as a human. I have human thoughts and feelings and ghostly instincts playing constantly.”

As confusing and morbid as this was, it made sense in a sort of twisted way that Sarah only reserved for the rambling logic of her paranoid, senior grandmother. It explained why Phantom, a ghost, would willingly risk himself day in and day out over the safety of humans. Phantom was a ghost who was driven to protect his home, and he was also a human who wanted to look after those he loved.

He was truly Schrödinger’s cat. Dead and alive inside his little box, his little town, with no one able to measure him.

“That’s the thing that sets you apart from the ghosts,” Sarah said, tapping her knee with her finger. “That day when you came to my house saying that you were different, this is what you were talking about. You also said it would be dangerous if this information got out.”

The question was implied, and Phantom seemed to pick up on it, judging by his grimace.

“You weren’t talking about your parents.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“So then who is it? Who was trying to destroy the morgue? Who are you hiding from?”

Danny crossed his arms and glared at the floor. “Isn’t it obvious?” he said bitterly. “The government. GiW, all of them. Think of what they’d do if they knew someone could be both dead and alive at the same time.”

“Well fuck the lot of them,” Jacob said.

“Yeah,” Danny agreed.

“And the ghost who was trying to take down the morgue?” Mark pressed.

“I…” Danny’s eyes shifted. “I can’t say. It’s a ghost thing. All the ghosts in the Zone know about me, they call me a halfa. Half alive, half dead. Honestly, I don’t think it took much convincing for them to want to protect me.”

“But you were fighting against them,” Jacob countered. “If they were really trying to protect you, then why not go along with them?”

Danny opened and closed his mouth, the words seemingly stuck in his throat. Words from Maddie’s ecto-biology papers fluttered across Sarah’s eyes, about how ghosts were evil, they were liars, they’d say and do anything to keep themselves safe.

But as Danny let out a defeated sigh, his arms uncrossing to dangle at his side, Sarah couldn’t help but see the face of a scared teen who was just doing his best.

“It’s a ghost thing,” he finally said. “I didn’t like what they were doing because...because I needed to protect my body. If the building collapsed, it would have gotten damaged.”

Sarah blinked, and her and Mark exchanged a glance.

“I see,” Mark said carefully. “So if there was a plan to recover your...body...safely, you would have gone along with it?”

“I don’t know. Ghosts are weird, they all have their own agenda. I’d rather if it were just...left alone. In the ground. Untouched. Like it had been.”

They were silent for a moment, and Sarah watched as Jacob and Mark stared at each other in silent conversation. One that only partners could properly understand.

Finally, Jacob relented. “Okay, here’s the deal. Say I go talk with Chief Davis and he agrees to keep your identity secret. In exchange, all you’d have to do for us is tell your parents.”

For a moment, Sarah thought Phantom was going to bolt out of the armchair.

“Why?”

“Because you’re screwing around putting your life in danger every day, kid,” Jacob said. “Not to mention, your parents’ house is a walking minefield for you. You godda protect yourself.”

“I protect myself just fine.”

“Doesn’t dismiss the fact that you’re running off getting in fights every day with ghosts, and then coming home to a house littered with ecto-weapons that could kill you. You know, all the way.”

“My parents will kill me if they find out though,” Danny said darkly. “You don’t know them.”

“Which is why you won’t be alone. Crowley and I will be there with you. And I know a woman in CPS who can keep this on the down low too. We won’t let anything happen, promise,” Mark said.

Phantom glanced between them, his wide blue eyes betraying just how fearful he was. “You promise?”

“Yeah kid, we got your back.”

---

“It’s going way better than I thought,” Danny said, throwing the stick up the path.

Atlas didn’t hesitate, bounding after the object with an enthusiasm rivaled by no one.

“I’m glad,” Sarah said. “You deserve a safe place to go home to.”

Danny cocked his head. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

Getting to know Danny these past few weeks was surreal. For a year now, Sarah had a set mental image of who Phantom was. The hero, the great protector, the thrill-seeker.

But now, as she got to know the quiet yet snarky kid who went to school and stressed over his math exams just like any other teen would, she’d gotten to appreciate the person that Danny truly was, the person he became when he wasn’t trying to hide his ghostly persona or playing the larger-than-life character.

Atlas pranced back, the stick held high like an Olympic medal.

“Good boy!” Danny praised.

At Sarah’s nonverbal command, Atlas dropped the stick in front of Danny, who was more than happy to pick it up and hurl ahead of the dirt path again.

“It’s weird. It’s almost like...I don’t know, it’s just kind of relieving? To not need to hide? Like don’t get me wrong, my parents are still kinda weird about it. I still don’t really use any of my powers at home because I just don’t think I’m ready. But the other day I used intangibility to get a cup out of the cabinet instead of just opening the cabinet door, and my mom didn’t even say anything. I remember back when I first got my powers and I couldn't figure out how to work them. I spent so long trying to hide any weirdness, and to think that now I can just do stuff and nobody cares.” A blissful smile dressed Danny’s lips. “It’s just nice, is all.”

“I bet,” Sarah said. “Must be a huge weight off your shoulders. And your sister’s okay with it?”

“Oh yeah. My sister actually already knew about it.”

“You’re kidding. Really?”

Danny threw the stick again. “Yeah, but I already knew about that. She told me a few months ago. But she’s been really helpful at home with trying to get everyone on the same page.”

“That’s good.”

“And my dad’s already been begging to take me out to the field with him.”

“Have you taken him up on it?”

“No. Not yet.”

Sarah peered cautiously over to him. “Why not?”

“I dunno.” Danny’s eyes tracked Atlas’ triumphant return from the woods. “It just seems a bit weird still. And besides, it would be kinda odd if my parents went from trying to kill me to suddenly Phantom’s new best friend overnight. For now they’ve agreed to a public truce.”

Ah yes, the truce. That had been all over the news when the Fenton’s announced it, citing new research into ghost psychology that showed instances of benevolent ghosts. The news had rocked the city, some calling the duo crazy, while others praising them for their growth.

Even though Phantom and the Fenton couple were still in the growing pains of their new truce, no one could deny how much more smoothly ghost fights had gotten since it began. There was less property damage, less citizen’s hurt, and overall the process seemed far more professional than it ever had.

“I’ve noticed a change,” Sarah said. “I really think it’s for the best.”

“So do I. Even though it’s still kinda weird.”

“It’ll get easier, just give it time.”

Atlas dropped the stick, apparently distracted by some scent on a bush. He stopped to sniff the plant before wandering behind it, his nose glued to the ground.

“Wait, Atlas—” Danny started, watching as Atlas disappeared into the foliage.

Hearing his name, the dog leapt back onto the trail and over to Danny, who paused to scratch him behind his ear. “Good boy.”

Sarah grinned down at the duo.

Who knew a cadaver dog and a half dead kid could make such a good pair?

---

Thanks for reading!

[inkykeiji]

just this once

character: sawamura daichi

genre: smut

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), praise kink, manipulation, size kink if u squint, dacryphilia

words: 4k

synopsis:

And, being as stubborn as he is, it takes him a few months to finally admit to himself that his feelings toward you are more than platonic. It’s a horrifying realization—one that has his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach and bile rising in the back of his throat—that hits him with the force of a fucking freight train one night when he catches you in the hallway wearing nothing but a skimpy little tank top and a cute pair of lace-trimmed panties, and his first thought is how badly he wants to slam you against the wall and fuck you stupid.

Daichi isn’t sure what he did to deserve such a beautiful punishment, but you are the most gorgeous creature he has ever seen.

And you’re entirely off-limits.

He has to admit, he was fairly excited when he found out about the engagement, eagerly awaiting the day that you’d be moving in with your mom. He enjoys being a big brother to his blood siblings, but they’re so much younger than he is, and he can’t wait to have a sibling closer to his age.

But, Christ, he doesn’t expect you to be so fucking pretty.

It’s unfair, really. The gods must be mocking him, because forcing him to live with a cute little thing like you is downright cruel, as far as he’s convinced.

You have him wrapped around your pinky finger the moment your eyes meet. Just one look—a soft, shy gaze through your thick eyelashes as you introduce yourself—and he’s sure he’d do anything for you, pull the moon out of the goddamn sky for you, if you so desired.

And there’s nothing wrong with that, right? Big brothers are supposed to be doting and protective of their younger sisters, aren’t they?

He’s thrilled to hear that you’re just as excited as he is to be step-siblings, to have a niichan, being an only child yourself. The two of you get along instantly, staying up until the early hours of the morning planning all of the things you want to do together, all of the things you weren’t able to experience before, all of the things he’ll teach you.

You fall into such a natural routine so quickly, Daichi can barely remember what life was like without you—what were his mornings like before, when he didn’t have to drop you off at university? What did he used to do with his nights, before you two had developed the regular habit of binging old sitcoms and shitty rom-coms and horror movies?

And he’s sure you don’t mean it…he’s sure you don’t even realize what you’re doing when you curl up next to him on the couch after a stressful day, nestling into his side perfectly, resting your head on his chest as you sulk about school, or professors, or assignments, or anything, really. You know you can come to him with whatever problem your having—he’s told you a thousand times.

He’s sure you don’t think anything of the way his fingers comb through your hair as you complain, the way he’ll occasionally press gentle kisses against your scalp, the way he automatically lets you crawl into his lap when the day’s been really bad, thighs straddling his hips as you collapse heavily against him, nuzzling your face into his skin.

Of course you don’t. Why should you?

And he knows he should feel awful—does feel awful—that these are kind of his favourite days, because he gets to put his hands on you, feel you relax into him as you mumble against his neck or shoulder, feels adulterous pride swell in his chest when you sleepily admit that he always makes you feel so much better, that no one else is able to cheer you up the way he is.

It’s torture in the most delicious way, even if it sometimes hurts to watch you lean against the counter and stare up at his best friend with stars in your eyes, giggling softly as Suga pays you compliment after compliment. So it makes his chest and throat burn with the sting of jealousy a little—that’s normal, right? He’s just being a little protective, is he not? He just doesn’t want to see you get hurt, alright?

And, being as stubborn as he is, it takes him a few months to finally admit to himself that his feelings toward you are more than platonic. It’s a horrifying realization—one that has his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach and bile rising in the back of his throat—that hits him with the force of a fucking freight train one night when he catches you in the hallway wearing nothing but a skimpy little tank top and a cute pair of lace-trimmed panties, and his first thought is how badly he wants to slam you against the wall and fuck you stupid.

The thought feels like it comes out of nowhere, making him audibly gasp, as he tries to fool himself into thinking that he hasn’t been forcing back such lewd thoughts since the day he met you.

But that thought finally snaps open the floodgates in his mind, rendering him instantly powerless to the explicit and obscene scenarios that flash through his brain without his permission, eyes glued to your ass as you walk away.

Except then you stop, turning back to look at him still frozen in the hallway, cocking your head to the side and uttering a soft, “Dai-nii?”

“M’fine,” he says roughly, his voice not his own. You frown—you can see right through him. You’re walking towards him, and he wants to tell you to stop, he wants to turn away and hurry into his own room, but his feet are bolted to the floor, gaze captivated by the teasing cleavage that tiny tank top affords him.

He wants to believe that the way your eyes, glossy and half-lidded, slowly rake over his bare chest and land on the tent in his flannel pj pants, is entirely innocent. He desperately wants to believe this.

But the way your lips part with a quiet gasp that fades into the softest whimper, tells him otherwise. Your eyes slowly meet his, breathing a little laboured.

“I…” you begin, frowning a little as your eyebrows knit, as if you’re unsure how to express this thought. “Do you want—”

“No,” he says instantly, finally regaining control over his traitorous body and taking a large step back from you. He doesn’t want to know what you were going to ask, doesn’t even allow himself a second to think about all of the possibilities. “Go to bed, sweetheart,”

Then he’s gone, walking hastily down the hallway and disappearing into his room. And you’re left standing in alone, confused as to why there’s heat pooling between your thighs and why your chest stings so bad from his vague denial.

Such thoughts don’t stop after that night—he can’t help the way his cock twitches in his jeans when you lick honey from your thumb innocently, his mind automatically wondering what those lips would feel like wrapped around him; or the way he wants to pin you down and fuck you until your crying when you look up at him with those pretty, pretty eyes, the ones you use when you’re asking him for something.

It’s okay, he reasons with himself, even though he feels like he’s being torn apart at his very seams by guilt and lust. It’s fine as long as he doesn’t act on them, right?

Your happiness is more important than his anyway. Any good niichan would know that, would value their siblings’ feelings over their own.

Because the way your eyes light up when you talk to him about something you love, the way you’re always so excited to tell him about a new development in your life—whether it be a good grade, or a new crush, or something you and your best friend did over the weekend—and the way you cherish his opinions so much…

Those moments mean more to him than anything else, and he’d never want to do anything to lose your trust in him, your unwavering faith that simultaneously warms his chest and makes his stomach churn.

Yes, he’s positive he’d do absolutely anything for you.

So when some stupid boy breaks your heart, has you hesitantly knocking on his bedroom door at three in the morning with your arms wrapped unsurely around yourself as you try to stifle your soft little sobs—well.

He’s ready to go out and beat that motherfucker to death for even causing you to shed a single tear.

In fact, you find yourself having to talk him out of it in that very moment, little fingers curling in the coat he’s in the middle of shrugging on, tugging and hastily asking if you can spend the night with him instead.

And he should say no. No matter how hurt you are, no matter how much he wants to hold you in his arms and wipe your tears and make it all better, it’s wrong.

Or, at least, that’s what he tells himself. More than anything, in reality, he just doesn’t trust himself. It doesn’t matter that it’s wrong.

But, goddamn it, he can’t say no to you.

And you know. He knows you know, can see it in the way your eyelids flutter a little as you gaze at him through your lashes, glistening with unshed tears, can see it in the way you squeeze your arms around yourself just a hint more, pushing your breasts up, can hear it in the way you whimper out, “Please, Dai-nii?”

And despite the fact that he knows, and that he should probably be furious at you for exploiting his weakness, manipulating him and turning him into putty in your soft little hands—he can’t.

Because he loves it just as much, because even if you didn’t know, he’d still never be able to refuse you. And he hates himself for it, blames himself for it, would still never even think to blame it on you. You’re his perfect little angel, anyway, aren’t you? Actually, now that he thinks about it, there is a chance you might not even know what you’re doing, isn’t there? You’re just so upset right now, clearly not in any sort of stable mindset, he tries to reason with himself, tries to alleviate even just the tiniest hint of the guilt crushing his chest as he caves, nodding and opening the door wider, inviting you in.

He can’t stand the way your voice gets all tiny and frail when you ask again if he’s going to stay with you as he tucks you into his bed, almost as if you’re afraid of the rejection. How can he say no, when your fingers are tangling in his t-shirt and pulling him closer, pleading softly with him.

How can he say no, when you tell him that you feel better simply being in his presence, looking as though you’re about to burst into tears all over again when he hesitates answering.

“Of course, baby,” he says softly. “Of course I’ll stay,”

He tells himself it’s fine as he crawls into his bed next to you, allowing you to latch onto him immediately, fingers tracing patterns on his chest. He promises himself just this once, just because you’re broken-hearted and he doesn’t want to upset you more, wouldn’t be able to handle the look of hurt on your face if he denied you.

But you’re nuzzling your face against his chest, crying softly and begging him to just make it go away already, make the hurt stop even if it’s just for a little bit.

And, God, what he’d give to just take it all away from you, to cradle your face between his big hands and kiss you until you’re breathless, to make you cum until your mind’s numb, until you literally can’t think of anything but him, until your throat’s sore and you’re about to pass out from exhaustion—

No. No, this is wrong. It’s wrong to take advantage of you in such an emotional, vulnerable state.

Except then you’re grinding against his strong thigh, wedged between your legs, and making these cute little noises, soft whimpers of Dai-nii and tiny gasps that get caught in your throat.

He wants to tell you to stop, opens his mouth to firmly order that you cease these actions, but all he can seem to force out is a soft groan, tongue turning to sand in his mouth.

Because—well, your sobs have stopped, haven’t they? There are no longer tears leaking from your eyes or little sniffles hitching in your throat, right? What if this really is what you need, a good orgasm to help you forget, to help you sleep?

He makes a mental deal with himself, manages to talk himself into it, deciding to indulge himself just a little, just for tonight, just enough to satisfy the desire blazing in the pit of his stomach.

Large hands settle on your hips, aiding you in moving against him.

“Does it feel good, baby?” he asks, voice husky, words leaving his lips without his permission.

You nod, humming a little and nuzzling your face into his shoulder.

“Tell me,” he commands softly.

“F-Feels good, niichan,” you breathe.

“Yeah? Think you can cum from just riding my thigh, babygirl?”

“Uh-huh,”

“Show me,” he whispers. “I bet you look so pretty when you cum, don’t you? Let niichan see,”

Your hips pick up speed, broken whines falling from your lips as you aggressively grind your cunt against him.

He should tell you to keep it down or slap a hand over your mouth and muffle the noises with his palm. Really, he should. You’re loud, probably too loud, and he’d be surprised if your parents can’t hear you though the thin walls, just a room over.

But he can’t bring himself to do it, can’t force the words out or move his arm at all, greedily enticed by your sweet sounds—sweet little sounds your making for him, because of him.

“That’s it,” he encourages, pressing his thigh up into your dripping core more, flexing the strong muscles and making you cry out softly. “Make a mess all over niichan’s thigh, come on,”

And then your gasping out his name, breath hot against his neck, hips stuttering as you gush all over him, a pleasant warmth spreading across his thigh, seeping through the flannel and making the material stick to his skin as you try to squeeze your legs together, whole body curling into his chest.

He forces you to keep moving your hips through your orgasm until your body is jolting and trembling from every drag of your sensitive clit against his hard muscles, until your whimpering for him to stop, it’s too much! and going boneless against him.

A deep chuckle vibrates in his chest, gentle fingers combing through your hair as he hushes you, satisfied that you seem tuckered out and telling you to sleep now, princess, before pressing soft kisses to your head.

Just this once, he vows to himself as your breathing evens out, eyes slipping shut. Just this once—he got a taste now, got to see how pretty you look when you cum, got to hear you moan out his name, and that’s enough. That should be enough to satiate the voracious lust that curls in his stomach and rises in his throat every time he sees you.

Except it isn’t.

He’s terrible, awful, should feel so fucking ashamed of himself when you show up outside his door only a few nights later, shyly asking if you can ride him again and he has to restrain himself from jumping you right there.

“But, um,” you whisper, eyes darting to his and then away, fingers twisting together in front of your body. “N-Not your thigh this time?”

He can barely comprehend the words spilling out of your mouth, stares at you with those wide, warm, sweet eyes, breath coming out in short huffs through his slightly parted lips.

“You—What?”

A frown graces your lips, anxiety from the potential rejection beginning to build in your chest. “I want to ride your cock,” you whimper, eyes finding his again. Your heart is pounding, slamming against your ribcage, those six little words hanging in the air between the two of you.

He makes a soft, hurt little sound in the back of his throat, chest beginning to rise and fall quicker.

“We—” he stops to clear his throat, attempting to rid his voice of huskiness. “We shouldn’t,” he aims for stern, but his voice only sounds strangled, and the way you’re staring at him with those eyes makes his entire body feel like it’s just been set aflame.

“I-I know but I—” a little hiccup cuts you off, vision blurring with tears. “I just c-cant stop thinking about how good you’d feel, how full you’d make me, all stretched out and—”

No, he wants to scream. Not the tears, anything but the tears.

“—Please, Dai-nii?” you sniff a little, gleaming eyes pleading with him, bottom lip pushed out into a pout. “Ju-Just this once? I just—just wanna—” a choked sob cuts you off, and you rub at your eyes with your fists, chest beginning to stutter.

And he breaks.

“Oh baby,” he’s cooing, wrapping strong arms around you and holding you to his chest tightly. “Shh, quiet honey,” he’s hushing you as he sits on the edge of his bed, pulling you to straddle his lap. “Niichan will let you ride his cock if that’s what you want, sweetheart,” he says softly, brushing your hair away from your face. “Okay? You want that? Will it make my little girl feel better?”

“Y-Yes, Dai-nii,”

“Alright, stop crying, pretty girl,” tender thumbs swipe across your cheekbones, catching stray tears and wiping them away.

His heart feels like its shattering in his chest, and he hates seeing you so upset, pressing your lips together and trying to swallow your pathetic little sobs, but he can’t lie—you begging to ride his cock, wanting it so bad that you’re crying for it, has his brain hazy with lust, clouding his judgement as blood rushes south. His mouth is dry, cock throbbing impatiently as he helps you out of your cute little pj shorts, unable to stop the involuntary sharp inhale of breath when he finally sees your pretty little pussy, unable to help the soft noise that gets caught at the back of his throat as you tug a little at the waistband of his pants, looking at him through your lashes as you free his aching cock.

And then he has you whimpering as he pushes into your tight cunt, praising you as you stretch around him. Really, he should’ve taken the time to prep you properly, should’ve scolded you and been firm with you when you got a little bratty, refusing his fingers and whining that you want his cock now.

“Look at how good my little girl is,” he breathes out, leaning back from you while large hands steady your hips, eyes focused on his cock as it slowly slides in. “My precious baby, taking my cock so well,”

“Y-Yeah?” you ask in a tiny voice, looking at him in near desperation, needing to hear the praise again. “Hurts a little, niichan,”

“You can do it, baby,” his fingers flex on your waist, never slowing as he forces you down onto him, his hips pressing up to meet yours halfway.

His cock is thicker than anything you’ve ever taken before, and it burns a little as he finally bottoms out, tiny hole fluttering as it tries to accommodate him.

“See,” he pants. “You took the whole thing,”

“I-I swear I can feel you in my tummy, Dai-nii,”

“Christ,” he nearly whines, shutting his eyes tightly as his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips. He breathes out hard through his nose, gathering up every ounce of his self control as he begins to gently rock your hips against his, teeth clenching while he tries not to buck wildly into you.

You whimper a little; it still hurts a bit, but it’s beginning to fade, Daichi whispering gentle praises, breath hot against the shell of your ear as you bury your face in his neck.

“I know it hurts right now, baby,” he breathes out, still steadily rocking you on his lap. “But niichan’s gonna make it feel so good, okay?”  

And he does. He lets you grind against him, hips moving in little circular motions, forces not one but two orgasms out of you as tender fingers slip between your bodies to rub at your clit while you bounce shallowly.

It’s fucking torture for him, to feel you cream on his cock like that, tight little pussy clenching around him as you cry out breathless little ‘Dai-nii’s.

“S’it,” he praises hoarsely, thighs trembling from the effort of restraint. “Niichan’s gonna fuck you now, okay sweetheart?”

He keeps you on his lap, since you were so adamant about riding him, but holds your hips still as he begins fucking up into you. He starts off slow, letting you get used to the deep thrusts, cockhead nudging your cervix every time, but it isn’t long before his restraint completely snaps, unable to hold back any longer and begins ramming into you.

He tells you you’re so good, that you look so pretty as you take his cock, tears rolling down your cheeks and quiet grunts sounding from deep in his chest.

You whimper when he cums, begging him to fill you up, have him shuddering out a breathy, “Fuck,” as his hips still, cock pressed tightly against your cervix as it throbs.

And just like that, just this once turns into only a few times, and grinding against his thigh turns into his cock buried inside of you, his tongue shoved down your throat, your moans muffled by big palms.

And you love it. You love the way his chestnut eyes darken as you sink down on his cock, the way his voice drops so low it makes your stomach swoop, the way his entire demeanor—the air around him, his very aura—changes the moment you begin acting like a brat.

It’s exhilarating, intoxicating, addicting. You love the groans that fall from his lips when you tell him no one has ever—no one can ever—fuck you as good as he does. You love the way he loses himself in it, hips slamming into you hard enough to jostle your entire body up the bed, the way he leaves bruises in the shape of his hands on your hips, your thighs, your ass.

And although the guilt eats him alive—erodes his insides, rots him to his very core—he can’t stop.

He should put a stop to it. He wishes he were strong enough to put a stop to it.

He should, he should, he should.

He should do a lot of things.

But he won’t.  

Because he’s too selfish, too greedy, to give you up. He’ll bear the sins and suffer the consequences if he just gets to call you his, if he just gets to hear you cry out his name into his palm as he rams his cock into you with a hand slapped tightly over your mouth, if he just gets to fill you up with his cum every night.

He feels disgusted in himself, disgusted in his pathetically weak resolve that you know how to break with just a look and a soft niichan, disgusted by how much he fucking loves every second of it. But he’d do anything for you, just like any good niichan would, right?

[the-modernmary]

to be enough || aaron hotchner x gn!reader

Summary: During a movie night with your boyfriend Aaron, you accidentally stumbled onto his old wedding video, and it makes you wonder if you could ever compete with his first love?

A/N: This was an anonymous request, thank you SO MUCH for sending this in!! It’s my first request and it was so much fun to write!! I love soft Hotch so, so much. I’m sorry this took so long to get out. I was sick on and off for like two weeks straight, it was a whole thing. I hope you like this!!

masterlist || read on ao3

“I’ll make popcorn and open the wine, you pick the movie. We’ll meet back on the couch in ten minutes,” Aaron said quickly as he pressed a kiss to your cheek before making his way to his kitchen.

  You giggled at your boyfriend’s eagerness as soon as he opened the door to his apartment. Truth be told, you couldn’t blame him, though. It was rare that the two of you ever really got the chance to just hang out at his apartment. Whenever Aaron was home, he liked to spend as much free time with his son as possible, which you completely understood. So between spending time with Jack and Aaron being away on cases, you lived for these small moments of alone time and domesticity. 

  “You might regret letting me pick the movie, my love,” you called to him jokingly as you sat down in front of his TV, looking for where the remote was hiding. “I am very loyal to my early 2000’s chick flicks.”

  The sound of Aaron’s laughter floating through his apartment made your heart swell. He had never been the tough, FBI unit chief around you, but he was also rarely so carefree and light. There was always a shield around him, especially with the way he would carefully choose his words so as to not give away too much of himself. He was always so guarded and unwavering.

  Aaron poked his head out of the kitchen, hair falling in his eyes. “In the interest of honesty, I’m fully planning on moving this to the bedroom before we even get halfway through the movie,” he admitted, his voice carrying even over the sound of popcorn in the microwave.

You giggled again and shook your head fondly, unable to stop the smile spread across your face at his words. Seeing him be so playful was like a gift — always a surprise, but never unwelcome. You lived for those small glimpses of the man you knew he was.

  Aaron went back to choosing the perfect movie night wine and you settled on the couch, turning on the TV and ready to pick out the goofiest, most feel-good movie you could find. Before you could pull Netflix up, however, the DVD that was already in the television began playing.

  The film was grainy and the camera work was shaky at best, so you weren’t sure exactly what you were watching at first. There was a church in the background and men dressed in nice suits. Kids dressed in their Sunday best ran around in the grass. The camera panned over to a couple who were clearly getting married, going by the big white dress the woman was wearing.

  The camera zoomed in on the couple and your heart dropped to your stomach, because there, right in the center of the screen was Aaron. It was a much younger version of him, of course, probably law school, but it was definitely him. 

  Oh god, this was his wedding video. Which meant that the beautiful, blushing bride wrapped in his arms and making him throw his head back in laughter was Haley.

  Aaron had told you about Haley and everything that had happened between the two of them right up to her murder pretty early on in your relationship with him, but then it was never really mentioned again. But you had heard the whispers on nights out with his team, listened to them all gossip amongst themselves about how “I never thought Hotch was ever going to move on?” .

  Despite every logical bone in your body screaming at you to change the film before Aaron came back into the living room, you couldn’t help but watch in morbid fascination. The Aaron on the screen was so different from the man you had come to love.

  You watched as the film Aaron spun Haley in circles and peppered her entire face in kisses. The entire time, they never once stopped touching each other, even if it was something as simple as holding each other’s hands. Aaron kept glancing over at Haley with the biggest heart eyes you had ever seen, and it was nothing like the way Aaron had ever looked at you. Even when the couple was supposed to be paying attention to the people giving speeches around them, Haley and Aaron kept sneaking glances at each other, mouthing “I love you” like it was the only thing they could think to say.

  Aaron looked so happy and so free and it was so unlike the man in the other room. In the year and a half you had been dating him, you had never seen Aaron with a smile so big. He never gave you PDA so freely, and it wasn’t something you realized you even wanted until you saw him do it with somebody else. Suddenly, you wanted to feel young and reckless and dizzy in love the way he looked back in the film.

  It was unfair to ask him to live every day with you feeling like it was his wedding day, and you knew it. Still, something stirred inside of you that made you crave for Aaron to look at you like that, even just once.

  What you had with Aaron now was safe and a certifiable “adult” relationship. Not to say it wasn’t nice, and there was plenty of passion and fun in it. All of your friends constantly expressed how envious they were that you had found somebody who was so stable yet still unpredictable and could sweep you off your feet with romantic dates under the stars. Being with Aaron felt like home for you, and you had always thought that he felt the same, although now you weren’t sure. It had never occurred to you that Aaron may not have ever really gotten over his first love.

  The microwave beeped, signaling that the popcorn was done and that Aaron would be back in the living room at any second, and you quickly switched the TV to Netflix, clicking whatever movie popped up first, not even bothering to look at the title. 

  Just in time, too, because not long after, Aaron made his way over to the couch, precariously carrying a bowl of popcorn, two wine glasses, and a bottle of a sweet red wine that had become a go-to for you both. He generally preferred red wine, but you hated the dryness of it and basically only drank sweet, dessert wines, so when the two of you found this one, it had seemed like fate. Most of your relationship with him felt like fate, honestly.

  You forced yourself not to think about the fact that Aaron was happily drinking white wine in the wedding video.

  “Either the definition of ‘chick flick’ has changed drastically,” Aaron started, plopping down next to you. “Or Mad Max is very different from what I remember.”

  “I decided to change it up, put on a movie neither of us will be invested in,” you lied, desperately fighting to keep your voice even. “That way we can move right into the bedroom portion of the night.”

  “I like the way you think, sweetheart,” he chuckled, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. His thigh was pressed against yours, but even then, he felt a million miles away from you.

  It was unfair to get so worked up over this whole wedding video thing, and you knew that. His time with Haley had ended long before he had even met you, and logically, you knew that people could fall in love multiple times. Still, that didn’t quell the anxiety that was bubbling in your stomach, making you queasy.

  Why was he even watching that video, anyway? Did he often sit right there on the very couch you were cuddling with him on and rewatch the happiest day of his life? After a date with you, did he ever come home conflicted about his own emotions and feeling guilty for moving on, and go down memory lane to remind himself who his real true love was? 

  You kept thinking about how giddy he had looked in that video, and how easy it had seemed for him to be with her. And Haley… God, how could you compete?

  She was stunning, no doubt about it, with her blonde hair and bright eyes that shined, even through shitty 90’s video camera quality. The pink on her soft-looking lips only seemed to make Aaron want to kiss them more and more, maybe to see if he could smudge her lipstick. It never once budged, though, because of course it didn’t. She seemed too perfect to have faded lipstick on her wedding day. She had floated across the makeshift dance floor, like a fucking Disney princess leaving a trail of fairy dust and sunshine everywhere she went. Everything about her seemed soft and kind and good, all things you had never once associated with yourself.

  It was no surprise that Aaron had decided he was going to marry her from the first time he saw her, as he had said in his vows. She was everything you could have ever wanted to be, and clearly, she was everything Aaron had ever wanted.

  Aaron’s voice snapped you out of your rapid descent into crippling insecurity. “I can hear you thinking from here, honey.”

  You took a long sip of your wine, avoiding his piercing gaze. “I’m just concentrating on the movie,” you lied.

  “The movie you picked specifically so that we didn’t have to pay attention?” he retorted, eyebrows raised. Really, you should have known better than to try and give him such a blatant lie. Aaron reached over you to grab the remote and paused the movie, placing his hand lightly on your knee. “What’s going on?”

  How could you even explain what you were feeling? It definitely wasn’t jealousy, although you almost wished it was. At least with jealousy, you could push it to the side as an awful, gross feeling that comes from years of internalized misogyny and being told that other women are inherently competition for the attention of men. You could deal with that feeling.

  But it wasn’t that at all. Despite Aaron’s obvious devotion to her, you found it hard (and a little twisted, if you were being completely honest) to be jealous of a woman who was violently murdered in her own home in front of her young child. Besides, jealousy would imply that you and Haley were on somewhat equal ground, which you so clearly weren’t. 

  Haley was his high school sweetheart, the love of his life, the woman he had chosen to have children with, and you…

  Well, at one point you thought you could have been that, too, but now you were faced with the fear that you were nothing more than a person to fill the hole in his heart that Haley had left. Even worse, however, was the sinking feeling that you weren’t sure if you were ever going to be enough to fill it completely. 

  “It’s stupid,” you stuttered out, avoiding Aaron’s eyes, which were so full of concern. That was the worst part. It would be one thing if Aaron didn’t love you, but he did love you. Just not in the way he loved her. “Don’t worry about me.”

  “It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.”

  “I—” You cut yourself off with a sigh and shifted on the couch so that you were facing him. “Am I enough for you?”

  Aaron looked about as taken aback by your question as you felt. You hadn’t meant to burst through the gate with that particular insecurity.

  “Are you enough for me?” he repeated slowly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, like the question didn’t make any sense. In all honesty, it probably didn’t. “If you mean ‘am I happy with you’, then yes. Incredibly. Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

  That should have made you feel better, but it wasn’t the answer you were looking for. You absentmindedly picked at a loose thread on your sweater. “I saw your wedding video,” you admitted shamefully. It felt like you were a little kid getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “And, I don’t know… You looked so happy and so… alive with her. That’s a once-in-a-lifetime love, Aaron. I’m never going to be able to be that for you.”

  Aaron’s frown deepened, and for a moment you were worried that he was going to get angry at you for watching the video. Maybe you had tainted that one happy memory for him. But the lines on his face softened just a bit and he covered your hand with both of his.

  “Have you always felt like this?” he asked cautiously, attempting to keep all emotion off his face. “Like you’re not… enough?”

  You shrugged. “Sometimes. If I think about it too much. Especially when we first started dating. But never this intense. I guess since I had only heard stories of her, it was almost like she didn’t exist? But now that I’ve seen her and how you looked at her… I love you so much and I want you to be happy, but I’m scared I can’t be that for you. I’m sorry if I’ve crossed a line, but this has been eating me up from the inside for a while now and I—”

  “Hey, hey, hey,” Aaron cut you off mid-ramble, and you took a shuddering breath. Guilt was written all over him, which made you want to crawl into a hole and never be heard from again. “Have I done anything to make you think I’m unhappy?”

  “No, of course not! You’ve been nothing but wonderful. But I’m not Haley. I can’t make you as happy as she made you. And maybe this is selfish of me, but it hurts to know that you don’t love me the way you loved her.”

  Aaron’s frown deepened, but he still held on tightly to your hand. “I didn’t think you would want me to,” he said, and now it was your turn to be confused.

  You could practically see the gears turning in Aaron’s mind as he tried to find the right words to verbalize the floodgate of emotions that had just opened. Being vulnerable and open about his feelings wasn’t something he was very comfortable with, and it definitely didn't come easy for him. The fact that he was trying and willing gave you some comfort.

  “What I mean to say is…” he backtracked. “You’re right. You’re not Haley and the way I loved her is different from the way I love you. I love you differently because you’re different. And I’m different now, too. But different doesn’t mean less, and it never has. I would never want you to think that you’re just some consolation prize.”

  He was looking at you with such intensity and sincerity that you could have cried. “It’s just that when I realized you had been rewatching your wedding, I kept thinking that maybe she was your one love,” you explained nervously. “I don’t know what that leaves me.”

  Aaron took your hand that he was holding and moved it so that it rested on his chest and you could feel his heartbeat. “My love isn’t finite. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.”

  You melted into his touch, and it was like the sun came peeking through the storm clouds. He didn’t have the exact same expression that 25-year-old him did on the wedding video, but it was something close. Maybe even something more. It was warm and inviting and felt like coming home after a long day. 

  “You’ve been nothing but the picture-perfect boyfriend,” you assured. “This is all me and my own insecurities. I saw that you had been watching the video and I just… spiraled, I guess.”

  Aaron mindlessly rubbed his thumb back and forth on your hand. “I should probably explain why I was watching it, then.”

  “God, no, you don’t owe me any explanations for what you—”

  “I was showing Jack,” Aaron interrupted, his voice soft. “He doesn’t remember her that much, and he definitely doesn’t remember when we were married. Most of his memories are of fighting or divorced parents. I wanted to show him that his parents loved each other.”

  Your face went hot as embarrassment spread through you. “Wow, that makes perfect sense and I feel like an idiot,” you breathed. “I’m sorry.”

  Aaron pressed a chaste kiss to your lips as he stood up from the couch. “You’re not an idiot, and you have nothing to be sorry for,” he promised. “Come on, let’s get changed into something a little nicer.”

  You looked down in confusion as your movie night outfit. “Why?”

  A mischievous glint flashed in Aaron’s eyes as he bent down and gave you another kiss, one much less chaste than the one before. “Because,” he mumbled against your lips. “I’m going to take you on a date and show you just how much I love you.”

[nalgenewhore]

what's the harm

elide x lorcan, modern au, fluff/fake dating, word count: 4475

Every single molecule in her body hurt. No matter how slowly she moved, how careful she was, her body protested against anything that wasn’t lying still, in her bed, buried under layers upon layers of quilts.

Elide sighed in exhaustion, her eyes shut. It took far too much energy to keep them open, energy that her flu-ridden being could not procure. She slowly turned onto her stomach and rested her cheek against one of her pillows, hoping that sleep would find her easier. Of course, like everything else she had tried over the course of the day, it was an effort made in vain.

She focused on her breathing, inhaling through her stuffed nose for four seconds, holding it for seven, and then exhaling for eight. For a while, she continued like so, lulling herself into a state of deep rest. It wasn’t quite true slumber. Elide could still hear her parents moving about in their house and her diffuser, dispensing a citrus oil blend around her room.

She simply refused to budge, hoping that if she stayed still long enough that she could trick herself into falling asleep.

The true problem was her fever. No matter how many blankets she had, nearly suffocating her, she was still wracked with chills.

Elide’s room was silent, save for the quiet hissing of her diffuser, for a short while more.

The peace was ruined when the doorbell rang. Unwillingly, her eyes opened and the seventeen year-old cursed into her pillow, blaming the deities above and below for her horrid condition. She huffed as she rolled onto her side, facing away from her bedroom door. Elide could hear one of her parents moving towards the door and opening it. The sound of muffled conversation drifted up to her bedroom, but Elide still didn’t know who it was.

A few minutes later, she heard a familiar sound – the sound of someone crashing up the staircase.

“Lochan! C’mon, I told you to be ready when I got here! I already warmed the car up for your anemic-ass,” Lorcan called, his footsteps growing louder and louder.

Elide made a pitiful noise and pulled the edge of her softest blanket over her face, hoping her fake-boyfriend would leave her the fuck alone when he saw her. Bitterly, she wondered why neither of her parents told him she was indisposed.

Only a couple moments passed before Lorcan had burst through her bedroom door, not even bothering to remember to knock as he usually did. “Lochan, are- wait, Lee? Lee?” He ventured in, his steps padding over her carpet. “What’s wrong? You didn’t forget about the thing at the twin’s place, right?”

“No,” she said, her words congested and even more muffled from her pillow. “I’m sick.”

The mattress shifted as Lorcan sat. Elide could feel the heat coming from him and resisted the urge to turn around to seek his warmth. “What’d’ya say? I didn’t hear,” he said, his voice low and impossibly gentle. “Turn around, so I can see you. Please?”

Turning around was a significant drain on her already low energy, but Elide did as Lorcan asked. She still frowned up at him, her brows knitted together. “I have the flu,” she told him, tossing an irate glance towards her bedroom door. “I can’t go to a party, I can barely walk myself to the bathroom without shaking to take a piss.”

He huffed a laugh. His eyes roved over her, though there wasn’t much he could even see. “How d’ya feel?”

“Shitty.”

Lorcan gave her a look and Elide rolled her eyes before elaborating. “Fine. I’m sore, I have a fever, and I haven’t been able to really sleep since I got this stupid flu.” He hummed and lifted his hand, pressing the backs of his fingers against her forehead. She blushed, loathing how pathetically obsessed she was with his casual affection. Elide hoped she could blame her shaking voice on her illness. “I- I’ll probably just, um, watch a stupid… movie.” She swallowed. “I think that I’ll, um… pass out.” Lorcan gave her a concerned look and she elaborated, “From the medicine and stuff.”

He hummed and finally dropped his hand, a slight frown creasing his brow. “You feel pretty warm, Lee. You’ve been keeping yourself hydrated, right?” Before she could answer, Lorcan was already turning towards her nightstand and grabbing the glass of water her father had placed there at some point in the afternoon. “Sit up and drink this.”

She frowned at him, annoyed that not even two minutes had passed before he decided to order her about. As she pushed her aching body up, Elide muttered something rude and Lorcan ignored her.

“There you go,” he said once she was in an upright position. He handed her the glass, which she grasped between both hands.

Elide raised the cup to her chapped lips and drank some of the cool water. She felt marginally better and took a few more sips before handing the glass back to Lorcan. He put it on her nightstand and turned back to her, that crease of worry still marking his brow. “What else do you need?”

“You sure are fussy,” commented Elide, eyeing the way he fixed her blanket. Lorcan merely returned her comment with a blank stare until she rolled her eyes. Almost immediately, she regretted her sass as it hurt, the pressure in her sinus pulsing. “Gods, I’m fine – really,” she lied. “I’ll get over this. Anyway, you need to go.”

Lorcan made an incredulous noise and pulled back slightly, as if offended by her words. “What? Why?”

She lifted a brow, “Um… the party? If I’m not there, Maeve’ll come and talk to you.” Her words turned bitter, “That’s the whole point of our thing.”

He frowned, looking down at his lap. “But I don’t wanna go if you won’t be there. I wanna stay with you.”

Elide’s dismissive scoff quickly turned into a coughing fit, deep coughs that came from the base of her chest. It made her ribs and stomach ache. Lorcan simply wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back until she’d calmed. Her face was hidden in his chest and she turned her head to press her cheek against the worn cotton of his shirt. “Just go,” she whispered, hating that she was all but throwing him at his psychotic ex-girlfriend. “You don’t have to lie, I won’t be upset.”

“I’m not lying, Elide.” Lorcan was silent for a moment. “Do you want me to leave?”

“It’s not up to me,” she answered weakly.

“Lochan,” he said, one of his hands moving to the back of her head. “It’s up to you. You decide if you want me to stay or,” he paused, his voice noticeably quieter when he continued, “if you want me to leave.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Elide pulled away from him, forcing herself to look in his eyes. “Stay,” she breathed, “stay with me.”

His full lips pressed together slightly, like he was trying to hide a smile. It didn’t matter much, Elide could already see it in his gaze. “Ok. I’ll stay. Just let me lock my car real quick.”

She nodded, a small grin twisting her lips, and before Lorcan left, he brushed a kiss against her feverish skin, whispering, “Don’t miss me too much, sweetheart.”

Elide couldn’t form words and watched him leave in a stunned silence. The name of endearment had been crafted for their scheme which was to convince his former girlfriend, Maeve, that she had made the worst mistake of her life when she cheated on Lorcan. At the start of the school year, only a couple weeks after he’d found her in bed with some other guy, Lorcan had hounded Elide for days on end, begging her to pretend to date him. Just long enough to make her jealous, two weeks tops, he’d said.

She’d agreed because she could never quite say no to him. For a year or so, Elide had been tutoring him in his math and science courses. It didn’t help that she was so inconveniently head-over-heels, goo-goo eyes in love with the boy.

A soft knock on the door pulled Elide from her bleak thoughts. She looked up as her mother stepped in, carrying a tray. “He’s a loud one,” Marion said by way of greeting. “I see why you like him so much.”

“Ma,” Elide groaned, flinging an arm over her burning face. “Stop saying that.”

“Oh, I’m just teasing,” her mother replied, walking in further. She set what she had been carrying down on Elide’s desk and then took a seat on the edge of the mattress. “Sit up for a moment, honey.” Slowly, Elide pushed herself up and took the mug her mother handed to her. “Drink your tea, it’ll make you feel better.”

Elide sipped delicately, her sinus so blocked she could hardly taste it. “Mmm, it’s good,” she said, her eyes closing when Marion wiped her hand over her brow to check her temperature.

“Is the boy staying with you tonight?”

Her cheeks reddened and she nodded, staring into her tea. “Yes, he is. I told him he didn’t have to.”

Marion smiled, leaning forward to kiss the top of her daughter’s head. “Well, good. I’ll leave you to it. He can spend the night, if you want,” she mentioned, oh-so casually.

As she got to her feet, a large shadow filled the doorway. Marion turned, spying Lorcan with his gym bag over his shoulder. “I texted Rowan that we weren’t- oh, Mrs. Lochan. Sorry, um, hi.” The large boy shifted on his feet, nodding his head once and then twice.

Marion merely dipped her chin, “Hello, Lorcan. Do come in, and don’t mind me. And please, call me Marion. I insist.”

He nodded, “Ok, Mrs- Marion. Sorry.”

She chuckled and waved him in as she slipped past him. Just as Lorcan reached Elide’s side, their attentions were both caught by her mother. “Oh, enjoy yourselves, you two. Your dad and I are going out for dinner.” Marion closed the door and called to Cal, “Cal, we’re going for dinner!”

Lorcan looked at Elide with wide eyes and she waved her hand, “Ignore her.”

“All right.” He shrugged and put his bag down, crouching low to unzip it.

“So… you just keep that bag in your car?”

He pulled out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, “Yeah. I have physio appointments after school and practice, so it just stays in my car.” He stood up, his clothes in one hand. With the other, Lorcan gripped the hem of his shirt. He lifted it up, exposing his stomach.

Elide’s jaw dropped a bit, her eyes suddenly wide open. They were stuck on the line of hair from the dip of his belly button that disappeared beneath his waistband. Idly, she wondered how it would feel to run her hands down his torso, tracing the grooves of muscle, the line of his hip bone. Maybe his skin would be like silk, of the richest amber.

“Oh,” Lorcan let out a curse, dropping his shirt. “Sorry. Um… I’ll just use your closet?” His cheeks were stained with pink, bringing out the light freckles Elide seldom saw.

She nodded, knowing her cheeks were just as, if not more, red. “Yeah, that’s… um, that’s a good idea.” Elide couldn’t make herself look up while he crossed her room to the closet.

The sound of the door shutting behind him was deafening in the silence of her room. She dropped her head in her hands, the warmth of her skin having nothing to do with her fever. She could hear him rustling about inside her closet and scooched herself to the edge of her bed. Elide stayed still for a long moment as she gathered the necessary strength to stand up and grab her laptop from where it was charging by her bookcase.

Just as she took her first step, Lorcan came out, his clothes bundled in his hands. “Hey, what’re you doing?”

“Getting my laptop,” Elide said, gesturing weakly towards it.

His eyes followed to where she had pointed to and he put his clothes down on the chair next to her closet. “I’ll get it, get back in bed.”

“I,” she sniffed, giving him an imperious look, “am not an invalid. I can do things myself.”

“Sure ya can. Back in bed.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. Still, Elide returned to her cosy nest of blankets, quilts, and pillows. “You’re infuriating, did you know that?”

He chuckled, bending down to pick up the computer. “You might’ve mentioned it once or twice.”

Elide muttered something about loathsome boys and frowned at him as she waited for him to join her in bed. Lorcan set the laptop down and eased himself down, staying as close as he could to the edge of the mattress without falling off. She looked at him and sighed, flipping the blankets back. Elide patted the mattress beside her, “C’mere, Lor. I’m cold and you can’t keep me warm from all the way over there.” A slight pout twisted her plush lips.

Lorcan conceded, his heart hammering in his chest as he moved into the space Elide indicated. She moved closer, resting against him. After a second, she froze, flicking her eyes up to his. “You don’t mind, right? I can get a hot water bottle or something.”

“No,” he said, easing his arms around her. “This is fine. You don’t need a hot water bottle.” Lorcan cupped the back of her head and coaxed her to lay it against the soft spot between his shoulder and chest. He smoothed her hair back from her forehead and the other arm was around her waist, keeping her snug next to him. “I got you.”

She hummed in content and stretched her own arm across his stomach, shifting her hips until she could slot one leg between his knees. “You won’t let go?” she murmured, her cheek cushioned against his chest.

“I won’t,” he replied, a small smile playing on his full lips. Lorcan managed to hold her against him as he rose to grab her laptop. He reclined again and handed it to Elide.

She opened it and unlocked it, navigating to Netflix. Exhaling a puff of air, she moved her hand back to his stomach. “You choose,” Elide whispered. “I’ll watch whatever you wanna watch.”

“Hmm.” He pulled one arm out to be able to scroll through their wide array of options. “Movie, or show?”

“Movie.” Lorcan was silent for a few minutes and Elide dozed off, her eyes shut. She opened them again when the movie began to play. “What’re we watching,” she asked him, craning her head up to see him.

“Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.”

She snorted before putting her head back down, “How fitting.”

Lorcan idly twisted her hair around his fingers, marvelling at how comfortable she seemed. It had never been this simple with anyone else, certainly not Maeve. A frown came over his face as he became frustrated, the comparison to his ex unwanted and unhelpful. The last thing he wanted on his mind when he was with Elide was Maeve. Unconsciously, he held the girl in his arms a bit tighter.

Elide made a soft noise, her brow knit together. “‘m not going anywhere,” she teased, her voice quieter than it had been before.

He eased his jaw, which he’d clenched tightly, and smoothed his hand down to her hip. “I know.” Lorcan moved his body further down, closer to her. He couldn’t help but kiss her forehead.

She was smiling when Lorcan pulled away and gazed up at him, seeming like her tongue was leaden with words she wouldn’t speak. Pink stole across her abnormally pale cheeks and Elide hastily put her head back, eyes on the movie. “I love this movie.”

“Yeah,” Lorcan whispered, mind reeling from the change in topics. “It’s good.”

After a long five minutes, Elide relaxed completely, melting over him. He rubbed his hand up and down her back, tilting his head to look at her face. “You asleep?”

She hummed, blowing out a small puff of air. “No… not yet,” she mumbled, squinting her eyes open. “No more movie. Too bright.”

He nodded, “‘kay.” Reaching out, Lorcan stopped the movie and shut the lid before picking it up. He carefully stretched his arm out and placed it on her desk. “Light off?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Lorcan tugged on the lantern’s string, plunging her room into darkness. The only source of light was from the moon shining through the window. Elide turned onto her side, extracting her limbs from him. His mind, so clouded with drowsiness and gentle affection, told him to follow her, so he did. She inhaled quickly, moving her head to the side. Lorcan dropped a kiss onto the curve of her shoulder, “Wanna sleep?”

She nodded, relaxing down into the mattress. He slipped his arm beneath her head, cushioning it beneath the pillow. Elide stretched her own arm out, her fingers slipping between his. Lorcan curled their arms towards him and hugged his left arm over her hip. Again, Elide’s same arm folded over his own, holding his hand. His chin rested on the top of her head, so he had her completely covered.

“G’night,” Elide breathed. She smiled faintly at Lorcan’s response, which was to squeeze her tighter.

“Sweet dreams, Lochan.”

<3<3<3

Lorcan woke up in the middle of the night, holding onto a shaking, sweating girl. He sat up, holding her tightly. “Lee? Lee, Elide,” he said, knowing that he shouldn’t shake her. “Elide, please, wake up.”

Carefully, he got up, keeping her on the bed. He smoothed his hand over her brow, feeling how hot she was. “Elide, wake up, sweetheart.”

She mumbled something, her eyes screwed shut. “N...no, sleep.”

“Get up,” he told her. “We have to cool you down, now.”

“Lorcan?” she asked, slowly opening her eyes. “Lor, where’d you go? Don’t go, please.”

“I’m here,” Lorcan promised, “I’m right here.” He slowly scooped her up, telling her soothing nothings as he carried her to the bathroom. “We’re just gonna cool you down, Lochan, I’m not going anywhere.”

She made a weak noise of pain, discomfort. Lorcan stepped into the tiled room and set her down on the floor. He crouched in front of the cabinet and opened the door, searching for a washcloth. Luckily, there was a stack of them right in front of him. He grabbed a couple and stood, glancing down at the girl. “You good there?”

“Warm,” Elide whispered, “too warm.” She babbled about something, no doubt a fever-induced hallucination.

His heart was beating far too quickly, but he needed to remain focused. Elide’s temperature needed to come down. If he could just get her fever to break, or lessen, Elide would be all right. Lorcan ran the tap and wetted the cloths, wringing them out so that they wouldn’t drip on her. Then, he lowered himself to her level, sitting next to her. “C’mere,” he said, cradling her head and pulling her towards him. Lorcan pressed the cloth against her forehead, then her cheeks.

She sighed, tilting her face into the cool touch. “Oh,” Elide relaxed. “Oh.”

“Yeah, there you go,” Lorcan patted her face some more, stretching his legs out. His back was against the side of the bathtub. Elide’s were curled beneath her, but she slowly began to unbend them and lay down. She rested her head in his lap and stared up at him, her hand weakly grasping his wrist.

“More, gimme more.”

In one hand, Lorcan gathered her thick hair away in a twist so it wouldn’t bother her and with the other, he dabbed her face. Her eyes slipped shut in bliss. He grinned, glad that he could bring her this small amount of relief.

Neither of them said a word for a while. Lorcan gently played with her hair and pressed the cloth to her pink skin until it wasn’t cold anymore. He dropped it in the empty bath and Elide slowly pushed herself up, her eyes more focused than they had been when he woke her up. “I need your shirt,” she said, her voice raspy and hoarse.

“Hmm?”

“Your shirt,” Elide repeated. She picked at her big hoodie. “I’m too hot, give me your shirt.”

Lorcan prayed to every god that had ever existed that Elide couldn’t see his red cheeks. “Um… ok.” He sat up and reached behind his head, pulling his shirt off in one motion. He handed it to her, refusing to meet her gaze. “Here ya go.”

He looked up, staring at the ceiling like he had never seen a more interesting thing. Elide moved to the side, just enough to take her hoodie off and let it fall. The tips of his ears burned bright red as he saw a flash of pale, smooth skin in his peripheral vision. Lorcan turned his head to the side, his nails cutting into his palms.

She laughed softly, poking her finger into his side. “I’m all done.”

Lorcan relaxed and looked back, almost choking when he saw her bare legs. His eyes snapped to her sweatpants, neatly folded alongside her hoodie. “Uh… water. You should have some water.” He rose onto his knees and took the glass beside the sink, running the water until it was cold. Lorcan filled the glass, then sat back down. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

“You keep calling me that,” she murmured, leaning against him once more. “You keep checking on me, making sure I don’t die of the flu…”

“Mm-hmm… so, what?”

“You like me,” Elide teased, taking the glass from him. “You’re so into me.”

“Oh, yeah? I am?” He was trying to play it off as a joke, desperate to keep it a secret. Even if everyone else knew, Elide didn’t. And he liked her, he liked having her as his tutor, so he wouldn’t do anything to mess it up. “I think you’ve got some brain damage from the fever, Lee.”

She took the glass, drinking deeply. Elide put the water down, shaking her head as she tipped herself down again. “Mnh-mnh, nope, you like me.”

Since she was laying on her side, Lorcan rested his hand on her waist. “You’re a cocky one, aren’t’cha?” He grabbed the other cloth and half-twisted towards the bath. Lorcan squeezed the last drops of water out before dabbing her face again.

Elide grabbed his wrist again, but instead of pulling it closer like the last time, she pushed it away. “Lorcan.”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you here?”

He frowned, slowly putting the washcloth down. “What do you mean? You’re sick. I’m taking care of you.”

“Like you’re my boyfriend,” Elide said, utterly no emotion in her voice. “And you aren’t. This isn’t real, you know.”

His heart dropped faster than it ever had. He answered oh-so carefully, “I know. We’re just… I know, Elide.”

“So. Why are you here?”

“Because it is real.”

She scoffed, pushing herself up. “Lor—”

“No, I need to tell you,” he cut her off, his wrist still caught in her grasp. Lorcan searched Elide’s eyes, “Elide, this isn’t- I don’t like Maeve, ok? I don’t like her, I have no interest in ever being in any kind of relationship with her ever again.” He continued, hoping that the gleam in her eyes wasn’t the shine of tears. “Elide, I like you. I want to be with you, I want to be your—”

Elide surged forward, dropping his arm in favour of resting her hand on the side of his neck as she kissed him.

For a moment, just a split-second, Lorcan froze. He responded quickly after, shifting closer to her.

“Shit,” she mumbled, pulling away. She was panting slightly, her eyes wide open. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry. I- I’m sick and- and I really like you too.”

“You do? Really?”

Elide nodded, laughing a bit. “Yeah. A lot, actually.”

He smiled widely, his face bright. “That’s- that’s good. Um, and, don’t worry. About the kiss. It was nice.”

“Oh, good.” She grinned, then looked down at her lap. “What happens now?” Lorcan stood up and bent down, scooping her up once more. Elide gasped through her nose, automatically clutching his shoulder.

He chuckled and carried her into the hallway. “Well, now what happens is you get better and you let me take care of you without an interrogation.” She snorted and nodded, her head laying against him. “And then, when you’re all better, I’ll take you out on a date. A real one, nice restaurant, maybe some flowers. You like lilies, right?” Elide nodded again, her smile growing. She tilted her face up, eyes on him. “You’ll wear something cute, I’ll wear something cute. It’ll be nice.”

“Yeah? Are you going to kiss me at the end of the night?”

Lorcan shouldered her door open, then gently kicked it shut. “I might.”

“Are you going to ask me to be your girlfriend, for real?”

“Maybe.”

“Lorcan!”

“What, I can’t tell you everything,” he reasoned while putting her down in bed. “I have to keep some of the mystery alive, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes, scooting over so that there would be space for him. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Lorcan took his spot next to her and folded her into his chest. “Oh, you can’t fool me.” She hummed in question as she draped herself across him. “You’re so into me, Lochan.”

Elide laughed against his warm skin, conceding. “Yeah, yeah, maybe I am.” She looked up at him. “Just a little bit.”

“Nah, nah, s’more than a little bit, sweetheart.” He dipped his head, his nose bumping into her cheek. “Gimme a kiss.”

“No, you’ll get sick,” she laughed, her hand cupping his jaw. “I mean, how shitty of a girlfriend would I be if I got you sick within ten minutes of our relationship starting?”

“Sweetheart, you know none of it was fake, right? All that stuff, all those dates and going to parties and dinner with your family and that stuff,” he said. “It wasn’t for Maeve. It was for you. Well, us. But mainly for you.” Slowly, Lorcan rolled them, making sure that he wouldn’t crush her with his full body weight. “So technically, we’ve been dating for a month and a bit now. Besides, I got my flu shots, so my chances of contracting the virus are significantly lowered.”

Elide strung her arms around his neck, her hands twisting in the air above his head. “Oh, you did?” She tilted her chin up, brushing her lips against his. “Well, since you got your flu shots…” Elide kissed him more fully, carding one hand through his hair.

Lorcan melted into her, closing his eyes. “What’s the harm,” he mumbled.

<3<3<3

dumb boy ❤

Elide: sugar-boo where are you Elide: mr. perrington’s doing attendance he’ll be pissed if you're skipping

Lorcan: One (1) Photo Attachment

Elide saved One (1) Photo Attachment from Lorcan Elide: YOU LOOK CUTE BUT YOU'RE STILL IN BED GET UP Elide: WTF ARE YOU DOING WE HAVE A TEST TODAY

Lorcan: ur gonna laugh at me

Elide: why would i laugh at you im WORRIED for your ACADEMIC CAREER

Lorcan: 🙄 Lorcan: i got the flu

Elide: i Elide: ur joking right

Lorcan: no im rlly sick Lorcan: i have a fever and im tired and this is the worst thing ever Lorcan: i thought the hallucinations would b fun but they’re just weird and creepy Lorcan: im the dumbest boy in school :(

Elide: lmao honey you aren’t the dumbest boy in school

Lorcan: i just wanted a kiss and now im being punished for it Lorcan: the gods are anti-young love

Elide: ohhh you’ll be fine i’ll come by at lunch Elide: i’ll bring you soup and skip my afternoon classes

Lorcan: nope i’ll be dead by then Lorcan: straight up im not living through this the gods need to take me now

Elide: wow you’re dramatic aren’t you Elide: and to think you could’ve avoided all of this if you listened to me Elide: you’re regretting that kiss rn

Lorcan: nahhh nah i’m not taking it back sweetheart Lorcan: i’d do it again

Elide: omg that’s so cheesy ew barf Elide: say something you actually mean

Lorcan: oh wooowwwww i’m cute asf and ur just a hater

Elide: gods you baby Elide: stay alive for two more hours pls i want to see u one last time b4 u die </3

Lorcan: i’ll try my heart Lorcan: pray for me

Elide: <3

<3<3<3

an: uhhhh hehe enjoy ? thats like the first thing ive finished in a month so. yay. elide and lorcan cuteness ! my fave <3

also i am not doing tag lists anymore cause they take too long + i do not post enough to need one i think

[txdoroki]

hey shawty bae 😏 ur vv swag ily. so anyway- confessing to noya 😳... he’s not used to girls even looking his way and u jus CONFESS ?? asf. and tsukki ?? he’s so sarcastic and mean and he’s like “tf?? yes but what???” omg. UHM BASICALLY- confessing to noya & tsukki hcs :) what do u think 🦦

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSS.

confessing to tsukki, noya, and suga hcs

genre : fluff

fem reader | warnings: none | words: 1.2k

a/n : hehe i love this idea almost as much as i love you <3 I GOT CARRIED AWAY OOPS

tsukki

-so you guys were just walking away from the school quietly together because your mutual friend, yamaguchi, wasn’t there that day

-every now and then he’d fire an insult at you, commenting on how lousy your kicks against the rocks on the pavement were, or about how your posture was slouched.

-he pokes more fun at you than everyone else at the school combined, saying some sort of insult directed at you every five seconds

-he loved how you’d always fire right back at him with another insult, a playful glint in your eyes

-even though you both had met off of yamaguchi, you had sort of became friends

-although you didn’t know much about him, his insults seemed to clear the path so you could tell what he liked and such

-after a while, you had gotten an attachment to him

-it was like your heart would skip a beat whenever you saw him, even if he just gave you a glare and nod at you from across the halls rather than actually greeting you

-right now, though, you were both walking together to your home. he’d planned to study at your house, even though he didn’t really need to.

-“i knew you with your stupid brain probably forget the assignment for math, so here,” he pulled some papers from his bag once you both had finally gotten to your room.

-this was way nicer than he had been in a while, and you tried to hide the confusion that was clearly showing across your face

-“um, thanks?” you took the papers and flipped through them, glaring at him when you noticed what he had written in the ‘name’ blank already.

-he had wrote, “lowsy y/n”

-he lost it, laughing so hard that tears were in his eyes when you punched his arm

-“wow what a way to treat someone who’s in love with y-“ you muttered, not exactly realizing what you were saying until you abruptly stopped

-you slapped a hand over your mouth and was like

-i did not just say that.

-he, of course, had heard it.

-although he didn’t say anything for a moment, too busy trying to figure out a way to get rid of the redness that was overwhelming his face

-“um, y/n, what?” he chuckled, pushing up his glasses when they began to slip down his nose.

-mans acted as if he wasn’t a blushy mess when he snorted, “well duh, everyone is anyways, you’re not special,”

-like an hour later when he had finally composed himself, after texting yamaguchi panicking, he asked you out ...

-although mans was so awkward in asking you out it was like you hadn’t just told him you loved him

-he first hugged you two weeks later when you complained about him not giving any affection and he was red for the rest of the day

-HE JUST DOESN’T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED OKAY HES CONFUSED AND LIKE BRRRRUUUUUUHHHH HOW

-ofc that asshole doesn’t stop his teasing

-BUT NOW YALL BULLY PPL TOGETHER LMAO IT’S SO FUNNY

noya

-you both always had been sort of flirty with each other, joking about dating and such

-I MEAN WHO CAN BLAME YOU FOR ACTUALLY DEVELOPING A CRUSH YOU BOTH JOKED ABOUT IT SO MUCH IT FELT REAL

-he’d always rant to you about volleyball and you’d be like ٩( ᐛ )و woo go noya go

-you both always listened to each other’s words like they were some law omg the convos were never dry...

-YOU JUST HAD FEELINGS FOR HIM OKAY AND YOU DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO DOOOOOO

-“the ball came over to me when i wasn’t prepared and i went woosh and it was perfect!!” he moved his hands around to show you what he did, smiling at you

-when you just smiled and nodded at him, he was like wtf

-cuz you usually respond so he was like ????

-“hey, noya, what if i told you you’re so cute when you do shit like this,” you winked at him, laughing.

-that way if he rejected you, you could just say it was a joke even though it really wasn’t ...

-he was just like 🤭🤭 for like ten minutes.

-I MEAN HES NEVER HAD SOMEONE CALL HIM CUTE BEFORE HE DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO REACT~~~

-“noya?” you mumbled when he didn’t even respond for a few minutes

-“for real?” he chuckled, preparing himself for you to say no

-when you nodded he PHYSICALLY JUMPED.

-he smiled 10x harder and literally thanked you

-“what?? you’re so cool, y/n! thanks!”

-mans was so nervous you’d take it back that he asked you out then and there

-although he was really worried his energy was making you uncomfy so he pretended to be like daichi and chilled out a bit

-mans was pacing around his house before the date, nervous to see you

-he kissed your hand at the door which was a bit awkward but ... i mean it gave you a lasting memory so ..

-when he saw how gorgeous you looked he literally teared up a bit???? he was like bro??? you’re so out of my league????

-he was goofy the entire date, and never let go of your hand

-was lowkey trying to play off his nervousness and just say that he was super excited. wasn’t a lie but he was literally ignoring the fact that he was bouncing every step

-he brags about you to his entire team like “look who fell for me and not you!! ha!”

suga

-you guys had already been best friends for years. literally you were both in your third years of high school, but had known him since you were six.

-you’d always been conflicted, because he was sort of. touchy. and it played with your heart strings

-that romantic tension that was apparent in all of your conversations- woo

-it made your heart fly whenever he’d give you huge bear hugs whenever he’d get to see you, since you didn’t go to the same schools

-when he had surprised you in your kitchen when you got home from school that day, it caught you off guard

-you’d planned to confess literally that night

-you were watching a shitty romcom with his arm around your shoulder and his other laying on your leg when you whispered, “do you even like me?”

-“of course i like you, you’re my best fr-“

-“no not like that, suga,”

-he was just quiet for a moment as he paused the movie, turning to face you once it was paused.

-he was just. confused.

-he’d had a crush on your for so long he wanted to pinch himself to see if this was actually reality???

-“well yeah, of course i do,” he chuckled and scratched at his neck, his hand that was on your leg not moving.

-your cheeks were heating up so much, your entire body felt like a sauna.

-he continued the movie after asking you out on a date, of course to a picnic. he loved picnics, especially whenever you’d bring strawberries

-you both facetime like everyday since he lives too far to hang out

-long distance 😔👊

taglist @definitelynottrin @travelbythemoon

taglist form

[mercurysstars]

The Shadow Thief (part 3)

Summary: What happens when Peter has to work with the girl he hates to possibly save the world.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Swearing, Blood, Violence.

A/n: Sorry it took me so long to post again! I’ve wrote like 3 different versions of this chapter because I didn’t know what direction to go in just yet.

_

"Woah, dude. Did you see this?" Y/n held out Peter's phone shoving it in his face.

Y/n had gone over to Peters house early that morning to get the last finishing touches on their project done. So they both reluctantly decided to walk together to school.

Peter snatched his phone out of Y/n's hands as they crossed the street. "How did you even get my phone? It was in my hands." She shrugged and pointed back at the article.

Peter scrolled down the page. Incoming reports say Avengers went on a mission and since gone MIA. How didn't he know about this? And why didn't the Avengers at least tell him they were going to be gone. Peter was confused, to say the least. Were they in trouble? No, they couldn't be they are the earth's mightiest heroes. Right?

"They probably just had to extend their mission and forgot to report back in." Or at least he hoped. He didn't want to think of the latter. He decided after school he would go to the compound and make sure everything was alright.

"If you say so." They walked up the stairs to the second floor of the school.  Peter opened the door and they both walked into English. Y/n took her seat next to Mj and Peter next to Ned.

The thought of the Avengers missing did worry Y/n a bit. She wasn't a big fan of superheroes but she also was not, not a fan. It was complicated. Sure she liked the security of having someone to save the day. But she hated that they pretended to be better than everyone else. They judge criminals as they themselves have never done anything wrong. They tend to blame everything on everyone else and never take responsibility.

Y/n felt a nudge to her arm. She turned her head to face Mj. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"No, no it's alright I'm just thinking," Y/n said. She pulled out her laptop and opened her and Peter's presentation to have it ready just in case they had to go first.

Their opening slide was a picture of Anne Frank surrounded by a pretty border and Anne Frank’s name in cursive in the middle. Peter insisted their project had to look nice and not like some shitty last-minute one like she had originally done. Y/n had teased Peter relentlessly about it saying maybe he should be a graphic designer instead of Spider-Man. And he of course huffed and pretended to ignore her.

"Well, you just looked worried. Anyways tell me if you need any help." Y/n gave Mj a grateful smile. Y/n knew Mj could have this cold, hard exterior but she knew she secretly cared.

The bell rang signaling the first period started. The teacher stood up from her desk and walked to the front of the room clasping her hands together. "Good morning class. Today is the first official day for our presentations. We'll be picking who goes first by random. Any questions?"

One girl toward the front of the classroom stuck up her hand "Yes, Betty."

"Did you see the news? About the avengers?" The class erupted within hushed conversation everyone stating their theories of what happened and their worries.

"Alright, class settle down. I did see but we will continue like normal." She said. It kind of seemed like to Y/n she didn't care at all but she didn't really think anything of it.

The phone rang and the teacher quickly excused herself. Y/n picked at her fingers mindlessly. The teacher muttered a few words into the phone and hung up "Y/n, Peter." Her eyes snapped up at the sound of her name "They want you down in the office. And bring your things."

Y/n furrowed her brows. Her eyes met Peters "What did you do?" He mouthed just as confused as her.

What did she do? What the hell did he do. She hasn't done anything wrong. Well, at least nothing she gotten caught for.  "Dude if anyone did anything it was you! I've only been here for like 3 weeks." She whispered-yelled back.

He put his hands up defensively. Y/n shoved all of her things in her bag and zipped it up. Mj raised an eyebrow at her and Y/n just shrugged with a clueless look on her face.

Y/n walked over to the door opening it with her free hand while her chrome book was in the other.  Peter followed not too far behind. They step out and began to walk down the hallway shoulder to shoulder not a word muttered between them.

The hall was empty. No teacher, no janitor, no late students, not even the common lost freshman. It was strange to Y/n. She turned to Peter "This is weird. It's almost like it's too."

"Quiet." He finished for her. Peter felt off. His spidey sense wasn't alarming him with anything but it was almost like a gut feeling you'd get when some strange guy came up to you at a party being a little too friendly.

"Yeah." Exactly. They continued down the hall both on high alert. When they passed a window Y/n could see two men dressed in suits around the corner through the reflection.

"I think they're following us." She whispered to Peter. Y/n has picked up a thing or two of trying not to be noticed but the men behind them didn't seem like they cared much for subtlety. They had their eyes set on Y/n and Peter taking wide quick steps.

This time his spidey sense went off. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Peter reached for his web-shooters "We need to get out of here."

"You think?" Y/n back said in an aggravated tone. The next time they passed by a window she could see them screw something together slowly by their side.

Y/n glanced down to get a better look, it was a gun. All she could hear was the beating of her heart thumping loudly in her ears. Thinking quickly Y/n shoved Peter into a locker. A bullet whizzed past where his head once was and made a tiny thump when it hit the wall.

His eyes went wide momentarily stunned before he sprung into action. He shot out a web, grabbed the gun out of the man's hand, and flung it across the hall, making sure he couldn't get to it.

The men paused for a minute before muttering something to each other end breaking into a spring toward them. Well mostly at Peter luckily for her but still in her direction. Peter began to fight the one whose gun he had stolen hand to hand. The man got in a punch to Peter's face. Peter tripped him and tied him up with his webs.

The second man was coming toward her. Before she could second guess herself Y/n took her chrome book and slapped the man across the face with it. The man was momentarily shocked and Y/n opened an unlocked locker hitting him in the face. She watched him slide down the lockers unconscious.

More men turned the corner and came down the hallway. Y/n kicked a waist-length garbage can with wheels toward them as a small distraction. Peter grabbed Y/n pulling her into an empty classroom.

Y/n locked the door before she grabbed Peter and dragged him further into the classroom into a supply closet. They both crouched behind a mop bucket leaving the door cracked for a tiny bit of light.

"Would you like to tell me why there's someone outside this classroom trying to blow my brain out!" She huffed.

"Don't ask me. For all, we know they could be after you!" They both flinched as they heard the door handle shake.

"They were attacking you. Shooting at you. And you'd have a bullet in the back of your head if I didn't push you out of the way if I might add." She poked him in the chest.

The men began to start kicking at the door trying to break it down "Maybe if we figure out who they are we can get out of this."

"You know what I have an idea." Y/n reached back and grabbed the gun out of the waistband of her pants. Y/n started not to care much for introductions when they tried to assassinate her. Her motto was to shoot first ask questions later because she was not going down without a fight.

"What the hell Y/n! Where did you even get a gun?" Peter tried to put some distance between them but failed and ended up bumping into a shelf.

"Calm down bug boy I'm not going to shoot you." She rolled her eyes "I grabbed it off the guy while I smashed my laptop over his head."

"You are not shooting anyone!" He exclaimed. He was going to die with a psychopath. A literal psychopath. What would his uncle Ben say if he could see him right now?

"Fine whatever. How many webs do you have left?"

"Only one." He muttered.

"Only one! How the hell do you only have only one web left?" Oh lord. She was going to die in a janitor's closet with an idiot.

"Oh well, I'm sorry I didn't know I would have someone trying to paint the walls with my organs. I must have forgotten to mark it on my calendar!"

"Oh god, Okay." Y/n rubbed her forehead with her free hand.

She took the clip out of her gun and counted the bullets she had. Two. Okay, she could work with that, Somehow. She just had to live long enough to beat Peter up for almost getting them killed.

She turned back to Peter "Alright here's the plan so we are going to jump out of the window and see just how far that web can exactly get us." She could hear the pounds on the door getting more frequent and if she was being honest she was surprised it held this long.

"Are you crazy! You going to get us both killed." He didn't need the answer because he already knew she was. He swore he could see the shadows swirl around her for a moment but as quickly as it was there it was gone.

"Do you have any better ideas because I'm all ears, Parker?" He didn't say anything and just ran a hand through his hair letting out a frustrated sigh.

"That's what I thought." Y/n knew there was a good chance that they get hit by incoming traffic like a bug on a windshield but it was either that or the SWAT team outside.

"Let's get this over with." Said Y/n. They both stepped outside of the closet. The men outside the room gave the door one last kick and it broke off of the hinges. "Go." That was all Peter said.

Y/n shot the window with the two bullets she had. Peter ran over to Y/n and grabbed onto her tightly. They jumped through the window shattering it. Peter shoots out his last web hooking onto a nearby tree. At the peak of the swing, Peter let go of the web. They flew over the traffic narrowly avoiding the cars.

When they finally reached the ground they hit it hard. Peter took most of the impact but Y/n still hit her head. They continued to hold tightly onto each other as they rolled through the grass from the momentum of the swing.

They came to a slow stop and Y/n landed on top of Peter. She slumped off to the side of him and sat up. Peter did the same but with a groan feeling all of the bones in his body.

He noticed blood began to trickle out of Y/n's nose. "You got something." He pointed to her nose.

She wiped under her nostrils with her fingers and then again with the bottom of her shirt without a second thought "Oh, Thanks."

Peter rested his head on his knees. What was he going to do? As much as he didn't like Y/n he felt bad for dragging her into this. "We need to get going they are going to come looking for us soon."

"Where are we going to go?" The light was starting to become too much so Y/n put her hand over her eyes to shield her from the sun. She was starting to get a headache and just wanted to lay down. Peter stood up and dusted off his shirt and pants.

"Avengers compound." He held out a hand to her. She took it and he pulls her up onto her feet. They began to walk toward the street.

"I just don't know how we are going to get there." He added. They made it onto the sidewalk. Y/n was stumbling around so Peter kept his pace slow so she could keep up with him.

Y/n stopped walking "What do you think of this car?" She nodded to a 1997 Honda Accord.

"It's cool I guess." He said confused the car was a little old but he didn't say anything.

"Alright good. Now hand me your web-shooters." She held out her hand toward him.

"Okay?" He didn't really know what she was trying to get at. Peter just assumed she hit her head too hard but he complied anyway.

Y/n crouched down facing the car. She broke his web-shooters over her knee taking out two long curved metal pieces. She handed him back the rest of his broken web-shooters. Peter stared at her wide-eyed as she stuck the two metal pieces into the lock of the car.

"What are you doing." He hissed. Peter walked closer to Y/n trying to cover her as she picked the lock to the car.

"I just gave our problem a solution." She said without looking. She continued to twist the pieces around until she heard a little click. She gave a little cheer and opened the door.

"Yeah by stealing someone's car. Need I remind you is illegal."

" I like to think of it as borrowing. Besides I will happily leave you if you wish." She rolled her eyes. God, her head was throbbing.

Y/n took the plastic cover off of the steering column. There were three sets of wires and she grabbed the middle one. Y/n cut the red and blue wire. She touched the wires together until she heard the car start. She smiled to herself and lastly twisted the wires together.

She turned to Peter "Are you getting in or what?"

Peter looked around and then sighed "Fine, but I'm driving."

"What? No way, you don't even look old enough to drive." She crossed her arms.

"You have a concussion so I'm our best bet at not dying." He gave Y/n a sarcastic smile.

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes but got out of the driver's seat.

"You know if you keep rolling your eyes they are going to get stuck like that." She flicked him off and he laughed.

Y/n basically collapsed into the passengers seat. Peter closed his door and started the car. He pulled into the street and Y/n rested her head against the window. The cool glass felt nice against her forehead. She notice a bruise on Peter's pale cheek from when he got hit earlier.

Every now and again he would glance at Y/n to see how she was doing. He figured she must not feel the best because she hasn't said one witty remark since they got into the car.

He hoped by now the Avengers were back at the compound and could Tell them what's going on and who was following them.

He looked over to her again and she had her eyes close. He jabbed her with his elbow "Hey, don't fall sleep. You might not wake back up."

"Hmm Okay." She said but didn't budge.

"I'm serious Y/n, open your eyes." Peter was starting to get worried. It wasn't that he cared about her. But he didn't know what to do with a dead body. Or at least that's what he told himself.

"Don't get your panties into a bunch, my eyes are open."

They pulled into the road of the compound. When it came into view Y/n suddenly sat up wide eyed "Holy shit."

"What?" Peter took his eyes off of Y/n and followed her line of sight.

"What the fu-"

Part 4

Taglist

@fandom-strumpet • @ginger-swag-rapunzel • @libraries-and-coffee

[delicioussshame]

Socialite AU, last part! I finished a thing! Also posted on AO3 now that it’s done.

Shen Yuan had expected that the beginning of the school year would have kept Luo Binghe too busy for them to see each other more than, oh, about once a month, but it doesn’t seem to be the case. Luo Binghe is obviously very smart, so maybe that’s why he can keep up so easily. His studies sure don’t seem to stop him from having Shen Yuan over at least once a week.

Luo Binghe says it’s because he cannot trust Shen Yuan to feed himself properly, something Shen Yuan himself has profusely denied. First, he’s a fully grown adult, he can cook! Second, if he doesn’t feel like it, he can order in, or pay someone to cook for him. There are no issues there! He doesn’t need to be minded.

Not that he minds being minded. Shen Yuan has eaten more than his share of delicious food, and Luo Binghe’s stands above the rest. There are worst things than travelling to Luo Binghe’s apartment and eating a freshly cooked meal.

They don’t talk about novels as much though. This is an area where Luo Binghe had to step back in favor of reading assigned manuals. Shen Yuan has spent more than one evening reading trash by himself while Luo Binghe sat nearby, throwing the occasional question his way as he studied. Not that it seemed like he needed the help.

When does he see his college friends, Shen Yuan has no idea. Luo Binghe always waves away any concern of his on this matter. Seriously, Shen Yuan is a bit worried. Does he not fit in? It seems impossible that someone as charming, not to mention as affluent, as him would be ostracised. Even Shen Yuan had managed to gather a small group of friends during his college years. Luo Binghe must have done the same, no?

If he hasn’t, his fellow students are missing out.

In that case, Shen Yuan will take him out it their place. It wouldn’t do for Binghe to be lonely.

Not that that’s likely, considering how popular he is in their circle. As far as his female compatriots are concerned, Luo Binghe is now Beijing’s most eligible bachelor.

It’s a role that suits Luo Binghe’s public persona to a tee. He flutters between ladies as if he were born into in, flirting with one and laughing with another one with an ease Shen Yuan cannot help but envy, considering his own limited contacts with the other sex.

If those interactions often ended with a pretend fight between them, neither of them would complain about it. It was fun. Much better than insulting real people and wondering later if he’d gone too far, if he’d seriously hurt someone whose crime had only been to be born in a shitty family and raised in a similarly shitty fashion. He and Binghe sometimes rehearsed lines late into the night before a party, sentences that were meant to be biting insults turning into uncontrollable laughter.

Everything was going well. Shen Yuan’s reputation was becoming so toxic it had been weeks since the last time one of his fellow socialites had dared to speak to him, which is how Shen Yuan liked it. As for Luo Binghe, he was both admired for standing up to mean Shen Yuan, and pitied for always being the receptor of his ire. Binghe was more than talented enough to use all of it to his advantage.

All in all, everything was going perfectly.

Until now. “Excuse me?” says Shen Yuan with the coldest, most disparaging tone he has managed yet.

Sha Hualing, sadly, doesn’t seem impressed. “You can deny it all you want. It’s obvious. It must drive you crazy, seeing him with us and knowing you’ll never have a chance. He’s so good, too. Made me scream so loud I’m sure the neighbors heard. Not that you’ll ever find out yourself. Keep pulling his pigtails. He knows, he’s just too nice to tell how pathetic you are.”

Shen Yuan cannot convey to Sha Hualing how utterly from left field her theory is, and how completely baffled he is, without breaking his carefully maintained aura of disgusted condescension, but he really wishes he could. “You’re insane. How could I be attracted to… that.” He winces in his head. Too much? There are probably zero people that don’t feel at least a little attracted to Luo Binghe in this room.

But if there was one, it would be him. Luo Binghe is his cute disciple and friend, not his meal ticket. Leave that to Sha Hualing and her posse.

Her answering laugh is haughty. “Not even you believe that. Anyway, I just wanted to rub it in, but now that that’s done, I got better things to do than talking to you, like him. Fuck off.”

He flips her off as she leaves. Not his most elegant moment, but not the most elegant situation.

How the fuck did she get into her sick mind that he was into Luo Binghe. She should have thought they hated each other! That they wanted to tear each other’s throats open, not tear each other’s clothes off!

… Holy fuck their characters have ust, haven’t they? Danmei isn’t his playing field, but some things are universal across gender. There is an undeniable pull to seeing two hot people seeming like they’re two seconds away from punching each other when it also seems like they might be two seconds away from… something else.

It’s the only possible interpretation. They haven’t been careful enough, and now their roles are tainted by bad tropes!

Shen Yuan is going to have to adapt his persona a bit. Let himself run even colder. Less hate, more indifference, maybe? Or maybe he could just leave Luo Binghe alone for a few parties.

It wouldn’t work! It would seem like he chickened out after Sha Hualing confronted him! It would make it appear weak!

Could he make up a girlfriend?

Nah, no one would believe it.

Fuck, he’s going to need Luo Binghe’s help on this one.

_________________

“She what!?”

“Thinks I keep picking fights with you because I’m trying to get your attention and that I’d really like for you to bend me over something, probably.”

Luo Binghe blushes bright red.

Shen Yuan restrains his mirth. Nice to see he’s not the only one terribly embarrassed by the situation!

Yes, pinching those red cheeks would only make things worse, but he’s still very tempted.

Shen Yuan soldiers on. “Binghe shouldn’t worry about things too much. His reputation is safe. Considering how well he gets on with the fairer sex,” and yes, now Shen Yuan knows way more than he ever wanted to know about Sha Hualing’s sex life, but that’s life,” no one will doubt him. If he has no idea, I’ll think of something. It’s not his problem.”

“Shizun’s problems are my problems! He wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for me!”

Aww, Binghe, why is your indignation so cute!” Don’t blame yourself. We both agreed to the plan. It’s no one’s fault.”

Luo Binghe looks down, obviously still embarrassed. “I really have no idea where she got that. Shizun never appears to be attracted to me.”

“Who knows how Sha Hualing thinks. She probably watches too much porn.” He wouldn’t be surprised, considering how low-class she acted.

A second later, he catches his mistake. If Luo Binghe is… seeing her, he shouldn’t be that mean to her in his presence. “Sorry for insulting your… friend.” He doesn’t think they’re officially dating? Sha Hualing would never shut up about it, and anyway Luo Binghe wouldn’t have as much time for Shen Yuan if he was serious about someone. It’s probably just hormones raging.

Luo Binghe shakes his head. “Shizun shouldn’t apologise! She’s the one who was this rude! Implying Shizun doesn’t know how to court someone, or that he’d need such a ridiculous approach when a few words would be enough for him to have anyone! What a stupid woman.”

It’s Shen Yuan’s turn to be embarrassed. Luo Binghe is pushing the hero worship a little too far here. He’s got way more experience in that department than Shen Yuan will ever get, probably. “Well, if you don’t like her, maybe choose someone better as a partner? You could have anyone. I know it’s none of my business, and I guess she’s attractive, but really, so are many others who don’t share her… fiery temperament.”

If he were honest, he’d just tell Binghe he deserves better.

Much, much better. Didn’t he see her chatting with Liu Mingyan the other day? Now that’s a woman worthy of his Binghe, almost his equal in all fields.

Not that he needs to find someone just yet. He should take his time, and find someone he likes.

Luo Binghe snorts. “I would never choose her.”

Shen Yuan blinks. “Didn’t you?”

Luo Binghe looks wounded. “Why would you think that? I would never be with someone this cruel to Shizun!”

“But she said… oh.” Shen Yuan is an idiot. Why, why did he, even for a second, believe what that snake said? “Binghe must let me apologise. I’ve been stupid and have believed her when she said you and her were… involved.”

“Shizun mustn’t believe her! She lies!”

Shen Yuan pats Luo Binghe’s back gently. “I don’t! I don’t. She lied. I don’t believe her anymore. Of course Binghe has better tastes than this. I should have known.”

Luo Binghe raises his chin. “I do. I have the best tastes.”

Shen Yuan lets a smile appears on his face. “You do. After all, you have chosen me to guide you.”

Luo Binghe nods with almost comical vigour. “Yes!”

So! Cute! Shen Yuan wants to give him a hug!

He won’t, because he’s the dignified older friend.

Who reads bad online novels, but let’s not linger on that. “So, what do we do about her imagination? Because she cannot keep a secret to save her life, so I expect people will talk about it the next time we attend the same event.”

“…Does Shizun want… a girlfriend?”

What does that have to do with anything. “If I meet the right person, sure. Why?”

“Does it matter what they think? They never cared about Shizun to begin with. Who cares if they think he’s attracted to me. It doesn’t change a thing.”

Well, yes, but. “It makes me look pretty pathetic. It’s not exactly a fun reputation to have.”

“What does?”

“That I want someone and the best thing I can do about it is insulting them? It does make me look like a kindergartener.”

An unholy light appears in Luo Binghe’s eyes. “So what if that wasn’t the best thing you had done?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Shizun feels pathetic because he doesn’t like the idea that people think he wants someone and he doesn’t know how to get them, right? But what if he did?”

Shen Yuan is very confused right now. “Binghe?”

“We knew each other before that first party, right? So I let them know that. We could be bitter exes!”

Shen Yuan looks at him, completely frozen. “Binghe, no.” That is 100% a terrible idea.

“Why not? It would explain everything! Why we’re so mean to each other while I’m nice to everyone else, why you’re worst to me, and why there’s tension between us!”

There is no tension between them! They’re playing characters! “People would think you’re gay!”

“I’ve been flirting with women all the time. People would think I’m bi.”

“You’ve just told me you haven’t been dating! What if they think you’re hung up on me, who, by the way, is a man!”

“Is it that bad? I wouldn’t mind. Shizun is someone I would certainly be hung on if he had left me.”

“So I’m the one who left you now? That makes even less sense! Why would someone like me leave someone like you! Of course Binghe is the one who left!”

“If I were dating Shizun, I would never leave him! He has to be the one who left me!”

Shen Yuan rubs his temples. He knew the conversation wouldn’t be simple, but it has reached unprecedented levels of nonsense. “Let’s forget who left who. We’re not doing that. Binghe would ruin his reputation to only slightly better mine. That makes no sense.”

Luo Binghe pouts. “It would have worked. I would have made a very good ex-boyfriend.”

Shen Yuan pats his back again. “I’m sure you would have. I, on the other hand, would probably have been terrible at it.”

“Why?”

“How could I have pretended to not only have dated Binghe, but to have separated from him? No one would believe it. My talents aren’t up to the task. I can’t make myself look like a plausible boyfriend to Binghe.”

Luo Binghe sighs. “That’s stupid. Shizun might as well have been my boyfriend lately.”

Shen Yuan feels a headache coming. He can barely follow the logic of this conversation. “Binghe, I don’t understand.”

“Shen Yuan spends most of his evenings with me. I cook for him. He takes me out. We’ve been writing to each other for months. He’s been carefully curating my reading lists for most of those months. He has plenty of reasons why I would be dating him.”

Okay, let’s just ignore most of that. “Nothing you listed has anything to do with the character we play for those society functions? High society Shen Yuan probably only reads classic literature, when he’s not working his high-power job and, I don’t know, checking stocks or playing the guqin. Nothing appealing there. How would we have even met?”

“Via work? Maybe you had a meeting with some executive of my father. Considering my reputation, we probably just had sex and ended up dating later on.”

Shen Yuan tries to imagine being the kind of person who would see Luo Binghe and think he could just hit that.

Impossible. Does not compute. “Look, I’m just going to ignore it. It’s always worked before. We probably shouldn’t change it.”

“But things always staying the same is bad! They must evolve!”

Shen Yuan shrugs. “Not necessarily. My life has mostly remained the same since I’ve graduated, and it’s perfectly fine.”

Luo Binghe flinches like a kicked puppy. “Is my arrival so unimportant to Shizun?”

Fuck. “No! That’s not what I meant! I mostly meant my romantic life!” Not really, he meant his life his general, but it is quite insulting to Binghe to imply he had no impact on his life, not to mention just an outright lie.

“That, too, should change.”

“It sure won’t if everyone thinks I’m gay.”

Under Luo Binghe’s breath, barely audible to Shen Yuan, “It’s not exactly an impediment.” Then, louder. “Let’s tell them the truth, then.”

Shen Yuan instantly panics. “Binghe, they can’t know the truth, it’ll fuck everythin-“

And that’s when Luo Binghe’s tongue finds its way into Shen Yuan’s mouth.

Shen Yuan’s mind freezes completely.

Luo Binghe keeps on kissing him.

Shen Yuan’s mind keeps trying to reboot.

Luo Binghe pushes back and sighs. “Does Shizun understand now?”

Nope. “…We can’t be exes if we’re kissing?”

“Forget the exes. Let’s just tell them we’re having sex. That’ll be the true part. We’ll just tell them it’s hate sex. I’ll tell them you’re just that good and I can’t resist you. That way, you won’t be pathetic, right?”

Shen Yuan’s slowly rebooting mind cannot decide if the “reputation for being gay” part would outweigh the “reputation for having seduced Luo Binghe” part.

Wait. “We’re having sex?”

Luo Binghe falters. “If you want to? Because I want to. A lot. But we’re pretty much dating and Shen Yuan didn’t seem to realise, so I thought maybe he’s not attracted to me, but you keep acting like I’m the best thing that ever happened to you when really, the reverse is true, and can we date already? Please?”

Shen Yuan opens his mouth.

Shen Yuan closes his mouth.

Shen Yuan tries to understand that, apparently, Luo Binghe has been trying to date him? Him? Luo Binghe? And him? As a couple? That is a thing that is apparently on the table?

Wait, Shen Yuan actually is a person who could have looked and Luo Binghe and have hit that!?

Woah.

“I…”

Luo Binghe’s eyes grow even wider as he waits for Shen Yuan’s response.

As if Shen Yuan ever had the capacity to tell Binghe no.

As if he ever wanted to. “Okay. Let’s try it.”

A second later, he gets an armful of overenthusiastic Binghe trying to choke him with too much tongue.

“But we’re not playing bitter exes.” Shen Yuan really has no belief in his ability to pretend he left Luo Binghe.

That he had him and is devastated he doesn’t anymore, sure. But that he’d manage to be cruel to Luo Binghe about it? There’s no way.

“That’s fine. I like the one with the hate sex much better anyway.”

To be honest, so does Shen Yuan.

_________________

Shen Yuan positions himself in such a way that he can track Luo Binghe’s movements across the room without looking like he’s doing more than reading on his phone.

He can tell from Sha Hualing’s particularly vicious grin that she’s about to deliver what she considers to be a crippling blow to his reputation.

He thrills when the expression melts, replaced by horror as Luo Binghe’s face turn sheepish. He can almost hear his embarrassed tone as he admits to the moral failing that is sleeping with Shen Yuan, universal pariah.

He can distinctly hear the cries of dismay and what he knows are roars of utter jealousy.

None of it shows on his face, but Shen Yuan grins.

[loser-writings]

Pleeeeease since you did Mirio can you do Omega Tamaki and Omega Aizawa ^0^

(Of course! I knew it was a matter of time before I got asked to do Aizawa so I kind of went all out

Shouta Aizawa

 (TW: Mention of Teen Pregnancy and Miscarriage)

Nobody in class 1A had known that their homeroom teacher was an Omega, but looking back on it, it made sense. He was fierce when it came to protecting his students and made it clear that he would give up everything in order to keep them safe. His scent of coffee was just something the students had gotten used to, not considering it to be the scent of an omega since it wasn’t stereotypically sweet, and when you thought about it, that sleeping bag he carries everywhere may be his form of a nest since he clearly is rather too lazy to make a proper nest, or too lazy to clean it up when he has to put it away.

His low testosterone caused by being an omega also explains his overall lack of energy since lack of testosterone in males often causes sleeping issues, and even sleep apnea. Because of the downsides of being an omega, he takes testosterone injections at the cost of his fertility. Yes, he decided after high school that if he were to be a hero, he would need testosterone, but his doctors do say that if he ever decided to have kids, he could stay off of it for a while and let his body go back to how he used to be. He would experience a heat cycle (Another thing he hasn’t had to deal with for years) and then could start attempting. For now though, that was completely out of the question just because of his past. Something nobody knew about.

Despite his friends' attempts to set him up with somebody, everyone seemed to run away after hearing about his infertility and lack of desire for kids. He never really blamed them since he knew everybody wanted that ideal lifestyle. Get a mate, possibly get married too, have a kid and grow old. Yet here he was, choosing not to have kids because he wasn’t sure if he could handle it.

He sighed softly seeing Hizashi with a very familiar look on his face. “What do you wan-” “I found the perfect alpha for you! Seriously Sho, the best part is that they already know you too!” Shouta instantly rolled his eyes and looked back down at the tests he was grading. “And who might that be?” The second your name left the loud blonds’ lips, Shoutas’ eyes opened a bit wider than they usually did. 

You were in his class with Hizashi, so you both used to be close. Really close actually. When Hizashi noticed the others' silence, he cheered because he hadn’t protested to the idea yet. “Come on Sho! They’re relocating here since they got a new batch of heroes in Tokyo, and they got tired of it being a competition.” The Omega hummed and sighed, sitting up a bit. “Don’t call it a date, that is the last thing I want right now, but let them know I do want to meet up. It’s been a long time, and I want to see where they’re at now.”

Hizashi cheered again and quickly ran out of the room, Shouta assumed to tell Nemuri, leaving the Omega to his own thoughts. He sighed softly and laid his head down on the desk for a moment as memories came flooding back. Specifically the ones during the summer between 2nd and 3rd year. Neither of you had told anybody, but you were courting. 

Late night dates in downtown Tokyo resulted in hours of the two of you hopping from hidden cafe to hidden cafe, enjoying each other as you used each other to forget about stress. Sneaking into each others bedrooms to cuddle and talk resulted in the both of you getting caught and scolded by your parents, but neither cared since they knew they would do it again. 

Then it came back to his memory. The night where he had a nightmare about Oboro and went to seek you for comfort. It only ended up with you both going too far, yet at the time neither regretted it. It wasn’t until he sat in Recovery Girls office that he regretted what he did.

A hand slipped across his stomach and he shut his eyes as he gripped his shirt. Nobody ever knew except for you, and his omega wanted nothing more than you the second Hizashi said your name. His scent went from strong coffee, to burnt as he remembered hearing the news that the baby, the one neither of you had planned for, wasn’t there anymore. After that, he pushed you away and tried to avoid you by focusing only on his goal to become a hero. He never coped with any of it, just pushed it back down to ignore, but it was all coming back to him.

The students seemed to notice the horrible smell coming from Aizawa, but not one dared to mention it in fear of him snapping at them. At the end of the day, Midoriya seemed to pack up a little slower than usual and waited for everyone to leave before approaching his teacher. 

“M-Mr. Aizawa, Are you okay?” He asked softly to the man who rested on his desk. He slowly sat up and looked at the other, seeing how he seemed to tremble under the intense gaze. “No, but don’t worry. I just have to deal with something that I completely neglected.” He slowly stood up and grabbed the sleeping bag before sighing. “Midoriya,” The boy hummed, wondering what the other would say. “Thank you for checking on me.” Aizawa walked past him and ruffled the green locks as he left the room. Midoriya couldn’t help but smile. He smelled like normal coffee again.

When he got home, his Omega told him to clean himself so he at least didn’t look undesirable. He huffed, telling himself he wasn’t trying to be desirable, yet he did so anyway. He showered, trimmed up his stubble, and put on some nicer clothes. Nothing crazy, just a black long sleeve and some grey jeans. Once he had finished, he had realized how much effort he was putting into his appearance and sighed softly, upset because he was ignoring what his Omega wanted.

He felt himself growing anxious as he headed towards his destination only to scoff a bit as it was a little hole in the wall. You would easily pass this place if you didn’t know what it was. As he walked closer, he saw you standing there. You were obviously as anxious as he was, but you didn’t hide it as well. You never did. 

The second your eyes met, his Omega was scratching at his chest, yelling at him to run into your arms, but he kept himself calm as he approached you. When you opened your arms cautiously, he carefully slipped into your hug before subconsciously snuggling into your scent gland like he had done years ago. He pulled away after saying hello and followed as you walked inside.

The date itself was pretty awkward at first since you both knew a lot about each other already, yet almost nothing at all. He watched as he picked up on all of your nervous habits, smiling a little when he realized that you were still so similar to how you used to be. “Do you want to hold my hand?” He asked without thinking since it was something he knew would help calm your nerves. You instantly nodded and took it before smiling a little. “They’re still so rough. Do you even know what lotion is?” You joked a little, happy to see that it made the other grin a little. “I kind of forget about it until one of my students brings some in. Normally it smells disgusting though, so I had to start threatening them with extra homework if they bring in things that gave me a headache.”

That started the conversation of UA and how you were surprised when Hizashi said that he was a teacher. “You’ve always been a natural teacher though. I know you taught me a lot when we were together.” You spoke freely before tensing up when you realized your words. Aizawa sighed a little and squeezed your hand softly. “Yeah...You taught me a lot too.”

Another round of silence before you spoke again. “Hizashi also said that every date he or Nemuri set you up on failed miserably.” Shouta only smiled a little before nodding. “Majority of them were Alphas who only wanted to mate with a pro-hero. My guess is in hopes of having strong kids. Most left during the date once they found out I didn’t want kids or that I take testosterone since that also pretty much renders me infertile.” This time you held his hand a little tighter. “Well they don’t know what you went through. Not only that, it’s your body. Since that is what you wanted, that is what you did and you shouldn’t be treated badly because of it.” 

He noticed how you seemed upset by him saying that they just left and couldn’t help but smile a little. “It makes sense to me. Why would anyone want an Omega who destroys what makes them an Omega?” You scoffed at his words and rolled your eyes. “You aren’t destroying anything, Shouta. You are doing what you need to in order to be comfortable. There is nothing wrong with that.” 

His omega purred at your words, the first time he purred since high school, and squeezed your hand softly. “You haven’t changed at all.” He chuckled and rested his other hand on top of yours before sighing. “Neither have you. It’s nice knowing I don’t have to live up to some shitty hero expectation.” He hummed before nodding in agreement. 

“I assume you’ve been on some courting dates as well?” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Those weren’t shit compared to what we used to do. All they would do is complain about me not matching my hero persona and then want me to pay the bill after they spend hundreds of dollars on food.” He chuckled seeing you ramble. “They all thought because I’m a hero that I’m made of money. I have money because you taught me to save it and not spend it all the second I got my paycheck, not because I’m a hero.” 

After a bit at the cafe, you suddenly got an idea. “Sho, let's go run around the city for a bit?” He tilted his head as he sat down his empty drink. “We aren’t kids anymore-” “No, I get that, but one night. Let’s run around as if we were for one night.” He looked at your excitement and melted, feeling his omega begging him to agree. “Fine. Only because I don’t have to work tomorrow.” Seeing you cheer and stand up made him grin a bit. When you went to pay, he tried to fight over paying the bill because “You weren’t made of money” but you just flicked his head softly and told him to hush. He smiled one more time before giving in and letting you pay.

He let you drag him around the city and he couldn’t believe he was admitting this, but this was the most fun he or his omega had in a long time. Getting ice cream at 10pm, tasting random food from the vendors on the streets, window shopping, even sneaking into a drive in movie theater and renting a radio so you both could sit together and watch the movie. It made him feel young. 

It was almost sunrise and you both were walking along the beach, smiling and laughing like old times. Like how it was when you both were courting in high school. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the fact that you had scented him extremely well, but he was as giggly and happy as could be. The cool water washed past his feet, pants rolled up to make sure they wouldn’t get wet, and you hummed, feeling him squeeze your hand softly.

“Hey Shouta?” He hummed softly before grinning at you. “Thank you for agreeing to come out with me. I was really scared when Hizashi offered to push you in my direction, especially after everything that happened in our past, but I hope that we can recover what we once had.” His omega purred again causing him to press a hand to his rumbling chest. “Yeah...No problem. I should thank you for getting me out of the house. If I’m not there, I’m in the school, so I guess I did need a break from that.” You grinned and squeezed his hand. “You always have avoided things by working. Sometimes you need to take a moment to just stop and relax. Remind yourself that everything happens for a reason, and that you’re alive. That in itself is something to be grateful for.” 

He hummed in agreement before sighing softly, looking out to see that the sun was rising. “I can’t tell you the last time I stayed up this long.” He admitted. You hummed in agreement before sighing. “I guess I should take you home, huh?” He instantly let out a whine at the thought before looking at his chest with a red face. “Come on, stop actually doing stuff and go back to sleep.” he mumbled to his omega before you laughed. “It’s cute Sho. I miss hearing your omega make noises like that.” You kissed his cheek which made him turn dark and his omega to purr once more. He glared at you a little and sighed. “You’re so lucky. If it were anybody else, I would’ve left a long time ago.” 

You chuckled before turning around to walk back to where you came from, pulling him behind you. “Come on, Sho. We need to sleep.” He huffed softly but nodded, moving to rub his tired eyes. 

He led you to his apartment before stopping outside. “Have you already found a place to stay yet?” “Not quite. Currently staying at a hotel until I can fin-” “Want to move in with me?” He asked abruptly. “I mean...It’ll make rent cheaper and it’ll stop you from wasting anymore money.” You could only chuckle before taking his hands and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Only if you agree to not be a picky eater-” “I was not a picky eater when we were togethe-” “Don’t even try me, I had to convince you to eat real food.” “Okay and your point?” 

You both couldn’t help but smile and you sighed. “Fine, I’ll move in with you tomorrow...Or I mean I guess today, but we need a nap since I kept your ass up.” He hummed and nodded. “Fine then.” He opened the door and took your hand, pulling you in after him. “Sho, what are-” “We are taking a nap together. I’ve always slept better with you.” 

Tamaki Amajiki 

(Mention of heats, harassment, and implied NSFW)

Someone please tell this boy that being an Omega hero is okay. He often feels pressured by society to fit into the soft, omega role that everybody seems to want. Yet with the help of Mirio and Nejire, he easily became one of the big 3 in UA.

Yet when it came to talking to others, especially in crowds, he felt himself grow anxious and even slightly panicked. His normal sweet yet salty scent would turn to smell more like fish during these times. This was when most Alphas would scoff in disbelief at the fact this omega seemed to be one of the big three. 

Besides Mirio and Nejire, there was one other person he found himself able to talk to due to years of knowing each other. You were an alpha who never raised your voice or got irritated by his bashfulness. In fact, you would go out of your way to show your patience and kindness by doing little things when his anxiety was getting bad. Ordering for him at restaurants, letting him hide behind you when he started to tremble, and quickly getting him away from social situations that could cause him to have an anxiety attack were just a few of the ways you showed how much you cared.

This was one of those moments. He was out with you, Mirio, and Nejire when he heard them. The alphas behind him that were starting to comment about him being an Omega in a group of three alphas. 

“Must be a Knot licker to keep three alphas to himself.” “Don’t you know that the proper term for a bitch like that is a Puppymill?” Tamaki felt himself whimper and grabbed your arm, holding you tighter as they continued on with their comments. You hummed softly, feeling him start to tremble. “In front of me baby, come on.” Your arm wrapped around him and softly pushed him in front of you, yet the comments continued. 

Your alpha had started growling, scent starting to burn. Mirio and Nejire took notice and turned to see the Alphas snickering to themselves. “B-Baby don’t-” “Tamaki I don’t like how they’re talking-” “I know but...please ignore them. I’m not worth a fight.” You glared at him as he gave a sympathetic smile. You huffed softly and wrapped your arms around his waist. “It’ll be okay guys. Let’s just get our food and we can leave. Maybe a movie night would be fun?” “Yeah! Maybe we can watch something like shark tale! Right Amajiki?” Nejire spoke happily and the Omega couldn’t help but feel thankful for his friend group at that moment, but he then noticed your grip leave his hips as your sent burned ten times more. 

Your temper was getting the best of you and before the others could say anything, you grabbed both men by their heads before slamming them together. “Will you two Knotheads shut the fuck up?! You’re making Omegas uncomfortable with your disgusting language.” Mirio was quick to start pulling you away as the two Alphas began to growl. “Come on, the last thing Amajiki would want is a fight, now stop it-” “They wouldn’t stop making comments-” “Yeah welcome to lose-tie knotheads.” He moved to sit you in front of him and Nijire, who was holding the Omegas hand to keep him calm. 

After you all left the store, you stopped for a moment and shook your head. “Don’t you fuckin-” “Hey!” One of the guys from before started walking towards you. Tamaki instantly started to tremble as the men walked closer, yet you stood without wavering. “What.” you said bluntly. “That shit you did back there? Not fuckin’ cool”

“Oh but harassing Omega’s is?” Nejire spoke before they barked at her. “Shut the fuck up Cat-Pole.” “Cat-Pole?!” You growled once again and they just smirked. Mirio simply hummed and walked beside you before pressing his hand on your shoulder, a simple gesture to them but a secret code between the two of you.

You hummed and turned back to the other two, slipping an arm around them both as you walked down the street. “W-What was that-” Then there was the yelling before Mirio skipped back with you all happily. “Took care of that!” He cooed as you all continued to walk. Tamaki blushed slightly before noticing how your hand stayed on his waist. 

When you all got back, Tamaki excused himself. He claimed not to be hungry anymore since the alphas had upset his stomach, but you knew the real reason. You told the other two about your plan and they hummed happily, letting you leave after the tall omega.

“Tama~” You called as he stopped outside of his door. “O-Oh...Is there something you need?” You nodded and held out your hand. “Come to my room for a sec okay? I have some things for you that I didn’t have time to give you.” He blushed slightly at the idea of getting something from you, but nodded. His hand slipped softly into yours as he walked behind you to your room. 

He instantly purred the second he walked in. It always was comforting in your room, and it made him accidentally chirp. He instantly blushed dark and whimpered, covering his mouth with his spare hand. “You’re alright Tama. Sit on my bed, Okay? The stuff is in my closet.” 

He carefully sat down, huffing as he started rubbing at his neck. He was one of the few Omegas who couldn’t take suppressants due to them messing with his quirk, so he knew what was happening. He had attracted those alphas because his heat was about to start any moment now. He was about to hide in his nest right before you pulled him away.

He tried to focus on anything besides how strong the scent of saltwater taffy was becoming, huffing softly as he moved to shrug off his sweater since he knew he was going to start soon. Another soft whimper came from him and you darted out of the closet. “Sorry baby, I lost one of the items. I know you’re getting uncomfortable but I wanted to give you these for your heat.”

He let out another whimper as he moved to sit on his legs instead of his ass, huffing as he quickly started digging in the bag to pull out what you wanted to him to see. He was nervous because out of the three alphas, he grew closest to you and was hoping it was a courting gift even if it was a bit late. He only gasped when he pulled out a hand crochet octopus, smiling at it and hugging it tight to his chest. “T-Thank you, Alpha.” he called out before hiding his face in the toy. 

You simply hummed and moved to stand. “That isn't all of it, but your heat is coming faster than I thought. Come on, you can open the rest in your room” He nodded and felt you move to pick him up. He gasped and held onto you as you rushed him back to his room. The other gift was in your hand, but you could only focus on how amazing Amajiki smelled. Of course you knew why, but you held back as you looked for his nest, finding it on the floor in the corner of his room. You carefully sat him down and he quickly climbed in his nest, nose shoved deep into the toy as he trembled. 

“Here Omega.” You laid the blanket at the edge of the nest, making sure not to enter without the others permission. He let out a whimper and sat up slowly to grab the blanket. He held it close to his chest and smiled, still trembling like a leaf. “I-I love them, Alpha.” He chirped again which only made you smile. “I’m glad...I wanted to court you before your heat, but I was really late.” 

Hearing that made his eyes water before he crawled to you, sitting up to wrap his arms around you and hug you tight, scenting you completely in his thick and heavy scent. You only grinned and pecked his neck which made him gasp. “You smell like the Ocean Tama. I love it.” 

His omega purred before he moved to pull you a bit. “Alpha...Stay with me?” he mumbled softly as he tried to get you to crawl in his nest. You knew what he was implying and you only smiled, pulling away slightly. “You sure baby? I haven’t even taken you on a date.” He instantly nodded with no shame at all. “Please Alpha. I want you to help me.” Your alpha chuffed which made you blush and Tamaki snort before hiding in your neck.

“Okay Omega. I’ll stay with you.” He purred loudly and held you tighter as you carried him to the door so you could shut and lock it properly. “Thank you Alpha...I love you.” He chirped out with pink cheeks. You only smiled as you carried him back to the nest and pecked his lips before resting him in his nest. “I love you too. Omega.” He chirped again happily before pulling you down with him. 

He threw a leg over your stomach and snuggled into your scent gland, humming happily at how your scent was starting to become stronger in reaction to his. “Oh...I’m sorry in advance.” He whispered and moved to start kissing on you. “Why is that?” he blushed darker and moved to hold your hand. “I uh...might get needy.” You only grinned and pecked his lips once more. “It’s your heat. I’m right here to help you. Do whatever you need, alright Omega?” He purred once more at you calling him that before he sighed happily, melting into your arms. “Alright...I’m going to take a nap...Y-You should too.” You only pulled him closer before nodding. “Okay baby, rest now. Goodnight.”

[taetaespeaches]

“The displeasure was mine.”

hoseok x reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 1.8K

a/n: Hi lovelies! This is Hobi and Petal/reader’s first meeting and well Petal is not impressed. But also, she’s intrigued. And secretly fond. But mostly annoyed. And Hobi is just happy and fond and he enjoys teasing her and yeah, it’s fluff but also idk what it is. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :)) 

IT was just a comment. Or a question rather. It shouldn’t have set you off the way it did, but the way it was asked, with complete lack of knowledge of who you really were and a total misunderstanding of your personality, it was… annoying.

Maybe it was also the way in which he asked the question. Stringing the words together through that sunshine grin he’d been flashing to everyone since he arrived.

More likely than not, it had everything to do with the fact that you had a shitty day and weren’t in the mood for partying, but had promised your friend that you would make an appearance, and was instantly reminded of that the second you tried to back out from coming. That was probably to blame.

But this man, irksomely handsome and optimistic, and for some reason on a mission to cheer you up, just had to ask you the question that was now grating on you as you mustered a tight smile in response to his bright one.

“Why are you so serious?”

That was it. That was all he asked.

You stared at the man for a total of three seconds before giving him the tiniest forced smile, knowing full well it relayed your annoyance.

“Do I know you?” You finally asked, the man’s eyes widening as he slowly shook his head.

“I believe this is the first time we’re meeting,” he replied, a bit more nervous than his initial question to you. He sat on the arm of the sofa that was perpendicular to the loveseat you were seated on.

“Right,” you nodded a couple times. “So why are you asking me about my mood as if we’ve met before?”

The handsome man simply stared at you for a split second before his smile widened once more, his almond-shaped eyes turning to crescents with his unflinching cheerfulness. “Well, I’m Hoseok,” he told you, holding a hand out to shake.

Scoffing at him, you looked down at his hand before meeting his gaze again. However, you noticed the knowing expression on his face as he took in the slight curve up on your lips that unwelcomingly appeared on your own face.

“Hoseok,” you repeated. “You’re the idol.” You had heard about the man before through your mutual friend who went to school with Hoseok. He cocked his head at you in excitement that you’d heard of him before. “You have an idol look,” you noted, the man giggling at the comment. Why did his laugh have to be so cute?

“What does that mean?” He asked curiously, the smile still planted on his features, not quite as wide but equally as bright.

“Handsome,” you shrugged, watching how that smile morphed into a boastful one as he shot you an arrogant look. Oh jesus.

“You think I’m handsome?” He asked, raising his eyebrows slightly, relishing in the compliment.

Looking at him with a judging expression, you looked away from him to scan the rest of the room. “Looks aren’t everything.”

As he chuckled in amusement you rolled your eyes, looking back to him. The annoyance you felt toward the man probably had nothing to do with Hoseok himself and everything to do with your poor mood, but suddenly it felt like your heart was pounding against your chest out of irritation. It had to be irritation.

However, despite the bothersome presence of the dude who seemed to be the actual embodiment of the sun, you found that your eyes were drawn to him. Before he approached you from across the party, you’d been watching him conversate with the other partygoers. It seemed like there was a spotlight that followed him across the room.

You had watched how he made the rounds, chatting with anyone and everyone, making it his goal to evoke laughter from them all. His bright enthusiasm appeared to be an act of service, as he tried to leave each individual happier than when the conversation first started. He seemed to get a high from entertaining the party. Like he wanted people to like him, or felt like it was his duty to provide cheer everywhere he went.

“Are you at least going to tell me your name so I know who had the complete displeasure of meeting me?” He joked, the comment nearly earning a genuine chuckle from you, but you held it back, instead just letting your mouth spread into a smile. “Ah, she smiles.”

“Occasionally,” you joked back. “Displeasure, I like that,” you added before telling him your name. “And yes, the displeasure is mine,” you smirked. Looking down at his hand, you realized he was still holding it out for you to shake, the smallest of breathy laughs leaving you. “Wow, you are persistent.”

“I’ll just leave it there, no pressure,” he told you, and you couldn’t help but smile a little longer.

“What’s your stage name, Idol Hoseok?” You suddenly asked, not even sure why you asked the question. Why did you care?

Twitching his head to the side quickly, he smiled at you. “You know,” he started, “I’m more than just an idol.” Though the words were said in a lighthearted tone, it felt as though they were cloaking a sentiment that may have touched on a bit of the man’s vulnerability. In fact, the overall cheerful demeanor, as genuine as it appeared, also seemed to be a mask or a shield of some sort, keeping people at a distance from the man underneath. As annoying as he was, he was intriguing.

“Mhmm, of course,” you told him dismissively.

Letting out a light chuckle, he shook his head. “J-Hope. That’s my stage name,” he told you.

“Oh, fitting,” you told him genuinely, completely understanding the name. Anyone who met Hoseok for even a few seconds surely understood why ‘hope’ was part of his stage name.

“Yeah?” He asked, acting just the slightest bit cocky once again. “Are you feeling more hopeful right now?”

“Mmm,” you hummed in feigned thought. “I’m hopeful this conversation might end soon. Does that count?”

Again, the man had the audacity to flash you that literal sunshine of a smile. “Well, hope is hope,” he told you through the smile. The comment once again had you letting out a small breathy laugh as you fought a smile, nodding at him. “Did you know that you are a very pleasant person to be around?” he asked teasingly.

“Yeah, it’s actually one of my stronger qualities,” you told him sarcastically.

“It must be right up there with friendly and approachable,” he joked back, making you once again have to hold back a laugh.

“Exactly,” you nodded. “That’s usually how people describe me.” Hoseok stared at you for a moment with a… fond smile. Why did he appear fond?  

“I’m sure,” he said simply, giving you a small smile. “You know you’re allowed to have fun at these things, right?”

“Who said I’m not having fun?” You questioned while cocking your head to the side.

“Well, your face,” he told you through a small smile.

“Ok, but like I pointed out already, you don’t even know me,” you reminded the man, his eyes immediately widening in panic.

“No, I-”

“You can think whatever you want about me, Hoseok,” you interrupted his scrambling for an explanation for his comments. You’d heard all the comments before about you being stuck up or moody or boring, Hoseok wouldn’t be the first or last to person to have that opinion of you. He was just one of the first who actively tried to cheer you up, and for some reason, the endearing sentiment of that action was angering.

“I don’t have an opinion-”

“Also, I don’t need you to try to cheer me up,” you added, glaring at the man. “I’m quite content in all my moodiness.”

“Look, I’m sorry if I offended-”

“No, don’t apologize,” you shook your head. “It’s fine, I just think you and I don’t really complement each other very well,” you told him bluntly, the man’s eyes widening in surprise.

“Well, maybe I beg to differ,” he commented, you letting an annoyed smile toy on your lips as his mouth curved into a smirk, almost as if he was accepting a challenge.

Pulling your eyebrows together in confusion at his expression, you stood up to leave the party you didn’t want to attend in the first place. “Thanks for the frustrating but slightly entertaining conversation, Hoseok,” you prepared to bid him farewell. Reaching your hand out, Hoseok giggled at the gesture, placing his own hand in yours. He squeezed your hand, the feeling of his warm soft hand against your own causing your heart to race once again. Um, what the fuck?

“Nice to meet you,” he told you with that infuriating smile that you couldn’t look away from.

“The displeasure was mine,” you replied, the man laughing once again, his mouth wide open as he let the amusement flow through him freely. Annoying. And definitely not just because it was way too cute for someone you were supposed to be irritated by.  Pulling your hand from his, you took a step away from him before meeting his gaze again. “Maybe if I’m unlucky enough I’ll see you around again,” you smirked.

You were met with his smile once again, as cheerful as ever. It seemed as though he knew he could get under your skin by being overly bubbly in your presence when you were throwing nothing but insults and unpleasantries.

“Already looking forward to it,” he teased, you rolling your eyes before finally walking away.

Hoseok watched as you crossed the room, walking up to your friend and telling her something, probably letting her know you were heading out.

He observed you as you smiled brightly at the mutual friend, adorably scrunching your nose as you giggled at something she said. A feeling of affection as well as a jealousy settled in his chest. You were stunning, cute, and surprisingly warm, but he wanted that directed toward him.

Scanning the room one last time as the friend talked to you, Hoseok smiled and gave you an arrogant head nod when your eyes landed on him. Blinking a couple times at him with a judging expression, you looked away from him, Hoseok chuckling to himself on the arm rest.

Continuing to stare at you, unable to look away, he watched as you hugged the friend and made your way to the front door. Just as Hoseok was about to look away from you to direct his attention to the partygoers who all seemed a bit less interesting after meeting you, you surprised him by looking back one more time.

With your eyes locked on one another’s, Hoseok gave you a small genuine smile as you resisted the urge to smile back. And with that, you left the apartment, but you stayed firmly in Hoseok’s mind.

And he didn’t think you’d ever leave.

[the-final-sif]

My head produced a scene, basically what happens after the ending to my blue core Katsuki vs Overhaul post where Dabi captures Katsuki after Katsuki defeated Overhaul. The whole fight/fights were broadcast out, and the heroes get free too late to stop Dabi from taking the heavily weakened Katsuki.

So, the LOV/PLF now have Katsuki. He’s still heavily weakened and injured, but they patch him up as best they can and he’s put on painkillers, which have the added benefit of keeping him hazy so escaping his harder for him. 

Aizawa is losing his fucking mind, as are a lot of class 1-A, but unlike before they have no leads on where Katsuki is, given that the league now has way more resources to keep him hidden.

Or at least, they think they have no leads.

Hawks, a double agent, is working on fixing that. Sort of. It doesn’t take him long to find out where Katsuki is. The league is wary about letting him have any information on the matter, but Hawks is a charmer and convinces them he just likes the kid and wants to be sure he’s okay.

Finally, Hawks gets down to where Katsuki is being kept. He’s meant to stay quiet so Katsuki doesn’t notice him. That was his plan anyways.

His plan did not involve a wide eyed Dabi being in the cell already.

Katsuki is high on painkillers, gaze bleary as he recounts his mother’s anger and blame after the last time he got kidnapped. His words are slurred and voice quiet, sad, weak. Towards the end of his story, he refocuses, red eyes seeming to see Dabi again, for just long enough for him to get out a single sentence.

“Guess you'd understand what that's like, huh Touya?”

And then he’s passed out. Leaving Hawks and Dabi both equally stunned and confused.

Dabi recovers first, pushing his way out of the cell almost in a frenzy, brushing past everyone else to get up to the roof. Desperate for fresh air and to be alone. He is not alone. Hawks is stunned for several seconds longer, but once he regains himself, once all the puzzle pieces fall into place, he’s surging after Dabi, frantic to not lose him. Not again.

When Hawks gets to the roof, Dabi is on the far side of it, sitting on the edge with his legs dangling off the side. The door was silent, Hawks was silent, Dabi is not looking at him. That doesn’t stop Dabi from speaking the moment Hawks pauses in indecision.

"I know you're there."

Throwing on a smile Hawks tries to play it off, stepping forward as if nothing is wrong. As if this doesn’t change everything.

"Hey, uh, sorry, didn't mean to intrude, I just saw you and you looked kinda upset-"

"Don't lie to me, spy. I know who you are. I know you heard him."

Hawks blood freezes, but Dabi's made no move to attack him, so he steps a little closer against his better judgment. He’s not afraid. How could he be?

"... So I'm guessing the kid got it right?"

"... Go away."

"That's a yes then."

Hawks is still a few steps back, and he's got so many mixed emotions but in the end, he's a hero. He does what he does best. Besides, there’s no way he could walk away from this. Not again.

"Listen, I don't know what hap-"

"Fuck off. I'm not doing this. I'm not someone you can save, Hawks. Don't waste your time. Just take the kid and go. I figured out you're a spy, your cover was blown, blah blah, so you didn't have any other choice but to cut your losses and save who you could."

Hawks' eyes soften, hesitation slipping away as he steps forward, hopping up onto the roof's edge to sit next to Dabi. They’re sitting too close together, but Dabi doesn’t try to move away despite his words. Both their gazes look out over the horizon as Hawks tone shifts to something regretful.

"I can't save him."

That gets Dabi to look at him, blue eyes angry and accusing.

"The fuck are you talking about? You could cut those damn chains and be gone before the damn alarm even sounds."

His words, an odd hostile vote of confidence, only serve to make Hawks' expression fall further into soft apologetic sadness.

"You’re right, I could do that, but I can't save him.” He pauses for a moment. “I figured out his location two days ago. I've been lying to the Commission about it since I found out. I’m going to keep lying to them about it."

Now Dabi just looks confused, eyes narrowed and face scrunched up as he tries to figure out Hawks’ game.

"Why the hell would you do that? What's stopping you from just taking his ass back to his shitty high school?"

Hawks' voice turned cold, eyes hallow. He looks more defeated than Dabi had ever seen him, which isn’t saying much. But he also looks more defeated than Touya had ever seen him, and that says a lot more.

"Because if I bring him back, if any hero brings him back, he won't be returning to UA. At all."

Then after a beat, almost as an afterthought, Hawks continued. There’s too casual a tone to his words, as if he’s on the news giving an update on a bad situation while trying not to let his mask break.

"The Commission saw the broadcast. Everyone did. Everyone saw a 16 year old unleash the equivalent of a small nuclear weapon in under 10 seconds. According to one of his classmates, the kid can do it with no real prep and a 12 to 24 hour recovery. No long lasting damage if the attacks are spaced out enough. After the Commission saw that, they gave me new orders."

It takes a moment for Dabi to process that. He's almost gaping at Hawks in horror and revulsion. Hawks doesn’t need to say what his orders are. Both of them already know what the Commission does.

"They can't- I mean I know they'd fucking try it, but UA wouldn't give up one of their best students. Fuck, that homeroom teacher of his wouldn't put up with that shit."

"His parents already signed the forms. Hardly took anything to convince them. UA has no legal ground to stop anything.”

Dabi tries a different approach, still unwilling to believe it.

"It wouldn't work. He's too old, you know how stubborn that damn kid is. I can tell you for a fact we aren’t gonna be able to break him, and they sure as hell won’t either."

"They can. They’ll make it work. One way or another.”

That’s all Hawks has to say, both of them know how true it is.

“The public wouldn’t-”

Hawks barks out a laugh, and it is an ugly, angry sound of resentment.

"They've got it all planned out, No matter what state he's in when he's recovered, the story is he got brainwashed by you lot and required a specialized recovery program along with extensive therapy. That excuses the personality change and sudden cooperation. UA can't do shit about it, even with their PR influence, they let the kid get kidnapped twice and the public is already upset with how they’ve handled him."

Hawks' gaze turns bitter and his voice is near venomous.

"The Commissions’ already got a new name picked out for him and everything. ‘Firecracker’ because they thought it'd ‘create positive associations’ and ‘make him more marketable to children’."

Both of them need a moment after that. Dabi looks away, furious now. Hawks takes a deep breath and gives him a watery grin of helplessness.

"Like I said, I could get the kid out of here, but I can't save him."

Dabi takes a deep breath too. Then another. His anger focuses, turning from unfiltered rage to a targeted fury. He knows what Hawks was saying now. Knows just how this story goes. How it’s already gone. But things are not the same as they were back then, and Dabi is sick of this fucking story.

"Alright. So, the kid can't go back until those fucks are out of the way. We're sitting on the roof of a fucking villain organization that's already trying to bring down the government. I'm one of it's fucking commanders. That’s not a problem. Or at least it won’t be for very long."

For the first time since he got the orders, hope sparks in Hawks' chest, and it's his turn to be wide eyed. If it was anyone else- anyone in the fucking world, there’d be no way. But this isn’t just anyone. This is Dabi. This is Touya. But doubt still taints his voice.

"I- It's not just one person. It's dozens and dozens, and they're all heavily protected.”

"So? We aren't one person either. There's a whole damn army here waiting to go."

Hawks bites his lip, but the hope only grows stronger. He used to have dreams of getting free. Of ending the people who trapped him here. It’d been a long time since he had those dreams. They’d been foolish, he had no where else to go but his pretty gilded cage. Nobody to turn to. No help, no savior. But that wasn’t true, maybe it never really had been. He’d gotten a feeling that someone had been bailing him out when he’d almost slipped up a few times as a double agent. Maybe someone had been.

"Will the kid be safe here in the meantime? This won't happen quickly. Even with all the resources in the world."

Dabi considers it, well and truly, before he nods firmly.

"Yeah, it'll be a pain to actually keep him here. Word going around is that he's a little escape artist. But Tomura's not gonna hurt him, he’s given a standing no harm order and nobody around here’s stupid enough to go against that. I'll keep my eye on him too. Just in case."

Then he pauses, plans taking shape in his head, growing and spinning, forming more completely.

"All we'll need from you is names and faces. We need to know who needs to go."

It's terrifying, it’s the wrong choice, it’s a stupid idea, but Hawks nods in agreement after a few seconds of internal debate. He wouldn't under any other circumstances- but fuck. He can't let them do what they did to him to someone else. He just can't. Hawks wants out of his cage, and he sure as fuck isn’t letting them drag another kid into it.

“I- I can do that. Give me a day to get everything together, I don’t know all the names, but I can get code names if nothing else.”

Dabi nods once more to affirm the plan, and the two of them sit in silence for a few more heartbeats, unsaid word lingering between them. It's Dabi who breaks the silence, an uncharacteristic softness to his voice.

"God, I can't believe you finally find out my name, and what, fucking five minutes later we're already back on our bullshit."

Hawks laughs, but this time it's light and childish like it used to be. Like it should be. He kicks his legs out, stretching out his wings behind him.

"What can I say? There was a reason the Commission hated it when I hung out with you, isn't that right Touya?"

It brings back memories Dabi had been suppressing for months now, pretending that they meant nothing to him, even as he let Hawks into the league, covered for him, erased camera footage and lied to protect him. He can't help but laugh too. His laugh is raspy from years of smoke and burned lungs. Hawks can’t help but take joy in hearing it again.

"I supposed so. You really haven't changed at all Keigo."

It's the first time in nearly 10 years Hawks heard that name, and it makes him grin ear to ear, silly and open and feeling comfortable like he hasn't since the last time he was called that. The last time he was Keigo.

Dabi takes another deep breath in and then twists to hop back onto the main part of the roof, pausing to meet Hawks' eyes with a long lost mischievous grin on his face.

"Come on slowpoke, we've got shit to do."

It’s not the first time he’s been called that. It’s the first time in a long time, but it’s just like every time before.

Just like every time before, Hawks' wings flutter in indignation (Touya was the only one who ever called him that, because he thought it was ever so funny how affronted Keigo got, so much so that no matter how fast he got, Touya refused to let it drop).

“You are the worst.”

Hawks grumbled, rolling his eyes as he hopped to his feet, snagging Dabi's hand to tug him back towards the door. Dabi is laughing at him again, but Hawks can't find it in himself to be actually annoyed.

How could he be? For the first time in too many years, he had his Touya back with him. He was allowed to be Keigo again, even if it was only for a short period. And for once, he had a feeling that things might be okay after all.